The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1871-11-21
VICTIMS OF TYRANNY.
NOW MARTIAL LAW OPERATES
IN SOUTH CAROLINA.
How the Negroes View the High.
Handed Proceedings.


6 ants tyranny and despotism. And
yet this is free country:
CoLUMBlA, S. c., Nov. 10, 1871.
To the Elitor of the Washington Patriot
SIR: was in Yorkvile q few days
ago. While there, | met an aged son Of
Africa His wool was white, his brow
wrinkled His eye had grown dim, and
the old mans back was bent. His ebon
countenance was black as night; but
there was the light of truth and sinceri,
ty in it.
He was coming from the Jail, where
large number of Ku Klux prisoners were
incarcerated stopped him, being
struck with the intelligent, though sad
expression of his face.
"Old man," said !, shave you been to
the Jail -
"Yes. boss" he replied "Tse been
to see my young massa. Dey got him
in 6ar."
'.For what ?'
"Fur muffin in Gods world boss, but
dat he is Dimocrat."
''Do they charge him with any
crime?
"None dat he, norI, knows on" -.
WHAT" 1 exclaimed, "doesn't he
know What he is put in jail for2''
"No, sab dat he don't. An l knows
dat de boy is as innocent O. Ku-kluck-
ing as you is, or 1. All de niggers will
swar la.
IF there is nothing against him, why
don't they let him go?'
DE Lord only knows, boss," he re-
piled, in the most earnest and mournful
manner. 'Dey say.-dey gwine to keep
EN- all in dere till way on to Christmas
times"
"How long has your young master
been in jail"
1.-TWO weeks, an better"
"And don't know what he was put in
Jail for ?"
"No more nor yoa, nor l." the old
man replied, shaking his Head.
"Has he had nc trial, nor hearing Of
any kin l?''
"No, sah. Layin' in Jail, boss, an nc
chance Civ him o clarin' hisself!"
"That is too bad Is he married."
"My young massa married? Ha, ha
ha! No, boss. He's picked him ont 8
gal, an soon as de milintary lets him
out O. Jail he's gwine fur her; but he's
got mother Since old masters dead
my young boss is her sole dependence
She's left all slone at home now; an
she's nigh distracted concsrnin' of his
tlkin' off an Judgment in Jail / never
spected to see de day when my young
boss would be put in Jail, an fur muffin
under Gods sum-" said the old man
with eyes dimmed with tears of com
mingled sorrow and indignition.
"Well, what do you think of all thi.
business, anyhow, old man3" said l.
"Ah, boss. / don't think much OF it. ;
"What, are you not glad that the Ku
klux, the prosecutors of your race, arr
being caught and put in Jail p
"No, boss, / ain,t glad Dc ku-kluxe:
neber trouble me / never steal muffin
1 never SbufnA Gobody's barn. l nebel
march oaboutA de country wild Scots
melish, ,wid muskets,s drums, an flags
tryin to timidate de white folks. Som,
O de colored people say dey are GLAD
dat de white men am put in Jail or dri,
out O de country But amt. 1t hurti
me to see so many young men in jai
down dar, huddled together like hogs il
a pen-driv about like cattIe-an' by
dere own color, too! White men treat
in white men in dat way, is more dan
can understood. Drops big as bucksho
comes up into my eyes ebery time
l ,oks at dat Jail, wild my young bos:
Gagged in dere like he wus bear!'
Here the good old African made :
pause. after which he said, with all ur
gency Of tone that bespoke the sinceri
ty of his words:
"Ah, boss, if l was de President o
the United States I'd die before I'd le
my own people be crammed in Jail di:
way by sojers, an kept dere widout q
hearin'! I'd stop dis. I'd set things
to rights!''
/ bade the earnest old negro good
bye, and passed on to the gloomy Jail
where Ku-klux prisoners were "huddled
together like hogs in pen, an driv'
about like cattle 1 found the prison.
ers guarded by soldiers as though they
were captives of war; There was the
dark, dreary looking building, with its
grated windows and forbidding aspect
There l beheld the sad faces of many
an unfortunate victim of Radical perse
cution peering wistfully through the iron
bars, longing to be in the sweet sun
shine without, and yearning for the
homes where they had left their loved
ones in tears, in loneliness. in despair.
There stood the grim sentinel, with neat
uniform and flashing bayonet, guarding
the entrance to the Jail. There was the
camp of Grants soldiers, the white
tents and shady booths dotting the green
slope of the hill that swelied up in
graceful outline to the rear of the pris-
on-house. And here, Thought |, is the
seat sof Grants Rebellion! one of the
dungeons, rather thought, selected for
the arbitrary Imprisonment of the vic
tins OF political persecution. This was
my first glimpse of "the Rebellion" Is
| looked upon the scene-the. min y
camp, the guarded Jail, and the quiet,
peaceful little village reposing upon the
hills around--I thought how in the
midst of peace we are in war!
1t WAS sickening sight to see& &these
men crowded in the narrow cells of this
dungeon; and narrowing to hear their
anxious inquiries. sWhen will we have
hearing2' asks one. "Is Sour trial
never to come OFF," exclaims another.
"Will the Government never give us an
opportunity of establishing our inno-
cence p says third. "Do they never
intend to tell US what we are put in Jail
for? What specific offences we are
charged with 2" inquiries fourth. "ln
the name of God and humanity, are we
to lay here and rot in Jail without an in
vestigation, hearing, trial, or even
an accusation against us 2" cries fifth.
as there no law, nor liberty, nor Justice