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SUFFERINGS
OF THE
REV. T.G. CAMPBELL
AND
HIS FAMILY
IN GEORGIA
WASHINGTON
ENTERPRISE PUBLISHING COMPANY
1877
PREFACE
My purpose in writing this sketch
is to show to those whose capital, given to them in brain or muscle
by the Great Ruler of the Universe, has been ignored and trampled
under foot by the moneyed aristocrats of this nation; for while it
is eminently proper that each individual should be protected in all
their lawful rights of property, yet they should never have any
paramount claim on that ground over any other person. I hereby show
the feelings of the people of the South, who cast their lot with
their States, upon the theory of paramount allegiance being due to
the States. It is claimed by some of their friends that slavery
being abolished, this doctrine of State rights fell with it; but
that is a great mistake. Under the name of local self-government,
they now claim all they ever asked; and that is the recognition of
the rights of property over that of person, which was claimed under
the three-fifths rule, and which is demanded by the property-holders
of the South today. When the troops were withdrawn from the States
of South Carolina and Louisiana, it was received as a recognition of
State rights, and property rights; and no matter what might be the
moral worth or respectability of a mechanic or laboring man, his
interests or rights must not stand in the way of the wishes of the
capitalists or property-holder.
Therefore, in view of facts as they present themselves,
I ask the laboring men and women of this nation. How long will it
be before you will have no rights that the capitalists or
property-holder is bound to respect? It is time you begin to think
about this.
REV. T.G. CAMPBELL
THE SITUATION
Dedicated to the Hon. Tunis G. Campbell, Sr.
of Georgia.
A contest, such as men never saw,
Placed in the time-known chair,
Within and beyond the honored law,
One with record grand and fair.
The world is coursing the other way—
From the base of wave-worn Plymouth Rock,
For “Policy,” priests and Levite pray.
And the creed of the Fathers they jeer and mock
And now ‘tis the fate of the honest man
To give to a rebel the upper seat;
To magnify the ku-klux clan,
And cringe and bow when foemen meet
“Oh woe!” is they cry from the Southern land,
From Dixon’s line to the Single Star;
Again they rule with an iron hand,
Who rived the fetters before the war.
And gun and knife, and baying beast,—
The cruel hounds, in days of yore,
From stockade scent the bloody feast,
As in the days long gone before.
From stricken homes the children sigh,
“The orphan and the widow save!”
The call is vain! Peace is the party cry!
No power now the nation claims to save!
The freedman, from the greed and wrath
Of those who tore the country’s life away,
Let us have peace! And if the gory path
Of Southern empire o’er the bondsmen lay,
Beneath them lies an early tomb,
Low out of thought and sight
‘Tis but the coming doom
Of those whom God made black instead of white
“Peace” is our watchword now,
At any, every cost or price;
Before it honor, truth and country bow;
The black must turn to white, or die! the last device.
MARY SHADD CARY
SKETCH OF THE LIFE
OF THE
REV. T.G. CAMPBELL
I was born in Middlebrook, Somerset
county, New Jersey, on the 1st day of April, in the year
1812. My father, (John Campbell, Sr.,) was a blacksmith by
trade. I had five sisters and four brothers. I was the youngest of
all, except two sisters and they were living near MIddlebrook. When
at the age of 5 years, a gentleman rode up on horseback and spoke to
me, as I was playing with two of my sisters by the roadside. He
inquired for my mother. We all knew him very well, for he lived in
Middlebrook. He told my father and mother that he could get me in a
school on Long Island, in the State of New York. I was subsequently
sent to a school at Babylon, on Long Island, I was the only colored
child in the school. The principal and assistants were very kind to
me. At the age of 18 I returned home, I would not agree to go to
Africa as a missionary, and from this period I commenced as an
anti-slavery lecturer.
My father had removed to the city of New Brunswick, New
Jersey. Here, in the year 1832, I formed an anti-colonization
society, and then pledged myself never to leave this country until
every slave was free on American soil—unless I went to learn
something, or to get help to secure their liberation. I was brought
up in (and intended to be sent out from) the Episcopal
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Church, but after leaving school joined the Methodist Church; and
except being mobbed many times while lecturing or preaching, and
nearly killed once, there was nothing of not occurred, except that I
was the first moral reformer and temperance lecturer that entered
the Five Points, in the city of New York. After the work was begun,
then noble-hearted white men stepped in; and where the old dens of
thieves and panel-houses stood, they have raised a mission house.
The mayor of Jersey City was kind enough to send a
policeman down to the ferry, every Monday night, to protect me from
the ferry, and back to the ferry, from the temperance meetings held
in that city every Monday night; and through Divine Providence kind
friends came forward and helped us to raise our school houses and
churches in Jersey City during the years 1811, 1812, 1815, and
1816. I also, during the same time, labored in Brooklyn and
Williamsburg in the same way.
I now pass to the year 1861. I was at this time a
partner and general agent of the firm of Davies & Co., unfermented
bread manufacturers, on the corner of Third avenue and Fourteenth
street, in the city of New York. We got a contract to supply the
Sickles brigade with bread, at their camp of instructions, on Staten
Island; and when I went to deliver my bread at the commissary
store-house, I wanted them to weigh it. They said it was all right;
unload it. I would not unload it unless they would first sign my
papers, showing the weight of each basket and the bread it
contained. This difficulty with me prevented the storekeeper from
giving out the rations, and brought the officer of the day to see
what was the matter. They told their story; but when he came to me,
and ordered me at once to unload, I told him I would not unload
until my papers were signed, or they weighed my bread, and gave me
vouchers for the weight. The chief quartermaster now came up and
asked what was the trouble. I at once him, and showed him my
papers. He asked me who made out my papers. I replied,
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“Myself.” He gave me a chair, and said, “make out one.” This I did
at once. About a month after this a committee was appointed at
Washington to inspect the commissary department, and to report upon
the sanitary condition of the troops on Staten Island; and I was
ordered by General Eaton, chief quartermaster, United States
army, to sit with them. I did so, and signed the report with other
mandates of the commission. This was the first year of the war.
Myself and other colored men offered to aid the Government in
putting down the rebellion, but our services were refused—Secretary
Seward replying that we were premature. In 1863 I sent a
personal petition to the President, but got no answer. An old
friend of mine in the city of New York asked me if I had got any
answer to my Washington letter. I told him no. He then said,
“Write again, and I will try what I can do for you.” I did write
again to President Lincoln; and in about a month after this I
called to see my friend, and he had that very day received a package
from the Secretary of War, upon opening which, I found a commission
ordering me to report forthwith to General Saxton at Hilton
Head, in South Carolina; and there I remained with General Saxton,
and did whatever was entrusted to me, I think, to his satisfaction.
After the fall of Charleston I requested to be sent to the Sea
Islands, in Georgia, and had assigned to me Burnside, Ausaba, Saint
Catherines, Sapelo and Colonel’s Islands, with orders to organize
and establish governments on the islands; protect freemen and
refugees for thirty miles back from the seashore; and I remained for
two years governor on these Islands. I had three teachers brought
from the North at my own expense, and paid them. Under my
policy-plan (that of Presi-
*The petition
which I sent to President Lincoln set forth a plan by which
the freed people could be educated and made self-supporting and
prepared to exercise the duties of citizens, and relieve the General
Government from the guardianship which, in my view, they would have
to keep over them as a protection against bad men from the North,
and bad men from the South, who would use them for their own
purposes.
Page 8
dent Johnson) I was removed by General Tilson, who was
then placed as head of the Freedman’s Bureau, and military
commander-in-chief of Georgia.
The schools which I had established on the Islands were
broken up, and the people driven off—unless they work under
contracts which were purposely made to cheat the freedmen out of
their labor. Rebels, who before had appeared humble and repentant,
now insisted that all colored men and women should sign these
contracts; and when they refused, they would waylay them and beat
them, telling them that they would have them back when the Yankees
left the State.
I went to General Tilson at the time his
headquarters were in Augusta, and told him that I could not go on
the Islands with safety. I showed him my certificate as an Elder of
Zion Methodist Episcopal Church in America, with my commission from
Right Rev. J.J. Clinton as missionary for the States of
Georgia and Florida. He said, “That is all right; but I cannot give
you any protection!” I now returned back to Savannah. I sent down
to a little village called Thunder Bolt and got a sail boat to take
me to the islands. In it I went to see the people, to tell them
that if they would come over on the main land I would try to get a
plantation called Belleville, which was owned by a gentleman of the
name of Hopkins, in McIntosh county. There was 1,250 acres
of land in this plantation, and he would not sell it for less than
$14.50 per acre. Looking at the pitiful condition of the people, I
agreed to give it; on which I advanced $1,000. As the people had to
move with what they could only take in small boats, I got one
flat-boat; but what with rain and storm, when we got to Belleville,
it was almost worthless—for everything was burned up during the war
on the place.
As the people dare not stay there without me, I
therefore moved my own family into a camp made of old boards on the
side and ends, and a Palmetto roof—for I had to have one to cook
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in, and the other to sleep in. I found it well that I did so, for
very soon after we got there a man, who was obnoxious to the white
people on account of his having been sheriff for the Islands during
my administration there, was arrested during my absence, one day,
waiting at Doboy Island for my mail, the object being to break up
the settlement on Belleville; but my wife would not let the man be
taken away until I could be there to see justice done in his case.
This encouraged the people. I went up to Savannah after the trial
to the officer of the Freedman’s Bureau, and they sent down an
officer to examine into the case, who discharged the man, as there
was no evidence against him, although he was fined before the court
in Darien. This was in 1867.
Under the Reconstruction Act of Congress I was appointed
one of the registrars for the Second Senatorial District of
Georgia—Liberty, McIntosh and Tatnall counties, and subsequently was
elected a member of the constitutional convention; and upon the
submission of the constitution to the people for ratification, I
was elected Senator for the Second District of the State of
Georgia. Upon the question of eligibility to office I was compelled
to stand alone for eight days on the floor of the Senate, contending
for the rights of the colored members to hold their seats; and at
different times when I was speaking I could see Democratic members,
with their hands on the butts of their pistols, with their teeth
shut hard together, and using threatening gestures at me. On the
ninth day I gave way, seeing no hope for us in the Georgia
legislature; and at 1 o’clock, I called the expelled members
together, and told them our only chance was to prevent the Senators
from Georgia taking their seats in the United States Senate. My
son, T.G. Campbell, Jr., who was a member of the house, and
myself were elected as a committee to go to Washington to protest
against the Hon. Joshua Hill and H.M.V. Miller taking
their seats, until the colored members of the General Assembly of
the State of Georgia were reseated. We went on to the city of
Washington and saw the
Page 10
Congressional Committee, and conferred with them personally, by
request of their chairman, Hon. E.D. Morgan, of the State of
New York, (who knew me personally,) and Hon. Charles Sumner,
of Massachusetts, with whom we had a long conference. We told h im
and other members of the committee that we did not come only to
complain of wrongs done us in Georgia, and get Congress to reseat
us, but that we wanted Congress to pass a law which would protect
all persons in their rights, without regard to race, color, or
previous condition of servitude. Mr. Sumner at once said,
“That is true. We must amend the fundamental law. We must have a
fifteenth amendment to the Constitution of the United States, and I
will bring that measure before the Senate, or get some one to do it,
as the next session.” We then called the attention, as we also did
the attention of other members of the committee, to the particular
reason why the Senators from Georgia should not be admitted at that
time; for if they were seated, the State would be admitted, and then
Congress could not act on our cases no more than in the case of any
member or members of any legislature of any other State—as of New
York or Massachusetts. Suffice it to say, we were successful in our
mission—the Georgia Senators were not seated in 1869. I was, by the
Georgia State central committee, appointed with Hon. Foster
Blodgett, to go to Washington and look after reconstruction in
Georgia. We went on—although threatened by many rebel sympathizers
that if I went to Washington again I should not live in
Georgia. We met Governor Bullock and quite a number of
prominent Republicans from Georgia. I felt it my duty to go and see
the Republican members of the House and Senate, and urge them to
vote for the bill to promote reconstruction in Georgia. I stayed
until the bill was passed, in a modified form, and then went direct
to Atlanta, as it was not thought safe for me to try to reach home.
I went to Atlanta by rail, and arrived there on the 25th
day of December, 1869. The General Assembly met on the 10th
of
Page 11
January, 1870. As it was well known that many who were inelegible
[sic] had taken the oath prescribed by Congress, it was deemed
necessary under this bill for some member in each branch of the
General Assembly to read a protest against all that were ineligible,
who should attempt to take the oath; but before the day came there
was such an excitement that it was difficult to get any one to take
the protest. I was appointed on a committee of three to seek for
and employ counsel in behalf of the State, and I found, on
consulting them, that no member could be prevented from taking his
seat by any civil tribunal for they could give any bond, no matter
what was its requirement, to answer at the proper time, and walk in
and take their seats. I went to the Governor and made this fact
known to him, and suggested to him that General Terry had
better appoint a board of officers to examine all those who should
be protested. The governor said that he did not know whether
General Terry would take this responsibility. I replied, “We
cannot organize without he [sic] will do that.” On the 10th,
in the morning, I was sent for by the chairman of our committee of
three. He told me that the protests were all ready, but no one
would sign them as a protestant, to appear on behalf of the
Government. I at once signed my name for the Senate, and put the
protests in my pocket, and went into my seat in the Senate chamber.
I was informed by Senators of the reason why they would not read or
sign these protests. They said that there was eight men stationed
on the front and side of the gallery, above the Republican members,
to shoot down any member who should read, or attempt to read, a
protest; and told me to look up in the galleries and see how crowded
they were; and said, “You had better not read them, for you will be
cut in two by revolvers!” I looked at the clock and saw it wanted
ten minutes to the hour of meeting, and of course replied: “I will
read them!” All the Senators then moved away from my seat. There
was only on Senator to be sworn
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in before me. I was from the Second District. After being sworn, I
took the protests and layed them in order, and as each came to be
sworn I began to read, and the Democratic members arose almost in a
body to object, and would not obey any calls to order. With
permission from the president, (pro tempore,) I continued to read,
raising my voice above their clamor; and did read all, except one,
when the Governor sent for me and told me not to read any more, as
the house had to adjourn without doing anything.
As no protests could be read then, I returned to my
seat; but the member whose name I had a protest against did not
present himself. Immediately after adjournment I called on the
Governor, and at his request called on General Terry, to try
to get him to appoint a board of officers to inquire into the
elegibility [sic] of the members against whom protests had been
gotten ready, whether they had been read or not, and not to allow
any member to take his seat unless he was clearly entitled to it
under the Reconstruction Acts. I did call on General Terry,
and he said he would consider my request, and also see the
Governor. This was on the 10th. On the 13th,
general orders No. 3, of the military district of Georgia, were
issued, detailing Brevet Major General T.H. Ruger,
United States Army; Brevet Major General T.J.
Haines, and Major Henry Goodfellow, judge advocate,
United States Army, as a board to inquire into the elegibility [sic]
of those members.
It now became the common talk that the old Negro Senator
of the Second was destroying Georgia, and that the Negros [sic]
would be unruly unless he was put out of the way.
This session commenced on the 10th day of
January, 1870, and closed on the 6th day of December,
1870. There were recesses taken during that time; in one of which
recesses I was sent for by Governor Bullock to come on to the
city of Washington, and bring a delegation. My wife received the
dispatch and informed my son—he being with her in Atlanta. I
Page 13
had left Atlanta on the Saturday previous, by request, to preach in
the city of Rome on the Sabbath. My son started at once, for the
city of Washington. My wife sent a telegram informing me of the
communication received, and the nature of what was called the
Burgham amendment to the Georgia bill. I at once left for Atlanta;
found two other members of the General Assembly, (colored,) and took
them with me. This is what was called the Georgia delegation, (all
colored,) composed of ten members and two private citizens. We were
successful—the Burgham amendment was defeated.
We all saw the danger of the State being admitted
without some additional restriction, and this was brought by myself
before the convention of colored men held in the city of Atlanta on
February 3, 1871. I was by that convention elected a delegate at
large to go to Washington and urge Congress to pass a law to protect
loyal citizens in the Southern States. I arrived there in March,
and found Congress just ready to adjourn; but, through the
providence of God, the President issued his message to Congress,
recommending to that body the consideration of the condition of
loyal citizens in the Southern States, and the passage of some law
looking to their protection. I had the honor of calling on the
President at that time, and had assurance of his sanction to any
bill passed by Congress for that purpose. The Ku-Klux Bill was
passed, and of course my mission was accomplished.
Now the rebels became more enraged at me than ever. My
friends informed me in Washington of plots layed to murder me on my
way home, and advised me to stay in the North for a while; but
without answering them, I came home before they thought I had left
Washington, and went to work to find out, if possible, how they
intended to kill me. The plan was this: Certain men were to come
up from the country and watch for me going to or coming from the
church at night, and kill me; then take my body a short distance in
the woods, and leave
Page 14
something by it to make it appear that colored men from the country
had done it. I pursued my inquiries until the statements made were
fully corroborated by incidents that occurred at my own house and
near the church. The parties were well known; and when they found
that I was aware of their intentions, they had me arrested and taken
to Savannah under the Ku-Klux Bill, before the United States
Commissioner. It was another part of the programme to keep me in
lawsuits, so as to compel me to leave the county to keep out of
jail; or if I was put in jail, then break the jail at night and kill
me in it. In any event, my life was to be taken.
I was compelled, on going up to the legislature last
November, to leave my house at dusk, and go by land, to meet my son,
who was waiting in Savannah for me. On my return, the captain of
the steamer “Hardy” (a boat that stops at Darien coming and going to
Savannah) refused to take me and another gentleman who was with me,
and had my trunk put on the dock. After first taking our fare, he
then came and gave it back to us, and ordered us on shore. All this
was to get up a difficulty in Savannah; but being aware of their
object, I at once ordered my things to be taken directly off the
wharf, and crossed the country in a wagon, which took one day longer
to get home. The only security that I now had for my life or
property was this: The rebels knew that they would be held
responsible by the loyal people of this country, both colored and
white, for any injury that might be done to me.
T.G. CAMPBELL, SR.
Page 15
HISTORY OF THE CASE.
My case charged false imprisonment
of a man named Rafe. This man was charged with breaking into
a house in which two families, lived, and threatening to kill the
two men—both heads of these families. Upon the affidavits of said
parties I issued a warrant for his arrest, and upon a hearing, he
was ordered to give a bond of $50 in each case to keep the peace for
six months as towards these families, and to pay the costs of court,
which he agreed to do. He went to get bond-men; but came back and
said he would not give bonds; upon which, I ordered him to be locked
up; but he went and made an affidavit that he had given bonds, and
then ran away.
I was indicted without having a notice to appear before
the grand jury, and that charges had been preferred against me.
When the regular term of court came it was adjourned, and not time
was set. I had business in Washington, and went there. Upon my
return home I found my dwelling house had been burned, and the
grocery and dry-goods store of my wife and son was also burned.
That day the court met, and I was arrested the next day. There was
a called session of the superior court. I was not allowed to go two
blocks to get my court records. My counsel asked for one hour, but
being refused, he again asked for fifteen minutes, and was again
refused by Judge Tompkins.
I plead not guilty to the indictment, and the case
proceeded upon the affidavit of Rafe, who had run away, and
the testimony of the sheriff, who said that he was told not to lock
him
Page 16
up by the lawyer. The lawyer was also a witness, he having written
the affidavit, and swore that Rafe had given bonds. My
counsel, in open court, said it was impossible for him to get
testimony, or do anything in my case, on account of intimidation,
but the judge said he saw no intimidation, and the case should
proceed. He then ordered the clerk to get the jury-box, which he
unlocked, and then took out two or three tickets; but the clerk
whispered to him, and he put those back and took out two packages of
tickets, when he tore one package open and counted out twenty-four.
He then tore open the other, and when he had counted out ten, I told
my counsel to look. He said he was looking. When he counted out
the other package, the clerk, who was keeping the count, said there
was forty-eight. This list was given to the sheriff, who called
their names; and as the sheriff called, every one answered. We of
course challenged the array, but were overruled by the court as to
our ground of challenge. We were entitled to take from the first
panel, and if that was exhausted, to have tales jurors—also
prejudice.
The jury in my case was out all night, and at 10 o’clock
the next day the foreman informed the judge that they could not
agree. In reply the judge said, “You go back to your room, and if
you don’t agree by 11 o’clock, I will have you locked up and adjourn
this court until Thursday next, and you shall not have food or fire
until then.” They then went out, and (by my watch) returned in
fifteen minutes with a verdict of guilty, but with a recommendation
to the mercy of the court.
We then moved for a new trial, upon which we were
entitled to give bond, but the judge said he would not take any
bond, when we insisted upon our rights. He then said he would not
take $300,000 bonds, but agreed to hear argument at Savannah any
time within thirty days, and ordered me to be sent to State prison
at once. I was taken on Sunday, at 10 o’clock a.m., with two other
prisoners, across the country, to the Atlantic and Gulf Railroad.
They hurried the horses so that they broke
Page 17
down, and we missed the train, so we did not get to Savannah until
Monday morning. My wife and son employed counsel at Savannah, and
presented my case under the motion which was made in McIntosh county
to hear argument in thirty days; but he put them off, and issued a
special order to the guard to take me away, which they did at
night. I was released from the guard at Atlanta on a writ of habeas
corpus, and put in jail. Now, the judge refused, after hearing
argument, to grant a new trial, and also refused to sign a bill of
exceptions; and my lawyers could not get it, so as to make
application to the Supreme Court for a writ of mandamus. The judge
then came up to Atlanta, no doubt to be out of my lawyers’ way.
My son then telegraphed to my counsel, and they brought
me out for a hearing the day the judge arrived, and had issued a
subpoena duces te cum [illegible]—that afternoon, and the court
adjourned until the next day, at 10 a.m. The judge at first refused
to come, but the solicitor went for him. He admitted that a bill of
exception had been presented to him in my case.
We then got papers ready while one of my counsel was
speaking to move before Judge Hopkins, of the Atlanta
Superior Court; and to do this, we had to dismiss it from before the
Court of Ordinary. As soon as we dismissed it, irons were put upon
me. I was then dragged to a covered wagon, and taken out of town,
through by-roads, to a woods, when they made me get out and walk.
Of course I took my time. When we got within a mile of a prison
camp, two men came up on horseback and served papers upon the guard,
ordering him to bring me back; but they not being officers, he
refused. I was put in irons there, and that afternoon put to work,
and the next day, until 2 o’clock, I worked, when I fell—being
unable to work any longer.
The next morning it was raining. After they had
breakfast I was taken by two men up to the guard tent, or
headquarters, when they took off my chains. The captain of the
guard
Page 18
showed me the order of court forbidding chains being put upon me,
and ordering my return back to Atlanta. After I had read it, he
asked me when I expected my friends would send for me. “Why,” I
replied, “you are ordered by this to send me back, therefore they
will not come.” He then ordered a buggy to be brought, and ordered
me put in, to be sent back to the Atlanta jail, in charge of a
guard. I was carried to the jail by two men. When they laid me
down upon the cell-floor, the men said, “He will soon die, for he is
scarcely alive now.” I asked one of the men to get me a little rice
and milk. In about two hours he brought it. With difficulty I ate
it, for I had not eating anything for two days. The food given to
prisoners was corn meal, mixed with water, without salt, made into
an oval shape, and baked hard on the outside—but as a general thing
quite raw inside—and a piece of fat bacon, that eight persons to one
would find raw. In going about they would pick up pieces of
old-iron pots and kettles, and these were used for frying meat
upon. Then they would break open the corn bread, and lay the pieces
upon the coals and cook it—or rather burn it—so as to make it more
palatable; but I could not eat it.
In the jail at Atlanta the food was better; but I had my
meals brought from the hotel. As a general thing they kept them out
in the office until quite cold. I could never see the man who
brought them. There were white prisoners who had their meals sent
to them from some hotel, and the men would carry them in their
cells.
Two or three days after my being brought back—I do not
remember the day, for I was very sick—my lawyers brought me out
again for a hearing before Judge Hopkins. I was carried up
in a carriage. My counsel, on the writ of habeas corpus, alleged
illegality, on the ground of my having applied for a new trial, and
there being no refusal; and upon my affidavit, they showed to the
court that Judge Tompkins had agreed to hear argument in this
case, by my counsel, at Savannah, within
Page 19
thirty days; and that we had also given notice of a bill of
exceptions to the Supreme Court, and therefore were entitled to give
bonds—after hearing their argument, Judge Hopkins said, “I
have no doubt counsel believes the statements herein set forth to be
true, but I cannot believe that any judge, upon whom the light of
God’s sun shines, would refuse a bond under such a state of facts.
I cannot release the prisoner; but I will remand him back to jail,
and give you time to get the papers to make the necessary showing.”
I was then carried back to jail by four men. I remained in jail
about four weeks. My wife went to McIntosh county, and with great
difficulty got a copy of the records of the court, and had my case
argued, on a motion for a new trial, before Judge Tompkins.
The said motion being refused, she then presented a bill of
exceptions, and, with my lawyers, found the records incomplete.
She was compelled to travel back on dismal, dark nights,
when the men who drove the wagon had to get out and lead the horses,
and pick their way as best they could in darkness—for in the winter,
although there is no snow to lay upon the ground, yet in the three
counties which she was compelled to cross, after leaving Chatham,
namely, Bryan, Liberty and McIntosh, cold rains and sleet were
things of constant occurrence. For three weeks she was kept going
up and down—from Savannah to Darien, and from Darien back to
Savannah—on account of malicious omissions, or errors, made by the
clerk. But with an unshaken courage she kept on her weary and
dangerous journeying, until the papers sufficient to meet my case,
and act as a supercedeas[?], was made out. When I was released from
jail, and on my way home, the rebels again arrested me in Savannah.
They then said that if my wife was again found in McIntosh county
she would be arrested.
One of my counsel came to Savannah, but was not able to
get a record of my case in time from the clerk of the court.
Mrs. Campbell (my wife) would not trust any person, but started
Page 20
from Savannah herself about the 11th of January, 1875, it
was cold and rainy—in the morning train of the Atlantic and Gulf
railroad, and stopped at station No. 3, and there a friend of ours (Rev.
Joseph Williams) took her in his buggy on to a neighbor’s, (Cain
Jeems,) when he was to take her to Mr. John McIvers’,
when he was to take her to Darien altogether a distance of forty
miles. She had to travel across the country, over roads which, with
the exception of bridges across certain rivers, had never been
repaired since the war, and in rainy weather almost impassable on
account of suck-holes and miry places, over which poles had been
layed, forming what is called a corduroy road. But these poles had
become rotten, and had dangerous holes in them, in which wagon
wheels or horses legs were in danger of being broken even in the day
time. Thirty miles of this road had to be traveled at night, so as
to be in Darien soon enough to see the clerk in his office in time
to get the work done. When she got there the clerk kept out of her
way, and would not come to the office. She then got some of our
friends to watch for him, and they found his place of concealment—a
store. He would go in the front door and out of the back, and down
a bank, and get around to his own house. They then set a watch
front and rear, and by that means got a part of the papers. When
she got back to Savannah I told Colonel Thomas to have by
case at once brought before the United States Court. He promised to
come up in an hour or two, but did not come. I then sent word to
him by an officer. He came up, and said it would be best for me to
go to McIntosh county. I said, “You know that they will pretend
that I am trying to escape, and will shoot me; that is well known!”
He said, “There is no danger; and if you employ counsel, you must do
as your counsel directs.” I replied, “I will, if I think my counsel
knows better than I do; but who would be such a fool as to go, when
they knew they would be killed!” He then said, “You know and think
a great deal of Colonel A.T. Akerman. If I get a
Page 21
letter from him, and he says you will be safe, will you go?” I
said, “No; I will never consent to go and be killed for any one.”
He then said, “I do not think that Judge Erskine will
entertain your case.” I asked, “Upon what ground can he object? for
I can cover the statute.” He said, “Well, public prejudice is so
strong that he will not dare to act!”
He came again to see me, and said that “Mrs. Campbell
wanted him to attend to my case, and I have promised to do it for
$50; so I would like to have some of your friends pay me the money,
for I tell you it is a very heavy thing to stand up as we will have
to do, against public sentiment—as you well know.” I said, “Well,
whatever my wife has agreed to do will be all right when I get
out.” He went away, and then came back and told me that it was best
to go before Tompkins, for the case was so clearly illegal
that there would be no difficulty in getting my discharge. I said,
“Judge Tompkins will not discharge me, and you ought to know
that.” He replied, “You are mistaken. I will get you discharged.”
The next day I was taken before Judge Tompkins, who
peremptorily refused to discharge or even consider my case, and said
it could not be brought before him, out of McIntosh county. He then
remanded me back to jail, notifying me that I would have to appear
before him in McIntosh county.
I wrote a letter to my wife, who was in Atlanta. She
had been compelled to get out of the way, for there was a warrant
out against her, alleging that she was a dangerous character and
ought not to be at large among the people.
They had two indictments against my son, on trumped-up
charges, and said they would chain him and me together, and take us
both to the State prison at one time. But we got my son (T.G.
Campbell, Jr.,) and his wife off to the State of Massachusetts,
(he had been a member of the legislature for four years, and of
course, as he could not be bought, he must go or [illegible] before
I was arrested the first time; therefore there was not [illegible]
Page 22
my family here now but my wife and daughter Cassey, as we
call her—Catharine Amelia is her name. She was 14 years old
in the spring of 1877. They were both in Atlanta. My wife employed
Colonel G.S. Thomas, assistant United States attorney for the
State of Georgia, to bring my case into the United States Court, and
agreed to pay him $50. She gave her gold watch as security for the
payment. Colonel Thomas was down in Savannah on business.
With great difficulty he got it signed. My wife and son
sent it up to my counsel at Atlanta. I was then brought out again,
before Judge Hopkins, and gave bond. I now went down to
Savannah, on my way home. I got to Savannah about 5 o’clock in the
afternoon. The next day, at 2 o’clock p.m., I was arrested upon an
old snit, which was not only out of date, but had been decided in my
favor by the Supreme Court. In this case the judge refused to take
bonds. I was then put in the jail at Savannah, which had been
condemned by the grand jury on account of its unhealthiness. I was
kept there for eight months and ten days. The first month I was
kept there for eight months and ten days. The first month I was
kept in a cell down stairs, nine feet long and four and one-half
feet wide. The prisoners were let out to walk in a hall six feet
wide once in two weeks. Mr. Russell, after I had been there
about four weeks, ordered me to go up stairs, and every day after
that my cell was unlocked, and I was allowed to walk about the hall
all day. My wife also made arrangement with a friend of ours to
send me something to eat every day. She also sent me medicines, for
her knowledge of the medicinal qualities of roots and herbs was very
extensive.
I was attacked with a severe cough, and a swelling in my
body, but was relieved of them by rubbing with a liniment and taking
three doses a day of a syrup which was made by her.
I wrote a letter to President Grant, after I had
been three or four months in jail, and, in answer, Attorney General
Pierrepont [sic] informed me that he did not see how he could
do anything
Page 23
for me. About three days after I got a communication from the
Attorney General. I also received a letter from my wife, informing
me of her having written to President Grant; and the same
afternoon I received communication from the Department of Justice,
informing me that my wife (Mrs. Harriet Campbell) had written
a letter to the President; and from statements made therein said
letter having been referred to him—that an immediate investigation
should be made in my case. Just when I got through reading this
letter I was ordered down to the office, and there I found the
assistant attorney general for the State of Georgia—Colonel G.
Thomas. He said that a dispatch had been received at Atlanta,
ordering them to take my case into the United States Court. He had
an affidavit drawn up, already for me to sign. He read it to me. I
told him that was all right; but there was the other caser before
the Supreme Court of the State of Georgia, which ought also to be
DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
WASHINGTON, D.C. November 20, 1875
[date hard to read]
TUNIS G. CAMPBELL, Chatham County Jail,
Savannah, Ga.
DEAR SIR: The President has
referred me your letter of the 13th instance addressed to
him from your place of confinement in Savannah.
I am deeply interested in your case, and have this day
written to the United States attorney for Georgia, expressing to him
my ideas, and desiring his active and persistent attention[?] to
relieve you from your difficulties. It is through him that I must
act in the case, and I am sure he will do whatever can lawfully be
done for you.
Very respectfully,
EDWARDS PIERREPONT
Attorney General
DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
WASHINGTON, D.C., November 16, 1875
[date hard to read]
MRS. HARRIET CAMPBELL, Atlanta, Ga.
MADAME: Your letter of the 11th
instant, addressed to the President and asking him relief, has been
referred to me. I have this day addressed a letter to Mr. Farrow,
the attorney of the United States [illegible] Georgia, referring a
copy of your letter to him, and [illegible] him, further to
investigate and to see if anything can be done for your relief, and
to enable your husband to be relieved from his imprisonment.
I am disposed to do whatever can be done by the
government to deliver your husband from the difficulty under which
he labors.
Very respectfully,
EDWARDS PIERREPONT
Attorney General, United States
Page 24
brought into the United States Court. He said, “That is so; but you
had better let us get this case first.” He then went away, and came
back the next day, and said, “Colonel H.P. Farrow requested
me to say that he had been slow to move; but now he would move, and
I should be righted. That I must get $50 ready, and as soon as they
saw what action would be taken by Judge Tompkins they would
go to work on my case. I then said, “My papers are not properly
before the Supreme Court, and that I wanted them brought before the
United States Court and properly prepared.” He replied “You are all
right.”
My wife informed me by letter of an order having been
sent front the Department of Justice, to Colonels Farrow and
Thomas, to have all my cases brought into the United States
Court. There was only two cases now against me; for when I was last
in Darien, before the court, I drew a plea myself in support of a
motion to dismiss five indictments found against me at the previous
term. I showed it to a Democratic lawyer, who was very anxious for
me to employ him. I agreed to give him $30 if he was successful.
He went to the judge, and after a short conversation he made the
motion, when the judge granted the order. It was done so quickly
that no one appeared to notice it. I was well satisfied that the
other two cases would not amount to anything, unless I failed to
defend them.
About three weeks after this a letter came from my wife,
informing me of my case having been dismissed by the Supreme Court
of Georgia. My counsel failed to file the brief of evidence with
the bill of exceptions. Upon a proper showing, my case could have
been brought de novo even then. But I saw myself betrayed, and
resolved to suffer or die! There were certain persons, (Democrats,)
out of pretended pity, wanted me now—as they said Republicans had
deserted me—to accept of offers that had been made to me—namely,
$35,000 and keep quiet, and to preach as the white ministers
directed, or leave the State.
Page 25
This offer of $35,000 was first made to me in the year 1868. Before
this—in 1866—I was offered $5,000 a year to preach under the
direction of white land owners, and a house built to suit myself
wherever I chose to locate on the Islands in the black belt or main
land.
I told the jailor not to send for me when they came any
more to get me out by bargains, as I had made up my mind to die in
prison. On or about the 12th of January, 1876, the guard
from the State prison came, about 7 o’clock a.m., and handcuffed me,
and, with a chain about twelve feet long, dragged me along the
streets of Savannah to the Central railroad, and then took me one
hundred and forty miles from Savannah, to a prison-camp on the
plantation of Colonel Jack Smith’s, in Washington county,
State of Georgia. The weather was very cold, and they took me up in
a wagon. I was helpless when we got there, at 1o’clock in the
night—my hands being chained together. I had a very bad fall in
getting out of the wagon. I tried to get pen and ink, and finally
did get pen, ink and paper, and wrote a letter to my wife. I
suffered very much from my fall. They were clearing land, and
ordered me to pile brush. It is impossible to describe the way in
which prisoners were worked. They were taken out as soon as they
could see—both winter and summer—and kept to work as long as it was
light, with one hour for dinner. They had breakfast before
daylight. If wood was to be cut, the strongest and most expert men
with the ax were made leaders, and every other man had to keep
stroke with him all day long; and if they failed to do so, they were
beaten most unmercifully with a leather strop, or a buggy trace, and
given from fifty to one hundred strokes, until they would keep up or
die. I am well satisfied that four men in the camp where I was were
whipped to death—and this was considered one of the best camps in
the State. These beatings made men reckless, and they would rush
here and there, like wild men, to get the favor of the guard. I
must say that the guards were a low
Page 26
and brutal set of men, as a general thing. You could hear them all
the time calling out to the men, “I don’t hear those axs [sic]! Go
in with those axs! Go in with those axs!” If a man could not stand
the work, then he was reported, and of course beaten. Women were
treated in the same manner. I was in this camp eleven months and
twenty-one days.
Two women—one a prisoner and the other a hired woman
(both colored)—had white babies—which shows the state of morals
there. I preached in this camp. I was for three Sundays in chains;
but the Monday morning after the third Sunday my chains were taken
off, and I was put as overseer of the wheelwright and blacksmith
shops. The keys of the store houses and cribs were given to me, as
also the books for all accounts of work done on the place, or for
our neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Smith always, from that
time, treated me very kindly. My meals came from their table. My
wife sent me every month a box of nourishments and
medicines—clothing, soda-crackers, , sugar-cakes, pound-cake,
strawberry and other preserves, pickled eggs, &c. Since I have been
out of prison I found that my wife went to the principle keeper and
stated my case to him, and through her statements he was induced to
have my chains taken off. Yet I feel under many obligations to
Colonel J.T. Smith and lady for their kindness to me.
My wife and daughter were, during my confinement, in the
city of Atlanta; and every dollar that she had been able to collect
from her customers was used up in trying to help me. She also made
up medicine in the winter to sell; and in the summer, went into the
woods around Atlanta and picked blackberries, and brought them to
the city to sell; and from the fields brought strawberries in, and
sold them. About three weeks before I got home—January 6, 1877—my
little girl went out to work, so as to keep a room, that I might
have a place to come once more, and be with them. She wrote all the
letters sent to President Grant by her mother. In this
connection,
Page 27
must say that Mrs. Campbell (my wife) is a woman of
remarkable good judgment, guided by firm Christian principles, and I
have no language to express my thankfulness to God for both wife and
child.
During the whole of this time I was in dread of the
ku-klux, or parties of men who broke open jails and prison camps to
get persons that they wanted out of the way.
THE END. |
