Alexander's Magazine (Vol. 1, No. 1, May 15, 1905)

In considering this question the following undeniable facts should be borne in mind:

1. The Twelfth Census of the United States shows the population of the State of Alabama to be 1,001,152 whites and 827,545 Colored; and in 20 counties the Negroes largely outnumber the whites.

2. That since 1875 or thereabouts, up to the adoption of the new Constitution, the Negro vote in the State of Alabama has been suppressed by intimidation and false returns; so that during the entire time the complete control of the state government has been in the hands of white men and the Democratic party.

3. That not a single Negro delegate held a seat in the convention which enacted this Constitution; it was composed exclusively of white men.

4. That the constitutional convention was called upon a party platform in which there was a pledge that no white man, however poor or ignorant, should be deprived of the franchise.

Upon the authority of Judge Cooley’s work on Constitutional Limitations, and the case of Ah Kow vs. Nunan, 5th Sawyer, 560, it is proper to refer to statements in debate on the passage of a law, for the purpose of ascertaining the general object of the legislation proposed, and the mischief sought to be remedied. If, then, we wish to know the purpose of the law, we have but to read the words of Mr. Knox himself, in his opening address as president of the constitutional convention:

“If the Negroes of the south should move in such numbers to the State of Massachusetts, or any other northern state, as would enable them to elect the officers, levy the taxes, and control the government and policy of that state, I doubt not they would be met in the spirit that the Negro laborers from the south were met in the State of Illinois, with bayonets led by a Republican governor, and firmly but emphatically informed that no quarter would be shown them in that territory.

“And what is it that we do want to do? Why, it is, within the limits imposed by the Federal Constitution, to establish white supremacy in this state.”

And so throughout the debate on these provisions the same or similar language was indulged in. Some of the delegates proposed openly to defy the Fifteenth Amendment by frankly writing it in the law that no Negro should be eligible to vote in Alabama. The prevailing opinion seemed to be that the enfranchisement of the Negro in the beginning was an insult and an outrage upon the southern white people to humiliate and degrade them, and it now became their duty in self-defense to disfranchise him as far as they could under the Amendment to the Federal Constitution.

Upon the authority of the Supreme Court of the United States, one cannot do indirectly unlawfully what one cannot do directly lawfully.

How could Mr. Knox keep his pledge not to disfranchise a single white man, made to his party, and at the same time keep his oath to support the Constitution of the United States? Which, think you, had the greater building force upon him? There being only white and black men in Alabama, and the convention being pledged not to disfranchise the whites, who else were there to be disfranchised but the Blacks. No matter how the thing was done, whether by a soldier clause or a grandfather clause, a temporary plan or a permanent plan, its purpose was unlawful and repugnant to the Fifteenth Amendment.

The well-settled rule of construction is that the form of a law by which an individual is deprived of constitutionality is immaterial. The test of the law’s constitutionality is whether it operates to deprive any person of a right guaranteed by the Constitution. If it does, it is a nullity, whatever may be its form.

Only one of many similar illustrations can be given of the administration of this law.

In the postoffice at Montgomery there are about eight or ten Colored clerks and carriers, all of them qualified under the United States Civil Service, who own their homes, each valued at upwards of a thousand dollars. Not one of these men, however, has been able to satisfy the board of registrars in Montgomery county of his good character, his ability to read or write, or that he was assessed with three hundred dollars’ worth of property. The Constitution thus administered has brought about the following results:

In the county of Montgomery, where there are more than 5000 qualified Negro electors, only 47 were allowed to register. And in the whole State of Alabama, with about two hundred thousand qualified Negro electors, only about two thousand five hundred were allowed to register; while all the white men in the state who applied—183,234—were given certificates of qualification for life.

Mr. Knox is also in error when he says that the Negroes of Alabama disqualify themselves by failing to pay their capitation tax, which is a prerequisite for voting.

The payment of the poll tax without also being registered does not give the right to vote in Alabama; and the payment of this tax is not a prerequisite for registration. The truth is, the boards of registrars refuse to register qualified Negroes, no matter what their qualification, or what property they own, or what taxes they have paid, except in such cases as seem to suit their whims. The qualified Negro thus refused is wholly remediless.

The Alabama Constitution provides that any person to whom registration is denied shall have the right of appeal to the Circuit Court. At the trial the solicitor for the state shall appear and defend against the petitioner on behalf of the state. The judge shall charge the jury only as to what constitutes the qualifications to entitle the applicant to become an elector at the time he applied for registration, and the jury shall determine the weight and effect of the evidence and return a verdict. From the judgment rendered an appeal lies to the Supreme Court in favor of the petitioner.

This law, we submit, is an absolute farce. It provides for an appeal from a partisan board to a partisan jury, composed exclusively of white men with the state solicitor, a partisan officer, appearing for the state against the elector. The hands of the trial judge are tied, so that he can only charge the jury as to what constitutes qualifications. The jury are thus made the sole judges of the case, and their decision is final, because nothing but an issue of fact can arise at the trial. Every lawyer knows that an appellate court cannot disturb the verdict of a jury on any disputed issue of fact, and hence on appeal to the Supreme Court the appeal was dismissed, the Court would avail nothing.

The case of the state vs. Crenshaw, 138 Alabama, 506, from Limestone county, referred to by Mr. Knox, in no way supports his contention, and really decides nothing. It has been ascertained that this case was specially made up to induce Negroes to abandon the Federal Courts and seek the State Courts. As arranged, the jury in the Circuit Court reversed the registrars, but on appeal to the Supreme Court the appeal was dismissed, the Court holding that the Constitution gave the right of appeal only to the person refused registration and not to the registrars.

The deception becomes obvious when we consider how utterly impossible it would be for the courts of Alabama, as at present constituted, to carry on their regular business and determine the cases of two hundred thousand qualified Negroes refused registration.

Noble work in the Black Belt

BY H. D. SLATTER

Of a truth we may say that the upward career of the average Negro reads like a romance of the wildest creation. The terrible struggle to overcome the ignorance and superstition which slavery imposed upon him, the bitter contest with the phantoms of darkness, the persistent advancement into the light of intelligence with the shadow of a long record of intense cruelty and suffering constantly threatening before him and with the gloom of an inexorable race prejudice threatening his onward march toward a higher and grander civilization, this new citizen, undaunted by barriers of whatever sort, is forging his way to the front in every noble cause. Many inspiring examples of usefulness on the part of earnest young men who have received their training at such Institutions as Hampton and Tuskegee may be found in all sections of the south; but we know of few who are so unselfishly devoted to the work of elevating the masses of the race as Prof. William H. Holtzclaw, principal of the Utica Normal and Industrial institute, located one mile from the town of Utica, on a branch of the Yazoo and Mississippi Valley railroad in the very heart of the Black Belt of Mississippi, where the Negroes outnumber the whites seven to one.

Professor Holtzclaw was born in Roanoke, Alabama in 1872. At an early age he heard of Dr. Booker T. Washington and later attended the Tuskegee Institute where he received such convictions as to the wisdom of the principal’s course as to inspire him with the ambition to supplement, if possible, this great work. After his graduation he went to Snow Hill, also where he worked for four years in the Snow Hill institute, rising to the responsible position of treasurer of that institution. While at Snow Hill he made a very careful study of the condition of the Colored people in various parts of the south and settled upon Mississippi as the state in which he might render most valuable service.

In October, 1902, leaving his wife in Alabama, he started for Utica, where, with unflagging industry he succeeded in opening a school under an oak tree in the forest one mile from the town. As soon as he was able to secure a cabin in which to teach the young people flocked in great numbers to his school. In a very short while he had 200 pupils in daily attendance. One teacher after another was employed; but the struggle was most distressing when he found that he could not raise money enough to pay them. During all this time he was trying to arouse the interest of the people. He went from door to door explaining his efforts, then made a tour of the churches; after riding or walking ten miles at night, he would return and teach the next day. After a protracted struggle of this kind and after visiting nearly everybody for miles, he secured about $600.

Forty acres of land were purchased and part of the lumber for a comfortable building was put on the ground. Some of the trustees in New York City and Boston came to his assistance and with this and contributions from a few other friends, he was able to get through that first year. Although it was a struggle, he found in it some pleasure. To know that you are doing the work that the world needs and must have done is a pleasure, even under trying circumstances. It is doubtful if any school started as a result of Tuskegee’s teaching ever accomplished more in the same length of time, during its first year of existence than was true of the Utica Normal and Industrial Institute.

Starting in October, 1902, without a cent, in the open air, he succeeded in one year in establishing a regularly organized institution, incorporated under the laws of the state of Mississippi, with 225 students and seven teachers, and the property valued at $4000. On 40 acres of good farm land, about a mile from town, a model crop had been grown. He had erected a two-story frame building, at a cost of something over $4000. But in all this noble work Professor Holtzclaw was assisted by teachers whose co-operation made it possible for him to accomplish so much in so short a period.

[Illustration: PROF. W. H. HOLTZCLAW]

Miss Ada L. Hicks, lady principal of the institute, a graduate of the Snow Hill school and for a number of years a student at Spelman seminary, Atlanta, Ga., is one of the most helpful workers associated with the professor. She is deeply concerned about the work and is painstaking in every effort.

Miss Clara J. Lee, head of the academic work of the institute was born on a farm in the neighborhood of Utica. She finished the normal course in Tongaloo university, located in the beautiful little village of Tongaloo, in the very middle of the state of Mississippi, just a few miles from Jackson, the capital. She started to work with Professor Holtzclaw immediately upon her graduation and her services have been invaluable. Her endeavors are highly appreciated by the principal.

The work which Professor Holtzclaw is doing in the Black Belt of Mississippi is of incalculable value.

* * * * *

“I sometimes think we’re growing up To be a wondrous people, But yet, I fear, in building we’re Commencing with the steeple. Without a basis broad and deep, With virtue its foundation, And truth and bright as corner-stones, We can not build a nation.”

—Daniel Webster Davis.

AND WHEN LOVE IS BLIND

A THRILLING STORY OF HOW LOVE PLAYS UPON THE HEART AND SOUL

BY ALICE MAUD MEADOWS

WRITTEN FOR ALEXANDER’S MAGAZINE

Chapter I.

“I wish,” Nora Desmond colored ever so slightly, “one of you would tell me what Mr. Le Strange is like!”

Mrs. Desmond and Nancy Desmond looked at one another sharply, something like a warning glance passed between them.

“Like?” Mrs. Desmond repeated, faintly.

“Yes—like,” Nora returned. “I know he’s tall and big. I know he has a pleasant voice, a merry laugh; I know”—her strange, pretty eyes grew shy, though they saw nothing, never had seen anything since her fourth birthday—“he is the kindest man in the whole wide world; but I want to know what his face is like—that’s natural, isn’t it, since”—a trifle defiantly—“since we are such good friends?”

“Quite natural,” Mrs. Desmond answered. “What would you like to know—the color of his eyes?”

Once more she looked at Nancy; the girl shrugged her shoulders, and made a helpless sort of gesture.

“Of course,” Nora said, “the color of his eyes, his hair, what sort of a nose and mouth he has, whether he wears a mustache. I should like a word picture of him. You know,” she sighed softly, “it’s all the picture I can see.”

For some reason or other, both Mrs. and Miss Desmond looked relieved.

“John Le Strange has very good features, indeed,” Mrs. Desmond answered; “a straight nose, a good mouth and really beautiful eyes. His hair is brown, with a natural wave in it. I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who could deny John has good features. As for the nature of the man, it’s absolutely the sweetest I have ever known.”

A very pretty smile crossed Nora’s lips, a tender expression entered the sightless eyes.

“The sweetest nature you have ever known,” she repeated. “One couldn’t have a nicer thing said than that. Looks are a great deal, of course—I so love everything beautiful, but a lovely nature is even more than a lovely exterior. I—why, that’s John’s footstep; he’s earlier than usual today, isn’t he?”

John Le Strange boarded in the house of Mrs. Desmond; had lived in her house now for ten years, almost ever since the death of Terrence Desmond, leaving his widow not very well provided for.

A look of pleased expectancy shone upon the girl’s face; then, as the footsteps passed the door, went slowly upstairs, it died away.

“His footfall sounds tired tonight,” she said, more to herself than the others, “as though some trouble is upon him. I wish, mother”—it was curious how directly she seemed to look at her mother—“you would go up to him, just to see that nothing is wrong. He’s been an inmate of your house so long now, you must feel almost like a mother to him.”

Once more Mrs. Desmond glanced at Nancy.

“I dare say he’s fagged out,” she answered. “Men mostly are when they come home from their work. Why not go and ask him yourself, Nora? You’re his favorite.”

A smile flashed into the girl’s face, in her eyes, on her lips, dimpling her cheeks. She had been beautiful before; she was absolutely lovely now.

“His favorite!” she repeated. “Mother, do you really think so? Of course, he pities me—everyone does; everyone is kind to me—but, apart from that, do you really, really think I am his favorite—in spite of my blindness?”

Mrs. Desmond rose, cross the room, put her hand upon the girl’s shoulder.

“I don’t think—I know,” she returned. “He thinks more of you than he thinks of anyone in the wide, wide world! That’s something to be proud of, Nora.”

She rose slowly, her little hands tightly clasped.

“Something to be very, very proud of!” she returned. “But how wonderful that is, mother!”

She moved across the room without stretching out her hands. No one who did not know would have supposed her to be blind.

“She will marry him, of course,” Nancy said, when she was out of hearing, “because she is blind; she never would if she could see!”

Chapter II.

Just as quietly as she had gone from her mother’s sitting room, Nora mounted the stairs, knocked at the door, and, in answer to a quiet “Come in,” uttered in a singularly beautiful voice, entered.

By a table, with the full glare of a lamp shining upon him, sat a man. So far as his features went, Mrs. Desmond’s description had been accurate. The eyes that softened so wonderfully as he saw the girl were beautiful; for all that, the man was not pleasant to look upon. Smallpox of the most virulent type had seamed and scarred his face, making what should have been very fair almost terrible.

“You, Nora!” he said, springing to his feet. “How good of you to come and see me!” He made use, without thought, of the ordinary words. “Come to this chair; it’s the most comfortable in the room. You know that, don’t you?”

“And so you always give it to me, John,” she said. “I think you can’t help being like that—the best invariably for some one else. I wonder,”—her soft fingers closed on his hand as he led her to a chair—“why you are sad tonight—unhappy?”

He started, ever so slightly.

“How did you know?” he asked. “How wonderful you are, Nora!”

She was sitting now; he standing close beside her, worshipping her with his beautiful eyes, feeling he would give the whole world, were it his, to take this dear, blind girl in his arms and kiss her sweet lips.

“I suppose I know,” she answered, “because God, who is very just, has given me a greater power of perception of some things than those who can see—a fuller sympathy. Tell me what is wrong, John—why you are sad?”

He hesitated a moment; then very slowly, half timidly, he sank upon his knees.

“This is why,” he answered, and his hungry lips almost kissed her hand. “I want something that I dare not ask for, and yet if it could be mine how I would love and cherish it! I want something—some one to work for, to make money for; some one to surround with adoration and comfort, but I dare not—I dare not say to her I love you, because——”

He paused. She stretched out her hand and laid it unfalteringly upon his shoulder.

“Because she is blind, John?”

He covered her hand with his—then he covered it with kisses.

“No, no! A thousand times no!” he answered. “Oh, Nora, you know I love you—want you—you know your blindness makes you all the dearer to me! But you don’t know me as others know me—you have never seen me. If—if you should give yourself to me, you would be giving yourself to an unknown man. I think you care for me—but——”

“There is no but,” she interrupted. “I love you. As for knowing you, there is no one in the world I know so well. And today my mother has told me just what you are like—has so to speak, painted the picture of your every feature. I can look at you now with my mind’s eye—I am so glad, dear!”

He put his arm round her; he drew her gently to him; he kissed her lips.

“Little sweetheart!” he said. “Little wife to be! So your mother told you all? Are you sure you did not dislike the picture?”

With her slender, sensitive fingers she touched his features, one by one, smiling, but a little puzzled.

“Quite,” she answered; “and mother was right; your features are beautiful. Your skin is rough and rugged, different from mine—that is because you are a man, but you must not think”—one could scarcely believe she was not looking at the scarred face—“I love you for your beauty; I love you just because I love you—because I can’t help it. And I hope—I do hope, with all my heart—you will never regret your goodness in taking a blind girl to your heart—wanting her for your wife.”