largely responsible for the riot, and which was forced
to suspend publication when the business men of the
city withdrew their support. Just how much foundation
there was to the rumors may be seen from the following
report of the investigator: “Three, charged
to white men, attracted comparatively little attention
in the newspapers, although one, the offense of a man
named Turnadge, was shocking in its details.
Of twelve such charges against Negroes in the six
months preceding the riot, two were cases of rape,
horrible in their details, three were aggravated attempts
at rape, three may have been attempts, three were
pure cases of fright on the part of white women, and
in one the white woman, first asserting that a Negro
had assaulted her, finally confessed attempted suicide."[1]
On Friday, September 21, while a Negro was on trial,
the father of the girl concerned asked the recorder
for permission to deal with the Negro with his own
hand, and an outbreak was barely averted in the open
court. On Saturday evening, however, some elements
in the city and from neighboring towns, heated by
liquor and newspaper extras, became openly riotous
and until midnight defied all law and authority.
Negroes were assaulted wherever they appeared, for
the most part being found unsuspecting, as in the
case of those who happened to be going home from work
and were on street cars passing through the heart of
the city. In one barber shop two workers were
beaten to death and their bodies mangled. A lame
bootblack, innocent and industrious, was dragged from
his work and kicked and beaten to death. Another
young Negro was stabbed with jack-knives. Altogether
very nearly a score of persons lost their lives and
two or three times as many were injured. After
some time Governor Terrell mobilized the militia,
but the crowd did not take this move seriously, and
the real feeling of the Mayor, who turned on the hose
of the fire department, was shown by his statement
that just so long as the Negroes committed certain
crimes just so long would they be unceremoniously
dealt with. Sunday dawned upon a city of astounded
white people and outraged and sullen Negroes.
Throughout Monday and Tuesday the tension continued,
the Negroes endeavoring to defend themselves as well
as they could. On Monday night the union of some
citizens with policemen who were advancing in a suburb
in which most of the homes were those of Negroes,
resulted in the death of James Heard, an officer, and
in the wounding of some of those who accompanied him.
More Negroes were also killed, and a white woman to
whose front porch two men were chased died of fright
at seeing them shot to death. It was the disposition,
however, on the part of the Negroes to make armed resistance
that really put an end to the massacre. Now followed
a procedure that is best described in the words of
the prominent apologist for such outbreaks. Said
A.J. McKelway: “Tuesday every house
in the town (i.e., the suburb referred to above) was