Denmarck Vesey was a free black man living in antebellum Charleston, South Carolina in the 1820’s. He had a job and a few resources, but he was fiercely angry about the slavery that poisoned the lives of his fellow blacks. And so in 1822 he used his meager earnings to buy weapons in the hopes of beginning a slave rebellion that would spread quickly, much like the one that John Brown planned 30 years later. His small conspiracy was soon discovered, however, the conspirators were killed, and Denmarck Vesey himself was publicly executed. But his name and story lived on in Charleston, as a cautionary tale to white slave owners and as a model of resistance to the blacks who were to remain in slavery for another 40 years.
The good white people of antebellum Charleston were not overly endowed with moral intelligence, but they could count. Blacks, most of them slaves, outnumbered whites by a factor of nine to one from 1800 until at least emancipation in the low country. The idea of an armed slave rebellion was for several reasons a recurring nightmare for the white population, especially for those wealthy enough to own slaves. First, of course, that population understood that they would probably lose their lives in such a rebellion. But they also knew that they would lose their wealth since most of that wealth was embodied in the slaves that they traded, raped, and overworked to maintain their life style. Slaves, in other words, not only produced wealth for their owners, they were themselves a form of human currency.
Denmarck Vesey’s Garden is a remarkably insightful and detailed history of slavery as seen through the very specific lens of Charleston’s white and black populations. It moves from the late 18th century, by which time Charleston had become the largest slave-trading center in America, through the Civil War when Charleston lost its wealth, to Reconstruction, the long Jim Crow era, the beginnings of the Civil Rights movement, all the way to the Obama administration. It is a complicated and tortured history, but what makes the book worth reading is that it documents how the city’s leaders, newspapers, intellectuals, and citizens spent more than 150 years denying that its actual history was real. Through multiple acts of willful amnesia, erasure, and outright deceit, the city of Charleston literally whitewashed its fierce commitment to slavery and its long abuse of black citizens. Most of Charleston’s history of itself is, in other words, a carefully crafted fantasy that has more in common with Disney World than with the lives people actually lived there.
The revisionist history began, of course, with the need for money. The Civil War was not kind to Charleston. The Union Army never forgot that the war began in the Charleston harbor when Confederate soldiers fired at Fort Sumter or that South Carolina was the first state to secede from the Union. So it seemed to take special care to attack the city as vigorously as possible. Union ships fired on Charleston almost continuously throughout the conflict. Houses were burned or otherwise destroyed, public buildings and private businesses were left in ruins, the slaves were freed, and Confederate currency was rendered worthless. From the end of the Civil War until the end of Reconstruction in 1876, whites were almost as poor as blacks and were no more likely to hold political office than their former slaves. All that ended however, when Union soldiers left the south—a moment that the south called “Redemption.” Blacks were stripped of their right to vote, arbitrarily arrested, tethered to jobs without compensation as punishment, and, of course, lynched with horrifying frequency.
But that didn’t solve the money problem. To address that issue, Charleston had to cast off its reputation as the Wall Street of slave sales and reinvent itself as a “lost cause” theme park. Starting in the 1890’s, tourism became the major industry. Homes were rebuilt, sometimes with cheap materials, to resemble the look of the Old South. Some lucky blacks were hired to serve as token “darkies” in the streets and on the rehabilitated, but unproductive plantations. They told scripted stories of how happy they had been as slaves and how kindly their masters had treated them. The map of the city was changed. What was the center of the slave trade, the centrally located Ryan’s Market, was erased from the city’s grid. It had never existed. The slave quarters that were a part of every plantation and many of the large houses in town became “carriage houses.” Slaves were actually “servants.” And the cause of the Civil War was never slavery. It was about states’ rights, about freedom of choice, about honoring community and tradition, about old time religion, and about protecting and supporting the poor, illiterate black people who couldn’t really look out for themselves.
The revisionist project was the work of many hands. In order to protect the young, history textbooks had to be re-written by southern scholars, many of them sons and daughters of confederate veterans, who would tell the truth about slavery, about the Civil War, and later about Jim Crow. Newspapers were at pains to make black crime, ignorance, and sexual danger as visible as possible. Tours of the city and the surrounding plantations always emphasized the period before the Civil War. In Charleston, it was as if history stopped in 1861.
Beginning in 1910, to celebrate the 50th anniversary of South Carolina’s secession from the Union, white Charleston held its first annual “Secession Ball” at which women dressed in southern belle fashions complete with parasols while men wore plantation era suits, and all drank mint juleps in quantity. Blacks in white jackets were allowed to serve.
Some white social clubs, nostalgic for the old days of contented slaves, sought to revive the musical spirituals that blacks had created in their communities as a stay against despair. Those spirituals were in fact, beginning to be forgotten because they had seldom been written down and even more seldom set to written music. So the white clubs learned the words from their servants and wrote down the music as their servants sang them, and then gave concerts around town, again dressed in plantation chic.
These social clubs had names, of course—the Daughters of the Confederacy, the Sons of the Confederacy, and perhaps the most chilling, the “Children of the Confederacy.” In meetings of the latter, children beginning at about the age of 8 would be told to memorize answers from “The Confederate Catechism” (2014), a copy of which I was able to easily find on the web. This review is going long, so I’m only going to quote one question and answer.
“Was slavery the cause of secession or the war?”
“No. Slavery existed previous to the Constitution and the Union was formed in spite of it. Both from the standpoint of the Constitution and sound statesmanship it was not slavery, but the vindictive, intemperate anti-slavery movement that was at the bottom of the troubles. The North having formed a union with a lot of States inheriting slavery, common honesty dictated that it should respect the institutions of the South, or, in the case of a change of conscience, should secede from the Union. But it did neither. Having possessed itself of the Federal Government, it set up abolition as it’s particular champion, made war upon the South, freed the Negroes without regard to time or consequences, and held the South as conquered.”
Over the last ten years (roughly corresponding to the election of a black person as president), Charleston has become much more inclusive in the stories it tells about itself. The slave trading center that for a 100 years had never existed can now be visited, bus tours can be taken that focus on the African-American experience in the city, and concerts can now be heard where African-Americans themselves sing the spirituals that their forbearers created. Still, Charleston is a place where one can study how history really is a story that can always be revised. This book is a good place to begin that study.