The Battle for Christmas (52 page)

Without personal labor… a life of ease and idleness … awaiting the millennium … waiting for the jubilee
. For white Southerners these were also code words. What they meant was that many blacks had not returned to work for their old masters at war’s end (in fact, the crops of the 1865 season had largely gone unharvested), and that they were refusing to sign degrading labor contracts with their former masters for the coming season. Alabama landowner Henry Watson reported that “Not a solitary negro in the country has made a contract for next year. The soldiers told them not to make them, that if they did they would be branded and become slaves again!”
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Their refusal posed a serious threat to the regional economy and especially to the well-being of the planter class.

It also indicated that the freedmen might be politically organized. Whites tended to interpret the hopes of the freedmen as aggressive and threatening, a sign that they were ready to turn to violence. And whites, like blacks, looked to the Christmas season as the time when matters would finally come to a head. Interpretations varied as to precisely how, and for what reason, violence would break out. Some whites thought it would happen spontaneously.
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An Atlanta newspaper warned that the holiday might start out as a “frolic,” but that it would soon turn into something considerably more menacing. Emboldened by alcohol and encouraged by “bad white men,” the blacks could be easily “persuaded to … commit outrage and violence.” A planter from South Carolina told a visiting reporter that “some families will be murdered and some property destroyed,” and he concluded ominously,
“It will begin the work of extermination.”
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The fears of the one race commingled in a volatile fashion with the hopes of the other. As December approached, an increasing number of Southern whites became convinced that the freedmen were actively plotting an organized insurrection. All across the South, “apprehensions” of such an insurrection during the Christmas holidays were reported (and spread) by newspapers. In mid-November a Louisiana newspaper reported
that “there is an increasing dread of what may turn up in the future. The negroes are, by some means, procuring arms, and are daily becoming more insolent.” Toward the end of the month the
Cincinnati Daily Enquirer
headlined a story “
A NEGRO CONSPIRACY DISCOVERED IN MISSISSIPPI
” and explained that “a conspiracy had been organized among the blacks, extending from the Mississippi River to South Carolina, and that an insurrection was contemplated about Christmas.”
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Such stories were printed and reprinted by newspapers throughout the South. Some of the rumors were quite detailed. A letter printed in the
New Orleans True Delta
cited a “reliable” report that blacks would collectively revolt “on the night before Christmas” and “wreak their vengeance” on whites whose names had already been chosen. The victims were to be identified to their attackers “by signs and marks placed on each house and place of business”—these marks would consist of coded numbers, as well as the letters
X
and O “set in chalk marks.”
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I
T WAS
largely to the Freedmen’s Bureau that there fell the task of persuading the freedmen that Christmas would not be ushering in the “jubilee,” that further disruption of the Southern economy would harm them as well as whites, that the signing of labor contracts was now their best available recourse—and that insurrection would be futile. Under orders from President Johnson himself, the head of the Freedmen’s Bureau, General O. O. Howard, spent the late fall touring the South in order to communicate these points. On November 12, General Howard sent a policy statement to his staff:

On another occasion, General Howard warned the freedmen directly that there would be “no division of lands, that nothing is going to happen at Christmas, that… [you] must go to work [and] make contracts for next year…. [I]nsurrection will lead to nothing but [your] destruction.” Most agents of the Bureau dutifully (if reluctantly) passed along the word that the freedmens Christmas hopes were nothing but a pipe dream—or, as a Memphis newspaper put it, “a la mode Santa Claus.” Colonel William E. Strong, the bureaus inspector general, addressed a group of Texas freedmen in plain language:

But white Southerners were skeptical about whether such a cautionary message would be heeded by the black community. What was needed, one newspaper argued (in a sarcastic reference to the abolitionist leanings and the New England background of many Freedmen’s Bureau officials) was straight talk from “imposing” men “who were born at least one thousand miles distant from Cape Cod.” Of course, the planters themselves reiterated the message to their ex-slaves. But the slaves would not heed their warnings, either. As one Mississippi newspaper conceded, “It amounts to nothing for former masters and mistresses to read these orders to negroes…. They do not believe anything we can tell them.”
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Some whites consciously manipulated the fear of an insurrection as a way of convincing state and federal authorities to allow Southern whites to rearm themselves—and to disarm (and harass) the freedmen. An Alabama official used just such an argument in a letter to the governor of that state: “I am anxious to organize the local company. It is feared the negroes will be troublesome about Christmas unless there is some organization that can keep them in subjection.”
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But many whites were truly fearful. The mistress of one plantation near Columbia, South Carolina, later recalled how she was terrified by the
nocturnal singing that came from what until recently had been her slave cabins—singing that evoked “expectations of a horde pouring into our houses to cut our throats and dance like fiends over our remains.”
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It is possible that some African-Americans were indeed harboring thoughts (if not making plans) of a Christmas revolt. But those plans could hardly have amounted to a coordinated conspiracy. What is far more likely is an explanation that places both white fears and black hopes in the context of the intense expectations that normally surrounded Christmas on the slave plantarions. For if Christmas was a time when slaves expected gestures of paternalist largesse, it was also a time when they were used to “acting up.” (In that sense, the Atlanta paper may have been shrewd in suggesting that the Christmas insurrection might begin as a “frolic”)

What was happening in late 1865 was that a serious, contested set of political and economic issues—issues involving the radical redistribution of property and the radical realignment of power—chanced to converge with a holiday season whose ordinary rituals had always pointed, however symbolically, to just such a redistribution of property and just such a realignment of power. On both sides of the color line there was a shared mythos about Christmas that made the holiday loom with ominous weight in the watershed year of white defeat and black emancipation.

T
HERE WAS
no insurrection. Confrontations, yes—even, in a number of cities, violent riots. The most serious of these was in Alexandria, Virginia, where two people were killed. But it soon transpired that the Alexandria riot was actually initiated by whites, and that both victims were black. By December 28 or 29, it was clear that the danger had subsided. “The
ides
of Christmas are past,” one Southern paper proclaimed, “without any insurrection of the colored population of the late slave holding states. There is no probability of any combination of freedmen for hostile purposes; neither are they likely to combine, at present, for political or industrial objects.” Another paper simply reported that “some cases of collision between blacks and whites occurred on Christmas, but there was no organized demonstration on the part of the former.”
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It was now possible to reinterpret the events of December 25, to put them back into the old, familiar antebellum categories. Newspapers reassured their readers that such “collisions” as did occur were “isolated” events, and that they were not even political in nature but merely a
function of old-fashioned Christmas rowdiness—occasioned by alcohol, not ideology. The Virginia correspondent of a Washington newspaper reported with relief that “a few brawls in Norfolk and Portsmouth were the result of whiskey, and had no political significance whatever.” “Too much whiskey,” claimed one paper; “much bad whiskey,” added another; “some colored men, very much under the influence of bad whiskey,” chimed in a third.
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And the newspapers now reported arrests for drunkenness and disorderly conduct by placing their notices in the police log, not the political columns. The racial identity of the offenders now hardly mattered. On December 27, the
Richmond Daily Whig
reported that “Christmas was celebrated in this city with unprecedented hilarity.”

It was more a street than a home celebration. “King Alcohol” asserted his sway and held possession of the town from Christmas eve until yesterday morning. Liquor and fire-crackers had everything their own way. A disposition was manifested to make up for lost time. This was the first real old fashioned Christmas frolic that has been enjoyed in the South for four years. The pent up dissipations and festivities of four Christmas days were crowded into this one day….
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By December 29, the
New Orleans Picayune
even chose to use humor as a way of marginalizing the racial content of the violence that had indeed erupted in that city on Christmas Day. Under the heading “
EVERY ONE OUGHT
?
BE ELOQUENT IN HIS OWN DEFENSE
,” the paper reported that one white man, arrested on Christmas for rowdy behavior, testified in his defense: “‘Your honor, I am charged with being a disturber of the peace. It is a mistake, your honor. I have kept more than a hundred niggers off the streets these Christmas times. May it please your honor, I have a bad cold.’”The man’s case was dismissed.
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?
HE CRISIS
had passed, and it was now possible for white Southerners to return to the underlying problem—the collective refusal of the freedmen to work for their old masters. That would take care of itself, the New Orleans
Daily Picayune
explained, as the freedmen came to understand that their “true friends” were the Southern planter class and not the Northern demagogues who had falsely promised them land. When that truth at last dawned upon them—as it inevitably would—“they will learn where to learn their own true interest and duty.”

The same editorial went on to explain bluntly just what that would mean:

In other words, the freedmen would soon be forced back into virtual slavery. A newspaper in Richmond even resorted to a nostalgic evocation of the old interracial Christmas rituals, along with a rueful acknowledgment that the planters were unable to perform the role of patrons in the gift exchange. Not only would the freedmen fail to receive their masters’ land, but they might even have to do without the “usual presents” they customarily received on this occasion. But that was an aberration, indicating only that the planters were temporarily impoverished and not that race relations had changed:

The Richmond editor summed up the prospect by referring to the eclipse of an old tradition: “The familiar salutation of’Christmas gift, master,’ will not be heard.” But the real object of this nostalgia was the master’s loss, not the disappointment of his former slaves. That point came across clearly enough in the editor’s concluding shot, an expression of hope that in another year or so things would be back to normal for the freedmen—“that their future condition may be better than their condition is at present, and that the next Christmas may dawn upon a thrifty, contented and well regulated negro peasantry.”
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