Groundwork

Charles Hamilton Houston and the Struggle for Civil Rights

Genna Rae McNeil

• Publisher: University of Pennsylvania Press
• Year: 2011
• ISBN:
  9780812200836
• Topic: Law
• Subtopic: Civil Rights in Law
• Index: Law

"A classic.... [It] will make an extraordinary contribution to the improvement of race relations and the understanding of race and the American legal process."—Judge A. Leon Higginbotham, Jr., from the ForewordCharles Hamilton Houston (1895-1950) left an indelible mark on American law and society. A brilliant lawyer and educator, he laid much of the legal foundation for the landmark civil rights decisions of the 1950s and 1960s. Many of the lawyers who won the greatest advances for civil rights in the courts, Justice Thurgood Marshall among them, were trained by Houston in his capacity as dean of the Howard University Law School. Politically Houston realized that blacks needed to develop their racial identity and also to recognize the class dimension inherent in their struggle for full civil rights as Americans.Genna Rae McNeil is thorough and passionate in her treatment of Houston, evoking a rich family tradition as well as the courage, genius, and tenacity of a man largely responsible for the acts of "simple justice" that changed the course of American life.

PART ONE

Prologue to Struggle: The Formative Years 1829—1924

I was determined that if I lived I was going to have something to say about how this country should be run.

—Charles Hamilton Houston

Recollections of World War I—“Saving the World for Democracy,” 14 September 1940

CHAPTER I

The Inheritance

The story of Charles Hamilton Houston—“Charlie” to those who knew him well—begins long before his birth. Who he was and how he met life and handled its changing fortunes were, in part, givens. Charles Houston was more than the sum of his experiences. No one could know him without being struck by the Houston tradition he proudly carried on and the Hamilton legacy announced and celebrated by his presence. These were deeply rooted and basic.

The Houstons emerge from anonymity when Thomas Jefferson Hunn, born on 10 August 1829 to slave parents in Kentucky, resolved to run away and change his name. Bound to a cruel and violent master in Missouri at an early age, he never viewed his slave status as something he could accept for life. It seemed to him that animals could be bought and sold and beat into submission by an owner, but human beings were different and were—or ought to be—free. Finding himself in this predicament, Hunn resisted his bondage and oppression in a way that was to set an example for his progeny.¹

“Absolutely unafraid,” the young Hunn quietly attempted to free himself by a variety of means at every opportunity. He had run away, gotten caught, been jailed, and been returned to the plantation so often that in the circles of the white authorities he was known as a repeater. Frequent attempted escapes netted him more cruel treatment, but each attempt served to narrow the viable strategies and strengthen his resolve. One night, after an unusually vicious beating by his master, Hunn attempted another escape that proved to be the final one. Seeing that the beating had left Hunn’s right leg badly injured, his master left him to suffer the pain. Determined to bring an end to far greater pain, Hunn found a loose stick, which he used as a cane, and during the night he left Missouri. He had not gone far before “[h]e broke his right ankle ... [but] he could not risk medical aid for fear he would [be] ... arrested as a fugitive slave.” “With a limp which he would have the rest of his life,” Hunn walked toward Illinois and took a new surname, Houston. No one in the family remembered the reason for that choice of name, but the purpose had been explained: “to throw the slave hunters off his track.”²

A man of “deep and provoking faith” in the providence of a just, beneficent God, Thomas Jefferson Houston “became a conductor on the underground railroad between Missouri and Illinois, repeatedly crossing the Mississippi River to bring slaves into free territory.”³ He was, above all, disturbed by the moral and spiritual questions raised by slavery as inhumane oppression, and as would become characteristic of future Houstons, he felt compelled to act in accordance with fundamental convictions. This he did with courage and resoluteness. In later generations, when among some Houstons religious fervor waned, this moral sense endured.

On one run as a conductor, Thomas Jefferson Houston returned to his former master’s land and carried his mother and brothers Charles, Henry, and Chester to Cairo, Illinois, where Thomas made his home whenever he was not on a run. After aiding the family in escape, Thomas Jefferson—known to his family and friends as T.J.—was joined by his brother Charles in the underground railroad work. Although it was T.J. who was called to preach in 1849 and ordained as a Baptist minister, Charles carried the Bible on their frequent trips, while T.J. carried a gun. The gun was a form of protection, but not frequently used in the underground railroad work. In connection with their dangerous work, T.J. Houston started a family tradition of using clever and persuasive arguments to accomplish a task when the odds were against success. On one occasion, after the onset of the Civil War, he ran into Union troops as he was taking an unusually large number of fugitive slaves to a river crossing and safety in Illinois. According to family oral tradition, at that moment Thomas Jefferson Houston relied on God, a quick wit, and a remarkable resemblance to Ulysses S. Grant. He calmly informed the officer in charge that he was a friend of Grant awaiting an escort to cross the river with his contraband. He secured not only safe passage but also a meeting with Ulysses Grant later. Thereafter, out of his zeal to support a war that might bring slavery to an end, T.J. attached himself to Grant’s troops, which were based in Cairo. In 1862 he served as a teamster in the Battle of Corinth and became General Grant’s unofficial personal bodyguard, remaining with him—for the most part—through the fall of Richmond in April 1865.⁴

As were other black men traveling with the Union troops—especially those unofficially attached—Houston was sometimes permitted to “pass the lines.”⁵ In most cases this happened on national holidays or when there was family business to which a man needed to attend. In Houston’s case, however, his temporary leaves were prompted by his faithfulness to his “call to preach” and his decision to minister to blacks miles away. It was on such an occasion that T.J. Houston first saw Katherine Theresa Kirkpatrick, who later became Mrs. Thomas Jefferson Houston. Katherine Theresa was a lovely almond-brown young lady, the eighteenth offspring of Minerva and Reuben Kirkpatrick. She was born on 10 August 1849 in Burkesville, Kentucky, at the plantation of Milton King. When yet a girl of seven, Kate’s slave parents, grieving and bitter, were forced to say good-bye to her, as King sent Kate to serve his son, who was moving to Paducah, Kentucky Good fortune came to Katherine later when the entire King family moved to Paducah, reuniting Katherine with her mother and siblings. The move was not without its sadness, however, for it was Milton King’s decision to leave the husband and father, Reuben, behind. Because her marriage was ended by a forcible separation, Katherine’s mother could remarry without the stigma of sin. After some time, Katherine’s mother married Reuben Harris and bore two children for him.⁶ Pondering that mode of human relationships and King’s obliviousness to the human feelings of his slaves, Katherine wrote much later, “[T]hey were very very cruel to us in a good many things.... Strange that they should have been so cruel to my mother when my mother nursed [the] mistress.”⁷

The death of her mother and the cruelty of her owners compelled Katherine to run away In 1862, with the help of “Uncle Pete” Andrews (a brother-in-law’s father), who worked as a porter on a boat, the girl of slight build managed to hide aboard the General Anderson, which ran on the Ohio River from Paducah to Cairo, Illinois. In Illinois, Katherine hired herself out, but found each succeeding employer more inhumane. So when the husband of one of the King daughters approached Kate about living with them in St. Louis, Missouri, she told him she would. Victoria King Sweetney and her husband seemed more considerate; Katherine welcomed relief from constant abuse. Yet in the months to come she found she simply could not feel satisfied or safe with the Sweetneys.⁸ At first this was merely an uneasiness; later she felt that she must move on. One evening, as if her mother were in the room, Katherine heard her mother warn, “Marse Milton is coming after you and is going to take you as far south as he can to sell you.” Katherine forthwith announced to her mistress that she was leaving the Sweetney household. She collected her few belongings and “went away out on Olive Street.” She later recalled, “I got a place just by going from door to door where I worked and kept myself hidden. I was on the street one day and got a glimpse of Mr. King who was my master. I guess he was looking for me.... [But] I kept out of sight.”⁹

One night, when Katherine and her girlfriends attended a church service celebrating the Emancipation Proclamation, Thomas Jefferson Houston first saw his wife-to-be. He noticed her dress, her hat, her coat—every detail. Katherine was so striking. She, on the other hand, “did not know him [and] [n]ever thought of him. It never occurred to [her] that anybody was paying any attention to [her] whatever.” Yet, as fate would have it, in three years the two were brought together again. Katherine returned to Cairo, Illinois, and who but Thomas Jefferson Houston was the new pastor of the church she had chosen to attend. When she was taken to meet the pastor, he said, “I have seen you before.” She replied, “No, I think not.” He then asked her if she recalled the meeting in St. Louis three years earlier, and he described precisely her attire. A three-month revival was held at the church, and during that time Katherine “professed religion.” After her profession of faith, the Rev. T.J. Houston, twenty years her senior, proposed to Katherine. She recalled,

[H]e asked me when could I be ready and I told him in about a year. That did not seem to suit him. I asked would six months be soon enough. He said, “I could be married and forgot in that time,[”] so we were engaged. I told him to set the time. We were engaged on Wednesday night and married the following Sunday afternoon [29 April 1866].¹⁰

Over a year after the end of the Civil War, these two escaped slaves began a new life together as legally free people. No longer needing to run and hide, Katherine and Thomas moved into a one-room cabin in rural Illinois and readied the land for crops. Thomas worked his Illinois farm all week and then on Saturdays traveled on horseback and by canoe to Cape Girardeau, Missouri, where he preached on Sundays. Every Sunday evening he then crossed the Mississippi River again and traveled all night until he reached home on Monday. After 1868, Thomas came to be in greater demand, and so he traveled to churches in Cape Girardeau and also in Metropolis, Illinois, on alternate Sundays.¹¹

Between 1868 and 1887, T.J. and Katherine moved often. They lived in Metropolis, Mound City, and Cairo, Illinois, before traveling to Paducah, Kentucky, and Evansville, Indiana, in search of better opportunities. During this time Thomas learned a new trade and worked weekdays as a renovator of featherbeds and pillows. He loved his church work, but by 1887 Katherine had given birth seven times, and he had five children to feed, clothe, and educate: Evangeline Leque (1868), William LePre (1870), Clotill Marconier (1879), Ulysses Lincoln (1881), and Theophilus Jerome (1885).¹²

Before Theophilus reached school age, the family moved away from Evansville, Indiana. Katherine was constantly talking with her husband about making possible more advantages and, above all, more education for their children. In July 1890, after consultation with her husband and with his consent, blessing, and the tools of her hairdressing trade, which he had purchased for her, Katherine Houston went to Washington, D.C. She “left husband and children [none of whom were infants] and everything behind until [she] could ... look over the city to see what she could do in [her] line of business.” Many “banged their doors in [her] face” before Katherine Houston found one friendly patron.¹³ She confidently persevered, armed with “her bible and her faith in the Lord.”¹⁴ After she began practicing her trade in Washington, her reputation for fine work in the “weaving of hair, braides, curls, switches and puffs” led her to become the hairdresser for the wife of President Grover Cleveland.¹⁵ In December 1890 the success of her business and the financial assistance of her son William enabled her to bring her four younger children to Washington, D.C. They shared rented dwellings and waited for Thomas Houston to settle business affairs in Evansville. He joined them early in 1891 and soon after was called to the pastorate of the First Baptist Church of Bladensburg, Maryland. By March of the same year, the Houstons were able to rent their first home in Washington, D.C., at 1607 Nineteenth Street, Northwest, near Q Street.¹⁶ Thus it was that Katherine and Thomas Jefferson Houston paved the way for a second generation’s less arduous sojourn in the nation’s capital and became an enduring source of strength and inspiration for their descendants.

For William Houston, the eldest son of T.J. and Katherine, the decision to move to the District of Columbia was a less difficult one. It was the sole municipality providing opportunities he believed essential to his future well-being, although it held the dubious distinction of being glaringly at variance with the professed ideals of the nation. By virtue of an act of June 1878, the federal government shared the expenses of the District of Columbia in exchange for total control over purse strings and policy. Ultimate authority for the governing of Washington, D.C., was vested by the Constitution in the Congress of the United States. Pursuant to the 1878 Organic Act and an 1874 act of Congress, the District was presided over by three presidentially appointed commissioners with no accountability to the local populace. (Earlier, local autonomy had been part of a Reconstruction experiment, and as a consequence the District, having then an aggressive black electorate, had municipal programs and even ordinances that attempted to improve the quality of life for all residents and prohibit discrimination.) By 1890, the 75,572 black and 154,605 white residents were virtually powerless, and racial discrimination was not unusual.¹⁷

Powerlessness was practically the only thing whites and blacks of the District held in common. Whereas once blacks (admittedly depending on color, class, and position) and whites might be seen in some of the same restaurants, theaters, and hotels, by the 1890s proprietors in Washington, D.C., began to separate blacks and whites. This Washington, D.C., could no longer boast of having black elite in the Social Register, a black president of Georgetown University, a black opera company performing at Ford’s Theater or nationally prominent politicians gathering at the prestigious Wormley Hotel (owned by a black entrepreneur) to discuss the nation’s future.¹⁸ Although “lines weren’t drawn in [all] the hotels ... [or] the National Theater” to exclude blacks absolutely, antidiscrimination statutes of 1869 and 1870 were often conveniently ignored by whites.¹⁹

Blacks in the District, generally speaking, were less well-to-do than whites. For numerous reasons—not the least of which were racial discrimination, color prejudice, and a high rate of illiteracy among blacks—conditions began to worsen in the decade before the turn of the century. Blacks did not have equal access to employment opportunities ...