of rape be fully established. They
know the men of the section of the country who refuse this are not so
desirous of punishing rapists as they pretend. The utterances of the
leading white men show that with them it is not the crime but the _class_.
Bishop Fitzgerald has become apologist for lynchers of the rapists of
_white_ women only. Governor Tillman, of South Carolina, in the month of
June, standing under the tree in Barnwell, S.C., on which eight
Afro-Americans were hung last year, declared that he would lead a mob to
lynch a _negro_ who raped a _white_ woman. So say the pulpits, officials
and newspapers of the South. But when the victim is a colored woman it is
different.

Last winter in Baltimore, Md., three white ruffians assaulted a Miss
Camphor, a young Afro-American girl, while out walking with a young man of
her own race. They held her escort and outraged the girl. It was a deed
dastardly enough to arouse Southern blood, which gives its horror of rape
as excuse for lawlessness, but she was an Afro-American. The case went to
the courts, an Afro-American lawyer defended the men and they were
acquitted.

In Nashville, Tenn., there is a white man, Pat Hanifan, who outraged a
little Afro-American girl, and, from the physical injuries received, she
has been ruined for life. He was jailed for six months, discharged, and is
now a detective in that city. In the same city, last May, a white man
outraged an Afro-American girl in a drug store. He was arrested, and
released on bail at the trial. It was rumored that five hundred
Afro-Americans had organized to lynch him. Two hundred and fifty white
citizens armed themselves with Winchesters and guarded him. A cannon was
placed in front of his home, and the Buchanan Rifles (State Militia)
ordered to the scene for his protection. The Afro-American mob did not
materialize. Only two weeks before Eph. Grizzard, who had only been
_charged_ with rape upon a white woman, had been taken from the jail, with
Governor Buchanan and the police and militia standing by, dragged through
the streets in broad daylight, knives plunged into him at every step, and
with every fiendish cruelty a frenzied mob could devise, he was at last
swung out on the bridge with hands cut to pieces as he tried to climb up
the stanchions. A naked, bloody example of the blood-thirstiness of the
nineteenth-century civilization of the Athens of the South! No cannon or
military was called out in his defense. He