THE WHITE REVOLUTION

Democratic Constitution in South Africa Struggle against Apartheid • Apartheid was the name of a system of racial discrimination unique to South Africa. • This system was particularly oppressive for the blacks. → They were forbidden from living in white areas. • Since 1950, the blacks, coloured and Indians fought against the apartheid system. • The African National Congress (ANC) was the umbrella organisation that led the struggle against the policies of segregation. • In 1964, Nelson Mandela and seven other leaders were sentenced to life imprisonment in 1964 for daring to oppose the apartheid regime in his country. Towards a New Constitution • As protests and struggles against apartheid had increased, the white regime changed its policies. • After 28 years of imprisonment, Nelson Mandela released from jail. • At the midnight of 26 April 1994, democracy was adopted as a form of government in South Africa. • After two years, a constitution came out which gave to its citizens the most extensive rights available in any country. Why do we need a Constitution? • A constitution is necessary because: → It generates a degree of trust and coordination that is necessary for different kind of people to live together. → It specifies how the government will be constituted, who will have power to take which decisions. → It lays down limits on the powers of the government and tells us what the rights of the citizens are. → It expresses the aspirations of the people about creating a good society. Making of the Indian Constitution • In 1928, Motilal Nehru and eight other Congress leaders drafted a constitution for India. • In 1931, the resolution at the Karachi session of the Indian National Congress dwelt on how independent India’s constitution should look like. • Factors contributed to the making of our Constitution. → Ideals of French Revolution → The practice of parliamentary democracy in Britain → The Bill of Rights in the US → The socialist revolution in Russia The Constituent Assembly • In July 1946, Elections to the Constituent Assembly were held. → The drafting of the document called the constitution was done Constituent Assembly. → Dr. Rajendra Prasad was the Chairman of the Constituent Assembly. → In December 1946, the first meeting was held. • After the country was divided into India and Pakistan, the Constituent Assembly also got divided. • The Assembly adopted the Constitution on 26 November 1949 but it came into effect on 26 January 1950. • To mark this day we celebrate January 26 as Republic Day every year. • The Constituent Assembly worked in a systematic, open and consensual manner. → First some basic principles were decided and agreed upon. → Then a Drafting Committee chaired by Dr. B.R. Ambedkar prepared a draft constitution for discussion. → More than two thousand amendments were considered. Philosophy of the Constitution • The Constitution begins with a short statement of its basic values which is called the Preamble to the constitution. The preamble focuses on: → Justice, social, economic and political. → Liberty of thoughts, expression, belief, faith and worship. → Equality of status and of opportunity. → Fraternity assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the nation.

Chapter 8: The Worlds of North and South Geography Geography refers to the seasons, climate, soil, and physical features of a region (mountains, rivers, etc.) The differences in geography b/t the N and S is one of the major reasons slavery b/c entrenched in the S while it died out in the N. Geography of the North The N has diverse geography and experiences four distinct seasons including long, harsh winters. The Great Plains region has some of the best farmland in the country. New England has rocky, hilly wilderness, not well suited for farming. It has hundreds of bays and harbors along its coastline. States farther S had rich soil and coastal access through rivers. The N also experienced mass deforestation b/c of the need for lumber and to make room for farms. Geography of the South Climate: the S had mild winters, and a long, hot, humid growing season. It has fertile lowlands, marshes and swamps. It's ideal for growing tobacco, sugar, rice, indigo, and cotton (cash crops). B/c of the geography of the S, their whole way of life was based on agriculture and geography is one of the major reasons why slavery took off in the S. Economies Economy basically refers to the way people make and spend money. The Northern economy was far more diversified than the Southern. Economy of the North The North experienced the Industrial Revolution—the shift from handmade goods to machine-made goods. This resulted in new jobs, increased production, and improved efficiency in agriculture. IOW, you can make things faster, easier, and cheaper. More ppl get more stuff. Factories were almost always located next to rivers. The Reaper The Indust. Rev. changed northern agriculture with Cyrus McCormick’s reaper. It could cut 28xs more grain than a single man. The Sewing Machine Elias Howe's sewing machine; At 250 stitches a minute, Howe's lockstitch mechanism out-stitched the output of five hand seamstresses with a reputation for speed, completing in one hour what took the sewers 14.5 hours. The Textile Mill Francis Cabot Lowell's textile mill: essentially the first factory in the US, Lowell set the model for all future factories. Interchangeable Parts Eli Whitney's interchangeable parts; considered the "dawning of a new age" of machinery. This concept was applied to pretty much all manufacturing. Economy of the South The South's economy was based on AGRICULTURE. Most southerners were agrarians. Most had small farms, some owned plantations. Slavery beginning to decline in late 1700s; prices went down (tobacco, indigo) and cotton was difficult. King Cotton Cotton was South’s most important crop. Earned more money than all other exports combined. The S would go on to supply 75% of the world's cotton demand. Cotton Gin Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin in 1794 and forever changed the US. The gin made cotton incredibly profitable. We start to see the effects of the cotton gin around 1820. Slavery and Cotton Southerners put all their money into slaves and land, and almost none into building factories. With the spread of cotton, demand for slaves increased. 1790 to 1850, number of slaves rose 600%. Transportation Again, the N was far more inventive in their approach to transportation than the S. Transportation in the North National Road National Road stretched from the East (the Potomac), over the Appalachians, to the West (Illinois), over 620 miles. Steamboat In 1807, Robert Fulton invented the steamboat. It traveled 150 miles UP the Hudson River at a speed of 5 mph. Erie Canal Built b/t 1817 and 1825, the canal spanned 363 miles and connected Lake Erie to the Hudson River. This connected farms in the W to cities in the E and the Atlantic Ocean. Clipper Ship Clippers were narrow w massive sails that were built for speed. They cut the time it took to cross the Atlantic in half. Locomotive The fastest and cheapest way to move goods was by steam-powered trains. The first RR was the B&O which was built in 1827. Transportation in the South Most people and goods in the South traveled by rivers in steamboats. The South had trains, but less than half the amount of railroad track than the North had. Society (The People) The people who made up the N and S could not have been more different. The S was primarily agrarian while the N was b/c urbanized. The S was holding on to the past, while the N was embracing change. Society in the South Society was organized into 3 distinct classes of people: rich plantation owners at the top; then white farmers and workers; slaves on the bottom. This rigid social class system was the result of a slave-based agricultural system. Power Structure Only 1 in 4 whites owned a slave. Plantation owners, who owned more than 20 slaves, dominated politics and the economy. Society in the North 7 of 10 Northerners still lived on farms by the 1840s (6 of 10 by 1860), but urbanization was growing fast in the N. The N relied on wage labor as opposed to slave labor, so most blacks in the N were free. N blacks were not treated equally and the N was about as racist as the S. Immigration Compared to the S, the N population was exploding, in large part bc of immigration. Between 1845 and 1860, 4 million immigrants came to the North. Most were German and Irish. Irish--a potato famine; German--a failed revolution. Ethnic neighborhoods developed as a result.

A Brief History of Washington’s Crossing of the Delaware River, Christmas Night 1776... In the fall of 1776, General George Washington and his army had suffered a series of defeats at the hands of the British Army. The Continental Army had lost every battle with the British in the New York campaign: Long Island, Manhattan, Brooklyn Heights, Harlem and White Plains and had surrendered Fort Washington and Fort Lee. At Fort Lee, the army barely escaped and was forced to leave behind its store of provisions, ammunition, and many of its weapons. A sense of defeat had settled around Washington as he was forced to retreat across New Jersey in November and finally to Pennsylvania on December 8, 1776. The British, at least, considered the war over. By December 11th, the only reason the British had not taken Philadelphia, the seat of the Continental Congress, was that Washington had ordered every boat in the Delaware River on the New Jersey side to be brought to the Pennsylvania side, thus denying the British army transportation. Washington knew that the British would be capable of resuming an offensive by crossing the Delaware once it iced over. As the harsh winter set in, the morale of the American troops was at an all-time low. The soldiers were forced to deal with a lack of both food and warm clothing, while Washington watched his army shrink because of desertions and expiring enlistments. Now, more than ever, a victory was desperately needed. Washington devised a courageous plan to take the offensive and cross the Delaware River on Christmas night and attack the Hessian garrison at Trenton, New Jersey, nine miles south of his encampment near McConkey's Ferry. The original plan called for three divisions to cross the Delaware under the cover of darkness. Lt. Col. John Cadwalader's division was to cross at Bristol and engage the southern most contingent of British forces — Hessian troops under the command of Colonel von Donop. General James Ewing's division was to cross at Trenton Ferry and take a position south of Assunpink Creek below Trenton and hold the bridge over that stream. Washington's division was to cross at McConkey's Ferry and then divide into two corps under General Nathanael Greene and General John Sullivan. Their point of attack was Trenton and the Hessian troops quartered there under the command of Colonel Johann Gottlieb Rall. The boats to be used for the crossing were gathered earlier in the month in compliance with General Washington's orders, primarily as a defensive measure. Various types of boats had been collected, most notably the large Durham boats used to carry pig iron down the Delaware to the Philadelphia markets. There were a number of problems in moving a large number of men, cannons, and supplies in an age when overland transportation was by foot and animal power. The roads were rutted and winding. There were no bridges over major rivers because the technology did not exist to span great distances. A river like the Delaware was crossed by ferry, sometimes out of service because of ice floes or floods, and certainly not designed to carry masses of men and equipment across quickly. A river could be a formidable natural barrier to an army on the move. Washington had several logistical concerns for the crossing. In addition to the troops were the cannon; each of which required at least two horses to pull it. The heavier twelve pounders, and probably the eight pounders, had four horses. There would have been between four and six ammunitions wagons. Officers of the rank of colonel or higher may have had horses. In sum, Washington had to move 2,400 men, eighteen cannons, at least four ammunition wagons and fifty to seventy-five horses across the Delaware River the night of December 25, 1776. Fully expecting to be supported by Cadwalader's and Ewing's divisions south of Trenton, Washington assembled his own troops near McKonkey's Ferry in preparation for the crossing. By 6:00 pm, 2,400 men had begun crossing the ice-chocked river. There was an abrupt change in the weather, forcing the men to fight their way through sleet and a blinding snowstorm. The river was flooded with sheets of ice moving at eleven or twelve miles per hour. These obstacles proved to be too much for the two supporting divisions led by Generals Cadwalader and Ewing, who did not cross at their assigned points along the river. It was Washington's pure force of will and determination that led to his troops' successful crossing of the river. Increasing Washington's odds were the sailors of Marblehead, Massachusetts. This group of hardened seamen, led by Col. John Glover, were used to the Nor'easters of New England. Sheer determination and muscles conditioned to the demands of rowing under the weather conditions now facing the Continental army enabled the Marbleheaders to row back and forth across the Delaware countless times. During the time of the Revolution, American soldiers marched single file along the margins of the roads. They were only assembled into a battle line (three deep) when they reached the battlefield. The battle plan had Washington's army marching in two divisions... General Greene's and General Sullivan's. They made a night march in two columns on separate roads, a very tricky operation that was prone to failure since the columns needed to arrive at the battlefield at the same time to carry out the surprise attack planned by Washington. The American army carried out the march flawlessly. Against all odds, Washington and his men successfully completed the crossing and marched to Trenton on the morning of December 26th and, in the resulting battle, achieved a resounding victory over the Hessians. By moving ahead with his bold and daring plan, General Washington reignited the cause of freedom and gave new life to the American Revolution.

Write question 2. Early British Actions in the Colonies In 1760, near the end of the Seven Years’ War, a new British king, George III, began his reign. During his 59-year rule, he resisted revolutionary and Napoleonic France. However, George appointed advisors to manage his more distant foreign affairs in North America. These advisors knew very little about the day-to-day lives of colonists and were soon taking actions that enraged many of them. The Proclamation of 1763 The British government faced many problems after the Seven Years’ War. One was how to protect colonists and their land claims as they pushed westward into areas settled by Indigenous groups. In his Proclamation of 1763, George III said to simply draw a line down the crest of the Appalachian Mountains and order colonists not to settle past the boundary. To colonists whose fortunes were founded on Indigenous land, the king’s order suggested tyranny, or the unjust use of government power. They argued that White colonists had already claimed most of the land east of the Appalachians and that farmers had to move west to find land. Besides, colonists and land investors had already crossed the mountains into Indigenous territory. The British government ignored colonists’ arguments. To control the frontier, it sent an additional 7,500 soldiers to the colonies. The Proclamation of 1763 would later be cited as a grievance in the Declaration of Independence. The Stamp Act The British government had other problems besides stopping colonists from encroaching on Indigenous land. Another dilemma was how to pay off the large debt from the Seven Years’ War. The solution seemed obvious to Prime Minister George Grenville, the leader of the British government. People in Great Britain were already paying taxes on everything from windows to salt. In contrast, American colonists were among the most lightly taxed people in the British Empire. It was time, said Grenville, for them to pay their fair share of the cost of Britain protecting colonists and their interests. In 1765, Grenville proposed a new act, or law, called the Stamp Act, which required colonists to buy a stamp for every piece of paper they used. Newspapers, wills, licenses, and even playing cards had to be printed on stamped paper. Again, the colonists sensed tyranny. One newspaper, The Pennsylvania Journal, said that as soon as “this shocking Act was known, it filled all British America from one End to the other, with Astonishment and Grief.” It was not just the idea of higher taxes that upset the colonists. They were willing to pay taxes passed by their own assemblies, in which their representatives could vote on them. However, because the colonists had no representatives in Parliament, they saw the Stamp Act as a violation of their rights as British subjects. For this reason, they argued Parliament had no right to tax them. “No taxation without representation!” they declared. Loyalists simply refused to buy stamps, while other colonists protested the Stamp Act by sending messages to Parliament. Patriots took more aggressive action. Protesters calling themselves the Sons of Liberty organized in 1765 and began attacking tax collectors’ homes. In Connecticut, they even started to bury one tax collector alive. Only when he heard dirt being shoveled onto his coffin did the terrified tax collector agree to resign from his post. After months of protest, Parliament repealed, or canceled, the Stamp Act. Colonists greeted the news with great celebration. Church bells rang, bands played, and everyone hoped the troubles with Great Britain were over. The Quartering Act As anger over the Stamp Act began to fade, Parliament passed another controversial law in 1765. The Quartering Act ordered colonial assemblies to provide British troops with quarters, or housing. The colonists were also told to furnish the soldiers with “candles, firing, bedding, cooking utensils, salt, vinegar, and . . . beer or cider.” Providing these things for British soldiers cost money. New Jersey protested that the new law was “as much an Act for laying taxes” on the colonists as the Stamp Act. New Yorkers asked why they should pay to keep troops in their colony during peacetime. In 1767, the New York assembly decided not to approve any funds for supplies for the British troops, forcing them to remain on their ships. In retaliation, the British government suspended New York’s assembly until it agreed to obey the Quartering Act. Once again, tempers began to rise on both sides of the Atlantic.

When this lady died I descended like real estate in fee simple to her son Benjamin Stiles, Esq[uire]. About four years after her death, her two sons, Benjamin and David, were drafted to fight in the revolution. I also entered the banners of freedom. Alas! Poor African Slave, to liberate freemen, my tyrants. I had contemplated going to Barbados to avenge myself and my country… I went into Capt. [Samuel] Granger’s company, from hence I was drafted into Capt. [Samuel] Barker’s company of light infantry… ...I suddenly discovered a man riding up to me not more than eight rods distant on full speed with a pistol in his hand and ordered me to lay down my arms [weapons]... He said I must surrender to him who demanded me in the name of the King his majesty of Great Britain. I then plainly told him that neither him or his King’s majesty would get my arms unless he took them by force. He immediately cocked his pistol and fired. I fell flat upon the ground in order to dodge his ball… ...Finally, I was in the battles at Cambridge, White Plains, Monmouth, Princeton, Newark, Frog’s Point, Horseneck where I had a ball pass through my knapsack. All which battles the reader can obtain a more perfect account of in history than I can give. At last we returned to West Point and were discharged [1783], as the war was over. Thus was I, a slave for five years fighting for liberty. ...After we were disbanded, I returned to my old master at Woodbury [Connecticut], with whom I lived one year, my services in the American war having emancipated me from further slavery and from being bartered or sold. My master consented that I might go where I pleased and seek my fortune. Hearing flattering accounts of the new state of Vermont, I left Woodbury and travelled as far as the town of Lenox in Massachusetts, where for the first time I made a bargain as a freeman for labor. I let [hired] myself to a Mr. Elisha Orsborn for one month at the price of five dollars. When I had fulfilled this contract, I travelled to the town of Poltney in Vermont. There again I let myself to a Mr. Abiel Parker for the sum of thirteen pounds ten shillings, for six months. Here I enjoyed the pleasures of a freeman; my food was sweet, my labor pleasure: and one bright gleam of life seemed to shine upon me.

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

Hi, I'm John Green, this is Crash Course U.S. History, and today, we're going to talk about slavery, which is not funny. 0:06 Yeah, so we put a lei on the eagle to try and cheer you up, but let's face it, this is going to be depressing. 0:10 With slavery, every time you think, like, "Aw, it couldn't have been that bad," it turns out to have been much worse. 0:14 Mr. Green, Mr. Green! But what about – 0:15 Yeah, Me from the Past, I'm going to stop you right there, because you're going to embarrass yourself. Slavery was hugely important to America. 0:20 I mean, it led to a civil war and it also lasted what, at least in U.S. history, counts as a long-ass time, from 1619 to 1865. 0:29 And yes, I know there's a 1200-year-old church in your neighborhood in Denmark, but we're not talking about Denmark! 0:35 But slavery is most important because we still struggle with its legacy. 0:38 So, yes, today's episode will probably not be funny, but it will be important. 0:42 [Theme Music] North & South economic ties 0:51 So the slave-based economy in the South is sometimes characterized as having been separate from the Market Revolution, but that's not really the case. 0:57 Without southern cotton, the North wouldn't have been able to industrialize, at least not as quickly, because cotton textiles were one of the first industrially products. 1:04 And the most important commodity in world trade by the nineteenth century, and 3/4 of the world's cotton came from the American South. 1:11 And speaking of cotton, why has no one mentioned to me that my collar has been half popped this entire episode, like I'm trying to recreate the Flying Nun's hat. 1:18 And although there were increasingly fewer slaves in the North as northern states outlawed slavery, cotton shipments overseas made northern merchants rich. 1:26 Northern bankers financed the purchase of land for plantations. 1:29 Northern insurance companies insured slaves who were, after all, considered property, and very valuable property. 1:35 And in addition to turning cotton into cloth for sale overseas, northern manufacturers sold cloth back to the South, where it was used to clothe the very slaves who had cultivated it. 1:45 But certainly the most prominent effects of the slave-based economy were seen in the South. Slave-based agriculture in the South 1:49 The profitability of slaved-based agriculture, especially King Cotton, meant that the South would remain largely agricultural and rural. 1:56 Slave states were home to a few cities, like St. Louis and Baltimore, but with the exception of New Orleans, 2:00 almost all southern urbanization took place in the upper South, further away from the large cotton plantations. 2:06 And slave-based agriculture was so profitable that it siphoned money away from other economic endeavors. 2:11 Like, there was very little industry in the South. 2:13 It produced only 10% of the nation's manufactured goods. 2:16 And, as most of the capital was being plowed into the purchase of slaves, there was very little room for technological innovation, like, for instance, railroads. 2:23 This lack of industry and railroads would eventually make the South suck at the Civil War, thankfully. 2:27 In short, slavery dominated the South, shaping it both economically and culturally, and slavery wasn't a minor aspect of American society. Popular attitudes concerning slavery 2:35 By 1860, there were four million slaves in the U.S., and in the South, they made up one third of the total population. 2:42 Although in the popular imagination, most plantations were these sprawling affairs with hundreds of slaves, 2:47 in reality, the majority of slaveholders owned five or fewer slaves. 2:51 And, of course, most white people in the South owned no slaves at all, though, if they could afford to, they would sometimes rent slaves to help with their work. 2:57 These were the so-called yeoman farmers who lived self-sufficiently, raised their own food, and purchased very little in the Market Economy. 3:04 They worked the poorest land and, as a result, were mostly pretty poor themselves. 3:08 But even they largely supported slavery, partly, perhaps, for aspirational reasons, and partly because the racism inherent to the system gave even the poorest whites legal and social status. 3:18 And southern intellectuals worked hard to encourage these ideas of white solidarity and to make the case for slavery. 3:23 Many of the founders, a bunch of whom you'll remember, held slaves, saw slavery as a necessary evil. 3:29 Jefferson once wrote, quote, "As it is, we have the wolf by the ear, and we can neither hold him, nor safely let him go. 3:37 Justice is on one scale, and self-preservation in the other." 3:41 The belief that justice and self-preservation couldn't sit on the same side of the scale was really opposed to the American idea, 3:47 and, in the end, it would make the Civil War inevitable. 3:50 But as slavery became more entrenched in these ideas of liberty and political equality were embraced by more people, 3:55 some southerners began to make the case that slavery wasn't just a necessary evil. 3:59 They argued, for instance, that slaves benefited from slavery. 4:03 Because, you know, because their masters fed them and clothed them and took care of them in their old age. 4:07 You still hear this argument today, astonishingly. 4:09 In fact, you'll probably see asshats in the comments saying that in the comments. 4:12 I will remind you, it's not cursing if you are referring to an actual ass. 4:15 This paternalism allowed masters to see themselves as benevolent and to contrast their family-oriented slavery with the cold, mercenary Capitalism of the free-labor North. 4:26 So yeah, in the face of rising criticism of slavery, some southerners began to argue that the institution was actually good for the social order. 4:33 One of the best-known proponents of this view was John C. Calhoun, who, in 1837, said this in a speech on the Senate floor: 4:40 "I hold that, in the present state of civilization, 4:43 where two races of different origin and distinguished by color and other physical differences as well as intellectual, are brought together, 4:51 the relation now existing in the slave-holding states between the two is, instead of an evil, a good. A positive good." 4:59 Now, of course, John C. Calhoun was a fringe politician, and nobody took his views particularly seriously. 5:04 Stan: Well, he was Secretary of State from 1844 to 1845. 5:07 John: Well, I mean, who really cares about the Secretary of State, Stan? 5:10 Danica: Eh, he was also Secretary of War from 1817 to 1825. 5:13 John: All right, but we don't even have a Secretary of War anymore, so... 5:16 Meredith: And he was Vice President from 1825 to 1832. 5:19 John: Oh my god, were we insane?! 5:21 We were, of course, but we justified the insanity with Biblical passages and with the examples of the Greeks and Romans, 5:28 and with outright racism, arguing that black people were inherently inferior to whites. 5:33 And that not to keep them in slavery would upset the natural order of things. 5:37 A worldview popularized millennia ago by my nemesis, Aristotle. God, I hate Aristotle. 5:42 You know what defenders of Aristotle always say? 5:44 "He was the first person to identify dolphins." 5:47 Well, ok, dolphin identifier. 5:50 Yes, that is what he should be remembered for, but he's a terrible philosopher! Lives & experiences of enslaved people 5:53 Here's the truth about slavery: 5:55 It was coerced labor that relied upon intimidation and brutality and dehumanization. 6:00 And this wasn't just a cultural system, it was a legal one. 6:03 I mean, Louisiana law proclaimed that a slave "owes his master... a respect without bounds, and an absolute obedience." 6:09 The signal feature of slaves' lives was work. 6:12 I mean, conditions and tasks varied, but all slaves labored, usually from sunup to sundown, and almost always without any pay. 6:20 Most slaves worked in agriculture on plantations, and conditions were different, depending on which crops are grown. 6:25 Like, slaves on the rice plantations of South Carolina had terrible working conditions, 6:29 but they labored under the task system, which meant that once they had completed their allotted daily work, they would have time to do other things. 6:36 But lest you imagine this is like how we have work and leisure time, bear in mind that they were owned and treated as property. 6:42 On cotton plantations, most slaves worked in gangs, usually under the control of an overseer, or another slave who was called a "driver." 6:49 This was back-breaking work done in the southern sun and humidity, and so it's not surprising that whippings – or the threat of them – were often necessary to get slaves to work. 6:58 It's easy enough to talk about the brutality of slave discipline, but it can be difficult to internalize it. 7:03 Like, you look at these pictures, but because you've seen them over and over again, they don't have the power they once might have. 7:09 The pictures can tell a story about cruelty, but they don't necessarily communicate how arbitrary it all was. 7:14 As, for example, in this story, told by a woman who was a slave as a young girl: 7:18 "[The] overseer... went to my father one morning and said, "Bob, I'm gonna whip you this morning." 7:22 Daddy said, "I ain't done nothing," and he said, "I know it, I'm going to whip you to keep you from doing nothing," 7:28 and he hit him with that cowhide – you know it would cut the blood out of you with every lick if they hit you hard." 7:33 That brutality – the whippings, the brandings, the rape – was real, and it was intentional, because, in order for slavery to function, slaves had to be dehumanized. 7:43 This enabled slaveholders to rationalize what they were doing, and it was hoped to reduce slaves to the animal property that is implied by the term "chattel slavery." 7:51 So the idea was that slaveholders wouldn't think of their slaves as human, and slaves wouldn't think of themselves as human. 7:57 But it didn't work. Let's go to the Thought Bubble. 7:59 Slaves' resistance to their dehumanization took many forms, but the primary way was by forming families. Family, love, & religion of enslaved people 8:05 Family was a refuge for slaves and a source of dignity that masters recognized and sought to stifle. 8:10 A paternalistic slave owner named Bennet H. Barrow wrote in his rules for the Highland Plantation: 8:15 "No rule that I have stated is of more importance than that relating to Negroes marrying outside of the plantation... It creates a feeling of independence." 8:23 Most slaves did marry, usually for life, and, when possible, slaves grew up in two-parent households. 8:28 Single-parent households were common, though, as a result of one parent being sold. 8:32 In the upper South, where the economy was shifting from tobacco to different, less labor-intensive cash crops, the sale of slaves was common. 8:40 Perhaps one-third of slave marriages in states like Virginia were broken up by sale. 8:45 Religion was also an important part of life in slavery. 8:47 While masters wanted their slaves to learn the parts of the Bible that talked about being happy in bondage, 8:52 slave worship tended to focus on the stories of Exodus, where Moses brought the slaves out of bondage, 8:57 or Biblical heroes, who overcame great odds, like Daniel and David. 9:01 And, although most slaves were forbidden to learn to read and write, many did anyway. And some became preachers. 9:07 Slave preachers were often very charismatic leaders, and they roused the suspicion of slave owners, and not without reason. 9:13 Two of the most important slave uprisings in the South were led by preachers. 9:16 Thanks, Thought Bubble. 9:17 Oh, it's time for the Mystery Document? Mystery Document 9:19 We're doing two set pieces in a row? All right. [buzzing noise] [music] 9:24 The rules here are simple. 9:26 I wanted to re-shoot that, but Stan said no. 9:29 I guess the author of the Mystery Document. 9:30 If I am wrong, I get shocked with the shock pen. 9:33 "Since I have been in the Queen's dominions I have been well contented, yes well contented for sure, man is as God intended he should be. 9:40 That is, all are born free and equal. 9:43 This is a wholesome law, not like the southern laws which puts man made in the image of God on level with brutes. 9:49 O, what will become of the people, and where will they stand in the day of judgment. 9:53 Would that the 5th verse of the 3rd chapter of Malachi were written as with a bar of iron, 9:59 and the point of a diamond upon every oppressor's heart that they might repent of this evil, and let the oppressed go free..." 10:06 All right, it's definitely a preacher, because only preachers have read Malachi. 10:10 Probably African American, probably not someone from the South. 10:13 I'm going to guess that it is Richard Allen, the founder of the African Methodist Episcopal Church? 10:18 [buzzing noise] DAAAH, DANG IT! 10:19 It's Joseph Taper, and Stan just pointed out to me that I should have known it was Joseph Taper because it starts out, 10:24 "Since I have been in the Queen's dominions..." 10:27 He was in Canada. He escaped slavery to Canada. The Queen's dominions! 10:31 All right, Canadians, I blame you for this, although, thank you for abolishing slavery decades before we did. 10:36 [electric sounds] AHHH! How people resisted & escaped slavery 10:37 So, the Mystery Document shows one of the primary ways that slaves resisted their oppression: by running away. 10:42 Although some slaves like Joseph Taper escaped for good by running away to northern free states, 10:47 or even to Canada, where they wouldn't have to worry about fugitive slave laws, even more slaves ran away temporarily, hiding out in the woods or the swamps, and eventually returning. 10:55 No one knows exactly how many slaves escaped to freedom, but the best estimate is that a thousand or so a year made the journey northward. 11:01 Most fugitive slaves were young men, but the most famous runaway has been hanging out behind me all day long: Harriet Tubman. 11:07 Harriet Tubman escaped to Philadelphia at the age of 29, and over the course of her life, she made about 20 trips back to Maryland to help friends and relatives make the journey north on the Underground Railroad. 11:17 But a more dramatic form of resistance to slavery was actual, armed rebellion, which was attempted. 11:22 Now, individuals sometimes took matters into their own hands and beat or even killed their white overseers or masters. 11:27 Like Bob, the guy who received the arbitrary beating, responded to it by killing his overseer with a hoe. 11:33 But that said, large-scale slave uprisings were relatively rare. 11:36 The four most famous ones all took place in a 35-year period at the beginning of the 19th century. Slave rebellions 11:41 Gabriel's Rebellion in 1800 – which we've talked about before – was discovered before he was able to carry out his plot. 11:45 Then, in 1811, a group of slaves upriver from New Orleans seized cane, knives, and guns, and marched on the city before militia stopped them. 11:52 And in 1822, Denmark Vesey, a former slave who had purchased his freedom, may have organized a plot to destroy Charleston, South Carolina. 11:59 I say "may have" because the evidence against him is disputed and comes from a trial that was not fair. 12:05 But regardless, the end result of that trial was that he was executed, as were 34 slaves. Nat Turner's Rebellion 12:09 But the most successful slave rebellion, at least in the sense that they actually killed some people, was Nat Turner's in August 1831. 12:15 Turner was a preacher, and with a group of about 80 slaves, he marched from farm to farm in South Hampton County, Virginia, 12:21 killing the inhabitants, most of whom were women and children, because the men were attending a religious revival meeting in North Carolina. 12:27 Turner and 17 other rebels were captured and executed, but not before they struck terror into the hearts of whites all across the American South. 12:34 Virginia's response was to make slavery worse, passing even harsher laws that forbade slaves from preaching, and prohibited teaching them to read. 12:42 Other slave states followed Virginia's lead and, by the 1830s, slavery had grown, if anything, more harsh. 12:47 So, this shows that large-scaled armed resistance was – Django Unchained aside – not just suicidal, but also a threat to loved ones and, really, to all slaves. How enslaved people resisted their oppression & why it matters 12:55 But, it is hugely important to emphasize that slaves did resist their oppression. 12:59 Sometimes this meant taking up arms, but usually it meant more subtle forms of resistance, 13:03 like intentional work slowdowns or sabotaging equipment, or pretending not to understand instructions. 13:08 And, most importantly, in the face of systematic legal and cultural degradation, they re-affirmed their humanity through family and through faith. 13:16 Why is this so important? 13:17 Because too often in America, we still talk about slaves as if they failed to rise up, 13:21 when, in fact, rising up would not have made life better for them or for their families. 13:26 The truth is, sometimes carving out an identity as a human being in a social order that is constantly seeking to dehumanize you, is the most powerful form of resistance. 13:34 Refusing to become the chattel that their masters believed them to be is what made slavery untenable and the Civil War inevitable, so make no mistake, slaves fought back. 13:45 And in the end, they won. I'll see you next week. Credits 13:48 Crash Course is produced and directed by Stan Muller. 13:50 The script supervisor is Meredith Danko. 13:52 Our associate producer is Danica Johnson. 13:54 The show is written by my high school history teacher Raoul Meyer and myself. 13:57 And our graphics team is Thought Cafe. 13:58 Every week, there's a new caption to the Libertage, but today's episode was so sad that we couldn't fit a Libertage in... 14:04 UNTIL NOW! [Libertage Rock Music] 14:08 Suggest Libertage caption in comments, where you can also ask questions about today's video that will be answered by our team of historians. 14:13 Thanks for watching Crash Course, and as we say in my home town, don't forget to be abolitionist.

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