The Perils of Pardoning: Ulysses S. Grant and the Legacy of the Ku Klux Klan Pardons
Toward the end of his first term President Ulysses S. Grant faced a dilemma. He had campaigned on the slogan “Let Us Have Peace,” yet extralegal violence by the Ku Klux Klan was threatening peace in the South. On April 20, 1871, Congress passed the Ku-Klux Act to combat that threat. It gave the president authority to suspend habeas corpus and use military power to fight conspiracies designed to deprive US citizens of rights under the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments. In the fall of 1871, for the only time in his presidency, Grant used his full powers to crackdown on the Klan in the hill counties of South Carolina. In his best-selling biography Ron Chernow calls that campaign the “imperishable story of Grant’s presidency.”[1]
Indeed, Grant broke the back of the Klan. As commendable as his actions were, however, his success was not as sweeping as it may seem to a public that imagines the Klan, with its disguises and secret rituals, encompassing all white terrorists at the time. As Allen Trelease noted years ago, after Grant’s crackdown, “Southern violence now assumed other forms, almost as lethal, probably more effective, and certainly more lasting than the Ku Klux Klan.”[2] Despite that ongoing terror, after his re-election in early 1873, Grant started pardoning Ku-Klux. Pardons continued after the horrible racial massacre in Colfax, Louisiana, on Easter 1873. Eventually, all sent to federal prison received pardons, including one responsible for the murder of African American Thomas Roundtree. In late March 1871, eighty Ku-Klux raided Roundtree’s home looking for weapons and warning him not to vote. When Roundtree shot to defend himself, the mob filled his body with thirty-five rounds and slit his throat from ear to ear. As if that pardon was not enough, in Grant’s last days in office, he asked his attorney general if any more “political prisoners” deserved clemency.[3]
“Ku Klux Klan” from Invisible Empire by Albion W. Tourgee (New York: Fords, Howard, & Hulbert, 1880)
Grant’s pardons are an often-unrecognized precedent for president-elect Donald Trump’s promise to consider clemency for convicted January, 6, 2021, insurrectionists. If granted, Trump’s pardons would, as Grant’s did, provide comfort for white supremacist terrorists. Likewise, although Grant pardoned all convicted Ku-Klux, he claimed that he considered each case individually, as Trump says he will do. History, however, does not always rhyme. Grant was no Trump. Trump deployed his promise as a campaign tactic. Grant’s 1872 opponent former abolitionist Horace Greeley also advocated pardons in his campaign, but to combat charges that he was trying to corral votes, Grant deferred consideration of them until after the election. Most importantly, as outrageous as Trump’s promise is, it makes partisan sense. The insurrectionists supported him. Grant pardoned insurrectionists who opposed him. Trump’s pardons would exacerbate partisan divisions; Grant tried to heal them.
Grant’s efforts to heal pose challenges to Reconstruction scholars. There is a long history of victors extending clemency to bridge divisions after civil wars. Few Unionists disagreed with Andrew Johnson’s first proclamation of amnesty for thousands of Confederates in exchange for oaths of loyalty, especially because he refused to extend it to many covered by Abraham Lincoln. Efforts to reconstruct the nation would have been impossible without some such act of reconciliation. National harmony did not, however, depend on pardoning white supremacist terrorists who refused to accept the terms of peace and violated their oaths. Nonetheless, the few scholars who acknowledge the pardons in the wake of the resurrection of Grant’s presidential reputation are not very convincing in addressing that distinction. When Fergus M. Bordewich first mentions the pardons in Klan War: Ulysses S. Grant and the Battle to Save Reconstruction he describes a Grant “worried that leniency would be misinterpreted as a confession of federal weakness rather than strength.” After describing Colfax, Bordewich returns to the pardons, this time describing a Grant who “desperately hoped” that pardoning Ku-Klux “would gradually encourage obedience to the law and quell resistance to the government.”[4] What about Colfax made Grant abandon his worry that leniency would be misinterpreted and start hoping that it would encourage obedience?
The answer to that question requires substantial speculation. As Elaine Frantz Parsons emphasized in Ku Klux, scholarship on the Klan has to rely on unreliable or non-existent documents. Secrecy demanded deception or destruction. Pardons can pose similar problems. The Constitution requires no rationale for pardons. The one for unrepentant Randolph Abbott Shotwell cited “good and sufficient reasons.” What were those reasons? Was Grant flattered when white Southerners assured him that pardons would make him president for the entire nation, not just the North. Was Grant imagining a third term after reelection? Was he influenced by the support of reputed Klan leader Nathan Bedford Forrest in 1872?[5] We can’t tell with certainty. Nonetheless, the quest for reasons can raise possibilities that have gotten little recent attention. For instance, acts of the Klan were so horrendous that it is easy to forget that prosecution of it produced injustices. Only eighty ended up in federal prison. Some of the worst offenders escaped west or to Canada. Pardons coincided with the attorney general’s halt to prosecutions, allowing murders like Rufus Bratton to return home and resume medical practice while convicted Ku-Klux suffered imprisonment.
Even if we can’t know with certainty whether Grant factored such disparities into his thinking, we can recognize that Grant’s pardons have to be considered in the context of other acts of executive clemency at the time. Numerous scholars note that Republicans blamed the Black Codes on the thousands of 1865 pardons Johnson issued to leading Southerners. Fewer note that Grant had encouraged Johnson to grant amnesty to those with property from the start. And the issue goes beyond Grant. None of those who protested Johnson’s pardons, including Frederick Douglass, publicly protested Grant’s Ku-Klux pardons, despite numerous private warnings recorded in Grant’s papers.
President Andrew Johnson Pardoning Rebels at the White House, Harper’s Weekly Magazine, October 14, 1865
The Supreme Court also had a role. Although generally ignored in the countless legal studies of Reconstruction, the period witnessed leading cases on the pardoning power. In Ex parte Garland a divided Court proclaimed that except for cases of impeachment, the president’s pardoning power is “unlimited” and “not subject to legislative control,” only to qualify that absolute pronouncement in a subsequent decision. The Court also sided with the executive branch when Congress claimed that, because “amnesty” is not mentioned in the Constitution, the president cannot proclaim it without congressional authorization. The stakes were high. Traditionally, pardons are designed to address individual cases. Amnesty applies to groups. First declared after the Peloponnesian Wars, amnesty tries to heal divisions after civil strife. Pardons are legal acts of forgiving. Amnesty, linked to the Greek word for “amnesia,” is a legal act of forgetting. Clemency after Appomattox was as much concerned with legal forgetting as with forgiving. Yet the Supreme Court conflated these crucial distinctions, although in numerous countries only legislatures can declare amnesty.
Congress could have asserted its sole authority to proclaim amnesty when it framed the Fourteenth Amendment. Instead, in Section Three it confined itself to limiting the scope of Johnson’s pardons by incorporating into the Constitution the provision prohibiting insurrectionists who violated their constitutional oath from holding public office, granting Congress, not the president, power to remove the disability. Long forgotten, Section Three was back in the news because of the unsuccessful effort to use it to disqualify Trump from the presidency. But that brief news cycle did not suggest its possible links to Grant’s Ku-Klux pardons. Prior to the 1872 election Grant urged Congress to pass an amnesty act allowing most affected by Section Three to hold office. Grant had no need to sign the bill, but with a public ceremony he did. Perhaps in his mind Ku-Klux pardons followed logically from this act of reconciliation.
“Dam Your Soul. The Horrible Sepulchre and Bloody Moon Has at Last Arrived.” from Albion W. Tourgee (New York: Fords, Howard, & Hulbert, 1880)
Of course, as noted above, there is a clear difference between allowing former rebels to hold office and forgiving white supremacist terrorists. Grant, however, did not see the difference or care. To make matters worse, even though he claimed to be considering the merits of each case, collectively his pardons and the decision to halt further prosecutions had the effect of a proclamation of amnesty. Ironically, although amnesty is a legal act of forgetting, if Grant had granted amnesty to Ku-Klux, as the late Jimmy Carter did for Vietnam draft evaders, perhaps his mercy for acts of terrorism would not be so frequently forgotten. Indeed, in this time of partisan divisions, Grant’s Ku-Klux pardons are a telling reminder of how difficult it can be for someone intent on peace to know when it no longer makes sense to heal through acts of forgetting and forgiving.
[1] Ron Chernow, Grant (New York: Penguin Books, 2018), xx.
[2]Allen W. Trelease, White Terror: The Klux Klux Conspiracy and Southern Reconstruction (Baton: Rouge: Louisiana University Press, 1971), 418.
[3] The Papers of Ulysses S. Grant, ed. John Y. Simon (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1967-2012), v28, 511.
[4] Fergus M. Bordewich, Klan Wars: Ulysses S. Grant and the Battle to Save Reconstruction (New ork: Alfred A. Knopf, 2023), 307-08, 330.
[5] William B. Hesseltine, Ulysses S. Grant: Politician (New York: Frederick Ungar Publishing Co., 1935), 283.
Brook Thomas
Brook Thomas is Chancellor's Professor Emeritus of English and the Center for Law, Society, and Culture, UC Irvine. His specialty is 19th-century law and literature in the US. He has published six single-authored books and a case book on Plessy v. Ferguson. The Literature of Reconstruction: Not in Plain Black and White (John Hopkins University Press, 2017) won the Hugh Holman Prize.