The Scandalous Black Dance of 1795, Part 2

White Charlestonians of 1795 were shocked to find a local magistrate at the center of an illegal black dance raided by city police. Revelers fleeing the nocturnal “frolick” left William Cunnington to face the law alone, and he defended his honor by publishing a narrative of the infamous soirée in the public press. His words silenced the critics of his day, but some historians have misrepresented this intriguing story by ignoring Cunnington’s account. His colorful text, forgotten for more than two centuries, provides a valuable and entertaining glimpse of life in late-eighteenth-century Charleston.

Last week’s program included a brief overview of the events that transpired at the southeast corner of East Bay and Gillon Streets on the evening of Tuesday, November 3rd, and the morning of Wednesday, November 4th, 1795. The details included in that summary were drawn entirely from the texts of five affidavits provided by seven eye-witnesses who testified before the intendant (mayor) of Charleston a few days after the events in question. Their sworn statements paint the picture of a scandalous mixed-race bacchanal, with white magistrate William Cunnington positioned squarely at the center of the action. In recent years, several reputable scholars have interpreted these affidavits as evidence of a licentious party—or even a brothel—that was hosted and defended by a man heretofore known as a respectable member of the community.[1] As I mentioned last week, however, every controversy has two sides, and William Cunnington’s version of the story hasn’t been heard since 1795. Before we hear his defense, let’s quickly review a bit of the general context surrounding this incident.

William Cunnington lived and worked in a narrow brick building located on the east side of East Bay Street, just behind or east of the old Exchange building. Immediately south of his office was the vendue or auction establishment of James Macomb. Cunnington’s northern neighbor, facing the south side of Gillon Street, was an English merchant named Julius Smith. Following Mr. Smith’s death in late September of 1795, his widow decided to sell the house and reside in the country with her father.[2]

Remember also that the Charleston police force (then called the City Guard) enforced a nightly dusk-to-dawn curfew that applied to all of the enslaved people and free people of color living within the city limits. The curfew went into effect at 9 p.m. every night between mid-September and mid-March, and at 10 p.m. from mid-March to mid-September. There was also a city ordinance specifically prohibiting enslaved people and free people of color from engaging in dances, parties, or any sort of “merriment” after the curfew. The dance party held at the private residence of Julius Smith in early November 1795 was, therefore, perfectly legal until the stroke of 9 p.m. At that moment, it became an illegal and potentially dangerous nuisance in the eyes of the law. The City Guard raided the house sometime after ten or eleven o’clock that evening, at which time William Cunnington protested the intrusion of armed guards into this private residence.

Rumors about Cunnington’s involvement in the black dance spread throughout the neighborhood in the days after the nocturnal police raid. On Saturday, November 7th, Charleston Intendant John Edwards listened to seven white men describe the scenes they witnessed at the house of the late Julius Smith. On Tuesday, November 10th, William Cunnington composed a longish narrative of the events in question and sent it to the office of the Charleston City Gazette for publication. The editors of that newspaper, Peter Freneau and Seth Paine, printed Cunnington’s essay on the second page of their November 12th edition. Because his text provides a bounty of new insight into the infamous black dance of 1795, I think it’s important to hear and see the entire document. Note that in the transcription below, I’ve added a few words here and there to clarify the meaning of some of the antique language.

Charleston, November 10th, 1795.

Messieurs Freneau & Paine,

Finding that an affair which happened on the night of [Tuesday] the 3d instant, and on the morning following, hath, either through error or prejudice, being circulated greatly to my disadvantage, but conscious of my own innocence respecting the report originally misconceived, I am induced to lay before the public a true state of the facts, so far as my knowledge of the business extends; not doubting, when prejudice subsides and truth and candor step forth, all unfavorable impressions misconceived against me will naturally vanish. In the attempt, I shall descend to the particulars necessary, although it may intrude a little on the patience of the reader.

On Monday afternoon (the 2d instant) about 4 o’clock, Mrs. [Julius] Smith (next door) sent me word that she wanted to speak to me[. I left my place of business and walked next door to Mrs. Smith’s house], when she informed me she had gone to live at her father’s, and came to give me the keys of the house to give them up to Mr. [John Spaltt] Cripps, the day after the house was sold, and by that time her negro woman, Lucy, would have all the rest of the things removed; but [Mrs. Smith] said, she had let Rose have the house to-night, or to-morrow night (I do not remember which) for her and her friends, desiring me to be so good as to see that nothing happened, and write her a ticket [a brief handwritten note, then required by law, acknowledging that an enslaved person was permitted to do something or go somewhere out of the ordinary]. I replied, What Rose? She said Mrs. [Robert] Cochran’s Rose, here she is, this is Rose, and should any body trouble them, I have told them [Lucy, Rose, and their friends] to call to you for protection; you will be so good as to give her a ticket. I replied, [a ticket] for your permission of the house I will [give], but for nothing else; I suppose they have leave of the [Cochran] family. She replied, yes, they had; that she only wanted me to give her a ticket for her permission of the [use of the] house. I returned hastily to the office, where I had left people waiting on business. Rose followed me for the ticket, and said Mrs. Smith was waiting for her; I gave it to her, and never thought any more about it, until past nine o’clock on Tuesday evening, [when] I heard music, which brought to my recollection Mrs. Smith’s leave given to Rose.

While I was shutting up the windows [of my house], a young gentleman of the neighborhood came up to me, and said he understood there was to be a negro dance at Mrs. Smith’s. I replied, that I had heard of none, he knew best; that Mrs. Smith had given leave of her house to Rose, and the rest of your negroes; that I supposed it was agreeable to the [Smith or Cochran] family. He said, Oh, yes, it was, and asked me to go with him, that he wanted to see them dance. I replied, that I had no desire to see them dance, but as soon as I had finished shutting up [the windows], I would go and see what they were doing, and [ensure] that nothing happened, since Mr. Smith had given them leave [to use the house that evening].

Mr. [William] Fiddy, who just stept [sic] into the office, the [afore]said young gentleman and myself walked round into the [Smith] house, and found some negroes dancing. Soon after, Mr. William McComb [perhaps meaning James Macomb], and the rest of the clerks who sleep at the Vendue-store [next door], hearing the music, came in also. I ordered the door to be fastened, to keep out any drunken sailors who might be passing by, observing that it was much easier to keep out disorderly people, than to turn them out. It was now past ten o’clock, when I stept [sic] into the room to tell them [that is, Lucy, Rose, and their friends, the dancers, and musicians,] that they must leave off and depart; they quit dancing immediately; and, as I expected, were about to depart. No white person set a foot in the [dance] room except myself, to tell them to leave off.

On a sudden, I heard a violent beating against the door, which was fastened with a chain a-cross it, and before I could get to it, it was broke open, and a person [came] inside, whom I did not recognize [at first] to be Capt. [Harmon] Davis [of the City Guard]. I asked him by what authority he broke open the door? He said, that he was informed this was [supposed to be] an empty house, and there were [sic] nothing but a parcel of negroes dancing. I replied, that it was a mistake, and that he was misinformed; that it was Mrs. Smith’s house, and was in my charge; that Mrs. Smith had not [yet] quitted possession; that she was not there herself, but her negroes and part of her furniture was still there, and that she had given permission to the servants of Mrs. Cochran and their friends to have a dance in her house.

During this conversation I heard somebody in the street brawl out in great wrath. This is not your house, sir; you have no business here, sir; you live in the other house, sir; [what he says,] it’s false. I now began to recognize Capt. Davis, apologized for not knowing him at first, and went out in the street with him, and was not long at a loss to know [that is, to recognize] Mr. James McBride, who continued his insolent abuse, which I had once before experienced for asking him a very civil manner to reimburse me about 4 l. [pounds], which he had assumed repeatedly, once before Mrs. McBride, but he thought proper to deny it.

I told him to give me none of his impertinence; that I would not put up with it; [I] bid him hold his tongue, and I would talk with him in the morning. He still went on in the same strain, I told him to give me no more of his impertinence; that [then] I was obliged to repeat what I had once before told him, that he had lately acquired a little property and had got so purse proud that he did not know how to behave himself; that he need not always be bragging about his property, I did not begrudge it to him; repeating, that I would speak to him in the morning.

During this time I was walking off with Captain Davis, telling him that I did not apprehend he [and the City Guard] had any thing to do with it, repeating, as Mrs. Smith had given leave to Mrs. Cochran’s negroes and their friends which were there, by permission of their owners, and some of them [, the slaveowners, were] present; Mr. Fiddy, who had extensive property adjoining, Mr. Macomb’s clerks, who had also the care of property to a very considerable amount, and that it was not a place of resort for negroes; that I should immediately disperse them, and see every thing safe.

Captain Davis asked if there were any negroes dancing; I told him there were, and some [free persons] of color likewise. He said he thought he ought to take them to the guard-house. I replied, do as you please, you know your own duty best. He asked if they had all got tickets [permitting them to pass through the city streets at night]? How would they get home? I told him I supposed they had, that I should turn them out, and they must take their chance; if they had not [tickets] the guard must take them. He went away, and ordered the guard to watch the house [with everyone still inside], or they [the partiers] should have immediately been dispersed.

He returned almost immediately; I went again to the door; he said that he must take them all away to the guard house. I replied, very well, do so; let the guard come in and take them away. I forbid any of them [the Negro revelers] to stir a foot at their peril; if they offered to get away, they might expect a bayonet through them; that they should all share the same fate. I went with Captain Davis all over the house and premises, and finding one of the garret doors [locked] fast, I ordered whoever was inside to open the door and come out or we would break it open, and it would be worse for them. Captain Davis broke open the door with his foot; the guard tied the [black] fellows [but not the women], took the whole party into the street, and I lent Captain Davis a candle to see that none escaped by the way. Then it was with astonishment, I saw a supper paraded [this is a reference to an assortment of elaborate cakes and other “delicacies” mentioned by other witnesses, who apparently carried away some of the food in a sort of parade]. After seeing all safe I bid Mrs. Smith’s negro woman [Lucy] to go to bed, and let every thing stand till morning, and [at that time] I would see about it; [I told her to] let no body come in.

About half past 6 o’clock Mr. Macomb’s negro man [from next door] knocked me up, and said Mr. Moses, from over the way (Henry Moses) had got into Mrs. Smith’s house, (where I thought he had no business); [he had] called a great many people together, was abusing [cursing] me, and throwing all the things [from Mrs. Smith’s house] about in the street, and making a great disturbance.—Hearing a good deal of noise, I got up and went to Mrs. Smith’s; as soon as I had turned the corner, I saw Mr. Moses, with several people about him, and hearing him accuse me, damning [me as] the magistrate that encouraged the negroes. I very naturally concluded that he was the sole instigation of the clamor and uproar.

Conscious that I was as far from promoting or encouraging any thing of the kind, as he or any one else could be, and that I did not merit such treatment, I walked hastily and angrily into the house, asking, what was the matter, and who had any business in there? Meeting three or four men inside, I bid them go out, asking them what business they had there? As they were going out of the door, Mr. Moses forced himself in upon me with great abuse. I pushed him out, and told him he was a damned scoundrel. He increased his abuse to a great degree, and so did some other of my kind neighbors, to whom I made no reply, [but] came out of the house and went into my office; when, no doubt, they took the advantage to inflame the minds of the people against me, who must have supposed I was espousing the cause of the negroes, instead of resenting the gross insults offered to myself: for I can defy the world to say, that ever I was seen or heard of being at a negro or mullatto [sic] dance or entertainment of any kind; and so far as I have been present at this [dance], my sole motive was to oblige Mr. Smith, whose innocence did not permit her to suppose that any ill consequence would have arisen from it.

My reason for postponing this publication until now [a week after the events in question], was owing to the frequent hints I have had of being called before the city council, and if I have inadvertently been guilty of any offence, it must have been against a city ordinance only; which had entirely escaped my memory, being no city officer; until it was mentioned to me by one of the [city] wardens next day; who told me that where I had committed myself was by suffering the negroes to dance after hours [that is, after the 9 p.m. tattoo]. I therefore presumed that was the only tribunal I could be amenable to. As one individual, or as a justice of the peace, I had no authority to disperse them, considering they were there by permission of the owner of the house, and it is a very dangerous thing in an officer, civil or military, to stretch his authority beyond its prescribed limits.

But admitting, for a moment, that it had been in my own house, what is the penalty incurred? Forty shillings for permitting negroes to dance after 10 o’clock in the summer, and 9 o’clock in the winter, and not exceeding ten pounds for refusing to disperse them, or [to] deny the guard admittance, neither of which can be pretended. Admittance for what? For the purpose of dispersing the same; but no authority to break open houses; when such a latitude is once countenanced, however specious the pretext, there is an end of all civil liberty, and no man, however innocent or unoffending he may be, can be safe in his own house, which the law wisely provides [is] his castle.

Another fundamental principle in law and good government is, that no man shall be condemned unheard, nor without being made acquainted with the proceedings against him and giving him an opportunity to make his defence.—I am well informed, from several of the parties themselves, voluntarily, that, except for Mr. McBride and Mr. Moses, none of them would have appeared [and made affidavits] against me, had they not been compelled and threatened to be called to Columbia.

I now leave my calumniators [false accusers] to their own reflections, firmly believing that the reproach of their consciences will be to them a sufficient punishment, and trusting that, in the minds of men of candor and feeling, I shall be thought to have suffered sufficient provocation for any improprieties I may have committed.

William Cunnington.[3]

P.S. I have with difficulty procured a copy of affidavits sworn against me, which follow.

Here, at the end of his long narrative, Mr. Cunnington included the full text of five affidavits sworn by seven white men before Charleston Intendant John Edwards on November 7th, 1795. By publishing his own version of the events in question alongside the sworn testimony of his accusers, William Cunnington was inviting the public to weigh the evidence and to form their own conclusions about what really happened. It was a bold move, motivated by Cunnington’s firm belief that malicious accusations had entirely distorted the truth of his role in both the black dance and the subsequent police raid at Mrs. Smith’s house. Baseless rumors and criminal accusations against him were circulating through Charleston and threatening to spread to the State House in Columbia. To quash the scandalous controversy, William Cunnington unsheathed his most powerful defense—a rational and balanced presentation of the facts.

More than two centuries after these events, we are left to wonder how the Charleston public reacted to the publication of Mr. Cunnington’s newspaper defense in November 1795. I haven’t found any further references to this topic in the local newspapers of that era, nor is there any surviving evidence of any criminal prosecutions against him. As I mentioned in the first part of this story last week, Charleston Intendant John Edwards sent the five affidavits about the black dance to Governor Arnoldus Vanderhorst in Columbia, who then shared copies with both the South Carolina Senate and House of Representatives on November 25th. The governor asked the members of the state General Assembly to consider the evidence “respecting the conduct of a Justice of the peace for Charleston District.”[4] Perusing the journals of the two legislative bodies, I found no further discussion of the black dance or the actions of William Cunnington. It seems that the entire matter was quietly swept under the proverbial rug, or simply ignored.

Based on the surviving evidence, therefore, I am inclined to believe that the people of Charleston and the members of the state General Assembly accepted William Cunnington’s version of the events that unfolded on the evening November 3rd and the morning of November 4th. In the months and years after this episode, Cunnington’s life appears to have continued without much change. He was a merchant, and his business rolled along like normal in the late 1790s. He continued to serve as a Justice of the Peace for Charleston District (County), and was even promoted to Justice of the Quorum (a sort of super Justice of the Peace). He was a militia captain who soon became a lieutenant-colonel of the city’s light cavalry.[5] Long after Mr. Cunnington’s death in 1804, his plantation on Charleston Neck, known as Magnolia Umbra, became in 1850 a park-like grove of eternal rest called Magnolia Cemetery. To the present day, visitors have accessed that and several adjacent burial grounds by traversing Cunnington Avenue.

In short, William Cunnington’s reputation appears to have survived the scandal of 1795 with little damage. He was, in many ways, simply a product of his time, neither a saint nor a sinner. His office and the neighboring Smith family residence both continued to serve as commercial offices well after the Civil War, but later fell into ruin. The Smith house became a blacksmith’s shop, and later a filling station in the early twentieth century. Both lots were demolished and cleared in the 1960s to make way for automobile traffic. The site of the scandalous black dance of 1795 is now a vacant parking lot, devoid of character and memory.

So what have we learned about Charleston from this two-sided story? We’ve learned that enslaved people and free people of color in 1795 liked to dance and throw a good party just like everybody else, but the prejudices held by their white contemporaries frustrate the modern desire to learn more about such historical topics. Our ability to know more about their dance moves and their musical stylings in 1795, for example, is forever limited by the social framework that abridged the freedom of non-white Charlestonians in the past. The white community of that era did not value the voices and perspectives of their darker-skinned brothers and sisters, while legions of historical figures like James McBride and Captain Harmon Davis actively sought to suppress their cultural expressions.

To consumers and connoisseurs of our community’s colorful history, this scandalous-but-really-not-so-scandalous story also serves as a valuable reminder. The imaginary landscape of Charleston’s past is paved with layers of overlapping prejudices. Facts visible through the lens of historical documents often reflect distorted perspectives that can lead us to flawed conclusions. In the past and in the present, we always benefit from making an effort to see the world from more than one point of view. Tread lightly and try to see the bigger picture as we travel through time.