Nathaniel Morgan Memorial

It is with pain that we record in the account below another of those horrid crimes that have disgraced this country and the name of civilized man, within the past few years. It details the circumstances of the whipping to death of a negro—and they are so fiendlike, that were it not that our informant is a respectable citizen, whom we could not suspect of a disposition to misrepresent, we should be inclined to suspect some mistake in his narration.

Dubuque, Sept. 6, 1840

Messrs. Editors: --I have just witnessed one of the most disgraceful, and barbarous, and inhuman murders, ever perpetrated in the Lead Mines. There was a negro man living here by the name of Nat—an old resident—whose principal occupation was that of waiting upon the gentlemen of the town, and whose wife followed the business of washing. They were both considered very useful, though Nat, it was said, would occasionally take, without leave, sundry little articles, such as tobacco, cigars, stockings, etc. which was no doubt the result of a very intimate acquaintance with those who employed him. A day or two since, it was heralded through the town, that a quantity of clothing had been stolen from a fellow, whose reputation is not very enviable. Poor Nat was immediately suspected of the theft, and the collection of a mob was speedily effected, consisting of all the ‘loafers’ and ‘grog-bruisers’ of the town.

The victim was dragged from his house and conveyed down to the beach in front of the town, amid the shouts of a drunken multitude, and tied to a post—his back bared, and full THREE HUNDRED LASHES were dealt out to him, “well laid on” in good mob style. During the infliction of this most awful and brutal punishment, the poor creature was made to confess in such a manner as to contradict himself, which gave a new impulse to the scene, and their merciless cruelties were continued until his back was literally flayed—cut to pieces. He was then loosed, after having been made to promise to show where the stolen things were. But, when they took him to the place which he designated, no trace of the stolen articles were to be seen. Thirty-nine additional lashes were laid upon his fleshless back, with a “will and design” which baffles all description.

He was then dragged up the stairs of his house, which he designated (under the most excruciating torture,) as the place of deposit of the stolen property; but as before, no traces of the stolen property could be found. In consequence of this another “dose” was laid upon his raw and quivering back—horrid, horrid—to which he appeared insensible. He then, in a feeble voice, named a place on the bluff as the deposit of the things, but begged that they would let him lay down and rest before proceeding with them, as he felt sick and very feeble. This was denied him; and with oaths and curses, such as were calculated “to kindle the wrath of the Deity, “he was partly led and partly dragged to the bluff. What they did to him there, I do not know, as I did not follow them. The stolen property was not found, and the miserable and ill-fated creature was brought to his house a cold inanimate corpse, with his back broken, and his ribs and sides all stove in! The humanity of the mob, after death had relieved their victim, may be inferred from the fact, that they brought him upon two poles to his house!

Who would have supposed that a people professing a high regard for law and morality, would have looked upon this unhuman, murderous, and diabolical transaction as idle spectators—upon this, one of the most foul and monstrous perpetrations that can blacken the character of the human species—a murder that will clothe with infamy its base and black hearted authors—who can only live now to “stink” in the nostrils of every honest and moral man in the Territory.

You will bear in mind that the good people of Dubuque took no part in this most infamous and disgraceful affair. The tragedy was performed by the drunken rabble, and them alone.

I am an old resident of Dubuque, and speak freely and FEARLESSLY, knowing, as I do that this most horrid and shameless murder is but too well calculated to give a character anything, but enviable to our flourishing young city. There is law in this Territory, and the poor Negro (though he may have been guilty of the charge proffered against him) was as much entitled to the benefit and advantages of a fair trial, by the laws of the land, as any white man.

A Moral Citizen of Dubuque.