The Forgotten Victims and Organized Violence To Suppress the Black Vote on Election Day 1871
- Michiko Quinones
- Oct 9
- 11 min read
Tomorrow is the 154th anniversary of the assassination of Octavius Catto. In his honor we have created a visual timeline to fully understand the events of that day. But we also want to offer that we need to reframe the way we describe Election Day 1871.
The way most people remember Octavius Catto’s assassination goes something like this. On October 10, 1871, Catto was walking home, Frank Kelly spotted him on the street, recognized him, and shot him. It was, the narrative seems to indicate, a tragic accident of timing, a chance encounter between a racist thug and a promising Black leader. Wrong place, wrong time.
This excerpt from the Smithsonian‘s National Portrait Gallery demonstrates this narrative in the public sphere.
Factually, this excerpt is misleading; Kelly was charged for the multiple murders he committed during election day, but the jury let him go free. The trial notes are publicly available.
More problematic, this narrative doesn't give Catto the respect he deserves as a major political player. It also doesn't connect Kelly directly to Democratic operatives, when he definitely ran with that crew.
This kind of narrative is doing us all a disservice in that it's only describing the visible tip of a massive iceberg of story. The tip of the iceberg is remembered, and the iceberg is forgotten.
Catto’s killing was not a happenstance encounter.
It was part of a broader campaign of political and racial terror designed to suppress Black political power in Philadelphia. He was one of many Black men who were shot at and murdered that day and in the days around it.
To remember only Catto, and only as a victim of accident, is to erase the deeper truth: that Black organizing was working, that it terrified those in power, and that the response was a coordinated wave of violence by police, party machines, and white gangs.
This is the story we need to tell if we are serious about honoring Catto, his community, and the long struggle for democracy.
Black Political Power Rising
To understand the violence of 1871, we have to start with the power of Black political organizing in the years before.
Prior to 1838, free Black men in Pennsylvania had the right to vote until the state constitution was changed in that year over growing white fear of Black political power. Black men were disenfranchised (meaning not able to participate in the franchise ie the right to vote) from 1838 - 1870, until passage of the 15th Amendment. For the first time in more than thirty years, Black men in Philadelphia were able to vote. And they did not enter politics quietly.
Leaders like Octavius Catto, William Still, Jacob C. White Jr., and Isaiah C. Wears had been building organizations since the 1860s. The Social, Civil and Statistical Association (SCSA) tracked injustice and pressed for rights. The Pennsylvania Equal Rights League (PERL), headquartered at 717 Lombard Street, was part of a national movement launched by Frederick Douglass, Henry Highland Garnet, and John Mercer Langston. Together, these groups organized legal support, fought for access to public transportation, pushed back against racist laws, and prepared Black voters to exercise their new rights.
The power of Black Philadelphia was felt nationally in 1870 when Isaiah C. Wears, former SCSA president and PERL member, was invited to Washington to help write the 15th Amendment.
By 1871, this organizing had become a political force. Most Black voters aligned with the Republican Party - the party of Lincoln, emancipation, and Reconstruction. That made them direct opponents of Philadelphia’s entrenched Democratic machines.
The 4th Ward Democratic Machine Orchestrates Election Day Violence
In the 4th Ward, a thin parcel of city between South and Fitzwater, and where Catto lived and worked, the machine was run by William “Bull” McMullen, the Alderman for the 4th ward, whose political power rested on violence, patronage, and control of the police. McMullen’s ward was home to major Black institutions: First African Presbyterian Church (which had been there since 1820- nearly 60 years), the Institute for Colored Youth, Shiloh Baptist church, and the homes of leaders like Still and Frances Ellen Watkins Harper.
The 1871 mayoral election exposed the stakes. Democratic incumbent Daniel Fox faced Republican challenger William Stokley. Fox lost by about 8,000 votes. A few thousand of those votes came from newly enfranchised Black men. Their presence at the polls was enough to tip the balance.
Historian Harry Silcox describes election day violence as "orchestrated" by McMullen, and including police officers as part of McMullen’s network. Lieutenant Haggarty, Officer McNulty, and Sergeant Duffy were loyal to him. Young enforcers like Reddy Dever and Frank Kelly were ready to use guns and axes on his behalf. All of these men were responsible for violence and murder of Black people during this election.
The system of justice offered negligible protection: the mayor and courts were split, with judges insisting on accountability while the Democratic mayor openly resisted holding police to account. Systemic anti-Blackness ran through the 4th ward's political and criminal justice systems. 4th ward aligned police did not just stand by as white gangs attacked Black voters. They were the attackers.
Election Day Starts with Harassment at the Polls and Devolves into a Mass Shooting
The 4th ward political machine spilled into the neighboring 17% Black 5th ward. At 8:00 AM at Sixth and Lombard on October 10, 1871, Black and white men were moved into separate voting lines by 4th ward aligned police, an unprecedented and illegal move.
Police officers drag Black men out of line and beat or shoot them. A Black man’s tax records are questioned and he is dragged away from the polling window. The mayor comes twice to restore order but by 12:00 the combined discrimination at the window and the physical harassment of those standing in line causes tempers to blow. The scene devolves into chaos. Shots are fired. The poll closes.
At Emeline Street, 4th ward Alderman Bull McMullen, uniformed police, and Frank Kelly lead attacks on Black homes, smashing doors and encouraging mobs to “go to work.”
In his eulogy for Catto, Henry Highland Garnet called state sanctioned anti-Blackness a 'monster' and said public officials “trained and prompted the monster, and applauded in secret, hoping the monsters might go free.” Garnet was clear: officials in high positions were responsible as well.
The Human Toll
By the end of the day, at least two men were murdered, another five would soon die. A total of fifty four people had been injured or dead, 30 of them with gunshot wounds. Our sources at the end of this blog will give you the data. Our timeline gives an hour by hour breakdown.
In addition to Catto, the list of the dead is longer than most retellings allow: Jacob Gordon, Moses Wright, Levi Bolden, Isaac Chase, Octavius Catto, George Dougherty, William Bramwell.
Each of these men carried a story, and when we tell only Catto’s, we lose the weight of what happened.
October 9, 1871: Election Eve
Jacob Gordon was a forty-year-old stevedore, a husband to Frances Gordon, living on Russell Street (now S. Schell), south of Bainbridge. On election eve he stepped out to buy shoes and was chased down and shot in the back near the Institute for Colored Youth at the corner of Eighth and Bainbridge. He ran to safety and collapsed in front of his home on Russell street. He died two days later. He named Officer McNulty as his killer.
Moses Wright was twenty-nine, living on Pearl Street. He too was shot near Eighth and Bainbridge, around the same time as Jacob Gordon. He was taken to Pennsylvania Hospital, and discharged as “cured.” Days later his body was pulled from the Delaware River. His death was called a drowning. Given that he may have been able to identify his shooters and/or witnessed Gordon’s killers, we consider the drowning suspicious.
October 10, 1871: Election Day
Levi Bolden was twenty-two, a veteran of the U.S. Colored Troops. He and his wife Mary Ann had already buried an infant earlier that year. On election day he was shot by Sergeant Duffy at Seventh and St. Mary’s (now Rodman). He lingered in the hospital for nearly two weeks before dying on October 23, the same day as Catto’s funeral. Mary Ann’s grief must have been unbearable-child then husband. Two years later she also past away of an “abscess”. Her story is a reminder that the violence shattered families as well as individuals.
Isaac Chase was a thirty-year-old musician, a husband and father. He lived on Emeline Street (now Kater between 8th and 9th). When McMullen’s men came crashing through doors that afternoon, Chase likely stepped out to draw danger away from his children. He was shot in the back and his head crushed with an axe while his daughter Julia watched. His wife, Sarah Ellen Chase, testified at both Chase's trial and Catto's trial.
October 11, 1871: The Day After
And the violence did not end on October 10. The following day, George Dougherty, the white Democratic election officer who manned the Sixth and Lombard polling location, was killed in murky circumstances. On Election day, after polls closed, Democratic roughs attacked Republicans in the first ward. A man named Dougherty was shot. The next day, the Inquirer reports that a George Dougherty and a group of white men fired shots into Black homes on Cullen (now Bradford Alley), and that he was shot in return. Another report of a George Dougherty said that he was shot from Union Hall by a group of Black men. He died from his wounds.
William Bramwell, described in hospital records as a “mendicant,” a 19th century way of indicating extreme poverty, died on October 12 of “violence.” His poverty made his story easy for the city to discard. But his name belongs here too.
Catto Did Not Die Immediately
At about 3:30 p.m. Frank Kelly rounds on to South street after shooting at Rev. Asbury Smith. He sees Catto. They exchange words. Kelly shoots Catto. Wounded, Catto pulls out his unloaded pistol, and runs behind the trolly car to escape Kelly. Seeing a policeman he recognizes, Officer McKnight, Catto approaches him. The policeman points his gun at Catto's head. Catto indicates to the policeman that he himself is injured and needs help.
"Mac", he said, "Give me your protection." This was before the last shots hit Catto. In this picture we can see how close the policeman was to Catto.
Octavius Catto may have spent as many as five minutes alive between the first gunshot wound and the last.
According to Officer William St. Clair, Catto demanded protection from the officers after the first shot. It was not the first shot that killed him. Had protection been offered, he may not have died. Officer St. Clair indicates that there were a few minutes between the first shot and the third and fourth shots. Is it possible that Catto may have stood next to the policeman, assuming he was safe, and instead became a non-moving target for the gunman?
In the newspaper drawing, it appears the policeman would have seen Kelly coming towards Catto. During the trail, this officer, Robert McKnight testified that as he was lying Catto down, after he had disarmed him...then the next shots came.
There is an interesting anecdote about Catto's movement the night before the shooting. William Carl Bolivar wrote in the Philadelphia Tribune that when Catto arrived home on election eve, a member of his boarding house reported his hat stolen. Catto went "around the corner" to "one of the worst places in the Fourth ward" to retrieve it. Might Bull McMullen's saloon, just a short walk around the corner from Catto's home, have been that worst place? If so, that could indicate that Kelly and Catto saw each other the night before at McMullen's Saloon and thus, recognizing each other, exchanged words the next day. While it's easy to pass this off as speculation, the source indicates an essence of an important hint here. This anecdote was first printed in the Tribune and then reprinted in its entirety in W.E.B Du Bois The Philadelphia Negro.
Who can say what really happens in the confusion of the moment. And legal experts tell us that testimony recalling events 7 years earlier is always fraught with inaccuracies. However, given the violence of politically aligned police that day, it is a possibility that the police at the site of Catto's killing may have been complicit.
Either way - the way we've been told this story - Catto walking into Kelly, Kelly shooting him, Catto dropping and dying on the spot - is not in alignment with witness testimony.
And the possibility exists that Catto may have thought he was safe in police hands.
As the police were focused on Catto, Kelly walked casually up South street, and then started running down Ninth to Bainbridge where he disappeared in a tavern. He was found years later living in Chicago and brought back to Philadelphia for trial.
A Murderous Rampage
Bull McMullen's orchestrated campaign of terror emanated from his saloon at Emeline (now Kater) and 8th Street.
It began the night before with the shootings of Jacob Gordon and Moses Wright.
Then about 1:00 pm on election day, McMullen must have ordered a ratcheting up of the violence. His thugs tore down Emeline street, first trying to break down doors, and then turning the hatchet on Isaac Chase. Henrietta Howard heard Frank Kelly order the men saying "Break the doors open and go to Work". While Frank Kelly was implicated in these attacks, witnesses in both the press and the trial report a crowd of white men with him, some of them covered in blood. So Kelly was not operating alone but as part of, and most likely leading, a band of "Democratic roughs" roaming the streets to terrorize and suppress the Black vote.
Notably, shootings happened within close proximity to Bull McMullen's Saloon.
And specifically on election day, Catto's murderer had already committed murder and attempted murder hours before Catto's death.
Time | Act | Location |
1:30 PM | Kills Isaac Chase with an axe | Emeline Street - now Kater, between 8th and 9th |
2:30 PM | Shoots and wounds John Fawcett | Eighth and South |
3:00 PM | Shoots at but does not wound Rev. Asbury Smith | Bainbridge and Lisle Street (now South Mildred) |
4:00 PM | Kills Octavius Catto | On South between 8th and 9th |
Myth Busting
We are intentionally challenging a few myths with this refame.
The Accident -> The Target
Here we transition from the mythical narrative that finds Kelly and Catto accidentally running into each other, to one that finds Catto at the end of a two day rampage of murder targeting Black men.
Just Catto -> Mass Shooting
Here we transition from identifying Catto as the only man killed that day, to 7 total deaths, 30 gunshot wounds and 47 injured. See the data here.
A Local Get Out the Vote Guy -> Local Leader in a National Movement
Catto wasn't getting out the vote in his free time. He was part of a national movement, in which Black Philadelphians were playing a much larger role; even being asked to Washington, DC.
Racist Thug -> Leader of an Anti-Black Terror Unit
Frank Kelly wasn't a lone operative - he was part of the ward 4 Democratic machine. This machine organized a terror unit to suppress the Black vote on election day.
Immediate Death -> Time Enough to Demand Police Protection
Catto died in a policeman's arms. He demanded the police's protection. And he didn't die immediately - there were minutes between the first shot and the last.
Waiting for Justice
One of the most haunting details of this story comes seven years later, when Frank Kelly was finally caught. William Minton, Catto's friend and Banneker Institute brother, produced the bullet that had killed Catto. He had received it from one of the medical examiners and kept it locked in his secretary all those years. He was waiting for the day when justice could be served.
That detail matters. It shows that Catto’s community did not simply mourn and move on. They preserved evidence, they remembered, they bore witness. They carried the hope that justice, delayed though it might be, would come.
Why We Need a Reframe
So why does the narrative still shrink down to one man, one moment, wrong place, wrong time?
Because that version is easier.
It individualizes violence. It turns systemic terror into personal misfortune.
But when we tell it that way, we commit another act of erasure. We erase the political power Black people had built, and the organized, municipality-sanctioned violence deployed to stop them.
We erase the names and lives of Jacob Gordon, Moses Wright, Levi Bolden, Isaac Chase, George Dougherty, and William Bramwell.
We erase the suffering of Mary Ann Bolden, the courage of Sarah Ellen Chase, the persistence of William Minton.
The thoughts and actions of Philadelphians towards justice have been important to the welfare of this entire nation from its inception. We cannot risk falling into historical illusions with our own history.
To heal, this story needs truth; and we need the truth of this story.
Sources:
