by Paul R. Spitzzeri
As we bring this look at some of the remarkable life and career of Robert Charles O’Hara Benjamin, who was the first Black lawyer admitted to practice in Los Angeles as well as in California, to a close, we note that, early in 1897, the Xenia Gazette-News-Current of 9 February briefly reported that he was still a resident of city east of Dayton, Ohio, but recently was hired as an associate editor of the Black-owned Lexington Standard in the Kentucky metropolis, while he also was working as an attorney on five criminal cases in an adjoining county, the first African-American lawyer there to attempt such a caseload.
By May, he accepted a position that was mentioned in part eleven, as the Washington Post of the 10th observed that he was among the Board of Managers of the John Hay Industrial School, formerly the Alexandria Normal and Industrial School in that Virginia city. It is unclear, though, how involved he was in the institution’s operation and how long his tenure was there.

The 11 June edition of the Xenia paper briefly remarked that Benjamin was knocked to the ground by a police officer in Nicholasville, southwest of Lexington, “because he (Benjamin) had written the officer up in one of the Lexington newspapers,” this presumably being the Standard. The officer was arrested, though Benjamin declined to prosecute.
Five days later, the Lexington Herald-Leader published a short feature on Benjamin in connection with the officer and gave some details of his background, though it said he was a native of Xenia. It also repeated that he was appointed as Antigua consul, though it was a proposed nomination, while adding that he declined the post to become an assistant federal district attorney in San Francisco—something that was not found during his two-year stay in that California metropolis.

After commenting that Benjamin “is a man of education and bears the distinction of being an author of several creditable works,” one of these, “A History of the American Negro,” which was a 20-page pamphlet published in 1894 while he resided in Providence, was said to have been “used in several of the Southern schools as a textbook,” though there is no known corroboration for the statement.
Benjamin moved to Alexandria by early August, with that town’s Gazette of the 2nd stating that he was offered the position of principal at the school and that he was likely to be offered a pastorate at a Baptist Church, he having once more changed his religious affiliation. Yet another change took place the following month when he took over editorship of the Standard and returned to Lexington.

The 24 September edition of a Nicholasville paper summarized a speech in the county courthouse in that town on “The Negro in Politics,” with the remark that “quite a number of white people were present.” Benjamin returned again to his theme of independence, as it was noted,
The substance of his address was to prevail upon the colored man not to identify himself with any party, but to cast his vote for the man who proved to be his friend, regardless of party affiliation. He said that the negro had been the pack mule long enough of the Republican party and that they should no longer wear the yoke which said party had put about their necks . . .
The paper commented that “Benjamin is far above the average negro intellectually” and it was asserted that Black residents of Nicholasville were likely to follow his advice as “Benjamin prevailed upon the negroes present to form themselves into an [independent] organization . . . [and] in the future to cast their ballots for the best man.”

The same day’s Cincinnati Enquirer published a dispatch from the Kentucky town that claimed that Jessamine County’s “colored voters are in active revolt” and identified Benjamin as standing “at the head of the upheaval.” He and associates were forming, in each county, a chapter of an Independent Negro Political League,” with plans for a state convention, though it was added that there was no clear idea of what would be done beyond that.
Benjamin was quoted as suggesting that,
[The Black man] can never be a political success as long as he is led by the nose by men who will say anything and do anything, however far from the truth, to get his vote. The negro has the ballot; he should be taught to use it. He is clothed with citizenship; he should know its responsibilities. The negro is narrow in his training, but he will grow in esteem and confidence of the American people in proportion as he grows in liberality and tolerance.
He added that “a white man has no more right to tell me how to cast my ballot than he has to tell me what kind of meat I should eat for breakfast” while also remarking, “I am a race man and not a party man.” He then asserted, “so far as the negro is concerned, none of the parties cares a fig for him” and professed, “I am ready to stab to death any party who robs me of my confidence and vote, degrades our manhood and makes our citizenship a mockery.”

Benjamin invoked the fight of Americans in the Revolution against England and lack of representation and it was time for African-Americans to demand more representation in the current environment. Otherwise, he concluded with a rhetorical flourish of note, he expected that, when Gabriel blows his horn to wake the dead to eternal life, “some narrow-hearted white Republican will be standing at the gate of heaven, crying “go back; go back, you niggers; it is not time.”
Through the fall, Benjamin’s effort to instill political independence among Black voters continued, with the Kentucky newspaper, the Owensboro Messenger of 6 November citing his Standard as referring to the result of a state election as a lesson for Republicans to learn because “the negro is the only true friend of the party.” White members of the G.O.P., he continued, trounced by the Democrats, deserved their defeat as “the negro, after all, is the only true and genuine Republican and the loss “is but the first installment of the reward they shall receive for their treachery to the negro.”

While relatively little about Benjamin’s law practice appeared in media accounts during these last years of his life, he was involved in a couple of notable cases in 1897. The 2 October edition of the Herald-Leader informed readers that “the Lexington Police Court today had the unusual spectacle of a Negro attorney prosecuting a Negro charged with theft” because Benjamin, who was a bystander in the courtroom representing his paper, was appointed by the judge to take the place of the no-show city attorney and secured the conviction.
In mid-December, Benjamin was again on the prosecuting side in a trial involving a white teen, fifteen years of age, named Robert Davidson who was charged with the attempted rape of an 11-year-old Black girl, Lida Cleveland. Remarkably, though Davidson was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison, the fact that Benjamin, at trial, “censured the defense for not placing the defendant on the stand,” led to the judge granting a retrial—the result was a hung jury and Davidson was freed.

During the first part of 1898, Benjamin contracted pneumonia and nearly died, so there was little mention of him in the press until nearly halfway through the year. The Louisville Courier-Journal of 1 June praised William Littlefield, a Massachusetts Black man who was reported to have killed three police officers trying to arrest him and his father, for reasons not stated. The Standard editor replied “if we had more Littlefields there would not be quite so many negroes arrested on suspicion” and he asserted that “eye for an eye” was necessary and that,
Shoot and shoot, kill and kill, fight and fight, curse and curse, damn and damn in the series of resolutions the negroes much adopt or be lynched, burned at the stake and be totally annihilated by the white man. Hoorah for William Littlefield.
The Herald-Leader of the 21st reprinted from the Standard and Benjamin’s accusation that “Negroes are lynched every day” in the South “and not a line is seen in either of these [three] great [white] Lexington dailies about it,” leading the paper to offer a strange rejoinder, asserting that it “has shown its horror of lynching in every possible way” but “does not believe that the publication of the horrible details of a few more cases would materially affect public sentiment,” meaning its white readers.

In a letter to the editor in the same issue, he opposed, in the midst of America’s war against Spain, the direct recruitment of African-Americans to join the Army, when white men were volunteering and forming their own regiments, and especially because Black soldiers were being slighted, not permitted to become officers and could not establish regiments comprised of men of their race. Moreover, he claimed the war would not end quickly and, once thousands of white soldiers died, a clamor for African-American troops would follow, though this was not the case.
At the end of the month, Benjamin was in Boston in a meeting of an organization formed for the “discussing the interests and future of the colored party, a national split from the Republican party.” Moreover, his strong editorial tone led the Washington Colored American of 2 July to remark, “Editor Benjamin is perhaps the most pungent, fearless and original pen-wielder in the entire press fraternity.”

He remained in Boston for an extended period and the Herald-Leader of 22 July cited that city’s Black-owned Advance, which called him “undoubtedly master of all he professes” to undertake as an attorney, author, journalist, lecturer, minister and more” and gushed that he possessed a “wonderful combination of abilities” but Benjamin “embodies them in his one extraordinary person.” The Massachusetts paper concluded that “his sermons and lectures . . . since his arrival here has [sic] convinced us that all the Negro needs to make him great is opportunity.”
After returning to Lexington, following stops in Alexandria and Washington, Benjamin announced another run for Congress, though he allowed “he did not expect to win, but was going into the convention to see what chance the negro has.” In late September, he vowed that, if there were any “chicanery or slight [sic] of hand trick” at the convention, “I shall take the field independently and show the white Republicans . . . how insignificant is their vote.”

The Colored American of 15 October reported on a movement by African-Americans in seven Southern and Midwestern states to form a “Negro Protective” ticket in districts where Black votes were enough to alter “the balance of power” and Benjamin was among this group. Yet, when it came to the 7th District in Kentucky, he was, unsurprisingly, not nominated by the Republicans and the Democrat won with two-thirds of the tally. Incidentally, a 20 October mention in the Los Angeles Times credited Henry T. Gage, a lawyer and next California governor with helping Benjamin get admitted to practice in the Angel City.
After the election, Benjamin employed the “eye for an eye” motto in another Standard editorial, opining “the most amusing phenomenon in America is to see the white man stare and squirm when a negro asserts his manhood,” so he asserted,
If the whites resort to the gun and the torch, let the negro do the same, and if the blood must flow like water and bonfires be made of valuable property, so be it all around, for what is fair for the white man to do to teach the negro his place, is fair for the negro to do to teach the white man his place . . . If the white man uses the torch and assassin’s knife, let the negro do the same. It is apparent the white man is determined to crush and cower the negroes into abject slavery, and negroes should resist this determination to the death.
The Standard apparently was not highly profitable, as 1899 dawned with an exhortation, humorous as it was, for subscribers to provide any number of in kind payments, including “chickens, spareribs, pumpkins, cord wood, chipmunks, potatoes, eggs . . . whisky, soap, molasses . . . cod-liver oil, calico, sugar, stockings . . . smoked herrings, lard, pepper sauce, corsets” or many other items.

He continued publishing small books or pamphlets, with early February bringing the 50-page Ethnography, or Origin of the Negro. He also went on submitting lengthy letters to the editors of newspapers like the Herald-Leader, which on New Year’s Day published his analysis of “The Negro Question.” Despite all that African-Americans did for their country, it was clearly the white man’s domain, which meant the “eternal subjection of the Negro,” and while he professed to keep a positive outlook, Benjamin did not “see any hope for the American Negro.
He concluded that holding conferences and meetings, plenty of which he attended if not organized, were meaningless and his advice was “let us abandon our errors, reform our habits, improve our manners, dispel our ignorance and build up our characters” so that Black people might “combat this feeling against us by lives and acquirements which will put it to shame.”

Benjamin served in early May as acting city attorney in Lexington’s police court, but, later in the month, was held to answer on a libel charge because of a letter he wrote to an African-American man, in which he wrote “I have a publication against your wife which will do her great harm and if you will pay me the sum of $25 I will omit it.” Benjamin, however, denounced the document as a forgery and that any allegations of such extortion were categorically untrue. The case was continued until the next year, as noted below.
His political activism continued, as well, with a gathering of Black men at Lexington in July 1899 leading to the idea of an all-Black ticket for the state elections and Benjamin mentioned as a possible candidate for governor. At the end of September, it was reported that he was offered the position of principal at the John Hay school and, if such was tendered and he’d accepted, the change in the direction of his life would have been significant.

Then, again, his penchant for pungent and pointed prose was unabated. The 2 September edition of the Colored American reprinted a scathing editorial about African-Americans who refused to consider political office because of fear for their lives among other reasons as he wrote:
If the southern white press is looking for a “nigger” who is an idiot, and if the President wants to know the whereabouts of a black constituent who don’t care a continental whether an appointment as postmaster or anything else breeds trouble or not, he can locate such a man in the person of the editor of the Standard. Send on your commission Mr. President, and let it be something fat and juicy.
This led the Washington paper to remark that “Benjamin is a bright man and a good fellow, but like all radicals, is sometimes rash, indiscreet and given to error; but he is right oftener than he is wrong and if more Negroes possessed his brains and manhood, the race’s cause would move forward with a rush.”

The libel suit came to trial in March 1900 and the Black-owned Birmingham Wide Awake of the 14th noted “we hope he’ll be able to come out more than conquorer [sic], but our experience has been that negro newspaper men stand very poor show before the courts of this country.” With few examples of success by Black journalists, the paper added that “the average Judge think[s] they see in that class of the new negro up to date” an opportunity “to muzzle the free spirit of the negro press.” The Huntsville Journal also hoped for the best and implored that “the people of Kentucky cannot afford to let his hands fall,” adding, “hold them up, Benjamin stands for the right.” In fact, he was found guilty, though his fine was a penny and court costs.
Still, the Standard and Benjamin were hailed in February by the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle in New York, which remarked that “in the dignity, purity, strength and interest of its contents it would be a credit to any journalist of any race.” He was also readying for a role in the 1900 presidential election, penning a campaign song for Republicans William McKinley for President and Theodore Roosevelt for Vice-President—here are some sample lines:
McKinley is our standard-bearer
A statesman, soldier, too,
Reverberate throughout the Nation,
Redoubtable and true.
Hold the fort for home industries,
Bill and Teddie will,
Sweep the Stars from Maine to Kansas
By our votes they will . . .
Now we’ll wave the starry banner
Over every foe,
Shout hurrah for Bill and Teddie,
Hear the bugle blow.
At the end of July, the American Protective League, an African-American political organization, held its conference at Indianapolis was to have an address by Benjamin on “The New Negro,” though it was not confirmed whether he appeared at what was a disappointingly low turnout for the confab.

The most notable public reference to Benjamin for most of this final year of the 19th century was his involvement in a criminal case tied to the assassination of Kentucky’s newly elected governor, William Goebel, who remains the only state chief executive in American history killed while in office. The Democrat won the seat, however, by a controversial decision from an election board established by a law he authored while in the legislature and stocked with his own choices. When the count was razor-close, the law was invoked and, not surprisingly, Goebel chosen over Republican William Taylor. He was then gunned down while walking to the state capitol to officially be recognized as the winner and he died a few days after being sworn-in on his deathbed.
Among those indicted for the assassination, including Taylor’s secretary of state who was convicted and imprisoned though later pardoned, was Richard “Tallow Dick” Combs, a Black man represented by Benjamin. After several months, Combs was released, though, at one point, Benjamin was accused of secretly working with Democrats leading the prosecution. He vigorously denied this and Combs stood by his counsel.

At the start of October, Benjamin again served in a prosecutor’s role in a case in which an African-American man was killed by two white men. On the 2nd, however, he was killed by Michael Moynahan, a Democratic Party tough in a particularly rough precinct where Benjamin was trying to register Black voters when Moynahan tried to intervene as a challenger to registrants. Characteristically, Benjamin defended the registrants and a fight broke out with Moynahan, pulling out his pistol and then punching Benjamin, who offered no resistance, several times before he was seized and taken to jail, where he was charged with assault.
The most detailed is from the Herald-Leader of the following day and it called the killing a “tragedy, a depressing and lamentable one in the extreme,” while also noting that Moynahan, employed by the city was under indictment for attacking a Black man in the 1899 registration effort at the same precinct. The paper remarked, however, that there was a lack of clarity in what transpired with Benjamin, but did report on the attack during the registration effort and that some witnesses claimed the lawyer threatened Moynahan, though it was added that there were conflicting views about this.

It was dark when Benjamin returned at 7 p.m., words were exchanged and then four or five gunshots burst out, as the attorney fled, while, when arrested, Moynahan claimed self-defense. Generally, said the Herald-Leader, those at the precinct were tight-lipped about what took place, with one claim that Benjamin fired first from a pistol he carried and another that he cursed at Moynahan, who then shot at the fleeing man. When Benjamin’s weapon was examined, it was thought by some that the only chamber lacking a bullet was so corroded that the gun had not been fired for some time, while Moynahan’s gun had no bullets, with five of the six chambers having empty shells and the last containing nothing.
When the examination was held, however, experts, apparently only for the defense, testified that Benjamin’s weapon was fired recently, while Moynahan fired two shots that hit the lawyer and two more that missed and did this as Benjamin was fleeing. The owner of a saloon heard the deceased threaten Moynahan at a saloon shortly before their last confrontation and several others confirmed that Benjamin was determined to kill his adversary. A defense witness also said he saw Benjamin shoot first before turning to run.

Moynahan testified, as well, and said that he procured an arrest warrant on a charge that Benjamin assaulted him and was heading to find a police officer to serve the warrant when he passed by the saloon and heard the threatening words. As he continued on his way, Moynahan stated that he saw that Benjamin was following him and “when the first shot was fired Moynahan says he then drew his pistol and fired two or three shots at Benjamin . . . because he thought he was in danger.”
The judge conducting the examination was convinced that the matter was self-defense and Moynahan was freed. While friends of the deceased talked about taking the matter to the grand jury, nothing further was done. At age 45, after two decades of traversing the continent, engendering both praise for his intelligence, writing ability and views on the condition of Black Americans as well as controversy, including legal issues and questionable claims about his background, education and some of his accomplishments, he was gunned down and left a widow and two young children.

The recently published book, The New Negro: A History in Documents, 1887-1937, edited by Henry Louis Gates and Martha Patterson provides remarkable primary sources from the period in which Benjamin lived and worked that discussed that concept—note that Benjamin had at least two references to the “new Negro” idea, as well. Much of what he embodied can certainly be seen in that light, as does the life of the next figure we’ll cover under the “Black Pioneers of Los Angeles County” heading: Dr. Monroe A. Majors. Join us for that next post!
After reading all parts of this post, I have mixed impressions of R.C.O. Benjamin. On the one hand, I was struck by his remarkable range of talents – spanning law, literature, religion, politics, writing, editing, and journalism, and by how much he managed to accomplish in just 45 short years of life. Without question, he was gifted and extraordinary.
On the other hand, his behaviors were erratic and his career was unstable. In Chinese, there is a saying: “If words are insincere, there must be something fishy; if things are abnormal, there must be something tricky” (言不由衷必有鬼, 事出反常必有妖). By this standard, it is understandable that many people were suspicious of his words and actions. These flaws were significant enough to overshadow his talents and obstruct his future prospects, even had he not been murdered at the age of 45.
In summary, I would say Benjamin was certainly distinct but not truly outstanding, because he lacked moral integrity and virtue – qualities essential to social trust and personal character, just as another Chinese old saying goes: “A gentleman wins people over by his virtue” (君子以德服人). I believe it may also explain why, despite regarding Frederick Douglass as his role model since youth, and despite once being mentioned by a newspaper immediately after Douglass in a list of prominent Black figures, Benjamin neither attained nor likely ever could have attained Douglass’s status.
Hi Larry, thanks for the comments about the Benjamin post and it was not initially intended to go beyond a few parts, but the more that was learned, much of it not seen elsewhere, it seemed to make sense to take the story of Benjamin further. He was unquestionably gifted, magnetic and compelling and he offered many cogent points about the state of Black Americans in the last two decades of the 19th century. Yet, there were other sides involving questionable aspects of his background, legal issues, sudden changes in location and residence, and more that have to be weighed with his obvious talents and accomplishments. His story is another reminder of the complexity, complications and nuances that are not enough acknowledged and understood in history. Hopefully, the post did that and was balanced in his approach concerning this remarkable figure who deserves to be remembered in Los Angeles history as well as many other places.