Title: The Negro in The American Rebellion - His Heroism and His Fidelity
Author: Brown, William Wells
Language: English
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THE NEGRO IN THE AMERICAN REBELLION

_His Heroism and His Fidelity_

By William Wells Brown

_Author of “Sketches of Places and People Abroad,” “The Black Man,” Etc_

Lee & Shepard, 149 Washington Street

1867



PREFACE.

Feeling anxious to preserve for future reference an account of the part
which the Negro took in suppressing the Slaveholders’ Rebellion, I have
been induced to write this work. In doing so, it occurred to me that a
sketch of the condition of the race previous to the commencement of the
war would not be uninteresting to the reader.

For the information concerning the services which the blacks rendered
to the Government in the Revolutionary War, I am indebted to the late
George Livermore, Esq., whose “Historical Research” is the ablest work
ever published on the early history of the negroes of this country.

In collecting facts connected with the Rebellion, I have availed myself
of the most reliable information that could be obtained from newspaper
correspondents, as well as from those who were on the battle-field. To
officers and privates of several of the colored regiments I am under
many obligations for detailed accounts of engagements.

No doubt, errors in fact and in judgment will be discovered, which I
shall be ready to acknowledge, and correct in subsequent editions. The
work might have been swelled to double its present size; but I did not
feel bound to introduce an account of every little skirmish in which
colored men were engaged.

I waited patiently, before beginning this work, with the hope that
some one more competent would take the subject in hand; but, up to the
present, it has not been done, although many books have been written
upon the Rebellion.

WILLIAM WELLS BROWN.

Cambridgeport, Mass., Jan. 1, 1867.



THE NEGRO IN THE AMERICAN REBELLION



CHAPTER I--BLACKS IN THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR AND IN 1812.

_The First Cargo of Slaves landed in the Colonies in 1620.--Slave
Representation in Congress.--Opposition to the Slave-Trade.--Crispus
Attucks, the First Victim of the Revolutionary War.--Bancroft’s
Testimony.--Capture of Gen. Prescott.--Colored Men in the War of
1812.--Gen. Andrew Jackson on Negro Soldiers._


I now undertake to write a history of the part which the colored men
took in the great American Rebellion. Previous to entering upon that
subject, however, I may be pardoned for bringing before the reader the
condition of the blacks previous to the breaking out of the war.

The Declaration of American Independence, made July 4, 1776, had
scarcely been enunciated, and an organization of the government
commenced, ere the people found themselves surrounded by new and trying
difficulties, which, for a time, threatened to wreck the ship of state.

The forty-five slaves landed on the banks of the James River, in the
colony of Virginia, from the coast of Africa, in 1620, had multiplied
to several thousands, and were influencing the political, social,
and religious institution’s of the country. Brought into the colonies
against their will; made the “hewers of wood and the drawers of
water;” considered, in the light of law and public opinion, as mere
chattels,--things to be bought and sold at the will of the owner; driven
to their unrequited toil by unfeeling men, picked for the purpose from
the lowest and most degraded of the uneducated whites, whose moral,
social, and political degradation, by slavery, was equal to that of the
slave,--the condition of the negro was indeed a sad one.

The history of this people, full of sorrow, blood, and tears, is full
also of instruction for mankind. God has so ordered it that one class
shall not degrade another, without becoming themselves contaminated. So
with slavery in America. The institution bred in the master insulting
arrogance, deteriorating sloth, pampered the loathsome lust it inflamed,
until licentious luxury sapped the strength and rottened the virtue of
the slave-owners of the South. Never were the institutions of a people,
or the principles of liberty, put to such a severe test as those of
the American Republic. The convention to frame the Constitution for
the government of the United States had not organized before the
slave-masters began to press the claims of their system upon the
delegates. They wanted their property represented in the national
Congress, and undue guarantees thrown around it; they wanted the African
slave-trade made lawful, and their victims returned if they should
attempt to escape; they begged that an article might be inserted in the
Constitution, making it the duty of the General Government to put down
the slaves if they should imitate their masters in striking a blow
for freedom. They seemed afraid of the very evil they were clinging so
closely to. “Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all.”

In all this early difficulty, South Carolina took the lead against
humanity, her delegates ever showing themselves the foes of freedom.
Both in the Federal Convention to frame the Constitution, and in the
State Conventions to ratify the same, it was admitted that the blacks
had fought bravely against the British, and in favor of the American
Republic; for the fact that a black man (Crispus Attucks) was the first
to give his life at the commencement of the Revolution was still fresh
in their minds. Eighteen years previous to the breaking out of the war,
Attucks was held as a slave by Mr. ‘William Brown of Framingham, Mass.,
and from whom he escaped about that time, taking up his residence in
Boston. The Boston Massacre, March 5, 1770, may be regarded as the first
act in the great drama of the American Revolution. “From that moment,”
 said Daniel Webster, “we may date the severance of the British Empire.”
 The presence of the British soldiers in King Street excited the
patriotic indignation of the people. The whole community was stirred,
and sage counsellors were deliberating and writing and talking about the
public grievances. But it was not for “the wise and prudent” to be the
first to _act_ against the encroachments of arbitrary power. “A
motley rabble of saucy boys? negroes and mulattoes, Irish Teagues,
and outlandish Jack tars” (as John Adams described them in his pica in
defence of the soldiers) could not restrain their emotion, or stop to
inquire if what they _must do_ was according to the letter of any law.
Led by Crispus Attucks, the mulatto slave, and shouting, “The way to get
rid of these soldiers is to attack the main guard; strike at the root;
this is the nest,” with more valor than discretion, they rushed to King
Street, and were fired upon by Capt. Preston’s Company. Crispins Attucks
was the first to fall: he and Samuel Gray and Jonas Caldwell were killed
on the spot. Samuel Maverick and Patrick Carr were mortally wounded.

The excitement which followed was intense. The bells of the town were
rung. An impromptu town meeting was held, and an immense assembly was
gathered.

Three days after, on the 8th, a public funeral of the martyrs took
place. The shops in Boston were closed; and all the bells of Boston and
the neighboring towns were rung. It is said that a greater number of
persons assembled on this occasion than were ever before gathered on
this continent for a similar purpose. The body of Crispus Attucks, the
mulatto slave, had been placed in Faneuil Hall, with that of Caldwell,
both being strangers in the city. Maverick was buried from his mother’s
house, in Union Street; and Gray from his brother’s, in Royal Exchange
Lane. The four hearses formed a junction in King Street; and there the
procession marched in columns six deep, with a long file of
coaches belonging to the most distinguished citizens, to the Middle
Burying-ground, where the four victims were deposited in one grave, over
which a stone was placed with this inscription:--

               “Long as in Freedom’s cause the wise contend,

               Dear to your country shall your fame extend;

               While to the world the lettered stone shall tell

               Where Caldwell, Attucks, Gray, and Maverick fell.”

The anniversary of this event was publicly commemorated in Boston, by
an oration and other exercises, every year until after our national
independence was achieved, when the Fourth of July was substituted for
the Fifth of March, as the more proper day for a general celebration.
Not only was the event commemorated, but the martyrs who then gave up
their lives were remembered and honored.

For half a century after the close of the war, the name of Crispus
Attucks was honorably mentioned by the most noted men of the country
who were not blinded by foolish prejudice. At the battle of Bunker Hill,
Peter Salem, a negro, distinguished himself by shooting Major Pitcairn,
who, in the midst of the battle, having passed the storm of fire
without, mounting the redoubt, and waving his sword, cried to the
“rebels” to surrender. The fall of Pitcairn ended the battle in favor of
liberty.

A single passage from Mr. Bancroft’s history will give a succinct
and clear account of the condition of the army, in respect to colored
soldiers, at the time of the battle of Bunker Hill:--

“Nor should history forget to record, that, as in the army at Cambridge,
so also in this gallant band, the free negroes of the colony had their
representatives. For the right of free negroes to bear arms in the
public defence was, at that day, as little disputed in New England as
their other rights. They took their place, not in a separate corps,
but in the ranks with the white man; and their names may be read on the
pension-rolls of the country, side by side with those of other soldiers
of the Revolution.”--_Bancroft’s History of the United States_, vol.
vii. p. 421.

The capture of Major-Gen. Prescott, of the British army, on the 9th of
July, 1777, was an occasion of great joy throughout the country. Prince,
the valiant negro who seized that officer, ought always to be remembered
with honor for his important service. The exploit was much commended at
the time, as its results were highly important; and Col. Barton, very
properly, received from Congress the compliment of a sword for his
ingenuity and bravery. It seems, however, that it took more than one
head to plan and to execute the undertaking. The following account of
the capture is historical:--.

“They landed about five miles from Newport, and three-quarters of a
mile from the house, which they approached cautiously, avoiding the main
guard, which was at some distance. _The colonel went foremost, with a
stout, active negro close behind him, and another at a small distance:
the rest followed so as to be near, but not seen._

“A single sentinel at the door saw and hailed the colonel: he answered
by exclaiming against, and inquiring for, rebel prisoners, but kept
slowly advancing. The sentinel again challenged him, and required the
countersign. He said he had not the countersign, but amused the sentry
by talking about rebel prisoners, and still advancing till he came
within reach of the bayonet, which, he presenting, the colonel suddenly
struck aside, and seized him. He was immediately secured, and ordered
to be silent on pain of instant death. _Meanwhile, the rest of the men
surrounding the house, the negro, with his head, at the second stroke,
forced a passage into it, and then into the landlord’s apartment. The
landlord at first refused to give the necessary intelligence; but, on
the prospect of present death, he pointed to the general’s chamber,
which being instantly opened by the negro’s head, the colonel, calling
the general by name, told him he was a prisoner.”--Pennsylvania
Evening Post_, Aug. 7, 1777 (in Frank Moore’s “Diary of the American
Revolution,” vol. i. p. 468).

There is abundant evidence of the fidelity and bravery of the colored
patriots of Rhode Island during the whole war. Before they had been
formed into a separate regiment, they had fought valiantly with the
white soldiers at Red Bank and elsewhere. Their conduct at the “Battle
of’ Rhode Island,” on the 29th of August, 1778, entitles them to
perpetual honor. That battle has been pronounced by military authorities
to have been one of the best-fought battles of the Revolutionary War.
Its success was owing, in a great degree, to the good fighting of the
negro soldiers. Mr. Arnold, in his “History of Rhode Island,” thus
closes his account of it:--

“A third time the enemy, with desperate courage and increased strength,
attempted to assail the redoubt, and would have carried it, but for
the timely aid of two Continental battalions despatched by Sullivan to
support his almost exhausted troops. It was in repelling these furious
onsets, that the newly raised black regiment, under Col. Greene,
distinguished itself by deeds of desperate valor. Posted behind a
thicket in the valley, they three times drove back the Hessians, who
charged repeatedly down the hill to dislodge them: and so determined
were the enemy in these successive charges, that, the day after the
battle, the Hessian colonel, upon whom this duty had devolved, applied
to exchange his command, and go to New York, because he dared not lead
his regiment again to battle, lest his men should shoot him for having
caused them so much loss.”--_Arnold’s History of Rhode Island_, vol. ii.
pp. 427, 428.

Three years later, these soldiers are thus mentioned by the Marquis de
Chastellux:--

“The 5th [of January, 1781] I did not set out till eleven, although I
had thirty miles’ journey to Lebanon. At the passage to the ferry, I met
with a detachment of the Rhode-Island regiment,--the same corps we had
with us all the last summer; but they have since been recruited and
clothed. The greatest part of them are negroes or mulattoes: they
are strong, robust men; and those I have seen had a very good
appearance.”--_Chastellux’s Travels_, vol. i. p. 454; London, 1789.

When Col. Greene was surprised and murdered, near Points Bridge, New
York, on the 14th of May, 1781, his colored soldiers heroically defended
him till they were cut to pieces; and the enemy reached him over the
dead bodies of his faithful negroes.

That large numbers of negroes were enrolled in the army, and served
faithfully as soldiers during the whole period of the war of the
Revolution, may be regarded as a well-established historical fact. And
it should be borne in mind, that the enlistment was not confined, by any
means, to those who had before enjoyed the privileges of free citizens.
Very many slaves were offered to, and received by, the army, on the
condition that they were to be emancipated, either at the time of
enlisting, or when they had served out the term of their enlistment. The
inconsistency of keeping in slavery any person who had taken up arms for
the defence of our national liberty had led to the passing of an order
forbidding “slaves,” as such, to be received as soldiers.

That colored men were equally serviceable in the last war with Great
Britain is true, as the following historical document will show:--


GENERAL JACKSON’S PROCLAMATION TO THE NEGROES.

_Headquarters, Seventh Military District, Mobile, Sept. 21, 1814_.

To the Free Colored Inhabitants of Louisiana.

Through a mistaken policy, you have heretofore been deprived of a
participation in the glorious struggle for national rights in which our
country is engaged. This no longer shall exist.

As sons of freedom, you are now called upon to defend our most
inestimable blessing. As Americans, your country looks with confidence
to her adopted children for a valorous support, as a faithful return
for the advantages enjoyed under her mild and equitable government. As
fathers, husbands, and brothers, you are summoned to rally around the
standard of the Eagle to defend all which is dear in existence.

Your country, although calling for your exertions, does not wish you
to engage in her cause without amply remunerating you for the services
rendered. Your intelligent minds are not to be led away by false
representations. Your love of honor would cause you to despise the man
who should attempt to deceive you. In the sincerity of a soldier, and
the language of truth, I address you.

To every noble-hearted, generous freeman of color, volunteering to serve
during the present contest with Great Britain, and no longer, there will
be paid the same bounty, in money and lands, now received by the white
soldiers of the United States; viz., one hundred and twenty dollars in
money, and one hundred and sixty acres of land. The non-commissioned
officers and privates will also be entitled to the same monthly pay, and
daily rations, and clothes, furnished to any American soldier.

On enrolling yourselves in companies, the Major-General Commanding will
select officers for your government from your white fellow-citizens.
Your non-commissioned officers will be appointed from among yourselves.

Due regard will be paid to the feelings of freemen and soldiers. You
will not, by being associated with white men in the same corps, be
exposed to improper comparisons or unjust sarcasm. As a distinct,
independent battalion or regiment, pursuing the path of glory, you will,
undivided, receive the applause and gratitude of your countrymen.

To assure you of the sincerity of my intentions, and my anxiety to
engage your invaluable services to our country, I have communicated my
wishes to the Governor of Louisiana, who is fully informed as to the
manner of enrollment, and will give you every necessary information on
the subject of this address.

ANDREW JACKSON,

_Major-General Commanding._

[Niles’s Register, vol. vii. p. 205.]

Three months later, Gen. Jackson addressed the same troops as follows:--

“To the Men of Color. Soldiers! From the shores of Mobile I collected
you to arms. I invited you to share in the perils and to divide the
glory of your white countrymen. I expected much from you; for I was not
uninformed of those qualities which must render you so formidable to an
invading foe. I knew that you could endure hunger and thirst, and all
the hardships of war. I knew that you loved the land of your nativity,
and that, like ourselves, you had to defend all that is most dear to
man. But you surpass my hopes. I have found in you, united to these
qualities, that noble enthusiasm which impels to great deeds.

“Soldiers! The President of the United States shall be informed of your
conduct on the present occasion; and the voice of the Representatives
of the American nation shall applaud your valor, as your general now
praises your ardor. The enemy is near. His sails cover the lakes. But
the brave are united; and, if he finds us contending with ourselves, it
will be for the prize of valor, and fame its noblest reward.”--_Niles’s
Register,_ vol. vii. pp. 345, 346.

Black men served in the navy with great credit to themselves, receiving
the commendation of Com. Perry and other brave officers.

_Extract of a Letter from Nathaniel Shaler, Commander of the
private-armed Schooner Gen. Tompkins, to his Agent in New York,
dated_,--

“At Sea, Jan. 1, 1813.

“Before I could get our light sails in, and almost before I could
turn round, I was under the guns, not of a transport, but of a large
_frigate!_ and not more than a quarter of a mile from her.... Her first
broadside killed two men, and wounded six others....

“My officers conducted themselves in a way that would have done honor to
a more permanent service....

“The name of one of my poor fellows who was killed ought to be registered
in the book of fame, and remembered with reverence as long as bravery is
considered a virtue. He was a black man, by the name of John Johnson.
A twenty-four pound shot struck him in the hip, and took away all the
lower part of his body. In this state, the poor brave fellow lay on the
deck, and several times exclaimed to his shipmates, ‘_Fire away, my boy:
no haul a color down._’ The other was also a black man, by the name of
John Davis, and was struck in much the same way. He fell near me, and
several times requested to be thrown overboard, saying he was only in
the way of others.

“When America has such tars, she has little to fear from the tyrants of
the ocean.”--_Niles’s Weekly Register, Saturday_, Feb. 26, 1814.



CHAPTER II--THE SOUTH-CAROLINA FRIGHT.


_Denmark Vesey, Peter Poyas, and their Companions.--The
deep-laid Plans.--Religious Fanaticism.--The Discovery.--The
Trials.--Convictions.--Executions._


Human bondage is ever fruitful of insurrection, wherever it exists, and
under whatever circumstances it may be found.

An undeveloped discontent always pervaded the black population of the
South, bond and free. Many attempts at revolt were made: two only,
however, proved of a serious and alarming character. The first was in
1812, the leader of which was Denmark Vesey, a free colored man, who had
purchased his liberty in the year 1800, and who resided in Charleston,
S.C. A carpenter by trade, working among the blacks, Denmark gained
influence with them, and laid a plan of insurrection which showed
considerable generalship. Like most men who take the lead in revolts, he
was deeply imbued with a religious duty; and his friends claimed that
he had “a magnetism in his eye, of which his confederates stood in great
awe: if he once got his eye on a man, there was no resisting it.”

After resolving to incite the slaves to rebellion, Denmark began taking
into his confidence such persons as he could trust, and instructing them
to gain adherents from among the more reliable of both bond and free.

Peter Poyas, a slave of more than ordinary foresight and ability, was
selected by him as his lieutenant; and to him was committed the arduous
duty of arranging the mode of attack, and of acting as the military
leader. Poyas voluntarily undertook the management of the most difficult
part of the enterprise, the capture of the main guard-house, and had
pledged himself to advance alone, and surprise the sentinel. Gullah
Jack, Tom Russell, and Ned Bennett,--the last two were not less
valuable than Peter Poyas; for Tom was an ingenious mechanic, and made
battle-axes, pikes, and other instruments of death with which to carry
on the war,--all of the above were to be generals of brigades, and
were let into every secret of the intended rising. It had long been the
custom in Charleston for the country slaves to visit the city in great
numbers on Sunday, and return to their homes in time to commence work
on the following morning. It was, therefore, determined by Vesey to have
the rising take place on Sunday. The slaves of nearly every plantation
in the neighborhood were enlisted, and were to take part. The details
of the plan, however, were not rashly committed to the mass of the
confederates: they were known only to a few, and were finally to have
been announced after the evening prayer-meeting on the appointed Sunday.
But each leader had his own company enlisted, and his own work marked
out. When the clock struck twelve, all were to move. Poyas was to lead a
party ordered to assemble at South Bay, and to be joined by a force
from James’ Island: he was then to march up and seize the arsenal and
guard-house opposite St. Michael’s Church, and detach a sufficient
number to cut off all white citizens who should appear at the
alarm-posts. A second body of blacks, from the country and the Neck,
headed by Ned Bennett, was to assemble on the Neck, and seize the
arsenal there. A third was to meet at Governor Bennett’s Mills under the
command of Rolla, another leader, and, after putting the governor and
intendant to death, to march through the city, or be posted at Cannon’s
Bridge, thus preventing the inhabitants of Cannons-borough from entering
the city.

A fourth, partly from the country and partly from the neighboring
localities in the city, was to rendezvous on Gadsden’s Wharf, and attack
the upper guard-house. A fifth, composed of country and Neck blacks, was
to assemble at Bulkley’s Farm, two miles and a half from the city,
seize the upper powder magazine, and then march down; and a sixth was
to assemble at Vesey’s, and obey his orders. A seventh detachment, under
Gullah Jack, was to come together in Boundry Street, at the head of King
Street, to capture the arms of the Neck company of militia, and to take
an additional supply from Mr. Duguereron’s shop. The naval stores
on Meg’s Wharf were also to be attacked. Meanwhile a horse company,
consisting of many draymen, hostlers, and butcher boys, was to meet at
Lightwood’s Alley, and then scour the streets to prevent the whites from
assembling.

Every white man coming out of his own door was to be killed, and, if
necessary, the city was to be fired in several places; a slow match for
this purpose having been purloined from the public arsenal, and placed
in an accessible position. The secret and plan of attack, however,
were incautiously divulged to a slave named Devany, belonging to Col.
Prioleau; and he at once informed his master’s family. The mayor, on
getting possession of the facts, called the city council together for
consultation. The investigation elicited nothing new, for the slaves
persisted in their ignorance of the matter; and the authorities began to
feel that they had been imposed upon by Devany and his informants, when
another of the conspirators, being bribed, revealed what he knew. Arrest
after arrest was made, and the mayor’s court held daily examinations for
weeks. After several weeks of incarceration, the accused, one hundred
and twenty in number, were brought to trial: thirty-four were sentenced
to transportation, twenty-seven acquitted by the court, twenty-five
discharged without trial, and thirty-five condemned to death. With but
two or three exceptions, all of the conspirators went to the gallows
feeling that they had acted right, and died like men giving their lives
for the cause of freedom. A report of the trial, written soon after,
says of Denmark Vesey, “For several years before he disclosed
his intentions to any one, he appears to have been constantly and
assiduously engaged in endeavoring to imbitter the minds of the colored
population against the whites. He rendered himself perfectly familiar
with those parts of the Scriptures which he could use to show that
slavery was contrary to the laws of God; that slaves were bound to
attempt their emancipation, however shocking and bloody might be the
consequences; and that such efforts would not only be pleasing to the
Almighty, but were absolutely enjoined, and their success predicted, in
the Scriptures.

“His favorite texts, when he addressed those of his own color, were
Zech. xiv. 1-3, and Joshua vi. 21; and, in all his conversations, he
identified their situation with that of the Israelites. Even while
walking through the streets in company with another, he was not idle;
for, if his companion bowed to a white person, he would rebuke him, and
observe that all men were born equal, and that he was surprised that any
one would degrade himself by such conduct; that he would never cringe
to the whites, nor ought any one who had the feelings of a man. When
answered, ‘We are slaves,’ he would sarcastically and indignantly reply,
‘You deserve to remain slaves;’ and if he were further asked, ‘What can
we do?’ he would remark, ‘Go and buy a spelling-book, and read the fable
of Hercules and the wagoner,’ which he would then repeat, and apply it
to their situation.

“He sought every opportunity of entering into conversation with white
persons, when they could be overheard by slaves near by, especially in
grog-shops, during which conversation, he would artfully introduce some
bold remark on slavery; and sometimes, when from the character of the
person he was conversing with he found he might be still bolder, he
would go so far, that, had not his declarations in such situations been
clearly proved, they would scarcely have been credited. He continued
this course till some time after the commencement of the last winter; by
which time he had not only obtained incredible influence amongst persons
of color, but many feared him more than they did their masters, and one
of them declared, even more than his God.”

The excitement which the revelations of the trial occasioned, and
the continual fanning of the flame by the newspapers, was beyond
description. Double guard in the city, the country patrol on horseback
and on foot, the watchfulness that was observed on all plantations,
showed the deep feeling of fear pervading the hearts of the
slave-holders, not only in South Carolina, but the fever extended to the
other Southern States, and all seemed to feel that a great crisis had
been passed. And, indeed, their fears appear not to have been without
ground; for a more complicated plan for an insurrection could scarcely
have been conceived.

Many were of opinion, that, the rising once begun, they would have taken
the city, and held it, and might have sealed the fate of slavery in the
South. The best account of this whole matter is to be found in an able
article in the “Atlantic Monthly” for June, 1861, from the pen of Col.
T. W. Higginson, and to which I am indebted for the extracts contained
in this sketch.



CHAPTER III.--THE NAT TURNER INSURRECTION.


_Nat Turner.--His Associates.--Their Meetings.--Nat’s Religious
Enthusiasm.--Bloodshed.--Wide-spread Terror.--The Trials and
Executions._


The slave insurrection which occurred in Southampton County, Na., in
the year 1831, although not as well planned as the one portrayed in the
preceding chapter, was, nevertheless, more widely felt in the South. Its
leader was Nat Turner, a slave.

On one of the oldest and largest plantations in Southampton County,
Va., owned by Benjamin Turner, Esq., Nat was born a slave, on the 2d of
October, 1800. His parents were of unmixed African descent. Surrounded
as he was by the superstition of the slave-quarters, and being taught by
his mother that he was born for a prophet, a preacher, and a deliverer
of his race, it was not strange that the child should have imbibed
the principles which were afterwards developed in his career. Early
impressed with the belief that he had seen visions, and received
communications direct from God, he, like Napoleon, regarded himself as
a being of destiny. In his childhood, Nat was of an amiable disposition;
but circumstances in which he was placed as a slave brought out
incidents that created a change in his disposition, and turned his kind
and docile feeling into the most intense hatred to the white race.

The ill-treatment he experienced at the hands of the whites, and the
visions he claimed to have seen, caused Nat to avoid, as far as he
could, all intercourse with his fellow-slaves, and threw around him a
gloom and melancholy that disappeared only with his life.

Both the young slave and his friends averred that a full knowledge of
the alphabet came to him in a single night. Impressed with the belief
that his mission was a religious one, and this impression strengthened
by the advice of his grandmother, a pious but ignorant woman, Nat
commenced preaching when about twenty-five years of age, but never went
beyond his own master’s locality. In stature, he was under the middle
size, long-armed, round-shouldered, and strongly marked with the African
features. A gloomy fire burned in his looks, and he had a melancholy
expression of countenance. He never tasted a drop of ardent spirits in
his life, and was never known to smile. In the year 1828, new visions
appeared to Nat; and he claimed to have direct communication with God.
Unlike most of those born under the influence of slavery, he had no
faith in conjuring, fortunetelling, or dreams, and always spoke with
contempt of such things. Being hired out to a cruel master, he ran away,
and remained in the woods thirty days, and could have easily escaped to
the Free States, as did his father some years before; but he received,
as he says in his confession, a communication from the Spirit, which
said, “Return to your earthly master; for he who knoweth his Master’s
will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes.” It was not
the will of his earthly but his heavenly Master that he felt bound to
do; and therefore Nat returned. His fellow-slaves were greatly incensed
at him for coming back; for they knew well his ability to reach Canada,
or some other land of freedom, if he was so inclined. He says further,
“About this time I had a vision, and saw white spirits and black spirits
engaged in battle; and the sun was darkened, the thunder rolled in the
heavens, and blood flowed ‘in streams; and I heard a voice saying, ‘Such
is your luck, such are you called on to see; and let it come, rough or
smooth, you must surely bear it!’” Some time after this, Nat had, as
he says, another vision, in which the spirit appeared and said, “The
Serpent is loosened, and Christ has laid down the yoke he has borne for
the sins of men; and you must take it up, and fight against the Serpent,
for the time is fast approaching when the first shall be last, and the
last shall be first.” There is no doubt but that this last sentence
filled Nat with enthusiastic feeling in favor of the liberty of his
race, that he had so long dreamed of. “The last shall be first, and the
first shall be last,” seemed to him to mean something. He saw in it the
overthrow of the whites, and the establishing of the blacks in their
stead; and to this end he bent the energies of his mind. In February,
1881, Nat received his last communication, and beheld his last vision.
He said, “I was told I should arise and prepare myself, and slay my
enemies with their own weapons.” The plan of an insurrection was now
formed in his own mind, and the time had arrived for him to take others
into the secret; and he at once communicated his ideas to four of
his friends, in whom he had implicit confidence. Hark Travis, Nelson
Williams, Sam Edwards, and Henry Porter were slaves like himself, and,
like him, had taken their names from their masters. A meeting must be
held with these, and it must take place in some secluded place where
the whites would not disturb them; and a meeting was appointed. The spot
where they assembled was as wild and romantic as were the visions that
had been impressed upon the mind of their leader.

Three miles from where Nat lived was a dark swamp, filled with reptiles,
in the middle of which was a dry spot, reached by a narrow, winding
path, and upon which human feet seldom ever trod, on account of its
having been the place where a slave had been tortured to death by a slow
fire, for the crime of having flogged his cruel and inhuman master. The
night for the meeting arrived, and they came together. Hark brought
a pig, Sam bread, Nelson sweet potatoes, and Henry brandy; and the
gathering was turned into a feast. Others were taken in, and joined the
conspiracy. All partook heartily of the food, and drank freely, except
Nat. He fasted and prayed. It was agreed that the revolt should commence
that night, and in their own masters’ households, and that each slave
should give his oppressor the death-blow. Before they left the swamp,
Nat made a speech, in which he said, “Friends and brothers! We are
to commence a great work to-night. Our race is to be delivered from
slavery, and God has appointed us as the men to do his bidding; and
let us be worthy of our calling. I am told to slay all the whites we
encounter, without regard to age or sex. We have no arms or ammunition,
but we will find these in the houses of our oppressors; and, as we go
on, others can join us. Remember that we do not go forth for the sake
of blood and carnage; but it is necessary, that, in the commencement
of this revolution, all the whites we meet should die, until we have an
army strong enough to carry on the war upon a Christian basis. Remember
that ours is not a war for robbery, and to satisfy our passions: it is a
struggle for freedom. Ours must be deeds, and not words. Then let’s away
to the scene of action.”

Among those who had joined the conspirators was Will, a slave, who
scorned the idea of taking his master’s name. Though his soul longed to
be free, he evidently became one of the party as much to satisfy revenge
as for the liberty that he saw in the dim distance. Will had seen a dear
and beloved wife sold to the negro-trader, and taken away, never to be
beheld by him again in this life. His own back was covered with scars,
from his shoulders to his feet. A large scar, running from his right eye
down to his chin, showed that he had lived with a cruel master. Nearly
six feet in height, and one of the strongest and most athletic of his
race, he proved to be the most unfeeling of all the insurrectionists.
His only weapon was a broad-axe, sharp and heavy.

Nat and his accomplices at once started for the plantation of Joseph
Travis, with whom the four lived; and there the first blow was struck.
In his confession, just before his execution, Nat said,--

“On returning to the house, Hark went to the door with an axe, for the
purpose of breaking it open,--as we knew we were strong enough to murder
the family should they be awakened by the noise; but, reflecting that
it might create an alarm in the neighborhood, we determined to enter the
house secretly, and murder them whilst sleeping. Hark got a ladder, and
set it against the chimney, on which I ascended, and, hoisting a window,
entered and came down stairs, unbarred the doors, and removed the guns
from their places. It was then observed that I must spill the first
blood. On which, armed with a hatchet, and accompanied by Will,
I entered my master’s chamber. It being dark, I could not give a
death-blow. The hatchet, glanced from his head: he sprang from the bed,
and called his wife. It was his last word. Will laid him dead with a
blow of his axe.”

They went from plantation to plantation, until the whole neighborhood
was aroused; and the whites turned out in large numbers to suppress the
rebellion. Nat and his accomplices fought bravely, but to no purpose.

Reinforcements came to the whites; and the blacks were overpowered and
defeated by the superior numbers of the enemy. In this battle, many were
slain on both sides. Will, the blood-thirsty and revengeful slave, fell
with his broad-axe uplifted, after having laid three of the whites dead
at his feet with his own strong arm and his terrible weapon. His last
words were, “Bury my axe with me.” For he religiously believed, that,
in the next world, the blacks would have a contest with the whites, and
that he would need his axe. Nat Turner, after fighting to the last with
his short sword, escaped with some others to the woods near by, and was
not captured for nearly two months. When brought to trial, he pleaded
“not guilty,” feeling, as he said, that it was always right for one to
strike for his own liberty. After going through a mere form of trial,
he was convicted and executed at Jerusalem, the county-seat for
Southhampton County, Ya. Not a limb trembled, or a muscle was observed
to move. Thus died Nat Turner, at the early age of thirty-one years, a
martyr to the freedom of his race, and a victim to his own fanaticism.
He meditated upon the wrongs of his oppressed and injured people till
the idea of their deliverance excluded all other ideas from his mind;
and he devoted his life to its realization. Every thing appeared to
him a vision, and all favorable omens were signs from God. He foretold,
that, at his death, the sun would refuse to shine, and that there would
be signs of disapprobation given from Heaven. And it is true that the
sun was darkened, a storm gathered, and more boisterous weather had
never appeared in Southampton County than on the day of Nat’s execution.
The sheriff, warned by the prisoner, refused to cut the cord that held
the trap. No black man would touch the rope. A poor old white man,
long-besotted by drink, was brought forty miles to be the executioner.

Fifty-five whites and seventy-three blacks lost their lives in the
Southampton Rebellion. On the fatal night, when Nat and his companions
were dealing death to all they found, Capt. Harris, a wealthy planter,
had his life saved by the devotion and timely warning of his slave Jim,
said to have been half-brother to his master. After the revolt had been
put down, and parties of whites were out hunting the suspected blacks,
Capt. Harris, with his faithful slave, went into the woods in search of
the negroes. In saving his master’s life, Jim felt that he had done his
duty, and could not consent to become a betrayer of his race; and, on
reaching the woods, he handed his pistol to his master, and said, “I
cannot help you hunt down these men: they, like myself, want to be free.
Sir, I am tired of the life of a slave: please give me my freedom, or
shoot me on tire spot.” Capt. Harris took the weapon, and pointed it at
the slave. Jim, putting his right hand, upon his heart, said, “This is
the spot; aim here.” The captain fired, and the slave fell dead at his
feet.



CHAPTER IV.--SLAVE REVOLT AT SEA.


_Madison Washington.--His Escape from the South.--His Love of
Liberty.--His Return.--His Capture.--The Brig “Creole.”--The
Slave-traders.--Capture of the Vessel.--Freedom of the Oppressed._


The revolt on board of the brig “Creole,” on the high seas, by a number
of slaves who had been shipped for the Southern market, in the year
1841, created at the time a profound sensation throughout the country.
Before entering upon it, however, I will introduce to the reader the
hero of the occasion.

Among the great number of fugitive slaves who arrived in Canada towards
the close of the year 1840, was one whose tall figure, firm step, and
piercing eye attracted at once the attention of all who beheld him.
Nature had treated him as a favorite. His expressive countenance painted
and reflected every emotion of his soul. There was a fascination in the
gaze of his finely cut eyes that no one could withstand. Born of African
parentage, with no mixture in his blood, he was one of the handsomest
of his race. His dignified, calm, and unaffected features announced at
a glance that he was endowed with genius, and created to guide his
fellow-men. He called himself Madison Washington, and said that his
birthplace was in the “Old Dominion.” He might have been twenty-five
years; but very few slaves have any correct idea of their age. Madison
was not poorly dressed, and had some money at the end of his journey,
which showed that he was not from amongst the worst-used slaves of the
South. He immediately sought employment at a neighboring farm, where he
remained some months. A strong, able-bodied man, and a good worker, and
apparently satisfied with his situation, his employer felt that he had
a servant who would stay with him a long while. The farmer would
occasionally raise a conversation, and try to draw from Madison some
account of his former life, but in this he failed; for the fugitive was
a man of few words, and kept his own secrets. His leisure hours were
spent in learning to read and write; and in this he seemed to take
the utmost interest. He appeared to take no interest in the sports and
amusements that occupied the attention of others. Six months had not
passed ere Madison began to show signs of discontent. In vain his
employer tried to discover the cause.

“Do I not pay you enough, and treat you in a becoming manner?” asked Mr.
Dickson one day when the fugitive seemed in a very desponding mood.

“Yes, sir,” replied Madison.

“Then why do you appear so dissatisfied of late?”

“Well, sir,” said the fugitive, “since you have treated me with such
kindness, and seem to take so much interest in me, I will tell you the
reason why I have changed, and appear to you to be dissatisfied. I
was born in slavery, in the State of Virginia. From my earliest
recollections I hated slavery, and determined to be free. I have never
yet called any man master, though I have been held by three different
men who claimed me as their property. The birds in the trees and the
wild beasts of the forest made me feel that I, like them, ought to be
free. My feelings were all thus centred in the one idea of liberty, of
which I thought by day and dreamed by night. I had scarcely reached my
twentieth year, when I became acquainted with the angelic being who
has since become my wife. It was my intention to have escaped with her
before we were married, but circumstances prevented.

“I took her to my bosom as my wife, and then resolved to make the
attempt. But, unfortunately, my plans were discovered; and, to save
myself from being caught and sold off to the far South, I escaped to the
woods, where I remained during many weary months. As I could not bring
my wife away, I would not come without her. Another reason for remaining
was that I hoped to get up an insurrection of the slaves, and thereby
be the means of their liberation. In this, too, I failed. At last it
was agreed, between my wife and I, that I should escape to Canada, get
employment, save my earnings, and with it purchase her freedom. With
the hope of attaining this end, I came into your service. I am now
satisfied, that, with the wages I can command here, it will take me
not less than five years to obtain by my labor the amount sufficient to
purchase the liberty of my dear Susan. Five years will be too long for
me to wait; for she may die, or be sold away, ere I can raise the money.
This, sir, makes me feel low spirited; and I have come to the rash
determination to return to Virginia for my wife.”

The recital of the story had already brought tears to the eyes of the
farmer, ere the fugitive had concluded. In vain did Mr. Dickson try to
persuade Madison to give up the idea of going back into the very grasp
of the tyrant, and risking the loss of his own freedom without securing
that of his wife. The heroic man had made up his mind, and nothing
could move him. Receiving the amount of wages due him from his employer,
Madison turned his face once more towards the South. Supplied with
papers purporting to have been made out in Virginia, and certifying
to his being a freeman, the fugitive had no difficulty in reaching the
neighborhood of his wife. But these “free papers” were only calculated
to serve him where he was not known. Madison had also provided himself
with files, saws, and other implements, with which to cut his way out of
any prison into which he might be cast. These instruments were so small
as to be easily concealed in the lining of his clothing; and, armed
with them, the fugitive felt sure he should escape again were he ever
captured. On his return, Madison met, in the State of Ohio, many of
those whom he had seen on his journey to Canada; and all tried to
prevail upon him to give up the rash attempt. But to every one he would
reply, “Liberty is worth nothing to me while my wife is a slave.” When
near his former home, and unable to travel in open day without being
detected, Madison betook himself to the woods during the day, and
travelled by night. At last he arrived at the old farm at night, and hid
away in the nearest forest. Here he remained several days, filled with
hope and fear, without being able to obtain any information about his
wife. One evening, during this suspense, Madison heard the singing of a
company of slaves, the sound of which appeared nearer and nearer, until
he became convinced that it was a gang going to a corn-shucking; and
the fugitive resolved that he would join it, and see if he could get any
intelligence of his wife.

In Virginia, as well as in most of the other corn-raising slave-States,
there is a custom of having what is termed “a corn-shucking,” to which
slaves from the neighboring plantations, with the consent of their
masters, are invited. At the conclusion of the shucking, a supper is
provided by the owner of the corn; and thus, together with the bad
whiskey which is freely circulated on such occasions, the slaves are
made to feel very happy. Four or five companies of men may be heard in
different directions, and at the same time, approaching the place of
rendezvous; slaves joining the gangs along the roads as they pass their
masters’ farms. Madison came out upon the highway; and, as the company
came along singing, he fell into the ranks, and joined in the song.
Through the darkness of the night he was able to keep from being
recognized by the remainder of the company, while he learned from the
general conversation the most important news of the day.

Although hungry and thirsty, the fugitive dared not go to the
supper-table for fear of recognition. However, before he left the
company that night, he gained information enough to satisfy him that
his wife was still with her old master; and he hoped to see her, if
possible, on the following night. The sun had scarcely set the next
evening, ere Madison was wending his way out of the forest, and going
towards the home of his loved one, if the slave can be said to have a
home. Susan, the object of his affections, was indeed a woman every way
worthy of his love. Madison knew well where to find the room usually
occupied by his wife, and to that spot he made his way on arriving
at the plantation; but, in his zeal and enthusiasm, and his being too
confident of success, he committed a blunder which nearly cost him
his life. Fearful that if he waited until a late hour, Susan would
be asleep, and in awakening her she would in her fright alarm the
household, Madison ventured to her room too early in the evening, before
the whites in the “great house” had retired. Observed by the overseer, a
sufficient number of whites were called in, and the fugitive secured ere
he could escape with his wife; but the heroic slave did not yield until
he with a club had laid three of his assailants upon the ground with his
manly blows; and not then until weakened by loss of blood. Madison was
at once taken to Richmond, and sold to a slave-trader, then making up a
gang of slaves for the New-Orleans market.

The brig “Creole,” owned by Johnson & Eperson of Richmond, and commanded
by Capt. Enson, lay at the Richmond dock, waiting for her cargo, which
usually consisted of tobacco, hemp, flax, and slaves. There were two
cabins for the slaves,--one for the men, the other for the women. The
men were generally kept in chains while on the voyage; but the women
were usually unchained, and allowed to roam at pleasure in their own
cabin. On the 27th of October, 1841, “The Creole” sailed from Hampton
Roads, bound for New Orleans, with her full load of freight, a hundred
and thirty-five slaves, and three passengers, besides the crew. Forty of
the slaves were owned by Thomas McCargo, nine belonged to Henry Hewell,
and the remainder were held by Johnson & Eperson. Hewell had once been
an overseer for McCargo, and on this occasion was acting as his agent.

Among the slaves owned by Johnson & Eperson, was Madison Washington. He
was heavily ironed, and chained down to the floor of the cabin occupied
by the men, which was in the forward hold. As it was known by Madison’s
purchasers that he had once escaped, and had been in Canada, they kept
a watchful eye over him. The two cabins were separated, so that the men
and women had no communication whatever during the passage.

Although rather gloomy at times, Madison on this occasion seemed very
cheerful, and his owners thought that he had repented of the experience
he had undergone as a runaway, and in the future would prove a more
easily-governed chattel. But, from the first hour that he had entered
the cabin of “The Creole,” Madison had been busily engaged in the
selection of men who were to act parts in the great drama. He picked out
each one as if by intuition. Every thing was done at night and in the
dark, as far as the preparation was concerned. The miniature saws and
files were faithfully used when the whites were asleep.

In the other cabin, among the slave-women, was one whose beauty at once
attracted attention. Though not tall, she yet had a majestic figure.
Her well-moulded shoulders, prominent bust, black hair which hung in
ringlets, mild blue eyes, finely-chiselled mouth, with a splendid set of
teeth, a turned and well-rounded chin, skin marbled with the animation
of life, and veined by blood given to her by her master, she stood as
the representative of two races. With only one-eighth of African blood,
she was what is called at the South an “octoroon.” It was said that her
grandfather had served his country in the Revolutionary War, as well
as in both Houses of Congress. This was Susan, the wife of Madison.
Few slaves, even among the best-used house-servants, had so good an
opportunity to gain general information as she.

Accustomed to travel with her mistress, Susan had often been to
Richmond, Norfolk, White-Sulphur Springs, and other places of resort for
the aristocracy of the Old Dominion. Her language was far more correct
than that of most slaves in her position. Susan was as devoted to
Madison as she was beautiful and accomplished.

After the arrest of her husband, and his confinement in Richmond jail,
it was suspected that Susan had long been in possession of the knowledge
of his whereabouts when in Canada, and knew of his being in the
neighborhood; and for this crime it was resolved that she should be
sold, and sent off to a Southern plantation, where all hope of escape
would be at an end. Each was not aware that the other was on board “The
Creole;” for Madison and Susan were taken to their respective cabins at
different times. On the ninth day out, “The Creole” encountered a rough
sea, and most of the slaves were sick, and therefore were not watched
with that vigilance that they had been since she first sailed. This was
the time for Madison and his accomplices to work, and nobly did they
perform their duty. Night came on, the first watch had just been
summoned, the wind blowing high, when Madison succeeded in reaching
the quarter-deck, followed by eighteen others, all of whom sprang to
different parts of the vessel, seizing whatever they could wield as
weapons. The crew were nearly all on deck. Capt. Enson and Mr. Merritt,
the first mate, were standing together, while Hewell was seated on the
companion, smoking a cigar. The appearance of the slaves all at
once, and the loud voice and commanding attitude of their leader, so
completely surprised the whites, that--

               “They spake not a word;

               But, like dumb statues or breathless stones,

               Stared at each other, and looked deadly pale.”

The officers were all armed; but so swift were the motions of Madison
that they had nearly lost command of the vessel before they attempted to
use them.

Hewell, the greater part of whose life had been spent on the plantation
in the capacity of a negro-driver, and who knew that the defiant looks
of these men meant something, was the first to start. Drawing his old
horse-pistol from under his coat, he fired at one of the blacks, and
killed him. The next moment Hewell lay dead upon the deck, for Madison
had struck him with a capstan bar. The fight now became general, the
white passengers, as well as all the crew, taking part. The battle was
Madison’s element, and he plunged into it without any care for his own
preservation or safety. He was an instrument of enthusiasm, whose value
and whose place was in his inspiration. “If the fire of heaven was in
my hands, I would throw it at those cowardly whites,” said he to his
companions, before leaving their cabin. But in this he did not
mean revenge, only the possession of his freedom and that of his
fellow-slaves. Merritt and Gifford, the first and second mates of the
vessel, both attacked the heroic slave at the same time. Both were
stretched out upon the deck with a single blow each, but were merely
wounded: they were disabled, and that was all that Madison cared for for
the time being. The sailors ran up the rigging for safety, and a moment
more he that had worn the fetters an hour before was master of the brig
“Creole.” His commanding attitude and daring orders, now that he was
free, and his perfect preparation for the grand alternative of liberty
or death which stood before him, are splendid exemplifications of
the true heroic. After his accomplices had covered the slaver’s deck,
Madison forbade the shedding of more blood, and ordered the sailors to
come down, which they did, and with his own hands dressed their wounds.
A guard was placed over all except Merritt, who was retained to navigate
the vessel. With a musket doubly charged, and pointed at Merritt’s
breast, the slaves made him swear that he would safely take the brig
into a British port. All things now secure, and the white men in chains
or under guard, Madison ordered that the fetters should be severed from
the limbs of those slaves who still wore them. The next morning “Capt.
Washington” (for such was the name he now bore) ordered the cook to
provide the best breakfast that the storeroom could furnish, intending
to surprise his fellow-slaves, and especially the females, whom he had
not yet seen. But little did he think that the woman for whom he had
risked his liberty and life would meet him at the breakfast-table. The
meeting of the hero and his beautiful and accomplished wife, the tears
of joy shed, and the hurrahs that followed from the men, can better be
imagined than described. Madison’s cup of joy was filled to the brim.
He had not only gained his own liberty, and that of one hundred and
thirty-four others, but his dear Susan was safe. Only one man, Howell,
had been killed. Capt. Enson, and others who were wounded, soon
recovered, and were kindly treated by Madison, and for which they proved
ungrateful; for, on the second night, Capt. Enson, Mr. Gilford, and
Merritt, took advantage of the absence of Madison from the deck,
and attempted to retake the vessel. The slaves, exasperated at this
treachery, fell upon the whites with deadly weapons. The captain and his
men fled to the cabin, pursued by the blacks. Nothing but the heroism of
the negro leader saved the lives of the white men on this occasion; for,
as the slaves were rushing into the cabin, Madison threw himself between
them and their victims, exclaiming, “Stop! no more blood. My life, that
was perilled for your liberty, I will lay down for the protection of
these men. They have proved themselves unworthy of life which we granted
them; still let us be magnanimous.” By the kind heart and noble bearing
of Madison, the vile slave-traders were again permitted to go unwhipped
of justice. This act of humanity raised the uncouth son of Africa far
above his Anglo-Saxon oppressors.

The next morning “The Creole” landed at Nassau, New Providence, where
the noble and heroic slaves were warmly greeted by the inhabitants, who
at once offered protection, and extended hospitality to them.

But the noble heroism of Madison Washington and his companions found
no applause from the Government, then in the hands of the slaveholders.
Daniel Webster, then Secretary of State, demanded of the British
authorities the surrender of these men, claiming that they were
murderers and pirates: the English, however, could not see the point.

Had the “Creole” revolters been white, and committed their noble act of
heroism in another land, the people of the United States would have been
the first to recognize their claims. The efforts of Denmark Vesey, Nat
Turner, and Madison Washington to strike the chains of slavery from the
limbs of their enslaved race will live in, history, and will warn all
tyrants to beware of the wrath of God and the strong arm of man.

Every iniquity that society allows to subsist for the benefit of the
oppressor is a sword with which she herself arms the oppressed. Right is
the most dangerous of weapons: woe to him who leaves it to his enemies.



CHAPTER V--GROWTH OF THE SLAVE-POWER.


_Introduction of the Cotton-gin.--Its effect on Slavery.--Fugitive Slave
Law.--Anthony Burns.--The Dred Scott Decision.--Imprisonment for reading
“Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”--Struggles with Slavery._


The introduction of the cotton-gin into the South, by Whitney of
Connecticut, had materially enhanced the value of slave property; the
emancipation societies of Virginia and Maryland had ceased to petition
their Legislatures for the “Gradual Emancipation” of the slaves; and the
above two States had begun to make slave-raising a profitable business,
when the American Antislavery Society was formed in the city of
Philadelphia, in the year 1833. The agitation of the question in
Congress, the mobbing of William Lloyd Garrison in Boston, the murder
of the Rev. E. P. Lovejoy in Illinois, and the attempt to put down
free speech throughout the country, only hastened the downfall of the
institution.

In the earlier days of the Antislavery movement, not a year, sometimes
hardly a month, passed that did not bear upon its record the report
of mobs, almost always ferocious in spirit, and sometimes cruel and
blood-stained in act. It was the first instinctive and brutal response
of a proslavery people convicted of guilt and called to repentance; and
it was almost universal. Wherever antislavery was preached, honestly,
and effectually, there the mobocratic spirit followed it; so that, in
those times, he who escaped this ordeal was, with some justice, held to
be either inefficient or unfaithful. Hardly a town or city, from Alton
to Portland, where much antislavery labor was bestowed, in the first
fifteen years of this enterprise, that was not the scene of one of
these attempts to crush all free discussion of the subject of slavery by
violence or bloodshed. Hardly one of the earlier public advocates of the
cause that was not made to suffer, either in person or in property,
or in both, from popular violence,--the penalty of obedience to the
dictates of his own conscience. Nor was this all: official countenance
was often given to the mad proceedings of the mob; or, if not given,
its protection was withheld from those who were the objects of popular
hatred; and, as if this were not enough, legislation was invoked to the
same end. It was suggested to the Legislature of one of the Southern
States, that a large reward be offered for the head of a citizen of
Massachusetts who was the pioneer in the modern antislavery movement. A
similar reward was offered for the head of a citizen of New York. Yet so
foul an insult excited neither the popular indignation nor legislative
resentment in either of those States.

Great damage was done to the cause of Christianity by the position
assumed on the question of slavery by the American churches, and
especially those in the Southern States. Think of a religious kidnapper!
a Christian slave-breeder! a slave-trader, loving his neighbor as
himself, receiving the “sacraments” in some Protestant church from the
hand of a Christian apostle, then the next day selling babies by the
dozen, and tearing young women from the arms of their husbands to feed
the lust of lecherous New Orleans! Imagine a religious man selling
his own children into eternal bondage! Think of a Christian defending
slavery out of the Bible, and declaring there is no higher law, but
atheism is the first principle of Republican Government!

Yet this was the stand taken, and maintained, by the churches in the
slave States down to the day that Lee surrendered to Grant.

One of the bitterest fruits of slavery in our land is the cruel spirit
of caste, which makes the complexion even of the free negro a badge
of social inferiority, exposing him to insult in the steamboat and the
railcar, and in all places of public resort, not even excepting the
church; banishing him from remunerative occupations; expelling him from
the legislative hall, the magistrate’s bench, and the jury-box; and
crushing his noblest aspirations under a weight of prejudice and
proscription which he struggles in vain to throw off. Against this
unchristian and hateful spirit, every lover of liberty should enter his
solemn protest. This hateful prejudice caused the breaking up of the
school of Miss Prudence Crandall, in the State of Connecticut, in the
early days of the antislavery agitation.

Next came the burning of Pennsylvania Hall, one of the most beautiful
edifices in the City of Brotherly Love, simply because colored persons
were permitted to occupy seats by the side of whites.

The enactment by Congress of the Fugitive Slave Law caused the friends
of freedom, both at home and abroad, to feel that the General Government
was fast becoming the bulwark of slavery. The rendition of Thomas Sims,
and still later that of Anthony Burns, was, indeed, humiliating in the
extreme to the people of the Northern States.

On that occasion, the sons of free, enlightened, and Christian
Massachusetts, descendants of the Pilgrim Fathers, bowed submissively to
the behests of a tyranny more cruel than Austrian despotism; yielded up
their dignity and self-respect; became the allies of slave-catchers, the
associates and companions of bloodhounds. At the bidding of slaveholders
and serviles, they seized the image of God, bound their fellow-man with
chains, and consigned him to torture and premature death under the lash
of a piratical overseer. God’s law and man’s rights were trampled upon;
the self-respect, the constitutional privileges, of the free States,
were ignominiously surrendered. A people who resisted a paltry tax upon
tea, at the cannon’s mouth, basely submitted to an imposition tenfold
greater, in favor of brutalizing their fellow-men. Soil which had
been moistened with the blood of American patriots was polluted by the
footsteps of slave-catchers and their allies.

The Boston Court House in chains, two hundred rowdies and thieves sworn
in as special policemen, respectable citizens shoved off the side-walks
by these slave-catchers; all for the purpose of satisfying “our brethren
of the South.” But this act did not appease the feelings, or satisfy the
demands, of the slave-holders, while it still further inflamed the fire
of abolitionism.

The “Dred Scott Decision” added fresh combustibles to the smouldering
heap. Dred Scott, a slave, taken by his master into free Illinois, and
then beyond the line of 36° 30’, and then back into Missouri, sued for
and obtained his freedom on the ground, that, having been taken where by
the Constitution slavery was illegal, his master had lost all claim.
But the Supreme Court, on appeal, reversed the judgment; and Dred
Scott, with his wife and children, was taken back into slavery. By this
decision in the highest court of American law, it was affirmed that no
free negro could claim to be a citizen of the United States, but was
only under the jurisdiction of the separate State in which he resided;
that the prohibition of slavery in any Territory of the Union was
unconstitutional; and that the slave-owner might go where he pleased
with his property, throughout the United States, and retain his right.

This decision created much discussion, both in America and in Europe,
and materially injured the otherwise good name of our country abroad.

The Constitution, thus interpreted by Judge Taney, became the emblem of
the tyrants and the winding sheet of liberty, and gave a boldness to
the people of the South, which soon showed itself, while good men at the
North felt ashamed of the Government under which they lived.

The slave-holders in the cotton, sugar, and rice growing States began to
urge the re-opening of the African slave-trade, and the driving out from
the Southern States of all free colored persons.

In the Southern Rights’ Convention, which assembled at Baltimore, June
8, 1800, a resolution was adopted, calling on the Legislature to pass
a law driving the free colored people out of the State. Nearly every
speaker took the ground that the free colored people must be driven out
to make the slave’s obedience more secure. Judge Mason, in his speech,
said, “It is the thrifty and well-to-do free negroes, that are seen by
our slaves, that make them dissatisfied.” A similar appeal was made to
the Legislature of Tennessee. Judge Catron, of the Supreme Court of
the United States, in a long and able letter to “The Nashville Union,”
 opposed the driving out of the colored people. He said they were among
the best mechanics, the best artisans, and the most industrious laborers
in the State, and that to drive them out would be an injury to the State
itself. This is certainly good evidence in their behalf.

The State of Arkansas passed a law driving the free colored people out
of the State, and they were driven out three years ago. The Democratic
press howled upon the heels of the free blacks until they had all been
expatriated; but, after they had been driven out, “The Little Rock
Gazette”--a Democratic paper--made a candid acknowledgment with regard
to the character of the free colored people. It said, “Most of the
exiled free negroes are industrious and respectable. One of them, Henry
King, we have known from our boyhood, and take the greatest pleasure in
testifying to his good character. The community in which he casts his
lot will be blessed with that noblest work of God, an honest man.”

Yet these free colored people were driven out of the State, and those
who were unable to go, as many of the women and children were, were
reduced to slavery.

“The New Orleans True Delta” opposed the passage of a similar law by the
State of Louisiana. Among other things, it said, “There are a large free
colored population here, correct in their general deportment, honorable
in their intercourse with society, and free from reproach so far as the
laws are concerned; not surpassed in the inoffensiveness of their lives
by any equal number of-persons in any place, North or South.”

And yet these free colored persons were not permitted by law to school
their children, or to read books that treated against the institution
of slavery. The Rev. Samuel Green, a colored Methodist preacher, was
convicted and sent to the Maryland penitentiary, in 1858, for the
offence of being found reading “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”

The growth of the “Free-Soil” party, which had taken the place of the
“Liberty” party; and then the rapid increase of the “Republican” party;
the struggle in Kansas; the “Oberlin Rescue Trials;” and, lastly, the
“John Brown Raid,” carried the discussion of slavery to its highest
point.

All efforts, in Congress, in the proslavery political conventions,
and in the churches, only added fuel to the flame that was fast making
inroads upon the vitals of the monster.



CHAPTER VI.--THE JOHN BROWN RAID.


_John Brown.--His Religious Zeal.--His Hatred to Slavery.--Organization
of his Army.--Attack on Harper’s Ferry.--His Execution.--John Brown’s
Companions, Green and Copeland.--The Executions._


The year 1859 will long be memorable for the bold attempt of John Brown
and his companions to burst the bolted door of the Southern house of
bondage, and lead out the captives by a more effectual way than they had
yet known: an attempt in which, it is true, the little band of heroes
dashed themselves to bloody death, but, at the same time, shook the
prison-walls from summit to foundation, and shot wild alarm into every
tyrant-heart in all the slave-land. What were the plans and purposes
of the noble old man is not precisely known, and perhaps will never be;
but, whatever they were, there is reason to believe they had been
long maturing,--brooded over silently and secretly, with much earnest
thought, and under a solemn sense of religious duty. As early as the
fall of 1857, he began to organize his band, chiefly from among the
companions of his warfare against the “Border Ruffians” in Kansas. Nine
or ten of these spent the winter of 1857-8 in Iowa, where a Col. Forbes
was to have given them military instruction; but he, having-fallen out
with Brown, did not join them, and Aaron D. Stevens, one of the company,
took his place.

About the middle of April, 1858, they left Iowa, and went to Chatham,
Canada, where, on the 8th of May, was held a convention, called by
a written circular, which was sent to such persons only as could be
trusted. The convention was composed mostly of colored men, a few of
whom were from the States, but the greater part residents in Canada,
with no white men but the organized band already mentioned. A
“Provisional Constitution,” which Brown had previously prepared, was
adopted; and the members of the convention took an oath to support it.
Its manifest purpose was to insure a perfect organization of all who
should join the expedition, whether free men or insurgent slaves, and to
hold them under such strict control as to restrain them from every act
of wanton or vindictive violence, all waste or needless destruction of
life or property, all indignity or unnecessary severity to prisoners,
and all immoral practices; in short, to keep the meditated movement
free from every possibly avoidable evil ordinarily incident to the armed
uprising of a long-oppressed and degraded people.

And let no one who glories in the revolutionary struggles of our fathers
for their freedom deny the right of the American bondsman to imitate
their high example. And those who rejoice in the deeds of a Wallace or a
Tell, a Washington or a Warren; who cherish with unbounded gratitude the
name of Lafayette for volunteering his aid in behalf of an oppressed
people in a desperate crisis, and at the darkest hour of their
fate,--cannot refuse equal merit to this strong, free, heroic man, who
freely consecrated all his powers, and the labors of his whole life, to
the help of the most needy, friendless, and unfortunate of mankind.

The picture of the Good Samaritan will live to all future ages, as the
model of human excellence, for helping one whom he chanced to find in
need.

John Brown did more: he went to _seek_ those who were lost that he might
save them.

On Sunday night, Oct. 16, John Brown, with twenty followers (five of
them colored), entered the town of Harper’s Ferry, in the State of
Virginia; captured the place, making the United-States Armory his
headquarters; sent his men in various directions in search of slaves
with which to increase his force.

The whole thing, though premature in its commencement, struck a blow
that rang on the fetters of the enslaved in every Southern State, and
caused the oppressor to tremble for his own safety, as well as for that
of the accursed institution.

John Brown’s trial, heroism, and execution, an excellent history of
which has been given to the public by Mr. James Redpath, saves me from
making any lengthened statement here. His life and acts are matters of
history, which will live with the language in which it is written. But
little can be said of his companions in the raid on slavery. They were
nearly all young men, unknown to fame, enthusiastic admirers of the old
Puritan, entering heartily into all of his plans, obeying his orders,
and dying bravely, with no reproach against their leader.

Of the five colored men, two only were captured alive,--Shields Green
and John A. Copeland. The former was a native of South Carolina, having
been born in the city of Charleston in the year 1832. Escaping to the
North in 1857, he resided in Rochester, N.Y., until attracted by the
unadorned eloquence and native magnetism of the hero of Harper’s Ferry.
The latter was from North Carolina, and was a mulatto of superior
abilities, and a genuine lover of liberty and justice. The following
letter, written a short time before his execution, needs no
explanation:--

“Charlestown, Va., Dec. 10, 1859.

“My dear Brother,--I now take my pen to write you a few lines to let you
know how I am, and in answer to your kind letter of the 5th inst. Dear
brother, I am, it is true, so situated at present as scarcely to know
how to commence writing: not that my mind is filled with fear, or that
it has become shattered in view of my near approach to death; not that I
am terrified by the gallows which I see staring me in the face, and
upon which I am so soon to stand and suffer death for doing what George
Washington, the so-called father of this great but slavery-cursed
country, was made a hero for doing while he lived, and when dead his
name was immortalized, and his great and noble deeds in behalf of
freedom taught by parents to their children. And now, brother, for
having lent my aid to a general no less brave, and engaged in a cause
no less honorable and glorious, I am to suffer death. Washington entered
the field to fight for the freedom of the American people,--not for the
white man alone, but for both black and white. Nor were they white men
alone who fought for the freedom of this country. The blood of black men
flowed as freely as that of white men. Yes, the _very first_ blood
that was spilt was that of a negro. It was the blood of that heroic
man (though black he was), Crispus Attucks. And some of the _very last_
blood shed was that of black men. To the truth of this, history, though
prejudiced, is compelled to attest. _It is true_ that black men did an
equal share of the fighting for American independence; and they were
assured by the whites that they should share equal benefits for so
doing. But, after having performed their part honorably, they were by
the whites most treacherously deceived,--they refusing to fulfil their
part of the contract. But this you know as well as I do; and I will
therefore say no more in reference to the claims which we, as colored
men, have on the American people....

“It was a sense of the wrongs which we have suffered that prompted the
noble but unfortunate Capt. Brown and his associates to attempt to give
freedom to a small number, at least, of those who are now held by cruel
and unjust laws, and by no less cruel and unjust men. To this freedom
they were entitled by every known principle of justice and humanity;
and, for the enjoyment of it, God created them. And now, dear brother,
could I die in a more noble cause? Could I, brother, die in a manner and
for a cause which would induce true and honest men more to honor me, and
the angels more readily to receive me to their happy home of everlasting
joy above? I imagine that I hear you, and all of you, mother, father,
sisters and brothers, say, ‘No, there is not a cause for which we, with
less sorrow, could see you die!’”

“Your affectionate brother,

“John A. Copeland.”

“The Baltimore Sun” says, “A few moments before leaving the jail,
Copeland said, ‘If I am dying for freedom, I could not die for a better
cause. _I had rather die than be a slave!_’ A military officer in charge
on the day of the execution says, ‘I had a position near the gallows,
and carefully observed all. I can truly say I never witnessed more firm
and unwavering: fortitude, more perfect composure, or more beautiful
propriety, than were manifested by young Copeland to the very last.’”

Shields Green behaved with equal heroism, ascending the scaffold with
a firm and unwavering step, and died, as he had lived, a brave man, and
expressing to the last his eternal hatred to human bondage, prophesying
that slavery would soon come to a bloody end.



CHAPTER VII--THE FIRST GUN OF THE REBELLION.


_Nomination of Fremont.--Nomination of Lincoln.--The Mob Spirit.--Spirit
of Slavery.--The Democracy.--Cotton.--Northern Promises to the
Rebels.--Assault on Fort Sumter.--Call for 75,000 Men.--Response of the
Colored Men._


The nomination of John C. Fremont by the Republican party in 1856, and
the large vote given him at the election that autumn, cleared away all
doubts, if any existed as to the future action of the Federal Government
on the spread and power of slavery. The Democratic party, which had
ruled the nation so long and so badly, saw that it had been weighed, and
found wanting; that it must prepare to give up the Government into the
hands of better men.

But the party determined to make the most of Mr. Buchanan’s
administration, both in the profuse expenditure of money among
themselves, and in getting ready to take the Southern States out of the
Union.

Surrounded by the men who believed that the Government was made for
them, and that their mission was to rule the people of the United
States, Mr. Buchanan was nothing more than a tool,--clay in the hands
of the potters; and he permitted them to prepare leisurely for disunion,
which culminated, in 1860, in the nomination of Abraham Lincoln for the
presidency.

The proslavery Democracy became furious at the prospect of losing the
control of the situation, and their hatred of free speech was revived.
From the nomination of Mr. Lincoln to his inauguration, mob-law ruled
in most of the cities and large villages. These disgraceful scenes,
the first of which commenced at the antislavery-meeting at the Tremont
Temple, Boston, was always gotten up by members of the Democratic party,
who usually passed a series of resolutions in favor of slavery. New
York, Philadelphia, Albany, Buffalo, Troy, Cincinnati, and Chicago, all
followed the example set by Boston.

These demonstrations were caused more by sympathy with the South, and
the long-accustomed subserviency of the Northern people to slaveholding
dictation, than to any real hatred to the negro.

During all this time the Abolitionists were laboring faithfully to widen
the gulf between the North and South.

Towards the close of the year 1860, the spirit of compromise began to
show itself in such unmistakable terms as to cause serious apprehension
on the part of the friends of freedom for the future of American
liberty. The subdued tone of the liberal portion of the press, the
humiliating offers of Northern political leaders of compromises, and the
numerous cases of fugitive slaves being returned to their masters, sent
a thrill of fear to all colored men in the land for their safety, and
nearly every train going North found more or less negroes fleeing to
Canada.

At the South, the people were in earnest, and would listen to no
proposals whatever in favor of their continuance in the Union.

The vast wealth realized by the slave-holder had made him feel that the
South was independent of the rest of the world.

Prosperity had made him giddy. Cotton was not merely king: it was God.
Moral considerations were nothing. The sentiment of right, he argued,
would have no influence over starving operatives; and England and
France, as well as the Eastern States of the Union, would stand aghast,
and yield to the masterstroke which should deprive them of the material
of their labor. Millions were dependent on it in all the great centres
of civilization; and the ramifications of its power extended into all
ranks of society and all departments of industry and commerce. It was
only necessary to wave this imperial sceptre over the nations; and all
of them would fall prostrate, and acknowledge the supremacy of the power
which wielded it. Nothing could be more plausible than this delusion.
Satan himself, when about to wage war in heaven, could not have invented
one better calculated to marshal his hosts, and give promise of success
in rebellion against the authority of the Most High. But, alas! the
supreme error of this anticipation lay in omitting from the calculation
all power of principle. The right still has authority over the minds of
men and in the counsels of nations. Factories may cease their din; men
and women may be thrown out of employment; the marts of commerce may be
silent and deserted: but truth and justice still command some respect
among men; and God yet remains the object of their adoration.

Drunk with power, and dazzled with prosperity, monopolizing cotton, and
raising it to the influence of a veritable fetich, the authors of the
Rebellion did not admit a doubt of the success of their attack on the
Federal Government. They dreamed of perpetuating slavery, though all
history shows the decline of the system as industry, commerce, and
knowledge advance. The slave-holders proposed nothing less than to
reverse the currents of humanity, and to make barbarism flourish in the
bosom of civilization.

Weak as were the Southern people in point of numbers and political
power, compared with those of the opposite section, the haughty
slave-holders easily persuaded themselves and their dependents that they
could successfully cope in arms with the Northern adversary, whom they
affected to despise for his cowardly and mercenary disposition. Proud
and confident, they indulged the belief that their great political
prestige would continue to serve them among their late party associates
in the North, and that the counsels of the adversary would be
distracted, and his power weakened, by the fatal effects of dissension.

The proslavery men in the North are very much to blame for the
encouragement that they gave the rebels before the breaking out of the
war. The Southerners had promises from their Northern friends, that,
in the event of a rebellion, civil war should reign in the free
States,--that men would not be permitted to leave the North to go South
to put down their rebellions brethren.

All legitimate revolutions are occasioned by the growth of society
beyond the growth of government; and they will be peaceful or violent
just in proportion as the people and government shall be wise and
virtuous or vicious and ignorant. Such revolutions or reforms are
generally of a peaceful nature in communities in which the government
has made provision for the gradual expansion of its institutions to
suit the onward march of society. No government is wise in overlooking,
whatever may be the strength of its own traditions, or however glorious
its history, that human institutions which have been adapted for a
barbarous age or state of society will cease to be adapted for more
civilized and intelligent times; and, unless government makes a
provision for the gradual expansion, nothing can prevent a storm,
either of an intellectual or a physical nature. Slavery was always the
barbarous institution of America; and the Rebellion was the result of
this incongruity between it and freedom.

The assault on Fort Sumter on the 12th of April, 1861, was the dawn of
a new era for the negro. The proclamation of President Lincoln, calling
for the first 75,000 men to put down the Rebellion, was responded to
by the colored people throughout the country. In Boston, at a public
meeting of the blacks, a large number came forward, put their names to
an agreement to form a brigade, and march at once to the seat of war.
A committee waited on the Governor three days later, and offered the
services of these men. His Excellency replied that he had no power to
receive them. This was the first wet blanket thrown over the negro’s
enthusiasm. “This is a white man’s war,” said most of the public
journals. “I will never fight by the side of a nigger,” was heard in
every quarter where men were seen in Uncle Sam’s uniform.

Wherever recruiting offices were opened, black men offered themselves,
and were rejected. Yet these people, feeling conscious that right would
eventually prevail, waited patiently for the coming time, pledging
themselves to go at their country’s call, as the following will show:--

“Resolved, That our feelings urge us to say to our countrymen that we
are ready to stand by and defend the Government as the equals of its
white defenders; to do so with our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred
honor, for the sake of freedom and as good citizens; and we ask you to
modify your laws, that we may enlist,--that full scope may be given to
the patriotic feelings burning in the colored man’s breast.”--_Colored
Men’s Meeting, Boston_.



CHAPTER VIII--THE UNION AND SLAVERY BOTH TO BE PRESERVED.


_Union Generals offer to suppress Slave Insurrections.--Return of Slaves
coming into our Army._


At the very commencement of the Rebellion, the proslavery generals
in the field took the earliest opportunity of offering their services,
together with those under their commands, to suppress any slave
insurrection that might grow out of the unsettled condition of the
country. Major-Gen. B. F. Butler led off, by tendering his services
to Gov. Hicks of Maryland. About the same time, Major-Gen. Geo.
B. McClellan issued the following, “_To the Union Men of Western
Virginia_,” on entering that portion of the State with his troops:--“The
General Government cannot close its ears to the demands you have made
for assistance. I have ordered troops to cross the river. They come as
Your friends and brothers,--as enemies only to the armed rebels who are
preying upon you. Your homes, your families, your property, are safe
under our protection. All your rights shall be religiously respected.
Notwithstanding all that has been said by the traitors to induce you to
believe our advent among you will be signalled by an interference with
your slaves, understand one thing clearly: not only will we abstain
from all such interference, but we shall, on the contrary, _with an iron
hand_, crush any attempt at insurrection on their part.”

Slaves escaping from their masters were promptly returned by the
officers of the army. Gen. W. S. Harney, commanding in Missouri, in
responding to the claims of slave-holders for their blacks, said,--

“Already, since the commencement of these unhappy disturbances, slaves
have escaped from their owners, and have sought refuge in the camps
of United-States troops from the Northern States, and commanded by a
Northern general. _They were carefully sent Back to their owners._”

The correspondent of “The New-York Herald” gave publicity to the
following:--

“The guard on the bridge across the Anacostia arrested a negro who
attempted to pass the sentries on the Maryland side. He seemed to feel
confident that he was among friends, for he made no concealment of his
character and purpose. He said he had walked sixty miles, and was going
North. He was very much surprised and disappointed when he was taken
into custody, and informed that he would be sent back to his master. He
is now in the guard-house, and answers freely all questions relating to
his weary march. Of course, such an arrest excites much comment
among the men. Nearly all are restive under the thought of acting
as slave-catchers. The Seventy-first made a forced march, and the
privations they endured have been honorably mentioned in the country’s
history. This poor negro made a forced march, twice the length--in
perils often, in fasting,--hurrying toward the North for his
liberty! And the Seventy-first catches him at the end of his painful
journey,--the goal in sight,--and sends him back to the master who even
now may be in arms against us, or may take the slave, sell him for a
rifle, and use it on his friends in the Seventy-first New-York Regiment.
Humanity speaks louder here than it does in a large city; and the
men who in New York would dismiss the subject with a few words about
‘constitutional obligations’ are now the loudest in denouncing the
abuse of power which changes a regiment of gentlemen into a regiment of
negro-catchers.” At Pensacola, Slemmer did even more, putting in irons
fugitives who fled to him for protection, and returning them to their
masters to be scourged to death. Col. Dimmick, at Fortress Monroe, told
the rebel Virginians that he had not an Abolitionist in his command, and
that no molestation of their slave-system would be suffered.

Gen. D. C. Buell, commanding in Tennessee, said, in reply to a committee
of slave-holders demanding the return of their fugitives,--

“It has come to my knowledge that slaves sometimes make their way
improperly into our lines, and in some instances they may be enticed
there; but I think the number has been magnified by report. Several
applications have been made to me by persons whose servants have been
found in our camps; and, in every instance that I know of, the master
has removed his servant, and taken him away.

“I need hardly remind you that there will always be found some lawless
and mischievous persons in every army; but I assure you that the mass of
this army is law-abiding, and that it is neither its disposition nor its
policy to violate law or the rights of individuals in any particular.”

Yet, while Union soldiers were returning escaped slaves to rebels,
it was a notorious fact that the enemy were using negroes to build
fortifications, drive teams, and raise food for the army.

Black hands piled up the Sand-bags, and raised the batteries, which
drove Anderson out of Sumter. At Montgomery, the capital of the
confederacy, negroes were being drilled and armed for military duty.



CHAPTER IX--INTELLIGENT CONTRABANDS


_James Lawson.--His Bravery.--Rescue of his Wife and Children.--He is
sent out on Important Business.--He fights his Way Back.--He is Admired
by Gens. Hooker and Sickles.--Rhett’s Servant.--“Foraging for Butter and
Eggs.”_


I spent three weeks at Liverpool Point, the outpost of Hooker’s
Division, almost directly opposite Aquia Creek, waiting patiently for
the advance of our left wing to follow up the army, becoming, if not
a participator against the dying struggles of rebeldom, at least a
chronicler of the triumphs in the march of the Union army.

During this time I was the guest of Col. Graham, of Mathias-Point
memory, who had brought over from that place (last November) some thirty
valuable chattels. A part of the camp was assigned to them. They built
log huts, and obtained from the soldiers many comforts, making their
quarters equal to any in the camp.

They had friends and relatives. Negroes feel as much sympathy for their
friends and kin as the whites; and, from November to the present time,
many a man in Virginia has lost a very likely slave, for the camp
contains now upwards of a hundred fat and healthy negroes, in addition
to its original number from Mathias Point.

One of the number deserves more honor than that accorded to Toussaint
L’Ouverture in the brilliant lecture delivered by Wendell Phillips. He
is unquestionably the hero of the Potomac, and deserves to be placed by
the side of his most renowned black brethren.

The name of this negro is James Lawson, born near Hempstead, Virginia,
and he belonged to a Mr. Taylor. He made his escape last December.
On hearing his praises spoken by the captains of the gunboats on the
Potomac, I was rather indisposed to admit the possession of all the
qualities they give him credit for, and thought possibly his exploits
had been exaggerated. His heroic courage, truthfulness, and exalted
Christian character seemed too romantic for their realization. However,
my doubts on that score were dispelled; and I am a witness of his last
crowning act.

Jim, after making his escape from Virginia, shipped on board of “The
Freeborn,” Flag-gunboat, Lieut. Samuel Ma-gaw commanding. He furnished
Capt. Magaw with much valuable intelligence concerning the rebel
movements, and, from his quiet, every-day behavior, soon won the esteem
of the commanding officer.

Capt. Magaw, shortly after Jim’s arrival on board “The Freeborn,” sent
him upon a scouting tour through the rebel fortifications, more to test
his reliability than anything else; and the mission, although fraught
with great danger, was executed by Jim in the most faithful manner.
Again Jim was sent into Virginia, landing at the White House,
below Mount Vernon, and going into the interior for several miles;
encountering the fire of picket-guards and posted sentries; returned in
safety to the shore; and was brought off in the captain’s gig, under the
fire of the rebel musketry.

Jim had a wife and four children at that time still in Virginia. They
belonged to the same man as Jim did. He was anxious to get them; yet it
seemed impossible.

One day in January, Jim came to the captain’s room, and asked for
permission to be landed that evening on the Virginia side, as he wished
to bring off his family. “Why, Jim,” said Capt. Magaw, “how will you be
able to pass the pickets?”

“I want to try, captain: I think I can get ‘em over safely,” meekly
replied Jim.

“Well, you have my permission;” and Capt. Magaw ordered one of the
gunboats to land Jim that night on whatever part of the shore he
designated, and return for him the following evening.

True to his appointment, Jim was at the spot with his wife and family,
and was taken on board the gunboat, and brought over to Liverpool Point,
where Col. Graham had given them a log-house to live in, just back of
his own quarters. Jim ran the gauntlet of the sentries unharmed, never
taking to the roads, but keeping in the woods, every foot-path of which,
and almost every tree, he knew from his boyhood up.

Several weeks afterwards another reconnoissance was planned, and Jim
sent on it. He returned in safety, and was highly complimented by Gens.
Hooker, Sickles, and the entire flotilla.

On Thursday, week ago, it became necessary to obtain correct information
of the enemy’s movements. Since then, batteries at Shipping and Cockpit
Points had been evacuated, and their troops moved to Fredericksburg.
Jim was the man picked out for the occasion, by Gen. Sickles and Capt.
Magaw. The general came down to Col. Graham’s quarters, about nine in
the evening, and sent for Jim. There were present, the general, Col.
Graham, and myself. Jim came into the colonel’s.

“Jim.” said the general, “I want you to go over to Virginia to-night,
and find out what forces they have at Aquia Creek and Fredericksburg. If
you want any men to accompany you, pick them out.”

“I know _two_ men that would like to go,” Jim answered.

“Well, get them, and be back as soon as possible.” Away went Jim over to
the contraband camp, and, returning almost immediately, brought into our
presence two very intelligent-looking darkies.

“Are you all ready?” inquired the general.

“All ready, sir,” the trio responded.

“Well, here, Jim, you take my pistol,” said Gen. Sickles, unbuckling it
from his belt; “and, if you are successful, I will give you $100.”

Jim hoped he would be, and, bidding us good-by, started off for the
gunboat “Satellite,” Capt. Foster, who landed them a short distance
below the Potomac-Creek Batteries. They were to return early in the
morning, but were unable, from the great distance they went in the
interior. Long before daylight on Saturday morning, the gunboat was
lying off at the appointed place. As the day dawned, Capt. Foster
discovered a mounted picket-guard near the beach, and almost at the same
instant saw Jim to the left of them, in the woods, sighting his gun at
the rebel cavalry. He ordered the “gig” to be manned, and rowed to the
shore. The rebels moved along slowly, thinking to intercept the boat,
when Foster gave them a shell, which scattered them. Jim, with only one
of his original companions, and two fresh contrabands, came on board.
Jim had _lost the other_. He had been challenged by a picket when some
distance in advance of Jim, and the negro, instead of answering the
summons, fired the contents of Sickles’s revolver at the picket. It
was an unfortunate occurrence; for at that time the entire picket-guard
rushed out of a small house near the spot, and fired the contents of
their muskets at Jim’s companion, killing him instantly. Jim and the
other three hid themselves in a hollow, near a fence, and, after the
pickets gave up pursuit, crept through the woods to the shore. From the
close proximity of the rebel pickets, Jim could not display a light,
which was the signal for Capt. Foster to send a boat.

Capt. Foster, after hearing Jim’s story of the shooting of his
companion, determined to avenge his death; so, steaming his vessel close
in to the shore, he sighted his guns for a barn, where the rebel cavalry
were hiding behind. He fired two shells: one went right through the
barn, killing four of the rebels, and seven of their horses. Capt.
Foster, seeing the effect of his shot, said to Jim, who stood by, “Well,
Jim, I’ve avenged the death of poor Cornelius” (the name of Jim’s lost
companion).

Gen. Hooker has transmitted to the War Department an account of Jim’s
reconnoissance to Fredericksburg, and unites with the army and navy
stationed on the left wing of the Potomac, in the hope that the
Government will present Jim with a fitting recompense for his gallant
services.--_War Correspondent of the New-York Times_.

On Thursday, beyond Charlestown, our pickets descried a solitary
horseman, with a bucket on his arm, jogging soberly towards them. He
proved to be a dark mulatto, of about thirty-five. As he approached,
they ordered a halt.

“Where are you from?”

“Southern Army, cap’n,” giving the military salute.

“Where are you going?”

“Coming to yous all.”

“What do you want?”

“Protection, boss. You won’t send me back, will you?”

“No, come in. Whose servant are you?”

“Cap’n Rhett’s, of South Carliny: you’s heard of Mr. Barnwell Rhett,
editor of ‘The Charleston Mercury’? His brother commands a battery.”

“How did you get away?”

“Cap’n gove me fifteen dollars this morning, and said,
‘John, go out, and forage for butter and eggs.’ So you see, boss (with a
broad grin), I’se out foraging! I pulled my hat over my eyes, and jogged
along on the cap’n’s horse (see the brand S.C. on him?) with this basket
on my arm, right by our guards and pickets. They never challenged me
once. If they had, though, I brought the cap’n’s pass. And the new
comer produced this document from his pocket-book, written in pencil,
and carefully folded. I send you the original:--

_“Pass my servant, John, on horseback, anywhere between Winchester and
Martinsburg, in search of butter, &c., &e._

_“A. BURNETT RHETT, Capt. Light Artillery, Lee’s Battalion.”_

“Are there many negroes in the rebel corps?”

“Heaps, boss.”

“Would the most of them come to us if they could?”

“All of them, cap’n. There isn’t a little pickanniny so high (waving his
hand two feet from the ground) that wouldn’t.”

“Why did _you_ expect protection?”

“Heard so in Maryland, before the Proclamation.”

“Where did you hear about the Proclamation?”

“Read it, air, in a Richmond paper.”

“What is it?”

“That every slave is to be emancipated on and after the thirteenth day
of January. I can’t state it, boss.”

“Something like it. When did you learn to read?”

“In ‘49, sir. I was head waiter at Mrs. Nevitt’s boarding-house in
Savannah, and Miss Walcott, a New-York lady, who was stopping there,
taught me.”

“Does your master know it?”

“Capt. Rhett doesn’t know it, sir; but he isn’t my master. He thinks I’m
free, and hired me at twenty five dollars a month; but he never paid
me any of it. I belong to Mrs. John Spring. She used to hire me out
summers, and have me wait on her every winter, when she came South.
After the war, she couldn’t come, and they were going to sell me for
Government because I belonged to a Northerner. Sold a great many negroes
in that way. But I slipped away to the army. Have tried to come to you
twice before in Maryland, but couldn’t pass our pickets.”

“Were you at Antietam?”

“Yes, boss. Mighty hard battle!”

“Who whipped?”

“Yous all, massa. They say you didn’t; but I saw it, and know. If you
had fought us that next day,--Thursday,--you would have captured our
whole army. They say so themselves.”

“Who?”

“Our officers, sir.”

“Did you ever hear of old John Brown?”

“Hear of _him?_ Lord bless you, yes, boss: I’ve read his life, and have
it now in my trunk in Charleston; sent to New York by the steward of
‘The James Adger,’ and got it. I’ve read it to heaps of the colored
folks. Lord, they think John Brown was almost a god. Just say you was a
friend of his, and any slave will almost kiss your feet, if you let
him. They sav, if he was only alive now, he would be king. How it did
frighten the white folks when he raised the insurrection! It was Sunday
when we heard of it. They wouldn’t let a negro go into the streets.
I was waiter at the Mills House in Charleston. There was a lady from
Massachusetts, who came down to breakfast that morning at my table.
‘John,’ she says, ‘I want to see a negro church; where is the principal
one?’ ‘Not any open to-day, mistress,’ I told her. ‘Why not?’ ‘Because a
Mr. John Brown has raised an insurrection in Virginny.’ ‘Ah!’ she says;
‘well, they’d better look out, or they’ll get the white churches shut
up in that way some of these days, too!’ Mr. Nicholson, one of the
proprietors, was listening from the office to hear what she said. Wasn’t
that lady watched after that? I have a History of San Domingo, too, and
a Life of Fred. Douglass, in my trunk, that I got in the same way.”

“What do the slaves think about the war?”

“Well, boss, they all wish the Yankee army would come. The white folks
tell them all sorts of bad stories about you all; but they don’t believe
them.”

John was taken to Gen. McClellan, to whom he gave all the information
he possessed about the position, numbers, and organization of the rebel
army. His knowledge was full and valuable, and is corroborated by all
the facts we have learned from other sources. The principal features of
it I have already transmitted to you by telegraph. At the close of the
interview, he asked anxiously,--

“General, you won’t send me back, will you?”

“Yes,” replied the general, with a smile, “I believe I will.”

“I hope you won’t, general. If you say so, I know I will have to go; but
I come to yous all for protection, and I hope you won’t.”

“Well, then, I suppose we will not. No, John, you are at liberty to go
where you please. Stay with the army, if you like. No one can ever take
you against your will.”

“May the Lord bless you, general. I _thought_ you wouldn’t drive me out.
You’s the best friend I ever had; I shall never forget you till I die.”
 And John made the salute, re-mounted his horse, and rode back to the
rear, his dusky face almost white with radiance.

An hour later, he was on duty as the servant of Capt. Batchelor,
Quartermaster of Couch’s Second Division; and I do not believe there
was another heart in our corps so light as his in the unwonted joy of
freedom.--_New York Tribune._



CHAPTER X--PROCLAMATIONS OF FREMONT AND HUNTER.


_Gen. Fremont’s Proclamation, and its Effect on the Public Mind.--Gen.
Hunter’s Proclamation; the Feeling it created._


While the country seemed drifting to destruction, and the
Administration without a policy, the heart of every loyal man was
made glad by the appearance of the proclamation of Major-Gen. John C.
Fremont, then in command at the West. The following extract from
that document, which at the time caused so much discussion, will bear
insertion here:--

“All persons who shall be taken with arms in their hands within these
lines shall be tried by court martial, and, if found guilty, will be
shot. The property, real and personal, of all persons in the State of
Missouri, who shall take up arms against the United States, or who shall
be directly proven to have taken active part with their enemies in
the field, is declared to be confiscated to the public use, and their
slaves, if any they have, are hereby declared free men.”

The above was the first official paper issued after the commencement of
the war, that appeared to have the ring of the right kind of mettle. But
while the public mind was being agitated upon its probable effect
upon the Rebellion, a gloom was thrown over the whole community by
the President’s removal of Gen. Fremont, and the annulling of the
proclamation. This act of Mr. Lincoln gave unintentional “aid and
comfort” to the enemy, and was another retrograde movement in the Way of
crushing out the Rebellion.

Gen. Fremont, before the arrival of the President’s letter, had given
freedom to a number of slaves, in accordance with his proclamation. His
mode of action may be seen in the following deed of manumission:--

“Whereas, Thomas L. Snead, of the city and county of St. Louis, State of
Missouri, has been taking an active part with the enemies of the United
States, in the present insurrectionary movement against the Government
of the United States; now, therefore, I, John Charles Fremont,
Major-General commanding the Western Department of the Army of the
United States, by authority of law, and the power vested in me as such
commanding general, declare Hiram Reed, heretofore held to service or
labor by Thomas L. Snead, to be free, and forever discharged from the
bonds of servitude, giving him full right and authority to have, use,
and control his own labor or service as to him may seem proper, without
any accountability whatever to said Thomas L. Snead, or any one to claim
by, through, or under him.

“And this deed of manumission shall be respected and treated by all
persons, and in all courts of justice, as the full and complete evidence
of the freedom of said Hiram Reed.

“In testimony whereof, this act is done at headquarters of the Western
Department of the Army of the United States, in the city of St. Louis,
State of Missouri, on this twelfth day of September, A.D. eighteen
hundred and sixty-one, as is evidenced by the Departmental Seal hereto
affixed by my order.

“J. C. FREMONT,

“_Major-General Commanding._”

“Done at the office of the Provost-Marshal, in the city of St. Louis,
the twelfth day of September, A.D. eighteen hundred and sixty-one, at
nine o’clock in the evening of said day.

“Witness my hand and seal of office-hereto affixed.

“J. McKINSTRY,

“_Brigadier-General, Provost-Marshal_.”

The agitation in the public mind on account of the proclamation and its
annulment, great as it was, was soon surpassed by one still more bold
and sweeping from Major-Gen. David Hunter, in the following language,
issued from his headquarters, at Hilton Head, S.C., on the 9th of
May:--

“Headquarters Department of the South, Hilton Head, S.C., May 9, 1802.

“General Orders, No. 11:

“The three States of Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina, comprising
the Military Department of the South, having deliberately declared
themselves no longer under the protection of the United States of
America, and having taken up arms against the said United States, it
became a military necessity to declare them under martial law. This was
accordingly done on the 25th day of April, 1862. Slavery and martial
law in a free country are altogether incompatible. The persons in these
three States, Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina, heretofore held as
slaves, are therefore declared forever free.

“DAVID HUNTER,

“_Major-General Commanding._

“[Official.]

“_Ed. W. Smith, Acting Assistant Adjutant-General._”

But, before Mr. Lincoln was officially informed of the issuing of the
above order, he made haste to annul it in the terms following:
“That neither Gen. Hunter nor any other commander or person has been
authorized by the Government of the United States to make proclamation
declaring the slaves of any State free; and that the supposed
proclamation now in question, whether genuine or false, is altogether
void, so far as respects such declaration.

“I further make known, that, whether it be competent for me, as
Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, to declare the slaves of any
State or States free, and whether at any time or in any case it
shall have become a necessity indispensable to the maintenance of the
Government to exercise such supposed power, are questions which,
under my responsibility, I reserve to myself, and which I cannot feel
justified in leaving to the decision of commanders in the field.”

These words of the President were hailed with cheers by the proslavery
press of the North, and carried comfort to the hearts of the rebels;
although the Chief-Magistrate did not intend either. However, before the
President’s proclamation reached Carolina, Gen. Hunter was furnishing
slaves with free papers, of which the succeeding is a copy:--


“DEED OF EMANCIPATION.

“It having been proven, to the entire satisfaction of the
general commanding the Department of the South, that the bearer,
named----------------, heretofore held in involuntary servitude, has
been directly employed to aid and assist those in rebellion against the
United States of America.

“Now, be it known to all, that, agreeably to the laws, I declare the
said person free, and forever absolved from all claims to his services.
Both he and his wife and children have full right to go North, East, or
West, as they may decide.

“Given under my hand, at the Headquarters of the Department of the
South, this nineteenth day of April, 1862.

“D. HUNTER,

“_Major-General Commanding._”

The words, “forever free,” sounded like a charm upon the ears of the
oppressed, and seemed to give hopes of a policy that would put down the
Rebellion, and leave the people untrammelled with slavery.

               “God’s law of compensation worketh sure,

               So we may know the right shall aye endure!

               ‘_Forever free!_’ God! how the pulse doth bound

               At the high, glorious, Heaven-prompted sound

               That greets our ears from Carolina’s shore!

               ‘_Forever free!_’ and slavery is no more!

               Ere time the hunter followed up the slave;

               But now a Hunter, noble, true, and brave,

               Proclaims the right, to each who draws a breath,

               To lift himself from out a living death,

               And plant his feet on Freedom’s happy soil,

               Content to take her wages for his toil,

               And look to God, the author of his days,

               For food and raiment, sounding forth His praise.”

Deep indeed was the impression left upon the public mind by the orders
of both Fremont and Hunter; and they hastened the policy which the
President eventually adopted, to the great gratification of the friends
of freedom everywhere.



CHAPTER XI--HEROISM OF NEGROES ON THE HIGH SEAS.


_Heroism of Negroes.--William Tillman re-captures “The S. G.
Waring.”--George Green.--Robert Small captures the Steamer
“Planter.”--Admiral Dupont’s Opinion on Negro Patriotism._


In the month of June, 1861, the schooner “S. J. Waring,” from New
York, bound to South America, was captured on the passage by the rebel
privateer “Jeff. Davis,” a prize-crew put on board, consisting of a
captain, mate, and four seamen; and the vessel set sail for the port of
Charleston, S.C. Three of the original crew were retained on board,
a German as steersman, a Yankee who was put in irons, and a black man
named William Tillman, the steward and cook of the schooner. The latter
was put to work at his usual business, and told that he was henceforth
the property of the Confederate States, and would be sold, on his
arrival at Charleston, as a slave. Night comes on; darkness covers the
sea; the vessel is gliding swiftly towards the South; the rebels, one
after another, retire to their berths; the hour of midnight approaches;
all is silent in the cabin; the captain is asleep; the mate, who has
charge of the watch, takes his brandy toddy, and reclines upon the
quarter-deck. The negro thinks of home and all its endearments: he sees
in the dim future chains and slavery.

He resolves, and determines to put the resolution into practice upon the
instant. Armed with a heavy club, he proceeds to the captain’s’room. He
strikes ‘the fatal blow: he feels the pulse, and all is still. He next
goes to the adjoining room: another blow is struck, and the black man
is master of the cabin. Cautiously he ascends to the deck, strikes the
mate: the officer is wounded but not killed. He draws his revolver, and
calls for help. The crew are aroused: they are hastening to aid their
commander. The negro repeats his blows with the heavy club: the rebel
falls dead at Tillman’s feet. The African seizes the revolver, drives
the crew below deck, orders the release of the Yankee, puts the enemy in
irons, and proclaims himself master of the vessel.

“The Waring’s” head is turned towards New York, with the stars and
stripes flying, a fair wind, and she rapidly retraces her steps. A
storm comes up: more men are needed to work the ship. Tillman orders the
rebels to be unchained, and brought on deck. The command is obeyed; and
they are put to work, but informed, that, if they show any disobedience,
they will be shot down. Five days more, and “The S. J. Waring” arrives
in the port of New York, under the command of William Tillman, the negro
patriot.

“The New-York Tribune” said of this event,--

“To this colored man was the nation indebted for the first vindication
of its honor on the sea.” Another public journal spoke of that
achievement alone as an offset to the defeat of the Federal arms at
Bull Run. Unstinted praise from all parties, even those who are usually
awkward in any other vernacular than derision of the colored man, has
been awarded to this colored man. At Barnum’s Museum he was the centre
of attractive gaze to daily increasing thousands. Pictorials vied with
each other in portraying his features, and in graphic delineations of
the scene on board the brig; while, in one of them, Tillman has been
sketched as an embodiment of black action on the sea, in contrast with
some delinquent Federal officer as white inaction on land.

The Federal Government awarded to Tillman the sum of six thousand
dollars as prize-money for the capture of the schooner. All loyal
journals joined in praise of the heroic act; and, even when the news
reached England, the negro’s bravery was applauded. A few weeks later,
and the same rebel privateer captured the schooner “Enchantress,” bound
from Boston to St. Jago, while off Nantucket Shoals. A prize-crew was
put on board, and, as in the case of “The Waring,” retaining the colored
steward; and the vessel set sail for a Southern port. When off Cape
Hatteras, she was overtaken by the Federal gunboat “Albatross,” Capt.
Prentice.

On speaking her, and demanding where from and whence bound, she replied,
“Boston, for St. Jago.” At this moment the negro rushed from the
galley, where the pirates had secreted him, _and jumped into the sea_,
exclaiming, “They are a privateer crew from The ‘Jeff. Davis,’ and
bound for Charleston!” The negro was picked up, and taken on board “The
Albatross.” The prize was ordered to heave to, which she did. Lieut.
Neville jumped aboard of her, and ordered the pirates into the boats,
and to pull for “The Albatross,” where they were secured in irons. “The
Enchantress” was then taken in tow by “The Albatross,” and arrived
in Hampton Loads. On the morning of the 13th of May, 1862, the rebel
gunboat “Planter” was captured by her colored crew, while lying in the
port of Charleston, S.C., and brought out, and delivered over to our
squadron then blockading the place. The following is the dispatch from
Com. Dupont to the Secretary of War, announcing the fact:--

“U. S. Steamship Augusta, off Charleston, May 13, 1862.

“Sir,--I have the honor to inform you that the rebel armed gunboat
‘Planter’ was brought out to us this morning from Charleston by eight
contrabands, and delivered up to the squadron. Five colored women
and three children are also on board. She was the armed despatch
and transportation steamer attached to the engineer department at
Charleston, under Brig.-Gen. Ripley. At four in the morning, in the
absence of the captain who was on shore, she left her wharf close to the
government office and head-quarters, with the Palmetto and confederate
flags flying, and passed the successive forts, saluting as usual, by
blowing the steam-whistle. After getting beyond the range of the last
gun, they hauled down the rebel flags, and hoisted a white one. ‘The
Onward’ was the inside ship of the blockading squadron in the main
channel, and was preparing to fire when her commander made out the white
flag.

“The armament of the steamer is a thirty-two pounder, on pivot, and a
fine twenty-four-pound howitzer. She has, besides, on her deck, four
other guns, one seven-inch, rifled, which were to be taken on the
following morning to a new fort on the middle ground. One of the four
belonged! to Fort Sumter, and had been struck, in the rebel attack, on
the muzzle. Robert Small, the intelligent slave; and pilot of the boat,
who performed this bold feat so skilfully, is a superior man to any who
have come into our lines; intelligent as many of them have been. His in
formation: has been most interesting, and portions of it of the utmost
importance. The steamer is quite a valuable acquisition to the squadron
by her good machinery and very light draught. The bringing out of this
steamer would have done credit to any one. I do not know whether, in the
view of the Government, the vessel will be considered a prize; but, if
so, I respectfully submit to the Department the claims of the man Small
and his associates. Very respectfully, Your obedient servant,

“S. F. DUPONT,

“_Flag-Officer Commanding._”

The New-York “Commercial Advertiser” said of the capture, “We are forced
to confess that this is a heroic act, and that the negroes deserve great
praise. Small is a middle-aged negro, and his features betray nothing of
the firmness of character he displayed. He is said to be one of the most
skilful pilots of Charleston, and to have a thorough knowledge of all
the ports and inlets of South Carolina.”

A bill was introduced in Congress to give the prize to Robert Small and
his companions; and, while it was under consideration, the “New-York
Tribune” made the following timely remarks: “If we must still remember
with humiliation that the Confederate flag yet waves where our national
colors were struck, we should be all the more prompt to recognize the
merit that has put in our possession the first trophy from Fort Sumter.
And the country should feel doubly humbled if there is not magnanimity
enough to acknowledge a gallant action, because it was the head of a
black man that conceived, and the hand of a black man that executed it.
It would better, indeed, become us to remember that no small share of
the naval glory of the war belongs to the race which we have forbidden
to fight for us; that one negro has captured a vessel from a Southern
privateer, and another has brought away from under the very guns of the
enemy, where no fleet of ours has yet dared to venture, a prize whose
possession a commodore thinks worthy to be announced in a special
despatch.” The bill was taken up, passed both branches of Congress,
and Robert Small, together with his associates, received justice at the
hands of the American Government.

The “New-York Herald” gave the following account of the capture:--

“One of the most daring and heroic adventures since the war commenced
was undertaken and successfully accomplished by a party of negroes in
Charleston on Monday night last. Nine colored men, comprising the pilot,
engineers, and crew of the rebel gunboat ‘Planter,’ took the vessel
under their exclusive control, passed the batteries and forts in
Charleston Harbor, hoisted the white flag, ran out to the blockading
squadron, and thence to Port Royal, _via_ St. Helena Sound and Broad
River, reaching the flagship ‘Wabash’ shortly after ten o’clock last
evening.

“‘The Planter’ is just such a vessel as is needed to navigate the
shallow waters between Hilton Head and the adjacent islands, and will
prove almost invaluable to the Government. It is proposed, I hear, by
the commodore, to recommend the appropriation of $20,000 as a reward to
the plucky Africans who have distinguished themselves by this gallant
service, $5,000 to be given to the pilot, and the remainder to be
divided among his companions.

“‘The Planter’ is a high-pressure, side-wheel steamer, one hundred and
forty feet in length, and about fifty feet beam, and draws about five
feet of water. She was built in Charleston, was formerly used as a
cotton boat, and is capable of carrying about 1,400 bales. On the
organization of the Confederate navy, she was transformed into a
gunboat, and was the most valuable war-vessel the Confederates had at
Charleston. Her armament consisted of one thirty-two-pound rifle-gun
forward, and a twenty-four-pound howitzer aft. Besides, she had on
board, when she came into the harbor, one seven-inch rifle-gun, one
eight-inch columbiad, one eight-inch howitzer, one long thirty-two
pounder, and about two hundred rounds of ammunition, which had been
consigned to Fort Ripley, and which would have been delivered at that
fortification on Tuesday had not the designs of the rebel authorities
been frustrated. She was commanded by Capt. Relay, of the Confederate
Navy, all the other employees of the vessel, excepting the first and
second mates, being persons of color.

“Robert Small, with whom I had a brief interview at Gen. Benham’s
headquarters this morning, is an intelligent negro, born in Charleston,
and employed for many years as a pilot in and about that harbor. He
entered upon his duties on board ‘The Planter’ some six weeks since,
and, as he told me, adopted the idea of running the vessel to sea from
a joke which one of his companions perpetrated. He immediately cautioned
the crew against alluding to the matter in any way on board the boat;
but asked them, if they wanted to talk it up in sober earnestness, to
meet at his house, where they would devise and determine upon a plan to
place themselves under the protection of the Stars and Stripes, instead
of the stars and bars. Various plans were proposed; but finally the
whole arrangement of the escape was left to the discretion and sagacity
of Robert, his companions promising to obey him, and be ready at a
moment’s notice to accompany him. For three days he kept the provisions
of the party secreted in the hold, awaiting an opportunity to slip away.
At length, on Monday evening, the white officers of the vessel went on
shore to spend the night, Intending to start on the following morning
for Fort Ripley, and to be absent from the city for some days. The
families of the contrabands were notified, and came stealthily on board.
At about three o’clock, the fires were lit under the boilers, and the
vessel steamed quietly away down the harbor. The tide was against her,
and Fort Sumter was not reached till broad daylight. However, the boat
passed directly under its walls, giving the usual signal--two long pulls
and a jerk at the whistle-cord--as she passed the sentinel.

“Once out of range of the rebel guns, the white flag was raised, and
‘The Planter’ steamed directly for the blockading steamer ‘Augusta.’
Capt. Parrott, of the latter vessel, as you may imagine, received them
cordially, heard their report, placed Acting-Master Watson, of his ship,
in charge of ‘The Planter,’ and sent the Confederate gunboat and crew
forward to Commodore Dupont.”



CHAPTER XII--GENERAL BUTLER AT NEW ORLEANS.


_Recognition of Negro Soldiers with Officers of their own
Color.--Society in New Orleans.--The Inhuman Master.--Justice.--Change
of Opinion.--The Free Colored Population._


When Major-Gen. Butler found himself in possession of New Orleans, he
was soon satisfied of the fact that there were but few loyalists amongst
the whites, while the Union feeling of the colored people was apparent
from the hour of his landing; they having immediately called upon the
commander, and, through a committee, offered their services in behalf
of the Federal cause. Their offer was accepted, as the following will
show:--

“Headquarters Department of the Gulf, New Orleans, Aug. 22, 1862.

“General Order, No. 63:

“Whereas, on the twenty-third day of April, in the year eighteen hundred
and sixty-one, at a public meeting of the free colored population of
the city of New Orleans, a military organization, known as the ‘Native
Guards’ (colored), had its existence, which military organization was
duly and legally enrolled as a part of the military of the State, its
officers being commissioned by Thomas O. Moore, Governor, and Commander-
in-Chief of the Militia, of the State of Louisiana, in the form
following, that is to say:--

“‘The State of Louisiana.

[Seal of the State.]

“‘By Thomas Overton Moore, Governor of the State of Louisiana, and
Commander-in-Chief of the Militia thereof.

“‘In the name and by the authority of the State of Louisiana:

“‘Know ye that----------------, having been duly and legally elected
Captain of the “Native Guards” (colored), First Division of the Militia
of Louisiana, to serve for the term of the war,

“I do hereby appoint and commission him Captain as aforesaid, to take
rank as such, from the second day of May, 1861.

“‘He is, therefore, carefully and diligently to discharge the duties
of his office, by doing and performing all manner of things thereto
belonging. And I do strictly charge and require all officers,
non-commissioned officers, and privates under his command to be obedient
to his orders as Captain; and he is to observe and follow such orders
and directions, from time to time, as he shall receive from me, or the
future Governor of the State of Louisiana, or other superior officers,
according to the Rules and Articles of War, and in conformity to law.

“‘In testimony whereof, I have caused these letters to be made patent,
and the seal of the State to be hereunto annexed.

“‘Given under my hand, at the city of Baton Rouge, on the second day of
May, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two.

“‘(Signed)

“‘THOMAS O. MOORE.

“‘By the Governor.

“‘P. D. HARDY, _Secretary of State_.”

[INDORSED.]

“‘I, Maurice Grivot, Adjutant and Inspector-General of the State of
Louisiana, do hereby certify that----------------, named in the within
commission, did, on the twenty-second day of May, in the year 1861,
deposit In my office his written acceptance of the office to which he is
commissioned, and his oath of office taken according to law.

“‘M. GRIVOT’”_Adjutant and Inspector-General La_.’

“And whereas such military organization elicited praise and respect, and
was complimented in general orders for its patriotism and loyalty, and
was ordered to continue during the war, in the words following:--

“‘Headquarters Louisiana Militia,

“‘Adjutant-General’s Office, Mardi 24, 1862.

“‘Order No. 426:

“‘I, The Governor and Commander-in-Chief, relying implicitly upon the
loyalty of the free colored population of the city and State, for the
protection of their homes, their property, and for Southern rights, from
the pollution of a ruthless invader, and believing that the military
organization which existed prior to the 15th February, 1862, and
elicited praise and respect for the patriotic motives which prompted it,
should exist for and during the war, calls upon them to maintain their
organization, and hold themselves prepared for such orders as may be
transmitted to them.

“‘II. The colonel commanding will report without delay to Major-Gen.
Lewis, commanding State Militia.

“’ By order of

“‘THOS. O. MOORE, _Governor_.

“‘31. GRIVOT, _Adjutant-General_.’

“And whereas said military organization, by the same order, was directed
to report to Major-Gen. Lewis for service, but did not leave the city of
New Orleans when he did:

“Now, therefore, the commanding-general, believing that a large portion
of this military force of the State of Louisiana are willing to take
service in the volunteer forces of the United States, and be enrolled
and organized to ‘defend their homes from ruthless invaders;’ to protect
their wives and children and kindred from wrongs and outrages; to shield
their property from being seized by bad men; and to defend the flag of
their native country as their fathers did under Jackson at Chalmette
against Packingham and his myrmidons, carrying the black flag of ‘beauty
and booty’.

“Appreciating their motives, relying upon their ‘well-known loyalty and
patriotism,’ and with ‘praise and respect’ for these brave men, it is
ordered that all the members of the ‘Native Guards’ aforesaid, and all
other free colored citizens recognized by the first and late governor
and authorities of the State of Louisiana as a portion of the militia
of the State, who shall enlist in the volunteer service of the United
States, shall be duly organized by the appointment of proper officers,
and accepted, paid, equipped, armed, and rationed as are other volunteer
corps of the United States, subject to the approval of the President of
the United States. All such persons are required to report themselves
at the Touro Charity Building, Front Levee Street, New Orleans, where
proper officers will muster them into the service of the United States.

“By command of

“R. S. DAVIS, _Captain and A.A.A.G._

“_Major-Gen. BUTLER_.”

The commanding general soon discovered that he was amongst a different
people from those with whom he had been accustomed to associate. New
Orleans, however, though captured was not subdued. The city had been for
years the headquarters and focus of all Southern rowdyism. An immense
crowd of “loafers,” many without regular occupation or means, infested
the streets, controlled the ballot-boxes, nominated the judges, selected
the police, and affected to rule every one except a few immensely
wealthy planters, who governed them by money. These rowdies had
gradually dissolved society, till New Orleans had become the most
blood-thirsty city in the world; a city where every man went armed,
where a sharp word was invariably answered by a stab, and where the
average of murdered men taken to one hospital was three a day. The mob
were bitter advocates of slavery, held all Yankees in abhorrence, and
guided by the astute brain of Pierre Soulé, whilom ambassador to Spain,
resolved to contest with Gen. Butler the right to control the city. They
might as well have contested it with Bonaparte. The first order issued
by the general indicated a policy from which he never swerved. The
mob had surrounded the St. Charles Hotel, threatening an attack on the
building, then the general’s headquarters; and Gen. Williams, commanding
the troops round it, reported that he would be unable to control the
mob. “Gen. Butler, in his serenest manner, replied, ‘Give my compliments
to Gen. Williams, and tell him, if he finds he cannot control the mob,
to open upon them with artillery.’” The mob did that day endeavor
to seize Judge Summers, the Recorder; and he was only saved by the
determined courage of Lieut. Kinsman, in command of an armed party. From
this moment the general assumed the attitude he never abandoned, that of
master of New Orleans, making his own will the law. He at first retained
the municipal organization; but, finding the officials incurably
hostile, he sent them to Fort Lafayette, and thenceforward ruled alone,
feeding the people, re-establishing trade, maintaining public order, and
seeing that negroes obtained some reasonable measure of security. Their
evidence was admitted, “Louisiana having, when she went out of the
Union, taken her black code with her;” the whipping-house was abolished,
and all forms of torture sternly prohibited.

The following interesting narrative, given by a correspondent of “The
Atlantic Monthly,” will show, to some extent, the scenes which Gen.
Butler had to pass through in connection with slavery:--

“One Sunday morning, late last summer, as I came down to the
breakfast-room, I was surprised to find a large number of persons
assembled in the library.

“When I reached the door, a member of the staff took me by the arm, and
drew me into a room toward a young and delicate mulatto girl, who was
standing against the opposite wall, with the meek, patient bearing of
her race, so expressive of the system of repression to which they have
been so long subjected.

“Drawing down the border of her dress, my conductor showed me a sight
more revolting than I trust ever again to behold.

“The poor girl’s back was flayed until the quivering flesh resembled
a fresh beefsteak scorched on a gridiron. With a cold chill creeping
through my veins, I turned away from the sickening spectacle, and, for
an explanation of the affair, scanned the various persons about the
room.

“In the centre of the group, at his writing-table, sat the general. His
head rested on his hand, and he was evidently endeavoring to fix his
attention upon the remarks of a tall, swarthy-looking man who stood
opposite, and who, I soon discovered, was the owner of the girl, and
was attempting a defence of the foul outrage he had committed upon the
unresisting and helpless person of his unfortunate victim, who stood
smarting, but silent, under the dreadful pain inflicted by the brutal
lash.

“By the side of the slave-holder stood our adjutant-general, his face
livid with almost irrepressible rage, and his fists tight clenched, as
if to violently restrain himself from visiting the guilty wretch with
summary and retributive justice. Disposed about the room, in various
attitudes, but all exhibiting in their countenances the same mingling of
horror and indignation, were other members of the staff; while near the
door stood three or four house-servants, who were witnesses in the case.

“To the charge of having administered the inhuman castigation, Landry
(the owner of the girl) pleaded guilty, but urged, in extenuation,
that the girl had dared to make an effort for that freedom which her
instincts, drawn from the veins of her abuser, had taught her was the
God-given right of all who possess the germ of immortality, no matter
what the color of the casket in which it is hidden.

“I say ‘drawn from the veins of her abuser,’ because she declared she
was his daughter; and everyone in the room, looking upon the man and
woman confronting each other, confessed that the resemblance justified
the assertion.

“At the conclusion of all the evidence in the case, the general
continued in the same position as before, and remained for some time
apparently lost in abstraction. I shall never forget the singular
expression on his face.

“I had been accustomed to see him in a storm of passion at any instance
of oppression or flagrant injustice; but, on this occasion, he was too
deeply affected to obtain relief in the usual way.

“His whole air was one of dejection, almost listlessness; his
indignation too intense, and his anger too stern, to find expression,
even in his countenance. After sitting in the mood which I have
described at such length, the general again turned to the prisoner, and
said, in a quiet, subdued tone of voice,--

“‘Mr. Landry, I dare not trust myself to decide to-day what punishment
would be meet for your offence; for I am in that state of mind that I
fear I might exceed the strict demands of justice. I shall therefore
place you under guard for the present, until I conclude upon your
sentence.’

“A few days after, a number of influential citizens having represented
to the general that Mr. Landry was not only a ‘high-toned gentleman,’
but a person of unusual ‘amiability’ of character, and was consequently
entitled to no small degree of leniency, he answered, that, in
consideration of the prisoner’s ‘high-toned’ character, and especially
of his ‘amiability,’ of which he had seen so remarkable a proof, he had
determined to meet their views; and therefore ordered that Landry give a
deed of manumission to the girl, and pay a fine of five hundred dollars,
to be placed in the hands of a trustee for her benefit.”

It was scenes like the above that changed Gen. Butler’s views upon the
question of slavery; for it cannot be denied, that, during the first
few weeks of his command in New Orleans, he had a controversy with Gen.
Phelps, owing to the latter’s real antislavery feelings. Soon after his
arrival, Gen. Butler gave orders that all negroes not needed for service
should be removed from the camps. The city was sealed against their
escape. Even secession masters were assured that their property, if not
employed, should be returned. It is said that pledges of reimbursement
for loss of labor were made to such. Gen. Phelps planted himself on the
side of the slave; would not exile them from his camp; branded as cruel
the policy that harbored, and then drove out the slave to the inhuman
revenge that awaited him.

Yet the latter part of Gen. Butler’s reign compensated for his earlier
faults. It must be remembered, that, when he landed in New Orleans, he
was fresh from Washington, where the jails were filled with fugitive
slaves, awaiting the claim of their masters; where the return of the
escaped bondman was considered a military duty. Then how could he be
expected to do better? The stream cannot rise higher than the spring.

His removal from the Department of the Gulf, on account of the crushing
blows which he gave the “peculiar institution,” at once endeared him to
the hearts of the friends of impartial freedom throughout the land.

The following imitation of Leigh Hunt’s celebrated poem is not out of
place here:--


“ABOU BEN BUTLER.”

               “Abou Ben Butler (may his tribe increase! )

               Awoke one night down by the old Balize,

               And saw, outside the comfort of his room,

               Making it warmer for the gathering gloom,

               A black man, shivering in the Winter’s cold.

               Exceeding courage made Ben Butler bold;

               And to the presence in the dark lie said,

               “What wantest thou?” The figure raised its head,

               And, with a look made of all sad accord,

               Answered, “The men who’ll serve the purpose of the Lord.”

               “And am I one?” said Butler. “Nay, not so,”

               Replied the black man. Butler spoke more low,

               But cheerly still, and said, “As _I am Ben_,

               You’ll not have cause to tell me that again!”

               The figure bowed and vanished. The next night

               It came once more, environed strong in light,

               And showed the names whom love of Freedom blessed;

               And, lo! Ben Butler’s name led all the rest.”

                        --_Boston Transcript._

It is probably well known that the free colored population of New
Orleans, in intelligence, public spirit, and material wealth, surpass
those of the same class in any other city of the Union. Many of these
gentlemen have been highly educated, have travelled extensively in this
and foreign countries, speak and read the French, Spanish, and English
languages fluently, and in the Exchange Rooms, or at the Stock Boards,
wield an influence at anytime fully equal to the same number of white
capitalists. Before the war, they represented in that city alone fifteen
millions of property, and were heavily taxed to support the schools of
the State, but were not allowed to claim the least benefit therefrom.

These gentlemen, representing so much intelligence, culture, and wealth,
and who would, notwithstanding the fact that they all have negro blood
in their veins, adorn any circle of society in the North, who would be
taken upon Broadway for educated and wealthy Cuban planters, rather than
free negroes, although many of them have themselves held slaves, have
always been loyal to the Union; and, when New Orleans seemed in danger
of being re-captured by the rebels under Gen. Magruder, these colored
men rose _en masse_, closed their offices and stores, armed and
organized themselves into six regiments, and for six weeks abandoned
their business, and stood ready to fight for the defence of New Orleans,
while, at the same time, not a single white regiment from the original
white inhabitants was raised.



CHAPTER XIII--THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA FREE.


_Emancipation in the District.--Comments of the Press.--The Good
Result.--Recognition of Hayti and Liberia.--The Slave-trader Gordon._


For many years previous to the Rebellion, efforts had been made to
induce Congress to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, without
success. The “negro-pens” which adorned that portion of the national
domain had long made Americans feel ashamed of the capital of their
country; because it was well known that those pens were more or less
connected with the American slave-trade, which, in its cruelty, was as
bad as that of the African slave-trade, if not worse. It was expected,
even by the democracy, that one of the first acts of the Republicans
on coming into office would be the emancipation of the slaves of the
District; and therefore no one was surprised at its being brought
forward in the earliest part of Mr. Lincoln’s administration. The bill
was introduced into the Senate by Hon. Henry Wilson of Massachusetts.
Its discussion caused considerable excitement among slave-holders,
who used every means to prevent its passage. Nevertheless, after going
through the Senate, it passed the House on the 11th of April, 1862, by
a large majority, and soon received the sanction of the President. The
Copperhead press howled over the doings of Congress, and appeared to
see the fate of the institution in this act. The “Louisville Journal”
 said,--

“The President, contrary to our most earnest hopes, has approved the
bill for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia.

“We need hardly say that the President’s reasons for approving the
bill are not, in our opinion, such as should have governed him at this
extraordinary juncture of the national history. They are not to us
sufficient reasons. On the contrary, we think they weigh as nothing
compared with the grave reasons in the opposite scale.

“The enemies of the country will no doubt attempt so to use the act by
representing it as the first step towards the abolition of slavery
in the States; but this representation, if made, will be a very gross
misrepresentation. The Republicans, as a body, our readers know full
well, always declared that Congress had the constitutional power to
abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, and that Congress ought to
exercise the power. They, however, have always declared, with the same
unanimity, that Congress does not possess the constitutional power
to interfere with slavery in the States. And they now declare so with
especial distinctness and solemnity.

“We, of course, except from the scope of the remarks we have now made
such abolitionists as Sumner and his scattered followers in Congress.
With the exception of these few _raving zealots, of whom most
Republicans are heartily ashamed,_ the men who voted to abolish slavery
in the District of Columbia avow themselves as resolutely opposed to
interfering with slavery in the States as the men who voted against the
measure are known to be. Their avowals are distinct and emphatic.

“We hope that the majority in Congress are at length through with
such tricks, and will henceforth leave in peace the myrtle of party
eye-sores, while they split the oak of the Rebellion.”

However, the predictions and hopes of the “Journal” were not to
avail any thing for the slavemongers. The Rebellion had sounded the
death-knell of the crime of crimes. Too many brave men had already
fallen by the hands of the upholders of the barbarous system to have it
stop there. The God of liberty had proclaimed that--

               “In this, the District where my Temple stands,

               I burst indignant every captive’s bands;

               Here in my home my glorious work begin;

               Then blush no more each day to see this sin.

               Thus finding room to freely breathe and stand,

               I’ll stretch my sceptre over all the land,

               Until, unfettered, leaps the waiting slave,

               And echoes back the blessings of the brave.”

The “Press,” Forney’s paper, spoke thus, a few days after slavery had
died in the District:--

“The emancipation of slaves in the District of Columbia was one of
the most suggestive events of the age. It was an example and an
illustration. The great idea of the past century, the idea which had
associated and identified itself with our institutions, was at last
tried by a practical test. Good results came from it; none of the evils
dreaded and prophesied have been manifested. It was a simple measure
of legislative policy, and was established amid great opposition and
feeling. Yet it was succeeded by no agitation, no outbreaks of popular
prejudice. The District of Columbia is now a free Territory by the
easy operation of a statute law,--by what enemies of the measure called
forcible emancipation; and yet the District of Columbia is as pleasant
and as prosperous as at any period of its history. There has been no
negro saturnalia, no violent outbreak of social disorder, no attempt
to invade those barriers of social distinction that must forever exist
between the African and Anglo-Saxon [?]. It was said that property would
depreciate; that there would be excesses and violences; that the negro
would become insolent and unbearable; that the city of Washington would
become a desolated metropolis; that negro labor would become valueless;
that hundreds of the emancipated negroes would flock to the Northern
States. We have seen no such results as yet; we know that nothing of the
kind is anticipated. We have yet to hear of the first emancipated negro
coming to Philadelphia. Labor moves on in its accustomed way, with the
usual supply and demand. We do not think a white woman has been insulted
by an emancipated negro; we are confident that no emancipated negro has
sought the hand of any fair damsel of marriageable age and condition.

“Society is the same in Maryland and Kentucky. In accomplishing
emancipation in the District of Columbia, we have shown the timid
that their fears were but of the imagination, the mere prejudices of
education. Slavery has been the cancer of the Southern social system.
We employ an old metaphor, perhaps, but it is a forcible and appropriate
illustration. It rooted itself into the body of Southern society,
attacking the glands, terminating in an ill-conditioned and deep
disease, and causing the republic excruciating pain. It became schirrous
and indurated. It brought disaster and grief upon them, and the sorest
of evils upon us. It brought us blood and civil war, ruined commerce and
desolated fields, blockaded ports, and rivers that swarm with gunboats
instead of merchant vessels. It was tolerated as a necessary evil, until
its extent and virulence made it incumbent upon us to terminate it as
such, or to be terminated by it. The champions of this institution, not
content with submitting to the toleration and protection of our great
Northern free community, have made it the pretext for aggression and
insult, and by their own acts are accomplishing its downfall. The
emancipation of slavery in the District of Columbia was the necessary
and natural result of the Southern Rebellion. It is but the beginning of
the results the Rebellion must surely bring. The wedge has only entered
the log, and heavy blows are falling upon it day by day.”

Great was the rejoicing in Washington and throughout the Free States;
for every one saw “the end from the beginning.” Our own Whittier strung
his harp anew, and sung,--

               “I knew that truth would crush the lie,--

                   Somehow, sometime the end would be;

               Yet scarcely dared I hope to see

               The triumph with my mortal eye.


               But now I see it. In the sun

                   A free flag floats from yonder dome,

                   And at the nation’s hearth and home

               The justice long delayed is done.”

With the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, commenced a
new era at our country’s capital. The representatives of the Governments
of Hayti and Liberia had both long knocked in vain to be admitted
with the representatives of other nations. The slave power had always
succeeded in keeping them out. But a change had now come over the dreams
of the people, and Congress was but acting up to this new light in
passing the following bill:--

“_Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United
States of America in Congress assembled_, That the President of the
United States be, and he hereby is, authorized, by and with the consent
of the Senate, to appoint diplomatic representatives of the United
States to the republics of Hayti and Liberia, respectively. Each of the
said representatives so appointed shall be accredited as commissioner
and consul general, and shall receive, out of any money in the treasury
not otherwise appropriated, the compensation of commissioners provided
for by the Act of Congress approved August 18, 1856: _Provided_ that the
compensation of the representative at Liberia shall not exceed $4,000.”

The above bill was before the Senate some time, and elicited much
discussion, and an able speech was made by Hon. Charles Sumner in favor
of the recognition of the independence of Hayti and Liberia. To use his
own expressive words, “Slavery in the national capital is now abolished:
it remains that this other triumph shall be achieved. Nothing but the
sway of a slave-holding despotism on the floor of Congress, hitherto,
has prevented the adoption of this righteous measure; and now that that
despotism has been exorcised, no time should be lost by Congress to see
it carried into immediate execution. All other civilized nations have
ceased to make complexion a badge of superiority or inferiority in the
matter of nationality; and we should make haste, therefore, to repair
the injury we have done, as a republic, in refusing to recognize
Liberian and Haytian independence.”

Even after all that had passed, the African slave-trade was still being
carried on between the Southern States and Africa. Ships were fitted out
in Northern ports for the purpose of carrying on this infernal traffic.
And, although it was prohibited by an act of Congress, none had ever
been convicted for dealing in slaves. The new order of things was to
give these traffickers a trial, and test the power by which they had
so long dealt in the bodies and souls of men whom they had stolen from
their native land. One Nathaniel Gordon was already in prison in New
York, and his trial was fast approaching: it came, and he was convicted
of piracy in the United States District Court in the city of New York;
the piracy consisting in having fitted out a slaver, and shipped nine
hundred Africans at Congo River, with a view to selling them as slaves.
The same man had been tried for the same offence before; but the jury
failed to agree, and he accordingly escaped punishment for the time.
Every effort was made which the ingenuity of able lawyers could invent,
or the power of money could enforce, to save this miscreant from the
gallows; but all in vain: for President Lincoln utterly refused to
interfere in any way whatever, and Gordon was executed on the 7th of
February.

This blow appeared to give more offence to the commercial Copperheads
than even the emancipation of the slaves in the District of Columbia;
for it struck an effectual blow at a very lucrative branch of commerce,
in which the New Yorkers were largely interested. Thus it will be seen
that the nation was steadily moving on to the goal of freedom.



CHAPTER XIV--THE BLACK BRIGADE OF CINCINNATI.


_The Great Fright.--Cruel Treatment of the Colored People by the Police.
--Bill Homer and his Roughs.--Military Training.--Col. Dickson.--The
Work.--Mustering Out.--The Thanks._


Hatred to the negro is characteristic of the people of Cincinnati; more
so, probably, than any other city in the West. Mobs in which the colored
citizens have been the victims have more than once occurred in that
place, to the utter disgrace of its white inhabitants,--mobs resulting
often in the loss of life, and always in the destruction of property.
The raid of John Morgan in the month of July, 1862, and, soon after, the
defeat of the Union troops in Kentucky, had given warning of impending
danger. This feeling of fear culminated on the first of September, in
the mayor of Cincinnati calling on the people to organize and prepare
for the defence of the city, in the following proclamation:--

“Mayor’s Office, _City of Cincinnati_.

“In accordance with a resolution passed by the City Council of
Cincinnati on the first instant, I hereby request that all business of
every kind or character be suspended at ten o’clock of this day, and
that all persons, employers and employees, assemble in their respective
wards, at the usual places of voting, and then and there organize
themselves in such manner as may be thought best for the defence of the
city. Every man, of every age, be he citizen or alien, who lives
under the protection of our laws, is expected to take part in the
organization.

“Witness my hand, and the corporate seal of the city of Cincinnati, this
second day of September, A.D. 1862.

“GEORGE HATCH, _Mayor._”

At two o’clock on the morning of the same day, the mayor issued another
proclamation, notifying the citizens that the police force would perform
the duty of a provost-guard, under the direction of Gen. Wallace.

The mayor’s proclamation, under ordinary circumstances, would be
explicit enough. “Every man, of every age, be he citizen or alien,”
 surely meant the colored people. A number thought themselves included
in the call; but, remembering the ill-will excited by former offers
for home defence, they feared to come forward for enrolment. The
proclamation ordered the people to assemble “in the respective wards, at
the usual places of voting.” The colored people had no places of voting.
Added to this, George Hatch was the same mayor who had broken up the
movement for home defence, before mentioned. Seeking to test the
matter, a policeman was approached, as he strutted in his new dignity of
provost-guard. To the question, humbly, almost tremblingly, put,
“Does the mayor desire colored men to report for service in the city’s
defence?” he replied, “You know d------d well he does’nt mean you.
Niggers ain’t citizens.”--“But he calls on all, citizens and aliens. If
he does not mean all, he should not say so.”--“The mayor knows as well
as you do what to write, and all he wants is for you niggers to keep
quiet.” This was at nine o’clock on the morning of the second. The
military authorities had determined, however, to impress the colored
men for work upon the fortifications. The privilege of volunteering,
extended to others, was to be denied to them. Permission to volunteer
would imply some freedom, some dignity, some independent manhood. For
this the commanding officer is alone chargeable.

If the guard appointed to the duty of collecting the colored people
had gone to their houses, and notified them to report for duty on the
fortifications, the order would have been cheerfully obeyed. But the
brutal ruffians who composed the regular and special police took every
opportunity to inflict abuse and insult upon the men whom they
arrested. The special police was entirely composed of that class of the
population, which, only a month before, had combined to massacre the
colored population, and were only prevented from committing great
excesses by the fact that John Morgan, with his rough riders, had
galloped to within forty miles of the river, when the respectable
citizens, fearing that the disloyal element within might combine with
the raiders without, and give the city over to pillage, called a meeting
on ‘Change, and demanded that the riot be stopped. The special police
was, in fact, composed of a class too cowardly or too traitorous to aid,
honestly and manfully, in the defence of the city. They went from
house to house, followed by a gang of rude, foul-mouthed boys. Closets,
cellars, and garrets were searched; bayonets were thrust into beds and
bedding; old and young, sick and well, were dragged out, and, amidst
shouts and jeers, marched like felons to the pen on Plum Street,
opposite the Cathedral. No time was given to prepare for camp-life; in
most cases no information was given of the purpose for which the men
were impressed. The only-answers to questions were curses, and a brutal
“Come along now; you will find out time enough.” Had the city been
captured by the Confederates, the colored people would have suffered no
more than they did at the hands of these defenders. Tuesday night, Sept.
2, was a sad night to the colored people of Cincinnati. The greater part
of the male population had been dragged from home, across the river, but
where, and for what, none could tell.

The captain of these conscripting squads was one William Homer, and in
him organized ruffianism had its fitting head. He exhibited the brutal
malignity of his nature in a continued series of petty tyrannies. Among
the first squads marched into the yard was one which had to wait several
hours before being ordered across the river. Seeking to make themselves
as comfortable as possible, they had collected blocks of wood, and piled
up bricks, upon which they seated themselves on the shaded side of the
yard. Coming into the yard, he ordered all to rise, marched them to
another part, then issued the order, “D----n you, squat.” Turning to the
guard, he added, “Shoot the first one who rises.” Reaching the opposite
side of the river, the same squad were marched from the sidewalk into
the middle of the dusty road, and again the order, “D--n you, squat,”
 and the command to shoot the first one who should rise.

The drill of this guard of white ruffians was unique, and not set down
in either Scott or Hardee. Calling up his men, he would address them
thus: “Now, you fellows, hold up your heads. Pat, hold your musket
straight; don’t put your tongue out so far; keep your eyes open: I
believe you are drunk. Now, then, I want you fellows to go out of this
pen, and bring all the niggers you can catch. Don’t come back here
without niggers: if you do, you shall not have a bit of grog. Now be
off, you shabby cusses, and come back in forty minutes, and bring me
niggers; that’s what I want.” This barbarous and inhuman treatment of
the colored citizens of Cincinnati continued for four days, without a
single word of remonstrance, except from the “Gazette.”

Finally, Col. Dickson, a humane man and gentlemanly officer, was
appointed to the command of the “Black Brigade,” and brutality gave way
to kind treatment. The men were permitted to return to their homes, to
allay the fears of their families, and to prepare themselves the better
for camp-life. The police were relieved of provost-guard duty, and on
Friday morning more men reported for duty than had been dragged together
by the police. Many had hidden too securely to be found; others had
escaped to the country. These now came forward to aid in the city’s
defence. With augmented numbers, and glowing with enthusiasm, the Black
Brigade marched to their duty. Receiving the treatment of men, they were
ready for any thing. Being in line of march, they were presented with
a national flag by Capt. Lupton, who accompanied it with the following
address:--

“I have the kind permission of your commandant, Col. Dickson, to hand
you, without formal speech or presentation, this national flag,--my
sole object to encourage and cheer you on to duty. On its broad folds is
inscribed, ‘_The Black Brigade of Cincinnati_.’ I am confident, that, in
your hands, it will not be dishonored.

“The duty of the hour is _work_,--hard, severe labor on the
fortifications of the city. In the emergency upon us, the highest and
the lowest alike owe this duty. Let it be cheerfully undertaken. He is
no _man_ who now, in defence of home and fireside, shirks duty.

“A flag is the emblem of sovereignty, a symbol and guaranty of
_protection_. Every nation and people are proud of the flag of their
country. England, for a thousand years, boasts her Red Flag and Cross
of St. George; France glories in her Tri-color and Imperial Eagle; ours,
the ‘Star-spangled Banner,’ far more beautiful than they,--_this dear
old flag!_--the sun in heaven never looked down on so proud a banner of
beauty and glory. Men of the Black Brigade, rally around it! Assert your
_manhood_; be loyal to duty; be obedient, hopeful, patient: Slavery will
soon die; the slave-holders’ rebellion, accursed of God and man, will
shortly and miserably perish. There will then be, through all the coming
ages, in very truth, a land of the free,--one country, one flag, one
destiny.

“I charge you, _men of the Black Brigade of Cincinnati_, remember
that for you, and for me, and for your children, and your children’s
children, there is but _one flag_, as there is but one Bible, and one
God, the Father of us all.”

For nearly three weeks the Black Brigade labored upon the
fortifications, their services beginning, as we have seen, Sept. 2, and
terminating Sept: 20.

When the brigade was mustered out, the commander thanked them in the
following eloquent terms:--

“_Soldiers of the Black Brigade!_ You have finished the work assigned to
you upon the fortifications for the defence of the city. You are now
to be discharged. You have labored faithfully; you have made miles of
military roads, miles of rifle-pits, felled hundreds of acres of the
largest and loftiest forest trees, built magazines and forts. The hills
across yonder river will be a perpetual monument of your labors. You
have, in no spirit of bravado, in no defiance of established prejudice,
but in submission to it, intimated to me your willingness to defend
with your lives the fortifications your hands have built. _Organized
companies of men of your race have tendered their services to aid in the
defence of the city_. In obedience to the policy of the Government, the
authorities have denied you this privilege. In the department of labor
permitted, you have, however, rendered a willing and cheerful service.
Nor has your zeal been dampened by the cruel treatment received. The
citizens, of both sexes, have encouraged you with their smiles and words
of approbation; the soldiers have welcomed you as co-laborers in the
same great cause. But a portion of the police, ruffians in character,
early learning that your services were accepted, and seeking to deprive
you of the honor of voluntary labor, before opportunity was given you to
proceed to the field, rudely seized you in the streets, in your places
of business, in your homes, everywhere, hurried you into filthy pens,
thence across the river to the fortifications, not permitting you
to make any preparation for camp-life. You have borne this with the
accustomed patience of your race; and when, under more favorable
auspices, you have received only the protection due to a common
humanity, you have labored cheerfully and effectively.

“Go to your homes with the consciousness of having performed your
duty,--of deserving, if you do not receive, the protection of the law,
and bearing with you the gratitude and respect of all honorable men.
You have learned to suffer and to wait; but, in your hours of adversity,
remember that the same God who has numbered the hairs of our heads, who
watches over even the fate of a sparrow, is the God of your race as well
as mine. The sweat-blood which the nation is now shedding at every pore
is an awful warning of how fearful a thing it is to oppress the humblest
being.”

A letter in “The Tribune,” dated Cincinnati, Sept. 7, giving an account
of the enthusiasm of the people in rallying for the city’s defence,
says, “While all have done well, the negroes, as a class, must bear away
the palm. When martial law was declared, a few prominent colored men
tendered their services in any capacity desired. As soon as it became
known that they would be accepted, Mayor Hatch’s police commenced
arresting them everywhere, dragging them away from their houses and
places of business without a moment’s notice, shutting them up in
negro-pens, and subjecting them to the grossest abuse and indignity. Mr.
Hatch is charged with secession proclivities. During the recent riots
against the negroes, the _animus_ of his police was entirely hostile
to them, and many outrages were committed upon that helpless and
unoffending class. On this occasion, the same course was pursued. No
opportunity was afforded the negro to volunteer; but they were treated
as public enemies. They were taken over the river, ostensibly to work
upon the fortification; but were scattered, detailed as cooks for white
regiments, some of them half-starved, and all so much abused that it
finally caused a great outcry. When Gen. Wallace’s attention was called
to the matter, he requested Judge William M. Dickson, a prominent
citizen, who is related by marriage to President Lincoln, to take the
whole matter in charge. Judge Dickson undertook the thankless task:
organized the negroes into two regiments of three hundred each, made
the proper provision for their comfort, and set them at work upon the
trenches. They have accomplished more than any other six hundred of the
whole eight thousand men upon the fortifications. Their work has been
entirely voluntary. Judge Dickson informed them at the outset that all
could go home who chose; that it must be entirely a labor of love with
them. _Only one man_ of the whole number has availed himself of the
privilege; the rest have all worked cheer, fully and efficiently. One of
the regiments is officered by white captains, the other by negroes. The
latter, proved so decidedly superior that both regiments will hereafter
be commanded by officers of their own race. They are not only working,
but drilling; and they already go through some of the simpler military
movements very creditably.. Wherever they appear, they are cheered by
our troops. Last night, one of the colored regiments, coming off duty
for twenty-four hours, was halted in front of headquarters, at the
Burnet House, front faced, and gave three rousing cheers for Gen.
Wallace, and three more for Judge Dickson.”



CHAPTER XV. PROCLAMATION OF FREEDOM.


_Emancipation Proclamation.--Copperhead View of It.--“Abraham Spare the
South.”--The Contrabands Rejoicing.--The Songs.--Enthusiasm.--Faith in
God.--Negro Wit.--“Forever Free.”_


On the 22d of September, 1862, President Lincoln sent forth his
proclamation, warning the rebel States that he would proclaim
emancipation to their slaves if such States did not return to the
Union before the first day of the following January. Loud were the
denunciations of the copperheads of the country; and all the stale
arguments against negro emancipation which had been used in the West
Indies thirty years before, and since then in our country, were newly
vamped, and put forward to frighten the President and his Cabinet.

The toleration of a great social wrong in any country is ever
accompanied by blindness of vision, hardness of heart, and cowardice
of mind, as well as moral deterioration and industrial impoverishment.
Hence, whenever an earnest attempt is made for the removal of the wrong,
those without eyes noisily declare that they see clearly that nothing
but disastrous consequences will follow; those who are dead to all
sensibility profess to be shocked beyond measure in contemplating the
terrible scenes that must result from the change; and those who have no
faith in justice are thrown into spasms at the mention of its impartial
administration. For a whole generation, covering the period of the
antislavery struggle in this country, have they not incessantly raised
their senseless clamors and indignant outcries against the simplest
claim of bleeding humanity to be released from its tortures, as though
it were a proposition to destroy all order, inaugurate universal ruin,
and “let chaos come again?”

“The proclamation won’t reach the slaves,” said one. “They wont heed
it,” said another.

“This proclamation is an invitation to the blacks to murder their
masters,” remarked a Boston copperhead newspaper. “The slaves will fight
for their masters,” said the same journal, the following day.

“It will destroy the Union.”--“It is harmless and impotent.”--“It will
excite slave insurrection.”--“The slaves will never hear of it.”--“It
will excite the South to desperation.”--“The rebels will laugh it to
scorn.” Delegation after delegation waited on the President, and urged a
postponement of emancipation. The Kentucky Congressional delegation did
all in their power to put back the glorious event. Conservative old-line
Whigs and backsliding antislavery men were afraid to witness the coming
day.

                   “Abraham, spare the South,

                        Touch not a single slave,

                   Nor e’en by word of mouth

                        Disturb the thing, we crave.

                   ‘Twas our forefathers’ hand

                        That slavery begot:

                   There, Abraham, let it stand;

                        Thine acts shall harm it not,”

cried thousands who called at the White House. Washington, Alexandria,
and Georgetown were crowded with “contrabands;” and hundreds were
forwarded to the Sea Islands, to be occupied in cultivating the deserted
plantations. As the day drew near, reports were circulated that the
President would re-call the pledge. The friends of the negro were
frightened; the negro himself trembled for fear that the cause would be
lost. The blacks in all the Southern departments were behaving well, as
if to deepen the already good impression made by them on the Government
officials. Rejoicing meetings were advertised at the Tremont
Temple, Boston, Cooper Institute, New York, and the largest hall in
Philadelphia, and in nearly every-city and large town in the north.
Great preparation was made at the “Contraband Camp,” in the District of
Columbia. At the latter place, they met on the last night in December,
1862, in the camp, and waited patiently for’ the coming day, when they
should become free. The fore part of the night was spent in singing and
prayer, the following being sung several times:--

                   “Oh, go down, Moses,

                   Way down into Egypt’s land;

                   Tell king Pharaoh

                   To let my people go.

               Oh, Pharaoh said he would go cross,

                   Let my people go.

               But Pharaoh and his host was lost,

                   Let my people go.

                        _Chorus_--Oh, go down, Moses, &c.


               O Moses, stretch your hands across,

                   Let my people go.

               And don’t get lost in the wilderness,

                   Let my people go.

                        _Chorus_--Oh, go down, Moses, &c.


               You may hinder me here, but you can’t up there,

                   Let my people go.

               He sits in heaven, and answers prayer,

                   Let my people go.

                        _Chorus_--Oh, go down, Moses, &c.”

After this an old man struck up, in a clear and powerful voice, “I am
a free man now: Jesus Christ has made me free!” the company gradually
joining in; and, before the close, the whole assemblage was singing in
chorus.

It was quite evident, through the exercises of the day and night, that
the negroes regard the condition of the Israelites in Egypt as typical
of their own condition in slavery; and the allusions to Moses, Pharaoh,
the Egyptian task-masters, and the unhappy condition of the captive
Israelites, were continuous; and any reference to the triumphant escape
of the Israelites across the Red Sea, and the destruction of their
pursuing masters, was certain to bring out a strong “Amen!”

An old colored preacher, who displays many of the most marked
peculiarities of his race, calling himself “John de Baptis,” and known
as such by his companions,-from his habit of always taking his text, as
he expresses it, from the “regulations ob de 2d chapter of Matthew, ‘And
in those days came John de Baptis,’” came forward, and, taking his
usual text, went on to show the necessity of following good advice, and
rebuked his hearers for being more lawless than they were in Dixie.

Then came another contraband brother, who said,--

“Onst, the time was dat I cried all night. What’s de matter? What’s de
matter? Matter enough. De nex mornin’ my child was to be sold, an’ she
was sold; an’ I neber spec to see her no more till de day ob judgment.
Now, no more dat! no more dat! no more dat! Wid my hands agin my breast
I was gwine to my work, when de overseer used to whip me along. Now, no
more dat! no more dat! no more dat! When I tink what de Lord’s done
for us, an’ brot us thro’ de trubbles, I feel dat I ought go inter his
service. We’se free now, bress de Lord! (Amens! were vociferated all
over the building.) Dey can’t sell my wife an’ child any more, bress de
Lord! (Glory, glory! from the audience.) No more dat! no more dat! no
more dat, now! (Glory!) Presurdund Lincum hav shot de gate! Dat’s what
de matter!” and there was a prolonged response of Amens!

A woman on her knees exclaimed at the top of her voice,--

                   “If de Debble do not ketch

                   Jeff. Davis, dat infernal retch,

                   An roast and frigazee dat rebble,

                   Wat is de use ob any Debble?”

“Amen! amen! amen!” cried many voices.

At this juncture of the meeting, an intelligent contraband broke out in
the following strain:--

               “The first of January next, eighteen sixty-three,--

               So says the Proclamation,--the slaves will all be free!

               To every kindly heart ‘twill be the day of jubilee;

                        For the bond shall all go free!


               John Brown, the dauntless hero, with joy is looking on;

               From his home among the angels he sees the coming dawn;

               Then up with Freedom’s banners, and hail the glorious mom

                        When the slaves shall all go free!


               We’ve made a strike for liberty; the Lord is on our side;

               And Christ, the friend of bondmen, shall ever be our guide;

               And soon the cry will ring, throughout this glorious land so wide,

                        ‘Let the bondmen all go free!’


               No more from crushed and bleeding hearts we hear the broken sigh;

               No more from brothers bound in chains we’ll hear the pleading cry;

               For the happy day, the glorious day, is coming by and by,

                        When the slaves shall all go free!


               We’re bound to make our glorious flag the banner of the free,

               The first of January next, eighteen sixty-three;

               Of every loyal Northern heart the glad cry then shall be,

                        ‘Let the bondmen all go free!’

‘No Compromise with Slavery!’ we hear the cheering sound, The road to
peace and happiness ‘Old Abe’ at last has found:

With earnest hearts and willing hands to stand by him we’re hound, While
he sets the bondmen free!

The morning light is breaking: we see its cheering ray,--

The light of Truth and Justice, that can never fade away;

And soon the light will brighten to a great and glorious day,

When the slaves shall all go free!

And when we on the ‘other side’ do all together stand,

As children of one family we’ll clasp the friendly hand:

We’ll be a band of brothers in that brighter, better land,--

Where the bond shall all be free!

After several others had spoken, George Payne, another contraband, made
a few sensible remarks, somewhat in these words: “Friends, don’t you see
de han’ of God in dis? Haven’t we a right to rejoice? You all know you
couldn’t have such a meetin’ as dis down in Dixie! Dat you all knows.
have a right to rejoice; an’ so have you; for we shall be free in jus’
about five minutes. Dat’s a fact. I shall rejoice that God has placed
Mr. Lincum in de president’s chair, and dat he wouldn’t let de rebels
make peace until after dis new year. De Lord has heard de groans of de
people, and has come down to deliver! You all knows dat in Dixie you
worked de day long, an’ never got no satisfacshun. But here, what you
make is yourn. I’ve worked six months; and what I’ve made is mine! Let
me tell you, though, don’t be too free! De lazy man can’t go to heaven.
You must be honest, an’ work, an’ show dat you is fit to be free; an’ de
Lord will bless you an’ Abrum Lincum. Amen!”

A small black man, with a rather cracking voice, appearing by his
jestures to be inwardly on fire, began jumping, and singing the
following:--

               “Massa gone, missy too;

                   Cry! niggers, cry!

               Tink I’ll see de bressed Norf,

                   ‘Fore de day I die..

                        Hi! hi! Yankee shot’im;

                        Now I tink dc debbil’s got’im.”

The whole company then joined in singing the annexed song, which made
the welkin ring, and was heard far beyond the camp.

                        I.

               “Oh! we all longed for freedom,

               Oh! we all longed for freedom,

               Oh! we all longed for freedom,

                   Ah! we prayed to be free;

                   Yes, we prayed to be free,

                   Oh! we prayed to be free,

               Though the day was long in coming,

               Though the day was long in coming,

               Though the day was long in coming,

                   That we so longed to see,

                   That we so longed to see,

                   That we so longed to see,

               Though the day was long in coming

                   That we so longed to see.


                        II.

               But bless the great Jehovah,

               But bless the great Jehovah,

               But bless the great Jehovah,

                   At last the glad day’s come,

                   At last the glad day’s come,

                   At last the glad day’s come.

               By fire and sword he brought us,

               By fire and sword he brought us,

               By fire and sword he brought us,

                   From slavery into freedom.

                   From slavery into freedom,

                   From slavery into Freedom;

               By fire and sword he brought us

                   Front slavery into freedom.


                        III.

               We’ll bless the great Redeemer,

               We’ll bless the great Redeemer,

               We’ll bless the great Redeemer,

                   And glorify his name,

                   And glorify his name,

                   And glorify his name,

               And all who helped to bring us,

               And all who helped to bring us,

               And all who helped to bring us

                   From sorrow, grief, and shame,

                   From sorrow, grief, and shame,

                   From sorrow, grief, and shame,

               And all who helped to bring us

                   From sorrow, grief, and shame.

                        IV.

               And blessed be Abraham Lincoln,

               And blessed be Abraham Lincoln,

               And blessed be Abraham Lincoln,

                   And the Union army too,

                   And the Union army too.

               May the choicest of earth’s blessings,

               May the choicest of earth’s blessings,

               May the choicest of earth’s blessings,

                   Their pathways ever strew,

                   Their pathways ever strew,

                   Their pathways ever strew!

               May the choicest of earth’s blessings

                   Their pathways ever strew!

                        V.

               We’ll strive to learn our duty,

               We’ll strive to learn our duty,

               We’ll strive to learn our duty,

                   That all our friends may see,

                   That all our friends may see,

                   That all our friends may see,

               Though so long oppressed in bondage,

               Though so long oppressed in bondage,

               Though so long oppressed in bondage,

                   We were worthy to be free,

                   We were worthy to be free,

                   We were worthy to be free:

               Though so long oppressed in bondage,

                   We were worthy to be free.”

Just before midnight, Dr. Nichols requested all present to kneel, and
to silently invoke the blessing of the Almighty. The silence was almost
deadly when the clock announced the new year; and Dr. Nichols said, “Men
and women (for you are this day to be declared free, and I can address
you as men and women), I wish you a happy new year!” An eloquent prayer
was then offered by an aged negro; after which, all rose, and joined in
singing their version of “Glory! glory! hallelujah!” shaking each
other by the hand, and indulging in joyous demonstrations. They then
promenaded the grounds, singing hymns, and finally serenaded the
superintendent, in whose honor a sable improvisatore carolled forth an
original ode, the chorus of which was, “Free forever! Forever free!”

               “Ring, ring! O Bell of Freedom, ring!

               And to the ears of bondmen bring

               Thy sweet and freeman-thrilling tone.

               On Autumn’s blast, from zone to zone,

               The joyful tidings go proclaim,

               In Liberty’s hallowed name:

               Emancipation to the slave,

               The rights which his Creator gave,

               To live with chains asunder riven,

               To live free as the birds of heaven,

               To live free as the air he breathes,

               Entirely free from galling greaves;

               The right to act, to know, to feel,

               That bands of iron and links of steel

               Were never wrought to chain the mind,

               Nor human flesh in bondage bind;

               That Heaven, in its generous plan,

               Gave like and equal rights to man.

               Go send thy notes from shore to shore,

               Above the deep-voiced cannon’s roar;

               Go send Emancipation’s peal

               Where clashes North with Southern steel,

               And nerve the Southern bondmen now

               To rise and strike the final blow,

               To lay Oppression’s minions low.

               Oh! rouse the mind and nerve the arm

               To brave the blast and face the storm;

               And, ere the war-cloud passes by,

               We’ll have a land of liberty.


               Our God has said, “Let there be light

               Where Error palls the land with night.”

               Then send forth now, O Freedom’s bell,

               Foul Slavery’s last and fatal knell!

               Oh! speed the tidings o’er the land,

               That tells that stern Oppression’s hand

               Has yielded to the power of Right:

               That Wrong is weak, that Truth is might!

               Then Union shall again return,

                   And Freedom’s fires shall brightly burn;

               And peace and jot, sweet guests, shall come,

               And dwell in every heart and home.”

“Free forever! Forever free!”

No pen can fitly portray the scene that followed this announcement.
Every heart seemed to leap for joy: some were singing, some praying,
some weeping, some dancing, husbands embracing Wives, friends shaking
hands, and appearing to feel that the Day of Jubilee had come. A sister
broke out in the following strain, which was heartily joined in by the
vast assembly:--

               “Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,

               Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.


          Our bitter tasks are ended, all onr unpaid labor done;

          Our galling chains are broken, and our onward march begun:

               Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,

               Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.


          Down in the house of bondage we have watched and waited long;

          The oppressor’s heel was heavy, the oppressor’s arm was strong:

               Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,

               Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.


          Not vainly have we waited through the long and darkened years;

          Not vain the patient watching, ‘mid our sweat and blood and tears:

               Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,

               Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.


          Now God is with Grant, and he’ll surely whip Lee;

          For the Proclamation says that the niggers must be free:

               Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,

               Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.”

Thus ended the last night of slavery in the contraband camp at
Washington.

The morning of Jan. 1, 1863, was anxiously looked for by the friends of
freedom throughout the United States; and, during the entire day, the
telegraph offices in the various places were beset by crowds, waiting to
hear the news from the Nation’s capital. Late in the day the following
proclamation made its appearance:--

_Washington_, Jan. 1, 1863.--I Abraham Lincoln, President of the United
States of America, do issue this my Proclamation:--

Whereas, On the 22d day of September, in the year of our Lord one
thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, a proclamation was issued by
the President of the United States, containing, among other things, the
following, to wit:--

“That, on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord,
one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as
slaves within any State or any designated part of a State, the people
whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be
then, henceforward, and forever, free; and the Executive Government of
the United States, including the military and naval force thereof, will
recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do no act
or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any effort they may
make for their actual freedom; that the Executive will, on the first day
of January aforesaid, by proclamation, designate the States and parts of
States, if any in which the people therein respectively shall then be
in rebellion against the United States; and the fact that any State or
people thereof shall on that day be in good faith represented in the
Congress of the United States by members chosen thereto, at elections
wherein a majority of the qualified voters of such States shall have
participated, shall, in the absence of strong countervailing testimony,
be deemed conclusive evidence that such State and the people thereof are
not then in rebellion against the United States.

“Now, therefore, I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, by
virtue of the power in me vested, as Commander-in-Chief of the Army
and Navy of the United States in times of actual rebellion against
the authorities and Government of the United States, and as a fit and
necessary war measure for suppressing this rebellion, do on this, the
first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred
and sixty-three, and in accordance with my purpose so to do, publicly
proclaimed for the full period of one hundred days from the date of the
first above-mentioned order, do designate as the States and parts
of States wherein the people thereof respectively, are this day in
rebellion against the United States. The following, to wit:--

“Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia,
South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia.

“Louisiana (except the parishes of St. Bernard, Placquemines,
Jefferson, St. John, St. Charles, St. James, Ascension, Assumption,
Terre Bonne, Lafourche, St. Mary, St. Martin, and Orleans, including
the city of New Orleans), Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South
Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia, except the forty-eight counties
designated as West Virginia, and also the counties of Berkley, Accomac,
Northampton, Elizabeth City, York, Princess Anne, and Norfolk, including
the cities of Norfolk and Portsmouth, which excepted parts are for the
present left precisely as if this proclamation were not made.

“And by virtue of the power, for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and
declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States
and parts of States are, and henceforward shall be, free; and the
Executive Government of the United States, including the military and
naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of
such persons.

“And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free to abstain
from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence; and I recommend
to them, that, in all cases where allowed, they labor faithfully for
reasonable wages.

“And I further declare and make known, that such persons, if in suitable
condition, will be received into the armed service of the United States,
to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man
vessels of all sorts in said service. And upon this, sincerely believed
to be an act of justice warranted by the Constitution, and upon military
necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind and the gracious
favor of Almighty God.

“In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the seal of
the United States to be affixed.

“Done at the city of Washington, this first day of January, in the
year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the
independence of the United States of America the eighty-seventh.

[L. S.] (Signed) “_ABRAHAM LINCOLN_.

“By the President.

“Wm. H. Seward, _Secretary of State_.”

This was the beginning of a new era: the word had gone forth, and a
policy was adopted.

               “The deed is done. Millions have yearned

                   To see the spear of Freedom cast:

               The dragon writhed and roared and burned;

                   You’ve smote him full and square at last.”

The proclamation gave new life and vigor to our men on the battle-field.
The bondmen everywhere caught up the magic word, and went with it from
farm to farm, and from town to town. Black men flocked to recruiting
stations, and offered themselves for the war. Everybody saw light in
the distance. What newspapers and orators had failed to do in months was
done by the proclamation in a single week. Frances Ellen Harper, herself
colored, cheered in the following strain:--

               “It shall flash through coming ages;

                   It shall light the distant years;

               And eyes now dim with sorrow

                   Shall be brighter through their tears.


               It shall flush the mountain ranges,

                   And the valleys shall grow bright;

               It shall bathe the hills in radiance,

                   And crown their brows with light.


                   It shall flood with golden splendor

                   All the huts of Caroline;

               And the sun-kissed brow of labor

                   With lustre new shall shine.


               It shall gild the gloomy prison,

                   Darkened with the age’s crime,

               Where the dumb and patient millions

                   Wait the better coming time.


               By the light that gilds their prison,

                   They shall seize its mouldering key;

               And the bolts and bars shall vibrate

                   With the triumphs of the free.


               Like the dim and ancient Chaos,

                   Shuddering at Creation’s light,

               Oppression grim and hoary

                   Shall cower at the sight.

               And her spawn of lies and malice

                   Shall grovel in the dust;

               While joy shall thrill the bosoms

                   Of the merciful and just.


               Though the morning seems to linger

                   O’er the hilltops far away,

               The shadows bear the promise

                   Of the quickly coming day.

               Soon the mists and murky shadows

                   Shall be fringed with crimson light,

               And the glorious dawn of freedom

                   Break resplendent on the sight.”



CHAPTER XVI.--THE NEW POLICY.


_A New Policy announced.--Adjutant-Gen. Thomas.--Major-Gen.
Prentiss.--Negro Wit and Humor.--Proslavery Correspondents.--Feeling in
the Army.--Let the Blacks fight._


Attorney-Gen. Bates had already given his opinion with regard to the
citizenship of the negro, and that opinion was in the black man’s favor.
The Emancipation Proclamation was only a prelude to calling on the
colored men to take up arms, and the one soon followed the other;
for the word “Emancipation” had scarcely gone over the wires,
ere Adjutant-Gen. Thomas made his appearance in the valley of the
Mississippi. At Lake Providence, La., he met a large wing of the army,
composed of volunteers from all parts of the country, and proclaimed to
them the new policy of the administration; and he did it in very plain
words, as will be seen:--

“_Fellow-Soldiers_,--Your commanding general has so fully stated the
object of my mission, that it is almost unnecessary for me to say
any thing to you in reference to it. Still, as I come here with full
authority from the President of the United States to announce the
policy, which, after mature deliberation, has been determined upon by
the wisdom of the nation, it is my duty to make known to you clearly and
fully the features of that policy.

“It is a source of extreme gratification to me to come before you
this day, knowing, as I do full well, how glorious have been your
achievements on the field of battle. No soldier can come before soldiers
of tried valor, without having the deepest emotions of his soul stirred
within him. These emotions I feel on the present occasion; and I beg you
will listen to what I have to say, as soldiers receiving from a soldier
the commands of the President of the United States.

“I came from Washington clothed with the fullest power in this matter.
With this power, I can act as if the President of the United States were
himself present. I am directed to refer nothing to Washington, but
to act promptly,--what I have to do to do at once; to strike down the
unworthy and to elevate the deserving.

“Look along the river, and see the multitude of deserted plantations
upon its banks. These are the places for these freedmen, where they can
be self-sustaining and self-supporting. All of you will some day be on
picket-duty; and I charge you all, if any of this unfortunate race come
within your lines, that you do not turn them away, but receive them
kindly and cordially. They are to be encouraged to come to us; they are
to be received with open arms; they are to be fed and clothed; _they are
to be armed._

“This is the policy that has been fully determined upon. I am here to
say that I am authorized to raise as many regiments of blacks as I can.
I am authorized to give commissions, from the highest to the lowest; and
I desire those persons who are earnest in this work to take hold of it.
I desire only those whose hearts are in it, and to them alone will I
give commissions. I don’t care who they are, or what their present rank
may be. I do not hesitate to say, that all proper persons will receive
commissions.

“While I am authorized thus in the name of the Secretary of War, I have
the fullest authority to dismiss from the army any man, be his rank what
it may, whom I find maltreating the freedmen. This part of my duty I
will most assuredly perform if any case comes before me. I would rather
do that than give commissions, because such men are unworthy the name of
soldiers.

“This, fellow-soldiers, is the determined policy of the Administration.
You all know, full well, when the President of the United States, though
said to be slow in coming to a determination, once puts his foot down,
it is there; and he is not going to take it up. He has put his foot
down. I am here to assure you that my official influence shall be
given that he shall not raise it.” Major-Gen. B. M. Prentiss, after
the cheering had subsided which greeted his appearance, indorsed, in
a forcible and eloquent speech, the policy announced by Adjutant-Gen.
Thomas, and said, that, “from the time he was a prisoner, and a negro
sentinel, with firm step, _beat_ in front of his cell, and with firmer
voice commanded silence within, he prayed God for the day of revenge;
and he now thanked God that it had come.” Turning to Gen. Thomas, the
speaker continued, “Yes: tell the President for me, I will receive them
into the lines; I will beg them to come in; _I will make them come in!_
and if any officer in my command, high or low, _neglects to receive them
friendly, and treat them kindly, I will put them outside the lines_.
(Tremendous applause.) Soldiers, when you go to your quarters, if you
hear any one condemning the policy announced here to-day, put him
down as a contemptible copperhead traitor. Call them what you please,
copperheads, secesh, or traitors, they are all the same to me: _enemies
of our country_, against whom I have taken a solemn oath, and called God
as my witness, to whip them wherever I find them.”

Congress had already passed a bill empowering the President “to enroll,
arm, equip, and receive into the land and naval service of the United
States, such a number of volunteers of African descent as he may deem
equal to suppress the present rebellion, for such term of service as
he may prescribe, not exceeding five years; the said volunteers to be
organized according to the regulations of the branch of the service into
which they may be enlisted, to receive the same rations, clothing, and
equipments as other volunteers, and a monthly pay not to exceed that of
the volunteers.”

Proslavery newspaper correspondents from the North, in the Western and
Southern departments, still continued to report to their journals that
the slaves would not fight if an opportunity was offered to them. Many
of these were ridiculously amusing. The following is a sample:--

“I noticed upon the hurricane-deck, to-day, an elderly negro, with a
very philosophical and retrospective cast of countenance, squatted
upon his bundle, toasting his shins against the chimney, and apparently
plunged into a state of profound meditation. Finding by inquiry that he
belonged to the Ninth Illinois, one of the most gallantly-behaved and
heavily-losing regiments at the Fort-Donelson battle, and part of which
was aboard, I began to interrogate him upon the subject. His philosophy
was so much in the Falstaffian vein that I will give his views in his
own words, as near as my memory serves me:--

“‘Were you in the fight?’

“‘Had a little taste of it, sa.’

“‘Stood your ground, did you?’

“‘No, sa; I runs.’

“‘Run at the first fire, did you?’

“‘Yes, sa; and would ha’ run soona had I know’d it war comin’.’

“‘Why, that wasn’t very creditable to your courage.’

“‘Dat isn’t in my line, sa; cookin’s my perfeshun.’ “‘Well, but have
you no regard for your reputation?’ ‘“Refutation’s nuffin by the side ob
life.’

“‘Do you consider your life worth more than other people’s?’

“‘It’s worth more to me, sa.’

“‘Then you must value it very highly.’

“‘Yes, sa, I does; more dan all dis wuld; more dan a million of
dollars, sa: for what would dat be wuf to a man wid de bref out of him.
Self-perserbashum am de fust law wid me.’

“‘But why should you act upon a different rule from other men?’

“‘Because different men set different values upon dar lives: mine is not
in de market.’

“‘But if you lost it, you would have the satisfaction of knowing that
you died for your country.’

“‘What satisfaction would dat be to me when de power ob feelin’ was
gone?’

“‘Then patriotism and honor are nothing to you?’

“‘Nuffin whatever, sa: I regard dem as among de vanities; and den de
gobernment don’t know me; I hab no rights; may be sold like old hoss any
day, and dat’s all.’

“‘If our old soldiers were like you, traitors might have broken up the
Government without resistance.’

“‘Yes, sa; dar would hab been no help for it. I wouldn’t put my life in
de scale ‘ginst any gobernment dat ever existed; for no gobernment could
replace de loss to me.’

“‘Do you think any of your company would have missed you if you had been
killed?’

“‘May be not, sa; a dead white man ain’t much to dese sogers, let alone
a dead nigga; but I’d a missed myself, and dat was de pint wid me.’

“It is safe to say that the dusky corpse of that African will never
darken the field of carnage.”



CHAPTER XVII.--ARMING THE BLACKS.


Department of the South.--Gen. Hunter Enlisting Colored Men.--Letter to
Gov. Andrew.--Success.--The Earnest Prayer.--The Negro’s Confidence in
God.


The Northern regiments stationed at the South, or doing duty in that
section, had met with so many reverses on the field of battle, and had
been so inhumanly treated by the rebels, both men and women, that the
new policy announced by Adjutant-Gen. Thomas, at Lake Providence and
other places, was received with great favor, especially when the white
soldiers heard from their immediate commanders, that the freedmen, when
enlisted, would be employed in doing fatigue-duty, when not otherwise
needed. The slave, regarding the use of the musket as the only means of
securing his freedom permanently, sought the nearest place of enlistment
with the greatest speed.

The appointment of men from the ranks of the white regiments over the
blacks caused the former to feel still more interest in the new levies.
The position taken by Major-Gen. Hunter, in South Carolina, and his
favorable reports of the capability of the freedmen for military
service, and the promptness with which that distinguished scholar and
Christian gentleman, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, accepted the colonelcy
of the First South Carolina, made the commanding of negro regiments
respectable, and caused a wish on the part of white volunteers to seek
commissions over the blacks.

The new regiments filled up rapidly; the recruits adapted themselves to
their new condition with a zeal that astonished even their friends;
and their proficiency in the handling of arms, with only a few days’
training, set the minds of their officers at rest with regard to their
future action. The following testimonial from Gen. Hunter is not without
interest:--

“Headquarters Department of the South,

“Hilton Head, Port Royal, S.C., May 4, 1863.

_“To His Excellency the Governor of Massachusetts, Boston, Mass._

“I am happy to be able to announce to you my complete and eminent
satisfaction with the results of the organization of negro regiments in
this department. In the field, so far as tried, they have proved brave,
active, enduring, and energetic, frequently outrunning, by their zeal,
and familiarity with the Southern country, the restrictions deemed
prudent by certain of their officers. They have never disgraced their
uniform by pillage or cruelty, but have so conducted themselves, upon
the whole, that even our enemies, though more anxious to find fault with
these than with any other portion of our troops, have not yet been
able to allege against them a single violation of any of the rules of
civilized warfare.

“These regiments are hardy, generous, temperate, patient, strictly
obedient, possessing great natural aptitude for arms, and deeply imbued
with that religious sentiment--call it fanaticism, such as like--which
made the soldiers of Cromwell invincible. They believe that now is
the time appointed by God for their deliverance; and, under the heroic
incitement of this faith, I believe them capable of showing a courage,
and persistency of purpose, which must, in the end, extort both victory
and admiration.

“In this connection, I am also happy to announce to you that the
prejudices of certain of our white soldiers and officers against these
indispensable allies are rapidly softening, or fading out; and that we
have now opening before us in this department, which was the first
in the present war to inaugurate the experiment of employing colored
troops, large opportunities of putting them to distinguished and
profitable use.

“With a brigade of liberated slaves already in the field, a few more
regiments of intelligent colored men from the North would soon place
this force in a condition to make extensive incursions upon the main
land, through the most densely populated slave regions; and, from
expeditions of this character, I make no doubt the most beneficial
results would arise.

“I have the honor to be, Governor,

“Very respectfully,

“Your most obedient servant,

“D. HUNTER,

“_Major-Gen. Commanding.”_

Reports from all parts of the South gave corroborative evidence of the
deep religious zeal with which the blacks entered the army. Every thing
was done for “God and liberty.”

Col. T. W. Higginson, in “The Atlantic Monthly,” gives the following
prayer, which he heard from one of his contraband soldiers:--

Let me so lib dat when I-die I shall _hab manners_; dat I shall know
what to say when I see my heabenly Lord.

“‘Let me lib wid de musket in one hand, an’ de Bible in de oder--dat if
I die at de muzzle of de musket, die in de water, die on de land, I may
know I hab de bressed Jesus in my hand, an’ hab no fear.

“‘I hab lef my wife in de land o’ bondage; my little ones dey say eb’ry
night, “Whar is my fader?” But when I die, when de bressed mornin’
rises, when I shall stan’ in de glory, wid one foot on de water an’ one
foot on de land, den, O Lord! I shall see my wife an’ my little chil’en
once more.’”

“These sentences I noted down, as best I could, beside the glimmering
camp-fire last night. The same person was the hero of a singular little
_contre-temps_ at a funeral in the afternoon. It was our first funeral.
The man had died in hospital, and we had chosen a picturesque burial
place above the river, near the old church, and beside a little nameless
cemetery, used by generations of slaves. It was a regular military
funeral, the coffin being draped with the American flag, the escort
marching behind, and three volleys fired over the grave. During the
services, there was singing, the chaplain deaconing out the hymn in
their favorite way. This ended, he announced his text: ‘This poor
man cried, and the Lord heard him, and delivered him out of all his
trouble.’ Instantly, to my great amazement, the cracked voice of the
chorister was uplifted, intoning the text, as if it were the first verse
of another hymn. So calmly was it done, so imperturbable were all the
black countenances that I half began to conjecture that the chaplain
himself intended it for a hymn, though I could imagine no prospective
rhyme for _trouble_, unless it were approximated by _debbil_; which is,
indeed, a favorite reference, both with the men and with his reverence.
But the chaplain, peacefully awaiting, gently repeated his text after
the chant, and to my great relief the old chorister waived all further
recitative, and let the funeral discourse proceed.

“Their memories are a vast bewildered chaos of Jewish history and
biography; and most of the great events of the past, down to the period
of the American Revolution, they instinctively attribute to Moses.
There is a fine bold confidence in all their citations, however, and the
record never loses piquancy in their hands, though strict accuracy may
suffer. Thus one of my captains, last Sunday, heard a colored exhorter
at Beaufort proclaim, ‘Paul may plant, _and may polish wid water_, but
it won’t do,’ in which the sainted Apollos would hardly have recognized
himself.

“A correspondent of the Burlington “Free Press” gives an account of a
Freedmen’s meeting at Belle Plain, Va. “Some of the negro prayers and
exhortations were very simple and touching. One said in his prayer, ‘O
Lord! we’s glad for de hour when our sins nailed us to de foot of de
cross, and de bressed Lord Jesus put his soft arm around us, and tole us
dat we’s his chilien: we’s glad we’s sinners, so dat we can be saved by
his grace.’ Another thus earnestly prayed for the army of freedom:

“‘O Lord! bress de Union army; be thou their bulwarks and ditches. O
Lord! as thou didst hear our prayer when we’s down in de Souf country,
as we held de plow and de hoe in the hot sun, so hear our prayer at dis
time for de Union army. Guard’em on de right, and on de lef,’ and in
de rear: don’t lef’ ‘em ‘lone, though they’s mighty wicked.’ Another (a
young man) thus energetically desired the overthrow of Satan’s empire:
‘O Lord! if you please, sir, won’t you come forth out of de heaven, and
take ride ‘round about hell, and give it a mighty shake till de walls
fall down.’

“A venerable exhorter got the story of the Prodigal Son slightly mixed,
but not so as to damage the effect at all. He said, ‘He rose up and went
to his fader’s house. And I propose he was ragged. And I propose de road
dirty. But when his fader saw him coming over de hill, ragged and dirty,
he didn’t say, “Dat ain’t my son.” He go and meet him. He throw his arms
round his neck and kiss; and, while he was hugging and kissing him, he
thought of dat robe in de wardroom, and he said, “Bring dat robe, and
put it on him.” And when dey was a putting on de robe, he thought of de
ring, dat splendid ring! and he said, “My son, dat was dead and is alive
again, he like dat ring, cos it shine so.” And he made dem bring de
ring and put it on his hand; and he put shoes on his feet, and killed de
fatted calf. And here, my friends, see defection of de prodigal for his
son. But, my bredren, you are a great deal better off dan de prodigal’s
son. For he hadn’t no gemmen of a different color to come and tell him
dat his fader was glad to hab him come home again. But dese handmaid
bredren has kindly come dis evening to tell us dat our heabenly Father
wants us to come back now. He’s ready to gib us de robe and de ring.
De bressed Lord Jesus stands leaning over de bannisters of heaven, and
reaching down his arms to take us up. O my friends! I ask you dis night
to repent. If you lose your soul, you’ll never get anoder. I tell you
all, if you don’t repent you’re goin’ straight to hell; and in de
last day, when de Lord say to you, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into
everlastin’ fire,” if you’re ‘onorable, you’ll own up, and say it’s
right. O my friends.! I tell you de truth: it’s de best way to come to
de Lord Jesus dis night.’”.

Regiment after regiment of blacks were mustered into the United-States
service, in all the rebel States, and were put on duty at once, and were
sooner or later called to take part in battle.



CHAPTER XVIII.--BATTLE OF MILLINERS BEND.


_Contraband Regiments; their Bravery; the Surprise.--Hand to hand
Fight.--“No Quarters.”--Negroes rather die than surrender.--The Gunboat
and her dreadful Havoc with the Enemy._


On the 7th of June, 1863, the first regular battle was fought between
the blacks and whites in the valley of the Mississippi. The planters had
boasted, that, should they meet their former slaves, a single look from
them would cause the negroes to throw down their weapons, and run. Many
Northern men, especially copperheads, professed to believe that such
would be the case. Therefore, all eyes were turned to the far off South,
the cotton, sugar, and rice-growing States, to see how the blacks
would behave on the field of battle; for it is well known that the most
ignorant of the slave population belonged in that section.

The following account of the fight is from an eye witness:--

“My informant states that a force of about five hundred negroes, and two
hundred men of the Twenty-third Iowa, belonging to the second brigade,
Carr’s division (the Twenty-third Iowa had been up the river with
prisoners, and was on its way back to this place), was surprised in camp
by a rebel force of about two thousand men. The first intimation that
the commanding officer received was from one of the black men, who went
into the colonel’s tent, and said, ‘Massa, the secesh are in camp.”
 The colonel ordered him to have the men load their guns at once. He
instantly replied, “We have done did dat now, massa.” Before the colonel
was ready, the men were in line, ready for action. As before stated,
the rebels drove our force towards the gunboats, taking colored men
prisoners and murdering them. This so enraged them that they rallied,
and charged the enemy more heroically and desperately than has been
recorded during the war. It was a genuine bayonet-charge, a hand-to-hand
fight, that has never occurred to any extent during this prolonged
conflict. Upon both sides men were killed with the butts of muskets.
White and black men were lying side by side, pierced by bayonets, and
in some instances transfixed to the earth. In one instance, two men--one
white and the other black--were found dead, side by side, each having
the other’s bayonet through his body. If facts prove to be what they are
now represented, this engagement of Sunday morning will be recorded as
the most desperate of this war. Broken limbs, broken heads, the mangling
of bodies, all prove that it was a contest between enraged men: on
the one side, from hatred to a race; and, on the other, desire for
self-preservation, revenge for past grievances, and the inhuman murder
of their comrades. One brave man took his former master prisoner,
and brought him into camp with great gusto. A rebel prisoner made a
particular request, that _his own_ negroes should not be placed over him
as a guard.

Capt. M. M. Miller, of Galena, III., who commanded a company in the
Ninth Louisiana (colored) Regiment, in a letter, gives the following
account of the battle:--

“We were attacked here on June 7, about three o’clock in the morning, by
a brigade of Texas troops, about two thousand five hundred in number.
We had about six hundred men to withstand them, five hundred of them
negroes. I commanded Company I, Ninth Louisiana. We went into the fight
with thirty-three men. I had sixteen killed, eleven badly wounded, and
four slightly. I was wounded slightly on the head, near the right eye,
with a bayonet, and had a bayonet run through my right hand, near the
forefinger; that will account for this miserable style of penmanship.

“Our regiment had about three hundred men in the fight. We had one
colonel wounded, four captains wounded, two first and two second
lieutenants killed, five lieutenants wounded, and three white orderlies
killed, and one wounded in the hand, and two fingers taken off. The list
of killed and wounded officers comprised nearly all the officers present
with the regiment, a majority of the rest being absent recruiting.

“We had about fifty men killed in the regiment and eighty wounded; so
you can judge of what part of the fight my company sustained. I never
felt more grieved and sick at heart, than when I saw how my brave
soldiers had been slaughtered,--one with six wounds, all the rest with
two or three, none less than two wounds. Two of my colored sergeants
were killed: both brave, noble men, always prompt, vigilant, and ready
for the fray. I never more wish to hear the expression, ‘The niggers
won’t fight.’ Come with me, a hundred yards from where I sit, and I can
show you the wounds that cover the bodies of sixteen as brave, loyal,
and patriotic soldiers as ever drew bead on a rebel.

“The enemy charged us so close that we fought with our bayonets, hand to
hand. I have six broken bayonets to show how bravely my men fought.
The Twenty-third Iowa joined my company on the right; and I declare
truthfully that they had all fled before our regiment fell back, as we
were all compelled to do.

“Under command of Col. Page, I led the Ninth and Eleventh Louisiana when
the rifle-pits were retaken and held by our troops, our two regiments
doing the work.

“I narrowly escaped death once. A rebel took deliberate aim at me with
both barrels of his gun; and the bullets passed so close to me that the
powder that remained on them burnt my cheek. Three of my men, who saw
him aim and fire, thought that he wounded me each fire. One of them
was killed by my side, and he fell on me, covering my clothes with his
blood; and, before the rebel could fire again, I blew his brains out
with my gun.

“It was a horrible fight, the worst I was ever engaged in,--not even
excepting Shiloh. The enemy cried, ‘No quarter!’ but some of them were
very glad to take it when made prisoners.

“Col. Allen, of the Sixteenth Texas, was killed in front of our
regiment, and Brig.-Gen. Walker was wounded. We killed about one hundred
and eighty of the enemy. The gunboat “Choctaw” did good service shelling
them. I stood on the breastworks after we took them, and gave the
elevations and direction for the gunboat by pointing my sword; and they
sent a shell right into their midst, which sent them in all directions.
Three shells fell there, and sixty-two rebels lay there when the fight
was over.

“My wound is not serious but troublesome. What few men I have left seem
to think much of me, because I stood up with them in the fight. I can
say for them that I never saw a braver company of men in my life.

“Not one of them offered to leave his place until ordered to fall back.
I went down to the hospital, three miles, to-day to see the wounded.
Nine of them were there, two having died of their wounds. A boy I had
cooking for me came and bogged a gun when the rebels were advancing, and
took his place with the company; and, when we retook the breastworks, I
found him badly wounded, with one gun-shot and two bayonet wounds. A new
recruit I had issued a gun to the day before the fight was found dead,
with a firm grasp on his gun, the bayonet of which was broken in three
pieces. So they fought and died, defending the cause that we revere.
They met death coolly, bravely: not rashly did they expose themselves,
but all were steady and obedient to orders.”

This battle satisfied the slave-masters of the South that their charm
was gone, and that the negro, as a slave, was lost forever. Yet there
was one fact connected with the battle of Milliken’s Bend which
will descend to posterity, as testimony against the humanity of
slave-holders; and that is, that no negro was ever found alive that was
taken a prisoner by the rebels in this fight.



CHAPTER XIX--RAISING BLACK REGIMENTS AT THE NORTH.


_Prejudices at the North.--Black Laws of Illinois and
Indiana.--Ill-treatment of Negroes.--The Blacks forget their Wrongs, and
come to the Rescue._


In the struggle between the Federal Government and the rebels, the
colored men asked the question, “Why should we fight?” The question was
a legitimate one, at least for those residing in the Northern States,
and especially in those States where there were any considerable number
of colored people. In every State north of Mason and Dixon’s Line,
except Massachusetts and Rhode Island, which attempted to raise a
regiment of colored men, the blacks are disfranchised, excluded from the
jury-box, and in most of them from the public schools. The iron hand
of prejudice in the Northern States is as circumscribing and unyielding
upon him as the manacles that fettered the slave of the South.

Now, these are facts, deny it who will. The negro has little to hope
from Northern sympathy or legislation. Any attempt to engraft upon
the organic law of the States provisions extending to the colored man
political privileges is overwhelmingly defeated by the people. It makes
no difference that here is a pen, and there a voice, raised in his
behalf: the general verdict is against him; and its repetition in any
case where it is demanded shows that it is inexorable. We talk a great
deal about the vice of slavery, and the cruelty of denying to our
fellowmen their personal freedom and a due reward of labor; but we are
very careful not to concede the corollary, that the sin of withholding
that freedom is not vastly greater than withholding the rights to which
he who enjoys it is entitled.

When the war broke out, it was the boast of the Administration that the
status of the negro was not to be changed in the rebel States. President
Lincoln, in his inaugural address, took particular pains to commit
himself against any interference with the condition of the blacks.

When the Rebellion commenced, and the call was made upon the country,
the colored men were excluded. In some of the Western States into which
slaves went when escaping from their rebel masters, in the first and
second years of the war, the black-laws were enforced to drive them
out. Read what “The Daily Alton Democrat” said for Illinois, in the year
1862:--

“_Notice to the ‘Free Negroes.’_--I hereby give public notice to all
free negroes who have arrived here from a foreign State within the
past two months, or may hereafter come into the city of Alton with the
intention of being residents thereof, that they are allowed the space of
thirty days to remove; and, upon failure to leave the city, will,
after that period, be proceeded against by the undersigned, as by
law directed. The penalty is a heavy fine, to liquidate which the
law-officer is compelled to offer all free negroes arrested at public
auction, unless the fine and all costs of suit are promptly paid. I hope
the city authorities will be spared the _necessity_ of putting the
above law _in execution_. All railroad companies and steamboats are also
forbidden to land free negroes within the city under the penalty of
the law. No _additional_ notice will be given. Suits will positively be
instituted against all offenders.

“JAMES W. DAVIS,

“May 27, 1862.”

“_Prosecuting Attorney Alton-City Court._”

The authorities of the State of Indiana also got on the track of the
contrabands from the rebel States; and the old black-laws were put forth
as follows:--

“Any person who shall employ a negro or mulatto who shall have come into
the State of Indiana subsequent to the thirty-first day of October, in
the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-one, or shall hereafter
come into said State, or who shall encourage such negro or mulatto
to remain in the State, shall be fined in any sum not less than ten
dollars, nor more than five hundred dollars.”

The following will show how Illinois treated the colored people, even
after the proclamation of freedom was put forth by President Lincoln.

“The Whiteside (Ill.) Sentinel” says the following official notice
is posted in the post-office and other public places in the city of
Carthage, Hancock County, Ill. It is a practical exemplication of the
Illinois “black-laws.” The notice reads as follows:--

“_Public Sale_.--Whereas, The following negroes and one mulatto man
were, on the fifth and sixth days of February, 1863, tried before the
undersigned, a Justice of the Peace within and for Hancock County, Ill.,
on a charge of high misdemeanor, having come into this State and county,
and remaining therein for ten days and more, with the evident intention
of residing in this State, and were found guilty by a jury, and were
each severally fined in the sum of fifty dollars, and the judgment was
rendered against said negroes and mulatto man for fifty dollars’ fine
each, and costs of suit, which fines and costs are annexed opposite to
each name, to wit:--

                                          Age. Fine. Costs.

  John, a negro man, tall and slim, about. 35   $50  $33.17

  Sambo, a negro man, about                21    50   32.17

  Austin, a negro man, heavy set, about    20    50   30.10

  Andrew, a negro man, about               50    30   33.00

  Amos, a negro man, about                 40    50   29.67

  Nelson, a mulatto man, about             55    50   30.07


“And whereas. Said fines and costs have not been paid, notice is
therefore given that the undersigned will, on Thursday, the nineteenth
day of February, A.D. 1863, between the hours of one and five o’clock,
p.m., of said day, at the west end of the Court House, in Carthage,
Hancock County, 111., sell each of said negro men, John, Austin, Sambo,
Andrew, Amos, and said mulatto man, Nelson, at public auction, to the
person or persons who will pay the said fine and costs appended against
each respectively for the shortest time of service of said negroes and
mulatto.

“The purchaser or purchasers will be entitled to the control and
services of the negroes and mulatto purchased for the period named in
the sale, and no longer, and will be required to furnish said negroes
and mulatto with comfortable food, clothing, and lodging during said
servitude. The fees for selling will be added on completion of the sale.

“_C. M. CHILD, J.P_.

“Carthage, Feb. 9, 1863.”

It will be seen that these odious laws were rigidly enforced. With what
grace could the authorities in those States ask the negro to fight? Yet
they called upon him; and he, forgetting the wrongs of the past, and
demanding no pledge for better treatment, left family, home, and every
thing dear, enlisted, and went forth to battle. And even Connecticut,
with her proscription of the negro, called on him to fight. How
humiliating it must have been! And yet Connecticut, after appealing to
black men, and receiving their aid in fighting her battles, retains
her negro “black-laws” upon her statute-book by a vote of more than six
thousand.



CHAPTER XX.--FIFTY-FOURTH MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT.


_Its Organization.--Its Appearance.--Col. Shaw.--Presentation of
Colors.--Its Dress-Parade.--Its Departure from Boston._


The Fifty-fourth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry was
called into the service of the United States by the President, under an
act of Congress, passed July 21, 1861, entitled “An Act to authorize the
Employment of Volunteers to aid in enforcing the Laws and protecting’
Public Property.” Recruiting began Feb. 9, 1863, in Boston. A camp of
rendezvous was opened at “Camp Meigs,” Readville, Mass., on the 21st of
February, with a squad of twenty-seven men; and, by the end of March,
five companies were recruited, comprising four hundred and fourteen
men. This number was doubled during April; and, on the 12th of May, the
regiment was full.

Orders being received for it to proceed to the Department of the South,
the regiment broke camp on the 28th of May, and took cars for Boston.
After passing through the principal streets, and reaching the Common,
they prepared to receive the colors which were to be presented by the
Governor.

The regiment was formed in a hollow square, the distinguished persons
present occupying the centre. The flags were four in number, comprising
a national flag, presented by young colored ladies of Boston; a national
ensign, presented by the “Colored Ladies’ Relief Society;” an emblematic
banner, presented by ladies and gentlemen of Boston, friends of the
regiment; and a flag presented by relatives and friends of the late
Lieut. Putnam. The emblematic banner was of white silk, handsomely
embroidered, having on one side a figure of the Goddess of Justice, with
the words, “Liberty, Loyalty, and Unity,” around it. The fourth flag
bore a cross with a blue field, surmounted with the motto, “_In hoc
signo vinces._” All were of the finest texture and workmanship.

Prayer having been offered by the Rev. Mr. Grimes, Gov. Andrew presented
the various flags, with the following speech:--


PRESENTATION SPEECH OF GOV. ANDREW.

“Col. Shaw,--As the official representative of the Commonwealth, and by
favor of various ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the Commonwealth, and
friends of the Fifty-fourth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, I
have the honor and the satisfaction of being permitted to join you this
morning for the purpose of presenting to your regiment the national
flag, the State colors of Massachusetts, and the emblematic banner which
the cordial, generous, and patriotic friendship of its patrons has seen
fit to present to you.

“Two years of experience in all the trials and vicissitudes of war,
attended with the repeated exhibition of Massachusetts regiments
marching from home to the scenes of strife, have left little to be said
or suggested which could give the interest of novelty to an occasion
like this. But, Mr. Commander, one circumstance pertaining to the
composition of the Fifty-fourth Regiment, exceptional in its character
when compared with any thing we have seen before, gives to this hour
an interest and importance, solemn and yet grand, because the occasion
marks an era in the history of the war, of the Commonwealth, of the
country, and of humanity. I need not dwell upon the fact that the
enlisted men constituting the rank and file of the Fifty-fourth Regiment
of Massachusetts Volunteers are drawn from a race not hitherto connected
with the fortunes of the war. And yet I cannot forbear to allude to the
circumstance, because I can but contemplate it for a brief moment, since
it is uppermost in your thoughts, and since this regiment, which for
many months has been the desire of my own heart, is present now before
this vast assembly of friendly citizens of Massachusetts, prepared to
vindicate by its future, as it has already begun to do by its brief
history of camp-life here, to vindicate in its own person and in the
presence, I trust, of all who belong to it, the character, the manly
character, the zeal, the manly zeal, of the colored citizens of
Massachusetts and of those other States which have cast their lot with
ours. (Applause.)

“I owe to you, Mr. Commander, and to the officers who, associated with
you, have assisted in the formation of this noble corps, composed of men
selected from among their fellows for fine qualities of manhood,--I owe
to you, sir, and to those of your associates who united with me in the
original organization of this body, the heartiest and most emphatic
expression of my cordial thanks. I shall follow you, Mr. Commander, your
officers, and your men, with a friendly and personal solicitude, to say
nothing of official care, which can hardly be said of any other corps
which has marched from Massachusetts. My own personal honor, if I
have any, is identified with yours. I stand or fall, as a man and a
magistrate, with the rise or fall in the history of the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts Regiment. (Applause.) I pledge not only in behalf of
myself, but of all those whom I have the honor to represent to-day, the
utmost generosity, the utmost kindness, the utmost devotion of hearty
love, not only for the cause, but for you that represent it. We will
follow your fortunes in the camp and in the field with the anxious eyes
of brethren and the proud hearts of citizens.

“To those men of Massachusetts, and of surrounding States who have now
made themselves citizens of Massachusetts, I have no word to utter fit
to express the emotions of my heart. These men, sir, have now, in the
Providence of God, given to them an opportunity which, while it is
personal to themselves, is still an opportunity for a whole race of men.
(Applause.) With arms possessed of might to strike a blow, they have
found breathed into their hearts an inspiration of devoted patriotism,
and regard for their brethren of their own color, which has inspired
them with a purpose to nerve that arm, that it may strike a blow
which, while it shall help to raise aloft their country’s flag--_their_
country’s flag, now as well as ours--by striking down the foes which
oppose it, strikes also the last blow, I trust, needful to rend the
last shackle which binds the limb of the bondman in the rebel States.
(Applause.)

“I know not, Mr. Commander, when, in all human history, to any given
thousand men in arms there has been given a work so proud, so precious,
so full of hope and glory, as the work committed to you. (Applause.) And
may the infinite mercy of Almighty God attend you every hour of every
day, through all the experiences and vicissitude of that dangerous life
in which you have embarked! may the God of our fathers cover your heads
in the day of battle! may he shield you with the arms of everlasting
power! may he hold you always most of all, first of all, and last of
all, up to the highest and holiest conception of duty; so that if, on
the field of stricken fight, your souls shall be delivered from the
thraldom of the flesh, your spirits shall go home to God, bearing aloft
the exulting thought of duty well performed, of glory and reward won
even at the hands of the angels who shall watch over you from above!

“Mr. Commander, you, sir, and most of your officers, have been carefully
selected from among the most intelligent and experienced officers who
have already performed illustrious service upon the field during the
last two years of our national conflict. I need not say, sir, with how
much confidence and with how much pride we contemplate the leadership
which we know this regiment will receive at your hands. In yourself,
sir, your staff and line officers, we are enabled to declare a
confidence which knows no hesitation and no doubt. Whatever fortune may
betide you, we know from the past that all will be done for the honor of
the cause, for the protection of the flag, for the defence of the right,
for the glory of your country, and for the safety and the honor of these
men whom we commit to you, that shall lie either in the human heart or
brain or arm. (Applause.)

“And now, Mr. Commander, it is my most agreeable duty and high honor
to hand to you, as the representative of the Fifty-fourth Regiment of
Massachusetts Volunteers, the American flag, the star-spangled banner
of the Republic. Wherever its folds shall be unfurled, it will mark
the path of glory. Let its stars be the inspiration of yourselves, your
officers, and your men. As the gift of the young ladies of the city
of Boston to their brethren in arms, they will cherish it as the lover
cherishes the recollection and fondness of his mistress; and the white
stripes of its field will be red with their blood before it shall be
surrendered to the foe. (Applause.)

“I have also the honor, Mr. Commander, to present to you the State
colors of Massachusetts,--the State colors of the old Bay State, borne
already by fifty-three regiments of Massachusetts soldiers, white men
thus far, now to be borne by the Fifty-fourth Regiment of soldiers,
not less of Massachusetts than the others. Whatever maybe said, Mr.
Commander, of any other flag which has ever kissed the sunlight, or been
borne on any field, I have the pride and honor to be able to declare
before you, your regiment, and these witnesses, that, from the
beginning up till now, the State colors of Massachusetts have never
been surrendered to any foe. (Cheers.) The Fifty-fourth now holds in
possession this sacred charge in the performance of their duties as
citizen-soldiers. You will never part with that flag so long as a
splinter of the staff, or a thread of its web, remains within your
grasp. (Applause.) The State colors are presented to the Fifty-fourth by
the Relief Society, composed of colored ladies of Boston.

“And now let me commit to you this splendid emblematic banner. It
is prepared for your acceptance by a large and patriotic committee,
representing many others beside ladies and gentlemen of Boston, to whose
hearty sympathy, and powerful co-operation and aid, much of the success
which has hitherto attended the organization of this regiment is due.
The Goddess of Liberty, erect in beautiful guise and form (liberty,
loyalty, and unity are the emblems it bears),--the Goddess of Liberty
shall be the lady-love whose fair presence shall inspire your hearts;
liberty, loyalty, unity, the watchwords in the fight.

“And now, Mr. Commander, the sacred, holy cross, representing passion,
the highest heroism, I scarcely dare to trust myself to present to you.
It is the emblem of Christianity. I have parted with the emblems of
the State, of the nation,--heroic, patriotic emblems they are, dear,
inexpressibly dear, to all our hearts; but now, _In hoc signo vinces_,
the cross which represents the passion of our Lord, I dare to pass into
your soldier hands; for we are fighting now a battle not merely for
country, not merely for humanity, not only for civilization, but for the
religion of our Lord itself. When this cause shall ultimately fall, if
ever failure at the last shall be possible, it will only fail when the
last patriot, the last philanthropist, and the last Christian shall
have tasted death, and left no descendants behind them upon the soil of
Massachusetts. (Applause.)

“This flag, Mr. Commander, has connected with its history the most
touching and sacred memory. It comes to your regiment from the mother,
sister, friends, family relatives, of one of the dearest and noblest
soldier-boys of Massachusetts. I need not utter the name of Lieut.
Putnam in order to excite in every heart the tenderest emotions of fond
regard, or the strongest feeling of patriotic fire. May you, sir, and
these, follow not only on the field of battle, but in all the walks and
ways of life, in camp, and hereafter, when, on returning peace, you
shall resume the more quiet and peaceful duties of citizens,--may you
but follow the splendid example, the sweet devotion mingled with manly,
heroic character, of which the life, character, and death of Lieut.
Putnam was one example! How many more there are we know not: the record
is not yet complete; but, oh! how many there are of these Massachusetts
sons, who, like him, have tasted death for this immortal cause! Inspired
by such examples, fired by the heat and light of love and faith which
illumined and warmed these heroic and noble hearts, may you, sir, and
these, march on to glory, to victory, and to every honor! This flag I
present to you, Mr. Commander, and your regiment. _In hoc signo vinces_


RESPONSE OF COL. SHAW.

“_Your Excellency_,--We accept these flags with feelings of deep
gratitude. They will remind us not only of the cause we are fighting
for, and of our country, but of the friends we have left behind us, who
have thus far taken so much interest in this regiment, and who, we know,
will follow us in our career. Though the greater number of men in this
regiment are not Massachusetts men, I know there is not one who will not
be proud to fight and serve under our flag. May we have an opportunity
to show that you have not made a mistake in intrusting the honor of the
State to a colored regiment!--the first State that has sent one to the
war.

“I am very glad to have this opportunity to thank the officers and men
of the regiment for their untiring fidelity and devotion to their work
from the very beginning. They have shown that sense of the importance of
our undertaking, without which we should hardly have attained our end.
(Applause)”

At the conclusion of Col. Shaw’s remarks, the colors were borne to their
place in the line by the guard, and the regiment was reviewed by the
Governor. Thence they marched out of the Common, down Tremont Street,
down Court Street, by the Court House, chained hardly a decade ago to
save slavery and the Union. Thence down State Street, trampling on
the very pavement over which Sims and Burns marched to their fate,
encompassed by soldiers of the United States.

“Their sisters, sweethearts, and wives”--a familiar quotation in the
notices of previous departing regiments, but looking a little odd
in this new place--ran along beside “the boys,” giving their parting
benediction of smiles and tears, telling them to be brave, and to show
their blood.

They marched in good time, and wheeled with a readiness which showed
that they had a clear idea of what was required, and only needed a
little more practice to equal the best regiments that left the State.

The regiment marched down State Street at a quarter past twelve o’clock
to the tune of “John Brown,” and was vociferously cheered by the vast
crowds that covered the sidewalks and filled the windows. Nowhere was
the reception of the regiment more hearty.

All attempts to express the feeling of the crowd or the soldiers seem to
read stale and flat. Yet, as Goldsmith said that the weakest jokes were
received as wit by the circle of the happy vicar, so these attempts
were treated as successes by the happy crowd. One man said it was a
verification of Shakspeare:--

                        “Know you not _Pompey?_

               You have climbed up to the walls and battlements

               To see _Great Pompey_ pass the streets of Rome.”

One fact should be chronicled. Their regimental banner, of superb white
silk had on one side the coat-of-anns of Massachusetts, and on the other
a golden cross on a golden star, with _In hoc Signo Vinces_ beneath.
_This is the first Christian banner that has gone into our war_. By a
strange, and yet not strange, providence, God has made this despised
race the bearers of his standard. They are thus the real leaders of the
nation.

On reaching the wharf at a quarter before one, every thing had been
placed on board through the efforts of Capt. McKim; the guns were placed
in boxes, the horses put aboard, and the men began to embark. At four
o’clock, the vessel steamed down the harbor, bound for Port Royal, S.C.


THE COMPLETE ROSTER OF THE REGIMENT.

Colonel.--Robert G. Shaw.

Lieut.-Colonel.--Norwood P. Hallowell.

Major.--Edward N. Hallowed.

Surgeon.--Lincoln R. Stone.

Assistant Surgeon.--C. B. Brigham.

Captains.--Alfred S. Hartwell, David A. Partridge, Samuel Willard, John
W. M. Appleton, Watson W. Bridge, George Pope, William II. Simpkins,
Cabot J. Russell, Edward L. Jones, and Louis F. Emilo.

1st. Lieutenants.--John Ritchie, Garth W. James, William H. Hemans, Grin
E. Smith, Erik Wulff, Walter H. Wild, Francis L. Higginson, James M.
Walton, James M. Grace, R. K. L. Jewett.

2d Lieutenants.--Thomas L. Appleton, Benjamin F. Dexter, J. Albert
Pratt, Charles F. Smith, Henry W. Littlefield, William Nutt, David Reid,
Charles E. Tucker, and William Howard.

Many of the men in the Fifty-Fourth had once been slaves at the South;
some had enjoyed freedom for years; others had escaped after the
breaking out of the Rebellion. Most of them had relatives still there,
and had a double object in joining the regiment. They were willing to
risk their lives for the freedom of those left behind; and, if they
failed in that, they might, at least, have an opportunity of settling
with the “ole boss” for a long score of cruelty.

               “From many a Southern field they trembling came,

               Fled from the lash, the fetter, and the chain”;

                   Return they now, not at base Slavery’s claim,

               To meet the oppressor on the battle-plain.”

“The following song was written by a private in Company A, Fifty-Fourth
(colored) Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteers, and has been sent to us
for publication by a friend of the regiment.”--Boston Transcript.

                        “Air.--‘Hoist up the Flag.’

               “Fremont told them, when the war it first begun,

               How to save the Union, and the way it should be done;

               But Kentucky swore so hard, and old Abe he had his fears,

               Till every hope was lost but the colored volunteers.


               Chorus.--Oh! give us a flag all free without a slave,

               We’ll fight to defend it as our fathers did so brave:

               The gallant Comp’ny A will make the rebels dance;

               And we’ll stand by the Union, if we only have a chance.


               McClellan went to Richmond with two hundred thousand brave:

               He said, ‘keep back the niggers,’ and the Union he would save.

               Little Mac he had his way, still the Union is in tears:

               Now they call for the help of the colored volunteers.

                   Chor.--Oh! give us a flag, &c.


               Old Jeff says he’ll hang us if we dare to meet him armed:

               A very big thing, but we are not at all alarmed;

               For he first has got to catch us before the way is clear,

               And ‘that’s what’s the matter’ with the colored volunteer.

                   Chor.--Oh! give us a flag, &c.


               So rally, boys, rally, let us never mind the past:

               We had a hard road to travel, but our day is coming fast;

               For God is for the right, and we have no need to fear:

               The Union must be saved by the colored volunteer.

                   Chor.--Oh! give us a flag, &c.”



CHAPTER XXI--BLACKS UNDER FIRE IN SOUTH CAROLINA.


_Expedition up the St. Mary’s River.--The Negroes Long for a
Fight.--Their Gallantry in Battle._


The Department of the South, under Major-Gen. Hunter, was the first in
which the negro held the musket. By consent of the commanding-general, I
give the following interesting report from Col. T. W. Higginson:--

“On Board Steamer ‘Rex Deford,’ Sunday, Feb. 1, 1863.

“_Brig-Gen. Saxton, Military Governor, &c_.

“_General_,--I have the honor to report the safe return of the
expedition under my command, consisting of four hundred and sixty-two
officers and men of the First Regiment of South-Carolina Volunteers, who
left Beaufort on Jan. 23, on board the steamers: John Adams,’ ‘Planter,’
and ‘Ben Deford.’

“The expedition has carried the regimental flag and the President’s
proclamation far into the interior of Georgia and Florida. The men
have been repeatedly under fire; have had infantry, cavalry, and even
artillery, arrayed against them; and have, in every instance, come
off, not only with unblemished honor, but with undisputed triumph. At
Township, Fla., a detachment of the expedition fought a cavalry company
which met us unexpectedly, on a midnight march through pine woods, and
which completely surrounded us. They were beaten off with a loss on
our part of one man killed and seven wounded; while the opposing party
admits twelve men killed (including Lieut. Jones, in command of the
company), besides many wounded. So complete was our victory, that the
enemy scattered, hid in the woods all night, not returning to his camp,
which was five miles distant, until noon next day; a fact which was
unfortunately unknown until too late to follow up our advantage. Had I
listened to the urgent appeals of my men, and pressed the flying enemy,
we could have destroyed his camp; but, in view of the darkness, his
uncertain numbers and swifter motions, with your injunctions of caution,
I judged it better to rest satisfied with the victory already gained.

“On another occasion, a detachment of about two hundred and fifty men,
on board the ‘John Adams,’ fought its way forty miles up and down a
river, the most dangerous in the department,--the St. Mary’s; a river
left untraversed by our gunboats for many months, as it required a boat
built like the ‘John Adams’ to ascend it successfully. The stream is
narrow, swift, winding, and bordered at many places with high bluffs,
which blazed with rifle-shots. With our glasses, as we approached these
points, we could see mounted men by the hundreds galloping through the
woods, from point to point, to await us; and, though fearful of our shot
and shell, they were so daring against musketry, that one rebel actually
sprang from the shore upon the large boat which was towed at our stern,
where he was shot down by one of my sergeants. We could see our shell
scatter the rebels as they fell among them, and some terrible execution
must have been done; but not a man of this regiment was killed or
wounded, though the steamer is covered with bullet-marks, one of which
shows where our brave Capt. Clifton, commander of the vessel, fell dead
beside his own pilot-house, shot through the brain by a Minie-ball.
Major Strong, who stood beside him, escaped as if by magic, both of
them being unnecessarily exposed without my knowledge. The secret of our
safety was in keeping the regiment below, except the gunners; but this
required the utmost energy of the officers, as the men were wild to
come on deck, and even implored to be landed on shore, and charge on the
enemy. Nobody knows any thing about these men who has not seen them in
battle. I find that I myself knew nothing. There is a fiery energy about
them beyond any thing of which I have ever read, unless it be the French
Zouaves. It requires the strictest discipline to hold them in hand.
During our first attack on the river, before I got them all penned
below, they crowded at the open ends of the steamer, loading and firing
with inconceivable rapidity, and shouting to each other, ‘Never give it
up!’ When collected into the hold, they actually fought each other for
places at the few port-holes from which they could fire on the enemy.

“Meanwhile, the black gunners, admirably trained by Lieuts. Stockdale
and O’Neil (both being accomplished artillerists), and Mr. Heron, of the
gunboat, did their duty without the slightest protection, and with great
coolness, amid a storm of shot.

“No officer in this regiment now doubts that the key to the successful
prosecution of this war lies in the unlimited employment of black
troops. Their superiority lies simply in the fact that they know the
country, which white troops do not; and, moreover, that they have
peculiarities of temperament, position, and motive, which belong to them
alone. Instead of leaving their homes and families to fight, they are
fighting for their homes and families; and they show the resolution and
sagacity which a personal purpose gives. It would have been madness
to attempt with the bravest white troops what I have successfully
accomplished with black ones.

“Every thing, even to the piloting of the vessel, and the selection of
the proper points for cannonading, was done by my own soldiers; indeed,
the real conductor of the whole expedition at the St. Mary’s was
Corporal Robert Sutton, of Company G, formerly a slave upon the St.
Mary’s River; a man of extraordinary qualities, who needs nothing but a
knowledge of the alphabet to entitle him to the most signal promotion.
In every instance where I followed his advice, the predicted result
followed; and I never departed from it, however slightly, without having
reason for subsequent regret.

“I have the honor to be, &c.,

“T. W. HIGGINSON,

“_Col. Com. First Regiment South-Carolina Vols._”



CHAPTER XXII--FREEDMEN UNDER FIRE IN MISSISSIPPI.


_Bravery of the Freedmen.--Desperation of the Rebels.--Severe Battle.
Negroes Triumphant._


While the people along the banks of the Mississippi, above New Orleans,
were discussing the question as to whether the negro would fight, if
attacked by white men, or not. Col. Daniels, of the Second Regiment
Louisiana Volunteers, gave one side of the subject considerable of a
“hist,” on the 9th of April, 1863. His official report will speak for
itself.

“Headquarters, Ship Island (Miss.), April 11, 1863.

“_Brig.-Gen. Sherman, commanding Defences of New Orleans_.

“_Sir_,--In compliance with instructions from your headquarters, to keep
you promptly informed of any movements that the enemy might be known
to be making up the Mississippi Sound, upon learning that repeated
demonstrations had been made in the direction of Pascagoula, by
Confederate troops ashore, and in armed boats along the coast; and,
furthermore, having reliable information that the greater part of the
forces at Mobile were being sent to re-enforce Charleston, I determined
to make a reconnoissance within the enemy’s lines, at or near
Pascagoula, for the purpose of not only breaking up their
demonstrations, but of creating a diversion of the Mobile forces from
Charleston, and precipitating them along the Sound; and accordingly
embarked with a detachment of a hundred and eighty men of my command on
United-States Transport ‘General Banks,’ on the morning of the 9th of
April, 1863, and made for Pascagoula, Miss., where we arrived about nine
o’clock, a.m., landed, and took possession of wharf and hotel, hoisted
the stars and stripes upon the building, threw out pickets, and sent
small detachments in various directions to take possession of the place,
and hold the roads leading from the same. Immediately thereafter, a
force of over three hundred Confederate cavalry came down the Mobile
Road, drove in the pickets, and attacked the squad on the left, from
whom they received a warm reception. They then fell back in some
confusion, re-formed, and made a dash upon the detachment stationed
at the hotel, at which point they were again repulsed; Confederate
infantry, meanwhile, attacking my forces on the extreme left, and
forcing a small detachment to occupy a wharf, from which they poured
volley after volley into the enemy’s ranks, killing and wounding many,
with a loss of one man only. The fight had now extended along the road
from the river to the wharf, the enemy being under cover of the houses
and forest; whilst my troops were, from the nature of the ground,
unavoidably exposed. The Confederates had placed their women and
children in front of their houses, for a cover, and even armed
their citizens, and forced them to fight against us. After an hour’s
continuous skirmishing, the enemy retreated to the woods, and my forces
fell back to the hotel and wharf. Then the enemy sallied forth again,
with apparently increased numbers, attempting to surround the hotel, and
obtain possession of the wharf; but they were again repulsed, and driven
back to their cover,--the forest. It was here that Lieut. Jones, with a
detachment of only seven men, having been placed on the extreme right,
cut his way through a large force of the enemy’s cavalry, and arrived at
the hotel without losing a man, but killing and wounding a considerable
number of the enemy.

“After continuous fighting, from ten o’clock, a.m., to two o’clock,
p.m., and on learning that heavy re-enforcements of infantry and
artillery had arrived from the camps up the Pascagoula River, I withdrew
my forces from the hotel, and returned to Ship Island. The enemy’s
loss was over twenty killed, and a large number wounded. From my own
knowledge, and from information derived from prisoners taken in the
fight, and from refugees since arrived, the enemy had over four hundred
cavalry and infantry at Pascagoula, and heavy re-enforcements within
six miles of the place. Refugees who have arrived since the engagement
report the enemy’s loss as greater than mentioned in my first report.

“The expedition was a perfect success, accomplishing all that was
intended; resulting in the repulse of the enemy in every engagement with
great loss; whilst our casualty was only two killed and eight wounded.
Great credit is due to the troops engaged, for their unflinching
bravery and steadiness under this their first fire, exchanging volley
after volley with the coolness of veterans; and for their determined
tenacity in maintaining their position, and taking advantage of every
success that their courage and valor gave them; and also to their
officers, who were cool and determined throughout the action, fighting
their commands against five times their numbers, and confident
throughout of success,--all demonstrating to its fullest extent that the
oppression which they have heretofore undergone from the hands of their
foes, and the obloquy that had been showered upon them by those who
should have been friends, had not extinguished their manhood, or
suppressed their bravery, and that they had still a hand to wield the
sword, and a heart to vitalize its blow.

“I would particularly call the attention of the Department to Major
F. E. Dumas, Capt. Villeverd, and Lieuts. Jones and Martin, who were
constantly in the thickest of the fight, and by their unflinching
bravery, and admirable handling of their commands, contributed to the
success of the attack, and reflected great honor upon the flag under
and for which they so nobly struggled. Repeated instances of individual
bravery among the troops might be mentioned; but it would be invidious
where all fought so manfully aud so well.

“I have the honor to be, most respectfully,

“Your obedient servant,

“_N. U. DANIELS,_

“_Col. Second Regiment La. N. O. Vols., Commanding Post._”



CHAPTER XXIII--BATTLE OF PORT HUDSON.


_The Louisiana Native Guard.--Capt. Callioux.--The Weather.--Spirit of
the Troops.--The Battle begins.--“Charge.”--Great Bravery.--The
Gallant Color-bearer.--Grape, Canister, and Shell sweep down the Heroic
Men.--Death of Callioux.--Comments._


On the 26th of May, 1863, the wing of the array under Major-Gen. Banks
was brought before the rifle-pits and heavy guns of Port Hudson. Night
fell--the lovely Southern night--with its silvery moonshine on the
gleaming waters of the Mississippi, that passed directly by the
intrenched town. The glistening stars appeared suspended in the upper
air as globes of liquid light, while the fresh soft breeze was bearing
such sweet scents from the odoriferous trees and plants, that a poet
might have fancied angelic spirits were abroad, making the atmosphere
luminous with their pure presence, and every breeze fragrant with
their luscious breath. The deep-red sun that rose on the next morning
indicated that the day would be warm; and, as it advanced, the heat
became intense. The earth had been long parched, and the hitherto green
verdure had begun to turn yellow. Clouds of dust followed every step and
movement of the troops. The air was filled with dust: clouds gathered,
frowned upon the earth, and hastened away.

The weatherwise watched the red masses of the morning, and still hoped
for a shower to cool the air, and lay the dust, before the work of death
commenced; but none came, and the very atmosphere seemed as if it were
from an overheated oven. The laying-aside of all unnecessary articles
or accoutrements, and the preparation that showed itself on every side,
told all present that the conflict was near at hand. Gen. Dwight, whose
antecedents with regard to the rights of the negro, and his ability
to fight, were not of the most favorable character, was the officer
in command over the colored brigade; and busy Rumor, that knows every
thing, had whispered it about that the valor of the black man was to be
put to the severest test that day.

The black forces consisted of the First Louisiana, under Lieut-Col.
Bassett, and the Third Louisiana, under Col. Nelson. The line-officers
of the Third were White; and the regiment was composed mostly of
freedmen, many of whose backs still bore the marks of the lash, and
whose brave, stout hearts beat high at the thought that the hour had
come when they were to meet their proud and unfeeling oppressors. The
First was the noted regiment called “The Native Guard,” which Gen.
Butler found when he entered New Orleans, and which so promptly offered
its services to aid in crushing the Rebellion. The line-officers of
this regiment were all colored, taken from amongst the most wealthy and
influential of the free colored people of New Orleans. It was said that
not one of them was worth less than twenty-five thousand dollars. The
brave, the enthusiastic, and the patriotic, found full scope for the
development of their powers in this regiment, of which all were well
educated; some were fine scholars. One of the most efficient officers
was Capt. André Callioux, a man whose identity with his race could not
be mistaken; for he prided himself on being the blackest man in the
Crescent City. Whether in the drawing-room or on the parade, he was ever
the centre of attraction. Finely educated, polished in his manners, a
splendid horseman, a good boxer, bold, athletic, and daring, he never
lacked admirers. His men were ready at any time to follow him to
the cannon’s mouth; and he was as ready to lead them. This regiment
petitioned their commander to allow them to occupy the post of danger in
the battle, and it was granted.

As the moment of attack drew near, the greatest suppressed excitement
existed; but all were eager for the fight. Capt. Callioux walked proudly
up and down the line, and smilingly greeted the familiar faces of his
company. Officers and privates of the white regiments looked on as they
saw these men at the front, and asked each other what they thought would
be the result. Would these blacks stand fire? Was not the test by which
they were to be tried too severe? Col. Nelson being called to act as
brigadier-general, Lieut-Col. Finnegas took his place. The enemy In his
stronghold felt his power, and bade defiance to the expected attack. At
last the welcome word was given, and our men started. The enemy opened a
blistering fire of shell, canister, grape, and musketry. The first shell
thrown by the enemy killed and wounded a number of the blacks; but on
they went. “Charge” was the word.

                   Charge!” Trump and drum awoke:

                   Onward the bondmen broke;

                   Bayonet and sabre-stroke

                   Vainly opposed their rush.”

At every pace, the column was thinned by the falling dead and wounded.
The blacks closed up steadily as their comrades fell, and advanced
within fifty paces of where the rebels were working a masked battery,
situated on a bluff where the guns could sweep the whole field over
which the troops must charge. This battery was on the left of the
charging line. Another battery of three or four guns commanded the
front, and six heavy pieces raked the right of the line as it formed,
and enfiladed its flank and rear as it charged on the bluff. It was
ascertained that a bayou ran under the bluff where the guns lay,--a
bayou deeper than a man could ford. This charge was repulsed with
severe loss. Lieut-Col. Finnegas was then ordered to charge, and in a
well-dressed steady line his men went on the doublequick down over the
field of death. No matter how gallantly the men behaved, no matter how
bravely they were led, it was not in the course of things that this
gallant brigade should take these works by charge. Yet charge after
charge was ordered and carried out under all these disasters with
Spartan firmness. Six charges in all were made. Col. Nelson reported to
Gen. Dwight the fearful odds he had to contend with. Says Gen. Dwight,
in reply, “Tell Col. Nelson I shall consider that he has accomplished
nothing unless he take those guns.” Humanity will never forgive Gen.
Dwight for this last order; for he certainly saw that he was only
throwing away the lives of his men. But what were his men? “Only
niggers.” Thus the last charge was made under the spur of desperation.

The ground was already strewn with the dead and wounded, and many of the
brave officers had fallen early in the engagement. Among them was the
gallant and highly cultivated Anselmo. He was a standardbearer, and
hugged the stars and stripes to his heart as he fell forward upon
them pierced by five balls. Two corporals near by struggled between
themselves as to who should have the honor of again raising those
bloodstained emblems to the breeze. Each was eager for the honor; and
during the struggle a missile from the enemy wounded one of them, and
the other corporal shouldered the dear old flag in triumph, and bore it
through the charge in the front of the advancing lines.

                   “Now,” the flag-sergeant cried,

                   “Though death and hell betide,

                   Let the whole nation see

                   If we are fit to be

                   Free in this land, or bound

                   Down, like the whining hound,--

                   Bound with red stripes aud pain

                   In our old chains again.”

                   Oh! what a shout there went

                   From the black regiment!

Shells from the rebel guns cut down trees three feet in diameter, and
they fell, at one time burying a whole company beneath their branches.
Thus they charged bravely on certain destruction, till the ground was
slippery with the gore of the slaughtered, and cumbered with the bodies
of the maimed. The last charge was made about one o’clock. At this
juncture, Capt. Callioux was seen with his left arm dangling by his
side,--for a ball had broken it above the elbow,--while his right hand
held his unsheathed sword gleaming in the rays of the sun; and his
hoarse, faint voice was heard cheering on his men. A moment more, and
the brave and generous Callioux was struck by a shell, and fell far in
advance of his company. The fall of this officer so exasperated his men,
that they appeared to be filled with new enthusiasm; and they rushed
forward with a recklessness that probably has never been surpassed.
Seeing it to be a hopeless effort, the taking of these batteries, order
was given to change the programme; and the troops were called off. But
had they accomplished any thing more than the loss of many of their
brave men? Yes: they had. The self-forgetfulness, the undaunted heroism,
and the great endurance of the negro, as exhibited that day, created a
new chapter in American history for the colored man.

Many Persians were slain at the battle of Thermopylæ; but history
records only the fall of Leonidas and his four hundred companions. So
in the future, when we shall have passed away from the stage, and
rising generations shall speak of the conflict at Port Hudson, and the
celebrated charge of the negro brigade, they will forget all others in
their admiration for André Callioux and his colored associates. Gen.
Banks, in his report of the battle of Port Hudson, says, “Whatever doubt
may have existed heretofore as to the efficiency of organizations of
this character, the history of this day proves conclusively to those who
were in a condition to observe the conduct of these regiments, that the
Government will find in this class of troops effective supporters
and defenders. The severe test to which they were subjected, and the
determined manner in which they encountered the enemy, leaves upon my
mind no doubt of their ultimate success.”

Hon. B. F. Flanders paid them the following tribute:--

“The unanimous report of all those who were in the recent battle at Port
Hudson, in regard to the negroes, is, that they fought like devils. They
have completely conquered the prejudice of the army against them. Never
before was there such an extraordinary revolution of sentiment as that
of this army in respect to the negroes as soldiers.”

This change was indeed needed; for only a few days previous to the
battle, while the regiments were at Baton Rouge, the line-officers of
the New-England troops, either through jealousy or hatred to the
colored men on account of their complexion, demanded that the latter,
as officers, should be dismissed. And, to the disgrace of these white
officers, the colored men, through the mean treatment of their superiors
in office, the taunts and jeers of their white assailants, were
compelled to throw up their commissions. The colored soldiers were
deeply pained at seeing the officers of their own color and choice taken
from them; for they were much attached to their commanders, some of whom
were special favorites with the whole regiment. Among these were First
Lieut. Joseph Howard of Company I, and Second Lieut. Joseph G. Parker,
of Company C. These gentlemen were both possessed of ample wealth, and
had entered the army, not as a matter of speculation, as too many have
done, but from a love of military life. Lieut. Howard was a man of more
than ordinary ability in military tactics; and a braver or more daring
officer could not be found in the Valley of the Mississippi. He was well
educated, speaking the English, French, and Spanish languages fluently,
and was considered a scholar of rare literary attainments. He, with his
friend Parker, felt sorely the humiliation attending their dismissal
from the army, and seldom showed themselves on the streets of their
native city, to which they had returned. When the news reached New
Orleans of the heroic charge made by the First Louisiana Regiment, at
Port Hudson, on the 27th of May, Howard at once called on Parker;
and they were so fired with the intelligence, that they determined to
proceed to Port Hudson, and to join their old regiment as _privates_.
That night they took passage, and the following day found them with
their former friends in arms. The regiment was still in position close
to the enemy’s works, and the appearance of the two lieutenants was
hailed with demonstrations of joy. Instead of being placed as privates
in the ranks, they were both immediately assigned the command of a
company each, not from any compliment to them, but from sheer necessity,
because the _white officers_ of these companies, feeling that the
colored soldiers were put in the front of the battle owing to their
complexion, were not willing to risk their lives, and had thrown up
their commissions.

On the 5th of June, these two officers were put to the test, and nobly
did they maintain their former reputation for bravery. Capt. Howard
leading the way, they charged upon the rebel’s rifle-pits, drove them
out, and took possession, and held them for three hours, in the face of
a raking fire of artillery. Several times the blacks were so completely
hidden from view by the smoke of their own guns and the enemy’s heavy
cannon, that they could not be seen. It was at this time, that Capt.
Howard exhibited his splendid powers as a commander. The negroes never
hesitated. Amid the roar of artillery, and the rattling of musketry,
the groans of the wounded, and the ghastly appearance of the dead, the
heroic and intrepid Howard was the same. He never said to his men, “Go,”
 but always, “Follow me.” At last, when many of their men were killed,
and the severe fire of the enemy’s artillery seemed to mow down every
thing before it, these brave men were compelled to fall back from the
pits which they had so triumphantly taken. At nightfall, Gen. Banks paid
the negro officers a high compliment, shaking the hand of Capt. Howard,
and congratulating him on his return, and telling his aides that this
man was worthy of a more elevated position.

Although the First Louisiana had done well, its great triumph was
reserved for the 14th of June, when Capt. Howard and his associates in
arms won for themselves immortal renown. Never, in the palmy days of
Napoleon, Wellington, or any other general, was more true heroism shown.
The effect of the battle of the 27th of May, is thus described in “The
New-York Herald,” June 6:--

“The First Regiment Louisiana Native Guard, Col. Nelson, were in this
charge. _They went on the advance, and, when they came out, six hundred
out of nine hundred men could not be accounted for. It is said on every
side that they fought with the desperation of tigers_. One negro was
observed with a rebel soldier in his grasp, tearing the flesh from his
face with his teeth, other weapons having failed him. There are other
incidents connected with the conduct of this regiment _that have raised
them very much in my opinion as soldiers. After firing one volley, they
did not deign to load again, but went in with bayonets; and, wherever
they had a chance, it was all up with the rebels.”_

From “The New-York Tribune,” June 8:--

“Nobly done, First Regiment of Louisiana Native Guard! though you failed
to carry the rebel works against overwhelming numbers, you did not
charge and fight and fall in vain. That heap of six hundred corpses,
lying there dark and grim and silent before and within the rebel works,
is a better proclamation of freedom than even President Lincoln’s. A
race ready to die thus was never yet retained in bondage, and never can
be. Even the Wood copperheads, who will not fight themselves, and try to
keep others out of the Union ranks, will not dare to mob negro regiments
if this is their style of fighting.

“Thus passes one regiment of blacks to death and everlasting fame.”

Humanity should not forget, that, at the surrender of Port Hudson, not a
single colored man could be found alive, although thirty-five were known
to have been taken prisoners during the siege. All had been murdered.



CHAPTER XXIV--GENERAL BANKS IN LOUISIANA.


_Gen. Banks at New Orleans.--Old Slave-laws revived.--Treatment of Free
Colored Persons.--Col. Jonas H. French.--Ill Treatment at Port Hudson._


Gen. Banks’s antecedents were unfavorable to him when he landed in New
Orleans. True, he was from Massachusetts, and was a Republican; but he
belonged to the conservative portion of the party. The word “white” in
the militia law, which had so long offended the good taste and better
judgment of the majority of the people, was stricken out during the last
term of Gov. Banks’s administration, but failed to receive his sanction.
In his message vetoing the bill, he resorted to a laborious effort of
special pleading to prove that the negro was not a citizen. The fact
is, he was a Democrat dressed up in Republican garments. Gen. Butler
had brought the whites and blacks nearly to a level with each other as
citizens of New Orleans, when he was succeeded by Gen. Banks. The latter
at once began a system of treatment to the colored people, which showed
that his feelings were with the whites, and against the blacks. The
old slave-law, requiring colored persons to be provided with passes to
enable them to be out from their homes after half-past eight o’clock at
night was revived by Gen. Banks’s understrappers, as the following will
show:--

“_St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans, Jan. 25._

“On Tuesday evening last, at half-past eight o’clock, while passing up
St. Charles Street in company with F. S. Schell, Esq., the artist of
‘Frank Leslie’s Pictorial,’, who is attached to the Banks Expedition,
I was suddenly accosted by two colored women, one of whom, a beautiful
mulatto very tastily attired, besought me to protect her from the
watchmen, who, she said, were following close behind her on the opposite
side of the street, and were about to arrest her and her mother for
being out without passes.

“I offered her and her mother all the protection in my power until they
should reach their home, which was but a few blocks distant; and I had
but scarcely made the proffer, when two powerful and muscular watchmen
came running across the street, club in hand, and at once proceeded
to arrest the women. I inquired of the officers by what authority they
arrested slaves or free colored people. They informed me that they were
acting under orders received from the chief of police, Col. Jonas H.
French.

“The women begged, with tears in their eyes, for their liberty, that
they might return to their homes, where a sister was lying dangerously
ill, and towards whom they were hastening when seized by the watchmen.
Being enough of a ‘Yankee abolitionist’ to feel a glow of indignation
at this flagrant violation of human rights, and, as I supposed, illegal
assumption of power, I proceeded to the prison or watch-house, adjoining
the city hall, from the roof of which flies the flag of freedom.

“What a sight was revealed to me on my visit to that prison! Such a
scene may I never be permitted to visit again! Securing permission, I
went into the corridor, from which lead the cells. There I saw, in one
cell, fifteen feet by twenty feet, fifty colored women and girls packed
like so many cattle: there were six or eight wooden berths, with _pine
mattresses_ and _oak pillows_, for these poor creatures to rest their
limbs upon. Of course, the most of them were obliged to stand uprightly,
or lie upon the wet flooring of the cell.

“I never shall forget the emotions that arose within my bosom as I stood
intently gazing upon the sorrowing faces of these unfortunates as they
cast wistful glances through the heavy iron bars of their cell, and in
supplicating tones implored me to secure them their release. One pretty
young girl of fifteen, with a beautiful face, whose complexion was
that of a pretty Boston brunette, and with long flowing hair, slightly
crimpled, was sobbing as though her heart would break for her mother.
She was terrified at the surroundings of her new position, and the
hideous yells of drunken soldiers and sailors in the next cell.

“There were confined in this cell several women, who, in New York or
Boston, would pass for white women without the slightest difficulty or
suspicion. And there were many darker countenances in that cell, that
were intelligent, and indicated the existence and beating of hearts
beneath those tinged and sable hues. In the opposite cells were over one
hundred colored men and boys of all colors, from the ebony, thick-lipped
African, to the mulatto, and delicately-tinged colored man. They were
there from all ages, from the little child of nine years, to the aged
and decrepit negro of seventy-five. There were the dandy darkey, slave
and free; the laborer, slave and free; the mechanic and waiter, slave
and free.

“Some of these men were the fathers, husbands, and brothers of the women
in the opposite cells. It was but a little while after, when, the jailer
having barred the door which leads into the stone corridor, I heard
distinctly the swelling notes of ‘John Brown’s body lies mouldering,’
&c., and shortly after the grand chorus of an ancient Methodist hymn,
‘For Jesus’ sake, we’ll serve the Lord.’ The next evening, I visited the
cells, and found that nearly all who had been imprisoned the previous
evening had been released on paying a fine of one dollar and a quarter
for free people, and one dollar and a half for slaves.

“There were several likely-looking negro-girls still in the cell, and
three mothers. All of these mothers had sons in the Union army, enlisted
in the colored Native-Guard Regiment. One of them had _three_ sons in
one regiment; the other had two sons, her only children; and the only
child of the third, a boy of nineteen years, was a sergeant in a colored
company. These mothers were all the _property_ of rebels; for they told
me their masters and mistresses swore they would ‘never take the oath
of allegiance to the abolition Yankee Government.’ I asked them how
they happened to be imprisoned, and was informed that their masters and
mistresses had them ‘sent to prison for safe-keeping.’

“One mother told me she was always treated well until her sons joined
the negro regiment, since which time she had been whipped and otherwise
sadly abused. She was not allowed so much liberty at home, and her
mistress had put her off on a short allowance of food, because she did
not prevent her sons from enlisting.

“Here is a verbatim copy of the official order requiring the arrest by
the police of all colored people found in the streets. Beyond the simple
written notice, nothing more has been made public in regard to this
important matter:--

“_Office Chief of Police._

“‘_Lieut. J. Duan_,--You are hereby ordered to arrest all negroes out
without passes after half past eight, P.M.

“‘By order of

“‘Col. J. H. French,

“‘_Provost-marshal General and Chief of Police._’”

“Notices of this kind were sent to all the station-houses, and were
posted in the offices. It is a most despotic law to put in force at such
an hour as this, to protect the property, in the shape of human flesh
and blood, in God’s creatures, belonging or _owned_, as they say, by the
very fiends who have no compulsion at shedding the precious life’s blood
of our sons and brothers, husbands and fathers.

“We, who profess to be Christian people, contributing blood and treasure
for the suppression of this cursed Rebellion, are now called upon to
provide cells for the safekeeping of their slaves.”--_Correspondence of
The Boston Traveller._

The following private letter (says “The New-York Tribune”) from a
colored man in New Orleans, cancelling an order he had previous sent to
New York for a banner, may throw some light on the state of things in
the Southern metropolis:--

“Sir,--If you have not had the banner commenced, it is useless to have
it made at all, as, since the issuing of the President’s proclamation,
Jonas H. French has stopped all of our night-meetings, and has caused us
to get permits to hold meetings on Sunday, and sends his police around
to all of the colored churches every Sunday to examine all of the
permits. He had all the slaves that were turned out of their former
owners’ yards rearrested and sent back; those who belonged to rebels as
well as those who belong to loyal persons. The slaves were mustered
into the rebel army. He has them confined in jail to starve and die,
and refuses their friends to see them. He is much worse than our rebel
masters, he being the chief of police. Last night, after Gen. Banks left
the city, Col. French issued a secret order to all the police-stations
to arrest all the negroes who may be found in the streets, and at the
places of amusement, and placed in jail. There were about five
hundred, both free and slave, confined, without the least notice
or cause,--persons who thought themselves free by the President’s
proclamation, from the parishes of Natchitoches, Ouachita, Rapides,
Catahoula, Concordia, Aragules, Jaques, Iberville, West Baton Rouge,
Point Coupee, Filiciana, East Baton Rouge, St. Helena, Washington, St.
Samany. Free persons of color from any of these parishes, who are found
within the limits of the city, are immediately arrested and placed in
jail by order of Col. French. Therefore it is useless to have the banner
made, as there is no use for it since Gen. Butler has left. R. K. T.”

All colored persons, even those who had been born free, and had
resided in the city from infancy, were included in the order of the
provost-marshal. It is a fact beyond dispute, that both officers and
soldiers under Gen. Banks’s rule in Louisiana manifested a degree of
negro hate that was almost unknown before their advent.

At the siege of Port Hudson, this prejudice against the blacks was
exhibited by all, from Gen. Banks down to the most ignorant private. A
correspondent in “The Boston Commonwealth,” dated at Port Hudson, July
17, 1864, says,--

“Thus, in the siege of Port Hudson, no one knew an instance of such
terrible assaults, without possibility of success, but only repeated
in obedience to Gen. Dwight’s order to ‘continue charging till further
orders.’ The white troops were unanimous in praising the valor of
this devoted regiment. How was it when the provisions of Paragraph 11,
Appendix B, Revised Army Regulations, 1863, were carried out? A General
Order from Gen. Banks authorizes ‘Port Hudson’ to be inscribed on every
banner but those of the colored regiments, which are _overlooked_. Do
those people who speak so loudly in praise of these regiments at Port
Hudson know they are the only ones not authorized to inscribe ‘Port
Hudson’ on their flags? Does _Adjutant-Gen. Thomas_ know it? The
only inscription on the banner of the glorious Seventy-third is the
blood-stain of the noble sergeant who bore it in this fierce assault,
and the rents made in the struggle of the corporals to obtain the dear
rag from the dying man who had rolled himself up in its fold. Regiments
which were ridiculed as cowards and vagabonds have Port Hudson on their
flags. Let us be cautious how we praise the First Native Guards: they
have it not on their flag. Thank God there were thousands of honest
privates in the ranks of the white regiments who will tell the story
of the First Native Guards! The changes of its designation and
consolidation with other regiments will not entirely obliterate its
fame. The blood of the heroic Callioux and his fellow-victims at Port
Hudson will cry to Heaven, and will be heard.

“And how has it run in the campaign of 1864? This same devoted regiment
followed the army of Gen. Banks to Pleasant Hill; but Fort Pillow rushed
red on the general’s sight, and he dare not let them fight. They were
therefore made to ‘boost’ along the wagon-trains of the white troops; to
build the greater part of the famous bridge which saved the fleet, and
got Lieut.-Col. Bailey a star; to endure the kicks and insults of white
soldiers: the officers to be put in arrest by inferior officers of white
regiments, and returned to Morganzia.

“Every available man is detailed daily, rain or shine, to work on the
fortifications under the jeers of loafing white soldiers and officers.”

“The labor-system adopted by Gen. Banks for the freedmen was nothing less
than slavery under another name. Having no confidence in the negro’s
ability to take care of himself, he felt that, even in freedom, he
needed a master, and therefore put him in leading-strings. The general
evidently considered that the wishes of the white planters, whether
rebel or not, were to be gratified, although it were done at the expense
of the black man. In reconstructing the civil authorities of the city
of New Orleans, he carried out the same policy of ignoring the rights
of the colored people, as will be seen by the following extract from a
petition of the colored citizens to President Lincoln:--

“Your petitioners aver that they have applied in respectful terms to
Brig.-Gen. George F. Shepley, Military Governor of Louisiana, and to
Major-Gen. N. P. Banks, commanding the Department of the Gulf, praying
to be placed upon the registers as voters, to the end that they might
participate in the re-organization of civil government in Louisiana; and
that their petition has met with no response from those officers.”

This petition was signed by the men, who, when the city was threatened
by the rebels during the siege of Port Hudson, took up arms for its
defence; all of whom were loyal to the American Union.



CHAPTER XXV--HONORS TO THE NOBLE DEAD.


_Capt. André Callioux.--His Body lies in State.--Personal
Appearance.--His Enthusiasm.--His Popularity.--His Funeral.--The great
Respect paid the Deceased.--General Lamentation._


The death of Capt. André Callioux created a profound sensation
throughout Louisiana, and especially in New Orleans, where the deceased
had lived from childhood. This feeling of sorrow found vent at the
funeral, which took place on the 11th of July, 1863. We give the
following, written at the time by a correspondent of a New-York
Journal:--

_“New Orleans, Saturday, Aug. 1, 1863._” “The most extraordinary local
event that has ever been seen within our borders, and, I think, one of
the most extraordinary exhibitions brought forth by this Rebellion, was
the funeral of Capt. André Callioux, Company E, First Louisiana National
Guards. Here, in this Southern emporium, was performed a funeral
ceremony that for numbers and impressiveness never had its superior
in this city; and it was originated and carried through in honor of a
gallant soldier of the despised race, to enslave which, it is said, will
soothe this State back into the Union.

“Capt. Callioux was fine-looking, and, in his military dress, had an
imposing appearance. I remember seeing him at Gen. Banks’s headquarters,
in company with at least fifteen of our prominent military officers; and
he was a marked personage among them all. In the celebrated assault and
repulse on Port Hudson by Gen. Banks, Capt. Callioux fell, at the head
of his company, on the 27th of May last, while gallantly leading it
on to the enemy’s works. His body, along with others of the national
regiments, after the battle, lay within deadly reach of the rebel
sharpshooters; and all attempts to recover the body were met with a
shower of Minie-bullets. Thus guarded by the enemy, or, I might
say, thus honored by their attention, the body lay exposed until the
surrender of the place, the 8th of July, when it was recovered, and
brought to this city to receive the astonishing ovation connected with
the last rights of humanity.

“The arrival of the body developed to the white population here that
the colored people had powerful organizations in the form of civic
societies; as the Friends of the Order, of which Capt. Callioux was a
prominent member, received the body, and had the coffin containing it,
draped with the American flag, exposed in state in the commodious hall.
Around the coffin, flowers were strewn in the greatest profusion, and
candles were kept continually burning. All the rights of the Catholic
Church were strictly complied with. The guard paced silently to and fro,
and altogether it presented as solemn a scene as was ever witnessed.

“In due time, the band of the Forty-second Massachusetts Regiment
made their appearance, and discoursed the customary solemn airs. The
officiating priest, Father Le Maistre, of the Church of St. Rose of
Lima, who has paid not the least attention to the excommunication and
denunciations issued against him by the archbishop of this diocese, then
performed the Catholic service for the dead. After the regular services,
he ascended to the president’s chair, and delivered a glowing and
eloquent eulogy on the virtues of the deceased. He called upon all
present to offer themselves, as Callioux had done, martyrs to the cause
of justice, freedom, and good government. It was a death the proudest
might envy.

“Immense crowds of colored people had by this time gathered around
the building, and the streets leading thereto were rendered almost
impassable. Two companies of the Sixth Louisiana (colored) Regiment,
from their camp on the Company Canal, were there to act as an escort;
and Esplanade Street, for more than a mile, was lined with colored
societies, both male and female, in open order, waiting for the hearse
to pass through.

“After a short pause, a sudden silence fell upon the crowd, the band
commenced playing a dirge; and the body was brought from the hall on the
shoulders of eight soldiers, escorted by six members of the society, and
six colored captains, who acted as pall-bearers. The corpse was conveyed
to the hearse through a crowd composed of both white and black people,
and in silence profound as death itself. Not a sound was heard save the
mournful music of the band, and not a head in all that vast multitude
but was uncovered.

“The procession then moved off in the following order: The hearse
containing the body, with Capts. J. W. Ringgold, W. B. Barrett, S. J.
Wilkinson, Eugene Mailleur, J. A. Glea, and A. St. Leger (all of whom,
we believe, belong to the Second Louisiana Native Guards), and six
members of The Friends of the Order, as pall-bearers; about a hundred
convalescent sick and wounded colored soldiers; the two companies of the
Sixth Regiment; a large number of colored officers of all native guard
regiments; the carriages containing Capt. Callioux’s family, and a
number of army officers; winding up with a large number of private
individuals, and the following-named societies:--

Friends of the Order.

Society of Economy and Mutual Assistance. United Brethren.

Arts’ and Mechanics’ Association.

Free Friends.

Good Shepherd Conclave, No. 2.

Artisans’ Brotherhood.

Good Shepherd Conclave, No. 1. Union Sons’ Relief. Perseverance Society.

Ladies of Bon Secours.

La Fleur de Marie.

Saint Rose of Lima.

The Children of Mary Society.

Saint Angela Society.

The Immaculate Conception Society. The Sacred Union Society.

The Children of Jesus.

Saint Veronica Society.

Saint Alphonsus Society.

Saint Joachim Society.

Star of the Cross.

Saint Theresa Society.

Saint Eulalia Society.

Saint Magdalen Society.

God Protect Us Society.

United Sisterhood.

Angel Gabriel Society.

Saint Louis Roi Society.

Saint Benoit Society. Benevolence Society.

Well Beloved Sisters’ Society.

Saint Peter Society.

Saint Michael Archangel Society Saint Louis de Gonzague Society. Saint
Ann Society.

The Children of Moses

“After moving through the principal down-town streets, the body was
taken to the Bienville-street cemetery; and there interred with military
honors due his rank.

“Capt. Callioux was a native of this city, aged forty-three years, and
was one of the first to raise a company under the call of Gen. Butler
for colored volunteers. ‘The Union,’ of this city, a paper of stanch
loyalty, which is devoted to the interests of the colored people,
speaking of Capt. Callioux, says ‘By his gallant bearing, his
gentlemanly deportment, his amiable disposition, and his capacities as a
soldier,--having received a very good education,--he became the idol of
his men, and won the respect and confidence of his superior officers.
He was a true type of the Louisianian. In this city, where he passed his
life, he was loved and respected by all who knew him.

“‘In Capt. Callioux, the cause of the Union and freedom has lost a
valuable friend. Capt. Callioux, defending the integrity of the sacred
cause of liberty, vindicated his race from the opprobrium with which it
was charged. He leaves a wife and several children, who will have the
consolation that he died the death of the patriot and the righteous.’

“The long pageant has passed away; but there is left deeply impressed on
the minds of those who witnessed this extraordinary sight the fact that
thousands of people born in slavery had, by the events of the Rebellion,
been disinthralled enough to appear in the streets of New Orleans,
bearing to the tomb a man of their own color, who had fallen gallantly
fighting for the flag and his country,--a man who had sealed with
his blood the inspiration he received from Mr. Lincoln’s Emancipation
Proclamation. The thousands of the unfortunates who followed his remains
had the flag of the Union in miniature form waving in their hands, or
pinned tastefully on their persons.

“We would ask, Can these people ever again be subjected to slavery?
Are these men who have been regenerated by wearing the United-States
uniform, these men who have given their race to our armies to fight our
would-be oppressors,--are these people to be, can they ever again be,
handed over to the taskmaster? Would a Government that would do such
a thing be respected by the world, be honored of God? Could the
Christianized people of the globe have witnessed the funeral of Capt.
Callioux, there would have been but one sentiment called forth, and that
is this,--that the National Government can make no compromise on this
slave question. It is too late to retreat: the responsibility has been
taken, and the struggle must go on until there is not legally a slave
under the folds of the American flag.”



CHAPTER XXVI.--HE NORTHERN WING OF THE REBELLION.


_The New-York Mob.--Murder, Fire, and Robbery.--The City given up to
the Rioters.--Whites and Blacks robbed in Open Day in the Great
Thoroughfares.--Negroes murdered, burned, and their Bodies hung on
Lamp-posts.--Southern Rebels at the Head of the Riot._


The partial successes which the rebels had achieved at Bull Run, Ball’s
Bluff, and Big Bethel, together with the defiant position of Gen. Lee on
the one hand, and the bad management of Gen. McClellan on the other, had
emboldened the rebels, and made them feel their strength.

Those who had served out their terms of service in the Union army were
not very anxious to re-enlist. The Conscript Act had been passed by
Congress, and the copperhead press throughout the land was urging the
people to resist the draft, when the welcome news of the surrender
of Vicksburg and Port Hudson came over the wires. The agents of the
Confederacy were at once despatched to New York to “let loose the dogs
of war.”

As the blacks of the South had assisted in the capture of Vicksburg and
Port Hudson, the colored people of the North must be made to suffer for
it.

The mob was composed of the lowest and most degraded of the foreign
population (mainly Irish), raked from the filthy cellars and dens of the
city, steeped in crimes of the deepest dye, and ready for any act, no
matter how dark and damnable; together with the worst type of onr native
criminals, whose long service in the prisons of the country, and whose
training in the Democratic party, had so demoralized their natures, that
they were ever on the hunt for some deed of robbery or murder.

This conglomerated mass of human beings were under the leadership of men
standing higher than themselves in the estimation of the public, but, if
possible, really lower in moral degradation. Cheered on by men holding
high political positions, and finding little or no opposition, they went
on at a fearful rate.

Never, in the history of mob-violence, was crime carried to such
an extent. Murder, arson, robbery, and cruelty reigned triumphant
throughout the city, day and night, for more than a week.

Breaking into stores, hotels, and saloons, and helping themselves to
strong drink, _ad libitum_, they became inebriated, and marched through
every part of the city. Calling at places where large bodies of men
were at work, and pressing them in, their numbers rapidly increased to
thousands, and their fiendish depredations had no bounds. Having been
taught by the leaders of the Democratic party to hate the negro, and
having but a few weeks previous seen regiments of colored volunteers
pass through New York on their way South, this infuriated band of
drunken men, women, and children paid special visits to all localities
inhabited by the blacks, and murdered all they could lay their hands on,
without regard to age or sex. Every place known to employ negroes
was searched: steamboats leaving the city, and railroad depots, were
watched, lest some should escape their vengeance.

Hundreds of the blacks, driven from their homes, and hunted and chased
through the streets, presented themselves at the doors of jails,
prisons, and police-stations, and begged admission. Thus did they
prowl about the city, committing crime after crime; indeed, in point of
cruelty, the Rebellion was transferred from the South to the North.

These depredations were to offset the glorious triumphs of our arms in
the rebel States.

          Peaceful o’er the placid waters rose the radiant summer sun,

          Loyal voices shouted anthems o’er the conquest bravely won;

          For the walls of Vicksburg yielded to the Union shot and shell,

          While Port Hudson, trembling, waited but a clearer tale to tell.


          But, alas! day’s golden image scarce had left its impress there,

          When above a Northern city rose the sounds of wild despair:

          Fiends and demons yet unnumbered rallied forth in bold array;

          Deeds of darkness, scenes of carnage, marked the traitors’ onward way.


          Blind to feeling, deaf to mercy, who may judge the depth of crime?

          None but God may know the misery traced upon the Book of Time.

The following account of the mob is from “The New-York Times” July 14,
1863:--

“The Orphan Asylum for Colored Children was visited by the mob about
four o’clock. This institution is situated on Fifth Avenue; and
the building, with the grounds and gardens adjoining, extends from
Forty-third to Forty-fourth Street. Hundreds and perhaps thousands of
the rioters, the majority of whom were women and children, entered the
premises, and, in the most excited and violent manner, ransacked and
plundered the building from cellar to garret. The building was located
in the most healthy portion of the city. It was purely a charitable
institution. In it there was an average of six or eight hundred homeless
colored orphans. The building was a large four-story one, with two wings
of three stories each.

“When it became evident that the crowd designed to destroy it, a flag
of truce appeared on the walk opposite, and the principals of the
establishment made an appeal to the excited populace; but in vain.

“Here it was, that Chief-Engineer Decker showed himself one of the
bravest of the brave. After the entire building had been ransacked, and
every article deemed worth carrying had been taken,--_and this included
even the little garments for the orphans, which were contributed by the
benevolent ladies of the city,--the premises were fired on the first
floor._ Mr. Decker did all he could to prevent the flames from being
kindled; but, when he was overpowered by superior numbers, with his own
hands he scattered the brands, and effectually extinguished the flames.
A second attempt was made, and this time in three different parts of the
house. Again he succeeded, with the aid of half a dozen of his men, in
defeating the incendiaries. The mob became highly exasperated at his
conduct, and threatened to take his life if he repeated the act. On
the front steps of the building, he stood up amid an infuriated and
half-drunken mob of two thousand, and begged of them to do nothing so
disgraceful to humanity as to burn a benevolent institution, which had
for its object nothing but good. He said it would be a lasting disgrace
to them and to the city of New York.

“These remarks seemed to have no good effect upon them, and meantime
the premises were again fired,--this time in all parts of the house. Mr.
Decker, with his few brave men, again extinguished the flames. This
last act brought down upon him the vengeance of all who were bent on
the destruction of the asylum; and but for the fact that some firemen
surrounded him, and boldly said that Mr. Decker could not be taken
except over their bodies, he would have been despatched on the spot. The
institution was destined to be burned; and, after an hour and a half of
labor on the part of the mob, it was in flames in all parts. Three or
four persons were horribly bruised by the falling walls; but the names
we could not ascertain. There is now scarcely one brick left on another
of the Orphan Asylum.

“At one o’clock yesterday, the garrison of the Seventh-avenue arsenal
witnessed a sad and novel sight. Winding slowly along Thirty-fourth
Street into Seventh Avenue, headed by a strong police force, came the
little colored orphans, whose asylum had been burned down on Monday
night. The boys, from two and three to fifteen years of age, followed by
little girls of the same ages, to the number of about two hundred each,
trotted along, and were halted in front of the arsenal.

“Then came a large number of men and women, several having babes
in their arms, who had been forced to seek refuge in adjacent
station-houses from the fury of the mob. Most of them carried small
bundles of clothing and light articles of furniture, all they had been
able to save from the wreck of their property. The negroes who had
sought safety under the guns of the arsenal were then taken out,
and ordered to join their friends outside. The procession was
then re-formed, and, headed by the police, marched back again down
Thirty-fifth Street to the North River.

“A strong detachment of Hawkins’s Zouaves guarded the flanks of the
procession; while a company of the Tenth New-York Volunteers, and a
squad of police, closed up the rear. Col. William Meyer had command
of the escort; and on arriving at the pier, where a numerous crowd had
followed them, he placed his men, with fixed bayonets, facing the people
to keep them in check; and the negroes were all safely embarked, and
conveyed to Ricker’s Island.

“The poor negroes have had a hard time. Finding they were to be
slaughtered indiscriminately, they have hid themselves in cellars
and garrets, and have endeavored, under cover of darkness, to flee to
neighboring places. The Elysian Fields, over in Hoboken, has been a
pretty safe refuge for them, as there are but few Irish living-in that
city. They have a sort of improvised camp there, composed mainly of
women and children.”

Blacks were chased to the docks, thrown into the river, and drowned;
while some, after being murdered, were hung to lamp-posts. Between forty
and fifty colored persons were killed, and nearly as many maimed for
life. But space will not allow us to give any thing like a detailed
account of this most barbarous outrage.



CHAPTER XXVII--ASSAULT ON FORT WAGNER.


_The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment.--Col. Shaw.--March to the
Island.--Preparation.--Speeches.--The Attack.--Storm of Shot, Shell,
and Canister.--Heroism of Officers and Men.--Death of Col. Shaw.--The
Color-sergeant.--The Retreat.--“Buried with his Niggers.”--Comments._


On the 16th of July, the Fifty-fourth Regiment (colored), Col. R. G.
Shaw, was attacked by the enemy, on James Island, in which a fight of
two hours’ duration took place, the Rebels largely outnumbering the
Union forces. The Fifty-fourth, however, drove the enemy before them in
confusion. The loss to our men was fourteen killed and eighteen wounded.
During the same day, Col. Shaw received orders from Gen. Gillmore to
evacuate the island. Preparations began at dusk. The night was dark and
stormy, and made the movement both difficult and dangerous. The march
was from James Island to Cole Island, across marshes, streams, and
dikes, and part of the way upon narrow foot-bridges, along which it was
necessary to proceed in single-file. The whole force reached Cole
Island the next morning, July 17, and rested during the day on the
beach opposite the south end of Folly Island. About ten o’clock in the
evening, the colonel of the Fifty-fourth received orders directing him
to report, with his command, to Gen. George C. Strong, at Morris Island,
to whose brigade the regiment was transferred.

From eleven o’clock of Friday evening until four o’clock of Saturday,
they were being put on the transport, “The Gen. Hunter,” in a boat which
took about fifty at a time. There they breakfasted on the same fare, and
had no other food before entering into the assault on Fort Wagner in the
evening.

“The Gen. Hunter” left Cole Island for Folly Island at six, a.m.; and
the troops landed at Pawnee Lauding about nine and a half, a.m., and
thence marched to the point opposite Morris Island, reaching there about
two o’clock in the afternoon. They were transported in a steamer across
the inlet, and at four, p.m., began their march for Fort Wagner. They
reached Brigadier-Gen. Strong’s quarters, about midway on the island,
about six or six and a half o’clock, where they halted for five minutes.

Gen. Strong expressed a great desire to give them food and stimulants;
but it was too late, as they had to lead the charge. They had been
without tents during the pelting rains of Thursday and Friday nights.
Gen. Strong had been impressed with the high character of the regiment
and its officers; and he wished to assign them the post where the most
severe work was to be done and the highest honor was to be won.

The march across Folly and Morris Islands was over a sandy road, and was
very wearisome. The regiment went through the centre of the island, and
not along the beach, where the marching was easier.

When they had come within six hundred yards of Fort Wagner, they formed
in line of battle, the colonel heading the first, and the major the
second battalion. This was within musket-shot of the enemy. There
was little firing from the enemy; a solid shot falling between the
battalions, and another falling to the right, but no musketry. At this
point, the regiment, together with the next supporting regiment, the
Sixth Connecticut, Ninth Maine, and others, remained half an hour. The
regiment was addressed by Gen. Strong and by Col. Shaw. Then, at seven
and a half or seven and three-quarters o’clock, the order for the charge
was given. The regiment advanced at quick time, changed to double-quick
when at some distance on.

The intervening distance between the place where the line was formed and
the fort was run over in a few minutes.

When about one hundred yards from the fort, the rebel musketry opened
with such terrible effect, that, for an instant, the first battalion
hesitated,--but only for an instant; for Col. Shaw, springing to the
front and waving his sword, shouted, “Forward, my brave boys!” and with
another cheer and a shout they rushed through the ditch, gained the
parapet on the right, and were soon engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict
with the enemy. Col. Shaw was one of the first to scale the walls. He
stood erect to urge forward his men, and, while shouting for them to
press on, was shot dead, and fell into the fort. His body was found,
with twenty of his men lying dead around him; two lying on his own body.

The Fifty-fourth did well and nobly; only the fall of Col. Shaw
prevented them from entering the fort. They moved up as gallantly as any
troops could, and, with their enthusiasm, they deserved a better fate.

Sergeant-major Lewis H. Douglass, son of Frederick Douglass, the
celebrated orator, sprang upon the parapet close behind Col. Shaw, and
cried out, “Come, boys, come, let’s fight for God and Governor Andrew.”
 This brave young man was the last to leave the parapet. Before the
regiment reached the parapet, the color-sergeant was wounded; and,
while in the act of falling, the colors were seized by Sergt. William
H. Carney, who bore them up, and mounted the parapet, where he, too,
received three severe wounds. But, on orders being given to retire, the
color-bearer, though almost disabled, still held the emblem of liberty
in the air, and followed his regiment by the aid of his comrades, and
succeeded in reaching the hospital, where he fell exhausted and almost
lifeless on the floor, saying, “The old flag never touched the ground,
boys.” Capt. Lewis F. Emilio, the junior captain,--all of his superiors
having been killed or wounded,--took command, and brought the regiment
into camp. In this battle, the total loss in officers and men, killed
and wounded, was two hundred and sixty-one.

When John Brown was led out of the Charlestown jail, on his way
to execution, he paused a moment, it will be remembered, in the
passage-way, and, taking a little colored child in his arms, kissed
and blessed it. The dying blessing of the martyr will descend from
generation to generation; and a whole race will cherish for ages the
memory of that simple caress, which, degrading as it seemed to the
slaveholders around him, was as sublime and as touching a lesson, and
as sure to do its work in the world’s history, as that of Him who said,
“Suffer little children to come unto me.”

When inquiry was made at Fort Wagner, under flag of truce, for the body
of Col. Shaw of the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth, the answer was, “We have
buried him with his niggers!” It is the custom of savages to outrage the
dead, and it was only natural that the natives of South Carolina should
attempt to heap insult upon the remains of the brave young soldier;
but that wide grave on Morris Island will be to a whole race a holy
sepulchre. No more fitting burial-place, no grander obsequies, could
have been given to him who cried, as he led that splendid charge, “On,
my brave boys!” than to give to him and to them one common grave. As
they clustered around him in the fight: as they rallied always to the
clear ring of his loved voice; as they would have laid down their lives,
each and all of them, to save his; as they honored and reverenced him,
and lavished on him all the strong affections of a warm-hearted and
impulsive people: so when the fight was over, and he was found with the
faithful dead piled up like a bulwark around him, the poor savages did
the only one fitting thing to be done when they buried them together.
Neither death nor the grave has divided the young martyr and hero from
the race for which he died; and a whole people will remember in the
coming centuries, when its new part is to be played in the world’s
history, that “he was buried with his niggers!”

               They buried him with his niggers!”

                   Together they fought and died.

               There was room for them all where they laid him

                   (The grave was deep and wide),

               For his beauty and youth and valor,

                   Their patience and love and pain;

               And at the last day together

                   They shall all be found again.


               They buried him with his niggers!”

                   Earth holds no prouder grave:

               There is not a mausoleum

                   In the world beyond the wave,

               That a nobler tale has hallowed,

                   Or a purer glory crowned,

               Than the nameless trench where they buried

                   The brave so faithful found.


               “They buried him with his niggers!”

                   A wide grave should it be.

               They buried more in that shallow trench

                   Than human eye could see.

               Ay: all the shames and sorrows

                   Of more than a hundred years

               Lie under the weight of that Southern soil

                   Despite those cruel sneers.


               “They buried him with his niggers!”

                   But the glorious souls set free

               Are leading the van of the army

                   That fights for liberty.

               Brothers in death, in glory

                   The same palm-branches bear;

               And the crown is as bright o’er the sable brows

                   As over the golden hair.

Only those who knew Col. Shaw can understand how fitting it seems, when
the purpose of outrage is put aside and forgotten, that he should have
been laid in a common grave with his black soldiers. The relations
between colored troops and their officers--if these are good for any
thing, and fit for their places--must need be, from the circumstances
of the case, very close and peculiar. They were especially so with Col.
Shaw and his regiment. His was one of those natures which attract first
through the affections. Most gentle tempered, genial as a warm winter’s
sun, sympathetic, full of kindliness, unselfish, unobtrusive, and gifted
with a manly beauty and a noble bearing, he was sure to win the love,
in a very marked degree, of men of a race peculiarly susceptible to
influence from such traits of character as these. First, they loved
him with a devotion which could hardly exist anywhere else than in the
peculiar relation he held to them as commander of the first regiment
of free colored men permitted to fling out a military banner in this
country,--a banner that, so raised, meant to them so much! But, then,
came closer ties; they found that this young man, with education and
habits that would naturally lead him to choose a life of ease, with
wealth at his command, with peculiarly happy social relations (one
most tender one just formed), accepted the position offered him in
consideration of his soldierly as well as moral fitness, because he
recognized a solemn duty to the black man; because he was ready to throw
down all that he had, all that he was, all that this world could give
him, for the negro race! Beneath that gentle and courtly bearing which
so won upon the colored people of Boston when the Fifty-fourth was in
camp, beneath that kindly but unswerving discipline of the commanding
officer, beneath that stern but always cool and cheerful courage of the
leader in the fight, was a clear and deep conviction of a duty to the
blacks. He hoped to lead them, as one of the roads to social equality,
to fight their way to true freedom; and herein he saw his path of duty.
Of the battle two days before that in which he fell, and in which his
regiment, by their bravery, won the right to lead the attack on Fort
Wagner, he said, “I wanted my men to fight by the side of whites, and
they have done it;” thinking of others, not of himself; thinking of that
great struggle for equality in which the race had now a chance to gain
a step forward, and to which he was ready to devote his life. Could it
have been for him to choose his last resting-place, he would, no doubt,
have said, “Bury me with my men if I earn that distinction.”

               Buried with a band of brothers

                   Who for him would fain have died;

               Buried with the gallant fellows

                   Who fell fighting by his side;

               Buried with the men God gave him,

                   Those whom he was sent to save;

               Buried with the martyred heroes,

                   He has found an honored grave.


               Buried where his dust so precious

                   Makes the soil a hallowed spot;

               Buried where, by Christian patriot,

                   He shall never be forgot;


               Buried in the ground accursed,

                   Which man’s fettered feet have trod;

               Buried where his voice still speaketh,

                   Appealing for the slave to God;


               Fare thee well, thou noble warrior,

                   Who in youthful beauty went

               On a high and holy mission,

                   By the God of battles sent.


               Chosen of Him, “elect and precious,”

                   Well didst thou fulfil thy part:

               When thy country “counts her jewels,”

                   She shall wear thee on her heart.

One who was present, speaking of the incidents before the battle, says
of Col. Shaw,--

“The last day with us, or, I may say, the ending of it, as we lay flat
on the ground before the assault, his manner was more unbending than
I had ever noticed before in the presence of his men. He sat on the
ground, and was talking to the men very familiarly and kindly. He told
them how the eyes of thousands would look upon the night’s work they
were about to enter on; and he said, ‘Now, boys, I want you to be men!’
He would walk along the line, and speak words of cheer to his men.

“We could see that he was a man who had counted the cost of the
undertaking before him; for his words were spoken ominously, his lips
were compressed, and now and then there was visible a slight twitching
of the corners of the month, like one bent on accomplishing or dying.
One poor fellow, struck no doubt by the colonel’s determined bearing,
exclaimed, as he was passing him, ‘Colonel, I will stay by you till I
die;’ and he kept his word: he has never been seen since. For one so
young, Col. Shaw showed a well-trained mind, and an ability of governing
men not possessed by many older or more experienced men. In him the
regiment has lost one of its best and most devoted friends. Col. Shaw
was only about twenty-seven years of age, and was married a few weeks
before he joined the army of the South.”

The following correspondence between the father of Col. Shaw and Gen.
Gillmore needs no comment, but is characteristic of the family:--

“_Brig-Gen. Gillmore, commanding Department of the South._

“_Sir_,--I take the liberty to address you, because I am informed that
efforts are to be made to recover the body of my son, Col. Shaw, of the
Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, which was buried at Fort Wagner. My
object in writing is to say that such efforts are not authorized by me,
or any of my family, and that they are not approved by us. We hold that
a soldier’s most appropriate burial-place is on the field where he has
fallen. I shall, therefore, be much obliged, general, if, in case the
matter is brought to your cognizance, you will forbid the desecration of
my son’s grave, and prevent the disturbance of his remains or of those
buried with him. With most earnest wishes for your success, I am, sir,
with respect and esteem,

“Your most obedient servant,

“_FRANCIS GEORGE SHAW._

“New York, Aug. 24,1863.

“_Headquarters Department of the South,_ Morris Island, S.C., Sept. 5,
1863.

“_F. G. Shaw, Esq., Clifton, Staten Island, N.Y._

_Sir!_ I have just received your letter, expressing the disapprobation
of yourself and family of any effort to recover the body of your son,
the late Col. Shaw, of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers, buried
in Fort Wagner; and requesting me to forbid the desecration of his grave
or disturbance of his remains.

“Had it been possible to obtain the body of Col. Shaw immediately after
the battle in which he lost his life, I should have sent it to his
friends, in deference to a sentiment which I know to be widely prevalent
among the friends of those who fall in battle, although the practice is
one to which my own judgment has never yielded assent.

“The views expressed in your letter are so congenial to the feelings of
an officer, as to command not only my cordial sympathy, but my respect
and admiration. Surely no resting-place for your son could be found
more fitting than the scene where his courage and devotion were so
conspicuously displayed.

“I beg to avail myself of this opportunity to express my deep sympathy
for yourself and family in their great bereavement, and to assure you
that on no authority less than your own shall your son’s remains be
disturbed.

“Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

“_Q. A. GILLMORE_,

“_Brigadier-General commanding_.”

The following address of the Military Governor of South Carolina to the
people of color in the Department of the South pays a fit tribute to the
memory of the lamented Col. Shaw:--

_“Beaufort, S.C., July 27, 1863._

“_To the Colored Soldiers and Freedmen in this Department._

“It is fitting that you should pay a last tribute of respect to the
memory of the late Col. Robert Gould Shaw, Colonel of the Fifty-fourth
Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers. He commanded the first regiment of
colored soldiers from a free State ever mustered into the United-States
service.

“He fell at the head of his regiment, while leading a storming-party
against a rebel stronghold. You should cherish in your inmost hearts the
memory of one who did not hesitate to sacrifice all the attractions of
a high social position, wealth and home, and his own noble life, for
the sake of humanity; another martyr to your cause that death has added;
still another hope for your race. The truths and principles for which he
fought and died still live, and will be vindicated. On the spot where he
fell, by the ditch into which his mangled and bleeding body was thrown,
on the soil of South Carolina, I trust that you will honor yourselves
and his glorious memory by appropriating the first proceeds of your
labor as free men toward erecting an enduring monument to the hero,
soldier, martyr, Robert Gould Shaw.

“_R. SAXTON,_

“_Brigadier-General and Military Governor._”

We are glad to be able to say, that the noble proposition of Gen. Saxton
met with success.

Col. Shaw was singularly fortunate in being surrounded by officers, like
himself, young, brave, and enthusiastic. Major Hallowed, the next in
command, was wounded while urging forward his men. Adjutant G. W. James,
Capts. S. Willard, J. W. M. Appleton, E. L.

Jones, G. Pope, W. H. Simpkins, C. J. Russell, and C. E. Tucker, and
Lieuts. O. E. Smith, W. H. Homan, R. H. Jewett, and J. A. Pratt,--were
severely wounded. A large proportion of the non-commissioned officers
fell in the engagement or were badly wounded. Among these was Sergt. R.
J. Simmons, a young man of more than ordinary ability, who had learned
the science of war in the British army. The writer enlisted him in the
city of New York, and introduced him to Francis George Shaw, Esq., who
remarked at the time that Simmons would make “a valuable soldier’.”
 Col. Shaw, also, had a high opinion of him. He died of his wounds in the
enemy’s hospital at Charleston, from bad treatment. The heroic act
of Sergt. Carney, to which we have already alluded, called forth
the following correspondence, which needs no comments, from the
Adjutant-General’s Report of the State of Massachusetts for the year
1865:--

“_New York, 596 Broadway, Boom 10,_ _Dec. 13, 1865._.

“_To Adjutant-General of Massachusetts, Boston._

“_Sir_,--Will you be pleased to give me the name of some officer of
the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts colored regiment, so that I can obtain
information concerning the famous assault that regiment made on Fort
Wagner? I wish to learn the facts relating to the wounded color-bearer,
who, though wounded severely, bore the flag heroically while crawling
from the parapet to his retreating or repulsed regiment. It would make a
splendid subject for a. statuette.

“Respectfully,

“_T. H. BARTLETT,_

“_Sculptor_.”

I immediately forwarded the letter to Col. Hallowell, with a request
that he would furnish me with all the facts relating to the incident
which he possessed. The following is Col. Hallowell’s reply:--

“_Boston, Dec. 18, 1865._

“_William Schouler, Adjutant-General._

“_Dear Sir_,--Your letter of the 15th to my brother, enclosing one from
Mr. Bartlett, and requesting me to furnish a statement of facts relating
to Sergt. Carney, of the Fifty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers,
is received. The following statement is, to the best of my knowledge and
belief, correct; but you must remember it is made up principally from
hearsay, no one person having seen every incident, except the sergeant.
During the assault upon Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863, the sergeant
carrying the national colors of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts
Volunteers fell; but, before the colors reached the ground, Sergt.
Carney, of Company C, grasped them, and bore them to the parapet of the
fort; where he received wounds in both legs, in the breast, and in the
right arm: he, however, refused to give up his trust. When the regiment
retired from the fort, Sergt. Carney, by the aid of his comrades,
succeeded in reaching the hospital, still holding on to the flag, where
he fell, exhausted and almost lifeless, on the floor, saying, ‘The old
flag never touched the ground, boys.’ At the time the above happened, I
was not in a condition to verify the truth of the statements made to me;
but they come to me from very reliable parties, and from very different
people; so, after a close cross-examination of the sergeant (who was
known as a truthful man), I have concluded that the statement I have
made is substantially correct.

“Sergt. Carney was an African, of, I should think, full blood; of very
limited education, but very intelligent; bright face, lips and nose
(comparatively) finely cut, head rather round, skin very dark, height
about five feet eight inches, not very athletic or muscular; had lived
in New Bedford, Mass., for many years. Hoping this will be of service to
Mr. Bartlett, I have the honor to be, very respectfully,

“Your obedient servant,

“_E. N. HALLOWELL_,

“_Late Colonel, &c._”



CHAPTER XXVIII--THE SLAVE-MARTYR.


_The Siege of Washington, N.C.--Big Bob, the Negro Scout.--The
Perilous Adventure.--The Fight.--Return.--Night Expedition.--The Fatal
Sandbar.--The Enemy’s Shells.--“Somebody’s got to die to get us out of
this, and it may as well be me.”--Death of Bob.--Safety of the Boat._


The siege of Washington, N.C., had carried consternation among the
planters of the surrounding country, and contrabands were flocking in by
hundreds, when, just at day-break one morning, a band of seventeen came
to the shore, and hailed the nearest gunboat. The blacks were soon taken
on board, when it was ascertained that they had travelled fifty miles
the previous night, guided by their leader, a negro whom they called
“Big Bob.” This man was without a drop of Anglo-Saxon blood in his
veins, if color was a true index. It was also soon known that he was a
preacher, or had been, among his fellow-slaves. These men all expressed
a desire to be put to work, and, if allowed, to fight for “de ole flag.”

“Big Bob” sported a suit of rebel gray, which his fellow-slaves could
not; and the way in which he obtained it was rather amusing. In the
region from which they escaped, the blacks were being enrolled in the
rebel army; and Bob and his companions were taken, and put under guard,
preparatory to their being removed to the nearest military post. Bob,
however, resolved that he would not fight for the rebel cause, and
induced his comrades to join in the plan of seizing the guard, and
bringing him away with them; which they did, Bob claiming the rebel
soldier’s clothes, when that individual was dismissed, after a march
of thirty miles from their home. Bob made an amusing appearance, being
above six feet in height, and dressed in a suit, the legs of the pants
of which were five or six inches too short, and the arms of the coat
proportionally short.

A few days after the arrival of the contrabands, their services were
needed in an important expedition in the interior. These negroes, upon
being told what was wanted of them, although knowing that the enterprise
would be attended with the greatest danger, and would require the utmost
skill, volunteered their services, and, upon being furnished with arms
and implements, immediately started upon the expedition. Being landed
upon a point some little distance from Washington, they succeeded in
penetrating the enemy’s country, arresting three very important rebels,
and conveying them to the fleet. In the return march, the rebels
complained at their being made to walk so far and so fast; but Bob, the
captain of the company, would occasionally be heard urging them along
after this style: “March along dar, massa; no straggling to de rear:
come, close up dar, close up dar! we’re boss dis time.” On the arrival
of the party, the blacks were highly complimented by the commander.

A week had scarcely passed, and the slaves rested, before they were sent
upon a more difficult and dangerous expedition; yet these men, with Bob
to lead them, were ready for any enterprise, provided they could have
arms and ammunition. Once more landed on shore, they started with a
determination to accomplish the object for which they had been sent.
They had not gone far before they were attacked by a scouting-party
from the rebel camp, and four of the whites and one of the blacks were
killed: one also of the latter was wounded. However, the rebels were put
to flight, and the negroes made good their escape. Still bent on obeying
the orders of the commander, they took a somewhat different route, and
proceeded on their journey. Having finished their mission, which was the
destroying of two very large salt-works, breaking up fifty salt-kettles,
a large tannery, and liberating twenty-three slaves, some of whom they
armed with guns taken in their fight with the rebels, Bob commenced
retracing his steps. The return was not so easily accomplished, for the
enemy were well distributed on the line between them and the gunboats.
After getting within four miles of the fleet, and near Point Rodman, a
fight took place between the colored men and the rebels, which lasted
nearly an hour. The blacks numbered less than forty; while the whites
were more than one hundred. The negroes were called upon to surrender;
but Bob answered, “No, I never surrenders.” And then he cried out,
“Come on, boys! ef we’s captud, we’s got to hang; and dat’s a fack.”
 And nobly did they fight, whipping their assailants, and reaching the
gunboats with but the loss of three men killed and ten wounded. Bob and
his companions were greatly praised when once more on the fleet.

But Bob’s days were numbered; for the next day a flat full of soldiers,
with four blacks, including Bob, attempted to land at Rodman’s Point,
but were repulsed by a terrible fire of rebel bullets, all tumbling into
the boat, and lying flat to escape being shot. Meanwhile the boat stuck
fast on the sand-bar, while the balls were still whizzing over and
around the flat. Seeing that something must be done at once, or all
would be lost, Big Bob exclaimed, “Somebody’s got to die to get us out
of this, and it may as well be me!” He then deliberately got out, and
pushed the boat of, and fell into it, pierced by five bullets.

               “The surf with ricochetting balls

                   Was churned and splashed around us:

               I heard my comrades’ hurried calls,

                   “The rebel guns have found us.’


               Our vessel shivered! Far beneath

                   The treacherous sand had caught her.

               What man will leap to instant death

                   To shove her into water?


               Strange light shone in our hero’s eye;

                   His voice was strong and steady:

               ‘My brothers, one of us must die;

                   And I, thank God! am ready.’


               A shell flew toward us, hissing hate,

                   Then screaming like a demon:

               He calmly faced the awful fate,

                   Resolved to die a freeman.


               He fell, his heart cut through with shot:

                   The true blood of that martyr

               Out from his body spurted hot

                   To flee the shame of barter.


               We lifted up the brave man’s corse;

                   We thought him fair aud saintly:

               The rebel bullets round us hoarse

                   We heard, but dull and faintly.


               ‘ Tis ever so: a great deed wrought,

                   The doer falls that moment,

               As if to save the God-like thought

                   From any human comment.


               Heroes are dead men by that fact;

                   Fame haunts our grave-yards, sighing,

               ‘Alas! that man’s divinest act

                   Should be the act of dying.’”



CHAPTER XXIX--BATTLE OF OLUSTEE, FLORIDA.


_The Union Troops decoyed into a Swamp.--They are outnumbered.--Their
great Bravery.--The Heroism of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts.--Death of
Col. Fribley._


The battle of Olustee was fought in a swamp situated thirty-five miles
west of Jacksonville, and four miles from Sanderson, in the State of
Florida. The expedition was under the immediate command of Gen. C.
Seymour, and consisted of the Seventh New Hampshire, Seventh Connecticut
(armed with Spencer rifles, which fire eight times without loading),
Eighth United-States (colored) Battery, Third United-States Artillery,
Fifty-fourth Massachusetts (colored), and First North-Carolina
(colored). The command having rested on the night of the 19th of
February, 1884, at Barbour’s Ford, on the St. Mary’s River, took up its
line of march on the morning of the 20th, and proceeded to Sanderson,
nine miles to the west, which was reached at one o’clock, p.m., without
interruption; but, about three miles beyond, the advance drove in the
enemy’s pickets. The Seventh Connecticut, being deployed as skirmishers,
fell in with the enemy’s force in the swamp, strengthened still more by
rifle-pits. Here they were met by cannon and musketry; but our troops,
with their Spencer rifles, played great havoc with the enemy, making
an attempt to take one of his pieces of artillery, but failed. However,
they hold their ground nobly for three-quarters of an hour, and were
just about retiring as the main body of our troops came up.

The Eighth (colored), which had never been in battle, and which had been
recruited but a few weeks, came up and filed to the right, when they met
with a most terrific shower of musketry and shell. Gen. Seymour now came
up, and pointing in front, towards the railroad, said to Col. Fribley,
commander of the Eighth, “Take your regiment in there,”--a place which
was sufficiently hot to make the oldest and most field-worn veterans
tremble; and yet these men, who had never heard the sound of a cannon
before, rushed in where they commenced dropping like grass before the
sickle: still on they went without faltering, until they came within two
hundred yards of the enemy’s strongest works. Here these brave men stood
for nearly three hours before a terrible fire, closing up as their
ranks were thinned out, fire in front, on their flank, and in the rear,
without flinching or breaking.

Col. Fribley, seeing that it was impossible to hold the position, passed
along the lines to tell the officers to fire, and fall back gradually,
and was shot before he reached the end. He was shot in the chest, told
the men to carry him to the rear, and expired in a very few minutes.
Major Burritt took command, but was also wounded in a short time. At
this time Capt. Hamilton’s battery became endangered, and he cried out
to our men for God’s sake to save his battery. Our United-States flag,
after three sergeants had forfeited their lives by bearing it during the
fight, was planted on the battery by Lieut. Elijah Lewis, and the men
rallied around it; but the guns had been jammed up so indiscriminately,
and so close to the enemy’s lines, that the gunners were shot down as
fast as they made their appearance; and the horses, whilst they were
wheeling the pieces into position, shared the same fate. They were
compelled to leave the battery, and failed to bring the flag away. The
battery fell into the enemy’s hands. During the excitement, Capt. Bailey
took command, and brought out the regiment in good order. Sergt. Taylor,
Company D, who carried the battle-flag, had his right hand nearly shot
off, but grasped the colors with the left hand, and brought them out.

The Seventh New Hampshire was posted on both sides of the wagon-road,
and broke, but soon rallied, and did good execution. The line was
probably one mile long, and all along the fighting was terrific.

Our artillery, where it could be worked, made dreadful havoc on the
enemy; whilst the enemy did us but very little injury with his, with the
exception of one gun, a sixty-four pound swivel, fixed on a truck-car
on the railroad, which fired grape and canister. On the whole, their
artillery was very harmless; but their musketry fearful.

Up to this time, neither the First North Carolina nor the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts had taken any part in the fight, as they were in the
rear some distance. However, they heard the roar of battle, and were
hastening to the field, when they were met by an aide, who came riding
up to the colonel of the Fifty-fourth, saying, “For God’s sake, colonel,
double-quick, or the day is lost!” Of all the regiments, every
one seemed to look to the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts with the most
dependence on the field of battle. This regiment was under the command
of Col. E. N. Hallowell, who fell wounded by the side of Col. Shaw,
at Fort Wagner, and who, since his recovery, had been in several
engagements, in all of which he had shown himself an excellent officer,
and had gained the entire confidence of his men, who were willing
to follow him wherever he chose to lead. When the aide met these two
regiments, he found them hastening on.

The First North Carolina was in light marching order; the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts was in heavy marching order, with knapsacks, haversacks,
canteens, and every other appurtenance of the soldier. But off went
every thing, and they double-quicked on to the field. At the most
critical juncture, just as the rebels were preparing for a simultaneous
charge along the whole line, and they had captured our artillery
and turned it upon us, Col. James Montgomery, Col. Hallo-well, and
Lieut.-Col. Hooper formed our line of battle on right by file into line.

The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts went in first, with a cheer. They were
followed by the First North Carolina (colored). Lieut.-Col. Reed,
in command, headed the regiment, sword in hand, and charged upon the
rebels. They broke when within twenty yards of contact with our negro
troops. Overpowered by numbers, the First North Carolina fell back
in good order, and poured in a destructive fire. Their colonel fell,
mortally wounded. Major Bogle fell wounded, and two men were killed
in trying to reach his body. The Adjutant, William C. Manning, wounded
before at Malvern Hills, got a bullet in his body, but persisted
in remaining until another shot struck him. His lieutenant-colonel,
learning the fact, embraced him, and implored him to leave the field.
The next moment the two friends were stretched side by side: the colonel
had received his own death-wound. _But the two colored regiments had
stood in the gap, and saved the army!_ The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts,
which, with the First North Carolina, may be truly said to have saved
the forces from utter route, lost eighty men.

There were three color-sergeants shot down: the last one was shot three
times before he relinquished the flag of his country. His name was
Samuel C. Waters, Company C, and his body sleeps where he fell. The
battle-flag carried by Sergt. Taylor was borne through the fight with
the left hand, after the right one was nearly shot off. The rebels
fired into the place where the wounded were being attended to; and
their cavalry was about making a charge on it just as the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts appeared on the field, when they retired.

Had Col. Hallowell not seen at a glance the situation of affairs,
the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers would have been killed or
captured. When they entered the field with the First North Carolina,
which is a brave regiment, they (the First North Carolina) fired well
while they remained; but they gave way, thus exposing the right. On the
left, the rebel cavalry were posted; and, as the enemy’s left advanced
on our right, their cavalry pressed the left. Both flanks were thus
being folded up, and slaughter or capture would have been the inevitable
result. We fell back in good order, and established new lines of battle,
until we reached Sanderson. Here a scene that beggars description was
presented. Wounded men lined the railroad station; and the roads
were filled with artillery, caissons, ammunition and baggage-wagons,
infantry, cavalry, and ambulances. The only organized bodies ready
to repel attack were a portion of the Fortieth Massachusetts Mounted
Infantry, armed with the Spencer repeating-rifle, the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts Volunteers, and the Seventh Connecticut, commanded by Col.
Hawley, now governor of Connecticut.

An occurrence of thrilling interest took place during the battle, which
I must not omit to mention: it was this:--

Col. Hallowed ordered the color-line to be advanced one hundred and
fifty paces. Three of the colored corporals, Pease, Palmer, and Glasgow,
being wounded, and the accomplished Goodin killed, there were four only
left,--Wilkins the acting sergeant, Helnian and Lenox. The colors were
perforated with bullets, and the staff was struck near the grasp of
the sergeant; but the color-guard marched steadily out, one hundred and
fifty paces to the front, with heads erect and square to the front; and
the battalion rallied around it, and fought such a fight as made Col.
Hallowell shout with very joy, and the men themselves to ring out
defiant cheers which made the pines and marshes of Ocean Pond echo
again.

The attachment which the colored men form for their officers is very
great, often amounting to self-sacrifice. Thus when Major Bogle fell
wounded, one of his soldiers sprang forward to rescue him, and bear him
to the rear. At that instant a rebel sergeant fired, and wounded
the black man in the shoulder. This, however, did not force him to
relinquish his purpose, but appeared to add to his determination; and
he had his arms around the wounded officer, when a second ball passed
through the soldier’s head, and he fell and expired on the body of his
superior, who was taken prisoner by the enemy.

Although these colored men had never been paid off, and their families
at home were in want, they were as obedient and fought as bravely as the
white troops, whose pockets contained “greenbacks,” and whose wives and
children were provided for.

The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts went into the battle with “Three cheers
for Massachusetts, and seven dollars a month.”

It is well known that the general in command came to the colonel and
said, “The day is lost: you must do what you can to save the army from
destruction.” And nobly did they obey him. They fired their guns till
their ammunition was exhausted, and then stood with fixed bayonets
till the broken columns had time to retreat, and though once entirely
outflanked, the enemy getting sixty yards in their rear, their undaunted
front and loud cheering caused the enemy to pause, and allowed them time
to change front. They occupied the position as rear guard all the way
back to Jacksonville; and, where-ever was the post of danger, there was
the Fifty-fourth to be found.

When the forces arrived at Jacksonville, they there learned that the
train containing the wounded was at Ten-Mile Station, where it had
been left, owing to the breaking down of the engine. The Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts, fatigued and worn out as it was, was despatched at once,
late at night, to the assistance of the disabled train. Arriving at
Ten-Mile Station, they found that the only way to bring the wounded
with them was to attach ropes to the cars, and let the men act as motive
power. Thus the whole train of cars containing the wounded from the
battle of Olustee was dragged a distance of ten miles by that brave
colored regiment. All accounts give the negroes great praise for
gallantry displayed at this battle. Even the correspondent of “The
New-York Herald” gives this emphatic testimony: “The First North
Carolina and the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, of the colored troops, _did
admirably._ The First North Carolina _held the positions it was placed
in with the greatest tenacity, and inflicted heavy loss on the enemy. It
was cool and steady, and never flinched for a moment. The Fifty-fourth
sustained the reputation they had gained at Wagner, and bore themselves
like soldiers throughout the battle._” A letter from Beaufort, dated
Feb. 26, from a gentleman who accompanied Gen. Seymour’s expedition, has
the following passage relative to the conduct of the Fifty-fourth in the
repulse in Florida:--

“A word about the terrible defeat in Florida. We have been driven from
Lake City to within seven miles of Jacksonville,--fifty-three miles. The
rebels allowed us to penetrate, and then, with ten to our one, cut
us off, meaning to _‘bag’ us; and, had it not been for the glorious
Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, the whole brigade would have been captured
or annihilated._ This was the only regiment that rallied, broke the
rebel ranks, and saved us. _The Eighth United-States (colored) lost
their flag twice, and the Fifty-fourth recaptured it each time_. They
had lost, in killed and missing, about three hundred and fifty. They
would not retreat when ordered, but charged with the most fearful
desperation, driving the enemy before them, and turning their
left flank. If this regiment has not won glory enough to have
shoulder-straps, where is there one that ever did?”



CHAPTER XXX--BATTLE OF POISON SPRINGS, ARKANSAS.


_Hand-fought Battle.--Bravery of the Kansas Colored Troops.--They
die but will not yield.--Outnumbered by the Rebels.--Another severe
Battle.--The heroic Negro, after being wounded, fights till he dies._


The battle of Poison Springs, Ark., between one thousand Union and
eight thousand rebel troops, was one of the most severe conflicts of the
war. Six hundred of the Union forces were colored, and from Kansas, some
of them having served under old John Brown during the great struggle in
that territory. These black men, as it will be seen, bore the brunt
of the fight, and never did men show more determined bravery than
was exhibited on this occasion. They went into the battle singing the
following characteristic song:--

          “Old John Brown’s body lies a mouldering in the grave,

          While weep the sons of bondage, whom he ventured to save;

          But though he lost his life in struggling for the slave,

                   His soul is marching on.

                   Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

                   Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

                   Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

                   His soul is marching on!

          John Brown was a hero, undaunted, true, and brave,

          And Kansas knew his valor, when he fought her rights to save;

          And now, though the grass grows green above his grave,

                   His soul is marching on.

          He captured Harper’s Ferry with his nineteen men so few,

          And he frightened ‘Old Virginny’ till she trembled through and
through:

          They hung him for a traitor, themselves a traitor crew,

                   For his soul is marching on, &c.


          John Brown was John the Baptist, of the Christ we are to see,--

          Christ, who of the bondman shall the Liberator be;

          And soon throughout the sunny South the slaves shall all be free,

                   For his soul is marching on, &c.

          The conflict that he heralded, he looks from heaven to view,

          On the army of the Union, with its flag, red, white, and blue;

          And heaven shall ring with anthems o’er the deed they mean to do,

                   For his soul is marching on, &c.


          Ye soldiers of freedom then strike, while strike ye may,

          The death-blow of oppression in a better time and way;

          For the dawn of old John Brown has brightened into day,

                   And his soul is marching on.

                   Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

                   Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

                   Glory, glory, Hallelujah!

                   And his soul is marching on.”

The following graphic description of the battle will be read with
thrilling interest:--

“_Official Report of Major Richard G. Ward, commanding First Kansas
Colored Regiment at the battle of Poison Springs._

“_Headquarters First Kansas Colored Vols.,_ _Camden, Ark., April 20,
1864._

“_Col. J. M. Williams, commanding Escort to Forage-train._

“_Colonel_,--In conformity with the requirements of the circular issued
by you, April 19, 1864, I submit the following report of the conduct of
that portion of the escort which I had the honor to command, and of the
part taken by them in the action of the 18th inst:--

“I marched from the camp on White-Oak Creek, with the six companies left
with me as rear-guard, about seven o’clock, a.m. When I arrived at the
junction of the Washington Road, I found the Eighteenth Iowa Infantry
and a detachment of cavalry waiting to relieve me as rear-guard. At
this moment I received your order to press forward to the front, as your
advance was skirmishing with the enemy. Upon arriving, agreeably to your
order, I placed one wing of this regiment on each side of the section of
Rabb’s Battery, to support it, and awaited further developments.

“After your cavalry had ascertained the position of the enemy’s force
on our right flank, and Lieut. Haines had planted one of his pieces in
a favorable position, I placed Companies A, B, E, and H in position to
support it. We had hardly got into position here, before our cavalry
were forced back upon our line by an overwhelming force of the enemy.
Lieut. Henderson, commanding detachment Sixth Kansas (than whom a
braver officer never existed), was severely wounded, and I ordered Corp.
Wallahan, Company M, Sixth Kansas, to form his men on my right. He had
scarcely formed them, ere Lieut. Mitchell, commanding detachment Second
Kansas Cavalry, was also driven in, when he was placed upon the extreme
right under your personal supervision.

“The line of battle was now nearly in the form of the segment, of a
circle, the convex side being outward, or toward the enemy. Companies
C and I being on the north side of the road facing toward the east;
Companies D and F on the south side of the road, facing in the same
direction, whilst on my extreme right the men were drawn up in line
facing due south. It was now about half past eleven o’clock, a.m.
These dispositions were scarcely made ere the enemy opened a severe and
well-directed fire from a six-gun battery, at the distance of about one
thousand yards. This battery was near the road, due east of our line.
At the same time a howitzer battery, reported to me as having four guns,
opened on the south opposite my right, at a distance of six or seven
hundred yards. Although this was much the severest artillery fire that
any of the men had ever before been subjected to, and many of the
men were thus under fire for the _first time_, they were as cool as
veterans, and patiently awaited the onset of the enemy’s infantry.

“Just after twelve o’clock, the enemy’s batteries slackened their fire,
and their infantry advanced to the attack. From the position of the
ground, it was useless to deliver a fire until the enemy were within one
hundred yards. I therefore reserved my fire until their first line was
within that distance, when I gave the order to fire. For about a quarter
of an hour, it seemed as though the enemy were determined to break my
lines, and capture the guns; but their attempts were fruitless, and they
were compelled to fall precipitately back, not, however, before they
had disabled more than half of the gunners belonging to the gun on the
right.

“Again they opened their infernal cross-fires with their batteries, and
through the smoke I could see them massing their infantry for another
attack. I immediately applied to you for more men.

“Companies G and K were sent me. I placed Company K upon the extreme
right (where the cavalry had rested, but which had now retired), and
Company G upon the left of Company B. Shortly after these dispositions
were made, the enemy again advanced, this time in two columns yelling
like fiends. Lieut. Macy, of Company C, whom you had sent out with
skirmishers from the left, was driven in; and I placed him, with his
small command, between Companies G and B. At this moment, yourself and
Lieut. Haines arrived on the right, and I reported to you the condition
of the gun, only two men being left to man it, when you ordered it to
the rear. Just as the boys were preparing to limber, a large body of the
enemy was observed making for the gun in close column, whereupon private
Alonzo Hendshaw, of the Second Indiana Battery, himself double-loaded
the piece with canister, and poured into the advancing column a parting
salute at the distance of about three hundred yards, and then limbered.
The effect was terrific. Our infantry redoubled their fire, and again
the massed columns sullenly retired.

“Three different times the enemy were thus repulsed; and, as they were
massing for the fourth charge, I informed you that I believed it would
be impossible to hold my position without more men on my right and
centre. You replied that I should have them if they could be spared from
other points. I held my position until you returned; when, seeing your
horse fall, I gave you mine for the purpose of going to the Eighteenth
Iowa to form them in a favorable position for my line to fall back upon.
Agreeably to your order to hold the ground at any and all events until
this could be done, I encouraged the men to renew their exertions,
and repel the coming charge, intending, if I succeeded, to take that
opportunity of falling back, instead of being compelled to do so under
fire. My right succeeded in checking the advance; but, my left being
outflanked at the same time that my left-centre was sustaining the
attack of ten times their number, I ordered to fall back slowly toward
the train, changing front toward the left, to prevent the enemy from
coming up in my rear. We here made a stand of about ten minutes, when I
perceived that the enemy had succeeded in flanking my extreme right, and
that I was placed in a position to receive a cross-fire from their two
lines. I was then compelled, in order to save even a fragment of the
gallant regiment which for nearly two hours had, unaided, sustained
itself against Price’s whole army, to order a retreat.

“Although a portion retired precipitately, the greater portion of them
kept up a continued fire the whole length of the train. I ordered the
men to retire behind the line of the Iowa Eighteenth, and form; but,
alas! four companies had lost their gallant commanders, and were
without an officer. By your aid, and the assistance of the few unharmed
officers, I succeeded in collecting a few of the command, and placing
them on the left of the Iowa Eighteenth. As they were slowly forced
backward, others took position in the line, and did all that could be
done to check the advance of the overwhelming forces of the enemy. I
sent a small force to assist Lieut. Haines in his gallant and manly
efforts to save his guns; and, had it not been for the worn condition of
the horses, I believe he would have succeeded. Accompanying this, I
send the reports of company commanders of the losses sustained by their
respective companies. It will be noticed that the heaviest punishment
was inflicted upon Company G, from the fact that it was more exposed to
the galling cross-fires of the enemy.

“You will see that I went into action with about four hundred and fifty
enlisted men, and thirteen officers of the line. Seven out of that
gallant thirteen were killed or wounded. Five are reported dead on the
field: Capt. A. J. Armstrong, Company D; Lieut. B. Hitchcock, Company G;
Lieuts. Charles J. Coleman and Joseph B. Samuels, Company H; and Lieut.
John Topping, Company B. The cheerful offering of the lives of such
noble men needs not the assistance of any studied panegyric to bespeak
for it that spirit of lasting admiration with which their memories will
ever be enshrined.

“Four companies fought their way to the rear, without a commissioned
officer. One hundred and thirteen men are killed, and sixty-nine
wounded,--some of them mortally. I cannot refrain from mentioning the
names of Capt. B. W. Welch, Company K, and Lieut. E. Q. Macy, Company
C. both of whom were wounded, as among the number of sufferers who
have earned the thanks and merit the sympathy of the loyal and
generous everywhere. Any attempt to mention the names of any soldier in
particular would be unjust, unless I mentioned all; for every one, as
far as I could see, did his duty coolly, nobly, and bravely. On the
right, where the enemy made so many repeated attempts to break my line,
I saw officers and men engaged in taking the cartridges from the bodies
of the dead; and, upon inquiring, found that their ammunition was nearly
expended.

“The brave and soldier-like Topping was killed in the first charge; and
the gallant young Coleman, commanding Company H, was shot down in the
second charge. At what particular period of the engagement the other
officers fell, I am unable to state. To Capt. John R, Gratton, Company
C; Capt. William H. Smallwood, Company G; Lieut. R. L. Harris, Company
I: Lieut. B. G. Jones, Company A; Lieut. John Overdier, Company E;
Lieut. S. S. Crepps, Company F; and Adjutant William C. Gibbons, I
would tender my heartfelt thanks, for the faithful, efficient, and manly
performance of the most arduous duties, while subjected to the hottest
fire.

“The loss in arms and clothing is quite serious; but, from the exhausted
state of the men, it is strange that as many of them brought in their
arms and accoutrements as did. Out of seventy-eight hours preceding
the action, sixty-three hours were spent by the entire command on duty,
besides a heavy picket-guard having been furnished for the remaining
fifteen hours. You are also reminded that the rations were of necessity
exceedingly short for more than a week previous to the battle.

“We were obliged to bring our wounded away the best we could, as the
rebels were seen shooting those who fell into their hands. The men who
brought in the wounded were obliged to throw away their arms; but the
most who did so waited till they reached the swamps, and then sunk them
in the bayous.

“I am, colonel, very respectfully,

“Your obedient servant,

“_R. G. WARD,_

“_Major First Kansas Colored Volunteers._‘’’

“Since this Report was published, official information has been received
at Fort Smith, that Capt. Armstrong and Lieut. Hitchcock are prisoners
of war in Arkansas, and not killed as reported.

“Yours,

“J. BOWLES,

“Lieutenant-Colonel First Kansas Volunteers.”

Eight days later, the same colored regiment had a fight with a superior
force in numbers of the rebels; and the subjoined account of the
engagement will show with what determination they fought.

“On the 29th, we skirmished in the forenoon. In the afternoon, the
venturing-out of a detachment beyond the distance ordered brought on a
severe though short general engagement. At least one hundred and twenty
of the rebel cavalry made a charge upon this detachment of twenty-four
men. Before we could bring up re-enforcements, these fearfully
disproportioned parties were engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand
encounter. I was on the field, doing, with the other officers, the
best we could to bring up re-enforcements. There was no flinching, no
hesitation, or trembling limbs among the men; but fierce determination
flashing in their eyes, and exhibiting an eager, passionate haste to
aid their comrades, and vindicate the manhood of their race. The air was
rent with their yells, as they rushed on, and the difficulty manifested
was in holding them well in rather than in faltering. Among the
detachment cut off, of whom only six escaped unhurt, nothing I have
ever seen, read, or heard in the annals of war, surpasses the desperate
personal valor exhibited by each and every man. Bayonets came in bloody,
as did the stocks of guns; and the last charge was found gone from
cartridge-boxes.

“During the fight, one poor fellow received a mortal wound, but would
not go to the rear. He told his officer that he could not live, but
would die fighting for the flag of liberty; and continued to load and
discharge his rifle until he fell dead on the field of glory.

                   “The ball had crushed a vital part,--

                        He could not long survive;

                   But, with a brave and loyal heart,

                        For victory still would strive;


                   His rifle ‘gainst the traitor foe

                   With deadly aim would ply;

                   And, till his life-blood ceased to flow,

                        Fight on for liberty.


                   His skin was of the ebon hue,

                        His heart was nobly brave:

                   To country, flag, and freedom true,

                        He would not live a slave.


                   His rifle flashed,--a traitor falls:

                        While death is in his eye,

                   He bravely to his comrades calls,

                        ‘Fight on for liberty!’


                   He looked upon his bannered sign,

                   He bowed his noble head,--

                   ‘Farewell, beloved flag of mine!’--

                        Then fell among the dead.


                   His comrades will remember well

                        The hero’s battle-cry,

                   As in the arms of death he fell,--

                        ‘Fight on for liberty!’


                   And still for liberty and laws

                        His comrades will contend,

                   Till victory crowns the righteous cause,

                        And tyrant power shall end.


                   Though low in earth the martyr lies,

                        Still rings his battle-cry:

                   From hill to hill the echo flies,--

                        ‘Fight on for liberty!’



CHAPTER XXXI--THE MASSACRE AT FORT PILLOW.


_Assault and Capture of the Fort.--“No Quarter.”--Rebel
Atrocities.--Gens. Forrest and Chalmers.--Firing upon Flags of
Truce.--Murder of Men, Women, and Children.--Night after the
Assault.--Buried Alive.--Morning after the Massacre._


Nothing in the history of the Rebellion has equalled in inhumanity and
atrocity the horrid butchery at Fort Pillow, Ky., on the 13th of April,
1864. In no other school than slavery could human beings have been
trained to such readiness for cruelties like these. Accustomed to
brutality and bestiality all their lives, it was easy for them to
perpetrate the atrocities which will startle the civilized foreign
world, as they have awakened the indignation of our own people.

We have gleaned the facts of the fight from authentic sources, and they
may be relied upon as truthful. The rebels, under Forrest, appeared, and
drove in the pickets about sunrise on Tuesday morning. The garrison
of the fort consisted of about two hundred of the Thirteenth Tennessee
Volunteers, and four hundred negro artillery, all under command of
Major Booth: the gunboat “No. 7” was also in the river. The rebels
first attacked the outer forts, and, in several attempts to charge, were
repulsed. They were constantly re-enforced, and extended their lines to
the river on both sides of the fort. The garrison in the two outer forts
was at length overpowered by superior numbers, and about noon evacuated
them, and retired to the fort on the river. Here the fight was
maintained with great obstinacy, and continued till about four, p.m. The
approach to the fort from the rear is over a gentle declivity, cleared,
and fully exposed to a raking fire from two sides of the fort. About
thirty yards from the fort is a deep ravine, running all along the
front, and so steep at the bottom as to be hidden from the fort, and not
commanded by its guns. The rebels charged with great boldness dawn the
declivity, and faced, without blanching, a murderous fire from the guns
and small-arms of the fort, and crowded into the ravine; where they were
sheltered from fire by the steep bank, which had been thus left by some
unaccountable neglect or ignorance. Here the rebels organized for a
final charge upon the fort, after sending a flag of truce with a demand
for surrender, which was refused. The approach from the ravine was up
through a deep, narrow gully, and the steep embankments of the fort. The
last charge was made about four, p.m., by the whole rebel force, and was
successful after a most desperate and gallant defence. The rebel army
was estimated at from two thousand to four thousand, and succeeded by
mere force of numbers. The gunboat had not been idle, but, guided by
signals from the fort, poured upon the rebels a constant stream of shot
and shell. She fired two hundred and sixty shells, and, as testified to
by those who could see, with marvellous precision and with fatal effect.
Major Booth, who was killed near the close of the fight, conducted the
defence with great coolness, skill, and gallantry. His last signal to
the boat was, “We are hard pressed and shall be overpowered.” He refused
to surrender, however, and fought to the last. By the uniform and
voluntary, testimony of the rebel officers, as well as the survivors
of the fight, the negro-artillery regiments fought with the bravery and
coolness of veterans, and served the guns with skill and precision.
They did not falter nor flinch, until, at the last charge, when it
was evident they would be overpowered, they broke, and fled toward the
river: and here commenced the most barbarous and cruel outrages that
ever the fiendishness of rebels has perpetrated during the war.

After the rebels were in undisputed possession of the fort, and the
survivors had surrendered, they commenced the indiscriminate butchery
of all the Federal soldiery. The colored soldiers threw down their
guns, and raised their arms, in token of surrender; but not the least
attention was paid to it. They continued to shoot down all they found. A
number of them, finding no quarter was given, ran over the bluff to the
river, and tried to conceal themselves under the bank and in the bushes,
where they were pursued by the rebel savages, whom they implored to
spare their lives. Their appeals were made in vain; and they were all
shot down in cold blood, and, in full sight of the gunboat, chased and
shot down like dogs. In passing up the bank of the river, fifty dead
might be counted, strewed along. One had crawled into a hollow log, and
was killed in it; another had got over the bank into the river, and had
got on a board that run out into the water. He lay on it on his face,
with his feet in the water. He lay there, when exposed, stark and stiff.
Several had tried to hide in crevices made by the falling bank, and
could not be seen without difficulty; but they were singled out, and
killed. From the best information to be had, the white soldiers were, to
a very considerable extent, treated in the same way. H. W. Harrison, one
of the Thirteenth Tennessee on board, says, that, after the surrender,
he was below the bluff, and one of the rebels presented a pistol to
shoot him. He told him he had surrendered, and requested him not to
fire. He spared him, and directed him to go up the bluff to the fort.
Harrison asked him to go before him, or he would be shot by others; but
he told him to go along. He started, and had not proceeded far before he
met a rebel, who presented his pistol. Harrison begged him not to fire;
but, paying no attention to his request, he fired, and shot him through
the shoulder; and another shot him in the leg. He fell; and, while he
lay unable to move, another came along, and was about to fire again,
when Harrison told him he was badly wounded twice, and implored him not
to fire. He asked Harrison if he had any money. He said he had a little
money, and a watch. The rebel took from him his watch and ninety dollars
in money, and left him. Harrison is, probably, fatally wounded. Several
such cases have been related to me; and I think, to a great extent,
the whites and negroes were indiscriminately murdered. The rebel
Tennesseeans have about the same bitterness against Tennesseeans in the
Federal army, as against the negroes. It was told by a rebel officer
that Gen. Forrest shot one of his men, and cut another with his sabre,
who were shooting down prisoners. It may be so; but he is responsible
for the conduct of his men. Gen. Chalmers stated publicly, while on the
Platte Valley, that, though he did not encourage or countenance his men
in shooting down negro captives, yet it was right and justifiable.

The negro corporal, Jacob Wilson, who was picked up below Fort Pillow,
had a narrow escape. He was down on the river-bank, and, seeing that no
quarter was shown, stepped into the water so that he lay partly under
it. A rebel coming along asked him what was the matter: he said he was
badly wounded; and the rebel, after taking from his pocket all the money
he had, left him. It happened to be near by a flat-boat tied to the
bank, and about three o’clock in the morning. When all was quiet, Wilson
crawled into it, and got three more wounded comrades also into it, and
cut loose. The boat floated out into the channel, and was found ashore
some miles below. The wounded negro soldiers aboard feigned themselves
dead until Union soldiers came along.

The atrocities committed almost exceed belief; and, but for the fact
that so many confirm the stories, we could not credit them. One man,
already badly wounded, asked of a scoundrel who was firing at him, to
spare his life. “No: damn you!” was the reply. “You fight with niggers!”
 and forthwith discharged two more balls into him. One negro was made
to assist in digging a pit to bury the dead in, and was himself cast in
among others, and buried. Five are known to have been buried alive: of
these, two dug themselves out, and are now alive, and in the hospital.
Daniel Tyler, of Company B, was shot three times, and struck on the
head, knocking out his eye. After this, he was buried; but, not liking
his quarters, dug out. He laughs over his adventures, and says he is one
of the best “dug-outs” in the world.

Dr. Fitch says he saw twenty white soldiers paraded in line on the bank
of the river; and, when in line, the rebels fired upon and killed
all but one, who ran to the river, and hid under a log, and in that
condition was fired at a number of times, and wounded. He says that
Major Bradford also ran down to the river, and, after he told them that
he had surrendered, more than fifty shots were fired at him. He then
jumped into the river, and swam out a little ways, and whole volleys
were fired at him there without hitting him. He returned to the shore,
and meeting, as the doctor supposes, some officer, was protected; but he
heard frequent threats from the rebels that they would kill him.

“Yesterday afternoon,” says “The Cairo News” of April 16, “we visited
the United-States Hospital at Mound City, and had an interview with the
wounded men from Fort Pillow.

“The Fort-Pillow wounded are doing much better than could be expected
from the terrible nature of their wounds. But one, William Jones, had
died, though Adjutant Bearing and Lieut. John H. Porter cannot possibly
long survive. Of the whole number,--fifty-two,--all except two were cut
or shot after they had surrendered! They all tell the same story of the
rebel barbarities; and listening to a recital of the terrible scenes at
the fort makes one’s blood run cold. They say they were able to keep the
rebels at bay for several hours, notwithstanding the immense disparity
of numbers; and, but for their treachery in creeping up under the walls
of the fort while a truce was pending, would have held out until ‘The
Olive Branch’ arrived with troops, with whose assistance they would have
defeated Chalmers.

“So well were our men protected behind their works, that our loss
was very trifling before the rebels scaled the walls, and obtained
possession. As soon as they saw the Rebels inside the walls, the
Unionists ceased firing, knowing that further resistance was useless;
but the Rebels continued firing, crying out, ‘Shoot them, shoot them!
Show them no quarter!’

“The Unionists, with one or two exceptions, had thrown down their arms
in token of surrender, and therefore could offer no resistance. In vain
they held up their hands, and begged their captors to spare their lives.
But they were appealing to fiends; and the butchery continued until, out
of near six hundred men who composed the garrison, but two hundred and
thirty remained alive: and of this number, sixty-two were wounded, and
nine died in a few hours after.

“Capt. Bradford, of the First Alabama Cavalry, was an especial object of
rebel hatred, and his death was fully determined upon before the assault
was made. After he had surrendered, he was basely shot; but, having
his revolver still at his side, he emptied it among a crowd of rebels,
bringing three of the scoundrels to the ground. The massacre was
acquiesced in by most of the rebel officers, Chalmers himself expressly
declaring that ‘home-made Yankees and negroes should receive no
quarter.’”

The following is an extract from the Report of the Committee on the
Conduct of the War on the Fort-Pillow Massacre:--

“It will appear from the testimony that was taken, that the atrocities
committed at Fort Pillow were not the results of passion elicited by the
heat of conflict, but were the results of a policy deliberately decided
upon, and unhesitatingly announced. Even if the uncertainty of the
fate of those officers and men belonging to colored regiments, who have
heretofore been taken prisoners by the rebels, has failed to convince
the authorities of our Government of this fact, the testimony herewith
submitted must convince even the most sceptical, that it is the
intention of the rebel authorities not to recognize the officers and men
of our colored regiments as entitled to the treatment accorded by all
civilized nations to prisoners of war.

“The declarations of Forrest and his officers, both before and after
the capture of Fort Pillow, as testified to by such of our men as have
escaped after being taken by him; the threats contained in the various
demands for surrender made at Paducah, Columbus, and other places; the
renewal of the massacre the morning after the capture of Fort Pillow;
the statements made by the rebel officers to the officers of our
gunboats who received the few survivors at Fort Pillow,--all this proves
most conclusively the policy they have determined to adopt.

“It was at Fort Pillow that the brutality and cruelty of the rebels
were most fearfully exhibited. The garrison there, according to the
last returns received at headquarters, amounted to ten officers and five
hundred and thirty-eight enlisted men, of whom two hundred and
sixty-two were colored troops, comprising one battalion of the Sixteenth
United-States Heavy Artillery, formerly the First Alabama Artillery of
colored troops, under the command of Major L. F. Booth; one section of
the Second Light Artillery (colored); and a battalion of the Thirteenth
Tennessee Cavalry (white ), commanded by Major A. F. Bradford. Major
Booth was the ranking officer, and was in command of the fort.

“Immediately after the second flag of truce retired, the rebels made a
rush from the positions they had so treacherously gained, and obtained
possession of the fort, raising the cry of ‘No quarter.’ But little
opportunity was allowed for resistance. Our troops, white and black,
threw down their arms, and sought to escape by running down the steep
bluff near the fort, and secreting themselves behind trees and logs
in the brush, and under the brush; some even jumping into the river,
leaving only their heads above the water. Then followed a scene of
cruelty and murder without parallel in civilized warfare, which needed
but the tomahawk and scalping-knife to exceed the worst atrocities ever
committed by savages.

“The rebels commenced an indiscriminate slaughter, sparing neither age
nor sex, white nor black, soldier nor civilian. The officers and men
seemed to vie with each other in the devilish work. Men, women, and
children, wherever found, were deliberately shot down, beaten, and
hacked with sabres. Some of the children not more than ten years old
were forced to stand up by their murderers while being shot. The sick
and wounded were butchered without mercy; the rebels even entering the
hospital-buildings, and dragging them out to be shot, or killing them
as they lay there unable to offer the least resistance. All over the
hillside the work of murder was going on. Numbers of our men were
collected together in lines or groups, aud deliberately shot. Some were
shot while in the river; while others on the bank were shot, and their
bodies kicked into the water, many of them still living, but unable to
make exertions to save themselves from drowning.

“Some of the rebels stood upon the top of the hill, or a short distance
from its side, and called to our soldiers to come up to them, and, as
they approached, shot them down in cold blood; and, if their guns or
pistols missed fire, forced them to stand there until they were again
prepared to fire. All around were heard cries of ‘No quarter, no
quarter!’ ‘Kill the d----d niggers, shoot them down!7 All who asked
for mercy were answered by the most cruel taunts and sneers. Some were
spared for a time, only to be murdered under circumstances of greater
cruelty.

“No cruelty which the most fiendish malignity could devise was omitted by
these murderers. One white soldier who was wounded in the leg so as to
be unable to walk was made to stand up while his tormentors shot him.
Others who were wounded, and unable to stand up, were held up and again
shot. One negro who had been ordered by a rebel officer to hold his
horse was killed by him when he remonstrated; another, a mere child,
whom an officer had taken up behind him on his horse, was seen by Gen.
Chalmers, who at once ordered him to put him down and shoot him, which
was done.

“The huts and tents in which many of the wounded sought shelter were set
on fire, both on that night and the next morning, while the wounded were
still in them; those only escaping who were able to get themselves out,
or who could prevail on others less injured to help them out: and some
of these thus seeking to escape the flames were met by these ruffians,
and brutally shot down, or had their brains beaten out. One man was
deliberately fastened down to the floor of a tent, face upwards, by
means of nails driven through his clothing and into the boards under
him, so that he could not possibly escape; and then the tent was set on
fire. Another was nailed to the sides of a building outside of the fort,
and then the building was set on fire and burned. The charred remains of
five or six bodies were afterwards found, all but one so much disfigured
and consumed by the flames, that they could not be identified; and the
identification of that one is not absolutely certain, although there
can hardly be a doubt that it was the body of Lieut. Albertson,
Quartermaster of the Thirteenth Virginia Cavalry, and a native
of Tennessee. Several witnesses who saw the remains, and who were
personally acquainted with him while living here, testified it to be
their firm belief that it was his body that was thus treated.

“These deeds of murder and cruelty closed when night came on, only to
be renewed the next morning, when the demons carefully sought among the
dead lying about in all directions for any other wounded yet alive; and
those they found were deliberately shot. Scores of the dead and wounded
were found there the day after the massacre by the men from some of our
gunboats, who were permitted to go on shore, and collect the wounded,
and bury the dead.

“The rebels themselves had made a pretence of burying a great many of
their victims; but they had merely thrown them, without the least regard
to care or decency, in the trenches and ditches about the fort, or
little hollows and ravines on the hillside, covering them but partially
with earth. Portions of heads and faces were found protruding through
the earth in every direction; and even when your Committee visited the
spot, two weeks afterwards, although parties of men had been sent on
shore from time to time to bury the bodies unburied, and re-bury the
others, and were even then engaged in the same work, we found the
evidences of the murder and cruelty still most painfully apparent.

“We saw bodies still unburied, at some distance from the fort, of some
sick men who had been met fleeing from the hospital, and beaten down and
brutally murdered, and their bodies left where they had fallen. We
could still see the faces and hands and feet of men, white and black,
protruding out of the ground, whose graves had not been reached by those
engaged in re-interring the victims of the massacre; and, although
a great deal of rain had fallen within the preceding two weeks, the
ground, more especially on the side and at the foot of the bluff where
most of the murders had been committed, was still discolored by the
blood of our brave but unfortunate soldiers; and the logs and trees
showed but too plainly the evidences of the atrocities perpetrated.

“Many other instances of equally, atrocious cruelty might be mentioned;
but your Committee feel compelled to refrain from giving here more of
the heart-sickening details, and refer to the statements contained
in the voluminous testimony herewith submitted. These statements were
obtained by them from eye-witnesses and sufferers. Many of them as
they were examined by your Committee were lying upon beds of pain and
suffering; some so feeble that their lips could with difficulty frame
the words by which they endeavored to convey some idea of the cruelties
which had been inflicted on them, and which they had seen inflicted on
others.”

When the murderers returned, the day after the capture, to renew
their fiendish work upon the wounded and dying, they found a young and
beautiful mulatto woman searching among the dead for the body of
her husband. She was the daughter of a wealthy and influential rebel
residing at Columbus. With her husband, this woman was living near the
fort when our forces occupied it, and joined the Union men to assist in
holding the place. Going from body to body with all the earnestness with
which love could inspire an affectionate heart, she at last found the
object of her search. He was not dead; but both legs were broken. The
wife had succeeded in getting him out from among the piles of dead, and
was bathing his face, and giving him water to drink from a pool near by,
which had been replenished by the rain that fell a few hours before. At
this moment she was seen by the murderous band; and the cry was at once
raised, “Kill the wench, kill her!” The next moment the sharp crack of
a musket was heard, and the angel of mercy fell a corpse on the body
of her wounded husband, who was soon after knocked in the head by the
butt-end of the same weapon. Though these revolting murders were done
under the immediate eye of Gen. Chalmers, the whole was planned and
carried out by Gen. Forrest whose inhumanity has never been surpassed in
the history of civilized or even barbarous warfare.



CHAPTER XXXII--INJUSTICE TO COLORED TROOPS.


_The Pay of the Men.--Government refuses to keep its Promise.--Efforts
of Gov. Andrew to have Justice done.--Complaint of the Men.
--Mutiny.--Military Murder.--Everlasting Shame._


When the War Department commenced recruiting colored men as soldiers
in Massachusetts, New Orleans, and Hilton Head, it was done with the
promise that these men should receive the same pay, clothing, and
treatment that white soldiers did. The same was promised at Camp William
Penn, at Philadelphia. After several regiments had been raised and put
in the field, the War Department decided to pay them but ten dollars per
month, without clothing. The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers,
and the Fifty-fifth, were both in South Carolina when this decision was
made; yet the Government held on to the men who had thus been obtained
under false pretences. Dissatisfaction showed itself as soon as this was
known among the colored troops. Still the blacks performed their duty,
hoping that Congress would see that justice was done to them. The men
refused to receive less than was their just due when the paymaster came
round, as the following will show:--

“_Hilton Head, S.C., Feb. 6,1864_.

“Samuel Harrison, Chaplain of the Fifty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts
Volunteers (colored troops), asks pay at the usual rate of
chaplains,--one hundred dollars per month and two rations, which, he
being of African descent, I decline paying, under Act of Congress, July
17, 1862, which authorizes the employment of persons of African descent
in the army. The chaplain declines receiving any thing less.

“_Paymaster, United-States Army.”_

It was left, however, for Massachusetts to take the lead, both by her
governor, and by her colored soldiers in the field, to urge upon the
Congress and the Administration the black man’s claims. To the honor of
John A. Andrew, the patriotic Chief Magistrate of the Bay State during
the Rebellion, justice was demanded again and again. The following will
show his feelings upon the subject:--

His Excellency Gov. Andrew, in a letter dated Executive Department,
Boston, Aug. 24, and addressed to Mr. Frederick Johnson, an officer in
the regiment, says,--

“I have this day received your letter of the 10th of August, and in
reply desire, in the first place, to express to you the lively interest
with which I have watched every step of the Fifty-fourth Regiment since
it left Massachusetts, and the feelings of pride and admiration with
which I have learned and read the accounts of the heroic conduct of
the regiment in the attack upon Fort Wagner, when you and your brave
soldiers so well proved their manhood, and showed themselves to be
true soldiers of Massachusetts. As to the matter inquired about in your
letter, you may rest assured that I shall not rest until you shall
have secured all of your rights, and that I have no doubt whatever of
ultimate success. I have no doubt, by law, you are entitled to the same
pay as other soldiers; and, on the authority of the Secretary of War, I
promised that you should be paid and treated in all respects like other
soldiers of Massachusetts. Till this is done, I feel that my promise
is dishonored by the Government. The whole difficulty arises from a
misapprehension, the correction of which will no doubt be made as soon
as I can get the subject fully examined by the Secretary of War.

“I have the honor to be your obedient servant,

“_JOHN A. ANDREW,_

“_Governor of Massachusetts._”

The subjoined letter, from a soldier of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts
Volunteers, needs no explanation:--

“We are still anticipating the arrival of the day when the Government
will do justice to the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Regiments, and pay
us what is justly our due.

“We have fought like men; we have worked like men; we have been ready at
every call of duty, and thus have proved ourselves to be men: but still
we are refused the thirteen dollars per month.

“Oh, what a shame it is to be treated thus! Some of us have wives and
little children, who are looking for succor and support from their
husbands and fathers; but, alas! they look in vain. The answer to the
question, ‘When shall we be able to assist them?’ is left wholly to the
Congress of the United States.

“What will the families of those poor comrades of ours who fell at
James’s Island, Fort Wagner, and Olus-tee, do? They must suffer; for
their husbands and fathers have gone the way of all the earth. They have
gone to join that number that John saw, and to rest at the right hand of
God.

“Our hearts pine in bitter anguish when we look back to our loved ones
at home, and we are compelled to shed many a briny tear. We have offered
our lives a sacrifice for a country that has not the magnanimity to
treat us as men. All that we ask is the rights of other soldiers, the
liberty of other free men. If we cannot have these, give us an honorable
discharge from the United-States service, and we will not ask for pay.

“We came here to fight for liberty and country, and not for money (we
would scorn to do that); but they promised us, if we would enlist, they
would give us thirteen dollars per month.

“It was all false. They only wanted to get the halter over our heads,
and then say, ‘Get out if you can.’

“Sir, the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Regiments would sooner consent to
fight for the whole three years, gratis, than to be put upon the footing
of contrabands.

“It is not that we think ourselves any better than they; for we are not.
We know that God ‘hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell
on all the face of the earth;’ but we have enlisted as Massachusetts
Volunteers, and we will not surrender that proud position, come what
may.”

Sergt. William Walker, of Company A, Third South-Carolina colored
troops, feeling that he and his associates were unjustly dealt with,
persuaded his company to go to their captain’s tent, and stack their
muskets, and refuse duty till paid. They did so, and the following was
the result:--


CONDEMNED AND SHOT FOR MUTINY.

“Sergt. William Walker, of Company A, Third South-Carolina colored
troops, was yesterday killed, in accordance with the sentence of a
court-martial. He had declared he would no longer remain a soldier for
seven dollars per month, and had brought his company to stack their arms
before their captain’s tent, refusing to do duty until they should
be paid thirteen dollars a month, as had been agreed when they were
enlisted by Col. Saxon. He was a smart soldier and an able man,
dangerous as leader in a revolt. His last moments were attended by
Chaplain Wilson, Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, and Chaplain Moore, of
the Second South-Carolina colored troops. The execution took place at
Jacksonville, Fla., in presence of the regiments there in garrison. He
met his death unflinchingly. Out of eleven shots first fired, but one
struck him. A reserve firing-party had been provided, and by these he
was shot to death.

“The mutiny for which this man suffered death arose entirely out of the
inconsistent and contradictory orders of the Paymaster and the Treasury
Department at Washington.”--_Beaufort (S.C.) Cor. Tribune._

The United-States Paymaster visited the Department three times, and
offered to pay laborers’ wages, of ten dollars per month, to the
Massachusetts Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth, which to a man they refused,
saying, “‘Tis an insult, after promising us a soldier’s pay, and calling
upon us to do a soldier’s duty (and faithfully has it been performed),
to offer us the wages of a laborer, who is not called upon to peril his
life for his country.” Finding that the Government had tried to force
them to take this reduced pay, Massachusetts sent down agents to make
up the difference to them out of the State Treasury, trusting, that, ere
long, the country would acknowledge them as on an equality with the rest
of the army. But, in a manner that must redound to their credit, they
refused it. Said they, “‘Tis the principle, not the money, that we
contend for: we will either be paid as soldiers, or fight without
reward.” This drew down upon them the hatred of the other colored troops
(for those regiments raised in the South were, promised but ten dollars,
as the Government also took care of their families), and they had
to bear much from them; but they did not falter. Standing by their
expressed determination to have justice done them, they quietly
performed their duties, only praying earnestly that every friend of
theirs at the North would help the Government to see what a blot rests
on its fair fame,--a betrayal of the trust reposed in them by the
colored race.

When they rushed forward to save our army from being slaughtered at
Olustee, it was the irrepressible negro humor, with something more than
a dash of sarcasm, that prompted the battle-cry, “Three cheers for Old
Massachusetts, and seven dollars a month!” (Three dollars were reserved
by Government for clothes.)

Another soldier, a member of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, complains as
follows:--

“Eleven months have now passed away, and still we are without our pay.
How our families are to live and pay house-rent I know not. Uncle Sam
has long wind, and expects as much of us as any soldiers in the field;
but, if we cannot get any pay, what have we to stimulate us?

“To work the way this regiment has for day’s, weeks, nay, months, and
yet to get no money to send to our wives, children, and mothers, who are
now suffering, would cause the blush of shame to mantle the cheek of a
cannibal, were he our paymaster.

“But we will suffer all the days of our appointed time with patience,
only let us know that we are doing some good, make manifest, too, that
we are making men (and women) of our race; let us know that prejudice,
the curse of the North as slavery is the curse of the South, is
breaking, slowly but surely; then we will suffer more, work faster,
fight harder, and stand firmer than before.”



CHAPTER XXXIII.--BATTLE OF HONEY HILL, SOUTH CAROLINA.


_Union Troops.--The March.--The Enemy.--The Swamp.--Earthworks.--The
Battle.--Desperate Fighting.--Great Bravery.--Col.
Hartwell.--Fifty-fifth Massachusetts.--The Dying and the Dead.--The
Retreat.--The Enemy’s Position.--Earthworks.--His Advantages.--The
Union Forces.--The Blacks.--Our Army outnumbered by the Rebels.--Their
concealed Batteries.--Skirmishing.--The Rebels retreat to their
Base.--The Battle.--Great Bravery of our Men.--The Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts saves the Army._


Honey Hill is about two and a half miles east of the village of
Grahamville, Beaufort District. On the crest of this, where the road or
the highway strikes it, is a semicircular line of earthworks, defective,
though, in construction, as they are too high for infantry, and have
little or no exterior slope. These works formed the centre of the rebel
lines; while their left reached up into the pine-lands, and their right
along a line of fence that skirted the swamp below the batteries. They
commanded fully the road in front as it passes through the swamp at the
base of the hill, and only some fifty or sixty yards distant. Through
the swamp runs a small creek, which spreads up and down the roads for
some thirty or forty yards, but is quite shallow the entire distance.
Some sixty yards beyond this creek, the main road turns off to the left,
making an obtuse angle; while another and smaller road makes off to the
right from the same point.

The Union forces consisted of six thousand troops, artillery, cavalry,
and infantry, all told, under the command of Major-Gen. J. G. Foster;
Gen. John P. Hatch having the immediate command. The First Brigade,
under Gen. E. E. Potter, was composed of the Fifty-sixth and One Hundred
and Forty-fourth United-States, Twenty-fifth Ohio, and Thirty-fourth and
Thirty-fifth United-States (colored). The Second Brigade, under Col.
A. S. Hartwell, was composed of the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts, and Twenty-sixth and Thirty-second United-States
(colored). Col. E. P. Hallowed, of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, had,
in spite of his express desire, been left behind in command of Morris
and Folly Islands. As at the battle of Olustee, the enemy was met in
small numbers some three or four miles from his base, and, retreating,
led our army into the swamp, and up to his earthworks. So slight was the
fighting as our troops approached the fort, that all the men seemed in
high glee, especially the colored portion, which was making the woods
ring with the following song:--

                   “Ho, boys, chains are breaking;

                   Bondsmen fast awaking;

                   Tyrant hearts are quaking;

                   Southward we are making.

                        Huzza! Huzza!


                        Our song shall be

                        Huzza! Huzza!

                        That we are free!

                   For Liberty we fight,--

                   Our own, our brother’s, right:

                   We’ll face Oppression’s blight

                   In Freedom’s earnest might.

                        Huzza! Huzza! &c.


                   For now as men we stand

                   Defending Fatherland:

                   With willing heart and hand,

                   In this great cause we band.

                        Huzza! Huzza! &c.


                   Our flag’s Red, White, and Blue:

                   We’ll bear it marching through,

                   With rifles swift and true,

                   And bayonets gleaming too.

                        Huzza! Huzza! &c.


                   Now for the Union cheers,

                        Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!

                   For home and loved ones tears,

                   For rebel foes no fears.

                        Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!

                   And joy that conflict nears.

                        Huzza! Huzza!

                        Our song shall be

                        Huzza! Huzza!

                        That we are free!


                   No more the driver’s horn

                   Awakes us in the morn;

                   But battle’s music borne,

                   Our manhood shall adorn.

                        Huzza! Huzza! &c.


                   No more for trader’s gold

                   Shall those we love be sold;

                   Nor crushed be manhood bold

                   In slavery’s dreaded fold.

                        Huzza! Huzza! &c.


                   But each and all be free

                   As singing-bird in tree,

                   Or winds that whistling flee

                   O’er mountain, vale, and sea.

                        Huzza! Huzza! &c.

The Union forces approached the fort by the left road, which brought
them in front of the enemy’s guns pointing down the hill, which was also
down the road. An eyewitness of the battle gives the following account
of it:--

“The Thirty-second United-States colored troops were ordered to charge
the rebel fort as soon as we had got in position at the head of the
road. They attempted, but got stuck in the marsh, which they found
impassable at the point of their assault; and a galling fire of grape,
canister, and musketry, being opened on them, they were forced to
retire.

“The Thirty-fourth United-States colored troops also essayed an assault,
but could not get near enough to produce any effect upon it. These
regiments, however, only fell back to the line of battle, where they
remained throughout the entire fight.

“The Fifty-fifth Massachusetts (colored) went into the fight on the
right of the brigade, commanded by Col. Hartwell. The fire became very
hot; but still the regiment did not waver,--the line merely quivered.
Capt. Goraud, of Gen. Foster’s staff, whose gallantry was conspicuous
all day, rode up just as Col. Hartwell was wounded in the hand, and
advised him to retire; but the colonel declined.

“Col. Hartwell gave the order: the colors came to the extreme front,
when the colonel shouted, ‘Follow your colors!’ The bugle sounded the
charge, and then the colonel led the way himself.

“After an unsuccessful charge in line of battle by the Fifty-fourth
and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, the Fifty-fifth was formed in column by
company, and again thrice marched up that narrow causeway in the face of
the enemy’s batteries and musketry.

“Capt. Crane, of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, whose company had been
left in charge of Fort Delafield, at Folly Island, but who, at his own
request, had gone as aide to Col. Hartwell, was, as well as the colonel,
mounted.

“Just as they reached the marsh in front of the turn in the road, and
within a short distance of the rebel works, the horse of brave Col.
Hartwell, while struggling through the mud, was literally blown in
pieces by a discharge of canister.

“The colonel was wounded at the same time, and attempted to jump from
his horse; but the animal fell on him, pressing him into the mud. At
this time, he was riding at the side of the column, and the men pressed
on past; but, as they neared the fort, they met a murderous fire of
grape, canister, and bullets at short range. As the numbers of the
advance were thinned, the few who survived began to waver, and finally
the regiment retreated.

“In retiring, Lieut. Ellsworth, and one man of the Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts, came to the rescue of Col. Hartwell, and in spite of his
remonstrance that they should leave him to his Tate, and take care of
themselves, released him from his horse, and bore him from the field.
But, before he was entirely out of range of the enemy’s fire, the
colonel was again wounded, and the brave private soldier who was
assisting was killed, and another heroic man lost.

“The Twenty-fifth Ohio, soon after the commencement of the engagement,
were sent to the right, where they swung round, and fought on a line
nearly perpendicular to our main front. A portion of the Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts were with them. One or two charges were essayed, but
were unsuccessful; but the front was maintained there throughout the
afternoon. The Twenty-fifth had the largest loss of all the regiments.

“The colored troops fought well throughout the day. Countercharges were
made at various times during the fight by the enemy; but our infantry
and artillery mowed them down, and they did not at any time get very
near our lines. Whenever a charge of our men was repulsed, the rebels
would flock out of their works, whooping like Indians; but Ames’s guns
and the terrible volleys of our infantry would send them back. The Naval
Brigade behaved splendidly.

“The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, heroes of all the  hard fights that
have occurred in the department, were too much scattered in this battle
to do full justice to themselves. Only two companies went into the
fight at first, under Lieut.-Col. Hooper. They were posted on the left.
Subsequently they were joined by four more companies, who were left on
duty in the rear.

“Many scenes transpired in this battle which would furnish rich material
for the artist. In the midst of the engagement, a shell exploded amongst
the color-guard, severely wounding the color-sergeant, Ring, who
was afterwards killed by a bullet. Private Fitzgerald, of Company D,
Massachusetts Fifty-fifth, was badly wounded in the side and leg, but
remained at his post. Major Nutt, seeing his condition, ordered him to
the rear. The man obeyed; but soon the major saw that he had returned,
when he spoke sharply, ‘Go to the rear, and have your wounds dressed.’
The man again obeyed the order; but in a few minutes more was seen by
the major, with a handkerchief bound around the leg, and loading and
firing. The major said to our informant, ‘I thought I would let him
stay.’”

Like the Fifty-fourth at Olustee, the Fifty-fifth was the last regiment
to leave the field, and cover the retreat at Honey Hill. The following
account of the battle is from “The Savannah Republican v (rebel),
published a few days after the fight:--

“The negroes, as usual, formed the advance, and had nearly reached the
creek, when our batteries opened upon them down the road with a terrible
volley of spherical case. This threw them into temporary confusion; but
the entire force, estimated at five thousand, was quickly restored to
order, and thrown into a line of battle parallel with our own, up and
down the margin of the swamp. Thus the battle raged from eleven in the
morning till dark. The enemy’s centre and left were most exposed, and
suffered terribly. Their right was posted behind an old dam that ran
through the swamp, and it maintained its position till the close of the
fight. Our left was very much exposed, and an attempt was once or twice
made by the enemy to turn it by advancing through the swamp, and up the
hill; but they were driven back without a prolonged struggle.

“The centre and left of the enemy fought; with a desperate earnestness.
Several attempts were made to charge our batteries, and many got nearly
across the swamp, but were, in every instance, forced back by the
galling fire poured into them from our lines. We made a visit to the
field the day following, and found the road literally strewn with their
dead. Some eight or ten bodies were floating in the water where the road
crosses; and in a ditch on the roadside, just beyond, we saw six negroes
piled one on top of the other. A colonel of one of the negro regiments,
with his horse, was killed while fearlessly leading his men across the
creek in a charge.

“With that exception, all the dead and wounded officers were carried off
by the enemy during the night. Many traces were left where they were
dragged from the woods to the road, and thrown into ambulances or carts.
We counted some sixty or seventy bodies in the space of about an acre,
many of which were horribly mutilated by shells; some with half their
heads shot off, and others completely disembowelled. The artillery was
served with great accuracy, and wo doubt if any battle-field of the war
presents such havoc among the trees and shrubbery. Immense pines and
other growth were cut short off or torn into shreds.”

It is only simple justice to the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment,
to say, that at Honey Hill it occupied the most perilous position
throughout nearly the entire battle.

Three times did these heroic men march up the hill nearly to the
batteries, and as many times were swept back by the fearful storm of
grape-shot and shell; more than one hundred being cut down in less than
half an hour. Great was its loss; and yet it remained in the gap, while
our outnumbered army was struggling with the foe on his own soil, and in
the stronghold chosen by himself.

What the valiant Fifty-fourth Massachusetts had been at the battle of
Olustee, the Fifty-fifth was at Honey Hill.

Never was self-sacrifice, by both officers and men, more apparent than
on this occasion; never did men look death more calmly in the face. See
the undaunted and heroic Hartwell at the head of his regiment, and hear
him shouting, “Follow your colors, my brave men!” and with drawn sword
leading his gallant band. His horse is up to its knees in the heavy mud.
The rider, already wounded, is again struck by the fragment of a shell,
but keeps his seat; while the spirited animal struggling in the mire,
and plunging about, attracts the attention of the braves, who are
eagerly pressing forward to meet the enemy, to retake the lost ground,
and gain a victory, or at least save the little army from defeat. A
moment more he is killed; and the brave Hartwell attempts to jump from
his charger, but is too weak. The horse falls with fearful struggles
upon its rider, and both are buried in the mud. The brave Capt. Crane,
the Adjutant, is killed, and falls from his horse near his colonel.
Lieut. Boynton, while urging his men, is killed. Lieut. Hill is wounded,
but still keeps his place. Capts. Soule and Woodward are both wounded,
and yet keep their command. The blood is running freely from the mouth
of Lieut. Jewett; but he does not leave his company. Sergeant-major
Trotter is wounded, but still fights. Sergt. Shorter is wounded in
the knee, yet will not go to the rear. A shell tears off the foot of
Sergeant-major Charles L. Mitchel; and, as he is carried to the rear,
he shouts, with uplifted hand, “Cheer up, boys: we’ll never surrender!”
 But look away in front: there are the colors, and foremost amongst the
bearers is Robert M. King, the young, the handsome, and the gentlemanly
sergeant, whose youth and bravery attract the attention of all. Scarcely
more than twenty years of age, well educated, he has left a good home in
Ohio to follow the fortunes of war, and to give his life to help redeem
his race. The enemy train their guns upon the colors, the roar of cannon
and crack of rifle is heard, the advanced flag falls, the heroic King is
killed: no, he is not dead, but only wounded. A fellow sergeant seizes
the colors; but the bearer will not give them up. He rises, holds the
old flag aloft with one hand, and presses the other upon the wound in
his side to stop the blood. “Advance the colors!” shouts the commander.
The brave King, though saturated with his own blood, is the first to
obey the order. As he goes forward, a bullet passes through his heart,
and he falls. Another snatches the colors; but they are fast, the grasp
of death holds them tight. The hand is at last forced open, the flag is
raised to the breeze; and the lifeless body of Robert M. King is borne
from the field. This is but a truthful sketch of the part played by one
heroic son of Africa, whose death was lamented by all who knew him. This
is only one of the two hundred and forty-nine that fell on the field of
Honey Hill. With a sad heart, we turn away from the picture.

But shall we weep for the sleeping braves, who, turning their backs upon
the alluring charms of home-life, went forth at the call of country
and race, and died, noble martyrs to the cause of liberty? ‘Tis noble to
_live_ for freedom; but is it not nobler far to _die_ that those coming
after you may enjoy it?

               “Dear is the spot where Christians weep;

                   Sweet are the strains which angels pour:

               Oh! why should we in anguish weep?

                   They are not lost, but gone before.”



CHAPTER XXXIV--BEFORE PETERSBURG AND RICHMOND.


_Assault and Failure.--Who to Blame.--Heroic Conduct of the Blacks.--The
Mine.--Success at the Second Attack.--Death of a Gallant Negro.--A Black
Officer._


When the mining assault on Petersburg failed, with such fearful loss in
killed and wounded, the cry went through the land that it was owing
to the cowardice of the negro troops; but this falsehood was very soon
exploded. However, it will be well to state the facts connected with
the attempt. A writer in “The New-York Evening Post” gave the following
account of the preparation, attack, and failure, a few days alter it
occurred:--

“We have been continually notified for the last fortnight, that our
sappers were mining the enemy’s position. As soon as ready, our division
was to storm the works on its explosion. This rumor had spread so wide,
we had no faith in it. On the night of the 29th, we were in a position
on the extreme left. We were drawn in about nine, P.M., and marched to
Gen. Burnside’s headquarters, and closed in mass by division, left in
front. We there received official notice that the long-looked-for mine
was ready charged, and would be fired at daylight next morning. The plan
of storming was as follows: One division of white troops was to charge
the works immediately after the explosion, and carry the first and
second lines of rebel intrenchments. Our division was to follow
immediately, and push right into Petersburg, take the city, and be
supported by the remainder of the Ninth and the Twenty-eighth corps. We
were up bright and early, ready and eager for the struggle to commence.
I had been wishing for something of this sort to do for some time,
to gain the respect of the Army of the Potomac. You know their former
prejudices. At thirty minutes after five, the ball opened. The mine,
with some fifty pieces of artillery, went off almost instantaneously:
at the same time, the white troops, according to the plan, charged the
fort, which they carried, for there was nothing to oppose them; but they
did not succeed in carrying either of the lines of Intrenchments.

“We were held in rear until the development of the movement of the white
troops; but, on seeing the disaster which was about to occur, we were
pushed in by the flank (for we could go in in no other way to allow us
to get in position): so you see on this failure we had nothing to do but
gain by the flank. A charge in that manner has never proved successful,
to my knowledge: when it does, it is a surprise.

“Our men went forward with enthusiasm equal to any thing under different
circumstances; but, in going through the fort that had been blown up,
the passage was almost impeded by obstacles thrown up by the explosion.
At the same time, we were receiving a most deadly cross-fire from both
flanks. At this time, our Lieutenant-colonel (E. W. Ross) fell, shot
through the left leg, bravely leading the men. I immediately assumed
command, but only to hold it a few minutes, when I fell, struck by a
piece of shell in the side.

“Capt. Robinson, from Connecticut, then took command; and, from all we
can learn, he was killed. At this time, our first charge was somewhat
checked, and the men sought cover in the works. Again our charge was
made, but, like the former, unsuccessful. This was followed by the enemy
making a charge. Seeing the unorganized condition and the great loss of
officers, the men fell back to our own works. Yet a large number still
held the fort until two, p.m.; when the enemy charged again, and carried
it. That ended the great attempt to take Petersburg.

“It will be thus seen that the colored troops did not compose the first
assaulting, but the supporting column; and they were not ordered forward
until white troops in greater numbers had made a desperate effort to
carry the rebel works, and had failed. Then the colored troops were sent
in; moved over the broken ground, and up the slope, and within a short
distance of the parapet, in order, and with steady courage; but finally
broke and retreated under the same fire which just before had sent a
whole division of white regiments to the rightabout. If there be any
disgrace in that, it does not belong exclusively nor mainly to the
negroes. A second attack is far more perilous and unlikely to succeed
than a first; the enemy having been encouraged by the failure of the
first, and had time to concentrate his forces. And, in this case, there
seems to have been a fatal delay in ordering both the first and second
assault.”

An officer in the same engagement said,--

“In regard to the bravery of the colored troops, although I have been in
upwards of twenty battles, I never saw so many cases of gallantry. The
‘crater’ where we were halted, was a perfect slaughter-pen.

“Had not ‘some one blundered,’ but moved us up at daylight, instead of
eight o’clock, we should have been-crowned with success, instead of
being cut to pieces by a terrific enfilading fire, and finally forced
from the field in a panic. We had no trouble in rallying the troops, and
moving them into the rifle-pits; and, in one hour after the rout, I had
nearly as many men together as were left unhurt.

“I was never under such a terrific fire, and can hardly realize how any
escaped alive. Our loss was heavy. In the Twenty-eighth (colored), for
instance, commanded by Lieut.-Col. Russell (a Bostonian), he lost
seven officers out of eleven, and ninety-one men out of two hundred and
twenty-four; and the colonel himself was knocked over senseless, for a
few minutes, by a slight wound in the head: both his color-sergeants
and all his color-guard were killed. Col Bross, of the Twenty-ninth,
was killed outright, and nearly every one of his officers hit. This was
nearly equal to Bunker Hill. Col. Ross, of the Thirty-first, lost his
leg. The Twenty-eighth, Twenty-ninth, and Thirtieth (colored), all
charged over the works; climbing up an earthwork six feet high, then
down into a ditch, and up on the other side, all the time under the
severest fire in front and flank. Not being supported, of course the
storming-party fell back. I have seen white troops run faster than
these blacks did, when in not half so tight a place. Our brigade lost
thirty-six prisoners, all cut off after leaving the ‘crater.’ My faith
in colored troops is not abated one jot.”

Soon after the failure at Petersburg, the colored troops had a fair
opportunity, and nobly sustained their reputation gained on other
fields. At the battle of New-Market Heights, Va., the Tenth Army Corps,
under Major-Gen. Birney, met a superior number of the enemy, and had a
four-hours’ fight, Sept. 29, in which our men came off victorious. The
following order, issued on the 8th of October, needs no explanation:--

_“Headquarters, 3d Division, 18th Army Corps,_ _Before Richmond, Va.,
Oct. 7, 1864._

“_General Orders No. 103._

“_Officers and Soldiers of this Division_,--Major-Gen. D. B. Birney,
commanding the Tenth Army Corps, has desired me to express to you the
high satisfaction he felt at your good conduct while we were serving
with the Tenth Corps, Sept. 29 and 80, 1864, and with your gallantry in
storming New-Market Heights.

“I have delayed issuing this order, hoping for an opportunity to say
this to you in person.

“Accept, also, my own thanks for your gallantry on Sept. 29, and your
good conduct since. You have won the good opinion of the whole Army of
the James, and every one who knows your deeds.

“Let every officer and man, on all occasions, exert himself to increase
your present deserved reputation.

“_C. J. PAINE, Brigadier-General._

“_(Signed) S. A. CARTER, A. A. G._

“_Headquarters Tenth Army Corps,_ _Aug. 19, 1864._

“_Major-Gen. Butler commanding Department._

“The enemy attacked my lines in heavy force last night, and were
repulsed with great loss. In front of one colored regiment, eighty-two
dead bodies of the enemy are already counted. The colored troops behaved
handsomely, and are in fine spirits. The assault was in columns a
division strong, and would have carried any works not so well defended.
The enemy’s loss was at least one thousand.

“(Signed) Respectfully,

“_D. B. BIRNEY, Major-General_

“Seventy-five of our Black Virginia Cavalry were surrounded by three
regiments of rebel infantry, and gallantly cut through them; and an
orderly-sergeant killed with his sabre six of the enemy, and escaped
with the loss of an arm by grape-shot. He lies in an adjoining room, and
is slowly recovering.”

               “Brave man, thy deeds shall fill the tramp of fame,

                   And wake responsive echoes far and wide,

               And on contemners of thy race east shame;

                   For thou hast nobly with the noblest vied.


               Thy deeds recall the charge at Balaklava,

                   Wherein six hundred were immortalized:

               Not any hero of that charge was braver;

                   And thy great valor shall be recognized.


               No wolf, pursued by hounds o’er hill and plain,

                   At last more savagely stands up at bay,

               Finding past efforts to escape all vain,

                   Then cleaves through dying hounds his bloody way.


               Thine was the task, amid war’s wild alarm,

                   The valor of thy race to vindicate:

               Now admiration all true bosoms warm,

                   And places thee among the gallant great.


               It thrills our hearts to think upon the strife

                   In which, surrounded by the rebel host,

               Thou didst deal death for liberty and life,

                   And freedom win, although an arm was lost.


               O lion-hearted hero! whose fierce sword

                   Made breathless thy oppressors, bravely bear

               Thy sufferings; for our sympathies are poured

                   For thee, and gladly would relieve or share.”

At the second attack on Petersburg, the colored troops did nobly. A
correspondent of “The New-York Times” wrote as follows:--

“As everybody seems to have negro on the brain in the army, I may be
pardoned for again alluding to the colored troops in this letter. A
single day’s work has wiped out a mountain of prejudice, and fairly
turned the popular current of feeling in this army in favor of the
down-trodden race; and every one who has been with them on the field
has some story to relate of their gallant conduct in action, or their
humanity and social qualities. The capture of the fort before referred
to is related, among other things, in evidence of their manhood
and gallantry; taking prisoners in the exciting moment of actual
hand-to-hand fighting, in face of the Fort-Pillow and other
similar rebel atrocities perpetrated elsewhere, upon their colored
companions-in-arms as evidence of their humanity,--that they are really
something more than the stolid brutes, such as some people profess to
believe. But, next to bravery, one impromptu act of theirs has done
more than all else to remove a supposed natural prejudice against them.
Wounded officers of two different brigades in the Second Corps tell me,
that, when they relieved the colored troops in front Wednesday night,
their men had been out of rations all day, and were very hungry, as may
well be supposed. When this fact became known to the negroes, to use
the expressive language of a wounded officer, ‘They emptied their
haversacks, and gave the contents to our boys.’ The colored troops, I
have had opportunity to know, bear their honors meekly, as become men.
Hereafter, the vile oath and offensive epithet will not be blurted out
against the negro soldier, and in his presence, upon every favorable
opportunity, as has too generally heretofore been the practice. This
will be exclusively confined to the professional stragglers, who are
never at the front when danger is there.”

Sergt. Peter Hawkins, of the Thirty-first United States, exhibited
in the attack upon Petersburg marked abilities as a soldier. All the
officers of Company A being killed or wounded, he took command, and held
it for fourteen days. An eye-witness said,--

“He appointed men for guard and picket duty, made out his regular
morning report, issued rations, drilled his men, took them out on
dress-parade, or on fatigue-duty. Whatever important duty was devolved
upon him, he was the man to perform without murmuring. He is fully
competent to fill the office of a lieutenant or captain. He has clearly
proven on the field his unflinching courage and indomitable will.”



CHAPTER XXXV--WIT AND HUMOR OF THE WAR.


_Negro Wit and Humor.--The Faithful Sentinel.--The Sentinel’s
Respect for the United-States Uniform.--The “Nail-kag.”--The Poetical
Drummerboy.--Contrabands on Sherman’s March.--Negro Poetry on
Freedom.--The Soldier’s Speech.--Contraband capturing his Old Master._


With all the horrors of the Rebellion, there were occasions when these
trying scenes were relieved by some amusing incident. Especially was
this true with regard to the colored people. Thus when Adjutant-Gen.
Thomas first announced the new policy in Mississippi, and they began
enlisting freedmen, one was put on guard at night, at Lake Providence,
and was instructed not to allow any one to pass without the countersign.
He was, however, told not to fire upon a person until he had called out,
“One, two, three.” The negro seemed not to understand it, and asked to
have the instructions repeated. “You are to walk from here to that tree,
and back,” continued the white sergeant, “and, if you see or hear any
one, call out, ‘Who comes there? Give the countersign. One, two, three.’
And, if you receive no reply, shoot.”--“Yes, massa,” said Sam. “I got it
dis time, and no mistake.” After an hour or more on duty, Sam thought he
heard the tramp of feet, and began a sharp lookout. Presently bringing
his gun to his shoulder, and taking sight, he called out in quick
succession, “Who comes dar? Give de countersign. One, two, three!” And
“bang” went the gun. Fortunately, the negro’s aim was not as reliable as
was his determination to do his whole duty; and the only damage done was
a bullet-hole through the Intruder’s hat. When admonished by the officer
for not waiting for the man’s answer, the negro said, “Why, massa, I was
afraid dat ef I didn’t shoot quick, he’d run.”

A colored sentinel was marching on his beat in the streets of Norfolk,
Va., when a white man, passing by, shouldered him insolently off the
sidewalk, quite into the street. The soldier, on recovering himself,
called out,--

“White man, halt!”

The white man, Southerner like, went straight on. The sentinel brought
his musket to a ready, cocked it, and hailed again,--

“White man, halt, or I’ll fire!”

The white man, hearing _shoot_ in the tone, halted, and faced about.

“White man,” continued the sentry peremptorily, “come here!”

He did so.

“White man,” said, the soldier again, “me no care one cent’ bout this
particklar Cuffee; but white man bound to respeck this uniform (striking
his breast). White man, move on!”

A Virginia rebel, who has issued a book giving his experience as a
prisoner in the hands of the Federals at Point Lookout and Elmira, tells
the following story:--

“The boys are laughing at the summons which S., one of my
fellow-Petersburgers, got to-day from a negro sentinel. S. had on when
captured, and I suppose still possesses, a tall beaver of the antique
pattern considered inseparable from extreme respectability in the last
decade and for many a year before. While wandering around the enclosure,
seeking, I suspect, ‘what he might devour,’ he accidentally stepped
beyond the ‘dead line,’ and was suddenly arrested by a summons from
the nearest negro on the parapet, who seemed to be in doubt whether so
well-dressed a man could be a ‘reb,’ and therefore whether he should be
shot at once.

“White man, you b’long in dar?”

“Yes.”

“Well, ain’t you got no better sense dan to cross dat line?”

“I did not notice the line.”

“Well, you had better notice it, and dat quick, or I’ll blow half dat
_nail-kag_ off!”

The following doggerel was composed by a drummer-boy, aged thirteen,
who had been a slave, and was without education. He sung it to the One
Hundred and Seventh Regiment United-States colored troops, to which he
was attached:--

               “Captain Fiddler’s come to town

                   With his abolition triggers:

               He swears he’s one of Lincoln’s men,

                   ‘Enlisting all the niggers.’


               You’ll see the citizens on the street

                   Whispering in rotation:

               What do they seem to talk about?

                   Lincoln’s proclamation.


               Some get sick, and some will die,

                   Be buried in rotation:

               What was the death of such a man?

                   Lincoln’s proclamation.


               You’ll see the rebels on the street,

                   Their noses like a bee gum;

               I don’t care what in thunder they say,

                   I’m fighting for my freedom!


               Richmond is a mighty place,

                   And Grant’s as sound as a dollar;

               And every time he throws a shell,

                   Jeff begins to holler.


               My old massa’s come to town,

                   Cutting a Southern figure:

               What’s the matter with the man?

                   Lincoln’s got his niggers.

               Some folks say this ‘almighty fuss

                   Is getting worse and bigger;

               Some folks say ‘it’s worse and worse,’

                   Because I am ‘a nigger.’


               We’ll get our colored regiments strung

                   Out in a line of battle:

               I’ll bet my money agin the South

                   The rebels will skedaddle.”


In his march, Gen. Sherman was followed by large numbers of contrabands.
They were always the first to welcome our troops. On entering
Fayetteville, the general was met by slaves, old and young; and a man of
many years exclaimed,--

“Tank de Almighty God, Mr. Sherman has come at last! We knew it, we
prayed for de day, and de Lord Jesus heard our prayers. Mr. Sherman has
come wid his company.”

One fat old woman said to him, while shaking him by the hand, which he
always gladly gives to those poor people, “I prayed dis long time for
yer, and de blessing ob de Lord is on yer. But yesterday afternoon, when
yer stopped trowing de shells into de town, and de soldiers run away
from de hill ober dar, I thout dat Gen. Burygar had driven you away,
for dey said so; but here yer am dun gone. Bress de Lord, yer will hab a
place in heaben: yer will go dar sure.”

Several officers of the army, among them Gen. Slocum, were gathered
round, interested in the scene. The general asked them:--

“Well, men, what can I do for you? Where are you from?”

“We’s jus come from Cheraw. Massa took us with him to carry mules and
horses away from youins.”

“You thought we would get them. Did you wish us to get the mules?”

“Oh, yes, massa! dat’s what I wanted. We knowed youins cumin’, and I
wanted you to hav dem mules; but no use: dey heard dat youins on de
road, and nuthin’ would stop dem. Why, as we cum along, de cavalry run
away from the Yanks as if they fright to deth. Dey jumped into de river,
and some of dem lost dere hosses. Dey frightened at the very name ob
Sherman.”

Some one at this point said, “That is Gen. Serman who is talking to
you.”

“God bress me! is you Mr. Sherman?”

“Yes: I am Mr. Sherman.”

“Dats him, su’ miff,” said one.

“Is dat de great Mr. Sherman that we’s heard ob so long?” said another.

“Why, dey so frightened at your berry name, dat dey run right away,”
 shouted a third.

“It is not me that they are afraid of,” said the general: “the name of
another man would have the same effect with them if he had this army. It
is these soldiers that they run away from.”

“Oh, no!” they all exclaimed. “It’s de name of Sherman, su’; and we hab
wanted to see you so long while you trabbel all roun jis whar you like
to go. Dey said dat dey wanted to git you a little furder on, and den
dey whip all your soldiers; but, God bress me, you keep cumin’ and a
cumin’ and dey allers git out.”

“Dey mighty ‘fraid ob you, sar; day say you kill de colored men, too,”
 said an old man, who had not heretofore taken part in the conversation.

With much earnestness, Gen. Sherman replied,--

“Old man, and all of you, understand me. I desire that bad men should
fear me, and the enemies of the Government which we are all fighting
for. Now we are your friends; you are now free.” (“Thank you, Massa
Sherman,” was ejaculated by the group.) “You can go where you please;
you can come with us, or go home to your children. Wherever you go, you
are no longer slaves. You ought to be able to take care of yourselves.”
 (“We is; we will.”) “You must earn your freedom, then you will be
entitled to it, sure; you have a right to be all that you can be, but
you must be industrious, and earn the right to be men. If you go back to
your families, and I tell you again you can go with us if you wish,
you must do the best you can. When you get a chance, go to Beaufort or
Charleston, where you will have a little farm to work for yourselves.”

The poor negroes were filled with gratitude and hope by these kind
words, uttered in the kindest manner, and they went away with thanks and
blessings on their lips.

During the skirmishing, one of our men who, by the way, was a forager,
was slightly wounded. The most serious accident of the day occurred to a
negro woman, who was in a house where the rebels had taken cover. When
I saw this woman, who would not have been selected as a type of
South-Carolina female beauty, the blood was streaming over her neck and
bosom from a wound in the lobe of her ear, which the bullet had just
clipped and passed on.

“What was it that struck you, aunty?” I asked her.

“Lor bress me, massa, I dun know, I jus fell right down.”

“Didn’t you feel any thing, nor hear any sound?”

“Yes, now I ‘member, I heerd a s-z-z-z-z-z, and den I jus knock down. I
drap on de groun’. I’se so glad I not dead, for if I died den de bad man
would git me, cos I dance lately a heap.”

A contraband’s poetical version of the President’s Emancipation
Proclamation.

               “I’se gwine to tell ye, Sambo,

                   What I heard in town to-day,--

               I listened at the cap’n’s tent:

                   I’ll tell ye what he say.


               He say dat Massa Linkum,

                   Way yonder Norf, ye see,--

               Him write it in de Yankee book,

                   ‘De nigger gwine for free.’

               And now, ye see, I tell ye

                   What Massa Linkum done:

               De seeesh can’t get way from dat

                   No more’n dey dodge a gun.


               It’s jes’ as sure as preachin’,

                   I tell ye, Sambo, true,--

               De nigger’s trouble ober now,

                   No more dem lash for you.


               I ‘speeted dat would happen:

                   I had a sense, ye see,

               Of something big been gwine to come

                   To make de people free.


               I t’ought de flamin’ angel

                   Been gwine for blow de trump;

               But Massa Linkum write de word

                   Dat make de rebel jump.


               So now we’ll pick de cotton,

               So now we’ll broke de corn:

               De nigger’s body am his own

                   De bery day he born.


               He grind de grits in safety,

                   He eat de yams in peace;

               De Lord, him bring de jubilee,

                   De Lord, him set de feas’.


               So now, I tell ye, Sambo,

                   Ye’re born a man to-day:

               Nobody gwine for con trad ie’

                   What Massa Linkum say.


               Him gwine for free de nigger:

                   De Lord, him gib de word;

               And Massa Linkum write’em down,

                   O Sambo! praise de Lord!”


When the teachers were introduced into Jackson, Miss., soon after the
Union forces occupied the place, they found some very ignorant material
to work upon. One old woman, while attending the Sabbath school, being
asked who made her, replied, “I don’t know, ‘zacly, sir. I heard once who
it was; but I done forgot de gent-mun’s name.” The teacher thought that
the Lord’s name had been rather a stranger in that neighborhood. During
the siege of Port Hudson, a new schoolhouse was erected for the black
soldiers who had been enlisted in that vicinity; and, when it was
opened, the following speech was made by a colored soldier, called
Sergt. Spencer:--

“I has been a-thinkin’ I was old man; for, on de plantation, I was put
down wid de old hands, and I quinsicontly feeled myself dat I was a old
man. But since I has come here to de Yankees, and been made a soldier
for de Unite States, an’ got dese beautiful clothes on, I feels like
one young man; and I doesn’t call myself a old man nebber no more. An’ I
feels dis ebenin’ dat, if de rebs came down here to dis old Fort Hudson,
dat I could jus fight um as brave as any man what is in the Sebenth
Regiment. Sometimes I has mighty feelins in dis ole heart of mine, when
I considers how dese ere ossifers come all de way from de North to fight
in de cause what we is fighten fur. How many ossifers has died, and how
many white soldiers has died, in dis great and glorious war what we
is in! And now I feels dat, fore I would turn coward away from dese
ossifers, I feels dat I could drink my own blood, and be pierced through
wid five thousand bullets. I feels sometimes as doe I ought to tank
Massa Linkern for dis blessin’ what we has; but again I comes to de
solemn conclusion dat I ought to tank de Lord, Massa Linkern, and all
dese ossifers.’Fore I would be a slave ‘gain, I would fight till de last
drop of blood was gone. I has ‘cluded to fight for my liberty, and for
dis eddication what we is now to receive in dis beautiful new house what
we has. Aldo I hasn’t got any eddication nor no book-learnin’, I has
rose up dis blessed ebenin’ to do my best afore dis congregation. Dat’s
all what I has to say now; but, at some future occasion, I may say more
dan I has to say now, and edify you all when I has more preparation.
Dat’s all what I has to say. Amen.”

After the fall of Port Hudson, Sergt. Spencer was sent with his company
into the interior; and, while in a skirmish, he captured his old master,
who was marched off by the chattel to headquarters, distant about six
miles. The master, not liking the long walk and his heavy gun, began
upbraiding his slave for capturing him, and, complaining of his
misfortune, stopped, laid down his gun, seated himself on an old log,
lighted his pipe, and said he could walk no farther.

However, old Spencer soon told the prisoner a different tale. Waiting
a reasonable time for resting, the sergeant said, “Come, boss, you’s
smoked enough dar: come, I is in a hurry. I can’t wait no longer.” The
rebel still remonstrated with his slave, reminding him of what he once
was, and the possibility of his being again in his power. But these
admonitions made little or no impression on the sergeant, who resumed,
“Come, boss, come: dis is no time to tell ‘bout what you’s been or what
you’s gwine to be. Jes git right up and come long, or I’ll stick dis
bayonet in you.”--“Well, Spencer,” said the master, “you carry my
gun.”--“No, boss; you muss tote your own gun. I is bin toting you an’
all your chilen des forty years, and now de times is changed. Come, now,
git up an move on, or I’ll stick you wid dis bayonet” (at the same
time drawing the bayonet from its scabbard). “Massa reb” shouldered his
unloaded shooter, and reluctantly continued his journey.



CHAPTER XXXVI--A THRILLING INCIDENT OF THE WAR.


_Heroic Escape of a Slave.--His Story of his Sister.--Resides
North.--Joins the Army and returns to the South during the
Rebellion.--Search for his Mother.--Finds her.--Thrilling Scene.--Truth
stranger than Fiction._


It was in the month of December, 1832, while Col. Rice and family
were seated around a bright wood-fire, whose blaze lighted up the large
dining-room in their old mansion, situated ten miles from Drayton,
in the State of Ohio, that they heard a knock at the door, which was
answered by the familiar “Come in,” that always greets the stranger in
the Western States. Squire Loomis walked in, and took a seat in one of
the three rocking-chairs which had been made vacant by the young folks,
who rose to give place to their highly influential and wealthy neighbor.
It was a beautiful night: the sky was clear, the wind had hushed its
deep meanings. The most brilliant of the starry throng stood out in bold
relief, despite the superior light of the moon. “I see some one standing
at the gate,” said Mrs. Rice, as she left the window, and came nearer
the fire. “I’ll go out and see who it is,” exclaimed George, as he
quitted his chair, and started for the door. The latter soon returned,
and whispered to his father; and both left the room, evincing that
something unusual was at hand. Not many minutes elapsed, however, before
the father and son entered, accompanied by a young man, whose complexion
showed plainly that other than Anglo-Saxon blood coursed through his
veins. The whole company rose, and the stranger was invited to draw near
to the fire. Question after question was now pressed upon the new-comer
by the colonel and squire, but without eliciting satisfactory replies.
“You need not be afraid, my friend,” said his host, as he looked
intently in the colored man’s face, “to tell where you are from, and to
what place you are going. If you are a fugitive, as I suspect, give
us your story, and we will protect and defend you to the last.” Taking
courage from these kind remarks, the mulatto said, “I was born, sir, in
the State of Kentucky, and raised in Missouri. My master was my father:
my mother was his slave. That, sir, accounts for the fairness of my
complexion. As soon as I was old enough to labor, I was taken into my
master’s dwelling as a servant, to attend upon the family. My mistress,
aware of my near relationship to her husband, felt humiliated; and
often, in her anger, would punish me severely for no cause whatever. My
near approach to the Anglo-Saxon aroused the jealousy and hatred of the
overseer; and he flogged me, as he said, to make me know my place. My
fellow-slaves hated me because I was whiter than themselves. Thus my
complexion was construed into a crime, and I was made to curse my father
for the Anglo-Saxon blood that courses through my veins.

“My master raised slaves to supply the Southern market; and every year
some of my companions were sold to the slave-traders, and taken farther
South. Husbands were separated from wives, and children torn from the
arms of their agonized mothers. These outrages were committed by the
man whom nature compelled me to look upon as my father. My mother and
brothers were sold, and taken away from me: still I bore all, and made
no attempt to escape; for I yet had near me an only sister, whom I
dearly loved. At last the negro-driver attempted to rob my sister of her
virtue. She appealed to me for protection. Her innocence, beauty, and
tears were enough to stir the stoutest heart. My own, filled with grief
and indignation, swelled within me as though it would burst, or leap
from my bosom. My tears refused to flow: the fever in my brain dried
them up. I could stand it no longer. I seized the wretch by the throat,
and hurled him to the ground; and, with this strong arm, I paid him for
old and new. The next day I was tried by a jury of slaveholders for the
crime of having within me the heart of a man, and protecting my sister
from the licentious embrace of a libertine. And, would you believe
it, sir? that jury of enlightened Americans,--yes, sir, Christian
Americans,--after grave deliberation, decided that I had broken the
laws, and sentenced me to receive five hundred lashes upon my bare
back. But, sir, I escaped from them the night before I was to have
been flogged. Afraid of being arrested and taken back, I remained
the following day hid away in a secluded spot on the backs of the
Mississippi River, protected from the gaze of man by the large trees and
thick canebrakes that sheltered me. I waited for the coming of another
night. All was silent around me save the sweet chant of the feathered
songsters in the forest, or the musical ripple of the eddying waters
at my feet. I watched the majestic bluffs as they gradually faded away
through the gray twilight from the face of day into the darker shades
of night. I then turned to the rising moon as it peered above, ascending
the deep-blue ether, high in the heavens, casting its mellow rays over
the surrounding landscape, and gilding the smooth surface of the noble
river with its silvery hue. I viewed with interest the stars as they
appeared one after another in the firmament. It was then and there that
I studied nature in its lonely grandeur, and saw in it the goodness
of God, and felt that he who created so much beauty, and permitted the
fowls of the air and beasts of the field to roam at large, and be
free, never intended that man should be the slave of his fellow-man. I
resolved that I would be a bondman no longer; and, taking for my guide
the _north star_, I started ‘for Canada, the negro’s land of liberty.
For many weeks, I travelled by night, and lay by during the day. Oh!
how often, while hid away in the forest, waiting for nightfall, have I
thought of the beautiful lines I once heard a stranger recite!--


               “‘Oh hail, Columbia! happy land,--

                   The cradle-land of liberty!

               Where none but negroes bear the brand,

                   Or feel the lash, of slavery.


               Then let the glorious anthem peal,

                   And drown “Britannia rules the waves:”

               Strike up the song that men can feel,--

                   “Columbia rules four million slaves!”’


“At last I arrived at a depot of the underground railroad, took the
_express_ train, and here I am.”--“You are welcome,” said Col. Rice,
as he rose from his chair, walked to the window, and looked out, as
if apprehensive that the fugitive’s pursuers were near by. “You are
welcome,” continued he; “and I will aid you on your way to Canada, for
you are not safe here.”

“Are you not afraid of breaking the laws by assisting this man to
escape?” remarked Squire Loomis. “I care not for laws when they stand in
the way of humanity,” replied the colonel. “If you aid him in reaching
Canada, and we should ever have a war with England, maybe he’ll take up
arms, and fight against his own country,” said the squire. The fugitive
eyed the law-abiding man attentively for a moment, and then exclaimed,
“Take up arms against my country? What country, sir, have I? The Supreme
Court of the United States, and the laws of the South, doom me to be the
slave of another. There is not a foot of soil over which the _stars and
stripes_ wave, where I can stand, and be protected by law. I’ve seen my
mother sold in the cattle-market: I looked upon my brothers as they were
driven away in chains by the slave-speculator. The heavy negro-whip has
been applied to my own shoulders, until its biting lash sunk deep into
my quivering flesh. Still, sir, you call this my country. True, true, I
was born in this land. My grandfather fought in the Revolutionary
War: my own father was in the war of 1812. Still, sir, I am a slave, a
chattel, a thing, a piece of property. I’ve been sold in the market with
horses and swine. The initials of my master’s name are branded on this
arm. Still, sir, you call this my country. And, now that I am making my
escape, you feel afraid if I reach Canada, and there should be war with
England, that I will take up arms against my country. Sir, I have no
country but the grave; and I’ll seek freedom there before I will be
taken back to slavery. There is no justice for me at the South: every
right of my race is trampled in the dust, until humanity bleeds at every
pore. I am bound for Canada, and woe to him that shall attempt to arrest
me! If it comes to the worst, I will die fighting for freedom.”--“I
honor your courage,” exclaimed Squire Loomis, as he sprang from his
seat, and walked rapidly to and fro-the room. “It is too bad,” continued
he, “that such men should be enslaved in a land whose Declaration of
Independence proclaims all men to be free and equal. I will aid you in
any thing that I can. What is your name?”--“I have no name,” said the
fugitive. “I once had a name,--it was William,--but my master’s nephew
came to live with him; and as I was a house-servant, and the young
master and I would, at times, get confused in the same name, orders
were given for me to change mine. From that moment, I resolved, that, as
slavery had robbed me of my liberty and my name, I would not attempt to
have another till I was free. So, sir, for once, you have a man standing
before you without a name.”--“I will name you George Loomis,” said the
squire. “I accept it,” returned the fugitive, “and shall try never to
dishonor it.”

True to their promises, his new friends provided for his immediate
wants, and, as soon as a favorable opportunity occurred, started him on
his journey north. George reached Canada in a few weeks without further
adventure, and settled near the city of Toronto, where he resided,
engaged in honest labors and enjoying the fruits of his industry,
until the breaking-out of the Rebellion, when he returned to the United
States, eager to take part in the struggle. Owing to the fairness of his
complexion, he readily passed for a white man, and enlisted as such in a
Michigan regiment in 1863. He was with Gen. Grant’s army at the siege of
Vicksburg; and, after the surrender of that, stronghold, the regiment to
which George belonged was stationed in the town. Here the quadroon had
ample opportunity of conversing with the freedmen, which he often did,
for he had not lost his interest in the race. Going into a negro cabin
one day, and getting into conversation with an old woman, he found that
she was originally from the state of Kentucky, and lastly from Missouri,
and that they were from the same neighborhood. As each related the
experience through which they had passed, the interview became more and
more interesting. Often they eyed each other, but there was nothing to
indicate that they had ever met before.

However, this was not to last long, for George, in describing the
parting scene with his mother, riveted the attention of the old woman,
who, at its close, said, “Dat scripshun peers like my gal, but you
can’t be no kin to her. But what’s your name?” eagerly asked the woman.
“William was my name, but I adopted the one I am known by now,” replied
he. “You don’t mean to say dat you is William?”

“Yes: that was the name I was known by.”--“Well,” continued she, “I
had a son named William; but he run away, and massa went arter him, and
catch him, and sold him down the riber to de cotton-planter. So he
said when he came back.” The features of the two had changed so much
in thirty years, that they could not discover in each other any traces
whatever of former acquaintance. “My son,” said the old woman, “had a
scar on his right hand.” George sprang from his seat., and held out the
right hand. Tremblingly she put on her glasses, seized the hand, and
screamed, “Oh, oh, oh! I can’t ‘blieve dis is you. My son had a scar, a
deep scar, on the side of the left foot.” Quick as thought, George took
off the boot, and held up his foot, while the old woman was wiping her
glasses; for they were wet with tears. A moment more, and mother and
son were locked in each other’s arms. The dead was alive, the lost was
found. God alone knew the sorrow that had visited the two since they had
last met. Great was the rejoicing at this unexpected meeting; and the
old woman would, for several days, cause Loomis to take off his boot,
and show her the scar; and she would sit, hold the hand, and view the
unmistakable cut which helped her to identity her long-lost son. And she
would weep and exclaim, “Dis is de doins ob de Lord!”



CHAPTER XXXVII--PROGRESS AND JUSTICE.


_Great Change in the Treatment of Colored Troops.--Negro
Appointments.--Justice to the Black Soldiers.--Steamer
“Planter.”--Progress.--The Paymaster at last.--John S Rock._


The month of May, 1864, saw great progress in the treatment of the
colored troops by the Government of the United States. The circumstances
were more favorable for this change than they had hitherto been. Slavery
had been abolished in the District of Columbia., Maryland, and Missouri:
the heroic assault on Fort Wagner, the unsurpassed bravery exhibited at
Port Hudson, the splendid fighting at Olustee and Honey Hill, had raised
the colored men in the estimation of the nation. President Lincoln and
his advisers had seen their error, and begun to repair the wrong.
The year opened with the appointment of Dr. A. T. Augusta, a colored
gentleman, as surgeon of colored volunteers, and he was at once assigned
to duty, with the rank of major. Following this, was the appointment, by
Gov. Andrew of Massachusetts, of Sergt. Stephen A. Swailes, of Company
F, Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, as second lieutenant.

M. R. Delany, M.D., was soon after appointed a major of negro
volunteers, and assigned to duty at Charleston, S.C. W. P. Powell, jun.,
received an appointment as surgeon, about the same time.

The steamer “Planter,” since being brought out of Charleston by Robert
Small, was under the command of a Yankee, who, being ordered to do
service where the vessel would be liable to come under the fire of
rebel guns, refused to obey: whereupon Lieut.-Col. Elwell, without
consultation with any higher authority, issued the following order,
which, for simple justice to a brave and loyal negro, officially
acknowledged, has seldom been equalled in this or any other department.
It is unnecessary to say that Robert Small took command of the vessel,
and faithfully discharged the duty required of him.

_“Office of Chief Quartermaster,_ _Port Royal, S.C., Nov. 26, 1863._

“_Capt. A. T. Dutton, Chief Assistant Quartermaster, Folly and
Morris Islands._

“_Sir_,--You will please place Robert Small in charge of the
United-States transport ‘Planter,’ as captain. He brought her out
of Charleston Harbor more than a year ago, running under the guns of
Sumter, Moultrie, and the other defences of that stronghold. He is an
excellent pilot, of undoubted bravery, and in every respect worthy of
the position. This is due him as a proper recognition of his heroism and
services. The present captain is a coward, though a white man. Dismiss
him, therefore, and give the steamer to this brave black Saxon.

“Respectfully, your obedient servant,

“_J. J. ELWELL._

“_Chief Quartermaster Department South._”

It may interest some to know that the above order was immediately
approved by Gen. Gillmore.

The following is very complimentary to Capt. Small:--

“It was indeed a privilege to enter Charleston, as we did recently
through the courtesy of Major-Gen, Saxton, in such a steamer as ‘The
Planter,’ and with such a captain as Robert Small. It was their first
appearance in the harbor since the memorable morning of their departure
in 1862. The fog detained us for a few hours on our arrival at the bar.
When it cleared away, you can imagine with what cheer our anchor came
up, and with what smiles and satisfaction the vessel and her commander
swept by the silenced and dismantled Sumter, and hauled in to the
waiting, wondering wharves of the ruined city. Wherever we went on
shore, we had only to say to the colored people, ‘The Planter and
Capt. Small are at the dock;’ and away they all hurried to greet
the well-known, welcome guests. ‘Too sweet to think of.’ cried one
noble-looking old man, who had evidently waited long for the good news
of our day, as he hastened to join the crowd.

“We met Small afterwards, walking in the streets in peace and safety.
When our rambles about the humble place were over, and we prepared to
depart, the scene about the steamer was one that we can never forget. A
goodly company of the leading colored people were arranging for a public
meeting with Gen. Saxton in the largest hall of the city, to learn from
his lips the purposes of our Government on the following week. Their
interview over, they joined a large crowd of their own color upon the
pier. Small was in the midst of them, with a couple of white men in
conversation with him. Curiosity led us near. He introduced us to the
builder of the vesel (sp.), and the maker of the engine and boilers. ‘I
put the polish on,’ he added laughingly. They withdrew towards a couple
of their own complexion. He pointed out the principal person in the
group, to the general, as Col. Ferguson, the original owner of ‘The
Planter,’ and of all her old hands, except Small. His owner did not show
himself.

“Upon our casting off, the colored folks raised at first a few feeble
cheers, from a lurking regard to the pale listeners behind them; but,
when the general before them called for three more for Capt. Small,
every arm was swung, and every voice was raised till the welkin rang.
‘The Planter’ has been placed under Gen. Saxton’s orders. She will
be often seen in these waters. Her new claims to her name are to be
manifested in her _planting_ the freedmen of the captured city upon the
neighboring sea-islands and the mainland, on their own homesteads, for
the cultivation of their own crops of cotton, rice, corn, and whatever
else they and their families, or the world, may need. A great price was
once put upon Small’s head. He and all his crew, white and black alike,
will be worth their weight in gold if they but continue to serve the
general and the Government as we were sure they did on their first
return-trip to Charleston Harbor.”

There was one step more which the Government had taken, that sent a
thrill of joy to many hearts. It was paying the men on the battle-field
what it promised. The following announcement was made by Gen. Saxton, at
Beaufort, S.C., May 22:--

Colored soldiers, I have just received intelligence that the National
Government, after a long and desperate struggle, has decided to put you
on an equality with her white troops, making your pay equal with theirs.
Now that she has done justice to you, I want you to do justice to her
and justice to yourselves. Show yourselves men; and the way to show
yourselves men is to be brave and stout-hearted. I want you to be
particular in the execution of your ‘Shoulder arms,’ your ‘Charge
bayonets.’ Learn to shoot well at your enemies. You can do it, can’t
you?” (“Yes, sir!” was the answer from the columns.) “‘Well, do it,
then. There is no reason why you should not make just as good soldiers
as the whites. Do it, then; hold your heads up, and be fearless and
brave men. Two years ago, when I came here, I was the first to organize
a colored regiment into the United-States service; viz., the First
South-Carolina Regiment. The first lesson I taught them was to hold
up their heads before white men, and to say No. And now they are good
soldiers. I would just as soon have the First South-Carolina Regiment
to-day with which to go into the field and face the enemy as any
white soldiers in the service.” The paymaster shortly after made his
appearance, and paid off the men; and thus justice, though long kept
back, at last came. Great was the rejoicing, both in the army by the
men, and at their homes by their families and friends. Progress is slow,
but sure. Everywhere the colored population appeared to be gaining their
equality, and rising to a higher level of humanity. The acknowledgment
of the civil rights of the negro had already been granted in the
admission of John S. Rock, a colored man, to practise law in all the
courts within the jurisdiction of the United States. The Supreme Court
at Washington, Chief-Justice Chase presiding, did not heap any more
honor on Mr. Rock, by this admission, than they gained by having so
distinguished a scholar as a member of the bar. Mr. John F. Shorter, who
was promoted to a lieutenancy in Company D, Fifty-fifth Massachusetts
Regiment, was by trade a carpenter, and was residing in Delaware County,
O., when the call was made for colored troops. Severely wounded at
the battle of Honey Hill, S.C.,on the 30th of November, 1864, he still
remained with his regiment, hoping to be of service. At the conclusion
of the war, he returned home, but never recovered from his wound, and
died a few days after his arrival. James Monroe Trotter, promoted for
gallantry, was wounded at the battle of Honey Hill. He is a native of
Grand Gulf, Miss; removed to Cincinnati, O; was educated at the Albany
(O.) Manual Labor University, where he distinguished himself for his
scholarly attainments. He afterwards became a school-teacher, which
position he filled with satisfaction to the people of Muskingum and Pike
Counties, O., and with honor to himself. Enlisting as a private in the
Fifty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment, on its organization, he returned
with it to Boston as a lieutenant, an office honorably earned.

William H. Dupree, a native of Petersburg, Va., was brought up and
educated at Chillicothe, O. He enlisted in the Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts Regiment, on its formation, as a private, was soon made
orderly-sergeant, and afterwards promoted to a lieutenancy for bravery
on the field of battle.

Charles L. Mitchel, promoted to a lieutenancy in the Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts Regiment for gallantry at the battle of Honey Hill, where
he was severely wounded (losing a limb), is a native of Hartford, Conn.,
and son of Mr. William A. Mitchel of that city. Lieut. Mitchel served
an apprenticeship to William II. Burleigh, in the office of the old
“Charter Oak,” in Hartford, where he became an excellent printer. For
five or six years previous to entering the army, he was employed
in different printing-offices in Boston, the last of which was “The
Liberator,” edited by William Lloyd Garrison, who never speaks of
Lieut. Mitchel but in words of the highest commendation. Gen. A. S.
Hartwell, late colonel of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment, makes
honorable mention of Lieut. Mitchel.

The citizens of Boston in Ward Six, where he has so long resided, and
who know him well, have shown then-appreciation of Lieut. Mitchel’s
worth by electing him to represent them in the Massachusetts
Legislature,--an office which he is every way qualified to fill.



CHAPTER XXXVIII--FOURTH-OF-JULY CELEBRATION AT THE HOME OF JEFF. DAVIS.


_Fourth-of-July Celebration at the Home of Jeff. Davis in
Mississippi.--The Trip.--Joe Davis’s Place.--Jeff.’s Place.--The
Dinner.--Speeches and Songs.--Lively Times.--Return to Vicksburg._


By invitation of the Committee of Arrangements, a party of teachers and
their escorts, and other friends of the freedmen, embarked on board “The
Diligent,” on the morning of the 4th inst. “The Diligent” left the levee
at Vicksburg soon after seven o’clock, a.m., and made a pleasant trip
in about three hours, down the river, stopping at the landing at Davis’s
Bend; whence the party were conveyed in ambulances, wagons, buggies,
and other vehicles, to the late residence of Jefferson Davis, about two
miles from said landing.


_DAVIS’S BEND_.

This is one of the most extraordinary bends of the wonderful Mississippi
River, and has received its name from the fact of the settlement, on the
peninsula formed by the bend, of two members of the Davis Family, known
as “Jeff.” and “Joe.” This peninsula is some twelve miles in length;
and, at the point where it is attached to the main land of the State of
Mississippi, it is so narrow, that the enterprising planters have dug a
canal across, not unlike the celebrated Butler Canal of Petersburg fame,
although not near so long. This canal is called the “cut-off;” and, in
high water, the peninsula becomes, in fact, an island. This tract of
land is of great fertility, being entirely a deposit of the rich soil
washed from the prairies of the Great West. On this tract are some six
plantations, of from eight hundred to twelve hundred acres each. Two of
the largest and best of these were owned by Jeff, and Joe Davis, and are
known now as “The Jeff, and Joe places.” The form of this peninsula is
such that a few companies of soldiers, with one or two stockades, can
keep out an army of rebels; and the inhabitants, although frequently
surrounded by the hordes of Southern murderers and thieves on the
opposite banks of the river and canal, dwell in peace and comparative
security. In fact, this site, from being the home of traitors and
oppressors of the poor, has become a sort of earthly paradise for
colored refugees. There they flock in large numbers, and, like Lazarus
of old, are permitted as it were, to repose in “Father Abraham’s bosom.”
 The rich men of the Southern Confederacy, now homeless wanderers,
occasionally cry across for the Lazarus whom they have oppressed
and despised; but he is not sent unto them, because, between the two
parties, there is a great gulf fixed; so that they which would pass from
hence cannot. On this freedman’s paradise, parties for cultivating the
soil are organized under the superintendence of missionaries; each
party cultivating from ten to one hundred acres, with a fair prospect
of realizing handsomely. These efforts are aided by the Government;
rations, teams, &c., being-supplied and charged to each party, to be
deducted from the proceeds of their crops. Cotton is chiefly cultivated,
and some very handsome stands appear.


_THE “JOE PLACE.”_

The “Joe Place” is nearest the landing. The fine brick house, however,
is nearly demolished; but the cottage used as a sort of law library and
office is remaining uninjured. The negro-quarters also remain.


_THE “JEFF. PLACE.”_

The “Jeff, place” is also a very fine plantation. The residence has
not been injured, except the door-locks, and one or two marble mantels
broken up, apparently for trophies. The Jeff, furniture has been
removed; but the rooms are still furnished with furniture brought here.


_THE HOUSE THAT JEFF. BUILT._

The house is, in its ground-plan, in the form of a cross,--but one
floor, with large rooms and ample verandas. The portico in front is
supported with pillars, and these form the only ornamental features of
the house, except such as were added for this occasion by the artistic
touches of our Northern sisters. Of these were festoons, wreaths, stars,
and garlands mysteriously woven in evergreens and flowers. Over the
portico entrance outside were the following inscriptions, the letters
being formed by cedar foliage:--


_“THE HOUSE THAT JEFF. BUILT.”_


_“WELCOME.”_

The latter motto was arched, and, with the festoons, made a beautiful
appearance.

Inside were beautiful stars and garlands of flowers; and over the exit
at the back-door, the following inscription, surmounted by a star:--


_“EXIT TRAITOR.”_

It was facetiously remarked by an observer, that the moral was,--

                   “Down with the traitor,

                   And up with the star.”

We understood that to Miss Lee, of Pennsylvania, and Miss Jennie
Huddleson, of Indiana, the party was indebted for those ingenious and
appropriate devices. Very likely; for wit and satire for traitors, and a
cordial welcome to the loyal and patriotic, are characteristics of these
whole-souled missionaries.

The reception-rooms were also decorated with flowers; and every thing
around showed that “gentle hands” had laid on “the last touches” of
fragrance, grace, and beauty.

These “ladies of the Management” were dressed in neat “patriotic
prints;” they needed no addition to their toilets to add to the charming
air of comfort which they so appropriately infused. Their smiles of
welcome needed no verbal explanation; and the heartiness with which they
were engaged in their labors of love, and the evidence of their success
in all the surroundings, showed that they perfectly understood the
science of making home happy. Whether they have read Mrs. H. B. Stowe’s
“House and Home Papers” in “The Atlantic,” we know not, but there are
many others, besides that literary lady (Mrs. Stowe), who understand
how to keep house; by magic touches to turn the most simple objects into
luxuries of ornamentation. We suspect also that Mrs. M. Watson and
Miss Lizzie Findley had been engaged in these preparations, although
appearing more in the character of guests. There were some other ladies,
to whom we had not the honor of an introduction, who, doubtless, deserve
particular mention; but your reporter, as the sequel of his story will
show, only received his appointment as a publication committee _after
all was over_, and, consequently, if he should omit anybody’s name that
deserves mention, this must be his apology. He now declares his desire
to be just to all, and especially to those whose devotion and patriotism
rendered the 4th of July, 1864, the happiest day of the year.


_THE GROUNDS._

On the grounds in front of the residence, the gunboat crew suspended a
string of signal colors, on each side of the “starry banner,” presenting
an effect amid the dense foliage of the live-oaks, and the gray moss,
“altogether beauteous to look upon;” while on the tables under the
trees were spread things not only “pleasant to the sight,” but “good
for food.” And when we saw these pleasing objects, the “work of their
hands,” and the merry, happy faces of the guests and their “escorts,”
 and reflected that the sable sons, by a guard of whom we were
surrounded, were “no longer slaves;” that they had, with thousands of
their brethren, been brought out from the house of bondage, by the
“God of Abraham;” that the very house now occupied by missionaries and
teachers had, but a year ago, been in the service of despotism, built,
in fact, as a temple of slavery by the great chief, who preferred
to rule in a miserable petty despotism to serving in a great and
magnanimous republic,--we could but think that Heaven looked approvingly
upon the scene; that “God saw every thing that he had made, and behold!
it was very good.”


_THE EXERCISES._

Rev. Dr. Warren conducted the exercises as president of the occasion;
and he did it with that ease, freedom, and regard for the rights and
interests of all, which usually characterize his public and social
conduct. He opened the proceedings, under a grove of trees in front
of the house, with an appropriate prayer, and then called upon those
appointed to take part.

Mr. Roundtree read the Declaration of Independence in a clear, emphatic,
and impressive manner. It was listened to with becoming reverence for
the great truths it contains, by both the white and colored races. It
is quite improbable that these self-evident truths were ever expressed
before publicly in this locality, and within hearing of every one within
the “house that Jeff, built.”

When this place was first taken by our troops, the following verse was
found written on the wall:--

               “Let Lincoln send his forces here!

                   We’ll lick’em like blue blazes,

               And send them yelping hack to where

                   They sung their nigger praises.”

Rev. Mr. Livermore, of Wisconsin, delivered an appropriate oration.

The meeting then adjourned for dinner.

A gentle shower at this time rendered the air cool and pleasant, but
made it necessary to remove the dining-tables to the house.


_THE DINNER._

A sumptuous dinner was served on the veranda at the back of the
mansion. There was an abundance of all that could be desired. This being
concluded, the following sentiments were presented, and responded to in
an impromptu but appropriate manner by the various speakers:--


_REGULAR TOASTS._

1. The Day we celebrate: The old ship was launched in ‘76, the
bow-anchors cast out last year at Vicksburg and Gettysburg: may the
storm-anchors be dropped to-day at Richmond and Atlanta!

Response by Mr. Israel Lombard.

2. The President: Proved honest and wise by four years of unprecedented
trial: we shall keep him there.

Responded to by Dr. Wright.

3. Lieut.-Gen. Grant: We can tie to him in a gale.

Responded to by Col. Clark.

4. The house that Jeff, built.

Responded to by Capt. Powell.

The following song composed for the occasion was led by Mr. McConnell:--


_“THE HOUSE THAT JEFF. BUILT.”_

_“Air.--‘Auld Lang Syne.’_


                   “How oft within these airy halls

                        The traitor of the day

                   Has heard ambition’s trumpet-calls,

                        Or dreamed of war’s array!


                   Or of an empire dreamed, whose base

                        Millions of blacks should be!

                   Aha! before this day’s sweet face

                        Where can his lisions be?


                   Those empire dreams shall be fulfilled,

                        But not as rebels thought:

                   Like water at the cistern spilled,

                        Their boasts shall come to nought.

                   From gulf to lake, from sea to sea,

                        Behold our country grand!

                   The very home of Liberty,

                        And guarded by her hand.


                   We revel in his halls to-day:

                        Next year where will he be?

                   A dread account he lias to pay:

                        May we be there to see!

                   And now for country, truth, and right,

                        Our heritage all free;

                   We’ll live and die. we’ll sing and fight:

                        The Union! three times three.


5. The Army and Navy: Veterans of three years. The heart of the nation
beats anxiously at the cry, “Onward to victory!”

Response by Dr. Foster.

6. Our Patriot Dead: Silence their most speaking eulogy

7. The Union: The storm will but root it the more firmly.

Response by Rev.A. J. Compton.

“The Star-spangled Banner,”--sung by the whole company, led by Mr.
McConnell.

8. Missionaries to Freedmen: Peace has its heroes.

Response by Rev. Mr. Buckley, chaplain Forty-seventh United-States
Colored Infantry.

9. Gen Sherman, second in command: “All I am I owe to my Government, and
nothing could tempt me to sacrifice my honor or my allegiance.”

Response by Capt. Gilpin, Commissary of Subsistence.

10. The Freedmen: Slaves yesterday, to-day free: what shall they be
to-morrow?

The freedmen sung the following song:--

               “De Lord he makes us free indeed

                   In his own time an’ way.

               We plant de rice and cotton seed,

                   And see de sprout some day:

               We know it come, but not de why,--

                   De Lord know more dan we.

               We ‘spected freedom by an’ by;

                   An’ now we all are free.

                   Praise de Lord! Praise de Lord!

                        For now we all are free.


               De Norf is on de side of right,

                   An’ full of men, dey say;

               An’ dere, when poor man work, at night

                   He sure to get his pay.

               De Lord he glad dey are so good,

                   And make dem bery strong;

               An’ when dey called to give deir blood

                   Dey all come right along.

                   Praise de Lord! Praise do Lord!

                        Dey all come right along.


               Deir blue coats cover all de groun’,

                   An’ make it like de sky;

               An’ every gray back loafin’ round

                   He tink it time to fly.

               We not afraid: we bring de child,

                   An’ stan’ beside de door,

               An,’ oil! we hug it bery wild,

                   An’ keep it ebermore.

                   Praise de Lord! Praise de Lord!

                        We keep it ebermore.

               De massa’s come back from his tramp;

                   ‘Pears he is broken quite:

               He takes de basket to de camp

                   For rations ebery night.


               Dey fought him when he loud and strong,

                   Dey fed him when he low:

               Dey say dey will forgive the wrong,

                   An’ bid him’pent an’ go.

                   Praise de Lord! Praise de Lord!

                        Dey hid him’pent an’ go.


               De rice is higher far dis year,

                   De cotton taller grow;

               De lowest corn-silk on de ear

                   Is higher than de hoe.

               De Lord he lift up every ting

                   ‘Cept rebel in his grave;

               De negro bress de Lord, an’ sing:

                   He is no longer slave.

                   Praise de Lord! Praise de Lord!

                        De negro no more slave.”


13. Our Colored Troops: Deserving of freedom because they fight like
men.

Response by Lieut. Wakeman.

Song: “Babylon is fallen.”

The party, after selecting a few simple trophies, such as fig-branches
for walking-canes, large pond-lilies, flowers, wreaths, and bouquets,
returned to the landing, and re-embarked for Vicksburg.


_CLOSING EXERCISES._

On the boat, the following business was transacted:--

Vote of thanks to Col. Thomas and staff for getting up the celebration;
to the Orator of the Day, Parson Livermore; to the President, Rev.
Dr. Warren, who made a brief response; and also to Capt. Wightman an
officers of “The Diligent.”

The following song was then sung by a young contraband:--

          “We heard de proclamation, massa hush it as he will:

          De bird he sing it to us, hoppin’ on de cotton-hill;

          And de possum up de gum-tree he couldn’t keep it still.


          Father Abraham has spoken, and de message has been sent;

          Do prison-doors he opened, and out de prisoners went

          To joinde sable army of de ‘African descent.’


          Dey said, ‘Now colored bredren, you shall be forever free,

          From the first of January, eighteen hundred and sixty-three:’

          We heard it in do riber goin’ rushin’ to dc sea.


          Den fall in, colored bredren, you’d better do it soon;

          Don’t you hear de drum a-beatin’ de Yankee Doodle tune?

          We are wid you now dis mornin’; we’ll lie far away at noon.”


Cheers were given for Abraham Lincoln, and groans for Jeff. Davis.

The song, “The House that Jeff. Built,” was again sung; and Capt.
Gilpin, Commissary of Subsistence, appointed a committee to furnish a
copy of the same to “The New-York Tribune,” and also to Jeff. Davis.

Capt. Henry S. Clubb, Assistant Quartermaster, was appointed a committee
to furnish a report of the proceedings of the day to “The Vicksburg
Daily Herald.”



CHAPTER XXXIX--GALLANTRY, LOYALTY, AND KINDNESS OF THE NEGRO.


_The Nameless Hero at Fair Oaks.--The Chivalry whipped by their Former
Slaves.--Endurance of the Blacks.--Man in Chains.--One Negro whips
Three Rebels.--Gallantry.--Outrages on the Blacks.--Kindness of the
Negroes.--Welcome._


The gallantry and loyalty of the blacks during the Rebellion is a
matter of history, and volumes might be written upon that subject. I
give here a few instances out of the many I have gathered:--

“At the bloody battle of Fair Oaks, Va., the rebels, during the first
day’s fight, drove Gen. Casey’s division from their camping-ground, and
rested for the night, confident that the morrow would give them a chance
to drive the Yankee invaders beyond the Chickahominy; but, just at
daylight that morning, Heintzelman’s corps re-enforced our line, and at
daybreak were hurled against the rebel foe. For a long time, the issue
was doubtful; the line swayed to and fro; but at last the Excelsior
Brigade the heroes of Williamsburg--were ordered to charge. That charge
is a matter of history. It gave us the battle-ground of Fair Oaks.

“During the month of June, that brigade held the ground they won, and
skirmishes with the rebels were of daily occurrence. One afternoon,
word was sent to Gen. Sickles that the enemy was advancing in force, and
every preparation was at once made for battle. A few shots were heard
from pickets but a few hundred yards in advance of our battery, and then
all was quiet. What meant that quietness? What were the rebels
doing? Several orderlies sent out to the pickets failed to bring any
satisfactory intelligence. Gen. Sickles turned to Lieut. Palmer, one of
his aides, and acting assistant adjutant-general, and directed him to
take a squad of cavalry, and ride cautiously out to the first bend in
the road, and communicate with our pickets.

“Palmer was a noble fellow,--young, handsome, a perfect gentleman, a
graceful rider, a gallant soldier. He was the pride of the brigade.
Forgetful of the caution given him, with the impetuosity characteristic
of youth, he dashed forward at a full gallop, with sabre drawn. He came
to the first bend in the road, and (fatal mistake) kept on. He came to
the second bend, and, as he turned it, directly across the road was a
company of rebel infantry drawn up to receive him. They fired. One ball
crashed through that handsome face into his brain, while another tore
the arm that bore aloft his trusty blade.

“The shots were heard at the battery; and in a moment Palmer’s riderless
horse, bleeding from a wound in its neck, galloped from the woods,
followed by the squad of cavalry, who told to the general the untimely
fate of his aide.

“‘Boys,’ said the general to the veterans who clustered around to hear
the story, ‘Lieut. Palmer’s body lies out in that road.’ Not a word more
needed saying. Quickly the men fell in, and a general advance of the
line was made to secure it.

“Whilst the cavalrymen were telling the story, a negro-servant of Lieut.
Palmer’s was standing by. Unnoticed, he left the group; down that road,
the Williamsburg Turnpike, he went. He passed our picket-line, and alone
and unattended he walked along that avenue of death to so many, not
knowing what moment he would be laid low by a rebel bullet, or be made a
prisoner to undergo that still worse death, a life of slavery. Upon the
advance of our line, that faithful servant was found by the side of his
dead master,--faithful in life, and faithful amid all the horrors of the
battle-field, even in the jaws of death.

“None but those who knew the locality--the gallant men that make up
Hooker’s division--can appreciate the heroism that possessed that
contraband. That road was lined with sharpshooters. A wounded man once
lay in it three days, neither party daring to rescue him. The act
of that heroic, unknown (I regret that I cannot recall his name) but
faithful contraband, was one of the most daring of the war, and
prompted by none other than the noblest feelings known to the human
breast.”--New-York Independent.

_“In Camp, Bermuda Hundred, Va., May 26, 1864._

“The chivalry of Fitzhugh Lee, and his cavalry division, was badly
worsted in the contest last Tuesday with negro troops composing the
garrison at Wilson’s Landing. Chivalry made a gallant fight, however.
The battle began at half-past twelve, p.m., and ended at six o’clock;
when chivalry retired, disgusted and defeated. Lee’s men dismounted
far in the rear, and fought as infantry. They drove in the pickets and
skirmishers to the intrenchments, and several times made valiant charges
upon our works. To make an assault, it was necessary to come across
an ‘open’ in front of our position, up to the very edge of a deep
and impassable ravine. The rebels, with deafening yells, made furious
onsets; but the negroes did not flinch, and the mad assailants,
discomfited, turned to cover with shrunken ranks. The rebel fighting was
very wicked. It showed that Lee’s heart was bent on taking the negroes
at any cost. Assaults on the centre having failed, the rebels tried
first the left and then the right flank, with no greater success. When
the battle was over, our loss footed up one man killed outright, twenty
wounded, and two missing. Nineteen rebels were prisoners in our hands.
Lee’s losses must have been very heavy. The proof thereof was left on
the ground. Twenty-five rebel bodies lay in the woods unburied; and
pools of blood unmistakably told of other victims taken away. The
estimate, from all the evidence carefully considered, puts the enemy’s
casualties at two hundred. Among the corpses Lee left on the field was
that of Major Breckinridge, of the Second Virginia Cavalry.

“There is no hesitation here in acknowledging the soldierly qualities
which the colored men engaged in this fight have exhibited. Even the
officers who have hitherto felt no confidence in them are compelled to
express themselves mistaken. Gen. Wild, commanding the post, says that
the troops stood up to their work like veterans.”--_Correspondence of
the New-York Times._

“The conduct of the colored troops, by the way, in the actions of
the last few days, is described as superb. An Ohio soldier said to me
to-day, ‘I never saw men fight with such desperate gallantry as those
negroes did. They advanced as grim and stern as death; and, when within
reach of the enemy, struck about them with a pitiless vigor that was
almost fearful.’ Another soldier said to me, ‘These negroes never shrink
nor hold back, no matter what the order. Through scorching heat and
pelting storms, if the order comes, they march with prompt, ready feet.’
Such praise is great praise, and it is deserved. The negroes here
who have been slaves are loyal to a man, and, on our occupation of
Fredericksburg, pointed out the prominent secessionists, who were at
once seized by our cavalry, and put in safe quarters. In a talk with
a group of these faithful fellows, I discovered in them all a perfect
understanding of the issues of the conflict, and a grand determination
to prove themselves worthy of the place and privileges to which they are
to be exalted.”--_New-York Herald_.

_“Carrollton, La., June 2,1864._

“I am writing in the camp of the Twelfth Connecticut Regiment, and about
here are encamped the Nineteenth Army Corps, under marching-orders
for Morganza, near the mouth of the Red River. In this tent sits a
man,--unfortunate because black,--once a slave, but free now, a member
of the grand army of the Unite! States, who is courageous, and who will
wield a sword or thrust a bayonet as vigorously as any, because he has
suffered so bitterly at the hands of those who would crush his race. His
crime was remonstrating with his master for beating his wife. When our
men found him, he was sitting on the floor, two long chains passing
over his shoulders, and fastened to a staple; and over him stood four
soldiers with muskets to prevent his escape. He is not only faithful;
but he is gentlemanly, intelligent, and interesting in conversation and
appearance. His brave heart is full of patriotism, and he is willing to
serve or die for his country.”--_Springfield Republican_.

An instance of the daring of negroes in that section is told by a Lake
Providence (Louisiana) correspondent of “The Philadelphia Inquirer:”--

“Recently a black man, after several days’ urgent request for a musket
and rounds of ammunition, succeeded in securing his wish. He set out
in the night, and by morning reached the vicinity of a rebel guard. He
crept cautiously forward, but was seen and watched. Suddenly the sharp
crack of rifles brought him to his feet. Before him were three rebel
soldiers. He instantly brought his musket to his shoulder, and fired.
One rebel fell dead. The negro, by the time the bewilderment of
the other two had passed off, was upon them with uplifted musket,
threatening them with its immediate descent, unless they surrendered at
once. They acquiesced in a hurry. Leaving the dead rebel to the
dogs, with the other two in tow, the negro returned to our lines, and
delivered them to the authorities. Since this exploit, the negro has
made himself useful in scouting and bringing in information.”

A correspondent, of “The Cleveland Leader,” writing from the
headquarters of the Fifty-ninth United-States Infantry (colored) at
Memphis, under date of June 15, gives a detailed and graphic account
of the brave fight of the colored troops in Gen. Sturgis’s command,
fully confirming previous accounts. The following is a material part of
the statement:--

“About sunrise, June 11, the enemy advanced on the town of Ripley, and
threatened our right, intending to cut us off from the Salem Road. Again
the colored troops were the only ones that could be brought into line;
the Fifty-ninth being on the right, and the Fifty-fifth on the left,
holding the streets. At this time, the men had not more than ten rounds
of ammunition, and the enemy were crowding closer and still closer, when
the Fifty-ninth were ordered to charge on them, which they did in good
style, while singing,--

                   ‘We’ll rally round the flag, boys.’

“This charge drove the enemy back, so that both regiments retreated to a
pine-grove about two hundred yards distant.

“By this time, all the white troops, except one squadron of cavalry,
that formed in the rear, were on the road to Salem; and, when this
brigade came up, they, too, wheeled and left, and in less than ten
minutes this now little band of colored troops found themselves flanked.
They then divided themselves into three squads, and charged the enemy’s
lines; one squad taking the old Corinth Road, then a by-road, to the
left. After a few miles, they came to a road leading to Grand Junction.
After some skirmishing, they arrived, with the loss of one killed and
one wounded.

“Another and the largest squad covered the retreat of the white troops,
completely defending them by picking up the ammunition thrown away by
them, and with it repelling the numerous assaults made by the rebel
cavalry, until they reached Collierville, a distance of sixty miles.
When the command reached Dan’s Mills, the enemy attempted to cut it off
by a charge; but the colored boys in the rear formed, and repelled the
attack, allowing the whole command to pass safely on, when they tore
up the bridge. Passing on to an open country, the officers halted,
and re-organized the brigade into an effective force. They then moved
forward until about four, p.m.; when some Indian flank skirmishers
discovered the enemy, who came up to the left, and in the rear, and
halted. Soon a portion advanced, when a company faced about and fired,
emptying three saddles. From this time until dark, the skirmishing was
constant.

“A corporal in Company C, Fifty-ninth, was ordered to surrender. He let
his would-be captor come close to him; when he struck him with the butt
of his gun.

“While the regiment was fighting in a ditch, and the order came to
retreat, the color-bearer threw out the flag, designing to jump out and
get it; but the rebels rushed for it, and in the struggle one of the
boys knocked down with his gun the reb who had the flag, caught it, and
ran.

“A rebel, with an oath, ordered one of our men to surrender. He,
thinking the reb’s gun was loaded, dropped his gun; but, on seeing the
reb commence loading, our colored soldier jumped for his gun, and with
it struck his captor dead.

“Capt. H., being surrounded by about a dozen rebels, was seen by one of
his men, who called several of his companions: they rushed forward and
fired, killing several of the enemy, and rescued their captain.

“A rebel came up to one, and laid, ‘Come, my good fellow, go with me and
wait on me.’ In an instant, the boy shot his would-be master dead.

“Once when the men charged on the enemy, they rushed forth with the cry,
Remember Fort Pillow.’ The rebs called back, and said, ‘Lee’s men killed
no prisoners.’

“One man in a charge threw his antagonist to the ground, and pinned him
fast; and, as he attempted to withdraw his bayonet, it came off his
gun, and, as he was very busy just then, he left him transfixed to
mother-earth.

“One man killed a rebel by striking him with the butt of his gun, which
he broke; but, being unwilling to stop his work, he loaded and fired
three ‘times before he could get a better gun: the first time, not being
cautious, the rebound of his gun badly cut his lip.

“When the troops were in the ditch, three rebels came to one man,
and ordered him to surrender. His gun being loaded, he shot one, and
bayoneted another: and, forgetting he could bayonet the third, he turned
the butt of his gun, and knocked him down.”

Great were the sufferings which the colored people had to endure for
their fidelity to liberty and the Union during the Rebellion. Space will
allow me to give but one or two instances.

“On Monday, Feb. 21, a band of guerillas, commanded by Col. Moore, of
Louisiana, made a bold dash upon our lines at Waterproof, La., opening
with four pieces of artillery upon Fort Anderson. Capt. Johnson, of the
gunboat ‘No. 9,’ was on hand, and, after two hours’ vigorous shelling,
the enemy abandoned the attack.

“Our loss was three killed. Two colored soldiers, members of the
Eleventh Louisiana Volunteers, were captured, and afterwards brutally
murdered, with an old slave known by the sobriquet of ‘Uncle Peter.’
The bodies of the two soldiers were discovered the next day riddled with
bullets. Old Uncle Peter had been of great service to our Government
in piloting our officers to localities where large quantities of cotton
belonging to the rebel Government were concealed. After capturing this
old man, the assassins compelled him to kneel, with his hands behind
his back, in presence of some fifty slaves on one of the adjoining
plantations; and two Minie-balls pierced his body. They then intimidated
the slaves by threatening to treat all negroes in a similar manner whom
they caught aiding the Yankees.

“Through the instrumentality of this faithful old man, Capt. Anderson
had secured four hundred bales of fine cotton marked ‘Confederate States
of America,’ together with a hundred and fifty fine horses, and a number
of mules. The value of the cotton alone was a hundred thousand
dollars. Among the prisoners captured by our forces was Lieut. Austin,
adjutant-general on Gen. Harris’s staff, with his fine horses and costly
equipments. Capt. Anderson succeeded in capturing the murderer of old
Uncle Peter, and having plenty of slaves to testify who were obliged to
witness the infamous crime, he ordered the guilty wretch to be shot;
and in a few hours the villain paid the penalty of his dastard crime.
Another one of the guerillas engaged in this outrage is now in our
hands, under guard at this place; and it seems like an act of great
injustice to our brave soldiers, that such outlaws should be treated as
prisoners of war.

“After shooting these three defenceless men, the chivalrous knights
robbed old Uncle Peter of a thousand dollars in treasury notes, and
completely stripped the two colored soldiers of all their outer clothing
and their boots. We hear Northern copperheads, who have never been
south of Mason and Dixon’s Line, constantly prating about the
unconstitutionality of arming the slaves of rebels; and often these
prejudiced people accuse the negro troops of cowardice. After the bloody
proof at Milliken’s Bend, Port Hudson, and at Fort Wagner in front of
Charleston, it would seem that nothing more was needed to substantiate
the resolution and undaunted courage of the slave when arrayed against
his master, fighting for the freedom of his race. The following incident
speaks for itself:--

“In the attack on Fort Anderson, Sergt. Robert Thompson exhibited traits
of courage worthy of record. A party of eight guerillas surrounded
Sergt. Thompson of Company I, Eleventh Louisiana, and Corp. Robinson of
the same regiment. The two prisoners were threatened with torture and
death, and were finally placed in charge of three guerillas, while the
balance of their party were harassing our troops. Seeing a revolver
in the sergeant’s belt, they ordered him to give it up. As he fumbled
around his belt, he touched the corporal with his elbow as a signal to
be ready. Drawing it slowly from his belt, he cocked it, and, ere the
rebel could give the alarm, he fell a corpse from his horse. At the
same time, Corp. Robinson shot another; and the third guerilla, without
waiting for further instructions, put the spurs to his horse, and in a
few seconds was out of sight. The two brave men are now on duty ready
for another guerilla visit.”--_Correspondence of The Tribune._

Kindness to Union men and all Northerners was a leading trait in the
character of the colored people of the South throughout the war. James
Henri Brown, special correspondent of “The New-York Tribune,” in his
very interesting work, “Four years in Secessia,” says, “The negro who
had guided us to the railway had told us of another of his color to whom
we could apply for shelter and food at the terminus of our second stage.
We could not find him until nearly dawn; and, when we did, he directed
us to a large barn filled with corn-husks. Into that we crept with our
dripping garments, and lay there for fifteen hours, until we could again
venture forth. Floundering about in the husks, we lost our haversacks,
pipes, and a hat. About nine o’clock, we procured a hearty supper
from the generous negro, who even gave me his hat,--an appropriate
presentation, as one of iny companions remarked, by an ‘intelligent
contraband’ to the reliable gentleman of ‘The New-York Tribune.’ The
negro did picket-duty while we hastily ate our meal, and stood by his
blazing fire. The old African and his wife gave us ‘God bless you,
massa!’ with trembling voice and moistened eyes, as we parted from them
with grateful hearts. ‘God bless negroes!’ say I, with earnest lips.
During our entire captivity, and after our escape, they were ever our
firm, brave, unflinching friends. We never made an appeal to them they
did not answer. They never hesitated to do us a service at the risk even
of life; and, under the most trying circumstances, revealed a devotion
and a spirit of self-sacrifice that were heroic.

“The magic word ‘Yankee,’ opened all their hearts, and elicited the
loftiest virtues. They were ignorant, oppressed, enslaved; but they
always cherished a simple and beautiful faith in the cause of the Union,
and its ultimate triumph, and never abandoned or turned aside from a man
who sought food or shelter on his way to freedom.”

“On the march of Grant’s army from Spottsylvania to the North Anna, at
intervals of every few miles, families of negroes were gathered along
the roadside, exchanging words of salutation to our soldiers as they
passed, and grinning all over their faces. ‘Massa’s gone away, gemmen,’
was the answer in almost all cases where the query in relation to their
master’s whereabouts was raised. ‘Specs he gwan to Richmon’. Dun know.
He went away in a right smart hurry last night: dat’s all I knows.’ A
sight of the fine, athletic, plump appearance of some of these negroes,
of both sexes and all ages, would have driven a negro-trader crazy,
especially when he became convinced of the fact that, according to the
terms of President Lincoln’s proclamation, these negroes are free
the moment the lines of the Union army closed in upon them. It was a
pleasing spectacle, and commingled with not a little pathos, to hear
the benedictions which the aged and infirm negroes poured out upon our
soldiers as they marched by. ‘I’se been waitin’ for you,’ said an old
negro, whose eyesight was almost entirely gone, and whose head was
covered with the frosts of some eighty-five winters. ‘Ah! I’se been
waitin’ for you gemmen some time. I knew you was comin’, kase I heerd
massa and missus often talkin’ about you;’ and then the old hero
chuckled, and almost ground his ivories out of his head.”

No heroism surpasses that of the poor slave-boy Sam, on board the
gunboat “Pawnee,” who, while passing shell from the magazine, had both
legs shot away by a ball from the rebel guns; but, still holding the
shell, cried out at the top of his voice, “Pass up de shell, boys.
Nebber mine me: my time is up.” The greatest fidelity of the white man
to the Union finds its parallel in the nameless negro, who, when his
master sent him out to saddle his horse, mounted the animal, rode in
haste to the Federal lines, and pointed out the road of safety to the
harassed, retreating Army of the Potomac; then, returning for his wife
and children, was caught by the rebels, and shot. When the rebels made
their raid into the State of Pennsylvania, and the governor called the
people to arms for defence, it is a well-known fact that a company of
colored men from Philadelphia were the first to report at Harrisburg
for service. These men were among the most substantial of the colored
citizens in point of wealth and moral culture. Yet these patriotic
individuals, together with all of their class, are disfranchised in that
State.

In the engagement on James Island between the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts
and the rebels, the latter surrounded three companies of the former,
which were on picket-duty, and ordered them to surrender; the colored
troops replied by making the best possible use of their muskets. In the
fight, Sergt. Wilson, of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, fought bravely,
having fired his last cartridge, used the butt of his gun upon his
enemies, and, even after being severely wounded, still struggled
against the foe with his unloaded weapon. The enemy, seeing this, called
repeatedly to the negro to surrender; but Wilson refused, and fought
till he was shot dead.



CHAPTER XL--FALL OF THE CONFEDERACY, AND DEATH OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.


_Flight of Jeff. Davis from Richmond.--Visit of President Lincoln to the
Rebel Capital.--Welcome by the Blacks.--Surrender of Gen. Lee.--Death of
Abraham Lincoln.--The Nation in Tears._


Jefferson Davis and his cabinet had hastily quitted Richmond, on
Sunday, the third day of April, 1865; the Union troops had taken
possession the day following; and Abraham Lincoln, President of the
United States, and the best-hated man by the rebels, entered the city a
short time after. For the following account of the President’s visit, I
am indebted to a correspondent of “The Boston Journal:”

“I was standing upon the bank of the river, viewing the scene of
desolation, when a boat, pulled by twelve sailors, came up stream. It
contained President Lincoln and his son, Admiral Porter, Capt. Penrose
of the army, Capt. A. H. Adams of the navy, Lieut. W. W. Clements of the
signal corps. Somehow the negroes on the bank of the river ascertained
that the tall man wearing the black hat was President Lincoln. There was
a sudden shout. An officer who had just picked up fifty negroes to do
work on the dock found himself alone. They left work, and crowded round
the President. As he approached, I said to a colored woman,--

“‘There is the man who made you free.’

“‘What, massa?’

“‘That is President Lincoln.’

“‘Dat President Linkum?’

“‘Yes.’

“She gazed at him a moment, clapped her hands, and jumped straight up
and down, shouting, ‘Glory, glory, glory!’ till her voice was lost in a
universal cheer.

“There was no carriage near; so the President, leading his son, walked
three-quarters of a mile up to Gen. Weitzel’s headquarters,--Jeff.
Davis’s mansion. What a spectacle it was! Such a hurly-burly, such wild,
indescribable, ecstatic joy I never witnessed. A colored man acted as
guide. Six sailors, wearing their round blue caps and short jackets and
bagging pants, with navy carbines, were the advance-guard. Then came the
President and Admiral Porter, flanked by the officers accompanying
him, and the correspondent of ‘The Journal;’ then six more sailors with
carbines,--twenty of us all told,--amid a surging mass of men, women,
and children, black, white, and yellow, running, shouting, dancing,
swinging their caps, bonnets, and handkerchiefs. The soldiers saw him,
and swelled the crowd, cheering in wild enthusiasm. All could see him,
he was so tall, so conspicuous.

“One colored woman, standing in a doorway as the president passed along
the sidewalk, shouted, ‘Thank you, dear Jesus, for this! thank you,
Jesus!’ Another standing by her side was clapping her hands, and
shouting, ‘Bless de Lord!’

“A colored woman snatched her bonnet from her head, and whirled it in
the air, screaming with all her might, ‘God bless you, Massa Linkum!’

“A few white women looking out from the houses waved their
handkerchiefs. One lady in a large and elegant building looked a while,
and turned away her head as if it was a disgusting sight.

“President Lincoln walked in silence, acknowledging the salutes of
officers and soldiers, and of the citizens, black and white. It was the
man of the people among the people. It was the great deliverer meeting
the delivered. Yesterday morning the majority of the thousands who
crowded the streets and hindered our advance were slaves: now they were
free, and beholding him who had given them their liberty.”

On the 9th of the same month, Gen. Lee, with his whole army, surrendered
to Gen. Grant; and thus fell the Southern Confederacy, the enemy of the
negro and of Republican government. The people of the North, already
tired of the war, at once gave themselves up to rejoicing all over the
free States.

But the time of merry-making was doomed to be short; for slavery, the
cause of the Rebellion, was dying hard. The tyrants of the South, so
long accustomed to rule, were now determined to ruin. Slavery must have
its victim. If it could not conquer, it must at least die an honorable
death; and nothing could give it more satisfaction than to commit some
great crime in its last struggles.

Therefore the death of Abraham Lincoln by the hand of an assassin
was but the work of slavery. It murdered Lovejoy at Alton, it slowly
assassinated Torrey in a Maryland prison, it struck down Sumner in the
Senate, it had taken the lives, by starvation, of hundreds at Anderson,
Richmond, and Salisbury; why spare the great liberator?

President Lincoln fell a sacrifice to his country’s salvation as
absolutely and palpably, as though he had been struck down while leading
an assault on the ramparts of Petersburg. The wretch who killed him was
impelled by no private malice, but imagined himself an avenger of that
downcast idol, which, disliking to be known simply as slavery, styles
itself “The South.” He was murdered, not that slavery might live; but
that it might bring down its most conspicuous enemy in its fall.

The tears of four millions of slaves whom he had liberated, five hundred
thousand free blacks whose future condition he had made better, and the
twenty millions of whites in the free States, stricken as they never had
been before by the death of a single individual, followed his body to
the grave. No nation ever mourned more sincerely the loss of its head
than did the people of the United States that of President Lincoln. We
all love his memory still.

          “His name is not a sculptured thing, where old Renown has reared

          Her marble in the wilderness, by smoke of battle seared;

          But graven on life-leaping hearts, where _Freedom’s_ banners wave,

          It gleams to bid the tyrant back, and _loose the fettered slave_.”

Faults he had; but we forget them all in his death. It seemed to us that
God had raised this man up to do a great work; and when he had finished
his mission, flushed with success over the enemies of his country, while
the peals of exultation for the accomplishment of the noble deed were
yet ringing in his ears, and while our hearts were palpitating more
generously for him, he permitted him to fall, that we should be humbled,
and learn our own weakness, and be taught to put more dependence in the
ruler of the universe than in man.

               ‘So sleep the good, who sink to rest

               By all their country’s wishes blest.

               When Spring with dewy fingers cold

               Returns to deck their hallowed mould,

               She there shall dress a sweeter sod

               Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod:

               By forms unseen, their dirge is sung;

               By fairy hands, their knell is rung;

               There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,

               To bless the turf that wraps their clay;

               And Freedom shall a while repair,

               To dwell a weeping hermit there.”



CHAPTER XLI--PRESIDENT ANDREW JOHNSON.


_Origin of Andrew Johnson.--His Speeches in Tennessee.--The Negro’s
Moses.--The Deceived Brahmin.--The Comparison.--Interview with
Southerners.--Northern Delegation.--Delegation of Colored Men.--Their
Appeal._


Springing from the highest circle of the lowest class of whites of the
South, gradually rising, coming up over a tailor’s board, and all the
obstacles that slaveholding society places between an humbly-born man
and social and political elevation, Andrew Johnson entered upon his
presidential duties, at the death of Mr. Lincoln, with the hearty good
feeling of the American people. True, he had taken a glass too much on
the day of his inauguration as vice-president, and the nation had
not forgotten it; yet there were many palliating circumstances to be
offered. The weather was cold, his ride from Tennessee had been long and
fatiguing, he had met with a host of friends, who, like himself, were
not afraid of the “critter.” And, after all, who amongst that vast
concourse of politicians, on that fourth day of March, had not taken a
“Tom and Jerry,” a “whiskey punch,” a “brandy smash,”--or a “cocktail”?
Again: the people had been robbed of their idol, and suddenly plunged
into grief, and felt like looking up the commendable acts of the new
President, rather than finding fault, and were desirous to see how far
he was capable of filling the gap so recently made vacant.

They remembered that when the secessionists were withdrawing from
Congress, in 1860, Mr. Johnson said,

“If I were president, I would try them for treason, and, if convicted,
I would hang them.” This was mark number one in his favor. They had
not forgotten his address to the Tennessee Convention, which, in the
preceding January, had, by an almost unanimous vote, declared slavery in
that State forever abolished.

This speech was made on the 14th of January, and is very uncompromising
and eloquent. “Yesterday,” said he to the Convention, “you broke the
tyrant’s rod, and set the captive free. (Loud applause.) Yes, gentlemen,
yesterday you sounded the death-knell of negro aristocracy, and
performed the funeral obsequies of that thing called slavery.... I feel
that God smiles on what you have done. Oh, how it contrasts with the
shrieks and cries and wailings which the institution of slavery has
brought on the land!”

And his speech to the colored people of Nashville in the preceding
October was exceedingly touching, by reason of its tender, heartfelt
compassion for all the degradation, insult, and cruelty which had been
heaped upon that poor and unoffending people so long. Its scorn and
sarcasm were terrible as he arraigned the “master” class for their long
career of lust, tyranny, and crime. He hoped a Moses would arise to lead
this persecuted people to their promised land of freedom. “You are our
Moses,” shouted first one, and then a great multitude of voices. But the
speaker went on,

“God, no doubt, has prepared, somewhere, an instrument for the great
work he designs to perform in behalf of this outraged people; and in due
time your leader will come forth,--your Moses will be revealed to you.”

“We want no Moses but you!” again shouted the crowd. “Well, then,”
 replied Mr. Johnson, “humble and unworthy as I am, if no better shall be
found, I will indeed be your Moses, and lead you through the Red Sea of
war and bondage to a fairer future of liberty and peace.”

These were brave words in behalf of the rights of man, and weighed
heavily in Mr. Johnson’s favor. Also in his first public words, after
taking the oath as President of the United States, Mr. Johnson referred
to _the past_ of his life as an indication of his course and policy in
the future, rather than to make any verbal declarations now; thereby
manifesting an honorable willingness to be judged by his acts, and a
consciousness that the record was one which he need not be ashamed to
own.

What better words or greater promises could be demanded? And, moreover,
the American people are admirers of self-made men. Indeed, it is the
foundation of true republican principles; and those who come to the
surface by their own genius or energies are sure to be well received
by the masses. But was Andrew Johnson a genius? was he shrewd? was he
smart? If not, how could he have attained to such a high position in
his own State? Were the people there all fools, that they should send
a mountebank to the United-States Senate? Or were they, as well as
the National-Republican Convention that nominated him in 1864 for the
Vice-Presidency, deceived?

Macaulay, in his Criticism on the Poems of Robert Montgomery, says, “A
pious Brahmin, it is written, made a vow, that, on a certain day, he
would sacrifice a sheep; and on the appointed morning he went forth to
buy one. There lived in his neighborhood three rogues, who knew his vow,
and laid a scheme for profiting by it. The first met him, and said, ‘O
Brahmin! wilt thou buy a sheep? I have one fit for sacrifice.’--‘It is
for that very purpose,’ said the holy man, ‘that I came forth this
day.’ Then the impostor opened a bag, and brought out of it an unclean
beast,--an ugly dog, lame and blind. ‘Thereon the Brahmin cried out,
‘Wretch, who touchest things impure, and utterest things untrue, callest
thou that cur a sheep?’--‘Truly,’ answered the other, ‘it is a sheep of
the finest fleece, and of the sweetest flesh. O Brahmin! it will be
an offering most acceptable to the gods!’--‘Friend,’ said the Brahmin,
‘either thou or I must be blind.’ Just then, one of the accomplices came
up. ‘Praised be the gods,’ said this second rogue, ‘that I have been
saved the trouble of going to the market for a sheep! This is such a
sheep as I wanted. For how much wilt thou sell it?’ When the Brahmin
heard this, his mind waved to and fro, like one swinging in the air at
a holy festival. ‘Sir,’ said he to the new-comer, ‘take heed what thou
dost. This is no sheep, but an unclean cur.’--‘O Brahmin!’ said the
new-comer, ‘thou art drunk or mad.’ At this time, the third confederate
drew near. ‘Let us ask this man,’ said the Brahmin, ‘what the creature
is; and I will stand by what he shall say.’ To this the others agreed;
and the Brahmin called out, ‘O stranger! what dost thou call this
beast?’--‘Surely, O Brahmin!’ said the knave, ‘it is a fine sheep.’ Then
the Brahmin said, ‘Surely the gods have taken away my senses!’ and he
asked pardon of him who carried the dog, and bought it for a measure of
rice and a pot of ghee; and offered it up to the gods, who, being wroth
at this unclean sacrifice, smote him with a sore disease in all his
joints!”

The poor Brahmin was never more thoroughly imposed upon in receiving
the dog for a sheep than were the American people in accepting Andrew
Johnson as a statesman, or even as a friend of liberty and republican
institutions. That he hated the slaveocracy, there is not the slightest
doubt; for they were far above him, and all his efforts to be recognized
by them as an equal had failed.

But did he like the negro any better than the master? It is said, that
while in his apprenticeship, on one occasion, young Johnson was passing
along the street with a pair of pants upon his arm, when a well-dressed
free negro accidentally ran against him, pushing the tailor into a
ditch; whereupon, the latter threw a handful of mud at the black man,
soiling his clothes very much. The negro turned, and indignantly said,
“You better mind what you ‘bout, you low white clodhopper, poor white
trash!” This retort of the negro no doubt touched a tender chord; for
it reminded the rising young man of the “pit from whence he was
digged,” and it is said he hated the race ever after. _But it must be
acknowledged_ that Mr. Johnson is a big man in little things; that he
showed some shrewdness in taking advantage of the Union feeling, and
especially the antislavery sentiment, of the North, in wiggling himself
into the Republican party by his bunkum speeches. After all, what is the
real character of the man?

               “Great Judas of the nineteenth century,

               Foul political traitor of the age,

               Persistent speeechmaker, covered with falsity,

               Come, sit now for your portrait. I will paint

               As others see you,--men who love their God,

               And hate not even you, aye you, attaint

               With love of self, and power that’s outlawed.

               Behold the picture! See a drunken man

               Whose age brings nothing but increase of sin,--

               A deceptive ‘policy,’ a hateful plan

               To deceive the people, and reenslave the sons of Ham!

               Now see it stretching out a slimy palm,

               And striking hands with rebels. Nay, nay!

               It grasps Columbia by the throat and arm,

               And seeks to give her to that beast of prey.”

Intensely in love with himself, egotistical, without dignity,
tyrannical, ungrateful, and fond of flattery, Mr. Johnson was entirely
unprepared to successfully resist the overtures of the slaveholding
aristocracy, by whom he had so long wished to be recognized. It was some
weeks after the death of the good President, that a committee of these
Southerners visited the White House. They found Mr. Johnson alone; for
they had asked for an audience, which had been readily granted. Humbly
they came, the lords of the lash, the men who, five years before, would
not have shaken hands with him with a pair of tongs ten feet long. Many
of them the President had seen on former occasions: all of them he knew
by reputation. As they stood before him, he viewed them from head to
feet, and felt an inward triumph. He could scarcely realize the fact,
and asked himself, “Is it possible? have I my old enemies before me,
seeking favors?” Yes: it was so; and they had no wish to conceal the
fact. The chairman of the committee, a man of years, one whose very
look showed that he was not without influence among those who knew him,
addressing the Chief Magistrate, said, “Mr. President, we come as a
committee to represent to you the condition of the South, and its wants.
We fear that your Excellency has had things misrepresented to you by
the Radicals; and knowing you to be a man of justice, a statesman of
unsullied reputation, one who to-day occupies the proudest position of
any man in the world, we come to lay our wants before you. We have, in
the past, been your political opponents. In the future, we shall be your
friends; because we now see that you were right, and we were wrong. We
ask, nay, we beg you to permit us to reconstruct the Southern States.
Our people, South, are loyal to a man, and wish to return at once
to their relations in the General Government. We look upon you, Mr.
President, as the embodiment of the truly chivalrous Southerner,--one
who, born and bred in the South, understands her people: to you we
appeal for justice; for we are sure that your impulses are pure.
Your future, Mr. President, is to be a brilliant one. At the next
presidential election, the South will be a unit for the man who saves
her from the hands of these Yankees, who now, under the protection of
the Freedman’s Bureau, are making themselves rich. We shall stand by the
man that saves us; and you are that man. Your genius, your sagacity,
and your unequalled statesmanship, mark you out as the father of his
country. Without casting a single ungenerous reflection upon the great
name of George Washington, allow me to say what I am sure the rest of
the delegation will join me in, and that is, that, a hundred years
to come, the name of Andrew Johnson will be the brightest in American
history.” Several times during the delivery of the above speech, the
President was seen to wipe his eyes, for he was indeed moved to tears.
At its conclusion, he said, “Gentlemen, your chairman has perfectly
overwhelmed me. I was not, I confess, prepared for these kind words,
this cordial support, of the people of the South. Your professions of
loyalty, which I feel to be genuine, and your promises of future aid,
unman me. I thought you were my enemies, and it is to enemies that I
love to give battle. As to my friends, they can always govern me. I will
lay your case before the cabinet.”--“We do not appeal to your cabinet,”
 continued the chairman, “it is to you, Mr. President, that we come. Were
you a common man, we should expect you to ask advice of your cabinet;
but we regard you as master, aud your secretaries as your servants. You
are capable of acting without consulting them: we think you the Andrew
Jackson of to-day. Presidents, sir, are regarded as mere tools. We hope
you, like Jackson, will prove an exception. We, the people of the South,
are willing to let you do precisely as you please; and still we will
support you. We are proud to acknowledge you as our leader. All we ask
is, that we shall be permitted to organize our State Governments, elect
our senators and representatives, and return at once into the Union;
and this, Mr. President, lies entirely with you, unless you acknowledge
yourself to be in leading-strings, which we know is not so; for Andrew
Johnson can never play second fiddle to men or parties.” These last
remarks affected Mr. Johnson very much, which he in vain attempted
to conceal. “Gentlemen,” replied the President, “I confess that your
chairman, has, in his remarks, made an impression on my mind that I
little dreamed of when you entered. I admit that I am not pleased with
the manner in which the Radicals are acting.”--“Allow me,” said the
chairman, interrupting the President, “to say a word or two that I
had forgotten.” “Proceed,” said the Chief Magistrate. “You are not
appreciated,” continued the chairman, “by the Radicals. They speak of
you sneeringly as the ‘accidental President,’ just as if you were not
the choice of the people. The people of the North would never elect you
again. No man, except Mr. Lincoln, has ever been elected a second time
to the presidency, from the free States. They have so many peddling
politicians, like so many hungry wolves, seeking office, that they are
always crying, ‘Rotation, rotation.’ But, with us of the South, it is
different. When we find a man with genius, talent, a statesman, we hold
on to him, and keep him in office. You, Mr. President, can carry all
the Southern, and enough of the Northern States to elect you to another
term.”--“Yes,” responded one of the committee, “to two terms more.”
 Mr. Johnson, with suppressed emotion, said, “I will at once lay down a
policy, which, I think, will satisfy the entire people of the South;
but, but--I said that treason should be made odious, and traitors should
be punished: what can I do so as not to stultify myself?”

“I see it as clear as day, Mr. President,” said the chairman. “You have
already made treason odious by those eloquent speeches which you have
delivered at various times on the Rebellion; and now you can punish
traitors by giving them office. St. Paul said, ‘If thine enemy hunger,
feed him; if he thirst, give him drink: for in so doing, thou shalt heap
coals of fire on his head.’ Now, many of the Southerners are your old
enemies; and they are hungry for office, and thirst for the good liquor
they used to get in the congressional saloons.”

“I am satisfied,” said the President, “that I can restore the Southern
States to their relations to the Union, and let all who held office
before the war, resume their positions again.--“Yes,” remarked a member
of the committee; “and you can build up a new party of your own,
that shall take the place of the Democratic party, which is already
dead.”--“Very true,” replied the President, “there is both room and need
of another political party. You may rest assured, gentlemen, that you
will be re-instated in your former positions.” The committee withdrew.
“My policy” was commenced. The Republicans did not like it; and a
committee was sent to the White House, composed of some of the leading
men of the North, the chairman of which was a man some six feet in
height, stout, and well made; features coarse; full head of hair,
touched with the frost of over fifty winters; dressed in a gray suit,
light felt hat. The committee, on entering, found the President
seated, with his feet under the table. He did not rise to welcome the
delegation, but seemed to push his feet still farther under the table,
for fear that they might think he was going to rise. The chairman, whom
I have already described, said in a rather strong voice, “Mr. President,
we have called to ask you to use your official power to protect the
Union men of the South, white and black, from the murderous feeling of
the rebels.

“As faithful friends, and supporters of your Administration, we most
respectfully petition you to suspend for the present your policy towards
the rebel States. We should not present this prayer if we were not
painfully convinced that, thus far, it has failed to obtain any
reasonable guarantees for that security in the future which is essential
to peace and reconciliation. To our minds, it abandons the freedmen
to the control of their ancient masters, and leaves the national
debt exposed to repudiation by returning rebels. The Declaration
of Independence asserts the equality of all men, and that rightful
government can be founded only on the consent of the governed. We see
small chance of peace unless these great principles are practically
established. Without this, the house will continue divided against
itself.”

“Gentlemen,” replied the President, “I will take your request into
consideration, and give it that attention that it demands.” The
committee left, satisfied that Mr. Johnson was a changed man. Soon
after, the President was called upon by another delegation, a committee
of colored men, consisting of Frederick Douglass, William Whipper,
George T. Downing, and L. H. Douglass. The negro race was singularly
fortunate in having these gentlemen to represent them; for they are not
only amongst the ablest of their class, but are men of culture, and all
of them writers and speakers of distinguished, ability. The delegation,
on entering, found the President seated, with his feet under the table,
and his hands in his breeches pockets, and looking a little sour.
Mr. Downing, the delegate from New England, first addressed the Chief
Magistrate; and his finely chosen-words, and well-rounded periods, no
doubt made the President not a lit-, tie uneasy, for he looked daggers
at the speaker. The reflection of Downing’s highly cultivated mind, as
seen through his admirable address, doubtless reminded the President
of his own inferiority, and made him still more petulant; for, when he
replied to the delegate, he said,--

“I am free to say to you that I do not like to be arraigned by some who
can get up handsomely-rounded periods, and deal in rhetoric, and talk
about abstract ideas of liberty, who never perilled life, liberty, or
property. This kind of theoretical, hollow, unpractical friendship,
amounts to very little.”

After Downing, came the strong words of Douglass. Of this speaker, the
President had heard much, and appeared to eye him from head to feet;
took his hands out of his pockets; and rested his elbows upon the table.
Douglass, no doubt, reminded him of the well-dressed free negro, who,
nearly forty years before, had pushed him into the ditch; and this
recollection brought up, also, that hateful tailor’s bench, and, still
back of that, his low origin.

Mr. Douglass also reminded the President of his promise to be the
negro’s Moses. This last remark was cruel in the speaker, for it carried
Mr. Johnson back to the days when he was carrying out that deceptive
policy by which he secured the nomination on the ticket with Mr.
Lincoln; and he appeared much irritated at the remark. His whole reply
to the delegation was weak, unfair, and without the slightest atom of
logic. Mr. Downing addressed the President as follows:--

“We present ourselves to your Excellency to make known, with pleasure,
the respect which we are glad to cherish for you,--a respect which is
your due as our Chief Magistrate. It is our desire that you should
know that we come, feeling that we are friends meeting friends. We may,
however, have manifested our friendship by not coming to further tax
your already much-burdened and valuable time; but we have another object
in calling. We are in a passage to equality before the law. God hath
made it by opening a Red Sea. We would have your assistance through the
same. We come to you in the name of the United States, and are delegated
to come by some who have unjustly worn iron manacles on their bodies;
by some whose minds have been manacled by class legislation in States
called free. The colored people of the States of Illinois, Wisconsin,
Alabama, Mississippi, Florida, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia,
Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York, the New-England States, and the
District of Columbia, have specially delegated us to come. Our coming
is a marked circumstance. We are not satisfied with an amendment
prohibiting slavery; but we wish that amendment enforced with
appropriate legislation. This is our desire. We ask for it
intelligently, with the knowledge and conviction that the fathers of
the Revolution intended freedom for every American; that they should be
protected in their rights as citizens, and be equal before the law. We
are Americans,--native-born Americans. We are citizens. We are glad
to have it known to the world that we bear no doubtful record on this
point. On this fact, and with confidence in the triumph of justice, we
base our hope. We see no recognition of color or race in the organic law
of the land. It knows no privileged class, and therefore we cherish the
hope that we may be fully enfranchised, not only here in this district,
but throughout the land. We respectfully submit, that rendering any
thing less than this will be rendering to us less than our just due;
that granting any thing less than our full rights will be a disregard of
our just rights,--of due respect for our feelings. If the powers that be
do so, it will be used as a license, as it were, or an apology, for
any community or individual, so disposed, to outrage our rights and
feelings. It has been shown in the present war that the Government may
justly reach its strong arm into States, and demand from them--from
those who owe it--their allegiance, assistance, and support. May it not
reach out a like arm to secure and protect its subjects upon whom it has
a claim?”

Following Mr. Downing, Mr. Frederick Douglass advanced, and addressed
the President, saying,--

“Mr. President, we are not here to enlighten you, sir, as to your duties
as the Chief Magistrate of this republic, but to show our respect,
and to present in brief the claims of our race to your favorable
consideration. In the order of divine Providence, you are placed in a
position where you have the power to save or destroy us, to bless or
blast us,--I mean our whole race. Your noble and humane predecessor
placed in our hands the sword, to assist in saving the nation; and we do
hope that you, his able successor, will favorably regard the placing in
our hands the ballot with which to save ourselves. We shall submit no
argument on that point. The fact that we are the subjects of government,
and subject to taxation, subject to volunteer in the service of the
country, subject to being drafted, subject to bear the burdens of
the State, makes it not improper that we should ask to share in the
privileges of this condition. I have no speech to make on this occasion.
I simply submit these observations as a limited expression of the views
and feelings of the delegation with which I have come.”

I omit Mr. Johnson’s long and untruthful speech, and give the reply of
the delegation, which he would not listen to:--

“Mr. President, in consideration of a delicate sense of propriety, as
well as your own repeated intimation of indisposition to discuss or to
listen to a reply to the views and opinions you were pleased to express
to us in your elaborate speech to-day, we would respectfully take this
method of reply thereto.

“Believing, as we do, that the views and opinions expressed in that
address are entirely unsound, and prejudicial to the highest interests
of our race, as well as of our country, we cannot do otherwise than
expose the same, and, so far as may be in our power, arrest their
dangerous influence.

“It is not necessary at this time to call attention to more than two or
three features of your remarkable address.

“The first point to which we feel especially bound to take exception is
your attempt to found a policy opposed to our enfranchisement, upon
the alleged ground of an existing hostility on the part, of the former
slaves towards the poor white people of the South.

“We admit the existence of this hostility, and hold that it is entirely
reciprocal.

“But you obviously commit an error by drawing an argument from an
incident of a state of slavery, and making it a basis for a policy
adapted to a state of freedom.

“The hostility between the whites and blacks of the South is easily
explained. It has its root and sap in the relation of slavery, and was
incited on both sides by the cunning of the slave-masters. These masters
secured their ascendency over both the poor whites and the blacks by
putting enmity between them. They divided both to conquer each.

“There was no earthly reason why the blacks should not hate and dread
the poor whites when in a state of slavery; for it was from this class
that their masters received their slave-catchers, slave-drivers, and
overseers. They were the men called in upon all occasions by the masters
when any fiendish outrage was to be committed upon the slave.

“Now, sir, you cannot but perceive that, the cause of this hatred
removed, the effect must be removed also. Slavery is abolished. The
cause of antagonism is removed; and you must see that it is altogether
illogical--‘putting new wine into old bottles, mending new garments with
old clothes’--to legislate from slave-holding and slave-driving premises
for a people whom you have repeatedly declared your purpose to maintain
in freedom. Besides, even if it were true, as you allege, that the
hostility of the blacks toward the poor whites must necessarily be the
same in a state of freedom as in a state of slavery, in the name of
Heaven, we reverently ask, how can you, in view of your professed desire
to promote the welfare of the black man, deprive him of all means of
defence, and clothe him whom you regard as his enemy in the panoply of
political power?

“Can it be that you would recommend a policy which would arm the strong
and cast down the defenceless? Can you, by any possibility of reasoning,
regard this as just, fair, or wise?

“Experience proves that those are oftenest abused who can be abused with
the greatest impunity. Men are whipped oftenest who are whipped easiest.
Peace between races is not to be secured by degrading one race, and
exalting another; by giving power to one race, and withholding it
from another: but by maintaining a state of equal justice between all
parties,--first pure, then peaceable.

“On the colonization theory that you were pleased to broach, very much
could be said. It is impossible to suppose, in view of the usefulness of
the black man in time of peace as a laborer in the South, and in time
of war as a soldier at the North, and the growing respect for his rights
among the people, and his increasing adaptation to a high state of
civilization in this his native land, that there can ever come a time
when he can be removed from this country without a terrible shock to its
prosperity and peace.

“Besides, the worst enemy of the nation could not cast upon its fair
name a greater infamy than to suppose that negroes could be tolerated
among them in a state of the most degrading slavery and oppression, and
must be cast away and driven into exile for no other cause than having
been freed from their chains.”

The most unhandsome and untruthful remarks of the President to the
delegation are those in which he charges the slave-masters and the slave
with combining to keep the poor whites in degradation.

The construction which he put upon his promise to the blacks of
Tennessee--to be the “Moses to lead the black race through the Red Sea
of bondage” to--expatriation--was mean in the extreme, and shows a mind
whose moral degradation is without its parallel.



CHAPTER XLII--ILL TREATMENT OF COLORED PEOPLE SOUTH

_The Old Slave-holders.--The Freedmen.--Murders.--School-teachers.
--Riot at Memphis.--Mob at New Orleans.--Murder of Union Men--Riot at a
Camp-meeting._


Haughty and scornful as ever; regarding themselves as overpowered, but
not conquered; openly regretting their failure to establish a Southern
Confederacy; backed up by President Johnson in their rebellious
course,--the Southerners appear determined to reduce the blacks to a
state of serfdom if they cannot have them as slaves. The new labor-laws
of all the Southern States place the entire colored population as much
in the hands of the whites as they were in the palmiest day of chattel
slavery, if we except the buying and selling. The negro _whipping-post_,
which the laws of war swept away, has, under Andrew Johnson’s
reconstruction policy, been again re-instated throughout the South.
The Freedmen’s Bureau is as powerless to-day to protect the emancipated
blacks in their rights as was the Hon. Samuel Hoar to remain in South
Carolina against the will of the slave-holders of the days of Calhoun
and of McDuffie. Where the old masters cannot control their former
slaves, they do not hesitate to shoot them down in open day, as the
following will show:--

A Texas correspondent writes to “The New-York Evening Post” (he dare not
allow his name and residence to be printed) as follows:--

“Every day I hear of murders of freedmen. Since five o’clock this
afternoon, four new ones have been reported here. The disloyal press
suppress the mention of such occurrences.

“Should there be another outbreak in Texas, very many Union men, as well
as a large proportion of freedmen, would at once be massacred in order
to bring about such another reign of terror as would make the South a
unit....

“Three freedmen were murdered in or near the line of an adjoining county
a few days ago. The wagon which one of them was driving was robbed of
all the fine goods it contained. The other two freedmen were shot by the
same man, who is believed to be their former owner. The head of one
of them was cut off, and they were left unburied. No investigation has
been, or probably will be, made into these murders. If any Union man
were to move in the matter, it would be at the peril of his life.

“The brave and loyal man who told me of these murders was applied to by
a freed man, a kinsman of one of the murdered, for advice. The freedman
was told to go to Austin, and report the facts to the agent of the
Freedmen’s Bureau: but he appears not to have arrived. Like the freedman
despatched by the chief justice of Refugio County, with a letter setting
forth the disorders in that county, he may have been shot on the road.

“My informant, seeing that I set about writing down the facts as to
these murders just as he stated them, said to me, ‘Do not make my name
public, for it is all I can do to hold my own in----------county just
now;’ and added, ‘Ikeep no money in my house but a few dollars for
current expenses. I can take care of myself in the daytime, but I do not
feel safe at night.’”

On the 2d of April, 1866, a Mr. Quisenbery was tried at the Circuit
Court for the County of Louisa, Va., for the murder of Washington Green.
Green was the former slave of Quisenbery, had worked for said Quisenbery
from the fall of Richmond, about the 3d of April, 1865, until about the
1st of October, 1865, when Quiserinbery told him, the said Washington
Green, that he had better go and get work somewhere else; that he would
not pay him for any thing that he had done. Washington Green went to
work for a lady to get some shingles for her, and Quisenbery made a
contract with this lady, that she should pay him, for Green’s getting
the shingles, by thrashing out his, Quisenbery’s, wheat. It did not
satisfy Washington Green, that Quisenbery should not only refuse to pay
him for the work which he had already done for him, but that he should
also collect what he had earned by hard working for this lady. Green
went to Quisenbery, and asked him for the amount of getting the shingles
for this lady. Quisenbery said, “Washington, this is three times that
you have been after me for that money; I am now going to my hog-pen, and
I warn you not to follow me.” He repeated that warning three times. He
then went to the hog-pen, got over the fence, stooped down to throw out
some corn that the hogs had not eaten. He looked up, and saw Washington
Green at or near the fence, and said, “I thought I warned you not to
follow me,” and pulled out his knife, and stabbed Green in the throat,
and killed him instantly. This is the evidence and confession of
Quisenbery, who was tried, and the jury found a verdict of _not guilty_,
without scarcely leaving the jury-box; and Quisenbery was declared
guiltless of any crime amid the plaudits of the people.

At Jacksonville, Fla., on the 20th of June last, a freedman complained
before Col. Hart, that his last employer would not pay him. The black
man afterwards went to the pine-woods, chopping logs. While absent, the
man of whom he had complained got a woman to go to the freedman’s wife,
and get into a difficulty with her; whereupon the freedman’s wife was
arrested, tried, found guilty, and fined fifty dollars, being unable to
pay which, she was _put up at auction_, and sold to the person who would
take her for the shortest time, and pay fine and costs. The _shortest
time was four years!_ Under another law of the State, the children were
_bound out till they should become of age!_

A free colored man named Jordan opened, by permission of the commandant
of the post at Columbia, Tenn., a school for the blacks. The school
went on smoothly till Monday, the 11th instant, when two soldiers of the
Eighth Tennessee Cavalry went into the school, and broke it up; but the
teacher, being so advised, resumed his labor the next day. But, on the
14th, Messrs. Datty, Porter, White, and others, including soldiers of
the Eighth Tennessee, the party headed by White the city constable,
proceeded to the schoolroom, seized the teacher, and brought him under
guard to the court-house, where he received a mock trial. When being
asked for his authority for teaching a school, Mr. Jordan replied, that
Lieut.-Col. Brown and Major Sawyer were his authority, and wished they
would bring Major Sawyer in. One of the men went out, but was absent
only for a moment, when he came in, stating that Major Sawyer could
not be found; whereupon Mr. Andrews ordered that the teacher be given
twenty-five lashes. And they were administered, the man receiving the
scourge like a martyr, telling his persecutors that he was willing to
suffer for the right; and that Christ had received the same punishment
for the same purpose; and he thought, if he could teach the children to
read the Bible so that they might learn of heaven, he was doing a good
work. To this, a soldier of the Eighth Tennessee said, “If you want to
go to heaven you must pray: you can’t get there by teaching the niggers.
We can’t go to school, and I’ll be damned if niggers shall.”

Volumes might be written, recounting the shameful outrages committed at
the South since the surrender of Lee. Not satisfied with murders of an
individual character, the Southerners have, of late, gone into it more
extensively. The first of these took place at Memphis, Tenn., May 4,
1866. A correspondent of Hon. W. D. Kelley, of Philadelphia, said,--

“I have been an eye-witness to such sights as should cause the age in
which we live to blush. Negro men have been shot down in cold blood on
the streets; barbers, at their chairs and in their own shops; draymen on
their drays, while attempting to earn an honest living; hotel-waiters,
while in the discharge of their duties; hackmen, while driving female
teachers of negro children to their schools; laborers, while handling
cotton on the wharves, &c. All the negro schoolhouses, and all the negro
churches, and many of the houses of the negroes, have been burned, this
too, under the immediate auspices of the city police and the mayor:
in fact, most of these outrages were committed by the police
themselves,--_all Irish, and all rebels, and mostly drunk_. This is not
the half: I have no heart to recount the outrages I have _seen_. The
most prominent citizens stand on the streets, and see negroes hunted
down and shot, and _laugh_ at it as a good joke. Attempts have been made
to fire every Government building, and fire has been set to many of the
abodes and business-places of Union people.

“There is no doubt but that there is a _secret_ organization sworn
to purge the city of all Northern men who are not _rebels_, all negro
teachers, all Yankee enterprise, and return the city ‘to the good old
days of Southern rule and chivalry.’

“When the miscreants had fired Collins’s chapel (a large frame church,
corner of Washington and Orleans Streets, which would now cost fully ten
thousand dollars, to rebuild), they stood around the fire which lighted
the midnight sky, and made the night hideous with their hellish cheers
for ‘Andy Johnson’ and a ‘white man’s government!’ And the supporters
of the President, aside from being midnight burners of churches and
schoolhouses, robbed women and children, and men,--sparing none on
account of age, sex, physical disabilities, or innocence of crime,--even
burning women and children alive.

“The board of aldermen had their usual meetings last night. Their
proceedings show no reference to the riot. No rewards have been
offered for the apprehension of the murderous assassins, thieves, and
house-burners.”

Next came, on a still larger scale, the rebel riot at New Orleans.
The Military Commission appointed to investigate the cause of the riot
charge it upon Mayor Monroe, Lieut.-Gov. Voorhies, and the rebel press
of the city. The Commission speak of the murders as follows:--

“They can only say that the work of massacre was pursued with a cowardly
ferocity unsurpassed in the annals of crime. Escaping negroes were
mercilessly pursued, shot, stabbed, and beaten to death by the mob
and police. Wounded men on the ground begging for mercy _were savagely
despatched_ by mob, police, firemen, and, incredible as it may seem,
in two instances by women; but, in two or three most honorable and
exceptionable cases, white men and members of the Convention were
protected by members of the police, both against the mob, and against
other policemen. The chief of police, by great exertions, defended in
this manner Gov. Hahn.

“After the attack had commenced, the police appeared to be under no
control as such; but acted as and with the mob. Their cheers and waving
of hats as they threw the mangled Dostie, then supposed a _corpse, like
a dead dog into the cart, sufficiently show their unison of feeling with
their allies_.”

Nothing, we take it, is more apparent from the array of evidence
presented in this Report than that the New-Orleans riot was a
preconcerted, deliberate, cold-blooded attempt to massacre the
Unionists, white and black, of that city. The design can be traced like
the development of a tragedy. Mayor Monroe is busy for a long time
in advance in stirring up the passions of the mob by stigmatizing the
members of the Convention as outlaws and revolutionists, threatening
them with wholesale arrest, and preparing his police for action. He
might have ascertained that the members had resolved to peacefully
submit the legality of their course to the proper tribunals; but he had
bloodier ends in view. He knew that the excitement he had fanned would
surely lead to an outburst of violence, unless restrained by two forces
alone,--his police and the United-States troops. To keep the latter
away, Mayor Monroe suppresses all requisition for them until it is too
late; and then tries to cover up his conduct with downright falsehood
and perjury. His police, instead of being brought forward openly, so
that they would have to take sides for the preservation of order, are
concealed in hiding-places till the collision occurs; when they rush
forth as allies of the mob, murdering negroes in cold blood; firing
repeatedly into the Convention, even after a white flag is raised;
shooting and barbarously maltreating the wounded; and perpetrating such
feats of cowardly brutality and ferocity as were never before seen
in this country, except in the congenial affairs of Memphis and Fort
Pillow.

Nothing goes so far towards reconciling one to what is called the
“total-depravity” theory, as the contemplation of those scenes of blood.
They carry us back to the crimes and cruelty of the Massacre of
St. Bartholomew. Mayor Monroe acts the part of the Duke of Guise;
Lieut.-Gov. Voorhies, that of the Duke of Alva; while President Johnson
acts the part of Charles IX., who, on approaching the burning corpse of
Admiral Coligny, exclaimed, “The smell of a dead enemy is always good.”

During the mob, the appearance of rebel organizations on the ground with
marks and badges, and scores of similar incidents, show that the plot
was as deliberate as it was infernal.

Again: a dispassionate consideration of the facts detailed by the
Commission will lead to the conclusion that the underlying cause of the
New-Orleans massacre was the old virus of slavery, still existing in
the passions of Southern society, and likely to issue forth in violence
whenever it shall be favored by similar circumstances. The members of
the Louisiana Convention were entirely harmless, no matter how obnoxious
or how indiscreet they were. Even if they were not disposed to submit
their pretensions to a legal test,--as they were,--there would have
been no difficulty in making their peaceable arrest on the occurrence
of their first overt act; but the mob of New Orleans, who, by the
acquiescence of the better classes, or else in defiance of them
through their great numerical preponderance, elect and control the
city authorities, were determined to permit no such result of the
controversy. The Convention claimed to exercise free speech; they would
have none of that Northern innovation: it was composed of Union men; and
they should be made to feel their place in “reconstructed” New Orleans:
worse than all, they had for their allies and supporters _colored_
Unionists; and _they_ should be made such an example of as should deter
any more such movements at the South. It was a bloody crusade against
the men and the principles that had triumphed in the Government of this
country. Well do this Commission say, that, but for martial law and the
United-States troops, “fire and bloodshed would have raged throughout
the night in all negro quarters of the city, and that the lives and
property of Unionists and Northern men would have been at the mercy of
the mob.” Finally: the Report throws an impressive light upon President
Johnson’s connection with the New-Orleans massacre. He had already, in
a manner, inculpated himself in his speech at St. Louis. He there
suppresses all the facts found by the Commission, and stigmatizes the
members of the Convention as “traitors,” engaged, under the instigation
of Congress, in getting up a “rebellion,” and therefore responsible for
all the bloodshed that occurred. That is precisely the pretence of Mayor
Monroe and his mob. Well might the President, therefore, play into their
hands. Gen. Baird, from official experience, has been taught not to
interfere with Mayor Monroe. When he telegraphs to Washington for
orders, he gets no answer: the other side telegraph, and receive replies
that encourage them in their course. Gen. Sheridan, like a true soldier,
telegraphs the facts, with indignant comments; and his despatches are
garbled for public effect. Of all the murderers on that dreadful day,
not one has been called to account; nor has any one of them received
therefor the least censure of the Government at Washington.

The appointment, since the riot, of Adams, one of the most notorious of
the rioters, as sergeant in the police force, by Mayor Monroe, confirms
the fact of his guilt in the massacre. The blood of the martyrs Dostie
and Horton cries to Heaven for justice for the Union men of the South,
white and black. The mob, composed of ex-rebel soldiers and citizens,
that broke up the colored campmeeting near Baltimore, Md., a few weeks
after the New-Orleans riot, was only a part of the programme concocted
by the men engaged in carrying out the reconstruction policy of Andrew
Johnson.



CHAPTER XLIII--PROTECTION FOR THE COLORED PEOPLE.


_Protection for the Colored People South.--The Civil Rights
Bill.--Liberty without the Ballot no Boon.--Impartial Suffrage.--Test
Oaths not to be depended upon._


In attempting to form a Southern Confederacy, with slavery as
its corner-stone, by breaking up the Union, and repudiating the
Constitution, the people of the South compelled the National Government
to abolish chattel slavery in self-defence. The protection, defence, and
support which self-interest induced the master to extend to the slave
have been taken away by the emancipation of the latter. This, taken
in connection with the fact that the negroes, by assisting the Federal
authorities to put down the Rebellion, gained the hatred of their old
masters, placed the blacks throughout the South in a very bad position.
Now, what shall be done to protect these people from the abuse of their
former oppressors? The Civil Rights Bill passed by Congress is almost a
dead letter, and many of the rebel judges declare it unconstitutional.
The States having relapsed into the hands of the late slave-holders, and
they becoming the executioners of the law, the blacks cannot look
for justice at their hands. The negro must be placed in a position to
protect himself. How shall that be done? We answer, the only thing to
save him is the ballot. Liberty without equality is no boon. Talk not
of civil without political emancipation! It is the technical pleading of
the lawyer: it is not the enlarged view of the statesman. If a man has
no vote for the men and the measures which tax himself, his family, and
his property, and all which determine his reputation, that man is still
a slave.

We are told--what seems to be the common idea--that the elective
franchise is not a _right_, but a _privilege_. But is this true? We used
to think so; that is, we assented to it before we gave the subject any
special thought: but we do not think so now. We maintain, that in a
government like ours, a republican government, or government of
_the people_, the elective franchise, as it is called, is not a mere
privilege, but an actual and absolute _right_,--a right belonging, of
right, to every free man who has not forfeited that right by crime.
We in this country enjoy what is properly called self-government, and
self-government necessarily implies the _right to vote_,--the right to
_help to govern_, and to make the laws; and this, in a government like
ours, a government of the people, can only be done by or through the
elective franchise. We maintain that in self-government, or government
of the people, every man who is a free man and citizen has a right to
assist and take part in that government. This right inheres and belongs
to every man alike, to you and me, and every other man,--no matter what
the color of his skin,--if he be a free man and citizen, and helps to
support the government by paying taxes: it is one of the fundamental
principles of self-government and of a democratic or republican
government. But the elective franchise, the right to choose and elect
the men who are to fill the offices, and make the laws and execute them,
lies at the very bottom of such government. It is the first principle
and starting-point, and is as much implied in the very name and idea of
self-government, or _government of the people_, as any other principle,
right, or idea pertaining to such a government. Does any one doubt
this? Let him ask himself what constitutes a republican government, or
government of the people, and what is implied by such a government,
and he will soon see, that without the elective franchise, or right to
choose rulers and law-makers, there can be no such government. It
will not do, therefore, to call this right a privilege. If it is but
a privilege, all may be deprived of its exercise. What sort of a
republican or self government would that be in which none of the people
were allowed to vote? But if it is but a privilege, and granted to but a
class or part, it may be restricted to a still smaller part, and finally
allowed to none!

Any proposal to submit the question of the political or civil rights of
the negroes to the arbitrament of the whites is as unjust and as absurd
as to submit the question of the political rights of the whites to the
arbitrament of the negroes, with this difference,--that the negroes are
loyal everywhere, and the great body of the whites disloyal everywhere.

A white loyalist of the South, one who remained loyal during the whole
of the Rebellion, says,--

“To permit the whites to disfranchise the negroes is to permit those who
have been our enemies to ostracize our friends. The negroes are the only
persons in those States who have not been in arms against us. They
have not been in arms against us. They have always and everywhere been
friendly, and not hostile, to us. They alone have a deep interest in the
continued supremacy of the United States; for their freedom depends on
it. On them alone can we depend to suppress a new insurrection. They
alone will be inclined to vote for the friends of the Government in all
the Southern States. They alone have sheltered, fed, and pioneered our
starved and hunted brethren through the swamps and woods of the South,
in their flight from those who now aspire to rule them.

“The _shame and folly of deserting the negroes_ are equalled by the
_wisdom of recognizing and protecting their power_. They will form a
clear and controlling majority against the united white vote in South
Carolina. Mississippi, and Louisiana. With a very small accession from
the loyal whites, they will form a majority in Alabama, Georgia, and
Virginia. Unaided in all those States, they will be a majority in many
congressional and legislative districts; and that alone suffices to
break the terrible and menacing unity of the Southern vote in Congress.”

It is said that the slaves are too ignorant to exercise the elective
franchise judiciously. To this we reply, they are as intelligent as the
average of “poor whites,” and were intelligent enough to be Unionists
during the great struggle, when the Federal Government needed friends.
In a conflict with the spirit of rebellion, the blacks can always be
depended upon, the whites cannot; and, for its own security against
future outbreaks, the National Government should see that the negro is
placed where he can help himself, and assist it.

The ballot will secure for the colored people respect; that respect
will be a protection for their schools; and, through education and the
elective franchise, the negro is to rise to a common level of humanity
in the Southern States.

But little aid can be expected for the freedmen from the Freedmen’s
Bureau; for its officers, if not Southern men, will soon become upon
intimate terms with the former slave-holders, and the Bureau will be
converted into a power of oppression, instead of a protection.

The anti-Union whites know full well the great influence of the ballot,
and therefore are afraid to give it to the blacks. The franchise will be
of more service to this despised race than a standing army in the South.
The ballot will be his standing army. The poet has truly said,--

               “There is a weapon surer yet,

                   And better, than the bayonet;

               A weapon that comes down as still

                   As snow-flakes fall upon the sod,

               And executes a freeman’s will

                   As lightning does the will of God;

                   A weapon that no bolts nor locks

                   Can bar. It is the ballot-box.”

Even “The New-York Herald,” some time ago, went so far as to say,--

“We would give the suffrage at once to four classes of Southern negroes.
First, and emphatically, to every negro who has borne arms in the cause
of the United States; second, to every negro who owns real estate;
third, to every negro who can read and write; and, fourth, to every
negro that had belonged to any religious organization or church for five
years before the war. These points would cover every one that ought to
vote; and they would insure in every negro voter a spirit of manhood as
well as discipline, some practical shrewdness, intellectual development,
and moral consciousness and culture.”

Impartial suffrage is what we demand for the colored people of the
Southern States. No matter whether the basis be a property or an
educational qualification, let it be impartial: upon this depends the
future happiness of all classes at the South. Test-oaths, or promises to
support the laws, mean nothing with those who have come up through the
school of slavery.

“As for oaths, the rebels, whose whole career has been a violation of
the solemn obligations of which oaths are merely the sign, care no more
for them than did the rattlesnake to which our soldiers in West Virginia
once administered the oath of allegiance. Impartial suffrage affords
the only sure and permanent means of combating the rebel element in the
Southern States.”



CHAPTER XLIV--CASTE.


_Slavery the Foundation of Caste.--Black its Preference.--The General
Wish for Black Hair and Eyes.--No Hatred to Color.--The White Slave.--A
Mistake.--Stole his Thunder.--The Burman.--Pew for Sale._


Caste is usually found to exist in communities or countries among
majorities, and against minorities. The basis of it is owing to some
supposed inferiority or degradation attached to the hated ones. However,
nothing is more foolish than this prejudice. But the silliest of all
caste is that which is founded on _color_; for those who entertain it
have not a single logical reason to offer in its defence.

The fact is, slavery has been the cause of all the prejudice against the
negro. Wherever the blacks are ill treated on account of their color, it
is because of their identity with a race that has long worn the chain
of slavery. Is there any thing in black, that it should be hated? If so,
why do we see so much black in common use as clothing among all classes?
Indeed, black is preferred to either white or colors. How often the
young man speaks in ecstasies of the black eyes and black hair of his
lady-love! Look at the hundreds of advertised hair-dyes, used for the
purpose of changing nature! See men with their gray beards dyed black;
women with those beautiful black locks, which, but yesterday, were as
white as the driven snow! Not only this, but even those with light
or red whiskers run to the dye-kettle, steal a color which nature has
refused them, and, an hour after, curse the negro for a complexion that
is not stolen. If black is so hateful, why do not gentlemen have their
boots whitewashed? If the slaves of the South had been white, the same
prejudice would have existed against them. Look at the “poor white
trash,” as the lower class of whites in the Southern States are termed.

Henry Clay would much rather have spent an evening with his servant
Charles than to have made a companion of one of his poor white
neighbors. It is the condition, not the color, that is so hateful.

“When the Britons first became known to the Tyrian mariners,” says
Macaulay, “they were little superior to the Sandwich Islanders.” Cæsar,
writing home from Britain, said, “They are the most ignorant people
I ever conquered.” Many of the Britons, after their conquest by the
Romans, were sent as slaves to Rome. Cicero, writing to his friend
Atticus, advised him not to buy slaves from England; “because,” said he,
“they cannot be taught to read, and are the ugliest and most stupid
race I ever saw.” These writers created a prejudice against the Britons,
which caused them to be sold very cheap in Rome, where they were seen
for years with brass collars on, containing their owner’s name. The
prejudice against the American negro is not worse today than that which
existed against the Britons. But, as soon as the condition of the poor,
ill-treated, and enslaved Britons was changed, the caste disappears.

Twenty-five years ago, a slave escaped from Tennessee, and came to
Buffalo, N.Y. He was as fair as the majority of whites, and, having been
a house-servant, his manners and language were not bad. His name was
Green. It was said that he had helped himself to some of his master’s
funds before leaving. For more than a month he had boarded at the
American, the finest hotel in the city, where he sat at table with
the boarders, and occupied the parlors in common with the rest of the
inmates.

Mr. Green passed for a Southern gentleman, sported a gold watch,
smoked his Havanas, and rode out occasionally. He was soon a favorite,
especially with the daughters of Col. D--------. Unfortunately for Mr.
Green, one day, as he was taking his seat at the dinner-table, he found
himself in front of one of his master’s neighbors, who recognized him.
The Southerner sent for the landlord, with whom he had a few moments’
conversation, after which mine host approached the boarder, and said,
“We don’t allow niggers at the table here: get up. You must wait till
the servants eat.” Mr. Green was driven from the table, not on account
of his color, but his condition. Under the old reign of slavery, it not
unfrequently occurred that the master’s acknowledged sons or daughters
were of a much darker complexion than some of the slave children.

On one occasion, after my old master had returned home from the
Legislature (of which he was a member), he had many new visitors. One of
these, a Major Moore, called in my master’s absence. The major had never
been to our place before, and therefore we were all strangers to him.
The servant showed the visitor into the parlor, and the mistress soon
after came in, and to whom the major introduced himself. I was at that
time about ten years old, and was as white as most white boys. Whenever
visitors came to the house, it was my part of the programme, to dress
myself in a neat suit, kept for such times, and go into the room, and
stand behind the lady’s chair. As I entered the room on this occasion,
I had to pass near by the major to reach the mistress. As I passed him,
mistaking me for the son, he put out his hand, and said, “How do you
do, bub?” And, before any answer could be given, he continued, “Madam,
I would have known your son if I had met him in Mexico; for he looks
so much like his papa.” The lady’s face reddened up, and she replied,
“That’s one of the niggers, sir;” and told me to go to the kitchen.

On my master’s return home, I heard him and the major talking the matter
over in the absence of the mistress. “I came near playing the devil here
to-day, colonel,” said the major.--“In what way?” inquired the former.
“It is always my custom,” said the latter, “to make fond of the children
where I visit; for it pleases the mammas. So, to-day, one of your little
niggers came into the room, and I spoke to him, reminding the madam
how much he resembled you.”--“Ha, ha, ha!” exclaimed the colonel, and
continued, “you did not miss it much by calling him my son. Ha, ha, ha!”

An incident of a rather amusing character took place on Cayuga Lake some
years ago. I had but recently returned from England, where I had never
been unpleasantly reminded of my color, when I was called to visit the
pretty little city of Ithaca. On my return, I came down the lake in
the steamer which leaves early in the morning. When the bell rang for
breakfast, I went to the table, where I found some twenty or thirty
persons. I had scarcely taken my seat, when a rather snobby-appearing
man, of dark complexion, looking as if a South-Carolina or Georgia sun
had tanned him, began rubbing his hands, and, turning up his nose,
called the steward, and said to him, “Is it the custom on this boat to
put niggers at the table with white people?” The servant stood for a
moment, as if uncertain what reply to make, when the passenger
continued, “Go tell the captain that I want him.” Away went the steward.
I had been too often insulted on account of my connection with the
slave, not to know for what the captain was wanted. However, as I was
hungry, I commenced helping myself to what I saw before me, yet keeping
an eye to the door, through which the captain was soon to make his
appearance. As the steward returned, and I heard the heavy boots of the
commander on the stairs, a happy thought struck me; and I eagerly
watched for the coming-in of the officer.

A moment more, and a strong voice called out, “Who wants me?”

I answered at once, “I, sir.”

“What do you wish?” asked the captain.

“I want you to take this man from the table,” said I. At this unexpected
turn of the affair, the whole cabin broke out into roars of laughter;
while my rival on the opposite side of the table seemed bursting with
rage. The captain, who had joined in the merriment, said,--

“Why do you want him taken from the table?”

“Is it your custom, captain,” said I, “to let niggers sit at table with
white folks on your boat?”

This question, together with the fact that the other passenger had sent
for the officer, and that I had “stolen his thunder,” appeared to please
the company very much, who gave themselves up to laughter; while
the Southern-looking man left the cabin with the exclamation, “_Damn
fools!_”

Nothing is more ridiculous than the legal decision in the States of
Ohio and Michigan, that a man containing not more than one-sixteenth of
African blood in his veins shall be considered a white man, and, upon
the-above basis, shall enjoy the elective franchise.

We know of a family in Cincinnati, with three brothers, the youngest of
whom is very fair, and who, under the above rule, is a voter; while the
other two brothers are too dark to exercise the suffrage. Now, it so
happens that the voting brother is ignorant and shiftless, while the
others are splendid scholars. Where there is a great difference in the
complexion of the husband and wife, there is generally a much greater
difference in the color of the children; and this picking out the sons,
on account of their fair complexion, seems cruel in the extreme, as
it creates a jealous feeling in the family. While visiting my friend
William Still, Esq., in Philadelphia, some time since, I was much amused
at seeing his little daughter, a child of eight or nine years, and her
cousin, entering the omnibus which passed the door, going towards their
school. Colored persons were not allowed to ride in those conveyances;
and one of the girls, being very fair, would pay the fare for both;
while the dark-complexioned one would keep her face veiled. Thus the
two children daily passed unmolested from their homes to the school,
and returned. I was informed that once while I was there the veil
unfortunately was lifted, the dark face seen, and the child turned out
of the coach. How foolish that one’s ride on a stormy day should depend
entirely on a black veil!

“Colorphobia, which has hitherto been directed against ‘American
citizens of African descent,’ has broken out in a new direction. Mong
Chan Loo is a Burman who recently graduated at Lewisburg University,
Penn., and has since been studying medicine, preparatory to returning to
Asia as a missionary. He is quite dark, but has straight hair, and is
a gentlemen of much cultivation. The other day, he took passage on the
Muskingum-river packet, ‘J. H. Bert,’ and, when the supper-bell rang,
was about to seat himself at the table. The captain prevented him,
informing him that, by the rules of the boat, colored persons must eat
separately from the whites. He grew indignant at this, refused to eat
on the boat at all, and, on arriving at Marietta, sued the owners of the
boat for five thousand dollars damages for ‘mental and bodily anguish
suffered.’ The case is a novel one; and its decision will perhaps
involve the question, whether Africans alone, or Asiatics, and, perhaps,
all dark-complexioned people, are included in the designation ‘colored.’
If the more sweeping definition prevails, brunettes will have to be
provided with legally-attested pedigrees to secure for themselves
seats at the first table and other Caucasian privileges.”--_Cincinnati
Gazette._

“The Dunkards, a peculiar religious society, numerous in some of the
Western States, at their recent annual meeting discussed the question,
‘Shall we receive colored persons into the church? and shall we salute
them with the holy kiss?’ It was decided that they should be received
into the church, but that all the members were to be left to their own
choice and taste in regard to saluting their colored brethren, with
the understanding, however, that all who refused to do so were to be
regarded as weak.”

In the year 1844, I visited a town in the State of Ohio, where a radical
abolitionist informed me that he owned a pew in the village church,
but had not attended worship there for years, owing to the proslavery
character of the preacher.

“Why don’t you sell your pew?” I inquired.

“I offered to sell it, last week, to a man, for ten dollars’ worth of
manure for my garden,” said he; “but the farmer, who happens to be one
of the pillars of the church, wants it for five dollars.”

“What did it cost?” I inquired.

“Fifty dollars,” was the reply.

“Are they very proslavery, the congregation?” I asked.

“Yes: they hate a black man worse than _pizen_,” said he.

“Have you any colored family in your neighborhood?” I inquired.

“We have,” said he, “a family about, four miles from here.”

“Are they very black?” I asked.

“Yes: as black as tar,” said he.

“Now,” said I, “my friend, I can put you in the way of selling your pew,
and for its worth, or near what it cost you.”

“If you can, I’ll give you half I get,” he replied.

“Get that colored family, every one of them, take them to church, don’t
miss a single Sunday; and, my word for it, in less than four weeks,
they, the church-folks, will make you an offer,” said I.

An arrangement was made with Mr. Spencer, the black man, by which
himself, wife, and two sons, were to attend church four successive
Sabbaths; for which, they were to receive in payment a hog. The
following Sunday, Mason’s pew was the centre of attraction. From the
moment that the Spencer Family arrived at the church, till the close of
the afternoon service, the eyes of the entire congregation were turned
towards “the niggers.” Early on Monday, Mr. Mason was called upon by the
“pillar,” who said, “I’ve concluded to give you ten dollars’ worth of
manure for your pew, Mr. Mason.”

“I can’t sell it for that,” was the reply. “I ask fifty dollars for my
pew; and I guess Mr. Spencer will take it, if he likes the preaching,”
 continued the abolitionist.

“What!” said the ‘pillar,’ “does that nigger want the pew?”

“He’ll take it if the preaching suits him,” returned Mason.

The churchman left with a flea in his ear. The second Sunday, the blacks
were all on hand to hear the lining of the first hymn. The news of the
pew being occupied by the negroes on the previous occasion had spread
far and wide, and an increase of audience was the result. The clergyman
preached a real negro-hating sermon, apparently prepared for the express
purpose of driving the blacks away. However, this failed; for the
obnoxious persons were present in the afternoon. Mr. Mason was called
upon on Monday by another weighty member, who inquired if the pew was
for sale, and its price.

“Fifty dollars,” was the reply.

“I’ll give you twenty-five dollars,” said the member.

“Fifty dollars, and nothing less,” was Mason’s answer.

The weighty member left, without purchasing the pew. Being on a
lecturing tour in the vicinity, I ran into town, occasionally, to see
how the matter progressed; for I had an eye to one-half of the proceeds
of the sale of the pew.

During the week, Spencer came, complained of the preaching, saying that
his wife could not and would not stand it, and would refuse to attend
again: whereupon, I went over, through a dreary rain, and promised the
wife a shilling calico-dress if she would fulfil the agreement. This
overcame her objections. I also arranged that two colored children of
another family, near by, should be borrowed for the coming Sunday. Mason
was asked how the Spencers liked the preaching. He replied that the
blacks were well pleased, and especially with the last sermon, alluding
to the negro-hating discourse.

The following Sunday found Mason’s pew filled to overflowing; for the
two additional ones had left no space unoccupied. That Sunday did the
work completely; for the two borrowed boys added interest to the scene
by taking different courses. One was tumbling about over the laps of the
older persons in the pew, attracting rather more attention than was due
him, and occasionally asking for “bed and butter;” while the smaller one
slept, and snored loud enough to be heard several pews away. On Monday
morning following, Mr. Mason was called upon. The pew was sold for fifty
dollars cash. I received my portion of the funds, and gave Spencer’s
wife the calico gown. Mason called in the few hated radicals, and we had
a general good time.

During the same lecturing tour, I was called to visit the village of
Republic, some thirty miles from Sandusky.

On taking a seat in one of the cars where other passengers had seated
themselves, I was ordered out, with the remark, that “Niggers ain’t
allowed in here.” Refusing to leave the car, two athletic men, employed
by the road, came in at the bidding of the conductor, and, taking me by
the collar, dragged me out.

“Where shall I ride?” I asked. “Where you please; but not in these
cars,” was the reply. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have
declined going by the train. But I had an appointment, and must go. As
the signal for starting was given, I reluctantly mounted a flour-barrel
in the open freight-car attached to the train, and away we went through
the woods.

From my position, I had a very good view of the passengers in the
nearest car, and must confess that they did not appear to be the most
refined individuals. The majority looked like farmers. There were some
drovers, one of whom, with his dog at his feet, sat at the end window:
the animal occasionally got upon the seat by the side of its master,
when the latter would take him by the ears, and pull him off. The drover
seemed to say to me, as he eyed me sitting on the barrel in the hot sun,
“You can’t come where my dog is.” At the first stopping-place, a dozen
or more laboring-men, employed in repairing the road, got on the
train with their pickaxes and shovels. They, too, took seats in a
passenger-car. I had a copy of Pope’s poems, and was trying to read “The
Essay on Man;” but almost failed, on account of the severity of the sun.
However, a gentleman in the car, seeing my condition, took pity on me,
and, at the next stopping-place, kindly lent me his umbrella; which was
no sooner hoisted than it drew the attention of the drover at one of the
end windows, and some of the Irishmen at the other, who set up a jolly
laugh at my expense. Up to this time, the conductor had not called on
me for my ticket; but, as the train was nearing the place of my
destination, he climbed upon the car, came to me, and, holding out his
hand, said, “I’ll take your ticket, sir. “I have none,” said I. “Then,
I’ll take your fare,” continued he, still holding ont his hand. “How
much is it?” I inquired. “A dollar and a quarter,” he replied. “How
much do you charge those in the passenger-car?”--“The same,” was
the response. “Do you think that I will pay as much as those having
comfortable seats? No, sir. I shall do no such thing,” said I. “Then,”
 said the conductor, “you must get off.”--“Stop your train, and I’ll get
off,” I replied. “Do you think I’ll stop these cars for you?”

“Well,” said I, “you can do as you please. I will not pay full fare, and
ride on a flour-barrel in the hot sun.”--“Since you make so much fuss
about it, give me a dollar, and you may go,” said the conductor. “I’ll
do no such thing,” I replied. “Why? Don’t you wish to pay your fare?”
 asked he. “Yes,” I replied. “I will pay what’s right; but I’ll not pay
you a dollar for riding on a flour-barrel in the hot sun.”--“Then, since
you feel so terribly bad about it, give me seventy-five cents, and I’ll
say no more about it,” said the officer. “No, sir: I shall not do it,”
 said I. “What do you mean to pay?” asked he. “How much do you charge per
hundred for freight?” I asked. “Twenty-five cents per hundred,” answered
the conductor. “Then I’ll pay thirty-seven and a-half cents,” said I;
“for I weigh one hundred and fifty pounds.” The astonished man eyed me
from head to feet; while the drover and the Irish laborers, who were
piled up at each window of the passenger-car, appeared not a little
amused at what they supposed to be a muss between the conductor and me.

Finally, the officer took a blank account out of his pocket, and
said, “Give me thirty-seven and a-half cents, and I’ll set you down as
freight.” I paid over the money, and saw myself duly put among the other
goods in the freight-car.

A New-York journal is responsible for the following:--

“It is not many months since a colored man came to this city from
abroad. A New-York merchant had been in business connection with him for
several years; and from that business connection had realized a fortune,
and felt that he must treat him kindly. When Sunday came, he invited him
to go to church with him. He went; and the merchant took him into his
own pew, near the pulpit, in a fashionable church. There was a prominent
member of the church near the merchant, who saw this with great
amazement. He could not be mistaken: it was a genuine ‘nigger,’ and not
a counterfeit. Midway in his sermon, the minister discovered him, and
was so confused by it, that he lost his place, and almost broke down.

“After service, the man who sat near the merchant went to him, and in
great indignation asked,--

“What does this mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“That you should bring a nigger into this church?”

“It is my pew.”

“Your pew, is it? And, because it is your pew, you must insult the whole
congregation!”

“He is intelligent and well educated,” answered the merchant.

“What do I care for that? He is a nigger!”

“But he is a friend of mine.”

“What of that? Must you therefore insult the whole congregation?”

“But he is a Christian, and belongs to the same denomination.”

“What do I care for that? Let him worship with his nigger Christians.”

“But he is worth five million dollars,” said the merchant.

“Worth what?”

“Worth five million dollars.”

“For God’s sake introduce me to him,” was the reply.



CHAPTER XLV--SIXTH REGIMENT UNITED-STATES VOLUNTEERS.


_Organization of the Regiment.--Assigned to Hard Work.--Brought
under Fire.--Its Bravery.--Battle before Richmond.--Gallantry of the
Sixth.--Officers’ Testimony._


The following sketch of the Sixth Regiment United-States colored troops
was kindly furnished by a gentleman of Philadelphia, but came too late
to appear in its proper place.

The Sixth Regiment United-States colored troops was the second which was
organized at Camp William Penn, near Philadelphia, by Lieut.-Col. Louis
Wagner, of the Eighty-eighth Pennsylvania Volunteers. The regiment left
Philadelphia on the 14th of October, 1863, with nearly eight hundred
men, and a full complement of officers, a large majority of whom had
been in active service in the field.

The regiment reported to Major-Gen. B. F. Butler, at Fortress Monroe,
and were assigned to duty at York-town, Va., and became part of the
brigade (afterwards so favorably known), under the command of Col. S. A.
Duncan, Fourth United-States colored troops. Here they labored upon the
fortifications, and became thoroughly disciplined under the tuition of
their colonel, John W. Ames, formerly captain of the Eleventh Infantry,
United-States Army, ably seconded by Lieut.-Col. Royce and Major Kiddoo.
During the winter, the regiment took a prominent part in the several
raids made in the direction of Richmond, and exhibited qualities that
elicited the praise of their officers, and showed that they could be
fully relied upon in more dangerous work.

The regiment was ordered to Camp Hamilton, Virginia, in May, 1864; where
a division of colored troops was formed, and placed under the command
of Brig.-Gen. Hinks. In the expedition made up the James River the same
month, under Gen. Butler, this division took part. The white troops were
landed at Bermuda Hundreds. Three regiments of colored men were posted
at various points along the river. Duncan’s brigade landed at City
Point, where they immediately commenced fortifications. The Sixth and
Fourth Regiments were soon after removed to Spring Hill, within
five miles of Petersburg. Here they labored night and day upon those
earthworks, which were soon to be the scene of action which was to
become historical. The Sixth was in a short time left alone, by the
removal of the Fourth Regiment to another point.

On the 29th of May, the rebel forces made an assault on the picket-line,
the enemy soon after attacking in strong force, but were unable to drive
back the picketline any considerable distance. The Fourth Regiment was
ordered to the assistance of the Sixth; but our forces were entirely too
weak to make it feasible or prudent to attack the enemy, who withdrew
during the night, having accomplished nothing.

This was the first experience of the men under actual fire, and they
behaved finely. When the outer works around Petersburg were attacked,
June 15, Duncan’s brigade met the rebels, and did good service, driving
the enemy before him. We had a number killed and wounded in this
engagement. The rebels sought shelter in their main works, which were
of the most formidable character. These defences had been erected by the
labor of slaves, detailed for the purpose. Our forces followed them to
their stronghold. The white troops occupied the right; and in order to
attract the attention of the enemy, while these troops were manoeuvring
for a favorable attacking position, the colored soldiers were subject to
a most galling fire for several hours, losing a number of officers and
men. Towards night, the fight commenced in earnest by the troops on the
right, who quickly cleared their portion of the line: this was followed
by the immediate advance of the colored troops, the Fourth, Fifth,
Sixth, and Twenty-second Regiments. In a very short time, the rebels
were driven from the whole line; these regiments capturing seven pieces
of artillery, and a number of prisoners. For their gallantry in this
action, the colored troops received a highly complimentary notice from
Gen. W. H. Smith, in General Orders.

A few hours after entering the rebel works, our soldiers were gladdened
by a sight of the veterans of the Army of the Potomac, who that night
relieved our men at the front. A glance at the strong works gave the
new-comers a better opinion of the fighting qualities of the negroes
than they had calculated upon; and a good feeling was at once
established, that rapidly dispelled most of the prejudices then existing
against the blacks; and from that time to the close of the war the negro
soldier stood high with the white troops.

After spending some time at the Bermuda Hundreds, the Sixth Regiment was
ordered to Dutch Gap, Va., where, on the 16th of August, they assisted
in driving the rebels from Signal Hill; Gen. Butler, in person, leading
our troops. The Sixth Regiment contributed its share towards completing
Butler’s famous canal, during which time they were often very much
annoyed by the rebel shells thrown amongst them. The conduct of the men
throughout these trying scenes reflected great credit upon them. On
the 29th of September, the regiment occupied the advance in the
demonstration made by Butler that day upon Richmond. The first line of
battle was formed by the Fourth and Sixth Regiments: the latter entered
the fight with three hundred and fifteen men, including nineteen
officers.

The enemy were driven back from within two miles of Deep Bottom, to
their works at New-Market Heights: the Sixth was compelled to cross a
small creek, and then an open field. They were met by a fearful fire
from the rebel works, men fell by scores: still the regiment went
forward. The color-bearers, one after another, were killed or wounded,
until the entire color-guard were swept from the field. Two hundred and
nine men, and fourteen officers, were killed and wounded. Few fields of
battle showed greater slaughter than this; and in no conflict did both
officers and men prove themselves more brave. Capts. York and Sheldon
and Lieut. Meyer were killed close to the rebel works. Leuts. Pratt,
Landon, and McEvoy subsequently died of the wounds received. Lieut.
Charles Fields, Company A, was killed on the skirmish line: this
left the company in charge of the first sergeant, Richard Carter, of
Philadelphia, who kept it in its advanced position throughout the day,
commanding with courage and great ability, attracting marked attention
for his officer-like bearing. During the battle many instances of
unsurpassed bravery were shown by the common soldier, which proved that
these heroic men were fighting for the freedom of their race, and the
restoration of a Union that should protect man in his liberty without
regard to color. No regiment did more towards extinguishing prejudice
against the negro than the patriotic Sixth.

               “And thus are Afric’s injured sons

                   The oppressor’s scorn abating,

               And to the world’s admiring gaze

                   Their manhood vindicating.”

The writer regrets that he cannot remember all those whose good conduct
in this our last battle deserves honorable mention. It may not, however,
be invidious to mention the names remembered. These are, Sergt.-Major
Hawkins, Sergt. Jackson, Company B (since deceased); Sergts. Ellesberry,
Kelley, Terry, and Carter All of these, as well as a number of others,
were capable of filling positions as commissioned officers.

Several of the enlisted men received medals for gallantry, and were
mentioned in General Orders by Major-Gen. Butler. The works which the
Sixth Regiment attempted to take at such fearful cost of life were in
a short time taken at the point of the bayonet by another brigade
of colored troops. Had these latter been present to aid in the first
attack, it would have saved many valuable lives; for the force was
entirely too weak for the object. When the Sixth Regiment was finally
paid off at Philadelphia, at the close of the Rebellion, the officers
held a farewell meeting at the Continental Hotel; and the following
resolutions were adopted as expressive of their appreciation of the
conduct of the troops under their command:--

“1. _Resolved_, That, in our intercourse with them during the past two
years, they have shown themselves to be brave, reliable, and efficient
as soldiers; patient to endure, and prompt to execute.

“2. That, being satisfied with their conduct in the high position of
soldiers of the United States, we see no reason why they should not be
fully recognized as equals, honorable and responsible citizens of the
same.”

From the commencement of the enlistment of colored troops, to the
close of the war, there were engaged in active service one hundred and
sixty-nine-thousand six hundred and twenty-four colored men.





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