The Negro in The American Rebellion

“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.