_The Negro's Complaint--John Brown's Raid--The Secession of the Southern
States--Battle of Milliken's Bend--Battle at Fort Hudson--The Effect of
the Emancipation Proclamation on this Nation and the Entire Christian
World._
As my indulgent readers would perhaps like to know the lines of "The
Negro's Complaint," which were sung so beautifully by the campaign glee
club that night at the great meeting at Buffalo, I will here insert
them. They were written by the Honorable William Cowper, of England, and
directed against British slavery in the West Indies, and the slave trade
generally. They apply with such force and truth to that self-same
blood-red crime as carried on by the United States that they are worthy
of being committed to memory by every true lover of poetry in the
English language throughout the world.
THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT.
Forced from home and all its pleasures,
Africa's coast I left forlorn,
To increase a stranger's treasures
O'er the raging billows borne.
Men from England bought and sold me,
Paid my price in paltry gold;
But, though theirs they have enrolled me,
Minds are never to be sold.
Still in thought as free as ever,
What are England's rights? I ask;
Me from delights to sever,
Me to torture, me to task?
Fleecy locks and dark complexion
Cannot forfeit nature's claim;
Skins may differ, but affection
Dwells in white and black the same.
Why did all-creating nature
Make the plant for which we toil?
Sighs must fan it--tears must water,
Sweat of ours must dress the soil.
Hark! Ye masters, iron-hearted,
Lolling at your jovial boards--
Think how many backs have smarted
For the sweets your cane affords!
Hark! He answers. Wild tornadoes
Strewing yonder seas with wrecks,
Wasting towns, plantations, meadows,
Are the voice with which he speaks;
He, foreseeing what vexations
Afric's sons should undergo,
Fixed their tyrant's habitations
Where his whirlwinds answer--No!
By our blood in Afric wasted,
Ere our necks received the chain,
By the miseries we have tasted
Crossing in your barks the main;
By our sufferings since ye brought us
To the man-degrading mart--
All, sustained by patience, taught us,
Only by a broken heart.
Count our nation brutes no longer,
Till some reason ye shall find
Worthier of regard, and stronger
Than the color of the kind;
Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings
Tarnish all your boasted powers,
Prove that ye have human feelings
Ere ye proudly question ours!
Time passed on, and Tom and I, and Mr. and Mrs. Sutherland, still
continued to occupy the same house. The Lord blessed the entire
household, and none of us had ever cause to regret the steps we had
taken and carried out with such speed. We enlisted heart and soul in the
grand anti-slavery movement, and blew the bellows with all our might to
help on the good cause of liberty and perfect freedom. The border
ruffians in Kansas had been beaten back into the South, which was the
first open fight between the two high contending parties. That put the
angry South in no good humor. Like an ungovernable, high-strung virago,
her temper was up, and she threatened secession, and dreamed of
extending a new slave empire around the Gulf of Mexico. The
abolitionists of the North were unyielding, and the two sections were
drifting into war.
In the midst of so much combustion and heated temper, it would have been
remarkable, indeed, if there had been no "flame" that burst out here or
there. In all impending struggles and revolutions there is always
someone who voices the pent-up feelings of one party or the other, and
sometimes of both. On the impulse of the moment, as it were by an act of
inspiration, somebody steps out of the ranks, and becomes the leader on
his side. The man who led the way on the part of the anti-slavery party,
was the famous John Brown, who figured so largely in Kansas, and in 1859
seized upon the United States Arsenal at Harper's Ferry, in Virginia,
while he was leading on a handful of white and colored men for the
purpose of effecting a general rising of the slaves throughout the
South. But the Virginians came pouring down upon him and his little
band. Some were killed and wounded; others were missing, and John Brown
himself and a few of his followers were hung. Still, John Brown was in
the right. He was simply an outgrowth of the times. He regarded the
slaves as prisoners, whom it was the duty of any man to set at liberty.
They or their forefathers, at least, had been taken captive in Africa,
and it--that is, American slavery--was the crying scandal of the entire
Christian world. John Brown was one of the abolitionists of the North,
and they were responsible for his actions. But the South was alarmed all
over its dark domain. From Mason and Dixon's Line to the Rio Grande the
news of John Brown's raid flew like wildfire, and the violent temper of
the South grew to a white heat. And all the world--both at home and
abroad--remarked,
"If one single spark like this can raise such a conflagration, what
shall we have when the anti-slavery party shall set their foot into the
whole 'business' on a grand scale? If one man at Harper's Ferry can
effect such a disturbance, what will ensue when the great overshadowing
North will arise in her might, and call for a settlement of the whole
question in favor of the oppressed African?"
The war, indeed, was now nearer than before. The South would listen to
no compromise nor reason of any kind. The haughty Southern lords would
brook no interference. The Northern intruders who touched her "peculiar
institution" touched "the apple of her eye." And now for war!
The war came at last, and South Carolina was the state that struck the
first blow. Then one state seceded after another, and they set up the
"Southern Confederacy," with slavery as its corner-stone. Then the
wildest and most tremendous excitement spread over all the great North,
and the interest reached even the ends of the earth. For the time being,
so great was the national delirium that the great masses of the
population seemed to have completely forgotten the glorious cause of
abolitionism, the grand doings of the underground railroad, and even the
eternal decree of the Most High God that one man should not own property
in another. But all the same the deep and thoughtful minds of all
thorough-going Christians all over the world could see that this war
should not close till every slave was set free. It was Pharaoh and the
captive Israelites over again, "Let my people go, that they may serve
me."
That which threw the great North into such a state of excitement and
alarm was not the slave question at all. The people were concerned over
the breaking up of this great united republic, because the establishment
of the Southern Confederacy cut the nation in two, and took away from us
the middle and lower Mississippi. If the hair is the glory of a woman,
as Paul says, the Mississippi river is the glory of the United States.
Uncle Sam, therefore, even yet did all he could to induce the seceded
states to come home again, and assured them in every possible way that
not a finger should be laid upon their slaves, but that they should keep
them all! But the haughty South had made up her mind to set up
house-keeping for herself, and she thought she could do so even if the
worst came to the worst. She had been getting ready for secession for
fifty years, and now the crisis had come.
There did not appear to be the slightest idea on either side that more
than four years would elapse before the dreadful business would be
settled. A call was made by President Lincoln for seventy-five thousand
men to serve for three months, but a far greater number offered
themselves. There were thousands, if not millions, of people who
believed that the small affair would be all over in a very little while,
and nothing was talked of but marching to Richmond, and winding things
up. Then the rebellious leaders would return to their duties, slavery
would go on as before, and the Mississippi river would once more flow
through our glorious republic--one and undivided, from the headwaters of
the same to the Gulf of Mexico.
It never seemed to enter the minds of the great masses of the people
then that the South was as terribly in earnest as she certainly was, nor
how well-trained she was and ready for the fray. The skill of her
leaders, the intrepidity of her sons, and fighting upon her own soil,
were lost sight of to a very great extent in the wild delirium that
seized on the great Northern heart over the breaking up of the Union. It
did not seem to strike the national mind at the time that this was a war
sent by God for the extirpation of slavery, and as an answer to the
prayers of the oppressed millions in the South for freedom, and for the
treatment of human beings. It did not then occur to the minds of the
North that a day would come after nearly two years' indecisive fighting,
when military necessity would compel the Federal government to free the
slave by Act of Congress, and call upon him "to come to the help of the
Lord against the mighty," and Shakespeare says, "There is a divinity
that shapes our ends, rough hew them as we will." and so it was even
now.
[Illustration: _BATTLE OF MILLIKEN'S BEND._]
I shall never forget that morning at Buffalo--it was in the month of
June, 1863, when the letter-carrier brought me the first war letter from
my gallant Tom. The date was not given, but it came from a place called
Milliken's Bend, on the Lower Mississippi river, and a battle had been
fought at that place, since called by the historians, "The Battle of
Milliken's Bend." But I will here insert Tom's letter in its entirety,
as there are some other things in it besides war and fighting.
"MILLIKEN'S BEND, June, 1863.
"My Dear Beulah:--No doubt but you have already received the letters I
sent you from New Orleans, after that I myself and the rest of the
Buffalonians had landed in the Crescent City. I send lots of warm love
to the entire family, and be sure to keep our two daughters, Ella and
Fannie, regularly at school. My best love to the church in a body. Tell
them to pray for us.
"I have great pleasure in informing you that we have here completely
settled the question whether colored men will not fight in America as
well as their ancestors did in Africa. On the night of the 6th of June,
about three thousand Texans came to our fortifications, and lay around
our five hundred colored soldiers, besides a hundred white ones. Those
three thousand rebels lay prowling around our men like so many cats,
only waiting for the dawn of the 7th of June to gobble us up like so
many poor, helpless mice. About three o'clock they came on with an awful
rush, shouting, 'No quarter for niggers and their officers!' They got
into our works, and the way that men fell on both sides was dreadful. It
was really awful the way my poor comrades were shot down, or killed with
the bayonet, though at the same time we mowed them down like grass
before the scythe. Those strong arms of ours that had made the South the
rich land that it lately was, now laid its defenders even with the
ground. There was hardly a single officer, either black or white, among
us who was not either killed or wounded. How I escaped myself without a
scratch is more than I can tell, where there were so very few who came
out of the battle as they went in. To God be all the praise!
"The gunboats Choctow and Lexington assisted us very much, for they kept
throwing shells into the enemy, and made them fly in all directions, and
even up into the air! The white men on our side--one hundred of
them--also fought like lions. One division of the rebels hesitated about
coming out of a redoubt they had got into their possession. They were
not willing. But our brave black soldiers went in with a rush, and
assisted them in making up their minds by taking the bayonet to them,
and thrashing them with the butt ends of their guns, precisely like
thrashing wheat! They reminded me of a lot of guilty cats when the dogs
are on them. Having suffered the loss of hundreds of men, and been
completely vanquished in the bargain, the rebels were forced to retreat,
and this they did with as good a grace as they were able.
"No doubt but the telegraph has already carried the news all over the
Union how our six hundred intrepid soldiers beat three thousand rebels.
This will settle, once for all, the insulting question, 'Will the black
man fight?' It will also secure for us more civil treatment from white
soldiers, both North and South, and remind them that the Great Creator
himself, and all foreign nations, make no difference whatsoever on
account of the color of the skin. I would like to know what 'Old Massa'
thinks of things now.
"I send my best love to all those who may enquire for me, and please
write soon to your most affectionate husband,
"Tuesday night, 9 o'clock.
"THOMAS LINCOLN."
War surely is a terrible thing at its best estate. Nations have often
waged war for mere conquest and ambition, which was the greatest crime
that ever could have been committed. But here was a war for freedom--the
freedom of millions of slaves. It was for this freedom that we had
prayed for the assistance of the Most High God, and troubled the
country, labored and toiled in all possible ways. It was for this
freedom that all the chivalrous Christianity of the nation had put forth
all its efforts; and now at times, many people began to doubt whether
all these efforts had not been put forth in vain, because for the first
two years of the war, our arms really made such small progress compared
with what we had expected. And yet, for the very life of me, I am to
this very day unable to see how we could have done much more than we
did; for though the Northern troops were as brave as men could be, we
had a foe to contend with who was quite as brave as ourselves--a foe
manned by officers as good as our own, and fighting upon their own soil,
where they knew every foot of the ground. Thus the war dragged slowly
along, and the close of the second year found us with very little
progress made.
We were not in despair, but the South yet retained all her strength, and
was proud and defiant. They were also determined to fight on, and did
fight on with a valor worthy of a better cause. But how could we expect
more success than we had under the circumstances? So great was the
prejudice against color that white men were even unwilling to fight side
by side with our own people; and then Lincoln and his cabinet were all
afraid of affronting the tender and delicate susceptibilities of the
South by putting even their little finger on the heinous institution
called "Domestic slavery." Verily, they were carrying their
squeamishness to a most tremendous length when lives had to be wasted in
thousands, because white men were too proud even to fight side by side
with colored men, and because we were so very timid about offending our
"separate brethren," that the Northern officers even sent back the
refugees from our armies--sent them back into slavery! And they even
allowed their life-long oppressors to come into the camps, look around
for their slaves, identify and claim their property, and carry them home
again before our very eyes! Was it any wonder, then, that we had so
little success in this war which God himself had sent, chiefly that the
slaves should be freed?
But the spectacle of thousands and tens of thousands of men being mowed
down like grass before the Southern scythes gradually changed all that.
The South, indeed, had a comfortable time of it, sending all their sons
to the war, whilst the black population were taking care of their
families, working their fields, and even throwing up intrenchments, and
making themselves useful in a thousand ways by command of their owners,
and against the forces of the North! Not that the slaves wished to work
in these ways for the South, but because our very armies were helping
their masters to keep them in their present position, even by returning
them to bondage whenever they tried to gain their freedom. The Southern
lords knew all about our "tender feelings" for their own
"property"--falsely so called--and they took advantage of it.
We had nobody but ourselves to blame for this state of things. Our men
were mown down in thousands because we had such tender regard for the
feelings of the rebels, and there was not the slightest sign that things
would ever get any better. We whipped the South to-day and they whipped
us to-morrow. In the meantime the strong, able-bodied African tilled the
fields of the South, when he might have been fighting for freedom and
the Union.
[Illustration: _BATTLE OF PORT HUDSON._]
But to return to the year 1863. Some changes had been made in the
rapidly-shifting scenes of the war. Tom had been removed from Milliken's
Bend, and gone to Port Hudson, where a most terrible assault had been
made on the rebel defences about the 23rd of May. But I will here let
Tom speak for himself, because he wrote to me often, and my greatest
pleasure was to sit down and send him all our domestic news.
"PORT HUDSON, on the Mississippi, July, 1863.
"My Dear Beulah:--I arrived at this place a few days ago, and have been
out to see signs and marks of the recent siege. Everything seems to
interest me, and war is indeed a terrible game. I have heard great and
full accounts of the awful fighting down in this place, much of which I
must reserve for your patient ears when I come, if God my life shall
spare.
"You could not find a white man in all the Mississippi Valley to-day who
will tell you that colored men wont fight. I don't know where such an
idea ever arose, because it was the strong arm and perseverance of the
slave in raising crops all over Dixie that created most of the wealth we
found in the South, and I look upon it as a wilful and malicious
falsehood in white soldiers, North and South alike, affirming over and
over again that colored men would not fight. General Grant and every
high officer in the Union army have given us most unstinted praise, and
have affirmed that we fight nobly.
"The accounts of the terrible fighting done here almost surpass human
belief. About the 23rd of May, the Northern armies invested this place,
and made a most tremendous effort to carry it by storm. The rebels had a
naturally strong position, and all the appliances of war at their
command. They had batteries and masked batteries, mortars, and, in
short, almost everything known for destruction and modern warfare. They
had even felled trees in our path, and their very cannon balls mowed
down trees three feet thick. The noise of their guns made more din and
uproar than the loudest thunderstorm. Against those brave and terrible
rebels white soldiers from the North and colored soldiers from Louisiana
advanced again and again, but all of them failed, and they were mown
down like grass before the scythe. O terrible, sanguinary war! It was
horrible! The balls and other missiles flew through the air thicker than
hailstones. Once more we terribly underrated the prowess of the South.
All of us were shipped alike, though we fought like gods! Oh, my dear
Beulah! This is the price the American nation is now paying for the
crime of slavery! The South carried out the villainy, and the North
winked at the whole devilish business, thus, in fact, helping the rebels
to keep on our claims! Shall a guilty nation indeed escape for deeds
like these? At all events, we proved one thing during that terrible
assault in May, and the subsequent siege of Port Hudson, and that was
that colored men are as much men as white men, red, brown, yellow or any
other race that can be named. These things were all well known before by
every man, woman and child, but then, 'None are so blind as those who
don't want to see.' The cry now is, 'Yes, yes! Colored men will fight
well.' It is some comfort to know all this, for now we can get a rest.
"I send a deal of love to yourself, the children, to Mr. and Mrs.
Sutherland, to the entire church on Vine street, and to all others. I
get all your letters.
"I am, my dear Beulah, your most loving
"THOMAS LINCOLN."
From the accounts contained in the two foregoing letters that I received
from my dear husband, my kind readers will see that it was a public
revelation made to the whole nation that the colored race not only made
first-rate soldiers, but that they were sorely needed by Uncle Sam in
the day of his distress. Lincoln's Proclamation on the first of January,
1863, completely broke down the dam from one end of the country to the
other and throughout the whole land. Now the patriotic governors and
many others bestirred themselves in raising colored regiments, getting
them drilled, and pushed to the front with rapidity, so that the tide of
war everywhere began to turn in favor of the Northern arms, and things
began to look as if the very God of Liberty Himself was smiling upon the
nation. Up to the end of 1862 the North had been fighting for nothing
more than the restoration of the Union, and surely this was a noble
thing to fight for, and especially for the possession of the glorious
Mississippi, flowing all the way from its remotest springs at its
farthest away branches in Montana, some 4,400 miles from the ocean. It
was indeed something to keep the great river and all the States one and
undivided. But what about slavery? Was it not, if possible, a ten times
greater sin to carry on slavery than for the Southern States to secede?
And yet there were thousands and tens of thousands of soldiers, officers
and citizens all over the land who made the most strenuous objections to
striking one blow for freedom--the very cause for which the war had been
sent! Who need wonder, indeed, that our arms had such small success for
almost two years after the rebels seceded? The only thing that surprises
me is that we had as much success as we did, but we were taught a
lesson, and we learned it well at last.
[Illustration: _JOHN BROWN._]
It was not long before the fame of the colored soldiers of America was
wafted over the whole world, and was everywhere received by all lovers
of freedom with most hearty applause. All, excepting those who believed
in keeping other people down, heard the news with the greatest of
pleasure. Many of the aristocrats of England, France and elsewhere, who
had made investments in Confederate bonds, and sympathized with the
South from the beginning, had no joy when they learned how Uncle Sam had
turned a new element of strength into the field; but the common people
everywhere all the world over, who had read "Uncle Tom's Cabin" in all
the principal languages of the earth, and opposed the recognition of the
Southern Confederacy from the first on account of slavery, rejoiced to
hear that the Great North had at last turned over a new leaf, and
brought the heroic sons of Africa into the field. It was a military
necessity, of course; the nation was forced to do it; but all the same
it was a matter of justice, and the right thing to do. Now the entire
Christian world took ten times more interest in the war than before.
They had been praying and often working in the interest of the American
slave; and now they were delighted to hear of the self-same slave
marching bravely to the field, and assisting white men in knocking the
fetters off the whole race. Now, indeed, the scales began to turn in
favor of the North, along the whole line. Before the first of January,
1863, it was as if there were eight pounds in the Northern scale, and
eight pounds in the Southern scale, but now we throw in 200,000 colored
men or more into the Northern scale, when the Southern end of the beam
flies up as the lighter weight, and it becomes clear to the obtusest
mind that the South is doomed, and domestic slavery with it also.