BLACKS ENLISTED, AND IN BATTLE.
Attorney-General 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-General Thomas made his appearance in the valley of the
Mississippi. At Lake Providence, Louisiana, 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.
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-General 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-General 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.
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 first intimation that the commanding officer at Milliken’s Bend
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.
“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,”
said the colonel. “I can truly say,” continued he, “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 who had
cooked for me came and begged 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.
The next engagement which the blacks had, was up the St. Mary’s River,
South Carolina, under the command of Colonel T. W. Higginson. Here,
too, the colored men did themselves and their race great credit.
We now come to the battle of Port Hudson, in which the black forces
consisted of the First Louisiana, under Lieutenant-Colonel Bassett, and
the Third Louisiana, under Colonel 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
General 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 Captain André Callioux, a man whose identity
with his race could not be mistaken. 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. Captain 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? Colonel Nelson
being called to act as brigadier-general, Lieutenant-Colonel 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.
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. Lieutenant-Colonel Finnegas was then ordered to charge,
and in a well-dressed, steady line his men went on the double-quick
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. Colonel Nelson reported to General Dwight the
fearful odds he had to contend with. Says General Dwight, in reply,
“Tell Colonel Nelson I shall consider that he has accomplished nothing
unless he take those guns.” Humanity will never forgive General 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 standard-bearer,
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
blood-stained 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.
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, Captain 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, the order was given
to change the programme; and the troops were called off. But had they
accomplished anything 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
the admiration for André Callioux and his colored associates. General
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.”
The splendid behavior of the blacks in the valley of the Mississippi,
was soon equalled by the celebrated Fifty-fourth Massachusetts
Regiment, commanded by the lamented Robert G. Shaw.
On the sixteenth of July, the Fifty-fourth Regiment (colored),
Colonel R. G. Shaw, was attacked by the enemy, on James Island, in
which a fight of two hours’ duration took place, the Rebels largely
out-numbering 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, Colonel Shaw received
orders from General 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 General 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 “General 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 General Hunter left Cole Island for Folly Island at six A. M.; and
the troops landed at Pawnee Landing 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-General Strong’s quarters, about midway on the
Island, about six or six and a half o’clock, where they halted for five
minutes.
General 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. General 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 General Strong and by Colonel 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 Colonel 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.
Colonel 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 Colonel 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 Colonel 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 Sergeant 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.” Captain 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 inquiry was made at Fort Wagner, under flag of truce, for the body
of Colonel 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 place for burial, 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.
Shaw’s Regiment afterwards distinguished itself in the hard-fought
battle of Olustee, an engagement that will live in the history of the
Rebellion.
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 General C. Seymour, and consisted of the Seventh New Hampshire,
Seventh Connecticut, 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, 1864, 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 held 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. General
Seymour now came up, and pointing in front, towards the railroad, said
to Colonel 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.
Colonel 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 Captain 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 Lieutenant
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, Captain Bailey took command, and brought out the
regiment in good order. Sergeant 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 Colonel E. N. Hallowell, who fell wounded by the side of Colonel
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
everything, 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, Colonel James Montgomery, Colonel Hallowell, and
Lieutenant-Colonel 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); Lieutenant-Colonel
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, before wounded 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 rout, 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 Sergeant 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 Colonel 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, 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 Colonel 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:--
Colonel Hallowell 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, Helman, 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 Colonel 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.
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 wherever 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.
The battle of Poison Springs, Arkansas, 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.
Nothing in the history of the Rebellion equalled in inhumanity and
atrocity the horrid butchery at Fort Pillow, Kentucky, 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 startled the civilized foreign world,
as they awakened the indignation of our own people.
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 ran 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.
We now record an account of the battle of Honey Hill, South Carolina,
and one of the most famous engagements in which the blacks fought
during the war.
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 pinelands,
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 the 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-General J. G.
Foster, General John P. Hatch having the immediate command. The First
Brigade, under General 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 Colonel A. S. Hartwell, was composed of the Fifty-fourth
and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, and Twenty-sixth and Thirty-second
United States (colored). Colonel E. P. Hallowell, 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.
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.
The Thirty-second United States colored troops were ordered to charge
the rebel fort; 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 Colonel Hartwell. The fire became
very hot; but still the regiment did not waver, the line merely
quivered. Captain Goraud, of General Foster’s staff, whoso gallantry
was conspicuous all day, rode up just as Colonel Hartwell was wounded
in the hand, and advised him to retire; but the colonel declined.
Colonel 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.
Captain 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 Colonel 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 Colonel
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, Lieutenant Ellsworth, and one man of the Fifty-fifth
Massachusetts, came to the rescue of Colonel Hartwell, and in spite
of his remonstrance that they should leave him to his fate, 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 around, 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. Counter-charges 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
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 Lieutenant-Colonel 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.
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
Captain Crane, the Adjutant, is killed, and falls from his horse near
his colonel. Lieutenant Boynton, while urging his men, is killed.
Lieutenant Hill is wounded, but still keeps his place. Captains Soule
and Woodward are both wounded, and yet keep their command. The blood
is running freely from the mouth of Lieutenant Jewett; but he does not
leave his company. Sergeant-Major Trotter is wounded, but still fights.
Sergeant 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 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.
The Sixth Regiment United States colored troops was the second
which was organized at Camp William Penn, near Philadelphia, by
Lieutenant-Colonel 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-General B. F. Butler, at Fortress
Monroe, and were assigned to duty at Yorktown, Virginia, and became
part of the brigade (afterwards so favorably known), under the
command of Colonel 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 Lieutenant-Colonel 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 Brigadier-General Hinks. In the expedition made up the James
River the same month, under General 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 picket-line 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
manœuvring 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 General 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, Virginia, where, on the 16th of August, they
assisted in driving the rebels from Signal Hill; General 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. Captains York and Sheldon
and Lieutenant Meyer were killed close to the rebel works. Lieutenants
Pratt, Landon, and McEvoy subsequently died of the wounds received.
Lieutenant 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 through the
entire 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.