Inspired with the thought of Shakespeare, who said, “He who would be
free, let him first strike the blow himself,” my bosom burned with the
fire of patriotism for the salvation of my country and the freedom of
my people. I was rejoiced when the Hon. Abraham Lincoln was elected
President of these United States, and when it was my fortune to see him
emancipate the millions of members of the downtrodden race. I shall
never forget when I saw him riding through the streets of New York,
with throngs of humanity on either side of him. He was on his way then
to the inauguration at Washington, D. C. to assume control of the
terror-stricken country and to take the reigns of government in his
own hands. While it became necessary that blood should flow freely, I
was reminded, that no sin is ever wiped out without the spilling of
blood. This seems to be a decree of High Heaven, even among the affairs
of men. And God has made no exception to this decree, in the salvation
of men from their personal sins. I was indeed willing to unite with
the party, the Republican party and the abolition movement for their
high and holy purposes, and to be associated with such men as Rev.
Henry Ward Beecher, Rev. Henry Highland Garnett, Theodore Tilton, Lewis
Tapen, William Still, of Philadelphia; Charles Sumner, Thaddeus Stevens
and many other such men, whose platform was justice and right and
freedom extended to all without regard to color or previous condition
of servitude, and to enforce these rights and privileges even at the
point of the bayonet.
At New Haven we had been promised $15 bounty on our enlistment, but
this had not been allowed, no effort, it seems had been made to pay us
this money, but we did not shirk our duty because we had not received
our just dues. We had long been accustomed to such impositions; but
we said that we would honor Old Glory, obey God, and contend for our
prize, Liberty, and will contend in this conflict until the sound of
clanking slave chains shall be heard no more in the length and breadth
of this fair and goodly land, When kings, princes and nobles shall
have been swept into merited oblivion and the Civil War forgotten,
posterity will catch the glowing theme of Liberty and enroll with
rapture the names of those heroes who bought this boon with blood on
the battlefield.
The regiment paraded the streets while multitudes looked with wonder,
some laughing, others cheering, mothers with their babies in their
arms, crying and holding on to their husbands, as they marched away
to do battle for the noblest of causes. It was a scene never to be
forgotten. We marched from Chapel street, where we embarked on a
Government transport. As I went on board the vessel, mother, father,
wife and children, ladies and gentlemen, of my friends, both white and
black, were bidding me goodbye and expressing the hope that I might
have a safe return. I cannot express the sobbing emotions of my heart,
when I ungrasped the hands of these loved ones and friends and turned
my face away from them, knowing that I might be going to my death and
never again see them in this world.
When we reached Annapolis, Md., we were encamped three miles out of
town. Here for the first time we put up our tents. It was cold and
damp. We dug holes about two feet wide extending from within outside
the tent, and placed sheet iron over these and in these small trenches
started our fires. In this way we were able to have heat within and
force the smoke outside.
The colored people in this place were afraid to speak to us. Their
masters looked on us with contempt. On Sunday a reverend gentleman came
into the camp to preach to us and we listened to a very interesting
sermon. After remaining here for eight or ten days, we received orders
to strike tents. We left for Hilton Head, S. C., arriving at this place
April 16, 1864. We marched through the main street and went into camp
with the Twenty-sixth, of New York. On May 25 the paymaster arrived
at Beaufort, S. C., where the Twenty-ninth Regiment was at this time
stationed, and our spirits were greatly lifted up when we saw him, for
as yet we had received no pay for our services. But when we were told
by him that we could receive only $7 per month each, for our services
our spirits fell. So I, together with the rest of my comrades, was
really disgusted with this failure on the part of the Government to
give us a decent compensation for our work as soldiers. The officers
advised us to take it and assured us that at the next payment we should
receive our full compensation. We decided to follow their advice. We
quieted our passions and went to work like good soldiers. My great
desire was to get into contact with the Southern forces that we might
be working out the decision of this great problem. I had no ill feeling
for the Southern white people, some of them had been my best friends;
but this was not a personal matter, but a question of national issue,
involving the welfare of millions, and my soul was on fire for the
question, Slavery or No Slavery, to be forever settled and that too as
soon as possible.
While the troops were at Bermuda Hundred having disembarked from the
transport Alabama, I recalled an incident. When my father and mother
were sitting at the table of my father’s owner, Master Park Custis,
a son of Mr. and Mrs. Custis, saw a piece of pie on the table and
started to help himself, without any formalities, my mother objected
to his uncouthness, caught hold of him and would have handled him
quite roughly, but my father caught hold of her and held her until the
youngster got away with his prize. He was very insolent and insulting.
It all came over me and I thought how I would like to find him at that
time and administer the very flogging which my dear mother started
to give him. I was indeed in a proper mood to have done it, if I had
came across him. This is but a little illustration of hundreds of
incidents that came into my mind when the army was in the South, and as
I felt then, that I was duly protected. I confess that I had a burning
desire to eke out some vengeance which for years had been pent up in
my nature. But, of course, from the Christian standpoint, this was
all wrong. I was all wrong. I was then on a much higher mission than
trying to get personal vengeance on those who had mistreated me and
mine. I was fighting for the liberty of my people and the righting of
many wrongs that belonged to their social and religious welfare. While
I had not learned much of the laws of commerce and politics, I knew
only a little of the arts and sciences, which I had picked up here and
there, by an attentive mind, in mixing with the educated people of the
South; I knew nothing of military science, but I had been watching the
Southerners drill for several years seemingly getting ready for some
unexpected conflict; but I did know that the time was fast approaching
when a great problem would have to be settled by bloodshed, when I
would be called on to make my life a personal sacrifice on the altar
of my country and for the sake of my people. I knew that slavery and
its inhuman machinery must be put out of existence and that the simple
principles of liberty of thought and action in politics, society and
religion must prevail. And, at this time, I was in the full realization
of what it meant to be again in the South, not a cringing black man,
but a proud American soldier with the Union and Old Glory behind,
before, over and under me. I had heard, in the fifties, from the
Southerners, that there would be a war and that if any of the colored
people aided the North in it, they would catch them and cut out their
tongues and make them drink their mothers’ blood. Well, at this time,
I was in the South to have my tongue cut out and to drink my mother’s
blood if it had been necessary. But thank God, I helped to save my own
tongue and my mother’s blood and my race! This is enough glory for me!
All the soldiers of the Twenty-ninth Regiment, although dark-skinned,
felt the full responsibility of their mission. They were in the South
to do, to dare, and to die. And while they had not been trained in
military tactics at West Point and were backward in their movements,
they had been to the armory of God and had received weapons of the
heart, that made them daring and dangerous foes--men to be really
reckoned with. And I am proud to say, that the history of the colored
man in warfare has been an enviable one. He has always showed his
patriotism by action, by deeds of sacrifice, by death itself. We
had the same muscle, the same strength, the same heart, the same
conscience, the same cause, the same right, the same liberty as the
white man. We were fighting under the same flag and the same God. I
remember the words of General Saxon, “Boys, if you want to make good
soldiers you must look a white man straight in the face and let him
know that you are a man.” This gave us fresh courage to press forward
as soldiers to a certain victory.
On the 14th of August, 1864, a time long to be remembered with us,
an oppressively hot day, we marched into Virginia. We were worn out,
weary, thirsty, hungry, and completely exhausted. We were compelled to
carry our blankets, knapsack, musket, and sixty pounds of cartridges.
About 4 P. M. we reached the headquarters of General Birney, in the
woods and encamped. I was so overcome with the heat that I fell to
the ground and was soon asleep. We had no feather beds to lie upon,
only the bare ground--but this bed always supplied by Mother Earth,
was delightful this time for rest. We had for our dinner, breakfast
and supper, half-done salt pork, which was placed on a stick and held
over a blaze to warm it; hard tack, on which one could hardly make
an impression with the teeth, and sometimes coffee, if it could be
gotten. These were some of the hardships of the soldier and these were
enough; but when you add to these the mental condition of many, such
as myself, almost afraid of my own shadow, ready to shoot at anything
that made a threatening noise,--I remember that I shot at the limb of
a tree floating down the river, thinking that it was a rebel skiff
with spies--it was a sore and trying ordeal. Every soldier was in
constant expectation of surprises from the Johnnies, or rebels. Lee’s
and Johnson’s army was near Buzzard’s Roost, in face of a rocky-faced
ridge, to pass him meant suffering and death. We were surrounded by
Dutch Gap Canal, James River, over which we had to cross on a pontoon
bridge, and Fort Hell to be captured and taken. But knowing that
Generals Weitzel, Sherman, Doubleday and Butler had 35,200 men under
them, we went bravely forward, determined that Old Glory should not
trail in the dust.
We crossed the pontoon bridge near Deep Bottom and marching about
two miles, halted in a corn field. Here we rested, but in momentary
readiness for a call to action as the rebels were very near us. We were
soon aroused and called to the fort at Malvern Hill. Here we entered
into an engagement with the rebels and many were wounded, killed and
taken prisoners. I had a very narrow escape and thought several times
that “my time” had come. I remember a twenty-pound cannon ball coming
towards me, I could see it distinctly through the smoke. It looked like
it had been sent especially for me. I said quickly, “Lord, you promised
that a thousand should fall at my side, but that it should not come
nigh me.” It was quick praying, quick thinking, quick coming; but when
the ball was within about three feet of me it struck the ground and
bounded over my head. So I was saved. God’s promise was fulfilled in my
case.
On the 16th we joined the Third Division, Tenth Army Corps, General
Birney’s Brigade, composed of the Twenty-second, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth
and Twenty-ninth, United States Cavalry Troops, numbering 5000 men.
We took up our march for Jones’ Landing, recrossed the pontoon bridge
under very disagreeable circumstances, rain, mud and slush, but we were
thankful and cheerful; glad that we had not been killed, or wounded
or taken prisoners, in the encounter just passed through. Again we
camped in an open field and raised our tents, prepared our bacon and
coffee and hard tack. We were soon ready to take a good night’s sleep.
I remembered my loved ones and wondered how they were faring and my
privations, but I found myself willing to undergo all this for the
cause of liberty.
On the 17th we arose early and received word to advance. In a short
time we were in a fierce battle. Our lieutenant colonel was wounded in
the engagement. Again, I thought that my time had come. By some awkward
movement, I was thrown into the line of the enemy. The Johnnies were
very much excited and did their best to capture me, but I succeeded
in getting back into the Union lines. I knew then that the prayers of
my good old mother were being heard; for surely the Lord delivered
me from the snare of the fowler and from the noisome pestilence. Our
lieutenant colonel had his horse shot from under him and Orderly I.
J. Hill was wounded.
[Illustration: REV. I. J. HILL