AT CHARLESTON AND FORT SUMTER.
The excitement attending the scenes of the evacuation of the city and
its occupation by the Union forces was scarcely lulled, when it rose
again on the arrival of the “black major,” to whom the rumor preceding
his advent had given the rank of _Major General_.
Arriving in the city on the Sabbath, when most of the people were
gathered at the various places of worship, the news soon became noised
about. And from the early forenoon until long after nightfall, a
continuous stream of visitors poured in upon him, eager to pay their
respects to him. These composed the colored residents of both sexes,
representing every age and condition; nor did this cease when their
curiosity became satisfied, but grew with their acquaintance and
increased with time. At the time of his arrival the population of the
once proud city was limited, consisting only of a few regiments of
Union soldiers on duty, the former free people, the new freedmen,--a
greater portion of the latter being driven from the plantations around
the city, and from the upper portions of the state,--and a few white
families representing the old element. An air of mournful desolation
seemed to brood over the conquered city. There existed no signs of
traffic, except in the sutlers’ stores of the regiments.
Confederate bonds and scrip were most plenteous, and but a small
amount of currency was in circulation with which to purchase the
common necessaries of life. For this cause thousands were thrown
upon the charity of the government for daily subsistence. Nor was
it confined to the colored people; it was no uncommon sight to meet
daily in the streets many of the former enemies of the government,
loaded with its injustice (!) to them in the form of a huge basket
of subsistence received from the quartermaster’s department, and in
many instances assisted by some former chattel, who in several known
cases, afterwards, with true negro generosity, divided their own
portion with them. Such was their position after the evacuation of
the city. Never before in the history of Anglo-Saxon civilization
were there such manifestations of genuine charity and forbearance
towards an unscrupulous and implacable foe, as indicated by the
actions of government. “I was hungry and ye gave me meat, naked and ye
clothed me,” were literally proven by these recipients of its immense
charities. This gave promise of more converts than the sword. While the
great concourse of people, gathered for rations at different places,
attracted thither the curious visitor, he would turn from this to the
many evidences of the unerring precision of the batteries of Morris
Island, which met his gaze on every hand, suggestive of the tales of
horror, and in many instances of retributive justice, through which
they had so recently passed. Much property was destroyed and but few
lives during the siege.
There were incidents related of marvellous escapes from the reach of
these shells, and also deaths of a most appalling character on being
overtaken by them,--the greater portion of the latter being colored
persons, the innocent sharing a worse fate than the guilty.
One case of sad interest happened at midnight, while the siege was at
its height, occurring in a family representing the wealth, culture,
and refinement of the respectable colored citizens of the city. The
father of this family, a man of great mechanical genius, accumulated
considerable property and established for himself a well-earned
reputation as a skilful machinist throughout the state. They were
aroused one night by the noise which usually precedes the near
approach of a shell, which was seen by a member of the family to fall
within a few feet of the house, who, occupying the third story of the
building, attempted to escape below with his wife; but before either
could escape from the room, a second report was heard, followed almost
immediately by the appearance of a shell entering the roof above them,
crashing through the ceilings, which, in covering the latter with
its _débris_, preserved her life, the fragments scattering, one of
the pieces falling into the front room beneath, only disfiguring a
bedstead, but not injuring its occupants, while another piece, more
remorseless, taking another direction, entered the back room, burying
itself in the side of an interesting boy of twelve years, the little
grandson of the old gentleman. The child, startled from its sleep by
the double shock of the explosion and terrible wound, rushed from the
room, exclaiming, in his agony, “Mother! mother! I am killed!” It
was eleven days of the most excruciating agony before the angel of
death relieved little Weston McKenlay. Never did Christianity and true
womanhood beam more beauteously than at the moment when the mother of
that child, relating the wild confusion of that night, laying aside her
own personal sorrow, said, “It was God’s will that the deliverance of
the South should cost us all something.” Major Delany, in speaking of
this class of Charlestonians, as well as the colored people generally,
says, “Their courtesy and natural kindness I have never seen equalled,
while instances of their humanity to the Union prisoners at the risk of
their own lives, speak in trumpet tones to their credit, of which the
country is already cognizant.” On Tuesday after his arrival, an immense
gathering greeted him at Zion’s Church, the largest in the city,
indescribable in enthusiasm and numbers. In the church were supposed to
be upwards of three thousand, while the yard and street leading to the
church were densely packed.
The resolutions passed on this memorable occasion by them we present
here, embodying a testimony of their gratitude for their signal
deliverance from a conflagration which threatened to involve them in a
general desolation, and of their patriotism, setting aside forever the
error that the sympathies of the free colored citizens were enlisted
on the side of their enemies, and not that of the Union, for many
they were who participated in this meeting. We reproduce it also as
expressive of the sentiments gushing from the hearts of a people for
the first time in their history holding a political meeting on the soil
of Carolina, with _open doors_, with none to condemn it as “an unlawful
assemblage,” amenable to law for the act.
Brevet Major General Saxton, and other distinguished officers were
present, and freely took part in the proceedings. Here Major Delany,
for the first time, introduced the subject foremost in his mind, that
of raising an armée d’Afrique, which subject met the enthusiastic
approval of his auditors, and the movement for its organization soon
became popular.
The eventful 14th of April, which was so eagerly awaited, came, and
the earliest beams of the morning found the “City of the Sea” alive
with preparations for the brilliant scene at Sumter, unconscious of its
fearful tragic close at Washington. The city was almost deserted during
the ceremony in the harbor, for all were anxious to witness the flag
in its accustomed place, with its higher, truer symbol, placed there
by the same hands which were once compelled to lower it to a jubilant
but now conquered foe, maddened prior to their destruction. As the old
silken bunting winged itself to its long-deserted staff, thousands
of shouts, and prayers fervent and deep, accompanying, greeted its
reappearance.
Major Delany embarked to witness the ceremony on the historical steamer
Planter, with its gallant commander, Robert Small, whose deeds will
live in song and story, whose unparalleled feat and heroic courage in
the harbor of Charleston, under the bristling guns of rebel batteries,
bearing comparison with the proudest record of our war, will remain,
commemorative of negro strategy and valor.
On the quarter-deck of the steamer the major remained an interested
witness. Beside him stood one, whose father, believing and loving the
doctrine that all men were born free and equal, and within sight of
the emblem of freedom as it floated from the battlements of Sumter,
dared to aim a blow by which to free his race. Betrayed before his
plans were matured, the scaffold gave to Denmark Vesey and his
twenty-two slave-hero compatriots in Charleston, South Carolina, in
1822, the like answer which Charlestown, Virginia, gave John Brown in
1859.
Virginia was free, and black soldiers were now quartered in the citadel
of Charleston, and garrisoned Fort Sumter. The martyred reformers had
not died in vain.
The excitement attending the scene continued during the week,
occasioned by the presence of the distinguished company who came to
participate in the restoration of the flag at Fort Sumter. There were
seen the veterans of the anti-slavery cause, the inspired and dauntless
apostle of liberty, William Lloyd Garrison, the time-honored Joshua
Leavitt, the eloquent George Thompson of England; then the glorious
young editor of the Independent, the able and accomplished orator
of the day, Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Judge Kellogg, and others, all
anxious to tell the truths of freedom to these hungry souls. The
colored schools paraded the streets to honor these visitors, flanked by
thousands of adults, marshalled by their superintendent and assistants,
and led by stirring bands discoursing martial music, the citadel square
densely crowded, and the great Zion’s Church packed to overflowing.
There were speakers on the stands erected on the square--speakers at
the church. There were shouts for liberty and for the Union, shouts
for their great liberator, shouts for the army, rousing cheers for the
speakers, for their loved General Saxton, and for the “black major;”
the people swayed to and fro like a rolling sea.
On Saturday morning, when the visitors left, an immense concourse
followed to the wharf; the steamer seemed loaded with floral gifts, the
graceful ovation of the colored people to their friends. Cheer after
cheer resounded for a parting word from them. They were answered by
Messrs. Thompson and Tilton; at last came forth the immortal Garrison
in answer to an irresistible call.
Major Delany, describing this parting scene at the dock, says, “The
mind was forcibly carried back to the days of the young and ardent
advocate of emancipation, incarcerated in a Baltimore prison, peering
through the gates and bars, hurling defiance at his cowardly opponents,
exclaiming, ‘No difficulty, no dangers, shall deter me: at the East
or at the West, at the North or at the South, wherever Providence may
call me, my voice shall be heard in behalf of the perishing slave, and
against the claims of his oppressors.’ Again did the mind revert to him
in after years, as a man of high integrity in the city of Boston, led
as a beast to the slaughter, with the lyncher’s rope around his neck,
only escaping death by imprisonment. When exhausted, he fell to the
floor, exclaiming, ‘Never was man so glad to get into prison before!’
And in this his last speech he was more sublime than ever. There he
stood in the harbor of Charleston, surrounded by the emancipated slave,
giving his last anti-slavery advice:--
“‘And now, my friends, I bid you farewell. I have always advocated
non-resistance; but this much I say to you, _Come what will never do
you submit again to slavery! Do anything; die first! But don’t submit
again to them--never again be slaves._ Farewell.’
“When the steamer gracefully glided from the pier, the music struck up
in stirring strains, shouts rent the air, and the masses, after gazing
with tearful eyes, commenced slowly retracing their steps homeward.
Never can I forget the scenes transpiring in this eventful week of my
arrival at Charleston, nor on different similar occasions during my
official station there.”
At a meeting of the colored citizens of Charleston, South Carolina,
held at Zion Presbyterian Church, March 29, 1865, the following
preamble and resolutions were unanimously adopted:--
Whereas it is fitting that an expression should be given to the
sentiments of deep-seated gratitude that pervade our breasts,
be it
_Resolved_, 1. That by the timely arrival of the army of
the United States in the city of Charleston, on the 18th of
February, 1865, our city was saved from a vast conflagration,
our houses from devastation, and our persons from those
indignities that they would have been subjected to.
_Resolved_, 2. That our thanks are due, and are hereby freely
tendered, to the district commander, Brigadier General Hatch,
and through him to the officers and soldiers under his command,
for the protection that they have so readily and so impartially
bestowed since their occupation of this city.
_Resolved_, 3. That to Admiral Dahlgren, United States Navy, we
do hereby return our most sincere thanks for the noble manner
in which he cared for and administered to the wants of our
people at Georgetown, South Carolina; and be he assured that
the same shall ever be held in grateful remembrance by us.
_Resolved_, 4. That to his Excellency, the President of the
United States, Abraham Lincoln, we return our most sincere
thanks and never-dying gratitude for the noble and patriotic
manner in which he promulgated the doctrines of republicanism,
and for his consistency in not only promising, but invariably
conforming his actions thereto; and we shall ever be pleased
to acknowledge and hail him as the champion of the rights of
freemen.
_Resolved_, 5. That a copy of these resolutions be transmitted
to Brigadier General Hatch, Admiral Dahlgren, and his
Excellency, the President of the United States, and that they
be published in the Charleston Courier.
MOSES B. CAMPLIN, _Chairman_.
ROBERT C. DE LARGE, _Secretary_.
The following we quote from him as descriptive of his impressions on
his arrival at Charleston:--
“I entered the city, which, from earliest childhood and through
life, I had learned to contemplate with feelings of the utmost
abhorrence--a place of the most insufferable assumption
and cruelty to the blacks; where the sound of the lash at
the whipping-post, and the hammer of the auctioneer, were
coördinate sounds in thrilling harmony; that place which had
ever been closed against liberty by an arrogantly assumptuous
despotism, such as well might have vied with the infamous
King of Dahomey; the place from which had been expelled the
envoy of Massachusetts, for daring to present the claims of
the commonwealth in behalf of her free citizens, and into
which, but a few days before, had proudly entered in triumph
the gallant Schemmelfening, leading with wild shouts the
Massachusetts Fifty-fourth Regiment, composed of some of the
best blood and finest youths of the colored citizens of the
Union. For a moment I paused--then, impelled by the impulse
of my mission, I found myself dashing on in unmeasured
strides through the city, as if under a forced march to
attack the already crushed and fallen enemy. Again I halted
to look upon the shattered walls of the once stately but now
deserted edifices of the proud and supercilious occupants. A
doomed city it appeared to be, with few, or none but soldiers
and the colored inhabitants. The haughty Carolinians, who
believed their state an empire, this city incomparable, and
themselves invincible, had fled in dismay and consternation
at the approach of their conquerors, leaving the metropolis
to its fate. And but for the vigilance and fidelity of the
colored firemen, and other colored inhabitants, there would
have been nothing left but a smouldering plain of ruins in
the place where Charleston once stood, from the firebrands in
the hands of the flying whites. Reaching the upper district,
in the neighborhood of the citadel, I remained at the private
residence of one of the most respectable colored citizens (free
before the war), until quarters suitable could be secured.
Whatever impressions may have previously been entertained
concerning the free colored people of Charleston, their
manifestation from my advent till my departure, gave evidence
of their pride in identity and appreciation of race that equal
in extent the proudest Caucasian.”
Many were the scenes of interest there related, on the entry of the
troops into Charleston, some of a most thrilling character. It was
a memorable day to the enslaved. An incident is related--that a
soldier, mounted on a mule, dashed up Meeting Street, at the head of
the advancing column, bearing in his hand, as he rode, a white flag,
upon which was inscribed, in large black letters, LIBERTY! and loudly
proclaiming it as he went. An old woman, who the night before had lain
down a slave, and even on that morning was uncertain of her master’s
movements, whether or not she should be carried into the interior of
the state, as had been proposed with the evacuation, now heard the
shouts of people and the cry of liberty reëchoed by hundreds of voices.
In the deep gratitude of her heart to God, she was seen to rush with
outstretched arms, as if to clasp this herald of freedom. The soldier
being in the saddle, and consequently beyond her reach, unconsciously
she hugged the mule around the neck, shouting, “Thank God! thank God!”
So fraught with deep emotion were the bystanders at this scene, that it
drew tears from the eyes of many, instead of creating merriment, as it
would have done under different circumstances.
A lady, in rehearsing to another this scene and others of that day,
said, “O, had you been here, you would have felt like embracing
something yourself, had it been but to grasp a flag-staff, or touch the
drapery of the floating colors.”