Recognition of Negro Soldiers with Officers of their own Color.—Society in New Orleans.—The Inhuman Master.—Justice.—Change of Opinion.—The Free Colored Population.
When Major-Gen. Butler found himself in possession of New Orleans, he was soon satisfied of the fact that there were but few loyalists amongst the whites, while the Union feeling of the colored people was apparent from the hour of his landing; they having immediately called upon the commander, and, through a committee, offered their services in behalf of the Federal cause. Their offer was accepted, as the following will show:—
“Headquarters Department of the Gulf, New Orleans, Aug. 22, 1862.
“General Order, No. 63:
“Whereas, on the twenty-third day of April, in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-one, at a public meeting of the free colored population of the city of New Orleans, a military organization, known as the ‘Native Guards’ (colored), had its existence, which military organization was duly and legally enrolled as a part of the military of the State, its officers being commissioned by Thomas O. Moore, Governor, and Commander- in-Chief of the Militia, of the State of Louisiana, in the form following, that is to say:—
“‘The State of Louisiana.
[Seal of the State.]
“‘By Thomas Overton Moore, Governor of the State of Louisiana, and Commander-in-Chief of the Militia thereof.
“‘In the name and by the authority of the State of Louisiana:
“‘Know ye that————————, having been duly and legally elected Captain of the “Native Guards” (colored), First Division of the Militia of Louisiana, to serve for the term of the war,
“I do hereby appoint and commission him Captain as aforesaid, to take rank as such, from the second day of May, 1861.
“‘He is, therefore, carefully and diligently to discharge the duties of his office, by doing and performing all manner of things thereto belonging. And I do strictly charge and require all officers, non-commissioned officers, and privates under his command to be obedient to his orders as Captain; and he is to observe and follow such orders and directions, from time to time, as he shall receive from me, or the future Governor of the State of Louisiana, or other superior officers, according to the Rules and Articles of War, and in conformity to law.
“‘In testimony whereof, I have caused these letters to be made patent, and the seal of the State to be hereunto annexed.
“‘Given under my hand, at the city of Baton Rouge, on the second day of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two.
“‘(Signed)
“‘By the Governor.
“‘P. D. HARDY, Secretary of State.”
“‘I, Maurice Grivot, Adjutant and Inspector-General of the State of Louisiana, do hereby certify that————————, named in the within commission, did, on the twenty-second day of May, in the year 1861, deposit In my office his written acceptance of the office to which he is commissioned, and his oath of office taken according to law.
“‘M. GRIVOT‘“Adjutant and Inspector-General La.’
“And whereas such military organization elicited praise and respect, and was complimented in general orders for its patriotism and loyalty, and was ordered to continue during the war, in the words following:—
“‘Headquarters Louisiana Militia,
“‘Adjutant-General’s Office, Mardi 24, 1862.
“‘Order No. 426:
“‘I, The Governor and Commander-in-Chief, relying implicitly upon the loyalty of the free colored population of the city and State, for the protection of their homes, their property, and for Southern rights, from the pollution of a ruthless invader, and believing that the military organization which existed prior to the 15th February, 1862, and elicited praise and respect for the patriotic motives which prompted it, should exist for and during the war, calls upon them to maintain their organization, and hold themselves prepared for such orders as may be transmitted to them.
“‘II. The colonel commanding will report without delay to Major-Gen. Lewis, commanding State Militia.
“’ By order of
“‘THOS. O. MOORE, Governor.
“‘31. GRIVOT, Adjutant-General.’
“And whereas said military organization, by the same order, was directed to report to Major-Gen. Lewis for service, but did not leave the city of New Orleans when he did:
“Now, therefore, the commanding-general, believing that a large portion of this military force of the State of Louisiana are willing to take service in the volunteer forces of the United States, and be enrolled and organized to ‘defend their homes from ruthless invaders;’ to protect their wives and children and kindred from wrongs and outrages; to shield their property from being seized by bad men; and to defend the flag of their native country as their fathers did under Jackson at Chalmette against Packingham and his myrmidons, carrying the black flag of ‘beauty and booty’.
“Appreciating their motives, relying upon their ‘well-known loyalty and patriotism,’ and with ‘praise and respect’ for these brave men, it is ordered that all the members of the ‘Native Guards’ aforesaid, and all other free colored citizens recognized by the first and late governor and authorities of the State of Louisiana as a portion of the militia of the State, who shall enlist in the volunteer service of the United States, shall be duly organized by the appointment of proper officers, and accepted, paid, equipped, armed, and rationed as are other volunteer corps of the United States, subject to the approval of the President of the United States. All such persons are required to report themselves at the Touro Charity Building, Front Levee Street, New Orleans, where proper officers will muster them into the service of the United States.
“By command of
“R. S. DAVIS, Captain and A.A.A.G.
“Major-Gen. BUTLER.”
The commanding general soon discovered that he was amongst a different people from those with whom he had been accustomed to associate. New Orleans, however, though captured was not subdued. The city had been for years the headquarters and focus of all Southern rowdyism. An immense crowd of “loafers,” many without regular occupation or means, infested the streets, controlled the ballot-boxes, nominated the judges, selected the police, and affected to rule every one except a few immensely wealthy planters, who governed them by money. These rowdies had gradually dissolved society, till New Orleans had become the most blood-thirsty city in the world; a city where every man went armed, where a sharp word was invariably answered by a stab, and where the average of murdered men taken to one hospital was three a day. The mob were bitter advocates of slavery, held all Yankees in abhorrence, and guided by the astute brain of Pierre Soulé, whilom ambassador to Spain, resolved to contest with Gen. Butler the right to control the city. They might as well have contested it with Bonaparte. The first order issued by the general indicated a policy from which he never swerved. The mob had surrounded the St. Charles Hotel, threatening an attack on the building, then the general’s headquarters; and Gen. Williams, commanding the troops round it, reported that he would be unable to control the mob. “Gen. Butler, in his serenest manner, replied, ‘Give my compliments to Gen. Williams, and tell him, if he finds he cannot control the mob, to open upon them with artillery.’” The mob did that day endeavor to seize Judge Summers, the Recorder; and he was only saved by the determined courage of Lieut. Kinsman, in command of an armed party. From this moment the general assumed the attitude he never abandoned, that of master of New Orleans, making his own will the law. He at first retained the municipal organization; but, finding the officials incurably hostile, he sent them to Fort Lafayette, and thenceforward ruled alone, feeding the people, re-establishing trade, maintaining public order, and seeing that negroes obtained some reasonable measure of security. Their evidence was admitted, “Louisiana having, when she went out of the Union, taken her black code with her;” the whipping-house was abolished, and all forms of torture sternly prohibited.
The following interesting narrative, given by a correspondent of “The Atlantic Monthly,” will show, to some extent, the scenes which Gen. Butler had to pass through in connection with slavery:—
“One Sunday morning, late last summer, as I came down to the breakfast-room, I was surprised to find a large number of persons assembled in the library.
“When I reached the door, a member of the staff took me by the arm, and drew me into a room toward a young and delicate mulatto girl, who was standing against the opposite wall, with the meek, patient bearing of her race, so expressive of the system of repression to which they have been so long subjected.
“Drawing down the border of her dress, my conductor showed me a sight more revolting than I trust ever again to behold.
“The poor girl’s back was flayed until the quivering flesh resembled a fresh beefsteak scorched on a gridiron. With a cold chill creeping through my veins, I turned away from the sickening spectacle, and, for an explanation of the affair, scanned the various persons about the room.
“In the centre of the group, at his writing-table, sat the general. His head rested on his hand, and he was evidently endeavoring to fix his attention upon the remarks of a tall, swarthy-looking man who stood opposite, and who, I soon discovered, was the owner of the girl, and was attempting a defence of the foul outrage he had committed upon the unresisting and helpless person of his unfortunate victim, who stood smarting, but silent, under the dreadful pain inflicted by the brutal lash.
“By the side of the slave-holder stood our adjutant-general, his face livid with almost irrepressible rage, and his fists tight clenched, as if to violently restrain himself from visiting the guilty wretch with summary and retributive justice. Disposed about the room, in various attitudes, but all exhibiting in their countenances the same mingling of horror and indignation, were other members of the staff; while near the door stood three or four house-servants, who were witnesses in the case.
“To the charge of having administered the inhuman castigation, Landry (the owner of the girl) pleaded guilty, but urged, in extenuation, that the girl had dared to make an effort for that freedom which her instincts, drawn from the veins of her abuser, had taught her was the God-given right of all who possess the germ of immortality, no matter what the color of the casket in which it is hidden.
“I say ‘drawn from the veins of her abuser,’ because she declared she was his daughter; and everyone in the room, looking upon the man and woman confronting each other, confessed that the resemblance justified the assertion.
“At the conclusion of all the evidence in the case, the general continued in the same position as before, and remained for some time apparently lost in abstraction. I shall never forget the singular expression on his face.
“I had been accustomed to see him in a storm of passion at any instance of oppression or flagrant injustice; but, on this occasion, he was too deeply affected to obtain relief in the usual way.
“His whole air was one of dejection, almost listlessness; his indignation too intense, and his anger too stern, to find expression, even in his countenance. After sitting in the mood which I have described at such length, the general again turned to the prisoner, and said, in a quiet, subdued tone of voice,—
“‘Mr. Landry, I dare not trust myself to decide to-day what punishment would be meet for your offence; for I am in that state of mind that I fear I might exceed the strict demands of justice. I shall therefore place you under guard for the present, until I conclude upon your sentence.’
“A few days after, a number of influential citizens having represented to the general that Mr. Landry was not only a ‘high-toned gentleman,’ but a person of unusual ‘amiability’ of character, and was consequently entitled to no small degree of leniency, he answered, that, in consideration of the prisoner’s ‘high-toned’ character, and especially of his ‘amiability,’ of which he had seen so remarkable a proof, he had determined to meet their views; and therefore ordered that Landry give a deed of manumission to the girl, and pay a fine of five hundred dollars, to be placed in the hands of a trustee for her benefit.”
It was scenes like the above that changed Gen. Butler’s views upon the question of slavery; for it cannot be denied, that, during the first few weeks of his command in New Orleans, he had a controversy with Gen. Phelps, owing to the latter’s real antislavery feelings. Soon after his arrival, Gen. Butler gave orders that all negroes not needed for service should be removed from the camps. The city was sealed against their escape. Even secession masters were assured that their property, if not employed, should be returned. It is said that pledges of reimbursement for loss of labor were made to such. Gen. Phelps planted himself on the side of the slave; would not exile them from his camp; branded as cruel the policy that harbored, and then drove out the slave to the inhuman revenge that awaited him.
Yet the latter part of Gen. Butler’s reign compensated for his earlier faults. It must be remembered, that, when he landed in New Orleans, he was fresh from Washington, where the jails were filled with fugitive slaves, awaiting the claim of their masters; where the return of the escaped bondman was considered a military duty. Then how could he be expected to do better? The stream cannot rise higher than the spring.
His removal from the Department of the Gulf, on account of the crushing blows which he gave the “peculiar institution,” at once endeared him to the hearts of the friends of impartial freedom throughout the land.
The following imitation of Leigh Hunt’s celebrated poem is not out of place here:—
“Abou Ben Butler (may his tribe increase! )
Awoke one night down by the old Balize,
And saw, outside the comfort of his room,
Making it warmer for the gathering gloom,
A black man, shivering in the Winter’s cold.
Exceeding courage made Ben Butler bold;
And to the presence in the dark lie said,
“What wantest thou?” The figure raised its head,
And, with a look made of all sad accord,
Answered, “The men who’ll serve the purpose of the Lord.”
“And am I one?” said Butler. “Nay, not so,”
Replied the black man. Butler spoke more low,
But cheerly still, and said, “As I am Ben,
You’ll not have cause to tell me that again!”
The figure bowed and vanished. The next night
It came once more, environed strong in light,
And showed the names whom love of Freedom blessed;
And, lo! Ben Butler’s name led all the rest.”
—Boston Transcript.
It is probably well known that the free colored population of New Orleans, in intelligence, public spirit, and material wealth, surpass those of the same class in any other city of the Union. Many of these gentlemen have been highly educated, have travelled extensively in this and foreign countries, speak and read the French, Spanish, and English languages fluently, and in the Exchange Rooms, or at the Stock Boards, wield an influence at anytime fully equal to the same number of white capitalists. Before the war, they represented in that city alone fifteen millions of property, and were heavily taxed to support the schools of the State, but were not allowed to claim the least benefit therefrom.
These gentlemen, representing so much intelligence, culture, and wealth, and who would, notwithstanding the fact that they all have negro blood in their veins, adorn any circle of society in the North, who would be taken upon Broadway for educated and wealthy Cuban planters, rather than free negroes, although many of them have themselves held slaves, have always been loyal to the Union; and, when New Orleans seemed in danger of being re-captured by the rebels under Gen. Magruder, these colored men rose en masse, closed their offices and stores, armed and organized themselves into six regiments, and for six weeks abandoned their business, and stood ready to fight for the defence of New Orleans, while, at the same time, not a single white regiment from the original white inhabitants was raised.
Emancipation in the District.—Comments of the Press.—The Good Result.—Recognition of Hayti and Liberia.—The Slave-trader Gordon.
For many years previous to the Rebellion, efforts had been made to induce Congress to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, without success. The “negro-pens” which adorned that portion of the national domain had long made Americans feel ashamed of the capital of their country; because it was well known that those pens were more or less connected with the American slave-trade, which, in its cruelty, was as bad as that of the African slave-trade, if not worse. It was expected, even by the democracy, that one of the first acts of the Republicans on coming into office would be the emancipation of the slaves of the District; and therefore no one was surprised at its being brought forward in the earliest part of Mr. Lincoln’s administration. The bill was introduced into the Senate by Hon. Henry Wilson of Massachusetts. Its discussion caused considerable excitement among slave-holders, who used every means to prevent its passage. Nevertheless, after going through the Senate, it passed the House on the 11th of April, 1862, by a large majority, and soon received the sanction of the President. The Copperhead press howled over the doings of Congress, and appeared to see the fate of the institution in this act. The “Louisville Journal” said,—
“The President, contrary to our most earnest hopes, has approved the bill for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia.
“We need hardly say that the President’s reasons for approving the bill are not, in our opinion, such as should have governed him at this extraordinary juncture of the national history. They are not to us sufficient reasons. On the contrary, we think they weigh as nothing compared with the grave reasons in the opposite scale.
“The enemies of the country will no doubt attempt so to use the act by representing it as the first step towards the abolition of slavery in the States; but this representation, if made, will be a very gross misrepresentation. The Republicans, as a body, our readers know full well, always declared that Congress had the constitutional power to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, and that Congress ought to exercise the power. They, however, have always declared, with the same unanimity, that Congress does not possess the constitutional power to interfere with slavery in the States. And they now declare so with especial distinctness and solemnity.
“We, of course, except from the scope of the remarks we have now made such abolitionists as Sumner and his scattered followers in Congress. With the exception of these few raving zealots, of whom most Republicans are heartily ashamed, the men who voted to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia avow themselves as resolutely opposed to interfering with slavery in the States as the men who voted against the measure are known to be. Their avowals are distinct and emphatic.
“We hope that the majority in Congress are at length through with such tricks, and will henceforth leave in peace the myrtle of party eye-sores, while they split the oak of the Rebellion.”
However, the predictions and hopes of the “Journal” were not to avail any thing for the slavemongers. The Rebellion had sounded the death-knell of the crime of crimes. Too many brave men had already fallen by the hands of the upholders of the barbarous system to have it stop there. The God of liberty had proclaimed that—
“In this, the District where my Temple stands,
I burst indignant every captive’s bands;
Here in my home my glorious work begin;
Then blush no more each day to see this sin.
Thus finding room to freely breathe and stand,
I’ll stretch my sceptre over all the land,
Until, unfettered, leaps the waiting slave,
And echoes back the blessings of the brave.”
The “Press,” Forney’s paper, spoke thus, a few days after slavery had died in the District:—
“The emancipation of slaves in the District of Columbia was one of the most suggestive events of the age. It was an example and an illustration. The great idea of the past century, the idea which had associated and identified itself with our institutions, was at last tried by a practical test. Good results came from it; none of the evils dreaded and prophesied have been manifested. It was a simple measure of legislative policy, and was established amid great opposition and feeling. Yet it was succeeded by no agitation, no outbreaks of popular prejudice. The District of Columbia is now a free Territory by the easy operation of a statute law,—by what enemies of the measure called forcible emancipation; and yet the District of Columbia is as pleasant and as prosperous as at any period of its history. There has been no negro saturnalia, no violent outbreak of social disorder, no attempt to invade those barriers of social distinction that must forever exist between the African and Anglo-Saxon [?]. It was said that property would depreciate; that there would be excesses and violences; that the negro would become insolent and unbearable; that the city of Washington would become a desolated metropolis; that negro labor would become valueless; that hundreds of the emancipated negroes would flock to the Northern States. We have seen no such results as yet; we know that nothing of the kind is anticipated. We have yet to hear of the first emancipated negro coming to Philadelphia. Labor moves on in its accustomed way, with the usual supply and demand. We do not think a white woman has been insulted by an emancipated negro; we are confident that no emancipated negro has sought the hand of any fair damsel of marriageable age and condition.
“Society is the same in Maryland and Kentucky. In accomplishing emancipation in the District of Columbia, we have shown the timid that their fears were but of the imagination, the mere prejudices of education. Slavery has been the cancer of the Southern social system. We employ an old metaphor, perhaps, but it is a forcible and appropriate illustration. It rooted itself into the body of Southern society, attacking the glands, terminating in an ill-conditioned and deep disease, and causing the republic excruciating pain. It became schirrous and indurated. It brought disaster and grief upon them, and the sorest of evils upon us. It brought us blood and civil war, ruined commerce and desolated fields, blockaded ports, and rivers that swarm with gunboats instead of merchant vessels. It was tolerated as a necessary evil, until its extent and virulence made it incumbent upon us to terminate it as such, or to be terminated by it. The champions of this institution, not content with submitting to the toleration and protection of our great Northern free community, have made it the pretext for aggression and insult, and by their own acts are accomplishing its downfall. The emancipation of slavery in the District of Columbia was the necessary and natural result of the Southern Rebellion. It is but the beginning of the results the Rebellion must surely bring. The wedge has only entered the log, and heavy blows are falling upon it day by day.”
Great was the rejoicing in Washington and throughout the Free States; for every one saw “the end from the beginning.” Our own Whittier strung his harp anew, and sung,—
“I knew that truth would crush the lie,—
Somehow, sometime the end would be;
Yet scarcely dared I hope to see
The triumph with my mortal eye.
But now I see it. In the sun
A free flag floats from yonder dome,
And at the nation’s hearth and home
The justice long delayed is done.”
With the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, commenced a new era at our country’s capital. The representatives of the Governments of Hayti and Liberia had both long knocked in vain to be admitted with the representatives of other nations. The slave power had always succeeded in keeping them out. But a change had now come over the dreams of the people, and Congress was but acting up to this new light in passing the following bill:—
“Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That the President of the United States be, and he hereby is, authorized, by and with the consent of the Senate, to appoint diplomatic representatives of the United States to the republics of Hayti and Liberia, respectively. Each of the said representatives so appointed shall be accredited as commissioner and consul general, and shall receive, out of any money in the treasury not otherwise appropriated, the compensation of commissioners provided for by the Act of Congress approved August 18, 1856: Provided that the compensation of the representative at Liberia shall not exceed $4,000.”
The above bill was before the Senate some time, and elicited much discussion, and an able speech was made by Hon. Charles Sumner in favor of the recognition of the independence of Hayti and Liberia. To use his own expressive words, “Slavery in the national capital is now abolished: it remains that this other triumph shall be achieved. Nothing but the sway of a slave-holding despotism on the floor of Congress, hitherto, has prevented the adoption of this righteous measure; and now that that despotism has been exorcised, no time should be lost by Congress to see it carried into immediate execution. All other civilized nations have ceased to make complexion a badge of superiority or inferiority in the matter of nationality; and we should make haste, therefore, to repair the injury we have done, as a republic, in refusing to recognize Liberian and Haytian independence.”
Even after all that had passed, the African slave-trade was still being carried on between the Southern States and Africa. Ships were fitted out in Northern ports for the purpose of carrying on this infernal traffic. And, although it was prohibited by an act of Congress, none had ever been convicted for dealing in slaves. The new order of things was to give these traffickers a trial, and test the power by which they had so long dealt in the bodies and souls of men whom they had stolen from their native land. One Nathaniel Gordon was already in prison in New York, and his trial was fast approaching: it came, and he was convicted of piracy in the United States District Court in the city of New York; the piracy consisting in having fitted out a slaver, and shipped nine hundred Africans at Congo River, with a view to selling them as slaves. The same man had been tried for the same offence before; but the jury failed to agree, and he accordingly escaped punishment for the time. Every effort was made which the ingenuity of able lawyers could invent, or the power of money could enforce, to save this miscreant from the gallows; but all in vain: for President Lincoln utterly refused to interfere in any way whatever, and Gordon was executed on the 7th of February.
This blow appeared to give more offence to the commercial Copperheads than even the emancipation of the slaves in the District of Columbia; for it struck an effectual blow at a very lucrative branch of commerce, in which the New Yorkers were largely interested. Thus it will be seen that the nation was steadily moving on to the goal of freedom.
The Great Fright.—Cruel Treatment of the Colored People by the Police. —Bill Homer and his Roughs.—Military Training.—Col. Dickson.—The Work.—Mustering Out.—The Thanks.
Hatred to the negro is characteristic of the people of Cincinnati; more so, probably, than any other city in the West. Mobs in which the colored citizens have been the victims have more than once occurred in that place, to the utter disgrace of its white inhabitants,—mobs resulting often in the loss of life, and always in the destruction of property. The raid of John Morgan in the month of July, 1862, and, soon after, the defeat of the Union troops in Kentucky, had given warning of impending danger. This feeling of fear culminated on the first of September, in the mayor of Cincinnati calling on the people to organize and prepare for the defence of the city, in the following proclamation:—
“Mayor’s Office, City of Cincinnati.
“In accordance with a resolution passed by the City Council of Cincinnati on the first instant, I hereby request that all business of every kind or character be suspended at ten o’clock of this day, and that all persons, employers and employees, assemble in their respective wards, at the usual places of voting, and then and there organize themselves in such manner as may be thought best for the defence of the city. Every man, of every age, be he citizen or alien, who lives under the protection of our laws, is expected to take part in the organization.
“Witness my hand, and the corporate seal of the city of Cincinnati, this second day of September, A.D. 1862.
“GEORGE HATCH, Mayor.”
At two o’clock on the morning of the same day, the mayor issued another proclamation, notifying the citizens that the police force would perform the duty of a provost-guard, under the direction of Gen. Wallace.
The mayor’s proclamation, under ordinary circumstances, would be explicit enough. “Every man, of every age, be he citizen or alien,” surely meant the colored people. A number thought themselves included in the call; but, remembering the ill-will excited by former offers for home defence, they feared to come forward for enrolment. The proclamation ordered the people to assemble “in the respective wards, at the usual places of voting.” The colored people had no places of voting. Added to this, George Hatch was the same mayor who had broken up the movement for home defence, before mentioned. Seeking to test the matter, a policeman was approached, as he strutted in his new dignity of provost-guard. To the question, humbly, almost tremblingly, put, “Does the mayor desire colored men to report for service in the city’s defence?” he replied, “You know d———d well he does’nt mean you. Niggers ain’t citizens.”—“But he calls on all, citizens and aliens. If he does not mean all, he should not say so.”—“The mayor knows as well as you do what to write, and all he wants is for you niggers to keep quiet.” This was at nine o’clock on the morning of the second. The military authorities had determined, however, to impress the colored men for work upon the fortifications. The privilege of volunteering, extended to others, was to be denied to them. Permission to volunteer would imply some freedom, some dignity, some independent manhood. For this the commanding officer is alone chargeable.
If the guard appointed to the duty of collecting the colored people had gone to their houses, and notified them to report for duty on the fortifications, the order would have been cheerfully obeyed. But the brutal ruffians who composed the regular and special police took every opportunity to inflict abuse and insult upon the men whom they arrested. The special police was entirely composed of that class of the population, which, only a month before, had combined to massacre the colored population, and were only prevented from committing great excesses by the fact that John Morgan, with his rough riders, had galloped to within forty miles of the river, when the respectable citizens, fearing that the disloyal element within might combine with the raiders without, and give the city over to pillage, called a meeting on ‘Change, and demanded that the riot be stopped. The special police was, in fact, composed of a class too cowardly or too traitorous to aid, honestly and manfully, in the defence of the city. They went from house to house, followed by a gang of rude, foul-mouthed boys. Closets, cellars, and garrets were searched; bayonets were thrust into beds and bedding; old and young, sick and well, were dragged out, and, amidst shouts and jeers, marched like felons to the pen on Plum Street, opposite the Cathedral. No time was given to prepare for camp-life; in most cases no information was given of the purpose for which the men were impressed. The only-answers to questions were curses, and a brutal “Come along now; you will find out time enough.” Had the city been captured by the Confederates, the colored people would have suffered no more than they did at the hands of these defenders. Tuesday night, Sept. 2, was a sad night to the colored people of Cincinnati. The greater part of the male population had been dragged from home, across the river, but where, and for what, none could tell.
The captain of these conscripting squads was one William Homer, and in him organized ruffianism had its fitting head. He exhibited the brutal malignity of his nature in a continued series of petty tyrannies. Among the first squads marched into the yard was one which had to wait several hours before being ordered across the river. Seeking to make themselves as comfortable as possible, they had collected blocks of wood, and piled up bricks, upon which they seated themselves on the shaded side of the yard. Coming into the yard, he ordered all to rise, marched them to another part, then issued the order, “D——n you, squat.” Turning to the guard, he added, “Shoot the first one who rises.” Reaching the opposite side of the river, the same squad were marched from the sidewalk into the middle of the dusty road, and again the order, “D—n you, squat,” and the command to shoot the first one who should rise.
The drill of this guard of white ruffians was unique, and not set down in either Scott or Hardee. Calling up his men, he would address them thus: “Now, you fellows, hold up your heads. Pat, hold your musket straight; don’t put your tongue out so far; keep your eyes open: I believe you are drunk. Now, then, I want you fellows to go out of this pen, and bring all the niggers you can catch. Don’t come back here without niggers: if you do, you shall not have a bit of grog. Now be off, you shabby cusses, and come back in forty minutes, and bring me niggers; that’s what I want.” This barbarous and inhuman treatment of the colored citizens of Cincinnati continued for four days, without a single word of remonstrance, except from the “Gazette.”
Finally, Col. Dickson, a humane man and gentlemanly officer, was appointed to the command of the “Black Brigade,” and brutality gave way to kind treatment. The men were permitted to return to their homes, to allay the fears of their families, and to prepare themselves the better for camp-life. The police were relieved of provost-guard duty, and on Friday morning more men reported for duty than had been dragged together by the police. Many had hidden too securely to be found; others had escaped to the country. These now came forward to aid in the city’s defence. With augmented numbers, and glowing with enthusiasm, the Black Brigade marched to their duty. Receiving the treatment of men, they were ready for any thing. Being in line of march, they were presented with a national flag by Capt. Lupton, who accompanied it with the following address:—
“I have the kind permission of your commandant, Col. Dickson, to hand you, without formal speech or presentation, this national flag,—my sole object to encourage and cheer you on to duty. On its broad folds is inscribed, ‘The Black Brigade of Cincinnati.’ I am confident, that, in your hands, it will not be dishonored.
“The duty of the hour is work,—hard, severe labor on the fortifications of the city. In the emergency upon us, the highest and the lowest alike owe this duty. Let it be cheerfully undertaken. He is no man who now, in defence of home and fireside, shirks duty.
“A flag is the emblem of sovereignty, a symbol and guaranty of protection. Every nation and people are proud of the flag of their country. England, for a thousand years, boasts her Red Flag and Cross of St. George; France glories in her Tri-color and Imperial Eagle; ours, the ‘Star-spangled Banner,’ far more beautiful than they,—this dear old flag!—the sun in heaven never looked down on so proud a banner of beauty and glory. Men of the Black Brigade, rally around it! Assert your manhood; be loyal to duty; be obedient, hopeful, patient: Slavery will soon die; the slave-holders’ rebellion, accursed of God and man, will shortly and miserably perish. There will then be, through all the coming ages, in very truth, a land of the free,—one country, one flag, one destiny.
“I charge you, men of the Black Brigade of Cincinnati, remember that for you, and for me, and for your children, and your children’s children, there is but one flag, as there is but one Bible, and one God, the Father of us all.”
For nearly three weeks the Black Brigade labored upon the fortifications, their services beginning, as we have seen, Sept. 2, and terminating Sept: 20.
When the brigade was mustered out, the commander thanked them in the following eloquent terms:—
“Soldiers of the Black Brigade! You have finished the work assigned to you upon the fortifications for the defence of the city. You are now to be discharged. You have labored faithfully; you have made miles of military roads, miles of rifle-pits, felled hundreds of acres of the largest and loftiest forest trees, built magazines and forts. The hills across yonder river will be a perpetual monument of your labors. You have, in no spirit of bravado, in no defiance of established prejudice, but in submission to it, intimated to me your willingness to defend with your lives the fortifications your hands have built. Organized companies of men of your race have tendered their services to aid in the defence of the city. In obedience to the policy of the Government, the authorities have denied you this privilege. In the department of labor permitted, you have, however, rendered a willing and cheerful service. Nor has your zeal been dampened by the cruel treatment received. The citizens, of both sexes, have encouraged you with their smiles and words of approbation; the soldiers have welcomed you as co-laborers in the same great cause. But a portion of the police, ruffians in character, early learning that your services were accepted, and seeking to deprive you of the honor of voluntary labor, before opportunity was given you to proceed to the field, rudely seized you in the streets, in your places of business, in your homes, everywhere, hurried you into filthy pens, thence across the river to the fortifications, not permitting you to make any preparation for camp-life. You have borne this with the accustomed patience of your race; and when, under more favorable auspices, you have received only the protection due to a common humanity, you have labored cheerfully and effectively.
“Go to your homes with the consciousness of having performed your duty,—of deserving, if you do not receive, the protection of the law, and bearing with you the gratitude and respect of all honorable men. You have learned to suffer and to wait; but, in your hours of adversity, remember that the same God who has numbered the hairs of our heads, who watches over even the fate of a sparrow, is the God of your race as well as mine. The sweat-blood which the nation is now shedding at every pore is an awful warning of how fearful a thing it is to oppress the humblest being.”
A letter in “The Tribune,” dated Cincinnati, Sept. 7, giving an account of the enthusiasm of the people in rallying for the city’s defence, says, “While all have done well, the negroes, as a class, must bear away the palm. When martial law was declared, a few prominent colored men tendered their services in any capacity desired. As soon as it became known that they would be accepted, Mayor Hatch’s police commenced arresting them everywhere, dragging them away from their houses and places of business without a moment’s notice, shutting them up in negro-pens, and subjecting them to the grossest abuse and indignity. Mr. Hatch is charged with secession proclivities. During the recent riots against the negroes, the animus of his police was entirely hostile to them, and many outrages were committed upon that helpless and unoffending class. On this occasion, the same course was pursued. No opportunity was afforded the negro to volunteer; but they were treated as public enemies. They were taken over the river, ostensibly to work upon the fortification; but were scattered, detailed as cooks for white regiments, some of them half-starved, and all so much abused that it finally caused a great outcry. When Gen. Wallace’s attention was called to the matter, he requested Judge William M. Dickson, a prominent citizen, who is related by marriage to President Lincoln, to take the whole matter in charge. Judge Dickson undertook the thankless task: organized the negroes into two regiments of three hundred each, made the proper provision for their comfort, and set them at work upon the trenches. They have accomplished more than any other six hundred of the whole eight thousand men upon the fortifications. Their work has been entirely voluntary. Judge Dickson informed them at the outset that all could go home who chose; that it must be entirely a labor of love with them. Only one man of the whole number has availed himself of the privilege; the rest have all worked cheer, fully and efficiently. One of the regiments is officered by white captains, the other by negroes. The latter, proved so decidedly superior that both regiments will hereafter be commanded by officers of their own race. They are not only working, but drilling; and they already go through some of the simpler military movements very creditably.. Wherever they appear, they are cheered by our troops. Last night, one of the colored regiments, coming off duty for twenty-four hours, was halted in front of headquarters, at the Burnet House, front faced, and gave three rousing cheers for Gen. Wallace, and three more for Judge Dickson.”