13: Conclusion
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My personal forebodings proved to be correct, and so were the threats of
the surgeons. In May, 1864, I went home invalided, was compelled to
resign in October from the same cause, and never saw the First South
Carolina again. Nor did any one else see it under that appellation, for
about that time its name was changed to the Thirty-Third United States
Colored Troops, "a most vague and heartless baptism," as the man in the
story says. It was one of those instances of injudicious sacrifice of
esprit de corps which were so frequent in our army. All the pride of
my men was centred in "de Fus' Souf"; the very words were a recognition
of the loyal South as against the disloyal. To make the matter worse, it
had been originally designed to apply the new numbering only to the new
regiments, and so the early numbers were all taken up before the older
regiments came in. The governors of States, by especial effort, saved
their colored troops from this chagrin; but we found here, as more than
once before, the disadvantage of having no governor to stand by us.
"It's a far cry to Loch Awe," said the Highland proverb. We knew to our
cost that it was a far cry to Washington in those days, unless an
officer left his duty and stayed there all the time.
In June, 1864, the regiment was ordered to Folly Island, and remained
there and on Cole's Island till the siege of Charleston was done. It
took part in the battle of Honey Hill, and in the capture of a fort on
James Island, of which Corporal Robert Vendross wrote triumphantly in a
letter, "When we took the pieces we found that we recapt our own pieces
back that we lost on Willtown Revear (River) and thank the Lord did not
lose but seven men out of our regiment."
In February, 1865, the regiment was ordered to Charleston to do provost
and guard duty, in March to Savannah, in June to Hamburg and Aiken, in
September to Charleston and its neighborhood, and was finally mustered
out of service—after being detained beyond its three years, so great was
the scarcity of troops—on the 9th of February, 1866. With dramatic
fitness this muster-out took place at Fort Wagner, above the graves of
Shaw and his men. I give in the Appendix the farewell address of
Lieutenant-Colonel Trowbridge, who commanded the regiment from the time
I left it. Brevet Brigadier-General W. T. Bennett, of the One Hundred
and Second United States Colored Troops, who was assigned to the
command, never actually held it, being always in charge of a brigade.
The officers and men are scattered far and wide. One of our captains
was a member of the South Carolina Constitutional Convention, and is
now State Treasurer; three of our sergeants were in that Convention,
including Sergeant Prince Rivers; and he and Sergeant Henry Hayne are
still members of the State Legislature. Both in that State and hi
Florida the former members of the regiment are generally prospering,
so far as I can hear. The increased self-respect of army life fitted
them to do the duties of civil life. It is not in nature that the
jealousy of race should die out in this generation, but I trust they
will not see the fulfilment of Corporal Simon Cram's prediction. Simon
was one of the shrewdest old fellows in the regiment, and he said to
me once, as he was jogging out of Beaufort behind me, on the Shell
Road, "I'se goin' to leave de Souf, Cunnel, when de war is over. I'se
made up my mind dat dese yere Secesh will neber be cibilized in my
time."
The only member of the regiment whom I have seen since leaving it is a
young man, Cyrus Wiggins, who was brought off from the main-land in a
dug-out, in broad day, before the very eyes of the rebel pickets, by
Captain James S. Rogers, of my regiment. It was one of the most daring
acts I ever saw, and as it happened under my own observation I was glad
when the Captain took home with him this "captive of his bow and spear"
to be educated under his eye in Massachusetts. Cyrus has done credit to
his friends, and will be satisfied with nothing short of a
college-training at Howard University. I have letters from the men, very
quaint in handwriting and spelling; but he is the only one whom I have
seen. Some time I hope to revisit those scenes, and shall feel, no
doubt, like a bewildered Rip Van Winkle who once wore uniform.
We who served with the black troops have this peculiar satisfaction,
that, whatever dignity or sacredness the memories of the war may have to
others, they have more to us. In that contest all the ordinary ties of
patriotism were the same, of course, to us as to the rest; they had no
motives which we had not, as they have now no memories which are not
also ours. But the peculiar privilege of associating with an outcast
race, of training it to defend its rights and to perform its duties,
this was our especial meed. The vacillating policy of the Government
sometimes filled other officers with doubt and shame; until the negro
had justice, they were but defending liberty with one hand and crushing
it with the other. From this inconsistency we were free. Whatever the
Government did, we at least were working in the right direction. If
this was not recognized on our side of the lines, we knew that it was
admitted on the other. Fighting with ropes round our necks, denied the
ordinary courtesies of war till we ourselves compelled then: concession,
we could at least turn this outlawry into a compliment. We had touched
the pivot of the war. Whether this vast and dusky mass should prove the
weakness of the nation or its strength, must depend in great measure, we
knew, upon our efforts. Till the blacks were armed, there was no
guaranty of their freedom. It was their demeanor under arms that shamed
the nation into recognizing them as men.
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