The Negro as a soldierFleetwood, Christian A. (Christian Abraham)
History
The Negro as a soldier
Fleetwood, Christian A. (Christian Abraham)
African American soldiers; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- African Americans
Necessarily the first actions in which the Negro bore a part commanded
most attention. Friends and enemies were looking eagerly to see how they
would acquit themselves, and so it comes to pass that the names of Fort
Wagner, Olustee, Millikens Bend, Port Hudson and Fort Pillow are as
familiar as Bull Run, Antietam, Shiloh and Gettysburg, and while those
first experiences were mostly severe reverses, they were by that very
fact splendid exemplifiers of the truth that the Negroes, could be
relied upon to fight under the most adverse circumstances, against any
odds, and could not be discouraged.
Let us glance for a moment at Port Hudson, La., in May, 1863, assaulted
by General Banks with a force of which the First and Second Regiments,
Louisiana Native Guards, formed a part. When starting upon their
desperate mission, Colonel Stafford of the First Regiment in turning
over the regimental colors to the color guard, made a brief and
patriotic address, closing in the words:
“Color Guard: Protect, defend, die for, but do not surrender these
colors.” The gallant flag-sergeant, Plancianos, taking them replied:
“Colonel: I will bring back these colors to you in honor, or report to
God the reason why.”
Six times with desperate valor they charged over ground where success
was hopeless, a deep bayou between them and the works of the enemy at
the point of attack rendered it impossible to reach them, yet strange to
say, six times they were ordered forward and six times they went to
useless death, until swept back by the blazing breath of shot and shell
before which nothing living could stand. Here fell the gallant Captain
Cailloux, black as the ace of spades; refusing to leave the field though
his arm had been shattered by a bullet he returned to the charge until
killed by a shell.
A soldier limping painfully to the front was halted and asked where he
was going, he replied; “I am shot bad in de leg, and dey want me to go
to de hospital, but I guess I can give ’em a little more yet.”
The colors came back but crimsoned with the blood of the gallant
Plancianos, who reported to God from that bloody field.
Shall we glance from this to Millikens Bend, La., in January, 1863,
garrisoned by the Ninth and Eleventh Louisiana and the First
Mississippi, all Negroes, and about one hundred and sixty of the
twenty-third Iowa (white), about eleven hundred fighting men in all.
Attacked by a force of six Confederate regiments, crushed out of their
works by sheer weight of numbers, borne down toward the levee, fighting
every step of the way, hand to hand, clubbed musket, bayonets and
swords, from three a. m. to twelve, noon, when a Union gun-boat came to
the rescue and shelled the desperate foe back to the woods, with a total
loss to the defenders of 437 men, two-fifths of their strength.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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