Let us, however, grant, say some, that the Negro helps himself; that
is not sufficient. Anybody should help himself, anybody can; but what
is the race worth as a constructive factor in American civilization?
Is it finally to be an agency making for the upbuilding of the nation,
or simply one of the forces that retard? What is its promise in
American life?
In reply to this we recall first of all the work that has already been
remarked along industrial lines. We have seen that the nation,
especially in the South, depends upon Negro men and women as the
stable labor supply in such occupations as farming, sawmilling,
mining, cooking, and washing. Figures bearing this out have already
been given. The tremendous new emphasis on farming and mining incident
to the war is known to all. The Negro is now helping most vitally to
feed the American people and to produce the materials for
transportation and the making of munitions. Let any one ask, even the
prejudiced observer, if he would like to see every Negro in the
country out of it, and then he will decide whether economically the
Negro is a liability for the country or an asset.
Again, consider the Negro soldier. In all our history there are no
pages more heroic, more pathetic than those detailing the exploits of
the black man. We remember the Negro, three thousand strong, fighting
for the liberties of America when his own race was still held in
bondage. We remember the deeds at Port Hudson, Fort Pillow, and Fort
Wagner. We remember Santiago and San Juan Hill, not only how Negro men
went gallantly to the charge, but how a black regiment faced
pestilence and fever that the ranks of their white comrades might not
be decimated. And then Carrizal. Once more, at an unexpected moment,
the soul of the nation was thrilled by the bravery of the black
troopers of the Tenth Cavalry. Once more, despite Brownsville, the
tradition of Fort Wagner was preserved and passed on. It mattered not
that "some one had blundered." "Theirs not to make reply; theirs but
to do and die." So in the face of odds they fought by the cactus and
lay dead beneath the Mexican stars.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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