Chapter XLV: Blacks Enlisted, and in Battle

Attorney-General Bates had already given his opinion with regard to the citizenship of the negro, and that opinion was in the black man’s favor. The Emancipation Proclamation was only a prelude to calling on the colored men to take up arms, and the one soon followed the other; for the word “Emancipation” had scarcely gone over the wires, ere Adjutant-General Thomas made his appearance in the valley of the Mississippi. At Lake Providence, Louisiana, he met a large wing of the army, composed of volunteers from all parts of the country, and proclaimed to them the new policy of the administration.

The Northern regiments stationed at the South, or doing duty in that section, had met with so many reverses on the field of battle, and had been so inhumanly treated by the rebels, both men and women, that the new policy announced by Adjutant-General Thomas at Lake Providence and other places, was received with great favor, especially when the white soldiers heard from their immediate commanders that the freedmen when enlisted would be employed in doing fatigue-duty, when not otherwise needed. The slave, regarding the use of the musket as the only means of securing his freedom permanently, sought the nearest place of enlistment with the greatest speed.

The appointment of men from the ranks of the white regiments over the blacks caused the former to feel still more interest in the new levies. The position taken by Major-General Hunter, in South Carolina, and his favorable reports of the capability of the freedmen for military service, and the promptness with which that distinguished scholar and Christian gentleman, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, accepted the colonelcy of the First South Carolina, made the commanding of negro regiments respectable, and caused a wish on the part of white volunteers to seek commissions over the blacks.

The new regiments filled up rapidly; the recruits adapted themselves to their new condition with a zeal that astonished even their friends; and their proficiency in the handling of arms, with only a few days’ training, set the minds of their officers at rest with regard to their future action.

On the 7th of June, 1863, the first regular battle was fought between the blacks and whites in the valley of the Mississippi. The planters had boasted, that, should they meet their former slaves, a single look from them would cause the negroes to throw down their weapons, and run. Many Northern men, especially Copperheads, professed to believe that such would be the case. Therefore, all eyes were turned to the far-off South, the cotton, sugar, and rice-growing States, to see how the blacks would behave on the field of battle; for it is well known that the most ignorant of the slave population belonged in that section.

The first intimation that the commanding officer at Milliken’s Bend received was from one of the black men, who went into the colonel’s tent, and said, ‘Massa, the secesh are in camp.’ The colonel ordered him to have the men load their guns at once. He instantly replied,--

“We have done did dat now, massa.” Before the colonel was ready, the men were in line, ready for action.

“The enemy charged us so close that we fought with our bayonets, hand to hand. I have six broken bayonets to show how bravely my men fought,” said the colonel. “I can truly say,” continued he, “that I never saw a braver company of men in my life.

“Not one of them offered to leave his place until ordered to fall back. I went down to the hospital, three miles, to-day, to see the wounded. Nine of them were there, two having died of their wounds. A boy who had cooked for me came and begged a gun when the rebels were advancing, and took his place with the company; and when we retook the breastworks, I found him badly wounded, with one gun-shot and two bayonet wounds. A new recruit I had issued a gun to the day before the fight was found dead, with a firm grasp on his gun, the bayonet of which was broken in three pieces. So they fought and died, defending the cause that we revere. They met death coolly, bravely; not rashly did they expose themselves, but all were steady and obedient to orders.”

This battle satisfied the slave-masters of the South that their charm was gone; and that the negro, as a slave, was lost forever. Yet there was one fact connected with the battle of Milliken’s Bend which will descend to posterity, as testimony against the humanity of slave-holders; and that is, that no negro was ever found alive that was taken a prisoner by the rebels in this fight.

The next engagement which the blacks had, was up the St. Mary’s River, South Carolina, under the command of Colonel T. W. Higginson. Here, too, the colored men did themselves and their race great credit.

We now come to the battle of Port Hudson, in which the black forces consisted of the First Louisiana, under Lieutenant-Colonel Bassett, and the Third Louisiana, under Colonel Nelson. The line-officers of the Third were white; and the regiment was composed mostly of freedmen, many of whose backs still bore the marks of the lash, and whose brave, stout hearts beat high at the thought that the hour had come when they were to meet their proud and unfeeling oppressors.

The First was the noted regiment called “The Native Guard,” which General Butler found when he entered New Orleans, and which so promptly offered its services to aid in crushing the Rebellion. The line-officers of this regiment were all colored, taken from amongst the most wealthy and influential of the free colored people of New Orleans. It was said that not one of them was worth less than twenty-five thousand dollars. The brave, the enthusiastic, and the patriotic, found full scope for the development of their powers in this regiment, of which all were well educated; some were fine scholars. One of the most efficient officers was Captain André Callioux, a man whose identity with his race could not be mistaken. This regiment petitioned their commander to allow them to occupy the post of danger in the battle, and it was granted.

As the moment of attack drew near, the greatest suppressed excitement existed; but all were eager for the fight. Captain Callioux walked proudly up and down the line, and smilingly greeted the familiar faces of his company. Officers and privates of the white regiments looked on as they saw these men at the front, and asked each other what they thought would be the result. Would these blacks stand fire? Was not the test by which they were to be tried too severe? Colonel Nelson being called to act as brigadier-general, Lieutenant-Colonel Finnegas took his place. The enemy in his stronghold felt his power, and bade defiance to the expected attack. At last the welcome word was given, and our men started. The enemy opened a blistering fire of shell, canister, grape, and musketry. The first shell thrown by the enemy killed and wounded a number of the blacks; but on they went. “Charge” was the word.

At every pace, the column was thinned by the falling dead and wounded. The blacks closed up steadily as their comrades fell, and advanced within fifty paces of where the rebels were working a masked battery, situated on a bluff where the guns could sweep the whole field over which the troops must charge. This battery was on the left of the charging line. Another battery of three or four guns commanded the front, and six heavy pieces raked the right of the line as it formed, and enfiladed its flank and rear as it charged on the bluff. It was ascertained that a bayou ran under the bluff where the guns lay,--a bayou deeper than a man could ford. This charge was repulsed with severe loss. Lieutenant-Colonel Finnegas was then ordered to charge, and in a well-dressed, steady line his men went on the double-quick down over the field of death.

No matter how gallantly the men behaved, no matter how bravely they were led, it was not in the course of things that this gallant brigade should take these works by charge. Yet charge after charge was ordered and carried out under all these disasters with Spartan firmness. Six charges in all were made. Colonel Nelson reported to General Dwight the fearful odds he had to contend with. Says General Dwight, in reply, “Tell Colonel Nelson I shall consider that he has accomplished nothing unless he take those guns.” Humanity will never forgive General Dwight for this last order; for he certainly saw that he was only throwing away the lives of his men. But what were his men? “Only niggers.” Thus the last charge was made under the spur of desperation.

The ground was already strewn with the dead and wounded, and many of the brave officers had fallen early in the engagement. Among them was the gallant and highly-cultivated Anselmo. He was a standard-bearer, and hugged the stars and stripes to his heart as he fell forward upon them pierced by five balls. Two corporals near by struggled between themselves as to who should have the honor of again raising those blood-stained emblems to the breeze. Each was eager for the honor; and during the struggle a missile from the enemy wounded one of them, and the other corporal shouldered the dear old flag in triumph, and bore it through the charge in the front of the advancing lines.

Shells from the rebel guns cut down trees three feet in diameter, and they fell, at one time burying a whole company beneath their branches. Thus they charged bravely on certain destruction, till the ground was slippery with the gore of the slaughtered, and cumbered with the bodies of the maimed. The last charge was made about one o’clock. At this juncture, Captain Callioux was seen with his left arm dangling by his side,--for a ball had broken it above the elbow,--while his right hand held his unsheathed sword gleaming in the rays of the sun; and his hoarse, faint voice was heard cheering on his men. A moment more, and the brave and generous Callioux was struck by a shell, and fell far in advance of his company.

The fall of this officer so exasperated his men, that they appeared to be filled with new enthusiasm; and they rushed forward with a recklessness that probably has never been surpassed. Seeing it to be a hopeless effort, the taking of these batteries, the order was given to change the programme; and the troops were called off. But had they accomplished anything more than the loss of many of their brave men? Yes; they had. The self-forgetfulness, the undaunted heroism, and the great endurance of the Negro, as exhibited that day, created a new chapter in American history for the colored man.

Many Persians were slain at the battle of Thermopylæ; but history records only the fall of Leonidas and his four hundred companions. So in the future, when we shall have passed away from the stage, and rising generations shall speak of the conflict at Port Hudson, and the celebrated charge of the negro brigade, they will forget all others in the admiration for André Callioux and his colored associates. General Banks, in his report of the battle of Port Hudson, says: “Whatever doubt may have existed heretofore as to the efficiency of organizations of this character, the history of this day proves conclusively to those who were in a condition to observe the conduct of these regiments, that the government will find in this class of troops effective supporters and defenders. The severe test to which they were subjected, and the determined manner in which they encountered the enemy, leaves upon my mind no doubt of their ultimate success.”

The splendid behavior of the blacks in the valley of the Mississippi, was soon equalled by the celebrated Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, commanded by the lamented Robert G. Shaw.

On the sixteenth of July, the Fifty-fourth Regiment (colored), Colonel R. G. Shaw, was attacked by the enemy, on James Island, in which a fight of two hours’ duration took place, the Rebels largely out-numbering the Union forces. The Fifty-fourth, however, drove the enemy before them in confusion. The loss to our men was fourteen killed and eighteen wounded. During the same day, Colonel Shaw received orders from General Gillmore to evacuate the Island. Preparations began at dusk. The night was dark and stormy, and made the movement both difficult and dangerous. The march was from James Island to Cole Island, across marshes, streams, and dikes, and part of the way upon narrow foot-bridges, along which it was necessary to proceed in single file. The whole force reached Cole Island the next morning, July 17, and rested during the day on the beach opposite the south end of Folly Island. About ten o’clock in the evening, the colonel of the Fifty-fourth received orders directing him to report, with his command, to General George C. Strong, at Morris Island, to whose brigade the regiment was transferred.

From eleven o’clock of Friday evening until four o’clock of Saturday, they were being put on the transport, the “General Hunter,” in a boat which took about fifty at a time. There they breakfasted on the same fare, and had no other food before entering into the assault on Fort Wagner in the evening.

The General Hunter left Cole Island for Folly Island at six A. M.; and the troops landed at Pawnee Landing about nine and a half A. M., and thence marched to the point opposite Morris Island, reaching there about two o’clock in the afternoon. They were transported in a steamer across the inlet, and at four P. M., began their march for Fort Wagner. They reached Brigadier-General Strong’s quarters, about midway on the Island, about six or six and a half o’clock, where they halted for five minutes.

General Strong expressed a great desire to give them food and stimulants; but it was too late, as they had to lead the charge. They had been without tents during the pelting rains of Thursday and Friday nights. General Strong had been impressed with the high character of the regiment and its officers; and he wished to assign them the post where the most severe work was to be done, and the highest honor was to be won.

The march across Folly and Morris Islands was over a sandy road, and was very wearisome. The regiment went through the centre of the Island, and not along the beach, where the marching was easier.

When they had come within six hundred yards of Fort Wagner, they formed in line of battle, the colonel heading the first, and the major the second battalion. This was within musket-shot of the enemy. There was little firing from the enemy; a solid shot falling between the battalions, and another falling to the right, but no musketry. At this point, the regiment, together with the next supporting regiment, the Sixth Connecticut, Ninth Maine, and others, remained half an hour. The regiment was addressed by General Strong and by Colonel Shaw. Then, at seven and a half or seven and three-quarters o’clock, the order for the charge was given. The regiment advanced at quick time, changed to double-quick when at some distance on.

The intervening distance between the place where the line was formed and the fort was run over in a few minutes. When about one hundred yards from the fort, the rebel musketry opened with such terrible effect that for an instant the first battalion hesitated,--but only for an instant; for Colonel Shaw, springing to the front and waving his sword, shouted, “Forward, my brave boys!” and with another cheer and a shout they rushed through the ditch, gained the parapet on the right, and were soon engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict with the enemy. Colonel Shaw was one of the first to scale the walls. He stood erect, to urge forward his men, and while shouting for them to press on was shot dead, and fell into the fort. His body was found, with twenty of his men lying dead around him; two lying on his own body.

The Fifty-fourth did well and nobly; only the fall of Colonel Shaw prevented them from entering the fort. They moved up as gallantly as any troops could, and with their enthusiasm, they deserved a better fate.

Sergeant-Major Lewis H. Douglass, son of Frederick Douglass, the celebrated orator, sprang upon the parapet close behind Colonel Shaw, and cried out, “Come, boys, come; let’s fight for God and Governor Andrew.” This brave young man was the last to leave the parapet. Before the regiment reached the parapet, the color-sergeant was wounded; and while in the act of falling, the colors were seized by Sergeant William H. Carney, who bore them up, and mounted the parapet, where he, too, received three severe wounds. But on orders being given to retire, the color-bearer, though almost disabled, still held the emblem of liberty in the air, and followed his regiment by the aid of his comrades, and succeeded in reaching the hospital, where he fell exhausted and almost lifeless on the floor, saying, “The old flag never touched the ground, boys.” Captain Lewis F. Emilio, the junior captain,--all of his superiors having been killed or wounded,--took command, and brought the regiment into camp. In this battle, the total loss in officers and men, killed and wounded, was two hundred and sixty-one.

When inquiry was made at Fort Wagner, under flag of truce, for the body of Colonel Shaw of the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth, the answer was, “We have buried him with his niggers!” It is the custom of savages to outrage the dead, and it was only natural that the natives of South Carolina should attempt to heap insult upon the remains of the brave young soldier; but that wide grave on Morris Island will be to a whole race a holy sepulchre. No more fitting place for burial, no grander obsequies could have been given to him who cried, as he led that splendid charge, “On, my brave boys,” than to give to him and to them one common grave.

Shaw’s Regiment afterwards distinguished itself in the hard-fought battle of Olustee, an engagement that will live in the history of the Rebellion.

The battle of Olustee was fought in a swamp situated thirty-five miles west of Jacksonville, and four miles from Sanderson, in the State of Florida. The expedition was under the immediate command of General C. Seymour, and consisted of the Seventh New Hampshire, Seventh Connecticut, Eighth United States (colored) Battery, Third United States Artillery, Fifty-fourth Massachusetts (colored), and First North Carolina (colored). The command having rested on the night of the 19th of February, 1864, at Barbour’s Ford, on the St. Mary’s River, took up its line of march on the morning of the 20th, and proceeded to Sanderson, nine miles to the west, which was reached at one o’clock, P. M., without interruption; but about three miles beyond, the advance drove in the enemy’s pickets. The Seventh Connecticut, being deployed as skirmishers, fell in with the enemy’s force in the swamp, strengthened still more by rifle-pits. Here they were met by cannon and musketry; but our troops, with their Spencer rifles, played great havoc with the enemy, making an attempt to take one of his pieces of artillery, but failed. However, they held their ground nobly for three-quarters of an hour, and were just about retiring as the main body of our troops came up.

The Eighth (colored), which had never been in battle, and which had been recruited but a few weeks, came up and filed to the right, when they met with a most terrific shower of musketry and shell. General Seymour now came up, and pointing in front, towards the railroad, said to Colonel Fribley, commander of the Eighth, “Take your regiment in there,”--a place which was sufficiently hot to make the oldest and most field-worn veterans tremble; and yet these men, who had never heard the sound of a cannon before, rushed in where they commenced dropping like grass before the sickle. Still on they went without faltering, until they came within two hundred yards of the enemy’s strongest works. Here these brave men stood for nearly three hours before a terrible fire, closing up as their ranks were thinned out, fire in front, on their flank, and in the rear, without flinching or breaking.

Colonel Fribley, seeing that it was impossible to hold the position, passed along the lines to tell the officers to fire, and fall back gradually, and was shot before he reached the end. He was shot in the chest, told the men to carry him to the rear, and expired in a very few minutes. Major Burritt took command, but was also wounded in a short time. At this time Captain Hamilton’s battery became endangered, and he cried out to our men for God’s sake to save his battery. Our United States flag, after three sergeants had forfeited their lives by bearing it during the fight, was planted on the battery by Lieutenant Elijah Lewis, and the men rallied around it; but the guns had been jammed up so indiscriminately, and so close to the enemy’s lines, that the gunners were shot down as fast as they made their appearance; and the horses, whilst they were wheeling the pieces into position, shared the same fate. They were compelled to leave the battery, and failed to bring the flag away. The battery fell into the enemy’s hands. During the excitement, Captain Bailey took command, and brought out the regiment in good order. Sergeant Taylor, Company D., who carried the battle-flag, had his right hand nearly shot off, but grasped the colors with the left hand, and brought them out.

The Seventh New Hampshire was posted on both sides of the wagon-road, and broke, but soon rallied, and did good execution. The line was probably one mile long, and all along the fighting was terrific.

Our artillery, where it could be worked, made dreadful havoc on the enemy; whilst the enemy did us but very little injury with his; with the exception of one gun, a sixty-four pound swivel, fixed on a truck-car on the railroad, which fired grape and canister. On the whole, their artillery was very harmless; but their musketry fearful.

Up to this time, neither the First North Carolina nor the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts had taken any part in the fight, as they were in the rear some distance. However, they heard the roar of battle, and were hastening to the field, when they were met by an aide, who came riding up to the colonel of the Fifty-fourth, saying, “For God’s sake, Colonel, double-quick, or the day is lost!” Of all the regiments, every one seemed to look to the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts with the most dependence on the field of battle. This regiment was under the command of Colonel E. N. Hallowell, who fell wounded by the side of Colonel Shaw, at Fort Wagner, and who, since his recovery, had been in several engagements, in all of which he had shown himself an excellent officer, and had gained the entire confidence of his men, who were willing to follow him wherever he chose to lead. When the aide met these two regiments, he found them hastening on.

The First North Carolina was in light marching order; the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts was in heavy marching order, with knapsacks, haversacks, canteens, and every other appurtenance of the soldier. But off went everything, and they double-quicked on to the field. At the most critical juncture, just as the rebels were preparing for a simultaneous charge along the whole line, and they had captured our artillery and turned it upon us, Colonel James Montgomery, Colonel Hallowell, and Lieutenant-Colonel Hooper formed our line of battle on right by file into line.

The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts went in first, with a cheer. They were followed by the First North Carolina (colored); Lieutenant-Colonel Reed, in command, headed the regiment, sword in hand, and charged upon the rebels. They broke when within twenty yards of contact with our negro troops. Overpowered by numbers, the First North Carolina fell back in good order, and poured in a destructive fire. Their colonel fell, mortally wounded. Major Bogle fell wounded, and two men were killed in trying to reach his body. The Adjutant, William C. Manning, before wounded at Malvern Hills, got a bullet in his body, but persisted in remaining until another shot struck him. His lieutenant-colonel, learning the fact, embraced him, and implored him to leave the field. The next moment the two friends were stretched side by side; the colonel had received his own death-wound. But the two colored regiments had stood in the gap, and saved the army. The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, which, with the First North Carolina, may be truly said to have saved the forces from utter rout, lost eighty men.

There were three color-sergeants shot down; the last one was shot three times before he relinquished the flag of his country. His name was Samuel C. Waters, Company C., and his body sleeps where he fell. The battle-flag carried by Sergeant Taylor was borne through the fight with the left hand, after the right one was nearly shot off. The rebels fired into the place where the wounded were being attended to; and their cavalry was about making a charge on it just as the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts appeared on the field, when they retired.

Had Colonel Hallowell not seen at a glance the situation of affairs, the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers would have been killed or captured. When they entered the field with the First North Carolina, which is a brave regiment, they (the First North Carolina) fired well while they remained; but they gave way, thus exposing the right. On the left, the rebel cavalry were posted; and as the enemy’s left advanced on our right, their cavalry pressed the left. Both flanks were thus being folded up, and slaughter or capture would have been the inevitable result. We fell back in good order, and established new lines of battle, until we reached Sanderson.

Here a scene that beggars description was presented. Wounded men lined the railroad station; and the roads were filled with artillery, caissons, ammunition, baggage-wagons, infantry, cavalry, and ambulances. The only organized bodies ready to repel attack were a portion of the Fortieth Massachusetts Mounted Infantry, armed with the Spencer repeating-rifle, the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers, and the Seventh Connecticut, commanded by Colonel Hawley, now governor of Connecticut.

An occurrence of thrilling interest took place during the battle, which I must not omit to mention. It was this:--

Colonel Hallowell ordered the color-line to be advanced one hundred and fifty paces. Three of the colored corporals, Pease, Palmer, and Glasgow, being wounded, and the accomplished Goodin killed, there were four only left,--Wilkins, the acting sergeant, Helman, and Lenox. The colors were perforated with bullets, and the staff was struck near the grasp of the sergeant; but the color-guard marched steadily out, one hundred and fifty paces to the front, with heads erect and square to the front; and the battalion rallied around it, and fought such a fight as made Colonel Hallowell shout with very joy, and the men themselves to ring out defiant cheers which made the pines and marshes of Ocean Pond echo again.

Although these colored men had never been paid off, and their families at home were in want, they were as obedient, and fought as bravely, as the white troops, whose pockets contained “greenbacks,” and whose wives and children were provided for.

The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts went into the battle with “Three cheers for Massachusetts, and seven dollars a month.”

It is well known that the general in command came to the colonel and said, “The day is lost; you must do what you can to save the army from destruction.” And nobly did they obey him. They fired their guns till their ammunition was exhausted, and then stood with fixed bayonets till the broken columns had time to retreat, and though once entirely outflanked, the enemy getting sixty yards in their rear, their undaunted front and loud cheering caused the enemy to pause, and allowed them time to change front. They occupied the position as rear guard all the way back to Jacksonville; and wherever was the post of danger, there was the Fifty-fourth to be found.

When the forces arrived at Jacksonville, they there learned that the train containing the wounded was at Ten-Mile Station, where it had been left, owing to the breaking down of the engine. The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, fatigued and worn out as it was, was despatched at once, late at night, to the assistance of the disabled train. Arriving at Ten-Mile Station, they found that the only way to bring the wounded with them was to attach ropes to the cars, and let the men act as motive power. Thus the whole train of cars containing the wounded from the battle of Olustee was dragged a distance of ten miles by that brave colored regiment.

The battle of Poison Springs, Arkansas, between one thousand Union and eight thousand rebel troops, was one of the most severe conflicts of the war. Six hundred of the Union forces were colored, and from Kansas, some of them having served under old John Brown during the great struggle in that territory. These black men, as it will be seen, bore the brunt of the fight, and never did men show more determined bravery than was exhibited on this occasion.

Nothing in the history of the Rebellion equalled in inhumanity and atrocity the horrid butchery at Fort Pillow, Kentucky, on the 13th of April, 1864. In no other school than slavery could human beings have been trained to such readiness for cruelties like these. Accustomed to brutality and bestiality all their lives, it was easy for them to perpetrate the atrocities which startled the civilized foreign world, as they awakened the indignation of our own people.

After the rebels were in undisputed possession of the fort, and the survivors had surrendered, they commenced the indiscriminate butchery of all the Federal soldiery. The colored soldiers threw down their guns, and raised their arms, in token of surrender; but not the least attention was paid to it. They continued to shoot down all they found. A number of them, finding no quarter was given, ran over the bluff to the river, and tried to conceal themselves under the bank and in the bushes, where they were pursued by the rebel savages, whom they implored to spare their lives. Their appeals were made in vain; and they were all shot down in cold blood, and, in full sight of the gunboat, chased and shot down like dogs. In passing up the bank of the river, fifty dead might be counted strewed along. One had crawled into a hollow log, and was killed in it; another had got over the bank into the river, and had got on a board that ran out into the water. He lay on it on his face, with his feet in the water. He lay there, when exposed, stark and stiff. Several had tried to hide in crevices made by the falling bank, and could not be seen without difficulty; but they were singled out, and killed. From the best information to be had, the white soldiers were, to a very considerable extent, treated in the same way.

We now record an account of the battle of Honey Hill, South Carolina, and one of the most famous engagements in which the blacks fought during the war.

Honey Hill is about two and a half miles east of the village of Grahamville, Beaufort District. On the crest of this, where the road or the highway strikes it, is a semicircular line of earthworks, defective, though, in construction, as they are too high for infantry, and have little or no exterior slope. These works formed the centre of the rebel lines; while their left reached up into the pinelands, and their right along a line of fence that skirted the swamp below the batteries. They commanded fully the road in front as it passes through the swamp at the base of the hill, and only some fifty or sixty yards distant. Through the swamp runs a small creek, which spreads up and down the roads for some thirty or forty yards, but is quite shallow the entire distance. Some sixty yards beyond the creek, the main road turns off to the left, making an obtuse angle; while another and smaller road makes off to the right from the same point.

The Union forces consisted of six thousand troops, artillery, cavalry, and infantry, all told, under the command of Major-General J. G. Foster, General John P. Hatch having the immediate command. The First Brigade, under General E. E. Potter, was composed of the Fifty-sixth and One Hundred and Forty-fourth United States, Twenty-fifth Ohio, and Thirty-fourth and Thirty-fifth United States (colored). The Second Brigade, under Colonel A. S. Hartwell, was composed of the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, and Twenty-sixth and Thirty-second United States (colored). Colonel E. P. Hallowell, of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, had, in spite of his express desire, been left behind in command of Morris and Folly Islands. As at the battle of Olustee, the enemy was met in small numbers some three or four miles from his base. The Union forces approached the fort by the left road, which brought them in front of the enemy’s guns, pointing down the hill, which was also down the road.

The Thirty-second United States colored troops were ordered to charge the rebel fort; had got in position at the head of the road. They attempted, but got stuck in the marsh, which they found impassable at the point of their assault; and a galling fire of grape, canister, and musketry being opened on them, they were forced to retire.

The Thirty-fourth United States colored troops also essayed an assault, but could not get near enough to produce any effect upon it. These regiments, however, only fell back to the line of battle, where they remained throughout the entire fight.

The Fifty-fifth Massachusetts (colored) went into the fight on the right of the brigade, commanded by Colonel Hartwell. The fire became very hot; but still the regiment did not waver, the line merely quivered. Captain Goraud, of General Foster’s staff, whoso gallantry was conspicuous all day, rode up just as Colonel Hartwell was wounded in the hand, and advised him to retire; but the colonel declined.

Colonel Hartwell gave the order; the colors came to the extreme front, when the colonel shouted, “Follow your colors!” The bugle sounded the charge, and then the colonel led the way himself.

After an unsuccessful charge in line of battle by the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, the Fifty-fifth was formed in column by company, and again thrice marched up that narrow causeway in the face of the enemy’s batteries and musketry.

Captain Crane, of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, whose company had been left in charge of Fort Delafield, at Folly Island, but who, at his own request, had gone as aide to Colonel Hartwell, was, as well as the colonel, mounted.

Just as they reached the marsh in front of the turn in the road, and within a short distance of the rebel works, the horse of brave Colonel Hartwell, while struggling through the mud, was literally blown in pieces by a discharge of canister.

The colonel was wounded at the same time, and attempted to jump from his horse; but the animal fell on him, pressing him into the mud. At this time, he was riding at the side of the column, and the men pressed on past; but as they neared the fort they met a murderous fire of grape, canister, and bullets at short range. As the numbers of the advance were thinned, the few who survived began to waver, and finally the regiment retreated.

In retiring, Lieutenant Ellsworth, and one man of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, came to the rescue of Colonel Hartwell, and in spite of his remonstrance that they should leave him to his fate, and take care of themselves, released him from his horse, and bore him from the field. But before he was entirely out of range of the enemy’s fire, the colonel was again wounded, and the brave private soldier who was assisting was killed, and another heroic man lost.

The Twenty-fifth Ohio, soon after the commencement of the engagement, were sent to the right, where they swung around, and fought on a line nearly perpendicular to our main front. A portion of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts were with them. One or two charges were essayed, but were unsuccessful; but the front was maintained there throughout the afternoon. The Twenty-fifth had the largest loss of all the regiments.

The colored troops fought well throughout the day. Counter-charges were made at various times during the fight by the enemy; but our infantry and artillery mowed them down, and they did not at any time get very near our lines. Whenever a charge of our men was repulsed, the rebels would flock out of their works, whooping like Indians; but Ames’s guns and the terrible volleys of our infantry would send them back. The Naval Brigade behaved splendidly.

The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts, heroes of all the hard fights that occurred in the department, were too much scattered in this battle to do full justice to themselves. Only two companies went into the fight at first, under Lieutenant-Colonel Hooper. They were posted on the left. Subsequently they were joined by four more companies, who were left on duty in the rear.

Many scenes transpired in this battle which would furnish rich material for the artist. In the midst of the engagement, a shell exploded amongst the color-guard, severely wounding the color-sergeant, Ring, who was afterwards killed by a bullet. Private Fitzgerald, of Company D., Massachusetts Fifty-fifth, was badly wounded in the side and leg, but remained at his post. Major Nutt, seeing his condition, ordered him to the rear. The man obeyed; but soon the major saw that he had returned, when he spoke sharply, “Go to the rear, and have your wounds dressed.” The man again obeyed the order; but in a few minutes more was seen by the major, with a handkerchief bound around the leg, and loading and firing. The major said to our informant, “I thought I would let him stay.”

Like the Fifty-fourth at Olustee, the Fifty-fifth was the last regiment to leave the field, and cover the retreat at Honey Hill.

It is only simple justice to the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment, to say that at Honey Hill it occupied the most perilous position throughout nearly the entire battle.

Three times did these heroic men march up the hill nearly to the batteries, and as many times were swept back by the fearful storm of grape-shot and shell; more than one hundred being cut down in less than half an hour. Great was its loss; and yet it remained in the gap, while our outnumbered army was struggling with the foe on his own soil, and in the stronghold chosen by himself.

What the valiant Fifty-fourth Massachusetts had been at the battle of Olustee, the Fifty-fifth was at Honey Hill.

Never was self-sacrifice, by both officers and men, more apparent than on this occasion; never did men look death more calmly in the face. See the undaunted and heroic Hartwell at the head of his regiment, and hear him shouting, “Follow your colors, my brave men!” and with drawn sword leading his gallant band. His horse is up to its knees in the heavy mud. The rider, already wounded, is again struck by the fragment of a shell, but keeps his seat; while the spirited animal struggling in the mire, and plunging about, attracts the attention of the braves, who are eagerly pressing forward to meet the enemy, to retake the lost ground, and gain a victory, or at least, save the little army from defeat. A moment more, he is killed; and the brave Hartwell attempts to jump from his charger, but is too weak. The horse falls with fearful struggles upon its rider, and both are buried in the mud. The brave Captain Crane, the Adjutant, is killed, and falls from his horse near his colonel. Lieutenant Boynton, while urging his men, is killed. Lieutenant Hill is wounded, but still keeps his place. Captains Soule and Woodward are both wounded, and yet keep their command. The blood is running freely from the mouth of Lieutenant Jewett; but he does not leave his company. Sergeant-Major Trotter is wounded, but still fights. Sergeant Shorter is wounded in the knee, yet will not go to the rear. A shell tears off the foot of Sergeant-Major Charles L. Mitchel; and as he is carried to the rear, he shouts, with uplifted hand, “Cheer up, boys; we’ll never surrender!” But look away in front: there are the colors, and foremost amongst the bearers is Robert M. King, the young, the handsome, and the gentlemanly sergeant, whose youth and bravery attract the attention of all. Scarcely more than twenty years of age, well educated, he left a good home in Ohio to follow the fortunes of war, and to give his life to help redeem his race. The enemy train their guns upon the colors, the roar of cannon and crack of rifle is heard, the advanced flag falls, the heroic King is killed; no, he is not dead, but only wounded. A fellow-sergeant seizes the colors; but the bearer will not give them up. He rises, holds the old flag aloft with one hand, and presses the other upon the wound in his side to stop the blood. “Advance the colors!” shouts the commander. The brave King, though saturated with his own blood, is the first to obey the order. As he goes forward, a bullet passes through his heart, and he falls. Another snatches the colors; but they are fast, the grasp of death holds them tight. The hand is at last forced open, the flag is raised to the breeze, and the lifeless body of Robert M. King is borne from the field. This is but a truthful sketch of the part played by one heroic son of Africa, whose death was lamented by all who knew him. This is only one of the two hundred and forty-nine that fell on the field of Honey Hill. With a sad heart we turn away from the picture.

The Sixth Regiment United States colored troops was the second which was organized at Camp William Penn, near Philadelphia, by Lieutenant-Colonel Wagner, of the Eighty-eighth Pennsylvania Volunteers. The regiment left Philadelphia on the 14th of October, 1863, with nearly eight hundred men, and a full complement of officers, a large majority of whom had been in active service in the field.

The regiment reported to Major-General B. F. Butler, at Fortress Monroe, and were assigned to duty at Yorktown, Virginia, and became part of the brigade (afterwards so favorably known), under the command of Colonel S. A. Duncan, Fourth United States colored troops. Here they labored upon the fortifications, and became thoroughly disciplined under the tuition of their colonel, John W. Ames, formerly captain of the Eleventh Infantry, United States army, ably seconded by Lieutenant-Colonel Royce and Major Kiddoo. During the winter, the regiment took a prominent part in the several raids made in the direction of Richmond, and exhibited qualities that elicited the praise of their officers, and showed that they could be fully relied upon in more dangerous work.

The regiment was ordered to Camp Hamilton, Virginia, in May, 1864, where a division of colored troops was formed, and placed under the command of Brigadier-General Hinks. In the expedition made up the James River the same month, under General Butler, this division took part. The white troops were landed at Bermuda Hundreds. Three regiments of colored men were posted at various points along the river. Duncan’s brigade landed at City Point, where they immediately commenced fortifications. The Sixth and Fourth Regiments were soon after removed to Spring Hill, within five miles of Petersburg. Here they labored night and day upon those earthworks which were soon to be the scene of action which was to become historical. The Sixth was in a short time left alone, by the removal of the Fourth Regiment to another point.

On the 29th of May, the rebel forces made an assault on the picket-line, the enemy soon after attacking in strong force, but were unable to drive back the picket-line any considerable distance. The Fourth Regiment was ordered to the assistance of the Sixth; but our forces were entirely too weak to make it feasible or prudent to attack the enemy, who withdrew during the night, having accomplished nothing.

This was the first experience of the men under actual fire, and they behaved finely. When the outer works around Petersburg were attacked, June 15, Duncan’s brigade met the rebels, and did good service, driving the enemy before him. We had a number killed and wounded in this engagement. The rebels sought shelter in their main works, which were of the most formidable character. These defences had been erected by the labor of slaves, detailed for the purpose. Our forces followed them to their stronghold. The white troops occupied the right; and in order to attract the attention of the enemy, while these troops were manœuvring for a favorable attacking position, the colored soldiers were subject to a most galling fire for several hours, losing a number of officers and men. Towards night, the fight commenced in earnest by the troops on the right, who quickly cleared their portion of the line; this was followed by the immediate advance of the colored troops, the Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Twenty-second Regiments. In a very short time the rebels were driven from the whole line; these regiments capturing seven pieces of artillery, and a number of prisoners. For their gallantry in this action the colored troops received a highly complimentary notice from General W. H. Smith in General Orders.

A few hours after entering the rebel works, our soldiers were gladdened by a sight of the veterans of the Army of the Potomac, who that night relieved our men at the front. A glance at the strong works gave the new-comers a better opinion of the fighting qualities of the negroes than they had calculated upon; and a good feeling was at once established, that rapidly dispelled most of the prejudices then existing against the blacks; and from that time to the close of the war, the negro soldier stood high with the white troops.

After spending some time at the Bermuda Hundreds, the Sixth Regiment was ordered to Dutch Gap, Virginia, where, on the 16th of August, they assisted in driving the rebels from Signal Hill; General Butler, in person, leading our troops. The Sixth Regiment contributed its share towards completing Butler’s famous canal, during which time they were often very much annoyed by the rebel shells thrown amongst them. The conduct of the men throughout these trying scenes reflected great credit upon them. On the 29th of September, the regiment occupied the advance in the demonstration made by Butler that day upon Richmond. The first line of battle was formed by the Fourth and Sixth Regiments; the latter entered the fight with three hundred and fifteen men, including nineteen officers.

The enemy were driven back from within two miles of Deep Bottom, to their works at New Market Heights; the Sixth was compelled to cross a small creek, and then an open field. They were met by a fearful fire from the rebel works; men fell by scores; still the regiment went forward. The color-bearers, one after another, were killed or wounded, until the entire color-guard were swept from the field. Two hundred and nine men, and fourteen officers, were killed and wounded. Few fields of battle showed greater slaughter than this; and in no conflict did both officers and men prove themselves more brave. Captains York and Sheldon and Lieutenant Meyer were killed close to the rebel works. Lieutenants Pratt, Landon, and McEvoy subsequently died of the wounds received. Lieutenant Charles Fields, Company A., was killed on the skirmish-line: this left the company in charge of the first sergeant, Richard Carter, of Philadelphia, who kept it in its advanced position through the entire day, commanding with courage and great ability, attracting marked attention for his officer-like bearing. During the battle many instances of unsurpassed bravery were shown by the common soldier, which proved that these heroic men were fighting for the freedom of their race, and the restoration of a Union that should protect man in his liberty without regard to color. No regiment did more towards extinguishing prejudice against the Negro than the patriotic Sixth.