Loe raamatut: «The Negro in The American Rebellion», lehekülg 15
“Some of the rebels stood upon the top of the hill, or a short distance from its side, and called to our soldiers to come up to them, and, as they approached, shot them down in cold blood; and, if their guns or pistols missed fire, forced them to stand there until they were again prepared to fire. All around were heard cries of ‘No quarter, no quarter!’ ‘Kill the d – d niggers, shoot them down!7 All who asked for mercy were answered by the most cruel taunts and sneers. Some were spared for a time, only to be murdered under circumstances of greater cruelty.
“No cruelty which the most fiendish malignity could devise was omitted by these murderers. One white soldier who was wounded in the leg so as to be unable to walk was made to stand up while his tormentors shot him. Others who were wounded, and unable to stand up, were held up and again shot. One negro who had been ordered by a rebel officer to hold his horse was killed by him when he remonstrated; another, a mere child, whom an officer had taken up behind him on his horse, was seen by Gen. Chalmers, who at once ordered him to put him down and shoot him, which was done.
“The huts and tents in which many of the wounded sought shelter were set on fire, both on that night and the next morning, while the wounded were still in them; those only escaping who were able to get themselves out, or who could prevail on others less injured to help them out: and some of these thus seeking to escape the flames were met by these ruffians, and brutally shot down, or had their brains beaten out. One man was deliberately fastened down to the floor of a tent, face upwards, by means of nails driven through his clothing and into the boards under him, so that he could not possibly escape; and then the tent was set on fire. Another was nailed to the sides of a building outside of the fort, and then the building was set on fire and burned. The charred remains of five or six bodies were afterwards found, all but one so much disfigured and consumed by the flames, that they could not be identified; and the identification of that one is not absolutely certain, although there can hardly be a doubt that it was the body of Lieut. Albertson, Quartermaster of the Thirteenth Virginia Cavalry, and a native of Tennessee. Several witnesses who saw the remains, and who were personally acquainted with him while living here, testified it to be their firm belief that it was his body that was thus treated.
“These deeds of murder and cruelty closed when night came on, only to be renewed the next morning, when the demons carefully sought among the dead lying about in all directions for any other wounded yet alive; and those they found were deliberately shot. Scores of the dead and wounded were found there the day after the massacre by the men from some of our gunboats, who were permitted to go on shore, and collect the wounded, and bury the dead.
“The rebels themselves had made a pretence of burying a great many of their victims; but they had merely thrown them, without the least regard to care or decency, in the trenches and ditches about the fort, or little hollows and ravines on the hillside, covering them but partially with earth. Portions of heads and faces were found protruding through the earth in every direction; and even when your Committee visited the spot, two weeks afterwards, although parties of men had been sent on shore from time to time to bury the bodies unburied, and re-bury the others, and were even then engaged in the same work, we found the evidences of the murder and cruelty still most painfully apparent.
“We saw bodies still unburied, at some distance from the fort, of some sick men who had been met fleeing from the hospital, and beaten down and brutally murdered, and their bodies left where they had fallen. We could still see the faces and hands and feet of men, white and black, protruding out of the ground, whose graves had not been reached by those engaged in re-interring the victims of the massacre; and, although a great deal of rain had fallen within the preceding two weeks, the ground, more especially on the side and at the foot of the bluff where most of the murders had been committed, was still discolored by the blood of our brave but unfortunate soldiers; and the logs and trees showed but too plainly the evidences of the atrocities perpetrated.
“Many other instances of equally, atrocious cruelty might be mentioned; but your Committee feel compelled to refrain from giving here more of the heart-sickening details, and refer to the statements contained in the voluminous testimony herewith submitted. These statements were obtained by them from eye-witnesses and sufferers. Many of them as they were examined by your Committee were lying upon beds of pain and suffering; some so feeble that their lips could with difficulty frame the words by which they endeavored to convey some idea of the cruelties which had been inflicted on them, and which they had seen inflicted on others.”
When the murderers returned, the day after the capture, to renew their fiendish work upon the wounded and dying, they found a young and beautiful mulatto woman searching among the dead for the body of her husband. She was the daughter of a wealthy and influential rebel residing at Columbus. With her husband, this woman was living near the fort when our forces occupied it, and joined the Union men to assist in holding the place. Going from body to body with all the earnestness with which love could inspire an affectionate heart, she at last found the object of her search. He was not dead; but both legs were broken. The wife had succeeded in getting him out from among the piles of dead, and was bathing his face, and giving him water to drink from a pool near by, which had been replenished by the rain that fell a few hours before. At this moment she was seen by the murderous band; and the cry was at once raised, “Kill the wench, kill her!” The next moment the sharp crack of a musket was heard, and the angel of mercy fell a corpse on the body of her wounded husband, who was soon after knocked in the head by the butt-end of the same weapon. Though these revolting murders were done under the immediate eye of Gen. Chalmers, the whole was planned and carried out by Gen. Forrest whose inhumanity has never been surpassed in the history of civilized or even barbarous warfare.
CHAPTER XXXII – INJUSTICE TO COLORED TROOPS
The Pay of the Men. – Government refuses to keep its Promise. – Efforts of Gov. Andrew to have Justice done. – Complaint of the Men. – Mutiny. – Military Murder. – Everlasting Shame.
When the War Department commenced recruiting colored men as soldiers in Massachusetts, New Orleans, and Hilton Head, it was done with the promise that these men should receive the same pay, clothing, and treatment that white soldiers did. The same was promised at Camp William Penn, at Philadelphia. After several regiments had been raised and put in the field, the War Department decided to pay them but ten dollars per month, without clothing. The Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers, and the Fifty-fifth, were both in South Carolina when this decision was made; yet the Government held on to the men who had thus been obtained under false pretences. Dissatisfaction showed itself as soon as this was known among the colored troops. Still the blacks performed their duty, hoping that Congress would see that justice was done to them. The men refused to receive less than was their just due when the paymaster came round, as the following will show: —
“Hilton Head, S.C., Feb. 6,1864.
“Samuel Harrison, Chaplain of the Fifty-fourth Regiment Massachusetts Volunteers (colored troops), asks pay at the usual rate of chaplains, – one hundred dollars per month and two rations, which, he being of African descent, I decline paying, under Act of Congress, July 17, 1862, which authorizes the employment of persons of African descent in the army. The chaplain declines receiving any thing less.
“Paymaster, United-States Army.”
It was left, however, for Massachusetts to take the lead, both by her governor, and by her colored soldiers in the field, to urge upon the Congress and the Administration the black man’s claims. To the honor of John A. Andrew, the patriotic Chief Magistrate of the Bay State during the Rebellion, justice was demanded again and again. The following will show his feelings upon the subject: —
His Excellency Gov. Andrew, in a letter dated Executive Department, Boston, Aug. 24, and addressed to Mr. Frederick Johnson, an officer in the regiment, says, —
“I have this day received your letter of the 10th of August, and in reply desire, in the first place, to express to you the lively interest with which I have watched every step of the Fifty-fourth Regiment since it left Massachusetts, and the feelings of pride and admiration with which I have learned and read the accounts of the heroic conduct of the regiment in the attack upon Fort Wagner, when you and your brave soldiers so well proved their manhood, and showed themselves to be true soldiers of Massachusetts. As to the matter inquired about in your letter, you may rest assured that I shall not rest until you shall have secured all of your rights, and that I have no doubt whatever of ultimate success. I have no doubt, by law, you are entitled to the same pay as other soldiers; and, on the authority of the Secretary of War, I promised that you should be paid and treated in all respects like other soldiers of Massachusetts. Till this is done, I feel that my promise is dishonored by the Government. The whole difficulty arises from a misapprehension, the correction of which will no doubt be made as soon as I can get the subject fully examined by the Secretary of War.
“I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
“JOHN A. ANDREW,
“Governor of Massachusetts.”
The subjoined letter, from a soldier of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers, needs no explanation: —
“We are still anticipating the arrival of the day when the Government will do justice to the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Regiments, and pay us what is justly our due.
“We have fought like men; we have worked like men; we have been ready at every call of duty, and thus have proved ourselves to be men: but still we are refused the thirteen dollars per month.
“Oh, what a shame it is to be treated thus! Some of us have wives and little children, who are looking for succor and support from their husbands and fathers; but, alas! they look in vain. The answer to the question, ‘When shall we be able to assist them?’ is left wholly to the Congress of the United States.
“What will the families of those poor comrades of ours who fell at James’s Island, Fort Wagner, and Olus-tee, do? They must suffer; for their husbands and fathers have gone the way of all the earth. They have gone to join that number that John saw, and to rest at the right hand of God.
“Our hearts pine in bitter anguish when we look back to our loved ones at home, and we are compelled to shed many a briny tear. We have offered our lives a sacrifice for a country that has not the magnanimity to treat us as men. All that we ask is the rights of other soldiers, the liberty of other free men. If we cannot have these, give us an honorable discharge from the United-States service, and we will not ask for pay.
“We came here to fight for liberty and country, and not for money (we would scorn to do that); but they promised us, if we would enlist, they would give us thirteen dollars per month.
“It was all false. They only wanted to get the halter over our heads, and then say, ‘Get out if you can.’
“Sir, the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Regiments would sooner consent to fight for the whole three years, gratis, than to be put upon the footing of contrabands.
“It is not that we think ourselves any better than they; for we are not. We know that God ‘hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth;’ but we have enlisted as Massachusetts Volunteers, and we will not surrender that proud position, come what may.”
Sergt. William Walker, of Company A, Third South-Carolina colored troops, feeling that he and his associates were unjustly dealt with, persuaded his company to go to their captain’s tent, and stack their muskets, and refuse duty till paid. They did so, and the following was the result: —
CONDEMNED AND SHOT FOR MUTINY
“Sergt. William Walker, of Company A, Third South-Carolina colored troops, was yesterday killed, in accordance with the sentence of a court-martial. He had declared he would no longer remain a soldier for seven dollars per month, and had brought his company to stack their arms before their captain’s tent, refusing to do duty until they should be paid thirteen dollars a month, as had been agreed when they were enlisted by Col. Saxon. He was a smart soldier and an able man, dangerous as leader in a revolt. His last moments were attended by Chaplain Wilson, Twenty-fourth Massachusetts, and Chaplain Moore, of the Second South-Carolina colored troops. The execution took place at Jacksonville, Fla., in presence of the regiments there in garrison. He met his death unflinchingly. Out of eleven shots first fired, but one struck him. A reserve firing-party had been provided, and by these he was shot to death.
“The mutiny for which this man suffered death arose entirely out of the inconsistent and contradictory orders of the Paymaster and the Treasury Department at Washington.” —Beaufort (S.C.) Cor. Tribune.
The United-States Paymaster visited the Department three times, and offered to pay laborers’ wages, of ten dollars per month, to the Massachusetts Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth, which to a man they refused, saying, “‘Tis an insult, after promising us a soldier’s pay, and calling upon us to do a soldier’s duty (and faithfully has it been performed), to offer us the wages of a laborer, who is not called upon to peril his life for his country.” Finding that the Government had tried to force them to take this reduced pay, Massachusetts sent down agents to make up the difference to them out of the State Treasury, trusting, that, ere long, the country would acknowledge them as on an equality with the rest of the army. But, in a manner that must redound to their credit, they refused it. Said they, “‘Tis the principle, not the money, that we contend for: we will either be paid as soldiers, or fight without reward.” This drew down upon them the hatred of the other colored troops (for those regiments raised in the South were, promised but ten dollars, as the Government also took care of their families), and they had to bear much from them; but they did not falter. Standing by their expressed determination to have justice done them, they quietly performed their duties, only praying earnestly that every friend of theirs at the North would help the Government to see what a blot rests on its fair fame, – a betrayal of the trust reposed in them by the colored race.
When they rushed forward to save our army from being slaughtered at Olustee, it was the irrepressible negro humor, with something more than a dash of sarcasm, that prompted the battle-cry, “Three cheers for Old Massachusetts, and seven dollars a month!” (Three dollars were reserved by Government for clothes.)
Another soldier, a member of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, complains as follows: —
“Eleven months have now passed away, and still we are without our pay. How our families are to live and pay house-rent I know not. Uncle Sam has long wind, and expects as much of us as any soldiers in the field; but, if we cannot get any pay, what have we to stimulate us?
“To work the way this regiment has for day’s, weeks, nay, months, and yet to get no money to send to our wives, children, and mothers, who are now suffering, would cause the blush of shame to mantle the cheek of a cannibal, were he our paymaster.
“But we will suffer all the days of our appointed time with patience, only let us know that we are doing some good, make manifest, too, that we are making men (and women) of our race; let us know that prejudice, the curse of the North as slavery is the curse of the South, is breaking, slowly but surely; then we will suffer more, work faster, fight harder, and stand firmer than before.”
CHAPTER XXXIII. – BATTLE OF HONEY HILL, SOUTH CAROLINA
Union Troops. – The March. – The Enemy. – The Swamp. – Earthworks. – The Battle. – Desperate Fighting. – Great Bravery. – Col. Hartwell. – Fifty-fifth Massachusetts. – The Dying and the Dead. – The Retreat. – The Enemy’s Position. – Earthworks. – His Advantages. – The Union Forces. – The Blacks. – Our Army outnumbered by the Rebels. – Their concealed Batteries. – Skirmishing. – The Rebels retreat to their Base. – The Battle. – Great Bravery of our Men. – The Fifty-fifth Massachusetts saves the Army.
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 pine-lands, 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 this 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-Gen. J. G. Foster; Gen. John P. Hatch having the immediate command. The First Brigade, under Gen. 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 Col. A. S. Hartwell, was composed of the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, and Twenty-sixth and Thirty-second United-States (colored). Col. E. P. Hallowed, 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, and, retreating, led our army into the swamp, and up to his earthworks. So slight was the fighting as our troops approached the fort, that all the men seemed in high glee, especially the colored portion, which was making the woods ring with the following song: —
“Ho, boys, chains are breaking;
Bondsmen fast awaking;
Tyrant hearts are quaking;
Southward we are making.
Huzza! Huzza!
Our song shall be
Huzza! Huzza!
That we are free!
For Liberty we fight, —
Our own, our brother’s, right:
We’ll face Oppression’s blight
In Freedom’s earnest might.
Huzza! Huzza! &c.
For now as men we stand
Defending Fatherland:
With willing heart and hand,
In this great cause we band.
Huzza! Huzza! &c.
Our flag’s Red, White, and Blue:
We’ll bear it marching through,
With rifles swift and true,
And bayonets gleaming too.
Huzza! Huzza! &c.
Now for the Union cheers,
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
For home and loved ones tears,
For rebel foes no fears.
Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
And joy that conflict nears.
Huzza! Huzza!
Our song shall be
Huzza! Huzza!
That we are free!
No more the driver’s horn
Awakes us in the morn;
But battle’s music borne,
Our manhood shall adorn.
Huzza! Huzza! &c.
No more for trader’s gold
Shall those we love be sold;
Nor crushed be manhood bold
In slavery’s dreaded fold.
Huzza! Huzza! &c.
But each and all be free
As singing-bird in tree,
Or winds that whistling flee
O’er mountain, vale, and sea.
Huzza! Huzza! &c.
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. An eyewitness of the battle gives the following account of it: —
“The Thirty-second United-States colored troops were ordered to charge the rebel fort as soon as we 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 Col. Hartwell. The fire became very hot; but still the regiment did not waver, – the line merely quivered. Capt. Goraud, of Gen. Foster’s staff, whose gallantry was conspicuous all day, rode up just as Col. Hartwell was wounded in the hand, and advised him to retire; but the colonel declined.
“Col. 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.
“Capt. 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 Col. 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 Col. 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, Lieut. Ellsworth, and one man of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts, came to the rescue of Col. Hartwell, and in spite of his remonstrance that they should leave him to his Tate, 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 round, 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. Countercharges 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 have 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 Lieut. – Col. 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. The following account of the battle is from “The Savannah Republican v (rebel), published a few days after the fight: —
“The negroes, as usual, formed the advance, and had nearly reached the creek, when our batteries opened upon them down the road with a terrible volley of spherical case. This threw them into temporary confusion; but the entire force, estimated at five thousand, was quickly restored to order, and thrown into a line of battle parallel with our own, up and down the margin of the swamp. Thus the battle raged from eleven in the morning till dark. The enemy’s centre and left were most exposed, and suffered terribly. Their right was posted behind an old dam that ran through the swamp, and it maintained its position till the close of the fight. Our left was very much exposed, and an attempt was once or twice made by the enemy to turn it by advancing through the swamp, and up the hill; but they were driven back without a prolonged struggle.
“The centre and left of the enemy fought; with a desperate earnestness. Several attempts were made to charge our batteries, and many got nearly across the swamp, but were, in every instance, forced back by the galling fire poured into them from our lines. We made a visit to the field the day following, and found the road literally strewn with their dead. Some eight or ten bodies were floating in the water where the road crosses; and in a ditch on the roadside, just beyond, we saw six negroes piled one on top of the other. A colonel of one of the negro regiments, with his horse, was killed while fearlessly leading his men across the creek in a charge.
“With that exception, all the dead and wounded officers were carried off by the enemy during the night. Many traces were left where they were dragged from the woods to the road, and thrown into ambulances or carts. We counted some sixty or seventy bodies in the space of about an acre, many of which were horribly mutilated by shells; some with half their heads shot off, and others completely disembowelled. The artillery was served with great accuracy, and wo doubt if any battle-field of the war presents such havoc among the trees and shrubbery. Immense pines and other growth were cut short off or torn into shreds.”
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 Capt. Crane, the Adjutant, is killed, and falls from his horse near his colonel. Lieut. Boynton, while urging his men, is killed. Lieut. Hill is wounded, but still keeps his place. Capts. Soule and Woodward are both wounded, and yet keep their command. The blood is running freely from the mouth of Lieut. Jewett; but he does not leave his company. Sergeant-major Trotter is wounded, but still fights. Sergt. 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 has 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.
