Army Life in a Black Regiment | Page 7

our faith in the pledges of the United States Government
which was foolishness!
Another drawback is that some of the white soldiers delight in
frightening the women on the plantations with doleful tales of plans for
putting us in the front rank in all battles, and such silly talk,--the object
being perhaps, to prevent our being employed on active service at all.
All these considerations they feel precisely as white men would,--no
less, no more; and it is the comparative freedom from such unfavorable
influences which makes the Florida men seem more bold and manly, as
they undoubtedly do. To-day General Saxton has returned from
Fernandina with seventy-six recruits, and the eagerness of the captains
to secure them was a sight to see. Yet they cannot deny that some of the
very best men in the regiment are South Carolinians.
December 3, 1862.--7 P.M.
What a life is this I lead! It is a dark, mild, drizzling evening, and as the
foggy air breeds sand-flies, so it calls out melodies and strange antics
from this mysterious race of grown-up children with whom my lot is
cast. All over the camp the lights glimmer in the tents, and as I sit at my
desk in the open doorway, there come mingled sounds of stir and glee.
Boys laugh and shout,--a feeble flute stirs somewhere in some tent, not
an officer's,--a drum throbs far away in another,--wild kildeer-plover
flit and wail above us, like the haunting souls of dead
slave-masters,--and from a neighboring cook-fire comes the
monotonous sound of that strange festival, half pow-wow, half
prayer-meeting, which they know only as a "shout." These fires are
usually enclosed in a little booth, made neatly of palm-leaves and
covered in at top, a regular native African hut, in short, such as is
pictured in books, and such as I once got up from dried palm-leaves for

a fair at home. This hut is now crammed with men, singing at the top of
their voices, in one of their quaint, monotonous, endless,
negro-Methodist chants, with obscure syllables recurring constantly,
and slight variations interwoven, all accompanied with a regular
drumming of the feet and clapping of the hands, like castanets. Then
the excitement spreads: inside and outside the enclosure men begin to
quiver and dance, others join, a circle forms, winding monotonously
round some one in the centre; some "heel and toe" tumultuously, others
merely tremble and stagger on, others stoop and rise, others whirl,
others caper sideways, all keep steadily circling like dervishes;
spectators applaud special strokes of skill; my approach only enlivens
the scene; the circle enlarges, louder grows the singing, rousing shouts
of encouragement come in, half bacchanalian, half devout, "Wake 'em,
brudder!" "Stan' up to 'em, brudder!"--and still the ceaseless drumming
and clapping, in perfect cadence, goes steadily on. Suddenly there
comes a sort of snap, and the spell breaks, amid general sighing and
laughter. And this not rarely and occasionally, but night after night,
while in other parts of the camp the soberest prayers and exhortations
are proceeding sedately.
A simple and lovable people, whose graces seem to come by nature,
and whose vices by training. Some of the best superintendents confirm
the first tales of innocence, and Dr. Zachos told me last night that on
his plantation, a sequestered one, "they had absolutely no vices." Nor
have these men of mine yet shown any worth mentioning; since I took
command I have heard of no man intoxicated, and there has been but
one small quarrel. I suppose that scarcely a white regiment in the army
shows so little swearing. Take the "Progressive Friends" and put them
in red trousers, and I verily believe they would fill a guard-house
sooner than these men. If camp regulations are violated, it seems to be
usually through heedlessness. They love passionately three things
besides their spiritual incantations; namely, sugar, home, and tobacco.
This last affection brings tears to their eyes, almost, when they speak of
their urgent need of pay; they speak of then" last-remembered quid as if
it were some deceased relative, too early lost, and to be mourned
forever. As for sugar, no white man can drink coffee after they have
sweetened it to their liking.
I see that the pride which military life creates may cause the plantation

trickeries to diminish. For instance, these men make the most admirable
sentinels. It is far harder to pass the camp lines at night than in the
camp from which I came; and I have seen none of that disposition to
connive at the offences of members of one's own company which is so
troublesome among white soldiers. Nor are they lazy, either about work
or drill; in all respects they seem better material for soldiers than I had
dared to hope.
There is one