Page 16 of What Answer?


  CHAPTER XVI

  "_Ye died to live._"

  BOKER

  The next day Jim was recounting this scene to some men in camp,describing it with feeling and earnestness, and winding up the narrationby the declaration, "and the first man that says a nigger ain't as goodas a white man, and a damn'd sight better'n those graybacks over yonder,well"--

  "Well, suppose he does?"--interrupted one of the men.

  "O, nothing, Billy Dodge,--only he and I'll have a few words to pass onthe subject, that's all"; doubling up his fist and examining the bigcords and muscles on it with curious and well-satisfied interest.

  "See here, Billy!" put in one of his comrades, "don't you go to havingany argument with Jim,--he's a dabster with his tongue, Jim is."

  "Yes, and a devil with his fist," growled a sullen-looking fellow.

  "Just so,"--assented Jim,--"when a blackguard's round to feel it."

  "Well, Given, do you like the darkies well enough to take off your capto them?" queried a sergeant standing near.

  "What are you driving at now, hey?"

  "O, not much; but you'll have to play second fiddle to them to-night.The General thinks they're as good as the rest of us, and a little bitbetter, and has sent over for the Fifty-fourth to lead the charge thisevening. What have you got to say to that?"

  "Bull, for them! that's what I've got to say. Any objection?" lookinground him.

  "Nary objec!" "They deserve it!" "They fought like tigers over on JamesIsland!" "I hope they'll pepper the rebs well!"--"It ought to be a freefight, and no quarter, with them!" "Yes, for they get none if they'retaken!" "Go in, Fifty-fourth!" These and the like exclamations brokefrom the men on all sides, with absolute heartiness and good will.

  "It seems to me," sneered a dapper little officer who had been lookingand listening, "that the niggers have plenty of advocates here."

  Two or three of the men looked at Jim. "You may bet your pile on that,Major!" said he, with becoming gravity; "we love our friends, and wehate our enemies, and it's the dark-complected fellows that are thefirst down this way."

  "Pretty-looking set of friends!"

  "Well, they ain't much to look at, that's a fact; but I never heard ofanybody saying you was to turn a cold shoulder on a helper because hewas homely, except,"--this as the Major was walking away, "except asecesh, or a fool, or one of little Mac's staff officers."

  "Homely? what are you gassing about?" objected a little fellow fromMassachusetts; "the Fifty-fourth is as fine-looking a set of men asshoulder rifles anywhere in the army."

  "Jack's sensitive about the credit of his State," chaffed a big Ohioan."He wants to crack up these fellows, seeing they're his comrades. I say,Johnny, are all the white men down your way such little shavers as you?"

  "For a fellow that's all legs and no brains, you talk too much,"answered Johnny. "Have any of you seen the Fifty-fourth?"

  "I haven't." "Nor I." "Yes, I saw them at Port Royal." "And I." "And I."

  "Well, the Twenty-third was at Beaufort while they were there, and Iused to go over to their camp and talk with them. I never saw fellows soin earnest; they seemed ready to die on the instant, if they could helptheir people, or walk into the slaveholders any, first. They were justfull of it; and yet it seemed absurd to call 'em a black regiment; theywere pretty much all colors, and some of 'em as white as I am."

  "Lord," said Jim, "that's not saying much, you've got a smutty face."

  The men laughed, Jack with the rest, as he dabbed at his heated,powder-stained countenance. "Come," said he, "that's no fair,--they'reas white as I am, then, when I've just scrubbed; and some of them arefirst-raters, too; none of your rag, tag, and bobtail. There's one Iremember, a man from Philadelphia, who walks round like a prince. He's agentleman, every inch,--and he's rich,--and about the handsomest-lookingspecimen of humanity I've set eyes upon for an age."

  "Rich, is he? how do you know he's rich?"

  "I was over one night with Captain Ware, and he and this man got totalking about the pay for the Fifty-fourth. The government promised themregular pay, you see, and then when it got 'em refused to stick to itsagreement, and they would take no less, so they haven't seen a dimesince they enlisted; and it's a darned mean piece of business, that's myopinion of the matter, and I don't care who knows it," looking roundbelligerently.

  "Come, Bantam, don't crow so loud," interrupted the big Ohioan;"nobody's going to fight you on that statement; it's a shame, and nomistake. But what about your paragon?"

  "I'll tell you. The Captain was trying to convince him that they hadbetter take what they could get till they got the whole, and that, afterall, it was but a paltry difference. 'But,' said the man, 'it's not themoney, though plenty of us are poor enough to make that an item. It'sthe badge of disgrace, the stigma attached, the dishonor to thegovernment. If it were only two cents we wouldn't submit to it, for thedifference would be made because we are colored, and we're not going tohelp degrade our own people, not if we starve for it. Besides, it's ourflag, and our government now, and we've got to defend the honor of bothagainst any assailants, North or South,--whether they're RepublicanCongressmen or rebel soldiers.' The Captain looked puzzled at that, andasked what he meant. 'Why,' said he, 'the United States governmentenlisted us as soldiers. Being such, we don't intend to disgrace theservice by accepting the pay of servants.'"

  "That's the kind of talk," bawled Jim from a fence-rail upon which hewas balancing. "I'd like to have a shake of that fellow's paw. What'shis name, d'ye know?"

  "Ercildoune."

  "Hey?"

  "Ercildoune."

  "Jemime! Ercildoune,--from Philadelphia, you say?"

  "Yes,--do you know him?"

  "Well, no,--I don't exactly know him, but I think I know something abouthim. His pa's rich as a nob, if it's the one I mean,"--and then finishedsotto voce, "it's Mrs. Surrey's brother, sure as a gun!"

  "Well, he ought to be rich, if he ain't. As we, that's the Captain andme, were walking away, the Captain said to one of the officers of theFifty-fourth who'd been listening to the talk, 'It's easy for that manto preach self-denial for a principle. He's rich, I've heard. It don'thurt him any; but it's rather selfish to hold some of the rest up tohis standard; and I presume that such a man as he has no end ofinfluence with them!'

  "'As he should,' said his officer. 'Ercildoune has brains enough tostock a regiment, and refinement, and genius, and cultivation that wouldassure him the highest position in society or professional life anywhereout of America. He won't leave it though; for in spite of its wrongs tohim he sees its greatness and goodness,--says that it is _his_, and thatit is to be saved, it and all its benefits, for Americans,--no matterwhat the color of their skin,--of whom he is one. He sees plain enoughthat this war is going to break the slave's chain, and ultimately thestronger chain of prejudice that binds his people to the grindstone, andhe's full of enthusiasm for it, accordingly; though I'm free to confess,the magnanimity of these colored men from the North who fight, on faith,for the government, is to me something amazing.'"

  "'Why,' said the Captain,--'why, any more from the North than from theSouth?'"

  "Why? the blacks down here can at least fight their ex-masters, and payoff some old scores; but for a man from the North who is free already,and so has nothing to gain in that way,--whose rights as a man and acitizen are denied,--for such a man to enlist and to fight, withoutbounty, pay, honor, or promotion,--without the promise of gaininganything whatever for himself,--condemned to a thankless task on the oneside,--to a merciless death or even worse fate on the other,--facingall this because he has faith that the great republic will ultimately beredeemed; that some hands will gather in the harvest of this bloodysowing, though he be lying dead under it,--I tell you, the more I see ofthese men, the more I know of them, the more am I filled with admirationand astonishment.

  "Now here's this one of whom we are talking, Ercildoune, born with asilver spoon in his mouth: instead of eating with it, in peace andelegance, in some Europ
ean home, look at him here. You said somethingabout his lack of self-sacrifice. He's doing 'what he is from aprinciple; and beyond that, it's no wonder the men care for him: he hasspent a small fortune on the most needy of them since theyenlisted,--finding out which of them have families, or any one dependenton them, and helping them in the finest and most delicate way possible.There are others like him here, and it's a fortunate circumstance, forthere's not a man but would suffer, himself,--and, what's more, let hisfamily suffer at home,--before he'd give up the idea for which they arecontending now."

  "'Well, good luck to them!' said the Captain as we came away; and so sayI," finished Jack.

  "And I,"--"And I," responded some of the men. "We must see this man whenthey come over here."

  "I'll bet you a shilling," said Jim, pulling out a bit of currency,"that he'll make his mark to-night."

  "Lend us the change, Given, and I'll take you up," said one of the men.

  The others laughed. "He don't mean it," said Jim: which, indeed, hedidn't. Nobody seemed inclined to run any risks by betting on the otherside of so likely a proposition.

  This talk took place late in the afternoon, near the head-quarters ofthe commanding General; and the men directly scattered to prepare forthe work of the evening: some to clean a bayonet, or furbish up a rifle;others to chat and laugh over the chances and to lay plans for themorrow,--the morrow which was for them never to dawn on earth; and yetothers to sit down in their tents and write letters to the dear ones athome, making what might, they knew, be a final-farewell,--for the fightimpending was to be a fierce one,--or to read a chapter in a little bookcarried from some quiet fireside, balancing accounts perchance, inanticipation of the call of the Great Captain to come up higher.

  Through the whole afternoon there had been a tremendous cannonading ofthe fort from the gunboats and the land forces: the smooth, regularengineer lines were broken, and the fresh-sodded embankments torn androughened by the unceasing rain of shot and shell.

  About six o'clock there came moving up the island, over the burningsands and under the burning sky, a stalwart, splendid-appearing set ofmen, who looked equal to any daring, and capable of any heroism; menwhom nothing could daunt and few things subdue. Now, weary,travel-stained, with the mire and the rain of a two days' tramp;weakened by the incessant strain and lack of food, having taken nothingfor forty-eight hours save some crackers and cold coffee; with gaps intheir ranks made by the death of comrades who had fallen in battle but alittle time before,--under all these disadvantages, it was plain to beseen of what stuff these men were made, and for what work they wereready.

  As this regiment, the famous Fifty-fourth, came up the island to takeits place at the head of the storming party in the assault on Wagner, itwas cheered from all sides by the white soldiers, who recognized andhonored the heroism which it had already shown, and of which it was soonto give such new and sublime proof.

  The evening, or rather the afternoon, was a lurid and sultry one. Greatmasses of clouds, heavy and black, were piled in the western sky,fringed here and there by an angry red, and torn by vivid streams oflightning. Not a breath of wind shook the leaves or stirred the high,rank grass by the water-side; a portentous and awful stillness filledthe air,--the stillness felt by nature before a devastating storm.Quiet, with the like awful and portentous calm, the black regiment,headed by its young, fair-haired, knightly colonel, marched to itsdestined place and action.

  When within about six hundred yards of the fort it was halted at thehead of the regiments already stationed, and the line of battle formed.The prospect was such as might daunt the courage of old and well-triedveterans, but these soldiers of a few weeks seemed but impatient to takethe odds, and to make light of impossibilities. A slightly risingground, raked by a murderous fire, to within a little distance of thebattery; a ditch holding three feet of water; a straight lift ofparapet, thirty feet high; an impregnable position, held by a desperateand invincible foe.

  Here the men were addressed in a few brief and burning words by theirheroic commander. Here they were besought to glorify their whole race bythe lustre of their deeds; here their faces shone with a look whichsaid, "Though men, we are ready to do deeds, to achieve triumphs, worthythe gods!" here the word of command was given:--

  "We are ordered and expected to take Battery Wagner at the point of thebayonet. Are you ready?"

  "Ay, ay, sir! ready!" was the answer.

  And the order went pealing down the line, "Ready! Close ranks! Chargebayonets! Forward! Double-quick, march!"--and away they went, under ascattering fire, in one compact line till within one hundred feet of thefort, when the storm of death broke upon them. Every gun belched forthits great shot and shell; every rifle whizzed out its sharp-singing,death-freighted messenger. The men wavered not for aninstant;--forward,--forward they went; plunged into the ditch; wadedthrough the deep water, no longer of muddy hue, but stained crimson withtheir blood; and commenced to climb the parapet. The foremost line fell,and then the next, and the next. The ground was strewn with the wrecksof humanity, scattered prostrate, silent, where they fell,--or rollingunder the very feet of the living comrades who swept onward to filltheir places. On, over the piled-up mounds of dead and dying, of woundedand slain, to the mouth of the battery; seizing the guns; bayoneting thegunners at their posts; planting their flag and struggling around it;their leader on the walls, sword in hand, his blue eyes blazing, hisfair face aflame, his clear voice calling out, "Forward, my braveboys!"--then plunging into the hell of battle before him. Forward itwas. They followed him, gathered about him, gained an angle of the fort,and fought where he fell, around his prostrate body, over his peacefulheart,--shielding its dead silence by their living, pulsatingones,--till they, too, were stricken down; then hacked, hewn, battered,mangled, heroic, yet overcome, the remnant was beaten back.

  Ably sustained by their supporters, Anglo-African and Anglo-Saxon viedtogether to carry off the palm of courage and glory. All the world knowsthe last fought with heroism sublime: all the world forgets this andthem in contemplating the deeds and the death of their compatriots. SaidNapoleon at Austerlitz to a young Russian officer, overwhelmed withshame at yielding his sword, "Young man, be consoled: those who areconquered by my soldiers may still have titles to glory." To say that onthat memorable night the last were surpassed by the first is still toleave ample margin on which to write in glowing characters the record oftheir deeds.

  As the men were clambering up the parapet their color-sergeant was shotdead, the colors trailing stained and wet in the dust beside him.Ercildoune, who was just behind, sprang forward, seized the staff fromhis dying hand, and mounted with it upward. A ball struck his right arm,yet ere it could fall shattered by his side, his left hand caught theflag and carried it onward. Even in the mad sweep of assault and deaththe men around him found breath and time to hurrah, and those behind himpressed more gallantly forward to follow such a lead. He kept in hisplace, the colors flying,--though faint with loss of blood and wrungwith agony,--up the slippery steep; up to the walls of the fort; on thewall itself, planting the flag where the men made that brief, splendidstand, and melted away like snow before furnace-heat. Here a bayonetthrust met him and brought him down, a great wound in his brave breast,but he did not yield; dropping to his knees, pressing his unbroken armupon the gaping wound,--bracing himself against a dead comrade,--thecolors still flew; an inspiration to the men about him; a defiance tothe foe.

  At last when the shattered ranks fell back, sullenly and slowlyretreating, it was seen by those who watched him,--men lying for threehundred rods around in every form of wounded suffering,--that he waspainfully working his way downward, still holding aloft the flag, bentevidently on saving it, and saving it as flag had rarely, if ever, beensaved before.

  Some of the men had crawled, some had been carried, some hastily caughtup and helped by comrades to a sheltered tent out of range of the fire;a hospital tent, they called it, if anything could bear that name whichwas but a place where men could lie to suffer
and expire, without abandage, a surgeon, or even a drop of cooling water to moisten parchedand dying lips. Among these was Jim. He had a small field-glass in hispocket, and forgot or ignored his pain in his eager interest of watchingthrough this the progress of the man and the flag, and reportingaccounts to his no less eager companions. Black soldiers and white werealike mad with excitement over the deed; and fear lest the colors whichhad not yet dipped should at last bite the ground.

  Now and then he paused at some impediment: it was where the dead anddying were piled so thickly as to compel him to make a detour. Now andthen he rested a moment to press his arm tighter against his torn andopen breast. The rain fell in such torrents, the evening shadows weregathering so thickly, that they could scarcely trace his course, longbefore it was ended.

  Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself onward,--step by step down thehill, inch by inch across the ground,--to the door of the hospital; andthen, while dying eyes brightened,--dying hands and even shatteredstumps were thrown into the air,--in brief, while dying men held backtheir souls from the eternities to cheer him,--gasped out, "I did--butdo--my duty, boys,--and the dear--old flag--never once--touched theground,"--and then, away from the reach and sight of its foes, in themidst of its defenders, who loved and were dying for it, the flag atlast fell.

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, other troops had gone up to the encounter; other regimentsstrove to win what these men had failed to gain; and through the night,and the storm, and the terrific reception, did their gallantendeavor--in vain.

  * * * * *

  The next day a flag of truce went up to beg the body of the heroic youngchief who had so led that marvellous assault. It came back without him.A ditch, deep and wide, had been dug; his body, and those of twenty-twoof his men found dead upon and about him, flung into it in one commonheap and the word sent back was, "We have buried him with his niggers."

  It was well done. The fair, sweet face and gallant breast lie peacefullyenough under their stately monument of ebony.

  It was well done. What more fitting close of such a life,--what fatemore welcome to him who had fought with them, had loved, and believed inthem, had led them to death,--than to lie with them when they died?

  It was well done. Slavery buried these men, black and white,together,--black and white in a common grave. Let Liberty see to it,then, that black and white be raised together in a life better than theold.

 
Anna E. Dickinson's Novels