The Black Civil War Soldier

The Declaration of Independence inspired movements that crossed the world from 1776 onward. But at home in the 19th century, the words “all men are created equal” were once again tested within the United States. Both sides of the American Civil War contended for the ideals of the Declaration, but, unlike in an earlier age, this war was photographed.  What would that mean for the public's perceptions and memory of this conflict and its legacy?  

In The Black Civil War Soldier: A Visual History of Conflict and Citizenship, author Deborah Willis examines the lesser-known stories and lives of Black soldiers, sailors, and other participants in the Civil War through photographs, letters, and first-hand accounts of their service building a more perfect union.  

Excerpt

On, December 21, 1860, as a direct consequence of Abraham Lincoln’s election as president, the state of South Carolina formally seceded from the Union- an act that ignited the flame that would become the War between the States. Seven states joined South Carolina to form the Confederacy; four more states seceded after the war began in April 1861. President Lincoln called for seventy-five thousand new troops for the Union army; however African American men were excluded from this initial call-up. Many who eventually fought for the Union had to protest to the government to allow them to serve. Before the war, a large number of free black people- journalists, farmers, religious leaders, abolitionist-had advocated for black participation in the military. They understood that it was vital for black people to be engaged fully and that armed service provided a direct route to that goal. Even tough that call did not come until 1863, the inclusion of black servicemen had a direct impact on everyone.   

[....] 

The war formally started on April 12, 1861, with that attack on Fort Sumter. Lincoln realized that the Confederate’s next target would be the Capitol, the seat of the federal government and the Union itself.  Seventy-five thousand men- the maximum number the Constitution allowed federal authorities seeking to put down a rebellion-were formerly call on April 15, 1861, by the secretary of war, for a ninety-day enlistment in the Union army. Each state’s armed forces provided its quota, and the troops moved south to defend the nation. On April 18, 1861, five volunteer militia companies form Pennsylvania marched through the city of Baltimore on the way to defend the Capitol in Washington, DC. These soldiers were attacked by a mob of local citizens who were sympathetic to the Confederate cause. A sixty-five-year-old black soldier, Nicholas Biddle (ca. 1796-1876), the apparent target of the attack, was hit in the face with a brick, and someone in the crowd yelled derogatory epithets because he was a black man wearing a uniform. Bloodied but not otherwise seriously injured, Biddle was helped to his feet be white soldiers and continued to march to Washington, DC, where the regiment camped and waited for others. Biddle was reportedly the first man to shed blood during the Civil War. Four men from Pennsylvania were also attacked.  

When the soldiers arrived at Camden Station [in Baltimore], violence erupted. They were pelted with stones, bricks, bottles, and whatever else. the vehement mob could find; some were even clubbed and knocked down by a few well-landed punches. A few more determined Confederate sympathizers lunged at the unarmed Pennsylvanians with knives and drawn pistols. "Pow-der had been sprinkled by the mob on the floor of the [railroad] cars," wrote First Defender Heber S. Thompson (1840-1911) of Pottsville, "in the hope that a soldier carelessly striking a match in the darkened interior of the car might blow himself and his comrades to perdition." For the idealistic volunteers from Pottsville, Allentown, Reading, and Lewistown, it was a trying ordeal and one that diminished the romanticized notion of the glories of soldiering. Soon, all the men were boarded and the train sped south toward Washington. Of all the injuries sustained during the harrowing ordeal, the most serious was Biddle's. 

Because he was Black, Biddle was prevented from being mustered in as a soldier. Not to be deterred, however, he [had] marched off to war as the orderly (an attendant to an officer) of Captain James Wren (1825-1901), the commanding officer of the Washington Artillery. Biddle had been associated with the company since its formation in 1840 and was so highly regarded by Wren and the members of the Washington Artillery that he was considered one of their own and even permitted to wear the company's uniform. 

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When connected to photographs, the letters not only tell us what people in the nineteenth century thought about the war, but help us imagine the period, by illustrating the personal triumphs and defeats that occur at historical events.  

A letter from Fredrick Douglass’s oldest son Lewis to his fiancé Helen “Amelia Loguen, is particularly striking.  He describes the injuries of soldiers from her hometown as he reassures her about his own status. Amelia was the daughter of the Reverend Jermain Loguen, a Syracuse-based conductor on the Underground Railroad. Lewis Henry Douglass was a soldier in the Civil War with the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry-a sergeant major, the highest rank an African American could hold. He and Helen exchanged photographs of each other and letters about the war and specifically Morris Island. 

My Dear Amelia  

I have been in two fights, and am unhurt. I am about to go in another I believe to-night. Our men fought well on both occasions. The last was desperate, we charged that terrible battery on Morris Island known as Fort Wagoner, and were repulsed with a loss of 3 killed and wounded. I escaped unhurt from amidst that perfect hail of shot and shell. It was terrible. I need not particularize, the papers will give a better account than I have time to give. My thoughts are with you often, you are as dear as ever, be good enough to remember it, as I [have] no doubt you will. As I said before, we are on the eve of another fight, and I am very busy and have just snatched a moment to write you. I must necessarily be brief. Should I fall in the next fight, killed or wounded, I hope to fall with my face to the foe. 

If I survive I shall write you a long letter. DeForrest of your city is wounded, George Washington is missing, Jacob Carter is missing, Chas Reason wounded, Chas Whiting, Chas Creamer all wounded. The above are in hospital. 

This regiment has established its reputation as a fighting regiment, not a man flinched, though it was a trying time. 

Men fell all around me. A shell would explode and clear a space of twenty feet, our men would close up again, but it was no use-we had to retreat, which was a very hazardous undertaking. How I got out of that fight alive I cannot tell, but am here. My Dear girl I hope again to see you. I must bid you farewell should I be killed. Remember if I die, I die in a good cause. I wish we had a hundred thousand colored troops, we would put an end to this war. 

Good Bye to all. Write soon, 

Your own loving Lewis