Historical Romance of the American Negro

by Charles Henry Fowler

[CHAPTER VIII.]

The Fight at Marion, Tennessee—The Battle of Nashville—Success of the Northern Armies—Massacre at Fort Pillow—The Rebels Refuse to Exchange Colored Soldiers—Our Defeat at Olustee—Eighty Thousand Northern Prisoners Perishing in Southern Prisons—The Mine at Petersburg—The Wealth of the South—A Soldier's Song.

When we consider that there were 200,000 or more colored men in the field, and that they were engaged in fights, large and small, somewhere or other every day all over the far-spreading South, where all did so well and received the praises of the brave and true, it seems to me ridiculous at this time of day to look back and select particular actions wherein they distinguished themselves. But I am not aware that I can do any better than many worthy writers have done before me. There was one circumstance, however, or rather course of similar circumstances that struck those of us at home who closely followed the war as detailed by private letters and dispatches in the public newspapers, which was that on many memorable occasions the colored regiments saved the defeated and flying white troops from complete destruction. And white men were thankful enough to be saved by our men, and who could blame them? They were both in the field to assist one another in every possible way. I am not claiming more for the colored troops than belongs to them; but let them have their rights. No just man will give them less.

It was in the beginning of December, 1864, that a regular battle took place near Marion, Tennessee, for the destruction of the Marion Salt Works. The battle commenced in the morning, and fluctuated backwards and forwards the greater part of the day. General Stoneman, who commanded the Federals, at last found himself badly beaten by the Confederates, under General Breckenridge. The national troops were in a desperate condition, and nothing but destruction stared them in the face. There was no time to be lost. The fate of the Northern army was trembling in the scales. General Stoneman at once ordered up the black troops, whom he divided into three columns. He placed General Burbridge at the head of one column, gave another to Col. Wade, and the third to General Brisbin.

Colonel Wade led the right column, General Burbridge the left, and General Brisbin the centre. Wade got off first, and sailed into the rebels in gallant style. Burbridge piled his overcoat on the ground, drew his sword, and led his column forward like lions. Most of the officers and all the men were on foot. Wade's horse was soon shot, after which he led his men on foot, and they were the first to strike the Confederate line, who fired time after time, but Wade's column advanced rapidly for a hand-to-hand fight with the rebels. They went through the Confederate lines like an iron wedge, when the enemy broke, turned and ran. Burbridge hit with all his might on the left, and Brisbin's men in the centre also covered themselves with glory. Men never did better in this world. When their guns were empty, they clubbed their foes with the butt ends, many of the latter jumping fully fifteen feet down the opposite side of the hill to get out of the way of our infuriated men! The night was now coming on! Sauve qui peut! The rebels fled in the darkness, and ultimately took the North Carolina road, fleeing over the mountains. Thus ended the grand struggle for the salt works at Marion, Tennessee. Our troops now advanced, nor stopped till their destruction was complete.

We all know that it must go very hard, indeed, with any people when they have got no salt. Poor things! What could they do without salt? So these coveted salt works at Marion were destroyed by the Union army, but not till the army had been first rescued from destruction by the colored troops who were attached to the service there.

I don't know how it happened, but somehow or other the Northern generals had a great deal of confidence in colored men, whom they often put aside, and held in reserve in case of the direst necessity in the end, and when the worst might come to the worst. It was then that our faithful fellows were called forwards to save the armies, and they saved them, too, standing like walls of adamant between the white Unionists and their terrible foes. Our brave boys often did as well elsewhere as they did at Marion.

It used to be the grand hue and cry in the beginning of the war that if colored men were enlisted into the armies of the Union, they would not fight like their white brothers! Even we ladies, who surely were never intended to fight in the ranks—we ladies living far away up in the North at Buffalo, used to laugh at the whole thing as a joke, for certainly everybody knew better. But that miserable parrot cry ceased after a while, and was no more heard of.

Another grievance in the beginning of the enlistment of colored troops was to offer them smaller pay than white men. Some of our regiments absolutely refused to take less; others took what was offered. But as a general thing, between Congress and the States themselves, all things were put right at last, and justice was done by making things about even. But whether right or wrong the troops never refused to do their duty. It certainly was a shameful and shabby affair to offer them less, because many of them certainly were superior to their white brothers in the field. The color of the skin was a poor, miserable reason for giving them less.