The Colored Regulars in the United States Army

by T. G. Steward

Our regiment was at the time stationed as follows: Headquarters, four companies and the band at Fort Missoula; two companies at Fort Harrison, near Helena, and two companies at Fort Assinniboine, all in Montana. The arrangements contemplated moving the regiment in two sections, one composed of the Missoula troops to go over the Northern Pacific Railroad, the other of the Fort Harrison and Fort Assinniboine troops to go over the Great Northern Railroad, all to arrive in St. Paul about the same time.

On the 10th of April, Easter Sunday, the battalion at Fort Missoula marched out of post quite early in the morning, and at Bitter Root Station took the cars for their long journey. Officers and men were all furnished sleeping accommodations on the train. Arriving in the city of Missoula, for the gratification of the citizens and perhaps to avoid strain on the bridge crossing the Missoula River, the men were disembarked from the train and marched through the principal streets to the depot, the citizens generally turning out to see them off. Many were the compliments paid officers and men by the good people of Missoula, none perhaps more pleasing than that furnished by a written testimonial to the regret experienced at the departure of the regiment, signed by all the ministers of the city.

As the Twenty-fifth was the first regiment to move in the preparation for war, its progress from Montana to Chickamauga was a marked event, attracting the attention of both the daily and illustrated press. All along the route they were greeted with enthusiastic crowds, who fully believed the war with Spain had begun. In St. Paul, in Chicago, in Terre Haute, in Nashville, and in Chattanooga the crowds assembled to greet the black regulars who were first to bear forward the Starry Banner of Union and Freedom against a foreign foe. What could be more significant, or more fitting, than that these black soldiers, drilled up to the highest standard of modern warfare, cool, brave and confident, themselves a proof of American liberty, should be called first to the front in a war against oppression? Their martial tread and fearless bearing proclaimed what the better genius of our great government meant for all men dwelling beneath the protection of its honored flag.

As the Twenty-fifth Infantry was the first regiment to leave its station, so six companies of it were first to go into camp on the historic grounds of Chickamauga. Two companies were separated from the regiment at Chattanooga and forwarded to Key West where they took station under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel A.S. Daggett. The remaining six companies, under command of Colonel A.S. Burt, were conducted by General Boynton to a choice spot on the grounds, where they pitched camp, their tents being the first erected in that mobilization of troops which preceded the Cuban invasion, and theirs being really the first camp of the war.

Soon came the Ninth Cavalry, the Tenth Cavalry and the Twenty-fourth Infantry. While these were assembling there arrived on the ground also many white regiments, cavalry, artillery and infantry, and it was pleasing to see the fraternity that prevailed among black and white regulars. This was especially noticeable between the Twenty-fifth and Twelfth. In brigading the regiments no attention whatever was paid to the race or color of the men. The black infantry regiments were placed in two brigades, and the black cavalry likewise, and they can be followed through the fortunes of the war in the official records by their regimental numbers. During their stay in Chickamauga, and at Key West and Tampa, the Southern newspapers indulged in considerable malicious abuse of colored soldiers, and some people of this section made complaints of their conduct, but the previous good character of the regiments and the violent tone of the accusations, taken together with the well-known prejudices of the Southern people, prevented their complaints from having very great weight. The black soldiers held their place in the army chosen for the invasion of Cuba, and for that purpose were soon ordered to assemble in Tampa.

From the 10th of April, when the war movement began with the march of the Twenty-fifth Infantry out of its Montana stations, until June 14th, when the Army of Invasion cleared Tampa for Cuba—not quite two months—the whole energy of the War Department had been employed in preparing the army for the work before it. The beginning of the war is officially given as April 21st, from which time onward it was declared a state of war existed between Spain and the United States, but warlike movements on our side were begun fully ten days earlier, and begun with a grim definiteness that presaged much more than a practice march or spring manœuver.

After arriving at Chickamauga all heavy baggage was shipped away for storage, and all officers and men were required to reduce their field equipage to the minimum; the object being to have the least possible amount of luggage, in order that the greatest possible amount of fighting material might be carried. Even with all this preparation going on some officers were indulging the hope that the troops might remain in camps, perfecting themselves in drill, until September, or October, before they should be called upon to embark for Cuba. This, however, was not to be, and it is perhaps well that it was not, as the suffering and mortality in the home camps were almost equal to that endured by the troops in Cuba. The suffering at home, also, seemed more disheartening, because it appeared to be useless, and could not be charged to any important changes in conditions or climate. It was perhaps in the interest of humanity that this war, waged for humanity's sake, should have been pushed forward from its first step to its last, with the greatest possible dispatch, and that just enough men on our side were sent to the front, and no more. It is still a good saying that all is well that ends well.

The Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park, the place where our troops assembled on their march to Cuba, beautiful by nature, especially in the full season of spring when the black soldiers arrived there, and adorned also by art, has, next to Gettysburg, the most prominent place among the historic battle-fields of the Civil War. As a park it was established by an act of Congress approved August 19, 1890, and contains seven thousand acres of rolling land, partly cleared and partly covered with oak and pine timber. Beautiful broad roads wind their way to all parts of the ground, along which are placed large tablets recording the events of those dreadful days in the autumn of 1863, when Americans faced Americans in bloody, determined strife. Monuments, judiciously placed, speak with a mute eloquence to the passer-by and tell of the valor displayed by some regiment or battery, or point to the spot where some lofty hero gave up his life. The whole park is a monument, however, and its definite purpose is to preserve and suitably mark "for historical and professional military study the fields of some of the most remarkable manœuvres and most brilliant fighting in the War of the Rebellion." The battles commemorated by this great park are those of Chickamauga, fought on September 19-20, and the battles around Chattanooga, November 23-25, 1863. The battle of Chickamauga was fought by the Army of the Cumberland, commanded by Major-General W.S. Rosecrans, on the Union side, and the Army of Tennessee, commanded by General Braxton Bragg, on the side of the Confederates. The total effective strength of the Union forces in this battle was little less than 60,000 men, that of the Confederates about 70,000. The total Union loss was 16,179 men, a number about equal to the army led by Shatter against Santiago. Of the number reported as lost, 1,656 were killed, or as many as were lost in killed, wounded and missing in the Cuban campaign. The Confederate losses were 17,804, 2,389 being killed, making on both sides a total killed of 4,045, equivalent to the entire voting population of a city of over twenty thousand inhabitants. General Grant, who commanded the Union forces in the battles around Chattanooga, thus sums up the results: "In this battle the Union army numbered in round figures about 60,000 men; we lost 752 killed, 4,713 wounded and 350 captured or missing. The rebel loss was much greater in the aggregate, as we captured and sent North to be rationed there over 6,100 prisoners. Forty pieces of artillery, over seven thousand stand of small arms, many caissons, artillery wagons and baggage wagons fell into our hands. The probabilities are that our loss in killed was the heavier as we were the attacking party. The enemy reported his loss in killed at 361, but as he reported his missing at 4,146, while we held over 6,000 of them as prisoners, and there must have been hundreds, if not thousands, who deserted, but little reliance can be placed upon this report."

In the battle of Chickamauga, when "four-fifths of the Union Army had crumbled into wild confusion," and Rosecrans was intent only on saving the fragments, General Thomas, who had commanded the Federal left during the two days' conflict, and had borne the brunt of the fight, still held his position. To him General James A. Garfield reported. General Gordon Granger, without orders, brought up the reserves, and Thomas, replacing his lines, held the ground until nightfall, when he was joined by Sheridan. Bragg won and held the field, but Thomas effectually blocked his way to Chattanooga, securing to himself immediately the title of the "Rock of Chickamauga." His wonderful resolution stayed the tide of a victory dearly bought and actually won, and prevented the victors from grasping the object for which they had fought. In honor of this stubborn valor, and in recognition of this high expression of American tenacity, the camp established in Chickamauga Park by the assembling army was called Camp George H. Thomas.

The stay of the colored regulars at Camp George H. Thomas was short, but it was long enough for certain newspapers of Chattanooga to give expression to their dislike to negro troops in general and to those in their proximity especially. The Washington Post, also, ever faithful to its unsavory trust, lent its influence to this work of defamation. The leading papers, however, both of Chattanooga and the South generally, spoke out in rather conciliatory and patronizing tones, and "sought to restrain the people of their section from compromising their brilliant display of patriotism by contemptuous flings at the nation's true and tried soldiers.