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<h2> Chapter 13. Conclusion </h2>
<p>My personal forebodings proved to be correct, and so were the threats of
the surgeons. In May, 1864, I went home invalided, was compelled to resign
in October from the same cause, and never saw the First South Carolina
again. Nor did any one else see it under that appellation, for about that
time its name was changed to the Thirty-Third United States Colored
Troops, "a most vague and heartless baptism," as the man in the story
says. It was one of those instances of injudicious sacrifice of <i>esprit
de corps</i> which were so frequent in our army. All the pride of my men
was centred in "de Fus' Souf"; the very words were a recognition of the
loyal South as against the disloyal. To make the matter worse, it had been
originally designed to apply the new numbering only to the new regiments,
and so the early numbers were all taken up before the older regiments came
in. The governors of States, by especial effort, saved their colored
troops from this chagrin; but we found here, as more than once before, the
disadvantage of having no governor to stand by us. "It's a far cry to Loch
Awe," said the Highland proverb. We knew to our cost that it was a far cry
to Washington in those days, unless an officer left his duty and stayed
there all the time.</p>
<p>In June, 1864, the regiment was ordered to Folly Island, and remained
there and on Cole's Island till the siege of Charleston was done. It took
part in the battle of Honey Hill, and in the capture of a fort on James
Island, of which Corporal Robert Vendross wrote triumphantly in a letter,
"When we took the pieces we found that we recapt our own pieces back that
we lost on Willtown Revear (River) and thank the Lord did not lose but
seven men out of our regiment."</p>
<p>In February, 1865, the regiment was ordered to Charleston to do provost
and guard duty, in March to Savannah, in June to Hamburg and Aiken, in
September to Charleston and its neighborhood, and was finally mustered out
of service—after being detained beyond its three years, so great was
the scarcity of troops—on the 9th of February, 1866. With dramatic
fitness this muster-out took place at Fort Wagner, above the graves of
Shaw and his men. I give in the Appendix the farewell address of
Lieutenant-Colonel Trowbridge, who commanded the regiment from the time I
left it. Brevet Brigadier-General W. T. Bennett, of the One Hundred and
Second United States Colored Troops, who was assigned to the command,
never actually held it, being always in charge of a brigade.</p>
<p>The officers and men are scattered far and wide. One of our captains was a
member of the South Carolina Constitutional Convention, and is now State
Treasurer; three of our sergeants were in that Convention, including
Sergeant Prince Rivers; and he and Sergeant Henry Hayne are still members
of the State Legislature. Both in that State and hi Florida the former
members of the regiment are generally prospering, so far as I can hear.
The increased self-respect of army life fitted them to do the duties of
civil life. It is not in nature that the jealousy of race should die out
in this generation, but I trust they will not see the fulfilment of
Corporal Simon Cram's prediction. Simon was one of the shrewdest old
fellows in the regiment, and he said to me once, as he was jogging out of
Beaufort behind me, on the Shell Road, "I'se goin' to leave de Souf,
Cunnel, when de war is over. I'se made up my mind dat dese yere Secesh
will neber be cibilized in my time."</p>
<p>The only member of the regiment whom I have seen since leaving it is a
young man, Cyrus Wiggins, who was brought off from the main-land in a
dug-out, in broad day, before the very eyes of the rebel pickets, by
Captain James S. Rogers, of my regiment. It was one of the most daring
acts I ever saw, and as it happened under my own observation I was glad
when the Captain took home with him this "captive of his bow and spear" to
be educated under his eye in Massachusetts. Cyrus has done credit to his
friends, and will be satisfied with nothing short of a college-training at
Howard University. I have letters from the men, very quaint in handwriting
and spelling; but he is the only one whom I have seen. Some time I hope to
revisit those scenes, and shall feel, no doubt, like a bewildered Rip Van
Winkle who once wore uniform.</p>
<p>We who served with the black troops have this peculiar satisfaction, that,
whatever dignity or sacredness the memories of the war may have to others,
they have more to us. In that contest all the ordinary ties of patriotism
were the same, of course, to us as to the rest; they had no motives which
we had not, as they have now no memories which are not also ours. But the
peculiar privilege of associating with an outcast race, of training it to
defend its rights and to perform its duties, this was our especial meed.
The vacillating policy of the Government sometimes filled other officers
with doubt and shame; until the negro had justice, they were but defending
liberty with one hand and crushing it with the other. From this
inconsistency we were free. Whatever the Government did, we at least were
working in the right direction. If this was not recognized on our side of
the lines, we knew that it was admitted on the other. Fighting with ropes
round our necks, denied the ordinary courtesies of war till we ourselves
compelled then: concession, we could at least turn this outlawry into a
compliment. We had touched the pivot of the war. Whether this vast and
dusky mass should prove the weakness of the nation or its strength, must
depend in great measure, we knew, upon our efforts. Till the blacks were
armed, there was no guaranty of their freedom. It was their demeanor under
arms that shamed the nation into recognizing them as men.</p>
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