Chapter 8: Negro Soldiers in the Revolution
Chapter VIII: Negro Soldiers in the Revolution
It was said that Marshal Ney fought five hundred battles for France, and not one against her, and yet he was shot as a traitor to his country. So in reading the annals of history, we see the Negro fought to gain and perpetuate the liberty of this country, in every prominent war, from the French and Indian to the Rebellion, while he himself was forced to remain in bondage.

We read of no greater inconsistency or more indefensible farce, than to call this the land of freedom, when millions of her people were slaves, including some of the most gallant defenders of this country or their descendants.

When we meet together on "the day we celebrate," our orators are prone to ring the changes on the American eagle, Washington and the brave patriots of '76; but who ever heard a Fourth of July orator refer to La Fayette and the French, or the other brave foreigners, but for whom our cause would probably have failed?

When was a reference in such a speech, made to the part performed by the black men in that glorious struggle for freedom? It would almost seem
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that a systematic effort was made to consign these swarthy heroes to oblivion, and obliterate their very names from the page of history. But we are glad to know that the effort was a futile one. Still, while our datas are somewhat fragmentary, they are ample for a sketch, and we doubt not, the greater part of the story which perhaps will never be known was fully equal to this sample: --

There is positive proof that at least two Negroes of Virginia, Israel Titus and Samuel Jenkins, fought under Braddock and Washington in the French and Indian war. The first died at Williamstown, Massachusetts, in 1855, about one hundred and ten years of age. A sketch of his life was published in the Springfield Republican of about that date. Samuel Jenkins is thought to have been about one hundred and fifteen years old when he died at Lancaster, Ohio, in 1849. The Lancaster Gazette of that period gave a brief sketch of his life, remarkable in many respects.

There were doubtless others in this war who lived and died unknown to fame, their names and records having been lost.

The protomartyr of the Revolutionary war was Crispus Attucks, a Negro, who was the leader in the Boston massacre on that memorable 5th of March, 1770. Attucks led the citizens in the charge, shouting, "The way to get rid of these idlers is to attack the main guard; strike at the root; this is the nest!" These were perhaps his last words, as his men threw a shower of clubs, stones and brickbats at the soldiers, which they returned with a galling fire. Attucks was the first to fall, being conspicuous on account of his
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height, which was six feet and two inches, and the still more important fact that he was in advance of his men. Two others, Samuel Gray and Jonas Caldwell, were killed, while Samuel Maverick and Patrick Carr, an Irishman, were mortally wounded. Attucks and Caldwell were buried from Faneuil Hall, afterwards called the "Cradle of Liberty," the other two from their homes, but all four in one common grave, with the following epitaph on their monument.

"Long as in freedom's cause the wise contend,
Dear to your country shall your fame extend;
While to the world the lettered stone shall tell,
Where Caldwell, Attucks, Gray and Maverick fell."

Crispus Attucks was a man of some learning, and sometime before his tragic death indited the following letter to the Tory Governor of Massachusetts:

"To Thomas Hutchinson: -- You will hear from us with astonishment. You ought to hear from us with horror. You are chargeable before God and man with our blood. The soldiers were but passive instruments, were machines; neither moral nor voluntary agents in our destruction, more than the leaden pellets with which we were wounded. You were a free agent. You acted coolly, deliberately, with all that premeditated malice, not against us in particular, but against the people in general, which, in the sight of the law, is an ingredient in the composition of murder. You will hear further from us hereafter.

Crispus Attucks"

And he did hear, and the world has heard of this liberty-loving hero and patriot. For by his
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death and that of his fellow patriots the torch of liberty was kindled in Boston never to be extinguished.

Every schoolboy has read of Major Pitcairn, who commanded the British regulars in the fight at Lexington and Concord, April 19, 1775, shouting to the militia: "Disperse, you rebels; lay down your arms and disperse!" And when they stood their ground, how he ordered his men to fire, which command they obeyed, killing seven of the patriots, the first martyrs of the Revolution. But it is not as well known that one of those who fell that day was a Negro; and that his death and that of his fellow martyrs was avenged by another Negro, the brave Peter Salem, who killed Major Pitcairn while leading his men in the charge at the battle of Bunker Hill.

This Peter Salem was born and lived at Farmington, Massachusetts, and was probably a slave until the beginning of the Revolution. He served faithfully throughout the entire war.

There were quite a number of the sons of Africa fighting side by side with their countrymen of the white race at Bunker Hill, several of whom were conspicuous for their bravery, among them Salem Poor, Titus Coburn, Alexander Ames, Barzilai Lew, and Cato Howe each of whom received a pension. This fact is established by the painting of Colonel Trumbull, who witnessed this battle from Roxbury and reproduced it upon canvas in 1786. He reproduced several Negroes in the front ranks fighting valiantly, with visible results. Indeed, as Henry Wilson stated, "it is hardly too much to say that some of the most heroic deeds of the war
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of Independence were performed by black men."

The following incident is a case in point. When Major General Prescott commanded the British troops at Newport, Colonel Barton, with a black soldier named Prince, determined to capture him; and considering the fact that he was surrounded by his guard, with a large number of British soldiers quartered near, together with a fleet of ships, it was a remarkably successful stratagem. In company with "Black Prince," several other Negroes, and a detachment of the militia, Colonel Barton one dark night started in boats from a house about five miles above Newport. Muffling the oars, and avoiding the ships, they came on as noiselessly as possible, landing a short distance from the hotel, where he knew General Prescott had established his headquarters. It was arranged that Colonel Barton should take the lead, followed by Prince a short distance behind, while some of the other men brought up the rear.

When the Colonel drew near the hotel, the sentinel presented his gun and challenged him, but he continued to advance, throwing the sentinel off his guard by talking about rebel prisoners, and denouncing the rebels in general. Again the sentinel demanded the password; he replied that he did not have the password, but was loyal to his country. By this time he was near the sentinel, when, suddenly seizing his gun, he struck it to one side and wrenched it from his hand. Prince now seized the soldier in his vice-like grip, and having been bound and gagged he was handed over to the other men who had come up.
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The Colonel and Prince now drew their weapons and rushed into the hotel office, where they met the landlord and demanded that he should show them General Prescott's room; he at first refused, but being threatened with instant death, he pointed to the room above. The Colonel and Prince now hurried up to this room, and finding it locked, the brave Negro burst in the door with his head, and seized General Prescott in bed. Seeing that resistance was useless and knowing that the slightest outcry meant death, he surrendered to his captors, was soon in the boat and conveyed within the American lines. He was afterwards exchanged for General Lee, an American officer of equal rank.

George W. Williams, the leading colored historian, estimates from official sources that there were not less than three thousand colored soldiers in the revolution, including Negro soldiers from every Northern colony, scattered throughout the white regiments; while Rhode Island raised a colored regiment commanded by Colonel Christopher Green, and Connecticut raised a black battalion of soldiers commanded in part by Colonel David Humphrey. But, as usual, Little Rhode Island was the most consistent of the thirteen colonies; she first made freemen of her black sons before permitting them to fight for freedom, and indeed it is not surprising that this regiment proved to have as gallant soldiers as any in the Revolution. The Negro troops turned the tide in the battle of Rhode Island, which was pronounced by Lafayelle "the best fought battle of the war."

Arnold, in his history of the above named state,
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thus referred to it: "It was in repelling these furious onsets that the newly raised black regiment under Colonel Green distinguished itself by deeds of valor. Posted behind a thicket in the valley, they three times drove back the Hessians who charged repeatedly down the hill to dislodge them."

One admirable trait that characterized this black regiment was devotion to their officers. This was nobly demonstrated in the attack made upon the American lines near Croton River, on the thirteenth of May, 1781. Colonel Green, their gallant commander, was cut down and mortally wounded; but the enemy's saber only reached him through the bodies of his faithful guard of blacks, who hovered over him to defend him and fought until every one of them was killed. Leonidas and the Spartans at Thermopylae did no more. Truly did Tristam Burgess say in Congress in 1828, "No braver men met the enemy in battle."

We are indebted to William C. Nell's work on Colored Patriots of the American Revolution, for valuable information, including the following address, which was delivered in 1842, before the Congregational and Presbyterian Anti-Slavery Society, at Francestown, New Hampshire, by Dr. Harris, a Revolutionary veteran. It is of great interest, because it is an eye-witness describing what he had actually seen. Said he, after giving some of his own exploits: "There was a black regiment, yes, a regiment of Negroes, fighting for our liberty and independence -- not a white man among them but the officers -- stationed at what was called a flanking position, that is, upon a place which
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the enemy must pass in order to come round in our rear, to drive us from the fort. This pass was everything, both to the enemy and us. Had the colored soldiers given way before the enemy or been unfaithful, all would have been lost.

"Three times in succession were they attacked, with most desperate valor and fury, by well disciplined and veteran troops, and three times did they successfully repel the assault, and thus preserved our army from capture. They fought through the war. They were brave, hardy troops. They helped to gain our liberty and independence.

Now, the war is over, our freedom is gained -- what is to be done with these colored soldiers, who have shed their best blood in its defense? Must they be sent off out of the country, because they are black? Or must they be sent back into slavery, now they have risked their lives and shed their blood to secure the freedom of their masters? I ask, what became of these noble colored soldiers? Many of them, I fear, were taken back to the South, and doomed to the fetter and the chain.

And why is it that the colored inhabitants of our nation, born in this country, and entitled to all the rights of freedom, are held in slavery? Why, but because they are black! I have often thought that, should God see fit, by a miracle, to change their color, straighten their hair, and give their features and complexion the appearance of the whites, slavery would not continue a year. No, you would then go and abolish it with the sword, if it were not speedily done without. But is it a suitable cause for making men slaves because
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God has given them such color, such hair and such features as he saw fit?"

Simon Lee, the grandfather of William Wells Brown, on his mother's side, was a slave in Virginia, and served in the Revolution; although honorably discharged with the other Virginia troops, at the close of the war, he was sent back to his master, where he spent the remainder of his life in toiling on a tobacco plantation. Such is the injustice toward the colored American, that, after serving in his country's struggle for freedom he is doomed to fill the grave of a slave!

La Fayette, in his letter to Clarkson, said: "I would never have drawn my sword in the cause of America, if I could have conceived that thereby I was founding a land of slavery."

The following incident from Theodore Parker shows that other black veterans of the Revolution were remanded to slavery, and doubtless there were many such cases. A sea-captain of Massachusetts who commanded a small brig, which plied between Carolina and the Gulf States, said to Mr. Parker, "One day at Charleston a man came and brought to me an old Negro slave. He was very old and had fought in the Revolution, and had been much distinguished for bravery and other soldierly qualities. If he had not been a Negro, he would have become a captain at least, perhaps a colonel. But in his old age, his master found no use for him, and said he could not afford to keep him. He asked me to take the Revolutionary soldier and carry him South and sell him. I carried him to Mobile and tried to get as good and kind a master for him as I could, for I didn't
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like to sell a man who had fought for his country.

"I sold the old Revolutionary veteran for a hundred dollars to a citizen of Mobile, who raised poultry, and he set him to tend a hen coop." Mr. Parker remarked that he supposed the South Carolina master, "a true gentleman," drew the pension till the soldier died. Then turning to the sea captain, whom he knew to be an anti-slavery man, he asked: "How could you do such a thing?" "If I had not done it," he replied, "I never could have received another bale of cotton, nor hogs-head of sugar, nor anything to carry from or to any Southern port."

Theodore Parker also stated that in his day workmen, while excavating for the foundations of the large dry goods stores of New York city, unearthed a large number of human skeletons. On investigation they proved to be the bones of colored American soldiers, who fell in the battle of Long Island in 1776. They were carted off to fill up a chasm, and thrown on the beach to make the foundations of warehouses, like any other rubbish of the city. Had they been white men they would have been buried anew, but as they were only Negroes who had died for their own and their masters' country, this was their fate.

Hon. Calvin Goddard, of Connecticut, states that he was instrumental in securing, under Act of 1818, the pensions of nineteen colored soldiers. "I cannot," he says, "refrain from mentioning one black man, Primus Babcock, who proudly presented to me an honorable discharge from service during the war, dated at the close of it, wholly in the handwriting of George Washington. Nor can I
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forget the expression of his feelings when informed, after his discharge had been sent to the War Department, that it could not be returned. At his request it was written for, as he seemed inclined to spurn the pension and reclaim the discharge."

There is a pathetic anecdote told of Baron Steuben, at the time the American army disbanded. "A black soldier with his wounds unhealed, utterly destitute, stood on the wharf just as a vessel bound for his distant home was getting under way. The poor fellow gazed at the vessel with tears in his eyes, and gave himself up to utter despair. The warm-hearted foreigner noticed his emotions, and inquiring into the cause of it, took his last dollar from his purse and gave it to him, while tears of sympathy trickled down his cheeks. Overwhelmed with gratitude, the poor wounded soldier hailed the ship and was received on board. As it moved out of the wharf he cried back to his noble friend on shore, `God Almighty bless you, Master Baron.'"

We have already stated that Connecticut raised a battalion of colored soldiers, who were among the bravest in the American army. Some of them even immortalized their names as heroes "who were not born to die," as the following letter from Parker Pillsbury of New Hampshire, to William C. Nell, clearly indicates: "The names of the two brave men of color who fell with Ledyard at the storming of Fort Griswold, were Lambo Latham and Jordan Freeman. All the names of the slain at that time, are inscribed on a marble tablet, wrought into the monument -- the names of the
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colored soldiers last, and not only last, but a blank space is left between them and the whites; in genuine keeping with the "Negro Pew distinction -- setting them not only below all the others, but by themselves, even after that. And it is difficult to say why. They were not last in the fight.
"When Major Montgomery, one of the leaders in the expedition against the Americans, was lifted upon the walls of the fort by his soldiers, flourishing his sword and calling on them to follow him, Jordan Freeman received him on the point of a pike, and pinned him dead to the earth (see Historical Collections of Connecticut); and the name of Jordan Freeman stands away down last on the list of heroes -- perhaps the greatest hero of them all." But what of the other black hero who was with him? We will let a nephew of his, William Anderson, of New London, Connecticut, tell the story.

"September 6th, 1781, New London was taken by the British, under the command of that arch traitor, Benedict Arnold. The small band composing the garrison retreated to the fort opposite, in the town of Groton, and there resolved either to gain a victory or die for their country. The latter pledge was faithfully redeemed and by none more gallantly than the two colored men; and if the survivors of that day's carnage tell truly, they fought like tigers and were butchered after the gates were burst open. One of these men was the brother of my grandmother, by the name of Lambert, but called Lambo, since chiseled on the marble monument by the American classic appellation of
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`Sambo.' The name of the other black man was Jordan Freeman.

Lambert was living with a gentleman in Groton by the name of Latham; so of course he was called Lambert Latham. Mr. Latham and Lambert, on the day of the massacre, were working in a field at a distance from the house. On hearing the alarm upon the approach of the enemy, Mr. Latham started for home, leaving Lambert to drive the oxen up to the house. On arriving at the house, Lambert was told that Mr. Latham had gone up to the fort. Unyoking the oxen from the wagon and making all secure, he started for the point of defense, where he arrived before the British began the attack.

The assault on the part of the British was a deadly one, and manifestly resisted by the Americans, even to the clubbing of their muskets after their ammunition was expended; but finally the little garrison of brave defenders was reduced to a handful, and could hold out no longer.

On the entrance of the enemy, the British officer inquired, `Who commands this fort?' The gallant Ledyard replied, `I once did; you do now,' -- at the same time handing him his sword, which was seized, and immediately run through his body to the hilt by the officer. This was the commencement of an unparalleled slaughter.

Lambert, being near Colonel Ledyard when he was slain, retaliated upon the officer by thrusting his bayonet through his body. Lambert in return received from the enemy thirty-three bayonet wounds, and thus fell, nobly avenging the death of his commander. These facts were given me on
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the spot, at the time of the laying of the cornerstone, by two veterans who were present at the battle."

We learn from Kent's Commentary that the Legislature of New York passed an Act during the Revolutionary War granting freedom to all slaves who should serve in the army for three years, or until regularly discharged.

The Hartford Review for September, 1839, gives the following account of a colored man by the name of Hamet, living at that time in Middletown, Connecticut, who was formerly owned by Washington: -- "Hamet is, according to his own account, nearly one hundred years old. He draws a pension for his services in the Revolutionary war, and manufactures toy drums for his support. He has a white wife and one child His hair is white with age and hangs matted together in masses over his shoulders. He retains a perfect recollection of his Massa and Missus Washington, and has several mementoes of them. Among these there is a lock of the General's hair, and his service sword. He converses in three or four different languages, -- the French, Spanish and German, besides his native African tongue."

Another black veteran, Oliver Cromwell, served six years and nine months under Washington's immediate command, and received an honorable discharge in Washington's own handwriting, of which he was very proud. He received a pension of ninety-six dollars annually. Was in the battles of Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, Monmouth and Yorktown, at which place he claims to have seen the last man killed. He enlisted in a company
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commanded by Captain Lowery, attached to the second New Jersey Regiment, under the command of Colonel Israel Shreve. He brought up seven sons and seven daughters, who reached the age of maturity. He was a man of strong natural ability -- never using tobacco or liquor in any form. He was more than a hundred years of age when he died at his native town, Columbus, New Jersey, January 24, 1853.

Another Revolutionary hero, Charles Bowles, was born in 1761, and at the age of twelve was placed in the family of a Tory. But he was too patriotic to be contented with his home, and two years later found him in the American army a servant to an officer. When sixteen years of age he became a regular soldier, serving faithfully to the end of the war. He then went to New Hampshire and engaged in farming. He obtained a pension, became a Baptist preacher of some prominence, and died in 1843, at the age of eightytwo.

Rev. Henry F. Harrington wrote an article on General Washington and Primus Hall, body servant to Colonel Pickering, of Massachusetts, which was published in the June issue of Godey's Lady's Book, 1849.

"On one occasion, the General was engaged in earnest conversation with Colonel Pickering in his tent, until after the night had fairly set in. Headquarters were at a considerable distance, and Washington signified his preference to stay with the Colonel over night, provided he had a spare blanket and straw. `O, yes,' said Primus, who was appealed to; `plenty of straw and blankets -- plenty.'
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Upon this assurance, Washington continued his conference with the Colonel until it was time to retire to rest. Two humble beds were spread, side by side, in the tent, and the officers laid themselves down, while Primus seemed to be busy with duties that required his attention before he himself could sleep. He worked or appeared to work, until the breathing of the prostrate gentlemen satisfied him that they were sleeping; and then seating himself upon a box or stool, he leaned his head on his hands to obtain such repose as so inconvenient a position would allow. In the middle of the night Washington awoke. He looked about and descried the Negro as he sat. He gazed at him awhile, and then spoke. `Primus,' said he, calling; `Primus!' Primus started up and rubbed his eyes. `What, General?' said he.

Washington rose up in his bed. `Primus,' said he, `what did you mean by saying that you had blankets and straw enough? Here you have given up your blanket and straw to me, that I may sleep comfortably, while you are obliged to sit through the night.' `It's nothing, General,' said Primus. `It's nothing. I am well enough. Don't trouble yourself about me, General, but go to sleep again. No matter about me, I sleep very good.'

`But it is matter -- it is matter,' said Washington, earnestly. `I cannot do it, Primus. If either is to sit up, I will. But I think there is no need of either sitting up. The blanket is wide enough for two. Come and lie down here with me.' `Oh, no!' said Primus, starting, and protesting against the proposition. `No; let me sit here. I'll do
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very well on the stool.' `I say, come and lie down here!' said Washington authoritatively. `There is room for both, and I insist upon it!' He threw open the blanket as he spoke, and moved to one side of the straw. Primus professed to have been exceedingly shocked at the idea of lying under the same covering with the commander-in-chief, but his tone was so resolute and determined that he could not hesitate. He prepared himself, therefore, and laid himself down by Washington; and on the same straw, and under the same blanket, the General and the Negro servant slept until morning."

Seymour Burr lived in Connecticut; he was a slave to a brother of Colonel Aaron Burr, from whom he received his name. His master treated him kindly, but the slave sighed for freedom and was resolved, if possible, to obtain it. Persuading a number of other slaves to go with him, they seized a boat, intending to join the British army, that by so doing they might become freemen. Nevertheless their owners pursued and overtook them, and being heavily armed the slaves surrendered.

Mr. Burr did not punish Seymour, but asked him why he had left such a kind master. The Negro replied that he wanted his liberty. The master consented that the Negro should join the American army, on condition that the master should receive the bounty money and the slave be free at the close of the war. Accordingly he enlisted in the seventh regiment, commanded by Colonel Brooks of Medford.

He was with his company in the siege of Fort
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Catskill, where they endured great suffering from cold and starvation, until at last relieved by the arrival of General Washington, who was overjoyed on finding them unexpectedly alive, and holding the fort.

He served faithfully until the close of the war, receiving a pension. He afterwards married an Indian woman and established a home at Canton, Massachusetts. His wife survived him, dying in 1852, having lived more than five score years.

Jeremy Jonah (colored) also served valiantly in the same Regiment, afterwards obtaining a pension. He lived near Seymour Burr, and the two old comrades often made a night of it, after the manner of veterans, fighting their battles over again.

On August 16, 1777, the "Green Mountain Boys," aided by troops from New Hampshire and a few from Massachusetts, commanded by General Stark, captured the left wing of the British army near Bennington. When the prisoners, to the number of between seven and eight hundred, were collected to be tied on either side of a rope, it was found to be too short. The General called for more, but there was none at hand. In this emergency the patriotic wife of Hon. Moses Robinson stepped forward and said: "General, I will take down the last bedstead in the house and present the rope to you on one condition. When the prisoners are all tied to the rope, you shall permit my Negro man to harness up my old mare and hitch the rope to the whiffletree, mount the mare, and conduct the British and Tory prisoners out of town." The General willingly accepted Mrs.
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Robinson's proposition. The Negro mounted the mare, grinning from ear to ear, and thus conducted the left wing of the British army into Massachusetts, on their road to Boston.

The following instance of Negro wit is often told. After Cornwallis surrendered at York-town, an acquaintance of his, a colored soldier, stepped up to him quite elated, and remarked: "You used to be called Cornwallis, but it is Cornwallis no longer; it must now be Cobwallis, for General Washington has shelled off all the corn."

The gallant historian is proud to record the heroic deed of Molly Pitcher, whose husband was killed in the battle of Monmouth, and she took his place at the cannon, until the end of that battle. But here is the record of a black heroine who faithfully discharged all the duties of a soldier for nearly a year and a half.

The following extract is a copy of one of the Resolutions of the General Court of Massachusetts during the session of 1791-2: -- "XXIII. Resolution on the petition of Deborah Gannett, granting her £34 for services rendered in the Continental army.

"On the petition of Deborah Gannett, praying for compensation for services performed in the late army of the United States. Whereas, it appears to this Court that the said Deborah Gannett enlisted under the name of Robert Shurtliff in Captain Webb's company in the 4th Massachusetts Regiment, on May 20th, 1782, and did actually perform the duty of a soldier, in the late army of the United States, to the 23rd day of October, 1783, for which she has received no compensation;
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and whereas it further appears that the said Deborah Gannett exhibited an extraordinary instance of female heroism, by discharging the duties of a faithful, gallant soldier, and at the same time preserving the virtue and chastity of her sex unsuspected and unblemished, and was discharged from the service with a fair and honorable character therefore, Resolved, That the treasurer of this commonwealth be, and hereby is, directed to issue his note to the said Deborah for the sum of thirty-four pounds, bearing interest from October 23, 1788."

Prince Richards was a pensioned Revolutionary veteran, of East Bridgewater. When a slave he learned to write with a charred stick, thus showing a burning desire for learning, even against the command of his master, and perhaps, the law of the state.

At the close of the war, John Hancock presented the colored company called "The Bucks" with a beautiful and appropriate banner, bearing his initials, as a token of his appreciation of their courage and patriotism during the struggle. "The Bucks," under command of Colonel Middleton, marched through Boston, halting in front of the Hancock mansion on Beach Street, where the Governor and his son united in presenting the banner.

One of the most brilliant exploits of the Revolution was the capture of Stony Point by Mad Anthony Wayne. But it must not be forgotten that the countersign and password, "The Fort is Ours," was obtained by the shrewdness of a patriotic Negro who was in the habit of selling
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strawberries to the British. This same Negro guided the troops through the inky darkness, to the causeway over the marsh, around the foot of the hill. Then going in advance up the hill, he gave the countersign to the sentinel and engaged him in a friendly conversation, always keeping his back down the hill, until he was suddenly seized from behind and gagged; the rest was easy.

The historian will tell us that Washington planned, and Wayne executed this glorious exploit; but we maintain that but for this nameless black hero, the impregnable Stony Point could not have been taken.

We also read of the brig on which Jack Grove (colored) was steward; while sailing from the West Indies to Portland in 1812, it was captured by a French vessel, whose commander placed a guard on board. Jack urged his commander to make an effort to retake the ship, but the captain saw no hope. Again he urged him, saying: "Captain McLellan, I can take her myself if you will only let me go ahead" But the captain was rather cowardly and checked him, warning him not to hint such a thing, as there was danger in it. But Jack, disappointed and disgusted with him, though not daunted, rallied the men on his own hook. Captain McLellan and the rest, inspired by his example of courage and leadership, joined them, and the attempt resulted in victory. They weighed anchor and took the vessel into Portland. The owner of the brig offered Jack fifty hogsheads of molasses for his brave deed; but Jack demanded one half of the brig, which being denied, he employed two Boston lawyers and brought suit. We
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were unable to learn how the case terminated.

The artist has vied with the historian in proclaiming the fact that the black men were among the bravest of the brave, with Perry in the squadron fight of Lake Erie, and Jackson at New Orleans. What student of history has not read Jackson's eloquent tribute to his brave colored fellow soldiers, after that glorious victory which they helped him to gain?

In the Chicago Tribune of February 26, 1894, Simon Young said in reply to the proposition of the Knights of Labor to deport the Negroes to Africa: "We are part and parcel of this country. Why, only to-day we buried from No. 3331 Dearborn Street old Captain Jackson, a Mexican war veteran, whose father fought in the war of 1812, and his grandfather worked a musket in the Revolutionary set-to. Our blood and brawn and brain helped to make this country. This is our home, and we're going to stay at home." Rev. Peter Williams of New York said on one occasion: "We are natives of this land; we ask only to be treated as well as foreigners. Not a few of our fathers suffered and bled to purchase its independence; we ask only to be treated as well as those who fought against it. We have toiled to cultivate it, and raise it to its present prosperous condition; we ask only to share equal privileges with those who come from distant lands to enjoy the fruits of our labor."

Let us smother all the wrongs we have endured. Let us forget the past. If we are brethren let us yield ourselves to charity, and let us concede the fact that many times have our dusky brothers
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shown their power, their energy, their skill, in behalf of their friends, their masters, their country! Can we be so thoughtless -- yea, so heartless as to begrudge them a place, a home in this broad land of ours for which they have fought, bled, and many of them died to save?