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WHEN THE TIDE TURNED
IN THE CIVIL WAR
Over
Boston the sun had risen for more than two hundred and thirty years, but never had
its light shone more brilliantly on Faneuil Hall, and the trees on
the Common, than on the morning of May 28th, 1863.
For more than two years Civil War, in the words
of Wendell Phillips, "had, like Niagara, thundered to a music
of its own". Of the more than two thousand battles of that war,
great and small, nine hundred had been fought, and thirteen hundred
were yet to be recorded. On this May morning, although it is
scarcely nine o'clock, the air of Boston is full of expectation. The
principal streets are brilliant with the National Colors. In the
soft spring air the flags flutter, and yet one hundred extra
policemen are in reserve, for it is not known how even liberty
loving Boston will welcome the new regiment, the 54th Massachusetts,
which is about to leave the camp at Readville and march through
Boston, on its way to South Carolina.
To this first regiment of free colored men from
the North is given the task of proving the efficiency of negro
soldiers. Governor Andrew has already addressed to the men these
words: "I know not when, in all human history, to any given
thousand men in arms has been committed a work so proud, so
precious, so full of hope and glory, as the work committed to
you." The rank and file of the 54th Massachusetts were to be
men of African descent, but the officers were to be not alone Anglo
Saxons, they were to be also "without reproach or fear".
And now comes the sound of martial music. It is
Gilmore's famous band preceding the regiment led by its young
colonel, whom scarcely twenty-five years have crowned. Many
look for the first time upon his youth and beauty, but there are
many who know that he belongs to that American nobility which is not
yet out of fashion in Boston. That aristocracy, in which culture,
morality and loyalty to principles are joined to material wealth.
They know also that he is the only son of Francis George and Sarah
Sturgis Shaw, and that through the marriages of his sisters he is
brother-in-law to George William Curtis, General Charles
Russell Lowell and General Barlow. Knighted by his inheritance,
Robert Gould Shaw was the flower of all that was noblest and best in
preceding generations-and now through the narrow, picturesque,
historic streets of Boston he is leading his regiment that is to be
historic.
One
who had seen Garrison dragged by the mob down State street, and
later Anthony Burns marching back to slavery almost hidden by his
heavy guard of United States troops, now sees Garrison himself,
standing in the house of Wendell Phillips, his hand resting upon a
bust of the Hero of Harper's Ferry; and as the regiment passes the
music changes, and the band plays "John Brown's Hymn"; and
then this music is drowned in the tumult of cheers, while
from windows and steps, and crowded curbstones, handkerchiefs and
flags wave in token of the words which cannot be spoken.
Friends of freedom, champions
of liberty, have come to Boston to witness this day. Frederick
Douglas is there, bearing on his body still the scars which slavery
made. He now sees his own son marching as Sergeant Major of the best
drilled regiment Massachusetts has sent to the front. Whittier is
there, leaving his quiet home for his first and last sight of armed
men. This peace-loving poet (with a heart that could beat a charge,
and eyes that could blaze with indignation at freedom's foes), wrote
to Lydia Maria Child, "The only regiment I ever looked upon
during this war was the 54th Massachusetts on its departure for the
South. I can never forget the scene as Colonel Shaw rode at the head
of his men. The very flower of grace and chivalry, he seemed to me
beautiful and awful, as an angel of God come down to lead the host
of freedom to victory. I longed to speak the emotions of that hour,
but I dared not, lest I should indirectly give a new impulse to
war." |
