January 9, 1863.
This morning, the adjutant and I, with eight oarsmen, went
down to Hilton Head in our surf boat. The distance cannot be far from twelve
miles and the trip is a charming one, though the shores are wanting in those
rugged qualities which help to make the difference in character between the
North and the South. Our black soldiers sang as they rowed — not the songs of
common sailors — but the hymns of praise mingled with those pathetic longings
for a better world, so constant with these people. There are times when I could
quite enjoy more earthly songs for them, even a touch of the wicked, but this
generation must live and die in sadness. The sun can never shine for them as
for a nation of freemen whose fathers were not slaves.
My special business in going to Hilton Head was to test the
honesty of a certain medical purveyor, who does not incline to honor the
requisitions of the surgeon of the 1st Reg. S. C. Vol's. He has not yet heard
of the popularity of the black regiments, but Uncle Samuel will teach him that,
as well as a few other things. But it will be too late for him to repent in
this world when he shall have learned the lesson.
The Flora – Gen. Saxton's steamer — came down from
Beaufort and we were towed back by her to our camp. I met the General on the
steamer and was delighted to find him in that mood over the purveyor's second
refusal, which will work out a line of retributive justice. He read to me a
letter just received by him from Secretary Stanton, which authorizes me to draw
direct from New York. So we shall be all right within two weeks, I hope. In
addition to all my other duties, I should quite like to prescribe for some of
those pro-slavery scamps who disgrace the federal shoulder-straps. This
particular case was polite enough to me, for which I was sorry. When Gen.
(David] Hunter gets here there will be a bowing and scraping to the
anti-slavery men that may awaken wickedness in my heart. . . .
I am just now busy in trying to discover the causes of such
an excess of pleurisy and pneumonia in our camp, as compared with white
regiments. Thus far I can only get the reiteration of the fact that negroes are
more subject to these diseases than are the whites. I should be very sorry to
find that their nightly “praise meetings,” or “shouts,” acted an important role
in the development of these diseases, yet, thus far, our gravest cases are the
most religious. It would be a sad but curious coincidence, if while the Colonel
and young captain are diligently taking notes of the songs and hymns of the
soldiers, the surgeon should note a marked fatality resulting from this sweet
religious expression. We shall see. It is as difficult to inculcate temperance
in religion here, among these sun-burned children, as to introduce it into a
Methodist camp-meeting. I hope we shall not have to shut in religious
expressions by military rules.
Speaking of coincidences, reminds me that I found the
steward, this morning, putting up prescriptions in bits of the “
Liberator." I don't believe Mr. Garrison's editorials ever before came so
near these black soldiers. I wondered if the powders would not have some magic
power conveyed to them. South Carolina is getting a simultaneous doctoring of
body and soul.
SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical
Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June,1910: February 1910. p. 341-2
No comments:
Post a Comment