
Table
of Contents
Study
Areas:
Slavery
Anti-Slavery
Free
Persons of Color
Underground
Railroad
The
Violent Decade
US
Colored Troops
Civil
War
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Chapter
Ten
The Bridge (continued)
Speaking
Trumpet-tongued
The
debate over allowing African Americans to serve in the armed
forces was as old as the country itself, and flared anew during every
war. Harrisburg banker and politician Simon Cameron was one of the
first to broach the subject when the war began, and he did so in
his own brash and inimitable way. Few stories of political dynasties
can rival the tale of Simon Cameron's hold on Pennsylvania politics,
with his behind-the-scenes maneuverings and deals made literally
in smoke-filled rooms. Despite tales of corruption, political chicanery,
and outright graft, few would dispute that this man was for many
years the most powerful and influential person in Pennsylvania politics.
Cameron's
interest in politics developed through his interest in printing, which
began at age ten as a printer's apprentice. While barely out of his
teenage years he assumed the editorship of several small newspapers
and in 1821 came to Harrisburg where he bought a small newspaper, the Harrisburg
Republican, renamed it the Intelligencer, and began cultivating
important political connections.
Newspapers
in the nineteenth century were often little more than political organs
for various parties or candidates. While some existed only for the
duration of a political campaign, established and financed by political
party monies, most stayed in business longer and served their communities
as legitimate newspapers, all the while endorsing a specific party
or political movement. Simon Cameron's career as editor soon led to
his appointment as State Printer, and then Adjutant General of Pennsylvania.
He was twice elected to the U.S. Senate, first as a Democrat, and the
second time with the backing of a coalition of Democratic, Republican,
and American party legislators.
In
the stormy presidential election of 1860, Cameron declared himself
a Republican candidate for president and took an influential delegation
to the party convention in Chicago. There, after much political wrangling,
Cameron threw his support behind Abraham Lincoln in return for the
promise of a Cabinet position. After the election, Lincoln withheld
the post of secretary of the treasury, a post that Cameron, who counted
banking among his many vocations, really wanted, and instead offered
to him an appointment as secretary of war. It was during Simon Cameron's
tenure as secretary of war that he proposed that slaves freed by Union
troops be immediately emancipated and used in the war effort, either
as laborers or as armed troops. From his 1 December 1861 annual report,
Cameron argued:
It shall be found that
the men who have been held by the rebels as slaves are capable
of bearing arms and performing efficient military service, it is
the right, and may become the duty, of this Government to arm and
equip them, and employ their services against the rebels, under
proper military regulations, discipline and command.
But in whatever manner
they may be used by the Government, it is plain that, once liberated
by the rebellious act of their masters, they should never again
be restored to bondage. By the master's treason and rebellion he
forfeits all right to the labor and service of his slave; and the
slave of the rebellious master, by his service to the Government,
becomes justly entitled to freedom and protection.15
Unfortunately,
Lincoln felt that the nation was not yet ready for emancipation and
arming African Americans as soldiers, and censored Cameron's report,
demanding the removal of the portions referring to emancipation and
arming former slaves. Cameron complied, but sent uncensored copies
of the report to the newspapers, infuriating those members of the administration
who opposed hard-line dealings with the Southern states. The resulting
furor was one of several reasons that Lincoln replaced Cameron with
Edwin Stanton, assigning the Pennsylvanian to the recently vacated,
and safely distant, post of minister to Russia. The Lincoln administration
then put the concept of black soldiers on hold, at least until the
military situation demanded it, at which point the President finally
decided to incorporate it into the planned Emancipation Proclamation.
Lincoln’s
decision, made in July 1862, was based more on military necessity than
on popular opinion, which was why he needed a military victory in order
to announce his proclamation. The success of the Army of the Potomac
in checking Lee’s invasion of the North at Antietam Creek in
Maryland suited his purpose. Although that very bloody battle was not
a Union victory, in that the Army of Northern Virginia was not militarily
defeated, it was also not a Southern victory, and so it was close enough.
Released
to the public right after the battle and first published in Harrisburg
on Tuesday, 23 September 1862, the Emancipation Proclamation was trumpeted
as a moral blow against slavery and also as a fuller prosecution of
the war against those in rebellion by taking away their means of production.
However, the September 1862 version of the Proclamation emphasized
only the emancipation of those slaves in areas still in rebellion as
of the first of the year. It said nothing explicit about taking African
Americans into the armed forces.16 Perhaps
even then it was still too soon.
Only two
months before, the collected members of the Pennsylvania Democratic
Party had been in Harrisburg for their state convention, and had issued
a strongly worded denunciation of the President’s consideration
of the acceptance of African Americans into the armed forces. In their
published proceedings, they wrote:
On position in opposition
to accepting African American troops: We forbear to discuss the
question, whether such soldiers are not a burlesque upon the name,
and whether clothing and arming negroes as such, beside the waste
of clothes, arms, and other supplies, is not exposing us to defeat
in battle, from the clearly established fact, that the negro is
utterly disqualified by nature to stand the musketry and artillery
fire -not to speak of the bayonet charge- of modern warfare.17
By January
1863, however, the Democratic opinions were moot. The decision had
been made, and it remained only to begin the process of large-scale
recruitment of blacks into the army and navy. Congress had, as early
as July 1862, already passed two separate acts clearing the legal barriers
against enlistment of African Americans, and black regiments had been
formed in South Carolina, Louisiana, and Kansas Territory.
The formation
of African American regiments in Pennsylvania did not begin in earnest
until June, but prior to that, Massachusetts and Rhode Island began
to recruit throughout several eastern states for their respective regiments.
The opportunity to fight was finally available, and Harrisburg saw
a flurry of activity related to the organization of the New England
regiments.
Massachusetts
Governor John Andrew was the most aggressive in seeking recruits to
fill his state’s first African American regiment. He appointed
George Luther Stearns, one of John Brown’s chief backers in Kansas
and a member of the “Secret Six” financial backers of his
Harpers Ferry Raid, as the head of his committee on recruitment, and
Stearns in turn brought in Martin Delany, Frederick Douglass, and Charles
Lennox Remond as regional recruiters.18
Douglass
immediately went to work in Philadelphia and eastern Pennsylvania.
The initial meetings, as reported in the Harrisburg Telegraph, were
promising:
Black
Pennsylvanians Enlisting in Massachusetts Regiments.
A few days ago recruiting
and transporting offices were opened, somewhat privately, in Philadelphia,
to enlist black soldiers for Massachusetts regiments. At different
times small squads of negroes were sent down to Boston, and on
the day before yesterday twenty five well developed men marched
through the streets to the transportation office and depot, which
was the first information that the public had of negro enlistments.
Gov. Andrew sent an officer to Philadelphia to consult with the
leading men of color, and the interview was satisfactory. Should
the Governor confirm what the officer agreed to, which relates
to bounty and such matters, there will be a grand rush of blacks
from this State to enlist in the Massachusetts regiments.19
The Patriot and Union took
a more pessimistic tone, predictably:
Recruiting
Negroes.
This State is overrun
with agents from Massachusetts seeking negro recruits for her unfilled
quota of the army. We have our information from a colored man of
this city, who is promised thirteen dollars a month and ten acres
of land. He tells us that some ten or twenty will be taken from
Harrisburg. Massachusetts may have all the negroes she can raise
from this quarter.20
Monthly pay
of thirteen dollars, with a bounty of ten acres of land, would have
been quite a generous enlistment offer, if true, but it was not; and
that constituted a significant hitch in the plan to enroll the free
black residents of Pennsylvania in the new Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts
Volunteer Infantry Regiment. It was true that recruiting officers promised
monthly pay on par with white troops, but there were no plans to offer
land as an enlistment bounty. Furthermore, the recruiting agents knew
that Congress, while authorizing the recruitment of black troops, had
not authorized equal pay.
But there
was another, bigger hurdle to overcome, which was the disenfranchisement
of African Americans by the Pennsylvania State Constitution of 1838.
This became a sore issue at the very first recruitment meeting for
the Massachusetts regiment held in Harrisburg, where local agents encountered
unexpected opposition to enlistment based upon the lack of respect
given African Americans by the Keystone State. At the meeting, Harrisburg
men told the recruiters, all the while reiterating their desire and
willingness to fight, that they would respond to an enlistment call
only when summoned “by the proper authorities,”21 meaning
Pennsylvania’s government. In other words, they wanted to fight
in defense of their homes, but would not sacrifice their self-respect
by leaving a state that did not want their services, just to seek out
another state that did.
A much more
contentious crowd assembled for a mass recruitment meeting in Philadelphia
in late March, and voiced many of the same concerns. At a meeting held
in Franklin Hall and chaired by the Reverend Stephen Smith, recruiting
agent A.M. Green opened the meeting with the statement that enlistments
for black regiments were no longer in doubt, as “the noble old
Bay State, Governor Andrew has power to organize at least one black
regiment.” Green challenged his fellow Philadelphians by stating, “The
question now is, whether the colored men shall rally, or whether it
shall be thrown in our teeth, what has already gone forth, that the
colored people have neither genius nor bravery to display in the present
war.”
On the dais
with Green was J. Miller McKim, who added his voice to the call to
arms. McKim said that “he had it from a high source that colored
enlistments for Pennsylvania had not yet been authorized, although
plans for the same were now maturing, of which due notice would be
given.” He advised those assembled, though, not to wait for Pennsylvania
to start filling her own black regiment while the Massachusetts regiment
remained only partially filled. McKim stated that one-half of the men
already in Readville, Massachusetts, the camp of rendezvous for the
Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts, were Pennsylvania men.22
In suggesting
the probability that future Pennsylvania regiments would be formed,
McKim was clearly trying to head off the same protests that recruiters
had heard in Harrisburg. A sympathetic member of the crowd offered
supporting remarks, saying, “The colored people were a forgiving
race, and, although they had been deprived of their rights, yet he
knew they were willing to forget all, and rally around their country’s
flag at that moment when their services were most needed.”
Stephens,
McKim, and Green received his comments with satisfaction, but then
the dissenters added their voices. David Bustill, the father of Joseph
C. Bustill, stood up. The respected Quaker abolitionist was now in
his seventies, and his small frame seemed even frailer with age, but
the fierce defender of fugitive slaves had lost none of the fire that
infused his lectures against slavery that he had delivered in years
past in front of dour judges presiding over the fate of some unfortunate
fugitive. This veteran equal rights crusader was not about to be so
easily manipulated by talk of patriotism.
As recorded
in the newspaper, the elder Bustill felt that “colored people
had no rights whatever under the Constitution of Pennsylvania. They
have no rights, and the Government doesn’t mean to give them
rights. He denounced, in strong terms, the sentiments as uttered by
Mr. McKim.”23 Bustilll’s
opinions struck a nerve with those gathered in the room. A low whisper
of assent spread through the hall. The rally organizers feared losing
control of the meeting as several in the crowd muttered their agreement
with Bustill.
The Philadelphia
meeting was rescued by the comments of Robert Purvis, who “made
a stirring address” which garnered the general, if begrudging,
approval of most of the crowd for a series of resolutions saluting
Massachusetts for her support of abolition issues, but mostly for being
the first to “unbar the door, that black men of the North may
on equal turns with white men, strike simultaneously at Slavery and
the Rebellion.” The assembly then pledged a debt to Massachusetts,
offering “every influence in our power in order to make the Fifty-fourth
Regiment, Massachusetts Volunteers, a perfect success, a model regiment
by the way, speaking trumpet-tongued to her prejudiced sister States,
saying ‘Go thou, and do likewise.’”24
John Wolf
and T. Morris Chester Step Up
The Bay State
eventually did fill up its first African American regiment, and in
fact had so many qualified volunteers that it was able to create a
second regiment, sending forth both the Fifty-Fourth and Fifty-Fifth
Massachusetts Volunteers, both of which included many men from Pennsylvania.
It was a struggle at first, though. To the severe disappointment of
those who supported the regiment, and despite the eloquent speeches
of men like Frederick Douglass, recruiting efforts throughout Pennsylvania
progressed painfully slow from January through April. A large number
of the Pennsylvania men already in Massachusetts, as referred to by
J. Miller McKim at the Philadelphia rally, were there due to the tireless
efforts of two Harrisburg men: Thomas Morris Chester and John Wolf.
Harrisburg
schoolteacher John Wolf, at forty-five years old, added a measure of
respect and wisdom to the recruitment efforts in the state capital.
Having taught school in the city for more than twenty years, the freeborn
Pennsylvania native was well known to many of the young African American
men of the town, so when he talked to them about their duty to stand
up and fight the slave powers by joining the newly authorized Massachusetts
regiment, they listened.
As a close
personal friend of Frederick Douglass—Wolf and his wife had played
hosts to the famed anti-slavery orator during his 1847 speaking engagement
in Harrisburg—John Wolf welcomed the opportunity to again help
his old friend in this new and worthy endeavor.25 The
schoolteacher was joined in his recruitment efforts by the ambitious
and versatile Thomas Morris Chester, the son of old time Harrisburg
restaurateurs George and Jane Chester.
At only twenty-eight
years of age, young Chester had already experienced a lifetime of achievements.
College educated and well spoken, he had crossed the Atlantic several
times to live and work in Liberia with fellow African American émigrés.
He had published a newspaper and taught school in the African colony,
and still had time to study law with an eye toward soon becoming a
practicing lawyer. His African adventures brought him considerably
regional fame, and he was invited to participate in numerous social
events in Harrisburg and Philadelphia.
On 9 December
1862, T. Morris Chester—his preferred moniker—delivered
an address at the twenty-ninth anniversary of the Philadelphia Library
Company on the subject of “Negro Self-Respect and Pride of Race.” In
that well-received speech, Chester argued that blacks should strive
for the same level of “self-respect and pride of race” in
their daily lives that they manifested in emergencies, as when their “latent
manhood” was aroused to a “grand development of moral courage
in opposition to public sentiment and unjust laws.” He illustrated
his point:
Let it be announced
that a fugitive slave is arrested by the revolting vampires who
exist by sucking our blood, and you will witness a magnificent
gathering together of the Afro-Americans in their physical strength.
Such an event would spread with the rapidity of lightning, and
from Seventh street, and St. Mary, and Lombard, and Shippen, men
and women would march up grandly to the tune of John Brown, to
fight, if necessary, for the god-given rights of the race.26
Chester went
on to urge the same passion and racial unity in the literature, art,
and heroes that African Americans chose. In his most memorable line,
he urged, “I would not persuade you to like the white race less,
but to love the black race more.” He then cited worthy African
American heroes, artists and businessmen as substitutes for better-known
whites in the same categories: “Remove as far as practicable,
from all observations and association, every influence which tends
to weaken your self-respect. Take down from your walls the pictures
of Washington, Jackson, and McClellan; and if you love to gaze upon
military chieftains, let the gilded frames be graced with the immortal
Toussaint, the brave Geffrard, and the chivalrous Benson, three untarnished
black generals whose martial achievements are the property of history.”27
This was
not a new theme, but Chester felt that it required repeating. One of
the chief regional recruiting agents for Massachusetts Governor Andrew,
Martin Delany, had exhorted the black residents of Harrisburg to follow
that very course in a speech delivered here in November 1848, some
fourteen years earlier. Delany had said, “It is necessary to
make our people dependent upon themselves, and cease to look to others
to do for them….My constant advice to our brethren shall be—Elevate
yourselves!”
After rolling
through a list of similar such substitutions, all in the name of providing
young people with badly needed role models, Chester turned his sights
on the larger institutions of government and especially religion:
The American religion,
American politics and American literature have ever, to the lasting
disgrace of the American people, been prostituted to ignore our
virtues.—Henceforth discard such religion as illegitimate
and hypocritical, such politics as corrupt and infamous, and such
literature as versatile and dangerous. Follow only the Christianity
of the Bible which diffuses good will to men, rally only in support
of that policy which recognizes God as our Father and all mankind
as brethren.28
These were
the revolutionary sentiments that T. Morris Chester carried to Harrisburg
a month later, and their influence is clearly evident not only in his
recruiting practices, but in the Watch Night resolutions released by
Wolf, Bennett, and Stevens that same month, which they summarized as
follows:
Although the proclamation
was not made as an act of philanthropy, or as a grand deed of justice
due to those suffering in bonds, but simply as a war measure, still
in it we recognize the hand of God; and for it we are constrained
to say, roll forward the day when the American soil shall no more
be polluted with that crime against God, American slavery; but
all will be able to say "Glory to God in the highest, on earth
peace and good will to man.
Their reference
to the “hand of God” echoes not only the desire of T. Morris
Chester to embrace a more pure Christianity—one not polluted
with racism and political opportunism—but it also pays tribute
to an allusion in Abraham Lincoln’s speech delivered at Harrisburg
on 22 February 1861, in the Capitol, in which he compared his act of
raising an American flag at Independence Hall earlier that morning
to his role as a simple instrument in the hands of the people:
I could not help hoping
that there was in the entire success of that beautiful ceremony
at least something of an omen of what is to come. Nor could I help
feeling that, as I often have felt, in the whole of that proceeding
I was a very humble instrument. I had not provided the flag, I
had not made the arrangements for elevating it to its place, I
had applied but a very small portion of my feeble strength in raising
it; in the whole transaction I was in the hands of the people who
had arranged it.29
Lincoln’s
words had in turn struck a responsive chord with Harrisburg’s
African American citizens, who recalled that the martyred John Brown
had envisioned himself an instrument in the “Hand of Providence.” Self-reliance,
as it allowed the African American community to “roll forward,” was
therefore seen as being dependent upon the community’s willingness
to act in the name of a higher law, whether that higher law was the
will of the people, as Lincoln saw it, the divine will of Providence,
as John Brown believed, or for the pride of race, as Chester (and Delany)
argued.
Ingeniously,
Stevens, Bennett, and Wolf had neatly wrapped all three into a trilogy
of faith in their response to the proclamation. As a war measure, Lincoln’s
Emancipation Proclamation represented the will of the people; in allowing
blacks to serve in the military, it defended unity and pride of race,
and in cleansing the country of slavery—a “crime against
God”—it represented the Hand of Providence, or God. All
three components, community, brotherhood and God, were therefore present
in the recruiting effort, and all three became the pillars of support
that Harrisburg’s African American community henceforth gave
to the war effort.
January 1863, with its New Years Day emancipation vigil, and its “Jubilee
of Freedom,” as the Telegraph characterized the mass meeting
in the Bethel A.M.E. Church on the fifteenth of the month, began on an
exceptionally high and buoyant note for Harrisburg’s African American
community, but by April the high hopes had vanished behind a cloud of
disappointingly low enlistment numbers as well as the continuing racial
disharmony that plagued the city.
The lukewarm
reception that local African American men gave to recruiters for the
Massachusetts regiment would not be immediately apparent. In mid-February,
one month after the city’s black leaders stated that they were “bound
as citizens” to maintain the supremacy of the American flag “o'er
land and sea, against foreign foes or domestic traitors,” Harrisburg
did not yet have an active recruiting office. Local African American
residents could read about the ongoing efforts in Philadelphia, which
had begun sending men to Boston the previous month, but other than
actually traveling to Philadelphia to volunteer, local men could do
little more than attend a local rally organized by the city’s
supporters of the new regiment. Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph editor
George Bergner wrote promising reports of the Philadelphia rallies,
and hinted that local interest was very high:
A few days ago recruiting
and transporting offices were opened, somewhat privately, in Philadelphia,
to enlist black soldiers for Massachusetts regiments. At different
times small squads of negroes were sent down to Boston, and on
[the] day before yesterday twenty-five well developed men marched
through the streets to the transportation office and depot, which
was the first information that the public had of negro enlistments.
Gov. Andrew sent an officer to Philadelphia to consult with the
leading men of color, and the interview was satisfactory. Should
the Governor confirm what the officer agreed to, which relates
to bounty and such matters, there will be a grand rush of blacks
from this State to enlist in the Massachusetts regiments.30
The excitement
over the authority given to the Bay State to begin filling its first
black regiment led to much speculation over when Pennsylvania would
follow. The Patriot and Union printed an article on 6 March
with the attention-getting headline “First Pennsylvania Negro
Regiment,” but it was more speculation than an announcement of
the start of active recruitment:
A meeting was held at
Pittsburgh the other day to take measures for the organization
of the “First Regiment of Colored Pennsylvania Volunteers.” It
was determined to appoint ten recruiting officers to raise that
number of companies, and committees were appointed to devise ways
and means and solicit money. Addresses were delivered by two or
three white officers who are willing to go into the field on an
equality with their sable brethren. We learn that Harrisburg is
to be one of the recruiting stations, but as the negroes of this
city have no stomach for the fight, the attempt to raise recruits
here will not be very successful. Conscription if the only mode
by which our “Americans of African descent” can be
got into military service, and as the bill recently passed does
not exempt this class, of course a large proportion of them will
be drafted and put into the army side by side with white citizens.31
Aside from
taking digs at the draft by inciting the racial prejudices of Harrisburg’s
whites, the Patriot and Union article played up the local
resistance by local African American men to the Massachusetts enlistment
rallies recently held in this city, mischaracterizing the fierce pride
that kept many from deserting their native state for Massachusetts
as a lack of “stomach for the fight.” The official Harrisburg
response, given by Wolf, Bennett, and Stevens in January, had clearly
spelled out the condition “if called upon,” and Pennsylvania
Governor Andrew G. Curtin had not yet shown his willingness to make
that call. It would be a costly standoff.
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Notes
15. McPherson, Political
History, 294.
16. Daily
Telegraph, 23, 24, 25 September 1862.
17. Proceedings
of the Pennsylvania Democratic State Convention Held in Harrisburg,
July 4, 1862 (n.p., 1862).
18. Blackett, Thomas
Morris Chester, 32-33. Charles Lenox Remond, who had appeared
in Harrisburg previously, had been a vocal advocate of using African
American troops from the beginning of the war, while at the same
time acknowledging the very significant political and social inequalities
that would hold many back from volunteering. In a January 1862 speech
delivered at the twenty-ninth meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery
Society, in Boston, he said, “Few men could place themselves
in the point of view of the black man, and the more one did so, the
less encouragement would he feel. Not only in Washington and in Pennsylvania,
but in Massachusetts, the colored man is still disfranchised, and
kept in an unequal, a degraded position. In Washington, he (the speaker)
would be no safer now than he was ten years ago; even in Massachusetts,
his native State, he could not shoulder a musket for his country;
and if he were with the army on the Potomac, he could not wear the
national uniform. Things were not so in 1776 and 1812, under Washington
and Jackson. In both these wars, black men as well as white shed
their blood in defence of their country. Now they are not allowed
even to bear arms for this purpose.” Liberator, 31
January 1862. Remond went on to call on blacks to rise “against
their masters,” stating “John Brown has shown us the
way to success.” Governor John Andrew’s appointment of
Remond as a recruiting agent for the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts Volunteers
shrewdly reigned in this firebrand and harnessed his anger to enlist
blacks in his new state regiment. Ironically, Remond’s point
that “the colored man is still disenfranchised,” however,
would be a primary remonstrance put forth by blacks in Harrisburg
and Philadelphia who were skeptical of state enlistments.
19. Pennsylvania
Daily Telegraph, 19 February 1863.
20. Patriot
and Union, 3 March 1863.
21. Blackett, Thomas
Morris Chester, 33.
22. “Mass
Meeting of Colored People,” Christian Recorder, 4 April
1863.
23. Ibid.
24. Ibid.
25. Obituary
of John Wolf, “An Old Colored Abolitionist,” Christian
Recorder, 2 March 1899.
26. T. Morris
Chester, Negro Self-Respect and Pride of Race: Speech of T. Morris
Chester, Esq., of Liberia, Delivered at the Twenty-Ninth Anniversary
of the Philadelphia Library Company, December 9, 1862. Samuel J. May
Anti-Slavery Collection, Cornell University Library.
27. Ibid. Toussaint
L’Ouverture (1743-1803) was the iconic black hero, the leader
of the Haitian Revolution. Fabre-Nicholas Geffrard (1806-1878) was
a former general and President of Haiti when T. Morris Chester made
this speech. A supporter of the abolition movement, Geffrard was enjoying
the political recognition given Haiti by the United States government
after the commencement of the Civil War. The availability of Haitian
ports also aided the United States Navy in its blockade of the Confederacy.
I have been unable to figure out his reference to “Benson.”
28. Ibid.
29. “Response
of Mr. Lincoln,” New York Herald, 23 February 1861.
30. “Black
Pennsylvanians Enlisting in Massachusetts Regiments," Pennsylvania
Daily Telegraph, 19 February 1863.
31. “First
Pennsylvania Negro Regiment,” Patriot and Union, 6 March
1863. This article was very premature in predicting the opening of
recruitment offices for a state African American regiment. The meeting
referred to took place in Pittsburgh, in Wilkins Hill, on 26 February
1863, “for the purpose of taking steps towards the organization
of a colored regiment.” A former first lieutenant with the 155th
Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, George W. Lore, spoke at an advertised
meeting of the local African American community in order to volunteer
his services as the organizer and commander of a local African American
regiment, “if he ever recovered his health sufficiently.” It
is not clear if Lore, who was mustered into service in August 1862
as a first lieutenant in Company B, and resigned on 22 December 1862 “for
ill health,” was a scheduled speaker or just showed up.
George W. Massey,
a leader in the local African American community, chaired the meeting,
at which some opposition was expressed by local black men regarding
civil rights. A man identified as “L. Massey…labored to
show that the colored man was constitutionally disqualified from serving
in the army.” Lore made several boastful promises, if he was
allowed to organize a regiment, including a pledge to fight to the
death if ever faced with capture, a guarantee that all African American
men would be accepted into service with his regiment and a pledge that
he “would secure for the regiment all the rights and privileges
enjoyed by the white soldiers.” A report of the meeting noted
that he “indulged in profanity, which…was most shocking
in a public meeting.” Lore then became embroiled in an argument
with another white man present, and “the meeting here became
disorderly.” At this point, chairman G. W. Massey recognized Pittsburgh
Dispatch publisher J. Heron Foster, who “took the floor
and made a few sensible and pertinent remarks, touching the war and
the duty of the colored men of the North.”
Overall, there
were no organized plans at that point for the “First Regiment
of Colored Volunteers,” and certainly no plans to open a recruiting
station for that purpose in Harrisburg. “Meeting of Colored Men,” Pittsburgh
Daily Gazette and Advertiser, 27 February 1863. Aside from that
meeting, there were other efforts to recruit African American men in
Pittsburgh during the same period. One week after the Wilkins Hall
meeting, a local newspaper printed the appeal for enlistment in the
Massachusetts Fifty-Fourth Volunteers from Frederick Douglass. By Monday,
9 February, some fourteen men left Pittsburgh for Boston, stopping
in Harrisburg en route. “An Appeal to the Negroes,” Pittsburgh
Daily Gazette and Advertiser, 9 March 1863; “The First Installment,” Patriot
and Union, 11 March 1863.
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