The Negro in the Revolutionary War
As in all the greater wars in which the country has engaged, the position of the Negro was generally improved by the American Revolution. It was not by reason of any definite plan that this was so, for in general the disposition of the government was to keep him out of the conflict. Nevertheless between the hesitating policy of America and the overtures of England the Negro made considerable advance.
The American cause in truth presented a strange and embarrassing dilemma, as we have remarked. In the war itself, moreover, began the stern cleavage between the North and the South. At the moment the rift was not clearly discerned, but afterwards it was to widen into a chasm. Massachusetts bore more than her share of the struggle, and in the South the combination of Tory sentiment and the aristocratic social system made enlistment especially difficult. In this latter section, moreover, there was always the lurking fear of an uprising of the slaves, and before the end of the war came South Carolina and Georgia were very nearly demoralized. In the course of the conflict South Carolina lost not less than 25,000 slaves,53about one-fifth of all she had. Georgia did not lose so many, but proportionally suffered even more. Some of the Negroes went into the British army, some went away with the loyalists, and some took advantage of the confusion and escaped to the Indians. In Virginia, until they were stopped at least, some slaves entered the Continental Army as free Negroes.
Three or four facts are outstanding. The formal policy of Congress and of Washington and his officers was against the enlistment of Negroes and especially of slaves; nevertheless, while things were still uncertain, some Negroes entered the regular units. The inducements offered by the English, moreover, forced a modification of the American policy in actual operation; and before the war was over the colonists were so hard pressed that in more ways than one they were willing to receive the assistance of Negroes. Throughout the North Negroes served in the regular units; but while in the South especially there was much thought given to the training of slaves, in only one of all the colonies was there a distinctively Negro military organization, and that one was Rhode Island. In general it was understood that if a slave served in the war he was to be given his freedom, and it is worthy of note that many slaves served in the field instead of their masters.
In Massachusetts on May 29, 1775, the Committee of Safety passed an act against the enlistment of slaves as "inconsistent with the principles that are to be supported." Another resolution of June 6 dealing with the same matter was laid on the table. Washington took command of the forces in and about Boston July 3, 1775, and on July 10 issued instructions to the recruiting officers in Massachusetts against the enlisting of Negroes. Toward the end of September there was a spirited debate in Congress over a letter to go to Washington, the Southern delegates, led by Rutledge of South Carolina, endeavoring to force instructions to the commander-in-chief to discharge all slaves and free Negroes in the army. A motion to this effect failed to win a majority; nevertheless, a council of Washington and his generals on October 8 "agreed unanimously to reject all slaves, and, by a great majority, to reject Negroes altogether," and in his general orders of November 12 Washington acted on this understanding. Meanwhile, however, Lord Dunmore issued his proclamation declaring free those indentured servants and Negroes who would join the English army, and in great numbers the slaves in Virginia flocked to the British standard. Then on December 14—somewhat to the amusement of both the Negroes and the English—the Virginia Convention issued a proclamation offering pardon to those slaves who returned to their duty within ten days. On December 30 Washington gave instructions for the enlistment of free Negroes, promising later to lay the matter before Congress; and a congressional committee on January 16, 1776, reported that those free Negroes who had already served faithfully in the army at Cambridge might reënlist but no others, the debate in this connection having drawn very sharply the line between the North and the South. Henceforth for all practical purposes the matter was left in the hands of the individual colonies. Massachusetts on January 6, 1777, passed a resolution drafting every seventh man to complete her quota "without any exception, save the people called Quakers," and this was as near as she came at any time in the war to the formal recognition of the Negro. The Rhode Island Assembly in 1778 resolved to raise a regiment of slaves, who were to be freed at enlistment, their owners in no case being paid more than £120. In the Battle of Rhode Island August 29, 1778, the Negro regiment under Colonel Greene distinguished itself by deeds of desperate valor, repelling three times the assaults of an overwhelming force of Hessian troops. A little later, when Greene was about to be murdered, some of these same soldiers had to be cut to pieces before he could be secured. Maryland employed Negroes as soldiers and sent them into regiments along with white men, and it is to be remembered that at the time the Negro population of Maryland was exceeded only by that of Virginia and South Carolina. For the far South there was the famous Laurens plan for the raising of Negro regiments.
In a letter to Washington of March 16, 1779, Henry Laurens suggested the raising and training of three thousand Negroes in South Carolina. Washington was rather conservative about the plan, having in mind the ever-present fear of the arming of Negroes and wondering about the effect on those slaves who were not given a chance for freedom. On June 30, 1779, however, Sir Henry Clinton issued a proclamation only less far-reaching than Dunmore's, threatening Negroes if they joined the "rebel" army and offering them security if they came within the British lines. This was effective; assistance of any kind that the Continental Army could now get was acceptable; and the plan for the raising of several battalions of Negroes in the South was entrusted to Colonel John Laurens, a member of Washington's staff. In his own way Colonel Laurens was a man of parts quite as well as his father; he was thoroughly devoted to the American cause and Washington said of him that his only fault was a courage that bordered on rashness. He eagerly pursued his favorite project; able-bodied slaves were to be paid for by Congress at the rate of $1,000 each, and one who served to the end of the war was to receive his freedom and $50 in addition. In South Carolina, however, Laurens received little encouragement, and in 1780 he was called upon to go to France on a patriotic mission. He had not forgotten the matter when he returned in 1782; but by that time Cornwallis had surrendered and the country had entered upon the critical period of adjustment to the new conditions. Washington now wrote to Laurens: "I must confess that I am not at all astonished at the failure of your plan. That spirit of freedom which, at the commencement of this contest, would have gladly sacrificed everything to the attainment of its object, has long since subsided, and every selfish passion has taken its place. It is not the public but private interest which influences the generality of mankind; nor can the Americans any longer boast an exception. Under these circumstances, it would rather have been surprising if you had succeeded; nor will you, I fear, have better success in Georgia."54
From this brief survey we may at least see something of the anomalous position occupied by the Negro in the American Revolution. Altogether not less than three thousand, and probably more, members of the race served in the Continental army. At the close of the conflict New York, Rhode Island, and Virginia freed their slave soldiers. In general, however, the system of slavery was not affected, and the English were bound by the treaty of peace not to carry away any Negroes. As late as 1786, it is nevertheless interesting to note, a band of Negroes calling themselves "The King of England's soldiers" harassed and alarmed the people on both sides of the Savannah River.
Slavery remained; but people could not forget the valor of the Negro regiment in Rhode Island, or the courage of individual soldiers. They could not forget that it was a Negro, Crispus Attucks, who had been the patriot leader in the Boston Massacre, or the scene when he and one of his companions, Jonas Caldwell, lay in Faneuil Hall. Those who were at Bunker Hill could not fail to remember Peter Salem, who, when Major Pitcairn of the British army was exulting in his expected triumph, rushed forward, shot him in the breast, and killed him; or Samuel Poor, whose officers testified that he performed so many brave deeds that "to set forth particulars of his conduct would be tedious." These and many more, some with very humble names, in a dark day worked for a better country. They died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off.