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Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
What is Love? (Poem) - Charles Frederick White 1896
Love: what is love;
That fascinating power, divine,
Which fills the heart with thoughts sublime,
Which causes men to tear their hair,
Which brings delight and brings despair
Into the peaceful mind?
In vain, in vain, I've delved to find,
To fathom from its mystic rhyme,
As down the stealthy roll of time
It spreads its blessings o'er mankind,
Or, laughing wildly at his fear,
Sends down its vengeance, year by year,
The incantations of this word
Which, though I sleep, are ever heard.
Perchance, some mortal who has found
Himself within this magic mound
Of uninvited thought can give
The explanation of this myth
Which has, by its unwonted skill,
Defied the universe at will
For these long years.
May. 1896.
Juan Francisco Manzano - Poems by a Slave 101
Juan Francisco Manzano's slave narrative is the only known writing on Latin American slavery by a black person before 1886, when slavery was abolished in Cuba. The narrative, with a collection of Manzano's poetry, was first published in English by T. Ward & Company in London in 1840; it was not published in its original Spanish until almost a century later. Anselmo Suárez y Romero, author of the seminal Latin American antislavery novel Francisco (1880), edited Manzano's manuscript for its London publication. The manuscript was translated into English by Irish physician and abolitionist Richard R. Madden, who had lived in Cuba. Madden added some of his own writing to the volume, and may have done some editing to protect Manzano from reprimands. The English publication’s full title was Poems by a Slave in the Island of Cuba, Recently Liberated; Translated from the Spanish, by R. R. Madden, M.D., with the History of the Early Life of the Negro Poet, Written by Himself; to which are prefixed two pieces descriptive of Cuban Slavery and the Slave-traffic, by R. R. M.
The Slave-Trade Merchant
Behold, yon placid, plodding, staid old man,
His still and solemn features closely scan!
In his calm look how wisdom's light is shed,
How the grey hairs, become his honored head!
Mark how the merchants bow, as he goes by,
How men on 'Change, at his approach draw nigh,
"Highly respected," and esteemed; 'tis said,
His fame to Afric's farthest shore is spread!
Behold, his house:—if marble speak elsewhere,
"Sermons in stones" are with a vengeance here,
Whate'er the potent will of wealth can do
Or pride can wish, is offered to your view.
Those gay saloons, this banquet hall's array,
This glaring pile in all its pomp survey
The grandeur strikes—one must not look for taste—
What's gorgeous, cannot always be quite chaste.
Behold, his heart! it is not all that's fair
And smooth without, that's staunch and sound elsewhere.
E'en in the calmest breast, the lust of gold
May have its firmest seat and fastest hold,
May fix its fatal canker in the core,
Reach every feeling, taint it more and more;
Nor leave one spot of soundness where it falls,
Nor spark of pity where its lust enthralls.
Behold, his conscience! oh, what deep repose,
It slumbers on in one long deadly doze:
Why do you wonder that it thus does sleep;
That crime should prosper, or that guilt so deep,
So long unfelt should seem unscathed, in fine,
Should know no shame, and fear no law divine.
Is there a curse like that which shrines offence,
Which hardens crime and sears the moral sense,
And leaves the culprit in his guilt unshamed,
And takes him hence unchanged and unreclaimed.
Behold, the peace that's owned by him who feels
He does no wrong, or outrage when he deals
In human flesh; or yet supplies the gold
To stir the strife, whose victims you behold.
The Cuban merchant prosecutes his trade
Without a qualm, or a reproach being made;
Sits at his desk, and with composure sends
A formal order to his Gold-coast friends
For some five hundred "bultos" of effects,
And bids them ship "the goods" as he directs.
That human cargo, to its full amount,
Is duly bought and shipped on his account;
Stowed to the best advantage in the hold,
And limb to limb in chains, as you behold:
On every breast, the well-known brand, J. G.
In letters bold, engraved on flesh you see.
The slaves by times are in their fetters used
To dance and sing, and forcibly amused,
To make the negroes merry when they pine,
Or seem to brood o'er some concealed design.
And when the voyage to its close draws near,
No pains are spared to make the slaves appear
In fit condition for the market stall;
Their limbs are greased, their heads are shaved, and all
These naked wretches, wasted as they are,
And marked with many a recent wound and scar,
Are landed boldly on the coast, and soon
Are penned, like cattle, in the barracone.
Tricked out for sale and huddled in a mass,
Exposed to ev'ry broker who may pass,
Rudely examined, roused with the "courbash,"
And walked, and run, and startled with the lash,
Or ranged in line are sold by parcel there;
Spectres of men! the pictures of despair.
Their owner comes, "the royal merchant" deigns
To view his chattels, and to count his gains.
To him, what boots it, how these slaves were made,
What wrongs the poor have suffered by his trade.
To him, what boots it, if the sale is good,
How many perished in the fray of blood!
How many peaceful hamlets were attacked,
And poor defenceless villages were sacked!
How many wretched beings in each town
Maimed at the onslaught, or in flight cut down!
How many infants from the breast were torn,
And frenzied mothers dragged away forlorn!
To him, what boots it, how the ship is crammed;
How many hundreds in the hold are jammed!
How small the space! what piteous cries below!
What frightful tumult in that den of woe!
Or how the hatches when the gale comes on,
Are battened down, and ev'ry hope seems gone;
What struggling hands in vain are lifted there,
Or how the lips are parched that move in prayer,
Or mutter imprecations wild and dread,
On all around, the dying and the dead:
What cares the merchant for that crowded hold,
The voyage pays, if half the slaves are sold!
What does it matter to that proud senor,
How many sick have sunk to rise no more;
How many children in the waving throng.
Crushed in the crowd, or trampled by the strong!
What boots it, in that dungeon of despair,
How many beings gasp and pant for air!
How many creatures draw infected breath,
And drag out life, aye, in the midst of death!
Yet to look down, my God, one instant there,
The shrieks and groans of that live mass to hear;
To breathe that horrid atmosphere, and dwell
But for one moment in that human hell!
It matters little, if he sell the sound,
How many sick, that might not sell, were drowned;
How many wretched creatures pined away,
Or wasted bodies made their "plash" per day?
They're only negroes:—true, they count not here.
Perhaps, their cries and groans may count elsewhere,
And one on high may say for these and all,
A price was paid, and it redeemed from thrall.
If the proud "merchants who are princes" here,
Believe his word, or his commandments fear,
How can they dare to advocate this trade,
Or call the sacred scriptures to its aid.
How can they have the boldness to lay claim,
And boast their title to the christian name;
Or yet pretend to walk in reason's light,
And wage eternal war with human right.
The pen does all the business of the sword,
On Congo's shore, the Cuban merchant's word
Serves to send forth a thousand brigands bold,
"To make a prey," and fill another hold;
To ravage distant nations at his ease,
By written order, just as he may please:
"Set snares and traps to catch" his fellow-men
And "lie in wait" to link their fetters, then,
Send forth his agents to foment the strife
Of hostile tribes—and when their feuds are rife,
To waste a province to provide a prey,
Yet dare to make humanity his plea.
Is there no sacred minister of peace
To raise his voice, and bid these horrors cease?
No holy priest in all this ruthless clime,
To warn these men, or to denounce their crime?
No new Las Casas to be found once more,
To leave his country for this blood-stained shore;
And tell the titled felon of his deeds,
With all the freedom the occasion needs?
Alas! no voice is raised in Cuba—save
To plead for bondage, and revile the slave,
Basely to pander to oppression's aim,
And desecrate religion's sacred name.
Yet in this moral Golgotha, where round
The grave of mercy none but foes are found.
Some lone and weary pilgrim may have come,
And caused a voice to echo from this tomb.
From him, perhaps, the proud oppressors e'en
May hear the crimes, they still would strive to screen,
And find a corner of the veil they cast
O'er Cuban bondage has been raised—at last,
And some, perhaps, at length aroused may think,
With all their gold they stand on ruin's brink,
And learn, at last, to ask of their own breasts,
Why have they used their fellow-men like beasts;
Why should it be that each should thus "despise
His brother" man, and scoff "the stranger's cries?"
"Have they not all one Father who's above?
Hath not one God created them in love?
Are they not all in God's own image made,
Or were the words of life to be obeyed?"
Or held unworthy of the Lord on high,
"He that shall steal and sell a man shall die?"
Perhaps, fanatics only in their zeal,
May think that others, thus should speak or feel,
And none but zealots dream, that negroes' rights
Were God's own gifts, as well, as those of whites.
Perhaps, the Cuban merchants too, may think
In guilt's great chain, he's but the farthest link.
Forsooth, he sees not all the ills take place,
Nor goes in person to the human chase;
He does not hunt the negro down himself,
Of course, he only furnishes the pelf.
He does not watch the blazing huts beset,
Nor slips the horde at rapine's yell, nor yet
Selects the captives from the wretched band,
Nor spears the aged with his own right hand.
The orphan's cries, the wretched mother's groans,
He does not hear; nor sees the human bones
Strewed o'er the desert bleaching in the sun,
Memorials sad, of former murders done.
He does not brand the captives for the mart,
Nor stow the cargo—'tis the captain's part;
To him the middle passage only seems
A trip of pleasure that with profit teems;
Some sixty deaths or so, on board his ship,
Are bagatelles in such a gainful trip;
Nay, fifty thousand dollars he can boast,
The smallest cargo yields him from the coast.
He need not leave his counting-house, 'tis true,
Nor bid Havana and its joys adieu,
To start the hunt on Afric's burning shore,
And drench its soil with streams of human gore;
He need not part with friends and comrades here
To sever nature's dearest ties elsewhere;
Nor risk the loss of friendship with the host
Of foreign traders, when he sweeps the coast.
But this most grave and "excellent Senor,"
Is cap in hand with the official corps,
Receives the homage due to wealth that's gained,
No matter how, or where it be obtained.
His friends are too indulgent to proclaim
What deeds are coupled with his wide-spread fame.
'Tis true, he merely purchases the prey,
And kills by proxy only in the fray;
His agents simply snare the victims first,
They make the war, and he defrays the cost.
Such is the merchant in his trade of blood;
The Indian savage in his fiercest mood
Is not more cruel, merciless in strife,
Ruthless in war, and reckless of man's life!
To human suffering, sympathy, and shame,
His heart is closed, and wealth is all his aim.
Behold, him now in social circles shine,
Polite and courteous, bland—almost benign,
Calm as the grave, yet affable to all,
His well-taught smile has nothing to appal;
It plays like sunbeams on a marble tomb,
Or coldly glancing o'er the death-like gloom,
Creeps o'er his features, as the crisping air,
On Lake Asphaltes steals, and stagnates there.
Serene as summer how the Euxine looks
Before the gale its slumb'ring rage provokes.
Who would imagine, while the calm is there,
What deadly work its depths might still declare?
Or think, beneath such gently swelling waves
Thousands of human beings find their graves,
But who can ponder here, and reconcile
The scowl of murder, with its merchant's smile!
Behold, his friends! observe the kindred traits,
They must resemble, for one draught pourtrays
The tribe of Cuban traders, linked in crime
Of ev'ry grade in guilt, of every clime.
Stealers of men, and shedders of man's gore;
The more they grasp, the rage for gain the more,
Contagious guilt within their circle reigns,
And all in contact with it shows its stains.
Behold, the land! regard its fertile fields,
Look on the victims of the wealth it yields:
Ask of these creatures how they came to be
Dragged from their homes, and sold in slavery?
And when you hear "the cry" of men "go up."
"Robbed of their hire," and made to drink the cup
Of grief, whose bitter anguish is above
All human woe, the wretched can approve,
Think on their wrongs, and venture to reply,
"Shall not the land yet tremble" for this cry!
God of all light and truth, in mercy cause
The men who rule these lands to fear thy laws
O'erthrow oppression, stalled in guilty state;
Raise the poor stranger, spoiled and desolate.
Reprove the despot, and redeem the slave;
For help there's none, but thine that here can save.
Thou who can'st "loose the fettered in due time,"
Break down this bondage, yet forgive its crime;
Let truth and justice, fraught with mercy still,
Prevail at last o'er every tyrant's will.
His still and solemn features closely scan!
In his calm look how wisdom's light is shed,
How the grey hairs, become his honored head!
Mark how the merchants bow, as he goes by,
How men on 'Change, at his approach draw nigh,
"Highly respected," and esteemed; 'tis said,
His fame to Afric's farthest shore is spread!
Behold, his house:—if marble speak elsewhere,
"Sermons in stones" are with a vengeance here,
Whate'er the potent will of wealth can do
Or pride can wish, is offered to your view.
Those gay saloons, this banquet hall's array,
This glaring pile in all its pomp survey
The grandeur strikes—one must not look for taste—
What's gorgeous, cannot always be quite chaste.
Behold, his heart! it is not all that's fair
And smooth without, that's staunch and sound elsewhere.
E'en in the calmest breast, the lust of gold
May have its firmest seat and fastest hold,
May fix its fatal canker in the core,
Reach every feeling, taint it more and more;
Nor leave one spot of soundness where it falls,
Nor spark of pity where its lust enthralls.
Behold, his conscience! oh, what deep repose,
It slumbers on in one long deadly doze:
Why do you wonder that it thus does sleep;
That crime should prosper, or that guilt so deep,
So long unfelt should seem unscathed, in fine,
Should know no shame, and fear no law divine.
Is there a curse like that which shrines offence,
Which hardens crime and sears the moral sense,
And leaves the culprit in his guilt unshamed,
And takes him hence unchanged and unreclaimed.
Behold, the peace that's owned by him who feels
He does no wrong, or outrage when he deals
In human flesh; or yet supplies the gold
To stir the strife, whose victims you behold.
The Cuban merchant prosecutes his trade
Without a qualm, or a reproach being made;
Sits at his desk, and with composure sends
A formal order to his Gold-coast friends
For some five hundred "bultos" of effects,
And bids them ship "the goods" as he directs.
That human cargo, to its full amount,
Is duly bought and shipped on his account;
Stowed to the best advantage in the hold,
And limb to limb in chains, as you behold:
On every breast, the well-known brand, J. G.
In letters bold, engraved on flesh you see.
The slaves by times are in their fetters used
To dance and sing, and forcibly amused,
To make the negroes merry when they pine,
Or seem to brood o'er some concealed design.
And when the voyage to its close draws near,
No pains are spared to make the slaves appear
In fit condition for the market stall;
Their limbs are greased, their heads are shaved, and all
These naked wretches, wasted as they are,
And marked with many a recent wound and scar,
Are landed boldly on the coast, and soon
Are penned, like cattle, in the barracone.
Tricked out for sale and huddled in a mass,
Exposed to ev'ry broker who may pass,
Rudely examined, roused with the "courbash,"
And walked, and run, and startled with the lash,
Or ranged in line are sold by parcel there;
Spectres of men! the pictures of despair.
Their owner comes, "the royal merchant" deigns
To view his chattels, and to count his gains.
To him, what boots it, how these slaves were made,
What wrongs the poor have suffered by his trade.
To him, what boots it, if the sale is good,
How many perished in the fray of blood!
How many peaceful hamlets were attacked,
And poor defenceless villages were sacked!
How many wretched beings in each town
Maimed at the onslaught, or in flight cut down!
How many infants from the breast were torn,
And frenzied mothers dragged away forlorn!
To him, what boots it, how the ship is crammed;
How many hundreds in the hold are jammed!
How small the space! what piteous cries below!
What frightful tumult in that den of woe!
Or how the hatches when the gale comes on,
Are battened down, and ev'ry hope seems gone;
What struggling hands in vain are lifted there,
Or how the lips are parched that move in prayer,
Or mutter imprecations wild and dread,
On all around, the dying and the dead:
What cares the merchant for that crowded hold,
The voyage pays, if half the slaves are sold!
What does it matter to that proud senor,
How many sick have sunk to rise no more;
How many children in the waving throng.
Crushed in the crowd, or trampled by the strong!
What boots it, in that dungeon of despair,
How many beings gasp and pant for air!
How many creatures draw infected breath,
And drag out life, aye, in the midst of death!
Yet to look down, my God, one instant there,
The shrieks and groans of that live mass to hear;
To breathe that horrid atmosphere, and dwell
But for one moment in that human hell!
It matters little, if he sell the sound,
How many sick, that might not sell, were drowned;
How many wretched creatures pined away,
Or wasted bodies made their "plash" per day?
They're only negroes:—true, they count not here.
Perhaps, their cries and groans may count elsewhere,
And one on high may say for these and all,
A price was paid, and it redeemed from thrall.
If the proud "merchants who are princes" here,
Believe his word, or his commandments fear,
How can they dare to advocate this trade,
Or call the sacred scriptures to its aid.
How can they have the boldness to lay claim,
And boast their title to the christian name;
Or yet pretend to walk in reason's light,
And wage eternal war with human right.
The pen does all the business of the sword,
On Congo's shore, the Cuban merchant's word
Serves to send forth a thousand brigands bold,
"To make a prey," and fill another hold;
To ravage distant nations at his ease,
By written order, just as he may please:
"Set snares and traps to catch" his fellow-men
And "lie in wait" to link their fetters, then,
Send forth his agents to foment the strife
Of hostile tribes—and when their feuds are rife,
To waste a province to provide a prey,
Yet dare to make humanity his plea.
Is there no sacred minister of peace
To raise his voice, and bid these horrors cease?
No holy priest in all this ruthless clime,
To warn these men, or to denounce their crime?
No new Las Casas to be found once more,
To leave his country for this blood-stained shore;
And tell the titled felon of his deeds,
With all the freedom the occasion needs?
Alas! no voice is raised in Cuba—save
To plead for bondage, and revile the slave,
Basely to pander to oppression's aim,
And desecrate religion's sacred name.
Yet in this moral Golgotha, where round
The grave of mercy none but foes are found.
Some lone and weary pilgrim may have come,
And caused a voice to echo from this tomb.
From him, perhaps, the proud oppressors e'en
May hear the crimes, they still would strive to screen,
And find a corner of the veil they cast
O'er Cuban bondage has been raised—at last,
And some, perhaps, at length aroused may think,
With all their gold they stand on ruin's brink,
And learn, at last, to ask of their own breasts,
Why have they used their fellow-men like beasts;
Why should it be that each should thus "despise
His brother" man, and scoff "the stranger's cries?"
"Have they not all one Father who's above?
Hath not one God created them in love?
Are they not all in God's own image made,
Or were the words of life to be obeyed?"
Or held unworthy of the Lord on high,
"He that shall steal and sell a man shall die?"
Perhaps, fanatics only in their zeal,
May think that others, thus should speak or feel,
And none but zealots dream, that negroes' rights
Were God's own gifts, as well, as those of whites.
Perhaps, the Cuban merchants too, may think
In guilt's great chain, he's but the farthest link.
Forsooth, he sees not all the ills take place,
Nor goes in person to the human chase;
He does not hunt the negro down himself,
Of course, he only furnishes the pelf.
He does not watch the blazing huts beset,
Nor slips the horde at rapine's yell, nor yet
Selects the captives from the wretched band,
Nor spears the aged with his own right hand.
The orphan's cries, the wretched mother's groans,
He does not hear; nor sees the human bones
Strewed o'er the desert bleaching in the sun,
Memorials sad, of former murders done.
He does not brand the captives for the mart,
Nor stow the cargo—'tis the captain's part;
To him the middle passage only seems
A trip of pleasure that with profit teems;
Some sixty deaths or so, on board his ship,
Are bagatelles in such a gainful trip;
Nay, fifty thousand dollars he can boast,
The smallest cargo yields him from the coast.
He need not leave his counting-house, 'tis true,
Nor bid Havana and its joys adieu,
To start the hunt on Afric's burning shore,
And drench its soil with streams of human gore;
He need not part with friends and comrades here
To sever nature's dearest ties elsewhere;
Nor risk the loss of friendship with the host
Of foreign traders, when he sweeps the coast.
But this most grave and "excellent Senor,"
Is cap in hand with the official corps,
Receives the homage due to wealth that's gained,
No matter how, or where it be obtained.
His friends are too indulgent to proclaim
What deeds are coupled with his wide-spread fame.
'Tis true, he merely purchases the prey,
And kills by proxy only in the fray;
His agents simply snare the victims first,
They make the war, and he defrays the cost.
Such is the merchant in his trade of blood;
The Indian savage in his fiercest mood
Is not more cruel, merciless in strife,
Ruthless in war, and reckless of man's life!
To human suffering, sympathy, and shame,
His heart is closed, and wealth is all his aim.
Behold, him now in social circles shine,
Polite and courteous, bland—almost benign,
Calm as the grave, yet affable to all,
His well-taught smile has nothing to appal;
It plays like sunbeams on a marble tomb,
Or coldly glancing o'er the death-like gloom,
Creeps o'er his features, as the crisping air,
On Lake Asphaltes steals, and stagnates there.
Serene as summer how the Euxine looks
Before the gale its slumb'ring rage provokes.
Who would imagine, while the calm is there,
What deadly work its depths might still declare?
Or think, beneath such gently swelling waves
Thousands of human beings find their graves,
But who can ponder here, and reconcile
The scowl of murder, with its merchant's smile!
Behold, his friends! observe the kindred traits,
They must resemble, for one draught pourtrays
The tribe of Cuban traders, linked in crime
Of ev'ry grade in guilt, of every clime.
Stealers of men, and shedders of man's gore;
The more they grasp, the rage for gain the more,
Contagious guilt within their circle reigns,
And all in contact with it shows its stains.
Behold, the land! regard its fertile fields,
Look on the victims of the wealth it yields:
Ask of these creatures how they came to be
Dragged from their homes, and sold in slavery?
And when you hear "the cry" of men "go up."
"Robbed of their hire," and made to drink the cup
Of grief, whose bitter anguish is above
All human woe, the wretched can approve,
Think on their wrongs, and venture to reply,
"Shall not the land yet tremble" for this cry!
God of all light and truth, in mercy cause
The men who rule these lands to fear thy laws
O'erthrow oppression, stalled in guilty state;
Raise the poor stranger, spoiled and desolate.
Reprove the despot, and redeem the slave;
For help there's none, but thine that here can save.
Thou who can'st "loose the fettered in due time,"
Break down this bondage, yet forgive its crime;
Let truth and justice, fraught with mercy still,
Prevail at last o'er every tyrant's will.
The Real Buffalo Soldiers
Buffalo Soldiers originally were members of the U.S. 10th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army, formed on September 21, 1866 at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. The nickname was given to the "Negro Cavalry" by the Native American tribes they fought; the term eventually became synonymous with all of the African-American regiments formed in 1866;
- 9th Cavalry Regiment
- 10th Cavalry Regiment
- 24th Infantry Regiment
- 25th Infantry Regiment
Although several African-American regiments were raised during the Civil War to fight alongside the Union Army (including the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry and the many United States Colored Troops Regiments), the "Buffalo Soldiers" were established by Congress as the first peacetime all-black regiments in the regular U.S. Army. On September 6, 2005, Mark Matthews, who was the oldest living Buffalo Soldier, died at the age of 111. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
Sources disagree on how the nickname "Buffalo Soldiers" began. According to the Buffalo Soldiers National Museum, the name originated with the Cheyenne warriors in the winter of 1867, the actual Cheyenne translation being "Wild Buffalo." However, writer Walter Hill documented the account of Colonel Benjamin Grierson, who founded the 10th Cavalry regiment, recalling an 1871 campaign against the Comanche tribe. Hill attributed the origin of the name to the Comanche due to Grierson's assertions. Some sources assert that the nickname was given out of respect for the fierce fighting ability of the 10th cavalry. Other sources assert that Native Americans called the black cavalry troops "buffalo soldiers" because of their dark curly hair, which resembled a buffalo's coat. Still other sources point to a combination of both legends. The term Buffalo Soldiers became a generic term for all African-American soldiers. It is now used for U.S. Army units that trace their direct lineage back to the 9th and 10th Cavalry, units whose service earned them an honored place in U.S. history.
During the American Civil War, the U.S. government formed regiments known as the United States Colored Troops, composed of black soldiers. After the war, Congress reorganized the Army and authorized the formation of two regiments of black cavalry with the designations 9th and 10th U.S. Cavalry, and four regiments of black infantry, designated the 38th, 39th, 40th and 41st Infantry Regiments (Colored). The 38th and 41st were reorganized as the 25th Infantry Regiment, with headquarters in Jackson Barracks in New Orleans, Louisiana, in November 1869. The 39th and 40th were reorganized as the 24th Infantry Regiment, with headquarters at Fort Clark, Texas, in April 1869. All of these units were composed of black enlisted men commanded by both white and black officers. These included the first commander of the 10th Cavalry Benjamin Grierson, the first commander of the 9th Cavalry Edward Hatch, Medal of Honor winner Louis H. Carpenter, the unforgettable Nicholas M. Nolan and the first black graduate of West Point Henry O. Flipper.
From 1866 to the early 1890s, these regiments served at a variety of posts in the Southwestern United States (Apache Wars) and Great Plains regions. They participated in most of the military campaigns in these areas and earned a distinguished record. Thirteen enlisted men and six officers from these four regiments earned the Medal of Honor during the Indian Wars. In addition to the military campaigns, the "Buffalo Soldiers" served a variety of roles along the frontier from building roads to escorting the U.S. mail. On 17 April 1875, regimental headquarters for the 9th and 10th Cavalries were transferred to Fort Concho, Texas. Companies actually arrived at Fort Concho in May 1873. At various times from 1873 through 1885, Fort Concho housed 9th Cavalry companies A–F, K, and M, 10th Cavalry companies A, D–G, I, L, and M, 24th Infantry companies D–G, and K, and 25th Infantry companies G and K.
A lesser known action was the 9th Cavalry's participation in the fabled Johnson County War, an 1892 land war in Johnson County, Wyoming between small farmers and large, wealthy ranchers. It culminated in a lengthy shootout between local farmers, a band of hired killers, and a sheriff's posse. The 6th Cavalry was ordered in by President Benjamin Harrison to quell the violence and capture the band of hired killers. Soon afterward, however, the 9th Cavalry was specifically called on to replace the 6th. The 6th Cavalry was swaying under the local political and social pressures and was unable to keep the peace in the tense environment. The Buffalo Soldiers responded within about two weeks from Nebraska, and moved the men to the rail town of Suggs, Wyoming, creating "Camp Bettens" despite a racist and hostile local population. One soldier was killed and two wounded in gun battles with locals. Nevertheless, the 9th Cavalry remained in Wyoming for nearly a year to quell tensions in the area.
1898-1918
After the Indian Wars ended in the 1890s, the regiments continued to serve and participated in the
1898 Spanish-American War (including the Battle of San Juan Hill) in Cuba, where five more Medals of Honor were earned.
The regiments took part in the Philippine-American War from 1899 to 1903 and the 1916 Mexican Expedition.
In 1918 the 10th Cavalry fought at the Battle of Ambos Nogales, where they assisted in forcing the surrender of the federal Mexican and German forces. Buffalo soldiers fought in the last engagement of the Indian Wars; the small Battle of Bear Valley in southern Arizona which occurred in 1918 between U.S. cavalry and Yaqui natives
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Little Rock 'Nine' - Segregated Schools
The Little Rock Nine was a group of African-American students who were enrolled in Little Rock Central High School in 1957. The ensuing Little Rock Crisis, in which the students were initially prevented from entering the racially segregated school by Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus, and then attended after the intervention of President Eisenhower, is considered to be one of the most important events in the African-American Civil Rights Movement.
Supreme Court Decision
The U.S. Supreme Court issued its historic Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U.S. 483, on May 17, 1954. The decision declared all laws establishing segregated schools to be unconstitutional, and it called for the desegregation of all schools throughout the nation. After the decision the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) attempted to register black students in previously all-white schools in cities throughout the South. In Little Rock, the capital city of Arkansas, the Little Rock School Board agreed to comply with the high court's ruling. Virgil Blossom, the Superintendent of Schools, submitted a plan of gradual integration to the school board on May 24, 1955, which the board unanimously approved. The plan would be implemented during the 1958 school year, which would begin in September 1957. By 1957, the NAACP had registered nine black students to attend the previously all-white Little Rock Central High, selected on the criteria of excellent grades and attendance.
The nicknamed "Little Rock Nine" consisted of Ernest Green (b. 1941), Elizabeth Eckford (b. 1941), Jefferson Thomas (b. 1942), Terrence Roberts (b. 1941), Carlotta Walls LaNier (b. 1942), Minnijean Brown (b. 1941), Gloria Ray Karlmark (b. 1942), Thelma Mothershed (b. 1940), and Melba Beals (b. 1941). Ernest Green was the first African American to graduate from Central High School.
National Guard Blockade
Several segregationist councils threatened to hold protests at Central High and physically block the black students from entering the school. Governor Orval Faubus deployed the Arkansas National Guard to support the segregationists on September 4, 1957. The sight of a line of soldiers blocking nine black students from attending high school made national headlines and polarized the city. Regarding the accompanying crowd, one of the nine black students, Elizabeth Eckford, recalled "they moved closer and closer". "Somebody started yelling"' I tried to see a friendly face somewhere in the crowd — someone who maybe could help. I looked into the face of an old woman and it seemed a kind face, but when I looked at her again, she spat on me." On September 9, "The Council of Church Women" issued a statement condemning the governor's deployment of soldiers to the high school and called for a citywide prayer service on September 12. Even President Dwight Eisenhower attempted to de-escalate the situation and summoned Governor Faubus to meet him. The President warned the governor not to interfere with the Supreme Court's ruling.
Armed Escort
The next day, Woodrow Mann, the Mayor of Little Rock, asked President Eisenhower to send federal troops to enforce integration and protect the nine students. On September 24, the President ordered the 101st Airborne Division of the United States Army to Little Rock and federalized the entire 10,000 member Arkansas National Guard, taking it out of the hands of Governor Faubus. The 101st took positions immediately, and the nine students successfully entered the school on the next day, Wednesday, September 25, 1957.
"Nine Negro students attended Little Rock Central High School last week for the first time in history. They arrived at the school Wednesday, September 25, accompanied by crack paratroopers of the U.S. Army's 101st Airborne Division. An Army station wagon carried the students to the front entrance of the building while an Army helicopter circled overhead and 350 armed paratroopers stood at parade rest around the building."
A Tense Year
By the end of September 1957, the nine were admitted to Little Rock Central High under the protection of the U.S. Army (and later the Arkansas National Guard), but they were still subjected to a year of physical and verbal abuse (spitting on them, calling them names) by many of the white students. Melba Pattillo had acid thrown into her eyes. Another one of the students, Minnijean Brown, was verbally confronted and abused. She said "I was one of the kids 'approved' by the school officials. We were told we would have to take a lot and were warned not to fight back if anything happened. One girl ran up to me and said, 'I'm so glad you’re here. Won’t you go to lunch with me today?' I never saw her again." Minnijean Brown was also taunted by members of a group of white, male students in December 1957 in the school cafeteria during lunch. She dropped her lunch – a bowl of chili – onto the boys and was suspended for six days. Two months later, after more confrontation, Brown was suspended for the rest of the school year. She transferred to New Lincoln High School in New York City. As depicted in the 1981 made-for-TV docudrama Crisis at Central High, white students were only punished when their offense was "both egregious and witnessed by an adult".
Governor Faubus
Governor Faubus' opposition to desegregation may have been politically and racially motivated. Faubus had indicated that he would consider bringing Arkansas into compliance with the high court's decision in 1956. However, desegregation was opposed by his own southern conservative Democratic Party, which dominated all Southern politics at the time. Faubus risked losing political support in the upcoming 1958 Democratic gubernatorial primary if he showed support for integration. Most histories of the crisis conclude that Faubus, facing pressure as he campaigned for a third term, decided to appease racist elements in the state by calling out the National Guard to prevent the black students from entering Central High.
Harry Ashmore, the editor of the Arkansas Gazette, won a 1958 Pulitzer Prize for his editorials on the crisis. Ashmore portrayed the fight over Central High as a crisis manufactured by Faubus; in his interpretation, Faubus used the Arkansas National Guard to keep black children out of Central High School because he was frustrated by the success his political opponents were having in using segregationist rhetoric to stir white voters. Congressman Brooks Hays, who tried to mediate between the federal government and Faubus, was later defeated by a last minute write-in candidate, Dale Alford, a member of the Little Rock School Board who had the backing of Faubus's allies. A few years later, despite the incident with the "Little Rock Nine", Faubus ran as a moderate segregationist against Dale Alford, who was challenging Faubus for the Democratic nomination for governor in 1962.
Sunday, 25 April 2010
Madam C. J. Walker - Black Inventor
Madam C.J. Walker (December 23, 1867 – May 25, 1919) was an African-American businesswoman, hair care entrepreneur and philanthropist. She made her fortune by developing and marketing a hugely successful line of beauty and hair products for black women under the company she founded, Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company. The Guinness Book of Records cites Walker as the first female who became a millionaire by her own achievements.
She was born Sarah Breedlove in Delta, Louisiana. She was the first member of her family to be born free, to parents who had been slaves. By the time she was seven, both of her parents had died. (Some sources claim that they died of yellow fever, but that information is not correct.) Her mother died first, probably of cholera. Her father then remarried and died shortly afterward. The exact cause of death is unknown and no death certificate exists for either. At age 14, Sarah Breedlove married a man named Moses McWilliams and was widowed at age 20. The cause of Moses's death is unknown. Although some sources claim he was lynched or murdered, there is absolutely no documentation or evidence to support this. Sarah Breedlove McWilliams then moved to St. Louis, Missouri to join her brothers. Sarah worked as a laundress for as little as a dollar and a half a day, but she was able to save enough to educate her daughter. While living in St. Louis, she joined St. Paul's African Methodist Episcopal Church, which helped develop her speaking, interpersonal and organizational skills.
Around the time of the St. Louis 1904 World's Fair, she worked as a sales agent for Annie Malone, another black woman entrepreneur who manufactured hair care products. Unsatisfied with Malone's products, Sarah began to experiment with her own formulas. Later some sources say she consulted with a Denver pharmacist, who, may have analyzed Malone's formula and helped Walker formulate her own products. In addition, she often told reporters that the ingredients for her "Wonderful Hair Grower" had come to her in a dream. In 1906 she married Charles Joseph Walker, a St. Louis newspaperman , and changed her name to "Madam C.J. Walker". She founded the Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company to sell hair care products and cosmetics. She and Charles Joseph Walker left Denver in 1906 after her daughter, A'Lelia McWilliams (who later changed her surname to Walker), had arrived in Colorado to run the Denver office. Madam Walker and her husband traveled for a year and a half until they settled in Pittsburgh, where they opened the first Lelia College of Beauty Culture, named after her daughter. In 1910 Walker moved her growing manufacturing operation to Indianapolis, IN where she built a new factory. In 1912 she divorced her husband.
'I am a woman who came from the cotton fields of the South. From there I was promoted to the washtub. From there I was promoted to the cook kitchen. And from there I promoted myself into the business of manufacturing hair goods and preparations...I have built my own factory on my own ground.'
Walker saw her personal wealth not as an end in itself, but as a means to promote economic opportunities for others, especially women and African Americans. She took great pride in the profitable employment — and alternative to domestic labor — that her company afforded many thousands of black women who worked as commissioned agents. Her agents could earn at least $5 to $15 per day in an era when unskilled white laborers were making about $11 per week. Marjorie Joyner, who started work as one of her employees, went on to lead the next generation of African-American beauty entrepreneurs.
Walker was known for her philanthropy, setting aside in a trust two-thirds of her estate to educational institutions and charities, including the NAACP, the Tuskegee Institute and Bethune-Cookman College. In 1919, her $5,000 pledge to the NAACP's anti-lynching campaign was the largest gift the organization had ever received. Walker had a mansion called "Villa Lewaro" built in the wealthy New York suburb of Irvington on Hudson, New York, near the estates of John D. Rockefeller and Jay Gould. Today that home is a private residence and a [National Historic Landmark]. She spent tens of thousands of dollars on furnishings. The Italianate villa was designed by architect Vertner Tandy, the first licensed black architect in the state of New York, in 1915. Walker also owned houses in Indianapolis and New York.
Madam Walker died on May 25, 1919, at age 51, at her estate Villa Lewaro from kidney failure and other complications related to a long battle with hypertension. She was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. Her daughter A'Lelia Walker carried on the tradition of hospitality, opening her mother's home and her own to writers, actors, musicians and artists of the emergent Harlem Renaissance. She promoted important members of that movement. She converted a section of her Harlem townhouse at 108-110 West 136th Street into the Dark Tower, a salon and tearoom where Harlem and Greenwich Village artists, writers and musicians gathered. Poet Langston Hughes called her "The joy goddess of Harlem's 1920s" in his autobiography The Big Sea, because of the lavish parties she hosted in Harlem and Irvington.
Ms. Walker was inducted into the Junior Achievement U.S. Business Hall of Fame in 1992 and in 2002, Molefi Kete Asante listed Madam C. J. Walker on his list of 100 Greatest African Americans. She also has been inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame, the National Cosmetology Hall of Fame and the National Direct Sales Hall of Fame. On 28 January 1998 the USPS, as part of its Black Heritage Series, issued the Madam C.J. Walker Commemorative stamp. On 16 March 2010, Congressman Charles Rangel introduced HJ81, a Congressional House Joint Resolution, honoring Madam C. J. Walker. That legislation currently awaits a vote.
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