most believed in and
cared for. He was not one of those who had brought on the trouble; his
whole attitude had been defensive. He and his Army of Northern Virginia
were the shield of the South. A skilful commander, strong to strike and
wary to ward; his personality merged in the cause; gentle as he was
strong,--his army trusted and followed him with a faith that grew with
every victory, and did not wane under reverses.

Let the negroes in the war-time be judged in the calm retrospect of
history. Their fidelity meant the security of the families on every
lonely plantation from Virginia to Texas.

Instead of the horror of servile insurrection, women and children were
safe in their homes, supported and protected by their servants. It was
their labor that made it possible for the whole white population to take
the field. It was their fidelity and kindliness that kept the social
structure sound, even though pierced and plowed by the sword. Their
conduct was a practical refutation of the belief that they were in
general sufferers from inhuman treatment. It was a proof that slavery
had included better influences than its opponents had recognized. But it
suggested, too, that a people capable of such things under slavery were
fully ready for an upward step, and might be trusted with freedom.

They gave another proof of fitness for freedom when, enlisted in the
Union armies, they showed the qualities of good soldiership. They
accepted discipline, and developed under it. They were brave in battle,
and in victory they were guiltless of excess. It was a wonderful epoch
in the race's history,--the transition from servitude to freedom,--and
in that ordeal, first as slaves and then as soldiers, they showed
themselves worthy of the deliverance that had come at last.

As soldiers, they found leaders in the flower of the North. Such was
Robert Gould Shaw, of the best blood and training of Massachusetts; a
son of Harvard; serving from the first as private and then as captain;
called by Governor Andrew in 1863 to the command of the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts, the first black regiment mustered into service; taking a
place which risked not battle peril only but social obloquy; training
his recruits into soldiers; leading them in a hopeless onset against the
batteries of Fort Wagner; falling at their head; buried in a ditch with
his men; honored in an immortal sculpture which portrays the young,
highbred hero in the midst of the humble, fai