ion, he recommended dishonorable
discharge for the regiment. On this recommendation President Roosevelt
on November 9 dismissed "without honor" the entire battalion,
disqualifying its members for service thereafter in either the military
or the civil employ of the United States. When Congress met in December
Senator J.B. Foraker of Ohio placed himself at the head of the critics
of the President's action, and in a ringing speech said of the
discharged men that "they asked no favors because they were Negroes, but
only justice because they were men." On January 22 the Senate authorized
a general investigation of the whole matter, a special message from
the President on the 14th having revoked the civil disability of the
discharged soldiers. The case was finally disposed of by a congressional
act approved March 3, 1909, which appointed a court of inquiry before
which any discharged man who wished to reenlist had the burden of
establishing his innocence--a procedure which clearly violated the
fundamental principle in law that a man is to be accounted innocent
until he is proved guilty.

In connection with the dishonored soldier of Brownsville, and indeed
with reference to the Negro throughout the period, we recall Edwin
Markham's poem, "Dreyfus,"[1] written for a far different occasion but
with fundamental principles of justice that are eternal:

[Footnote 1: It is here quoted with the permission of the author and
in the form in which it originally appeared in _McClure's Magazine_,
September, 1899.]

I

A man stood stained; France was one Alp of hate,
Pressing upon him with the whole world's weight;
In all the circle of the ancient sun
There was no voice to speak for him--not one;
In all the world of men there was no sound
But of a sword flung broken to the ground.

Hell laughed its little hour; and then behold
How one by one the guarded gates unfold!
Swiftly a sword by Unseen Forces hurled,
And now a man rising against the world!

II

Oh, import deep as life is, deep as time!
There is a Something sacred and sublime
Moving behind the worlds, beyond our ken,
Weighing the stars, weighing the deeds of men.

Take heart, O soul of sorrow, and be strong!
There is one greater than the whole world's wrong.
Be hushed before the high Benignant Power
That moves wool-shod through sepulcher and tower!
No truth so low but He will give it crown;
No wrong so high but He will hurl i