ards long, lay the dead bodies of 543 of my colored comrades, slain in
the defense of their country, who had laid down their lives to uphold
its flag and its honor, as a willing sacrifice. And as I rode along,
guiding my horse this way and that, lest he should profane with his
hoofs what seemed to me the sacred dead, and as I looked at their
bronzed faces upturned in the shining sun, as if in mute appeal against
the wrongs of the country for which they had given their lives, and
whose flag had been to them a flag of stripes, in which no star of glory
had ever shone for them--feeling I had wronged them in the past, and
believing what was the future duty of my country to them,--I swore to
myself a solemn oath: 'May my right hand forget its cunning, and my
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if ever I fail to defend the
rights of the men who have given their blood for me and my country this
day and for their race forever.' And, God helping me, I will keep that
oath."

* * * * *

History further repeats itself in the fact that in every war so far
known to this country, the first blood, and, in some cases, the last
also, has been shed by the faithful Negro, and this in spite of all the
years of bondage and oppression, and of wrongs unspeakable. Under the
sun there has nothing been known in the history of any people more
marvellous than these facts!

Oh, to the living few,
Comrades, be just, be true.
Hail them as heroes tried,
Fight with them side by side;
Never in field or tent,
Scorn the Black Regiment.

It is but a little thing to ask, they could ask no less: _be just_; but,
oh, the shame of it for those who need be asked!

There is no need for panegyric, for sounding phrases or rounded periods.
The simple story is eloquent with all that is necessary to make the
heart swell with pride. In the hour allotted me to fill, it is possible
only to indicate in skeleton the worth of the Negro as a soldier. If
this brief sketch should awaken even a few to interest in his
achievements, and one be found willing and fitted to write the history
that is their due, that writer shall achieve immortality.

AN ADDRESS AT THE UNVEILING OF THE ROBERT GOULD SHAW MONUMENT[23]

BY BOOKER T. WASHINGTON, A. M., LL.D.

[Note 23: An address by Booker T. Washington, A. M., delivered on
the occasion of the unveiling of the Robert Gould Shaw Monument, Boston,
Mass., May 31, 1897.]

_Mr. Chairman and Fello