not to bear. The
twenty-five men were carefully selected from among those not employed
either on the fort or in the Quartermaster's Department, and put on
board. Amid the farewells and benedictions of hundreds of their friends
on shore they took their departure, to prove the truth or falsity of
the charge, 'The black man can never fight.' On calling the roll, a
few miles from port, it was found our twenty-five men had increased
to fifty-four. Determined not to be foiled in their purpose of being
soldiers, it was found that thirty men had quietly found their way on
board just at break of day, and had concealed themselves in the hold of
the ship. When asked why they did so, their reply was,--

"'Oh, we want to fight for our liberty, and for de liberty of our wives
and children.'

"'But would you dare to face your old masters?'

"'Oh, yes, yes! why, we would fight to de death to get our families,'
was the quick response.

"No one doubted their sincerity. Muskets were soon in their hands, and
no time was lost in drilling them. Our steamer, a very frail one, had
been barricaded around the bow and stern, and also provided with two
twelve-pounder Parrott guns. These guns had to be worked by black men,
under the direction of the captain of the steamer. Our fighting men
numbered only about one hundred and ten, and fifty of them were raw
recruits. The expedition was not a very formidable one, still all seemed
to have an unusual degree of confidence as to its success.

* * * * *

"_November_ 6. The women and children (about fifty) taken from St.
Simond's on the day previous were now landed for safety in St.
Catharine's, as a more hazardous work was to be undertaken. Much of the
night was spent in getting wood for the steamer, killing beeves, and
cooking meats, rice, and corn, for our women and children on shore, and
for the troops. The men needed no 'driver's lash' to incite them to
labor. Sleep and rest were almost unwelcome, for they were preparing to
go up Sapelo River, along whose banks, on the beautiful plantations,
were their fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives, and children.
Weeks and months before, some of the men had left those loved ones, with
a promise to return, 'if de good Lord jis open de way.'

"At five o'clock on Friday morning, November 7, we were under way.
Captain Budd, of the gun-boat Potomska, had kindly promised the evening
before to accompany us past the most da