Tuesday, February 19, 2019

Negroes, Race, and Ethnicity in Illinois and the North during the Civil War (1861-1865).

A significant number of Negroes fled Illinois in the years leading up to the Civil War due to the state’s zealous enforcement of the fugitive slave law (Illinois' Black Codes). Illinois had never been a hospitable environment for Negroes. The French had brought slavery to the Illinois Country, and the first Illinois legislature had obliged all Negroes settling in the state to produce a certificate of freedom. Blacks found without proper papers were advertised in newspapers and hired out as laborers. Negroes could not testify against whites in court. But the fugitive slave law, approved in 1850, obliged northerners to help southern slaveholders return their runaway property to bondage. The law also provided many slave catchers with an opportunity to seize black residents of Illinois on the street and sell them into slavery (the reverse underground railroad). Only the wariest and astute Negro could produce his freedom papers on demand at all times and rebuff the slave catchers. These conditions helped to produce a small population of black Illinoisans, which at the start of the Civil War numbered only 7,628, less than one-half of one percent (> 0.5%) of the state’s inhabitants.

But the outbreak of the Civil War soon changed this pattern of black out-migration. By 1862 southern slaves, freed by Union troops and now regarded as contraband of war, made their way north to Illinois. Cairo became the focal point of this immigration. While Illinois state law still prohibited black migration into the state, martial law-governed Cairo, and a large federal camp devoted to contrabands grew there.
Illinois Central Railroad embarkation.
Every day the Illinois Central Railroad carried several carloads of Negroes north to Chicago, Rock Island, and other urban centers. But the white population of Illinois rose up in outrage and demanded that political leaders put a stop to the black migration. In February of 1863 local officials convicted six Negroes of living in Carthage, in western Illinois, in violation of the state’s black laws, and sold them to the highest bidders. These actions quickly ended the influx of black immigrants to Illinois.

Some of the Negro men remaining in Illinois proved eager to volunteer for the Union army, but the Illinois militia made no provision for black enlistment. Many abolitionists supported blacks’ cause, but not even the Prairie State’s initial burst of patriotism was enough to find a place for Negro soldiers. Most white northerners believed that blacks were unintelligent and prone to cowardice and hence would make poor soldiers. Others believed that the war would wrap up quickly, making blacks unnecessary participants.

Changes in federal policy began to clear the way for black participation in the struggle. President Lincoln, intent upon a war for Union alone, had originally instructed officers to return slaves to their owners. But the Confiscation Act of March 1862 prohibited these returns. As freed slaves began to enter Union lines as “contraband,” northern officers and politicians began to discuss their ability to work in support of Union forces, digging trenches, driving horses, and cooking meals. By July of 1862, Congress had authorized the president “to receive into the service of the United States, for the purpose of constructing entrenchments, or performing camp duty, or any other labor…. Persons of African descent.” The law provided that Negro laborers be paid ten dollars a month, three dollars of which might pay for clothing, as compared to a white private’s monthly wage of thirteen dollars, plus a clothing allowance of three dollars and fifty cents.

As the war developed from a struggle to preserve the Union into a larger conflict to destroy slavery, federal officials came to accept the use of black troops. Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, first announced in the fall of 1862 and enacted on January 1, 1863, finally enabled black soldiers to form their own military regiments. White social customs dictated that these units be segregated. Indeed, Lincoln himself continued to press the colonization of freed slaves in Africa as a solution to the question of their future disposition in the United States. Nevertheless, Negroes saw their chance to serve.

Many whites feared that arming black soldiers threatened the nation’s system of white supremacy. While army labor did not diverge significantly from blacks’ usual roles as laborers and servants, military service elevated blacks in two important ways. First, many whites simply feared that armed Negroes might turn upon the whites that had treated them so poorly. This anxiety remained a fixture in the slaveholding South, particularly in regions in which slave populations greatly outnumbered white. But northern whites also flinched at the prospect of arming black men.

As significantly, military service elevated Negroes to visible equality with whites. Just as the war marked a rite of passage for white men, an opportunity to prove their courage, it also provided blacks with an opportunity to disprove popular white stereotypes. The Chicago Tribune, a Republican standard, appealed to these motives when it urged black men to set right “the slanders that have annulled their race and to prove in their own persons, as their brethren have elsewhere done, that beneath black skin rest great qualifications now needed by the Republic to defend itself…” Joseph Stanley, a black man from Chicago, read the Tribune’s recruiting message but wrote that the state had no right to ask for Negroes’ military service as long as its black codes remained on the books.

The federal policy stipulated that black troops be raised in federal, not state units. Despite their federal organization, black recruits counted toward states’ enlistment quotas, which meant that black enlistment could help to stave off the draft of white men in states like Illinois. As one soldier recalled “Just in proportion as the certainty of a draft increased, did the prejudice against Negro soldiers decrease. It was discovered that Negroes were not only loyal persons and good mule drivers but exceedingly competent to bear arms.”

Freed slaves in low country South Carolina manned the first black regiment in the Union Army, the Thirty-third U.S. Colored Infantry, mustered into service in January of 1863. Free and slave blacks, led by an officer corps of whites and blacks, formed the First Louisiana Native Guards, later renamed the Seventy-third U.S. Colored Infantry in September 1862. In the spring of 1863, the federal government began a major effort to recruit black soldiers in the Mississippi Valley.

Galesburg, an abolitionist hotbed, raised a significant number of Negro troops. Many black Illinoisans joined eastern units, but the low pay and negligible enlistment bounties offered black soldiers slowed recruitment. Those who did enlist were usually laborers faced with few future prospects. An army enlistment promised regular pay and shelter. One author has concluded that “It does not appear that patriotism, a desire to serve Illinois, or a wish to help other blacks gain freedom were important considerations.”

The Twenty-ninth U.S. Colored Infantry made up the first unit of Illinois Negroes to take the field. Recruited from across the state, with a number of Missourians and others mixed in, the unit departed Chicago in April of 1863, bound for Baltimore. One observer’s account reveals the state of racial attitudes in Illinois at the time. The “gallant regiment of black and Blue boys” was accompanied “by a vast throng of especial admirers, including a large number of females of African descent of all shades presenting a practical result of the theory and practice of miscegenation.”

The Twenty-ninth joined Grant’s Army of the Potomac just as the general took up his protracted and bloody assault on the Confederate homeland. Where his predecessors had invariably withdrawn after a battle marked by heavy losses, Grant pressed forward.
Scene from Battle of the Wilderness, fought May 5–7, 1864, was the first battle of Lt. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's 1864 Virginia Overland Campaign against Gen. Robert E. Lee and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia.
In early May of 1864, the battles of the Wilderness and Spotsylvania had cost Grant thirty thousand casualties and made him eager for replacements. Thus Illinois’ inexperienced black troops took the field in the middle of the war’s deadliest chapter.

Many of the white troops they met had never seen black soldiers before. One white soldier reported his reaction: “As I looked at them, my soul was troubled and I would gladly have seen them marched back to Washington. Can we not fight our own battles, without calling on these humble hewers of wood and drawers of water, to be bayonetted by the unsparing Southerners? We do not trust them in battle…. They have been put to guard the trains and have repulsed one or two little cavalry attacks in a creditable manner, but God help them if the gray-backed infantry attacks them!” While this account reveals the depth of white racism prevalent in the ranks at this time, it also provides a telling, if unintentional account, of the great respect, and even fear, this soldier accorded his Confederate opponents.

Most white soldiers initially rejected Negroes as brothers in arms. But many came to accept them with some reluctance as the war ground on. One of General Grant’s aides reported “The display of soldierly qualities [shown by the blacks] won a frank acknowledgment from both troops and commanders, not all of whom had been willing to look upon negroes as comrades.”

The Twenty-ninth settled into duty in the lines before Petersburg, Virginia as General Grant prepared his siege of Richmond’s principal rail link to the rest of the Confederacy. One white soldier offered an interesting point of view on his black comrades’ utility in battle: One thing the rebels is afraid of [is] ni**ers; they may be fighting all day with they White soldiers but quick as the collard soldiers come up they fell back.

Black troops saw heavy action in the ill-fated Battle of the Crater, and the U.S. Twenty-ninth played a large part. In an elaborate operation, Union officers sent units comprised of miners to tunnel beneath the Confederate lines and place a cache of explosives. Once detonated, this bomb promised to open a huge hole in the rebel lines, allowing Union troops to pour through and occupy Petersburg. The Twenty-ninth, along with other black units, were to follow the first, white troops into the breach and secure a position behind Confederate lines.

But Union troops made their attack in a disorganized fashion, partly on account of its early morning hour and the general confusion that reigned in the darkness, but largely due to bungling officers. As a result, the Twenty-ninth and other black units did not see action until late in the attack, when the Confederates had already regrouped. One Confederate officer noted that "To the credit of the blacks be it said that they advanced in better order and pushed forward farther than the whites." Nevertheless, another reported that the Negroes were “mowed down like grass.” A large number of the rebel troops “seemed infuriated at the idea of having to fight negroes,” and killed black troops rather than take them, prisoner. By nine A.M. a Confederate counterattack had turned back the northern initiative. Many black troops mixed with whites in an unceremonious retreat. The Twenty-ninth U.S. Colored Infantry lost thirty-eight men killed in action or died of wounds and thirty-two prisoners, of which eighteen died in Confederate camps.

The failure at the Crater led to widespread attempts to fix the blame for the fiasco. While several Union generals were shown to have been cowering behind the lines in bombproof shelters instead of directing their troops, some white soldiers singled out black troops for criticism. One described how the blacks “broke and ran like a flock of sheep, and black at that…. This war must be fought out by white men.” He added, in another letter, “the entire failure of the undertaking is laid upon their [the blacks’] shoulders.” Another observer concluded that “the blacks seemed to have done as well as whites – which is faint praise.”

After the battle’s losses, the Twenty-ninth set about refreshing its ranks with new troops. After a prolonged recruitment effort and limited action in smaller engagements, it reached the front lines just in time to hear of Robert E. Lee’s surrender and the fall of the Confederacy.

In Illinois, Negroes organized to fight the state’s discriminatory black laws. One Chicago group is known as the "Repeal Association" circulated petitions calling for the end of the statutes. Some white organizations took steps to recognize black Illinoisans and their efforts for the Union. The Chicago Ladies Loyal League admitted black women by 1864, and black students entered several of the state’s private colleges. By 1865 Radical Republicans in the state legislature had succeeded in overturning the laws, clearing the way for freedmen to immigrate to Illinois once again. Many settled with the help of the Northwestern Freedmen’s Aid Committee, which had been organized in 1863. A significant number of Negroes remained in Cairo, but the vast majority of the new arrivals set out for Chicago’s urban environs or noted abolitionist centers such as Quincy, Galesburg, and Jacksonville.

Despite the Union victory in the Civil War, Illinois was slow to provide Negroes with new benefits. Despite the passage of a state civil rights act in 1866, discrimination remained widespread. Like freed slaves living in many southern states, Illinois blacks did not receive the right to vote until the passage of the fifteenth amendment in 1870.

By Drew E. VandeCreek
Edited by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Monday, February 18, 2019

Ernest “Ernie” Banks, the first Negro Chicago Cubs player. Known as "Mr. Cub" the Cubs honored Banks by retiring his number '14' in 1982.

Ernest "Ernie" Banks was the first Negro baseball player for the Chicago (Illinois) Cubs and the first Black manager in Major League Baseball (MLB). Banks earned the nicknames "Mr. Cub" and "Mr. Sunshine" while playing shortstop and first base from 1953 to 1971 for the team.

sidebar
When I write about historical topics, I follow this methodology regarding race terms:
  • "Negro" was the term used until the mid-1960s.
  • "Black" started being used in the mid-1960s.
  • "African-American" followed and began usage in the late 1980s.
Ernest Banks was born on January 31, 1931 in Dallas, Texas. Ernie's father bribed him to play baseball at a young age, but in high school he was a standout in basketball, football and track. When Banks was 17, he signed a contract with the Amarillo Colts, an all-Negro barnstorming (exhibition) team for $15 per game, and then in 1950 he signed with the Kansas City (Missouri) Monarchs in the Negro American League. He spent two years serving in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and then returned back to the Negro leagues in 1953. 

After a season with the Kansas City Monarchs, he signed a contract with the Chicago Cubs, becoming the first Black player for the Cubs. Banks debuted in the major leagues with the Cubs on September 17, 1953, wearing the number 14.
He hit .314 in 10 games in 1953. He took over as the Cubs' starting shortstop the following year, and had his first great season in 1955, knocking in 117 runs and hitting 44 homers, a record for shortstops; five of them came with the bases loaded, at the time a major-league record.

By 1957 he was one of the most feared power hitters in the league. The late umpire Tom Gorman once recalled that "in 1957, Banks was knocked down four times by four different pitchers: Don Drysdale, Bob Purkey, Bob Friend, and Jack Sanford. And Banks hit their next pitch out of the park each time he was knocked down."

In 1958, Ernie Banks played in every game, leading the league in RBIs (129), slugging percentage (.614) and home runs (47, setting a big-league record for shortstops). A year later, Banks led the league again with 143 RBIs. He hit 20 or more homers in thirteen seasons, hit .300 or better three times, and drove in 100 or more runs eight times. He led the league's shortstops in fielding three times and, after moving to first base in 1962, led all first basemen in putouts five times. Banks was named MVP two straight years (1958-59).
He led the league in RBIs in 1959 and homers again in 1960 (41). Only Eddie Mathews' 46th homer in a 1959 playoff game kept Banks, who had 45, from a share of three consecutive home run titles. He wound up his career with 512 home runs, ranking him 13th all-time. Prior to his retirement in 1971, he was voted the "Greatest Cub Player of All Time."

Cubs fans affectionately refer to Banks as "Mr. Cub" for his years of dedicated service to their team. Banks is the Cubs' all-time leader in games played (2,528), at-bats (9,421), home runs (512), total bases (4,706) and extra-base hits (1,009); ranks second in hits (2,583) and RBIs (1,636); third in years (19) and doubles (407); fifth in runs (1,305) and singles (1,574); and seventh in triples (90) and walks (763).
Through 19 seasons with the Cubs, Banks became one of the most decorated players in the team's history. He was voted an All-Star 14 times (1955-1962, 1965, 1967, 1969), National League MVP two times (1958, 1959), and earned 1 Gold Glove award (1960). His career statistics were a .274 batting average, 512 home runs, 2,583 hits, and 1,636 runs batted in. Banks was elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1977 on the first ballot. He loved baseball so much that he developed a catch phrase, always saying, "Let's play two!" referring to wanting to play another baseball game.
Banks retired as a player on December 1, 1971, but was signed on as a coach for the Cubs. On May 8, 1973, Banks technically became the first Black MLB manager when Cubs' manager Whitey Lockman was ejected from the game. Banks filled in as the manager and won the game 3-2 in 12 innings.
Six years after retiring from the major leagues as a lifelong Cub in 1971, Banks was elected into the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility. He was inducted at Cooperstown, N.Y., in 1977. Mr. Cub coached for the Cubs until 1973, served as a minor-league instructor from 1974-76, and worked in the club's front office.
His uniform No. 14 was the first retired by the Cubs organization in 1982 and currently flies on game days from the leftfield foul pole.
The Cubs also honored Banks by placing his statue in front of the entrance to Wrigley Field on March 31, 2008.
In 2013 President Barack Obama awarded Banks the Presidental Medal of Freedom in a White House Ceremony.
Ernie Banks died in Chicago on Janaury 23, 2015 eight days shy of his 84th brithday. He is survived by his wife and daughter.
Ernie Banks is buried at Graceland Cemetery in Chicago.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Decades before the Civil War, Turkey Hill in St. Clair County, Illinois was a settlement of free Negroes.

Sarah Cato’s grandfather, Ruges Freeman, used to talk about her black ancestors coming to the Illinois Territory in 1818, but the St. Louis woman didn’t get the full story until recently. She was stunned to learn that her great-great-grandfather, Richmond Freeman, was not a slave trying to escape, but a free black man making the long journey from Virginia to St. Clair County on the back of a wagon with a group of pioneers.

“I think he came chasing a girl,” Sarah said, noting that Richmond later married Mary Graham, whom he likely met in Maryland or Virginia before the trip.

Sarah also got more information about a small settlement of free blacks at Turkey Hill, between Belleville and Freeburg, where the Freemans lived. It was protected by white families, some headed by ministers opposed to slavery.
This 1874 map shows property lines in the Turkey Hill area, near Belleville, including land owned by Richmond Freeman and the Hawes family, as well as the African school.
Richmond and Mary were able to buy farmland, build a home, raise livestock, attend church, rear 14 children and establish an “African school.” Eventually, Richmond accumulated 320 acres.

“They lived a good life,” said Mera Hertel, 45, of Belleville, a local historian who also has done research on the settlement. “They wouldn’t have been able to do that anywhere else.”

Slavery wasn’t abolished in the United States until after the Civil War in 1865. Illinois joined the union as a “free” state in 1818, but laws allowed slavery and indentured servitude to continue under a wide range of circumstances.

Throughout the country, free blacks were susceptible to being kidnapped and sold into slavery or losing their freedom by violating “Black Codes” and other regulations.

“You had to have papers proving you were free,” Sarah said. “You had to carry them on your person at all times, subject to challenge and surrender of those papers for examination by any white person who demanded them. That could be a drunk or a child.

“You couldn’t sell liquor. You couldn’t own a dog. You couldn’t own a gun. You couldn’t participate in a militia. You couldn’t serve on a jury or testify against a white person.”

CHALLENGING RESEARCH
Sarah is a retired attorney. She returned to school and earned a master’s degree in American culture studies at Washington University in 2013. Her thesis examined the lives of free blacks in the 1800s, using the Freemans as a case study.

But researching black family trees is a challenging process. Slaves were considered property, not human beings, so records are scarce. It was illegal for blacks to learn to read or write in most places.

Records that do exist often refer to slaves only by their first names, first names paired with last names of their white masters, African names or nicknames.

“Some enslavers thought it was comical to give their slaves classical names, so you’d have a woman named Cassiopeia or a man named Julius Caesar,” Sarah said. “But that wasn’t what they were called at home. That wasn’t what their parents named them.”

Historians in Botetourt County, Va., helped Sarah find Richmond’s parents, Abram (or Abraham) and Judea (or Juda) in the early 1800s registries of free Negroes. Abram was identified as a laborer on the farm of Edward Mitchell.

Edward and his brother, Samuel, were among the pioneers who traveled to St. Clair County with Richmond in 1818. The caravan included an estimated 60 people in several families.

“They left because of slavery,” Sarah said. “Edward and Samuel were Methodist ministers. They didn’t believe in slavery.”

Sarah also found handwritten indenture papers, showing that Richmond indentured himself to Edward for six months after arriving in Illinois, signing with an “X.” It may have been a way for him to borrow money in exchange for labor.

Sarah met Mera at a black genealogical conference in St. Louis while working on her thesis.

Mera already had done research on the Freemans. She had Mary’s 1874 obituary from the Belleville Weekly Advocate, reporting her death at 73 after a series of strokes.

“The thing that stands out in my mind is that Mary Graham Freeman walked all the way from Maryland barefoot, and that was the year without a summer,” Mera said. “A lot of people didn’t make it, but she did.”

Mera was referring to 1816 when North America experienced dramatic temperature swings and frost all summer in places. It was part of worldwide climate abnormalities, blamed on a volcano eruption in Southeast Asia the year before.

Mary came to St. Clair County with a friend of the Mitchells named Lloyd Belt. She was indentured to him, probably in exchange for room and board, until she wed Richmond on December 23, 1819. Edward performed the ceremony, according to their handwritten marriage certificate.

“It was unusual for ministers to marry slaves or ex-slaves back then,” Mera said. “Typically, they just jumped over a broomstick and said, ‘We’re man and wife.’”

HIDDEN CEMETERY
Mera is an employee of the Illinois State Archaeological Survey. She learned about the free black settlement at Turkey Hill about 10 years ago from the late Harold Miller, a farmer who knew the location of its old cemetery and African school.

Mera and local genealogist Judy Jennings walked the property, next to Julius J. Knobeloch Woods Nature Preserve, near Dunlap and Rentschler roads.
Historian Mera Hertel’s map shows the Freeman property in the 1800s, including the site of a cemetery and school for black children in the Turkey Hill area, near Belleville.
There were no tombstones, only boulders, daffodils, and yucca plants, which were typical grave markers in early black cemeteries.

“Slaves would often bring yucca seeds with them on their journey from the South and even the Indies,” Mera wrote in her report. “For the enslaved, it was something that could have been easily smuggled and ‘owned,’ in an affront to their bondage, as they were not allowed to own property of any kind.”

The curator for the St. Clair County Historical Society, also knew about the settlement. It came up when he was studying Napoleon Hawes, who moved to Turkey Hill as a child with his white father and mixed-race mother in the 1850s.

Mary tutored Napoleon at the African school. As an adult, he became an industrial worker and union activist. “Being a mixed-race individual in the decades after the Civil War, Napoleon Hawes likely faced discrimination in almost every facet of his life,” Will wrote in a newsletter article.

Sarah is finished with her thesis, but she plans to keep researching the Freemans. Her most pressing question now is whether great-great-great-grandfather Abram was ever a slave and, if so, how he earned his freedom.

Sarah suspects Edward and Samuel Mitchell’s father freed him, possibly for accompanying them into battle during the Revolutionary War and acting heroically, which would have been an acceptable reason for manumission in those days.
Descendants of Richmond and Mary Freeman include their son, Charles, one of 14 children, and his wife, Ruth, who are all buried in Greenwood Cemetery in North St. Louis.
“Trust and believe, if I find out it was because he served in the Revolutionary War, my next step will be the Daughters of the American Revolution,” she said.

By Terri Maddox
Edited by Neil Gale, Ph.D.