To most Kentuckians' surprise, only Louisiana enlisted more
African-American soldiers in the Civil War than Kentucky. Why did so
many blacks in Kentucky volunteer for the Union army?
To most Kentuckians' surprise, only Louisiana enlisted more
African-American soldiers in the Civil War than Kentucky. Why did so
many blacks in Kentucky volunteer for the Union army?
The reasons for signing up were, of course, many. Some blacks enlisted to serve as substitutes for their white masters. That way, the master got credit for fulfilling his military obligation. Later, African American soldiers were promised their freedom if they enlisted. And still later, the men, their wives, and their children were given their freedom if the man of the house joined up. Yet, for the most part, these soldiers have until recently been largely forgotten.
In an article in the Lexington Herald-Leader, John Trowbridge, manager of the Kentucky Military History Museum in Frankfort, says that not many people know about the role of blacks in the Civil War. "When I go out to schools to speak and tell about black soldiers who served in the Civil War, not only adults but kids could not believe that." He adds that "there are so many people who don't realize that African-Americans fought in the Civil War." While many "colored soldiers," as they were called in their day, did see extensive combat, many were stuck guarding garrisons and other lonesome outposts. Others worked hard rebuilding railroad bridges and performing thousands of other menial tasks that commanders wouldn't ask the white soldiers to do.
So in some ways, according to Maryland historian Donald R. Shaffer, the Civil War was "an ambiguous victory." Slaves had won their freedom, but they certainly did not win full citizenship in many parts of the South and in the North. It would be, of course, more than a century after the close of the War Between the States before blacks fully realized the rights accorded to white people. Some would even argue that vestiges of deep and abiding prejudice still exist in the fabric of our nation.
Every major change in society needs leaders if real change is to be achieved. Consequently, some have to step forward and use their God-given talents to lead their people toward progress, or the movement dies or lingers beyond the time and patience of those seeking a new and different world. Among black soldiers in Kentucky, one of the most interesting people was Elijah P. Marrs, an ex-slave from Shelby County, who, although he didn't leave the state, saw combat, was captured, and went on to help found what later became Simmons Bible College in Louisville.
Even as a youngster, Marrs evidenced an ambition to make more of himself than just a field hand. Somehow, he convinced his white playmates to teach him how to read. "I sought the aid of the white boys, who did all they could in teaching me," he says in his autobiography. "Very early in life I took up the idea that I wanted to learn to read and write. I was convinced that there would be something for me to do in the future that I could not accomplish by remaining in ignorance. I availed myself of every opportunity; daily I carried my book in my pocket, and every chance that offered would be learning my A,B,C's. Soon I learned to read." Quite a feat considering that many slaveholders thought that teaching a slave to read would only bring trouble, much trouble.
Marrs wasn't finished. He hungered to add writing as another of his many skills. He attended what he called "night school" which began at 10:00 P.M. and stretched on into the early morning. Taught by Ham Graves, an African American on the same farm as Marrs, the school soon opened the way for Marrs to become both a reader and a writer. He went to the post office to fetch the mail and read the letters written to the slaves who couldn't read them. Soon, he was writing letters too. "On every gate-post around the stable, as on the plow-handles, you could see where I had been trying to write, " Marrs observes. Later, at Camp Nelson in Jessamine County, where Marrs did his training, historian Marion Lucas reports that Marrs was called "that little man from Shelby County who could write." Little wonder that Marrs was kept busy writing letters home for the many illiterate ex-slaves.
Yet such training, in what we see today as the bare rudiments of an education, provided the firm foundation upon which he built a long and productive life. When he decided to enlist in the Army on September 26, 1864, he entered the service as one of the few black soldiers who could read and write, imbuing him with a kind of confidence that soon earned Marrs the rank of Sergeant in Company L of the Twelfth United States Colored Heavy Artillery. He was under the command, of course, of a white officer, Captain Crigen B. Darling, with Captain Cyrus Palmer leading the troop.
While he saw limited combat in several other places in the state, the most serious fighting he was involved in was a skirmish in Big Spring, Kentucky, at the Meade, Breckinridge and Hardin County junction. After arriving at Elizabethtown in early January of 1865, his band of soldiers began a march toward Hardinsburg in Breckinridge County, about a forty-mile journey. On Thursday, January 5, 1865, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, they arrived at Big Spring. The force must have been impressive, for Marrs notes "as we entered one end of the town the rebels retreated out the other."
When they finally settled in at a Baptist church, Marrs and his men realized that out of the entire company, there were only nine guns fit for combat. They could only hope that the fleeing rebels would not come back. Two men from the company decided to explore the town and soon discovered that the place was indeed alive with rebel soldiers and the two were soon captured. Frightened beyond words, the prisoners seemed to fall into benign hands when they were told to run for their lives. One made it back to the shelter of the church, but unfortunately, the other was killed as he tried desperately to jump a fence, being shot by a Confederate marksman. Soon, the peace was shattered as a hail of bullets struck the Baptist church, where most of Company L was huddled inside.
After some initial confusion, the Federals were ordered to split into two groups of twenty each and proceed in opposite directions. They were to meet at the top of the hill so they could get a better bead on just where the rebel bullets were coming from. By the time that the two groups met, the enemy appeared to be in full retreat; however, the Union men soon realized that the "retreat" was a rebel ruse to confuse the green troops. The Yankee soldiers were hopelessly surrounded with only the walls of the church standing between them and Confederate bullets.
Marrs notes, "We were thirty miles from any of our own troops, and we knew there remained for us only one of three things to do-fight, run, or surrender." The group of Union soldiers decided that they would fight it out, and so for the rest of that Friday night and most of Saturday, the Union pickets guarded their position. There was no sign of the Confederates, except for one rebel who had sneaked his way into a small dwelling in the area. Realizing he had been discovered, the rebel made a break for it and fled on foot. Marrs quickly fired at him and thought that the Confederate had been successful in making his escape; however, one of the men in Marrs' company thought the rebel "jumped back twenty feet" when Marrs fired at him Again, later that same night, Marrs and fellow soldier, Elijah Dagner, heard noises off in the distance and crept along a fence and fired on the surprised rebels who fled quickly.
The next day, Sunday, January 8th, broke into what Marrs called "a lovely morning! The sun seemed to have put on all of his beauty, and the effect was noticeable upon us all." The men, indeed, were in high spirits. Soon, seeing no rebels outside, the men assumed that the Confederate siege was over, boasting that the rebs had "got enough of old Company L!" Yet while Marrs was enrolling new recruits, he saw approaching a line of Confederate soldiers he described as "two miles long."
The Union men soon organized themselves, and for two long hours the enemies stared at each other - Nobody firing, nobody advancing. Finally, the rebel commander (possibly General John Stuart Williams from Mount Sterling) and a member of his staff approached, bearing a white flag. The officer summarily presented Marrs and another Yankee soldier a slip of paper that demanded an unconditional surrender. Marrs and his men weren't ready to quit and shook their heads "no." Within an hour, the tiny group of Union soldiers were helplessly surrounded by the rebels who were slowly inching forward. Again, the Confederates demanded a surrender, and again Marr's company refused the offer. The rebels responded by tightening the circle around the church even more. A third time the Confederates demanded surrender, promising bloody consequences if the Union men didn't surrender; but as Marrs puts it: "We trembled, but refused to accede to their demand."
Finally, the Confederates found a haystack, put it on a wagon, and threatened to set it on fire and send the ball of flames toward the church if the defenders didn't give up. After briefly conferring, the Union men sent a note to the rebels that they would surrender if the Confederates would immediately parole them and grant them safe passage back to their regiment in Elizabethtown. The Union soldiers also agreed to turn in their "munitions of war." The rebels soon accepted the terms, but two of the men in Marr's company could not see themselves surrendering. Marrs caught one by the collar as the scared soldier tried to escape, while another Union man ripped off his stripes in protest, rather than surrender.
Shortly, about twenty rebel officers approached Company L. Marrs describes it this way: "The rebel officers met us, shook hands with us, and talked as if nothing unpleasant had happened." Yet there was some unfinished business. One of the rebels demanded to know who had shot a fellow soldier the Thursday night before. "Some of the rebels were going through the crowd inquiring for the man who did the shooting. I was the first man to deny all knowledge of it. All my bravery had fled," for Marrs quickly realized that he was the one that had done the shooting.
Company L finally made it back to Elizabethtown, along with the troop of rebel officers. The Confederates were quickly given six hours to get out of town. Marrs quotes a Dutch major as saying to the rebels, "Me gives you zix hours to get out in. If any other force come, me don't gives you information."
There were, of course, other duties in other places in Kentucky like Muldraugh Hill, Bowling Green, Columbus, and later Paducah, until finally Marrs was mustered out of service on April 24, 1866 in Louisville.
After the war, Marrs went into business with his brother, Henry. He married, taught school, and preached his first sermon on June 7, 1873. Active in the Republican Party, Marrs later went to Chicago for the 1884 Republican National Convention that nominated James Blaine as its presidential candidate.
Marrs died August 30, 1910, after a full and rich life. His is a story of unrelenting ambition, clear vision, and ceaseless dedication, and he serves as a model for the self-made man: brave honest, and true to his worthy causes. His story is also little noted and hardly remembered, even though it's a chapter in Kentucky military history that truly needs to be written.