In the face, then, of the Negro’s unquestionable physical ability and prowess the supreme criticism that he was called on to face within the period was all the more hard to bear.  In all nations and in all ages courage under fire as a soldier has been regarded as the sterling test of manhood, and by this standard we have seen that in war the Negro had more than vindicated himself.  His very honor as a soldier was now to be attacked.

In August, 1906, Companies B, C, and D of the Twenty-fifth Regiment, United States Infantry, were stationed at Fort Brown, Brownsville, Texas, where they were forced to exercise very great self-restraint in the face of daily insults from the citizens.  On the night of the 13th occurred a riot in which one citizen of the town was killed, another wounded, and the chief of police injured.  The people of the town accused the soldiers of causing the riot and demanded their removal.  Brigadier-General E.A.  Garlington, Inspector General, was sent to find the guilty men, and, failing in his mission, 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!