It must not be inferred from the foregoing, however, that nothing whatever was done in recognition of the gallantry of the colored regulars.  Something was done.  Cases of individual heroism were so marked, and so numerous, that they could not be ignored.  The men who had so distinguished themselves could not be disposed of by special mention and compliments in orders.  Something more substantial was required.  Fortunately for such purpose four regiments of colored United States Volunteer Infantry were then in course of organization, in which the policy had been established that colored men should be accepted as officers below the grade of captain.  Into these regiments the colored men who had won distinction at Santiago were placed, many as Second Lieutenants, although some were given First Lieutenancies.  This action of the Government was hailed with great delight on the part of the colored Americans generally, and the honors were accepted very gratefully by the soldiers who had won them on the field.  Fortunately as this opening seemed, it turned out very disappointing.  It soon became evident that these regiments would be mustered out of the service, as they had proven themselves no more immune, so far as it could be determined from the facts, than other troops.  The Lieutenants who had been most fortunate in getting their commissions early got about six or seven months’ service, and then the dream of their glory departed and they fell back to the ranks to stand “attention” to any white man who could muster political influence sufficient to secure a commission.  Their day was short, and when they were discharged from the volunteer service, there appeared no future for them as commissioned officers.  Their occupation was indeed gone.  It was for them a most disappointing and exasperating promotion, resulting in some cases in loss of standing and in financial injury.  Their honors were too short-lived, and too circumscribed, to be much more than a lively tantalization, to be remembered with disgust by those who had worn them.  Cruel, indeed, was the prejudice that could dictate such a policy to the brave black men of San Juan.  The black heroes, however, were not without sympathy in their misfortune.  The good people of the country had still a warm place in their hearts for the colored soldier, despite the sayings of his maligners.

The people of Washington, D.C., had an opportunity to testify their appreciation of the Tenth Cavalry as that regiment passed through their city on its way to its station in Alabama, and later a portion of it was called to Philadelphia to take part in the Peace Jubilee, and no troops received more generous attention.  To express in some lasting form their regard for the regiment and its officers, some patriotic citizens of Philadelphia presented a handsome saber to Captain Charles G. Ayres, who had charge of the detachment which took part in the Peace Jubilee, “as a token of their appreciation of the splendid conduct of the regiment in the campaign of Santiago, and of its superb soldierly appearance and good conduct during its attendance at the Jubilee Parade in Philadelphia.”