Reminiscences of my life in camp with the 33d United States colored troops, late 1st S. C. Volunteers — Background and Themes

A Nurse's View of Camp and Combat

Taylor served as a laundress, nurse, and teacher for the 1st South Carolina Colored Volunteers, later the 33rd USCT. Her account of camp life emphasizes domestic routines and medical care rather than tactical maneuvers. She describes caring for the sick and wounded, managing supplies, and the constant threat of disease. When the regiment camped at the race track in Charleston or marched through country plagued by bushwhackers, Taylor notes the human cost: men killed while sleeping, throats cut by concealed enemies. Her perspective is that of a woman who "camped and fared as the boys did," yet she also records moments of respite—a barbecue at Camp Saxton, a visit from a Northern dignitary. The excerpts show a narrator who moves between the intimate and the operational, noting both the "jolly and pleasing" character of Colonel Trowbridge and the strategic movements of the regiment.

The Bonds Between Soldiers and Commander

A recurring thread in Taylor's memoir is the deep loyalty the men felt toward Colonel C. T. Trowbridge. She writes that he was "the very first officer to take charge of black soldiers" and that the regiment "knew him personally." Taylor recalls that when the company was formed, the men from St. Simon's Island wished for him to be their captain because they were "attached to him." She includes a comrade's wish to see Trowbridge again decades later, and her own declaration: "I shall never forget his friendship and kindness toward me." This personal devotion stands in contrast to the dangers of war—the bushwhackers, the executions, the mustering out. Taylor's narrative suggests that for these soldiers, the quality of their commander was as memorable as any battle.

A Record of Movement and Danger

The excerpts trace the regiment's movements across the South: from St. Simon's Island to Camp Saxton, then to Morris Island, Savannah, Augusta, Hamburg, and finally Charleston. Taylor notes specific dates and locations, but she also highlights the constant threat from Confederate irregulars. She describes bushwhackers who "hid in the bushes and would shoot the Union boys every chance they got" and who concealed themselves in railroad cars to cut soldiers' throats while they slept. One such attacker was caught, court-martialed, and shot at Wall Hollow. These passages give the memoir a sense of pervasive danger that coexists with the routine of camp life. Taylor's account is not a strategic overview but a ground-level record of how war felt to those who marched, camped, and nursed through it.

Taylor's memoir is best read as a personal testimony rather than a comprehensive history. She writes from memory, often decades after the events, and her focus is on the people she served with and the conditions they endured. Readers should note that she does not claim to cover every battle or campaign; instead, she offers a selective, intimate record of what it meant to be a Black woman in the Union Army. Her account is valuable precisely for its gaps and emphases—the warmth of a commander, the shock of a nighttime murder, the daily work of nursing. Approach it as a conversation with a survivor, not a textbook.

Reading Susie King Taylor’s quiet recollections of camp life, I was struck by how loyalty shapes a narrative — how people hold together when everything else falters. That same patient devotion surfaced again in The revolt in Arabia — A Reader’s Guide, where distant voices also speak of endurance against vast, indifferent forces. Both books feel like letters left on a table, waiting for someone to sit with them a while.