Louden Langley: A soldier without limitations
It was 1863.
The Civil War dragged on in the South, the Emancipation Proclamation had just been issued and Massachusetts' abolitionist governor issued one of the war's first calls for black soldiers.
Despite an announcement by the Confederate Congress that every captured black soldier would be sold into slavery, hundreds of men enlisted in the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Regiment and headed South.
One of them was Louden Langley.
Langley and his two brothers had been born free but were willing to risk their lives and that freedom so slaves in the South might have it.
"What impresses me the most is he was living in this community of free people during slavery, but then he decided that it's more important to enlist and go fight," said Langley Proctor, one of Louden Langley's descendants who lives in Boston. "To fight for what's right, and to have that conviction and be that strong, I am so amazed and proud."
The famed 54th Infantry regiment -- later immortalized in the Academy Award-winning film "Glory" -- would have more than 1,000 men serve in its ranks by the war's end.
The educated son of Vermont farmers and a prolific writer of letters and newspaper editorials, Langley laid down his pen to take up arms.
"I am no advocate of war, I mean an unjust war; and as bad as I hate war, I hate tyrants and tyranny worse," Langley wrote in a letter dated January 1854 to the Green Mountain Freeman, an abolitionist paper in Montpelier, Vt. "Yes, I go further, and I say, that every nation has a God-given right to rebel against any laws, unjust laws, that the tyrants may deem fit to make and enforce."
Langley had long been active in the abolitionist movement before enlisting in December of 1863.
He harbored runaways in his Hinesburg, Vt., home and enlisted other volunteers to the Underground Railroad. He also contributed his safehouse to the rescue operations that followed passage of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850, which required escaped slaves to be returned to their masters.
His fight for equal rights continued while serving in the 54th.
Outraged that pay for the black soldiers was less than that of the whites, Langley wrote to The Weekly Anglo-African in January of 1864, criticizing the federal government for the unequal pay and withholding promised enlistment bonuses.
White recruits were paid $13 a month plus a clothing allowance of $3.50.
Black soldiers, on the other hand, were paid $10 per month and had $3 deducted for clothing.
"The boys feel somewhat down-hearted, but hope for the best, and have some faith in the justice of Congress," Langely wrote in his letter.
Pay for the black soldiers was equalized in the summer of 1864, and some historians believe Langley's efforts helped make that a reality.
That same year, Langley transferred from the 54th Massachusetts to the 33rd United States Colored Infantry so he could be promoted to seargent-major -- the highest attainable rank for a black soldier at the time, according to the Vermont Historical Society.
Langley's new infantry was a regiment raised from the 1st South Carolina Volunteers, the Union's first black regiment composed of escaped slaves.
He was mustered out of service in 1866 and remained in Beaufort after the war with his wife, Jane, and four children.
He owned many properties in the area and served as the county's tax auditor for a time, according to historian Elise Guyette, who has extensively researched Langley's life.
His efforts to serve and better those less fortunate never ceased.
He worked for the Freedmen's Bureau, tasked with educating thousands of freedmen in the aftermath of the war.
He was appointed to the Beaufort County School Board and was instrumental in furthering the education of black students.
He was one of the over 1,000 black men who served in public offices in the South during Reconstruction.
A friend and neighbor of Civil War hero Robert Smalls, Langley was elected with him to the 1868 South Carolina Constitutional Convention, which wrote a new and -- for the time -- forward looking constitution that guaranteed racial equality.
As he grew older, however, he fell on hard times.
A back injury from the war led to other health complications. He worked for some time at the lighthouse on Hunting Island before dying in his early 40s.
Proctor has long been fascinated by all that Langley accomplished.
Proctor did not discover his ancestry until several years ago. After looking at the Declaration of Independence during a business trip to Washington, D.C., he happened to look through the registry for the 54th Infantry in a nearby exhibit.
As he was going down the list, he saw the names Louden Langley and Joseph Proctor and wondered if they could be the ancestors to which family lore referred.
Research revealed Proctor's family tree had strong roots.
"I've always really liked my name, because when I hear it I know someone is talking about me as it's not common. But now, it has even more significance," Proctor said.
"He shows that you can really do anything, and my family has always been that way, not seeing any limitations," Proctor said. "...(I)t's a family trait passed down."
Follow reporter Sarah Bowman on Twitter at twitter.com/IPBG_Sarah and on Facebook at facebook.com/IPBGSarah. Reporter Erin Moody contributed to this report.
This story was originally published May 20, 2014 at 3:20 PM with the headline "Louden Langley: A soldier without limitations."