Come walking on the sea!
And let the mainlands hear the word
That sets the islands free!"
Then they sang John Brown's Hallelujah Song, and several of their own
hymns.
Christmas night, the children came in and had several grand shouts. They
were too happy to keep still. One of them, a cunning, kittenish little
creature, named Amaretta, only six years old, has a remarkably sweet
voice. "O Miss," said she, "all I want to do is to sing and shout!" And
sing and shout she did, to her heart's content. She reads nicely, and is
very fond of books. Many of the children already know their letters. The
parents are eager to have them learn. They sometimes say to me: "Do,
Miss, let de children learn eberyting dey can. We neber hab no chance to
learn nuttin'; but we wants de chillen to learn." They are willing to
make many sacrifices that their children may attend school. One old
woman, who had a large family of children and grandchildren, came
regularly to school in the winter, and took her seat among the little
ones. Another woman, who had one of the best faces I ever saw, came
daily, and brought her baby in her arms. It happened to be one of the
best babies in the world, and allowed its mother to pursue her studies
without interruption.
New-Year's Day, Emancipation Day, was a glorious one to us. General
Saxton and Colonel Higginson had invited us to visit the camp of the
First Regiment of South Carolina Volunteers on that day, "the greatest
day in the nation's history." We enjoyed perfectly the exciting scene on
board the steamboat Flora. There was an eager, wondering crowd of the
freed people, in their holiday attire, with the gayest of headkerchiefs,
the whitest of aprons, and the happiest of faces. The band was playing,
the flags were streaming, and everybody was talking merrily and feeling
happy. The sun shone brightly, and the very waves seemed to partake of
the universal gayety, for they danced and sparkled more joyously than
ever before. Long before we reached Camp Saxton, we could see the
beautiful grove and the ruins of the old fort near it. Some companies of
the First Regiment were drawn up in line under the trees near the
landing, ready to receive us. They were a fine, soldierly looking set of
men, and their brilliant dress made a splendid appearance among the
trees. It was my good fortune to find an old friend among the officers.
He took us over the camp and showed us all the arrangements. Everything
looked clean and comfortable; much neater, we were told, than in most of
the white camps. An officer told us that he had never seen a regiment in
which the men were so honest. "In many other camps," said he, "the
Colonel and the rest of us would find it necessary to place a guard
before our tents. We never do it here. Our tents are left entirely
unguarded, but nothing has ever been touched." We were glad to know
that. It is a remarkable fact, when we consider that the men of this
regiment have all their lives been slaves; for we all know that Slavery
does not tend to make men honest.
The ceremony in honor of Emancipation took place in the beautiful grove
of live-oaks adjoining the camp. I wish it were possible to describe
fitly the scene which met our eyes, as we sat upon the stand, and looked
down on the crowd before us. There were the black soldiers in their blue
coats and scarlet pantaloons; the officers of the First Regiment, and of
other regiments, in their handsome uniforms; and there were crowds of
lookers-on, men, women, and children, of every complexion, grouped in
various attitudes, under the moss-hung trees. The faces of all wore a
happy, interested look. The exercises commenced with a prayer by the
chaplain of the regiment. An ode, written for the occasion, was then
read and sung. President Lincoln's Proclamation of Emancipation was then
read, and enthusiastically cheered. The Rev. Mr. French presented
Colonel Higginson with two very elegant flags, a gift to the First
Regiment, from the Church of the Puritans, in New York. He accompanied
them by an appropriate and enthusiastic speech. As Colonel Higginson
took the flags, before he had time to reply to the speech, some of the
colored people, of their own accord, began to sing,--
"My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee we sing!"
It was a touching and beautiful incident, and sent a thrill through all
our hearts. The Colonel was deeply moved by it. He said that reply was
far more effective than any speech he could make. But he did make one of
those stirring speeches which are "half battles." All hearts swelled
with emotion as we listened to his glorious words, "stirring the soul
like the sound of a trumpet." His soldiers are warmly attached to him,
and he evidently feels toward them all as if they were his children.
General Saxton spoke also, and was received with great enthusiasm.
Throughout the morning, repeated cheers were given for him by the
regiment, and joined in heartily by all the people. They know him to be
one of the best and noblest men in the world. His unfailing kindness and
consideration for them, so different from the treatment they have
sometimes received at the hands of United States officers, have caused
them to have unbounded confidence in him.
At the close of Colonel Higginson's speech, he presented the flags to
the color-bearers, Sergeant Rivers and Sergeant Sutton, with an earnest
charge, to which they made appropriate replies.
Mrs. Gage uttered some earnest words, and then the regiment sang John
Brown's Hallelujah Song.
After the meeting was over, we saw the dress-parade, which was a
brilliant and beautiful sight. An officer told us that the men went
through the drill remarkably well, and learned the movements with
wonderful ease and rapidity. To us it seemed strange as a miracle to see
this regiment of blacks, the first mustered into the service of the
United States, thus doing itself honor in the sight of officers of other
regiments, many of whom doubtless came to scoff. The men afterward had a
great feast; ten oxen having been roasted whole, for their especial
benefit.
In the evening there was the softest, loveliest moonlight. We were very
unwilling to go home; for, besides the attractive society, we knew that
the soldiers were to have grand shouts and a general jubilee that night.
But the steamboat was coming, and we were obliged to bid a reluctant
farewell to Camp Saxton and the hospitable dwellers therein. We walked
the deck of the steamer singing patriotic songs, and we agreed that
moonlight and water had never looked so beautiful as they did that
night. At Beaufort we took the row-boat for St. Helena. The boatmen as
they rowed sang some of their sweetest, wildest hymns. It was a fitting
close to such a day. Our hearts were filled with an exceeding great
gladness; for although the government had left much undone, we knew that
Freedom was surely born in our land that day. It seemed too glorious a
good to realize, this beginning of the great work we had so longed for
and prayed for. It was a sight never to be forgotten, that crowd of
happy black faces from which the shadow of Slavery had forever passed.
"Forever free! forever free!"--those magical words in the President's
Proclamation were constantly singing themselves in my soul.
SONG OF THE NEGRO BOATMEN AT PORT ROYAL, S. C.
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.
O praise and tanks! De Lord he come
To set de people free;
An' massa tink it day ob doom,
An' we ob jubilee.
De Lord dat heap de Red Sea waves,
He jus' as 'trong as den;
He say de word: we las' night slaves;
To-day, de Lord's free men.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
We'll hab de rice an' corn:
O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
De driver blow his horn!
Ole massa on he trabbels gone;
He leaf de land behind:
De Lord's breff blow him furder on,
Like corn-shuck in de wind.
We own de hoe, we own de plough,
We own de hands dat hold;
We sell de pig, we sell de cow,
But nebber chile be sold.
We pray de Lord: he gib us signs
Dat some day we be free;
De Norf-wind tell it to de pines,
De wild-duck to de sea;
We tink it when de church-bell ring,
We dream it in de dream;
De rice-bird mean it when he sing,
De eagle when he scream.
We know de promise nebber fail,
An' nebber lie de Word;
So, like de 'postles in de jail,
We waited for de Lord:
An' now he open ebery door,
An' trow away de key;
He tink we lub him so before,
We lub him better free.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
He'll gib de rice an' corn:
O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
De driver blow his horn!
EXTRACT FROM SPEECH BY HON. HENRY WILSON TO THE COLORED PEOPLE IN
CHARLESTON, S. C., APRIL, 1865.
"For twenty-nine years, in private life and in public life, at all times
and on all occasions, I have spoken and voted against Slavery, and in
favor of the freedom of every man that breathes God's air or walks His
earth. And to-day, standing here in South Carolina, I feel that the
slave-power we have fought so long is under my heel; and that the men
and women held in bondage so long are free forevermore.
"Understanding this to be your position,--that you are forever
free,--remember, O remember, the sacrifices that have been made for your
freedom, and be worthy of the blessing that has come to you! I know you
will be. [Cheers.] Through these four years of bloody war, you have
always been loyal to the old flag of the country. You have never
betrayed the Union soldiers who were fighting the battles of the
country. You have guided them, you have protected them, you have cheered
them. You have proved yourselves worthy the great situation in which you
were placed by the Slaveholders' Rebellion. Four years ago you saw the
flag of your country struck down from Fort Sumter; yesterday you saw the
old flag go up again. Its stars now beam with a brighter lustre. You
know now what the old flag means,--that it means liberty to every man
and woman in the country. [Cheers.]
"You have been patient, you have endured, you have trusted in God and
your country; and the God of our fathers has blessed our country, and
He has blessed you. The long, dreary, chilly night of Slavery has passed
away forevermore, and the sun of Liberty casts its broad beams upon you
to-day.
"But your duties commence with your liberties. Remember that you are to
be obedient, faithful, true, and loyal to the country forevermore.
[Cheers, and cries of 'Yes!' 'Yes!' 'Yes!'] Remember that you are to
educate your children; that you are to improve their condition; that you
are to make a brighter future for _them_ than the past has been to
_you_. Remember that you are to be industrious. Freedom does not mean
that you are not to work. It means that when you do work you shall have
pay for it, to carry home to your wives and the children of your love.
Liberty means the liberty to work for yourselves, to have the fruits of
your labor, to better your own condition, and improve the condition of
your children. I want every man and woman to understand that every
neglect of duty, every failure to be industrious, to be economical, to
support yourselves, to take care of your families, to secure the
education of your children, will be put in the faces of your friends as
a reproach. Your old masters will point you out and say to us, 'We told
you so.' For more than thirty years we have said that you were fit for
liberty. We have maintained it amid obloquy and reproach. For
maintaining this doctrine in the halls of Congress our names have been
made a by-word. The great lesson for you in the future is to prove that
we were right; to prove that you were worthy of liberty. We simply ask
you, in the name of your friends, in the name of our country, to show by
your good conduct, and by efforts to improve your condition, that you
were worthy of freedom; to prove to all the world, even to your old
masters and mistresses, that it was a sin against God to hold you in
Slavery, and that you are worthy to have your names enrolled among the
freemen of the United States of America. [Great cheering.]
"We want you to respect yourselves; to walk erect, with the
consciousness that you are free men. Be humane and kind to each other,
always serving each other when you can. Be courteous and gentlemanly to
everybody on earth, black and white, but cringe to nobody.
"You have helped us to fight our battles; you have stood by the old
flag; you have given us your prayers; and you have had the desire of
your hearts fulfilled. The cause of freedom has triumphed; and in our
triumph we want all to stand up and rejoice together."
EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH BY HON. JUDGE KELLY TO THE COLORED PEOPLE IN
CHARLESTON, S. C., APRIL, 1865.
"I will not, my colored friends, talk to you of the past. You understand
that all too well. I turn to the hopeful future; not to flatter you for
the deeds you have done during the last four years, but to remind you
that, though you no longer have earthly masters, there is a Ruler in
heaven whom you are bound to obey,--that Great Being who strengthened
and guided your eminent friend William Lloyd Garrison, who trained
Abraham Lincoln for his great work, in honest poverty and
simple-mindedness; that good God whose stars shine the same over the
slaves' huts and the masters' palaces. His laws you must obey. You must
worship Him not only at the altar, but in every act of your daily life.
It will not be enough to observe the Sabbath, to go to Him with your
sorrows, and remember Him in your joys. You must remember that He has
said to man, 'In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat thy bread.' Labor
is the law of all. Your friends in the North appeal to you to help them
in the great work they undertook to do for you. We want you to work
_with_ us. We want you to do it by working here in South Carolina,
earning wages, taking care of your money, and making profit out of that
money. Work on the plantation, if that is all you can do. If you can
work in the workshop, do it, and work well. He who does a day's work not
so well as he might have done it, cheats himself. Strive that your work
on Monday shall be better done than it was on Saturday; and when
Saturday comes round again, you will be able to do a still more skilful
day's work. We at the North sometimes learn three or four trades. If any
one of you feels sure that he can do better for himself and his family
by changing his pursuit, he had better change it."
"I like to look at the women assembled here. Remember, my friends, that
you are to be mothers and wives in the homes of free men. You must try
to make those homes respectable and happy. You are to be the mothers of
American citizens. You must give them the best education you can. You
must strive to make them intelligent, educated, moral, patriotic, and
religious men. Many of you cannot read, but you are not too old yet to
learn. A mother who knows how to read can half educate her own child by
helping him with his lessons; and the mother who has but little learning
will get a great deal more by trying to hear the child's lessons; and so
it is with the father.
"You need no longer live in slave huts, now that you are to have your
own earnings. I charge you, men, to make your homes comfortable, and
you, women, to make them happy. Work industriously. Be faithful to each
other; be true and honest with all men. If you respect yourselves,
others will respect you. There are Northerners who are prejudiced
against you; but you can find the way to their hearts and consciences
through their pockets. When they find that there are colored tradesmen
who have money to spend, and colored farmers who want to buy goods of
them, they will no longer call you Jack and Joe; they will begin to
think that you are Mr. John Black and Mr. Joseph Brown." [Great
laughter.]
BLACK TOM.
BY A YANKEE SOLDIER.
Hunted by his Rebel master
Over many a hill and glade,
Black Tom, with his wife and children,
Found his way to our brigade.
Tom had sense and truth and courage,
Often tried where danger rose:
Once our flag his strong arm rescued
From the grasp of Rebel foes.
One day, Tom was marching with us
Through the forest as our guide,
When a ball from traitor's rifle
Broke his arm and pierced his side.
On a litter white men bore him
Through the forest drear and damp,
Laid him, dying, where our banners
Brightly fluttered o'er our camp.
Pointing to his wife and children,
While he suffered racking pain,
Said he to our soldiers round him,
"Don't let _them_ be slaves again!"
"No, by Heaven!" spoke out a soldier,--
And _that_ oath was not profane,--
"Our brigade will still protect them;
They shall ne'er be slaves again."
Over old Tom's dusky features
Came and stayed a joyous ray;
And with saddened friends around him,
His free spirit passed away.
* * * * *
At Rodman's Point, in North Carolina, the United States troops were
obliged to retreat before Rebels, who outnumbered them ten to one. The
scow in which they attempted to escape stuck in the mud, and could not
be moved with poles. While the soldiers were lying down they were in
some measure protected from Rebel bullets; but whoever jumped into the
water to push the boat off would certainly be killed. A vigorous black
man who was with them said: "Lie still. I will push off the boat. If
they kill me, it is nothing; but you are soldiers, and are needed to
fight for the country." He leaped overboard, pushed off the boat, and
sprang back, pierced by seven bullets. He died two days after.
I wish I knew his name; for it deserves to be recorded with the noblest
heroes the world has known.
LETTER FROM A FREEDMAN TO HIS OLD MASTER.
[Written just as he dictated it.]
DAYTON, OHIO, August 7, 1865.
_To my old Master_, COLONEL P. H. ANDERSON, _Big
Spring, Tennessee_.
Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten
Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again,
promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt
uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before
this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never
heard about your going to Colonel Martin's to kill the Union soldier
that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me
twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and
am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear
old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther,
Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will
meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see
you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the
neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a
chance.
I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give
me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month,
with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,--the
folks call her Mrs. Anderson,--and the children--Milly, Jane, and
Grundy--go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has
a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend
church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others
saying, "Them colored people were slaves" down in Tennessee. The
children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was
no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys
would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you
will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to
decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.
As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be
gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the
Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she
would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to
treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity
by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will
make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and
friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years,
and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two
dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand
six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time
our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our
clothing, and three doctor's visits to me, and pulling a tooth for
Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to.
Please send the money by Adams's Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq.,
Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we
can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good
Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have
done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations
without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in
Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for
the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those
who defraud the laborer of his hire.
In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for
my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls.
You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay
here and starve--and die, if it come to that--than have my girls brought
to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will
also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored
children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to
give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you
when you were shooting at me.
From your old servant,
JOURDON ANDERSON.
* * * * *
SERGEANT W. H. CARNEY, of New Bedford, Massachusetts, was very severely
wounded when the famous Fifty-Fourth Regiment attacked Fort Wagner; but
he resolutely held up the Stars and Stripes, as he dragged his wounded
limb along, amid a shower of bullets; and when he reached his comrades
he exclaimed exultingly, "The dear old flag has never touched the
ground, boys!"
COLONEL ROBERT G. SHAW.
BY ELIZA B. SEDGWICK.
[In the summer of 1863 an attack was made on Fort Wagner, in South
Carolina, by the 54th Massachusetts Regiment, composed of colored
troops. Their leader, COLONEL SHAW, belonging to one of the best
white families in Boston, was killed. When his friends asked for
his body, the reply of the Rebels was, "He is buried with his
niggers."]
Buried with a band of brothers,
Whom for him would fain have died;
Buried with the gallant fellows
Who fell fighting by his side.
Buried with the men God gave him,--
Those whom he was sent to save;
Buried with the martyred heroes,
He has found an honored grave.
Buried where his dust so precious
Makes the soil a hallowed spot;
Buried where by Christian patriot
He shall never be forgot.
Buried in the ground accursed,
Which man's fettered feet have trod;
Buried where his voice still speaketh,
Appealing for the slave to God.
Fare thee well, thou noble warrior!
Who in youthful beauty went
On a high and holy mission,
By the God of battles sent.
Chosen of Him, "elect and precious,"
Well didst thou fulfil thy part;
When thy country "counts her jewels,"
She shall wear thee on her heart.
ADVICE FROM AN OLD FRIEND.
BY L. MARIA CHILD.