CHAPTER XIX.
THE COUNCIL-CHAMBER.—PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

We give in Major Delany’s own language his interview with President Lincoln.

He tells us, “On entering the executive chamber, and being introduced to his excellency, a generous grasp and shake of the hand brought me to a seat in front of him. No one could mistake the fact that an able and master spirit was before me. Serious without sadness, and pleasant withal, he was soon seated, placing himself at ease, the better to give me a patient audience. He opened the conversation first.

“‘What can I do for you, sir?’ he inquired.

“‘Nothing, Mr. President,’ I replied; ‘but I’ve come to propose something to you, which I think will be beneficial to the nation in this critical hour of her peril.’ I shall never forget the expression of his countenance and the inquiring look which he gave me when I answered him.

“‘Go on, sir,’ he said, as I paused through deference to him. I continued the conversation by reminding him of the full realization of arming the blacks of the South, and the ability of the blacks of the North to defeat it by complicity with those at the South, through the medium of the Underground Railroad—a measure known only to themselves.

“I next called his attention to the fact of the heartless and almost relentless prejudice exhibited towards the blacks by the Union army, and that something ought to be done to check this growing feeling against the slave, else nothing that we could do would avail. And if such were not expedited, all might be lost. That the blacks, in every capacity in which they had been called to act, had done their part faithfully and well. To this Mr. Lincoln readily assented. I continued: ‘I would call your attention to another fact of great consideration; that is, the position of confidence in which they have been placed, when your officers have been under obligations to them, and in many instances even the army in their power. As pickets, scouts, and guides, you have trusted them, and found them faithful to the duties assigned; and it follows that if you can find them of higher qualifications, they may, with equal credit, fill higher and more important trusts.’

“‘Certainly,’ replied the president, in his most emphatic manner. ‘And what do you propose to do?’ he inquired.

“I responded, ‘I propose this, sir; but first permit me to say that, whatever I may desire for black men in the army, I know that there exists too much prejudice among the whites for the soldiers to serve under a black commander, or the officers to be willing to associate with him. These are facts which must be admitted, and, under the circumstances, must be regarded, as they cannot be ignored. And I propose, as a most effective remedy to prevent enrolment of the blacks in the rebel service, and induce them to run to, instead of from, the Union forces—the commissioning and promotion of black men now in the army, according to merit.’

“Looking at me for a moment, earnestly yet anxiously, he demanded, ‘How will you remedy the great difficulty you have just now so justly described, about the objections of white soldiers to colored commanders, and officers to colored associates?’

“I replied, ‘I have the remedy, Mr. President, which has not yet been stated; and it is the most important suggestion of my visit to you. And I think it is just what is required to complete the prestige of the Union army. I propose, sir, an army of blacks, commanded entirely by black officers, except such whites as may volunteer to serve; this army to penetrate through the heart of the South, and make conquests, with the banner of Emancipation unfurled, proclaiming freedom as they go, sustaining and protecting it by arming the emancipated, taking them as fresh troops, and leaving a few veterans among the new freedmen, when occasion requires, keeping this banner unfurled until every slave is free, according to the letter of your proclamation. I would also take from those already in the service all that are competent for commission officers, and establish at once in the South a camp of instructions. By this we could have in about three months an army of forty thousand blacks in motion, the presence of which anywhere would itself be a power irresistible. You should have an army of blacks, President Lincoln, commanded entirely by blacks, the sight of which is required to give confidence to the slaves, and retain them to the Union, stop foreign intervention, and speedily bring the war to a close.’

“‘This,’ replied the president, ‘is the very thing I have been looking and hoping for; but nobody offered it. I have thought it over and over again. I have talked about it; I hoped and prayed for it; but till now it never has been proposed. White men couldn’t do this, because they are doing all in that direction now that they can; but we find, for various reasons, it does not meet the case under consideration. The blacks should go to the interior, and the whites be kept on the frontiers.’

“‘Yes, sir,’ I interposed; ‘they would require but little, as they could subsist on the country as they went along.’

“‘Certainly,’ continued he; ‘a few light artillery, with the cavalry, would comprise your principal advance, because all the siege work would be on the frontiers and waters, done by the white division of the army. Won’t this be a grand thing?’ he exclaimed, joyfully. He continued, ‘When I issued my Emancipation Proclamation, I had this thing in contemplation. I then gave them a chance by prohibiting any interference on the part of the army; but they did not embrace it,’ said he rather sadly, accompanying the word with an emphatic gesture.

“‘But, Mr. President,’ said I, ‘these poor people could not read your proclamation, nor could they know anything about it, only, when they did hear, to know that they were free.’

“‘But you of the North I expected to take advantage of it,’ he replied.

“‘Our policy, sir,’ I answered, ‘was directly opposite, supposing that it met your approbation. To this end I published a letter against embarrassing or compromising the government in any manner whatever; for us to remain passive, except in case of foreign intervention, then immediately to raise the slaves to insurrection.’

“‘Ah, I remember the letter,’ he said, ‘and thought at the time that you mistook my designs. But the effect will be better as it is, by giving character to the blacks, both North and South, as a peaceable, inoffensive people.’ Suddenly turning, he said, ‘Will you take command?’

“‘If there be none better qualified than I am, sir, by that time I will. While it is my desire to serve, as black men we shall have to prepare ourselves, as we have had no opportunities of experience and practice in the service as officers.’

“‘That matters but little, comparatively,’ he replied; ‘as some of the finest officers we have never studied the tactics till they entered the army as subordinates. And again,’ said he, ‘the tactics are easily learned, especially among your people. It is the head that we now require most—men of plans and executive ability.’

“‘I thank you, Mr. President,’ said I, ‘for the—’

“‘No—not at all,’ he interrupted.

“‘I will show you some letters of introduction, sir,’ said I, putting my hand in my pocket to get them.

“‘Not now,’ he interposed; ‘I know all about you. I see nothing now to be done but to give you a line of introduction to the secretary of war.’

“Just as he began writing, the cannon commenced booming.

“‘Stanton is firing! listen! he is in his glory! noble man!’ he exclaimed.

“‘What is it, Mr. President?’ I asked.

“‘The firing!’

“‘What is it about, sir,’ I reiterated, ignorant of the cause.

“‘Why, don’t you know? Haven’t you heard the news? Charleston is ours!’ he answered, straightening up from the table on which he was writing for an instant, and then resuming it. He soon handed me a card, on which was written,—

“This card showed he perfectly understood my views and feelings; hence he was not content that my color should make its own impression, but he expressed it with emphasis, as though a point was gained. The thing desired presented itself; not simply a man that was black, because these had previously presented themselves, in many delegations and committees,—men of the highest intelligence,—for various objects; but that which he had wished and hoped for, their own proposed measures matured in the council-chamber had never been fully presented to them in the person of a black man.”

This, then, was what was desired to complete the plans of the president and his splendid minister, the secretary of war. The “ponderous beam,” being removed, to use his figurative expression, his passport was clear to every part of the mansion. He entered the war department for the purpose of seeing the minister. As he entered, a glance revealed to him the presiding genius of the situation, surrounded by his assistants. In the room was a pressing crowd of both sexes, representing nearly every condition of life, each in turn endeavoring to reach the centre of the room, where, at an elevated desk, stood one of the greatest men of the times, and the able director of the war department.

After he had sent forward his card, he was requested by the secretary in person, to whom he was not previously unknown, to call at the department again.

He had gained the interview with the president that he wished, and the indications were brighter than his most sanguine expectations had promised. The war minister’s influence alone could effect the balance.

He sought Dr. William Elder, the distinguished biographer of Dr. Kane, of Arctic memory, who was then chief of the bureau of statistics, and gave him an account of his mission to the president.

After explaining everything to the doctor, his face assuming an expression peculiar to himself, of a whole-souled satisfaction, he exclaimed, “I’ll be hanged if I haven’t got the thing! just the thing! Will you give me that in writing?” he asked; “I mean the points touched upon, that may be written in a letter to me.”

On receiving it, in the afternoon of the same day, after he had read it, he turned to the future major, and said, “You shall have what you want,” in like manner as he replied to a speech of Louis Kossuth, when he told him if he went to war with Austria, he shouldn’t die.

When Delany left Dr. Elder, he was thoroughly convinced, that if the secretary of war could be influenced by any man, in regard to his mission, in none abler could he depend than upon this true and earnest advocate of his race.

The next call at the war department was made the following Monday, the 12th inst. His reception there, being equally as cordial as the first, seemed already to indicate success to his measures.

“What do you propose to do, doctor?” asked the secretary, as Dr. Delany began to explain to him as he did to the president. “I understand the whole thing, and fully comprehend your design; I have frequently gone over the whole ground, in council with the president. What do you wish? What position?” He replied,—

“In any position or place whatever, in which I may be instrumental in promoting the measures proposed, and be of service to the country, so that I am not subject and subordinate to every man who holds a commission, and, with such, chooses to assume authority.”

“Will you take the field?” asked the secretary.

“I should like to do so as soon as possible, but not until I have had sufficient discipline and practice in a camp of instruction, and a sufficient number of black officers to command each regiment,” was the answer given.

“Of course,” said the secretary, “you must establish your camp of instruction; and as you have a general knowledge of the qualified colored men of the country, I propose to commission you at once, and send you South to commence raising troops, to be commanded by black officers, on the principles you proposed, of which I most highly approve, to prevent all clashing or jealousy,—because of no contact to arouse prejudices. It is none of white men’s business what rank a black man holds over his own people. I shall assign you to Charleston, with advices and instructions to Major General Saxton. Do you know him?” he asked. Being answered, he continued, “He is an unflinching friend of your race. You will impart to him, in detail, that which will not be written. The letter giving special instructions will be given to you—all further instructions to be obtained at the department.”

Assistant Adjutant General of Volunteers Colonel C. W. Foster, at this juncture having been sent for, was instructed by the secretary of war to take him to his department, and make the necessary examination; there being no rejection, to prepare and fill out a parchment, with commission of Major of Infantry, the regiment to be left blank, to be filled by order of Major General Saxton, according to instructions to be given, and to report the next morning at eleven o’clock.

After the examination by the adjutant general, he remarked, “This is certainly an important and interesting feature of the war. And the secretary must expect much to be done by you, for he certainly holds you in high esteem.”

“I hope, colonel,” he replied, “that neither the honorable secretary of war nor the government will expect too much from an individual like myself. My only hope is, that I may be able to do my duty well and satisfactorily.”

“I have no fears for your success,” returned the colonel; “you have qualifications and ability, and must succeed, when your chances are such as they will now be. This is a great thing for you,” he continued, “and you have now an opportunity of making yourself anything that you please, and doing for your race all that may be required at the hands of the government.” He, attempting to thank the colonel for the encouraging as well as complimentary remarks, was stopped by him, saying, “I speak as I think and feel about it. The secretary has great confidence in you, and I simply wish to indorse it for your encouragement. There is nothing now to be done,” he continued, “but to call tomorrow, and go with me to the war department to report finally to the secretary of war, and receive your commission from his hands.” All arrangements being completed in the adjutant’s department, he withdrew.

CHAPTER XX.
THE GOLD LEAF.

No Sabbath in war times, we are told, and there was no exception in this case. The following morning (Sabbath), in accordance with the appointment, Delany reported himself at the office of the adjutant general, who accompanied him to the war department. Here the secretary, making the necessary inquiries of the adjutant, received the parchment from him. History repeated itself—the Hebrew in the palaces, the Hun in high places. At that moment the great war minister of our revolution, affixing his official signature, made an epoch in the history of a hitherto unrecognized race, and a pledge in the name of the nation to them irrevocable through all time. It seemed remarkable that in two hemispheres this man should be selected from among so many others to represent marked events in the history of his race! Says Lamartine, “We should not despise any, for the finger of destiny marks in the soul, and not upon the brow.”

So long had Delany fought against error and injustice towards his race, that it seemed almost hopeless to witness, in his day, the faintest semblance of recognition of their right in this land, and for him to be the first to receive that appointment seemed indeed to promise an age “of better metal.”

While the interesting ceremony was being performed, a major general entered the apartment, followed soon after by Senator Ben Wade, of Ohio, now president of the Senate, before whom the new officer was addressed for the first time with a military title.

“Gentlemen,” said the secretary, “I am just now creating a black field officer for the United States service.” Then, addressing himself directly to the new officer, he said, “Major Delany, I take great pleasure in handing you this commission of Major in the United States army. You are the first of your race who has been thus honored by the government; therefore much depends and will be expected of you. But I feel assured it is safe in your hands.”

“Honorable Secretary,” replied the major, as the secretary concluded his remarks, “I can assure you, whatever be my failure to meet the expectations concerning me, on one thing you may depend,—that this parchment will never be dishonored in my hands.”

“Of this I am satisfied. God bless you! Good by.” With a hearty shake of the hand, the secretary concluded, when the first black major in the history of the republic left the department.

If the war had not ended so soon after the major received his commission, there exists no doubt but that his merits would have received further recognition. It is unlikely that the government would have given an unmeaning promotion, and thus debar him from rising to the higher ranks of the army through the same medium as other officers. On returning to the office of the adjutant general, the adjutant remarked, “Major Delany, you have now a great charge intrusted to you,—a great responsibility, certainly, and much will be expected of you, both by your friends and others. You have now an opportunity, if the war continues, of rising in your position to the highest field rank—that of a major general.”

His reply was, that he hoped to be able to perform his duty, so as to merit the approval of his government and his superior officers, and, as a matter of course, intimated courteously that further promotion would not be unacceptable to him.

The following commission is in the usual form; but, being the first on the records of our country credited to a colored American, we reproduce it here.

CHAPTER XXI.
IN THE FIELD.

The appointment of the black officer was received, as such advanced measures are generally, with comments of all shades. By the friends of progress it was hailed with general satisfaction.

True there was, prior to his appointment, one of like rank, but differing in position—that of Dr. Augusta, of Canada, who was accepted after a most rigid examination, as is customary in such cases.

But in the appointment of this field officer there existed an indisputable recognition of the claims of his race to the country. With this interpretation those who formerly hesitated in accepting the policy of the administration now upheld it with confidence. And from the golden leaf of promise, borne upon the shoulders of the first black officer, a light clear and steady seemed to shine forth, illumining with a strange, wild splendor the hitherto dark pages of his people’s history, heralding the glory of the future to them.

Before he left Washington, he communicated with colored men, as far as was prudent, to make the necessary preparation in the event of a black army being organized, to be commanded by black officers. For in the Union army there were many men, from the North especially, of fine talent and scholastic attainments, who, from their experience and knowledge gained in the military campaigns, could at once be made available.

Certain leading spirits of the “Underground Railroad” were invoked. Scouts incog. were already “on to Richmond,” and the services of the famous Harriet Tubman, having been secured to serve in the South, had received her transportation for Charleston, S. C.

These arrangements being effected, he went to Cleveland, Ohio, to meet a council of his co-laborers, in order to enforce suitable measures by which the slave enlistment might be prevented, and to demoralize those already enrolled, as rumors had reached the North of such enlistment having been started at Richmond.

With his friend George Vosburg, Esq., in the lead, whom he likens always to “a flame alive, but unseen,” the most active measures were instituted at this council, as their proceedings show.

These gave evidence that the appointment of one of their number was recognized by them as an appeal, though the day was far spent of the country’s need for the aid of the colored men of the North, and at the first certain sound they hastened with their offerings.

A few days were spent at his home, preparing for his departure; and being delayed on the way by a freshet, he did not reach New York until the second day after the departure of the steamer for Charleston. While it delayed the principal measures, it gave him a week in New York, in which to perfect preliminary arrangements. Here business of importance was entered upon, and the eloquent William Howard Day, M. A., was chosen to arrange the military policy of the underground railroad relative to the slave enlistment.

Mr. Day, in obedience to instructions of the plans laid down, and in anticipation of some appointment, such as his splendid talents entitled him to, performed the task with ability and earnestness. There were others among the leading colored men who showed their appreciation of this movement; among them the learned Rev. J. W. C. Pennington, D. D., as the following extract from his letter, dated March 29, 1863, will show:—

“Major: Finding that our views so nearly harmonize in reference to arming the slaves, I will give you one of the illustrations I use in my lecture on the duty of interposing our efforts to prevent the rebels from consummating the act: ‘We have noticed by their own papers that the rebel authorities have many of their great meetings in the African church in Richmond. It was there that Benjamin, the rebel secretary of state, first publicly announced the plan of arming the slaves. Did the pastor of that colored church and his congregation have the privilege of taking part in that meeting? Not a bit of it. Did they have the privilege of holding a meeting on the subject themselves in their own place of worship? No.

“‘What was the object of the rebels in holding their great meetings in the African church? Was it because it is one of the largest buildings in the city? No, they had another object. That was, to suppress any Union feelings that exist among the hundreds of slaves and free people of color who compose that congregation, and to palm off the lie to the world that they are friendly to the colored people, and that those people are acting freely with them.

“‘Look at the devilish impudence of this scheme of holding meetings in the African church! It is to drag the slaves and colored Christians with them into all the wickedness of the rebellion. Now, it is asked, Why we do not hear a voice from the pastor of that church and his people? The answer is obvious. They are prevented by the FORCE of CIRCUMSTANCES from speaking a word.

“‘If the Son of God should enter that house, as he did the temple at Jerusalem (Mark xi. 15, 16), and thus give that congregation the right of free speech, you would soon hear a voice going out from that church, that would reach every slave in the South, telling them which way to fight. And that church will speak as soon as Grant takes Richmond! And who does not long for the day when that, the largest colored church in the United States shall be free? Who would not aid in that great forward movement of the Army of the Potomac, that will result in clearing Richmond? But in this state of facts as to that church, we have precisely the position of the 200,000 slaves whom the rebels are about to arm against us!

“‘Let us not forget what slavery is. It is based upon the assumption, first, that the slave has no will of his own; second, that his sole business is to obey orders. Hence they will be put into the rebel army as slaves, to all intents and purposes, and substantially under slave discipline; they will be surrounded by circumstances which will make it far more difficult for them to escape than many think; and of course, for the time being, they would be COMPELLED to do us untold injury. What, then, is our duty? Our duty is to anticipate the action of the rebels—organize, plan, and go forward, and settle the case for our brethren. We have no right to stand still, and presume that they will, when armed, turn at once on our side. And it is cruel to prejudge them in the matter. Our duty is to carry out the letter and spirit of the Proclamation of Freedom. It would be an awful state of things to see the 200,000 Union colored soldiers confronted by 200,000 of our own race, under the rebel banner!... No, this must not be. It shall not be. It cannot be if we do our duty. That is, to go to our brethren, and tell them what to do.’”

A romantic incident is related in connection with the Cleveland council. As Delany concluded, a moment of intense interest and silence followed, and suddenly an interesting girl of some fourteen years sprang to her feet, and rushed up to the platform where he stood, gently resting her hand upon his arm, and anxiously looking up into his face, exclaimed, “O, Major Delany, I ask one favor of you: will you spare my grandfather when you reach Charleston?” Giving the name of her grandfather in the same excited breath, she continued, “Spare him and grandma! There sits my ma: for her sake, if not mine, spare my dear grandpa’s family.”

He strove to calm her anxiety, assuring her of the security of her grandfather’s family, even if the genuine Schemmelfening had not already had the city. His mission was not with fire and sword for indiscriminate slaughter, but rather to guide his brethren to liberty.

On his arrival in Charleston, the honored grandparents, unconscious of this incident, were among the earliest callers to give him welcome, and to offer him the generous civilities of their family; and these were ever after numbered among his most esteemed friends.

In expectation of a continuance of the war, he writes, “I was anxious to reach my destination, organize the black army, and see that elegant mulatto gentleman as field officer, hear his rich, deep-toned voice as he rode along the lines, giving command, or shouting in the deadly conflict, rallying the troops on to victory. Such a sight I desired to see in the cause of liberty and the Union. For William Howard Day, unobtrusive as he appears, is a brave, determined man: once aroused, he is as a panther, that knows no fear. But now that the war is ended, his aid in the battle-field will not be required. And the Union will be safe if reëstablished on the basis of righteousness, truth, and justice.”

Leaving New York, and having secured the ablest workers with whom to begin the great mission intrusted to him, he arrived at Hilton Head, and in the same afternoon at Beaufort.

This beautiful little town, facing a bay of equal beauty, but of tortuous winding, never gave promise of rivalling or imitating the cities of Charleston and Savannah on either side in commercial greatness. In fact, its population was limited almost exclusively to the planters of the adjoining islands and their slaves, a few free colored families, and a less number of poor whites. The salubrity of the climate enhanced its attractions, and made it desirable as the summer residence of many of the wealthy magnates. The town was abandoned by the entire white population at the approach of the naval force. Here were the headquarters of Brevet Major General Saxton, at which Major Delany reported himself for duty, immediately on his arrival. Some time afterwards, speaking of the noble general who led, by sealed orders, the first campaign sent forth to proclaim emancipation, he said that in his frequent intercourse with him there, he was soon convinced that the friends of his race were not confined to the executive department at Washington. This may be considered as the general opinion uttered by him; for among the colored people and poor whites of South Carolina, General Rufus Saxton stood as the beloved friend and benefactor, and esteemed among his brother officers generally as a gentleman and soldier.

At the post, while every officer rode with a black orderly, General Saxton’s orderly was white!

The post was in active preparation for the flag raising at Sumter. And on the Saturday previous to the memorable 19th of April, the general and staff, Major Delany accompanying the party, sailed for Charleston.

Prior to leaving Beaufort he received the following order:—

CHAPTER XXII.
AT CHARLESTON AND FORT SUMTER.

The excitement attending the scenes of the evacuation of the city and its occupation by the Union forces was scarcely lulled, when it rose again on the arrival of the “black major,” to whom the rumor preceding his advent had given the rank of Major General.

Arriving in the city on the Sabbath, when most of the people were gathered at the various places of worship, the news soon became noised about. And from the early forenoon until long after nightfall, a continuous stream of visitors poured in upon him, eager to pay their respects to him. These composed the colored residents of both sexes, representing every age and condition; nor did this cease when their curiosity became satisfied, but grew with their acquaintance and increased with time. At the time of his arrival the population of the once proud city was limited, consisting only of a few regiments of Union soldiers on duty, the former free people, the new freedmen,—a greater portion of the latter being driven from the plantations around the city, and from the upper portions of the state,—and a few white families representing the old element. An air of mournful desolation seemed to brood over the conquered city. There existed no signs of traffic, except in the sutlers’ stores of the regiments.

Confederate bonds and scrip were most plenteous, and but a small amount of currency was in circulation with which to purchase the common necessaries of life. For this cause thousands were thrown upon the charity of the government for daily subsistence. Nor was it confined to the colored people; it was no uncommon sight to meet daily in the streets many of the former enemies of the government, loaded with its injustice (!) to them in the form of a huge basket of subsistence received from the quartermaster’s department, and in many instances assisted by some former chattel, who in several known cases, afterwards, with true negro generosity, divided their own portion with them. Such was their position after the evacuation of the city. Never before in the history of Anglo-Saxon civilization were there such manifestations of genuine charity and forbearance towards an unscrupulous and implacable foe, as indicated by the actions of government. “I was hungry and ye gave me meat, naked and ye clothed me,” were literally proven by these recipients of its immense charities. This gave promise of more converts than the sword. While the great concourse of people, gathered for rations at different places, attracted thither the curious visitor, he would turn from this to the many evidences of the unerring precision of the batteries of Morris Island, which met his gaze on every hand, suggestive of the tales of horror, and in many instances of retributive justice, through which they had so recently passed. Much property was destroyed and but few lives during the siege.

There were incidents related of marvellous escapes from the reach of these shells, and also deaths of a most appalling character on being overtaken by them,—the greater portion of the latter being colored persons, the innocent sharing a worse fate than the guilty.

One case of sad interest happened at midnight, while the siege was at its height, occurring in a family representing the wealth, culture, and refinement of the respectable colored citizens of the city. The father of this family, a man of great mechanical genius, accumulated considerable property and established for himself a well-earned reputation as a skilful machinist throughout the state. They were aroused one night by the noise which usually precedes the near approach of a shell, which was seen by a member of the family to fall within a few feet of the house, who, occupying the third story of the building, attempted to escape below with his wife; but before either could escape from the room, a second report was heard, followed almost immediately by the appearance of a shell entering the roof above them, crashing through the ceilings, which, in covering the latter with its débris, preserved her life, the fragments scattering, one of the pieces falling into the front room beneath, only disfiguring a bedstead, but not injuring its occupants, while another piece, more remorseless, taking another direction, entered the back room, burying itself in the side of an interesting boy of twelve years, the little grandson of the old gentleman. The child, startled from its sleep by the double shock of the explosion and terrible wound, rushed from the room, exclaiming, in his agony, “Mother! mother! I am killed!” It was eleven days of the most excruciating agony before the angel of death relieved little Weston McKenlay. Never did Christianity and true womanhood beam more beauteously than at the moment when the mother of that child, relating the wild confusion of that night, laying aside her own personal sorrow, said, “It was God’s will that the deliverance of the South should cost us all something.” Major Delany, in speaking of this class of Charlestonians, as well as the colored people generally, says, “Their courtesy and natural kindness I have never seen equalled, while instances of their humanity to the Union prisoners at the risk of their own lives, speak in trumpet tones to their credit, of which the country is already cognizant.” On Tuesday after his arrival, an immense gathering greeted him at Zion’s Church, the largest in the city, indescribable in enthusiasm and numbers. In the church were supposed to be upwards of three thousand, while the yard and street leading to the church were densely packed.

The resolutions passed on this memorable occasion by them we present here, embodying a testimony of their gratitude for their signal deliverance from a conflagration which threatened to involve them in a general desolation, and of their patriotism, setting aside forever the error that the sympathies of the free colored citizens were enlisted on the side of their enemies, and not that of the Union, for many they were who participated in this meeting. We reproduce it also as expressive of the sentiments gushing from the hearts of a people for the first time in their history holding a political meeting on the soil of Carolina, with open doors, with none to condemn it as “an unlawful assemblage,” amenable to law for the act.

Brevet Major General Saxton, and other distinguished officers were present, and freely took part in the proceedings. Here Major Delany, for the first time, introduced the subject foremost in his mind, that of raising an armée d’Afrique, which subject met the enthusiastic approval of his auditors, and the movement for its organization soon became popular.

The eventful 14th of April, which was so eagerly awaited, came, and the earliest beams of the morning found the “City of the Sea” alive with preparations for the brilliant scene at Sumter, unconscious of its fearful tragic close at Washington. The city was almost deserted during the ceremony in the harbor, for all were anxious to witness the flag in its accustomed place, with its higher, truer symbol, placed there by the same hands which were once compelled to lower it to a jubilant but now conquered foe, maddened prior to their destruction. As the old silken bunting winged itself to its long-deserted staff, thousands of shouts, and prayers fervent and deep, accompanying, greeted its reappearance.

Major Delany embarked to witness the ceremony on the historical steamer Planter, with its gallant commander, Robert Small, whose deeds will live in song and story, whose unparalleled feat and heroic courage in the harbor of Charleston, under the bristling guns of rebel batteries, bearing comparison with the proudest record of our war, will remain, commemorative of negro strategy and valor.

On the quarter-deck of the steamer the major remained an interested witness. Beside him stood one, whose father, believing and loving the doctrine that all men were born free and equal, and within sight of the emblem of freedom as it floated from the battlements of Sumter, dared to aim a blow by which to free his race. Betrayed before his plans were matured, the scaffold gave to Denmark Vesey and his twenty-two slave-hero compatriots in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1822, the like answer which Charlestown, Virginia, gave John Brown in 1859.

Virginia was free, and black soldiers were now quartered in the citadel of Charleston, and garrisoned Fort Sumter. The martyred reformers had not died in vain.

The excitement attending the scene continued during the week, occasioned by the presence of the distinguished company who came to participate in the restoration of the flag at Fort Sumter. There were seen the veterans of the anti-slavery cause, the inspired and dauntless apostle of liberty, William Lloyd Garrison, the time-honored Joshua Leavitt, the eloquent George Thompson of England; then the glorious young editor of the Independent, the able and accomplished orator of the day, Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Judge Kellogg, and others, all anxious to tell the truths of freedom to these hungry souls. The colored schools paraded the streets to honor these visitors, flanked by thousands of adults, marshalled by their superintendent and assistants, and led by stirring bands discoursing martial music, the citadel square densely crowded, and the great Zion’s Church packed to overflowing. There were speakers on the stands erected on the square—speakers at the church. There were shouts for liberty and for the Union, shouts for their great liberator, shouts for the army, rousing cheers for the speakers, for their loved General Saxton, and for the “black major;” the people swayed to and fro like a rolling sea.

On Saturday morning, when the visitors left, an immense concourse followed to the wharf; the steamer seemed loaded with floral gifts, the graceful ovation of the colored people to their friends. Cheer after cheer resounded for a parting word from them. They were answered by Messrs. Thompson and Tilton; at last came forth the immortal Garrison in answer to an irresistible call.

Major Delany, describing this parting scene at the dock, says, “The mind was forcibly carried back to the days of the young and ardent advocate of emancipation, incarcerated in a Baltimore prison, peering through the gates and bars, hurling defiance at his cowardly opponents, exclaiming, ‘No difficulty, no dangers, shall deter me: at the East or at the West, at the North or at the South, wherever Providence may call me, my voice shall be heard in behalf of the perishing slave, and against the claims of his oppressors.’ Again did the mind revert to him in after years, as a man of high integrity in the city of Boston, led as a beast to the slaughter, with the lyncher’s rope around his neck, only escaping death by imprisonment. When exhausted, he fell to the floor, exclaiming, ‘Never was man so glad to get into prison before!’ And in this his last speech he was more sublime than ever. There he stood in the harbor of Charleston, surrounded by the emancipated slave, giving his last anti-slavery advice:—

“‘And now, my friends, I bid you farewell. I have always advocated non-resistance; but this much I say to you, Come what will never do you submit again to slavery! Do anything; die first! But don’t submit again to them—never again be slaves. Farewell.’

“When the steamer gracefully glided from the pier, the music struck up in stirring strains, shouts rent the air, and the masses, after gazing with tearful eyes, commenced slowly retracing their steps homeward. Never can I forget the scenes transpiring in this eventful week of my arrival at Charleston, nor on different similar occasions during my official station there.”

At a meeting of the colored citizens of Charleston, South Carolina, held at Zion Presbyterian Church, March 29, 1865, the following preamble and resolutions were unanimously adopted:—