fear of mob violence, was worth all the precious boon had cost, to feel that our words, our actions, our thoughts even, were not subject to the misinterpretation of irresponsible inquisitors, that we were not under Venetian espionage, but in free America, answerable to God alone for our thoughts, and to no man for our actions, so long as they did not infringe the rights of others.

Henceforth there shall be free speech in Charleston. A party of twenty gentlemen began the new era on the 22d of February, and to me it will ever be a pleasant reflection that I was one of the privileged number.

While dining we heard the sound of drums and a chorus of voices. Looking down the broad avenue we saw a column of troops advancing with steady step and even ranks. It was nearly sunset, and their bayonets were gleaming in the level rays. It was General Potter's brigade, led by the Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts, a regiment recruited from the ranks of slavery. Sharp and shrill the notes of the fife, stirring the drum-beat, deep and resonant the thousand voices singing their most soul-thrilling war-song,

"John Brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave."

Mingling with the chorus were cheers for Governor Andrew and Abraham Lincoln !

They raised their caps, hung them upon their bayonets. Proud their bearing. They came as conquerors. Some of them had walked those streets before as slaves. Now they were freemen, soldiers of the Union, defenders of its flag.

Around them gathered a dusky crowd of men, women, and children, dancing, shouting, mad with very joy. Mothers held up their little ones to see the men in blue, to catch a sight of the starry flag, with its crimson folds and tassels of gold.

"O dark, sad millions, patiently and dumb,
Waiting for God, your hour at last has come,
And freedom's song

Breaks the long silence of your night of wrong."

Up the avenue, past the citadel, with unbroken ranks, they marched, offering no insult, uttering no epithet, manifesting no revenge, for all the wrongs of centuries heaped upon them by a people now humbled and at their mercy.

While walking down the street an hour later, I inquired my way of a white woman. She was going in the same direction, and kindly volunteered to direct me.

"How do the Yankees behave?" I asked.

"O, they behave well enough, but the niggers are dreadful

sassy.

They have not insulted you, I hope."

"O no, they have n't insulted me, but they have other folks. They don't turn out when we meet them; they smoke cigars and go right up to a gentleman and ask him for a light!"

The deepest humiliation to the Charlestonians was the presence of negro soldiers. They were the provost guard of the city, with their head-quarters in the citadel. Whoever desired protection papers or passes, whoever had business with the marshal or the general commanding the city, rich or poor, high-born or low-born, white or black, man or woman, must meet a colored sentinel face to face and obtain from a colored sergeant permission to enter the gate. They were first in the city, and it was their privilege to guard it, their duty to maintain law and order.

A Rebel officer who had given his parole, but who was indiscreet enough to curse the Yankees, was quietly marched off to the guard-house by these colored soldiers. It was galling to his pride, and he walked with downcast eyes and subdued demeanor.

The gorgeous spectacle of the numerous war vessels in the harbor flaming with bunting from yardarm and topmast, and thundering forth a national salute in double honor of the day and the victory, deeply impressed the minds of the colored population with the invincibility of the Yankees.

"O gosh a mighty! It is no use for de Rebs to think of standing out against de Yankees any longer. I'll go home and bring Dinah down to see de sight!" cried an old freedman as he beheld the fleet. Bright colors are the delight of the African race, and a grand display of any kind has a wonderful effect on their imagination.

Neither the white nor the colored people comprehended the change which had taken place in their fortunes. The whites

forgot that they were no longer slave-drivers. Passing down Rutledge Street one morning I saw a crowd around the door of a building. A friend who was there in advance of me said that he heard an outcry, looked in, and found a white man whipping a colored woman. Her outcries brought a colored sergeant of the Provost Guard and a squad of men, who quietly took the woman away, told her to go where she pleased, and informed the man that that sort of thing was "played out." Two white women were passing at the time. "O my God!

To think that we should ever come to this!" was the exclamation of one. 66 Yes, madam, you have come to it, and will have to come to a good deal more," was the reply of my friend. There were a few Union men in the city, who through the long struggle had been true to the old flag. They were mostly Germans. Many Union officers escaping from prison had been kindly cared for by these faithful friends, who had been subjected to such close surveillance that secretiveness had become a marked trait of character.

I saw a small flag waving from a window, and wishing to find out what sort of a Union man resided there, rang the bell. A man came to the door, of middle age, light hair, and an honest German face.

"I saw the stars and stripes thrown out from your window, and have called to shake hands with a Union man, for I am a Yankee."

He grasped my proffered hand and shook it till it ached. "Come in, sir. God bless you, sir!"

Then suddenly checking himself, he lowered his voice, looked into the adjoining rooms, peeped behind doors, to see if there were a listener near.

"We have to be careful; spies all about us," said he, not fully realizing that the soldiers of the Union had possession of the city. He showed me a large flag.

"Since the fall of Sumter," said he, "my wife and I have slept on it every night. We have had it sewed into a featherbed."

He gazed upon it as if it were the most blessed thing in the world.

He had aided several soldiers in escaping from prison; and