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'I'm gwlne to climb up higher and higher, 
I'm gwine to climb up higher and higher, 
I'm gwine to climb up higher and higher ; 
Den my little soul's gwine to shine, shine, 
Oh! den my little soul's gwine to shine along." 
Old Slave Song. 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by 


in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



The desire to know more about Hampton and its students, on the 
part of the many friends of this Institution, has been one reason for 
publishing this little book. To them, and to the many other friends 
of the freedmen and of all the great interests of humanity who, we 
hope, will be made Hampton's friends by reading it, the authors 
wish to say that while the impressions it givesof the school and the 
life in and around it are in every sense their own, for which they 
are therefore alone responsible, the historical and statistical infor- 
mation contained in these pages is official, and may be relied upon 
as accurate. 

For all of its illustrations, except the first and the last three, the 
book is indebted to the courtesy of Messrs. Harper Bros., who have 
kindly allowed the use of their wood-cuts. 

M. F. A. 

H. W. L. 

Hampton, January i, 1874. 


The School and its Story , . . . .M. F. Armstrong. 7 

A Teacher's Witness " 36 

The Butler School , " 67 

Interior Views of the School and the Cabin. Helen W. 

Ludlow 71 

What is the Privileged Color ? 75, 

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 78 

How Aunt Sally Hugged the Old Flag 81 

The Woman Question Again 85 

The Richness of English 91 

The Sunny Side of Slavery 95 

Father Parker's Story loi 

,*' Want to feel right about it" 105 

A Case of Incomplete Sanctification 109 

Just where to put dem. 115 

Hunger and Thirst after Knowledge 121 

The Hampton Students in the North — Singing and Build- 
ing •- Helen W. Ludlow. 127 

Virginia Hall " 151 

Appendix : 

Appeal 159 

The Southern Workman 161 

Speech of the Hon. William H. Ruffner 161 

Letters from Public School Officers and others 163 

Financial History of the Institute 165 

Extract from the Catalogue of 1873-74 167 

Report of Prof. R. D, Hitchcock and others. 170 

Cabin and Plantation Songs , . , Tho?nas P. Fenner. 171 


Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute Frontispiece. 

Virginia Hall 8 

Walls of St. John's Church 12 

Teachers' Home and Girls' Quarters . . . , ^ 26 

Chapel and Farm Manager's Home 41 

Lion and John Solomon 42 

Printing-office 43 

Assembly-Room 50 

Reading- Room 54 

Winter Quarters 60 

Ball Club 64 

Butler School-House 66 

Negro Cabin at Hampton 72 

Virginia Hall — New Building 152 

" " Second-floor Plan 154 

" " Interior of Girls' Room 156 


By M. F. a. 

Among all the States of the Union, not one has a history 
more interesting than Virginia, for her annals are full of 
strangely poetic incident, from the world-famous idyl of Poca- 
hontas to the tragic stories still fresh in our own memories ; and 
from the fertile seaboard to the rich mountain valleys of her 
western border, there is scarcely a field or village that has not 
its tale to tell. More than one great name, " familiar in our 
mouths as household words," belongs in the catalogue of Vir- 
ginia's children ; and although to-day her greatness is a thing 
of the past and the future, yet that future promises such cer- 
tainty as is more than guaranteed by her natural advantages 
and the brave and willing temper of her people. 

In the history of this State, there arose, long years ago, an 
unnatural relation between two races, which furnished a pro- 
blem, dealt with by statesmen, philanthropists, and fanatics, 
and finally solved by God himself, in his own time, and his own 
way ; and it is with an outgrowth of that problem and its solu- 
tion that this little book has to do. 

The introduction of negroes into the country as slaves was 
made at a time when only a few minds, here and there, had 
any true conception of the rights of individuals, or could put 
a fair interpretation upon that higher law which makes us our 
brothers' keepers ; and the virgin soil and relaxing climate of 



the South made slavery so temptingly easy and profitable as to 
insure its continuance until a Power stronger than humanity 
interfered to bring it to an end. In no part of the United 
States can the history of negro slavery, from its origin to its 
extinction, be more clearly traced than in Virginia ; aifd as that 
State was chosen as the scene of bitterest struggle, so it seems 
likely to attain the earliest and highest development, for within 
its borders are now being fairly tested the possibilities of the 
African race, and the results to them and the whites of the new 
relations of freedom. It is not too much to say that through- 
out the history of slavery in Virginia, there runs a strain of 
poetic justice which is absolutely dramatic, robbing facts of 
their dryness and interweaving the prosaic details of life with 
the elements of tragedy. Nowhere has there been greater 
prosperity, nowhere has there been greater suffering, and many 
a page might be filled with the record of the changes which a 
century has wrought, of the old things that have passed away, 
and the new hopes that are blossoming for the future ; and in 
writing this brief story of an experiment which is just now 


being tried upon Virginian soil, there will be an earnest attempt 
to offer such testimony of the capacity of a hitherto enslaved 
race, and of the intelligent and generous action of their whilom 
owners, as shall not be altogether valueless. ' 

This experiment of negro education is too serious a matter 
to be treated otherwise than with the severest honesty ; it is 
not to be wrought out in the white heat of fanaticism, or the 
glow of a superficial sentiment, but must rather be tested by 
patient, practical trial on the largest possible scale ; and such 
trial can at present be made only under specially favorable cir- 
cumstances. There must be a suitable climate, a need and an 
ability to pay for skilled labor, and a fairly unprejudiced and 
intelligent white population, while, of course, the willingness of 
the blacks themselves to assist in the work of their own en- 
lightenment must, to a certain extent, be taken for granted. 
Such a combination of circumstances exists in a marked degree 
in Virginia, and in that State, past events seem, in a curious 
fashion, to have paved the way for the present endeavor. Not 
but that what may be found true of the blacks in Virginia will 
hold good in all parts of our Southern country, but merely that 
in all initial experiments of this nature, involving possibly the 
life of a whole race, justice demands that the weakness and 
ignorance of those whose fate hangs in the balance should, if 
possible, be compensated for by the offer of especial opportu- 

Therefore, when we ask our readers to go back with us at 
first into the past of a little Virginian town, we are only ask- 
ing them to trace by and by for themselves a logical sequence 
of events whose results promise to-day a glorious success, and 
whose close relation to each other can scarcely be without in- 
terest to any who are taking thought as to the future of the 


African people on this continent. We have said that there is 
scarcely a village in Virginia that has not its tale to tell, and 
truly no romancer need desire richer material than lies ready to 
his hand in many of the older settlements which still bear the 
mark of their English origin, and hold in their mouldy parish- 
registers or upon the moss-grown stones in their neglected 
graveyards, the names of famous old English houses whose 
cadets, or even whose heads, came with rash enterprise to meet 
their death in the wilderness which they dreamed was to yield 
them instead a fabulous treasure. 

Just at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, where one of its 
numerous tributary creeks opens into the broad harbor of 
Hampton Roads, stands a little village, scattered along the 
western shore of the creek, with its half-ruined houses and 
low, white cabins irregularly clustered upon the level green 
meadows down to the very water's edge. The back country 
through which the creek wanders for the few miles of its 
course, and the shore itself, are flat and monotonous, except for 
the brilliant coloring and golden, semi-tropical sunshine which 
for eight months in the year redeem the landscape from the 
latter charge. But the changeful beauty of the shore, even 
when at its climax in the fresh spring months, can bear no 
comparison with the eternal beauty of the sea, which, stretch- 
ing far on either hand, offers by day and night, in calm and 
storm, new glories and beautiful, strange surprises of color and 
sound and motion. When the fury of an Atlantic storm drives 
vessel after vessel into the secure anchorage of the Roads, 
until a whole fleet is gathered under the guns of Old Point Com- 
fort ; or when, on some bright, breezy morning, scores of white- 
winged oyster-boats put out from every safe nook of the shore, 
dotting the sparkling blue of the bay like snowy birds ; or, bet- 


ter still, when the fading crimson glow of sunset makes the shore 
shadowy, and indistinct, and the little returning flotilla floats 
tranquilly homeward to the slow dip of oars and the weird, rich 
singing of the negro boatmen — then one gazes and listens, to 
confess at last that such scenes are hard to rival, and that this 
unfamiliar bit of Virginia coast need not fear the verdict bf 
critics with whom still lingers the remembrance of Mediterra- 
nean skies or distant tropic seas. 

By this broad, shining sea-path, there came, more than two 
hundred years ago, the daring little band of Englishmen who 
settled the town of Hampton, and made it their head-quarters 
in the colonization of the neighboring country. Their story is 
too well known to every child in America to need recapitulation 
here. Their hopes and their disappointments, their struggles 
and sufferings, their defeats, and final victory over the obsta- 
cles that opposed their- determination to possess, in their 
Queen's name, the beautiful fertile land they had discovered — 
all these are a part of the nation's history not easily to be for- 
gotten. In Hampton itself still stands the quaint little church 
of St. John, built between 1660 and 1667, and the records of 
the court, which date as far back as 1635, prove that even before 
that time a church had been built ; while the old, deserted grave- 
yard has many a grave whose hollow holds the dust of English 
hearts broken or wearied out by unaccustomed, hardship. Here 
and there may still be found vestiges of these earliest occu- 
pants of the soil; but from its first settlement, the town of 
Hampton has passed through such vicissitude as does not often 
fall to the lot of an obscure village ; for the fortunes of war have 
been uniformly against it, and it has seen more wars than one. 
In 181 2, the town was sacked and left desolate, its geographical 
position exposing it to especial dangers, while it was unable to 




defend itself, and was not of sufficient importance to receive 
efficient protection. 

Years before this time, however, the curse which was the 
cause of the bhghted prosperity, not of one town only, but of 
the whole South, had fallen, and when the first cargo of slaves 
was landed within a few miles of Hampton, it was as if men's 
eyes were thereafter blinded to the light of God's truth, for 
from that hapless day, each year but added to the incubus, until 
relief could only come through fire and sword. Viewed in the 


light of later events, this landing of the first slaves at Hamp- 
ton ranks as one of the strange coincidences of fate ; for here 
upon the spot where they tasted first the bitterness of slavery, 
they also first attained to the privileges of freemen, the famous 
order which made them " contraband of war," and thereby vir- 
tually gave them their freedom, having been issued by General 
Benjamin F. Butler, from the camp at Fortress Monroe, in May, 

The year of 1861 opened with threats of trouble near at 
hand, and before the spring had fairly set in, our civil war began, 
the country in the neighborhood of Fortress Monroe becom- 
ing almost immediately the scene of bitter contest ; for the 
importance of that post as a centre of operations was second 
to none other on the Atlantic seaboard. The creek upon 
which Hampton stands was for a while the boundary-line 
between the two armies — the Union lines remaining intrenched 
upon its eastern shore during the early part of the war, while 
the combating forces swayed back and forth as fortune favored 
one or the other. The town and the long bridge across the creek 
were burned, and the few houses of the richer residents which 
escaped the general destruction were made the head-quarters 
of Union or Confederate officers, as might be, until the lawless 
hands of successive possessors had obliterated all traces of 
former luxury. Before the war, Hampton and Old Point Com- 
fort were favorite watering-places with the better class of 
Virginians, and summer after summer had seen the rambling, 
airy houses filled with Southern aristocracy ; so that the havoc 
of war wrought a quick and startling change from the gayety 
of one season to the terror of the next. 

But as the months went by, a greater chafige than all drew 
near ; and when in the early summer of 1861, troops of blacks 


came pouring in from the interior of the State and the north- 
ern counties of North-Carolina, then, indeed, the real meaning 
of the war and its inevitable end became apparent, and the 
question was no longer, " What is to be done with the slaves ?" 
but instead, " What is to be done with the freedmen ?" 

Newbern, North-Carolina, and Hampton, Virginia, were the 
two cities of refuge to which they fled, their lives in their 
hands, as the Israelites of old fled from the avengers of blood. 
Fortress Monroe and its guns offered tangible protection, and 
the spirit of the officers in command promised a surer protec- 
tion still ; so that in little squads, in families, singly, or by whole 
plantations, the negroes flocked within the Northern lines, until 
the whole area of ground protected by the Union encamp- 
ments was crowded with their little hurriedly-built cabins of 
rudely-split logs. A remnant of these still remains in a suburb 
of Hampton, numbering about five hundred inhabitants, and 
known by the significant name of Slabtown, and another called 
more euphoniously Sugar Hill — on some principle oihicus a non 
lucendo, it must be, as it is situated on a dead level, and cer- 
tainly has no appearance of offering much literal or figurative 
sweetening to the lives of its inhabitants. 

How these people lived was and still is a mystery, for the 
rations issued them from the army and hospital establishment 
were necessarily insufficient, and those at the North who would 
gladly have welcomed the new-comers with practical assistance 
were already overburdened with the paramount claims of army 
work. However, all through that long first summer of the war, 
we find occasional evidence that these new-born children of 
freedom were not altogether forgotten ; and in October of the 
same year, we know that organized work was begun among 


This work was initiated by the officers of the American Mis- 
sionary Association, who, in August, i86i, sent down as mis- 
sionary to the freedmen, the Rev. C. L. Lockwood, his way 
having been opened for him by an official correspondence and 
interviews with the Assistant Secretary of War and Gene- 
rals Butler and Wool, all of whom heartily approved of the 
enterprise and offered him cordial cooperation. He found the 
"contrabands" quartered in deserted houses, in cabins and 
tents, destitute and desolate, but in the main willing to help 
themselves as far as possible, and of at least average intelligence 
and honesty. There was, of course, little regular employment 
to offer them, and they subsisted upon government rations, 
increased by the little they could earn in one way and another. 
Mr. Lockwood's first work was the establishment of Sunday- 
schools and church societies, and his own words show the 
spirit in which the assistance he was able to give was offered 
and received. He says, in one of his first letters to the Ame- 
rican Missionary Association, " I shall mingle largely with my 
religious instruction the inculcation of industrious habits, order, 
and good conduct in every respect. I tell them that they are 
a spectacle before God and man, and that if they would further 
the cause of liberty, it behooves them to be impressed with 
their own responsibility. I am happy to find that they realize 
this to a great extent already." 

This was certainly encouraging, and he goes on to report 
that he finds little intemperance, and a hunger for books among 
those who can read, which is most gratifying. He appeals at 
once for primers, and for two or three female teachers to open 
week-day schools ; and recommends that, in view of the impe- 
rativeness of the need, the subject should be brought before 
the public through the daily press and by means of public 


meetings. At the same time, he describes the opening of the 
first Sunday-school in the deserted mansion of ex-President 
Tyler, in Hampton, and, from his personal observation, declares 
that many of the colored people are kept away from the schools 
by want of clothing, a want which he looks to the North to 
supply. A little later in the year, he writes that, on Novem- 
ber 17th, the first day-school was opened with twenty scholars 
and a colored teacher, Mrs. Peake, who, before the war, being 
free herself, had privately instructed many of her people who 
were still enslaved, although such work was not without its 

From this time, schools were established as rapidly as suita- 
ble teachers could be found and proper books provided ; but it 
must be noted that these teachers were working almost with- 
out compensation, their sole motive being a desire for the eleva- 
tion of the race. As a proof of the quick awakening of the 
^x-slaves to a sense of the duties of freedom, Mr. Lockwood 
mentions that marriages were becoming very frequent, and 
that although the fugitives lived in constant fear of being re- 
manded to slavery, they did not remit their efforts to obtain 
education and to raise themselves from the degradation of their 

In December, i86r, at the annual meeting of the American 
Missionary Association, it was resolved that " the new field of 
missionary labor in Virginia should be faithfully cultivated, 
and that the colored brethren there were fully entitled to the 
advantages of compensated labor ;" which latter clause was a 
much-needed acknowledgment, for in the same month we find it 
stated that government, in return for the rations supplied to 
the freedmen around Fortress Monroe, claimed the labor of all 
who were able to work, giving them a nominal payment, the 


greater part of which was retained by the quartermasters for 
the use of the women, children, and infirm. The honesty and 
wisdom with which this provision was apportioned depended, 
of course, upon the character of the quartermasters and their 
interest in the people ; and there is do doubt that even when 
the administration was thoroughly just, the supply was entirely 
inadequate to the need. In accordance with the above resolu- 
tion, the American Missionary Association increased the num- 
ber of their colored employees, and, in January, 1862, sent 
down a second reenforcement of missionaries and teachers — 
the reports of the progress of the negroes and their eagerness 
for knowledge continuing remarkably favorable, while the de- 
votion of a few was worthy of a more public acknowledgment 
than it has ever received ; as, for example, Mrs. Peake, who died 
in April, 1862, having literally laid down her life for her people, 
for whom she labored beyond her strength until death lifted 
her self-imposed burden. 

During all these months, the attention of the Northern 
public had been gradually attracted toward the condition of the 
freedmen at various points throughout the South, and, on the 
20th of February, 1862, a great meeting was held in the 
Cooper Institute, New-York, at which many prominent men 
were present, and a committee appointed who organized 
themselves as the " National Freedmen's Relief Association," 
and announced their desire " to work, with the cooperation of 
the Federal Government, for the relief and improvement of the 
freedmen of the colored race ; to teach them civilization and 
Christianity ; to imbue them with notions of order, industry, 
economy, and self-reliance ; and to elevate them in the scale of 
humanity by inspiring them with self-respect." This meeting 
gave incontrovertible evidence of the rapidity with which sym- 


pathy for the freedmen had grown up in the North ; but at the 
same time this sympathy was as yet, necessarily, of a very 
general character, and, indeed, it was not then possible to enter 
into details, for the great fact of the permanent emancipation 
of the slaves was not yet fully established, and innumerable 
difficulties beset those who undertook any systematized effort 
for their relief Complaints had been made in regard to the 
treatment of those at Fortress Monroe, and General Wool had 
appointed a committee to examine into their condition, moral 
and physical, which commission, after a faithful discharge of 
their duty, reported on most points favorably — making, however, 
some suggestions as^ to future action, thfe principal of which 
was the recommendation that the government should appoint 
some responsible civil agent to the charge of the improvement 
of the freedmen. Captain C. B. Wilder, of Boston, was ap- 
pointed superintendent of their affairs, and rendered efficient 
service in their behalf, 

Mr. Lockwood still held his position as missionary to Hamp- 
ton, and in July of this year wrote that the building of small 
tenements was going on rapidly, gardens were being cultivated, 
while a church and school-house were finished and occupied ; 
and one of the officers of the American Missionary Associa- 
tion reported, on his return from a tour of inspection, that the 
general evidences of improvement were most satisfactory. Un- 
doubtedly, the quick and generous reply of the North to the 
demand made upon their beneficence had much to do with the 
safe transition of the blacks from slavery to freedom ; but it must 
be remembered that opinion in the North was still divided, 
and that more was due to the patient, determined spirit of the 
freedmen themselves than to any other cause. A noteworthy 
exhibition of this spirit occurred shortly after the decision of 


the officers of the " Freedmen's Bureau," that no more rations 
were to be issued to the blacks about Fortress Monroe, at a 
time when a large number of them had no visible means of 
support except such as government furnished. The distribu- 
tion of rations ceased abruptly upon a certain day, October 
1st, 1866,* and the expectation of the officers stationed at 
Hampton was that there wauld ensue general and probably 
serious disturbance in the crowded quarters of the colored 
people, who must necessarily feel the deprivation very acutely. 
On the contrary, the report of these officers is, that the order 
was carried out without producing the smallest expression of 
dissatisfaction, and the usual tranquillity was maintained. The 
two thousand freedmen who had been fed by government 
for years, and were living in the depths of poverty, answered 
almost at once the sudden and severe draught upon their 
resources, and proved themselves possessors of unsuspected 

Ignorant as these people were, they knew that they were 
free, and in no way did they mean to trifle with their new- 
found blessing. They had a curiously quick appreciation of 
the fact that freedom meant little to them unless they knew 
how to use it, and they discerned for themselves that their 
primary need was education. After the President's proclama- 
tion, published in October, 1862, the demand for schools steadi- 
ly increased, and as the opportunities for their safe establish- 
ment and support' increased also, there began an amelioration 
of the condition of the freedmen, which promised to be per- 
manent because based on a sure foundation. The physical 
destitution was so great that no charity, however broad, could 

* See Appendix, Note i. 


do more than afford superficial relief, and it soon became evi- 
dent that, on every account, the best help for these people was 
that which soonest taught them to help themselves. Untrained 
as they were, even in respect to the simplest facts of life, 
their education had at the outset to be, of necessity, of the 
most elementary character, and such primary schools as could 
with comparative ease be supplied with, both teachers and 
books amply sufficed, and for the first two or three years 
seemed to the blacks like the gates of heaven. As the num- 
ber of fugitives near Hampton grew from month to month, 
and the prospect was that for many of them the settlement 
there would become a permanent home, these primary schools 
increased in number and capacity, one of them alone receiving 
within three months more than eight hundred scholars, while 
night-schools and Sunday-schools took in many who for vari- 
ous reasons could not attend during the usual day-school 

The Society of Friends at the North had, early in the war, 
shown great interest in the freedinen, had sent several teachers 
to Hampton and the vicinity, and was at this time occupying 
■one of the deserted houses as an Orphan Asylum. These 
teachers worked in hearty cooperation with the teachers of the 
American Missionary Association, and, the little band struggled 
'bravely with the gigantic undertaking, for the work at this 
point, where there were not less than 1600 pupils, was growing 
so rapidly that failure here was especially to be dreaded. 

But no teachers of another race could do for the freed peo- 
ple what was waiting to be done by men and women of their 
own blood. In 1866, the American Missionary Association de- 
termined upon the opening of a normal school, and in January, 
1867, there appeared in the American Missionary Magazine an 


article by General S. C. Armstrong, earnestly and ably setting 
forth the need of normal schools for colored people, wherein 
they could be trained as teachers, and fitted to take up the work 
of civilizing their expectant brethren ; and this article was fol- 
lowed later in the year by reports from various well-qualified 
employees of the American Missionary Association as to the 
feasibility of this scheme. They were unanimous in their ap- 
proval, and strongly urged the necessity of immediate action, 
recommending the establishment of normal or training schools 
as soon as adequate funds could be procured. 

As is evident from the foregoing sketch of the growth of 
the work at Hampton, every thing pointed to that place as 
of primary importance ; for here was collected one of the 
largest settlements of fugitives (the population being of great- 
er relative density than at any other point on the Atlantic 
coast), here was a central and healthy situation, and here was 
protection and a close connection with the sympathies of the 
Northern public. Furthermore — and herein the thought of God 
seems too clear for us to dare to speak of it as " chance" — the 
chief official of the Freedmen's Bureau at Hampton was at this 
time General S. C.Armstrong, late Colonel of the Eighth Regi- 
ment U. S. Colored Troops and Brigadier-General by Brevet, 
whose interest in the blacks was earnest and practical, and 
whose peculiar preparation for the work before him has had so 
much to do with the results of that work, that it can" not be 
passed over unnoticed. 

General Armstrong is the son of the Rev. Richard Arm- 
strong, D.D., who for nearly forty years was missionary to the 
Sandwich Islands. It may be interesting, in connection 
with his son's work in Virginia, to know that Dr. Armstrong 
received his doctorate from Washington College, Lexington, 


Va., with whose President, Rev. Dr. Junkin, he was an inti- 
mate friend at Carlisle College, Pa. 

During sixteen years of his long life as missionary, Dr. Arm- 
strong was Minister of Public Instruction of the Hawaiian 
Kingdom, and in that position largely influenced the policy of 
the government in respect to the school system of the Islands. 
He succeeded in establishing the higher schools upon a manu- 
al-labor basis, and these schools have been and still are remark- 
ably satisfactory, both pecuniarily and in the character and 
efficiency of their graduates. Dr. Armstrong's life as a public 
man was one of incessant labor, and in the sphere of usefulness 
which he may be said to have created, his son was trained until 
his twenty-first year, when, after having served actively in the 
Department of Public Instruction at Honolulu for one year, he 
was sent into the stimulating atmosphere of a New-England 
college, to complete his education, at Williamstown, Mass. 
Graduating from Williams College in the summer of 1862, he 
at once entered the army as captain in a New-York regiment, 
shortly afterward received a commission in the U. S. Colored 
Troops, and as colonel of a colored regiment, gained an expe- 
rience of the negro in a military capacity, v/hich at the close of 
the war was supplemented by a term of service in the Freed- 
men's Bureau, where he became thoroughly familiar with the 
civil needs of the newly-made citizens. 

Trained by this rare combination of events. General Arm- 
strong, placed in a position of power at Hampton, seized at 
once the salient points of the situation, and found himself, from 
very force of habit, in quick sympathy with the people for whom 
he was called upon to act. Thenceforward, the key-note of the 
work of which we write was found in the fact that its chief 
brought from Hawaii to Virginia an idea, worked out by Ame- 


rican brains in the heart of the Pacific, adequate to meet the 
demands of a race similar in its dawn of civilization to the peo- 
ple among whom this idea had first been successfully tested. 

General Armstrong saw that the need of the freedmen, now 
that their escape from slavery had become a certainty, was a 
training which should as swiftly as possible redeem their past 
and fit them for the demands that a near future was to make 
upon them. They needed not only the teaching of books, but 
the far broader teaching of a free and yet disciplined life, and 
the surest way to convince them of their own capacity for the 
duties imposed upon them by freedom was to show them mem- 
bers of their own race trained to self-respect, industry, and real 
practical virtue. Teachers of their own race must be had, 
young men and women, who could go out among them, and, as 
the heads of primary schools, could control and lead the chil- 
dren, while, by the influence of their orderly, intelligent lives, 
they could at the same time substantially affect the moral and 
physical condition of the parents. Normal schools upon the 
broadest plan were the thing required ; and as the American 
Missionary Association, who, by right of their earnest labor, 
were in possession of the field at Hampton, were favorably in- 
clined to such an experiment, General Armstrong resolved, 
with their cooperation and at their request, to devote himself to 
the work of founding a manual-labor school for colored people, 
from which should go forth not only school-teachers, but farm- 
teachers, home-teachers, teachers of practical Christianity, 
bearing with them to their work at least some faint reflection 
of the spirit of Christ himself What could be more natural, 
more beautiful than the growth of such a school within the 
lines of Camp Hamilton, close to the spot sullied by the foot- 
steps of the first slaves, on the very ground where the first 


freedmen's school was opened, and where, when the Monitor 
and the Merrimac met yonder in the blue water of the " Roads," 
a crowd of dusky figures was gathered in piteous, imploring- 
prayer that victory might not be unto the foe, whose success 
meant the old terror, the awful darkness, of human bondage. 

Here then should rise, God willing, the walls of such a build- 
ing as America had never seen, a building whose corner-stone 
should be the freedom of Christianity, and from whose gates 
should go out, year after year, men and women fitted for right- 
eous labor among a people whose past is a blot upon the na- 
tional honor, staining the escutcheons of both North and South, 
and to whom North and South alike owe a debt to be repaid 
only by wise and liberal care for many a day to come. 

So, in the midst of suffering, in the midst of dangers and 
uncertainties, with no sure promise of support, the school 
.began its life, and inaugurated its work in April, 1868, 
being incorporated by the General Assembly of Virginia, 
in June, 1870, as the ^^ Hampton Normal and AgricnltiLfal In- 
stitute" with the following Board of Trustees : President, 
George Whipple, New- York ; Vice-Presidents, R. W. Hughes, 
Abingdon, Va. ; Alexander Hyde, Lee, Mass. ; Secretary, S. 
C. Armstrong, Hampton, Va. ; Plnancial Secretary, Thomas K. 
Fessenden, Farmington, Ct. ; Treasurer, J. F. B. Marshall, Bos- 
ton, Mass.; O. O. Howard, Washington, D. C. ; M. E. Strieby, 
Newark, N. J. ; James A.*Garfield, Hiram, Ohio ; E. P. Smith, 
Washington, D. C. ; John F. Lewis, Port Republic, Va. ; B. G. 
Northrop, New-Haven, Ct. ; Samuel Holmes, Montclair, N. J. ; 
Anthony M. Kimber, Philadelphia, Pa. ; Edgar Ketchum, New- 
York City ; E. M. Cravath, Brooklyn, N. Y. ; H. C. Percy, 
Norfolk, Va. ; who now hold and control the entire property of 
the Institute, and to whose wisdom is due the adoption of the 


carefully 'elaborated system which experience has proved to be 
so successful, • 

Little by little, the building grew ; money and helping hands 
came from the North ; a hundred acres of good farm-land gave 
opportunity for that practical education in agriculture so sadly 
needed throughout the South ; and although the struggle was 
unceasing, the spirit of those on whom the burden fell never 
for a moment flagged, and the work went steadily on. One 
by one, friends were made who pledged themselves that 
" Hampton " should not fail ; and the wisdom and experience of 
more than one co-laborer were placed at General Armstrong's 
disposal. With the hearty generosity characteristic of him, 
General O. O. Howard, both as head of the Freedmen's Bureau 
and as a private individual, gave good help again and again to 
the school which was to do a work after his own heart, and 
from the date of its opening to the present day, he has proved 
an unfailing friend and benefactor.* As the plan of the 
school became more generally understood, students flocked in, 
not from Virginia alone, but from many States of the South, 
and showed an appreciation of the opportunity offered them 
greater than the most hopeful of the laborers among them had 
dared to expect. The corps of teachers was necessarily en- 
larged, and a "Home" furnished for them in one of the 
houses purchased with the farm, while a long line of deserted 
barracks and a second building, formerly used as a grist-mill, 
were taken for girls' dormitories — these, with the necessary 
barns and workshops, all standing in convenient neighborhood 
to each other, close down upon the shore, completing the pres- 
ent list of school-buildings. 

* See Appendix, Note 2. 



teachers' home and girls' quarters. 
The history of the school from the time of its legal organiza- 
tion until to-day is the history of a brave struggle against op- 
posing circumstances, which has been made thus far successful 
by the determined spirit of students and teachers, the steady lib- 
erality of Northern friends, and the generosity of Virginia. In 
recalling the list of those who have fed the growth of the school 
with full and cheerful bounty, it is almost impossible to avoid the 
mention of special names and instances, and yet in any such 
mention it is inevitable that much must be left unsaid and the 
story of many a gracious deed remain untold. There is perhaps 
no feature of the history of Hampton more striking and more 
valuable as a proof of the power of unity of purpose than the 
fact that the school is, as it claims to be, truly unsectarian, 
and that while founded by the American Missionary Associa- 
tion, and therefore strictly orthodox in its origin and evan- 
gelical in its teaching, it ranks among its supporters and 
warm friends, Quakers, Unitarians, societies and men of every 
shade of belief 


The gift which gave Hampton its first impetus came in the 
spring of 1867, when the Hon, Josiali King, one of the execu- 
tors of the "Avery Fund," of Pittsburg, Pa., visited Hamp- 
ton, and decided to expend, through the Association, ;^ 10,000 of 
that legacy in assisting to purchase the " Wood Farm "or " Lit- 
tle Scotland," a tract of land on the east side of the creek, known 
during the war as Camp Hamilton, in which, at one time, as 
many as fifteen thousand sick and wounded Union soldiers have 
been cared for. This property consisted of 125 acres of excel- 
lent land, besides two outlying lots of small value, containing 
40 acres, with some ^12,000 worth of available buildings, and 
the total cost wa« ^19,000, of which the American Missionary 
Association paid ^gooo, thus holding the property until the 
appointment of the Board of Trustees, whose names have al- 
ready been given, to whom the property and control of the 
school were transferred in 1872. ^ 

As a natural result of military occupancy, the farm was at 
this time entirely out of condition, and both buildings and soil 
required an immediate and comparatively large outlay. The 
Freedmen's Bureau made an appropriation of about ;^2O0O to 
aid with the buildings, and just as this was exhausted, and the 
position most critical, Mrs, Stephen Griggs, of New-York, made 
a timely gift of ^6000, increasing it afterward to ^10,000, 
which put the institution on a firm foundation. From time to 
time. General Howard, as chief of the Freedmen's Bureau, 
granted additional funds for building and other purposes, amolint- 
ing to upward of ^50,000, and contributions of from ^50 to 
^5000 dropped in from various sources, increasing as the school 
grew, and furnishing so sure a supply, that, although the trea- 
sury was at times absolutely empty, and the coming of the next 
dollar an entire uncertainty, yet, in obedience to some unknown 


law of supply and demand, the next dollar never failed to come 
and save the school from a bankruptcy which was more than 
once threatened. Thus, when the present Academic Hall had 
been completed, at a cost of ^48,000, and ^44,500 was all that 
the most strenuous efforts had been able to secure, a generous 
lady of Boston canceled the debt. And now again, when the 
recent panic in the money market had caused the income of 
resources for the building of Virginia Hall to cease entirely, two 
Boston friends guaranteed the funds for completing the walls 
and putting on the roof — a gift of about ^10,000. Experiences 
like this can not fail to strengthen our faith that this is God's 
work, and will go on in the future as it has iruthe past. 

In 1872, the school received its first aid from Virginia, which 
was bestowed on it in its character as an agricultural college, and 
acknowledged as follows by the Board of Trustees at a meeting 
held in Hampton, June 12th, 1872 : 

^^ Resolved, i. That the trustees of the Hampton Normal 
and Agricultural Institute accept the trust reposed in them by 
the General Assembly of Virginia, in the act approved March 
19th, 1872, entitled, 'An Act to appropriate the income arising 
from the proceeds of the land scrip accruing to Virginia 
under act of Congress of July 2d, 1862, and the acts amenda- 
tory thereof, on the terms and conditions therein set forth.' 

" Resolved, 2. That, in view of this appropriation, the trus- 
tees hereby stipulate to establish at once a department in 
which thorough instruction shall be given, by carefully selected 
professors, in the following branches, namely, Practical Farming 
and Principles of Farming ; Practical Mechanics and Principles 
of Mechanics; Chemistry, with special reference to Agriculture ; 
Mechanical Drawing and Book-keeping ; Military Tactics. 

" Resolved, 3. That the trustees request leave of the cura- 


tors to invest, at an earlyday, not mo re than one tenth of the 
principal of the land fund assigned to this institution in addi- 
tional lands, to be used for farm purposes, and to expend not 
exceeding five hundred dollars (^500) during the present year 
in purchasing a chemical laboratory. 

" Resolved, 4. That the Principal of this institution be au- 
thorized to receive one hundred students from the free colored 
schools of this State, free of charge, for instruction and use of 
public buildings, to be selected by him, in such manner as may 
be agreed upon between himself and the Board of Education 
of the State of Virginia." 

The appropriation was 100,000 acres of the public land scrip, 
sold in the market for ^95,000, one tenth of which was expend- 
ed for seventy acres of additional land, and the balance invest- 
ed in State bonds bearing six per cent interest. 

This noble gift is worthy of Virginia's advanced position in 
the work of development and progress before the South,* a 
position to which her Superintendent of Public Instruction, Dr. 
Wm. H. RufFner, points with just pride in his last deeply inter- 
esting report to the General Assembly. She is not only at the 
head of all the Southern States in the work of education, by her, 
numerous colleges and universities, by her splendid school sys- 
tems of Richmond and Petersburg, and her general and gene- 
rous provision for common schools throughout the State, but it is 
proven by statistics that " where the white population alone is 
concerned, Virginia has a larger proportion of her sons in superior 
institutions probably than any State or country in the world." 
"What stronger evidence," Dr. Rufifner justly asks, "could be 
presented of the love of Virginia for the higher branches of 
learning than the fact that it can not be quenched or even 

* See Governor Walker's letter, Appendix, Note 5. 


partially suppressed by the pinching poverty which now over- 
spreads the South ?" It is evident that, as he told us last sum- 
mer, at Hampton commencement, "our old State has entered 
honestly and uncomplainingly upon the work of educating her 
people, white and colored, with impartiality, and to the extent 
of her ability, and she intends to keep on with itV 

The curators mentioned in the above resolutions are nine in 
number, five of whom are appointed by the Governor every 
fourth year, and it is provided that three of these five must 
be colored men. The State Board of Education, composed of 
the Governor, Attorney-General, and State Superintendent of 
Education, together with the President of the Virginia Agri- 
cultural Society, are curators ex-officio. 

The full Board consists at present of Gilbert C. Walker,* 
Governor of Virginia, President of the Board of Education ; 
James E. Taylor, Attorney-General ; William H. Rufifner, Su- 
perintendent of Public Instruction ; William H. F. Lee, Presi- 
dent Virginia Agricultural Society. (The above named are 
ex-ofificio members.) 

Appointed for a term of four years : O. M. Dorman, of Nor- 
folk, Va. ; Thomas Tabb, of Hampton, Va. ; William Thorn- 
ton, of Hampton, Va. ; James H. Holmes, of Richmond, Va. ; 
Csesar Perkins, of Buckingham C. H., Va. 

This body of curators meet the trustees annually for the 
transaction of business, the last annual meeting bringing to- 
gether a remarkable group of men of two races and opposing 
sentiment, who united in complete amity for a work of which 
they, one and all, appreciated the importance.! 

* By the last election of November, 1873, General James L. Kemper 
was elected Governor of Virginia, and becomes President, ex-ofiicio, 
of the Board of Curators. t See Appendix, Note 8. 


This spirit of amity, of mutual respect, and good-will which 
has been constantly developing between the school and its 
Southern neighbors in the State and the town has been indeed 
one of the most gratifying and encouraging features in its his- 
tory, and a most essential element in its success. Abundant 
evidence of the existence of such a spirit is found in the fact 
that from many of the best citizens of Hampton, the school has 
received friendly visits and frequent words of encouragement 
and good-will. One of her most eminent citizens is a member 
of the State Board of Curators of the Institute, and as its legal 
adviser, has rendered valuable and gratuitous service. To one 
of her leading clergymen, the school is indebted for interesting 
and instructive lectures, and for words of Christian sympathy 
and friendly counsel. One of her principal physicians has 
offered his services gratuitously to the school. More than one 
merchant of the town has made a liberal discount from his bill 
against it, and one, in doing so, adds these kind words : 

" Please accept this as my humble mite toward the support 
of your admirable institution. Would that my means were 
such as to justify a more liberal discount." 

All these instances of good-will, and others which could be 
named, have come from citizens whose fortunes were cast with 
the South, in the late civil contest, and it is a pleasure to re- 
ceive such proofs of their appreciation of the real aim and 
scope of the work. The distrust and occasional disfavor with 
which the enterprise was first viewed by some of them have 
gradually given place to confidence and good-will as time has 
developed its workings and its influence, and there is now be- 
tween the school and its neighbors generally a mutual feeling 
of pleasure in each other's prosperity. 


The growing prosperity of the town of Hampton, since its 
desolation by the war, is indeed a matter for rejoicing. Ro- 
mantic as has been the tragic history of its past, it is by no 
means interesting merely as a ruin, but, on the contrary, is reco- 
vering itself with a rapidity that is striking and significant. The 
" contraband " tide which overwhelmed it in 1861, in ebbing, 
left a residue behind which makes its population (2500) still 
nearly three quarters negro, but the condition of the freedmen, 
then greatly demoralized, has constantly improved. Five years 
ago, the trustees of the Normal School appropriated a portion 
of its lands for the erection of model cottages, which were sold 
to the freedmen at paying prices. 

The ambition to become land-owners, encouraged in this and 
in other ways, has so increased among them, that, as an intel- 
ligent white citizen of Hampton recently remarked, " not one 
of them is satisfied now till he owns a house and lot, and a cow. 
All the money he can get he saves up to buy them." A strik- 
ing sign of the improvement in the relations of the freedman 
with his white neighbors is the fact that one of the principal 
proprietors of land in Hampton, one of its old residents, has 
recently been selling off his lots successively to white and col- 
ored bidders as they chanced to present themselves. , 

The army of slab huts which once overran the desolated 
streets has retreated to an outpost, which it still holds, but is 
gradually melting away before the advancing forces of civiliza- 

The town itself is steadily rising from its ashes. It has 
some fifty stores, a new and well-kept hotel, while the ancient 
walls of St. John's Church, which have withstood so many of 
the shocks of time, no longer stand in picturesque ruin, but 
gather within them every Sunday many of those who wor- 


shiped there before the war. The little village is in a generally 
thriving condition, and bids fair to reestablish its long-held 
reputation as an attractive seaside resort, as many of the 
friends and guests of the Normal School have already found it a 
pleasant place of retreat from bitter northern storms, with its 
unsurpassed beauty of situation, and its climate, temperate 
in the main (though not entirely free from the terrors of 
the frost), the pleasures of midwinter boating on its land- 
locked waters, its Christmas roses, and its perennial oysters. 
It is the centre of historic ground, and is surrounded by 
places well worth visiting, whose names recall associations 
of thrilling interest : Yorktown, Newport News, Norfolk, 
Big Bethel, are all within a radius of twenty miles. Two 
miles down the creek, at the mouth of Hampton Roads, 
is Fortress Monroe, interesting both in its historic past 
and its present busy life as a military post and artillery 
school, under command of Major-General W. F. Barry. 
Nearer still is another friendly neighbor of the school, the 
Chesapeake Military Asylum, as it is popularly called, the 
Southern branch of the National Home for Disabled Volun- 
teers. The large, commanding edifice occupied before the war 
by one of the principal young ladies' seminaries of Virginia 
now shelters nearly four hundred invalid veterans, under the 
kind and able command of Captain Woodfin, U. S. Volunteers, 
and is a monument of the nation's gratitude, at all times 
worthy of inspection. 

These are some of the attractions of Hampton, but among 
them the school itself surely ranks first, in view of what it has 
done and is doing to solve some of the grave problems left to 
the country by the decisions of the war, the problems of recon- ' 
struction for blacks and whites, of the readjustment of dis- 


turbed social equilibriums, of what to do with the negro, and 
what to do for the South. 

The influence of a live, active power like this institution 
should certainly be felt in the circle immediately surrounding 
it, and may claim some place among the causes of Hampton's 
growth. Not only by adding somewhat to the business of the 
place, but by making itself and its objects respected, by giving 
honor to industry, and working out the visible results of skilled 
labor and practical education, by manifesting a spirit of helpful 
sympathy and honest intent to the community around it, it has 
established a position therein which is cordially acknowledged, 
and deserves such estimate by the thinking men of the South 
as was expressed on the last commencement-day by Rev. Dr. 
Ruffner : 

" It would have been easy to establish a school here that 
would have been hateful to the intelligent people of the State, 
and been mischievous just in proportion to its success. But 
this school is worthy of all praise. Its aim has been honest and 
single. It is just what it seems to be — a purely educational 
institution, giving satisfaction to all and offense to none." 

Such, up to this time, has been the history of the " Hampton 
Normal and Agricultural Institute," and the noteworthy fact 
stands out, we trust, clearly enough that the school is digrowtk ; 
no unfinished, one-sided, unstable creation of an individual 
whim, but a natural, healthy growth. It has not been forced 
upon the people ; it is not a makeshift until something better 
can be had ; it has not been endowed by any one person, to be 
at the mercy of a changing humor ; but, on the contrary, it has 
met a people's imperative demand, and having met that demand 
honestly, it bears within itself the reason for its permanent 
continuance and increase, while the fact that its acres have been 


bought and its bricks laid with money from a thousand different 
sources has rooted its claims in a multitude of hearts, and 
made its future very hopeful. 

The system adopted in the first instance by the officers and 
trustees has been, with some modifications, continued, and has 
certain peculiarities which entitle it to such a description as 
can best be given from the personal observation of one who, as 
a teacher, has obtained a familiar knowledge of its working and 
its results. The following pages are therefore devoted .to an 
account of the actual condition of the school, giving, also, 
something of the experience of the troupe of colored singers 
known as the " Hampton Students," who were sent out in the 
winter of '72-3, in the hope that the appeal of their music and 
their faces might enable the Hampton treasury to meet the 
calls made upon it by the rapidly increasing student-roll. The 
endeavor has been, in presenting this brief history to the 
public, to create, if possible, an intelligent and lasting interest 
in the future of Hampton, and to show that, while its work was 
at the outset necessarily experimental, the school has already 
become theoretically and practically a success, needing only a 
reasonable increase of means in order to take its place as one 
of the most important institutions of the South. 



By M. F. a. 

It is evident that the only test of any system of education 
which can be of value is the test of practical application, and 
when the founders of the Hampton Normal and Agricultural 
Institute were called upon to decide as to the general character 
of the school they were about to establish, they were keenly 
alive to the importance of making use of all possible means to 
insure the success of their unique undertaking, an undertaking 
which was at that time so far without precedent as to be to 
many minds simply chimerical. 

First of all, therefore, they consulted the needs of those who 
were destined to become the pupils of the school, and then took 
careful account of the experience of various experimentalists, 
a course which resulted in the adoption of a "Manual Labor 
System," which, by right of the originality of certain of its 
features, may fairly be known as the " Hampton System." This 
system, as it stands, is remarkable ; because, while it has 
drawn largely from different sources in our own and other 
countries, its application to a people scarcely emerged from 
slavery made requisite certain peculiarities which are particu- 
larly worthy of notice as being a direct result of an unparalleled 
social revolution. 

The slaves, whose emancipation made such a school as 
Hampton possible, found, as the inevitable effect of their 
enslavement, their chief misfortune in deficiency of character 


rather than in ignorance. They were improvident, without 
seljE^rehance, and immoral. On the other hand, they possessed 
the virtues of patience and cheerfuhiess, a hearty desire for 
improvement, especially in book knowledge, while in many 
cases there existed a religious fervor often amounting to a form 
of superstition, so vivid was, and still is, their belief in all con- 
ditions of the supernatural, from God to Satan. Four millions 
of these slaves were set free with absolutely no preparation for 
a state of which the novelty alone was sufficient to blind or 
dazzle their unused faculties, and with scarcely more than 
nominal restraint or assistance, were left to shift for themselves 
in the midst of the ruins of the only social law of which they 
had any experience. 

It can hardly be necessary to allude in other than the 
briefest terms to the condition of the Southern States directly 
after the war ; and, indeed, there are only two facts which require 
just here to be dwelt upon — namely, first, that the slaveholders 
bereft of their slaves were almost as helpless as the slaves, so 
far as concerned the retrieval of their fortunes ; for not only 
had six generations of slave-owning in a marked manner en- 
feebled the power of a majority of the dominant race, but the 
annihilation of property in men left the South in almost universal 
bankruptcy ; second, that enforced labor being no longer to be 
had, the future of the South depended upon the speedy creation 
of a class of skilled and willing laborers, and that such laborers 
were to be found mainly in the vast army of unemployed freed 
men and women. 

No one for whom the question had any interest could fail to 
see that the best hope of both whites and blacks lay in a wise 
training of both races for the work that was waiting for them, 
and the establishment in the South of schools that should afford 


such training. General Armstrong, stationed as an officer of 
the Freedmen's Bureau at Hampton, where the work had been 
already so well begun by the American Missionary Association, 
saw the importance of locating one of these schools at that 
point, central as it was to the great negro population of Virginia^ 
North-Carolina, and Maryland, a population numbering more 
• than a million. The seed sown years ago in far-off Pacific 
islands sprang now into quick fruitage, for a youth passed 
among a people similar in many respects to the Anglo-African, 
gave him a peculiar power to grasp the problem of the suc- 
cessful establishment of a normal school for freedmen. The 
intelligent and liberal support of the American Missionary 
Association and the Freedman's Bureau enabled him, when 
appointed Principal of the Hampton Institute, to adopt a 
manual-labor system, his opinion being that such a system, 
carefully prepared, would best meet the exigencies of the case. 
He had seen the successful working of such schools among the 
semi-civilized natives of the Sandwich Islands, and his own 
views were strengthened by the testimony of some of the oldest 
of the pioneer missionaries, one of whom, the Rev. Dwight 
Baldwin, D.D., in writing to Hampton, gives briefly the result 
of their experiments among the Hawaiian people. He says, 
"The Lahainaluna school has been a great light in the midst 
of the Hawaiian Islands. For the whole forty years that it has 
been in operation, it has been a mighty power to aid us in 
enlightening and Christianizing the Hawaiian race. Without 
this seminary, how could we have furnished any thing like 
efficient teachers for a universal system of common schools, a 
system which has already made almost the entire people of 
these islands readers of the Bible .-' Then, also, of all the native 
preachers and pastors who have been enlisted in this good 


work, it has been very rare to find one particularly useful who 
has not been previously trained in this seminary. And through- 
out the islands, except just about the capital, where foreigners 
are employed, the execution of the laws depends entirely upon 
educated Hawaiians. It has always been a manual-labor 
school. This arose partly from necessity ; but a second reason 
was that all our plans for elevating this people were laid from 
the beginning to give them not only learning, but also intel- 
ligent appreciation of their duties as men and citizens, and co 
prepare them in every way for a higher civilization. The plan 
pursued here in this respect is the same, I believe, essentially, 
as you have pursued at the Hampton Institute. It is the plan 
dictated by nature and reason, and if you pursue it thoroughly 
and wisely, it will make your Institute a speedy blessing to all 
the freedmen of the South." 

From such witnesses as these, and from the carefully reported 
experience of schools in Germany, France, and Great Britain, 
all possible facts were obtained, and Hampton, in 1868, was 
inaugurated as a manual-labor school. To the completeness 
with which it has fulfilled its original design, many witnesses 
have borne testimony, and that one given by the Rev. George 
L. Chaney, of Boston, in January, 1870, is especially interesting 
from its impartiality : 

" This school, open alike to men and women of every race, 
but only attended now by freedmen, sets the rule of educa- 
tion to the whole nation. The State which is kept standing 
on the threshold of our Union carries in her hands the ideal 
school. The Northern men and women who went South to 
teach have learned more than they • have taught. Driven by 
the necessity of their impoverished pupils, they have learned to 
combine an education of the hand with the education of the 


mind. It is already written in the proof-sheets of the new 
history, that Massachusetts learned from Virginia how to keep 

At the very outset, the trustees were wise enough to reject 
the theory that the manual labor performed by students must 
necessarily be made profitable, but based their efforts upon the 
fact that their system had for its primary object the education 
of the pupils. They devoted themselves to obtaining for the 
scholars such advantages as the nature of their past lives made 
specially desirable ; and, realizing distinctly that true manhood 
is the ultimate end of education, of experience, and of life, they 
e:rounded their work on the conviction that the best and most 
practical training is that of the faculties which should guide and 
direct all the others. They appreciated also the comparative 
uselessness of educating the men of any race when their 
mothers and sisters are left untrained, and resolved that the 
Hampton system should include both sexes under the most 
favorable possible circumstances. 

The school opened in April, 1868, with twenty (20) scholars 
and two (2) academic teachers, while for the term beginning- 
September, 1873, the catalogue shows us a roll of twelve (12) 
teachers in the academic department, six (6) teachers in the 
industrial departments, and two hundred and twenty-six (226) 
pupils. These figures in themselves represent success, and 
the reports of the various departments furnish still further 
proof that the division of labor and study has been satisfactory 
to teachers and scholars, while the pecuniary result is altogether 
better than was originally expected. At the opening of the 
present term, the system may be considered as matured, and 
the division of the school into academic and industrial depart- 
ments, each with its separate corps of teachers, under the 




control of one principal, has been found to afford the required 

The farm of one hundred and ninety (190) acres, which 
includes seventy-two (72) acres of the " Segar Farm," recently 
purchased with the avails of the Land Scrip Fund, is managed 
by an experienced farmer; and for the purpose of interfering as 
little as possible with recitations, the students are divided 
into five squads, which are successively assigned one day in 
each week for labor on the farm. All the boys also work a 
half or the whole of every Saturday, during the term. Each 
student has therefore, each week, from a day and a half to two 
days of labor on the farm, for which he is allowed from five to 
ten cents an hour, or from seventy-five cents to two dollars a 
week, according to his ability. 

From two to four hired men are steadily employed to take 
care of teams, drive market-wagon, etc. ; but the greater part 
of the farm-work is done by the young men of the school. 
Market-gardening is carried on extensively, hundreds of dollars' 
worth of asparagus, cabbages, white and sweet potatoes, peas. 



and peaches being annually sold at Fortress Monroe, or shipped 
to the markets of Baltimore, Philadelphia, New-York, and 
Boston. Between twenty and thirty gallons of milk are daily 
supplied to the boarding department of the school or sold in the 
neighborhood, at an average price of thirty cents per gallon. 


The introduction of blooded stock, a French Canadian stallion, 
Ayrshire cattle, Chester pigs, etc., is directly benefiting the 
farmers of the surrounding country, the appreciation of the 
value of these importations being shown by the fact that at the 
Virginia and North-Carolina State Agricultural Fair held in 
Norfolk, in the autumn of 1872, three first prizes were taken by 
normal-school stock. 

The division of the one hundred and forty-six (146) acres 
under cultivation during the past year is as follows : 

Corn 55 acres. 

Wheat 35 

Barley 4 " 

Corn-fodder 6 

Peas 4 " 



Early potatoes 7 acres. 

Sweet potatoes 4 

Asparagus 3i- 

Cabbages .- i 

Turnips, carrots, etc 3 

Snap beans 2 

Oats sowed with clover 8, 

Garden vegetables 2* 

Broom-corn \ 

Strawberries h 

Peach orchard (8qo trees) 6 

Pear orchard and nursery 2 

Cherry and plum orchard 2 

Apple orchard 4 


The printing-office connected with the school was founded 
by the gift of one thousand dollars from Mrs. Augustus Hem- 
en way, of Boston, and was opened for business November 


ist, 1 87 1, beginning witli two small presses, a second-hand 
Washington hand-press, and a quarter-medium Gordon press, 
to which was added last winter, by the liberality of Messrs. 
Richard Hoe & Co., of New-York, a first-class hand stop 
cylinder press, a gift of very great value to the school. 
About the same time, a donation of nearly three hundred 
dollars' worth of new type was made by Messrs. Farmer, Little 
& Co., New- York. These generous gifts have greatly in- 
creased the working facilities of the office, which is the only 
one in Hampton. By the job-work which it is thus able to 
take in, it is established upon a paying basis, as well as enabled 
to offer greater advantages of work to the students. The boys 
employed in the office are selected as showing particular apti- 
tude for the business, and the majority of them make rapid 
progress — one indeed having been able during the past year to 
pay his way in school by work done out of school hours. 

The first cost of the office and its furniture was paid by 
friends in the North, and the neighborhood affords a fai^ regu- 
lar supply of job-work, while an illustrated paper. The Scmtherii 
Workman, is published monthly, for circulation among the in- 
dustrial classes of the South, among whom it has met with 
a very favorable reception.* 

In addition to their training on the farm and in the printing- 
office, the male students are employed in the carpenter and 
blacksmith-shops, shoe-shop and paint-shop, where most of 
the ordinary repairs and light work of the establishment are 
done. These different departments of manual labor furnish 
such variety of instruction as admirably prepares the students 
for the uncertainty of their future lives, and enables them at the 

* See Note 3 in Appendix. 



end of the three years' course to choose between several occu- 
pations, in any one of which they can serve with honor and 
profit to themselves. 



The young women of the school are also provided with an 
Industrial Department (founded by a Northern lady), where 
they are taught to cut and fit garments, and to use various 
sewing-machines, the articles which they produce being sold to 
members of the school or to persons in the neighborhood ; and 
the report of the founder of this department is, that " the young 
women employed are in most cases faithful and industrious, 
eager and grateful for the opportunity of earning something 
toward their expenses, while their spirit and conduct in con- 
nection with the department have, except in a few cases, been 
good in all respects." In addition to the special work of this 


department, the girls are taught the ordinary duties of a house- 
hold, laundry-work, etc., and are thus fitted to become cleanly 
and thrifty housekeepers, while their personal habits are care- 
fully superintended, and they are constantly instructed in the 
simpler laws of health. 

The labor performed by the students during the last two 
years and its results are so essential a part of the school's 
history, that the following extract from the Treasurer's report 
is given, as embodying statistics of real value: 

SESSION OF 1871-2. 
Students on labor list 95 


On farm $1,360 or 

Boarding Department (house-work) 1,087 35 

Girls' Industrial Department (sewing, etc.) 625 03 

School-work (accountants, janitors, carpenters, etc.) 826 01 

Shoemakers 74 95 

Printing-office 280 62 

Total $4,253 97 

SESSION OF 1872-3. 

Students on labor list 170 


On farm $1,873 93 

Boarding Department (house-work) 1,408 90 

Girls' Industrial Department (sewing) 701 08 

Printing-office 239 91 

School-work (accountants, janitors, carpenters, etc.) 1,018 62 

Shoemakers 8637 

Work on buildings 53 26 

Total $5,382 07 

The rates of credit for labor are adjusted according to its 
market value, and the training which the students receive in the 


thorough examination and understanding of their accounts, 
which are made out in detail monthly by the Treasurer, is of 
permanent and incalculable benefit to them. 

One of the fundamental principles of the school is that no- 
thing should be given which can be earned or in any way sup- 
plied by the pupil, and in consonance with this principle, regular 
personal expenses for board, etc., rated at $\o a month, are 
thrown upon each student, to be paid by them, half in cash and 
half in labor. Good mechanics, first-rate farm-hands and seam- 
stresses can earn the whole of this amount, but those pupils 
whose labor is of little value, and who are destitute, being 
either orphaned or with impoverished parents, require and re- 
ceive proper aid, nearly one third of the boarders having been 
assisted by direct donations during the past term. To this pur- 
pose are devoted the annual income from the " Peabody Fund " 
of ^800, and such part of the cash receipts of the school as 
may be found necessary ; personal relief being made systema- 
tically exceptional and closely contingent upon high merit. 

Among the most prominent dispensers of such aid are Mr. 
and Mrs. George Dixon, of the English Society of Friends, and 
during six years teachers among the freedmen in the South, at 
their own charges. They are now giving personal aid to forty- 
five of their former pupils as members of this institution. To 
this end, they have secured funds by personal effort in Eng- 
land. Mr. Dixon was for twenty-five years head of the Agri- 
cultural College at Great Ay ton, Yorkshire, England, and now, 
as a resident on the Normal School premises, and lecturer on 
Agricultural Chemistry, adds very materially to the resources 
of the faculty. 

While every thing is thus done to cultivate a spirit of self- 
reliance and independence, it has been proved, as a matter of 


fact, that beyond this payment of actual personal expenses, the 
colored youth of the South are not 'able to go. These young 
men and women at Hampton strain every nerve to meet the 
daily cost of their food and clothing, and it is beyond a doubt 
that if they are to get any education at all, such education must 
he given to them. Instruction, therefore, is the central point 
of our work, and entails the chief outlay, to meet which, the 
actual cost of educating each individual, estimated at ^70 per 
annum, has to be secured by voluntary contributions. In 
order, therefore, to keep up that practical, personal interest in 
the school which, so long as it depends upon private charity, is 
of the first importance, a system of scholarships has been in- 
stituted and found to be most successful. 

These scholarships are divided as follows : Annual scholar- 
ships of ^70, scholarships for the course of three years of ^210, 
and permanent scholarships of ^1000, the interest of which is 
forever devoted to the education of a pupil. Last year, 152 
annual (or ^70) scholarships were contributed, many of the 
donors of which have signified their intention to renew them, 
thus meeting the heaviest present expense of the school ; but 
the desire of the trustees is to establish, as rapidly as possible, 
permanent (or ^1000) scholarships, and a number of professor- 
ships, of from ^10,000 to ^25,000 each, which will save the time 
and cost of annual collections, and insure the future of the 

The Rev. Thomas K. Fessenden, of Farmington, Ct, over 
two years ago undertook the work of securing an endowment. 
His efforts have been successful beyond expectation (see 
note in Treasurer's report in Appendix) ; and in this connection, 
it is not out of place to mention that Mr. Fessenden is the 
founder of the Girls' Industrial School at Middletown, one of 


the noblest charities in Connecticut. As a member of the 
Legislature of that State, his influence secured the passage of 
a. satisfactory law in behalf of that school, and his personal so- 
licitations resulted in an endowment of nearly ^100,000 for it. 

The wholesome and pleasant relation which grows up ■ be- 
tween the givers of our scholarships and their recipients, does 
in no way abate the self-respect of the latter, and entails no loss 
of stimulus to hard work ; for, in the words of the Principal of 
the school, " it is helping those who help themselves, and, as 
results show, is productive of sound scholarship and Christian 
manliness." Each student who is thus assisted is, expected, in 
the first instance, to write a letter of acknowledgment to the 
unknown friend whose interest is so substantially shown, and 
the donor not seldom finds an unexpected source of happiness 
in the quaint expressions of gratitude which reach him in the 
name of some dark-faced boy or girl hungry for books and their 
mysterious contents. 

The three classes of the school — Seniors, Middlers, and Ju- 
niors — are carefully divided according to the ability of their 
members, and the standard of scholarship is unvarying, no in- 
dividual being retained unless there is shown both desire and 
power to keep up with the class studies, although so much 
hearty assistance is given by the teachers, both in and out of 
school hours, that only the hopelessly stupid or careless need 
fear expulsion. The teacher who in her turn takes charge of 
the boys' or girls' evening study hour finds her office no sine- 
cure, as she moves among the desks, stopping here and there 
to answer the impatient appeal of lifted hands with the few 
words of advice or encouragement that shall make the crooked 
ways straight through the intricacies of algebra, or the laby- 
rinth of moods and tenses. 




As to the ability of these colored students in comparison 
with whites, the verdict of the teachers is unanimous ; the ave- 
rage in the Hampton classes, they agree, differs little from the 
average in any ordinary Northern school, while the marked eager- 
ness to learn compensates, to a great extent, for the entire lack of 
culture in past generations and of home-training in the present. 
To meet this want, which is one of the most serious hindrances 


in the colored student's road to learning, efiforts are made to 
give them as much general information as possible outside of 
the regular line of school study, by familiar lectures upon topics 
of common interest. These are always listened to with eager 
interest, especially when made graphic by personal experience, 
or enlivened by blackboard illustrations. A daily bulletin of 
news made up from the leading journals, and published on a 
large blackboard in the main hall, is found another great help 
in rousing these wakening minds to a sense of what is going 
on in the world around them, 

I have never seen, I can scarcely imagine a more hopeful 
picture than is offered by some of the more advanced students 
of our school, for there is a quick gratitude for every word of 
explanation which helps them on their difficult path, to which 
no heart can fail to respond, while the absolute famine for 
knowledge which distinguishes them from ordinary students 
finds its answer in the brain of every true teacher. No one 
can live among these people, much less can attempt to open for 
them the way into the wondrous kingdoms of Nature and Art, 
without gaining in return new views of the possibilities of 
humanity, and strong faith that the future of this long-enduring 
race will yet redeem its past. 

Without fanaticism, and without special prejudice in favor of 
the negroes, the teachers at Hampton, going down from North- 
ern schools and Northern homes, are fair witnesses as to the 
capacities and characters of their pupils, and I am only their 
representative in saying that to educate these ex-slaves pays in 
every sense. 

The ex-slaveholders in Virginia, and generally in the other 
Southern States, comprehend the necessity of negro education, 
and are willing, not only to put no obstacles in the way of schools 


already established, but to assist them wherever possible, as in 
Virginia, where one third of the land scrip of the State was last 
year voted to Hampton, and where the head of the Depart- 
ment of Education,, Rev. W. H. Ruffner, D.D.,* has been one 
of Hampton's best friends, showing an earnest desire to second 
the action of the school officials with the prestige which his 
position gives. The better class of Southerners appreciate, of 
course, that the economic value of an educated negro is far 
ofreater than that of an uneducated one, and their desire to 
develop the resources of their country would alone lead them to 
see that on this point the interests of .the white and the colored 
population coincide ; but aside from this, there is a growing 
sense of the justice of including the negro in any future scheme 
of popular education, which will prove a valuable auxiliary to 
the conviction of the expediency of such a course. As a result 
of this, the State governments are gradually assuming the 
charge of the elementary instruction of the colored people, 
but the feeling against "mixed schools is still so strong that they 
are shut out from all Southern collegiate institutions, and con- 
sequently are able to get no professional training except in 
schools established, like Hampton, especially for them. 

As has been before noticed, the experience of the most suc- 
cessful missionaries, all the world over, as well as that of the 
leading practical educators of the South, induces them to prefer 
always trained teachers of the same race as those whom they 
are destined to teach, and already the demand for colored teach- 
ers in Virginia alone could not be supplied by all the Southern 
States together. To-day, thousands of colored children in Vir- 
ginia and the Carolinas are without elementary schools, not 
from any unwillingness on the part of the State governments 

^ ' * See Appendix, Note 4. 


to supply them, not because salaries and school-houses are 
wanting, but solely because there are no teachers ; and it would 
hardly be possible to- find more speedy means for facilitating 
popular education in the South than the establishment of in- 
stitutions devoted primarily to the training of colored teachers. 
Hampton is doing just this work, for nine tenths of the gradu- 
ates she sends out become at once teachers of colored schools, 
and testimony to the thoroughness of the training they have 
received pours in upon us from Virginia school-ofHcers — all of 
them ex-slaveholders and ex-officers of the Confederate army — 
who, without exception, report more than favorably as to the 
ability and conduct of the teachers supplied by Hampton.* 

In the growth of such an institution as this, in the midst of 
so disturbed a society as still exists in the South, there must 
arise, now and again (in spite of the determined efforts of its 
officers to prevent political complications), questions involving 
the rights and duties of the colored people as citizens and 
responsible political agents, and the chief danger of the race lies 
only too evidently in the plasticity and ignorance which put 
them completely under the control of any superficial or un- 
principled men whose ambition may point in the direction of 
party leadership. This blind leading of the blind is already 
producing its result in the spread of the belief that political 
rights are better to be obtained by self-assertion and selfish 
struggle than by studying to acquire such fitness for power, 
that power can not be withheld, and this false doctrine can 
only be counteracted by the introduction of intelligent poHtical 
opinion among the more advanced class of colored people. 
Nowhere can sucti opinions be more quickly and widely dis- 
seminated than from a school which strives to be a centre of 
* See Appendix, Note 5. 




moral as well as intellectual light ; and while at Hampton there 
is constant endeavor to inculcate an honest appreciation of the 
importance of political duties, the young men who graduate 
from there are earnestly encouraged to value principle far above 
individual aggrandizement. There can be no doubt that the 
white leaders of both parties in the South have made shameful 
use of the ignorance of their negro fellow-citizens, and the only 
weapons with which such duplicity and dishonor can be suc- 
cessfully fought are those which education furnishes. Any 
institution having such work before it must, from the outset, be 
independent of State control, and while State aid under certain 
restrictions should be a matter of course, yet the school system 
should be entirely untrammeled by the chains of this or that 


political party. In this respect, Hampton is most fortunately 
free, having steered between Scylla and Charybdis to take 
finally an independent stand which commands respect from all 

The service which Hampton, in a political aspect, is doing 
for the State is rapidly obtaining the acknowledgment it 
merits ; for to withstand dangers arising from ignorant com- 
bination is just now (in the absence of social criticism and 
intelligent public opinion) one of the problems most urgently 
pressing on Southern society, and those most interested recog- 
nize already that no effective legislation can be looked for in the 
face of the dense ignorance existing among the poorer classes 
of the South, especially when such ignorance is manipulated 
by adroit and conscienceless leaders. No radical change in the 
political condition can be expected except as the mass of the 
people are gradually led up to a higher plane of thought ; and 
the speediest means of effecting this advancement is found in 
■.schools whose students, going out in their turn as teachers, 
influence the life of a whole neighborhood, and being of one 
blood with those among whom they labor, know their needs, 
and can rouse and purify them by the force of personal exam- 
ple. The value of the Hampton school in this respect is neither 
imaginary nor sentimental, but altogether practical and suscep- 
tible of direct proof, and the acknowledgment of this comes 
to us constantly from the most satisfactory source, namely, from 
educated Southern men themselves, who watch the progress of 
our educational experiment with exceeding interest, and often 
are ready with kindly words of appreciation, which in their 
mouths are full of meaning. Undoubtedly, the natural, though 
rapid development of the plan of the Hampton trustees has 
had much to do with its acceptance by Southerners of every 


shade of political sentiment, for its growth from very humble 
beginnings has been so completely in accordance with the law 
of demand and supply, that the most determined prejudices 
have faded away before its steady progress ; and to-day those 
Southerners who know any thing of its work give it the fore- 
most rank among the educational institutions south of Wash- 

As an economic experiment, the manual-labor system, as 
applied at Hampton, is an undoubted success* — that is, the 
expenses of the school are reduced to a minimum, while the 
students, not overburdened with physical labor, come to their 
books with fresh interest and untired faculties, and not only 
lose none of the advantages of their three years' intellectual 
culture, but, on the other hand, gain much by the varied train- 
ing in the practical duties of life, which opens to them new 
fields of labor, and offers fresh stimulants to honest ambition. 
It is no more than true to say, that in this respect Hampton has 
exceeded the hopes of its founders, having demonstrated that 
the properly systematized manual labor of both male and 
female students can, in this country, be made a sure source of 
revenue to the school, without in any degree lessening the 
ability of such students to receive intellectual culture. 

But while Hampton has a wide sphere of usefulness in its 
relation to the State, and as an educational experiment upon 
the largest scale is of interest to all lovers of humanity, it is as 
a noble and beautiful charity that it makes its highest claim upon 
us ; and in this view, it is difficult to speak of it in terms that 
will not seem to be the result of an exaggerated sympathy. At 
the risk of such accusation, a close acquaintance with the daily 
life of the school and a personal intimacy with its teachers and 

* See Appendix, Note 6. 


students induce me to offer what I believe to be the experience 
not of one teacher only, but of the whole working corps of the 
school, in regard to the efficiency of the academic department 
and the general characteristics of its pupils. During the term 
of 1873-4, the number of students enrolled was 226, who for the 
academic course were divided among twelve teachers, most of 
them trained graduates of the best Northern schools. The 
plan of the school subdivides these three classes into smaller 
sections of from twenty to fifty scholars, according to the 
nature of the study,* and these are passed from one recitation to 
another during Ijie school hours, which are from nine till three, 
with proper intervals for dinner and recess. The training 
which they receive is, I believe, more thorough than that given 
in most schools, because, by reason of the ignorance of the stu- 
dents on all general as well as special subjects, it is necessary 
to begin at the foundation and to reiterate instruction until 
permanent impressions are produced, while, the number of 
studies being limited, the teachers are able to do justice to 
the branches which they undertake. 

There are doubtless schools for colored people in the South 
whose list of studies is much longer and more pretentious than 
that of Hampton, but as the point to be considered is not so 
much what the negro at high pressure is capable of learning, 
as what for his own present good he most needs to learn, a 
course which includes merely the ordinary English branches, 
while surrounding the student with influences calculated to 
mould his character and elevate his whole nature, is far more 
desira.ble than one which promises to turn out graduates pro- 
ficient in a dead language or facile in oratory. 

More important than quickness' in thought or correctness in- 

* See Appendix, Note 7. 


speech, are the fundamental habits of a life, and this fact holds its 
proper place in our students' training. Every day, the young 
men are drilled, without arms, in various evolutions, to acquire 
promptness in obedience and in action, and a good carriage. 
They are closely inspected from head to foot every day, and 
want of neatness in attire is a matter for discipline. Quarters 
also are subject to daily inspection, and penalties are sure for 
any want of order. Standing in the school depends quite as much 
upon faithfulness in labor as upon proficiency in study. Rank 
is determined, as nearly as possible, by character and real value, 
and not by recitation-marks. 

The programme of work at Hampton is simple enough at 
first sight, but it must be remembered that the minds for which 
it is laid down are absolutely fresh and untutored, while only 
too curious in the pursuit of knowledge. 

There are scholars and scholars, and it is impossible to de- 
scribe the difference between a class in Hampton and a class 
of the same relative age and intelligence in a Northern school. 
It would be good indeed if I could put down upon paper the 
enthusiasm, the quick answers of tongue and eye, the honest 
perseverance, the wild guessing, the half-incredulous astonish- 
ment with which some bit of history, some scientific experi- 
* ment, or mayhap some ringing poem or well-demonstrated pro- 
blem, is' received by a group of dusky scholars, as they stand 
gathered about the teacher, who for them is an oracle, a hea- 
ven-sent messenger. Such eagerness and earnestness of pur- 
pose make study what it should be, a delight to teacher and 
pupil, and fatigue and dullness are unknown conditions in the 
midst of* scholars to whom the smallest fact is a treasure, and 
in whom every day shows change and growth, 

I can scarcely ask those who are strangers to such work to 


believe how rapidly these young men and women develop un- 
der the novel influences brought to bear upon them by teachers 
thoroughly interested in their progress, nor how quickly they 
grasp all that marks their inferiority to the Anglo-Saxons with 
whom they are associating. When placed in contact with 
cultivated white teachers, our colored students are not long in 
realizing how great is the height which they must scale in order 
to win a true equality, and their appreciation of the value of edu- 
cation and opportunity is so keen as to seem at times almost 
superstitious. Yet this rarely discourages them, and their cha- 
racteristic as students is a determination to sacrifice much, and 
labor to their utmost for the education which to them is the 
password to the good things of this world. They are by no 
means slow in the acquirement of knowledge; indeed, when one 
considers through how many generations the intellectual facul- 
ties of the race have lain dormant, it is astonishing that the 
mental peculiarities and weaknesses of this first generation of 
freedmen are not more marked and difficult to overcome than 
they are practically found to be. 

Our students learn with average readiness, and show more 
than average perseverance, but find their chief obstacle in an 
inability to assimilate the ideas which they receive, an obstacle 
largely to be accounted for by the fact that they have had little 
previous education, and as children formed no fixed habits of 
thought. The formulation of ideas and their expression in words 
are invariably difficult for them, and at times it is fairly pitiful to 
watch their efforts to catch and crystallize into language a 
thought which they feel to be slipping from them back into the 
realms of mystery whence it came. But, in the main, our ver- 
dict as teachers is that they are already good students, and bid 
fair to become better, while the difference in the youth who 



entei-s Hampton and the youth who leaves it at the end of a three 
years' course is so great as to be the only personal argument 
required among those who know the school in favor of every 
possible increase of its power and facilities. 

Last year, we had the sorrow of turning away from our doors 
many an applicant whose only hope lay with us, because our 
buildings were already more than full ; and all through the chill 


Virginian winter, our boys, in squads of twenty-four to thir- 
ty at a time, are lodged in tents whose canvas walls are frail 
protection against the stormy winds which sometimes visit 
that open sea-coast. I have looked from my window, on many 
a frosty night, at those icicle-fringed tents, and through many a 
wild morning have watched the heavy Southern rain beating 


upon their gray roofs, wishing in my heart that those in North 
or South who tell us that " negro " is but a synonym for lazi- 
ness and cowardice could see for themselves the testimony 
borne by that little settlement of tents standing unsheltered 
within a stone's throw of the sea. There is as much down- 
right pluck under these black skins as under any white ones, 
and the admirable courage and ambition of the freed people 
deserve substantial recognition and encouragement ; for, how- 
ever heavy is the tax laid upon them, they have shown them- 
selves ready to meet it, for the sake of the much-coveted prize 
of education. 

We who, in God's providence, were appointed to bring to 
these children of His their wearily-looked-for freedom, are 
to-day, ill His sight, responsible in great part for the use they 
make of it ; and to have broken their chains only to leave them 
in an ignorance worse than slavery would truly be a deed 
unworthy of our country and our Christianity. We have set 
them free, and now we have before us the plain duty of teaching 
them to use their freedom, and to that end there seems little 
doubt such schools as Hampton are the swiftest means. In- 
deed, there is no other way than this ; and Hampton, already 
securely founded, has every claim upon the attention and gene- 
rosity of the public, to whom we appeal, in the name of a 
benighted race, for the speedy aid which shall lift from the 
colored people of the South the burden of past misfortune, and 
save their white brothers from years of struggle and social 

We want more room, we want money to put up new 
buildings which shall receive and welcome the crowd of waiting 
students for whom with our present means we can do nothing, 
and the bulk of this money must come from the North, for the 


South is no longer able even to support those institutions that 
are dearest to its national, honor, and the State has for the 
present done its utmost for Hampton. 

In asking for an endowment for our school, we draw atten- 
tion especially to the fact that in these days the centralization 
of resources for advanced education is all-important. " Scatter 
your resources for primary education ; concentrate your resour- 
ces for advanced education," has become an axiom ; and one 
such institution as Hampton, fully endowed and thoroughly 
furnished with the machinery of education, can do ten times 
the work of two or three institutions indifferently equipped 
and constantly struggling for existence. In this country, where 
the population is spread over so wide an area, these educational 
foci, to which the youth of the land are drawn by the attraction 
of advantages to be obtained nowhere else, are far more econo- 
mical of public resources than any system of scattered colleges, 
which only impoverish each other and the State, while the ex- 
perience of nations older than our own demonstrates the great 
increase of intellectual power to be obtained by the plan of 
concentration. Hampton's field practically embraces the 
States of Virginia and North-Carolina, including a colored popu- 
lation of nearly a million souls, while it has always on its stu- 
dent-roll, representatives from several other States. 

Atlanta University, Atlanta, Ga., Fisk University, at Nash- 
ville, Tenn., and Howard University, at Washington, D. C, 
all have similar relation to the two or three States around 
them, and the radius of their influence has, in each case, a sweep 
of hundreds of miles, though, as a matter of course, there is no 
practical interference. There are many minor and very merito- 
rious institutions devoted to the freedmen, chiefly denomina- 
tional, but competition for students is not likely to arise in this 



generation, and there is noticeably more tendency to concen- 
tration in the South than in the North. 

Hampton, a school which sprang into hfe in answer to the 
cry of a people hungry for knowledge, needs, in round numbers, 
an endowment of ^300,000, besides its building fund, to make 
it what it should be, an institution of the highest order, amply 
supplied with means to carry on the work which it has begun. 
New buildings are needed at once, especially for the young wo- 
men, who are not able to bear the hardships which the young 
men willingly undergo, and the walls of "Virginia Hall," inclos- 
ing chape], dining-room, and dormitories, have risen, brick by 
brick, as the money has come to us from kindly Northern friends, 
who believe, as we do, that their gifts are made to serve a noble 
end. This " Hall " will cost, unfurnished, ^75,000, and will in 
itself be an education for our students, for here they will find 
those appliances of civilization which, while they are to us 
every-day matters, are to them an important part of a new life. 
Here they will be taught the cleanliness, order, and decencies 
of manner which are as necessary in any scheme of education 
for the negro as the spelling-book and the pen, and here they 
will be made gradually but surely to feel the influence of that 
careful physical training to which most of them are entirely 

When this undertaking is complete — and we have faith that 
that day is not far off — then our young men may claim a like 
shelter and opportunity, and still must we look chiefly to the 
North to supply the sinews of war in this fight against igno- 
rance, believing that pur prayer, made in the name of a righteous 
cause, will not go long unanswered. 

* A further account of Virginia Hall and its financial history will 
be found in the chapter devoted to the Hampton student singers. 



Writing, as I am permitted to do, as a representative of the 
teachers of the school, I am able to speak very boldly of its 
personal aspect, and we who for its sake are not ashamed to beg 
are of one mind as to the exceeding great reward which this 
work offers, v 


The reward to the State is found in the economy of public 
moneys, and in the protection from that chiefest danger to a 
democracy, an ignorant population. 

The reward to the teacher comes hour by hour in grateful 
acknowledgment of eye and hand, in the witness of rapid and 
steady growth toward a better life, in the sure conviction that 
the result will stand, not for time alone, but for eternity. 

And the reward of you who give unto us of that which we 
have not will come in part in the sight of a noble work going 
surely on to its accomplishment, but in its completeness only 


in that hereafter whose blessing is that which passeth under- 

In this Uttle volume, we have tried to lay our case fairly 
before a public to whom it is not altogether unknown, and the 
facts of Hampton's past history, with the arguments which it 
has to show in favor of its system, may, we believe, be left to 
speak for themselves. When we ask, " Shall Hampton be made 
a permanent, powerful institution .-•" we think it is evident that 
the question goes far deeper than its face. 

" Shall the four millions of ex-slaves within our national 
boundaries be educated into useful, honest citizens, or left to 
corrupt the country and themselves by the strangely fatal 
power of ignorance T 

" Shall the four millions of God's children thrown helpless 
upon the nation's charity be lifted up into the equality of 
Christendom, or left to the dominion of vices from which only 
a wise and timely care can save them .'"' 

It is, in truth, this that we are asking, and it is to this that 
you into whose hands heaven has given the means of a peo- 
ple's salvation must give the answer, an answer which, be it 
remembered, reaches past our feeble questioning, up to the ear 
of God himself. 




In the year 1863, when the need of the freed people was 
most extensive and pressing, General B, F. Butler, being then 
chief in command at Fortress Monroe, erected with govern- 
ment funds the large wooden building shown in the accom- 
panying cut, which has ever since been known as " The Butler 

By the end of that year, above six hundred pupils were 
gathered within its rough walls, under the care of the Rev. 
Charles A. Raymond, chaplain of the military post, who con- 
ducted it upon the Lancasterian plan-s^that is, by a system of 
monitors who, after receiving instruction from the principal, 
would at once convey' it to their pupils. Their task must have 
been sufficiently perplexing, inasmuch as to the ordinary diffi- 
culties of such was added the unpleasantness of having 
all the six hundred children, utterly untrained as they were, 
huddled into a single room ; for in those dark days, the refine- 
ments of education were things scarcely to be so much as hoped 
for. This overcrowding was, however, gradually relieved by the 
establishment of another school at " Slabtown " (an impromptu 
suburb of Hampton), and by the building of the " Lincoln 
School " in 1866, by General Armstrong, with funds supplied 
b}'' General Howard. 

The " Butler " school-house was turned over by the govern- 
ment in 1865 to the American Missionary Association, who 
supplied it with teachers until it became the property of the 
trustees of the Hampton Institute, upon whose grounds it 


stands. In 1871, these trustees requested the public school 
officers of the county to assume charge of it, reserving the right 
to nominate its principal. It thus became a free county school, 
the building, however, remaining the property of the Hampton 
Institute, whose officers and teachers have kept a watchful eye 
upon an institution many of whose pupils naturally pass 
into the more advanced system of Hampton, and graduate from 

In fact, the school as it now stands is properly preparatory to 
the " Normal." It is at present under the charge of George and 
Eunice Dixon, members of the Society of Friends, whose 
faithful labors for the freedmen, both in this country and in Eng- 
land, have allied them so closely with the Hampton School 
that they have come finally to take, as teachers, direct interest 
in its work, and from their present responsible position furnish 
the following facts in regard to their school : 

" Its pupils," writes Mrs. Dixon, "now number 194: 95 girls 
and 99 boys, running, in age, from five years to twenty-four, 
and my assistants are a young colored woman, a graduate of 
the Normal School at Providence, Rhode Island, and a young 
colored man, a graduate of the Hampton Normal School. 
There are two divisions — the county school and the prepara- 
tory class for the ' Normal ;' the latter numbering some forty 
members, most of whom show a strong desire to learn, and 
are taught reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and grammar. 

" As this is usually their first experience of school life, we 
found it, in the beginning, difficult to establish any proper dis- 
cipline ; but the system which we have chosen has been grad- 
ually successful, and our school is in comparatively good order. 
We told our scholars at the outset that there was to be no 
whipping, but that persistent violation of the rules of the school 


would result in expulsion, and our resolution has been carried 
out. One very bad boy has been expelled, with the promise of 
being allowed to reenter next year if he shows himself deserv- 
ing of the privilege, and others have been suspended for a day 
or two, and taken back on a promise of obedience. The plan 
has worked well, and had a good effect upon the school." 

The Superintendent of Public Schools for the county, a 
Southern gentleman, George M. Peek, Esq., has always shown 
especial interest in the Butler School, and on his last official 
visit to it expressed his warm gratification with its present con- 
dition, which is very encouraging, as its influence among the 
younger children of the neighborhood is immediate, while its 
position as preparatory to the higher training of Hampton 
makes its well-being a matter of serious importance, 

M. F. A. 




By H. W. L. 





A FOUR months' residence in the school, and the occasional 
opportunities its busy hours afford for researches among the 
cabins, could scarcely enable one to elaborate any thorough 
estimate of negro character, or to add any thing of value to the 
discussion of the great question of the freedmen's education, 
though one quarter of that time is enough to fascinate a novice 
with the work. 

I have to offer instead, therefore, only a few sketches, in 
simplest light and shade, of the life of bondage and freedom, a 
few homely interiors of the cabin and school ; and the subject 
is so full of picturesqueness and variety, that I find it difficult 
to choose from the materials I have collected. 

The special interest of most of the portraits is that they are 
drawn by their own originals. They were obtained from our 
students by the offer of prizes for the best executed, with the 
design of private distribution, to interest friends at the North, 
and for this purpose were left entirely uncorrected and unre- 
vised ; and as only the new-comers were asked to write, they are 
a sample of the material we have to work upon rather than 
of the results of oui* work. 

After all, this broken speech seems, somehow, on mellow 
Southern tongues, far more musical than elegant English. 


There is a charm of freshness and spontaneity and uncon- 
scious eloquence which the first effect of cultivation is often to 
destroy. A provincial dialect is picturesque as a peasant 
costume, and can be remodeled only at the expense of its 

It is passing rapidly away, and its wearers, naturally per- 
haps, are eager to cast off and forget as utterly as they may 
what they regard as a badge of former humiliation, not realiz- 
ing that they will by and by return and reverently seek for 
the scattered fragments of a past that was so rich in pathetic, 
characteristic interest. 

There is a present and practical reason for us to collect 
them, that we may more vividly picture to ourselves the neces- 
sities of our new fellow-citizens and the duties we still owe to 



We are very frequently asked whether we discover any 
marked difference in the mental and physical strength of our 
light and dark students, the prevailing idea seeming to be that 
the approach to the Anglo-Saxon type must be in all respects 
an advantage. The school is perhaps as good a field as could 
be found for the study of this interesting and significant 
question. We find there all shades of color and various race 
mixtures, and at first view the subject seems a puzzling one. 
The prize biography last year was written by a student who 
might go from one end of the Union to the other without being 
suspected of a drop of negro blood ; the prize oration, at the 
laying of the corner-stone of Virginia Hall, was delivered by a 
young man of the most undoubted African type. The ques- 
tion is one which demands careful and thorough study ; and a 
far more valuable consideration of it than my few months' 
observation can furnish is the following testimony of General 
Armstrong : 

" The experience of teachers of freedmen, as far as I know, 
is, that nothing is to be taken- for granted, by reason of a light 

" There is a good deal in the shape of the head, the facial 
angle, the general make-up or style of the person, but there 
are frequent exceptions to this. Many are better than they look. 

" The light color usually signifies a less cheery disposition ; 
mulattoes and octoroons often have sad faces, languid eyes, such 
as are hardly to be found among the pure blacks. In respect 
to intellect, the latter are quite as apt to be well endowed as 
the former. The negro is usually more ingenuous and simple 
than the mixed class. 


" The pure-blooded have more endurance than the other 
class ; they can stand more heat, longer and harder pressure, 
and seem to have not only more vitality, but to be more likely 
to last as a people. Infusion of white ideas has proved much 
more advantageous to the blacks than infusion of white blood. 

"There is a good deal of jealousy and caste feeling among 
the negroes, based on color ; a decided preference for being 
white. This points to the unhappy fact of a lack of pride of 
race, of esprit de corps as a nation. They seem to have no 
national idea ; and with strong desire and effort for individual 
improvement, there is little faith in or enthusiasm for them- 
selves as a people with a high destiny. 

" My experience and observation for over two years with the 
black troops was, that the highest non-commissioned officers 
were as dark, as a class, as the rest of the regiment. These offi- 
cers were carefully picked out for their capacity and force, and 
I took pains to see if they were not of lighter skins than the 
rest of the rank and file. The best ten in a thousand were 
about of the average shade. I learned to base no opinion what- 
ever on mere color." 

A rather amusing aspect of the question is taken by one of 
the students who is as white as the whitest of us, and bears the 
additional peculiarity of red hair in mockery of his undoubted 
claim to African descent. He sets forth feelingly some of the 
conflicting advantages and disadvantages of a white skin : 

" I am at the Hampton Normal School at present, under the 
patronage of Mr. George Dixon, for whose goodness to me I 
shall always feel grateful. On my way to this place, I made 
the acquaintance of a colored gentleman going to Petersburg, 
so we journeyed together from Danville, and met with nothing 
of .note till we got to Burkeville, where we had to wait for the 
cars till next day. On getting off the train, I was immediately 
beset by porters, who claimed me for their respective hotels. 
As I could not be well divided, I went with one who promised 


me a bed for twenty-five cents, (cheap !) As they did not ask 
my companion to go, I said to him, * Come, let's go to the hotel' 
He and I started, but he was informed by the proprietor that 
he didn't take colored people at his hotel, and he recommended 
him to another place ; but me they took to the hotel, not 
knowing that I was colored ; so, as they didn't ask, I didn't 
busy myself telling it, and was comfortably provided for, for 
the night. 

" This was all very well till next day, when, going to get my 
ticket, I called for a second-class fare, for my money was 
somewhat short. The agent looked at me with a stare, and 
said, * Sir, we only sell second-class tickets to niggers ! As you 
are a white man, you must buy a white man's ticket.' Here 
was a stunner. A colored man made into a white man with- 
out his say so ! But I was not to be outdone, and so hunted 
up my colored friend, who bought me the desired * nigger's ' 
ticket, and we bid Burkeville farewell," 



It was a great surprise to me to discover that the element 
of humor is almost entirely lacking in the character of the 
Southern negro, though he has a certain sense of the broadly 
grotesque. He may sometimes furnish material for the 
humor of others, but it is quite unintentional usually. Whe- 
ther this be a primitive deficiency or not, I do not know. It 
may well enough be owing to the severe schooling of slavery, 
which left little time for any laughing but that coarser sort 
which comes from want of thought instead of quickness. Does 
not this very want, however, itself suggest a means of elevating 
him — at least a test of his progress } I have always hailed the 
dawn of a tolerable joke as a promise of light ahead, and I 
regard the sly, humorous hit at a fleecy official wolf one of the 
best points in the otherwise well-written sketch which fol- 
lows : 


" Times have changed so fast in the last ten years, that I often 
ask myself who am I, and why am I not on my master's plan- 
tation, working under an overseer, instead of being here in 
this institution, under the instruction of a school-teacher. I 
was born in 1849. My master was very good to his slaves, 
and they thought a great deal of him. But all of our happy 
days were over when he went South and caught the cotton 
fever. He was never satisfied till he moved out there. He 
sold the house before any of the black people knew any thing 
about it, and that was the beginning of our sorrow. My 
father belonged to another man, and we knew not how soon 
we would be carried off from him. Two of my aunts were 
married, and one of them had ten children, and both of their 


husbands belonged to another man. Father and my uncles 
went to their masters and asked them to buy their families. 
They tried to, but our master wouldn't sell, and told him 
how many hundred dollars' worth of cotton he could make off 
us every year, and that we little chaps were just the right size 
to climb cotton-stalks and pick cotton. But our master and 
father's master had once agreed that if either one of them 
ever moved away, he would sell out to the other. So father's 
master sent for the other gentlemen who heard the conversa- 
tion, and they said it was true. After a day or two's considera- 
tion, he agreed to let him have mother and the seven children 
for ;^ 1 2,000. That released us from sorrow. But it was not so 
with my aunts ; they had lost all hope of being with their 
husbands any longer ; the time was set for them to start ; it 
was three weeks from the time we were sold. Those three 
weeks did not seem as long as three days to us who had to 
shake hands for the last time with those bound together with 
the bands of love. 

" Father said he could never do enough for his master for 
buying us. They treated us very well for the first three 
or four years — as the saying was with the black people, they 
fed us on soft corn at first and then choked us with the husk. 
When I was large enough to use a hoe, I was put under the 
overseer to make tobacco-hills. I worked under six overseers, 
and they all gave me a good name to my master. I only got 
about three whippings from each of them. The first one was 
the best ; we did not know how good he was till he went away 
to the war. Then times commenced getting worse with us. 
I worked many a day without any thing to eat but a tin cup of 
buttermilk and a little piece of corn-bread, and then walk two 
miles every night or so to carry the overseer his dogs ; if we 
failed to bring them, he would give us a nice flogging. 

"When the war closed, our master told all the people, if 
they would stay and get in the crop, he would give them part 
of it. Most of them left ; they said they knew him too 
well. Father made us all stay, so we all worked on the re- 


mainder of the year, just as if Lee hadn't surrendered. I 
never worked harder in my life, for I thought the more we 
made, the more we would get. We worked from April till one 
month to Christmas. We raised a large crop of corn and 
wheat and tobacco, shucked all the corn and put it in the barn, 
stripped all the tobacco, and finished one month before Christ- 
mas. Then we went to our master for our part he had pro- 
mised us, but he said he wasn't going to give us any thing, and 
he stopped giving us any thing to eat, and said we couldn't 
live any longer on his land. Father went to an officer of the 
Freedmen's Bureau, but the officer was like Isaac said 
to Esau : ' The voice is like Jacob's voice, but the hands 
are the hands of Esau.' So that was the way with the officer 
— he had on Uncle Sam's clothes, but he had Uncle Jeff's 
heart. He said our master said we wasn't worth any thing, 
and he couldn't get any thing for us, so father said no more 
about it. 

" We made out to live that winter — I don't know how. In 
April, 1866, father moved to town where he could work at his 
trade. He hired all of us boys that were large enough to work 
in a brick-yard for from three to six dollars a month. That was 
the first time I had tasted the sweet cup of freedom. 

" I worked hard all day, and went to night-school two terms 
and a half, and three months to day-school. When I entered, 
I could read and spell a little, but did not know one figure from 
another, or any writing. These schools were kept by the 
Philadelphia Friends' Relief Association, and had very good 

" Father moved next to East Tennessee, and I went to 
school there three months last winter, and was sent with my 
sister and two other brothers, by some kind friends who had 
been my teachers, to this Hampton Normal and Agricultural 



A FEW rods from the school-farm gate, on the road to 
Hampton, stands a row of neat white-washed cabins, curtained 
by swinging Virginia creepers, and hiding behind mammoth 
rose-bushes, rosy often till Christmas, though not so last 
winter, which was the coldest since the war — the war is still 
the epoch from which all dates are calculated in the South. 

On a mild November day, after a vain and unsophisticated 
search through Hampton for a church, black or white, disposed to 
keep Thanksgiving, I stopped with a friend at the door that boasts 
the biggest rose-bush, to negotiate for a bouquet to adorn our 
Thanksgiving dinner-table. Aunt Sally's familiar, beaming face 
and portly form filled the low doorway. 

" Come in, come in, chillen. I'se right proud for to see yer. 
Jes' come in an' sot up to de fiah a bit, whiles I gets ye some 
posies. We'll hab right smart ob a fros' to-night, /believe." 

" Thank you. Aunty," we said, accepting her invitation, and 
stepping into an absurdly tiny bit of a room, neat as wax-work, 
one side of it entirely taken up by a hugely disproportioned 
fireplace, a pine " candle-knot" distributing warmth and cheer- 
fulness between the great brass andirons, and a grizzly old 
" uncle" toasting himself comfortably in the chimney-corner. He 
rose as we entered, and gave us a minor echo of Aunt Sally's 
hearty greeting. 

" How is it you're all such heathen here in Hampton, Aunty } 
Not a church-door open on Thanksgiving-Day ! Got nothing 
to be thankful for .-*" 

" Laws, yes, dear. I'se been thankful stiddy for de las' ten 
year — eber sence Massa Linkum proclamated dat de black 
folks was free. But I specs fo' suah you won't find no churches 
open 'thout it is ober to de Missionary." 

" Oh ! yes, our chapel is open, and full too, but we thought 
we'd like to see how you keep the day yourselves." 


" Well, dear, I neber see it kep' nohow down yere, I reckon 
it's a kind o' Yankee day, like Christmas is ourn. Dere use 
to be great doin's ober Christmas in de ol' times." 

" You know you promised to tell us something about those 
old times some day. Aunty. Have you always' lived here, in 
Hampton ?" 

" I war raised yere, dear, but our family move ober to Nor- 
folk, an' we war dere when de war took place." 

" So you have always belonged to the same family — you had 
pretty easy times then, hadn't you ?" 

" Dat's so, dear. I war always employed a-nussin' chillen, you 
see, an' dey took good keer ob me." 

" How many children have you had, Aunty ?" 

"Fourteen, dear. De las' one war as likely a young gal 
when she war fifteen as eber you see ; tall, an' pretty as a 
pictur'. Rosy war — jes' as pretty as a pictur' !" and the old face 

" What's become of them all. Aunty ?" 

" Sold, dear ; ebery one on 'em sold down Souf, away from 

" And Rosy .?" 

" Sold — to a trader — when she war fifteen ; an' jes' as pretty 
as a pictur'. I did hear he sol' her to a man in Richmond, 
but I neber could fin' nuffin ob her, dough I sent dere sence 
de war. She's dead — she im^st be." 

There was a silence — a convulsion passed across the dark 
face — one gasp of reviving motherhood shook her great breast, 
and then her features settled back into their patient repose. 

" When de chillen war all done gone," she went on to say, 
" my missis 'lowed me for to hire my own time, an'I tuk a 
little cabin jes' out ob Norfolk, an' lived dere by myself eber 

" How did you support yourself.? Didn't you find it hard 
work .''" 

" I done washin'. I got along well enough tell the war come, 
an' den it war mighty hard scratchin' for ebery body ; but I 


war too old to be ob much use to 'em, so dey let me stay by my- 
self. I war dere when de Yankees marched into Norfolk." 

" That must have been a great time for your people." 

" I tell ye what, it war dat. My missis, she tuk fright afore- 
hand, an' move into de country, 'long o' some ob her relations, 
an' she try for to scare me. ' You'd better come 'long too, 
Aunty,' she say ; ' dem Yankees '11 cotch you. Dey's all got 
hoofs an' horns like de debil, an' dey won't leave a haar on 
you' head, fo' suah.' I done tell her what'd dey go to do 
to an ol' good-for-nuffin nigger like me. Dey wouldn't hab no 
use for me, I'se thinkin'. I'll stay by de stuff. So she lefif me. 
Dey didn't come for a day or two, but one mornin' I started 
out soon wid a basket ob eggs for to sell, when I beared sech 
a screechin', an' a runnin', an' a hollerin*, as ef de day ob 
judgment had come. All de colored people war out in de 
streets, an' de white ladies war a fro win' down deir best 'chiny 
bowls an* pitchers, an' ebery ting dey could lay der ban's on, 
out ob de second-story windows, at 'em, so dey had to take to 
de middle ob de street, an' dere dey stood all up an' down in 
rows, a shoutin' an' a hollerin'. ' 

"An' den I see a great flag, all torn an' dirty, a stretched 
clar across de street, a hangin' way down mos' to de groun'. 
' What's dat flag .''' I say to a man in de crowd. * Dat flag .'*' 
he say. 'Why, dat's a bressed flag. Aunty. Dat's de Union 
flag, an' de Yankees is comin' !' 

" I tell you, I jes' drop my basket ob eggs like I'd been 
shot, and ran down de street like an ol' cow, 'thout stoppin', tell 
I got to dat yer flag, an' den I spreads out my two arms wide 
— so — an' I hugs dat ol' flag up to my bress — so — an' I kisses 
it, an' a kisses it, an' I says, ' Oh ! bress you — bress you — bress 
yoii ! Oh ! why didn't you come sooner an' save jes' one ob my 
chillen ?' An' den de Yankees come a marchin' up de street 
wid de ban' aplayin', an' de people a shoutin', an' I war cryin' so 
I couldn't see nuffin, tell all to once I 'membered what my-oF 
missis tfell me, an' I wiped my eyes, an' looked to see ef dey 
did hab horns for sartin." 


" Well, did you see any horns, Aunty ?" 

" Go 'long ; dey were, ebery one on 'em, as pretty a gen'le- 
man as you be, sah, an' one ob de Yankee ofiEicers on a big 
white horse see me, an' hollered out to me, ' Dat's right, ol' 
woman, hug de ol' flag jes' as much as ye wan' ter,' an' de 
soldiers all cheered like mad. 

" De white ladies done shut up dem windows mighty quick 
when dey see de troops a really comin', an' all de colored folks 
war out all night. A white man says to me, ' Do you know 
it's arter nine, ol' woman ?' but a soldier steps up quick, an' 
says, ' Neber mind what time it is ; no more pattyroles now, 
Aunty !' So we done stay up all night long, a shoutin' an' a 
glorifyin' God !" 

We dried our eyes, took our roses, and went home, feeling 
that we had heard our Thanksgiving sermon after all. 



The proportion of girls to boys in the applicants for admis- 
sion to the school is about two to three. It is not unfair, I 
think, to estimate their relative appreciation and use of its op- 
portunities at about the same ratio, and, as far as I have been 
able to inform myself, it is the ratio which exists generally 
among the freed people. There are brilliant exceptions, but, as 
a general rule, the young women are not so intensely alive as 
the young men are to the importance of an education. There 
must be a reason for this state of things, of course. I think 
it is that slavery has done more for the degradation of woman 
than of man, and freedom less, thus far, to elevate her. 

Ask any young freedman what liberty means to him, and he 
will answer instantly, " Citizenship — suffrage — the right to be 
an American citizen." The acquisition of this right, with all its 
presentprivileges and dreamed-of' possibilities, was a new birth 
to the slave — the wakening of a new soul. It is the secret, I 
believe, of his marvelous hunger and thirst after knowledge. 
Ignorance he thinks the badge of slavery. He confides in his 
white leaders because of their superior information. 

" Look at de white folks," I heard a preacher say, in a per- 
sonal application of his sermon, no doubt well understood by 
his flock. " D'ye eber see a white man want to marry a woman 
when he had a lawful wife a libing } Neber ! I neber beared 
ob sech a thing in all my life. A white man is 'structed : he 
knows dat's agin de law and de gospil." 

It is evident that this touching confidence, and his exalted' 
estimate of his unaccustomed privileges, may easily be taken 


advantage of by unscrupulous leaders, to the freedman's injury, 
but his intentions are innocent. In the glow of the first rosy 
dreams of youth that have ever been allowed him, he honestly 
believes that knowledge is power. He will therefore make 
every sacrifice for it. A student at Hampton, asked to give 
his reason for wishing an education, and his purpose in life, 
wrote naively, " I wish to be a statesman for the good of my 

Without this conspicuous and dazzling goal, the young freed- 
woman feels no corresponding immense incentive to the diffi- 
cult task of' self-education. A higher standpoint than slavery 
has left her is necessary to see that freedom's rich gift to wo- 
man is better than the ballot-box, and imposes higher respon- 
sibility — the gift of home : the right to her husband, the right 
to her children, the right to labor for her loved ones in a secure 
home, whose purity and happiness depend more than half upon 
herself. She does not dream that there is as much connection 
between arithmetic and housekeeping as there is between 
grammar and public speaking. 

There is the more need therefore of patient and earnest ef- 
fort by the teachers who are working for the elevation of this 
race to rouse the dormant energies of those upon whom its 
higher civilization will so largely depend, and the success which 
such efforts often bring proves them well worth while. In the 
list of colored teachers who have gone out from Hampton, there 
are none more promising and useful than some of its young 
women graduates. 

LIZZIE Gibson's story. 

" I was born a slave in the year 1852. I spent my happiest 
days of slavery in my childish days, and thought it was always 


to be just that way; but at the age of seven years that thought 
was changed, and a sorrowful change it was. I was then taken 
from my mother, as all the rest of the children was. Neither 
of us went to the same place, and only one staid at the old 
home. My master, as I called him, died, and being greatly in 
debt, we were first hired out to get money to pay the debts. 
This was not so grievous at first. We would get together and 
talk to each other about it, and how we were going to eat good 
things when we got to our new homes ; but just a few days be- 
fore the hiring took place, I was struck to my heart with a 
scene I can never forget, and it was this. There was a very 
public place where I then lived, and all that wanted to hire, 
sell, or buy, would come here, generally in court week, or the 
first day of the year. Then the streets would be crowded, to 
get them a nigger, as they generally called us, and in the crowd- 
ed street, sitting on the ground, was a colored woman with her 
children ; her husband was standing a little way off from her, 
crying. There walked up to him a white man, and said, * Have 
you any clothes .-* If you have, get them. You belong to me 
now. I want you to go home with me. Be quick about it, for 
I want to be off.' Then with a loud cry, the colored man said, 
' I have nothing but my wife and children. Have you bought 
them too } Are they going with you .''' ' No,' said the white 
man, ' I have bought none but you.' Then he begged to stay 
and see what was going to be done with his wife and children, 
but the man screamed out at him to get into the wagon to go, 
but would not tell him where he was going. Just at that time 
stepped up a very nice-looking man, and said, ' I have bought 
your wife and the baby, but the little boy I can't get. I will 
give her enough to eat and wear, and she shall be my cook.' 
Then walked up a great ugly-looking man and said, * Tell your 
mammy good-by then.' 

" I stood and looked some time without stirring, and when I 
found myself the briny tears were trickling down my cheeks. 
This was my first dread of slavery. Then the day came for me 
to stand on the block. It did not go so hard with me, but my 


sisters and brothers was scattered so that I never saw them 
again until we were called to this place again, not for the same 
light occasion, but it was for the fearful one of being sold. I 
was bought by the same one that I was hired to. I became 
quite a favorite with this family. They were very good to me, 
and taught me some of the precious truths of the Bible, which 
I have found of much use to me. God grant that I may con- 
tinue to learn of them and become wise in Christ. 

"The war came and went without my feeling it in the least. 
Then came the Emancipation, which was welcomed by every 
colored person, for it was the first time that they were able to 
say, ' Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, good-will to 
men,' without being afraid. I could hear first one and then 
the other saying, ' I am free !' Then I went to live with my 
cousin, and had a chance to go to school. I went six months, 
and learned to read very well, and then went out to service 
again, as I thought it my duty to help my father, who was not 
very strong, and had six children of us. In 1870, I got a very 
pleasant school. This I taught one year, and then returned 
home for the first time in my life. 

" In October, 1872, I came to Hampton, and will still look 
to God for the future." 

As an illustration of what three years of earnest work can do 
for a young freedwoman, I add to these sketches the 



"Kind Friends — Ladies and Gentlemen : We welcome you 
here to-day, and feel ourselves highly honored to be favored 
with your presence. Welcome, a hearty welcome to you, kind 
friends, who have left your homes to be with us to-day ; 
welcome, a happy welcome to our Board of Trustees ; and again 
a cordial welcome to all. Looking over this assemblage, I see 


many persons whose hearts, I believe, glow with brotherly love 
and sympathy, hoping to see us prosper in our work at Hamp- 
ton. Before us are some of the noble benefactors who have 
contributed so liberally to our school. Dear friends, you have 
been strong pillars of our institution, and by your ample assist- 
ance we have been raised to this point, and we still look to you 
for the future. We are not yet where we want to be, nor what 
we want to be. We are still dependent — only making one step 
toward the point we are striving to reach ; and when you see 
us climbing higher and higher up the hill of science, you can 
but look back upon the past and feel that you have again 
received your money with usury. 

" Friends of Virginia, who are present with us to-day, we hope 
that you will never have cause to regret that the building which 
to-day receives the name of Virginia Hall was founded upon 
your soil. Your generous gift to us of the College Land 
Scrip shows that you appreciate the work that has begun here, 
and we can only acknowledge your magnanimity by using 
every means given us in trying to redeem your State from 
poverty and ignorance. She has, to-day, many who have 
enjoyed the advantages of this school, working with earnestness 
and Christian fervor to diffuse knowledge among her illiterate 
citizens. Let North and South unite their efforts to rear such 
institutions as this, from whose walls light may beam into all 
our households, filling us with joy and peace. With unspeak- 
able joy can I exclaim, with the psalmist, ' Oh ! that men would 
praise the Lord for his goodness and for his wonderful works 
toward the children of men !' He has done great things for 
us, as a race, bybursting the galling chains of sin and ignorance 
and raising up for us such kind friends. Had it not been for 
our friends, many of us would not be here, receiving day by day 
an education which brings us from the dark path of ignorance 
to this beautiful field of knowledge. As we go out into the 
world, we shall still look to this school as our kind Alma Mater 
— ay, a mother indeed she has been to us, for she has given us 
more instruction in these three years than our dear but illiterate 


mothers ever could. Girls, let us determine to work faithfully 
in the cause of education, that the seeds of education we receive 
here may spring up and bear much fruit. 

" We thank all those who have shown kindness to our Singers, 
who are now giving concerts to raise the beautiful building of 
which we expect to-day to lay the corner-stone. The word 
corner-stone calls my mind to that beautiful verse in the Bible, 
' The stone which the builders rejected, the same has become 
the head of the corner ;' that stone upon which the whole is 
now resting. Let us raise our hearts and voices to the great 
Corner-stone to pour forth his blessings upon us, that our 
school may be consecrated to him, as was the beautiful temple 
of Solomon; that those who abide within her walls may have 
their hearts set upon the noble work of instructing their race ; 
that their general deportment may be such as will give their 
school credit ; and that after we leave here, we may get for her a 
name that will never be effaced. 

" Dear schoolmates, the whole responsibility is resting upon 
us. We are to raise, as it were, her walls higher, year by year ; 
therefore let us work with unwearied zeal, never ceasmg to labor 
until He shall say, * It is enough.' " 



I OUGHT, perhaps, to borrow from the wit of the immortal 
Artemus, to head the following biography with the assurance 
that " this is not a goak," though it may serve as a good illus- 
tration of the first effect of disturbing the picturesque costume 
of the freedman's own dialect. I should not publish it certainly, 
if, while I know it will provoke a laugh — as it would by this time 
in the writer — I did not hope that it will find many readers as 
sympathetic as one to whom I showed it in manuscript — a lady 
of intellect and culture, who can judge our "peculiar institu- 
tions" all the more impartially, perhaps, for not being an 
American, while her remarkably delicate acquaintance with 
English gives her as quick appreciation of the drollery of its 
misuse as if it were her mother tongue. 

She detects within the curious tangle of words more ideas 
than are sometimes found in school compositions at the North, _ 
and a touching depth of heart. She sees interesting suggestions 
of tropical fertility and strength of imagination ; she finds 
something very pathetic in the evident struggle for expression, 
and she thinks that your irresistible laugh will be followed by a 
deeper thought and a tenderer judgment. 

I have hoped so, too. 


"I was born September ist, 185 1, at Nixonton, a small col- 
lection of Pasquotank Co., N. C. When two years old, more or 
less, I remember loving little play-carts, and made them often, 
and felt that I had done as much as the man who makes the 
large and useful dray. Little play-vessels in like manner 


charmed my years as they passed. And the like fancies pos- 
sessed my love. When the civil war of 1861 came on, I was 
near ten years of age. My father was a slave, but my mother 
was not, but considered free, consequently I was, as mother, 
what was called the free-born in those days. 

" My mother was obliged to work very hard to support her four 
children, father being unable to do but little. People were in 
confusion on the account of war, and father, accordingly, for 
the sake of freedom, ran away in the Union lines, about sixty 
miles from home, to Roanoke Island, N. C. Seven months after- 
wards he returned, and taking mother and the children, retraced 
his route to the Union lines. At first we were a little troubled, 
but soon father got some work to do, and began to make money 
and means of support. Meanwhile, government schools were 
erected. My brother and sister were sent to school, and I put 
to work to help earn means of support. After the first year W^e 
were there, I was sent to school. I studied my books with 
much energy, and my teachers said I learned remarkably, thus 
gaining the approval of teachers and friends. 

"Time rolled on, and when we had been there two years and a 
half, we returned home (in 1864). Now the war being closed, 
that terrible conflict, the people were not yet settled. Money 
being scarce, father knew not what to do for the best. Gov- 
ernment schools were set up in our city, and I went to school 
a few months, when father, seeking for a better situation, 
moved in the country a few miles where there was not any 
schools or churches, and his subsequent removals into similar 
vicinities began an effectual change in my manner, being desti- 
tute of these necessary instructions. Tho' I never forgot to 
work what I could for my own elevation. Two years in this 
desolated land when I had passed through an ordeal of these 
unfriendly circumstances. 

" At this point, father again removed home, and I went to 
school a short while in the winter, and resumed my business of 
farming in spring, as usual, but with brighter views, looking on 
the dark, sarcastic sceneries of the past like tmto a stamp by which 


a feature was wrought in my character, which in every way made 
i7te probably more fit and ready for incidents ; which rebelled 
against extravigance and approved economy. When I got 
these small opportunities to attend school, I valued them much. 
My father could not aid or send me to school much at the 
time, and it was my constant prayer to God for the time when I 
could go to school, and I looked to the time when I should be 

" Time rolled on, and on Sep. i, 1872, I was twenty- 
one. The time now expired that I had long looked to for 
more brighter prospects. But being out in the wide world 
without experience to seek my own welfare was seemingly 
keen. The first work I did to earn money for myself was 
teaching a small school near home. My teacher having 
previously given me the advice to come to Hampton N. & 
A. Institute, I did accordingly, entering this school October 
I, inst. 

" I began to see my way more clearly. God was answering 
prayer. Event after event with the time had been passing, 
leaving me apparently the more in dark dispare. Those 
which appeared as joy served only as the meteors which appear 
and then disappear, leaving you in the more obscure darkness 
than before. But this event was so soothing to my disparing 
heart, and so much more than a poor boy could expect, so 
lofty, / was inspired, or seemed inspired with magnanimity. I 
could love my friends, and look upon my enemies without 
contempt, scorn, or hatred. Here at this place I was pro- 
vided with friends more and better than I felt my unworthy 
self deserving. I feel with gratitude and much love toward 
them, and feel or rather know that ' thanks ' are too small a 
sacrifice for their attention, kindness, and generosity to me. 

" Time was yet rolling untill to-day. I can only stand, com- 
pare the past with the present, meditate the striking con- 
trast, the difference of my present feeling with that of last 
year this time, or year before, or if you will, the time before ; 
I can look on my teachers and friends with uplifted, light. 


and fervent heart, and dilating eyes, telling the unutterable 
story of thanks within. My desire is to make every effort 
prove my faithfulness to them and my own elevation, and to 
show that I value it beyond my power of expression. I have 
every desire to be that in principle and character which men 
could approve and God could smile upon, 

" Now at home are two sisters and four brothers, who are 
not enjoying the advantages of education, and command my 



The truthfulness of a picture depends quite as much on the 
light in which it is viewed as on that in which it is painted. In 
selecting its tone and arranging his light and shade, the artist 
has to consider where it will hang, and what strange rays will 
fall across his lines and distort his shadows. He can not al- 
ways afford to sit down in broad daylight and paint his picture 
just as he sees it. 

I think the time has happily arrived when the pictures of 
slave-life may be so painted, instead of being toned down to 
one or another uniform tint to suit a Northern or a Southern 
exposure. They are not now to be viewed in the fierce glow of 
passion, the twilight of cold indifference, or the cross-lights of 
conflicting popular prejudices, but in the clearness of a day that 
is approaching its meridian, in whose generous and generally 
diffused radiance the more delicate shades of an experience that 
was varied, like all other phases of human life, may be dis- 
cerned and appreciated. 

The darkest places of slavery can indeed be illuminated only 
by that light from above which, soon or late, shines into all the 
dark places of earth, the sunshine of God's love and providence. 
It is time, perhaps, that those of us who have been so long, 
accustomed to regard slavery as an unmitigated evil and dark- 
ness should look at it in this higher light. In the long per- 
spective of the ages, we have no trouble in seeing that every 
nation which has been great in history has passed through its 
baptism of fire. We can acknowledge that the forty years' 
wandering in the wilderness were, to the Israelites, the neces- 
sary entrance to the Promised Land. We glory in the tribula- 


tions also of our own Puritan ancestors, and fathers of the 
Revolution, and are quite willing to think that the inherited 
benefits of their sufferings and struggles have not so far run 
out in a century that it is yet time to renew them. And so 
those who are standing as educators of this new-born nation 
of freedmen, viewing them from close standpoints, in all lights, 
and mingling not only with a picked class of students, but 
with the outside masses, and with those whose relations to 
them have so suddenly changed, learn to discern the hand of 
God in ^the long wanderings and captivity of this race, whose 
history bears so striking an analogy to that of the Peculiar 
People, that they have themselves adopted that as the type of 
their own. 

I have been most forcibly struck with this aspect of the case 
as exemplified in the difference I find between the freed people 
and their brethren in the North, among whom my estimate of 
the race was first formed. The marked superiority in many 
respects of a people just emerged from slavery to those who 
had not with a great price obtained their freedom — though 
there are of course shining and well-known exceptions to such 
a statement — perplexed and troubled my most cherished con- 
victions of the value of the privileges of liberty, until I remem- 
bered it is through much tribulation that we enter into all our 
^kingdoms, and reflected that we lovers of liberty at the North 
have imposed upon our colored brother all the depressing dis- 
tinctions of caste that make a great part of the demoralizing 
influences of slavery, while he has missed the stern discipline 
of an experience which, terrible as it was, has developed a 
strength and a stamina, a religious sentiment and character in 
his enslaved brother which his weak-natured race could never 
have gained otherwise, it may be, certainly not in the tropical 


wilds from which it came. In this light of God upon history, 
slavery itself may yet praise Him. • 

But even from lower standpoints, we may now acknowledge 
occasional rays that cheer the darkness. We may gratify our 
faith in humanity with the acknowledgment that many large- 
hearted and deep-thinking slave-owners have existed, like one 
whose liberal views and clear foresight make him now one of 
the ablest advocates of the education of the freedmen, who, in 
the face of his influential position in the South, used to gather 
his numerous slaves into Sunday-schools and teach them to 
read and write. We shall find that there were many others 
who, from simple generosity and gentlemanliness, or even the 
mere characteristic good-nature of a Southern temperament, if 
you will, unconsciously made the best of the unnatural relations 
in which birth and education had placed them, and cast a glow 
of cheerfulness over the life upon " the old plantation." 

There is something cheering and honorable to both sides in 
the fact that a friendship still exists in some cases between the 
-freedmen and their former masters, and there are, I believe, 
not unfrequent cases like that of Aunt Nancy, in Hampton, 
who, seeing her old mistress reduced to poverty by the war, 
insists on still doing her washing and many little heartily 
rendered services. 

And there is,' certainly, some significance in the fact that 
when General Armstrong, as officer of the Freedman's Bureau 
at Hampton, took measures to distribute the crowded popula- 
tion of freedmen who had flocked there as " contrabands," a 
very large proportion gladly accepted the free passes offered by 
the Bureau to return to their old homes. They knew, of course, 
that they were returning as freedmen and not slaves, and one 
motive may have been a mere physical attachment to locality, 


or the longing to see their own people ; but it is evident, at 
least, that their old masters had not always inspired them with 
a dread of fiends who could not be endured in any relation. 
They found, indeed, in very many cases, that, practically, the 
new responsibilities of freedom involved hard work and self- 
sacrifice to which they had never been accustomed. And, 
while the darker aspects of slave life have their own terrible 
reality, it is no doubt true that its merely physical effects were 
not always felt as oppressive. 

It is in the intense fight of his new opportunities, and by the 
broad contrasts of such advantages of education and dignity as 
the school affords, that the freedman looks back upon the house 
of bondage as a dungeon of unmitigated darkness. It is 
pleasant to find that, even on this higher standpoint, he can 
sometimes preserve a sunny memory of the past, such as that 
below, whose single dark line, the bare fact of enslavement, is, 
after all, the real clue to all the worst results of an intrinsically 
false system. 

TIMOTHY smith's LIFE. 

. " My parents were both slaves. They belonged to different 
masters. We children were with our mother. Our master 
was an honest, religious man, and kind to his servants. He 
owned a medium-sized plantation. Here I was nurse for several 
years. I liked the line of nursing very much as it were my 
own brothers and sisters I had to attend to. From thence he 
put me in the house as a dining-room servant. I can almost 
imagine now precisely how I looked then standing round the 
table with a large bunch of peacock feathers in my hand fan- 
ning the flies off. Just as soon as the meals would be over, I 
would be out playing, hunting, or fishing. I seen delightful 
times in those days. When I was at home, they would have 


me sometimes working on the farm, sometimes in the house. 
Either occupation were done cheerfully. Every thing seemed 
pleasant to me, and I was almost as happy as a spring bird, 
except for one thing that I was bereft of that grieved me much, 
and that was an education. I had almost every thing I wished 
for in reason except an education and freedom. When I was 
large enough to attend to my master's affairs, he put me at the 
head of his farm. This I delighted in much. I felt like that 
he was a dear friend of mine, for he would often tell me that I 
would be free .some of these days, for the Bible said so. This 
was several years before the rebellion, but I believed him, for 
he was a truthful man. I have followed my plow many a day, 
whistling of my plain tunes, and felt like that there was a 
better day a coming — meanwhile I enjoyed a good time. 

" At the end of the war, he told me I was welcome to stay with 
him the balance of the year. He clothed and fed me, but gave 
me no wages. As my mother and father had been parted by 
some misfortune, I was obliged to look out for mother and 
seven children, so when Christmas drew nigh I told him that I 
must get a home where I could work for them. He told me he 
would give me any price in reason if I would stay with him the 
next year. Well, I agreed to stay, provided he would give me 
one fourth of every thing that was made upon the plantation and 
feed the whole family and school us of nights. He immediate- 
ly agreed to do so. I would work hard upon the farm all day 
and study at night. I did not know my a b c's at the begin- 
ning of 1866. I could not write my name in 1867. There were 
no public schools near by. I walked a mile every night, some- 
times in snow knee-deep. I seen that education was a great 
thing and something that I badly needed, especially in keeping 
my accounts. I staid there during 1868. That fall I had a 
chance to go five months to a public school. I thought the 
time was precious and I lost just as little of it as possible. My 
distance then was five miles, which I walked every night and 
morning. Rain, hail, or snow seldom kept me back. During 
that time I professed religion. Ever since that time I have 


been trying to serve my Heavenly Master. I find it to be the 
greatest thing that I ever did in my life. In 1869 I went seven 
months to school again, living with my uncle three miles from 
the school. 

" The Superintendent of the county was anxious to have me 
come to this Institution, so through his recommendation I am 
here to-day, and belong to the Junior Class. I am grateful 
to God for this much-esteemed opportunity. 

" Dear reader, you will please remember when you read these 
few lines that you are reading the writing of a person that has 
only had about sixteen or seventeen months school altogether." 



Father Parker would make a fine specimen of an African ' 
bishop, were he called to the sceptre of St. Augustine instead 
of the pastoral charge of the one colored Methodist flock in 
Hampton. He has ample presence and dignity for the posi- 
tion, and the effect of his portly six feet of stature is added to 
by a pair of silver-bowed spectacles, which are usually pushed 
far up on his high bald crown above the ring of grizzled wool 
around it. His superbly sonorous voice, without a suspicion 
of nasal tone, rings through his little Zion every Sunday, 
awakening sinners and comforting saints, and when he cries, 
" De Lord will come, my brudderin', an', . as one ob de com- 
mentators tells us, ' He will burn up de chaff wid unsquincha- 
ble fire !' " wailing moans of fearful expectation rise to the 
rafters ; and when he whispers tenderly, " Oh ! dont you know, 
my little chil'en, dat my dear Jesus hab died for you, an' 
hab giben himself for you .-'" his words are echoed with sobs. 

At a love-feast one night, in the silent pause after the wild,, 
rude hymns poured forth that night with unusual fervor and 
earnestness, Father Parker talked to his flock of the wonderful 
peace of God that filled his heart. " Twenty-two years ago, 
my brudderin', de Lord spake peace to my soul. Den.ebery 
thing said peace to me also. De birds sang ' Peace, peace,' an' 
de leaves up in de tree-tops said ' Peace, peace,' an' my own 
heart said ' Peace !' an', my brudderin', it has been saying 
'peace' eber sence." 

After listening to one of his Sunday morning sermons, as we 
occasionally liked to do, two of the teachers from the " Mission- 
ary" lingered after service to introduce ourselves to Father 
Parker, and ask if we might call and see him some evening, 
and talk over the " old times" with him a little. He welcomed 
us with affability that was courtly, so the next Saturday evenr 
ing found us at his door. 

It was opened by a fresh-faced woman who asked us into- 


the neat little parlor with a smile, while she went to " tell 
Father," who was in his study. A bright little girl, sitting in 
the room with her book, we naturally took for a grand-daughter, 
but she said she had been adopted by Father Parker, who sent 
her to school. 

Summoned to his " study," we mounted the stairs, and found 
it to be a corner of his bedroom, where the old bishop was 
seated in a comfortable arm-chair, before a table holding two 
or three books besides his well-worn Bible, while a large illus- 
tration from The Southern Workman adorned the wall in front 
of him. 

" I'm glad to see you, honey ; glad to see you, my dear," he 
said, rising to meet us with a cordial smile, while the fresh- 
faced woman brought us chairs, and then seated herself at a 
table near with some sewing. 

" This is your daughter. Father Parker .^" 

" No, my wife," he said. The woman glanced up from her 
needle, and they exchanged a quiet smile. 

" But you have children T' 

" Dey are all dead," he replied, such a quick flash of pain 
crossing his face that we hastened to turn from what was evi- 
'dently a darker memory than death. 

" You have a large church here .-'" 

" Yes, it is de only one. All de rest are Baptisses. Dere's 
a great deal ob work yere for all ob us. De young people don't 
care so much for gwine to meetin' as de ol' folks use to when 
we had to meet in de woods for fear ob man." 

" Have you always been a preacher. Father Parker .-*" 

" Eber sence I experienced religion. Dat's nigh on to fifty 
year ago. When I got de grace ob God into my heart, I war 
■ called to speak to sinners. I began in de cabin meetin's, and 
when de white preacher dat had charge ob our church founded 
out dat I could read, he had me to 'slst in de singin', and to 
lead de prayer-meetin's, an' to preach when he war away. 
You know de cullered people war obleege to hab white minis- 
ters in slavery times. He use' to come down oust in a while 


and preach up ' Sarvants, obey your marssas,' an' den I'd preach 
de gospil in between times, 'cep'. when he was to hear me ; 
den I'd hab to take his tex'." 
"And who took the salary ?" 

Father Parker's resounding laugh showed that he did not 
think we asked for information. 

" But how did you learn to read so well ?" 

" I learned dat 'fore I got religion, from my second marssa's 
little gal. I tuk care ob de stable, an' she use' to go by ebery 
day to school, an' I tol' her I wished I knowed my letters, an' 
she said she'd teach me. So she use' to come into de stable 
ebery evenin' on her way home, tell one day her pa beared me 
a-sayin' off my letters to ber, an' he called her out an' slapped 
her face, an' guv me a whippin'. Den she war mad, an' said 
she'd teach me anyway, but we had to be mighty sly about it. 
But when de white preacher foun' I could read some, he use' 
to take me nights an' teach me to read de hymes an' de church 

" But didn't he know that was against the law ? Did he 
think the law wrong .''" 

" Oh ! 'twarn't dat, but he wanted me to help him, an' so he 
teached me so I could read de 'scipline." 

" You spoke of your second master. How many did you 
have .''" ^ 

"I war sol' three times, but dat war when I war young. I 
hab libed a slave in Norfolk forty year. De las' three or four 
I paid my marssa twenty-five dollar a month for my body, an' 
kep' myself I war in Norfolk all fru de war. I seen de ol' 
Varginny when she went out to fight de Shenando', an' den de 
nex' day, sab, dere came a little thing down from de Norf — look 
jes' like a cheese-box. Dey say de debil war in her — could 
go un'er de water jes's well's on top. Called her de Fer- 
mometer, I b'lieves ; an,' sir, she done whip dat Varginny all to 
pieces — come back wid a great hole in her. Yes, I'se seen 
wonderful things in my day — seen pretty hard times too — but 
I hab seen His people freed !" 


" That must have been a wonderful day." 

"It war a wonderful day, honey. It war like de great day ob 
de Lord's corain'. I neber seed anoder sech a day, unless" — 
and Father Parker leaned back in his chair and reverently 
closed his eyes with a serene smile of reminiscence — " unless 
it war de fus' day we celebrated Mister Linkum's 'mancipation 
proccolymation in Norfolk ; de fus' — day — ob January — 
eighteen — sixty-three." 

We had had to use a good deal of judicious pumping thus 
far, but, warming as the pleasant memory stole over him. 
Father Parker became fluent. 

" You see, honey, dey had a perc'ession, an' all de Union 
troops in Norfolk marched in it, an' a company from Fort Mon- 
roe, an' Gineral Butler rode in it himself, on a great black 
horse. An' all de colored people in Norfolk an' roun' walked 
in der percession, an' who did dey eome an' ask to head 'em, 
a ridin' in a carridge, wid de flag a flyin' ober him, but ol' Uncle 
Bill Parker himself ! Dat's me, honey ! An' I went, and 
headed dem colored people, a ridin' in dat yer carridge, a settin' 
back on dem yer cushions ! An' I sot back — so — an' lifded up 
my eyes, an' seed de Union flag a wavin' an' a wavin' ober my 
head — so — an' de music a playin', an' de people a shoutin', an' I 
■ said, ' O Lord ! can dis be me — ol' Bill Parker — slave forty 
year — a settin' back in dis yere carrj^ge, on dese yere cush- 
ions, wid de ol' flag a flyin' ober my head, a ridin' along at de 
head ob dis percession ob free men V An' I sot back !" 

Father Parker suited the action to the word, closing his eyes 
with an ineffable smile of satisfaction, as if he still heard the 
freemen's shout. 

It was a climax, and we rose to go. 

" And since then, you have not preached ' Servants, obey 
\w your masters,' Father Parker ?" 

" I preaches, honey, ' Stan' fas', derefore, in de liberty where- 
with my Jesus Christ hab make you free !' " 

" Good-night, Father Parker." 

"Good-night, honey." 



One of the noblest traits brought out in the negro's charac- 
ter by the stern disciphne of slavery is a marvelous sweetness 
of temper toward his old masters. It was amply illustrated in 
the times of his bondage, and has been nobly shown since his 
emancipation by the forbearing use of his rights and the pa- 
tient waiting for their enjoyment. 

An innocent little child once complained to me, " I caiit obey 
the commandment, ' Forgive your enemies,' for I haven't any 
enemies to forgive." The slave did not always lack that essen- 
tial to obedience, and in obeying he has gained his most enno- 
bling characteristic. His meekness has been called weakness, 
and so was Christ's. 

There is, to me, something inexpressibly touching in the 
simple way in which some of our older students have said to me 
— young men old enough to have drunk the bitter cup to its 
dregs — " I don't like much to talk up these things. I feel as if 
folks mightn't believe me, and then, if I think too much about 
them myself,' I can't keep feeling right, as I want to, toward my 
old masters. I'd do any thing for them I could, and I want to 
forget what they have done to me." 

This is as good philosophy as it is good Christianity, and I 
have no desire to dwell more than is necessary upon har- 
rowing experiences, the admitted possibility of which has 
doomed the system which allowed it to extinction and the 
world's curse. 

The following sketch, which was drawn with some difficulty 
from one of these silent sufferers, is one of special interest 


which will call forth the sympathy of both Northern and South- 
ern readers. It is the story of a gallant encounter with some of 
those cowardly, night-loving miscreants from whom Virginia 
has always been fortunately free — outlaws execrated by those 
who have a right to represent the South — ^.the Ku Klux Klan. 

K. K. K. 

(Names are suppressed or altered in this sketch by request of the 

" With the Ku Klux I certainly had a tolerable rough time. 
" My first school-teaching was as an assistant to a Mr. 

at Company's Shops. I did not know much more than to read 
and write, and I went to school nights also. After the Ku 
Klux whipped him, he went away, and then I left, and went 
to Caswell County, North-Carolina, after they ran me away, 
and commenced teaching another school.* After teaching 
there four or five months, they determined to break the school 
up, and put up a notice that I had to ' stop teaching that nigger 
school, and let them niggers go to work,' else they would hang 
me to a limb, and kill Johnson and bury him in the school-yard 
ground. Johnson was a colored man who had influence over 
the colored people, and did all he could to have their schools to 
continue, as I did myself He also had an influence over the 
elections, and gave them advice how they should vote. They 
were opposed to me on the account of my being a teacher and 
instructing my people. 

" When they sent out this notice, Johnson and myself fortified 
our doors. We had only two old swords in the house, but we 

* The demand for teachers among the freedmen after emancipation 
became at once so great that as soon as one of them knew how to 
read and write a little, he was beset with apphcations to impart his 
knowledge to others, and " Uncle Ned's school " is no mere fancy of 
the sculptor. 


were bent on staying in it, And I determined to carry on my 
school, because I knew it was a thing that should be done. 

" About two or three weeks after the notice, the Ku Klux 
came about midnight. They awoke us up by their screams 
and yells, and shooting through the door, and trying to knock 
it down. The door was so well fortified that they could not 
get it down. They then ceased shooting and yelling, and com- 
manded us to open the door, but we told them they had no 
business there that time of night, and that we had not done 
any thing — what did they want .^ 

" They again commanded us to open the door, saying they 
wanted us, and would have us. 

" When they saw we were not going to open the door, they 
commenced setting the house on fire. We, seeing that they 
determined to have us, and the house burning, we snatched up 
the two old swords, and opened the front door, expecting them 
to crowd in on us and take us by force, but we determined to 
stand up and fight as long as life lasted. Just as we opened 
the door, a very large man jumped at it. As he sprang, a 
sword was pierced through him, and he fell out. We shut the 
door again quickly. After the stabbing of this man, they 
became somewhat excited, and while they were taking care of 
the man that was stabbed, and setting the house on fire, we 
opened the back door and slipped out. As they saw us, they 
shot at us and ran us a good ways, but finally we reached the 
woods and escaped. 

" We staid in the woods until day and went home. I com- 
menced my school that morning just the same as nothing had 
not taken place, and taught all that week until out. Friday 
they came after us again. The way I did, I went into the 
woods after night to sleep, and came in of mornings, because 
after the first night, they determined to have us. Friday night 
I had some of my friends to stay in the woods with me. I was 
armed with a sword and the rest with guns. They came to the 
house about midnight, shooting and yelling, and we were down 
in the woods a few yards from the house. As they did not 


succeed in getting us, they tore every thing up they could get 
hold of, and then searched the wood for me. WJien they got 
near to me, I saw there were so many that I could not resist 
I spoke to the three other men that were with me, that we had 
better save our lives. Myself and two others escaped, but they 
killed the other friend. When I returned out of the wood the 
next morning, I saw him lying dead, very badly shot. 

" On Saturday I left, and have never been back since, though 
I held out as long as I possibly could. Then I went down into 
Johnson County and taught school, and studied of nights until 
I went to Hampton. 

" I feel as though I have had a hard time of it. It was all for 
the best. God only knows." 



A PLEASANT two miles' walk through the stragghng outskirts 
of Hampton, among the snarling curs that go round about its 
uncertain ways in the evening — pleasant, notwithstanding, for 
the glory of a June sunset, and the soft charm of a long Southern 
twilight — brought the self-constituted committee of investiga- 
tion to Harry Jarvis's isolated cabin. It was shut up for the 
night and dark at eight o'clock, but we had walked far, there 
was no other resting-place near, and, more than all, we had 
come with a purpose ; so, after a brief consultation, we decided 
to prove at least whether we had found the right place. 

Our rap at the door was followed instantly, as if by a bell- 
rope attachment, by a sharp r-r-r-row-ow-ow that seemed to 
come up out of the ground from some canine Atlas who had the 
house upon his shoulders, literally as well as figuratively. 

In another moment, we heard the scratching of a match and 
the shuffling of a boot inside, light twinkled through the chinks 
of the slabs, and a deep voice called, 

" Who dar T 

" Friends from the Normal School." 

"All right. I knows yer voice. Luf ye in d'rec'ly. Ah! 
Howdy ! Howdy ! Sht Gyp ! She can't get ye ; she'm fasded 
up un'er de step. Please to walk in." 

" I'm afraid we're intruding, Mr. Jarvis. It is late. We wouldn't 
have knocked, but we wanted to make sure whether we'd found 
your house, so as to come again. We'll step in and rest just a 
minute, thank you, if you were not going to bed." 

" Nuffin ob de sort, sah. Neber thought ob gwine to bed. 
You'll please to scuse me for der bein' no light. Loisa ben a 
puttin' de young uns to- sleep, an' I jes' sorter stretched my- 
self out to res' like, arter my work. Glad to see yer. Please 
take a seat." 

Our welcomer was a man in the prime of forty years ; perhaps 
the finest specimen of his race, physically, that I have ever seen. 


Over six feet in height, with close-knit, perfectly-proportioned 
frame, a well-set, shapely head, a Roman nose, and the eye of a 
hawk, he towered in his low-roofed cabin like a son of Anak. He 
might have been a model for a Greek chisel — the young Her- 
cules in bronze, or a gladiator ready for the imperial review. 

Even with the loss he had suffered of his right leg — nothing 
new for a Greek statue — he would have been formidable to en- 
counter if we had not been " friends," but the " patrols" whose 
midnight knock used to strike terror through black breasts in 
the dying days of slavery ; a terror some remnants of which 
still linger in instinctive fegrs, and account perhaps for the un- 
amiable retinue of yapping curs that help the freedmen enjoy 
their new privileges of liberty, and their share in the maxim 
that every man's house is his castle. 

After giving us chairs, our African prince seated himself 
only at our request, and, laying down his crutch, waited for us 
to begin the conversation, while the sounds from the next 
room — a dark alcove but half partitioned off from the rest of 
the cabin — proved that Loisa had not entirely suppressed the 
enterprising " young uns." 

"Mr. Jarvis, I had meant to ask you to repeat to my friend 
here, the story you told me the other day you were working at 
the school ; about your life on the Eastern shore, and your 
escape, you know." 

" Yes, yes, I knows ; neber'll forgit dat, nohow." 

"You had rough times there." 

" Well, I did so ! My marssa, he war de meanest man on all 
de Easte'n sho', and dat's a heap to say. It's a rough place. 
Dat yer Easte'n sho' 'm de outbeatinest part ob all de country 
fur dem doin's. Dey don't think so much ob deir niggers as dey 
do ob deir dogs. D' rather whip one dan eat any day." 

" Well, tell us how you escaped." 

"Dat war de fus' yeah ob de war, madam. It war bad 
enough before, but arter de war come, it war wus nor eber. 
Fin'ly, he shot at me one day, 'n I reckoned I'd stood it 'bout's 


long's I could, so I tuk to der woods. I lay out dere for three 

" Three weeks in the woods ! How did you live } How did 
you help being taken ?" 

" Couldn't get out no sooner, ye see, fur he had his spies out 
a watchin' fur me. He hunted me wid dogs fust, but I'd crost 
a branch, an' dey los' de scent, and didn't fin' it, an' den he sot 
his slaves all up an' down de sho', waitin' fur me to come out." 

" Would they have taken you T^ 

" Dey wouldn't a durs' not to, ef I had come out, but I had 
frien's who kep' me informed how t'ings war gwine on, an' 
brought me food. At las' he guv a big party for his birfday ; 
had his house full ob gen'lemen jus' like himself I knowed 
dey'd all be a drinkin' an' carousin' night an* day, an' all de sar- 
vants be kep' home, so I tuk de opportunity to slip down to 
de sho' in de night, got a canoe an' a sail, 'n started for Fort 

" Where did you get the canoe .''" 

" Stole it from a white man." 

" And the sail ?" 

" Stole dat from a nigger." 

" Oh ! — well — how far did you have to go .'"' 

" Thirty-five miles 'cross de bay, 'n when I got out o' shelter 
ob de sho', I struck a norther dat like to a tuk away my sail. 
Didn't 'pear as ef I'd eber get to Ian'." . 

" Were you not terribly afraid in that little boat .-'" 

" No, madam. You see it war death behind me, an' I didn't 
know what war ahead, so I jes' askded de Lord to take care ob 
me, an' by-am-by de win' went down to a good stiddy breeze 
straight fur Of P'int, an' I jes' made fas' de sheet 'n druv ahead, 
'n nex' mornin' I got safe to de Fort." 

" There you were all right, I suppose." 

" Well, dat war -fore Gin'ral Butler had 'lowed we war contra- 
ban'. I went to him an' asked him to let me enlist, but he said 
2/ warn t a black maiis war. I tol' him it wotildh& a black man's 
war 'fore dey got fru. He guv me work dough, an' I war gettin' 


on bery well, tell one day I seed a man giben up to his mars- 
sa datcome fur him, an' I 'eluded dat war not de place for me, 
so I hired on to a ship gwine to Cuba, an' den on one a-gwine to 
Africa, an' war gone near two year. When I landed in Boston, 
I foun' dat it had got to be a black man's war fo' suah. I tried 
to 'list in de 54th Massachusetts, Gin'ral Shaw's rigiment, but 
dat war jes' full. So I war one ob de fus' dat 'listed in de 55 th, an' 
I fowt wid it till de battle ob Folly Island. Dere I war 
wounded free times ; fust in dis arm, but I kep' on fightin' till 
a ball struck my leg an' I fell. I war struck once more in de 
same leg, an' I lay onde fiel' all night. I should have bled to 
death ef all our men hadn't been drilled in usin' a tourniquet, 
an' supplied wid bandages. I jes' had time to stick my knife 
in de knot an' twist it tight 'fore I fainted. When dey foun' 
me, dey was gwine to take my leg off, but dey said 'twarn't 
no use, I'd die anyway. But I didn't die, 'n war sent to a 
horspital. I war dar for six months, 'n my leg war bery bad, 
pieces ob de bone a comin' out. But I stood it all for to keep 
my leg, 'n at las' it got well, only a bit stiff. Den I come back 
to Hampton an' tuk dis little place, an' war doin' mighty well, 
but all ter wunst de woun' opened agin', an' I had to lose my 
leg arter all." 

" Didn't you feel like staying in Africa when you were there } 

" No, madam, I went 'shore in Liberia, an' looked about, but 
I 'eluded I'd rudder come home." 

" You had a strong attraction here, I suppose — a wife and 

" Well, I couldn't fotch my wife wid me from de Easte'n 
sho', I didn't want to risk her life wid mine ; but when I got 
back from Africa, I sent for her, an' she sent me word she 
thought she|d marry anoder man. Arter de war was ober, an' 
I'd got my place yere, she sen's me word her husban' is dead, 
but I tol' her she mout a kep' me when she had me, 'n I could 
get one I liked better, 'n so I have." 

The children having subsided, Loisa, becoming interested 
in the conversation, stood leaning against the lintel of the al- 


cove, near her husband's chair, and received his compliment at 
her rival's expense with a conscious smile. 

" Can you read, Mr. Jarvis ?" 

" No, I can't read much ob any. I'se worked a good deal at 
de Missionary, but I war too ol' to go to school. Loisa, she 
I'arned, an' she sot to teachin' me, but I couldn' I'arn nuffin' 
from hery 

" Is that your fault, Mrs. Jarvis, or your husband's .-*" 

"It's his, I reckon, ma'am," she answered with a giggle. "I 
c'd teach him ef he'd let me." 

" Well, 'tain't de thing fur a woman to be a teachin' her hus- 
ban' ; 'tain't accordin' to scriptur', 'n I don' approve ob. it no 
how !" 

This great principle of orthodoxy established, we turned to 
the remaining object of our visit. 

" Mr. Jarvis, we won't keep you up any longer now, but we are 
anxious to get hold of some plantation songs of a different kind 
from the spirituals ; some of those you used to sing at your 
work, you know ; at corn-huskings or on the water. If we come 
some other day, can you sing us some ?" 

" Not o' dem corn-shuckin' songs, madam. Neber sung, 
none o' dem serice I 'sperienced religion. Dem's wicked songs." 
" I have heard some of your people say something of that sort, 
but I didn't suppose they could all be wicked songs. Are there 
no good ones i*" 

" Nuffin's good dat ain't religious, madam. Nobody sings 
dem corn-shuckin' songs arter dey's done got religion." 

" So you have got religion, Mr. Jarvis. Well, that is a great 
thing to have." 

" So it am, madam. 'Twar a missionary lady a teachin' yere 
jes' arter de war dat led me to 'sperience it. I neber had 
t'ought much about my sins, no way, an' when she talk to me I 
tol' her I specked I warn't no more ob a sinner dan de mos' o' 
folks. But I meditated on it a heap, an' I see I war a mighty 
great sinner fo' suah, an' I felt mighty bad about it — couldn't 
eat nor nuffin' — tell one night de Lord he come an' tell me my 


sins war all forgiben, an' I got so powerful weak I could 
skursely stan'. An' den de glory come into my soul, an' I sot 
up a hollerin' an' a shoutin' so's I couldn't stop, an' inde morn- 
in' I went to tell Miss Smith, 'n I couldn't help a hollerin' 'n a 
shoutin'. 'Why, Jarvis, you'se gone crazy,' says she. She'd 
tol' me to get religion, an' when I done got it, jes' as she said, 
she fought I war crazy. Dat ar' war cur'ous ! But when you'se 
got de glory in your soul, you can't help a hollerin' 'n a shoutin'." 

" Then, as you have experienced religion, Mr. Jarvis, I sup- 
pose you have forgiven your old master, haven't you .'*" 

It was an unexpected blow. The glow died out of his face, 
and his head dropped. There was, evidently, a mental struggle. 
Then he straightened himself, his features set for an inevitable 

" Yes, sah ! I'se forgub him ; de Lord knows I'se forgub 
him ; but " — his eye kindled again as the human nature burst 
forth — " but I'd gib my oder leg to meet him in battle !" 

" Well, we'll talk about this another time, Mr. Jarvis. Good- 
night now." 

" Good-night, sah." 

The subterranean terrier gave us a parting salute, and then 
let us go to the other dogs. 



A DIMINUTIVE Hampton student, leaning delighted over a 
volume of natural history with colored illustrations which his 
teacher was showing him, pondered thoughtfully awhile over 
the picture of the monkeys, and then, turning his twinkling 
black eyes up to her face, said inquiringly, 

" Dey do say, Miss Deming, dat dem is old-time folks." 
I fancy that she did not add to his stray crumb of Darwinism 
a crusty hint of what further " dey do say " — some of dem — on 
the classification of folks in general, and his folks in particular. 
It would seem somewhat difficult indeed to set appropriate 
bounds to the progress of a race, one of whose genuine sons 
has been able to evolve as much in ten years' time from adverse 
fate as the author of our closing sketch, and the oration which 
follows it. 


" I was born a slave in 1853. My mother, with the assistance 
of my father, hired her time by washing clothes, Her children 
being too young for service, were allowed to stay with her. It 
would be just to say that these privileges, which were rare, 
were obtained from afamily through whose veins flowed Quaker 
blood — a race of people who always act with clemency. 

" During my slave-life I had a desire to learn to read, but did 
not have any one to teach me ; but, unexpectedly, and against 
the prevailing sentiment of the South, the youngest servants 
owned by my master were on Sunday evenings taken into his 
sitting-room, and there we would spend the afternoon learning 
the alphabet. I had an eager desire to learn, and bought 
myself a large book containing painted letters and pictures. 
This book I bought with a silver dime from my so-called mas- 
ter's store, and in it I learned over half of my letters. 


" Being familiar with the fact tliat war was approaching, I was 
cheered by the hope I should be able to read at no distant day. 
Well do I remember when the news was echoed from one end 
of the town to the other, ' The Yankees are coming !' They 
met a warm reception from the slaves. I had the privilege of 
seeing the first who came to our town in uniform. I often 
visited the soldiers, who were very kind to me. My uncle with 
twelve others ran the blockade and boarded a man-of-war. This 
action created a great sensation, as they were the first who had 
left their masters. Soon after this we all left. 

In the early part of 1863, I went to a school taught by a 
colored man. The studies taught were limited to reading 
and spelling. It seemed to me I would never learn to put 
letters together, and when I was put into words of two letters, 
I was willing to give up studying. I studied hard, and perse- 
vered till I could spell words of two syllables, when the school 
was given to an old man who was a soldier, who had been a 
teacher in the North, and was fully qualified for the position. 
The days I spent under him as a scholar are among the bright- 
est of my life. After he closed his school, the American Mis- 
sionary Association sent teachers South. They all took an 
interest in me, especially one, who would spend whole after- 
noons with me on my lessons. I made greater progress under 
her than under all the rest of my teachers, and loved her 

" Having been sent to school all this time by my father, and 
attained an age when I could be of some benefit to him, I 
thought it was no more than right that I should do something. 
I began to teach school about fifteen miles from home. Here 
I found difficulties that almost made me give up. I was placed 
among an ignorant people who I were to teach, and make some 
attempt, though small, to elevate ; while not many miles from 
where I was teaching a preceptor had been hung for instructing 
bis own race. When I went home on Saturday, I had to walk 
fifteen miles, and get back Monday to open school at nine 
o'clock. I continued my school for four months. I think I 


gave satisfaction; because they wanted me to teach again, but I 
took a school nearer home — only five miles off. To this I 
walked every morning — teaching six hours. I taught two 
sessions here, and enjoyed it very much, though it required 
considerable patience. In this way I helped my father to build 
a house, and sent my sister to the Hampton Normal School. I 
am now in the middle class of this school, where I trust to make 
myself a good and useful man, and become great in that from 
which true greatness only is derived." 



" Friends, one and all, we welcome you here to-day for 
the purpose of enjoying with us the laying of the corner-stone 
of this edifice. 

" This is an event that should fill our hearts with emotions of 
pride ; for here will be erected a system of buildings that will 
supply ample privileges to those who wish to become workers 
in the great field of usefulness that lies before us ; and provide 
those means by which thousands, directly or indirectly, are 
to be blessed with advantages for the procurement of knowledge. 

" We see to-day among us friends, true and zealous, from the 
different portions of our common country, observing for them- 
selves the work that has been done here, and that which re- 
mains to be done ere ignorance can be eradicated, and know- 
ledge diffused throughout this broad land. We feel an 
inexpressible pleasure in seeing those here who have done so 
much for the establishment of this institution ; who began this 
great work under adverse circumstances in the dark days of 
the past, but, feeling the great need of such an undertaking, 
and the good that could be accomplished, went forward with 
unlimited fervor in their Christian mission to gladden the waste 
places of the South, ' and to make the desert rejoice and blossom 


as a rose.' We trust they can now look back with pleasure., 
and feel that their labors have been blessed with success, that 
a work has been begun whose completion will solve the 
great problem of our capability of becoming a useful and 
elevated people. 

" We can only show our gratefulness to you by trying to make 
the best use of our time, and to prove by our actions that we 
know how to value the blessings imparted to us, and the 
avenues which are opened to us for moral, educational, and 
religious advancement. We ask a review of the past, willing 
that you should draw your own conclusions, but feeling ani- 
mated with the hope that they will be gratifying to us and 
encouraging to you. 

" We see among us to-day many natives of this sunny land, 
drawn by the wish to see for themselves' what we can do toward 
the accumulation of that which is power, and which will prepare 
us for the duties of life in their various forms. We greet you 
with a hearty welcome. We ask you, under the beautiful sun- 
light of this glad day, to enjoy with us this glorious occasion. 
It should fill our hearts with a joy that words fail to express, 
when we consider the worth of such institutions as this, and 
what they are doing toward alleviating the superstition and 
ignorance which are so prevalent among us, and diffusing light 
and knowledge to all, until not a single cabin throughout this 
Southern land shall contain an inmate who has not the elements 
of a common English education. This is a result that we may 
all hope and pray for, and at its arrival feel thankful to God that 
our eyes have seen the sight. 

" Our interests are so intimately connected with yours, and 
our general positions are in a great degree so similar, that this 
change must affect both races ; and if this be true, why not 
mutually unite for the attainment of an end whose consumma- 
tion will shed a lustre upon the land that no power can ever 
annihilate } Then will prosperity spread its welcome mantle 
over our land, and our minds and hearts will be irradiated by 
the everlastins: sunbeams of rehsfion and immortal truth. 


" To my colored friends, with whom I am identified, whose 
interest and advancement affect mine, and whose retrograding 
likewise, I am at a loss to express myself on behalf of my 
schoolmates in words most befitting this occasion. As I look over 
this assembly, composed largely of those who are sons of 
Africa's benighted millions, and attempt to comprehend that 
this great undertaking is for you, that you are to have the ben- 
efit of all this, my whole heart and mind are absorbed in the 
magnitude of the thought, and lost to a perception of the fact ; 
yet it is all true. 

" I know you can but feel grateful to God, and spontaneous 
thanks proceed from your hearts to him, and to those whom 
he has used as instruments in this great and good work for 
you. You have only begun, and are scarcely yet in the path- 
way by which you must attain that position in life which will 
qualify you for the duties that devolve upon you as citizens. 
You have a great work before you, one whose importance you 
have yet to realize, and the accomplishment of which eludes 
your imagination. 

" It is not the elevation of a few, but the raising of more than 
four millions of human beings, that we must work and pray for 
using every means in our power and improving our opportuni- 
ties in their various forms, if we hope to reach our destined 
end. Welcome, then, thrice welcome to the portals of science, 
whose doors fly wide for your entrance, whose treasures are 
opened for your perusal, and whose riches lie at your command ; 
enter and enjoy them without fear or molestation. 

" Let us unite our efforts, for with unity of spirit, of purpose, 
and of action alone can we make this country what it should be. 
Let labor be honored by all, for no nation can prosper without 
it. Let the elevating influences of religion, morality, temper- 
ance, and truth assume the places now occupied by vice and 
intemperance, and we shall yet see that a happy destiny awaits 
this country. Then we can look for reconciliation and welcome, 
peace and tranquillity. 

" When we all have been educated to that standard which will 


fit us to comprehend the great end of life, and so to conduct 
ourselves that our examples shall be worthy of imitation, we 
may feel that we have acquired that greatness which Napoleon 
well might envy. Let us assume life's great duties with earn- 
estness and zeal, and never feel that we have completed its 
mission until we shall be able to exclaim, like the prophet, 
' Break forth into joy — sing together, ye waste places of the 
South ; for the Lord hath comforted his people ; he hath re- 
deemed Jerusalem.'" 



A BIT of reminiscence of the early history of emancipation, 
cut from an old scrap-book, brings back to me with curious 
freshness the surprise with which such intelligence was at first 
received, even by the most enthusiastic and sanguine of the 
freedmen's friends. 

" Passing through a sally-port at Fort Hudson, a 
few days since, near that rugged and broken ground 
made memorable by the desperate charge of the col- 
ored regiments, June 14th, 1863, I met a corporal 
coming in from the outworks with his gun upon his 
shoulder, and hanging from the bayonet by a bit of 
cord a Webster's spelling-book. Already, hundreds 
in every regiment have learned to read and write. In 
almost every tent, the spelling-book and New Testa- 
ment lie side by side with weapons of war. The ne- 
groes fight and the negroes read." 

In the school and the cabin, I find still abundant witness to 
this early testimony. The impetus of the first enthusiasm for 
learning has not been lost, as we feared it would be. In the 
harder lines of self-sacrifice and manly effort, the negroes are 
still fighting their way out of that bondage of ignorance and 
degradation from which no proclamation could emancipate 
them. They eagerly accept what upward help they can get, and 
if none comes struggle on without it, as a colored preacher of 
Hampton, who keeps the Back River Light and walks the eight 
miles between his light-house and church every Sunday, was 
found by one of the normal-school teachers, struggling all by 
himself with the formidable outworks of an old Greek gram- 
mar, in the fond hope of being able, some day, to read his Tes- 
tament in the original. 

Such an itinerant teacher as a good newspaper is invaluable 
to those who can read. I find the Southern Workman in many 
of the cabins, and one of its subscribers gives an illustration 


of the general appreciation of it, with an unsophisticated eager- 
ness that is somewhat pathetic. He writes : 

"I have just bought a pece of Land and i Cow and one 
oxson, and I al so hav one Horse to make a Farm. I am now 
working out a Frame for my House, and to get my Head in 
order for bisness, it is my intrest to take your Paper. I like 
it so well that I would ^ like to hav it come every 2 weeks. If 
you could send it to me that way this Year I would be Glad to 
get at Eny Price. I have 7 names that wants to take the 
Paper every 2 weeks, but you must let me have it that way if 
you cant no other person, and let me know what it cost and I 
will send the pay." ' 

This economical suggestion of issuing a bi-weekly edition of 
a monthly paper just for one person, if we could not afford to 
for every body, has not been acted upon that I know of 

Among the applications for admission to the school are fre- 
quently touching appeals from persons evidently too old to 
receive practical benefit from its instructions. One such 
writes : 

" Dear Mr. President : I am poor an nedy for the want of 
somebody to Teach me. I am called to preach the Gospel in 
the World. While I am therein the World and I want som 
more Instruction. If you ill take me in that Schoold, I Will 
find myself ef you ill find me a Bead to sleep in." 

Those who feel themselves too old to begin the difficult 
work of learning to read will cheerfully undergo any sacrifice 
to send their children to school, and the young people them- 
selves exhibit the same spirit. It is evident in the sketches 
our students have drawn for you of their own lives, and in 
many more than I have room to give in full. One of them 
writes : 

" The chance of the slave was very limited, you know, to- 
ward obtaining, an education. I recollect I used to try and 
count a hundred. The way I did, I took a board and a piece 
of fire-coal, making marks one by one. At the surrender I 
could count fifty ; that was my improvement from the time I 


commenced up to the surrender. In the fall of 1866, the 
colored people started a little school, though they had rather a 
hard difficulty before they could start it. The outcry was that 
the negroes were rising. I went to school that fall and was 
very proud to go. Such a scene I had never witnessed before ; 
therefore, I made the best use of my time. The first week I 
learned the alphabet and commenced spelling and reading in 
the National Primer. I went to school some days and nights. 
I had to study hard, and tried to make all the progress I possi- 
bly could. I went to school till I got so I could read and write 
a little, then I had to stay home and wait on my sick father, 
but I went to night-school. I kept up studying my books, and 
then began to teach school, studying also nights. So you see 
this is the way I obtained what education I had before I came 
to Hampton." 

He has shown his appreciation and worthiness of his advan- 
tages since he came here, voluntarily rising an hour before the 
required time, all the cold winter mornings of last year, to gain 
extra opportunity for study. 

Another of our boys writes : 

" As soon as the schools commenced in our place, I went to 
school in the morning, while my brother went in the evening, 
until I learned to read. Then I had to stop and go to work, 
but I still kept trying to learn, and after a while got to go to 
school again by working mornings and evenings. Many nights 
I sat up till twelve o'clock over my lessons. In this way, I 
remained in school several months. Then I heard of the 
Hampton Normal School, and determined to try to go to it. 
My father said he was not able to send me, so I could not go 
that term, but I did not lose my determination to get an edu- 
cation. I saved all the money I could get, and got my friends 
to help me, so the next year I started for here. If I be suc- 
cessful in getting through here, I expect to spend the rest of 
my time in the elevation of my race." 

All last winter, which was an unusually severe one for Virgi- 
nia, one of our students, the son of the Greek student in the 


Back River Light-house, in spite of. lameness, walked sixteen 
miles, every day, in all weathers, over a rough road, for his 
schooling, and his sister bore him company. Our little stu- 
dent camp is pitched for its second winter, and cheerfully 
filled with those who know how to endure hardness as good 
soldiers in the struggle for education. Our girls, too, ought 
not to be left out in this testimony to their people's hunger 
and thirst after knowledge. Till Virginia Hall is finished, they 
are exhibiting an equal patience and courage in their dark and 
crowded barracks almost as shelterless as the tents. One of 
them writes, in a sketch of her life : 

" I feel that the Lord, who has been with me in my darkest 
hours of slavery, is none the less present in freedom, in trying 
to get an education. I work a while, and then go to school a 
while, and now I am able to teach, and have taught three 
years. I find pleasure in teaching, and think I shall choose 
that as my mission. I am extremely proud of the chance of 
coming to Hampton to fit myself for that end ; and I am 
trusting in Him who has led me hitherto, to help me on." 

And will He not, and should not we, help those who so 
patiently and heartily are helping themselves "i 

Some time after the opening of school in the fall of 1871, an 
applicant presented himself for admission whose unpromising 
appearance and great difficulty in passing the enterihg-exami- 
nation caused him to be rejected. Something unusually down- 
cast in his disappointed face attracted the notice of the princi- 
pal, and when inquiry was made as to his means for returning 
home, it was discovered that he had walked almost all the way 
from Russell County, Western Virginia, over sixty miles, and 
had no money to take him back, even in the same weary way. 
He had started with fifty-two dollars in his pocket, the results 
of a year's work in a blacksmith-shop, and to save this little 
hoard for his school bills, he shouldered his bundle of clothes, 
and crossed the mountains on foot into Virginia, walking forty- 
two miles to Marion, Here he took the train and came to 


Lynchburg, where he unfortunately missed a connection, and 
was obliged to spend the night at a hotel. While j^aying his 
bill the next morning, some pickpocket caught sight of his roll 
of money, and robbed him of all that he had but the fifty cents 
change returned him by the landlord. This crushing loss of his 
whole year's earnings did not turn him back. He got on the 
train, and went as far as his fifty cents would carry him — to Ivy 
Station, namely, between Petersburg and Suffolk — stopped here, 
and worked for eight days in a steam saw-mill, at one dollar a 
day, which he was able to get because he understood running the 
engine. Starting again with five dollars in his pocket instead 
of fifty, he walked the rest of the way to Norfolk, where he had 
to take the boat to Hampton. After hearing his story, no one 
had the heart to send him back, foot-sore and disheartened, to 
retrace his weary steps. He tells me, " When I found the 
General would let me stay, I determined to do the very best I 
could, both in working and studying." The farm-manager 
reports him as one of the most faithful of his hands ; he is 
doing a great part of the iron-work on the roof of Virginia 
Hall, and will graduate very creditably from the senior class 
this year. " The negroes fight, and the negroes read." 

The Hampton Students in the 


By H. W. L. 

The spirit of self-help in which the Hampton School was 
founded is carried into the plans for its future. The young 
men have been employed, to what extent has been found 
profitable, in the actual work of construction of the new 
building, and much of the necessary funds are won, directly or 
indirectly, by the personal efforts of the students. 

The idea of utilizing their wonderful musical talents for the 
good of their people had for years been a favorite one with 
the Principal, but the honor of first turning to account this 
peculiar power is due to Professor George L. White, of P'isk 
University, Tennessee, under the care of the American Mis- 
sionary Association. 

The exigencies of that important institution had induced 
Professor White, Musical Director, to attempt raising, by 
means of negro music, a fund to save the University from im- 
pending troubles, and, if possible, to improve and enlarge it. 
The world-renowned " Jubilee Singers" need no introduction. 
Their splendid campaign, under Professor White and Rev. G. 
D. Pike, District Secretary American Missionary Association, 
in America and England, makes a remarkable and creditable 
chapter in the history of the negro race. 


At Hampton no special effort had been made in this direc- 
tion, chiefly because of the great difficulty of finding a leader 
in all respects fitted for the peculiar demands of the under- 
taking. But, as is often the case, the hour that brought the 
supreme necessity brought also the man and the means to 
meet it. 

Mr. Thomas P. Fenner, of Providence, for some time pro- 
fessor in the Conservatory of Music there with Dr. Eben 
Tourjee, founder of the New-England Conservatory in Bos- 
ton, was introduced to General Armstrong by Dr. Tourjee 
as the best man he knew for the position, Mr. Fenner came 
to Hampton in June, 1872, to establish a department of music 
in the school, and survey the field with a view to the formation 
of a band for Northern work. He was quickly impressed with 
a conviction of the wonderful capabilities of this "American 
music," and entered into the labor of organizing the " Hamp- 
ton Students " with an enthusiasm and skill that brought them 
into the field ready for action within six months. While his 
extensive and varied experience in chorus practice and vocal 
training, as well as in band and orchestral music, makes him 
thorough in various branches of musical instruction, he is fitted 
for the more delicate task of developing this characteristic 
slave music in its own original lines, by the rarer qualifications of 
artistic taste, versatility, and tact, and these, in combination 
with his enthusiastic and Christian devotion to the cause, 
have in a very important sense secured the success of the 
enterprise. The peculiar strength of the Hampton Chorus 
is the faithful rendering of the original slave songs, and Mr, 
Fenner has been remarkably fortunate, while cultivating their 
voices to a degree capable of executing difficult German songs 
with a precision of harmony and expression that is delicious, 
in that he has succeeded in preserving to them in these old- 
time melodies that pathos and wail which those who have lis- 
tened to the singing on the old plantations recognize as the 
"real thing." 

Five hundred dollars were given by one who has often 


proved a friend in need to aid the company at the start. It 
was felt by the Principal that so great were the risks of the 
effort that without some special aid the campaign was too 
perilous a venture. At the right time came the donation, and 
the Hampton Students were launched upon their crusade for 

The Hampton Student Singers at first numbered seventeen. 
As they were all young, and, with one exception, entirely un- 
used to appearing before the public, it was necessary to take 
out a large chorus until experience should develop the most 
available voices. Those with whose faces you have become 
familiar in the concert-room, and by Mr. Rockwood's very suc- 
cessful photograph, and who have borne the burden of the 
campaign work, are, as many of you already know, the fol- 
lowing : 

Carrie Thomas, leading soprano. Miss Thomas is the only 
member of the company who is of Northern birth, as well as 
the only one who has had any previous experience of singing 
in public. Her home is in Philadelphia, and she was for a 
time under the instruction of Mrs. Greenfield, better known in 
the North as the " Black Swan." Miss Thomas is, like all the 
others, a regular member of the Hampton School, and expects 
to finish the course there. 

With four exceptions, all the rest of the company have 
lived in slavery ; they are : 

First and second sopranos : Alice M. Ferribee, from Ports- 
mouth, Va. 

Rachel M. Elliott, from Portsmouth, Va. Miss Elliott has just 
returned to the school to complete her course there. 

Lucy Leary, from Wilmington, N. C. Miss Lcary lived, be- 
fore the war (which left her without nearer relatives than 
cousins, one of whom is also a member of the company), in 
Harper's Ferry, where her father fell in the John Brown raid. 

Mary Norwood, from Wilmington, N. C. She is the only 
one of the young women besides Miss Thomas who has never 
been a slave. Miss Norwood has also returned to the school 


The above take the first or second soprano parts, as occasion 

Altos : Maria Mallette, from Wilmington, N. C. ; Sallie Davis, 
from Norfolk, Va. 

First Tenors : Joseph C. Mebane, from Mebanesville, N. C. ; 
Hutchins Inge, from Danville, Va. 

Mr. Inge is a graduate of the school, of the class of '72. He 
returned to pursue a post-graduate course, and was also em- 
ployed as dlerk in the Treasurer's office till he joined the singers. 

Whit T. Williams, from Danville, Va. 

James A. Dungey, from King Williams County, Va. 

Mr. Dungey was free born, but has always lived in the 
South. He also is a graduate of the class of '72, and has re- 
cently left the singers to take charge of a school. His father 
has been a member of the Virginia House of Delegates, 

Second Tenors : J. B. Towe, of Blackwater, Va. . 

William G. Catus, of Winton, N. C. Mr. Catus was pre- 
vented by illness from going Xo the photographer's with the 
rest of the class, but he has been a regular member of it until 
last summer, when he left to take charge of a school at New- 
some's Depot, Va. He was free born, but was bound out in 
childhood, and, like many of the free negroes in the South, 
endured all the evils of slavery but its name. 

First Basses : James H. Bailey, from Danville, Va. ; Robert 
H. Hamilton, from Philadelphia, where he has lived since 
the war. He was held as a slave in Louisiana and Mississippi 
until set free by the Union army. 

Second Basses : James M. Waddy, from Richmond, Va. ; 
John A. Holt, from Newburn, N. C. 

Most of the class have had no means of support but the 
labor of their hands. The young women worked in the laun- 
dry, kitchen, dining-room, and sewing-room. The men are 
chiefly farm-hands. Dungey .supports himself by shoemaking. 
Towe works at the forge, and Catus at the carpenter s bench. 
Waddy, who is, in summer, engineer of the hydraulic works at 


the " Old . Sweet Springs," Va., repairs machinery and does 
what plumbing is required. 

The changes indicated in the above list have been made 
only by the necessity of reducing the chorus to the smallest 
number consistent with its effectiveness, or the desire of the 
students to go on with their other pursuits. The class as a 
whole has worked faithfully and well, and while its members 
prefer that no more personal account of themselves should be 
given to the public, they all deserve honorable mention. Their 
voices are their own witness. They are all fresh, and have 
developed and improved greatly since their first public trial. 

The " Hampton Students " are all, as has been said, regular 
members of the school. Of the above-named, seven are 
Juniors, seven from the Middle Class, one from the Senior, 
and two are post-graduates. They take their school-books 
with them to improve what chances for study they can secure, 
and are anxious to get back to Hampton to finish the course of 
education that has been interrupted, willingly and conscienti- 
ously, for the good of their people. 

It is often asked, " Has not a constant appearance for many 
months before the public injured their characters or changed 
their tastes T We answer, there is, we think, in some cases, a 
slight injury, but, on the whole, they have, from first to last, 
behaved surprisingly well. School discipline has been kept up 
through all their wanderings ; the greatest care has been 
taken of their manners and morals, and their health ; a lady 
has always had charge of the girls, and the men have had Mr. 
Tenner's constant care. They all appear to be as loyal to 
right work as the students at Hampton, and most of them 
have turned to good account their many opportunities for ob- 
servation and information. 

Their severe and protracted effort, the absence of pecuniary 
stimulus, the genuineness and sincerity of their singing, and 
their high aim have reacted upon them happily. 

Perhaps they have not forgotten the words of one of Hamp- 
ton's and humanity's noblest friends, who said to them, "Your 


work is a religious one ; yoii can not tell how many hearts are 
touched or helped by your sweet music ; always pray before 
you sing." 

The story of their campaign must be very briefly told, and 
I have taken the outline of it from the notes regularly kept by 
themselves. They started upon it under the care of General 
Armstrong, who has gone with them over most of their routes, 
Mr. Fenner, their musical director, and Mrs. S. T. Hooper, of 
Boston, whose name is honorably known in connection with 
the Sanitary Commission of the late war, and in much of the 
benevolent work to which it has given rise, and who gene- 
rously consented to lend the prestige of her position and in- 
fluence to the enterprise by taking charge of the young 
women, as far as to New- York, after having carried through 
the labor of fitting them out for the expedition, at the school 
where she was visiting at the time. Her place with the class 
has since been occupied by different ladies. 


FEBRUARY, 1873. 

i^th. Washington, D. C. Lincoln Hall. 
\Zth. Washington, D. C. Lincoln Hall. 
\()th. Washington, D. C. Lincoln Hall. 

z^d. Philadelphia. Dr. Hawes's Church (Presbyterian). Collection. 
25/^. Philadelphia. Horticultural Hall. 

27/^. Philadelphia. Dr. Warren's (M. E.) Church. Collection. 
i^th. Philadelphia. Horticultural Hall. 

" We started from Hampton, a cold and rainy evening, on the 
13th of February, for Washington, D. C, where we gave our 
first concert, in Lincoln Hall, on the 15 th. We were hospitably 
entertained in Washington at Howard University, by the kind- 
ness of General O. O. Howard. On the morning of the 15th, 
after rehearsing our prograrnme for the evening in the Hall, 
we were taken to the President's mansion, by his invitation. 
President Grant received us in the East Parlor of the White 


House, where we sang for him and his family a few of our 
plantation melodies, with which he seemed much delighted. 
He made a few very encouraging remarks to us, wishing us 
all possible success. General Armstrong told him something 
about our school, and introduced us to the President, who 
kindly shook hands with each of us. We were then shown the 
State apartments in the White House, and also visited the 
Treasury Department. In the evening our first concert came 
off quite well. We had quite a full house, considering the 
inclemency of the weather. 

"Feb. lytk. We visited the national Capitol, and saw those 
grand pictures and sights which I had never seen before. Up 
in the dome we sang ' The Church of God ' and ' Wide River,' 
to see how it would sound. The effect was much greater than 
we had expected, and many people gathered below in the 
rotunda and applauded us. . ' 

"Feb. i2,t/i. Our second concert came off nicely. The house 
was about six-eighths full, and everybody seemed pleased with 
the performance." 

One more concert, which was still more encouraging in num- 
bers and enthusiasm, closed the first series in Washington, 
and the company started hopefully upon their Northern tour. 

The rest of the month was passed in Philadelphia, where the 
reception was fair, and the comments of the press very favorable, 
as indeed they have very generally been. The warm and gen- 
erous friends whom the school already possessed in Philadel- 
phia made the students' stay there pleasant. Their quarters in 
Market street — the old Wistar residence — were supplied them 
by the kindness of Mr. A. M. Kimber, and were furnished with 
necessary comforts chiefly by the ladies of Germantown. 
Here they received many pleasant visits and favors, of some of 
which one of them writes : 

" This has been a day to be remembered by the Hampton 
Students for years to oome. Miss Mary Anna Longstreth. 
through the kindness of Providence, met the class and present- 
ed each one of us with a text-book containing a text for each 


day in the year, after which we all kneeled in jDrayer, Miss 
Longstreth invoking the kind protection of our Saviour over 
us in a truly heartfelt petition." 

The class also received several kind invitations. Delightful 
evenings were thus spent at Rev. Dr. Furness's and Mr. Sam- 
uel Shipley's, where they were cordially received and bounti- 
fully entertained. On the 24th they were glad to have an 
opportunity of doing a kindness by singing for the children at 
the Soldiers' Orphan Asylum. 


\st. Philadelphia. Horticultural Hall Matinee. 
■^d. Philadelphia. Central Congregational Church. Concert. 
Afth. Philadelphia. Dr. Furness's Church. Concert. 
Ith. Philadelphia. Athletic Hall. 
6th. Germantown. Association Hall. 
']th. New-York. Steinway Hall. 

(^th. New-York. Dr. Burchard's (Presbyterian) Church. Collec- 
tion taken. 
loth. New-York. Fourth-ave. Presbyterian Church (Dr. Crosby's). 
wth. New-York. Steinway Flail. 
\&,th. New-York. Steinway Hall. 
\^th. New-York. Union League Hall. Matinee. 
\(yth. New-York. West Twenty-third street Presbyterian Church. 

\Zth. Bridgeport (Ct.). Opera House. 

loth. New-York. Dr. Rogers's (Reformed) Church. Concert. 
■zist. New-York. All Souls Church (Dr. Bellows's). Concert. 
22^. New York. Union League Hall. Matinee. 
23^^. New-York. Dr. Anderson's (Baptist) Church. 
23^. New-York. Memorial Church (Dr. C. S. Robinson's). Col- 
•Zd^h. New-York. Steinway Hall. 

* The largest church contributions made in aid of the Hampton Students' 
undertaking were those of the Memorial Presbyterian Church, New-York, 
Rev. C. S. Robinson, D.D., pastor, which was $485.00, cash ; and of the Uni- 
tarian Church. Dorchester, Mass., Rev. Dr. Hall, pastor, which was $422.00 in 
cash, and $280.00 in pledges ; in all, $702.00. 


T]th, New-York. Steinway Hall. 

29//z. New- York. Union League Hall. Matinee. 

■}pth. New-York. Church of the Messiah (Dr. Powell's, Unitarian) 

31 j/. Brooklyn, Lafaj'^ette Avenue Presbyterian Church (Dr. Cuy- 

ler's). Concert. 

In this month, the students also sang for the children of the 
Industrial School, and of the Colored High School, under the 
superintendence of Miss Fannie Jackson. They also had a 
pleasant entertainment in Germantown, at the house of Mr. 

On the 7th they left Philadelphia for New-York, where they 
boarded — as they have always done in that city — at the com- 
fortable and well-kept house of Mr. Peter S. Porter, at 252 
West Twenty-sixth street. On the evening of their arrival, 
they gave their first New-York concert, in Steinway Hall, to a 
fair house.' On Sunday, the 9th, they attended Dr. William 
Adams's church, on Madison Square ; and Dr. Adams, recog- 
nizing them, gave them a most kindly welcome, and invited 
them to sing to the children of the congregation, whom he was 
about to address, introducing them with a few touching words 
which brought tears to many eyes besides his own. In the 
evening they sang to a crowded audience, and a collection was 
taken for them at the church of Dr. Samuel Burchard, who had 
been the first to ofier them this favor, as he had to the Jubilee 
Singers who had preceded them. 

On Monday evening, March loth, the students gave a pri- 
vate concert to the clergymen of the city. The audience 
resolved itself, at the close, into a business meeting, and the 
following record of its proceedings, taken from one of the jour- 
nals mentioned, will speak for itself: 

Resolutions adopted by the Clergymen of New- York, at a 
Private Concert given before them March loth, 1873, by the Hamp- 
ton Students, in the lecture-room of Dr. Crosby's church, on 
Fourth Avenue. Published in the New-York Evangelist, Observer, 
etc. : 

"At the close of the concert. Rev. Dr. Crosby being called 


to the chair, remarks expressive of great satisfaction were made ^ 
by Rev. Dis. Rogers, Ormiston, Cheever, Bellows, Robinson, 
and others ; and a committee, consisting of Drs. Prime, Bur- 
chard, and Bellows, was named to prepare resolutions. They 
reported the following, which were unanimously adopted : 

^^ Resolved, ist. That the eminently wise and practical policy 
pursued by General Armstrong and his supporters in the 
Hampton Institute recommends that institution specially to 
those who see a problem of most obvious political and religious 
interest in the state of the Southern freedmen, 

" Resolved, 2d. That we have heard with great delight the 
songs of these pupils, and cordially commend them and their 
object to the sympathy and support of the people of New-York, 
and especially of pastors and churches." 

The effect of this cordial indorsement, which has ever since 
been continued by the clergymen of New-York, was apparent 
at once. 

The remainder of the New- York concerts were successful. 

To continue my extracts from the Students' journal : 

''March i^th. We were invited to the house of Rev. Dr. 
Bellows, where we sang to his family and some invited guests, 
and had a very pleasant time. We went from his house to 
take the cars for Bridgeport, Ct., where we gave a concert 
in the Opera House, which was crowded, and we received 
hearty applause. The next day we returned to New- York, and 
visited the Central Park, where we saw all kinds of wild ani- 
mals, from the huge elephant down to the small wren. 

"March 2$th. We were invited to sing in Brooklyn at the 
house of Mr. Robert C. Ogden, where a large party was given, 
composed of about a hundred and fifty of the first gentlemen 
of the city. Among the guests was General O. O. Howard, of 
the Freedmen's Bureau, who made an address about our school. 
We sang some of our plantation melodies, closing with 'John 
Brown's Body lies a-moldering in the Grave,' and went home 
much pleased with our visit. 


" March 2'jth. Our concert at Steinway Hall was a very good 
one, and the audience seemed to enjoy it hugely. The Fisk 
Jubilee Singers were present, and after the concert came to 
the anteroom to see us." 

This first meeting of the two companies was a pleasant inci- 
dent of the evening. The last occurred a few evenings later, 
at the farewell concert of the Fisk Singers, who were on the 
eve of their departure for Europe ; and they enjoyed a social 
sing together before exchanging their good-bys and good 
wishes, which have been so brilliantly fulfilled for the Jubilee 

The notices of the city press were exceedingly favorable and 
kindly. Among others, the very full and discriminating arti- 
cles of Rev. Dr. T. L. Cuyler in the New-York Evangelist, 
and Mr. W. F. Williams in the New-York Weekly Review and 
Evening Post, were , of great value. The excellent notices of 
the Times, World, Tribune, Herald, and other papers, were used 
with good effect through the whole of the campaign following. 


id. Elizabeth, N. J. Library Hall. 
^tk. Brooklyn. Academy of Music. 
dth. New-York. Dr. Burchard's Sunday-School. Collection 

2>th. New-York. West Twenty-third street Presbyterian Church. 

io/>^. Jersey City. Tabernacle. 

wth. Newark. Association Hall. ^ 

i2th. Brooklyn. Academy of Music. 
14/A. Englewood, N. Y. 
x'^fk. New-York. Association Hall (benefit of Colored Orphan 

lyik. New-York. Churchof the Disciples (Dr. Hepworth's). Con- 
iB>th. Stamford, Ct. Seeley's Hall. 
2otk. Boston. Rev. E. E. Hale's church. 
2ist. Boston. Tremont Temple. 
231a?'. Boston. Tremont Temple. 


26th. Boston. Tremont Temple. Matinee. 

27ih. Charlestown. Winthrop Church. Collection taken. 

22>tk. Jamaica Plain. Town Hall. 

29M. Brookline. Town Hall. 

30M. Chelsea. Academy of Music. 

" Apj'il 'jth. Part of the class visited the Rev, Dr. Garnett, 
and spent an hour at his house very pleasantly. 

^' April i^th. After our concert for the Colored Orphans' 
Home, which was well attended, we went by invitation to the 
jiJiouse of Mr. W. F. Williams, musical critic on the ^V. Y. 
Evening Post, and leader of the boy- choir in Dr. Tyng's 
church. We were hospitably entertained, and had the pleasure 
of hearing his choir rehearse, and of singing to them. They 
did themselves great credit. 

^' April i6t/L By the kindness of Miss Magie, a friend of 
the school, we enjoyed a ride around Central Park. It was 
very pleasant indeed. 

" April I Zth. We left New-York for Boston, stopping on 
the way to give a concert at Stamford. We took the night- 
express from Stamford, due in Boston at 6.30 next morning. 
About four in the morning, a cry of ' Danger ! Fire !' was heard, 
and our train was stopped just in time to prevent the probable 
loss of all on board. God, in his infinite mercy, spared, our 
lives, though the train, only ten minutes ahead of us, whose place 
ours would have had but for a small delay, dashed through a 
broken bridge, and carried many souls into eternity without a 
moment's warning. Our train was detained by the accident 
about seven hours. 

" Our concerts in Boston were very successful. We also sang 
in Park st. Church, taking the place of the choir, for the North- 
End Mission School, and before the Preachers' Meeting in the 
Wesle}'an Chapel. We sang too for the inmates of the Insane 
Asylum at Somerville, who gave us rounds of applause. We 
were kindly entertained at Mrs. Baker's, in Dorchester, and by 
Mr, Ropes, of Boston, and Mrs. Wendell Phillips, for whom 
we sans:." ' 



2d. Salem. Mechanics' Hall. 

id. Boston. Music Hall. (Fair of All Nations, benefit of Y. M.C. A.) 

4/^. Woburn, Mass. Congregational Church. Collection taken. 

i^th. Haverhill, Mass. City Hall. 

6//i. Newburyport, Mass. Town Hall. 

^th. Boston. Tremont Temple. Matinee. 

Uh. Portland, Me. City Hall. 

9//z. Portsmouth, N. H. Temple Hall. 

\Uh. Boston. HoHis st. Church, Dr. Chaney's. Collection. 
wth. Newtonville. Dr. Wellman's Church. Collection. 
\2th. Providence, R. I. Music Hall. 

13//^. Whitinsville, Mass. Congregational Church. Concert. 
i&fth. Worcester, Mass. Mechanics' Hall. 

\^th. Boston Highlands. Winthrop st. M. E. Church. Concert. 
i6th. New-Bedford, Mass. Liberty Hall. 
i^th. Boston, Mass. Tremont Temple. Matinee. 
\Zth. Charlestown, Mass. Trinity M. E. Church, Collection. 
2oth. East Abington, Mass. Phoenix Hall. 
2\st. North Bridgewater, Mass. Music Hall. 
2ld. Lowell, Mass. Huntington Hall. 
25//^. Dorchester, Mass. Congregational Church (Dr. Mean's). 

26//z. Chelsea, Mass. Academy of Music. 
Tjth. Salem, Mass. Mechanics' Hall. 
2Zth. Cambridge, Mass. Harvard Square (Unitarian) Church, 

2()th. Worcester, Mass. Mechanics' Hall. 
loth. New-Bedford, Mass. Liberty Hall. , 

In this month, the students also sang in the Bromfield st. 
M. E. Church before the Freedmen's Aid Society, and before 
the annual meeting- of the American Missionary Association 
in Tremont Temple. They kept their head-quarters in Boston, 
making excursions into the country from there. These tours 
were fairly successful. At Whitinsville, they were lodged very 
hospitably in private houses. The class was also pleasantly 
entertained at various times by Miss Abbie May, Mrs. Geo. 
Russell, Mrs. S. T. Hooper, and Mrs. Augustus Hemenway, of 



\st. Boston. 1st Baptist Church, Dr. Neal's. Collection. 

id. Fall River, Mass. ' Association Hall. 

3^. Taunton, Mass. Music Hall. 

4///. A.M. Wire Village, Mass. Methodist Conference. Collection 

£^th. P.M. Foxboro, Mass. Town Hall. 

t^th. Lexington, Mass. Town Hall. ^ 

6th. Maiden, Mass. Town Hall. 

8/>^. Boston. Tremont St. M. E. Church. Collection. 

<)th. Concord, N. H. Phoenix Hall. 

\oth. Manchester, N. H. Music Hall. 

II//Z. Nashua, N, H. City Hall. 

\2.tJi. Quincy, Mass. Town Hall. 

vi^th. North Bridgewater, Mass. 

\Z)th. Jamaica Plain, Mass. Unitarian Church (Mr. Clark's). Col- 

\6th. Franklin, Mass. Congregational Church. Concert. 

I'jtJi. Fall River, Mass. First Baptist Church. Concert. 

lith. Andover, Mass. Town Hall, 

\()th. Newton, Mass. Elliott Church. Concert. 

loth. Waltham, Mass. Rumford Hall. 

izd. Arlington, Mass. Congregational Church (Dr.Cady's). Col- 

i-^d. Manchester, N. H. Music Hall. 

24///. Concord, N. H. Phoenix Hall. 

2^th. Medway, Mass. Sanford Hall. 

26/^. Gloucester, Mass. Town Hall. 

I'jth. East Attleboro, Mass. Congregational Church. Concert.. 

i<)th. Boston. Bowdoin square Baptist Church. Collection. 

■}pth. Lawrence, Mass. Town Hall. 

In June, as the above table shows, the students worked very- 
hard, singing every night, with only three or four exceptions. 
This incessant labor was pleasantly relieved by social visits at 
the houses of Mr. B. W. Williams, at Jamaica Plain, and 
Governor Claflin, at Newtonville. The concerts this month 
were quite successful. At Franklin and Medway, the students 
were entertained at private houses. It is pleasant to acknow- 
ledge the generous and most complimentary notices of the 


Press throughout New-England, and especially in Boston. 
They have often been quoted most advantageously to our 


On the 1st of July, the Hampton Students left Boston for 
Stockbridge, Mass., and in this quiet old town, among the 
Berkshire hills, went into summer quarters. An old-fashioned 
but comfortable farm-house of Revolutionary date was rented 
for them, and they did their own housework. A teacher was 
secured, and they took up their studies again with as much 
regularity as was consistent with needful rest and exercise. July 
and August and most of September were thus spent in well- 
deserved relaxation from the labors of the finished campaign 
and in preparation for the next. During the whole time, they 
gave about twenty concerts in Berkshire county, by which they 
paid all the summer expenses, and cleared about ^800 over 
them. They also sang for an entertainment at Mr. David 
Dudley Field's, in Stockbridge, and at a private concert 
arranged for them by a lady from Boston who was spending the 
summer in Lenox. Several excursions, one of them to the 
central shaft of the Hoosac tunnel, and several pleasant visits, 
were made during the summer ; and at the beautiful home of 
Mr. Alexander Hyde, in Lee, and at Miss Williams', in Stock- 
bridge, they were kindly entertained. A pleasant surprise 
party was also given them by the colored residents of the 
neighborhood, and they had a grand picnic a't Stockbridge 
Lake, at which nearly thirty representatives of the Hampton 
School were present. 

A tabular statement of the work of July, August, and Sep- 
tember — part of the last month belonging to the fall cam- 
paign — is given below : 

^h. Kent, Ct. 
i^th. Lenox, Mass. 
i()th. Pittsfield, Mass. 
3U/. Stockbridge, Mass. 



\st. Lee, Mass. 

6///. Great Barrington, Mass. 

7//^. Lenox, Mass. 
\^th. Housatonic, Mass. 
2\st. Salisbury, Ct. 
25///. South-Adams, Mass. 
26th. Williamstown, Mass. Matinee. 
26//^. P. M., North-Adams, Mass. 
29^/2. Lee, Mass. 


\st. Lenox, Mass. ' 

id. Great Barrington. Mass. 

£fth. Stoclcbridge, Mass. 

8//z. New-Marlboro, Mass. 

\oih. West-Stockbridge, Mass. 

\2th. Winsted, Ct. 

i6//i. Canaan Valley, Ct. 


22d. Westfield, Mass. 

23c/. Holyoke, Mass. 

2^th. South -Hadley, Mass. Matinee. 

2^tk. East-Hampton, Mass. Concert. 

2^th. Belchertown, Mass. 

26ih. Amherst, Mass. 

27tk. Old Hadley, Mass. 

29M. Northampton, Mass. 

2)Oth. Greenfield, Mass. 


On the 23d of September, the Hampton Students left Stock- 
bridge, and started upon their fall campaign, giving concerts 
every evening for the remainder of the month. The summer's 
rest and rehearsals had told upon their voices, and their marked 
improvement was everywhere noticed. They entered with 
fresh zest upon their work. 

" At South Hadley," writes one of the class, " we visited and 
dined at the Mt. Holyoke Female Seminary. Here we were 
treated with all the respect and had all the attention paid to 
us that could be wished or desired. Indeed, one wouldn't 


think that he was colored unless he happened to pass before a 
mirror, or look at his hands. At Greenfield, we were enter- 
tained, after the concert, at the house of Rev. Mr. Moore." 


1st, Shelburne Falls, Mass. 

id. Ludlow, Mass. 

3^. Spencer, Mass. 

(ith. Boston, Mass. Tremont Temple. 

']th. Lynn, Mass. 

8///. Boston, Mass. Tremont Temple. 

(jth. Salem, Mass. 

i\th. Jamaica Plain, Mass. 

izih. Dorchester, Mass. Unitarian Church (Rev. Mr. Hall's). Col- 

13//^. Worcester, Mass. 

\\th. North-Brookfield, Mass. 

\^th. Hartford, Ct. 

\6th. Meriden, Ct. 

\']th. New-Haven, Ct. 

\%th. New-London, Ct. 

\(^th. New-London, Ct. M. E. Church. Collection. 

10th. Norwich, Ct. 

■zist. Providence, R. L 

■zid. New-Bedford, Mass. 

231^. Foxboro, Mass. > 

24//?. Taunton, Mass. 

25^'^. Middleboro, Mass. 

'Z']th. Pawtucket, Mass. 

iZth. North-Attleboro, Mass. 

29/72. Fall River, Mass. 

■yith. Newport, R. L 

list. Providence, R. L 

The financial panic which fell like a frost upon the country 
in these beautiful autumn days, making them the saddest of 
the year to so many, affected the interests of the Hampton 
Students of course, and very seriously. They were, however, 
among friends, and at the places where they were known had 
sometimes good audiences still. The weather was almost con- 


stantly propitious, and they worked hard, singing nightly, with 
but four exceptions in the month. They sang twice at Provi- 
dence to very good houses, though the second evening was that 
of the Black Friday of Rhode Island, signalized by the failure 
of the Spragues. Their concerts at New-Bedford and New- 
port were crowded and enthusiastic. At Ludlow and North- 
Brookfield, they were kindly taken care of at private houses. 
At Newport they paid an interesting visit to Col. Higginson, 
the well-known author of " Oldport Days." They were also 
kindly entertained by several friends of the school and of the 
freedmen ; Mrs. Wm. Johnson, in New-Haven, Mrs. Richmond, 
at Providence, and Mr. Jackson, of Middleboro. They sang 
also for the inmates of the Insane Asylum at Hartford, and for 
the State Reform School for boys, in Meriden, Ct., under the 
charge of Dr. Hatch. 


\st. Worcester, Mass. Matinee. 

7.d. Boston, Mass. Union Congregational Church (Dr. Parson's). 

3^. Wellesley, Mass. 

\th. Lynn, Mass. 

t,tk. Randolph, Mass. 

dth. Brookline, Mass. 

Tth. Newton, Mass. 

Zth. Boston, Mass. Music Hall. 
loth. Andover, Mass. 
11///. Gloucester, Mass. 
12///. Marlboro, Mass. 
13///. South-Manchester, Ct. 
\\th. Glastonbury, Ct. 
15///. New-Britain, Ct. 
iTth. Winsted, Ct. 
\Zth. Waterbury, Ct. 

\^th. New-York. Packer Institute. Concert. 
-zoth. New-York. Steinway Hall. 
list. New- York. Steinway Hall. 

2ld. New-York, West Twenty-third street Presbyterian Church 
(Dr. Northrop's). Collection. 


za^h. New-York. Steinway HalL 

ibth. Elizabeth, N. J. 

I'jtfi. Philadelphia, Pa. Academy of Music. 

iZth. Harlem, N. Y. Congregational Church. Concert. 

29//Z. New-York. Union League Hall. Matinde. 

30/^. Brooklyn. City Park Sunday-school. 

30//^. Brooklyn. Dr. Budington's Church — Congregational. Col- 

30/A. Brooklyn. Rev. Henry Ward Beecher's, Plymouth Church. 

The head-quarters of the company during this month were 
in the cities of Boston and New-York, from which were made 
short excursions among the neighboring towns. The concert 
in Music Hall, Boston, on the 8th, was given in aid of the 
Memphis sufferers from yellow fever. That at Gloucester was 
their second appearance there, and the house was crowded. 
At South Manchester, they had a very hospitable and generous 
reception by the Messrs. Cheney, whose extensive and widely- 
known American Silk Works make up this model manufactur- 
ing village. From here the party was taken in carriages to 
Glastonbury, Ct., where they were entertained at private 
houses, among others at that of Miss Abbie and Miss Julia 
Smith, warm friends of the school and the cause, who pleasantly 
said that the coming of the Hampton Students had brought 
them the day of jubilee to which they had looked forward in 
the stormy days of early abolitionism. 

On Thanksgiving-day, the students sang in Philadelphia, 
returning the same night to New-York. At their concert in 
Harlem, on the 28th, they were very warmly received in the 
Rev. Mr. Virgin's church, and a voluntary contribution was made 
them by the audience, in addition to the purchase of tickets. 
Sunday the 30th was spent delightfully in Brooklyn, in visiting 
the interesting City Park Sunday-school, of which Mr. Robert 
C. Ogden is superintendent, and singing there and at Dr. Bud- 
ington's^ church, where a praise meeting had been arranged' 
for their benefit. In the evening, they attended Plymouth, 
Church, and sang several of their touching hymns by request 


of Mr. Beech'er, who said that they had assisted the effect of 
his sermon. 

They were entertained in this month at Mrs. Benedict's 
house, in Waterbury, Ct., and by Mr. W. F. WilHams, in New- 
York, whose boy choir sang for them. 


\st. Brooklyn. Academy of Music. 

2d. Jersey City, N. J. 

id. Williamsburgh, L. I. 

4///. Newark, N. J. 

dth. Poughkeepsie. Vassar College. 

Tth. Poughkeepsie. Churches of Rev. James Beecher (Congre- 
gational), Rev. F. B. Wheeler (Presbyterian), Rev. Mr. 
Lloyd (M. E.) 

%th. Rondout, N. Y. 

9///. Poughkeepsie, N. Y. 
wth. Westchester, Pa. 
X'lth. Camden, N. J. 

i^th. Philadelphia, Pa. Central Congregational Church, Collec- 
15/7^. Trenton, N. J. 
]6//z. Wilmington, Del. 
i^th. Vineland, N. J. 
18^/2. Bridgton, N. J. 

\()th. Philadelphia, Pa. Dr. Furness's church. Concert. 
20th. Wilmington, Del. 
7.2d. Germantown, Pa. 
23^. Baltimore, Md. 

JANUARY, 1874, 

23^. Hampton, Va. Normal School Assembly Room. Musical 
entertainment to invited guests. 

30//;. Hampton, Va. Bethesda Chapel. Benefit proffered by citi- 
zens of Hampton, Old Point, and Fortress Monroe. Hampton, Va, National Asylum for Volunteers, Musical 
entertainment for the veterans. 


FROM students' JOURNAL. 

" December \st. Another stormy night, as usual, for our 
Brooklyn concert. 

" On the 6th, we went to Poughkeepsie, where we were en- 
tertained at private houses for two nights. A visit having been 
arranged for us at Vassar College, we took dinner there, and 
then gave a short concert in the chapel to the four hundred 
young ladies, and then took tea, after being shown many things 
of interest. It is needless to say that it was a delightful visit. 
The students seemed pleased with our singing, and we were 
delighted with what we saw. The students gave a large con- 
tribution to our school (;^i5o). On Sunday, we sang in three 
churches, Mr. James Beecher's, Mr. Wheeler's, and Mr. Lloyd's. 

" On Monday, we sang in Rondout to a very good audience. 
The next day returned to Poughkeepsie and gave our concert. 
It was very well attended, and the people seemed well pleased. 
On Wednesday, we took leave of our friends in Poughkeepsie, 
feeling very grateful to them and to a kind Providence for the 
kindly manner in which they had received and kept us during 
our stay. 

" On December nth, we arrived at Philadelphia, from New- 
York, and the same evening sang at Westchester, Pa." 

The head-quarters of the class for the next fortnight were at 
Philadelphia. Besides the concerts named in the list, thev sang 
for the inmates of the Philadelphia House of Refuge. They 
were kindly entertained at Rev. Dr. Furness's house in Phila- 
delphia, and Mr. Kimber's in Germantown. 

On the 23d, they left Philadelphia for Hampton, giving a 
concert at Baltimore, on the way, to a small but very enthusias- 
tic audience. They reached home on the morning of the 25th 
in time to share the Christmas festivities with their school- 
mates and teachers, from whom they had been separated for ten 
months. The day was one of rejoicing for all. 

During the last six weeks, they had worked incessantly, sing- 
ing every night, but much of the time not even paying ex- 


penses. The panic was not only fatal to their concerts, but 
threatened serious embarrassment to the school. After such an 
experience, the sight of " Old Point Comfort " was as welcome 
as to the pioneers of English civilization after a rough Atlantic 

After the holidays were over, they took up study and work 
with their classes as far as seemed best for them, slipping into 
their old places with a simplicity and zest that have showed 
them unspoiled by their year's experience, while the marked 
improvement in their voices, and in many other respects, is very 
evident to their friends at home. 

They have spent the remainder of December and the whole 
of January in quiet. The only concerts which have been given 
are a private entertainment in the School Assembly Room, 
to the invited citizens of Hampton, and the officers from Fort- 
ress Monroe, and a benefit concert tendered by them to the 
students in aid of the Building Fund, which was given at Be- 
thesda Chapel, on January 30th, to a crowded and enthusiastic 
house. The letter offering this courtesy, I give below, as a 
pleasant and welcome example of the kindly appreciation in 
which the school is held by its neighbors. It was signed by 
nearly all of the principal citizens of Hampton, and from the 
Fort. I have room, for only a few of the representative names: 

" To Gen. J. F. B. Marshall : 

" Sir : The citizens of Hampton, Old Point, and vicinity, de- 
siring in some way to show their appreciation of the work now 
being done in the cause of education by the officers and teach- 
ers connected with the P^ampton Normal and Agricultural In- 
stitute, and wishing for an opportunity to acknowledge their 
indebtedness- to the ' Hampton Students,' for the musical en- 
tertainments given to our community, we hereby tender a bene- 
fit, the proceeds to go to the use of your Institution, and the 
time and place to be chosen by you. 

"Jan. 24, 1874." 

Signed by Jacob Hefifelfinger, Esq., Col. J. C. Phillips, H. C. 


Whiting, Esq., Col. Thomas Tabb, Gen. William F. Barry, Gen. 

Joseph Roberts, Capt. P. T. Woodfin, and others. 

The following reply was returned by Gen. Marshall : 

" Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute, ) 
Hampton, Va., January 26, 1874. \ 

" Gentlemen : I have the honor to acknowledge receipt of 
your communication of 24th instant, and to assure you, in be- 
half of the officers and teachers of the Normal School, of our 
gratification at your indorsement of the educational work in 
which we are engaged, and your cordial expressions of good- 
will toward the Institution. 

" I accept with pleasure your kind offer of a benefit concert, 
to be given by the ' Hampton Students,' in aid of our building 
fund, and would propose Friday evening next, at the ' Bethes- 
da Chapel ' (Rev. Mr. Tolman's), as the most convenient time 
and place for the proposed entertainment. 

" I am, gentlemen, yours very truly, 

"J. F. B. Marshall, 

"A. A. Principal. 

" To Jacob Heffelfinger, Esq., Col. J. C. Phillips, H. C.Whiting. Esq., 
Col. Thomas Tabb, Gen. William F. Barry, Gen. Joseph Roberts, 
Capt. P. T. Woodfin, and others." 

The Norfolk Landmark publishes the incident and General 
Marshall's reply, and makes the following comment, which is 
interesting as showing a conservative Southern journal's view 
of the reconstruction question : 

" On looking at the names of the gentlemen to whom this 
note is addressed, it is gratifying to see that the two old armies 
are represented. The Federals and ex-Confederates who held 
on valiantly to the end at Appomattox or Greensboro are now 
united in a practical reconstruction, which conveys a good les- 
son to the political warriors (i*) at Washington. " 

The Students have also sung for the veteran volunteers of 
the National Home, at Hampton, and were most generously 
entertained, by the courtesy of the commandant, Capt. P. T. 



Woodfin, U. S. V., to whom the school owes many acts of 

On the third of February, they start northward once more. 
Virginia Hall, which existed for them only in hope when they 
first took up their mission, they now leave behind them, the 
growing monument of their years' work, and they go forth, trust- 
ing to return next June to witness its dedication, and insure its 
full completion. 

When the President of the United States kindly took their 
hands at the White House, as they have told you, he said to 
them : 

" It is a privilege for me to hear you sing, and I am grateful 
for this visit. The object you have in view is excellent — not 
only good for your people, but for all the people, for the nation 
at large. The education you aim at will fit you for the duties 
and responsibilities of citizens, for all the work of life. I wish 
you abundant success among the people wherever you go, and 
success to those you represent in reaching a high degree of 
knowledge and usefulness." 

They are hoping still to find his God-speed echoed by the 
people to whom they appeal by the plaintive music of slave life 
for help to raise themselves into the higher life of freedom. 


By H. W. L. 

In undertaking any great work which must depend largely 
for its accomplishment upon the practical sympathies of the 
public, it is a wise as well as a fair policy to let a brave begin- 
ning appeal to those sympathies at once, as the pledge of an 
honest purpose, and its honest fulfillment. It is on this princi- 
ple that the building of Virginia Hall has been carried out. Its 
foundations were laid early in April of last year. At that tirne 
there was not adollarin the treasury for building purposes, and 
^3000 were owing for bricks which had been manufactured the 
previous summer. 

The chorus of Hampton Students had just started upon their 
untried campaign for the $75,000 estimated as the full cost, 
and the future certainly seemed difficult to read. 

" Brekk ground " was the decision, " and let the work go on 
as lofig as the money comes in. It is a great need, and the 
Lord knows it. We will do all in our power, and then if He 
can afford fo wait, we can." 

The ground was broken, accordingly, as soon as the frost was 
sufficiently mit of it, and the work pushed, until, on June 12th, 
1873, the coraer-stone was laid by Prof. Roswell D. Hitch- 
cock, D.D>f^f New-York,* in the presence of many distin- 
guished visitors from the North and South, and Great Britain, 
who were drawn to Hampton by the interest of the occasion, 
and of the commencement exercises of the school, and by their 

* See Appendix, Note 8. 



desire to inspect the successful operation of the manual-labor 
system in Southern education. 

In announcing the design of the new hall, Gen. Armstrong 
said : " As security for its completion, we have our faith in our 
own earnest efforts, in the people of this country, and in our 
God." That this was good security, the finished walls of the 
beautiful edifice now stand to witness. 

As fast as the dollars have come into the treasury, they have 
been turned into bricks and mortar and timber, and the work 
has not been suspended for want of them for even a single 
day. As a friend lately remarked : " There is something actu- 
ally sublime in the way those walls have gone steadily up, rising 
day after day, day after day, right through this panic, when the 
largest business firms have been brought to a stand-still. It is 
like the movement of God's providence." 

We certainly have reason to feel that it is the movement of 
God's providence, and to believe that it will not cease till His 
full purpose is accomplished. When the panic was at its height, 
and every usual means of securing funds seemed exhausted, 
when there appeared to be no choice left but to stop work and 
leave uncovered walls exposed to the damaging severities of 
winter, two friends from Boston came to the rescue — one with 
a check for ^5000, the other with a guarantee equivalent, if 
necessary, to $5000 more, and the work went on. The cost of 
finishing the whole exterior is thus assured ; and as I write, the 
hall is rapidly assuming, externally, the finished aspect which 
is faithfully represented in the picture on page 152 in this 
sketch. It is expected that the roof will be finished by the first 
of March. 

The material of the building is red brick, the color relieved 
by lines and cappings of black. It measures one hundred 
and ninety feet in front by forty in width, and has awing run- 
ning one hundred feet to the rear. It will contain a chapel, 
with seating capacity for four hundred people ; an industrial- 
room for the manufacture of clothing, and for instruction in 
sewing in all its branches ; a dining-room able to accommodate 


two hundred and seventy-five boarders ; a large laundry and 
kitchen, besides quarters for twelve teachers, and sleeping- 
rooms for one hundred and twenty girls. 

The heating apparatus is to be steam, which will be applied 
to cooking. The kitchen and laundry are to have the best 
appliances for thorough work, and are to be as attractive and 
comfortable as any rooms on the premises. Every thing will be 
done to dignify labor, by making its associations respectable. 

Gas will be introduced as soon as possible. The basement, 
eight feet in the clear in height, will be well lighted, dry, and 
besides containing the printing-office. and being the publication- 
office of the So2ithern Workman, will be useful in many ways. 

A competent engineer will care for the machinery, apply 
steam power to grinding meal, sawing wood, etc., and by mak- 
ing the many repairs incidental to an establishment like this, 
will, it is expected, save to the school an amount equal to his 

The friends of the school may be assured that the con- 
struction is well done. Only day labor is employed, and the 
work is up to the mark in every way. 

Mr. Albert Howe, Farm Manager, an ex-Union soldier, is 
superintendent, and Mr. Charles D. Cake, a Hampton mechanic 
and ex-Confederate soldier, is foreman. The mechanics are 
about half white and half colored, are paid according to their 
labor, and are most harmonious, though equally divided in 
politics and in war record. The brains and hands employed 
are all local, yet Colonel Thomas Tabb, of Hampton, feels jus- 
tified in saying that it will probably be the finest building in 
Virginia. The architect is Mr. Richard M. Hunt, of New- 
York City, whose reputation is national. 

The institution is equally fortunate in the capacity and 
energy of Mr, Howe and in the mechanical skill and faithful- 
ness of Mr. Cake, under whose care the well laid walls have 
gone up like magic — obedient to the call of a people's need. 
The brick used is made on the Normal School premises, under 
the superintendence of Judge Oldfield, of Norfolk, an expe- 



rienced brickmaker. About a million bricks and five hundred 
thousand feet of lumber will be used. The interior finish will 
largely be in native Virginia pine. 

An interior view of a girls' room in Virginia Hall is here- 
with presented. There will be, however, but one bureau in- 
stead of two as in the picture, and a plain drop window-curtain. 
The cost of furnishing one of these rooms (of which there 
are sixty, besides eight rooms for teachers) is sixty dollars. 

Will not individuals and societies undertake the cost of fur- 
nishing them ? To insure uniformity and satisfaction, it is 
better to send the amount to the Treasurer, who will purchase 
at wholesale prices. The bedding may, however, be very satis- 
factorily made up and sent direct. A statement of precisely 
the articles needed, and their prices and shipping directions, 
will be sent to any one desiring it, who shall address S. C. 
Armstrong, Hampton, Va. 

It is aimed to create no useless or expensive tastes. " Plain 
living and high thinking " is the right formula for educational 
work. In building, furnishing, boarding, and in all the work 
and living at Hampton, the idea is to surround the student with 
influences that shall stimulate self-respect, that shall develop 
the higher and better nature by a practical recognition of it. 

Good buildings and furniture take care of themselves. Aca- 
demic Hall, costing $48,500, has in four years of hard usage 
received no appreciable injury. 

It is borne in mind that graduates must enter upon a lowly 
life in cabins, and endure the " hog and hominy" fare of their 
poverty-stricken people. Strong self-respect and ideas of true 
culture do not and will not alienate them from their race, but 
rather make them more appreciative of the work they have 
to do. 

For months past, every nerve of the corps of Hampton's 
workers has been strained to secure funds for the completion 
of their beautiful building. 

The first $40,000 have been given and nearly expended, ten 
thousand of which have been the direct net proceeds of the 


concerts of the " Hampton Students," and the remaining thirty 
thousand the indirect results of the interest they have excited, 
or the fruits of the collateral efforts that have been made. 
The workers are now upon the home-stretch. With no dis- 
couraging debt, with a consciousness that their efforts are in 
the line of a pressing need and of a great justice and humanity, 
and that the strongest signs of special providential favor have 
been manifested, they will press the completion of the interior 
so that the dedication may take place on the nth of next 
June. Virginia Hall, we have faith to believe, will then be 
devoted to the service of the Commonwealth whose noble 
name it bears, and of the Divine Power that has been in all 
its building and is entitled to all the glory of it. 

Twenty-five thousand dollars more must be secured to pre- 
pare it for use next fall, and many young women eager for 
education are watching with anxious eyes for its opening. It 
is for this that our Hampton Student Singers have once more 
entered the field, and that we send this little book out with 

Have we not reason still to trust to our own earnest efforts, 
to the people of this country, and to our God ? 


The following statement shows the various specific objects for which funds are 
needed for the completion and successful working of the Hampton Normal and 
Agricultural Institute. 

Permanent and reliable means of support are the great need ; therefore, first in 
importance is an 


First. Foundations of from ten thousand to twenty-five thousand dollars for the 
support of instructors and professors. One hundred thousand dollars are needed 
in this way. 

Second. Scholarships of one thousand dollars, the proceeds of which shall be 
devoted to the maintenance of the corps of teachers, enabling students to receive 
instruction free of charge. 

Third. A general fund of one hundred thousand dollars, the proceeds of which 
shall be used according to the judgment of the trustees for miscellaneous objects. 
Such a fund is indispensable to efficiency. 

Fourth. A beneficiary fund of forty thoiisand dollars, the interest to be applied 
to personal relief of needy and deserving students. 

Such aid is here exceptional and made closely contingent upon merit, but of our 
nearly two hundred (and rapidly increasing number of) boarders, many are orphans, 
in utter poverty, unable, owing to youth or to a degree of delicacy or inexperience, 
to earn by labor in the industrial departments enough for board, books, and cloth- 
ing. In some cases, those who will make the best teachers are not capable of 
heavy physical effort. Great care is taken to avoid pauperizing poor students, but 
help in certain cases is a duty. 

Two hundred boarding students, in a session of eight and a half months, at an 
average of $13 per month for board, books, and clothes, would be charged with 
$22,100. Of this amount, it would be wise to cancel by charity from $3000 to 

It is, in general, the plan of the school that students bear their own personal 
expenses, and most of them can do so by paying half in cash and half in labor, and 
by earnings as teachers after graduation. Much of the labor given out is, however, 
a direct tax upon our cash income, and»this burden is to be met by the general fund 
of the school, which, in reality, is a charity fund applied in the wisest, most health- 
ful, and stimulating way. 

of thirty-five thousand dollars is needed for the completion of Virginia Hall, a 
young women's dormitory. 

The young men are occupying recitation-rooms, or are quartered in tents. There 
is no young men's dormitory whatever. Twenty-five thousand dollars are needed 
to provide proper shelter for one hundred and fifty male students. This need is 


Our agricultural operations are on a large scale, and are highly successful, both 
as a means of instruction and of improvement in manly and useful qualities, and as 
self-supporting, but we have no suitable barn. Five thousa7id dollaj-s are needed 
for the erection of a barn which shall be a model, an object-lesson, to this section 
of the country, and an indispensable convenience and economy to the farm. 

The farm is in possession of the skill needed to manage a hot-house. Such a 
feature is desirable : its products could be sold to advantage, and it would be most 
useful as a part of our system of practical instruction. It would cost, fitted up, 
about $1500, but it is not urgently needed. 


Annual scholarships of $70 a year, or scholarships of $210, for the three years' 
course, are asked for. Many can supply these whose means do not permit them 
to do more. Individuals, Sunday-schools, and societies, in various parts ot the 
country, are maintaining scholarships here, a?td all who have given them are en- 
treated to continue their anmtal help titttil the school shall be on a solid foundation of 
its own. 

We are putting forth the greatest energy to place this institution on a footing of 
permanent usefulness, to make it a pillar of civilization and Christianity. Mean- 
while, we appeal to the country to aid us in paying current expenses. 

Catalogues and detailed financial statements of the affairs of the school will be 
sent to contributors desiring such information. 

Contributions and inquiries should be sent to General J. F. B. Marshall, Trea- 
surer, Box 10, Hampton, Va., or to Rev. Thomas K. Fessenden, Financial Secre- 
tary, Farmington, Ct., or to the undersigned. 

On behalf of the trustees, 

Hampton, Va., January i, 1874. S. C. Armstrong, Principal. 

Note i. {See page 19.) 
The following is a copy of the order for discontinuing the distribution of rations 
to the freedmen about Fortress Monroe : 

"War Department. 
"Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, .^nd Abandoned Lands, 
"Washington, August 22, 1866. 
Circular No. 10. 
" In accordance with the instructions of the Secretary of War, it is ordered that 
on and after the first day of October next, the issue of rations be discontinued 
except to the sick in regularly organized hospitals, and to the orphan asylums for 
refugees and freedmen already existing, and that the State officials who may be re- 
sponsible for the care of the poor be carefully notified of this order, so that they 
may assume the charge of such indigent refugees and freedmen as are not embraced 
in the above exceptions. " O. O. HOWARD, 

"Official: ^^Major-General Commissioner. 

' ' Assistant Adjutant- General. ' ' 

Note 2. {See page 25.) 
The following letter from General O. O. Howard was received in reply to a 
request from the author of The School and its Story that he would add his own 
opinion of Hampton to her witness as a teacher. It is generous, as his responses 
to appeals from Hampton have ever been : 


"Washington, D. C, Sept. lo, 1873. 

" Dear Madam : I can not give an unbiased opinion of Hampton Institute, 
because from the commencement I have been its ardent and sanguine friend. I am 
now on its Board of Trustees, and eager to see this institution placed on solid 

" Hampton presents unity in its Board of Trustees, unity in its faculty of instruc- 
tion, and able administration. It combines practical teaching with its theoretical, 
and opens avenues to the children of the poor. Its requirements are intelligence 
and industry, not limited by race or caste. I invoke upon it the favor and sympa- 
thy of men and women who love to do good, and' repair some of the ills of our past 
national and social crimes. 

- "God is sure to help its earnest workers. Let the catholic spirit of our divine 
Lord and Master never suffer it to be cramped by bigotry or narrowness, or cursed 
by skepticism. Then will this young and happy institute meet the warm wishes of 
its indefatigable superintendent, Gen. S. C. Armstrong, and not fail to fulfill the 
unflagging faith of its founders. 

" With many thanks for the honor you extend to me, 

" I remain sincerely your and General Armstrong's friend, 

" O. O. Howard, 
"■^ President Howard University.'" 

Note 3. {See page 44. ) 

The Sotcthern Workman is already known to many of our friends. It is edited 
by officers of the school, and printed chiefly by colored students who are learning 
the printers' trade, and payiiig their way through school by type-setting and press- 
work. The first number was issued January ist, 1872. It began its second year 
with a monthly circulation of fifteen hundred, and a paid-up subscription list of 
over eleven hundred. This is a much nearer approach to the point of self-support 
than has ever been attained in the South before by any similar paper. 

Over three quarters of its issue goes to the freedmen, for whom it is really in- 
tended ; and for them indeed there is no similar paper. Avoiding politics, it gives 
them intelligence concerning their own i^ace and the outside world, interesting coi"- 
respondence from teachers, and practical and original articles upon science, agri- 
culture, housekeeping, and education. It is handsomely printed on good paper, 
and supplied with first-class illustrations by Northern friends, among whom are the 
publishers of the Nnrse7y, the Christian Weekly, Every Saturday, and Harper's 

The complete success of this paper is the attainment of an important vantage- 
ground in an important field. Will you not lend a hand in this effort by subscrib- 
ing, as many of our friends have done, for some poor family in the South who can 
not spare a dollar ?* 

Note 4. {See page 52.) 

The following address was delivered by Rev. William H. Ruffher, D.D., Super- 
intendent of Public Instruction in Virginia, at the Hampton Institute Commence- 
ment, June 12th, 1873. The day was also chosen for the laying of the corner-stone 
of Virginia Hall, and the combined interests of the occasion called together a re- 
markable assemblage of mgn and women of intellect and influence, from North and 
South, and beyond the sea, many of whose names are honored in every part of our 

* Terms, $i per year. Address, Southern Workman, Hampton, Va. 


country and in Great Britain. This report of Dr. Rufifner's remarks was kindly 
furnished by himself, in response to the very unanimous request, by vote, of the 
assembly : 

" Mr. President, I came here simply to discharge my duty as one of the curators 
of that part of the Land Fund which was given by the Legislature to this institu- 
tion. My intention was not to take part in the public exercises of this occasion ; 
but after arriving here yesterday evening, and finding how many influential gentle- 
men were gathering from distant States, I determined to bear a testimony in favor 
of this school, and to suggest thoughts which might bear fruit hereafter. 

" The Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute, as its name imports, ad- 
dresses itself to the two great wants of Virginia at this time, the education of her 
unlettered masses, and the promotion of her material and especially her agricul- 
tural prosperity. 

" The colored schools of the State are suffering more than I can tell you for the 
want of trained teachers. The lower the average intelligence of a people, the 
larger the work of the teacher, for he has not only to do, but to undo. The educa- 
tional work among the colored people in the South is not only one of great magni- 
tude, but it is a peculiar a7id delicate work. Comparatively few men understand it, 
and still fewer are fitted to carry it on without mixing evil with the good. The 
negro has many good friends who are bad advisers. It would have been easy to 
establish a school here that would have been hateful to the intelligent people of the 
State, and been mischievous just in proportion to its success. But this school is 
worthy of great praise. Its aim has been honest and single. Although now and 
then words and things out of the direct line may appear, yet I believe its purpose 
to be wholly educational ; and the more exclusively it can preserve its character, 
the more useful and honorable will be its career. 

"And, gentlemen, I like the cast of the school, as well as its spirit. It gives a 
sound, general education, together with several practical applications thereof. The 
royal idea in both Prussia and China is, that a youth's education is not complete 
until he has been taught to make a living in two ways, one by his head, and the 
other by his hands ; and behold here we have the double training. Some students 
will succeed better in the head-work, and others in the hand-work. Some will em- 
ploy the two interchangeably ; and whether they do the one or the other, they will 
be doing valuable public service. 

" Leaving out of view our new Agricultural and Mechanical College at BlackS- 
burg, which we hope to make a model of its kind, I know of no school which so 
accurately represents as this does what seems to me to have been the idea floating 
in the mind of Congress, when it gave to the States the educational land scrip. 
After years of study, I feel justified in the conviction that there has been a misapi- 
plication of this land scrip in most of the States. The ' industrial classes' have not 
received, and are not likely to receive, any direct benefit from a vast donation in- 
tended exclusively for them. But this school deserved as well as received a portion 
of the fund. And no act of the Virginia Legislature has met with more general 
approval by the people of the State than the act of endowing this institution with a 
third of the land fund. And the remark by the State Superintendent of Connecti- 
cut is worthy of note — namely, that of all the States, North or South, Virginia 
alone has given to the negroes a share in the Congressional donation for the edu- 
cation of the industrial classes. Elsewhere it has all gone for the higher education 
of the whites ! 

"Allow me to say, gentlemen, that although Congress has recognized hand- 
somely the claims of education as an element in national aggrandizement, it has 
left a solemn duty imperformed. It converted slaves to citizens without pro- 
viding means whereby their citizenship might be a reality and a blessing. It sim- 
ply cast four millions of freedmen, in their poverty and weakness, upon the ruined 
communities of the South. It has abundantly inculcated upon them their rights ; 
but as an eloquent speaker has said to-day, the negroes have ditties as well as 


rights ; and what provision has been made by Congress for fitting these people for 
their duties ? 

" I do not desire the national government to go to school-teaching, but I do 
desire to see these Southern States furnished with the means of educating the chil- 
dren of the freedmen. Our old State has entered honestly and uncomplainingly 
upon the work of educating all her people impartially, and to the full extent of her 
means, and she intends to keep at it without faltering. He who says any thing to 
the contrary speaks ignorantly or falsely. But the work is too great for her pre- 
sent ability. In order to do it properly, she must have large aid. And this is true 
of every Southern State. I have faith to believe that this aid will come sooner or 
later. The noble sentiments expressed, this day, in our hearing by representative 
men from New-Jersey, New- York, and New-England, are unmistakable harbin- 
gers of an approaching era of justice, good feeling, and mutual respect. Here we 
have a cause in which we have already begun td work together. And may I not 
bespeak the aid of the powerful talent and influence here present in securing large 
appropriations from Congress to the Southern States to enable them to do all that 
needs to be done in this great work of popular education ? 

"Normal, Agricultural, and Mechanical schools which, like this one, are true to ' 
their names, should be liberally provided for by public and by private means ; but 
large provision is needed for the support of teachers in the field and for furnishing 
all the appliances of education. The movement in this direction, begun two win- 
ters ago, will be continued next winter, and is worthy the attention of the friends 
of education everywhere. 

" My impression is, that this school has a great future before it. As matters 
now stand, it has all the elements of prosperity and growing usefulness. Let it be 
endowed with all the means required for its widest expansion, arid, what is better, 
for its solid growth." 

Note 5. {See pages Z() and <)1.) 
The following collection of letters received by the Principal of the Hampton 
Institute furnishes forcible testimony of the practical success of the school, and 
is offered to the public in the belief that it illuminates both sides of a difficult 
question : 

Commonwealth of Virginia, Executive Chambers, 
Richmond, March 5, 1873. 
General S. C. Armstrong : 

Dear Sir : The unanimity with Avhich the Virginia Legislature bestowed one 
third of the land fund upon the Hampton Institute, and the universal approval of 
the act by the Virginia people, afford the highest possible testimony in favor of this 
institution. The school is regarded as the product of an original study and trus 
comprehension of the intellectual and moral wants of the colored race, and not as 
a mere fanciful, initiative scheme of education. The direct results of the institu- 
tion are exceedingly valuable, and its general influence most happy in promoting a 
spirit of education among the colored people. Its technical cast is worthy of the 
attention of educators everywhere. The indications now are that the present 
accommodations of the school will fall very short of the demand. Such a result 
would be deplorable for many reasons. The Board of Education of Virginia 
heartily indorses your plan for increasing your educational facilities. 

Respectfully yours, 

Gilbert C. Walker. 

February 8, 1873. 
General S. C. Armstrong : 

My dear Sir : In response to your letter of the 5th instant, requesting an ex- 
pression of my views as to the efficiency of your graduates, I am pleased to be 
able to state that, so far as their work has fallen under my observation, I have 
found them worthy representatives of a worthy institution. Those serving under 



my jurisdiction as Superintendent of Schools proved themselves to be very faithful 
and eli(icient teachers, and the success attending their schools was in many cases 
truly surprising. The evidences furnished by their good deportment showed that, 
while cultivating their intellectual faculties, Hampton had not neglected their morals. 

I considered Samuel Windsor one of the best teachers for primary schools I 
had ever seen. His teaching was after the most approved methods, and the evi- 
dences furnished during my visitations and examinations of his school proved that 
he himself had been the subject of very superior training. He is now the princi- 
pal of a flourishing graded school of about two hundred pupils. 

If such is a fair specimen of the teachers you turn out at Hampton, the country 
has much to hope for in the continued prosperity of your institution. The great 
want of our colored schools is properly-trained colored teachers. 

Wishing you abundant success in your important work, I am. 
Very truly yours, 

L. R. Holland, Superintendent Schools. 

Franklin Depot, 
Susquehanna Co., Va., Jan. 22, 1873. 
General S. C. Armstrong : 

Dear Sir : Yours of the 2d instant was received some time ago, and in reply 
I must say that it will give me much pleasure to give you what information I pos- 
sess regarding my experience with the teachers sent from your institution. 

I have been fortunate enough to receive four of five of them — namely, William 
H. Lee, George W. Lattimore, William Barrett, and John K. Britt. The course 
of study, as pursued at the Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute, is admira- 
bly adapted for the preparation of teachers for our colored schools, and in my opinion 
is fulfilling its mission to the satisfaction of all concerned. So far as the qualifica- 
tions of the teachers named are concerned, there is no question, for a visits to their 
schools only convinces me of their proficiency for their duties ; and I have come to 
regard it as useless to examine any candidate for a teacher's certificate who can pro- 
duce the diploma from your Institute. Yery respectfully, 

• James F. Bryant, Supermteiident Schools, etc. 

Seven-Mile Ford, Ya., Jan. 13, 1873. 
General S. C. Armstrong: 

Dear Sir : I have been superintending schools here formore than two years, and 
I have been able to get no teachers that have been serviceable to the colored race, save 
those who have been educated at Hampton. I will except one who was educated at 
New- York. The colored teachers from your school have been well instructed in 
all the rudimentary branches taught in our pubhc schools ; in fact, better than 
many white teachers who are employed in our schools. Your graduates and 
undergraduates have been properly trained in morals, etc., and their influence is 
perceptible in the schools where they teach. Joseph D. Giles, James Ricks, and 
Stephen A. Ricks did me good service last year. S. A. Ricks is still teaching. I 
wish I had more of your pupils for iny colored schools. The negro race must be 
educated in the common English branches if they are to make citizens in the govern- 
ment. Our free institutions demand it. We must have an intelligent citizenship if 
we are to have a happy, strong, and prosperous government. 
Very respectfully, 

D. C. Miller, Stiferhitetident Schools, Smith Co. 

The following letter from Prof. Joynes, of Washington and Lee University, Vir- 
ginia, is, although personal and not intended' for publication, inserted here as a 
valuable part of the cumulative evidence offered in this book of the sincere and kind 
welcome extended by representative Southern men to honest and earnest, efforts for 
the freedmen. Prof. Joynes will, we hope, excuse the liberty taken with his gen- 
erous and friendly letter: 


Washington and Lee University, ) 
Lexington, Va., Jan. 19, 1874. \ 
General S. C. Armstrong: 

Dear Sir : I have received, through my friend, Rev. George F. Adams, your kind 
invitation that I should visit the Hampton Normal School, and especially at its 
next commencement. I regret that it is not in my power to make any positive ap- 
pointment to this effect, but I assure you I shall lose no opportunity of Visiting 
your school, and expressing thereby, personally, my deep interest in its work. 

Permit me to assure you that I have, from the beginning, looked with deepest 
interest upon your school and its work. I think you are engaged in an experiment 
which has the closest and profoundest relation to the great question of the races in 
our country ; and I regard the work which your school is doing as more important 
for the colored race than any political legislation whatsoever. Increased knowledge 
and intelligence — the knowledge and intelligence that add value as well as dignity 
to labor, and increase as well as justify the sentiment of personal self-respect; the 
experience that these gifts are to be acquired (for colored as well as for white) only 
by effort, self-sacrifice, and personal worth ; and the great lesson which you are 
teaching, that the vtoral enfranchisement and progress of the colored race can be 
won only through the colored race itself — these are truths that are worth more 
than any mere pohtical doctrines. And your school is teaching them by example 
and by precept, in a manner that must make it a centre of the deepest interest, 
alike for all educators and for all patriots. 

Permit me to add that it is, I believe, a sentiment of general and just congratu- 
lation among Virginians, that a work so important and critical should be in the 
hands of a man as judicious, as liberal, and as conservative as yourself; and that 
our people regard you with the utmost confidence and respect. 

I regret once more that I can not now promise to accept your invitation, but I 
trust I shall at least have the pleasure of meeting you at Norfolk. 

Very respectfully, 

Edward S. Joynes. 

Note 6. {See page 56.) 

The financial affairs of the Institute are in charge of Gen. J. F. B. Marshall, who 
has had thirty years of active business experience, and was, during the late war, 
Paymaster-General of the State of Massachusetts. He has given heavy bonds for 
the faithful performance of his duty, and has organized a thorough system of 
accounts showing the precise financial condition of every department of the school, 
and the debits and credits of each student, which, though involving great labor, 
has been most satisfactory to those who have examined his books, and justifies the 
school's claim to a faithful stewardship of funds intrusted to it. 

His daily practical and theoretical instruction of students in book-keeping gives 
them many of the advantages of a Business College. The following is an extract 
from his report as Treasurer : 

The property comprising the Normal School premises was purchased by the 
American Missionary Association in June, 1867. It originally contained one hun- 
dred and sixty-five acres of land, of which forty acres were in outlying lots, and 
afterward sold to freedmen. The cost of the land was nineteen thousand dollars, 
ten thousand of which were appropriated for the purpose by the trustees of the 
Avery Fund, a large bequest left by Mr. Avery, of Pittsburg, Pa., for the education 
of freedmen in the United States and Canada. 

The Droperty is now owned and controlled by the Board of Trustees. 

1 66 


The outlays from the beginning, for buildings, furniture, stock, implements, 
books, apparatus, and current expenses, with the exception of the amount paid by 
the students, have been met from appropriations by the American Missionary As- 
sociation, the Freedmen's Bureau, the Peabody Fund, the State Agricultural Col- 
lege Land Fund, and private donations of friends of the enterprise, as shown by 
the following statement of 



1. From American Missionary Association, . . . . $34,600 00 

2. " Societies and individuals through A. M. A., . . . 21,378 16 

3. " Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands, . 58,327 89 

4. " Literest of Endowment Fund, . . . . . . 2,244 34 

5. " Interest of State Agricultural College Land Fund, . . 7,480 50 

6. " Trustees of Peabody Fund, ...... 3,400 00 

7. " " Hampton Students" (vocalists), 10,971 30 

8. " Other sources, 89,623 86 

9. " Donations for Endowment Fund, . . . . 43,94i 22 

For Far?n — namely : 

For land, buildings, and expenses, 
" implements, wagons, carts, etc., 
" stock : horses, mules, cows, etc.. 
For subsistence of students and teachers, . 
" school-buildings, ..... 

" salaries, apparatus, and current expenses, 
" furniture, ...... 

" investment of Endowment Fund, . 

Balance in hands of Treasurer, 

$271,967 27 

$27,648 79 

1,533 09 

3.465 90 

38,394 ^9 

83,721 59 

61,522 GO 

7,726 39 
42,922 20 

$266,934 85 
5,032 42 

$271,967 27 


Real Estate, 

Farm no acres, with barns, etc., inclosed, worth say,* 

School premises, say 10 acres, valued at . 

Academic Hall — class-rooms, offices, etc., cost .... 

Teachers' Home — residence of teachers and principal, valued at 
Griggs Hall — residence of matron, and girls' dormitory, valued at 
Barracks — industrial-room, dining-hall, dormitories, etc., valued at 
Butler School, occupied as county school (preparatory). 
Farm-house — residence of farm manager and treasurer, cost 
New wharf, cost ......... 

Virginia Hall (unfinished, to cost $75,000) to date . 

$25,000 00 
5,000 00 

48,552 97 
5,000 00 
6,000 00 

2,500 CO 

3,000 00 

3.975 50 

916 82 

14,008 12 

$"3,953 41 

Not including 72 acres purchased with the Land Scrip Fund. 


Personal property. 
Farm stock, comprising one Canadian pure Ayrshire bull, fif- 
teen cows, four farm-horses, five mules, two yoke of oxen, swine, and 

poultry, $3-465 90 

Farm implements — wagons, plows, etc., ■ 1.533 ^9 

Furniture of school-rooms, dormitories, etc., at appraisal of cash value, 7,726 39 
Books and apparatus, ... ...... 1,040 33 

Printing-office — presses, type, etc., 4>899 5^ 

$18,665 29 
Endowment Fimd'. 
The Endowment Fund, invested in First Mortgage Bonds, United States Cur- 
rency Bonds, stocks and shares, amounts to .... $38,829.75. 
Note. — Rev. T. K. Fessenden, Financial Secretary of the Board of Trustees, 
had paid in, up to November 15th, 1873, the date of his last quarterly report, in 
cash and material, inclusive of collections for Building Fund and current expense 
accounts, $73,503.83. 

He has secured, in addition, a large amount in pledges and legacies, not less than 
$40,000, which will, in time, be paid in. 

Note 7. (See page $•] .) 
The following extracts from the Catalogue of 1873-4 are pubUshed for the infor- 
mation of those interested : 


S. C. Armstrong, Principal, Moral Science and Civil Government. 

J. F. B. Marshall, Treasurer and Acting Assistant Principal, Book-keeping. 

Academic Department. — John H. Larry, in charge. Natural Science and Elocu- 
tion and Drill ; Mary F. Mackie, Mathematics ; Amelia Tyler, Grammar and 
Composition; Elizabeth H. Brewer, Ancient History and Physical Geography; 
Mary Hungerford, Reading and United States History; Helen W. Ludlow, 
Enghsh Literature ; Julia E. Remington, Geography and Map Drawing ; Na- 
thalie Lord, Reading; M. C. Kimber, Writing and Physiology. 

Musical Department. — Thomas P. Fenner, in charge; Ethie K. Fenner, As- 

Giiis'' Industrial Department. — S. H. Fenner, in charge. 
} Housework and Boarding Department. — SusAN P. Harrold, Matron ; C. L. 
Mackie, Steward and Hospital Department. 

Agricultural Department. — Albert Howe, in charge. 

George Dixon, Lecturer on Agriculture. 

Mechanical Department. — John H. Larry, in charge. 

Printing- Office. — W. J. BUTTERFIELD, in charge. 


Whole number, 226. Young men, 149; young women, 77. Seniors, 27; Mid- 
dlers, 76 (3 sections); Juniors, 98(3 sections); Preparatory, 23; Post-Graduates, 2. 
Average age, 18. 


The courses of study embrace three years, and include — 



Language. — Spelling, Reading, Sentence-Making, English Grammar, Analysis, 
Rhetoric, Composition, Elocution. 

Mathematics. — Mental Arithmetic, Written Arithmetic, Algebra, Geometry, Ma- 
thematical Drawing. 

History. — History of United States, History of England — Readings from Eng- 
lish writers. Universal History. 

Natural Science. — Geography — Map-drawing, Physical Geography, Natural His- 
tory, Natural Philosophy, Physiology, Botany. 

Miscellaneotis. — Science of Civil Government, Moral Science, Bible Lessons, 
Drill in Teaching, Principles of Easiness, Vocal Training, Instrumental Music. 


Studies of the Normal Course at discretion. Lectures on the following courses : 
Formation of Soils, Rotation of Crops, Management of Stock, Fruit Culture, Cul- 
tivation of Crops, Drainage, Market Gardening, Meteorology, Practical Instruction 
in the routine of Farming and Market Gardening. 


Studies of the Normal Course at discretion. Instruction in Book-keeping, Sin- 
gle and Double Entry, in Business Letters, Contracts, Account of Sales, and other 
Business and Legal Papers, and in Commercial Law. Each student is required to 
keep his account current with the Institute in proper form. 


Studies of the Normal Course at discretion. Practical Instruction in the different 
varieties of Sewing-Machines in use, in household industi-ies, and in the following: 
Penmanship, Free Hand Drawing, Mechanical Drawing, Printing. 

Lectures are given through the year on Agricultural topics. Arrangements are 
being made to secure eveiy year the services of leading literary and scientific men 
in a Lecture Course that shall afford the highest order of entertainment and in- 

Board, per month, .......... $8 oo 

Washing and lights, per month, ....... I oo 

Fuel, per month, ........... 75 

Use of furniture, per month, 25 

$10 CO 

Clothing and books extra, to be paid for in cash. 

Able-bodied young men and women over eighteen years of age are expected to 
pay half in cash and half in work ; that is, $5 per month in cash, and to work out 
the balance. Boys and girls of eighteen years and less are required to pay $6 per 
month. Students are held responsible for all balances against them that they may 
not have worked out. 

The amount of profitable labor being limited, it is desired to extend its advan- 
tages as far as possible ; hence only those who are absolutely unable to pay any 
thing in cash are allowed to work out their whole expenses. Young men and wo- 
men, whose parents desire that they shall not be taken out of school to work, may. 


upon the payment of $10 per month, attend school without interruption, but will 
nevertheless be required to work on Saturdays, at such hours as may be assigned 
them. Labor is required of all, for purposes of discipline and instruction. To 
this end, day scholars are expected to labor at the rate of an hour per day, at such 
industries as may be assigned them. 

Bills are made out and are payable at the end of the month. The regular cash 
payment is to be monthly, in advance. 

The regular annual tuition fee of the institution is seventy dollars. Students are 
not required to pay this. As the amount has to be secured by the Trustees, by 
solicitation among the friends of education, students are called upon annually to 
write letters to their benefactors. 


Courtesy and mutual forbearance are expected of both pupils and teachers, as 
indispensable to good discipline. 

Every student is by enrollment committed to the discipline and regulations of the 

Students are subject to suspension or discharge for an unsatisfactory course in 
respect to study, conduct, or labor. 

The use of ardent spirits and tobacco is prohibited. Letter-writing is subject to 

The wardrobes of all students are subject to inspection and regulation by the pro- 
per officers. 

Students are subject to drill and guard duty. Obedience to the Commandant 
must be implicit. The rights of students are properly guarded. 

A. M. — 5.00 Rising Bell. 

" 5.45 Inspection of Men. 

" 6.00 Breakfast. 

" 6.30 Family Prayers. 

" 8.00 Inspection of quarters. 

" 8.30 Opening of school. Roll Call and Exercises. 

" 8.55 to 10.20 Classes in Reading, Natural Philosophy, Arithmetic, Gram- 
mar, Geography, and Book-keeping. 

" 10.20 to 10.40 Recess. 

" 10.40 to 12.15 Classes in Writing, Arithmetic, Grammar, History, Al- 
gebra, and Elocution, 
p. M.-12.15 to 1.30 Dinner and intermission. 
1.30 Roll Call. 

" 1.40 to 2.50 Classes in Spelling, Arithmetic, Grammar, Geography, Na- 
tural Philosophy, History, Civil Government, and Moral Science. 

" 4.00 Cadet Drill. 

" 6.00 Supper. 

" 6.45 Evening Prayers. 

" 7.15 to 9 Evening Study Hours. 

" 9.30 Retiring Bell. 


On Sunday there are morning religious services in the Chapel, conducted by the 
Rev. Richard Tolman, formerly of Tewksbury, Mass., vs^ho has pastoral charge of 
the school. The Church is organized as the "Bethesda Church," and has no de- 
nominational name or connection. Sunday afternoon there are Bible-Classes in the 
Assembly Hall, and in the evening a lecture or prayer-meeting. 

Note 8. {See page 2,0.) 

Report of the Committee of Visitors to the School at its Commencement, June 
I2th, 1873: 

By invitation of the Trustees of the Hampton Normal School, the undersigned 
attended the Commencement exercises of that institution on Thursday, June 12th, 
1873. A detailed report might easily have been provided for, but the end contem- 
plated may perhaps be better served by a general statement of the impressions 
made upon us. 

The location of the institution seemed to us every way most fehcitous. The 
scenery is of a subdued and quiet type, but very charming. The historic associa- 
tions, both remote and recent, are suggestive and stimulating. 

The whole spirit of the institution is at the widest possible remove from every 
thing extravagant and fanatical. The colored race are not overrated, either moral- 
ly or intellectually. On the contrary, their characteristic infirmities are distinctly 
recognized, and diligently combated. Consequently the immediate neighbors of 
the institution, and the white people of Virginia generally, as they come to under- 
stand the matter, are more and more friendly from year to year. Self-interest of 
course dictates the education of a race which has been so suddenly enfranchised ; 
but along with this there is likewise a great deal of the old Anglo-Saxon love of 
fair play, and the negroes admit they will have themselves only to blame, if they 
go to the wall. 

The institution is singularly happy in its corps of instructors. General Arm- 
strong has a combination of qualities which fit him admirably for his position. He 
has great enthusiasm and great diligence in his work. The teachers under him are 
much above the average. The recitations we heard gave proof of very thorough 
and very skillful drilling. Such eagerness for knowledge, on the part of pupils, we 
never saw before. It seemed to us like a long thirst just beginning to be satisfied. 
The five canvas tents upon the lawn looked as gallant as any tents ever did on a 

' But the institution has not yet reached half its proper stature. The new build- 
ing, whose corner-stone we assisted in laying, is most urgently needed. Men of 
property can make no better use of it than at Hampton, in strengthening an insti- 
tution which, though it may have rivals, as we hope it may, is not likely to be sur- 
passed by any similar institution anywhere in the South. 


New-York, January, 1874. WILLIAM M. TAYLOR. 








The slave music of the South presents a field for research and study very exten- 
sive and rich, and one which has been scarcely more than entered upon. 

There are evidently, I think, two legitimate methods of treating this music: 
either to render it in its absolute, rude simplicity, or to develop it without destroy- 
ing its original characteristics ; the only proper field for such development being 
in the harmony. 

Practical experience shows the necessity, in some cases, in making compensation 
for its loss in being transplanted. Half its effectiveness, in its home, depends upon 
accompaniments which can be carried away only in memory. The inspiration of 
numbers ; the overpowering chorus, covering defects ; the swaying of the body ; 
the rhythmical stamping of the feet ; and all the wild enthusiasm of the negro camp- 
meeting — these evidently can not be transported to the boards of a public per- 
formance. To secure variety and do justice to the music, I have, therefore, 
treated it by both methods. The most characteristic of the songs are left entirely 
or nearly untouched. On the other Jiand, the improvement which a careful bring- 
ing out of the various parts has effected in such pieces as " Sojneo' deseMo7-nin''s" 
"Bright Sparkles in de C/mi^ckyai'd," '^ Dust an'' Ashes" and "The Church ob 
God," which seemed especially susceptible to such development, suggests possi- 
bilities of making more than has ever yet been made out of this slave music. 

Another obstacle to its rendering is the fact that tones are frequendy employed 
which we have no musical characters to represent. Such, for example, is that 
which I have indicated as nearly as possible by the flat seventh, in " Great Ca7np- 
7neetin'" "Hard Trials," and others. These tones are variable in pitch, ranging 
through an entire interval on different occasions, according to the inspiration of 
the singer. They are rarely discordant, and often add a charm to the perform- 
ance. . It is of course impossible to explain them in words, and to those who 
wish to sing them, the best advice is that most useful in learning to pronounce a 
foreign language : Study all the ndes you please ; then— go listen to a ftative. 

One reason for publishing this slave music is, that it is rapidly passing away. 
It may be that this people which has developed such a wonderful musical sense in 
its degradation will, in its maturity, produce a composer who could bring a music 
of the future out of this music of the past. At present, however, the freedmen have 
an unfortunate inclination to despise it, as a vestige of slavery ; those who learned 
it in the old time, when it was the natural outpouring of their sorrows and long- 
' ings, are dying off, and if efforts are not made for its preservation, the country will 
soon have lost this wonderful music of bondage. 


Hampton, Va., January i, 1874. 


(Bfi, XJtn mg little Soul *g gbJine to Sl)ine. 

" This was sung by a boy who was sold down South by his master; and when he parted from 
his mother, these were the words he sang.'' — ■ J. H. Bailey. 





-N- — ^ 


1. I'm gwine to jine de great 'so - ci - a-tion, I'm gwine to jine cle 



1_, — I 

* ^ — 

great 'so - ci - a - tion, I'm gwine to jine de great 'so - ci - a - tion; 

a-^-ti fi- 

.0 — ^ , ' , 1_ 1 ^^ U-T-« — ! • — I 


Den my lit- tie soul' s gwine to sliine, sliine, Den my 

-^ • ^ £- - Jt. 

-• B • • — I — s> e> — I — t- 


lit - tie soul's gwine to sliine a - long. Oh, 

-» s g—'-— 0. 

-0 — 0- 

. 2 I'm gwine to climb np Jacob's ladder, Den my little soul, &c. 

3 I'm gwine to climb up liiglier and higher, Den my little soul, &c. 

4 I'm gwine to sit down at the welcome table, Den my little soul, &c. 

5 I'm gwine to feast off milk and honey, Den my little soul, &c. 

6 I'm g^vine to tell God how-a you sarved me. Den my little soul, &o. 

7 I'm gwine to jine de big baptizin'. Den my little soul, &g.. 



'^tttx, go King Hem ISell.^. 

" A secret prayer-meeting song, sung by Thomas Vess, a blacksmith and a slave. He especial- 
ly sang it when any one confessed religion. Thomas Vess was a man whose heart was given to these 
songs, for in the neighborhood where he lived, it seemed like a prayer-meeting did not go on well 
without him. I have long since learned wherever he was known what happiness he got from 
them." J. M. Waddy. 



1. Oil Pe - ter, go ring dem bells, Peter, go ring dem bells, Peter, go 




1 '■ ^— ha — W — * 

-b— h 

-» \-0 — » 0—\ 


Al Cho. after D. C. 

ling dem bells, I heard from heav-en to - day. I ■wonder where my 


.1 1 Ut 1 L> 1- ■ 1 


^ ^ • I, i»i 


mother is gone, I won-der where my mother is gone, I 

-^-T—0 — fi 


«-i--«2 0,:^ If 0—0 »—•—»■ 


*^ ■*■ -^ 


-0 s — ^- 



-5 — h^-.-T-| 

wonder where my moth-er is gone, I heard from heav-en to-day. 

— — ^ — -f- ^0^0 — — ft — ,_' :^ — ^ — — p. — *_ g-j._ 

Ck '- — -0 0-0 - U» 0-!—0 — W 1 1 , : Y0- - -i -! 

I 5 



^eter, go Hxing tiem l^tW^.— Concluded, 

csonus. . , N s 


I lieard from lieav-en to-day, I heard from heav- en to-day, I 


_ ^ a I if — r-* — - — — 1-0 1 #-r* — ! — • — I 



■ 1^ -^, -*■ 

thank God, and I thank you too, I heard from heaven to - day. 

1 '^r 

2 I wonder where sister Mary 's gone — 

I heard from heaven to-day; "** 
I wonder where sister Martha's gone — 

I heard from heaven to-day; 
It's good news, and I thank God — 

I heard from heaven to-day. 
Oh, Peter, go ring dem bells — 

I heard from heaven to-day. 
Cho. — I lieard from heaven, &c. 

3 I wonder where brudder Moses gone — 

I heard from heaven to-day; 
1 wonder where brudder Daniel 's gone — 

I heard from heaven to-day; 
He 's gone where Elijah has gone — 

I heard from heaven to-clay; 
Oh, Peter, go ring dem bells — 

I heard from heaven to-day. 
Cho. — ^I heard from heaven, &c. 



i^flg ilorli, ijjijat a Jfloruing. 

1. My Lord, wliat a morniDg, My Lord, what a morn-ing, My 


Fine- ,/7v 

it—J « ! ! ! « « — b^—'—^^—i d — \—-^ —T -\ 


Lord, what a morn-ing, When de stars be - gin to fall 

■ ^ 1-» m 1 ! l-i -. — • ,* r- 


—» ^ 

■# 1 — 

9 »- 







— 1^- 


You'll hear de trumpet sound, To wake de na ■ 
You'll heait de sin - ner moan, To wake, &c. 

tions Tin - der 

B.C. al Fine. 

■»■-=(• , -. -, 
ground, Look in my God's right hand, When de stars begin to fall. 

2 You '11 hear de Christians shout, To wake, &c. 

Look in my God's right haiid, When de stars, &e. 
You '11 hear de angels sing. To wake, &c. 

Look in my God's right handj When de stars, &c. 
Cho. — My Lord, what a morning, &c. 

3 You '11 see my Jesus come. To, wake, &c. 

Look in my God's right hand, When de stars, &c. 
His chariot wheels roll round, To Avake, &c. 

Look in my God's right hand. When de stars, &c. 
Cho. — My Lord, what a morning, &g. 


mil! ?^ail! f^ail! 


Children, hail! hail! hail! I'm gwine jine saints a- bove; 

F »— — F 






::^^=:]=y|:=— ^q 
^-— -#-i-:f — i — :^ 
» g-v- 7l — » — i 

Hail! hail! hail! I'm on my jour - ney home. Oh, 

*■ M^ 



1 ^- 

-0- #.. 



l).^. alSeg. 



look up yan - der, what I see, I'm on my journey home, 
an - gels com - in' ar - ter me, I'm on my journey home. 



2 If you git dere before I do, 
I'm on my journey home — 
Look out for me — I'm comin' too; 
I'm on my journey home. 

Cho. — Children, hail, &c. 

3 Oh, hallelujah to de Lamb! 

I'm on my journey home; 
King Jesus died for ebry man, 

I'm on my journey home. 
Cho.— Children, hail, &e. 



ILobe an' ^erbc tre Hortr. 

If ye love God, serve Him, Halle - lu- jah, Praise ye de Lord! 
^ Come go to glo - ry with me, 


t5> — i-l 

1 — m w — rrsf r^ ( 


• — 1 



-25— '-i- 


if ye love God, serve Him, Halle-lu - jah ! Love an'serve de Lord. 

Come, go to glo - ry with me. 


— ?- 

-?— «- 


-I 1 H — 



v I 




Good mornin', brother trav'ler, Pray tell me where you're bound? I'm 

„ D.C. al Seg. 

— ^- 

— N, — 

bound for Canaan's hap-py land, And de en-chant-ed ground. 

2 Oh, when I was a sinner, 

I liked my way so well; 
But when I come to find out, 
I was on de road to hell. 
Cho. — I fleed to Jesus — Hallelujah! «fec. 

Oh, Jesus received me. Hallelujah, &c. 

3 De Father, He looked on de Son, and smiled, 

De Son, He looked on me; 
De Father, redeemed my soul from hell; 
An' de Son, He set me free. 
Cho. — I shouted Hallelujah! Hallelujah, &c. 
I praised my Jesus, Hallelujah, &c. 

4 Oh when we all shall get dere, 

Upon dat-a heavenly sho', 
"We'll walk about dem-a golden streets. 
An' nebber part no mo'. 
Cho. — No i^ebukin' in de churches — Hallelujah, 
Ebery day be Sunday — Hallelujah, &c. 


gtoing loij), giueet (tijmot 



Oh s-wing low, sweet cha - ri - ot, Swing low, sweet clia - ri - ot, 

1^ J .J. I I ,S I ^ -^ ^ ■ i N I 

• i€|_t_fl — 1^ ^ — 1^ •_i 1 — ±i&j_: — iJ 

Swing low, sweet cha-ri - ot, I don't want to leave me be - hind. 

^ .^ I I N ! I ^ ^ ^ ^ I 



¥. p ¥ "? I /* r i/ 1^ "^- w 


-0- -o- -»■ -»- -#■-#-■#•-#• 

Oh de good ole chariot swing so low, Good ole chariot swing so low,. 



1 : ^' < 1 \ ! € _ ^1_ LI 

-• ^ — ^ S — L0 — #_j. — |_X(&;_z.Jj 

Oh de good ole chariot swing so low, I don't want to leave me behind. 

i^'i 0-T-0-+0 — m-'—m , \-0 — i i — U — ■ — .• 1 1 — +1 |-l 


^ p-' 

2 Oh de good ole chariot will take us all home, 
I don't want to leave me behind, 

Cho. — Oh swing low, sweet chariot, &c. 



Mn HSretijcien, tion't get SHcati). 

-^ — 0- 


— >, 

— #- 



1__^_ , ^^_L_^ ^__ __L* «_i_*_ 

I - gels brou| 

s — .' — I r~ 1 i F -1 

I 1^- 'iZ'iZZp -• — g^ J 

I — Ly 1 1 y 

My breth-er - en, don't get wea - ry, 

., m • .r_., m 


_t_i^ — i — If. 

« m \—\-0.- «— V \ 1 — I — \ i^^f 


ti- ding down; Don't get wea-ry, I'm hunt-ing for a home. 


ls< |2rf 2>.C. 

--N 1 — 

judg-ment day is a com-ing, 

I do love 




Lord. Lord, 

I N 


2 Oh whar you runnin', sinner ? 

I do love de Lord — 
De judgment day is a comin'! 
I do love de Lord. 
Oho. — My bretheren, &c. 

3 You'll see de world on fire! 

I do love de Lord — 
You'll see de element a meltin', 

I do love de Lord. 
Oho. — My bretheren, &c. 
4 You'll see de moon a bleedin*; 
I do love de Lord — 
You'll see the stars a fallin'; 
I do love de Lord. 
Cho. — My bretheren, &c. 



( This 80ug was a favorite in the Sea Islands. Once , when there had been a good deal of ill 
feeling excited, and trouble was apprehended, owing to the uncertain action of the Government 
in regard to the confiscated lands on the Sea Islands, Gen. Howard was called upon to address the 
colored people earnestly. To prepare them to listen, he asked them to sing. Immediately an old 
woman on the outskirts of the meeting began "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen, " and the 
whole audience joined in. The General was so affected by the plaintive melody, that he foimd it 
difficult to maintain his official dignity.) 

=N — t^- 

* T*, 1 ^ 9-T—*o- h^-.-g —a 

-0- -0- •«■ S- -«■ ' u 

U ly ^ •*■ ' TBT 

Oh, no - bod - y knows de trou-ble I've seen, No - bod - y knows but 
\__ _\ I N J ♦ ^"^ T ' ■*"-■*■ 1*" N i N 

— ^ —^^ — ^ — g — ,- . — ,— V 


-V s — ^1 ^^• 


W g g— t^-y^J J 9,- 

Je - sus, Nobod-y knows de trouble I've seen. Glory Hal-le -lu-jab! 

-#— •— *— yl h 

--j i^zir — z:'" 




Some-times I'm up, sometimes I'm down; Oh, 
Al - though you see me goin' 'long so. Oh, 


yes. Lord; 
ves, Lord; 


al Fine. 

2 One day when I was walkin' along, Oh yes, Lord — 
De element opened, an' de Love came down, Oh yes, &c. 
I never shall forget dat day, Oh yes, &c. 
When Jesus washed my sins away, Oh yes, &c. 

Cho. — Oh, nobody knows de trouble I've seen, &c. 




Vit'm tie HanH. 


Oh way o - ver Jer - dan, View de land, View de 

IS- .- ... - «^ N 



Ht ^ 


T— «B — J — »_»_- ^ 

-m 1 — I 


. zp 1 — L — 1 J— I— 5 — H A 

view de heavenly land. 

,s ^ ,s N 

I'm born of God, I know I 
I want to go to heaven when I 

am; View 
die; View 

de land, View 
de land. View 

de land; 
de land; 

2 What kind o' shoes is dem-a you wear ? View de land, &c. 
Dat you can walk upon de air ? Go view, &c. 

Dem shoes I wear am de gospel shoes ; View de land, &c. 
An' you can wear dem ef-a you choose; Go view, &o. — Cho. 

3 Der' is a tree in Paradise; View de land, &c. 

De Christian he call it de tree ob life; Go view, &c. 

I spects to eat de fruit right off o' dat tree ; View de land, &c, 

Ef busy old Satan will let-a me be; Go view, kc.~Cho. 

4 You say yer Jesus set-a you free ; View de land, &c. 
Why don't you let-a your neighbor be ? Go view, &c. 
You say you're aiming for de skies; View de land, &c. 
Why don't you stop-a your telling lies; Go view, &c.—Cho. 



^\)t Banbille (Eimriot. 


Oh swing low, sweet cha-riot, Pray let me enter in, I don' want to 


,«_i_ , _| 1 a — ^— F -f-» — I — -*— #-*--F-p#- 

t I -I 1 ^— 1- — -1^ -r-m — I ^"V"' — r'~ 


stay here 

I done been to heaven, an' I done been tried, I 
Oh down to de wa - ter I was led, my 




*<^'% -•■■»• •#• -*^ ^ 
been to de water, an' I been baptized, I don' want to stay here no longer, 
soul got fed with de heav'nly bread, I don' want to stay here no longer. 




2 I had a little book, an' I read it through, 
I got my Jesus as well as you; 

I don' want to stay here no longer; 
Oh I got a mother in de promised land, 
I hope my mother will feed dem lambs; 

I don' want to stay here no longer. 
Cho. — Oh swing low, sweet chariot, &c. 

3 Oh, some go to church for to holler an' shout. 
Before six months dey're all turned out; 

I don' want to stay here no longer. 
Oh, some go to church for to laugh an' talk. 
But dey knows no thin' bout dat Christian walk; 

I don' want to stay here no longer. 
Cho. — Oh, swing low, sweet chariot, &c. 

4 Oh shout, shout, de deb'l is about; 
Oh shut your do' an' keep him out; 

I don' want to stay here no longer. 
For he is so much-a like-a snaky in de grass, 
Ef you don' mind he will get you at las', 
I don' want to stay here no longer. 
Cho. — Oh, swing low, sweet chariot, «fcc. 



3Bf i)e toant to see Jesus. 

" My father sang this liynin, and said he knew a time when a great many slaves were allowed 
to have a revival for two days, while their masters and their families had one ; and a great many 
professed religion. And one poor, ignorant man, professed religion, and praised God, and sang 
this hymn." 


Ef yo -want to see Je 

sus, Go in 

de wilderness, Go in 

-«9- •< — y—- 





-» — r # — — ^—n ' — 



wil - der-ness, Go in the -wilderness, Ef ye want to see Je - sus, 







- m — w — I 



_ — . — I — i — |- _, — • — , — , — — — 



<&- _ 

Go in de wilderness Lean- in' on de Lord. Oh, brother how d'ye 
I J ,1 felt so 





-* — >-« « — 12*^ •- -i 1 y—y^ ^Q 

I I I i ^ "^ tT\ \ 

IC — ■ — 





feel, when ye come out de wil - der-ness, come out de wil - der-ness, 
happy when I come out de wil - der-ness, come out de wil - der-ness, 

_ .#-.#..(_ -: 4_ .^ .^ .,^u 4_ H 

------- ^ — ; 

w w — ■-» O' v — re" V ri^ — I-: 


2^ ^ 

-I — -F- 

1 ~\-4—\^^^ 

.::^^E — — « — I 

come out de wil- der-ness. Oh brud-der, how d'ye feel when ye 
oome out de wil - dor-ness. I felt so happy when ^ I 

Q-_L-fc_ -=:i==.t— FL=i:*=rg=|-=-3=i *■ ~ 



p. — ^ — 


3Hf l)e Ujaut to sec ^t^M^,— Concluded. 


r- -4- 


come out de wil - der-ness, Lean- in' on de Lord. Oh lean - in' 
come out do wil - der-ness, Lean- in' on de Lerd. 

■♦• -i^ •*•■*-•*- ^ rD ^ I I ■i'9- -i9- -i9- 

-^ -12. 

:(^ — 

^ ^ 


,< 1 L. L^ L^_ g ^ 







-I — 

de Lord, Lean - in' on de Lord, Oh lean - in' np 

-15^ '^- 




« — 





-'I f" 

on de Lamb of God, who was slain on 



-«>- : 4— 




2 I shouted Hallelujah, Avhen I come out de -wilderness — 

Leanin' on de Lord ; 
I heard de angels singin', when I come out de -wilderness — 

Leanin' on de Lord ; 
I heard de harps a harpin,' -when 1 come out de -wilderness — 

Leanin' on de Lord. 
Cho. — Oh, leanin' on de Lord. 

3 I heard de angels moanin', when I come out de wilderness — 

Leanin' on de Lord ; 
I heard de deb'l howlin', when I come out de wilderness — 

Leanin' on de Lord ; 
I gib de deb'l a battle, when I come out de -wilderness — 

Leanin' on de Lord. 
Cho. — Oh, leanin' on de Lord. 




Oh, yes! Oh, yes! I tell ye, breth-er - en, a mor-tal fac'. 



Oh, yes! Oh, jes ! Ef ye want to get to heab'n, don't nebber look back, 


■ — « !i=;t5z:zi!izLy*z*z 

Oh, yes ! Oh, yes ! I w 

^^=t=?=:r^ — "—V' c 

Oh, yes! Oh, yes! I want to know-a before I go, Ob, yes! Oh, ^s ! 
Ebber since I hab-a been newly born. 


Ob, yes! Oh, yes ! 


^~^~r N- 

Yea, whether you love - a de Lord or no, 
I love for to see - a God's work go on,' 



Oh, yes! Oh, yes! 


Oh, wait till I put on my robe, wait till I put on my robe. 


®i)t ^^^' — Concluded. 

Wait till 

I put on my robe, Oh, 


—- h— ^ • — r-ri • S 1 1— r^ 0- 

i^~ 0-- r0 — >i 1 H ' 0- 






Ef eber I land on de oder sho', Oh, yes, 
I'll nebber come here for to sing no mo'. 

Oh, yes; 
A golden band all round my waist, 
An' de palms ob vic-a-try in-a my hand, 
An' de golden slippers on to my feet, 
Gwine to walk up an' down o' dem golden 

Cho. — Oh, wait till I put on my robe. 

An' my lovely bretherin, dat aint all. Oh, 

I'm not done a talkin' about my Lord; 
An' a golden crown a-placed on a-my head, 
An' my long white robe a-come-a-dazzlin' 

Now wait till I get on my gospel shoes, 
Gwine to walk about de heabenan' a-car- 

ry de news. 
Cho. — Oh, wait tiU I put on my robe. 

I'm anchored in Christ, Christ anchored 

in me, Oh, yes, &c., 
All de deb'ls in hell can't-a-pluck a-me 

An' I wonder what Satan 's grumbulin' 

He's bound into hell, an' he can't git out. 
But he shall be loose an' hab his swaj'. 
Yea at de great resurrection day. 
Cho. — Oh, wait till I put on my robe. 

Verses, some of which are of (en added as 

I went down de hill side to make a-one 
prayer, Oh, yes, 

An' when T got dere, old Satan was desi^. 

Oh, yes. 
An' what do ye t'ink he said to me? 

Oh, yes. 
Said, "Off from here you'd better be." 

Oh, yes; 
An' what for to do, I did not know. Oh, 

But I fell on my knees, an' I cried. Oh, 

Lord, Oh, yes. 
Now my Jesus bein' so good an' kind, 
Yea, to de with-er-ed, halt an' blind; 
My Jesus lowered his mercy down, 
An' snatch-a-me from a-dem doors ol? hell, 
He snatch-a-me from dem doors ob hell, 
An' took-a me in a-wid him to dwell. 
Cho. — Oh, wait till I put on my robe. 

I was in de church an' prayin' loud. 
An' on my knees to my Jesus bowed, 
Ole Satan tole me to my face, 
" I'll git you when-a-you leaye displace;" 
Oh, brother, dat scare me to my heart, 
I was 'fraid to walk a- when it was dark. 
Cho. — Oh, wait till I get on my robe. 


I started home, but I did pray. 
An' I met ole Satan on de way ; 
Ole Satan made a-one grab at me. 
But he missed my soul, an' I went free. 
My sins went a-lumberin' down to hell, 
An' my soul went a-leapin' up Zion's hill ; 
I tell ye wJiat, brethenn, you'd better not 

Ole Satan '11 run you down his path; 
If he runs you, as he run me. 
You'll be glad to fall upon yoiir knee. 
Cho.— Oh, wait till I put on my robe. 



.0 — — I 1 # \-0 — —.0 — I ff— 1-^_--_^ — : 

EuD, Ma - ry, run, Run, Ma - ry, run, Oh, run, Ma - ry, run, I 




know de od - er worl' 'm not l?ke dis. Fire in de 

Jordan's rib - er 

'^—^ — n / — 1^ — y — r — n — hi u — i — -it- 

east, an' 

od - ei" 
od - er 

worl' 'm not 
worl' m not 


Bound to burn de wil-der-ness, I know de od - er worl' m not like dis. 
Si^#ch vourrod an' come a - cross, I know, &c. 


2 Swing low, chariot, into de east, I know, &c. 
Let God's children hab some peace; I know, &c. 
Swing low, chariot, into de west; I know, &c. 
Let God's children hab some rest; I know, &c.- 

3 Swing low, chariot, into de north ; I know, &c. 
Gib me de gold widout de dross ; I know, &c. 
Swing low, chariot, into de south ; I know, &e. 
Let God's children sing and shout; I know, &c.- 

4 Ef dis day war judgment day, I know, &c. 
Ebery sinner would want to pray; I know, &c. 

Dat trouble it come like a gloomy cloud; I know, &c. 
Gader tick, an' tnnder loud; I know, &c. — Cho. 





IReligion ig a J^crtune. 

_^- - . . _ S_ _S_^S_J^! . _ J g 

Oh, re-lig-ion is a fortune, I ra - ly do be-lieve, Oil, re - 

JL ^ M. ^ . 

' — j^ — I-- — C» » r '■ Fe P — i. 

-zN — r~ 

7 — t^—g »i— h^— gi— r^— La-. -g|— g - • i:^t!lizLiizi|^_tpL_ a e__ 

> -*■ •-*■-#■ 

brtune, I ra - ly do believe 


ligion is a fortune, I ra - ly do believe, Oli, re - li-gion is a 


I ra 


ly do be-lieve, Wliar sab-baths have no end. 


— _i — |-i 1 1 1 — p#. 

«—!;-•— '» — » — ■ — -g 

^-F-D— ED — \^ — »-•— g— EF 




N N 

^eEB^Epl=fcfg£^gEJ=gE|^ £l^E 


Whar ye been, poor mourner, whar ye been so long; Been low down in de 

val - ley for to pray, An' I 

Alto take'^^B ic A ^ 

aint done pray - ing yet. 

2 Gwine to sit down in de kingdom, I raly do believe, "Whar Sabbaths, &c. 
Gwine to walk about in Zion, I raly do believe, Whar Sabbaths, &c. 

Duo. — Whar ye ben young convert, &c. 

3 Gwine to see my sister Mary, T raly do believe, Whar Sabbaths, &c. 
Gwine to see my brudder Jonah, I raly do believe. 

Duo. — Whar ye ben good Christian, &c. 

4 Gwine to talk-a wid de angels, I raly do believe, Whar Sabbaths, &c., 
Gwine to see my massa Jesus, I raly do believe, Whar Sabbaths, &c. 



gome 0' trese IBornin'^, 



— #■- 




Gwine to see my moth-er some o' dese mornin's, seemy moth-er 
Oh, sittin' in de kingdom some o' dese mornin's, sittin' in de kingdom 



> <> 

#— Li^- 

-V — i 


-#- — #- 




some o' dese mornin's, See my moth-er, some o' dese morn - in's, 
some o' dese mornin's, Sittin' in de kingdom, some o' dese morn - in's. 

*.#.•#- -^ -«- -•-•#-*•#■ •#-• r- * 


■0- -^ ■0- 




Look a -way 





Look a-way 

in de heav-en, .... Look a - 

Look a-way in de heaven, 


C ^_i 3 

in de heav-en, .... Look a - 

Hope I'll jine de band. 
Hope I'll jine de band. 

Look a -way in de heaven. 
Look away in de heaven. 



Some o' Xre^e M^xmxC^,— Continued 



in de heav - en, ... . Look a - way 

in de 

in de heav - en . Look a - way 

in de 

-1^ — (J-= 



Look a -way in de heaven, 
Look a-way in de heav-en. 



in de 
Look a-way in de 
p— •---p— # — #-•-#- 
"T-b — p'— i \J — ^ - 

heaven. Lord, Hope I'll jine de band. 

Look a-way 

beav- en. Lord, Hope I'll jine de band, 

Look away,. 

-\f— w ^ g \- 




heav - en. Lord, Hope I'll jine de band, 

Look a -way 

:5-? ?-^ 

in de 

Look a - 

1/ V 
in de 



heav - en, Lord, Hope I'll jine de band, 
heav - en. Lord, Hope I'll jine de band, 

Look a - 
Look away in de 




— 0-^-0-0 — #-•-#— 



Some 0* trcse §^^x\x\xC^,— Concluded. 

heav - en, 

Look a 


ill de hea - ven, 

S S ' ' 

Look a - 

a ^T^ — ■ 7^-| — V~ — 3 ^TS ^'-TN — ■ !>r- 

q • « ^1 . I —tzj |g>— . 

« 0-1-0- — >-• i ^...•_^_L^' ^-i-*-j 

-way in (ieheav-en, Look a -way in de heaven, 
Look a-way Look a-way .... 


heav - en, . . 
heaven, Look a-way 

in de heav-en, 

in de heaven. Look a-way 

-0 • [-0 — i^_« «_ 

-0- i- 0~r 0-^0 r s 

way in de heav-en, 

Look a -way in de heav-en, 
Look a -way in de heaven, 



In de hea -ven, Lord, Hope I'll 


0~'-0 — *-0 

■ L 

de band. 

hea -ven. Lord, Hope I'll jine 
hea-ven. Lord, Hope I'll jine 

de band. 

T — 0-' — r0 

— F^ — ^^ ^ . ' 

j^-C| j ^^0-^0— 0-'-o- 

de heav-en, Lord, Hope I'll jine 

■ J ! ^J_^H^ 

^ — * 

Look a-way 

de hea-ven, Lord, Hope I'll 
de heav-en, Lord, Hope I'll 


de band. 

ofe* band, 
de band. 

-^^—- 0- '—0 #- • -0 r.0 f- — — I 1 p, 

2 Gwine to see my brother some o' dese mornin's; 
Oh, shouting in de heaven some o' dese mornin's, 

Hope I'll jine de band. Cho. — Look away. 

3 Gwine to walk abotit in Zion, some o' dese mornin's, 
Gwine to talk-a with de angels some o'dese mornin's, 

Hope I'll jine de band. Cho. — Look away. 

4 Gwine to talk de trouble ober some o' dese mornin's, 
Gwine to see my Jesus some o' dese mornin's, 

Hope I'll jine de band, Cho. — Look away. 


Mlfl itottr treliijerexi Baniel. 


- ^^-- # \-0— .—* »—» — 0-i-\ » < & \- 0-~' 0—0—0-'-{-(g — g s — 

My Lord de - lib-ered Dan - iel, My Lord de-lib-ered Dan - iel, My 

; ; V-\- I i 1 — I I i HI —I 1 1 \-0 tg 

-^^»— ti»— i— B^^^t — 0-^—0 iS* — 1|^---» — »— i»---tt — P P — 

1 1 I : : I , ' I I I I.I ' > I 


tf — : — *• — --' 0---\-0 19 • \-0 0—'. —0 ' ^_ • ^L^_i_.:| 

p— hp— I 1 , ' ti ^ s-T-Lg^-.-J 

Lord de - lib-ered Dan - iel; Why can't 

»— ^— » » 0-^-^0 .B? 1 ^\ 









* — * — 0- 

,_.._^.__j — 

I met a pil-grim on de way, An' I ask him whar he's a gwine. I'm 


—0 — 1 — P-J — ! ^— P-P — I ^-^^ 1- 

bound for Canaan's hap - py Ian', An' dis is de shout-ing band. Go on! 


Some say dat John de Baptist 

Was nothing but a Jew, 
But de Bible doth inform us 

Dat he was a preacher, too; 
Yes, he was ! 

Cho.— My Lord delibeied Daniel. 

Oh, Daniel cast in de lions den, 
He pray both night an' day, 

De angel came from Galilee, 
An' lock de lions' jaw. 

Dat's so. 
Cho. — My Lord delibered Daniel. 

He delibered Daniel from de lions' den, 

Jonah from de belly ob de whale, 
And de Hebrew children from de fiery 
And why not ebery man ? 

Oh, yes! 
Cho. — My Lord delibered Daniel. 


De richest man dat eber I saw 
Was de one dat beg de most, 

His soul was filled wid Jesus, 
And wid de Holy Ghost. 
Yes it was! 

Cho. — My Lord delibered Daniel. 



Oh, wasn't dat a wide 



Eib - er ob Jor - dan, Lord, 





Oh, you got Je - sus, hold him fast, 
'Tis stronger dan an i - ron band, 


'ib - er to cross; 

*-•*-•♦■ r I 

One more rib-er to cross, 

One more rib-er to cross, 

-•-■•- -9- -0- . 


^ 2a. 



Oh, bet-ter love was neb-ber told, 
'Tis sweeter dan dat hon-ey comb, 

One more rib-er 
One more rib-er 

Oh, de good ole chariot passing by. 

One more riber to cross, 
She jarred de earth an' shook de sky. 

One more, &c. , 
I pray, good Lord, shall I be one? 

One more, &c.. 
To get up in de chariot, trabbel on. 

One more, &c. 
Cho. —Oh, wasn't dat a wide riber ? &c. 
We're told dat de fore-wheel run by love, 

One more, &c,, 
We're told dat de hind wheel run by faith, 

One more, &c.. 

I hope I shall get dere bimeby, 

One more, &c., 
To jine de number in de sky. 

One more, &c. 
Cho. — Oh, wasn't dat a wide riber ? &c. 
Oh, one more riber we hab to cross, 

One more, &c., 
'Tis Jordan's riber we hab to cross, 

One more, &c.. 
Oh, Jordan's riber am chilly an' cold. 

One more, &c.. 
But I got de glory in-a my soul. 

One more, &c. 
Cho. — Oh, wasn't dat a wide riber? &c. 






gibe toag, JoruaiL 


Oh, give way, Jordan, give way, Jordan, Oh, give way, 

Jordan, give way, Jordan, give vray, 

Jordan, I 


^ A £. 

-I 1 


■^ -f2.. 


H*. .,32. 


— *-.— <^ 

want to 




^ S_ s /r. DUET. 


1 — 


- cross 



'I y — I — 


to see my Lord. Oh, 

-(9- — o 0- 

-W «- 

-\ 1 1 — 

heard a sweet mu - sic 
heard a sweet mu - sic 



a - bove 
de air, 



I want to go a - cross to see my Lord; An' I 
I want to go a - cross to see my Lord; An' I 





wish dat music would come here, I want to go 
wish dat music would come here, I want to go 

to see my Lord, 
to see my Lord. 
^r.e.' M^M. ^^^^ 

^-F-y— ^' — F~ »- 


Oh, stow back, stowback de powers of hell, 

I want to go across to see my Lord, 
And let God's children take de field, 

I want to go across to see my Lo^d. 
Now stan' back Satan, let me go by, 

I want to go across, &c. , 
Gwine to serve my Jesus till I die, 

I want to go across, &c.-^Cho. 


Soon in de mornin' by de break ob day, 

I want to go across, &c,. , 
See de ole ship ob Zion sailin' away, 

I want to go across, &c., 

I must go across, an' I shall go 
I want to go across, &c. , 
Dis sinful world I count but dross, 
I want to go across, &c. — Cho. 
Oh, I heard such a lumbering in de sky, 

I want to go across, &c. , 
It make a-me t'ink my time was nigh, 

I want to go across, &c.. 
Yes, it must be my Jesus in de cloud, 

I want to go across, &c., 
I nebber heard him speak so loud — 
I want to go across, &c. — Cho. 



Jofjn Sato. 


TO J ! • — 




Jolm saw, Oh, John saw, John saw cle ho - ly num-ber, 

-I i — - — F- • 1* H 1 


-f — ' 

:» ^ id — =■ 

Set-tin on dc gold - en ■ al - tar. 

1. Wor - thy, wor - thy 
g g « *- 

-y — © L.; 1^ ^ ^ 1^ 1 

is the Lamb, is the Lamb, is the Lamb, Wor-thy, wor - thy 

e ^ r-r— r \^—rt -h i r« * « & 

-U 1 , 1 

-\ 1 ■ 1 


^ J, g; — ^= « = = ^^- 

is the Lamb, Set - tin' on de gold - en 

#. A 48- H«- ■«- ^ 

-I '' —I \ i r- 


— «i — 




■y y y- 




2 Mary wept, an' Martha cried — Settin' on, &c. 
To see de'r Savionr crucified— Settin' on, <fec. 
Weepin' Mary, weep no more — Settin' on, &c. 
Jesus say He gone before — Settin' on, &c. 

Oho. — John saw, &c. 

3 Want to go to' hebben when I die — Settin' on, &c. 
Shout salvation as I fly — Settin' on, &c. 

It's a little while longer here below — Settin' on, &c. 
Den-a home to glory we shall go — Settin' on, &c. 
Oho. — John saw, &c. 



— [ — « — « — « — «— — IJ- 

l^ing lEmanueL 

.S I K S N N N 


_L« a — g — J 

-^ 9 j, V ■ ^- 

1. Oh, who do you call de King E-man-u - el; I call my Je - sus 





King E-man - u - el. Oh. de King E - man - u - el is a 
— fi-l—T—»-'^fi ^— -r— * — ^— T— i- ^ — fi-'—» — ^ ^ ^ — 

^~9 — b' — g — f — F — ^—'V—\j — b— i»-^g — h — 5 — f — r — r — 

F • 

might-y 'man-u - el ; 


call my Je -sns KingEman - it 
A hC je. • jg. 


2 Oh, some call Him Jesus ; but I call Him Lord, 

I call my Jesus King Emanuel ; 
Let's talk about de hebben, an' de hebben's fine t'ings, 

I call my Jesus King Emanuel. 
Cho. — Oh de King Emanuel, &c. 

3 Oh steady, steady, a little while ; 

I call my Jesus King Emanuel ; 
I will tell you what my Lord done for me ; 

I call my Jesus King Emanuel. 
Cho. — Oh de King Emanuel, &c. 

4 He pluck-a my feet out de miry clay ; 

I call my Jesus King Emanuel ; 
He sot dem a-on de firm Eock o' Age; 

I call my Jesus King Emanuel. 
Cho, — Oh de King Emanuel, &c. 



3ie ole S!)^^P troue tnoii) tfe Hoatr. 


-N — 1-^ 

Oh de ole sheep done know de road, De ole sheep done know de road, De 

, ^ H«. • ^ ^ #. i 

!ST#-o:^f=fi=rfiiz f=?=p?=^=p=p:==rzrz?=t:=:r=Ff--=f=f=v='== 

-&— y- 




ole sheep done know de road, De young lambs mus' find de way. 

J 1 1 — _l — i 1 1 g 

-I — 
-0 0- 



\> V 

Oil, Roon-er in de mornin' when I rise, De young lambs mus' find de way. 
My brudder aint ye got yer counts all sealed, De young lambs, &c. 



-\ \- ^0-'-'r-. ' 

D.C. dal Cho. 






Wid crosses an' tri-als on eb - ry side, De young lambs mus' find de way. 
You'd bet-ter go get em 'fore ye leave dis field, De young lambs, &c. 





2 Oh, shout my sister, for you are free, De young lambs, &c., 
For Christ hab bought your liberty, De young lambs, &c., 
I raly do believe widout one doubt, De young lambs, &c., 

Dat de Christian hab a mighty right to shout, De young lambs, &c. 
Cho.— Oh, de ole sheep, &c. 

3 My brudder, better mind how you walk on de cross, De young lambs, &c., 
For your foot might slip, an' yer soul git lost, De young lambs, &c.. 
Better mind dat sun, and see how she run, De young lambs, &c.. 

An' mind don't let her catch ye wid yer works undone, De young lambs, &c. 
Cho.— Oh, de ole sheep, &c. 



Mt orijurdj of (Botr, 





De church of 

-+i-« — ^— =■ — «— F- 

God dat sound, so 



De cliurclx Of God datsoundso sweet, De 

■H-^aJ — i-i — ^ — \-<5>.- 




Li k^ E?"" h r,* 


de church of God . 



-» 0- 

-^ N 

churcli of God, de cliurcli of 


^9 . 

God, Dat sound so sweet, sweet, dat sound so sweet, 

God, dat sound so sweet. 

sweet, so sweet. 

J I >^ 

_■= s ^ 

Look up 


see. Bright 









an - gels com - m ar 



me. ar - ter me. 

J. N 

* — »--F* • * -HI 



Oh, Jesus tole you once before, 
To go in peace an' sin no more ; 
Oh, Paul an' Silas bound in jail. 
Den one did sing, an' de oder pray. 
Cho. — De church ob God, &c. 


Oh, did you hear my Jesus say 
" Come unto me, I am de way ; " 
Oh, come along, Moses, don't get lost. 
Oh, stretch your rod, an' come across. 
Cho. — De church ob God, &c. 



i3rigf)t g>parfele^ in ^t Cijurdjijartii, 

This peculiar but beautiful medley was a great favorite among the hands in the tobacco 
factories in Danville, Va. 



-$t— i— : 

— I «— '--(S*— ; — m — 

-#- -*- -6^ -0- 

I — I 

May de Lord — He will be glad of me .... May de Lord — ^He 

i^}-T\3—0 — » — F'ts'— -— » — F» — » — F — » — F — -F, — [-^ — !*— F-i — 

w — i—^ 




will he glad of me . . May de Lord — He will be glad of me; 

_P I ^ ^:i ^n m A ^ 1 i ; i i .r^__ 




■^— ?- 

In de heav-en He'll re - joice. In de beav-en, once, In de 




-h— L-'- 





^— ?- 


a 1 — F=^ ^ K- 

heav - en, twice, In de heav - en He'll re - joice, In de 

-#.♦-••♦- .#. .^ .#. .*. - ^ » 




» • — — F-, 

heav-en, once, In de beaven, twice, In de heav-en He'll re - joice. 


§^r=g=g=|=r? ^ 

^— ^ 


-25»— i 



33rig!)t SparklciS m ^z €\)MXt\}^wc^,— Continued. 

DUO — Soprano and Tenor. 





Bright spar-kles in de cliurcli-yard, Give light xin - to de tomb, 

-»- •0- -»■ -0- S- -»■ -^ . 

-^— F 



1st & 2d Soprano 

I 1 .1 

& Alto. 

H ^^— 



=^ q 


summer, spring 

SO- ver, 




de'r bloom. 






-^ \y ^ 


-^— ** 


Bright sparkles in de church-yard Give light un - to de tomb, Bright 

-0 »- 


— #- 




-« (S( « — ht- 



-« — ,- 

-0- -»- 
sum-mer, springs over, sweet flow-ers in der bloom. My mother, once, my 

1 j j J- I 1- I 

-» »-- 

?— si- 




^-1 ^- 


--N — ^- 



mother, twice, my mother she'll re-joice. In de heaven, once, in de 

-^— ?- 


-P» tf^ O- 

— ^ 

•^— ^ 


13rici!)t Sparkles in M ^\)Vin\\i^^x1i,— Continued. 

. I 2a TIME. 

heaven, twice, In de heaven she'll re-joice, In de heaven she'll rejoioe, 

'"^•^^ J- J I 1 






•f- \ I 1 i^ I ^ ' 

Mother, rock me in de era- die all de day Mother, 

all de day, 
-».••#- .&-'•»■ ■»- ■#- ■•■•■•- -^ ■•-'■»- -«- , 


L. 1 1 =S=F-i — KF^ ' — 

rock me in de era - die all 


da y . . . Moth - er, 

P^-—» 1- 


-1^ — \ 




• II I.I .A. ■^■ 

rock me in de era - die all de 

day Moth-er, 

all de day, 






rock me 


_« • 









: ^ c^: 



13tigljt Sparlvles in ^e ^i)nxci)^axt(.— Continued. 


me in de era -die all de day... 



2— pt 



era - die all de day. 

oil, moth-er, don't ye love yer dar - lin' 

-sj — g" 

I I -O- -6>- ^^ -ir 1^ 

cbild, Oh, rock me in de era-die all de da y^ . . . Oh, 


-j 1 \- 1^^-^-^^- 



i3rigijt Spatltles in tre (S^'^MXtiy^Mti,— Continued. 

motli-er, don't ye love yer dar - lin child? Oh, rock me in de 

J — ' 


fe 1 "=]=3 t- 

- — i- 

- ; A 

r:H— n'-H-i- 

1 1 


era - die all de 




'.-i i — i — 5— 

rock me in de 

f. #. #. -p. 

^ XT-. 

sra - die, 

A A- 




:g 'ff -: k _i_ i ^ 
-p — 1 — 4-1 1 1 1 — 

-■^ « — •- 




.1 1 

^ r r r r 


Moth-er, rock me in the era - die, moth-er, 





rock me in 

de era - die, 

I I , 

rock me in de era - die all de 

— l^-F— ^ -»- 



-F » — i'~ |~ 

rock me in 

de era - die, mother, 


-»- -»-'-0- 

mother, day. All de day all de day. 

—I f—ir-^^-^—i — ■ T •---«■ 




Oh, rock me 



de era - die 


— ^—pff 

de day 


Btigijt Sparkles in tJC (Eijtirdjgartif. — Concluded, 



9 . 

€ r - 


^ ' 9 

ay ^ — * 

¥ - 







0. \ 


... aU 



all de 



— ^ — r/^ 

> f 


ri^ 1- 1 1 


U - -=^=„ 

■- ' 



— >.,,,, ^^ 

-1 >^ — fS' 

-I -V ■ r- 


w ^^ 



— 1 



: ^ 

rock me 


:— S — 




r* — 



■♦- . 

— u — r- 


Lii' — J 

,« — 

— 1 — 

- ^ 


— » — - 

- =^ : 


— ^ 

1 p 


— f — -^ 

— ^ — 



1 — 

— 1 — 

— a — 1 


J — i — ,-j-h: 

, P I P I ^ 
lay me down to sleep, my mother dear, Oh, rock me in de cradle all de 

dear, Oh, rock me in 

de era - die 

.*_•- « c_i__«::±_fe pinipzrTziitfZi i:[ii_Jd 

t- — ^— I p-T-1 ^ r u=^-^^-^-^ 



Jutygmeut Baj) is a:=rciUin' aroimtr. 


Judgment, Judgment, Judgment day is 
^ ^ ^ 

■#- -t9- +- -I— 4— ■»- 

g g eS — I 

a - roll - in' a-round, 





:?S==3=y— 3 


+ — I- 


Judgmenfc, Judgment, Oh, liow I 


— * — -, 






--s — 

5^— J- ^i-H^ 

I've a good ole 
I've a good ole 

• V Is r- jr--f N.f ^^ ^ ■ ^^^- J J 

^ ^ ._H__H_I_^ g * g 33 

mud-der in de heav - en, my Lord, 
fa - der in de heav - en, my Lord, 




lA — ^r — i 

-^ 9 1 1 — 

Oh, how I long to go dere too; I've a good ole mudder in de 
Oh, how I long to go dere too; I've a good ole fa- der in de 

-^ r--T— I 1 1 *-T-l ' Tl 

I — r" 


heav-en, my Lord, Oh, how I long 
heav-en, my Lord, Oh, how I long 


:?— ; 

to go. 
to go. 

Judg - ment, 

-f — w ■ r- w~ T — ^^ — TTi — ^ r:^ ^ — 

-\ »—. — i --+ — •Tr~* — '^ ^zf — 


Jutrgment ©ag i^ a^rDllin* axounti,— Concluded. 

1 1 


^ 2 .-^4 .; 

- J 

d — F-jpi^ ^ ^1 i — - 



Judg-ment day 

Ht H«. 4t 

J)—-; N- 

roll - in' a - round, 

Dar's a long white robe in de heaven 
for me, 
Oh, how I. long to go dere too ; 
Dar's a starry crown in de heaven for 
Oh, how I long to go. 
My name is written in de book ob 
Oh, how I long to go dere too, 
Ef you look in de book you'll fin'em 
Oh, how I long to go. 

Brudder Moses gone to de kingdom. 
Oh, how I long to go dere too ; 
Sister Mary gone to de kingdom. 
Oh, how I long to go. 
Dar's no more slave in de kingdom, 
Oh, how I long to go dere too, 
All is glory in de kingdom, Lord, 
Oh, how I long to go. 

My brudder build a house in Para- 
Oh, how I long to go dere too ; 
He built it by dat ribber of life. 

Oh, how I long to go. 
Dar's a big camp meetin' in de king- 
dom, Lord, 
Oh, how I long to go dere too, 
Come, let us jine dat a heavenly 
Oh, how I long to go. 

King Jesus sittin' in de kingdom, 

Oh, how I long to go dere too ; 
De angels singin' all round de trone. 

Oh, how I long to go. 
De trumpet sound de Jubilo, 

Oh, how I long to go dere too, 
I hope dat trump will blow me 

Oh, how 1 long to go. 



#1), Stoer, gcu'tj tetter get teatifg. 

■S. CSO, ■' K , 


-^— T-^ ! — 

« — fl — 

ist -^ -^ 
Oh, sin-ner, you'd bet-ter get rea - dy, Eea - dy, my Lord, 

_d_g t. ff * 'r° ° |»s' '^~ " g . •< — ■! — 

-« « —m -\ ' 1- 


rea - dy, Oh, sin-ner, you'd bet-ter get rea - dy, For the 


:« s: 

_^ »^ 






— ^— 
— I- 

-->, — N-q: 

1 « « 9 — {—^ « W 1 1 H i 1 1 H 

-a- -& 

time is a - comin' dat sinner must die. Oh, sinner man, you had 


F — F— «- 

If — pi__i*— (S- 

.-»- -^ ■»- -I0- -w- •»- ^ 



• ^ 

H— >, N — N N — I— T-fcH- — ^^ — •' i- 

# — tf — — # — — 4- — a — g — * ^_ 


bet-ter pray, Time is a - com-in' dat sin-ner must die ; 

•♦■ S- •»• -9- -0- •»- •«- -^ -O- •»- 




For it look -a like judgment eb - ry day. 


Time is a-comin' dat 
F— « 

■»- -0- •»- 

u u u 


©ij, SbixiMXy pulr tetter get xtd^^i^,— Concluded. 



sin-ner must die ; 



I heard a lumbring in de sky, 

._u 1 N— N, — N — ^_J_ tHN_^N_J 1_ 

-Ol -J 1 1 1 1 1 1^0, ^ 1— fF- A—m a— -s a- 

Time is a - comin' dat sinner must die, Dat make-a me t'ink my 



-t^— ? — ^— P — I — ' 


Z)<i Capo dal Segno. 

sin-ner must 





I heard of my Jesus a many one say — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die. 
Could 'move poor sinner's sins away — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die. 
Yes, I'd rather a pray myself away — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die, 
Dan to lie in hell an' burn a-one day — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die. 
Cho. — Oh, sinner, you'd better get ready, &c. 

I think I heard a my mother say — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die, 
'Twas a pretty thing a to serve de Lord — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die. 
Oh, when I get to Heaven I'll be able for to tell — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die, 
Oh, how I shun dat dismal hell — 

Time is a-comin' dat sinner must die. 
Cho. — Oh, sinner, you'd better get ready, &c. 



f^ear tic Eamts a aTtgin'. 


You liear de lambs a cry - in', Hear de lambs a cry - in', 


_^_ — 


:-- q5 — I — [- N ~ :>;rz:j=zniz>:i 

— #-i-'-ft# — iJ 

Hear de lambs a cry - in', Ob, shepherd, feed - a my sheep. 

-f9- ' 

c — r i ' — r~iiTi:" 

-z=^=E^=z=^— ^z:zLz:E:p: 



ij — g _._j_ 



Our Sav - iour spoke dese words so sweet : " Oh shep -herd, 


1 ^- 


feed -a my sheep. Said, "Pe- ter, if ye love me. 


— -b— -r: 

-P V ' 



— — ' — iS* 0- — f — ^^0 a — ' — ^- 


feed my sheep." Oh, shep-herd, feed - a my sheeiD. Oh, 

••-■•-* m a m •*- 

i—t-b a__ ^_i_E_;^ — i^i \ ^ — L- : 



i^ear tre Eamigi a (tx^xxC,— Concluded. 




Lord, I love Thee, Thou dost know; Oh, shep-herd, 


# « « « 1— s^ 

-~0 1 r— 


a my sheep; 

Oh, give me grace to 



-A — -^- 



'^ ! [-=N==N I -^^=11 

-0 0__ — \-^0 ij 

love Thee mo'; Oh, shep-herd, feed a my sheep. 

-i=—. — — I 



2 I don' know what you want to stay here for, Oh, shepherd, &c., 
Por dis vain world's no friend to grace. Oh, shepherd, &c., 

K I only had wings like Noah's dove, Oh, shepherd, &c., 
I'd fly away to de heavens above. Oh, shepherd, &c. 
Cho. — You hear de lambs crying, &c. 

3 When I am in an agony. Oh, shepherd, &c., 
When you see me, pity me, Oh, shepherd, &e., 
For I am a pilgrim travellin' on. Oh, shepherd, &c. , 
De lonesome road where Jesus gone. Oh, shepherd, &c. 

Cho. — You hear de lambs a-crying, &c. 

4 Oh, see my Jesus hanging high, Oh, shepherd. &c.. 
He looked so pale an' bled so free. Oh, shepherd, <tc.. 
Oh, don't you think it was a shame. Oh, shepherd, &c.. 
He hung three hours in dreadful pain. Oh, shepherd, &c. 

Cho. — ^You hear de lambs a-crying, &c. 




Oh, rise an' shine, an' give God de glo - ry, glo - ry, Rise an' 

— • ^ — .«— pi?- • —ft--, 

— "^ — ^-1 i — '-I 1 — i-i — I ^ 

«/ • , ! 1 ' ^ f-^ -i ; 

shine, an' give God de glo - ry, glo - ry, Rise an' shine, an' 

-^-' — •— -• — « — • — - — ft — -"f 1* — r-^— i — 0> a i t 



give God de glo - ry, glo - ry for de year of Ju - ber - lee. 


• J— ^ 





-e'--4-h — 





Je - sus car - ry 

Je - sus lead 

de young lambs in 
de ole sheep by 

his bo - som, bo - som, 
still wa - ters, wa - ters, 


_^ i 



Car-ry de young lambs in his bo - som, bo - som, Car - ry > de 
Lead de ole sheep by still wa - ters, wa - ters. Lead de 



IRise antr S\^[m.— Concluded. 



young lambs in his bo-som, bo-som, For de year ob Ju - ber - lee. 
ole sheep by still wa - ters, wa-ters, For de year ob Ju - ber - lee. 

Ill -J.I 

2 Oh, come on, mourners, get you ready, ready. 
Come on, mourners, get yoa ready, ready, (pis). 

For de year ob jubilee; 
You may keep your lamps trimmed an' burning, burning, 
Keep your lamps trimmed an' burning, burning, (6ts), 

For de year ob jubilee. 

Cho. — Oh, rise an' shine, &c. 

3 Oh, come on, children, don't be weary, weary, 
Come on, children, don't be weary, weary, (6is), 

For de year ob jubilee; 
Oh, don't you hear dem bells a-ringin', ringin', 
Don't you hear dem bells a-ringin', ringin', {bis). 

For de year ob jubilee. 

Cho. — Oh, rise an' shine, &c. 

I^ar^ trials. 


-1^-. — N 



De fox hab bole in de groun', An' de bird . 

nest in de air. 


— t* — ^- 


— N — 


An' eb- ry t'ing hab a hid-ing-place, But we,poor sin-ner, hab none. 


Now aint dat hard tri - 





great trib - u - la - tion, Aint dat hard 




J^arti JS^rials. — Concluded. 

J — ^ 1 l-r — I « — ^ — I — i 1 a- 


# — « — )& — 

tri - als I'm boun' to leabe dis world. 1. Bap-tist, Bap-tist is my name, 

2. Methodist, Methodist is my name, 

3. Presbyterian, Presbyterian, &c. 

5I--SIJ— •— ©■ — •— Fr — t — I h — <«-—£■ 

tist till I die, I'll be baptize in de Bap - tist name. An' I'll 

Metho-dist till I die, I'll be baptize in de Methodist name, An' I'U 
Presbyterian till, &c. Presbyterian name, &c. 

D.S. Clio, al Fine. 



lib on de Bap - tist side. 4. You may go dis - a way. You may 
lib on de Methodist side, 
lib on de Presbyterian side. 



go dat - a way, You may go from do' to do', But ef you 



hab-n't got de grace ob God in you heart, De deb - il will get you sho'. 

5. Now while we are march-in 






a - long dis dread - ful road, 

D.C.dal Cho. 


You had bet - ter stop your dif - fer - ent names. An'— 


iiifloisit Bone ^ratelling. 


-,. i Si — N— H — rr — \ 1 N — V -r, — Kr-^ — K -n 

Oh, my mudder's in de road, Most done trabelling ; My mudder's in de road, 



-y-f— f- 

ost done tra-bel-ling, ] 

^ s— P— n— 5— u-±t_ 

I — j^-^ 


-3 — p- — 1^ 

Most done tra-bel-ling, My mudder's in de road, Most done trabelling. I'm 

•— •— J'zzr 
»— « 

I t 

I — <0- 


-y— y- 

— ,tt3 

«-v — ^ — « — m — * — t — ^ ^ — —^\\-i—m—\-*--— * — ^ a — • — ' 

bound to car-ry my soul to de Lord. 

#. • Ht Hfi. .#. j I 

— :--; — »— •-|----4- -J- — I — »—■ i+K:— •— +-h- 

I'm bound to car-ry my 

A .#. • .^ ^ ^ J^ 



■y— y— i ' 

1st 2(J. rrs 


^?t— = 

-0-. -o- -»■ -»• 

ad to car-ry my soul to de Lord; Lord. 

M. m. ^ \ I 


soul to my Je - sus, I'm bound to car-ry my soul to* de Lord; Lord. 

- . JL JL ^ \ ^ ^ ^ \ I 

C==":— cziii 



Ob, my sister's in de road, 

Most done trabelling, 
My sister's in de road, | , . . ^ 
Most done trabelling. f *-^^^^ 
Cho. — I'm bound to carry, &c. 


Oh, my brudder's in de road. 
Most done trabelling. 

My brudder's in de road, \ ,-l- \ 
Most done trabelling. j v "^ 
Cho. — I'm bound to carry, &c. 

Oh, de preacher's in de road. 

Most done trabelling, 
De preacher's in de road, 

Most done trabelling. 


Cho. — I'm bound to carry, &c, 

All de member's in de road, 
Most done trabelling, 

De members' in de road, I /i- \ 
Most done trabelling. ) ^ ' 
Cho. — I'm bound to carry, &c. 



SbJine up. 


Oh, yes, Tm gwine up, gwineup, gwine all de-way,Lord,GwineTip, 





gwine up to see de hebbenly land. Oh, yes; I m gwme up, gwine up, 

K i" -h- ■^' -^ ■»-■»- -0- ^ \ I K r 


gwine all de way, Lord, Gwine up, gwine up to see de hebbenly land. 

-y— ^-5— ^— f- 

-*s— ^- 

N— q-=s-=N-, 

Oh, saints an' sin-ners will-a you go, 

— 1 N- 

I — -J — -p s:~ih~:i"z^~r — ! — I 

see de hebbenly land, 


— 1 •-- — — 0—0 — — I A 

zz:z=-*zEziizfz=fzr *-* ± ==£Bzzf±if>z^m-i-hh*-} 


I'm a gwine up to heaven for to see my robe. See do hebbenly land, 
■^' -^ -0- -0- -0- _g 

t:^ y ^^ ^^ "[--»--—» —0 -+-, A 


(&\X^iM up. — Concluded. 



— • 1 • — J-- — ^— bi-?t5- j-j— c_*-=iJ 

benly land, 
♦• ■*■ « 

» — »— rl — ^1 

Gwine to see my robe an' try it 



de hebbenly land, 
■^ ■*■■*■ -^ • 
-» — »- 


-^— ^~ 



2>. C. 

-^v=— -■ y-fT#— *— «^— m — 

It's brighter dan-a dat glit-ter-iu' sun, See de hebbenly land. 


-r— i h- 

I'm a gwine to keep a climbin' high — 
See de hebbenly land; 

Till I meet dem-er angels in-a de sky- 
See de hebbenly Ian'. 

Dem pooty angels I shall see — 
See de hebbenly Ian'; 

Why don't de debbil let-a me be — 
See de hebbenly Ian'. 
Cho. — Oh yes, I'm gwine up, &c. 

I tell you what I like-a de best — 

See de hebbenly Ian'; 
It is dem-a shoutin' Methodess — 

See de hebbenly Ian'; 
We shout so loud de debbil look — 

See de hebbenly Ian'; 
An' he gets away wid his cluvven foot — 

See de hebbenly Ian'. 
Oho. — Oh, yes, I'm gwine up, &c. 


J ijopc mj) IHotijcr toill te tijere. 

This was sung by the hands in Mayo's Tobacco Factory, Richmond, and is really called 
" The Mayo Boys' Soug." 

-J- -^ -#■ • • -#- -y. -w -*■ m ' m . 9 

I hope my moth-er will be there, In that beauti - ful world on high. 
That used to join with me in pray'r, In that beauti - ful world on high. 

— z-8- 



, 2d. CBO. 



-» — # — I* — h#---h»-'-k^ — • J 

high. Oh, I will be there Oh I will be there 

! ■ i 

will be there. 

will be there, 

-9 — F*"-^ — 

t 9 * \- »—i- 

With the palms of vie - to - ry, crowns of glo - ry you 
* ^ - ^ - - - 




-y— I — ■ b/- — I— 

shall wear 


that beau - ti - ful world on 




2 I hope my sister will be there, 

In that beautiful world on high, 
That used to join with me in prayer, 
In that beautiful world on high. 
Cho. — Oh, I will be there, &c. 

3 I hope my brother will be there, 

In that beautiful world on high. 

That used to join with me in prayer, 
In that beautiful world on high. 
Cho. — Oh, I will be there, &c. 
4 I know my Saviour will be there, 
In that beautiful world on high. 
That used to listen to my prayer, 
In that beautiful world on high. 
Cho.— Oh, I will be there, &c. 




©ij, tre l^ebten is Sijinin'. 

i ^ L.» » L _ ^ 1 

Oh de heb-ben is sM - nin', shi - nin', O Lord, de heb-ben is shi-nin' 

» » hi F 1 Fr-h 






full ob love. Oh, Fare-you-well, friends, I'm gwine to tell you all ; De 
Oh, when I build a my 

tent a - gin', De 

■?— f 


\ p- »— i — /^* 0—^—0 « 

heb - ben is shi - nin' full ob love ; Gwine to leave you all a - mine 
heb-ben is shi -uin' full ob love; Build it so ole Sa - tan he 





— ' 1 h* ^ — ; »A\ 

-^ ^■ 

eyes to close; De heb - ben is shi - nin' full ob 
can't get in; De heb - ben, &c. 

H«. ^ H*. ^ -^ -^ H«- ■*■ 

5-s — ?-• - - - ■ ■ 


-^— ^ 

:tii— t: 

H 1 ' ' VHT 

2 Death say, ' ' I come on a-dat hebbenly 'ci^ee ; De hebben is, &c. 
My warrant's for to summage thee; De hebben is, &c. 

An' whedder thou prepared or no ; De hebben is, &c. 

Dis very day He say you must go;" De hebben is, &c. — Cho. 

3 Oh, ghastly Death, wouldst thou prevail; De hebben is, &c. 
Oh, spare me yet anoder day; De hebben is, &c. 

I'm but a flower in my bloom ; De hebben is, &c. 

Why wilt thou cut-a me down so soon ? De hebben is, &c. — Oho. 

4 Oh, if I had-a my time agin ; De hebben is, &c. 

I would hate dat road-a dat leads to sin; De hebben is, &c. 
An' to my God a-wid earnest pray ; De hebben is, &c. 
An' wrastle until de break o' day; De hebben is. &c. — Cho. 


S2Eijo'U line tre mnion. " 

■A-r-A l-T-n' ^— J-r- 


Oh, Hal - le - lu - jah, Oh, Hal - le - lu - jah. Oh, Hal 
-)— ^ -^ • •)— -^ •#■ ->*- -.«- ;•*-•♦--(— -«i- -(2. 

^^. I , — f. <&—r~\ 1 — T"! 1 'i9—r-y9—-—»—r-<» # l9—r-\ — 

Ci'-U-t-T* — F-— ^ — te— ; — U-4~i 1 ' 1 — ' ' — +^' 1 1 1 — 1=^- 


H — -r^f- -r— •• — 


H^-- ^-4- 

^. « « g — I — (5P — I — g Al -_l 


- lu -jah, Lord, Who'll jine de U-nion? My ] 

r^rj—r-, — I • fi' — i — ; <9 i 1 — I 1 ir r 

1—0 — ^ 0-^-0. — — I — -- 

how ye do? Who'll jine de U-nion? Oh, does yer love a -con- 




I I 


^L Z^ C — ^ 1 — L — ^_i ^ 

tin - ue 


Who'll jine de U - nion ? Eb 



--f — 1= -^ ^— j— [= r K- ?-^' ?- H 

:zit=:i=z— ff-:^* d_fc: p — b=: . d 

since I hab-a-been new- ly born. Who'll jine 

U - nion ? 


^h- -r— -v ^ 


asaijo'U jine tie '^mt^n,— Concluded. 

1^ :^__^: L_^ ^ 0-^-~0 #-JJ 


to see - a God's -work go on, Who'll jine de U - nion ? 



Ef ye want to ketcli-a dat hebbenly breeze, 

"Who'll jine de Union ? 
Go down in de valley upon yer knees, 

"Wlio'll jine de Union ? 
Go bend yer knees right smoove wid de gToun' 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
An' pray to de Lord to turn you roun', 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
Cho. — Oh, Hallelujah, &c. 


Say, ef you belong to de Union ban', 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
Den here's my heart, an' here's my han'. 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
I love yer all, both bond an' free, 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
I love you ef-a you don't love mc, 

Who'll jine de^ Union ? 
Cho. — Oh, Hallelujah, &c. 

Now ef you want to know ob me, 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
Jess who I am, an' a- who I be. 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
I'm a chile ob God, wid my soul sot free, 

Who'll jine de Union ? 
For Christ hab bought my liberty, 

Wlio'U jine de Union ? 
Cho. — Oh, Hallelujah, &c. 



E great Olamp^meetin' in tie iPromisetr Hantr. 

" This hvmn was made by a company of Slaves,who were not allowed to sing or pray anywhere 
the old master could hear them; and when he died their old mistress looked on them with pity, 
and cranted them the privilege of singing and praying in the cabins at night. Then they sang this 
hymn, and shouted for joy, and gave God the honor and praise." J. B. Towe. 

Ofi walk 
Oh talk 
Oh sing 

to - ged - der, chil-dron, 
to - ged - der, chil-dron, 
to - ged - der, chil-dron, 


— 0—{ 


— i— 




- ry, 



- ry, 



- ry, 

-• — 

- — 0— 

— ^ 


• — ^ 

Walk to - ged - der, chil-dron, 
Talk to - ged - der, chil-dron, 
Sing to - ged - der, chil-dron, 







V • Jt 



wea - ry, 
wea - ry, 
wea - ry, 

— » — , 

Walk to - ged - der, chil-dron. 
Talk to - ged - der, chil-dron, 
Sing to - ged - der, chil-dron. 

Dont yer get wea - ry, Dere's a 




,^ I 

great camp-meetin' in de Promised Land. Gwine to mourn an' rieb-ber 

♦■ ■#■ 1^ ■#- • • . ' 

PSTT 1 1 * — I » — »— r* — *- — • — ?i ^ T ~ 



E great ^^mTj^^\mtX\\\\— Concluded. 

'Mi I i N i - — ^ 1 ■ S I 

i :^. l-'-J— 1 i 4 «— — r-# «— !- . 1 1 I'J !- 

tire, Mourn an' neb - ber 

H «—— p-# (5>-- — I 1 1 1^ ■ , 



Mourn an' neb - ber 

c\\ -_ » '» » — i»_!._i-i_v,^j^_! — c: 



p u k/ r ' • 

Oh get you ready, childrou, Dont you get 

Get you read}', children, Dont you, &c. (bis. 
Dere's a great camp-nieetin' in de Prom- 
ised Land. 
For Jesus is a comin', Dont you get, &c, 
Jesus is a comin', Dont j'ou get, &c., {bis. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de Prom- 
ised Land. 
Gwine to hab a happy meetin', Dont you 

get weary, 
Hab a happy meetin',Dont you get,&c. (6!^. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de Prom- 
ised Land. 
Cho. — Gwine to pray an' nebber tire, 
Pray an' nebber tire, {bis.) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de 
Promised Land. 
Gwine to hab it in hebben, Dont you, &c. 
Gwine to hab it in hebben, Dont, &c. {bis. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de, &c., 
Gwine to shout in hebben, Dont you get 

Shout in hebben, Dont you get, &c;, {bis. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de, &c.. 
Oh will you go wid me, Dont you get, &c. , 
Will you go wid me, Dont you get,&c., (ftis. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de, &c., 
Cho. — Gwine to shout an' nebber tire. 
Shout an' nebber tire, {bis.) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de 
Promised Land, 

Dere's a better day comin', Dont you get 

Better day a comin', Dont you get, &c. , {bis. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de Prom- 
ised Land. 
Oh slap your hands childron, Dont, &c. 
Slap your hands childron, Dont, &c., {bis. 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de Prom- 
ised Land. 
Oh pat your foot childron, Dont you get 

Pat your foot childron, Dont, &c., {bis.) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de Prom- 
ised Land. 
Cho. — Gwine to live wid God forever, 
Live wid God forever, {bis.) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de 
Promised Land. 
Oh, feel de Spirit a movin', Dont you, &c. 
Feel de Spirit a mo-\dn', Dont, &c. , {bis. ) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de, &c. 
Oh now I'm get, in' happy, Dont you get 

Now Pm gettin' happy, Dont, &c., {bis.) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de, &c. 
I feel so happy, Dont you get weary. 
Feel so happy, Dont j'ou get weary, (6is. ) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de, &c. 
Cho. — Oh, fly an' nebber tire. 

Fly an' nebber tire, (bis.) 
Dere's a great camp-meetin' in de 
Promised Land. 



(Bootr nebjs, tre djariot'g comin'. 


Good news, 
Good news . 

de char-iot's com-in', good news, de 

Good news, 


t^ — y- 

z—\i)-V — ^ — 1 
good news, 

I* ^- 

good news, 

cha - riot's comin', good news, 

- - N 1 

de cha - riot's com-in', I 

good news. 


don' want her leave a 

.-,—^-d -f— .— ^- 

me be - hind. 

Gwine to 






get up in de cha - ri - ot, Car - ry me home. 



(Bootr itetDS, tie it\)WC\ot'% tQ\\mx\— Concluded. 


Get up 
ft 1»- 

de cha - ri 

-^^ ^- 


ot, Car - ry me home; 
m -^ ^ » I 



-» »- 


Get up in de cba - ri 


2d. D,c. 


An' I 

don' want her leave a 
^^/_^ ^ c. 

me be 




2 Dar's a long -white robe in de hebben I know, 
A long white robe in de hebben, I know, 

A long white robe in de hebben, I know. 
An' I don' want her leave-a me behind. 
Dar's a golden crown in de hebben, I know, 
A golden crown in de hebben, I know, 
A golden crown in de hebben, I know. 
An' I don' want her leave-a me behind. 
Cho. — Good news, de chariot's comin', &c, 

3 Dar's a golden harp in de hebben, I know, 
A golden harp in de hebben, I know, 

A golden harp in de hebben, I know, 

An' I don' want her leave-a me behind. 
Dar's silver slippers in de hebben, I know. 
Silver slippers in de hebben, I know, 
Silver slippers in de hebben, I know, 
An' I don' want her leave-a me behind. 
Cho. — Good news, de chariot's comin', &c. 


^i^n't ge bietD trat sijip a come a isailin'. 

For \st verse only. 

Dont ye view dat ship a come a sail - in' ? Hal - le - lu - jah, 

^^!z r^i 


-« — V — « — — S- 


m^— pis: 

Dont ye view dat ship a come a sail - in'? Dont 


• -v — I ^_ ■ — I 




view dat 

:I^zv— -b— ^-^-^ 

nj- I -0- * * -0- -*• -+'-* -l5*- -#• 

U I 1 -•■-#■ I 




a come a sail - in? Hal - le - lu - jah. 


-U — -r- 

iibr 2d and all succeeding verses. 


"S w m — 

r f p 



Hal - le - lu - jah, 


©out ge bieb) tiat gljip.— (7owcZw£^ed 

-#— ^ — a — I — e — .;- ^—i — « — « #_i — « « #_ - — #- 


Dat sliip is heav - y. . . . load - ed, Dat 


ship is heav - y load - ed, Dat .... 

^ -•- . ^ ^ ^ , I 

^ p — -^W—^ f—^ — ^ .* ^^g — f — ^ p- 

— t — ; — t/^^^— ?— F=^-r — r — ^ — r^-\ — 1 

^:s=J==:^=N==^=^^=:?5^H-==^3i,zi— =-— fn-— q=-=3a 

-•■ ' -0- . -^ r 7 •*•-»■-* *-0r tS^ -»■ 

, . . ^ ••/III I 1 

snip is heav - y load - ed, Hal - le - lu - Jan. 

w___ __ _ 

2 Dat ship is heavy loaded. Hallelujah, &c. 

3 She neither reels nor totters. Hallelujah. 

4 She is loaded wid-a bright angels, Hallelujah. 

5 Oh, how do you know dey are angels ? Hallelujah. 

6 I know dem by a de'r mournin'. Hallelujah. 

7 Oh, yonder comes my Jesus, Hallelujah. 

8 Oh, how do you know it is Jesus ? Hallelujah. 

9 I know him by-a his shinin'. Hallelujah. 




$ Tion't feel no^iuags tiretr. 

— =^ — -^ « — « — g — — I — g_A- 

I am 

Oh, ... . 

-.^ i ^S 

I am seek-in' for a ci - ty, 
Oh, .... bredren, trab - bel wid me, 

Hal - le - lu 
Hal - le - lu 


For a 


-- N- 

seek - in' 
bred - ren, 

cit - y, 

for a cit - y, Hal 

trab - bel wid me? Hal 



D U 



- lu 

- lu 







cit - y 
will you 

For a 

=H^ — ! ^^- 

-?— = 

to de heay - en, Hal 
a -long wid me? Hal 


cit - y 
will you 

^-y— 4^^— ^— -t— i 

in - to de beav - en, Hal - le 
go a - long wid me? Hal - le 

■»- -9- 

lu - jab. 
lu - jab. 

t^ ^ • V "7 ^ ^ ~w w ~\ i — -• 


Lord, I don't 




no - ways ti - red, Chil-dren, 

*: 5: .#. .^ 


$ tron't ittl no^toags tixzTi.— Concluded. 

:=:_N ,i N-T— -3 N r 

P 1^ J 

9 9 — ! 

I— ?-=*='==5--g=:=i-=:Sizl=l=z=J==:J_==iiz:=:±= 
hope to shout glo - ry when dis world is on fi - ah, 

^__^__:f^___-#-__-#- _■<►•_ _•*■__•*■ 

"^ -i-T" -J- ^ ^ * 

Chil-dren, Oh,.... glo - ry Hal - le - lu - jah 

; ^.r^ h ^^-. ^S ^^-r-- \ TIT 


2 We will trabbel on together, Hallelujah, (Us) 
Gwine to war agin de debbel, Hallelujah, " 
Gwine to pull down Satan's kingdom, Hallelujah, " 
Gwine to buHd up de walls o' Zion, Hallelujah. " 

Cho.— Lord, I don't feel no-ways tired, &c. 

3 Dere is a better day a comin', Hallelujah, (tm) 
"When I leave dis world o' sorrer, Hallelujah, " 
For to jine de holy number. Hallelujah, " 
Den we'll talk de trouble ober, Hallelujah. " 

Cho.— Lord, I don't feel no-ways tired, &c. 

4 Gwine to walk about in Zion, Hallelujah, (Us) 
Gwine to talk a wid de angels. Hallelujah, " 
Gwine to tell God 'bout my crosses, Hallelujah, " 
Gwine to reign wid Him foreber, Hallelujah. •' 

Cho.— Lord, I don't feel no-ways tired, &c. 




©itr gou ijear mg Jestig. 

■0 S ' « *-v-*— ' 

Ef you want to get to heb-ben, come a- long, come a - long, Ef you 
Ef you want to see de an-gels, come a- long, come a -long, Ef you 


b/— b - H — b— b — f — r~ g^ 


1 — 




— N- 

— — N- 






W • 




— « — 
— » — 



— J — 



— *— 

an - 

• ben, 

— « — 



-# — 5- 

a - long, 
a - long, 

■•- ■»- 

— « — 


a - long, 
a - long, 

Ef you 
Ef you 
••- • •#- 


1 — 


-^ — 








-&— i-: 

^ J 








'-' — 




U k^ 1 

want to go to heb - ben, come a - long, come a - long, 
want to see de an - gels, come a - long, come a - long. 



I — g — ;-•-; — * — i — *-Fg — ^-v\~^ — i^— F » r.-ii — m — ^ — iF\ 

* I I 
Hear my Je - sus when He caU you. Did you hear my Je - sus when He 
Hear my Je - sus when He call you. 



iBitr gou f)ear mg Jesus.— CoweZw^ed 

« — «-- — « — « — « — « — 

— w — ^ — P-S — «-- — « — «■ 

-^ — ^- 

call you, Did you hear my Je - sus when He call you, Did you 


-»■ -0- -o- -s>- 

hear my Je - sus when He call you, For to try on your long white robe. robe. 

2 Oh, de hebben gates are open, come along, come along, 

Ob, de hebben gates are open, come along, come along, [bis., 

Hear my Jesus when He call you; 
Oh, my mother's in de kingdom, come along, come along, 
Oh, my mother's in de kingdom, come along, come along, {bis.. 

Hear my Jesus when He call you, 
I am gwine to meet her yander, come along, come along, 
I am gwine to meet her yander, come, along, come along, {bis. , 

Hear my Jesus when He call you. 
Cho. — ^Did you hear my Jesus when he call you, 

Did you hear my Jesiis when he call you, [bis,. 
For to try on your long white robe. 

3 Ef you want to wear de slippers, come along, come along, 

Ef you want to wear de slippers, come along, come along, [bis. , 

Hear my Jesus when He call you; 
Ef you want to lib forever, come along, come along, 
Ef you want to lib forever, come along, come along, [bis. , 

Hear my Jesus when He call you ; 
Did you hear my Jesus calling, " come along, come along," 
Did you hear my Jesus calling, "come along, come along." [bis. 

Hear my Jesus when He call you. 
Cho. — Did you hear my Jesus when He call you, 

Did you hear my Jesus when He call you, [bis., 
Eor to try on your long white robe. 



Zioriy toeep a4oto. 



weep a - low, Zi - on, weep a - low. 

:^=ili— ^: 


Zi - on. 

» Q^ 1 

1 'I 




weep a - low, Den - a Hal - le - lu - jah 



a de Lamb. 

» g | *~r ~* ' ~* » — -r— I - p ! 1 [ 

^— y-t-F y— 1* ^-±_,._ti— t jt— J 

^^^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ — ^ 


-» * *- 

N Nt— N N 1 

—in— q — — ! s — K-q 

My Je - sus Christ, a - walk-in' down de heb-ben-ly road, Den a 




:=:^^:^J:d=^=:^^=q=T=4^=I|^=d— : 

-- N S- 

— I ^- 

•— — » — 

Hal - le - lu - jah to - a de Lamb, An' out o' bis mouth come a 

-— ^- — — 0-.V — 0—0 — __i — I — . 1 , 

9Y— — » -^-- ^ 

—N; — \ r 

h5 ^ — — ^ ! — I— _!_r . , — J 

- — ' — *— ^ i-m^^—^-0 — #— — ' 


two-edged sword, Den a Hal - le - lu - jah to - a de Lamb, 

- • - - - -0- •0- - ^ ■»• 


II ! 


%ion, toeep a:^l(i\x^,— Concluded. 

Say, what sort o' sword dat you talk - in' 'bout Den a 




— w w — r;-i r — i r— ]■ 



two-edged sword, Den a Hal - • le - lu 

to - a de Xamb. Oh. 



_ . _ ■9- -m- -^^ •9- 
-W—0-- 1 j 1 1 1 , 1 


2 Oh, look up yonder, Lord, a-what I see, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c., 
Dere's a long tall angel a comin' a'ter me, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c. , 
Wid a palms o' vicatry in-a my hand, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c., 
Wid a golden crown a-placed on-a my head, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c. Cho. — Oh, Zion, weep a-low. 

3 Zion been a-weepin' all o' de day, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c.. 
Say, come, poor sinners, come-a an' pray, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c.. 
Oh, Satan, like a dat huntin' dog. 

Den a Hallelujah, &c.. 
He hunt dem a Christian's home to God, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c. Cho.— Oh, Zion, weep a-low. 

4 Oh, Hebben so high, an' I so low, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c., 
I don' know shall I ebber get to Hebben or no, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c. , 
Gwine to tell my brudder befo' I go, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c., 
What a dolesome road-a I had to go, 

Den a Hallelujah, &c. Cho. — Oh, Zion, weep a-low. 



S>'^tct (JTaiiaan. 

My mother used to tell me how the colored People all expected to be free some day, and how 
one night, a great many of them met together in a Cabin, and tied little budgets on their backs, as 
though they expected to go off some where, and cried, and shook hands, and sang this hymn. 
(jsiO. ■ ALICE DAVIS. 




j~-r N— Sf 1>^- 

-iS»- •*■ 


■a — 3 — 5 — i— 5 w — *-r--^ ' — ^--\ 

— 9 9 9 w — j_j_t:_^_^_.*_3 


Oh, de land I am bound for, Sweet Canaan's happy land I am bound for, Sweet 

1 g— }-| 1 1 — f-i 1 1 — I 1 — — y— I — 4-i^ 1 — W — 

-« — 

-N+ — I- 

-^ ZL 
^ ^ 


-H 1- 

_ -g ^ ^ ^.- 

-#■-••■*•■#• „ _ 

Canaan's happy land I am bound for. Sweet Canaan's happy land, Pray, 

• — I 
• — 

tf — — — — — :f — *_i: 

9 W-\- 

'^ — 5-^—5-^ — "5 — 5-t- 

-y— f 

— — — P » 9 O » I 

y — b-^-F F F— '=-^— y— y— F-f^ ^-'^ 


J — J 1 ^_i — 1 — iti-j-* — — a — — J — 0^. 

give me your right hand 

I 1 



my brother, did you come for to help me, 

my sis - ter, did you come for to help me, 


v-^-^-?~^— 7= 



iji— q =t^— ^— s _^-^i-q — :f^:{^m=3=i_^ 

--f—J-'-zz* — — ?-I^-?rd — <»r^-^9 ^-t-* 

Oh, 'my brother, did you come for to help me, Oh, 
Oh, my sis - ter, did you come for to help me, Oh, 

■*•• - ■*- - . ^ -^ ■^* 

1^ t; U [; I • '^ I ' ' 

my brother, did you 
my sis - ter, did you 

H«- -ft. 

^^— V- ^-rr 




2). C. 

to help me; 


Pray, give me your right hand, your right hand. 

Pray, &c. 

Note. — There is so little variety to the verses of " Sweet Canaan " that we have not thought it 
(worth while to give them at greater length. They readily suggefat themselves, and seem to be 
limited only by the number of the singer's relations and friends, 


$n tiat great gittin^up Wornin'. 


This song is a remarkable paraphrase of a portion of the Book of Kevelations, and one of the finest 
specimens of negro " Spirituals." The student who brought it to us, and who sings the Solos, 
has furnished all that he can remember of the almost interminable succession of verses, which he 
has heard sung for half an hour at a time, by the slaves in their midnight meetings in the woods. 
He gives the following interesting account of its origin : 

" I have heard my imcle sing this hymn, and he told me how it was made. It was made by an 
old slave who knew nothing about lettej's or figures. He could not count the number of rails that 
he would split when he was tasked by his master to split 150 a day. But he tried to lead a Chris- 
tian life, and he dreamed of the General Judgment, and told his fellow-servants about it, and then 
made a tune to it, and sang it in his cabin meetings." J. B. TowE. 

_l- N K N 1^ >». K ?^ ^ S. V ,S ^S 

I'm a gwine to tell you bout de comin 

V •' a — 

l' ob de Sav-iour; Fare-you-well, 

■O- •»• -us- 

Fare-you-well. I'm a gwine to tell you 'bout de com - in ob de Sayiour; 






i «^« — <& — '-f — I — ■<&. — •- — — ^ -_- ^C-- — 

Fare-you-weU, Fare-you-weU. Dar'sa bet-ter day a comin'; Fare-you-well, 

d ^^^-1*^ ^-r- r-T 

I -^ — L« « i 1 

Fare-you-well; "When my Lord speaks to HisFa-der; Fare-you-well, 

Fare - you - weU. Says Fa - der, I'm tired o' bear - in', Fare-you-well, 

■0- '■»■ i9- 



-S2 — 



Jn irat great gitffeup §slox\\i\x\— Continued. 



Fare -you - well. Tired o' bear -in for poor sin-ners; Fare - you - well, 

, -^— 


j^ ^ — 

r — r- 



^ — * 



Fare - you - well. Oh, preachers, fold yourBi-bles; Fare - you- well; 

— H — t S—L ^ 

?- f — * 1 — F 



<5> — • — 

-*-- J- 

•*• -ST TT ■ -ST 

Fare-you-well; Prayer-makers pray no more; Fare-j'ou-well, Fare-you-well, 











— ! 1-« #- 

-a <&— 

For de last soul's con-vert - ed; Fare- you- well, Fare-you-well; 








For de last soul's con-vert - ed ; Fare-you-well, Fare-you-well. 



-• 0- 

-» — ^— •- 

r — r- 


]fn trat great gittin^up MiMwixC,— Concluded. 



In dat great get - tin - up morn-in; Fare - you - well, Fare-you - -well, 

I I 


' « ft (2. ^m c J- — 



In dat great git - tin - up morn - in' ; Fare-you-well, Fare-you-welL 

' ' ' I i J , I 1 I 



2. Dere's a better day a comin', 

3. When my Lord speaks to his Fader, 

4. Says, Fader, I'm tired o' bearin', 

5. Tired o' bearin' for poor sinners, 

6. Oh preachers, fold your Bibles, 

7. Prayer-makers, pray no more, 

8. For de last soul's converted. (6is)C/io. 

9. De Lord spoke to Gabriel. 

10. Say, go look behind de altar, 

11. Take down de silver trumpet, 

12. Go down to de sea-side, 

13. Place one foot on de dry land, 

14. Place de oder on de sea, 

15. Kaise your hand to heaven, 

16. Declare by your Maker, 

17. Dat time shall be no longer. (6zs) Oho. 

18. Blow your trumpet, Gabriel. 

19. Lord, how loud shall I blow it ? 

20. Blow it right calm and easy, 

21. Do not alarm my people, 

22. Tell dem to come to judgment, {his) 


23. Den you see de coffins bustin', 

24. Den you see de Christian risin', 

25. Den yoii see de righteous marchin', 

26. Dey are marchin' home to heaven. 

27. Den look iipon Mount Zion, 

28. You see my Jesus comin' 

29. Wid all his holy angels. 

30. Where you runnin', sinner? 

31. Judgment day is comin'. {his) Cho. 

32. Gabriel, blow your trumpet, 

33. Lord, how loud shall I blow it ? 

34. Loud as seven peals of thunder, 
3o. Wake de sleepin' nations. 

36. Den you see poor sinners risin'. 

37. See de dry bones a creepin', Cho. 

38. Den you see de world on fire, 

39. You see de moon a bleedin', 

40. See de stars a fallin', 

41. See de elements meltin', 

42. See de forked lightnin', 

43. Hear de rumblin' thunder. 

44. Earth shall reel and totter, 

45. Hell shall be uncapped, 

46. De dragon shall be loosened. 

47. Fare-you-well, poor sinner. Cho. 

48. Den you look up in de heaven, 

49. See your mother in heaven, 

50. While you're doomed to destruction. 

51. When de partin' word is given, 

52. De Christian shouts to your ruin. 

53. No mercy'll ever reach you, Cho. 

54. Den yoti'U cry out for cold water, 

55. While de Christian's shoutin' in glory, 

56. Sayin' amen to your damnation, 

57. Den you hear de sinner sayin', 

58. Down I'm rollin', down I'm roUin', 

59. Den de righteous housed in heaven, 

60. Live wid God forever, (iis.) Cho. 



SHallt sou m tie Higljt. 


you in de light, "Walk you in de light, 


■»- •«■ • ^ 


I U > ^ i 

-«_i — ^ 5 ft d 

;^^^IE^ ZEE^=^ ^ ^ =E-^ 

Walk you in de light, Walk-in' in de light o' God, 

4— +- . +— ^■•■ 

-0 »— i 0- 

=— V w w w m 1 — » 


■#■ ^ 


1st. V 


b N ^^- 



Oh, chil - dren. God. 

Oh, chil-dren, do you think it's true, 
Yes, He died for me an' He died for you, 




Walkin' in de light o' God, Dat Je - sus Christ did die for you, 
For de Ho - ly Bi - ble does say so, 

■■^ "^ ^r- ^r- T — -ir- ^ 


S^aalt gou in tre lLi^i)t— Concluded. 

2a. y.J).C.dalClio. 

S L .JS. 


?l{2 ^ ^ ^ g 5 y * f -^ ^^ 

2 I think I heard some children say, 

Walkin' in de light o' God, 
Dat dey neber heard de'r parents pray, 

Walkin' in de light o' God. 
Oh, parents, dat is not de way, 

WaUdn' in de Hght o' God, 
But teach your children to watch an' pray, 

Walkin' in de light o' God. 
Cho. — Oh, parents, walk you in de light. 

Walk you in de light, walk you in de light, 

Walkin' in de light o' God. 

3 I love to shout, I love to sing, 

Walkin' in de light o' God, 
I love to praise my Heavenly King, 

Walkin' in de Ught o' God. 
Oh, sisters, can't you help me sing, 

Walkin' in de light o' God, 
For Moses' sister did help him, 

Walkin' in de light o' God. 
Cho.— Oh, sisters, walk you in de light, &c. 

4 Oh, de heavenly Ian' so bright an' fair, 

Walkin' in de light o' God, 
A very few dat enter dere, 

Walkin' in de light o' God. 
For good Elijah did declare, 

Walkin' in de light o' God, 
Dat nothin' but de righteous shall go dere, 

Walkin' in de light o' God. 
Cho.— Oh, Christians, walk you in de light, «fee. 


S»koect turtle 31cibc, or Jerusalem Wornin'. 

pp 1st, ith and 8tk verses only. 


1 N- 


-«-j — K — «-■ J — 

■m — m- 

1 __|V_J__H^^__^ 

^ — P-« i 1 1 m—4 

1 Sweet tur - tie dove, she sing - a so sweet, Mud-dy de wa- ter, 

=^^^— p-T* — m •-• — »'- — »-- — • — — p 1 tsi — — w » » » 1 — 

-f, — r- 


r— »— r 

morn - in 



hear Ga - bel's trum - pet sound. 





--N N N \- 


I F F F F — I — f 

Je - ru - sa - lem morn - in', Je - rn - sa - lem morn - in' by de 

^ — F-« — « — ^ — ^ — I — -J — ig'-h ^ 
I — — I 1 ^ *i i^i \~s> — A 

light, Don't you hear Ga - bel's trum-pet in dat morn - in'? 




Ji2- /Ts 


S^^ct turtle ^t^\st,—Coneluded. 

2 Old sis - ter Win - nj, 


SOLO. , 


— 1 — 



1 — ^- 

1 — 



H h" 


— « — 


— * — 

— 6' — 


-.0 — 



took her seat, An' she want all 

-y— >- 


de mem - bers to fol - ler her, An' we had a lit - tie meet-in' 

Dal, Cho. 


morn - in', A - for to hear Ga - bel's trum-pet sound. 

2 Ole sister Hannah, she took her seat, 
An' she want all de member to foller her; 

An' we had a little meetin' in de mornin', 

A-for to hear Gabel's trumpet sound. 
Cho. — Jerusalem mornin', &c. 

3 Sweet turtle dove, she sing-a so sweet, 
Muddy de water, so deep. 

An' we had a little meetin' -ki de mornin', 

A-for to hear Gabel's trumpet sound. 
Cho. — Jerusalem mornin', &c. 

) 5 Ole brudder Philip, he took his seat, 

An' he want all de member to foller him, 
An' we had a little meetin' in de mornin, ' 
A-for to hear Gabel's trumpet sound. 

Cho. — Jerusalem mornin', &c. 

,) 6 Ole sister Hagar, she took her seat. 

An' she want all de member to foller her, 
An' we had a little meetin' in de mornin', 
A-for to hear Gabel's trumpet sound, 

Cho. — Jerusalem mornin', &c. 

(Solo.) 7 Ole brudder Moses took his seat. 

An' he want all de member to foller him, 
An' we had a little meetin' in de mornin', 
A-for to hear Gabel's trumpet sound. 
Cho. — Jerusalem mornin', &c. 

8 Sweet turtle dove, she sing-a so sweet. 
Muddy de water, so deep. 
An' we had a little meetin' in de mornin'. 
A-for to hear Gabel's trumpet sound. 
Cho. — Jerusalem mornin', &c. 





Citrcon's iSauti; or, lie tnillfe^iMijite f^orsc^. 

The explanation wliicli bas been given us of the origin of this curious hymn is, we tbink, in- 
valuable as au example of tbe manner in which external facts grew to have a strange symbolical 
meaning in the imaginative mind of the negro race. 

In a little town in one of the Southern States, a Scriptural panorama was exhibited, in which 
Gideon's Baud held a prominent place, the leader being conspicuously mounted upon a white 
horse. The black people of the neighborhood crowded to see it, aud suddenly, and to themselves 
inexplicably, this swinging " Milk-White Horses '' sprang up among them, establishing itself soon 
as a standard church aud chimney-corner hymn. 

S^-«-T- A-*' — ^ N b-H-T-=l — - 


9 » V— #— ^-- 

Oh, de band ob Gid - e - on, band ob Gid - e - on, band ob Gid - e - on, 
Oh, de milk-white hor - ses, milk-white hor - ses, milk-white hor - ses, 

^ — ft — ,»-^_*_^ ff — ff ^.i_»_*_ 

) *--!—£—« 1 a — I — • »-. — #-T— « — «— ^ — » 

« «-T— « •— 

o - ber in Jor - dan, Band ob Gid - e - on, band ob Gid - c - on, 
o - ber in Jor - dan, MUk white hor - ses, milk-white hor - ses, 

— -£&i^rt^ — 

— « 5— • l-f *-+-• W^ 1— i\-~0 ~- \—lS> O — — \ — * 1& * — 


I long to see dat day. 1. I 

hail to my sis - ter, my 

-\ tff- 



5* 5 -T — •— S-f — S- »-- — »— ^ — •-+ i^— 1 



sis - ter she bow low. Say, don't you want to" go to heb - ben, 


>_ CHO. 

J^ f J J^ -K ■ -> ^ N _> _v -iK 

«—a--'h«—. — p — H— ^ +-2— H— Ff-*-T— *-j-^-<s'- *— -H— H N ^H— 

4>—f T-r^" — — *~ S'-i— r^-^ — \-^ — »r^ — i^ ^=" — c-i—0 — *— 

Oh, de twelve white hor - ses, 
Oh, .... hitch'em to the cha - ri - ot. 

How I long to see dat 



— A -^ 



Citicon'g IS^xCls,— Concluded. 

5 — ^—0^-,0 — ^--_^— *— i-tf — * — 0^0--.—0 — fl_i_^.__j_* — ^ — ^_j 

^ — «,r^=^ ■^-*^^^— »^^— »-_^*— » » ,* 9- 

twelve white hor - ses, twelve white hor - ses o - ber iti Jor-dan, 
hitch'em to de cha - ri - ot, hitch'em to de cha - ri - ot o - ber in Jor - dan, 

-«— S— i— «— «-f--«-«-l-«-«— «— «— «-T-«-«::J-*— _<^ , _, _ 

Twelve white hor - ses, twelve white hor - ses, Howl long to see dat day. 
Hitch'em to the chariot, hitch'em to the chariot, How I long, &c. 

2 Duo. — I hail to my brudder, my brudder he bow low, 

Say, don't you want to go to hebben ? — 
How I long to see dat day ! 
Cho. — Oh, ride np in de chariot, ride np in de chariot, 
Kide up in de chariot ober in Jordan ; 

Ride up in de chariot, ride up in de chariot — , 
How I long to see dat day ! 

It's a golden chariot, a golden chariot. 
Golden chariot ober in Jordan ; 

Golden chariot, a golden chariot- 
How I long to see dat day ! 

3 Duo. — I hail to de mourner, de mourner he bow low. 

Say, don't you want to go to hebben ?— 

How I long to see dat day ! 
Cho. — Oh, de milk an' honey, milk an' honej"-, 

Milk an' honey ober in Jordan ; 
Milk an' honey, milk an' honey — 

How I long to see dat day ! 
Oh, de healin' water, de healin' water, 

Healin' water ober iji Jordan ; 
Healin' water, de healin' water — 

How I lovg to see dat day ! 



Mt Wi\\\ttx% soon l)c (©ber. 

win - ter, win - ter, 
Oil de win - ter, de 

1- ^ 

win - ter, win - ter, 
win - ter, de 

winter'll soon be 


-ft — 

-i — I — r 


o - ber, chil - dren, de win - ter, 
fg. » a a ^ _:C_ 

win - ter. 

de win - ter, 

Win - ter. 



-li. *- 

— 1-^ 1 

win - tcr'll soon be 

win - ter, 
ber, chil - dren, de win - ter, do 

-A s — k^ -jn — {-<& — I 

win - ter. 

win - ter, 

de wln-ter'U soon be o - ber, children, Yes, my Lord: 
^ 75- . y f- f- Y f, -^ -^ -^ 


-I F— 

-U 1 





V— I l-t- 

Oh look up yon-der what I see. Bright angels com-in' ar - ter me. 

I N 
■^'-«- r^ ^ ^-^-^^ i2_Z?l -^ -^ ■^- ■^' ^^ I I 

■ '" :EzEt=z^ ' 



— i- 1 1 1-1 1 r*^ ■ — I ^~m 

2 I turn my eyes towards de sky, 3 Oh Jordan's ribber is deep an' wide, 

An' ask de Lord for wings to fly; But Jesus stan' on de hebbenly side; 

If you get dere before I do. An' when we get on Canaan's shore, 

Look out for me I'm comin' too. Oho. We'll shout, an' sing forebber more. Cho. 




4^-N — ^- 

-#• -!S^ * -«■ 



Oh Lord, Oh my Lord! Oh my good Lord! Keep me from sink-in' 



A ^s__4 


my good Lord, Keep me from sink-in' 

A -ft- .i2- • 

— e •---1-1©'-- — « — FS-i-» * 1 1 

-p— r-^^-^-k-^t— ^— t^— r— * 

Oh my Lord. Oh 

^ ^ — ^ • ^ .12. .(2. 

Oh Lord, 






tell you what I mean to do, Keep me from sink - in' down, 
bless de Lord I'm gwine to die. Keep me from sink - in' down, 


I mean to go to heb - ben too, Keep me from sink - in' down. 
I'm gwine to judgment by an' by. Keep me from sink - in' down. 

^ ^ 1 1 — &■ r-.-. 

»-'—» — i — j — y-'S^ — H-| 





_| 1 0.- ^_J._ _ . fv 

Oh, sing all de way, 

sing all 

r 1/ 

de way, Sing all de way 

-!«- JK- 4- 4- 

1 k ~ — #-+ -I y 1 +-I 1 1 \- 

[- 1? r t' - r — 

I^V N l!N_|:..-,_i_, a — ^ — m 

sing - m 

We're marchin' up to 
An' Je - BUS is 
pZI3 Dem-a Christ - tians 
^Zin Dey're i - dlin' 

on - a 

D. C. 

dat . . 

hap - py time ; 
mid - die line; 

too much time; , 

bat - tie line; I: | 

2 Now all things well, an' I don't dread hell; — 

Hear de angels sin gin', 
I am goin' up to Hebben, where my Jesus dwell ;- 

Hear de angels singin'. 
For de angels are callin' me away, — 

Hear de angels singin', 
An' I must go, I cannot stay, — 

Hear de angels singin'. Cho. — Oh, sing, 

3 Now take your Bible, an' read it through, — 

Hear de angels singin'. 
An' ebery word you'll find is true; — 

Hear de angels singin'. 
For in dat Bible you will see, — 

Hear de angels singin', 
Dat Jesus died for you an' me, — 

Hear de angels singin'. Cho. — Oh, sing, 

4 Say, if my memory sarves me right, — 

Hear de angels singin'. 
We're sure to hab a little shout to-night, — 

Hear de angels singin'. 
For I love to shout, I love to sing, — 

Hear de angels singin', 
I love to praise my Hebbenly King, — 

Hear de angels singin'. Cho.— Oh, sing. 




$'bc tun a^list'ning all He Nisljt long. 

--{s — ^- 



-# 9-9- 

« — «—■ ; — m- 

I've been a list'ning all de night long, Been a list'ning all de 


,5'-k'^-A : ! ! 4--! I 1 _ 1 J- 1_ 

i- — ^— I H — y— •— I ' — ' — ' b— •— I \- 


- — I — +-» — »- 

-»— »-4~i 1 — 


day, I've been a list'ning all de night long. To hear some sinner pray, 

y, I've been a list'ning all de 

■— -K- 


; — N — N- 

Some said that John, de Bap - tist, Was noth - in' but a Jew, 




D. C. 


-9 — ^ — i^- l — S—-i- 

But the Bi - ble doth in - form tis Dat he was a preacher too. 





Go, read the fifth of Matthew, 
An' a read de chapter thro', 

It is de guide to Christians, 
An' a tells dem what to do. 
Cho. — I've been a list'ning, &q. 


Dere was a search in heaven, 
An' a all de earth around, 

John stood in sorrow hoping 
Dat a Saviour might be found. 
Cho. — I've been a list'ning, &c. 



This is often used in Hampton as n MarcUiug Dong, and is quite effcctivo wlieu tbe two hundred students are filing out 
of the assembly room to its spirited movement. We recommend it for similar use to Schools and Kindergartens. 


±zr^—\ ^ ^-v= =|- g — a/ g ^ * — *-F » * 


Pure cit 

Bab - y - Ion's fall - in', to rise no more, 



_» SI r:_ 

■*- -0- 

r L \-l 

Pure cit 


-# — 




-i — 

Bab -y -Ion's fall - in', to rise no more. 

^ ^ ^ ^a. 


—K S V- 

: J^-H — ^=n* — ^ — rs — i — * — t^ "^ — ^— ^^ — s — *' — *^ 
-*■•*•-<»■ -«^ -*• -*- 

Oh, Bab - y-lon's fall-in', fall - in', fall-in', Bab-y - Ion's fall-in' to 

1 r* 


'^ 1 J 

-u — u—\- 

-\J b- 


I 1 — 

» — »— 




-* — -t 

rise no more, Ob, Bab -y -Ion's fall - in', fall - in', fall - in'. 



\? — 



a 0~ 





— * «— 


Bab -y -Ion's fall - in' to rise no more. Oh, Je - sns tell you 

If you get dere be - 


•» 9 — » »-,* — y -R-Fy — ; S — Pi 



13ai)j)(on'g Jfalliu*. — Concluded. 

H^ \~. 


--------- [> 

once be - fore, Bab -y -Ion's fall - in' to rise no more; To 
fore I do, Bab -y -Ion's fall - in' to rise no more; Tell 

A—0 » 1 

-» — 

-» , 

DalSeg, Clio. 

! 1 1 V Nr K~| jT w TnT 

—— r-j^, 'i^i~*i — * — g — g~rg — % — ^- •1-| 

go in peace an' sin no more; Babylon's fall in' to rise no more, 
all my friends I'm comin' too; Babylon, &c. 

-» — » — »- 

V — y — ^- 



©e alt Ett a=m{!iii€tin' dicing. 





— N- 



Jes' wait a lit - tie while, I'm gwine to tell ye 'bout de 
De Lord told No - ah lor to build him an 

— • — a — ^ — 

ole ark, 
[ Omit. ] 


ole ark, De ole ark 

■ mov - er - in'. 

a - mov - er - in' a - lonff, 

-- N — ^- 

^ — * — :$. — :§. » « 'i 4-"" 

Oh de ole ark a - mov - er - in', a-mov - er - in', a - mov-er - in', De 

i^ jm M A ik jst a a 




Mt ole 'B,xt a^moberin' ^Xon^.— Concluded. 

Omit in the last verse. 

For the last verse only. 

^ . 





-JL 9~ 


-^ ^r- 



a - mov - er 

111 , 

- mov 

-ik » = » 1 fi ^ — I — ff i- 

— tt-' h 1 1 ^ — r ^- 





:f— : 


2 Den Noali an' his sons went to Avork ujoon de dry Ian', 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c., 
Dey built dat ark jes' accordin' to de comman', 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c., 
Noah an' his sons went to work upon de timber, 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c., 
De proud began to laugh, an' de silly point de'r finger, 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c. 
Cho. — De ole ark a-moverin', &c. 

3 When de ark was finished jes' accordin' to de plan, 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c., 
Massa Noah took in bis family, both animal an' man, 

De ole ark a-moverin, &c., 
"When de rain began to fall an' de ark began to rise, 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c., 
De wicked hung around' wid der groans an', de'r cries, 

De ole ark a-moverin,' &c. 
Cho. — Oh de ole ark a-moverin, &c. 

4 Forty days an' forty nights, de rain it kep' a fallin', 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c. 
De wicked dumb de trees, an' for helj} dey kej)' a callin', 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c. , 
Dat awful rain, she stopped at last, de waters dey subsided, 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c., 
An' dat ole ark wid all on board on Ararat she rided, 

De ole ark a-moverin', &c. , 
Cho. — Oh, de ole ark a-moverin, &c. 


©ust an' ^slje.^. 

'"^ S V 


N, — I — I i — R — V— , : — I ■■ r -w-T— ;: \-^ 

1. Dust, dust an' ash - es fly ov-er on my grave, Dust, dust an' ash-es fly 

f f ' f.y ¥ f f w ^ F t V -^ V '^ V ^ 

It '^, \ \ ' I ) 1 1 I ] 1 1 1 1 

^ p p p ^ 



i N N S 
, . '■ 1 1^ |^■~l — y ' i-^i — ^- 1 rr 1^— i — «»n— « 

5 — ^ — U-^ — I— ^ — ^ ___^:^_L — «, — « — L _, — ^ — g — ^_L_j_ q 

o- ver on my grave, Dust, dust an' ash - es fly 

ver on my grave. 

-N-i — «»» — ^-1 1 

>-hN J- 

g-a^--F^-:-j-Ff-v- ^ -FI-g-a-F*| - l-j— g-Fy-v-«— Ej^-T-^-F^-g-^-FgfT-l 

1 -* -«• [ -0- -0-' 

An' de Lord shall bear my spir-it home, An' de Lord shall bear my spmfc home. 

^-5 — <A — I— — i — pfl--;--i pi «-r* — r* — 9-\-F-—^ — .p^-.i-, — .-\ ^-•- 

f ' \^ \ \ p ¥ ¥ Y \^ F ' --^ Y V f- 

-T-^N=*= S=^- F I=^=^F ^=b 


2. Dey cru - ci - fled my Sav - lour. An' nailed Him to de cross, Dey 

3. Oh, Jo-seph begged his bo - dy, An' laid it in de tomb. Oh, 

4. De an - gel came from heav-en. An' roll de stone a- way, De 

5. De cold grave could not hold Him, Nor death's cold i - ron band, De 





— I — ' fl— ^ — ^ & — I — — — — ^H — — R — s~\~m M w s 

-g — * — g — «-y% — ^-i-^-Fg — ^ — ^— l-Fi^-vi-— FS — ' — 9 — ^— 


cru - ci - fied my Saviour, An' nailed Him to de cross, Dey cru-ci - fled my 
Jo-seph begged His body, An' laid it in de tomb. Oh Joseph begged His 
an - gel came from heaven. An' roll de stone u-way, De an - gel came from 
cold grave could not hold Him, Nor death's cold iron band,De cold grave could not 

. — , — e — 0-f 

y. f. f, ^ t^ P' 

y V i 



Mn%X an' EsijesJ. — Continued. 

H 1-- M — 1-1- — f-J — ^ — \-».—^~. 

^ — 5— t-*i— h-- ^ « — t- ti-9-\r* — " - F-! 

Sav-iour, '•An" nailed Him to de cross, An' de Lord 

bo - dy, An' laid it in de tomb, An' de Lord 

heb-ben, An' roll de stone a - way. An' de Lord 

hold Him, Nor death's cold i - ron band, An' de Lord 

shall bear 
shall bear, 
shall bear, 
shall bear. 


yr=rr r-* — I — ^ • 1 ' ri r 1 


spi - rit home, An' de Lord shall bear 


spi - rit home. 

2 — r»-:-T-, 

» — — P| 1 P-» — - — » — Fiff .* — F*"*"I"I 

u u I ^ ^— ^-p — i i — r-- 

-1 — 

He rose. 


He rose, 

He rose, 


He roso 

-» — 



ord shall bear m^ 

de dead, an' de Lord shall bear mv spi - rit home; 





r r I . I 

a « — r-*-f * 

Btigt an' 2.^\)Z^.— Continued. 

^1 I 

An' de Lord shall bear my spir-it home. 6. Oh Ma - ry came a- run-nin', 

4t .^ i ^^ I iL W. 1 r^, 

— ^-i 1 — r- ^ g-r— I- 1 * — T#-'^ — ■ 


_=f:i-p_^ — IT ^ — q2zr_^ — -=1— Pa=: 

'-a g 1—0 ■ — ff — 

her Sav - iour for to see, Oh Ma - ry came a - run - nin', Her 


9 f 


S \-^ 1 Kr— I ' 1 1- 

" g ^ g J ra*' ♦ "c 



-J ^__ ^:5 — ^ — L_j_Lai — ^ 1 — Ha 

-S— »— I— -*; — S— h-*—E-'— '—•—«- 
g r a r~g \~ w — » — ^ — g - 

Saviour for to see, Oh Mary came a - run- nin. Her Saviour for to see, 
-» — #- 

— « — « — \-w-' 



^— ^ 

-I— » — h» — » — » — » — V 


;» P ^ # ^ r- 


,S N 

V -^ V 

-!■; ^l — >■ — I— I 1 — y^ 1—1 — ' 1 -^1 — \ ^1 — ""iBi — ^-1 , 

^-^-»-\--g — 1-«— M — \ s. — «| ^_! — |-.C#|_i._g,_L^Z:|_aLL_ — I 

g'~'~g~Ltf~*~^""liai~:hg — 9—r ^-^-» -\-w-i-r\-0-*-~\-^~:£z'\ 

\ -#• -*■ I -^ .^• 

An' de Lord shall bear my spir-it home, An' de Lord shall bear my spirit home. 

. -f- ^ 

.-f -^ 

C\ \ # — 0—1-0-^^0 — 1-0-^-0-1-0 «— W# — 1-0 — »_U| 1 0-s— 0-1-0 fi-l-0- ' -J 

*— b^ — * — 4 — S— E^ — « — ^ — *— F-* — * — g^^^— P-J-— -=«- 
-«- -*• -*- -#• fj .5- • 

7. De an -gel say He is not here, He's gone to Gal-i - lee, De 

? 1 — « * — 6 



angel say He is not here, He's gone to Gal-i -lee, De an -gel say He 



TBxi^t an' ^^i)t^.— Continued. 

V ^s V ^^pH^^ ^^!^— N K-r-r*l- r— ^ ^^r" ~ ^^r-^ N— i 

, — ip ^ lf5 J— -# » -J P--_Ph_I ^ — h-^-i — « ^-. '-^-\ 

znm 1 — *i — *~ r^ — * — *^*— hg-g-h-** — i^— |— y— . — g— h <— •— ; — I 

* * * S5*"& * ^ 

is not here, He's gone to Gal - i - lee. An' de Lord shall bear my 





r J 

de Lord shall bear my spir - it home. 

He is not here. He's gone to Gal - 



De an - gel say He is not here, He's gone to G^l - i - lee, 



,s_ .__^ 



De an - gel say He ii 

=— r5=zz^=z:tzzz=?z=ri 

-er • — rl- 

not here, He's gone to Gal 

■#• -I— i -#- -•- 
-1 1 |-F » 

-y— : 



__■: s s — r ^ — -I 


^^, — ! N-p— 


^g:z:zzgr"r~ *~'~"* — b" ^ ' ^ Iz |» * g C"»; — r" ^ g — c -^^-y— *— 

An' de Lord shall bear my spir - it home. An' de Lord shall 

•'^ -9- « J 
»-i — 9 — — • 1 9 Y-9 9 — \— 9- ' « 


-Ez*-x=:fzzEzEzzz:?=Ezfz=^zztzb=ztzt==F=:Ez»-*— »-H 


Mu^t an' ^sljes. — Concluded. 

CM onus. 



He rose, 

He rose, 

a — I — ff-'i — I 1 * *- 

-p — 1 

He rose, 


He rose, 


1^ ^ i> p P I 

He rose from de dead. He rose. 

-I — f- 

He rose, 

He rose. 

He rose, 

N N S 


rose from de dead, 

He lose, 

He rose. 


Ho rose, 

I .N 




S ttl-i ? * i-e-* I— f i t~' m t-i ? t-«-/!> -UvZI 

!; I ^ j [^ L I I 

ear my 

He rose from de dead. An' de Lord shall bear my spir - it 

f°^, 1 IN ,-' 

Ci \ m — -i — i — ft 

:b-t^ ^^- 

: «> « S • £ 

._ ^ fi »^ *_ 

_ , ^_ 

shall bear 


-e-T 1 




A Great Camp-meetin' in de Promised 

Land 222 

Babylon's Fallin' • 253 

Bright Sparkles in de Churchyard 200 

De Church ob God i99 

Deole Ark a-moverin' 254 

De ole Sheep done know de Road 198 

De Winter'll soon be ober 244 

Did you hear my Jesus ? 230 

Don't ye view dat Ship a-come a-sailiii' ?. . 226 

Dust an' Ashes 248 

Ef ye want to see Jesus 184 

Gideon's Band, or de milk-white Horses. . . 242 

Good News, de Chariot's comin' 224 

Gwine Up 216 

Hail ! Hail ! Hail ! 177 

Hard Trials , • 213 

Hear de Angels singin' 246 

Hear de Lambs a-cryin' 210 

I don't feel noways tired 228 

I hope my Mother will be there 218 

In dat great gettin'-up Mornin' 235 

I've been a-list'nin' all de Night long 247 

John Saw 196 

Judgment-Day is a-roUin' around 206 

Keep me from sinkin' down 245 

King Emanuel 197 


Love an' serve de Lord 178 

My Bretheren, don't get weary 180 

My Lord delibered Daniel 193 

My Lord, what a Mornin' 176 

Most done trabelin' 215 

Nobody knows de Trouble I've seen 181 

Oh ! de Hebben is shinin' 219 

Oh ! den my little Soul's gwine to shine. . . 173 

Oh ! give way, Jordan 195 

Oh! Sinner, you'd better get ready 208 

Oh ! wasn't dat a wide Riber ? 194 

Oh! yes 1S6 

Peter, go ring dem Bells 174 

Religion is a Fortune 189 

Rise an' shine 212 

Run, Mary, run 18S 

Some o' dese Mornin's 190 

Sweet Canaan 234 

Sweet Turtle Dove, or Jerusalem Mornin' . 240 
Swing low, sweet Chariot 179 

The Danville Chariot 183 

View de Land 182 

Walk you in de Light 238 

Who'll jine de Union ? 220 

Zion, weep a-low 232 


.V '^ c. 



aV u^- 

4 -7- , -. ^/^J 




, X •* ^^ 

^ ^ ^ ^^^ ^ 



.^%. 1 

s .^ 

Q^ ^ 

0' /' . 

^" A.- ' \'''^''^^ V .... V^ * .= ^^ ° ^''/' , . „ % ' ^^'^ V 

^'^^^., 1 


f^'< ° « 

MAST . 66