fugitives and the papers he read told him other things. They said
that the spirit of freedom was working in the United States, and
already men were speaking out boldly in behalf of the manumission of
the slaves; already there was a growing army behind that noble
vanguard, Sumner, Phillips, Douglass, Garrison. He heard the names of
Lucretia Mott and Harriet Beecher Stowe, and his heart swelled, for on
the dim horizon he saw the first faint streaks of dawn.

So the years passed. Then from the surcharged clouds a flash of
lightning broke, and there was the thunder of cannon and the rain of
lead over the land. From his home in the North he watched the storm as
it raged and wavered, now threatening the North with its awful power,
now hanging dire and dreadful over the South. Then suddenly from out
the fray came a voice like the trumpet tone of God to him: "Thou and
thy brothers are free!" Free, free, with the freedom not cherished by
the few alone, but for all that had been bound. Free, with the freedom
not torn from the secret night, but open to the light of heaven.

When the first call for colored soldiers came, Joshua Leckler hastened
down to Boston, and enrolled himself among those who were willing to
fight to maintain their freedom. On account of his ability to read
and write and his general intelligence, he was soon made an orderly
sergeant. His regiment had already taken part in an engagement before
the public roster of this band of Uncle Sam's niggers, as they were
called, fell into Mr. Leckler's hands. He ran his eye down the column
of names. It stopped at that of Joshua Leckler, Sergeant, Company F.
He handed the paper to Mrs. Leckler with his finger on the place:

"Mrs. Leckler," he said, "this is nothing less than a judgment on me
for teaching a nigger to read and write. I disobeyed the law of my