About ten o'clock the people began to collect by land, and also by
water,--in steamers sent by General Saxton for the purpose; and from that
time all the avenues of approach were thronged. The multitude were
chiefly colored women, with gay handkerchiefs on their heads, and a
sprinkling of men, with that peculiarly respectable look which these
people always have on Sundays and holidays. There were many white
visitors also,--ladies on horseback and in carriages, superintendents and
teachers, officers, and cavalry-men. Our companies were marched to the
neighborhood of the platform, and allowed to sit or stand, as at the
Sunday services; the platform was occupied by ladies and dignitaries,
and by the band of the Eighth Maine, which kindly volunteered for the
occasion; the colored people filled up all the vacant openings in the
beautiful grove around, and there was a cordon of mounted visitors
beyond. Above, the great live-oak branches and their trailing moss;
beyond the people, a glimpse of the blue river.

The services began at half past eleven o'clock, with prayer by our
chaplain, Mr. Fowler, who is always, on such occasions, simple,
reverential, and impressive. Then the President's Proclamation was
read by Dr. W. H. Brisbane, a thing infinitely appropriate, a South
Carolinian addressing South Carolinians; for he was reared among these
very islands, and here long since emancipated his own slaves. Then the
colors were presented to us by the Rev. Mr. French, a chaplain who
brought them from the donors in New York. All this was according to
the programme. Then followed an incident so simple, so touching, so
utterly unexpected and startling, that I can scarcely believe it on
recalling, though it gave the keynote to the whole day. The very
moment the speaker had ceased, and just as I took and waved the flag,
which now for the first time meant anything to these poor people,
there suddenly arose, close beside the platform, a strong male voice