The Contraband's Gratitude.
A SOLDIER writes us: "After the little city of F. fell into our hands, steps were immediately taken to provide shelter and rations for the crowds of negroes, (many of whom were from the swamps of Florida) hastening in to seek an asylum from oppression. Among their first requirements was a place for Divine worship. Having received my ideas of their peculiar style of proceeding from comic sermons of the "Snow-ball" order, I entered the little hall, expecting only amusement. "The leader of the meeting was a short, thick-set negro, having a free-and-easy, backwoods-preacher air, who commenced the services by reading a hymn.139After the singing he made a short address, the burden of which was gratitude to God for their deliverance from bondage, and, as is usual among them, comparing their situation with that of the children of Israel in Egypt. His remarks were distinct, brief, and impressive. The next speaker was a tall, athletic man, black as jet, but in cast of features differing greatly from the common negro. An indomitable fearlessness and great power of endurance marked him as one whose spirit could never be crushed. “Full of earnestness, his voice tremulous with emotion, he announced that that day he had escaped from a terrible bondage. ‘Dis, my friends, is de blessed day my ole gran’fader prayed for. My fader prayed for it, an’ de great God knows I’se prayed for’t; I’se knew it was a comin’; suthin in my heart tole me de blessed Jesus would deliver us out ob de hands of our cruel taskmasters even as he did de chillen of Israel out ob Egypt. An’ blessed be God, it is done, an’ to-day we can sing de songs of freedom! “My gran’fader was torn to pieces by de blood-houn’s in de swamps ob Florida, my fader was kept in irons, an’ lashed wid whips, an’ my friends, I’se been tryin’ to ’scape from bondage all my life, as de marks ob irons an’ whips will show! “Tank de Lord, my brederen, de blessed, long-looked-for freedom-day has come! Let us pray for de dear white people who has come all de long way an’ is fightin’ to make us free! “When I look at dat ole flag’ (pointing to the stars and stripes, floating in the harbor), ‘dat brought my gran’fader from Africa, an’ has kept my brederen in chains an’ darkness so long, an’ tink dat now it has come to set us free I’se could now bow down to it as did de chilien of Israel to de serpent in de wilderness!” “Then kneeling, he poured out his soul in humble, grateful prayer. Words fail to do justice to the earnestness and simplicity of his petition. It was a song of praise and gratitude from an over-burdened, long-imprisoned spirit, brief, and full of pathos; and never since have I heard eloquence like that. “The allusion to the flag sent the blood tingling through my veins, and gave new lustre to the dearly loved stars and stripes. “I entered the assembly an anti-abolitionist. I left it firmly resolved to fight for the liberty of the downtrodden and oppressed.”—Watchman and Reflector.