" The moonlight on the
water, the perfect stillness around, the wildness and solitude of the
ruins, all seemed to give new pathos to that ever dear and beautiful old
song. It came very near to all of us,--strangers in that strange
Southern land. After a while we retired to one of the tents,--for the
night-air, as usual, grew dangerously damp,--and, sitting around the
bright wood-fire, enjoyed the brilliant and entertaining conversation.
Very unwilling were we to go home; for, besides the attractive society,
we knew that the soldiers were to have grand shouts and a general
jubilee that night. But the Flora was coming, and we were obliged to say
a reluctant farewell to Camp Saxton and the hospitable dwellers therein,
and hasten to the landing. We promenaded the deck of the steamer, sang
patriotic songs, and agreed that moonlight and water had never looked so
beautiful as on that night. At Beaufort we took the row-boat for St.
Helena; and the boatmen, as they rowed, sang some of their sweetest,
wildest hymns. It was a fitting close to such a day. Our hearts were
filled with an exceeding great gladness; for, although the Government
had left much undone, we knew that Freedom was surely born in our land
that day. It seemed too glorious a good to realize,--this beginning of
the great work we had so longed and prayed for.
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