The multitude, shaken out of its usual symphony-concert calm, quivered with an excitement that was not suppressed.

A dozen times it had sprung to its feet to cheer and wave and hurrah, as one person.

When this man of culture and voice and power, as well as a dark skin, began, and uttered the names of Stearns and of Andrew, feeling began to mount.

You could see tears glisten in the eyes of soldiers and civilians.

When the orator turned to the coloured soldiers on the platform, to the colour-bearer of Fort Wagner, who smilingly bore still the flag he had never lowered even when wounded, and said, "To you, to the scarred and scattered remnants of the Fifty-fourth, who, with empty sleeve and wanting leg, have honoured this occasion with your presence, to you, your commander is not dead.