Sixty-one years ago in Cincinnati eleven Negroes who called themselves the "Colored Christian Singers" shambled onto the platform of the old Vine Street Congregational Church. All eleven had been slaves, eaten hominy and bacon breakfasts in rude, smoky cabins, worked all day in cottonfields, sung spirituals in the light of the moon around their cabin doors. But they sang no spirituals that night in Cincinnati. Spirituals were slave songs. Accordingly they sang orthodox hymns and temperance pieces which made less impression on the audience than the rusty, ill-fitting suits the men...
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