The musical value and the charm of negro songs were little appreciated until the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University, Tenn., made their famous tour, which began in October, 1871. George L. White, the treasurer of the school--one of the institutions for the education of the blacks that came under the patronage of the American Missionary Association--desirous of raising funds for its maintenance, was struck with the artistic possibilities of the little choir of students which he had organized and trained. After several successful concerts held in nearby towns he embarked upon a grand tour of the country, with the object of raising a fund of $20,000. The little company of emancipated slaves--at no time more than fourteen strong--gave the world so remarkable a demonstration of the musical qualities of their race that the matter has hardly been called into question since. In less than three years, moreover, they brought back to Fisk University nearly $100,000. Their adventures are told in detail by J. B. T. Marsh, who, in his 'Story of the Jubilee Singers,' says in part: 'They were turned away from hotels and driven out of railroad waiting rooms because of their color. But they had been received with honor by the President of the United States, they had sung their slave songs before the Queen of Great Britain, and they had gathered as invited guests about the breakfast-table of her Prime Minister. Their success was as remarkable as their mission was unique! The climax of their tour was the participation in the World's Peace Jubilee held in Boston in June-July, 1872. There, before an audience of 40,000 people gathered from all parts of the country, they sang themselves into the hearts of the nation, in spite of a recurrence of race prejudice. Their singing of Julia Ward Howe's 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' to the tune of 'John Brown' was, according to Mr. Marsh, 'as if inspired.' 'When the grand old chorus "Glory, Hallelujah" followed with a swelling volume of music from the great orchestra, the thunder of the bands and the roar of artillery, the scene was indescribable. Twenty thousand people were on their feet. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs, men threw their hats in the air and the Coliseum rang with the cheers and shouts of "the Jubilees, the Jubilees, forever!"'