The sole purpose of the General Government was the preservation of the Union. Slavery had been abolished by state legislation in all the North, thus voicing its attitude toward the system. The political position was that it should not be allowed to enter into new States admitted to the Union, but there was no purpose on the part of either political party to interfere with the right of the states to hold to an practice the system. At the same time there were many in the North, and men of prominence, who were very pronounced in opposition to slavery, in some cases to an extent that was regarded by the more conservative as intemperate and even revolutionary. This doubtless had its exciting influence on the people of the slave-holding States. On the other hand we had inflammatory deliverances from the South that were equally revolutionary.

The two sides were designated by the similar terms "Hotheaded Abolitionists" and "Southern Fireeaters." The purpose of the Government was the maintenance of the compact to which each State was pledged in its acceptance of the Constitution and its preamble, "We, the people of the United States."

General Washington foresaw the danger of individual statehood and deplored the "Weakness of the Government in the illiberality and jealousy of the States." In his farewell address his words were, "The Union is the palladium of your political safety and prosperity. It is of infinite moment that you should properly estimate the immense value of your National Union."

A plank in the party platform on which Mr. Lincoln was elected plainly indicated the rights of individual States. "The maintenance of the rights of States, and especially the right of each State to order and control its own domestic institutions according to its own judgment exclusively, is essential to the balance of power on which the perfection and endurance of our political fabric depends." Mr. Lincoln, in his purpose to preserve the Union, faithfully stood for this pledged principle in all his public deliverances, and when, purely as a ware measure, he issued the proclamation emancipating the slaves, it was so shaped as to leave the power with them to retain the system by giving them a time limit in which to lay down their arms and renew their allegiance to the Government. Mr. Lincoln's great spontaneous speech at Gettysburg is an assurance that he had no other motive than preserving the Union in the interest of the South as well as the North: "We are met to dedicate a portion of this great battlefield as the final resting place of those who have given their lives that the Nation might live."

But in spite of all assurances that the rights of the Southern States should have the same governmental protection as those of the North, and in spite of efforts to forestall the war by peace conferences, State after State, in violation of the compact, seceded and arrayed themselves in violent opposition to the Government of the United States, leaving the administrative power no alternative but the defense and protection of the Union, and troops were ordered to the front.

As the contest assumed formidable shape in battle, public excitement increased throughout the North to a tenacity almost impossible to describe, and which showed little abatement to the close of the struggle. Public opinion was divided on the question involved, and lines were sharply drawn between old friends in family, social and church relationship. The two sides were classified as conservatives and radicals, black republicans and secessionists, nigger worshippers and copperheads. Severely bitter words were spoken on both sides. It was hard for those who were in loyal sympathy with the Government, many of whom had relatives and near friends at the front exposing their lives for their country, to have a spirit of tolerance or charity toward those who expressed the least sympathy with the rebellion or denunciation of the Government.

The confidence felt in the righteousness of the Union cause and in the military power of the Government to speedily suppress the rebellion gave strong hopes to the general public that the war would be a short one. But after an experience of bloody conflict, during which time the morning papers with heavy headlines too often brought the words of defeat and great losses to the Union forces, saddening the hearts of loyalists and giving encouragement to those opposed to the Government, who grew more violent in their denunciations of the war, it began to dawn upon the people and the Government that our Southern antagonists were of like metal with our own Northern army. Rev. Henry Ward Beecher expressed the situation to a large London audience, while there seeking England's influence in the preservation of the Union, where he did the country invaluable service. In the midst of a strong and earnest appeal for the North and its righteous cause before a large audience, but one greatly at odds with him, he was interrupted with the question from one of his hearers: "If your cause is so righteous with your great Northern strength, why don't you put the rebellion down?" The quick reply was, "Because we are fighting Americans and not Englishmen."

On the anniversary of our national independence, July 4th, 1863, the heavy headlines of our daily papers announced two bloody but decisive battles of the war, the one at Gettysburg and the other at Vicksburg. In the previous month (June) the Confederate Government, elated with success, with full confidence in the safety of Richmond and in the impregnable defense of Vicksburg on the Mississippi, encouraged by expected aid from friends in Europe and by open sympathy from the North, ordered Gen. Lee to invade Maryland with forces almost equal to the Union Army, which under Gen. Meade was 100,000 strong. The bold attempt was planned to advance even to Washington. On June 26th the whole of Lee's army was in Maryland and Pennsylvania. At the same time, the strong opposition Gen. Grant was meeting in the bitter contest on the Mississippi in his advance on Vicksburg had a seriously depressing effect on the friends of the Union and gave encouragement and greater boldness to the opponents of the Government. Well do I remember those dark days with their bitter forebodings and the severe taunts of those denominated Copperheads. But this tense feeling of anxiety was dispelled by the news that came to us on July 4th of the decisive success of the North in the two historic battles at Gettysburg and Vicksburg to which the country had been looking with intense interest for a long time.

The closely contested fight at Gettysburg, which had a victorious ending for the Army of the Potomac on July 3rd, was a fearful and bloody struggle that brought sorrow and mourning to thousands of homes, both North and South, for the loss of those who, from honest convictions, gave up their lives for what they believed a just cause. With this news on the same day came the report of the unconditional surrender of Lieut.-Gen. Pemberton and the evacuation of Vicksburg, which had been besieged by Gen. Grant's forces from May 18th. That was a memorable Fourth of July. These two victories for the Union Army were received with demonstrations of joy and with a quieting effect on those who had rejoiced over rebel successes. These victories which meant so much for the preservation of the Union were hailed with joy by the authorities at Washington. The Secretary of State (Seward) sent a cheering circular letter to the diplomats of our Government in foreign countries, and the President, Mr. Lincoln, recommended the people to observe the 15th day of August as a day of public national thanksgiving, praise and prayer.

But the cruel was not ended. There were still two years of the contest. It was believed at the North, also in the South in later years, that the bold and outspoken sympathy with the rebellion and strong denunciations against the Government by several Northern journals and some prominent individuals were responsible for the prolongation of the bloody strife, so serious in its influence that Congress deemed it necessary to take drastic measures to suppress this rebellious influence by the arrest and imprisonment of seditious persons, which, together with the President's order in the Summer of 1863 of a draft to fill up the ranks of the depleted army, as authorized by Congress, was a new pretext for the Government opponents. Inflammatory speeches and bitter articles from the partisan press followed. One example from a New York paper: "The miscreants at the head of the Government are bending all their powers, as was revealed in the late speech of Wendell Phillips at Framingham, to secure a perpetuation of their ascendancy for another four years, after their triple method of accomplishing this purpose, to kill off Democrats, stuff the ballot boxes with bogus soldier votes and deluge recusant districts with negro suffrage." One of the fruits of these denunciations of the Government was a riotous movement in New York City on July 13th, 14th, and 15th, composed largely of the lower class of people who decried the draft, yelling in the streets "Down with the Abolitionists"; "down with the nigger"; Hurrah for Jeff Davis," etc. Their special wrath was against the colored people. Arson, plunder and murder resulted. The Asylum for Colored Orphans, valued at $200,000, in which two ladies well known and highly esteemed in Montclair were interested, was a special object of hatred. The infuriated rioters soon laid it in ashes and the terrified inmates fled, pursued by the mob, and were cruelly beaten and mimed. Men, women and children were clubbed to death in the streets. A sacrifice of many lives was reported and $2,000,000 of property destroyed. The riot, after its terrible work, was suppressed by the police aided by the troops. Six months later a negro regiment marched down Broadway for the field of battle equipped by the Loyal Legion.

This outbreak in New York gave a feeling of uncertainty to the surrounding country in which the citizens of Montclair shared, and as a precaution the men of the town organized and were drilled in military tactics for any emergency that might arise in our town. The meeting place for drill was the second floor, unfinished, of the present Grammar School building, Mr. William Sigler, one of our townsmen, a loyal Democrat, acted as our Captain. Intense loyalty for the Nation's honor, however, was strongly in evidence and dominated public sentiment in this locality. A call was made for a meeting of the citizens of the township to be held at Bloomfield (of which Montclair was then a part) to consider the question of raising our quota of men demanded by the government in accordance with President Lincoln's order. In the course of the meeting ex-Vice-Chancellor Dodd, still living in Bloomfield, gravely said: "Gentlemen, there are reasons why I cannot go to the front, but aside from myself and family all that I possess is at my country's command." The statement was greeted with hearty applause, which, with marked sincerity, he instantly checked and said, "I am not speaking for bunkum but for the Union," and this sentiment was so largely shared that the quota for our township was more than filled.

It used to be said in those trying days that the ministers and women at the South did more to incite the rebellion than any other class. This was also true on the Union side at the North. The Christian Church and the women were largely loyal and did valuable service to the country. For years preceding the war there was a growing sentiment in the churches against slavery, particularly its extension. At the same time there was a conservative feeling with many that it was unwise to refer to it in public service. I remember very well when public prayer for the enslaved would by many be regarded with disfavor. But when Fort Sumter was fired upon, conservatism weakened and the Christian Church was foremost in its declaration for the Union, and this was particularly true of our old First Presbyterian Church, as minutes on its records will show. Dr. J. Addison Priest was the pastor, but had just offered his resignation when the first guns were fired, and almost his last service was a strong patriotic deliverance urging his people to stand by the Union. It was received with thrilling interest and hearty approval.

Particularly interesting event of the final services of Dr. Priest was his officiating at the marriage of one of our young ladies to Lieut. Cranford, of New York, on a Sabbath afternoon in the church. The bridegroom had been summoned with his regiment to the front and hastily came to the town when arrangements were made for the marriage that afternoon. The young people suitably decorated the audience-room with United States flags, and with the church well filled with friends the beautiful young bride was conducted to the alter by her aged grandfather, Capt. Joseph Munn, where she was met by the bridegroom in full military costume and they were united according to the Church formula in holy matrimony. Those who were present and now living still recalled this impressive and beautiful service. Lieut. Cranford served his term in the army and died a number of years ago in the city of Washington, D.C., where his widow and two sons still live.

Rev. Nelson Millard, a young man fresh from the Seminary, was called to the pastorate of the church and soon made public his love for the Union by earnest appeals for loyalty to the Government and fearless denunciations of slavery. Some of the good old conservatives in all honesty felt it was at least imprudent to make the semi-political question so prominent to the pulpit, but the young pastor saw what he felt to be his duty and with commendable courage, with clear and intelligent deliverance on the duty of Christian citizenship, held the Church almost a unit during the war in full sympathy with, and in hearty support of, the Government. Whenever it became known that he was to preach on Christian duty to the country, the church would be crowded, many coming from surrounding towns.

The ladies of the town were well organized for any aid they could render through the agency of the Christian commission for the relief of the sick or wounded soldiers. When word came of bloody battles and notice was given from the pulpit of needed supplies for the wounded, the response from the ladies was hearty to their utmost limit in preparing lint, bandages, clothing and delicacies for the sick. In several emergencies the ladies met on Sunday afternoon, collected and packed many barrels for the soldiers' relief and forwarded them to the front. As Thanksgiving day approached an appeal was made for a good dinner for our boys at the front. A day was fixed to receive the offerings at the old church, where wide tables were placed in front of the pulpit platform reaching nearly across the audience room. In the evening the people gathered and it was pleasing to see the patriotic expression embodied in the bounteous supply of roast turkey, chickens, pies, cakes, fruit, etc., so heartily contributed.

There were many pleasant incidences connected with the occasion. One gentleman and his wife, now living in town, came in each bearing a fine roast turkey, one labeled Abe, for President Lincoln, and the other Andy, for Vice-President Johnson. The evening was spent in patriotic speeches from gentlemen of the town. The good things were packed that night in large flat cases and next morning shipped to our boys at the front.

Two of these turkeys were secured by a patriotic young lady from a gentleman who was pronounced in his opposition to the Government and the war, on a water, that she should carry one of them from New York, refusing all offers of assistance, and he to carry the other. The condition was agreed to, and a few weeks afterwards the following doggerel, which was appended to one of the turkeys, appeared in the Jerseyman," published in Morristown.

"These turkeys are sent from a Copperhead State
And were bought by a Copperhead, too;
But were won by a loyal Union girl
Who with pleasure now sends them to you.
On morning while turkeys were being discussed
Go herself and a copperhead friend.
She asked for love of our brave soldier boys
Thus he also some turkeys would send.
He agreed only on this one condition
To present her two turkeys to roast
Provided she gave satisfactory proof
That her zeal for the cause was no boast.
He would bring one turkey from New York,
She herself should carry the other
Through the boat and the cars all the way through
Refusing all aid from another.
It was done; the turkeys were bought, stuffed and cooked
And now without shade of misgiving
That coming from home they'd be welcomed with joy,
So send them to you for Thanksgiving."

The service rendered the sick and wounded soldiers by loyal hearts, in which the women were foremost, is beyond a moneyed estimate. The two organizations through which such heroic work was done for the moral and physical welfare of the soldiers, were the U.S. Sanitary and the U.S. Christian Commissions. They were constantly in the wake of the army with relief and comfort for the wounded and dying, often in sad and tender circumstances administering the consolation of the Christian faith to the dying and taking last messages for mother, wife and friend at home. The records state that $6,000,000 were expended in the Christian Commission work, and that a single fair in New York realized $1,181,500 for the work of the U.S. Sanitary Commission.

In the City of New York two military camps were located for the accommodation of troops passing through the city on their way to the front. One was at the battery and the other in the City Hall Park. Rough board barracks were built where the post-office now stands, and brave soldiers, temporarily here, received many kind expressions in word and deed from noble-hearted men and women.

One day while I was standing near the Astor House, opposite this camp, a Maine regiment came marching down Broadway headed by a fine band playing "John Brown's body lies moldering in the ground." To see those stalwart men in martial tread was an impressive sight, and as I thought of the horrors of war these noble fellows were facing, and which doubtless involved the lives of many of them, I could not keep back the tears.

The rendezvous for recruits of this locality was Camp Frelinghuysen, located in Roseville on the east side of Roseville Avenue a short distance north of the Lackawanna R.R. track. It was farm land at the time. Rough board barracks and tents furnished quarters for the soldiers and the fields offered ample room for drill. It was a common event in town for friends to drive down and visit the boys in camp. I recall such a visit with my wife in September, 1862, a few days before one of the regiments was to start for the front. While there we met a patriotic wife from Montclair who was making some repairs on her husband's clothing. Mrs. Doremus remarked "final stitches." She cheerfully replied, "Yes, and with love." It was not long after that the word came that the husband had been wounded in battle and had died May 5th, 1863, near Fredericksburg, Va. His body was kindly cared for by a Confederate family and afterward recovered and buried in the Bloomfield Cemetery. He left a bereaved young wife and son. His name is being perpetuated by the John M. Wheeler Post.

Frederick H. Harris, with intelligent and patriotic zeal for his country, volunteered his services in the army for three years. With a captain's commission he organized Company E of the 13th Regiment, New Jersey Volunteers. Previous to leaving Camp Frelinghuysen, September 1st, 1862, he was presented with a handsome sword and silk sash by his fellow townsmen. The presentation was made by Mr. Julius H. Pratt at a meeting of citizens held in the lecture room of the First Presbyterian Church, July 17th, 1862. Mr. Pratt made a pleasing and patriotic address in behalf of the citizens, followed by a thankful response from Capt. Harris. He was promoted Major, then Lieut.-Colonel and later Brevet-Colonel. He served with the army of the Potomac, marched with Sherman's army to the sea and was engaged in about the last battle of the war at Bentonville, N.C., receiving special honors. He lived many years afterward a respected citizen of Montclair, where he suddenly died March 16th, 1889. Over his grave his comrades have placed a monumental stone expressive of their esteem.

Dr. John J.H. Love, our town physician, who from the outbreak of the war had shown strong interest in the country's welfare, offered his services to the Government, was accepted and commissioned Surgeon of the 13th Regiment and mustered into the United States Service August 25th, 1862. His services were in requisition in less than a month later, at the battle of Antietam, September 17th, where our West Bloomfield boys, in about three weeks from the time they left Camp Frelinghuysen, met their first experience in the horrors of war, and with some of them it was their final. James M. Taylor, a promising young man of our town, was killed in this battle and his body never recovered. On account of personal achievement through his skill as a surgeon, Dr. Love was rapidly promoted from Regimental Surgeon to be Surgeon in Chief of the First Division, Twelfth Army Corps, which position he assumed August 1st, 1863. He was a member of Gen. A.S. Williams' staff and served at Different times under Gen. Hooker and Gen. Slocum. January 23rd, 1864, he resigned his commission and was honorably discharged from the United States Service, was heartily welcomed back to Montclair and resumed his practice among his numerous friends.

Joseph Nason, a young man of promise and only eighteen years old, living in the town, with strong and tender home attachments and many friends, with earnest patriotic zeal enlisted in the 26th Regiment, N.J. Volunteers, and was made First Lieutenant. In recognition of his devotion to his country his friends presented him with a handsome sword. He was later assigned to Co. H., 39th Regiment, N.J. Volunteers, and was killed in the last days' fight in front of Petersburg, April 1st, 1865, aged twenty years and ten months. With difficulty his body was recovered and brought home. It was a sad day in Montclair, I well remember, when kind friends conveyed his remains from the station to his father's house, which stood where Mr. Gates' residence now stands on Mountain Avenue. His funeral service was doubly sad, as it was held the Sabbath following the assassination of President Lincoln. The service was conducted in the First Presbyterian Church, of which he was a member, by the pastor, Rev. Nelson Millard. After the impressive service his friends passed in line by the casket and looked on the familiar and peaceful face of the young soldier. He was clad in his uniform and on his breast lay a mini ball marking the spot where he was shot. His body was buried in the Rosedale Cemetery. On the stone that marks his grave is carved: "A Christian patriot who devoted his life during almost the entire Civil War to the service of his country."

Sergeant Charles Littell enlisted September 18th, 1862, in the 26th Regiment, N.J. Volunteers and died from illness contracted in service March 6th, 1863, in camp at Belle Plain, Va., aged twenty-six years, leaving a young wife and one child. His funeral was largely attended in the M.E. Church, of which he was a member.

John B. Munn, another esteemed young man of the town, was a sad sacrifice to his country. He was First Sergeant of Co. E., 13th Regiment, N.J. Volunteers, and was killed while in action at Chancellorville, Va., May 3rd, 1863, aged twenty-five years. He left many relatives and friends mourning his loss. His grave is in Rosedale Cemetery.

Nicholas Bradley, of the 13th Regiment, N.J. Volunteers, a fine young German who had lived in town for some years, was a victim of the battle of Williamsburg. His death was a bitter grief to his younger brother, who was in my employ when the sad news came to him.

Peter King enlisted September 18th, 1862, in the 26th Regiment, N.J. Volunteers. He died in service at the Regimental Hospital near White Oak Church, Va., December 11th, 1862, and was buried in the National Cemetery, Fredericksburg, Va., Division B, Section B, Grave No. 408.

As the names of those from our town who did valiant service and survived the Civil War are recorded in the more complete history of Montclair, published in 1894. I have omitted the list in this paper. Many of them are still living with us, but their lessening number is apparent at every gathering of the Grand Army of the Republic. What we of Montclair owe to these veterans and those who died in service, securing to us the blessings we share in the Union preserved in this vast and prosperous country, is beyond estimate. It was the earnest desire of our lamented Dr. Love that some tangible memorial should evidence our appreciation and perpetuate the names of these men who voluntarily rendered such invaluable service.

To what these men were exposed in warfare may be better understood by some information direct from the field of battle. A personal letter from Dr. Love that I have preserved, dated at Maryland Heights, October 18th, 1862, states, "I am heartily sick of this life. I came out knowing just what it was, but a deep sense of duty to my country impelled me to go. I would return tomorrow if it were not for the same feeling of duty. On the day and after the battle of Antietam I had very, very hard work. I stood at the amputating table for four consecutive days and looked at night more like a butcher from the slaughter house than anything else."

Some time after the close of the war a day was fixed for the dedication of the National Cemetery at Antietam, where were buried so many of our men who fell in the bloody battle to which Dr. Love referred in his letter. The doctor invited me to accompany him to the ceremony of dedication and visit the battlefield in which he felt a strong personal interest. The attendance there was large, with representatives from various parts of the country, including many prominent military officers and citizens. President Andrew Johnson was conspicuous and made an address. Some of his remarks I remember were not kindly received by the many veterans in attendance who were now standing near the graves of their fallen comrades. While there we walked about the town and battlefield. It was pathetic to hear the doctor tell of sad incidents that he had seen connected with the various points as we passed, still so fresh in his mind. As we ascended a little hill and neared the Dunker Church, which, as well as the fence and trees, was still marred with bullet shots, he pointed to the woods back of the church and said "There the rebel force were stationed," and off to the right he pointed to another hill and grove where a strong Union artillery force was located. "The Confederates crossed the road near the little church, entered the field in front of us advancing in well drilled order on toward our batteries, and when in proper range the Union order was 'Fire,' " and, he added sadly, "as the smoke cleared away, the poor fellows were lying dead in rows."

Some years ago I had a very pleasant meeting with S.H.M. Byer, of the 5th Iowa Regiment, and author of "Sherman's March to the Sea." His account of war experiences was interesting and sad. As he related the terrible sufferings of himself and others at Libby Prison, so vivid and distressing, it needed his living presence to assure me that he could possibly endure such hardship and live. Escape was his only hope of life. Bartering the few little valuables he had left, he procured piece by piece a full Confederate suit and in it boldly walked out of the prison grounds, passing guards and outposts by various subterfuges. He related hair-breadth escapes that made my hair stand. An article from his pen in Harper's Magazine, a little more than a year ago, gives his experience in battle: "Grant's army was making its advance on Vicksburg. We charged up into the woods under a heavy fire. Suddenly we were stopped by a blazing line of Confederate musketry. There the two lines, the blue and the gray, stood two mortal hours and poured hot musketry into each other's faces. I was struck twice, but slightly hurt. Comrades near me I saw covered with blood, their faces black with powder, fighting on. The dead lay everywhere unnoticed. Would that awful line in front of us ever give way! The terrific fighting continued. Some took cartridges from the dead and fought on. Once we were being flanked. A boy ran up to me crying. 'My regiment has run, what will I do?' 'Load and fire.' He did until both his legs were shot off by a cannon ball. Before sundown the battle was over. Leaving our dead unburied, our wounded in the woods, we hurried on. 'That was war.' "

Reference has been made to the Vicksburg siege. The above battle was fought during this siege and its surrender came at the same time with the decisive victory of the Union forces at Gettysburg. After this there was little doubt on the part of the Government and the loyal people of the North as to the final issue. But all were not of this opinion. A townsman whose opinions on ordinary questions would command respect, said to me but a few weeks before Lee's surrender: "The North will never succeed in this war." I smiled, but did not say what I believed - that his judgment was shaped by his party preference.

In the face of defeat, the Confederacy, with true American grit, continued the contest against great odds. Encouraged still by Northern sympathizers, the contest continued under the leadership of Gen. Lee, pitted against Gen. Grant at the head of the Union forces, with increasing devastation and distress throughout the Southern States to an extent that was not known till after the war was ended. Some particulars were given me by a lady in Aiken, S.C. Her home had been in Charleston till near the time it was evacuated. Her husband was pastor of one of the city churches. Her story was sad to hear. It told of the stress to which they were driven for the ordinary necessities of life, the loss of property, the terrible suspense, fearing an uprising of the Negroes. The family silver was concealed in the bottom of the well or buried in the field. In the final settlement of the pastor with his church, as I remember, he received in amount $1,500, paid in Confederate currency so depleted in value that it took the entire amount to purchase for himself a hat. While we were there we bought $1,000 bills of the same currency for ten cents each. They were estimable people and still felt theirs was a righteous cause, but deeply deplored the assassination of President Lincoln, whom they believed to be a true friend to the South.

It was on Sunday, April 2nd, 1865, when the end of the war was in sight. A telegram from Gen. Lee was handed to the Confederate President Davis at 11 A.M. while attending service at St. Paul's Church, Richmond. He quietly withdrew from the church, his face expressing anxiety, and of necessity the contents of the telegram soon became known: "Richmond must be evacuated this evening." The historic record of the event is: "With blanched faces and dark forebodings, residents of the city were hastening to collect their effects and every available conveyance was in demand to hasten the flight. By authority, barrels of liquor were emptied into the streets and many of the public buildings and storehouses fired, and by midnight all signs of the boasted Confederacy had fled from Richmond, its seat of government, with the city in flames as well as the war boats on the river." At an early hour on Monday morning, Gen. Weitzel, with a colored regiment, entered the city and first extinguished the fires. Gen. De Puyster, of Gen. Weitzel's staff, unfurled the United States flag on Virginia's State House where it had not floated for four years.

At this time, while the Federal troops were in front of Richmond, our pastor, Dr. Millard, was with them on leave of absence from the church to serve on the Christian Commission. He was offered by his old friend, Gen. Ripley, a horse on which to ride into the city with his staff, but concluded to walk in with two other young clergymen, of whom Rev. Charles E. Knox of Bloomfield was one. Gen. Ripley was made Provost Marshall of Richmond the first day, and Dr. Millard, with others sitting at his table, at his dictation (?) wrote orders for guards, which the General caused to be stationed in many points of the city. From the city he mailed me two Richmond papers, one issued just before the evacuation and the other soon after. The paper on which they were printed showed to what straits they were reduced for ordinary material. The first paper was marked by strong rebel sentiments and the later issue with quite a spirit of moderation, very expressive of changed circumstances. I preserved these papers for many years as valuable historic matter, and very much regret at this present moment I am not able to find them.

The evacuation of Richmond, followed by Gen. Lee's surrender on the 9th of April, was received with great joy all over the North. It would be very difficult to give to the younger people of the present day a full understanding of the deep heartfelt gratitude that possessed the public mind when the news was wired throughout the North that the sad Civil contest was ended. Strong men grasping each other's hands with tearful eyes expressed their earnest feelings of thankfulness. At the National Capital public offices were closed, business suspended and general rejoicing prevailed. The National colors, with renewed brightness, were floating all over the country. Broadway, New York, was ablaze with the Red, White and Blue. In Wall Street immense throngs listened to patriotic speeches, while old Trinity Church bells chimed music in accord with the general rejoicing and thousands of voices in this great financial center joined in singing the Christian Doxology, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow," thus expressing the universal joy that was felt over the conclusion of the bloody war and over the Union preserved.

It was rather remarkable in the closing days of the four years of war, how joy, sorrow and bitter hate grouped in historic events. On Sunday night, April 2nd, the dismayed Confederacy evacuated their Capital City, Richmond. On Monday morning, the 3rd, the Union forces possessed the city and raised again over the Capitol the National Union emblem. On the 9th, Gen. Lee made complete surrender to Gen. U.S. Grant. On the 12th, the Confederate soldiers laid down their arms. On the 14th, the U.S. flag was again raised over Fort Sumter; and while in the midst of the general rejoicing, that very night the telegraph flashed throughout the country the dastardly assassination of President Lincoln, shot by John Wilkes Booth, saying as he fled from the scene of his shameful act: "The South is avenged." As the country had grown to understand the magnanimous character of Mr. Lincoln, his universal charity that included the whole country as the one object of his efforts, knowing no North or South, the knowledge had engendered a tender regard for the President in the hearts of the people, making the sorrow all the more deep and sincere over the circumstances of his death; and with it was manifest, even with the most charitable, a latent spirit of revenge that was hard to keep in control. The tension was so strong that it was unsafe for a known opponent of the Government to intimate his approval of the act. That the assassination of Mr. Lincoln was a secret satisfaction to some living among us was well known. One man, it was reported, who had a boy born to him about this time, named him Wilkes Booth.

After Mr. Lincoln was shot he was carried to a plain residence near by, where he died the next morning, April 15th, at 7:22 o'clock. The house containing the little room where his great spirit left its mortal frame is preserved to the public, and in it is a large collection of material of interest connected with his tragic death and the events of those historic days. The body of the good man that the public desired to reverently honor was brought to New York en route to Springfield, Illinois.

Dr. Millard, who had seen the President on the streets in Richmond but a few days before, suggested that we go into New York and witness this historic funeral event. The great depot building at Jersey City was thronged with people at an early hour, awaiting the arrival of the funeral train. The body, under military escort, was taken to the City Hall in New York and placed on a catafalque near the entrance of the Governor's room, where I had shaken hands with him a few years before. After the public officials had looked upon his face, the general public were allowed to pass in line beside his casket. The largeness of the crowd of respectful people, eager to see the face of the great man, was an index to the deep feeling of sympathy that prevailed in the public mind. I was one of the great crowd in line, and, while it was orderly, my experience in the press was such that I regarded it as dangerous. No less expressive of public feeling were the somber emblems of mourning throughout the city and the entire country. Broadway, that a day or two before had been ablaze with the National colors, was now almost solidly draped with black. All the public buildings were clad in mourning with the large columns in front wound with black material. So extensive was the desire of the people to give expression to their sorrow in mourning emblems, it was said the market of suitable material was exhausted. In Montclair, with hardly an exception, every business place and private residence was draped in mourning. In the old church the pulpit was heavily draped and the galleries festooned with black. Those were sad and impressive times that will cling to memory. They brought to the public mind a more tender sympathy with the many, both North and South, who were in deep personal sorrow over the loss of noble men of their own families.

The fact that Fort Sumter was the place of the first attack in the war gave it a prominence as a historic battleground like Bunker Hill, Jamestown and Princeton, and a place of interest to visit. I remember with what peculiar interest I walked through the battered fortification and saw the historic guns that answered the first rebel cannonade. It was just five days after the surrender of Gen. Lee and on the fourth anniversary day of the withdrawal of the United States command of this old fort, that a large delegation of citizens from the North assembled with patriotic interest and saw the raising again by Gen. Anderson of the same United States flag he was obliged to haul down four years before. Among the visitors were Rev. Henry Ward Beecher and, from our town, Mr. William B. Bradbury, much esteemed by the children of the town for the interest he had taken in instructing them in Sabbath school music. He was invited to tell the children of his visit to Fort Sumter. His account was exceedingly interesting. The one thing that seemed to particularly impress him was the colored people, fresh out of slavery and the hard experience of the war. After some description of their characteristics, he said, while they had a feeling of vengeance against the rebellion it was tempered with a sort of religious emotion illustrated in their singing, which he gave in their own words and tune, viz.:

"Hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree!
Hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree!
Hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree!
Glory, Glory Hallelujah!"

The reconstruction of the country required years of patient and wise legislation in adjusting new and serious difficulties. The natural antagonism the war had engendered in the public mind, the hordes of untutored slaves made free, created difficult problems for the general Government and the States. More than forty years of time leave us more than a generation removed from the immediate strife. Intelligent statesmanship and a vast amount of educational work among the Freedmen, together with the intermingling of the people of the whole country through the present facilities of travel, have done much to obliterate sectional strife. The growing development of Southern industries, interstate commerce and increasing business relations bringing the people into closer contact and a better acquaintance in sharing mutual interests, will have their part in unifying the public feeling that, under the "Government of the people, by the people and for the people" we should reach a perfection in legislation that would give equal protection to all the people throughout the entire territory of these United States, and thus perpetuate this glorious union of States through all time.