Opening material · Part 2

The Colored troops in front of Richmond were moved from the breastworks on the left at Fort Harrison, to the hill in the center, where we built up a fine elevation overlooking the Rebel works in Richmond. Here we remained several days under heavy cannonading. We held the enemy so that they were unable to make any gains on us for four weeks. They made several attempts to storm and to cut off our supply, but they signally failed. But our men understood how to construct railroads and we would frequently hear the whistle of a locomotive in some direction bringing in our supplies. Our forces were well guarded on every hand by squads which were experts in caring for the welfare and needs of an army. We could hear the result of our bombarding in such cities as Petersburg, etc., and knew that our forces were gradually gaining and that the Rebels were gradually losing in their strongest holds.

On the twenty-seventh of March we struck our tents and moved on to Richmond. We were soon formed in line of battle in front of this city. The Rebels blew up three gunboats and evacuated their works immediately in front of us. There was heavy cannonading from the gunboats in the James River, the Monitor and other boats.

At this time there were many refugees coming to us by the hundreds. This was in part the result of Sherman’s march to the sea. He left in his wake many monuments of this famous march. There were deserted villages, chimneys standing without the houses about them, and troops of stragglers following the army.

Colonel Wooster ordered the 29th Regiment to advance and to do some daring work in the digging up of buried torpedoes which had been planted to impede the march of the Union Army. We were however equal to the task. We captured five hundred pieces of artillery, six thousand small arms, and the prisoners I did not count, but when we looked on them in the prison pen, the number seemed to be enormous.

We were present in Richmond when President Lincoln made his triumphal entry into the city. It was a sight never to be forgotten. He passed through the main street. There were multitudes of Colored people to greet him on every hand. They received him with many demonstrations that came from the heart, thanking God that they had seen the day of their salvation, that freedom was theirs, that now they could live in this country, like men and women, and go on their way rejoicing. Orderly I. J. Hill said that he saw a colored woman trying to get a look at the president, at last he came along and Orderly Hill said to her: “Madame, there is the man that made you free.” She shouted, “Is that President Lincoln? Glory to God, give Him praise for His goodness.” The President, with his son, and Admiral Porter, together with others walked over a mile to the headquarters of General Weitzel, at the mansion of Jeff Davis. A colored man acted as the guide. There were six Union soldiers as advance guard, then came President Lincoln, his son, and Admiral Porter, while on his right and his left were other officers.

He was followed by six sailors with their carbines. This march created the wildest enthusiasm of the Colored people. They had lived to see the day of their liberty dawning. I was reminded of what had been done for the ancient Hebrews by Moses when he led them out of the land of their bondage, into the land of their promised liberty. Lincoln was indeed our Moses. He led us forth. He gave us our freedom. I noticed one white lady in a window, who turned away from the whole scene as if in utter disgust. There were still two sides to the question, then and there are two sides to it today. How long will these two sides remain, is the question. As the President looked out upon the poor Colored people and remembered how many lives had been lost in working out their salvation, he was not able to keep the tears from his eyes. They were tears of gladness and sorrow, of regret and delight; but the tears of my own people were the tears of the greatest joy.

The President went to the state capitol where he made a short address in which he said: “Now you Colored people are free, as free as I am. God has made you free and if those who are your superiors are not able to recognize that you are free, we will have to take the sword and musket and again teach them that you are free. You are as free as I am, having the same rights of liberty, life and the pursuit of happiness.”

While at Richmond, we engaged in many foraging expeditions. We found such things as eggs, chickens, butter, bread, fruit, tobacco. There were bales of tobacco in the streets free for every one who enjoyed the weed. And I must say that many were delighted with their free smokes. There was plenty of Confederate money too, which was often blown about by the wind as so much worthless waste paper. Well it was waste paper. With the passing of the Confederacy, the money value passed away on all such currency.

On April 16th, 1865, we were painfully shocked to hear of the death of President Lincoln, at the hands of an assassin. No one can measure the consternation which struck our hearts. This great and wonderful man who had guided the Ship of State through four years of such perilous waves and winds, that he should thus pass away and in such an infamous manner, was more than we could stand. But it was so. Our faith was almost staggered, that faith which had sustained us in so many battles, was now staggering under a blow which was severer than any battles, the death of our Immortal leader. Thus in four years from the first shot fired on Fort Sumter, four years from the very day of the first shot, the shot was fired from the hand of Booth, that removed one of the greatest men the world ever knew, from the scenes of human action. He was removed too at a time when he was most needed. Yes, he was more needed, than when the nation was in the midst of a bloody conflict. He was now needed to set up the battlements of peace, which is a more difficult work than the forts of warfare.

On the twenty-fourth, we moved from the camp near Petersburg, to Camp Lincoln where we enjoyed our camp life for awhile. We had lost many of our numbers through death on the battlefield and disease in the camp, but losses were now being recruited by volunteers coming to us. I was kept busy filling our regimental papers, ordering and issuing rations. Some of our men had become so rum thirsty that they would offer me ten dollars for a canteen full of whisky. But I was not allowed to sell it, and to give it out only on the orders of the Quartermaster.

We were not here long. We embarked on the Demolay for Norfolk, Va. General Russel and staff came on board to tell us goodbye. I had two barrels of supposed corn beef, the boys called it salt-horse, which I suppose was nearer the truth. I had also a barrel of sugar. These I could not ship, so I left them on the ground, for some poor fellows that could use them. Colonel Wooster came also and saw us off. We left many friends, some of them with tears in their eyes. They had become very dear to us. We had shared together the hardships of camp-life and of the battlefield. Human suffering makes men very near akin. As we glided swiftly down the James River, for a while we could hear their cheers and when sound was out of touch, we could see their salutes of hats and handkerchiefs. We enjoyed the day as soldiers on board the vessel. I was astonished at the behavior of the soldiers. They gave themselves over to all kinds of sports and jestings, which disgusted me most thoroughly.

Many were unruly, even threatening the lives of those who favored going to Texas whither we had been ordered for garrison duty. Some of the gang were arrested for their insubordination. My heart was made to shudder at the degrading and shameful life which was manifested on board the ship. Their swearing, drinking, gambling, dancing, etc., was heartsickening. It was indeed a revelation and shows what men will do when not under the eye of authority. Human nature is indeed most sinful, and were it not for the restrictions which are thrown about us, none of us know what might come to pass. We arrived at Norfolk and anchored for the night. With having witnessed the debauchery on board the vessel and at the same time wrought with anxiety for my wife and two babies, my father and mother at home, I confess I was in a most depressed condition of mind and heart. “Be strong and of good courage,” came to me like a flash and I was strong and buoyant in a little while. How grand is the truth of God, when we find it such a rock of refuge in times of trouble; I was thus greatly consoled and went to bed looking up at the shining stars, as if they were so many angels, sent by God, to guard me.

There was quite an excitement on board when it was whispered about that the officers had covenanted together to take the soldiers on board, to Cuba, and sell them as slaves. There was quite an indignation against I. J. Hill, for it was thought that he was in some manner party to this arrangement. The men were suspicious also of Sam Brown, a clerk. I, together with others, had the good fortune to escape any insults or indignities. While at Norfolk, we went to church and saw quite a number of well-to-do Colored people. Rev. J. M. Brown, of the A. M. E. Church, I think was pastor. He treated us very cordially indeed. We were introduced to many of the congregation. This church had a Sunday School of six or seven hundred members. It was an inspiring sight to see them nicely dressed and to hear them sing so sweetly, many beautiful Sunday school songs. But the time had come when we had to leave the many dead of our comrades. We had done all that we could for them in the last sad rites of death and now their bodies were resting under the cold sods of the South, awaiting the Resurrection Day, when we will all meet again and hear our record of the deeds done in the body and the judgment based on these deeds. The memories of war are one of the saddest features thereof. These memories can never be blotted out; for as we grow older they seem to become more vivid.

[Illustration: BETHEL A. M. E. CHURCH

Woodbury, N. J. Built by Rev. A. H. Newton, D. D.]

We took shipping on the transport, Blackstone, for Texas. We were about fifteen days on the waters, the ocean was calm. There were six or seven hundred on board. It was no little job to take care of the hungry stomachs of these men. But we had a most pleasant trip and enjoyed the ocean waves and breezes. The officers spent most of their time in fishing. Once in awhile a fish six or seven feet long would be hauled in. For two days we were out of sight of land and only one small schooner passed us. There was much complaint on board on account of the army food which I was compelled to give them salt-pork or hard tack and bad coffee. They thought that being on board of ship warranted better food, but I told them that I had to give them what I had. And so we fought the battle of the stomach. There were many however who were afflicted with sea-sickness and had no concern for something to eat. We had a burial at sea. The poor soldier was sewed up in a blanket and consigned to a grave in the bottom of the deep. The funeral service was very impressive to many of us, for it was the first burial at sea we had witnessed. I must confess that there was a grandeur about it that inspired one--as the boundless ocean received the body of our comrade, eternity had received his soul. I thought of his loved ones and that in all probability they would never hear of him. Then I wondered if that grand song could not be an interpretation of this burial,

“Rocked in the cradle of the deep, I lay me down in peace to sleep, In ocean cave still safe with Thee, The germ of Immortality.”

At this time I was not a member of the church. But my father had taught me to pray. And as I have frequently related, I often prayed in battle when I thought that my time had come. I had a sense of the guilt of sin and of the need of confession of my sins. So I had also, the sense of peace which comes from a man’s justification through Jesus Christ. My case I am sure is but an illustration of the cases of many men and women who have not connected themselves with the church. They are real Christians as I was, having all the ordinary experience of the Christian, but not having made any outward profession. We are therefore unable to know who are the children of God, for certainly there are believers outside of the church. Our judgment therefore must always be a charitable one. Yet I do not want the impression to be made that I, in any sense, approve of believers remaining outside of the church. An outward profession of faith in our Blessed Lord, Jesus Christ, is an open badge of our religion which men can see.

We should not hide our light under a bushel, but put it on a candle stick that all about us may see what we are by what we live. When we rounded the Florida reefs, the boys’ hearts were gladdened, because they had seen the land once again and their thought was that they were nearing the end of the voyage. We had some sickness on board, such diseases as yellow jaundice, malaria, chills and fever. We were huddled together like a lot of wild ducks and the sanitary conditions were against our health. When about seven days on our trip, our drinking water failed us. We were on the water, yet we had no water to drink; but we did the best we could under the circumstances.

We were glad when we came into the harbor at Mobile, Ala. Here we found many transports lying in the harbor. Fort Gaines was to our right and Fort Morgan to our left. The boys were all delighted, because they were wild to get to land again, and especially to get a drink of good water. How dependent we are on mother earth after all for our lives. After passing the forts a short distance the anchor was dropped. The surroundings were grand. There were gunboats lying in the stream, with their artillery of death-dealing cannon looking forth from the decks and thoroughly manned with the smaller-implements of naval warfare. But our hopes were not fulfilled, for a command came that we were to sail immediately to New Orleans. The men were bitter in their disappointment, but such is the experience of war. Men are not free, they are the parts of the gigantic machine of death, so many cogs in the wheels, or so many wheels in the machine, or so many parts of the machine. They soon became reconciled however. We had plenty of hard tack and salt horse left us, and with this we could not starve to the death. Our voyage was an uneventful one, save for the good weather and fine ocean. We were soon in the channel for New Orleans. When we reached the forts Jackson and Phillips, a signal stopped us for inspection. We were told that we could not go to New Orleans, that none of the men or officers could go any further without an order from General Grant. The officers telegraphed to Washington to General Grant. We were in rather a dilapidated condition, about out of coal and in need of better fuel for the stomach, with the men completely worn out with the voyage.

We were however permitted to go on land at Fort Jackson. This was a magnificent fort with its seventy guns overlooking the water inlet. There were many alligators in this place and we amused ourselves by killing them, which of course was a greatly desired thing. I had plenty of hard tack and this seemed to attract the reptiles. I remember one fellow over seven feet long I killed.

At this place the Colored troops had been shamefully and barbarously treated. As I thought of the outrages which they had suffered only about one month before our arrival, I felt that if I could, I would like a little revenge on their account. But there was no opportunity for such outlet of wicked feeling. At last we received an order from General Grant to take the transport to New Orleans, to get a supply of coal and oil, and to have the transport repaired. But to our dismay, only the officers were permitted to go. We were left at Fort Phillips.

I managed however, to get to New Orleans, in that I had charge of the commissary department. We were already beginning to forget the hardships of the battlefield. Our minds were turning to the ordinary life which we live, and looking forward to the pleasures connected with home and with business. And I assure you, my dear readers, that it was a happy release. We had the constant joy in our hearts that our beloved people had their freedom, bought with the blood of those who now slept the last sleep on many battlefields; but we did not believe that the price paid for this boon of liberty was too dear. The price of human liberty can never be estimated. This is especially true of those who knew what slavery meant. And the Colored Race has an endless debt to pay their White friends who bought their liberty with their own blood. While it is true that the White people brought our forefathers here and sold them into slavery, which of course they had no right to do, this does not diminish the price which this same race had to pay in order to buy us out of the slavery into which they had sold us. And it does not in the least diminish the debt of gratitude which we shall owe them as long as time exists.

I had a short but very pleasant stay in New Orleans. On Sunday we went to the A. M. E. Church, of which the Rev. William A. Dove was pastor. This was the St. James A. M. E. Church. We were most cordially received by the pastor and members. They were kind enough to take care of us while in the city. We learned from the members that while we were on the battlefield, they were at home fasting and praying that our grand cause might be victorious. “Fight and pray” is sure to win the day for any just cause. The services were very pleasing and profitable. The pastor preached in the morning and our orderly I. J. Hill, at night. I and others, were much lifted up and realized anew what it was to draw water from the wells of salvation. We spent much of our time in seeing the sights of the unique city of the South. Our friends were more than kind to us during our stay. We lacked nothing for good beds and good food and good society; and we were in good shape to appreciate these things, because of the privations, losses, suffering, and fears through which we had passed.

Our transport having been repaired and furnished with needed coal and oil and food, we were soon on our way back to the fort. We had not gone far on our course until there was an alarm of fire. This created quite a panic, but the blaze was soon put out and we were enjoying our trip down the “Father of Waters.”

We arrived at Fort Phillips with more soldiers for the Twenty-ninth Regiment, they having been brought in from other quarters.

We were soon off for Texas. With the transport loaded with human freight, we started for Brazos De Santiago, Texas. We found the gulf quite rough on our entering it. This produced sea sickness with a great many. I remember one fellow who was very sea sick. I was unable to do anything with him. He was continually calling out “New York, New York.” “There goes my liver,” he cried, having spit up some blood. Our great trouble on this voyage was the lack of water. They had a condenser on board which reduced the amount of salt a few degrees, but we could easily taste the saline property of the water. We found Brazos a most undesirable place, there were plenty of fleas and mosquitoes and sand burrs. We had our headquarters at this place which was knee deep in water. Our Colored troops were nearly perishing for water. The suffering was most intense. It was heart-rending. I cried out to God to send us some help. We had but little water and that was quite brackish. Our means of condensing the water gave us only about five thousand gallons when we were in need of not less than ten thousand gallons. We paid ten cents a canteen for water and would have been willing to have paid fifty cents, or any price.

After a while we met some Mexicans who had brought water from the Rio Grande and sold it for ten cents a canteen. Colonel Sadrick was very indignant over this hardship. When he saw our scars and realized how much these good soldiers had suffered and the privations through which they had already passed, he saw General Wietzel and requested that the troops should be taken from Brazos. He met with success and we took our line of march for White Ranch on the Rio Grande River about ten miles south of Brazos. The march was one of great trial. We were in mud knee deep and in some places the water was waist deep. When we reached the Ranch, the soldiers were well nigh famished. They made a mad rush for the river and while many of them were on the bank, it gave way, and several of them were drowned. We were all greatly saddened over this misfortune. It seemed enough that men should have given up their lives on the battlefield, this was matter of course; but when men who had stemmed the tide of death which swept the battlefield were drowned, it seemed more than we could stand to see them cut off from their loved ones by a mere accident. But it was the Lord’s way to take some more of them home.

It was not a hard matter for us to sleep the first night. We spread our rubber blankets on the bare ground and enjoyed our rest as much as if our beds had been made of feathers. The next morning we saw the body of a man floating down the muddy river. He too had evidently met with some accident, or had been killed and thrown into the river. It was not our duty to make any investigation.

I prepared the best breakfast possible for the boys. Our fuel was gathered from the woods and rail fences. I said woods, but unfortunately there was not a tree in the whole country, so we had to do the best we could. But we had coffee, rice, sweet potatoes and our regular rations. We put up our tents here and soon had the camp under military discipline. Then we left for Brownsville, Texas, a distance of twenty miles. The march was a trying one on account of the bad roads. We were not able to keep our stores with us on this account and left a detail of soldiers to guard them. Many a solder sickened and had to be taken to White Ranch to be cared for by Orderly Hill. Some of the men died on the way and were buried under the Texas sod with no stone to identify them. One boat was on its way to Brownsville with rations. I remember my homesickness at this time. After the battles had been fought, I was anxious to return to my loved ones.

I felt that my duty had been done towards my country and that now I must take up my duty to my dear ones. We were soon joined by Orderly Hill. He said that he had gotten tired waiting for the boat and had come on to be with us. He threw a few chunks together and started a fire and lighted his pipe. After a few moments reflection, he said: “These light afflictions are but for a moment, for they work for us a far more and exceeding weight of glory.” We met a drove of hungry wolves which made two or three attempts to come to us, but about fifteen shots from our guns were enough to satisfy them they had no more need of us than we had of them. In time we reached Brownsville. We saw strange things there. The houses were little huts; the people dressed in their shirts and drawers; the women dressed in a long shirt with their breast exposed, seemingly caring nothing for decency or modesty. It did not look to me that the people here had ever known what it was to know or to serve the true and living God.

They were certainly far from any such practical knowledge, judging from their daily lives. I thought “If the righteous scarcely be saved where then shall the sinner and the ungodly appear?” The next morning I was not feeling well. I went to one of the streams and bathed. There were plenty of lizards, frogs and horned toads about. The horns of the toad reminded one of the horns of a goat. It was a place of trials. Some of the men swore and cursed, others were kept too busy scratching, while others were praying. It was a time of sore trials. One of our officers, Captain Clark ought to have been with the Greys instead of the Blues, he had so little use for the Colored troops. So he marched them almost to death on this march. Colonel Wooster, a man of tender feeling and of a proper sense of right and justice and without prejudice against the Colored people, saw the outrage perpetrated against us and put Clark under arrest. He was kept there until Colonel Wooster resigned. After he left, we were again under the command of Captain Clark.

Orderly Hill was very sick and was ordered to the General Hospital. As I looked upon him I said to myself, Hill you are a very sick man and your warfare is about ended. There were about seven hundred in the hospital sick. They were treated as if they had been brutes, doctors and nurses being without any feeling. They were dying at the rate of ten a day. The stewards would search the dead, take their valuables, then report them dead. What a contrast between our camp on the banks of the James River and the camp in this far off, God-for-saken town of Brownsville, Texas.

And now after all our hard fought battles, our fears and foreboding, our privations and losses, we received the news from the War Department that the Twenty-ninth Regiment was ordered home. It is needless to say, that the home-fever spread more rapidly than any fever that had ever prevailed in our ranks. We looked for and patiently awaited the day when we would be ordered out. On the fourteenth day of October, 1865, at nine o’clock a. m., the recruiting officer was on the ground, at which time Company K. was mustered out. We were escorted through Brownsville by the Ninth U. S. C. T., Colonel Bailey being in command. We marched to an open field where the two regiments bid each other goodbye. It was an impressive scene, for these regiments had shared each others fortunes and misfortunes through the war. They had become inseparable, but now the best of friends must part. How happy we were that we should be permitted to breathe the fresh air again and to tramp through the country as free men. Yet I had the feeling that the Civil War was the mighty struggle of the White Race and that the struggle of the Colored Race was yet in the future.

There is such a thing as a man having to work out of his own salvation, and this is also true of a race. Our salvation had been bought for us by the nation, but it is ours now to work out this salvation. As we marched out through the grand country and these thoughts came to me, I cried out to God, “Can these dry bones live? Will this country give the Colored man an equal chance in the marts of trade, in industrial fields, and in the professions? He is yet untried in the ranks of an aggressive civilization, for he has been a slave. Can these dry bones live?” These were the prayer-thoughts that were filling my mind and heart. Our march was a trying one on account of the bad condition of the roads, but we were going home. No one but the soldier who has been honorably discharged after an issue has been settled, knows the joys that well-up in the heart as he turns his face homeward. The feeling is indescribable. There were several boys sick, but their spirits were revived on account of home-going.

We soon reached Brazos where we spent the night. I was very glad to say goodbye to my Texas friends and experience. They could live on the sandy plains of Brownsville, as long as they pleased; they could eat the strips of dried goat meat until they were satisfied; they could drink and relish the muddy water of the Rio Grande considering it the best water in the world; but as for me, I would choose other quarters. Now that the Confederacy had surrendered, now that the Palmetto flag had been lowered forever and Old Glory floated in its stead, now that millions of people were made free and could live and think as real men and women, I was more than happy to say goodbye to all these things and begin life anew.

We embarked on the transport Alabama, for New Orleans. Our voyage on the gulf was a rough one on account of a heavy storm. We were forced to cast anchor. We passed Galveston and were much pleased with the place. We found the citizens much more sociable than we had expected, for we knew that they were Secessionists and Rebels and that they had about as much use for Negro soldiers as the Devil has for Holy Water. Nevertheless, we went through the town and made the acquaintance of some of our brethren. We met an old lady who had been a slave. When she saw us and realized that the victorious end had come, she cried at the top of her voice. “The Lord, the Mighty One has conquered and we are all free! Glory to God!” We took on wood and I regulated my rations for we were four hundred and fifty miles from New Orleans. We were again on board the transport for New Orleans, but we were unable to leave the harbor on account of a fearful gale that swept the gulf. We made an attempt, but were forced back again into the harbor. The soldiers became quite unruly owing to their impatience and also, I suppose the feeling that they could do as they pleased. After a hard voyage we landed safely in New Orleans. We found an open lot in the south side of the city and put up our tents and made ready for a good night’s sleep. We felt that we could sleep now. That we had taken part in a mighty conflict and had shared in the victories of the war, it was now our right to rest. It was the sleep of the just man.

We had a quiet Sunday in New Orleans. Our chaplain preached for us. Great crowds came out to visit us and to give us their most hearty congratulations. They gave us coffee, sandwiches, fruits, etc., in token of the appreciation of our services in their behalf. We saw strange things in New Orleans. We found the mixture of French and Negro, called the Creole, speaking a dialect of the French. We found the Octoroon and that some of these unions had from one to seven children. We found that marriage among them was rather an uncommon thing and that a man could establish almost any relationship that pleased him and enter into the Creole life and be received and welcomed as one of them. We found that they drank more claret, champagne, whisky, beer, etc., than they did water. They of course had no sense of their obligation to God and I suppose that many of them really had no conception of the Real and True God. Their lives gave no evidence of such a knowledge.

The first annual conference of the A. M. E. Church was being held by Bishop J. P. Campbell. We enjoyed the services very much being in the spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ. We were in New Orleans two weeks. At the end of this time one of the men was shot. This created quite an excitement among us. We broke camp soon and marched through the streets to the wharf where we took ship. We were enthusiastically greeted on every hand, receiving god-speeds and congratulations and blessings. I shall never forget the musical voices of the people as they sang. The music sounded like a thousand silver harps, so soft and delicate and stirring it was! We went on board the steamer Champion. We said goodbye to the old city of New Orleans and to many of the new friends which we had made. We had a heavy sea. The storms were terrific. Our clothes were almost continuously wet owing to the rocking of the vessel, for days it was impossible to find a place to sleep. The voyage was quite rough all the way to New York.

At last we arrived at New York City. It was morning. We remained on board until about two p. m., when we left the boat and marched through the principal streets, receiving cheers and salutes. We had not forgotten our former experiences here however. And we were inwardly revolving the thought that as Black men we had done our part in bringing about a change of sentiment that would make a new city out of New York and every other city in the Union. And we felt that it was but just that we should receive some of the plaudits of praise and reward. When we passed down Broadway in front of the St. Nicholas Hotel, the flags of the Nation and of the state were suddenly hoisted by a Colored man and we gave three lusty cheers for the flag and country and home. At last the orders came to fall into line for our final trip. We marched to pier twenty eight East River where the steamer, Granite State, was waiting to carry us to Hartford, Conn. The distance was about one hundred and fifty miles. We were cheered by every town and village that we passed. We arrived at Hartford and were escorted to the camp grounds and tendered a fine reception by the citizens, a most pleasing welcome.

At eight o’clock one morning we were paid off, all but one hundred dollars bounty which was to be paid at some future date. Some went to their homes, others remained in Hartford, until they had spent all their money and were locked up in the prisons by the police officers. After having cleared up my commissary department and turning over my books and papers to the proper custodian, and having said farewell to my comrades, I took a midnight train for my home in New Haven.

The occasion of my sudden departure from Hartford is very interesting. One of our soldiers was passing a Jew store. He was begged to go in and buy a suit. He got the suit of clothes and walked out without paying for it. The soldier came into camp and soon the Jew followed. I would not allow him to enter camp and arrest the soldier. Not long afterward, I went down town and the Jew had me arrested and locked up. I was in jail until about midnight when some of my friends liberated me. Immediately I made my way to the station and left Hartford. I do not know that the Jew got his money and I was not much concerned.

I arrived at home at seven o’clock in the morning and found my wife and children, my father and mother, ready to give me the most hearty welcome and greeting which I received with a glad heart. I was not seen out of my house for about three weeks. I simply wanted to rest and to drink in the joys that were awaiting me. Then I went to Brooklyn, my wife’s home, and registered as a citizen of the United States. I again thanked God that the war was over and that slavery was dead. “Now unto Him that hath loved us and washed us from our sins in His blood, to Him be glory and dominion and power, now and forevermore. Amen!”

[Illustration: ALEXANDER H. NEWTON

A Young Pastor]

My Ministerial Life and Labors

After I had returned from the war, I took the needed rest, enjoyed the company of my family and got myself together for a new life. I had the consciousness of having done my duty to my country, of having contributed something to the liberation of my people from the galling yoke of slavery, and now the time had come in my life for me to determine upon what course I could enter that would contribute most to the working out of the salvation of my people upon lines of peace and prosperity. This was no little task. I decided that the best way to find out what God wanted me to do, was to follow the leading of His Providence in my life. I knew of no other way by which a man can ascertain the will of God. God is in the life of every individual as fully and really as He is in the life of a race or a nation. So I surrendered myself to His leading, determined that I would follow Him whatever might be the cost.

I felt a double assurance now that He had delivered me from death in many bloody struggles, that He had something of importance for me to do. I was not content to take up the old life that I had lived before the war, to remain in the fields of manual labor, not that I considered myself above such a life, but I felt that there was a course that would be vastly more valuable to my brethren, to my race. And I did not consider it egotism to honestly conclude that God had given me talents that warranted me in seeking such a course. “To every man according to his ability,” is the law of service. A man must find out what his ability is, God already knows what talents He has already alloted to this or that man according to his ability. In this way and this way only, can God and man be brought together, in the work of life.

[Illustration: BISHOP JABEZ P. CAMPBELL, D. D., LL. D.

Who gave me my first appointment]

On the evening of May sixth, I was received on probation, into the Fleet Street A. M. E. Church, of which Elder Gould was then pastor. I served as assistant superintendent and Secretary, Elder Cope being superintendent of the Sunday School; Robert Turpin, one of the preachers, was a close friend. I was engaged while in this church together with others in a Social Betterment work. This work was conducted in a house to house canvass, or visit. Great work was done during this year at the Bridge Street A. M. E. Church the Rev. Wm. Winder being pastor. There were about one hundred and fifty young people added to the church on profession of their faith in Christ. The Revs. Williams, Boyer, and Turpin, were the ministers who assisted in this revival.

I preached my trial sermon at the Fleet Street Church on the evening of September the 18th, 1871, and received Exhorters’ license from Elder Theodore Gould. On the following Sunday, I went with Rev. Matthews and others to Paterson, N. J., where we organized the A. M. E. Church. The people of Paterson seemed to have been greatly lifted up and great good was done in their city for the A. M. E. Church. Later on Bishop J. P. Campbell told Elder Gould that he wanted a young man to take charge of a church where a school was located. Brother Gould was kind enough to tell him of my desire for work and doubtless recommended me. Bishop Campbell took hold of me and gave me my first appointment at Pennington, N. J., where I took charge of the church and attended the school, Pennington Seminary. The leaders of the new church, Brothers Allen, Ely and Amanias Johnson looked at the new preacher very inquiringly and doubtless were laughing up their sleeves for I had not gotten the flimsy, panhandle, look off me as yet, and they were a little slow in taking hold of me and I did not know how to take hold of them. However, I managed to get on the good side of Bro. Allen. I told him the troubles of my heart and got his sympathy. One of these troubles was that I did not know much. He said that he would help me all he could and that I must stay close to the cross of Christ. So with the assistance of God’s grace and the help of Brother Allen, I was able to surmount all obstacles. I organized a church in the house of Lewis Schenks, at Lawrenceville.

I organized the church at Birmingham, having been assisted by Brothers Jos. Long and Maxwell Frost of Trenton. This church was afterwards reorganized and moved to Langhorne by Dr. John W. Stevenson. I attended the Pennington Seminary under the presidency of Dr. Hanlon. Rev. Mr. Marshall and the sister of Dr. Hanlon were of great service to me in my preparatory course. One day I was walking through the campass when I met Dr. Hanlon. He stopped and fixing his eyes on me said: “Young man you should walk upright before God and remember that all your strength comes from Him.” I shall never forget the deep impression that his advice made on me. It deepened my conviction of the Divine life in man and of the necessity of living that life daily. I felt no doubt like Naaman that I had need to go to the Jordan, the river of Israel and be washed from my leprosy of sin. This was the first time that I had charge of a church and I felt the keen responsibility. And I do not doubt that those who heard me preach had the feeling that instead of my having charge of them that they should have charge of me. But such things are of the ordering of the Lord who chooses babes to confound the wise and the weak things of the world to confound the mighty. There is a time when a man feels that the best thing that he can do is to get out of self into Christ. Self is one of the greatest blessings if Christ is its center, but if man himself constitutes the center of life it is the stronghold of every sin.

[Illustration: REV. THEODORE GOULD, D. D.,

Who gave me my first license to preach.]

While engaged in this work I frequently had to walk ten miles to Sorel Mountain, one of my appointments, which was a part of this circuit. My salary was indeed very small, but they fed me and cared for me the best they could, and God did the rest. I closed my work here with twenty-three converts added to the church. As I write these lines, I look back to see the ravages of time and what they have wrought. Those who were received into the church by me at that time, with very few exceptions, have finished their battle of life and completed their labors, long since, and have gone home to render a better service than they could have rendered here.

I made improvements on the Church buildings of the circuit and was able to make a good report to the Conference which met at Philadelphia. At this conference I was received into membership by Bishop Paul Quinn. It was here that I made for the first time, my acquaintance with Dr. B. T. Tanner, Rev. T. G. Stewart, Rev. Frisby Cooper and others. Rev. Joshua Woodland was my presiding elder. I was permitted to attend the Lincoln University, in Chester County, Pennsylvania. I was supported by Mr. Amos Clark Junion of Elizabeth, N. J., and preached on Sundays in the Siloam Presbyterian church. Here I made the acquaintance of a local preacher, Rev. David Croshon, of the A. M. E. Church and Brother Scisco from whom I learned a great deal about church work. Being wholly inexperienced and poorly educated, I felt the curse of the regime of slavery, although I had never been a slave. I longed for the equipment that comes from a thorough education and realized that if in some way I did not educate myself, I could never amount to much. So it is hard for me at my time of life although a closer student than ever, to understand or to be in sympathy with any preacher who in his ignorance, is satisfied to remain so. There is something sadly lacking in such a man and I greatly fear those qualities without which no man is either acceptable to God or to the church, as a minister of the Gospel.

[Illustration: BISHOP WILLIAM PAUL QUINN

Who received me into the Conference]

I realized also that in addition to my own weakness that this world was no friend to grace to help me on to God. I had many foes within and without me to overcome.

In June, 1870, I was requested by Bishop J. P. Campbell to report at the Philadelphia Conference, he having, in the interval, taken me up and sent me to the Pennington circuit. I reported at the conference and was transferred to the South under the care of Bishop John M. Brown. I was sent to Pulaski, Tenn. This was about the time that the Ku Klux Klan was having its sway in the south. These men were engaged in every kind of intimidation and cruelty in order to keep the Negroes from voting the Republican ticket. They would kill, torture, or do anything that came into mind in order that their purpose might be realized. At this time there were many Colored people holding office in the South. The unrest and the mental suffering of these times were as severe a strain almost as the period of the war itself. When I arrived at Pulaski, Tenn. I was introduced to what I might expect in the South. I presented my check to the baggage master for my trunk. He refused to take the trunk off the car, but threw it upon the platform in the roughest manner.

A White man standing near, saw that I was very much surprised at such treatment and approaching me, asked if I did not like that kind of treatment and that if I did not he would proceed to give me some more of it. I told him that I had made no complaints at all. He asked me where I was going and what I was doing, and I was glad to slip away and find the steward of the church. I related these things to him and he told me that I had acted wisely in being calm and making no fuss over the matter. He told me that the White folks were Ku Kluxing the Colored people without mercy and going out of their way to find provocations for such devilish work. The steward told me that I would have to be very careful as a minister in and out of the pulpit, that the Klu Klux Klan was especially after the preachers to force them to use their influence to make the Negroes vote the Democratic ticket in elections.

They found me a boarding place with a Mrs. Batts. I found that the Colored men of this community were doing good business. One was a cotton merchant, a Mr. Harris, I remember. I was greatly assisted in this charge by my local preachers. They were more experienced than I in the work of the pastorate and I felt them to be my superiors in everything. The meetings were good. Souls were converted and many were added to the church. There was not much money in circulation and the salary was small. They used cards to trade with, postage stamps, and whatever of value would be accepted or exchanged for what you wanted. I remember one night the Klu Klux Klan came to the house of one of my members, a Mr. Pleasant Rector, called him to the door and shot him down as if he had been a dog. His wife and children were frightened almost to death. One of his daughters asked me what she must do. I could tell her that nothing would help such dreadful matters, so we all went to the church and prayed over the matter, and I consoled them as best I could. These were dreadful times. The hatred and the revenge of the Southern White man who had been whipped by his Northern White Brother, were now visited upon the still helpless race. We had to receive the very wounds which the Southerners would loved to have visited upon his White brothers, and which they tried to visit upon them in war, but failed. We did a good work here along temperance and missionary lines.

In September, 1873, the Conference convened at Memphis, Tenn. This was the annual conference of the A. M. E. Church and it convened at the St. Andrews Chapel of that city. Rev. B. L. Brooks, preached the opening sermon. The Bishop, John M. Brown, was belated, so the conference proceeded with business, having made Elder Page Tyler chairman, and Elder Brooks, secretary. The regular routine of business was purposed. Bishop Brown arrived on the fourth day, having gotten his dates mixed, then he was afraid that at that time it was unwise to hold any public meetings owing to the presence of yellow fever in the city. The Conference remained in session until it had completed its business. Yellow fever at this time was raging in Memphis. A friend told me that he stood at a street corner and counted seventy-four funerals as they passed. In the house where I was stopping, there was a yellow fever case in the room next to mine. The meeting of the Conference in Memphis was a very successful one considering the obstacles contended against.

The following Conference held a year later, was in Nashville, Tenn. This Conference was presided over by Bishop Brown. At this conference several were ordained as deacons, among them myself. While at Nashville, the Conference visited Fisk University and also the Tennessee college.

During this time I remained at Campbell Chapel, Pulaski, Tenn. We bought ground and made brick and quarried stone, for the basement of a church. There were about fifty members added to the church.

I cannot refrain from speaking frequently of the great injustice done the Colored man in the South at this time. Prejudice was rife. It showed its hydra-head in every possible way and was a serpent with a venomed sting. I remember an incident which illustrates how fearful this prejudice was. I saw a White man bring his horse up to a public watering place, and about the same time a Colored man drove his horse up to the same trough. He said to the Colored man, “A Nigger’s horse can’t drink with my horse,” and ordered him away. Immediately a mob gathered and beat the man to death for this “crime.” I preached the funeral of the poor fellow, but was not allowed to refer to the circumstances, or I suppose there would have been another funeral in a day or so. My report at the end of this year was a reasonably good one, the number who had joined the church was about one hundred and ten and for all purposes we raised about $2,518.00. I was indeed very well satisfied with the work of the year.

The next Conference met in Chattanooga. This conference was presided over by Bishop Brown, assisted by Bishop Ward. The various reports showed the church to be in a growing and prosperous condition. The Conference report showed 9527 members of the A. M. E. Church in this Conference, 1122 probationers, 210 local preachers, 120 exhorters, 114 churches, valued at $106,101.00. This was a good showing so soon after the war. At this Conference I was appointed to a charge in Chattanooga, Tenn., with Elder R. French Harley as my presiding elder. We had a fearful flood during this year in Chattanooga. There was great suffering and loss of property. I did not do well in this charge, however I completed, the church and added 86 to the membership of the Church. I found that it was necessary to turn two men out of the church, for their misconduct. They gained the confidence and bias of the presiding elder, and he moved me from this place. Thus it is that a man must suffer for the right that he does, while many go unpunished for the evil doings. But that should afford no reason for not always doing the right. We, as ministers of the Gospel, must take our stand for the uprightness of character and the righteousness of conduct, without any consideration of the price which this stand will cost us. Bishop Brown transferred me to the Arkansas Conference, which met at Pine Bluff, Arkansas. At this conference I was ordained Elder by Bishop Brown and sent to the Bethel A. M. E. Church at Little Rock, Arkansas.

I found in this city the prejudice against the Colored people rife and that they had to contend against very great odds on every hand. But in spite of this, many of the Colored people were in a flourishing condition. There were men prominent in the ministry who had gone out from this place, such as Revs. H. H. Pettigrew, Reuben Johnson, A. A. Williams, J. F. A. Sission, J. T. Jennifer, Andrew J. Chambers, and others. The Hon. Judge Gibbs, William Rector, and Elias Rector who was fulfilling a prominent place in the post office were leading business men. The church here was built by Brother J. T. Jennifer, D. D. My daughter Ada was with me at this time, my son William Alexander, having remained in Tennessee. There were many noble workers in this church, viz: Joseph Stone, Jerome Lewis, Nelson Warren, Sam White, Willie Oliver, and others whose names are too numerous to mention.

My wife, Olivia Newton having died in 1868, and being a widower, while here I became acquainted with a young lady, Miss Lulu L. Campbell, secretary of the Sunday School. I found her to be a noble Christian woman and felt that the Lord had brought us into contact for a great purpose. After having considered the matter and having consulted my daughter and finding that she approved, we were married June 1, 1876.

After paying off a little more of the debt on the church and adding about ninety souls to the membership of the church, I finished my first year’s work. The Conference met the following year at the Bethel Church, Little Rock. At this Conference I was transferred by Bishop Ward to the Louisiana Conference and was to have been stationed at the St. James Church, New Orleans, but owing to some miscarriage in the appointments, I was given the station at Algiers, La. There as in other places, I was not long in arranging and drilling my forces for active work. We succeeded in repairing the church, but were greatly hindered by the ragings of smallpox and yellow fever in this section. I remember a fearful example of the work of the K. K. K. in this section. A woman had been taken by this devilish clan and they had cut off her breasts. She showed her bosom to a few and they had done their work well, for her bosom was as flat as a man’s. These were some of the outrages that were continually committed on the Colored people. It is sometimes wondered at, that the Colored people are so slow to place confidence in the White Race, that they too, have a deep seated prejudice which now and then crops out in some vile offense against the White Race, if our White friends only understood that these fearful atrocities committed then and even now, against my people, are not easily forgotten, they would the better understand. Human nature is the same and it will require a great deal of the grace of God to smother out all the horrible memories that have passed from individual hearts into the heart of the Race to which I belong. But the time will doubtless come and then we will see a different state of affairs.

I remember another incident at this place. As I have said, the smallpox was raging. I was invited to conduct the funeral of a small boy who had died of this disease. When I went to the house and was seen by the mother, she rushed to me and threw her arms about me and wept. Of course she had been nursing the child. I was greatly annoyed by this foolish act which threatened the health of my own family, but as the good Lord willed, nothing came of it. After doing my best here, I decided that I would not stay longer. I consulted Bishop Ward and others. They told me that I was making a very unwise step, but I got a transfer and went to Bishop Brown in the North Carolina Conference. The Conference met November 14th. at the Gaston Chapel, Morgantown, N. C., presided over by Bishop Brown. The regular routine of business was taken up and the reports showed a growing condition of the church. Dr. H. M. Turner, manager of the Publication Department and J. H. W. Burley, financial secretary, appeared and made their reports. The number of members in the Conference as reported were, 5131; probationers 877; churches 58; support of pastors $4749.51. I was received into this Conference and appointed to the station, Raleigh, N. C.

I had instructions to go to Mr. Norfleet Dunson, but he was away and I was sent to Mr. Stewart Ellisons.

When I went to Raleigh, I had a very discouraging experience. I drove up to a Brother Ellisons’, rapped on the door. A lady came to the door. I told her that I was the preacher who had been sent to the St. Paul’s A. M. E. Church. She informed me that all her family had gone to the funeral, so I had my trunk brought upon the porch and sat down upon it. She had evidently expected me to come in when the trunk was safely on the porch. But I remained in the porch, being worn out and out of patience.

Presently she came out and invited me in. I told her that no one was at home but herself and that I would remain outside until the folks came home. She said, “Now I don’t want any foolishness around here, if you have been sent here to be pastor of our church, you come right in.” Well, that was hearty enough a reception, a positive command, of course I obeyed orders, I had learned this in the army. Soon the family returned. They were delighted to see me, built a fine fire, made ready a fine supper, and after a social time I was sent to a good bed. After I retired I felt very much ashamed of myself for the ugly feeling I had harbored and repented of my sins. It never pays to allow one’s bad feelings to get the better of their good feelings, for they always pay a big price for the victory. My official board was made up of John O’Kelley, Stewart Ellison, Norfleet Dunson, Seth Nowell, and Henry Hunter. They were a very fine set of men.

We went to work in earnest, bought a lot and paid off a great many debts. There were over 230 accessions to the church, of whom I baptized about 150 by immersion. I received a salary of $1000.00 which was very large at that time in our Connection. They gave me $75.00 that I might bring my wife and daughter from Algiers, La. The Colored people at this place were very successful in business and of good reputation and character. The White people, that is those especially interested in us, were very kind indeed. A Mrs. Dorr, (white) was principal of the school for Colored children. She did a great deal for the uplifting of the Race. Mr. Tupper, (white) was the president of Shaw University, a Baptist school of the Colored people. My daughter, Ada, taught rhetoric, in the Shaw University.

I concluded my work at this place and was able to carry to the Conference fine reports. This was largely due to the fact that the church was very spiritual. It was on the Lord’s side on all those questions which affect the religion of a community. Sometimes a minister is looked upon as the cause of the failures of a church, in its work, as a rule he is blamed, but this is a mistake. The general cause is to be found in the church. A good church with a poor pastor will succeed, but a bad church with a good pastor is liable to fail. Christ could do no mighty works in a certain place because of their unbelief. There are many good preachers who are unable to do good work because of the unbelief of the people and the consequence of this unbelief. It acts as a kind of paralysis, and indeed it is, a paralysis of the church.

I left this church for the station of Newberne, N. C. This was my birthplace. I was really glad to get back to the place where I first saw the light. I had been absent for twenty years. I saw that great changes had taken place during this time. There were no slave gangs, no whipping posts, no slave pen, no auction block. One of the first things that I did was to go to see a tree opposite the house of Bob Walker, in an old field, the spot where Tom Lewis had been whipped nearly to death for attacking a White man. After they had nearly killed him they took him down to the boat and put him on it and told him that he was never to put the prints of his feet on that part of the country again.

I was received very cordially by the church members. Many of them I remembered as my friends twenty years ago and longer. I had charge of Rue’s Chapel. My first year was a very successful one. I was returned again the second year.

Newberne has quite a history. It is situated on the banks of two rivers, the Neuse and Trent rivers. The elm trees are magnificent. Here lived the Stevenses, Jenkinses, Bryans, Webbs, and others, all old slave owners. They were of course deeply interested in the traffic and did all in their power to keep the regime from passing away. There was a Colored man at this place that owned slaves also, a Mr. J. S. Stanley. Newberne was a great turpentine center. There were turpentine distilleries here and about here. But great changes had taken place. The magnificent dwelling house of the Stevens was now occupied by a Colored man and run as a hotel. A Mr. George H. White was the superintendent of the public schools, (Colored) at this place and had also a law office. He afterwards became solicitor of state and a member of the U. S. Congress. He is now the president of a Savings Bank, on Lombard Street, Philadelphia, Penna. Mr. Sylvester Mackey and Judge Mumford were merchants. Presiding Elder, Edward Hill, of the Zion A. M. E. Church, was a wealthy planter. Mrs. Edward R. Richardson was a clerk in the Post Office. Mr. John Willis was a deputy sheriff. These and other men and women had made good their opportunities. They had not only welcomed the change from slavery but they had taken their places as freedmen among the citizens of this country and had demonstrated that they had in them that out of which the best citizens are made. I forgot to mention that the Rev. J. C. Price, D. D., former president of Livingston College, Salisbury, N. C., was born at this town. Dr. Price was one of the most distinguished orators, educators and scholars of the country regardless of color.

After my second year at this place, I attended the General Conference of the A. M. E. Church which met in St. Louis, Mo. I took my wife and baby and we went up on boat. My daughter Ada returned to Shaw University, Raleigh, N. C. where she was an instructor. At St. Louis, I met a great many ministers whom I knew and many more with whom I got well acquainted. I was quite indisposed while there, but was able to attend the sessions of the Conference. It was at this Conference that Elder R. H. Cain, D. D., made his defense against the charge of maladministration in office. And I am sure that it was his noble defense that brought about his election to the office of Bishopric. While in St. Louis, I visited some of the places of interest. I called upon Mr. J. Milton Turner, editor of the Freeman’s Journal who afterward represented the U. S. as minister to Hayti.

I visited a large Catholic (Roman) school. This was my first visit to a Roman Catholic institution of any kind. I was deeply impressed with the services, with the use of crucifixes, and the place that images held in their service. It was very strange to me. I could not understand how their minds and hearts could be fixed on God while at the same time they were giving so much time to these genuflections, rituals, and ceremonies. I remembered the second commandment. I saw that this commandment was being broken. For there were the images and likenesses of things in Heaven and on the earth, if not under earth. And yet at the same time these people seemed to be in earnest, they did what they had before them with a devotion that attracted. But it was all wrong because the Word of God in one of the Ten Commandments condemned it. The Roman Catholic Church with all its pomp, pride and wealth, is wrong in its fundamental principals and is therefore guilty of idolatry--they are not worshipping God only, they are worshipping saints and other divinities.

On Thursday, May 20, 1880, Revs. H. M. Turner, R. H. Cain, W. F. Dickerson were elected bishops of the A. M. E. Church. Bishops Payne, Wayman, Campbell, Shorter, Ward and Brown, together with the required number of elders, officiated. I left St. Louis and on my way home, stopped over in Little Rock, Ark., spending Sunday there. It was my pleasure to preach in Bethel Church on Sunday afternoon, for the Rev. Dr. J. T. Jennifer, the pastor of the church. I enjoyed meeting my many old friends. I was soon back at my work in Newberne, N. C., and remained there until the end of the year. Quite a number of members united with the church and debts were paid off. My work at this place was reasonably successful.

I attended the Conference that met in Raleigh, N. C. On account of my mother’s health I requested a transfer from this section to the North, and at this Conference I was transferred to the Conference of New Jersey. I received appointment to the station of Morristown, N. J. I arrived at Morristown with my daughter, Ada. It was midnight and very cold. I was somewhat discouraged. My daughter said to me, father, it is very cold and the outlook is a gloomy one, but I am here to stay with you and help all that I can. (Poor child, long since she passed away to that country where the inhabitants are free from the tribulations of this world.) I was reminded of a couplet in one of the old hymns,

“Thy saints in all this glorious war Shall conquer though they die.”

[Illustration: BISHOP JOHN M. BROWN, D. D., D. C. L.

Who ordained me as an Elder.]

I was sent to the Morristown station to fill out the unexpired term of the Rev. Mr. Smith deceased. We spent the night at the parsonage, then Mr. Henry Ader, a prominent contractor and steward in the church, came to see us and took us to his house until the parsonage was put in shape for us. We were most pleasantly entertained by him. While in this field of labor I sought out a secret spot where I might meet with God and talk over with Him all the work that I was entering upon in this field. I realized that such an arrangement with God was best and one that every Christian who is doing business for the King, should have. So I regularly kept my engagements with God in this place. I put before Him all my plans and went over them, seeking His wisdom and help. It is wonderful how He brings to our assistance His strength and grace when we honor Him as we should in this way. The Saviour Himself taught that we should have our closet, that is, a secret place, where we talk with God about everything that interests us. That we should not do as the Pharisees and Scribes, who loved to talk with God on the street corners and public places that they might be seen of men. “When thou prayest enter into thy closet and thy Father who seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.”

Mr. Henry Ader, Lansing Furman, George Yates, Nicholas Miller, Henry Johnson, Robert Gale, Preston Garland, together with their wives, were the active members in this church and they were indeed a noble band of workers. There was harmony in the church between the members and a zeal marked with wisdom in their work. I was soon able to have my wife and children come on from Little Rock, Ark. This getting together again was a happy reunion of my home. I found the Y. M. C. A. in this place to be a noble band of workers and very much interested in the colored people. Such influences as this are very inspiring to my people. I met and had the pleasant acquaintance while here of the pastor of the Presbyterian Church, the Rev. Dr. Erdman (white). I found him to be a noble Christian man and very deeply interested in the uplifting of our people. He not only used his influence but contributed of his means for our welfare. I had the pleasure of preaching for him in his own pulpit.

I might mention also a Dr. Owen, a physician (white), who did a great deal for our people and cause. He assisted us in paying off the mortgage on our Church and in getting the Church out of debt. In all these things I was able to see the gleams of the light of God’s love shining down upon us every day. For we must remember that the love and the friendship of our white friends are but the sunshine of God’s love falling upon us to bless us and to teach us that God has His own chosen ones in this world who are living on the table land of Christian thought and activity, far above the swamps of prejudice and racial animosity. We, too, should daily seek to live on these same highlands of God’s love and peace.

[Illustration: REV. J. W. COOPER,

Treasurer of the New Jersey Conference.]

The Conference met at Princeton, N. J. I was received into the membership of this Conference and entered into the active duties thereof on committees on which I was assigned. I found the brethren very cordial in their welcome and pleasant as co-laborers in the Lord’s work. I met here for the first time, Elders J. W. Cooper, J. H. Bean, George A. Mills, J. H. Morgan, R. Faucett, J. T. Diggs, Winston Taylor, J. R. V. Pierce, Wilson Patterson, S. B. Williams and others. I was assigned to Morristown and was much pleased with the appointment. We had a very pleasant year as well as profitable. The Conference the following year was entertained by my Church. This meeting of the Conference was a very pleasant and profitable one. The reports showed that in every way the denomination in this part of the vineyard was doing its work reasonably well. The Conference had the pleasure while here of visiting Drew Seminary. Some of our Bishops and leaders made addresses, which were kindly received judging from the responses on the part of the Faculty of this noble institution. This is a theological school of the M. E. Church. After the adjournment of the Conference I slipped away for a much needed rest, not letting my congregation or even my wife know where I was going. I went to New York City for a few days. Sometimes it is necessary for a man to get away from every work that he may recuperate himself.

About this time I attended the funeral of my cousin, John Harris, living on Lombard street, Philadelphia. While here I met Bishops Wayman and Brown; Financial Secretary, B. W. Arnett, (since made Bishop, but now deceased), and Judge Allen (colored), of South Carolina. I visited the Philadelphia Conference which met at West Chester, Pa. This was a very delightful meeting of Conference.