tle the day before, February 10. He was husband to a favorite niece of Dr. Palmer. When the Doctor looked down from the pulpit to a seat nearby, his eyes met the wistful brown eyes of the young wife, who would for an hour listen to what he as God's minister would say, and thenceforth mourn the husband of her youth. Preaching was very hard for him that day in the presence of that young widow unconscious of the blow that had fallen upon her.

A week later Columbia was evacuated, and he in flight. A little later the city was in ashes, and with it all his "private papers, books, and household effects."

Not far from the middle of March three men started from Yorkville, S. C., tramping in the direction of Columbia. They were Mr. Asher D. Cohen, now of Charleston, S. C., Mr. Jas. Wood Davidson, now of Washington, D. C., and Dr. B. M. Palmer. They had simply fallen in together and for a time traveled together. Mr. Cohen tells the story substantially as follows:

Dr. Palmer had some cornbread on which to subsist and I had some fine time-cured Madeira wine. We followed the line of the torn-up railway. Having found an old hand-car we tried to work it and thus increase our rate of travel, but soon gave it up as we lacked the muscle to make that mode of travel a success. The first night we slept on the railway track, making a pillow of one of the rails. The next day we continued our travel, subsisting on the Doctor's cornbread and a little wine. The second night we slept in the same way. The next day we again resumed our journey. Mr. Davidson, I think, left us at Chester. As the night of the third day approached, it began to rain, and I proposed that we should shelter in the piazza of a poor farmhouse. Kilpatrick's men had gone through the neighborhood and our own men also. The people had been well scared. The little home was modest and

in poor condition. The little piazza looked out north. It required no little persuasion to get Dr. Palmer to enter the piazza. As I peeped through a crevice in the door to the house, I saw a square room with a staircase on the southern side, leading to the floor above. On the eastern side, in the center, was a large hearth and an old-fashioned fireplace, with a good fire burning in it. I saw an old lady, a countrywoman, in this room. It was getting very disagreeable in the piazza. I knocked and tried to get a response from within. Failing in

this, I urged the Doctor that we should enter the room and sit by the fire. He finally consented. As we entered the room, the old lady retreated up the stairs until she reached the top, where she sat down. We deposited our traps, each taking a seat on either side of the fire. It was very evident that the old lady was alarmed. She had suffered much from passers-by shortly before, as we afterwards learned. Our conversation was naturally serious and not of a character to disturb her. We understood the situation well, that is to say, that she looked upon us as suspicious characters. We probably suited our remarks to removing her fears, and letting her know the nature of her visitors. The conversation told. Step by step, with increasing confidence, she descended the stairs. The Doctor kept his eyes on her and she hers on him. At last she was on the same floor with us. The Doctor dropped on his knees and said, "Let us join in evening prayers." I knelt and the old lady fell upon her knees; and then the Doctor, inspired by the situation, offered up a most touching and appropriate prayer, in which he dwelt upon the misfortunes of the war and the trials of the women who were left at home, and their privations. It is needless to say that we were all bathed with tears. It was the most appropriate and eloquent prayer that I ever listened to. The Doctor himself had been touched by the situation; and from the depths of his heart he had endeavored to bring comfort to this poor woman. Her sons were away, in the army. With the rain outside, and the solemn quiet inside, with the tenderness and eloquence of the Doctor, it was a remarkable occasion; and was impressed indelibly upon my mem

ory.

The old lady's fears were dissipated; her heart was softened into kindness. She gave us a comfortable bed to sleep in, and something to eat that was superb in comparison with what we had. She found a stray chicken for our morning's breakfast. We left her with a parting blessing. She sent us on our way with good wishes. We continued our journey down the track toward Columbia till we reached Winnsboro, where the Doctor stopped over Sunday to preach. When we parted he said, "God bless you and good-bye, Mr. Cohen."

When Dr. Palmer, at the earnest solicitation of friends, fled from Columbia, he left his family occupying a house on Laurel Street, opposite the Lecture Room of the First Presbyterian Church, and having with them Mr. Isaac Hutson, a

brother-in-law, and his family. On returning to the city, he learned that, after several days of previous shelling the town, the Yankees had entered it Friday, February 17, 1865; that marauding parties and drunken soldiers were soon scattered over the entire city; that Mrs. Palmer requested and soon obtained a guard for her home who endeavored to protect the family from insults and spoliation; that at 6 o'clock in the evening a rocket was sent up, which proved the signal for firing the city; that fire soon started in all directions and that a great portion of the inhabitants, homeless and without protection, were wandering about the streets, exposed to all the unspeakable dangers of the terrible situation. He learned that, at 2 o'clock that night, the family were told to leave their dwelling, as a government factory nearby was to be blown up; that they went into the streets, each one carrying along bundles of clothing, bedding, valuables, anything that might be of use; that they made their way among burning buildings and trees to the house of Dr. Howe, on Blanding street; that in the meantime Mrs. Palmer had been deprived of a box of family silver, which was forcibly snatched from her grasp by a soldier; that Dr. Howe's house, having been several times fired, they left it and spent the remainder of the night in the streets, huddled together around a few bundles which they had been able to retain; that in the morning they returned to Dr. Howe's and had remained there; that, though the night of terrors was past, they did not undress to go to bed for five nights. He learned that, when the army left on Monday, they carried with them all the provisions that had not been destroyed by them; that the people were almost entirely without food. He learned that since the Yankees had left rations had been issued from the common stock which was gotten by putting together the supplies that the few fortunate members of the community were able to save; that Mr. Hutson, his invalid brother-in-law, had gone every day to the depot to obtain the scanty allowance doled out, so much for each member of the family.

13

Dr. Palmer, finding the condition of things so urgent, went with wagons into the country to obtain provisions for the starving ones. He again resumed his spiritual ministrations

13 Dr. John W. Caldwell, of New Orleans, has furnished us this account of those last days in Columbia.

also to the devastated church in Columbia; and continued there till the close of the war.

During these years, in addition to the services recounted already in this chapter, he had served his church as chairman of the committee to revise the hymn-book and as one of the most important members of the committee to revise the Book of Church Order.

CHAPTER XIII.

REBUILDING THE BROKEN WALLS.

(1865-1874.)

NEW ORLEANS, AND THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH AT THE CLOSE OF THE WAR.-THE FIRST SUNDAY IN HIS PULPIT AFTER HIS RETURN TO NEW ORLEANS.-HIS EFFORTS TO REBUILD HIS PEOPLE:BY PREACHING.-BY PASTORAL WORK.-BY PUTTING THE PEOPLE TO WORK.-SKETCH OF THE WORK, 1869-1870, AND LATER.-TEMPER TOWARD OTHER CHURCHES OF THE SAME COMMUNION IN NEW ORLEANS. PAROCHIAL SCHOOLS, THE SYLVESTER LARNED INSTITUTE.— DR. PALMER'S LABORS IN.-HIS AID IN THE RE-ADJUSTMENT OF THE CHURCH AT LARGE TO ITS NEW ENVIRONMENT IN 1865 AND AFTERWARDS. HIS OVERTURES TO THE ASSOCIATE REFORMED SYNOD OF THE SOUTH, AND TO THE CUMBERLAND PRESBYTERIANS IN THE ASSEMBLY OF 1866.-HIS SERVICES AGAINST FUSION IN THE ASSEMBLY OF 1870. -SPECIAL PREPARATION FOR THIS SERVICE, THROUGH STUDIES OF DEFECTIONS OF THE CHURCH, NORTH, CONTRIBUTED TO THE SOUTHWESTERN PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SUMMER BEFORE.-OTHER CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE SOUTHWESTERN PRESBYTERIAN.

W1

HEN the Civil War broke out, New Orleans was one of the greatest ports in the world, and "to all appearance the most prosperous commercial city in America." The year before the war began, the total commerce of the city amounted to $473,290,000. It was the most profitable sort of commerce, too. Consequently, the average wealth of the citizen had become very high. Her merchants, bankers and capitalists were men of great enterprise. Other enterprising cities were not ashamed, therefore, to borrow ideas from New Orleans. Causes were, indeed, at work, such as the choking of the mouths of the Mississippi with sand, the operation of the Erie Canal, and the building and successful operation of transmontane railways, which would have tended to diminish her trade and her prosperity in the course of time; but the war, within the limits of four short years, reduced this prosperous city to ruins, almost annihilated her commerce, occasioned the turning of a considerable part of her trade to other cities, destroyed no small part of it, so that it was necessary to rebuild from the very foundations. Nor were the circumstances under