Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 29.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[32] of war they had dared for principle and for right, where he displayed to the world such high ability and devotion, through four years of the greatest conflict of the ages; from which he departed unblemished, erect, dignified, defiant, when the life of his government was crushed out under the weight of numbers; 'tis in these hundred volumes of records of that gigantic interstate war, given to the world by the foe, where posterity will marvel to find how much he had to contend with in numbers and equipment of the foe, and how much he had to create to make possible the glorious and protracted campaigns of his vastly disproportionate armies; 'tis in that photograph of him, pale, emaciated, yet unbending, as he emerged the martyr of his people and his cause from the dungeon of Fortress Monroe, and the manacles and fetters of a Miles; 'tis in that release, wrung from his foes after ineffectual search in his official and private acts as President of his government, for aught that could be construed into crime against the laws and the constitution under which he had been born, educated, and had served; 'tis here, in his thousand personal articles, effects, manuscripts, papers, pictures, books, letters, cherished family trinkets and mementos, and touching tokens from friends and his people, that lay before you his home life, .its affections, its tastes, its purposes, as, from a prison door, in simple grandeur, an uncrowned monarch of southern hearts, he pursued the even tenor of his way, until that fateful day in December, 1889, when, in this city, his dauntless soul took flight, to meet the Great Judge of all rulers and of all men; 'tis in these numerous sets of resolutions of deepest sorrow, from individuals, organizations, communities and States, that crowd these walls, attesting the majestic mourning of the South, when her great leader came to pass away. Not only in all that establishes his greatness as a man, as a statesman, as a leader, as a patriot, is he here present, but he is here in his gentlest, dearest, tenderest memories and affections. These touching mementos of Miss Winnie, these family pictures of Mrs. Hayes, these articles recalling his sons, early lost, all have shreds of his heart still clinging to them; and well we know how much his venerable relict's heart is also in this sanctuary for has she not written: But my heart is in the New Orleans Memorial Hall. There, I feel I owe most affectionate gratitude, and to this place I sent my dearest relics.

Search the Southland over, and no spot is hallowed by his spiritual presence so much as this memorial hall; from no spot could rise more gratefully to his great spirit, the spoken incense of his people's love and praise, on days to follow perpetually this inaugral one, an annual