The Sunday found him, whether at home or in camp, ready to proclaim the gospel with its message of mercy and comfort to his fellow men, while he was ever watchful at other times to improve every opportunity to promote the spiritual welfare of citizens and soldiers. He was held, therefore, in the highest esteem by officers and men, confided in by all, and regarded with enthusiastic love by the rank and file. No one, consequently, save his parishioner, Governor Livingston, was more feared and hated by the Tories and the British. Gladly would they have kidnapped him if they could. At the fall ejection of 1780 he was chosen by his fellow-citizens a member of the State Council. He continued in the discharge of his various duties to which he was called until the autumn of 1781. The last record made of him by the Presbytery was at their meeting, May 7, 1782. It is in these words: “The Rev. James Caldwell departed this life, falling by the hands of a cruel murderer on the twenty-fourth day of Nov., 1781.” The circumstances attending this mournful event were very fully announced in the public prints at the time. Rivington of New York, in his _Gazette_ (a Tory journal of that time), said: “The Rev. Caldwell was shot dead without any provocation at the Point (now Elizabethport) by a native of Ireland named Morgan.” Note the sting this allegation placed to an Irish name. The _New Jersey Journal_ and the _New Jersey Gazette_ devoted much space to the murder at the time, but they never mentioned the murderer’s name nor claimed him to have been Irish. These are the only accounts written and published at the time. As that of the _New Jersey Gazette_ is the most particular and was written after sufficient time had been allowed to obtain by means of the coroner’s inquest, and from other sources, the exact state of the case, it is apparently the most to be relied upon. It was generally affirmed at the time that the murderer, as intimated in the _New Jersey Journal_, was bribed by the British enemy to do the dreadful deed. And it is not strange that it should have been believed, as it was known that the British had offered a reward for the apprehension or assassination of Governor Livingston, and as no other reason could be assigned for the murder. The body of Rev. Mr. Caldwell was carried to the public house at the Point, now Red Jacket Hotel. A homely ambulance was obtained and the body was slowly brought to town. A crowd of people, greatly excited, gathered by the way. The mournful cortege, tradition says, passed through Water street, now Elizabeth avenue, to Broad street; then to Jersey street; and then to the residence of Mrs. Noll. The day following, when the people gathered for public worship, the place where they met might well have been named “Bochim, the Weeping Place.” The people were crushed under the sad calamity.