Early that fateful morning, Mayor Mayo, Judge Meredith and Judge Lyons went out to meet the incoming foe and deliver up the keys of the city. Their coach of state was a dilapidated equipage, the horses being but raw-boned shadows of better days when there were corn and oats in the land. They carried a piece of wallpaper, on the unflowered side of which articles of surrender were inscribed in dignified terms setting forth that "it is proper to formally surrender the City of Richmond, hitherto Capital of the Confederate States of America." Had the words been engraved on satin in letters of gold, Judge Lyons (who had once represented the United States at the Court of St. James) could not have performed the honours of introduction between the municipal party and the Federal officers with statelier grace, nor could the latter have received the instrument of submission with profounder courtesy. "We went out not knowing what we would encounter," Mayor Mayo reported, "and we met a group of Chesterfields." Major Atherton H. Stevens, of General Weitzel's staff, was the immediate recipient of the wallpaper document. General Weitzel and his associates were merciful to the stricken city; they aided her people in extinguishing the flames; restored order and gave protection. Guards were posted wherever needed, with instructions to repress lawlessness, and they did it. To this day, Richmond people rise up in the gates and praise that Army of the Occupation as Columbia's people can never praise General Sherman's. Good effect on popular sentiment was immediate. Among many similar incidents of the times is this, as related by a prominent physician: "When I returned from my rounds at Chimborazo I found a Yankee soldier sitting on my stoop with my little boy, Walter, playing with the tassels and buttons on his uniform. He arose and saluted courteously, and told me he was there to guard my property. 'I am under orders,' he said, 'to comply with any wish you may express.'"