Jackson County, Georgia - Chapter 3 (3 of 5 so headed), 1914

William T. Brantly carried his bride to Jefferson on the third day after their marriage. They went on an ox cart drawn by two huge oxen called Buck and Ball, and carried with them such household property as the LeCain's could afford to give them. They lived in a small house near the white oak spring, a spot which has witnessed many curious things. Mr. Brantly was a school teacher, and also hunter and farmer. Mrs. Brantly followed her home life, picked seed out of cotton with her fingers, carded, spun and wove the lint, and of the cloth she cut and made her own and her husband's clothes. There is good evidence that they all had the appearance of being tailor made. To show her appreciation of Anaxicorn 's curious wedding gift, she made moccasins of deer skin and ornamented them with pretty designs in needle work ; all for her husband, and he was proud to wear them on public occasions.

Being an educated man, Mr. Brantly finally sought a field more favorable to his growing reputation, and about 1820, moved to Richmond County, where, for want of further information, I leave him. This was a distinct loss to the county. He, however, had a cousin of the same name, Rev. W. T. Brantly, who in the early fifties was a professor in Franklin College, and at the same time pastor of Cabin Creek Church. Being called to a pastorate in Philadelphia, he died there a few years later.

As the use of oxen is not so common as in old times, it may be interesting to the young reader to know something more of them. A yoke of oxen was then called *'owsen," as used in Scotland and the North of England to this time. They were almost exclusively used as draft animals. Horses only drew the plow - mules were unknown. The oxen which carried Mr. Brantly and his bride to their new home were unusually large. The spread of their horns was so great that they knocked against each other at almost every step so loudly that one on the road knew that the

LeCain oxen were coining before they were seen. In after years William Nash, one of the most famous fox-hunters in the country, gave a cow and calf for one of these horns, and Ras Stonum, his brother-in-law, gave a Ledford rifle and eleven ducks for its mate. These gentlemen were of first-class families, and great uncles of Hon. T. J. Shackelford of Athens.

For reasons that may hereafter appear, I have ever had a desire to know just what was the fate of the house in which Brantly lived at White Oak Spring ; but have only learned that it was torn down and moved away ; where, I do not know. It was standing in 1842, the year in which James Swetman was hanged for the murder of Tom White. On that day I was standing on the doorsill, thinking, in boyish fashion, of all I had ever heard of Mr. and Mrs. Brantly; and, while trying to compare their absence with what must have been their presence, the lines of a poem, which I had recently been trying to learn came into my mind and I repeated them aloud :

While repeating the last line, with all the sadness I could command, I heard a little old dried-up-looking man say, "That boy is distracted and ought to be put in the calaboose. ' ' I did not know just what a calaboose was, but thinking it something bad, I and my companion, Newton Barron, a great, loose-jointed boy, left for home without further warning.

As we passed near the jail, which stood where Dr. Walter Smith's oifice now is, we noticed that the door was open, and the great, ponderous shutter swaying back and forth in the wind. Finding that the little old man was not following us, we cautiously entered the gloomy house, and no one else being in there we roamed at will. The first thing noticed was a tin plate placed on a joist overhead. I took it down and found that it contained two rashers of fried bacon, and three dark biscuits. From one biscuit a single bite had been taken, leaving the imprint of four teeth, a gap being between the first and third, showing that one front tooth was missing. The poor fellow who had just been hung had doubtless taken only one bite for his breakfast that morning, and the sign left by his teeth is now as plainly seen in memory as it was then seen with my eyes. While I was pondering over this silent reminder of a sad fate and Newt Barron was peeping into the gloomy dungeon below, the door shutter closed with a loud bang, and, as we thought, the little old man had us at last. We both jumped, Newt came near falling into the dungeon, the biscuits went rolling over the floor, and we rushed for the door. The shutter readily yielded ; the wind had closed it, and seeing nothing of our supposed enemy, we hastened away.

Gendelph LeCain was of French descent, belonged to an aristocratic family, and had a liberal education. His character for truth and fair dealing was never called in question, which, together with his immense physical powers, gave him a hearty welcome into a new country where hardy manhood was required. Coming from Albemarle County, Va., the family claimed much friendship for Thomas Jefferson, the sage of Monticello ; and Mr. LeCain insisted on doing things much like Mr. Jefferson did. For instance, he wore red "breeches," and hitched his horse to a short peg driven in the ground for the purpose, as Mr. Jefferson is said to have done, even in front of the capitol at Washington. The entire family was greatly devoted to each other, and when Mr. and Mrs. Brantly moved away Mr. and Mrs. LeCain went with them. Here was another great loss to the county, and the places which once knew them so well knew them no more.

William Dunson, having shown himself to be a successful farmer and a substantial citizen, moved to Troup County, Georgia, in the early thirties, where he became a large planter. He returned only one time, and wearing an elegant suit of black broadcloth which cost him $14 per yard, he made a fine appearance. Though proud, he was not haughty, and those who lived near him said he was

It is curious to know that Linton Dunson, a great-grandson of William Dunson, married Miss Sallie Rogers, a great granddaughter of Rev. James Rogers, and they, too, live here.

Thus the race still continues, but all the old folks are gone. Life is a continual stream ever freighted with passengers bound for eternity! How vast the sweep of its dismal tide from Abel, the first passenger, to the last who "shall take his chamber in the silent halls of death,"

George Wilson, a near neighbor and close friend of William Dunson, was a native of Dublin, Ireland, where he was educated. He came from Iredell County, N. C, to this part of the country in 1784, only a few months after the first settlement at Tumbling Shoals. He was a master workman at almost any trade known to the times, and only a few years ago a chimney which he built was torn down by an unappreciative hand. I have heard it said that the men who located Jefferson were drunk ; but *George Wilson, James Pittman and Josiah Easley, the committee who located the place, did not drink at all, were never drunk in their lives. I prophesy that within the next decade Jefferson will become one of the most beautiful towns in the country. The contour of the land and the ready water supply are eminently favorable to this view. A reasonable sum of money at the disposal of a competent engineer is all that is needed. This little digression is not at all in the way, because it gives the truth.

George Wilson was also largely instrumental in the organization of Sandy Creek Presbyterian church, and was one of its first Ruling Elders. W. T. Brantly and all the LeCain family were members of that church. Being elected a delegate to the convention called to revise the constitution of the state, he at once became a leader, and finally wrote and signed the revision made.

A giant himself, he was greatly interested in the Dunson logrolling, and dearly loved to see "the boys," as he called them, put forth their strength. He clapped his hands and shouted when he saw that Idalone LeCain's last step with her heavy burden was just as firm and steady as her first one had been, and that she was still uneonquered, even by so powerful a man as his Brother Brantly.

The big poplar log on the flat rock was also of much interest to Mr. Wilson, and so was Franklin College, at Athens, then struggling under great difficulties, into existence. By Mr. Dunson's ready permission, he had the log sawed into lumber with what was called a rip-saw. A pit was dug near the rock, the log was rolled over it, one man stood in the pit, two or more upon a platform above, and pulled and pushed a long saw, having horizontal handles, up and down until a line was sawed. This was a slow and laborious process ; and consequently, then, when timber was in the way, it was a much more difficult matter to get sawed lumber than it is now when there is so little timber to be found.

Being a college man himself, George Wilson wanted to do something for Franklin College, not in a financial way, but as a memorial of it. Accordingly, he sent three cart-loads of his poplar lumber to Athens, and it became some part of a house which was then being built on the college campus. As far back as the fifties, I made many efforts to trace this lumber further, but was unable to find any part of it. He also sent a fourth cartload to Jefferson, and Mr. Brantly made a loft in his house with it. I stood under it when I made my "distracted" recitation from Scott, and hence my desire to know what became of the house.

In old age, when the machinery was run down, and not of disease, George Wilson died, and was buried in sight of the flat rock on which he stood and shouted for very gladness when Idalone LeCain achieved her victory.

Five years after his burial an old white-haired man appeared in the community and said that he wanted to see George Wilson, When told that he was dead he sat down and cried bitterly. He at last became calm, and by request was conducted to the grave. There his tears again began to flow and nothing could induce him to leave the grave. He remained there until next morning, when George Wilson, Jr., went to look after him. Still refusing to leave, George carried him in his arms to his house, where he was induced to eat a little. He soon returned to the grave, and sitting flat upon the ground, remained there all day, and the next morning was found dead on the spot where he had last been seen in a sitting posture. And he, too, lies buried there in an unknown grave.

Many efforts were made to get the old man to talk ; but he paid no attention whatever to any question asked after the first one was answered. His long white hair reached to his shoulders, and when the wind was blowing, it waived around his head in such ghostly fashion that, when seen at a graveyard in the night, the bravest either stopped to think, or resolved to increase speed, generally the latter. Two such incidents happened during the stranger's stay at George AVilson's grave, and some people lived and died in the full belief that the white-haired old man was a very ghost. This, or something like this, is about the explanation of all ghost stories.

Moses Vincent, son-in-law of George Wilson, was a dapper little man, and almost as irritable as a hornet. He was, however, one of the best of workers ; and for Moses Vincent to say he was going to do anything was almost equivalent to saying it was done. When at any kind of work he thrashed away like men do when killing snakes. Though not one of the poplar log team, he was present as busy as, and louder than, the biggest man there. He is introduced here because he hauled his father-in-law's poplar lumber to Athens. He carried it on an ox cart whose wheels were made of solid blocks of timber cut from a huge blackgum tree. They were made with solid hubs on them and consequently did not wabble much. The rims of the wheels were protected by white oak tires, which had to be frequently renewed. To prevent them from creaking on their axles, pine leaves were used instead of common pine tar. Such a cart drawn by big oxen over the campus of the State University to-day, would create so great a sensation that everybody would be wanting to ride.

cut in one of these swamps by George Wilson, Sr., in 1785. Though not the largest cut, it holds about eight bushels, is three feet high, and the wood is not more than an inch thick at any place, all hollowed out by the hand of nature.

Mrs. Polly Vincent, wife of Moses, had spun and woven enough cloth to make her two or three counterpanes to spread over her well-filled feather beds on Sundays. They were striped both ways, and were called checkered counterpanes. The stripes were blue, white and copperas, and about three inches wide. After making her counterpanes, Polly found that she had nearly two yards left. Moses wanted a pair of breeches made of this remnant ; and though she demurred, he insisted, and the breeches were made.

About that time, the famous Lorenzo Dow and his wife, Peggy, were making a tour through this part of the country. One Saturday they had an appointment to preach at Black's Creek church, where Moses was a member in good standing. Wanting, as he said, "to hear a woman preach before he died," he was anxious to attend and wear his new breeches. The time came, and Moses pulled himself into his pants. They were so tight that he could not stoop down and Polly had to tie his shoes. He hesitated to wear them ; but she laughed at him so heartily that he got mad, and declared he would go "breeches or no breeches." So, by going to a stump, he "wiggled" on his horse, and away he went; but he could not bend his legs enough to keep his feet in the stirrups. Near the church, he met a traveling stranger, who exclaimed :

Moses waited until the stranger was out of sight, and he was so mad that he turned and went back home. He afterwards burned his "big striped breeches," because, as he said, "the d d things kept him from hearing a woman preach."

Mr. Vincent was a strictly honest and successful farmer. He finally moved to Habersham County, where he died somewhere in the early forties. Some of his relatives still live here.