Rome, Georgia - History (part 11 of 17)

"Finally, we hit upon the plan of building a big fire in the grate and setting in front of it, on a slant, a piece of glass, about three by four feet. The glass was soon hot and we opened up the packages and placed the separate bills on it. The space would take about the number of bills that were in each $500 package, and the heat of the glass and fire was sufficient to dry them out as rapidly as we could place them.

"The result was that in less than an hour, we had dry currency that we could use, and as far as I can remember, not a single dollar had to be sent to the treasury department. The year's business, as we have before

"Altogether, within a week's time, our business was running practically as smooth as before. Wasn't this a wonderful outcome for such conditions?"

TO ARMS, ROMANS! - There may be more modern speakers than our friend Mrs. Beulah S. Moseley, but few can serve up an introduction better. It fell to Mrs. Moseley's lot to introduce Judge Max Meyerhardt to the League of Women Voters, (Mrs. Annie Freeman Johnson, president) , and she said in effect the following:

"I well remember an introduction which Judge Meyerhardt gave to Judge Branham at a meeting of the women of the Order of Eastern Star. 'Ladies,' he said, *we welcome you to our city with open arms, which is with me merely a figure of speech, but with my young companion Judge Branham is a matter of action.'

"So I say to Judge Meyerhardt that the women voters welcome him in the same fashion. With me that is a figure of speech, but with our lovely

Anecdotes Of Major Dent

ANECDOTES OF MAJOR DENT. - Maj. Jno. H. Dent lived at Big Cedar Creek, Vann's Valley, two miles north of Cave Spring, and for quite a number of years contributed articles on farming and poultry to Northern agricultural journals and to Southern newspapers. Once upon a time, a Pennsylvania farmer, who had been reading the Major's wise rules for farming, visited Rome and took a hack down to Vann's Valley. The hackman stopped and announced that Maj. Dent lived up the hill in the two-story brick house. The traveler expressed some doubt that the Major resided there (for nothing out of the ordinary was growing) , but he went to the door and knocked.

Walter D. Wellborn, formerly of New Orleans, now of Atlanta, and brother of M. B. Wellborn, relates how he visited his grandfather Dent many years ago as a boy. Young Walter wanted to go over and see Col. Benj. C. Yancey, a neighbor, and asked his grandfather if he didn't want to go too.

Pat Conway And The

PAT CONWAY AND THE "GOAT." - Patrick Conway, said to be residing in Texas, was a well-known and efficient tinner of Rome. In 1890 he contracted to repair the stove in the hall of Cherokee Lodge No. 66 in the Masonic Temple, and also to fix the roof so the weather would not beat down upon the assembled brethren. He was due to start the job one morning, but decided he could mend the stove at night and, thus save time. Climbing the long stairway with a repair kit, he opened the lodge room door, when out dashed a white object like a streak of greased lightning, upsetting the stove and sending clinkers and soot all over the floor. The stovepipe must have hit Pat, for he emerged with some fine smudges of soot. It was not known which got to Broad Street first - the biped or the quadruped - but neither hit the stairs many times coming down. Pat lost his hat and didn't stop until he had reached a corner light, there to "review" himself.

It is said Pat never went back for his tools, nor did he mount the roof to complete his undertaking. Asked why by a committee from the Lodge, he said, "Faith, I never bargained for to be chased out by the bloody goat! And now, begorra, he will nivver be caught again, and you will be foriver blamin' me!"

dens in the neighboring county of Bartow. On a ridge about a mile north of Silver Creek Station, Southern railway, near Lindale, is a residence built like they used to build them: cement walls two feet thick, rooms approximately 50 feet square, including reception and ball rooms, and a barn in keeping with the rest. It was the property of Elmer E. Kirkland, of Schenectady, N. Y. Rumor had it that the mansion and the beautiful and extensive grounds would be converted into a country club, but the place was recently acquired by Will Collins, developer of Collinwood Park, East Rome's residence subdivision, and will probably be used for manufacturing purposes.

GEMS FROM "UNCLE STEVE." - Steve Eberhart, the slavery time darkey whose gyrations ai-ound Confederate veterans' reunions with live chickens under his arm always stir up the ebullitions of guilty bystanders and others, yesterday submitted to an interview as he filled a place in the picket line at their meeting at the Carnegie Library.

"Well, Steve, do you suppose your opsonic index would coagulate should the Republican administration at Washington send down here and try to get you to accept an office?"

"Lordy, boss, I's skeered enuf o' de varmints we have right here around Rome. And as fer dem cannibalists, you sholy don't ketch dis old nigger furnishin' de bones for none o' dat missionary stew. Naw, sir, I's bleeged to decline with profound deliberation. Dem 'publicans jes' want de nigger's vote. Steve Eberhart's a lily white Democrat, Steve is!" - Aug. 7, 1921.

Steve Eberhart, the ancient Senegambian who dresses up in flags and feathers, mostly just before Confederate reunion time, has written a card in which he pours out his libations of joy and gratitude to the "white folks" for their generosity in giving him enough money to attend the state meeting at Albany.

Steve hopes the fountain of satisfaction may overflow for his friends and the wax tapers burn brightly on high, while he stews in the sacred unction here below. - May 16, 1921.

"I want to thank the good white people of Rome for sending me to Texas to the Old Soldiers' Reunion. I am thankful. I shall ever remain in my place, and be obedient to all the white people. I pray that the angels may guard the homes of all Rome, and the light of God shine upon them. I will now give you a rest until the reunion next year, if the Lord lets me live to see it. Your humble servant, Steve Eberhart." - 1920. * * *

ONE WEEK A ROMAN. - Harry A. Etheridge, Atlanta lawyer, once said goodbye to Rome after a brief stay. His folks were living on the old Sequoyah "ranch" at Alpine, Chattooga County, when he finished his studies at the University of Virginia. He came home; no opportunity, and wise heads advised him to seek his fortune in Rome. That was about 1891. He became connected with the law office of Capt. Christopher Rowell and

Mr. Etheridge's uncle, Wm. J. Northen, was governor at the time. He mentioned the connection to Capt. Rowell, who said, "That's fortunate; I should like to fill a judgeship vacancy. You go to Atlanta and see what a high recommendation you can give me."

The young lawyer agreed; went to see his uncle at the capitol in Atlanta, and presented Capt. Rowell's attainments with the eloquence of a commencement orator. He also shook hands with some Atlanta lawyer friends. The result was that Capt. Rowell did not land the judgeship, but Harry Etheridge landed in Atlanta, and has been there ever since.

young lawyer, a highly eligible bachelor named Eli S. Shorter, Jr., son of the war-time Governor of Alabama, and nephew of Col. Alfred Shorter, came to Rome perhaps 50 years ago from Eufaula, Ala., to practise his profession. He was a tall, handsome, dashing fellow - a social lion as well as a clever barrister - and he became immensely popular. His acquaintance was wide geographically and many v/ere the invitations which the postman brought to him from out of town, as well as from around the corner.

One day he died of pneumonia, and thus were the hearts of his friends put to the test, nor did they waver. Three beautiful young women appeared in Rome from different points - Augusta, Macon, Athens; representatives of some of the state's leading families they were, nor were they of his kith and kin. All donned mourning as preparations were made to send him home; all softened their grief through their tears; and one, more ingenious than her sorrowing sisters, lifted the lid of the coffin and put something in. It was a lock of her hair.

A Discordant Note Among

A DISCORDANT NOTE AMONG THE METHODISTS. - Orthodoxy with religious sects was more studiously adhered to half a century ago than it is today. For instance, when the first Methodist Church was built at Sixth Avenue and East Second Street in 1850, the members generally gave vent to their religious fervor by shouting; some of them even became exhausted and rolled on the floor. Such

Little by little, however, a progressive spirit asserted itself, and artificial notes were held by a faction of the brethren and sisters to be not only desirable, but necessary to a wholesome development of the soul. The progressives were led by a woman - Mrs. Wm. A. Fort, formerly Eudocia Hargrove, daughter of Zachariah B. Hargrove, one of the founders of Rome; the conservatives were led by Daniel R. Mitchell, himself one of Rome's founders, who named Rome, and a donor of the very land on which the church stood, and a liberal subscriber to the building fund. Colonel Mitchell invariably carried a heavy hickory walking cane and was accompanied everywhere he went by a mongrel dog whose elongevity and benchleggedness would dub him in Germany a dachshund. For convenience in attending to his church duties, Col. Mitchell did not always sit with the family, but occupied the corner of a bench or pew in the extreme front of the edifice. Mrs. Fort sat dangerously close by, and on the occasion in question she had brought well wrapped in a shawl and unknown to Col. Mitchell a bulky object.

As the choir lifted up their voices, Mrs. Fort jumped to her feet and began playing vigorously on a melodeon, and singing "Hallelujah!" until the rafters rattled. Colonel Mitchell gave her a withering look, seized his walking stick and stalked out of the church, closely followed by his dog and a number of churchmen who shared his feelings. When the Forts and the Hargroves spoke to the Mitchell adherents again it was to announce (thank you!) that they had affiliated with the Presbyterian Church, and when the Underwoods (born musicians) spoke, it was to declare they had gone to the Episcopal.

Time and a better understanding heal all such rifts among Christian brethren. Colonel Mitchell passed away in 1876 in Florida, and eight years later the "shouting" brothers and the "musical" brothers who were left put their shoulders to the wheel for a brand new church in a different neighborhood, with one of the best pipe organs that could be procured.

A Group Of Picturesque Old Homes Of Rome

1 - "Terrace Hill." John H. Lumpkin (now Robt. L. Morris) home. 2 - "Oak Hill.'' home of Miss Martha Berry. 3-"Alhambra." DeSoto P^'^. bu.lt by Ph.hpW. Hemphill^ *- "Nemophila," the Hoyt home, where Frank L. Stanton brought his bride ^5 - A 5 Burney home. "^6 - "Arcadia," Daniel S. Printup home, in North Rome. 7 - "Woodlawn home of Dr A. C. Shamblin, built by Judge Jas. M. SpuUock, and once owned by Judge Max Meyerhardt.

Many had been led into the light about the old institution's sacred altars. There, too, had marriage vows been plighted, children consecrated by baptism to God; and from these dear portals loved ones had been borne, never to return. Is it any wonder that our hearts clung tenaciously to this old edifice?"

A Famous School Teacher

A FAMOUS SCHOOL TEACHER. - Rome and Cave Spring used to boast a school teacher whose reputation for whipping obstreperous youths spread far beyond the borders of the state. In the days before the war it was left for Col. Simpson Fouche to apply doses of "hickory oil" - a dozen sharp licks in the palm of the hand with a ruler - but when Palemon J. King came along he outdid Col. Fouche at his best.

Prof. King fought through the Civil War and made a fine soldier. He was brought up with straight-laced ideas about obedience and pure book learning, and was always prepared to back up his words with force if need be. His military school was the Confederate army, and his preparation was made at Hearn Academy at Cave Spring.

Plenty of Romans remember Prof. King - "P. J.," as many preferred to call him. He was a powerfully-built man of six feet and 200 pounds, a kindly man, but one who insisted on having his way with the pupils placed under his charge. His hair was thin, but long and white, and he wore a full beard. His coat was a Prince Albert cut, always black; his trousers were black, and his shirt was stiff bosomed and white; his collar standing and his tie usually a loose bow with long free ends; and he wore a sort of gaiter on his feet, with broad toe, and thick soles, and elastic for stretching the uppers over the foot, with straps to pull 'em on. Like many of the people of the time, he blacked his own boots. He carried a white cotton handkerchief in his right-hand hip pocket or hid away in his coat-tails, and on occasion he wore specs that magnified small print for his eyes of blue. He had no time for the frivolities of the day, but religiously read from the Bible each niorning some helpful passage to his young charges; and if he laughed it was usually after hours or on some jaunt when he could properly relax. His idea was to let them learn, and if they refused, then - take the "consequences."

the stern though just measures Prof. King pursued. One concerns Hal Wright, who later became a popular and leading member of the Rome bar. Hal was more or less of a wayward and good-for-nothing boy, as the pedagogue viewed him. While going to school to Prof. King at Cave Spring, Hal broke one of the rules, but before Prof. King could get to him with a hickory, he had run out of the building and made good his escape. Prof. King followed, but the young imp of Satan had too much start to be overhauled. From a safe distance Hal placed his thumb to his nose and wiggled his fingers, but he did not go back to school next day. He went far, far away - to Texas, some folks say. Prof. King did not forget that superlatively contemptuous gesture or the infraction of discipline.

In two years Hal decided to come home. His good mother, Mrs. Harriet Wright, herself a teacher who had had experience with mischievous boys, laid the law down to him. "If you return here, I'm going to put you in school again, so you won't be worrying the life out of me," she wrote. Hal was willing, only he was hoping deep in his heart that Prof. King had moved on. Prof. King hadn't.

"All right, Hal, just take that front row desk and I'll lend you a blue back speller until you can provide yourself with a book. Here is a slate, too."

Recess time came and Hal romped like a care-free kangaroo over the school greensward with his playmates, and splashed through the water cress as if nary a moccasin lay hidden there. Finally time came for school to let out for the day, and Hal started sidewise for the door.

Hal declined the invitation, for Prof. King had taken two giant strides to the blackboard, and had brought out from behind it with a savage swish a bundle of hickories with newspapers wrapped around the handles, and mean-looking and long. Hal grabbed his hat and jumped down the steps four at a time. Hal's legs had grown those two years, but so had the determination of Prof. King. The old war-horse ran so fast that his long coattails stood out straight behind and his whiskers parted perfectly in the middle and met again back of his neck. All the boys and all the gii'ls stood

Little Cedar Creek, three feet deep and fifteen feet wide, loomed ahead. "No time to hunt a foot-log:," reasoned Hal, as he plunged in and came out dripping on the other side.

"I've nearly got the young jackanapes!" exclaimed Prof. King as he followed Hal's lead and lost one of his gaiters in the creek bottom's sand.

Yes, gentle reader, Prof. King caught that boy; caught him under a weeping willow tree, but it wasn't a willow switch he tamed him with, and Hal wept copiously under the weeping willow.

Several years elapsed and Prof. King hired a hall in the Masonic Temple Annex at Rome, and set up his school. There was room for about 20 boys, and some of them were the three Rounsaville brothers, Barry and Louis Wright, Wilson Hardy, Lindley Mc- Clure, Hugh Parks, Fred Hanson, Hamilton Yancey, Jr., Eddie Peters, Andrew Mitchell, Victor Smith, Harry Morris, Waldo Davis and Oscar Todd. It was the good year 1895, and all was well until Rob Rounsaville dangled a cork spider with rubber legs over the face of a boy in front. The boy jumped out of his seat and Prof. King caught sight of Rob's wonderful insect.

Prof. King reached for a ruler this time, to crack Rob across the knuckles, when George Rounsaville let loose an ink bottle from the rear of the room. The cork flew out of the bottle, and everybody got a little ink, but Prof. King received most of it, as the bottle hit him on the right temple where his hair had receded. Roy Rounsaville was about to hurl an arithmetic but the old gentleman had disappeared down the long hall, yelling "Police!" as he went. The scholars took a recess; no use to hold school any more that day. As usual, the police were somewhere else, and it was ten or fifteen minutes before Prof. King could locate one, or swab most of the ink and blood from his face. By that time the Rounsaville boys had entirely disappeared.

"I know where to find 'em," said Joe Sharp to Bill Jones. Sure enough, George and Rob and Roy were hiding under some bales of hay at the Rounsaville warehouse. The policemen told them to come to police court, and there some kind of justice was meted out - it matters not just how much. George left to join a circus and Rome quieted down. School really broke up.

Not very long after this incident. Prof. King encountered another bit of bad luck, this time of a less deliberate character. He was getting his whiskers trimmed in a barber shop about where the Nixon Music House is located. A careless brick-mason working on the roof above let a brick fall through a sky-light and hit Prof. King on the head. Result: the barber lost the price of a perfectly good trim.

In the spring of 1898, while the Spanish-American war was on, the King School was opened over the Caldwell Printing Company's present location on Third Avenue. A large brass dinner bell rung out of the front window by Prof. King announced that recess was over. The hallway stairs were long and carried the human voice in a sonorous volume into the professor's sanctum and ears. This happened often. The boys emitted cat calls and yells until the old man's life was miserable. After perpetrating a war-whoop or a bleating "Baa-a-a!" they would disappear around the nearby corner. Prof. King's chin would appear at the window, his whiskers quivering. The boys would come to the class room, next day in all the robes of perfect innocence.

Across the street in "Poverty Hall" Rev. Hay Watson Smith, a Presbyterian minister, as well as a teacher, had started a select boys' school, and had taken some of the cream of the students away from Prof. King. One day the Smith School boys made use of Prof. King's hall ; likely as not they heaved some coal up the steps. Prof. King threw the dinner bell out the window at them, and was about to invade the Smith premises when Wilson Hardy and Barry Wright came across with an apology.

A week after this Hugh Parks got a whipping for whistling in school, and when he whistled again. Prof. King choked him until he grew white in the face. Two chastisements in one day for one boy was not unusual. Many wore a double thickness of pants and an occasional book in the seat.

That was one way, the old fashioned way, of learning, and they all learned to love the courage, the manhood and the ideals of Palemon J. King.

WHIGS IN FLOYD. - Floyd County Whigs met Tuesday, Aug. 3, 1852, at the court house and elected delegates to their state convention, which convened Aug. 17 at Macon. The leading Whigs of the county follow, according to The Courier of July 29:

A DUEL ON BROAD. - It was sort of customary in the old days to shoot folks you didn't like. The original "Bill" Arp and "Bill" Johnson had been good friends up to about 1863. "Bill" Johnson had asked "Bill" Arp to look after his younger brother, Jeff Johnson, at the front in Virginia. Jeff had got down sick, and here was "Bill" Arp back in Rome on a furlough. The two "Bills" met out in the country somewhere and came to town in "Bill" Johnson's buggy. They went into a saloon next to the old Choice House or Central Hotel, where the Hotel Forrest now stands. After a few drinks, they fell to quarreling. "Bill" Johnson accused "Bill" Arp of neglecting his brother Jeff.

"Bill" Arp the choice of two of Johnson's pistols. At any rate, they went outside, and "Bill" Johnson said, "Now, you walk across the street, and when you reach the sidewalk, you turn around and shoot, because I'm going to be shootin' at you!"

"Bill" Johnson waited coolly at the near curb and "Bill" Arp strode bravely across. The firing started. As they shot, they advanced on each other. No cover was between, not even a trash box. L. P. Reynolds, of 216 North Fifth Avenue, Fourth Ward, an eyewitness, says when "Bill" Arp's pistol was empty, he rushed forward to strike "Bill" Johnson with the butt of it. This was not necessary. His antagonist was down and dying from several wounds, for Arp was a crack shot. "Bill" Johnson had counted at least once. He shot Arp in the chest or side and the bullet followed a rib to the back, lodged under the skin and was cut out.

After the war Bill Arp and Jeff Johnson happened to find themselves crossing the Etowah River at Freeman's Ferry in the same batteau. Arp couldn't swim, and Johnson started rocking the boat. Arp shucked off his coat and started rocking until the water began coming over the side. "All right, Jeff," said Arp, "when she sinks I'm going to camp around your neck - I golly!" "Quit that. Bill; don't be a fool!" urged Johnson. Arp ceased rocking and they paddled the balance of the distance in peace.

Bill Arp later moved to Clarendon, Ark, and went to farming again. Mr. Reynolds and Virgil A. Stewart say he fell off a wagon load of corn in 1883 and was killed. Another account has it that he was traveling with a caravan of "prairie schooners," tied up at night, went to sleep under a wagon and had his neck broken when the mules, still hitched to the conveyance, started off suddenly. There he lies, in the forks of the Military and Helena roads - the man who furnished a noted name to Georgia. * * *

AN INLAND VOYAGE. - We left Rome about daylight on a drizzly Friday morning on board the steamer Resaca, of the White Star line. Captain George H. Magruder in command, with a full crew and the venerable Captain Frank J. Benjamin in the engine room,

Sam Cosper was first mate and Hub Coulter second, and I was the lone passenger. I was weary and worn out, sick and disgusted, and I wanted to get as far from civilization as possible with the means at my command.

Some men would have started for darkest Africa, feeling as I did, but I decided to compromise on darkest Alabama, and I succeeded beyond my own expectations.

We carried as cook and steward two of the most peculiar characters that it has ever been my fortune to run up with - Amy, a matronly negress of the old sort, ready to sympathize with all your sorrows and to offer you a cup of coffee or sassafras tea every time she saw the wrinkles deepen on your forehead, and Dick, a diminutive darkey who might have been anywhere from fifty to one hundred and fifty years of age, just as you chose to calculate.

Dick was about five feet high, of a pale dun color, with a little goatee of scattered whiskers on his retreating chin and a short-stemmed black pipe of the rankest sort that the fiends of nicotine ever dreamed of in their wildest vagaries stuck between his lips, the kindliest, most inoffensive and obliging darkey I ever laid my eyes upon. There was such an air of humility, without any fawning affectation, about him, such a desire to please and such an air of general obligingness about both Dick and Amy that we made friends on the spot, after Captain Magruder had kindly placed them at my disposal.

As for Captain George Magruder, the good Lord never created a more rcyal-hearted gentleman, and many were the legends and traditions that he recounted as we stood on the deck looking out over the broad expanse of rippling waters, all agleam with the shimmer of myriad stars, with the searchlight of the steamer wandering from shore to shore of the historic river.

And then how delightful it was to creep up into the pilot house with Sam Cosper and listen to his rich fund of anecdotes and incidents and to hear his merry laugh ring out through the sombre silence above the throb, throb, throb of the engine and the swish of the parting waters.

knows how far it was by land, for nobody ever traversed it, but we could feel a change in the air which indicated a marked difference in latitude, and, besides, there was a glint of green on the waving willows and a dash of crimson on the maples that showed that we had glided down nearer to meet the springtime.

This was about noon on Saturday. The drifting clouds had passed away and the sun shone hazily on the shaggy mountain peaks that loomed up all around us, for we had reached the point where the wild Sand mountain range crosses the course of the Coosa, and below us for eighty miles the river rushes over rapids and plunges along through narrow gorges and dashes over cataracts, offering an insurmountable barrier to further navigation.

The Federal government has expended many thousands of dollars in the improvements at the three locks, where there is a fall of over twentyfive feet in the river within a few miles, and is still at work, as often as an appropriation can be secured, endeavoring to extend the navigable portion of the stream, still fai'ther southward.

If that eighty miles between Lock 3 and Wetumpka could be opened, Rome would have 1,200 miles of waterway through one of the most fertile sections of the south, taking in the granaries of the Coosa valley and the rich cotton fields along those alluvial bottoms, as well as the fine timberlands of the mountain region below.

But oh, how lonely is that out-ofthe-way region, peopled only by the lumbermen and "hill billies," as the rural population is characterized by the steamboat men. I gazed on the lock-keeper's house, provided by the government, perched high on a swelling hill above the river, and wondered how he managed to while away his leisure hours.

You see, it is his duty to open the locks twice a day and see that they are in working order, whether any boat passes or not, and otherwise he has nothing to do. But there are plenty of buffalo perch in the river, and during the winter large flocks of wild geese and ducks, so that aside from the solitude of his surroundings, his situation is not an unpleasant one.

Dinner was announced soon after we turned our faces homeward, and we sat down with a relish to a bountiful meal, which we enjoyed as only such

Note at the top the sea-going appearance of the good ship "Sequoyah", built by Troop 2 of the Boy Scouts in "Beaverslide" . Is it any wonder that Rome lads can swim, dive and sail? .sewhere are seen various boats and bathers, the Eagle Troop of Girl Scouts at the Carnegie Library, and boys engaged in games on Hamilton Field. Most of the pictures were taken Sept. 5, 1921.

Then began the toilsome journey up the river, w^hich is full of shoals and unusually low for the season, which necessitates the most careful navigation to prevent the vessel sticking on the rocks or running her nose into a mud bank. Six miles an hour was the average speed, and I had an opportunity of viewing many points noted in the history of the country.

There was Canoe Creek, coming in from the westward, which glides through the wildest portion of that mountain region, whose inhabitants are cut off from civilization amid the gloom,y forests of the mountain sides and the low green valleys, where they raise their little crops and look after their small flocks of half wild goats, razor back hogs and scrub cattle.

Then there was Big Will's valley and Will's creek, lying between the Lookout and Sand Mountain regions, where thousands of acres of wheat lands lie green and glowing with the first touches of spring, and where once the Cherokees had one of their most important towns in the long ago.

A little farther up is Greensport, consisting of a small country store and a shack of a sawmill to cut the timber rafted down from the adjacent mountain slopes; and nearby, the old P'ederal road, which was opened by General Andrew Jackson during his campaigns against the Five Nations, especially the mighty Muscogees, crosses the river.

As I gazed on the adjacent landings on either side of the river, memories of Talladega, Big Bend and Emucfau came up before me with all the romance attached to those memorable days when "Old Hickory" broke the spirit of those dauntless warriors and haughty chieftains and laid waste their towns, destroyed their crops and forced them to make terms with the hated pale faces.

Ever and anon we passed a ferry with its long wire stretched from shore to shore, and slack enough to permit the boat to pass over it without fouling, and the ferryman squatted in his flat craft, which was tied to the roots of some ancient tree on the shore.

Then we would pass a group of "hill billies," male and female, in picturesque garments huddled together on some overlooking bluff, in various attitudes of listless interest, the girls giggling and gesticulating and the men smoking short pipes or whittling

About the middle of the afternoon we reached the quaint old town of Gadsden, at one time one of the most important points in all that country, since it was in the center of the rich lands along the river and supplied a territory extending far down the river and far up into the hills on every hand. Prior to the war, a great deal of business was done at Gadsden, and as the only means of transportation was by the river, the traffic was very profitable to the steamboat owners.

But the building of the Rome and Decatur and Cincinnati Southern railroads changed the face of things. Attalla has taken away much of the trade formerly enjoyed by Gadsden, and Birmingham and Chattanooga are getting the greater share of the business that formerly went to Rome, and steamboating is not very profitable these days.

By the time we had taken on the cargo destined for Rome, twilight had fallen and we were just able to discern a group of raftsmen signaling from the shore when we reached the ancient landing at Turkeytown. They were "hill billies" from away back, and a young lady who embarked at the same place had the dew of the mountain in her deep blue eyes, and the scent of sweet balsam on her clothes, so that I knew she had come down from some homestead, old and gray, in the neighborhood of the House of Rocks.

This curious place is located on the crest of one of the spurs of Dirtseller mountain, just above a circular valley through which flows Yellow Creek, a far-famed fishing stream. It covers several acres, and the towering boulders are scattered around with turrets and pinnacles, and regular streets and alleys between, and looks like a deserted pueblo that had been inhabited by a race of giants.

Near Turkeytown, on a beautiful bluff crowned wieh groves of wild cedar, is the site of the old Moravian mission that was located there more than a hundred years ago. The rock work of an ancient landing place on the river is still to be seen, but why it was built in such a substantial manner is hard to imagine, as that was before the days of steamboats, and before Rome or Gadsden, Birmingham or Chattanooga had been located.

There is a legend that those Moravian missionaries learned the secret of the Raccoon Creek silver mines from the Indians, and that they took out a great deal of ore in the olden days. But they have passed away and few^ memorials of their existence remain, and the location of the silver mines has passed from the knowledge of men for lo these many years.

From that point up, the river indulges in a series of remarkable bends, now trending away to the southward in a mighty curve; now rushing back to the northward in the same eccentric manner; and in every fold of its mighty sinuosities lie bodies of fertile lands, on which wheat, corn, cotton and other crops are grown.

The amount of chickens and eggs shipped to Rome from this section is enormous and almost incredible. We took on several hundred dozen at various landings during the night, and when morning dawned the bow of the Resaca looked like a large incubator.

As we glided along the river I asked Captain Benjamin if he did not consider it very crooked, as it is only fifty miles from Rome to Gadsden by land and 165 by river.

"Well," said he, "it bends and twists around pretty smartly, but it is nothing to a river on which I boated in my younger days. It was so crooked that sometimes we would have to shut off steam and let her drift because of the danger of fouling the rudder in the forechains at the bow of the boat." Then I went forward and looked out over the water and meditated.

Before we reached Round mountain I had retired to my berth, leaving the forward cabin in full possession of the "hill billies," who were piled and crossed on the floor enjoying a much needed rest. One of them slept with a fiddle under his arm, and I heard Captain Magi'uder miaking very emphatic remarks as he picked his way through the throng, and then I fell asleep.

Along about midnight I was awakened by the wailing blast of the whistle announcing the approach to some landing, and just as I opened my eyes I heard an old familiar strain from the front cabin:

The fiddler had roused up and was regaling us with his choicest music, and it sounded so much like old times that I was real sorry when I heard the sound of his fiddle growing fainter and fainter as he left the boat at the landing and disappeared in the darkness.

Folsom'S Farewell To

FOLSOM'S FAREWELL TO ROME. - Montgomery M. Folsom, one of Georgia's accomplished journalists, is believed to have lived about five years in Rome, in which time he was employed as a member of the staff of The 'Tribune. He wrote much verse and many editorials, as well as the squibs in the day's news. He was a prominent member of Cherokee Lodge 66 of Masons, and for a time lived at the Catholic parsonage on East First Street, between Fourth and Fifth Avenues. He is known to have been on The Tribune Nov. 20, 1892; on Nov. 15, 1896, he was still there. It is believed he left in 1897 or 1898. His path led to Atlanta, where he contributed for some years to the Atlanta Journal and the Atlanta Constitution before his deah. His lyrical valedictory to Romans follows :

"And now a few words at parting, for the day is drawing nigh when I shall turn my face toward other scenes than these that have become endeared to me through many trials and triumphs. Let us sit down and have a plain, old timey talk. You all know how near to my heart I hold you. That includes all. I make no reservation. I came among you without a friend. I want to go away without an enemy. If there be any of you who feel that I have wrongfully used you, I ask your forgiveness. All of you whom I feel have misjudged me I forgive freely. I love Rome and the welfare of her people above all petty personalities.

"Time will efface all the scars. In the golden glory of the beautiful years to come I shall look back vnth pride and gratitude that I was once a citizen of Rome. I trust that the Great Ruler of the universe will strengthen and sustain me so that you may never have cause to deplore the confidence which you have so generously reposed in me. Your faults are so infinitesimal that they are lost to sight in the contemplation of your virtues. You are an ambitious and a high-spirited people, and fair as the dawn is the horoscope of your future destiny.

without flattery, that the day will come when yours will be one of the fairest cities in all the Southland. I have traveled much and during my checkered career I have come in contact with many people. I have never seen the superiors of the good people of Rome and there are more genuine good people and fewer sorry ones to the size of the place than I have ever found anywhere. Your men would hold their own in any community and your women would adorn the highest circles in any sphere.

"When I speak of the women of Rome, a great flood of chivalrous tenderness sweeps over my soul. I have watched them in their works and ways. I have seen their generous kindliness and their deeds of daring, their patience and perseverance, and, above all, the ideals of moral and spiritual elevation after which their daily lives are patterned. Verily, the prediction of the future achievement of the race is well assured with such an exalted motherhood. These are not idle words, but the freely rendered homage of one who claims to be able to appreciate the splendor of their glorious exemplification of true womanliness.

"Oh, I have had a good time in Rome. I have had some troubles, but I am going to forget them. When I think of the innumerable blessings that I have enjoyed during my stay here, the ills are already forgotten. My memory is very defective in regard to troubles, anyway. It is so much pleasanter to remember the things that I have enjoyed. Recalling sorrows gives people mental indigestion and sourness of the intellect. Life is so short that we ought to keep the flowers blooming inside when the frost nips them outside, and pluck up and cast out the weeds as fast as they appear.

"And your preachers. Now, you have caught me. I confess to being a jolly old pagan, for I have not been to preaching often. I have not heard them preach. But you forget one thing. I have felt them preach. I have seen them day and night in the highways and byways, in the privacy of the home and in public places, and what I have lacked in hearing I have absorbed through the pores of my heart, which I never allow to become clogged to the prevention of that receptivity of good influences which keeps the trembling needle of conscience pointing steadily to the pole star of God.

in the beautiful years to come. Call me an idle dreamer, an optimist, if you please. The sons of these gracious mothers shall yet inherit a richer legacy than falls to the share of many of the sons of men. They will inherit that faith and fortitude, that fidelity to duty and perseverance in the paths of progress that are so characteristic of those whose white hands are sustaining their white souls in the uprearing of a fabric that shall stand till time shall be no more!

"Go on in your ways of energetic development. Give free rein to every noble aim and aspiration. You cannot place your ideals too high. Better that you should never reach them than that you should set them so low that when attained you would be mortified to realize that they were so ignoble as not to be worth the toil and trouble. I am following out my own destiny. My life is in the hands of God. All that I ask is that He will strengthen and sustain me in my efforts until my life work is ended this side the river.

"I am sorry that I shall not be the first to discover the fringe of green on the grim old willows on the banks of the Etowah. Think of me when you hear the wild birds singing among their budding boughs. Remember me for the good that I desired to do, and not for the mistakes I made, for they are many. But you will do that. You are all too generous to treasure ill feelings and too high-spirited to be mean and malicious. We know each other, you and I. But here the roads fork. I must be going. So must you. And now God be with you till we meet again

"LORD BERESFORD'S" ADVENTURES. - The period of 1890-1900 was marked by the decline of the steamboat business, due to increased competition from the railroads, and the appearance of the plausible "Lord Beresford." known in real life by the name of Sidney Lascelles.*

"Lord Beresford" was "discovered" in New York City about 1893 by a young Roman named McGuire. He was living in style and to all appearances was a polished gentleman and everything else he claimed to be, including his descendancy from Lord Beresford, the English nobleman. According to his story, he was looking

Four Builders

Left to right, J. K. Williamson, a member of the Rome City Council in 1889; Col. D. B. Hamilton, for many years president of the Board of Trustees of Shorter College and the Board of of the University of

Georgia ; Foster Harper, of the well-known family from Cave Spring; at bottom. Rev. A. J. Battle, president of Shorter College in the nineties and a minister of the gospel who occasionally filled the pulpit of the First Baptist church.

"Lord Beresford" may or may not have had the price of a railroad ticket to Rome; he got to Rome nevertheless, and was immediately taken in tow by the proprietors of the Etna Iron Works. This concern's properties were given in for taxation at about $30,000, but out of consideration of the plight of such an exceptional stranger, he might have half of the stock of the concern for $500,000. After negotiating for a week, during which time he expressed complete satisfaction over his contemplated trade, "Lord Beresford" stated that he would need a bit of "change" to complete his arrangements. He proposed to give his personal check on a London bank for something like $2,000; the Etna interests accepted the check and financed it through the First National Bank of Rome.

Long before the check could reach the astonished officials of the London institution with which no such individual had an account, "Lord Beresford" had bought a ticket back to New York without saving goodbye to his

J. W. Lancaster, local photographer who had at one time or another snapped nearly every family group in the Hill City, was kept busy several days making copies of photographs of "Lord Beresford" for detective agencies and police stations throughout the country. Eventually the culprit was apprehended in New York, and Deputy Sheriff Dallas Turner went up and brought him back. On the train returning was a Roman who engaged in conversation with His Highness, and was so deeply impressed with his philanthropic pretensions that he declared to his fellow townsman that nothing but good could emanate from this man. Indeed, "Lord Beresford" had friends whose sympathies were so thoroughly touched that they sent flowers to his cell in the Floyd County jail and supplied him with every toothsome viand and literary morsel the heart could wish. The steady stream of visitors taxed the patience of the sheriff and jailor, Jake C. Moore; those stories of the castle in England and of princes and princesses, taken with the lavender in his silk handkerchief and his

"Lord Beresford" appeared to have been looking for money rather than for an opportunity to spend his own. His note book was full of the names and addresses of persons he had met here and there, so he dropped them a line explaining the horrible misapprehension which had led to his temporary detainment. One of his former traveling companions was the late George Selden, head of the Erie City Iron Works, of Ei'ie, Pa., an uncle of the late George D. Selden, until his death recently also head of that concern, and well known to older Romans through business deals at Rome. Mr. Selden wrote a friend to advance "Lord Beresford" a reasonable amount of money. The erudite friend visited the jail, heard from the lips of Sheriff Moore that "Lord Beresford" did not need any additional physical comforts and was an unconscionable scoundrel, and wrote back to Mr. Selden these impressions. It was learned later that Mr. Selden sent him $200 or $300 through another individual.

The prisoner had married a wealthy woman in New York, through whose influence with Atlanta friends and relatives he was freed on bond. While awaiting trial, he opened a bicycle shop on the ground floor of the Armstrong Hotel ; the bicycle craze was at its height, and he sold a lot of bicycles in Rome and elsewhere, and probably made part payments on some of them. He gave a Rome boy a nice bicycle and touched his "daddy" for a loan of $600. He always said he would explain the whole affair at the proper time, but when the time came, his excuses were too flimsy; a jury found him guilty of cheating and swindling, and Judge Jno. W. Maddox sentenced him to two years in the penitentiary, or similar term. He was represented by Attorney Linton A, Dean, and prosecuted by Solicitor General Cicero T. Clements. He served part of his sentence in a lumber camp as time keeper and sort of secretary of the gang; and it was said he was so smooth that he would soon have owned the "works" had he not decided to depart and breath the air of freedom. He was captured near Americus and put back again, and finally his sentence ended.

During his confinement he enjoyed considerable leisure, as before, and wrote a humorous paper on his experiences, which he published in pamphlet form at perhaps 25 cents a copy.

"I was much impressed by the thoughtfulness of my host and hostess, and also occasionally amused. The good lady inquired of me, 'Milord, at what hour would it suit Your Highness to breakfast?'

"She had thoughtfully instructed the colored butler to observe the royal etiquette and to follow the royal form, and so he said to me at table:

"Lord Beresbord's" wife received evidence of his pranks with other women and quit him; presently he turned up in Fitzgerald and married another with money, and when she died shortly afterward he got about $40,000 of her funds. Everywhere he went he left in his wage a string of shady transactions. His real name and defalcations bobbed up in New York; he went west and got into another peck of trouble, and finally succumibed to consumption at Asheville, N. C, about 1898.

The confidence which certain friends had in "Lord Beresford's" good intentions was expressed in the following incident: After he had made bond and entered the bicycle business, the Merchants' Association had occasion to hold a meeting and elect a delegate to a convention in a far-off city. Somebody seriously nominated "Lord Beresford," and it appeared that he might have no opposition until a member arose and declared if Beresford went, he would resign. This bombshell broke up the plan, and another delegate was chosen.

HAIR FOR THE HAIRLESS. - In the year 1895 a fraud was discovered that outdid "wooden nutmegs." A salesman appeared who guaranteed that in a month or two he could grow hair on the baldest head. He showed a photograph of his own shiny dome "before using;" and, quoth he, "just look at me now!"

Sure enough, the picture was a hopeless sight; only a lonesome fringe hung around his ears; while on his head as he stood before the prospective "victim" was as fine a growth of hair as could be found. For $25 he would warrant a "cure" to anybody, no mat- ter how everything else had failed; only $10 was to be paid on receipt of a large bottle of "hair restorer," and the balance was due after the hair appeared in luxuriance.

Quite a number of leading Romans who had almost given up hope added tc the man's worldly store; but along came one noted for his sagacity and ability to detect fakes, and said:

"Stranger, you can't sell anybody in this store. The day of miracles is past. It looks to me like you shaved your head for that picture, and the photographer made you a sleek dome instead of one covered with fine stubble. Get out of here!"

ROME SUBMERGED: A REAL FRESHET. - When a town is built upon a hill, it must encounter high winds, and when it is built on a river, it must combat high water. Rome has hills on all sides, but the heart of Rome is between two rivers at their junction, and when the high waters come, Romans move upstairs and paddle about as best they can until the recession sets in.

At the Azores Islands the natives are constantly battling plagues which take their fruits and other crops. Now and then a volcano spews forth its hot lava and covers a town; but the natives never give up, and neither do the Romans lose heart when the Etowah and the Oostanaula occasionally break out of bank and race through front yards. For that matter, preventive measures have been taken which gi'eatly lessen the inconveniences; Broad Street has been raised a maximum of eight feet over its former level, and every possible approach to it has been elevated correspondingly. Perhaps once a year, as in most river towns, a little water goes in store basements, so that shifting of "cargo" to an upper "deck" is necessary; the rabbits are all driven out of the low grounds, and the rabbit hunters have a picnic for two or three days. Eventually all the inconvenience will no doubt disappear, for the town is growing in the direction of hills which tower high above any possible rise; and it has even been suggested that some 100 acres at the forks be left clear of buildings in the distant future and converted into a park. Some people think there is no further danger of a serious flood, while others claim that the backage from the Mayo Bar Lock (lock and dam), eight miles down the Coosa, has raised the normal level of the water two or three feet at Rome above the old level.

Suggests Something to TImik About. - Things used to be different. There is a legend which says citizens once hitched their canoes on Tower Hill above the old court house. This yarn related to the time the Indians were still around here, and it sounds like Virgil A. Stewart after a feast of ice cream and catfish. Old settlers tell of a freshet in 1881 which broke through the banks at Foster's Bend, Coosa River, some 16 miles below Rome, and washed clear a lot of Indian relics in a mound on the Foster (Moultrie) farm, so that Wesley O. Connor went over from Cave Spring and got a lot of valuable specimens.

Prof. Connor took a one-horse wagon to the same place after the freshet of 1886, and carried it home well filled ; he got mortars and pestles, tomahawks, wampum, spear heads, peace pipes, pottery, Indian money and at least a bushel of arrow heads, and also several skulls of warriors bold.

The rain appears to have begun falling Monday, March 29, 1886. It kept up in a deluge for several days, until the waters were at flood stage on Wednesday, March 31, and worse on Thursday. Rome was not the only sufferer. The South suffered, from Virginia to Texas. The towns in the hills did not escape. A number of lives were lost, but none definitely at Rome. Atlanta's waterworks plant and pumping station were seriously crippled and many of her streets made impassable.

The Rome correspondent of the Atlanta Constitution sent messages by wire to his paper as long as the water remained below the operator's transmitter. Then he went out to get a ham sandwich by canoe and left the field to the late Edward C. Bruffey, v^^ho was admirably qualified to paddle through it. "Bruff" tells all about it in the last three dispatches quoted below. The items are all from The Constitution and the dates of dispatching and of printing are affixed at the opening and closing of each article, respectively:

Rome Drenched. - Rome, Ga., March 29, 1886. - (Special.) - The heavy rains have swelled the creeks and rivers, and there is great danger of freshets. Advices from the headwaters of the Oostanaula report heavy rains. - Tuesday, March 30, 1886.

Rome Submerged. - Rome, Ga.. Mar. 30. - (Special.) - Rome is threatened with the greatest freshet in her history. Since Friday night it is estimated there has been a rainfall of more than six inches, nearly two inches more than preceded the great freshet of 1881. Worst of all, the end is not yet. The rain still continues, and at noon is pouring in torrents. The oldest inhabitants shake their heads gloomily and are despondent.

The Oostanaula River is rising eight inches an hour, and the Coosa and the Etowah are making terrible headway. The water has just reached Broad Street and will be two or three feet from the Rome Hotel to Norton's corner. At the foot of Howard Street (Second Avenue) and in the Fourth Ward it will be deeper.

Early this morning the middle section of the new bridge of the Rome and Carrollton Railway washed away and is now lodged against the piers of the Broad Street bridge. Great fears are entertained for the latter bridge, and men are at work trying to remove the debris.

Broad Street this afternoon presents a busy scene. Merchants are removing goods from their stores and taking every possible precaution against the flood. Being thoroughly forewarned, there will be no damage to the merchandise. At the foot of Howard Street the residents are moving from one-story houses, and those residing in two-story buildings are moving upstairs.

At this hour, 8:30 p. m., Broad Street from Norton's corner to the bridge is one sheet of water from two to four feet deep. Every leading business house, except for a few between Norton's and the Central Hotel, is submerged. The cotton warehouse, water works, gas house, and a large number of private dwellings are under water. The flood is now within a few inches of that of 1881, which was the highest ever known in Rome, and the rivers are still rising eight inches an hour. It is raining in torrents. We do not know what tomorrow will bring forth. Intense excitement prevails and groups of people are on that part of Broad Street that is still dry. It is feared that many merchants have not raised their goods high enough, though all have raised them four or five feet above the high water mark of 1881. No loss of life is yet reported. The streets are in darkness. Thus far there is little damage except to the railroads.

Nine O'clock P. M. - The rivers are still rising. The water is nearly at the top of the tables in the Western Union office here, and communication can be held but a few minutes longer. The operator is telegraphing while standing on his table and momentarily looks for a break. Your correspondent has just returned from - (At this point the wires refused to work, and communication between Rome and Atlanta ended for the night. - Editors Constitution. - Wednesday, March 31, 1886.

The Delayed Wedding. - Mr. Geo. N. West, of Carrollton, who came to Atlanta two evenings ago, intending to go on through to Rome, where he was to have been married yesterday at 1 o'clock to Miss Mary Lou Colclough, is still in the city. He could get no word to Rome, and the people there have no idea where he is. Nor does he know anything about the people in Rome, except the fact that the horrte at which he was to have been married is more than ten feet under water. - Thursday, April 1, 1886.

Rome Absolutely Cut Off- - The Constitution made every endeavor to reach Rome yesterday by wire, but without success. The Rome and Carrollton Railway is almost washed away, and the Rome and Kingston road is in almost as bad a fix. The East Tennessee does not know when it can again reach Rome. This absolutely cuts the city off from the world. At last accounts it was ten feet under water in some places, and the water was still rising. The county is water-bound by the flooded creeks and the bridges of its public roads are gone. It is possible that something will be heard from the city today.

There have been filed at the Western Union office in Atlanta over 200 messages from individuals in this city to those in Rome, and all still hang on the hook of the telegraph office in this city, or have been returned. As it is. The Constitution's message of Tuesday night is the last from Rome. - Thursday, April 1, 1886.

at last, but the news is only that up to Wednesday night. What is known of the condition of the city comes from an extra edition of the Rome Bulletin, printed yesterday and brought to The Constitution by Capt. Sanford Bell, of the Western & Atlantic Road. It was printed yesterday (Friday) on a little 8xl2-inch hand press, and a copy was carried from Rome to Kingston by somebody who succeeded in getting through the country. Here it fell into Capt. Bell's hands. Extracts from it follow:

"On Tuesday morning a bulletin board was placed in front of The Bulletin office. We put up a bulletin: 'Move your goods 12 inches higher than the mark of 1881.'

"We moved everything up except our heavy presses, and took out a large sized Liberty press to Dr. P. L. Turnley's drug store, where this issue was printed. The editor tried long to get a boat, and finally procured one half full of water. He managed to reach the office door about 12 noon, where there was three feet of water. The boat was then nearly full of water, and it was a desperate effort to get it to land before it would sink. With wet clothing and wet feet he caught cramp and had to beat a retreat. By 10 the next morning there was eight feet of water in The Bulletin office.

"Thos. Fahy's, silks, laces, etc., $15,- 000; Hardy & Co., $5,000; Rounsaville & Bro., $15,000. J. A. Rounsaville got in at the second story and cut a hole through the floor and got out books and papers.

"In nine or ten feet of water a cow and a calf were swimming on Broad Street. Connor O'Rear's stern-wheel boat came along and several men called to the animals to follow. The cow was about to give up when Mr. O'Rear caught her by the horns and towed her to land. The calf swam out. Mules swam after boats past the First Presbyterian Church.

"The young ladies of the Rome Female College came to the Central Hotel in charge of Prof. Sam C. Caldwell and Prof. McLean, and went out riding in two boats.

"Ten homes between the Rome Railroad and the Etowah River floated away. Samuel Lusk, Pink Turner, Will Curr, I. S. Davis, Dr. E. P. Lovelace, Charlie Ansley, Capt. W. T. Smith, Dan Ramsey, M. F. Govan, W. P. O'Neill, Mr. Jones, J. M. Lovelace, Chas. Gammon and C. O. Stillwell lost their houses and most of the contents. John Eve's house floated to the middle of Howard Street and finally went on down.

"A party of gentlemen were watching the Etowah River near Howard Street and saw a house float down. On its roof was a man who was gesticulating and calling for help. Another report said a whole family was on the house.

"A good deal of anxiety was felt for Capt. J. N. Perkins, who was calmly looking out of a second-story window. He and his family were rescued and taken to Broad Street.

"A gentleman said to a Bulletin man: 'I have lost everything. I said to my wife at breakfast time, "When you married me I was worth $3,000 to $3,500. Now, it is all gone!" "Well," said she, "we have four boys and good health; that is all we need!"

"It was reported that Mr. Woodruff counted fifteen houses floating by. J. L. Johnson's stable and Mr. Belcher's house in East Rome have gone.

"At 1:15 a. m. a tremendous crash was heard in the lower part of the city, and it was known that the bridge at the lower end of Broad Street was gone. A gentleman at the Rome Hotel said he saw a light on the bridge and it went out just as the crash came, and he heard a man cry, 'Ain't you coming to help me? Are you going to let me drown?' It was rumored that there was a special watchman on the bridge.

"When morning: came there was not a bridge on the Etowah but the E. T. V. & G. near Forrestville. The only bridge remaining to Rome is the one across the Oostanaula River at Bridge Street (Fifth Avenue).

"We learn from Capt. E. J. Magruder that there was no watchman on the Broad Street bridge, but there was one at Patton's, who called out to people at the E. T. V. & G. Railroad depot just before the bridge went." - Saturday, April 3, 1886.

Waters Receding. - Rome, Ga., April 2. - (Special.) - The waters which have been raging in Rome since Tuesday last are receding, and the Hill City people are beginning to smile again. One who has not seen the destitution and desolation caused by the flood can have no idea of the situation. The city is full of water, the streets are hidden from view, and the houses for a quarter of a mile away from the river are surrounded by the yellow, muddy stuff that no more deserves the name of water than does the water from the Atlanta waterworks.

Rome was finally reached by your correspondent after a perilous train trip across the Etowah River bridge, thence by way of Kingston in a buggy. The spectacle that greeted me as I reached the city was one never to be flood can have an idea of the sieuaforgotten. Broad Street from the Central Hotel to the rivers is one sheet of muddy water, while every street running parallel with Broad is covered too. The Central Hotel is the point nearest the stream, and here everybody congregates. A hundred skiffs are moored nearby. Men who have built these water riders are reaping a small fortune by conveying people around to look at the roofs of their houses, or to hunt a house that has floated away. A ride down Broad Street in one of these Venetian gondolas made of Georgia pine makes a cold shiver run down one's back. Stores with closed doors, and goods and boxes floating about greet the eye. Thursday night the flood was seven feet higher than the flood of 1881. Not less than 20 dwellings have been swept away. Late Tuesday night, March 30, the Broad Street bridge, the Howard Street bridge and the East Tennessee Railroad bridge were swept out of existence. Conservative men in Rome place the damage at $300,000, and as much more in the country.

The Baptists are determined that the state convention shall be held here as planned. The people will provide generously for the delegates, despite their misfortune.

Fourth Ward is completely under water. Thirty cases of measles had to be moved. One store with a stock of merchandise floated away. Many poor families lost all. The suffering is intense, but for once it is among the rich as well as among the poor.

Howard Street, the Peachtree of Rome, is a sheet of water from end to end, and Brussels carpets, parlor furniture, lace curtains, pianos and bric-a-brac are ruined by the carloads.

John Lovelace was driven from his house and carried nothing out. J. L. McGhee got away no better. Judge Joel Branham has deserted his lower floor and is living on the top floor. One of the finest pianos in Rome was saved here. H. H. Smith was driven out of his handsome residence. Mrs. W. L. Whitely escaped with her life only. William Ramey surrendered his house to the water. Major Fouche and Capt. Stillwell are living away from home.

Bales of cotton, box cars and hogs on rafts are floating about the streets. A bale of hay came down one of the rivers with a crowing rooster on it. The people are cheerful. - Edward C. Bruffey, Saturday, April 3, 1886.

A Perilous Trip to Rome. - Kingston Ga., April 2. - (Special.) - Tuesday morning, after all trains had stopped running on the Rome Railroad, and the Etowah overflow had covered most of its track, Capt. John J. Seay came up from Atlanta to Kingston on the morning passenger, saying he must get to Rome, where his family and his property were. He and John H. Harris started on this perilous trip in a buggy, while the rain came down in blinding sheets. They drove through water some three or four feet deep for four miles. Reaching what is usually a small stream, near the Barnsley place, and being advised by a farmer that it was fordable, they drove in. The horse had gone only a few steps when he be-

Various Ways Employed To Get Around

Batteaux are in heavy demand when the water rises. In addition to serving for transportation purposes, they are often used by hunting parties who find many rabbits caught in queer places. An automobile is shown splashing its way along Second Avenue, and others are plowing across a low place in West Fifth. The pictures were taken in the spring of 1921.

At this moment the horse and buggy stopped against a log. Mr. Harris made a flying leap for a sawmill slab he espied protruding from the water, which he caught and clung to until he could unhitch the horse. Jumping on the animal, he swam to the rear of the buggy, which by that time had again started down stream. Catching on to the wheel, still holding to the horse, Mr. Harris started for the shore.

All this time Capt Seay was sitting in the buggy, wet and shivering with cold, amazement depicted on his countenance at the coolness and daring of his companion.

After the wheels had hit bottom, Mr. Harris made fast the lines and pulled the buggy safely on the bank, Capt. Seay exclaiming, "We are safe! We are safe!"

Messrs. Foots Roode, Judge Sanford, Prof. Agostino, and Mr. Drewry left Rome the same day and came near drowning in a stream. They had to cut their horses loose and swim out, leaving their carriage to float downstream. - Edward C. Buffey, Saturday, April 3, 1886.

Spirit of the Romafis. - Rome, Ga., April 3. - (Special.) - The people are remarkably buoyant in spirit, and as the waters recede their buoyancy ascends little by little.

The flood is the most wonderful and remarkable in the South, but decidedly more wonderful and remarkable are the courage, nerve and equipoise of the people who have suffered.

No city in the world has more energetic, conservative and safe business men than Rome, and every factor in her trade, commerce and society is loyal to his city and devoted to her interests None of them think of deserting her now in the hour of adversity, but on the contrary, the bad luck seems to weld tighter and harder the bond between them and their home. The men are not alone in their determination to stick by the Hill City. The ladies, young and old, married and single, love the town, and with tongue and pen they boast of her advantages.

They burden each mail with letters to their friends telling them that Rome is still sitting on her hills, from whence she will continue to rule the commerce of the Coosa Valley.

On the banks of the Etowah stand the warerooms of Battey & Hamiltons. These gentlemen conduct a large wholesale and retail grocery business, and handle many bales of cotton. They probably had 1,500 bales of cotton in the warehouse. Mr. Battey is one of the most energetic men in the Hill City; he has push and pluck enough for half a dozen men, and when he realized the danger he hired a colony of negroes and went to work. He packed his cotton above high water mark, and when the water still came up, he chopped holes through the roof of the warehouse and lifted the cotton out. A great many bales floated out, and steamers gathered them in. The task was a hard one, but nearly all the cotton was saved. The firm's stock of groceries was quite low, but was considerably damaged. Probably Battey & Hamiltons can come nearer telling their loss than any one in Rome, and it is put down by them at $8,000 to $10,000.

Across the street is the new Rome Hotel. The water reached the second story of this building, and as the water went up, the people in the hotel also went up. They have since been living upstairs. Boats ride up to the second-story porch and take on or discharge their cargo of human freight. - Edward C. Bruffey, Sunday, April 4, 1886,

The water rose to 40.3 feet above normal water level. Judge Joel Branham's law office and residence at the northeast corner of Second Avenue and East First Street is 33 feet above normal, and the water reached his ground floor mantels. Judge Branham hired a negro to help him move upstairs; his fine piano was hitched to the lower stairway. He was due to celebrate on April 24 his silver wedding anniversary with his wife, who was Miss Georgia Cuyler, but the confusion arising from the freshet caused the event to be postponed. The convention of Georgia Baptists was held as planned, a few days after the water went down, and the judge, being a staunch Baptist and favorable to immersion (if necessary) on such an occasion, bought up all the frying-size chickens in the neighborhood and had them cooked for the visitors.

The determination of Romans was aptly expressed by a delegate : "You folks can dispense more genuine hospitality in a sea of mud than anybody I ever knew!"

The mayor of Rome at that time was Samuel M. Knox. He wanted to appeal to sister cities for help. "I can have $5,000 here in 24 hours," he declared. "Don't do any such thing," urged Judge Branham; "it would cost us more than $5,000. We have a lot of Baptists coming, and they won't make the trip if they get scared of a little water. We can take care of ourselves."

It was an event never to be forgotten. Citizens went looking for their houses and certain straying members of their families. A "freshet scout" came in with the report that a house had just floated by with the owner, an Irishman, on the roof, and complacently smoking a corn-cob pipe. It was stated that the marooner said everything he possessed had been swept down, and his only hope lay in going in the same direction.

Luke C. Mitchell, of the Fourth Ward, is authority for the statement that it was his steamboat, the Mitchell, with himself at the wheel, that steamed up Broad Street, which was about ten feet deep in water. The Mitchell had been tied up at the old wharf on the town side of the Etowah near the junction of the rivers. Capt. Mitchell had just received word that Adolphus Harbour's fine mare was swimming in Mr. Harbour's barnyard in the Fourth Ward, so he determined to rescue her. With Jep Camp as engineer and Hutch Moore along as "able-bodied seaman," he cut up the Etowah to Broad, turned wheel hard left and set his course northward up Rome's main business thoroughfare. Broad was under water as far as Fifth Avenue, so Capt. Mitchell turned to the left at Fourth Avenue, steamed past the City Hall and across the Oostanaula into the Fourth Ward. At Fourth and Broad Virgil A. Stewart and Jas. O. Winfrey tied their batteaux alongside and clambered aboard. The course lay along Fifth Avenue, and close to the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church.*

Cries for help being heard, Capt. Mitchell stopped and took Barnum Elders out of a second story window. On reaching the Harbour place, they found the mare half frozen from the cold, and nearly exhausted. They broke the fence and led her by a halter to a high point near the home of Mrs. Hiram D. Hill, on Avenue C. The mare was shivering, and so weak she could scarcely stand. Mr. Harbour, the owner, now lives at Wimpee's Ferry, Oostanaula River.

Shortly prior to this incident, Capt. Mitchell had manned the Steamer ^oel Marable and set out in pursuit of the Selma, Rome & Dalton Railroad wooden bridge down the Coosa River. He ran a line from his pilot house to a bridge stay and reversed his engines; but the Marable was too light and of insufficient power. After playing with the bridge all the way to Coosa (about 16 miles), he cast off and returned to his base. He had less trouble saving a freight car loaded with cotton and provisions.**

He took out the packages, heavily covered with river mud, and spread the bills before a grate fire, and in time had them all dry. The bank did not lose a dollar except in a small lot of new stationery. Mr. Hughes reported further that very few failures resulted from flood losses, and that the balance of the year was full of building activity.

It is worthy of note that two other pranks of nature were played on Romans about this time. A distinct earthquake shock was felt, and two feet of snow, the heaviest Rome has ever had, blocked the horse cars and seriously interfered with other traffic for two or three days.***

Less than a year after the freshet. Judge Branham, Jack King and Wes' Rounsaville were appointed by the city council to go to Washington and bring a government engineer to figure on a levee to keep the water out. They brought Oberlin M. Carter, a brilliant young government employee, and two assistants, whom Judge Branham quartered over his office on Second Avenue. Judge Branham wanted to ask what the survey was going to cost, but

**Capt. Mitchell states that it is not true that his steamer's waves broke glasses out ot Broad Street windows, and that the owners sued him for damages.

*** According to the best recollection of Nick Ayer, the well-known weather prophet, the earthquake came Aug. 30 and the snow either Dec. 1 or 25.

Dame Nature Makes Romans Step Lively

Like practically all river towns, Rome experiences an occasional freshet, and lucky are those who are perched on the hills. However, the damage is usually small and the inconvenience trifling. Prominent m the pictures are a street car on Second Avenue and the Mowel Cotton Co. s compress on First; an automobile and a cow on Fifth. Two ponies are marooned on an island on West Seventh Avenue.

Mr. King and Mr. Rounsaville thought that might offend the tender sensibilities of Rome's guests, and requested them to render a bill. The bill was $1,500, which the city council thought excessive. The price was finally beaten down to $1,250; council paid $700 of it and let the three committeemen pay the $550.

There were two plans. One was to build a high bank from the edge of the water between the two rivers, and the other to follow the W. & A. railroad down the Etowah and around to the Broad Street station, putting the railroad tracks on the top of the bank. The first was considered too expensive and the point was raised that crawfish would gnaw through the bank and cause it to crumble. The railroad, it is said, failed to concur in the second plan, so nothing was done except to pay the engineering bill and take two interesting maps which the gentlemen from Washington had drawn.

Not only were the people awakened to the necessity of curbing the high waters, but they declared, "It is time Rome was going out and getting more people, more industries, more prosperity. Let us form an association which will herald to the world the glories and advantages of Rome and Floyd County!"

The idea spread like the measles. Everybody took it up, especially the financial leaders. Result: The Rome Land Co., which dealt in land and a hundred other things. In February, 1887, this company was formed with J. W. Rounsaville as president, Jos. L. Bass, general manager, and Jno. H. Reynolds treasurer. Judge Branham and numerous other Romans joined in, until the $1,000,000 capital stock was well gobbled up in a short time. It was the biggest boom Rome had ever experienced.

In an anniversary book issued October 2, 1888, by the Tribune-of-Rome under the direction of John Temple Graves, editor, and Jno. G. Taylor, business manager, we find the following description of the company's activities :

"The company purchased nearly 2,500 acres of the city's best suburban land, and vigorously began the work of development. The property of the Rome Street Railroad Company was at once acquired, and its lines extended through the lands of the company. Steam motors were installed, and this was the first dummy line ever started in Georgia. Only Baldwin's best motors and Brill's best cars were used, and the equipment was of the finest. These steam ti-ains have been in use here more than twelve months - a part of the time in operation on the main thoroughfares of the city - and they have given eminent satisfaction. Nothing does more to advertise a city of enterprise than the operation of well-equipped dummy trains on its principal streets, and the company, realizing this, will extend its lines into every portion of the city wherever practicable.

"The company bought 2,000 acres of land in a body on the south side of the city, adjoining East Rome, its northern boundary being about a mile from the business center of Rome, and traversed by Silver Creek. The popularity of this land has been established in the sale of more than $50,000 in lots and the erection of a number of handsome homes. Nature has shaped a goodly area on this land for a park. There is a natural basin of several acres in which a lake has been constructed which is fed by five large springs. This park is the present terminus of the dummy line on this side of the city. (Author's Note - Reference is to DeSoto Park, formerly Mobley Park).

"The company owns 500 acres of land in one body west of Rome, threeeighths of a mile from the center of the city, and to make this accessible has recently opened to the public an elegant iron draw bridge across the Oostanaula River at the foot of Howard Street (Second Avenue), {at a cost of $20,000, and has also graded and macadamized at its own expense a splendid road to its own railroad depot in the heart of this property. The dummy line will run to this depot before the ides of March have come and gone. The erection of and opening of this bridge is but one of the many valuable works which this company has done for the public.

"A year ago, when the great Piedmont Exposition at Atlanta invited the exhibit of the products and resources of the South Atlantic and Gulf States, Floyd County, for herself, was silent. It was known that to enter so large a field of competition with a shadow of a hope of championship would require the outlay of large sums of money, supplemented with a vast deal of systematic and laborious work. In the absence of any answer from the county, the Rome Land Co., in the name of and for the county, undertook the task, knowing that should the undertaking prove a success, its credit would go to the county, while a failure would be set down against the company.

"The grand prize of the exposition, offered to the county making the largest and best display of agricultural products, was $1,000 in cash. The valleys of the Coosa, Etowah and the Oostanaula were put upon their mettle, and for the county they bore aloft the banner and captured the handsome award. Also, the first prize for the best bale of cotton was awarded to Floyd, and so it was in the case of hay, wheat, corn, oats, potatoes, gi'apes, wine, cattle, hogs, etc., etc.

"Great interest centered in the mineral exhibit, a new field for Floyd County. Our best-informed citizens had no conception of the great wealth that lay at our very doors. The mineralogist had to go only a short distance beyond the city limits to gather his materials for the contest. That our county secured the first premium against the efforts of boastful Birmingham, ambitious Anniston, hopeful Gadsden and other pretentious cities and counties naturally aroused the pride of our citizens, the wonder of people in the mineral districts of North Alabama and Tennessee, and the anxious inquiry of Eastern investors. Since the exposition, a large amount of money has flowed into the county, attracted by the superb qualities of the iron ore and manganese exhibited on that occasion.

"Finally, the first premium for the fullest and best display of forest products was awarded to Floyd County. With 42 prizes and premiums, Floyd County scored almost a clean sweep.

"The Armstrong Hotel idea was born in the office of the Rome Land Co., and Capt. R. T. Armstrong, the builder, was attracted to Rome from Birmingham by the activities of the company. The Tribune-of-Rome and a large number of factories may be said to have received their inspiration from the activities of this wide-awake development concern."

The Calhoun-Williamson

THE CALHOUN-WILLIAMSON DUEL. - The people of Georgia and of Alabama and the governors of the two states - Jno. B. Gordon and Tom Seay - were furnished with quite an excitement in 1889 through a duel between Patrick Calhoun, railroad attorney, later prominent in street railway affairs of Cleveland, O., and California, and Capt. Jno. D. Williamson, railroad construction genius, a native of Whitfield County and .at the time stated a casual resident of Rome.

The prominence of the principals and the issue between them accentuated the interest in their affair. Mr. Calhoun's grandfather was John C. Calhoun, the South Carolina statesman. Capt. Williamson was also a man of education and remarkable will; he had spent four years in railroad development in Mexico, and had come back to Rome to develop her transportation enterprises, and had started the Rome dummy line as the first in the state. He lived part of his time at the Armstrong Hotel; his interests called him away frequently and he nearly always traveled in his private car.

A tilt before the railroad committee of the Georgia Legislature at Atlanta led to the trouble. Mr. Calhoun stated that Capt. Williamson had solicited him to become leading counsel for the C. R. & C. railroad, hoping to use the Calhoun influence to unload that property on the Central of Georgia. Capt. Williamson was present and denounced this statement as a falsehood. Correspondence transmitted through the hands of friends failed to bring an understanding, and they agreed to fight it out with pistols at the Alabama line. A boundary line was convenient because duelists could often step from one state into another and avoid arrest; incidentally, this was the last duel fought under the old style in the South.

That the duel was not fought on the line was due to the vigilance of Gov. Seay and Gov. Gordon, who kept the wires hot until a number of posses had been formed along the "border." They fought at the point of least resistance after several harrowing chases by the authorities; this was close to the R. & D. tracks, between Lawrence and Farill, Ala., on the Farill plantation, about three miles east of the place where Forrest captured Streight's men in 1863, four miles west of the Georgia line and 18 miles west of Rome.*

For The Young Folks There Is Great Fun

Although gi-eat care had been taken to keep the affair secret, the mothers and friends of several Romans who boarded Capt. Williamson's private car when it stopped a minute at Howard Street (Second Avenue) knew that something unusual was going on. A sudden demand was created for locomotives, due to the fact that at Chattanooga junction, about two miles west of Rome, two of the newspaper correspondents, Hurtel and Barrett* were diplomatically kicked off the train, and had to foot it back to town. Capt. Seay and Dr. J. B. S. Holmes assisted in getting Engineer W. T. Dozier off the dummy line and in charge of an engine. R. L. Haire and his brother, Paul Haire, rushed to Forrestville (North Rome) and fired up the "Daniel S. Printup," the first engine built for the Selma, Rome & Dalton railroad. Evidently The Journal and The Constitution were determined not to be "scooped," and each representative had a pocket full of money to charter trains or anything else.

"The Printup" and the Dozier engine (believed to have belonged to the Rome railroad) , reached Chattanooga Junction about the same time, and there they found the Williamson engine and coach held up because the engineer was a stranger to the road. The newcomers proposed that they would furnish plenty of engines and engineers just so they were allowed to sit on the soft plush of Capt. Williamson's private coach. The offer was accepted, and the duelling lions and the journalistic lambs lay down together. Capt. Seay and Mr. Taylor came in when the bars were let down.

Fortunately, nobody was hurt by the duel. Mr. Calhoun thought he was to fire one shot, then look above his smoke to see the result, and if there was no hit, to blaze away again. Capt. Williamson's understanding was that they were to fire at will, hence his weapon stuttered five times, also without hitting the mark. Then Capt. Williamson's gun was empty, and Mr. Calhoun held four balls in reserve. What Mr. Calhoun did with his perfectly good four balls is told hereafter. Capt. Williamson had stood close to a slender pine sapling, and Mr. Calhoun's single shot had knocked bark into his face. Undoubtedly the next shot would have laid the Roman out. It was never fired.

Some mischievous persons sought to represent the fight as a sham affair, particularly a "champagne lark." It is true that Mr. Barrett got a bottle of wine from the train porter, and offered the others some going down. It is also true that the physicians ordered their champions to calm their nerves. Maybe some of the stuff was left for the return trip ; at any rate, Pat Calhoun and Jno. D. Williamson and everybody else were fast friends ere dark had settled on the expectant countryside. John Temple Graves took the position editorially that the affair was full of honor and that both principals acquitted themselves admirably. The duel was the subject of gossip for a long time; then duelling, already in a hopeless decline, petered out altogether.

For details the reader is invited to wade into the accounts by Barrett and Hurtel. Bruffey came to the duel walking on a crutch and at it got a finger shot off by accident, hence Bruffey relied on his colleague to do the heavy work. Hurtel's story appeared in The Atlanta Journal of Monday afternoon, Aug. 12, 1889. It is preceded by the correspondence between the principals.

Dear Sir: - Before the railroad com.- mission of the house of representatives this afternoon, in the discussion of the Olive bill, you characterized certain statements which had been made by me as false. I request an unqualified retraction of this charge.

This communication will be handed to you by my friend, Mr. Harry Jackson,** who is authorized to receive the reply which you may see proper to make. Respectfully,

Pat Calhoun

*Mr. Hurtel died in 1921 at Atlanta, and Mr. Barrett (then proprietor of The Age- Herald) at Birmingham in July, 1922. Mr. Bruffey, the other Atlanta scribe, died in Atlanta Friday, November 26, 1920. For many years afterward Mr. Hurtel was on The Constitution, to which he contributed a rare column called "Police Matinee Pen Shots," and was Recorder Pro Tem. of the Atlanta police court when he died.

Henry Jackson. You stated before the committee that I had solicited you to act as general counsel of the Chattanooga, Rome & Columbus Railroad Company, and that my purpose was to unload that road upon the Central Railroad Company of Georgia through your influence. This statement carried with it a reflection upon myself. It was without foundation, and I promptly pronounced it false. So long as this language, used by you, is not withdrawn, I must decline to make the retraction which you request.

9 this morning. I cannot consent to a discussion of the correctness of a statement made by me before the railroad committee of the house, so long as your charge of falsehood stands. I must, therefore, repeat my request that you make an unqualified retraction of this charge.

Dear Sir: - Your note of this morning was delivered to me at 10:45 a. m. My communication of last evening was delivered to Mr. Henry Jackson about

10 p. m., and of course I do not know why it did not reach you before 9:30 this a. m. I have nothing to add to my communication of last evening, except to repeat that I decline to comply with your request for the reason stated in that communication.

Dear Sir: - Your communication of this date has just reached me. In reply I would ask that you name some place without the limits of the state

Dear Sir: - I am just in receipt of your last note. As you know, Atlanta is not my home. I only requested Hon. J. Lindsay Johnson to act temprarily to prevent delay. A friend who has been fully authorized to represent me has telegraphed that he will be here at 6:30 this p. m. I will then communicate with you for the purpose of arranging the continuation of this correspondence outside of this state.

Dear Sir: - My friend, Mr. J. King, of Rome, Ga., has arrived, and has been put in possession of contents of the correspondence between us. In conformity with your request in your last note delivered at 1:05 p. m. today, I will meet you in Alabama, at Cedar Bluff, on the Rome and Decatur Railroad, tomorrow (Saturday) afternoon, at 5 o'clock. Unless I hear to the contrary, I shall expect to find you there at that hour.

Captain John D. Williamson and Mr. Pat Calhoun fought a duel Math pistols Saturday night at thirty-five minutes past seven o'clock on the Rome and Decatur Railroad somewhere near the state line, probably in Alabama.

Prominent Hgures In The Duel

Top, Jno. Temple Graves, "editorial observer;" Capt. Jno. D. Williamson, principal, and below him. Jack King, his second; Dr. J. B. S. Holmes, who obtained an engine, and W. T. Dozier, engineer; Dr. Henry H. Battey (in skull cap), Capt. Williamson's physician; Pat Calhoun, principal, and below him, Capt. Henry Jackson, his second; Gordon Noel Hurtel and Edward C. Bruffey, representatives, respectively, of The Journal and The Constitution.

lowed the Williamson party from Atlanta. But for the lateness of the hour, nearly eight o'clock, and the remoteness of the place from a telegraph station, the full particulars would have appeared in Saturday evening's extra. The first authentic news which reached the city Saturday night was wired by The Journal representative, but it reached Atlanta too late to be used.

"Follow the Williamson party and don't lose sight of them until the duel is fought or the men make friends," were my instructions when I left The Journal office Saturday morning.