Rome, Georgia - History (part 8 of 17)

Perhaps the most far-seeing man devoted to the interests of Rome that ever lived in our midst was William Smith. He was of great energy and very full capacity, with the will and courage of Andrew Jackson - warm in his friendships and attachments. He saw at an early day the prospective commercial importance of Rome. He was very far in advance of the place and the people. He caused to be projected and built the first steamboat. He was born to command and generally had at least one-half of the voters of the county under his control. He was often honored with positions of trust by the people of the county, and was once state senator. He died at comparatively an early age. He was a close and intimate friend of Col. Alfred Shorter.

Of the earliest settlers, few if any remain - alas, alas! they have gone to that bourne whence no traveler returns! Melancholy reflection! The writer knew them all - they were his friends and are now in the grave.

Among the later settlers were Wm. H. Underwood, Dr. H. V. M. Miller, A. D. Shackelford, Wm. T. Price, R. S. Norton, Wm. E. Alexander, Pentecost and Ihly, the Alexanders, the Smith family. Col. Alfred Shorter and Wade S. Cothran, active-minded and public-spirited men.

A. B. Ross, clerk of the Superior Court, the father of our present clerk, was here at an early day. He held the office of clerk until his death, and was as good a man as ever lived in the county.

Jobe Rogers, John DeJournett, Ewell Meredith and the Berryhills were sterling men. The Rev. Geo. White, of Savannah, Ga., published two books, history and statistics of Georgia, and there is very little said of Floyd County. Floyd is now the fifth or sixth county in point of population, and Rome is the sixth city in the state. The future of Rome is very promising. The growth has been gradual and it is a remarkable fact that Rome has built up by money made in the place principally. Very little capital from abroad has been used.

Rome ought to be the gi'eat manufacturing, commercial and financial center of this northwest Georgia. We have considerable manufacturing interests here now, and with the ore, slate, marble, and other precious and valuable stones near enough to us, the future of Rome must be upward and onward.

There is no collision of interests between Rome, Dalton, Rockmart and Cartersville. The interest of one is the interest of the whole. Let there be no jealousy and no rivalry. Let each and all push forward the wheel of our progress, and make this section in point of fact and development what the god of nature intended, the most prosperous and lovely section of this great country.

AN OLD RAMBLER. - The following Floyd County humor is from Bill Arp's Scrap Book, Chapt. 1, The Original Bill Arp, by Chas. H. Smith, Atlanta, Jas. P. Harrison & Co., 1884:

"Some time in the spring of 1861, when the boys were hunting for a fight and felt like they could whip all creation, Mr. Lincoln issued a proclamation ordering us all to disperse and retire within 30 days, and to quit cavorting around in a hostile and belligerent manner. I remember writing an answer to it, though I was a good Union man and a law-abiding citizen, and was willing to disperse, if I could, but it was almost impossible, for the boys were mighty hot, and the way we made up our military companies was to send a man down the lines with a bucket of water to sprinkle 'em as he came to 'em, and if a fellow sizzed like hot iron in a slack-trough, we took him, and if he didn't sizz, we dident take him; but still, nevertheless, notwithstanding, and so forth, if we could possibly disperse in 30 days we would do so, but I thought he had better give us a little more time, for I had been out in an old field and tried to disperse myself and couldent quite do it.

"I thought the letter was pretty smart, and read it to Dr. Miller and Judge Underwood, and they seemed to think it was right smart too. About that time I looked around and saw Bill Arp standing at the door with his mouth open and a merry glisten in his eye. As he came forward, says he to me, 'Squire, are ye gwine to print that?'

"'I reckon I will, Bill,' said L 'What name are ye gwine to put to it?' said he. 'I havent thought about a name.' Then he brightened up and said, 'Well, Squire, I wish you would put mine, for them's my sentiments!' And I promised him that I would.

"So I did not rob Bill Arp of his good name, but took it on request, and now at this late day, when the moss has covered his grave, I will record some pleasant memories of a man whose notoriety was not extensive, but who filled up a gap that was open, and who brightened up the flight of many an hour in the good old time, say from 20 to 30 years ago.

"Bill Arp was a small, sinewy man, weighing about 130 pounds, as active as a cat, as quick in movement as he was active, and always presenting a bright, cheerful face. He had an amiable disposition, a generous heart and was as brave a man as nature makes. He was an humble man and unlettered in books; never went to school but a month or two in his life, and could neither read nor write; but Jtill, he had more than his share of common sense, more than his share of ingenuity, and plan and contrivance, more than his share of good motherwit and humor, and was always welcome when he came about.

"Lawyers and doctors and editors, and such gentlemen of leisure as who used to, in the good old times, sit around and chat and have a good time, always said, 'Come in, Bill, and take a seat.' And Bill seemed grateful for the compliment, and with a conscious humility squatted on about half the chair and waited for questions. The bearing of the man was one of reverence for his superiors and thankfulness for their notice.

"Bill Arp was a contented man - contented with his humble lot. He never grumbled or complained at anything; he had desires and ambitions, but they did not trouble him. He kept a ferry for a wealthy gentleman who lived a few miles above Rome, on the Etowah River, and he cultivated a small portion of his land; but the ferry was not of much consequence, and when Bill could step off to Rome and hear the lawyers talk, he would turn over the boat and poles to his wife or children, and go. I have known him to take a back seat in the courthouse for a day at a time and with a face all greedy for entertainment, listen to the learned speeches of the lawyers and charge of the court, and

The Original Bill Arp Testing The Rome Boys For War Duty

"Bill Arp's" book, "Peace Papers," tells how the recruiting officers at Rome poured water on candidates who were hot over Mr. Lincoln's "disarmament proclamation." If "sizzling" resulted, they were sworn in. The author's several books reflect vividly the humorous incidents and philosophy of the times.

go home happy, and be able to tell to his admiring family what Judge Underwood said and what Judge Wright said, and what Col. Alexander said, and what the judge on the bench said; and if there was any fun in anything that was said, Bill always got it, and never forgot it. When court was not in session, he still slipped off to town and would frequent the lawyers' offices and listen to 'em talk, and the brighter the talk, the

"He had the greatest reverence for Col. Johnston, his landlord, and always said he would rather belong to him than to be free; 'for,' said he, 'Mrs. Johnston throws away enough old clothes and vittles to support my children, and they are always nigh enough to pick 'em up.'

"Bill Arp lived in Chulio district.* We had eleven districts in the county, and they had all such names as Pop- Skull, and Blue Gizzard, and Wolf- Skin, and Shake-Rag, and Wild-Cat, but Bill lived and reigned in Chulio. Every district had its best man in those days, and Bill was the best man in Chulio. He could out-run, out-jump, out-swim, out' rastle, out-ride, out-shoot anybody in Chulio, and was so far ahead that everybody else had given it up, and Bill reigned supreme. He put on no airs about this, and his neighbors were all his friends.

"But there was another district adjoining, and it had its best man, too. One Ben McGinnis ruled the boys of that beat, and after a while it began to be whispered around that Ben wasn't satisfied with his limited territory, but would like to have a small tackle with Bill Arp. Ben was a pretentious man. He weighed about 165 pounds, and was considered a regular bruiser; and he, too, like Bill Arp, had never been whipped. When Ben hit a man, it was generally understood that he meant business, and his adversary was hurt, badly hurt, and Ben was glad of it, and vain of it. But when Bill Arp hit a man he was sorry for him, and if he knocked him down, he would rather help him up and brush the dirt off his clothes than swell around in triumph. Fighting was not very common with either. The quicker a man whips a fight, the less often he has to do it, and both Ben and Bill had settled their standing most effectually. Bill was satisfied with his honors, but Ben was not, for there was many a Ransy Sniffle** who lived along the line between the districts and carried news from the one to the other, and made up the coloring, and soon it was norated around that Ben and Bill had to meet and settle it.

"The court grounds of that day consisted of a little shanty and a shelf. The shanty had a dirt floor and a puncheon seat and a slab for the Squire's docket, and the shelf was outside for the whisky. The whisky was kept in a jug - a gallon jug - and that held just about enough for the day's business. Most everybody took a dram in those days, but very few took too much, unless, indeed, a dram was too

'According to Miss Virginia C. Hardin, of Atlanta, Chulio was called after an Indian subchief who lies buried on the Stubbs place, adjoining the Hardin plantation, near Kingston.

much. It was very uncommon to see a man drunk at a county court ground. Pistols were unknown, bowie-knives were unknown, brass knuckles and sling-shots were unknown, and all other devices that gave one man an artful advantage over another. The boys came there in their shirt sleeves and galluses, and if they got to quarreling, they settled it according to nature.

"When Col. Johnston, who was Bill Arp's landlord, and Maj. Ayer*** and myself got to Chulio, Bill Arp was there, and was pleasantly howdying with his neighbors, when suddenly we discovered Ben McGinnis trapoosing around, and every little crowd he got to, he would lean forward in an insolent manner and say, 'Anybody here got anything agin Ben McGinnis? Ef they have, I golly, I'll give 'em five dollars to hit that; I golly, I dare anybody to hit that,' and he would point to his forehead with an air of defiance.

"Bill Arp was standing by us, and I thought he looked a little more serious than I had ever seen him. Frank Ayer says to him, 'Bill, I see that Ben is coming around here to pick a fight with you, and I want to say that you have got no cause to quarrel with him, and if he comes, do you just let him come and go, that's all.' Col. Johnston says, 'Bill, he is too big for you, and your own beat knows you, and you haven't done anything against Ben, and so I advise you to let him pass - do you hear me?'

"By this time. Bill's nervous system was all in a quiver. His face had an air of rigid determination, and he replied humbly, but firmly, 'Col. John- stone, I love you, and I respect you, too; but if Ben McGinnis comes up here outen his beat, and into my beat, and me not havin' done nothin' agin him, and he dares me to hit him, I'm gwine to hit him, if it is the last lick I ever strike. I'm no phist puppy dog, sir, that he should come outen his deestrict to bully me.'

"I've seen Bill Arp in battle, and he was a hero. I've seen him when shot and shell rained around him, and he was cool and calm, and the same old smile was on his features. I've seen him when his first-born was stricken down at Manassas, and he was near enough to see him fall headforemost to the foe, but I never have seen him as intensely excited as he was that moment when Ben McGinnis approached us, and addressing himself to Bill Arp, said, 'I golly, I dare anybody to hit that!'

"As Ben straightened himself up. Bill let fly with his hard, bony fist right in his left eye, and followed it up with another. I don't know how it was, and never will know; but I do know this, that in less than a second. Bill had him down and was on him, and his fists and his elbows and his knees seemed all at work. He afterward said that his knees worked on

Ben's bread basket, which he knew was his weakest part. Ben hollered enough in due time, which was considered honorable to do, and all right, and Bill helped him up and brushed the dirt off his clothes, and said, 'Now, Ben, is it all over 'twixt you and me; is you and me all right?' And Ben said, 'It's all right 'twixt you and me. Bill; I give it up, and you are a gentleman.' Bill invited all hands up to the shelf, and they took a drink, and Bill paid for the treat as a generous victor, and he and Ben were friends.

"I was not at the big wrestle between Bill Arp and Ike McCoy, and had heard so many versions of it that one night, while we were sitting around the camp fire in Virginia, I insisted on hearing it from Bill's own lips. Said he, 'Well, gentlemen (he always accented the vien) , my motto has been to never say die, as Ginrul Jackson said at the Battle of New Orleans, and all things considered, I have had a power of good luck in my life. I don't mean money luck by no means, for most of my life I've been so ded pore that Lazarus would have resigned in my favor, but I've been in a heap of close places, and somehow always come out right-side-up with care.

" 'You see, Ike McCoy was perhaps the best rasler in all Cherokee, and he just hankered after a chance to break a bone or two in my body. Now, you know I never hunted for a fight nor a fuss in my life, but I never dodged one. I didn't want a tilt with Ike, for my opinion was that he was the best man of the two, but I never said anything, but just trusted to luck.

" 'We was both at the barbycu, and he put on a heap of airs, and strutted around with his shirt collar open clean down to his waist, and his hat cocked on one side of his head, as sassy as a Confederate quartermaster. He took a dram, and then stuffed himself full of fresh meat at dinner. Along in the evening it was norated around that Ike was going to banter me for a rassle, and shore enuf, he did. The boys were all up for some fun, and Ike got on a stump and hollered out, 'I'll bet ten dollars I can plaster the length of any man on the ground, and I'll give Bill Arp five dollars to take the bet!'

" 'Of course, there was no gettin' around the like of that. The banter got my blood up, and so, without waitin' for ceremony, I shucked myself and went in. The boys was all powerfully excited, and was a bettin' every dollar they could raise, and Bob Moore, the feller I had licked about a year before, said he'd bet twenty dollars to ten that Ike would knock the breath outen me the first fall. I borrowed the money from Col. Johnston, and walked over to him and said, 'I'll take that bet!'"

" 'The river''' was right close to the spring, and the bank was purty steep. I had on an old pair of copprass britches that had been seined in and dried so often they was about half rotten. When we hitched, Ike took good britches-holt and lifted me up and down a few times like I was a child. He was the heaviest, but I had the most spring in me, and so I jest let him play around for some time, limber like, until suddenly he took a notion to -make short work of it with one of his back-leg trip movements. He drawed me up to his body and lifted me into the air with a powerful twist. Jest at that minit his back was close to the river bank, and as my feet teched the ground, I give a tremendous jerk backwards and a shove forwards, and my britches split plum open in the back and tore clean offen my bread basket, and Ike fell from me

" 'Sich hollerin' as them boys done I reckon never was hearn before in all them woods. I jumped in and helped Ike out as he riz to the top. He had took in a quart or so of water right on top of his whisky and barbycu, and as he set upon the bank, it all come forth like a dost of ippecack. When he gotten over it he laughed sorter weakly and said Sally Ann told him afore he left home he had better let Bill Arp alone, for nobody could run against his luck. Ike always believed he would have thrown me if britches holt hadent broke, and I reckon he would. One thing is certain; it cured Ike of braggin', and it cured Bob Moore of bettin', and that was a good thing.'

"Bill was full of mischief and his indulgence in practical ' jokes sometimes led him into trouble, but he always managed to get out. Col. Johnston says that one time a young man stayed over night at his house, and had occasion to cross the ferry next morning. He was from Charleston, and had on a pair of fine boots and a fashionable hat and a white vest and kid gloves, and was altogether quite dandy-like in his appearance. Bill came over with the ferry boat and eyed the man with a look of surprise and contempt. The young man asked him if his boat was entirely safe, and insisted on having every drop of water bailed out for fear of muddying his boots. Bill showed great alacrity in complying, and when the boat was nearly across, and the young man was standing near the gunnel, looking down into the water, the long pole that Bill was managing came suddenly against his shoulders and keeled him overboard. Bill did not hesitate a moment, but jumped in after him, and quickly pulled him up into the boat again. The youth was dreadfully alarmed and grateful for his safe deliverance. He went back again to the Colonel's house for some dry clothes, but before he left he insisted on rewarding Bill for saving his life, but Bill modestly refused to receive anything.

"When we went into camp near Manassas, while Gen. Wm. M. Gardner, later of Eome, was in command, Bill took the general a lot of beautiful honey, which was highly appreciated, and while he was enjoying it at the breakfast table an old man came up and in pitiful language informed him how some soldiers came to his house last night and robbed him of all his honey, twelve hives in all, and they worth five dollars apiece, and now he was a ruint man, and the girls couldn't git no clothes, and the cofee was out, and the old 'oman was sick, and so forth.

"The general was a West Pointer and a strict constructionist, and he was proud of his regiment; so that evening at dress parade he made them a nice little speech about a soldier's honor, and about this honey business, and wound up by saying that he didn't know who stole the honey, and didn't want to know, and he wasn't going to try to find out, but he wanted every man who was willing to help pay the old man for his loss to step five paces to the front.

"Bill Arp was the first man to step out; he threw up his hat and hollered 'Hurrah for Ginrul Gardner!' The whole regiment stepped forward and joined in cheers for their noble general, while Bill, without waiting for orders, went down the line with his hat, saying, 'Put in, boys, put in; the general is right; let's pay the old man and git the gals some clothes. I golly, the gals must have some clothes!'

"While in camp at Centerville during the bitter winter of 1861-2, the orders against contraband whisky were very strict, but still, the soldiers managed somehow to keep in pretty good spirits. One day a six-horse team from Page County drove into camp, loaded down with sixteen barrels of very fine apples. The hind gate was taken off and a barrel set down and the head knocked in, and the boys bought them quite freely. After a while another barrel was set down, and in course of time Col. Jno. R. Towers, another noble Roman, of the Miller Rifles, observed that Bill and some others were quite hilarious, and he suspected there was something wrong about that wagon, and procured an order from Gen. Sam Jones to examine it. On inspection he found there was a five gallon keg of apple brandy in each of six of the barrels, and the kegs were packed around with apples. The general ordered a confiscation. He sent a keg to each of the five regimental hospitals, and had the sixth keg sent to his tent and put under his cot.

"Bill Arp did not seem to be pleased with the distribution, and wagged his head ominously. He was on the detail that was to guard the general's headquarters that night; and so, the next morning, when the general concluded to sample the brandy, and sent down for a few of us to come up and join him in a morning cocktail, he discovered that the keg was gone. Col. Towers was there, and sent for a list of the guard, and when he saw Bill Arp's name, he quietly remarked, *I understand it now.' All doubts were removed; no search was made, for the general enjoyed the joke; but that night the keg was replaced under his cot with about half its original contents. Bill said he was always willing to 'tote fair and divide with his friends.'

"This is enough of Bill Arp - the original simon pure. He was a good soldier in war, the wit and wag of the camp-fires, and made many a home-sick youth laugh away his melancholy. He was a good citizen in peace. When told that his son was dead, he showed no surprise, but simply said, 'Major, did he die all right?' When assured that he did, Bill wiped away a falling tear and said, 'I only wanted to tell his mother.'

heroines. I have seen all sorts, and so has most everybody who was in the war, but I never saw a more devoted heroine than Bill Arp's wife. She was a very humble woman, very, but she loved her husband with a love that was passing strange. I don't mean to say that any woman's love is passing strange, but I have seen that woman in town, three miles from her home, hunting around by night for her husband, going from one gi'ocery to another and in her kind, loving voice inquiring 'Is William here?' or 'Do you know where William is?'

"Blessings on that poor woman ! I have almost cried for her many a time. Poor William - hcJw she loved him! How tenderly would she take him when she found him, and lead him home, bathe his head and put him to bed. She always looked pleased and thankful when asked about him, and would say, 'He is a good little man, but you know he has his failings.'

"BIG JOHN" UNDERWOOD. - " 'Big John' was one of the earliest settlers of Rome, and one of her most notable men. For several years he was known by his proper name of John H. Underwood, but when John W. H. Underwood moved there, he was identified by his superior size and gradually lost his surname, and was known far and near as 'Big John.' Col. Jno. W. H. Underwood, who came to be distinguished as a member of Congress, and afterward as a judge, was a man of large physique, weighing about 225 pounds, but 'Big John' pulled down the scales at a hundred pounds more, and had shorter arms and shorter legs, but his circumference was correspondingly immense. He was noted for his good humor. The best town jokes came from his jolly, fertile fancy, and his comments on men and things were always original, and as terse and vigorous as ever came from the brain of Dr. Johnson. He was a diamond in the rough. He had lived a pioneer among the Indians of the Cherokee, and it was said fell in love with an Indan maid, the daughter of old Testenuggee, a limited chief, and never married because he could not marry her. But if his disappointment preyed upon his heart, it did not prey upon the region that enclosed it, for he continued to expand his pro- portions. He was a good talker and earnest laugher. Whether he laughed and grew fat, or grew fat and laughed, the doctors could not tell ; which was cause and which was effect is still in doubt, but I have heard the wise men affirm that laughing was the fat man's safety valve, that if he did not laugh and shake and vibrate frequently, he would grow fatter and fatter until his epidermic cuticle could not contain his oleaginous corporosity. Dr. Chisolm, of Charleston, is said to have put this . matter beyond all dispute, for he had seen a fat man weighed but a few hours before Artemus Ward lectured in that city, .and this fat man laughed so hard and so continuously at Ward's wit that he overdone the thing, and died in his seat. The coroner sat upon him, and the doctor weighed him and found he had lost eighteen pounds of flesh that night - laughed it away, which would seem to settle the vexed question.

"Big John had no patience with the war, and when he looked upon the boys strutting around in uniform and fixing up their canteens and haversacks, he seemed as much disgusted as astonished. He sat in his big chair on the sidewalk in front of his grocery and liquor shop, and would remark, 'I don't see any fun in the like of that. Somebody is going to be hurt, and fightin' don't prove anything. Some of our best people in this town are kin to them fellers up North, and I don't see any sense in tearing up families by a fight.' He rarely looked serious or solemn, but the pending fight seemed to settle him. 'Boys,' said he, 'I hope to God this thing will be fixed up without a fight, for fighting is mighty bad business, and I never knowed it to do any good.'

"Big John had had a little war experience - that is, he had volunteered in a company to drive the Creeks and Cherokees to the far west in 1833, just 50 years ago. It was said that he was no belligerent then, but wanted to give the Indian maiden he loved a safe transit, and so he escorted the old chief and his clan as far as Tuscumbia, and then broke down and returned to Ross's Landing on the Tennessee River. He was too heavy to march, and when he arrived at the landing, a prisoner was put in his charge for safe-keeping. Ross's Landing is Chattanooga now, and John Ross once lived there, and was one of the chiefs of the Cherokees. The prisoner was Ross's guest, and his name was John Howard Payne. He was suspected of trying to instigate the Cherokees to revolt and fight, and not leave their beautiful forest homes on the Tennessee and Coosa and Oostanaula and Etowah and Connasauga rivers. He brought Payne back as far as New Echota, or New Town, as it was called, an Indian settlement on the Coosawattee, a few miles east of Calhoun, as now known. There he kept the author of 'Home, Sweet Home' under guard, or on his parole of honor, for three weeks, and night after night slept with him in his tent, and listened to his music upon the violin, and heard him sing his own sad songs until orders came for his discharge, and Payne started afoot on his way to Washington. He said Payne was much of a gentleman.

"Many a time have I heard Big John recite his sad adventures. 'It was a most distressive business,' said he. 'Them Injuns was heart-broken. I always knowed an Injun loved his hunting-ground and his rivers, but I never knowed how much they loved 'em before. You know, they killed Ridge for consentin' to the treaty. They killed him on the first day's march and they wouldn't bury him. We soldiers had to stop and dig a grave and put him away. John Ross and Ridge were the sons of two Scotchmen who came over here when they were young men and mixed up with these tribes and got their good will. These two boys were splendid looking men, tall and handsome, with long auburn hair, and they were active and strong, and could shoot a bow equal to the best bowman of the tribe, and they beat 'em all to pieces on the cross-bow. They married the daughters of the old chiefs, and when the old chiefs died they just fell into line and succeeded to the old chiefs' places, and the tribes liked 'em mighty well, for they were good men and made good chiefs.

" 'Well, you see, Ross didn't like the treaty. He said it wasn't fair, that the price of the territory was too low, and the fact is, he didn't want to go at all. There are the ruins of his old home over there now in DeSoto, close to Rome, and I tell you. Re was a king. His word was the law of the Injun nations, and he had their love and respect. His half-breed children were the purtiest things I ever saw in my life.

" 'Well, Ridge lived up the Oostanaula River about a mile, and he was a good man, too. Ross and Ridge always consulted about everything that was for the good of the tribes, but

Ridge was a more milder man than Ross, and was more easily persuaded to sign the treaty that gave the lands to the state, and to take other lands away out in Mississippi. You see, our state owned the territory then clean out to the Mississippi River.

" 'Well, when the whole thing seemed to be settled with the chiefs, we found that the Injuns wasn't goin' to move. We couldn't get 'em started. They raised a howl all over the settlements. It was just like the mourners at a camp meeting. The families would just set about and mourn. They wouldn't eat nor sleep, and the old squaws would sway backwards and forwards and mourn, and nobody could get 'em up.

" 'Well, it took us a month to get 'em all together and begin the march to the Mississippi, and they wouldn't march then. The women would go out of line and set down in the woods and go to grieving, and you may believe it or not, but I'll tell you what is a fact: we started for Tuscumbia with 14,000 and 4,000 of 'em died before we got to Tuscumbia. They died on the side of the road; they died of broken hearts; they died of starvation, for they wouldn't eat a thing. They just died all along the way. We didn't make more than five miles a day on the march, and my company didn't do much but dig graves and bury Injuns all the way to Tuscumbia. They died of grief and broken hearts, and no mistake.

" 'An Injun's heart is tender and his love is strong; it's his natur. I'd a rather risk an Injun for a true friend than a white man. He is the best friend in the world and the worst enemy. He has got more gratitude and more revenge in him than anybody. I remember that Dick Juhan swindled an Injun out of his pony, and that night the Injun stepped up to Vann's Valley and stole the pony out of the stable and carried him off, and Dick followed him next day and caught him and tied him, and brought him up to old Livingston before a magistrate. I was there and took the Injun's part and got him discharged; and he kept his pony, and he was so grateful to me that I couldn't get rid of him. He just followed me about like a nigger and waited on me; hunted for me and brought me squirrels and deer and turkeys, and when time came for 'em all to go west, he hung around camp and wouldn't leave me. When I left him at Tuscumbia, he cried and moaned and took on, and I don't reckin he ever got to the promised land.'

"Big John was a stout and active man, considering his weight. He was patriotic, too, and when he found that the fight had to come, he came up manfully to the cause and declared he was ready to join a buggy regiment and fight until they plugged him, which they were sure to do, he said, if they pinted any ways down South. When Joe Brown called for state volunteers, he responded promptly, and seemed proud that he was in the line of military service, and was enrolled on the Governor's staff. He said that he couldn't march, but he could set on one of the hills around Rome and guard the ramparts.

"Nevertheless, notwithstanding, it so turned out that old Joe got fighting mad after while and ordered all his staff and his militia to the front, and Big John had to go. The viewhe took of his new departure in military strategy will appear in the sequel, and also his remarkable retreat before the foul invader when Sherman took the Hill City and dispersed the home guard to remoter regions.

"Big John is dead. The last time I saw him he had lost his fat, and his old clothes were a world too big for him. He said he was juicing away so as to fit a respectable coffin and save a winding sheet or two in his shrouding. He owed no man anything and no man owed him a grudge. Fat men die like lean ones, but they rarely die fat. Their fat is their vitality. Fat men are generally good men, kind men, peaceable men, and they are honest. Their fat makes them goodnatured, and their good nature keeps them from swindling or cheating anybody. If I was thrown among strangers and wanted a favor, I would pass by all lean and hungi-y strangers and sit down by the biggest, roundest man I saw.

"Big John's special comfort was a circus. He never missed one, and it was a good part of the show to see him laugh and shake and spread his magnificent face. I saw the clown run from the ring-master's whip and take refuge close by Big John, and as he looked up in his face he said, 'You are my friend, ain't you?' and Big John smiled all over as he replied. 'Why, yes, of course I am.' 'Well,' then,' said the clown, 'if you are my friend, please lend me a half a dollar.' The crowd yelled tumultuously as Big John handed over the coin, and the joke of it was worth half a dollar to him.

"Big John took no pleasure in the quarrels of mankind, and never backed a man in a fight, but when two dogs locked teeth, or two bulls locked horns, or two game chickens locked spurs, he always liked to be about. 'It is their natur to fight,' said he, 'and let 'em fight.' He took delight in watching dogs and commenting on their sense and dispositions. He compared them to the men about town, and drew some humorous analogies. 'There is Jimmy Jones,' said he, 'who ripped and plunged around because Georgia wouldn't secede in a minute and a half, and he swore he was goin' over to South Calliny to fight; and when Georgia did secede shore enuf he didn't jine the army at all, and always had some cussed excuse, and when conscription come along, he got on a detail to make potash, con-ding 'im, and when that played out he got a couple of track dogs and got detailed to ketch runaway prisoners. Just so I've seen dogs run up and down the fence palings like they was dyin' to get to one nuther, and so one day I picked up my dog by the nap of the neck and dropped him over on the outside. I never knowed he could jump that fence before, but he bounced back like an Injun rubber ball, and the other dog streaked it do\vn the sidewalk like the dickens was after him. Dogs are like folks and folks are like dogs, and a heap of 'em want the palings between.

" 'Jack Bogin used to strut around and whip the boys in his beat, and kick 'em awful, because he knew he could do it, for he had the most mussle ; but he couldn't look a brave man in the eye, mussle or no mussle, and I've seen him shut up quick when he met one. A man has got to be right to be brave, and I'd rather see a bully get a lickin' than to eat sugar!'"

Author's Note - The above highly interesting and entertaining account contains a number of historical errors, particularly with regard to John Howard Payne and the Indians, against which the history lover should guard himself. It is well to remember that Big John was apt to depai't now and then from the path of historic rectitude.

"BILL ARP" TO "ABE LINKHORN." - Ma j. Chas. H. Smith wrote a saucy open letter from Rome to Abraham Lincoln at Washington on the eve of the opening of the Civil War. It was this letter which caused him to write thereafter under the pen name of "Bill Arp." The original Bill Arp happening along, Maj. Smith said, "This letter is so hot, I don't know whose name to sign to it!" Arp said: "Them's my sentiments. Major; just sign mine." And he did. The letter was widely copied and made Major Smith famous and uncomfortable as well. Here it is:"

"Mr. Linkhorn, Sur: These are to inform you that we are all well, and hope these lines may find you in statue ko. We received your proklamation, and as you have put us on very short notis, a few of us boys have conkluded to write you, and ax for a little more time. "The fact is, we are most obleeged to have a few more days, for the way things are happening, it is utterly onpossible for us to disperse in twenty days. Old Virginny, and Tennessee and North Carolina are continually aggravatin' us into tumults and carousements, and a body can't disperse until you put a stop to sich

Wherein Major Smith Tries His Hand At Farming

WHEREIN MAJOR SMITH TRIES HIS HAND AT FARMING. When "Bill Arp" emerged from the war, all he had was a bolt of cotton cloth and a hunk of gum opium, which he quickly swapped for food. He tried to raise vegetables for a while, and here he is seen turning a few furrows. His boys are enjoying the sport, and the eldest advises him to keep at the law.

onruly konduct on their part. I tried my darndest yisterday to disperse and retire, but it was no go; and besides, your marshal here isn't doing a darned thing - he don't read the riot act, nor remonstrate, nor nothing, and ought to be turned out. If you conklude to do so, I am authorized to rekummend to you Col. Gibbons or Mr. McLung, who would attend to the bizness as well as most anybody. "The fact is, the boys round here want watchin, or they'll take sumthin.

A few days ago I heard they surrounded two of our best citizens, because they was named Fort and Sumter. Most of 'em are so hot that they fairly siz when you pour water on 'em, and that's the way they make up their military companies here now - when a man applies to jine the volunteers, they sprinkle him, and if he sizzes, they take him, and if he don't they don't.

here among these bloods, and have to slope out of it, and I would like to have your Scotch cap and kloak that you traveled in to Washington. I suppose you wouldn't be likely to use the same disgize agin, when you left, and therefore I would propose to swap. I am five feet five, and could git my plow breeches and coat to you in eight or ten days if you can wait that long. I want you to write me immegitly about things generally, and let us know whereabouts you intend to do your fitin. Your proklamation says somethin about taking possession of all the private property at 'All Hazards.' We can't find no such place on the map. I thot it must be about Charleston, or Savannah, or Harper's Ferry, but they say it ain't anywhere down South. One man said it was a little Faktory on an iland in Lake Champlain, where they make sand bags. My opinun is that sand bisness won't pay, and it is a great waste of money. Our boys here carry there sand in there gizzards, where it keeps better, and is always handy. I'm afeered your government is givin you and your kangaroo a great deal of onnecessary trubbul, and my humble advice is, if things don't work out better soon, you'd better grease it, or trade the darned old thing off. I'd show you a slite-of-hand trick that would change the whole concern into buttons quick. If you don't trade or do sumthin with it soon, it will spile or die on your hands, sertain.

"P. S. - If you can possibly extend that order to 30 days, do so. We have sent you a check at Harper's Ferry (who keeps that darnd old ferry now? It's givin us a heap of trubble), but if you positively won't extend, we'll send you a check drawn by Jeff Davis, Borygard endorser, payable on sight anywhere.

"BILL ARP" AND THE LOTTERY. - We publish in another column a letter from the managers of a lottery establishment in Baltimore to Chas. H. Smith, Esq., of this place, and his reply. . . The public owes Mr. Smith a debt of gratitude for exposing this iniquitous scheme.

"Dear Sir: We take the liberty to enclose you a scheme of the Delaware State Lottery, for which we are general agents, our object being to try and sell you a prize so as to ci'eate an excitement in your locality that will tend to inci'ease our business. With this end in view, we offer you the preference to purchase a very finely arranged package of 25 tickets, which we have selected in the lottery drawing Feb. 11, Class 72. This package gives you the advantage of $31.25 worth of tickets for the cost of only $20; and to convince you of our confidence in its success, we will guarantee you another package of our extra lotteries free of charge if the above fails to draw a prize, the lowest being $200 (see full scheme within). We make this offer in good faith, with a desire to sell you the Capital, $37,- 000. Should you think favorably of it, enclose us $20, and the package will be sent by return mail, the result of which we confidently think will be satisfactory to you.

"Messrs. Gilbert & Co., Gents.: I acknowledge receipt of your kind letter of the 10th. I send you my note for $20, instead of the cash, as it will save exchange, and there is really no necessity of sending money to Baltimore and having it sent back again in a few days. This arrangement, I confidently think, will be satisfactory to you, for it is done in good faith.

"I really feel under many obligations that you have chosen me as the object of your liberality and do assure you that when that $37,000 prize comes to hand, the excitement which it will raise in this community will swallow up and extinguish the John Brown raid, and you will sell more tickets here than traveling circuses and monkey shows take off in 20 years. This is a good locality for such an experiment, for there is a vast number of clever people who are in the habit of racking their brains to devise some way to get money without working for it, and I know very well that when they are satisfied they can do so

"Our court is now in session, and I very much regret you are not here to lay your proposition before our Grand Jury, for I have no doubt they would properly appreciate it, and out of gratitude board you a while at public expense. Our legislature, in its generosity, passed a special act, (which may be found in the 11th division of the Penal Code) to compensate such honorable gentlemen as you seem to be.

"P. S. - A friend of mine has just shown me a letter from your firm to him, making him the same proposition which you have made to me; and he professed some suspicion, but I assured him that you knew we were intimate friends, and that we would divide the prize between us, or you thought that possibly one of us might be away from home.

"P. S. No. 2 - As I was about to mail this, another friend confided to me a similar letter to him. I am at a loss to know how to satisfy him. Please give me the dots.

The Note

"$20 - On demand I promise to pay Gilbert & Co. twenty dollars, provided the finely-arranged package of tickets which they have selected for me draws a prize of not less than $200.

"BILL ARP" ON ROME. - (By J. D. McCartney, in Rome Tribune-Herald, July 21, 1920). - Mrs. Harriet Connor Stevens came up from Cave Spring the other day and brought me some papers that had been the property of the lamented Prof. Wesley 0. Connor, her father. They are very interesting. One of them contains a speech of Samuel J. Tilden made in September of 18G8 that is well worth reading today. The others are the last issue of the Rome Courier and the first issue of the Tribune of Rome, bearing date of Oct. 2, 1887.

I shall have more to say about those papers from time to time, but the subject of today's sketch is an article in the "Southerner and Commercial," a tri-weekly bearing date of April 10, 1870. It is entitled "Ancient History of Modern Rome," and is from the talented pen of Major Chas. H. Smith ("Bill Arp"). Older Romans delighted to read Bill Arp's writings and I am sure the younger generation, too, will enjoy the style as well as the substance of his words about the beginnings of Rome, quotations from which follow :

"In the year 1832, the county of Floyd was laid off by the government surveyors, and in 1833 the county site was fixed at Livingston (a place about 12 miles distant, and situated near the South bank of the Coosa). A few houses wei-e built and one court held there by Judge John W. Hooper. About this time a number of the fortunate drawers in the land lottery were seeking to take forcible possession of the very homes of the Indians. Judge Hooper did not deem this just until the Indians were paid for their improvements, and he therefore granted many bills of injunction at the instance of Judge Wm. H. Underwood, the leading counsel for the tribe.

"In the year 1834 a Rome town company was formed, consisting of Z. B. Hargrove, Philip W. Hemphill, Wm. Smith and D. R. Mitchell. The upper portion of the town was surveyed and laid off into town lots. Favorable propositions were made by the company to the county authorities, and Rome was made the county site in 1835. The frames of some of the first houses erected were brought up from Livingston on keel boats, one of them occupied by Dr. G. W. Holmes, and another by Col. Sam Gibbons. The oldest house in the place is a small tenement next above the fire engine house. The first court was held by Judge Owen H. Kenan in a log cabin 16x18, erected on Academy Hill, and the grand jury held their first session in a lime sink a few rods distant. The diligence and energy of the town company, and the many advantages of the location, soon began to attract men of education and means and commercial influence. In a short time Rome became a market for a considerable extent of territory. Many of those who co-operated in giving vitality and impetus to the place are long since dead and gone, but as long as Rome has a record, the names of John H. Lumpkin, William Smith, Dennis Hills, Jobe

"In the days of these pioneers, Rome was but a hamlet. From a single point a school boy's bow could send an arrow beyond the farthest house. All that portion of the city now known as 'down town' was a stately forest of aged oaks, and the best society of Howard Street were the owls who hooted from their hollows. Until about the year 1850, Mr. Norton's store was the extreme Southern boundary of all improvements. The first hotel was kept by Francis Burke, in the house now occupied by Dr. Holmes. Not long after, James McEntee built and kept up a public house for many years. His blunt Scotch ancestry made him a universal favorite, and we are glad to know that he still lives near us in the enjoyment of good health. The hotel built by him is now known as the residence of Dr. J. B. Undei-wood. Euclid Waterhouse, a man well known in commercial circles, opened the first store in the place. Nathan Yarbrough, Judge Lamberth and David Rounsaville were his competitors in the mercantile business.

"Wm. Smith was the first sheriff of the county. In the year 1834 he had to perform the unpleasant duty of hanging two Indians, Barney Swimmer and Terrapin, found guilty of the murder of Ezekiel Blatchford (or Braselton). He represented this county in both branches of the General Assembly. He was defeated for re-election because of his bold and strenuous exertions to change the projected route of the Western & Atlantic (state) railroad between Chattanooga and Atlanta so as to include Rome. He was a man of wonderful energy and foresight, and it is universally conceded that he did more than any other person to insure the progress and prosperity of the little city. It was chiefly his influence that made Rome the county site; his urgent efforts that caused the building of the first steamboat, that projected the first railroad (the Rome), and that induced the coming of such men as Col. Alfred Shorter, A. M. Sloan, Wm. E. Alexander, John H. Lumpkin and others of like means and spirit. He died in 1850, and, as is too often the case, before the happy results of his foresight and energy were fully realized.

Marks are the old merchants who are still engaged in that occupation. Judge Kenan was succeeded by the following judges, in the order named: Turner H. Trippe, George D. Wright, John W. Hooper, John H. Lumpkin, Leander W. Crook, Dennis T. Hammond, L. H. Featherston, J. W. H. Underwood and Francis A. Kirby. John Townsend was the first foreman of the first grand jury, and the first bill of indictment found was against the Indians Choosakelqua and Teasalaka, charged with assault with intent to murder.

"From the year 1840 Rome continued to make substantial progress. In the year 1845 a steamboat was b.uilt at Greensport, Ala., by Capt. John Lafferty. For months the rude settlers in the adjacent counties had heard of the 'varmint,' as they called it, and when the time came for its first trip to the junction at Rome, the scattered inhabitants gathered in camps along the banks to see the 'varmint' go. When it did come, it was to these rude settlers a show equal to a circus. At one point, more than 100 people had congregated, the men all wearing coon-skin caps with coons' tails hanging down their backs. One very consequential and 'highly-educated' patriarch. Squire Bogan, of Cedar Bluff, Ala., stood forward to make a reconnoisance and give the crowd the benefit of his vast learning. He saw the large letters 'U. S. M.' painted on the wheelhouse, and underneath them the letters Coosa. He spelled it over carefully, letter by letter, in a loud tone of voice, and after a third effort, declared: 'I've got it, boys. Its name is Use 'em Susy!' The 'varmint' never got rid of this nom de plume. In the course of time, other steamboats were built, and a branch road from Kingston to Rome projected.

"Even the newspapers adopted the name. Bill Ramey and Tom Perry built a little boat that they said could snake its way through any shoal when the rivers were not a foot deep. In fact, Ramey used to swear his craft could run on dry land if there was a thick fog or heavy dew.

"From the days of steamboats and railroads the history of our city is too familiar to be rehearsed, but I will venture to remind you in closing these remarks that the lamps which have lit her pleasing progress have not always been brightly burning. There have been shadows, and still are shadows, which set in mourning the happy prosperity of our city. Dark lines are drawn around, and the stricken heart beats sadly the knell of our heroic dead. Noble sons, husbands and fathers are missing - missing- from here tonight. They have been long missing from the fireside and the forum, from the farm, the shop and the counting room, from court, church and hall."

TJhZ' ^""i"^' ^^^^"ded himse f and badly wounded the dog. The irate neighbor id: "if you had to use that pitchfork, why didn't you go at him with the other end?" The fSmer that he"^'''' 'T'^^ r' °f the fa?t friend L,^.' ^'''' brother's bosom 11 lend, and it was whispered that the Ohioan, highly diffident towaid the

When he was diplomatically sparrine for a snug place in Miss CeceHa's af fections (It may have been a straightout proposal), she said quite franfly

Joseph Hooker, of Massachusetts, a graduate of West Point in the class of 1837, was another who claimed many dances with Miss Cecelia and whose heart sank within him when she returned to her Southern home.

Still another was handsome Richard B Garnett, a West Point graduate in charge of the arsenal at Augusta, whose geographical position gave hini a decided advantage over the others and who got to the point of acceptance of his proposal. However, parental objection was raised, and Dick Garnett went to his death at Gettysburg in 18C3 with the image of lovely Cecelia Stovall graven on his heart; he had never married, and when the Grim Reaper cut him down he was a general and one of the bravest men in the army of Northern Virginia.

It may have been a coincidence that Wm. T. Sherman, then a lieutenant, was assigned in 1845 to detached duty at this same arsenal at Augusta; he may have wanted to see his old roommate, but more than likely he pined for sight of Miss Cecelia. However, if he sang the old love song over again, her answer was the same, and here was one citadel, at least, that an irrepressible West Pointer could not take by storm.

So with Dick Garnett, a noble son of old Virginia, who could trace his ancestry back to Adam; but he was on a salary that would little more than care for two. Miss Cecelia's proud parent, Pleasant Stovall, once a resident of Athens, desired that she should marry a man of wealth and influence. She was forbidden the pleasure of young Garnett's company and sent to visit relatives in South Carolina. There she met Capt. Chas. Shellman, whose suit was favored by daughter and parent, and so they were married.

Lieut. Sherman's stay in Augusta terminated abruptly; in 1850 he married _ his adopted father's daughter, Nellie Ewing, and his biographer recorded many years later that she was his "first love." Marcellus A. Stovall moved to Rome in 1846, and he was soon joined by his young half-brother, George T. Stovall, who became associate editor of the Rome Courier and was killed at First Manassas. Here the beautiful sister visited them often.

In 1861 Capt. Chas. Shellman built for his Augusta princess the mansion on the Etowah River, near Cartersville, known as "Shellman Heights." Three more years passed, until Sherman's army of human locusts swept down from Chattanooga, trampled on Rome and continued into Bartow County. As the torch brigade set fire to this establishment and that. Gen. Sherman's attention was directed by a fellow officer to a fine mansion on a hill. "Looks like the palatial retreat of an old plantation grandee," rem.arked this personage. Sherman and his staff went to the place and admired its Colonial columns and its atmosphere throughout. An old negro mammy sat on the front steps moaning her life away. "Oh, Ginrul, whut yo' gwme do? I sholy is glad Missus Cecelia ain't here to see it wid her own eyes!"

Momentarily he bowed his head, a lump formed in his throat, he swallowed hard and his eyes became moist. On learning from the old woman that Mrs. Shellman had sought safety in flight. Gen. Sherman ordered his plundering soldiers to restore everything they had taken, and he placed a guard to protect the premises. Then he said, "Auntie, you get word to your mistress that she will be perfectly safe in

On his card Gen. Sherman had written, "You once said I would crush an enemy, and you pitied my foe. Do you recall my reply? Although many years have passed, my answer is the same now as then, 'I would ever shield and protect you.' That I have done. Forgive me all else. I am only a soldier,

Later came Gen, Joseph Hooker, soon to be cited for bravery in the Battle of Atlanta. Learning the situation, he repeated the orders of Gen. Sherman, shed a tear over a boxwood hedge and departed on the chase which was the forerunner of the famous March to the Sea.

The armies gone. Miss Cecelia returned to Shellman Heights, gazed out over the winding Etowah, and breathed a prayer and a poem to friendship. There she passed the rest of her days. On Jan. 1, 1911, fire took Shellman Heights, uninsured, and today the spot is but a shadow of its former self, but it will always live in memory.

When Gen. Sherman approached Augusta from Savannah, the Augustans took their cotton out of the warehouses and burned it, anticipating that he would destroy everything when he arrived, and preferring to do a part of it themselves. The surprise of everybody was great, therefore, when Gen. Sherman made a detour across the Savannah River into South Carolina and left their beautiful city unmolested. There may have been military reasons, but Augusta folk to this day declare he spared the town because it had been the home of the heroine of his romance at West Point.

In 1915, faithful to a promise he had made to Miss Cecelia and to himself, old Uncle Josiah Stovall, the family slave and master's bodyguard, turned up at the G. A. R. reunion at Washington to thank Gen. Sherman for sparing the home. This old "Chesterfield in charcoal" carried a carpet bag grip, a heavy hickory cane, and wore a silk hat and a sleek broadcloth Prince Albert coat. His head and chin were full of African cotton and he attracted considerable attention as he tried to get out of the way of traffic. To a policeman he confided that he had come to find Gen. Sherman, and wanted to thank him "in pusson," and to claim a gift he vowed Sherman had promised him.

Martha Smith'S Political

MARTHA SMITH'S POLITICAL COUP. - In 1844 when pretty Martha Smith was 13 and riding a pony into town to school from her father's home on the Alabama Road, and was beginning to "dress up" and attract the boys, she was taken by Col. Smith on a trip to Milledgeville, then capital of the state. Colonel Smith was a member of the Legislature and as an ardent Whig was boosting the stock of Zachary Taylor for President. He was to make a speech at the town hall or opera house, and various speakers were to tell the virtues of Taylor to his Baldwin County friends and any others who might wish to be enlightened. Now, the indulgent father had bought his daughter a beautiful new hat, of which she was highly proud. He left her shortly before the meeting with a friend stopping at the hotel and the friend escorted her through the town square to a seat in the front of the hall. As the chairman rapped for order and introduced Colonel Smith, and a few enthusiasts yelled "Hurrah for Taylor and the Whig Party!" Miss Martha strode down the aisle. She was dressed in a becoming pink and blue frock, and her new hat was the cause of an uproar. Colonel Smith looked embarrassed; halted for a moment, and a wag rose in his seat and yelled, "Hurrah for Polk and the Democrats!"

Miss Martha, being for Polk and having that afternoon raced through the nearby stubble fields, had trimmed her bonnet in a garland of pokeberries. The meeting bi-oke up in confusion ; Polk eventually got the nomination and was elected. The irate father did not speak to his little daughter for a week.

Jefferson Davis Arrested

JEFFERSON DAVIS ARRESTED BY ROMANS. - Miss Mary W. Noble, of Anniston, Ala., relates the following unpublished incident of May, 1855, in which her family, traveling from Reading, Pa., to Rome, lost about $4,000, accused Jefferson Davis, then Secretary of War, of stealing it, and actually had him arrested at Augusta, and consented to his release only after he had shown papers establishing his identity. Mr. Davis had graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point, N. Y., in 1828, and had left his seat in Congress in 1847 to enter the Mexican War. His service in this war was so meritorious that when Franklin Pierce was elected President in 1853 he appointed Mr. Davis his Secretary of War, and Mr. Davis held that position until the election of James Buchanan to the Presidency in 1857.

"In 1855, while on a visit to the South, my father, James Noble, Sr., stopped at Rome. My brothers, at Reading, especially Samuel, were anxious to obey Horace Greeley's injunction 'Go West, Young Man,' but my father had practically decided to settle at Chattanooga, Tenn. However, my father met two old-time Southern gentlemen, formerly of South Carolina - Col. Wade S. Cothran and John Hume, Sr. - who were so courteous and who advanced Rome's glories so admirably that he wrote the boys to put the machinery at Reading on a sailing vessel and bring it to Charleston, whence it could be transported by train and overland to Rome.

"In May of that year the older boys embarked from Philadelphia for Charleston, and my parents and myself, Stephen N., then about 10, and my sisters, Jane, Susan, Eliza Jane (Jenny), Josephine and Elizabeth (Lilly), started from the same city to Charleston by train. On reaching Charleston, we discovered that the regular train had left, but that we could be accommodated in a caboose attached to a freight train which was going as far as Augusta. It was Sunday afternoon when we boarded the caboose. We were carrying a large carpet bag filled with valuables, including about $4,000 with which we expected to start our new machine shop and foundry enterprise at Rome. In the caboose with us was an English family on their way to the Duck mines of Tennessee, with whom our parents became friendly because of their own English birth, and at Branchville, Orangeburg County, S. C, two quiet, well-dressed gentlemen in civilian clothes, about 50 years of age, boarded the train as the last passengers before Augusta was reached.

"It was at the suggestion of the conductor that we had determined to travel in the caboose. Our trunks were in the baggage room, and fearing he would not have enough money to pay our way home, my father had opened one of the trunks, removed the carpet bag (which also contained jewelry and papers) and extracted enough in bills to see us all the way. On looking up, we noticed the conductor peering at us through a window. Then the conductor rushed into the baggage room and shouted, 'Hurry up; train's about to leave!' and at the same time grabbed the unlocked trunk and began to pull it out on the platform. My father stopped him long enough to lock the trunk; and then he took the carpet bag into the caboose and put it under the trunks in a compartment which was separated from the seating section by a thin partition. In the room with the trunks was a bench or a settee, and my sister, Jane, being tired, reclined on it.

"When the two strangers got on at Branchville, one of them went into the room where my sister was. She arose and came back where we were, and he took the seat behind her, leaned over and apologized for his intrusion, saying he was unaware the room was occupied. He talked pleasantly to her for about ten minutes.

"About 6 o'clock the next morning we reached Augusta, when lo and behold, the carpet bag was gone, and with it our $4,000. Our parents were much excited, and accused the conductor, recalling that he had peeked at the valuables through the window, and that he had been in such a hurry to remove the trunk. The conductor denied the charge, and pointing at the two strangers, said, 'There are the thieves.' Suspicion seemed to involve the two, so they were arrested right there on the platform by an officer whom my father had summoned. The strangers politely but with some show of feeling pi-oclaimed their innocence. Quite a scene had been produced and a crowd had gathered. The taller of the two declared, 'Sir, I am Jefferson Davis, Secretary of War, and my companion is an officer of the United States army.' They produced papers of identification and were released with an apology from my father, who then proceeded to press the original charge against the conductor. However, the conductor had disappeared, and as our train for northwest Georgia was about to leave, we dropped the matter for the time.

"On reaching Rome we consulted a lawyer, who promised to investigate, but we were strangers in a strange land, our father unknown save through short acquaintance with Col. Cothran, Mr. Hume and a few others; our story was doubted and nothing was done. Some time later we received a statement by mail, I believe from a Catholic priest, to the effect that he had attended a conductor following a fatal accident, who had confessed to him on his deathbed that he had passed the carpet bag out of a window to a confederate between Branchville and Augusta.

"When the Civil War broke out and Mr. Davis was chosen President of the Confederacy, with his headquarters at the seat of g'overnment at Montgomery, Ala., the Noble foundry at Rome was taken over for the manufacture of cannon, and my father had to consult frequently with Mr. Davis at Montgomery concerning orders. Mr. Davis always alluded with a smile to the incident at Augusta and sent his regards to mother and the girls; and my father never failed to respond with a gracious apology and a nice compliment on Mr. Davis' fortitude and ability in the trials of the war.

"In connection with Confederate cannon it may be appropriate to mention that Col. Josiah Gorgas, father of Gen. Wm. C. Gorgas, U. S. A., whose engineering skill made possible the Panama Canal, visited Rome frequently as chief of ordinance for the Confederate States government, and occupied as the guest of the Noble family the front upstairs room at 304 East First St., Rome, which overlooks the First Presbyterian churchyard, and we always called this 'Gorgas room.' Quite a friendship existed between Col. Gorgas and rrty father, which in after years was cemented between Gen. Gorgas and Robt. E. Noble, a surgeon in the United States Army, and son of George Noble. Dr. Robt. Noble was closely associated with Gen. Gorgas for seven years in Panama, then spent six months with him in South Africa, studying fever causes. The two were on their way to Africa again when Gen. Gorgas was stricken and died in London. My nephew remained until after the funeral, then took up his duties as assistant surgeon general of the army with the expedition."

DE LA MESA AND THE TABLEAU. - Capt. Chas. A. de la Mesa succeeded Capt. Kyes as reconstruction officer of the United States Army at Rome, and opened up the so-called Freedman's Bureau at 530 Broad St. Here he tried to bring housewives and newly-freed servants into agreement as to what should be paid for services and wash. In the event agreements could not be reached privately, the contestants were hailed before Capt. de la Mesa. Naturally that official's life was full of misery. Clashes between provost guard and citizens were frequent, but not of a serious nature, for it was bad policy for either side to carry a chip on the shoulder.*

It was reported that Wm. Hemphill Jones had a spat with the captain. It may have been over wash or something else, but Mr. Jones picked up a foot tub or a wash tub and slammed Capt. de la Mesa over the head with it, according to the report. The captain enjoyed a considerable range. He once went to Summerville, and the picture of his leaving resembled that of Wm. J. Burns 50 years later, bidding farewell to Marietta. A young man at Summerville claimed that Capt. de la Mesa insulted or mistreated his sister in some transaction, and proceeded to arm himself. He was halted by the late Jno. W. Maddox, then a resident of the Chattooga town, and Capt. de la Mesa moved on. At Dalton Capt. de la Mesa was served with papers in a court action, but explanations were made and the case was thrown out. There were other similar incidents in the path of Capt. de la Mesa's duty, concerning which, happily, there is no longer any feeling.

Capt. de la Mesa hung out a large United States flag in front of the bureau, and forced all passersby to salute it. Of course he was acting under orders; Romans made a wide detour. Then came the tableau in May, 1867, - an intensely "dramatic" affair.

In order to replace pews in the local churches and to repair other damage done by the Northern soldiers,** the female members of the congregations had formed a society to present tableaux at the old city hall, southwest corner of Broad Street and Fifth Avenue, where the Fifth Avenue Drug Company is now located. On this particular occasion the managers were

*Capt. De la Mesa is supposed to have come from Brooklyn, N. Y., and to have been a naltive of Spain. Ho had a dauprhter. Miss Leila de la Mesa, who married A. C. Fetterolf, of Upper Montclair, N. .1. At the time of her marriage, the family wrote to Rome for a picture of the old I'Yeedmen's Bureau, and the reciuest was complied with hy Mrs. Kd Harris. Capt. de la Mesa died a prood many years ago, and it is understood that his widow remarried.

**Quite a while after the war, the Covernment sent a representative to Rome to assess the damage done the First Baptist church. Hearings were held at this institution, and some spicy comments were made by the women who testified, notably Mrs. FJben Hillyer. An award of about $600 was recommended to Washington, and this amount paid the church.

Mrs. J. M. Gregory, Mrs. M. A. Nevin and Miss Mary W. Noble, and they received a surprise and shock when Capt. de la Mesa bought tickets for himself and his beautiful brunette wife, and planted himself in his military trappings on a front seat. The following is a summary of two accounts of the affair:

"The audience filed in, some of the young women with noses pretty high in the air at sight of the 'intruders.' The tableau was 'The Officer's Funeral,' and all went well for a while. The de la Mesas enjoyed the first part and applauded liberally. A little play preceded the tableau, in which Mrs. Hiram D. Hill (then Florence Mitchell, daughter of Col. Daniel R. Mitchell), played the part of the Irish Maid of Cork, thrummed a piece on her guitar and was wooed by the hero.

"Then - bless Patsy! - the fireworks! The curtain went up on the tableau in question. There stood 'Ferd' Hutchings, Dave Powers, 'Billy' Gibbons, 'Tal' Wells and Leonidas Timoleon Mitchell. 'Coon' Mitchell, by the way, was a son of old Daniel R. and the very man who had carried Gen. Neal Dow, the famous Maine abolitionist, to Libby Prison, Richmond, from Mobile. All the others had fought the 'Yankees' with the Rome Light Guards. And now they had the temerity to stand up before the 'Yankee' reconstruction officer in their uniforms of gray! Furthermore, the officer's casket was draped in a battletorn Confederate flag, the property of Col. Sam Gibbons, father of Billy. Completing the scene were Miss Belle Logan as the widow, and Mrs. Hill's niece, little Irene Hicks, as the orphan.

"Capt. de la Mesa began to boil; his wife reddened sympathetically as the boys began to sing that famous and heart-touching song, 'The Officer's Funeral:'

It pierceth the soft summer air, And a tear from each comrade is falling, - The widow and orphan are there; The bayonets earthward are turning And the drums' muffled sound rolls around, But hears not the voice of their mourning, Nor awakes to the shrill bugle sound.

And thy name from the earth pass away; The man thou didst love as a brother, A friend in thy place will have gained, Thy dog will keep watch for another And thy steed by a stranger be reined.

'Though many now mourn for thee sadly, Soon joyous as ever shall be. Thy bright orphan boy will laugh gladly As he sits on some kind comrade's knee; There is one who will still pay the duty Of tears to the true and the brave, As first in the bloom of her beauty. She knelt by her boy soldiers' grave!'

"Miss Ford stepped from behind the arras and sang 'The Jacket of Gray,' and as she concluded, with the line 'Fold it up carefully, lay it aside!' she lifted a soiled and thread-bare coat into full view of the audience. A shower of applause followed. The de la Mesas boiled over, and trudged out of the hall, to the accompaniment of a perfect chorus of boos and cat-calls, and a shrill defi flung above the tumult by a young 'Rebel,' 'Go it; that's not the first time you ever ran from that flag!'

"This 'good riddance of bad rubbish' (as the players expressed it) was thought to have ended the incident, but not so. Capt. de la Mesa sent a hot message to headquarters in Atlanta, making a charge of high treason, and requesting a company of soldiers to spirit away the culprits. In the meantime, the Federal commander had recognized all the off'enders and had clapped handcuffs on each and marched them to the guard room in the courthouse between files of troopers with fixed bayonets. Several of the young women went to the 'prison' to console the boys, and one of them, unaccustomed to Federal uniforms, asked quite audibly, 'Do all these dogs wear collars?' The cordon around the prisoners was only drawn the tighter.

"After the boys had spent a night thus, a company of 59 soldiers from Atlanta appeared at the Rome railroad station, marched up Broad Street with bayonets fixed, and escorted the 'prisoners' and Capt. de la Mesa to the station, where they caught the next train for the state capital. A tremendous crowd gathered and sullenly watched their friends and their enemies go away. De la Mesa turned back at Kingston. He had obtained the services of another company or part thereof somewhere, and these escorted him back to Rome, and for several days kept watch over him and his bureau, until the excitement had subsided. Henry A. Smith, bookseller who had lost an arm in the war, was due to have been arrested, too, but he had prudently gone to visit relatives up the Etowah river. The women, also, it was rumored, would be held as traitors.

"Col. Mitchell got on the train with the intention of going to Savannah to protest with Judge Erskine, of the Federal Court. Instead, he wired Judge Erskine from Atlanta. The two got into touch with Gen. John Pope, commander of the district, and a release order came within three weeks. However, the order did not forestall serious indignities to the captives, who had been confined in a miserable pen or cage. They were taunted and cursed by their captors, who prodded with bayonets gifts of sweetmeats sent by relatives and sympathizing friends, and forced them to eat the poorly prepared food that had been provided for them.

"A telegram announced the release to Romans, and a huge crowd welcomed the boys at the station, and a supper at the City Hall softened the sting of their humiliation and enabled them to chalk up the event as one of fate's weird pranks."

"Our home in the Fourth Ward had been divested of its sides, blinds, doors, plastering and everything that the Union soldiers could tear down or carry away, and we had gone to live at the old Buena Vista Hotel, southwest corner of Broad and Sixth Avenue, where Seale & Floyd's garage and a grocery store now are. My father owned this place and occupied a small one-story house on the west side of it as his law office. Mrs. de la Mesa had been coming to the hotel from next door to give instructions to a Rome woman who was sewing for her, and when I saw her after my brother's arrest, I told her to get out of the hotel and ^stay out. She sent me word that she would march me up and down Broad Street in charge of two soldiers and under a United States flag. I defied her to try it, and she

The Freedmen'S Bureau On Broad Street

This structure, still standing near Sixth Avenue, was the headquarters of Capt. Chas. A. de le Mesa during the Civil War. Capt. de la Mesa participated in a number of hair raising episodes. Rome's oldest brick building is at the right.

"I suppose Capt. de la Mesa was carrying out orders and ruled sternly for that reason. He and his wife impressed me as people of refinement, and I was especially struck with her beauty and the style of her clothes." * * *

A DRAMATIC SCENE. - When William Smith entered his last illness in January, 1852, he summoned several friends whom he wished to transact certain business matters for him relating to his property in Rome. While they were still with him in the cottage on Howard Street where he died, he raised himself to his feet by holding to his chair, and said:

"I am not a member of any church, but I have done the best I could in this life. Whatever I have had has belonged to the people of this community. No man has ever been turned away hungry from my door if I had anything to divide with him.

Col. Smith had waited for Col. Alfred Shorter to come, so they could have a settlement with respect to the property they owned equally. Col. Shorter sent his representative. Col. C. M. Pennington, to see Col. Smith.

Col. Pennington delivered the message promptly a second time, and it was 24 hours before Col. Shorter found it convenient to come. When he arrived. Col. Smith raised himself on his left elbow, and with his right hand reached under his pillow. Col. Shorter drew back and Col. Pennington stepped between them. During one of Col. Smith's naps Mrs. Smith, the wife, had removed his pistol.

"Alfred Shorter, you are a rascal!" shouted Col. Smith, the old-time fire flashing from his small, black eyes. "This is a fine time to come to see a man - on his death bed!"

Shortly before noon the next day, Jan. 27, Col. Smith died. Only a few days before, his grandson, William Cephas, had been born to Dr. and Mrs. Robt. Battey.

The Widow Baldwin, whom Col. Shorter had married at Monticello, placed at his disposal $40,000 in cash, a handsome fortune in those days of low values. Col. Shorter brought this to Rome with him at the instance of Col. Smith, and invested it in the land which Col. Smith had acquired, and made certain improvements thereon. Col. Smith's energy and Col. Shorter's long business head made an ideal combination, and their partnership interests grew rapidly. After the Civil War, Col. Shorter settled with Mrs. Battey, the daughter, for $10,000 cash, and took her receipt.

HENRY W. GRADY AT ROME. - As a youth, Henry Woodfin Grady had visited his uncle, Henry A. Gartrell, in Rome, and thence had gone to see another branch of his family at Floyd Springs.** Capt. Gartrell removed to Athens in 1865, after having served Rome as mayor in 1859-60. Pleasant recollections of Rome and a chance visit with the Georgia Press excursion in 1869 caused Mr. Gi^ady to anchor his quill, paste pot and shears at the foot of Tower Hill for three years.

Col. E. Hulbert, superintendent of the W. & A. (state) Railroad, had invited the Georgia press to send representatives for an excursion into Southeastern Tennessee, Northwest Georgia and Northeastern Alabama, to write up the natural resources of those sections. The excursion started from Atlanta at 7 a. m., Wednesday, August 25, 1869. At Cartersville the members were addressed on the subject of minerals, agriculture and the new railroad to Van Wert, Polk County, by Mark A. Cooper, grandfather of J. Paul Cooper and father of John Frederick Cooper, of Rome. Thence they went to Chattanooga, 100 strong. Then they turned southward, and arrived at Rome via the Rome Railroad, on their special train, at 1:30 a. m., Friday, Sept. 3.

True to the spirit of newspaper enterprise, young Grady, then only 19, rushed to the sanctum of Editor Melville _ Dwinell, of the Rome Weekly Courier. The hour was unearthly, yet the editor had remained at his desk to "cover" the momentous event of the arrival of the excursionists. Capt. Dwinell stated that he had left a column open. Mr. Grady declared a column would hardly start the story he bore, so Capt. Dwinell side-tracked some of his livest news and no doubt a few advertisements. Mr. Grady had been writing his "yarn" on the train. He continued it for an hour, and for good measure threw in an optimistic editorial squib. A faithful printer hand-set type the balance of the night and The Courier woke up the citizens with Mr. Grady's remarkable narrative. It was a sample of journalistic endeavor to which the quiet Hill City had not been accustomed.

England Society of New York, N. Y., Dec. 22, 1886, is well known. At Rome on this occasion, however, he appears to have struck his original "New South" note, as follows:

"Every citizen of Cherokee Georgia has long been convinced that our mineral resources are unsurpassed, and all that was wanting was for someone to make a start, and induce men of means to come among, to aid in developing the same. . . . Our brothers of the quill will now have something interesting to write about and for a while, at least, will devote their time to something more substantial than politics, and of infinitely more advantage to our bankrupt people. It is refreshing to see men of all political shades quietly traveling together, and for once inaking a united effort to forget political differences, and to lend their efforts to the more laudable cause of developing the great wealth that nature had bestowed upon us. Cuffee for once has been forgotten. The splendid scenery of our mountains and valleys, with the battlefields, which give us a prominent place in history, has made a deep impression upon the minds of all, and proclaims in thunder tones what men will do when pressed to the wall. Mutual forbearance seems to exist, and we predict that in future a better state of sentiment and feeling will prevail."

At this time, maybe, Grady made arrangements to work for The Courier. The preliminaries may have been started by letter a while before. At any rate, he soon came back.

At 3 p. m., after a speech by Mayor Zach Hargrove and a serenade by a brass band and dinner at the Choice House, the party left for a trip down the Coosa River on the Steamboat Etowah as the guests of Col. Wade S Cothran. After inspecting the Round Mountain and Cornwall, Ala., iron works, they came back to Rome Sunday on the Etowah, put up at the Choice House and Monday morning at 9 left by rail for Selma, Ala. Wednesday morning at 6:30 the editors returned to Rome, had breakfast at the Choice House and departed two hours later for Atlanta, where the "junket"

*Col. Pennington was authority for the portion of the above narrative relating to the pistol ; he told the story to Judge John C. Printup. Mrs. Robt. Battey was authority for the statement that Col. Smith sent for Col. Shorter to make a settlement, and that the $10,000 was later paid to her.

The impelling reason why Grady went to Rome lies largely in the realm of surmise. The lad was possessed of a proud spirit which he called ambition and which a handful of sniping contemporaries, less talented, might have called bumptiousness. He was precocious to the extent that he had become an orator in his knee pants, and he was made to suffer more than once because he pitted his skill against older competitors. Through a political deal at the University of Virginia he had suffered a keen disappointment, and it is likely that in associating himself as "free-lance" correspondent with the Atlanta Constitution he was inviting rebuffs that his gifts did not warrant. The Constitution's editor was Col. Carey W. Styles, an experienced journalist, who, by the way, had been involved in the Yacht Wanderer affair nine years before at Savannah. Col. Styles had sat up with legislators at Milledgeville before Henry Grady had ever thought of them, hence when the dashing young collegian essayed to pass voluminous editorial sentence on a governor or a congressman, it was out of the question.

Grady was trying to marry. He was fired with ambition to take the lead in molding public opinion. He enjoyed writing "from the street and hustings," but he preferred the dignity of a job at a desk. Brain work was one thing to Henry Grady, and "leg work" another. The Constitution was a new concern, having been founded in the summer of 1868, had a full staff, and could not find a regular place for him yet awhile. Furthermore, Henry was ambitious enough to believe that what he was writing, mostly of a political nature, was just about as important as anything in the paper, and had as much right to "front page" position as the other stuff they were printing. He believed that an excursion of the state's leading editors was a big news event, and was worth writing columns every day, perhaps. Consequently, he wielded a loquacious pen. The Constitution's telegraph tolls became enormous when Press Excursion news started from Cartersville and continued through Chattanooga and Rome. Henry was shooting readable material, but they couldn't see it at the office; they cut his dojpe to the bone and dropped his pen name, "King Hans." In the following fashion did they knock him

"We are compelled by pressure upon our space to abbreviate and condense the report of the Press Excursion proceedings. Neither the editors nor the proprietors of this paper were present."

"Damn 'em, I'll fix 'em!" muttered Heni-y, who had been introduced by V. A. Gaskell, of the Atlanta New Era, and J. S. Peterson, of the Atlanta Intelligencer, as the Constitution's "representative" on the editors' jaunt. He shot a wad of his copy at Melville Dwinell, editor of the Rome Weekly Courier, over the signature "Zip." Editor Dwinell ate his contributions with a relish; sometimes they ran several columns long, but it was good reading, and it landed Henry a nice job. He put over three columns Sept. 3, and duplicated with three a week later - quite a contribution to a fourpage newspaper.

"To the Readers of the Courier: With this issue of our paper we present Mr. Henry W. Grady in the capacity of associate editor. The vigor, versatility and polish of his pen has recently been exhibited in his correspondence for the Atlanta Constitution over the nom de plume of 'King Hans,' and we may reasonably hope with his assistance to materially increase the interest of these columns. Feeling confident that this effort to interest and please will be successful, we let Mr. Grady make his own bow to the public - M. Dwinell."

"The above notice renders necessary the infliction of a salutatory upon you. We shall be as brief as possible. We are young and without editorial judgment or experience, yet we hope that the enthusiasm with which we enter upon our new profession and the constant labor with which we are determined to bend to our work may partially, at least, atone for these deficiencies.

"The Courier shall be in the future, so far as our management is concerned, devoted as it has been in the past to the dissemination of useful and interesting information, to the bold as-

"We enter the editorial ranks of the state with ill feeling toward none, but with kindness toward all. We shall cheerfully and with vigor co-operate with the press in the furtherance of any project which tends toward good, and we shall endeavor with courtesy and politeness to adjust nicely any differences of opinion which may arise between us and any of our contemporaries.

The young journalist's "bold assertion of correct political opinions" found expression in the same issue of The Courier in the following editorial broadside leveled at Governor Rufus B. Bullock, who also was a guest on the Press Excursion:

"His Accidency ." - " 'We were delighted with Governor Bullock - he is the right man in the right place, and will do all that any man could do to restore Georgia to her former condition of peace and prosperity.' " - Talladega Sun.

"The above tribute to the accident that now occupies the Gubernatorial Chair, though clipped fi'om a Radical paper and written by a Radical reporter, whose official duty it was to become enamored of the Accident and all of his party, has a considerable significance notwithstanding.

"The truth of the matter is that any man who knows nothing of Bullock's political filthiness will inevitably become 'delighted with him,' etc. We have never, in the whole course of our life, seen a man who was gifted with so great an amount of beguiling blarney as is this man. Present him to a Democrat and the sweetness of his countenance is absolutely appalling; infinite smiles ripple over his cheeks and break in soft laughter on his lips; a thousand and one benevolent sparkles are beamed from his eyes; his nostrils play with kindly palpitations, and - believe me, for I tell ye the truth - his whiskers resolve themselves into a standing committee to invite you just to walk down into his heart and take a place in that