Newspaper Page Text
THE CARTERS VILLE COURANT.
VOLUME 1.
For The Coceamt.
Reminiscences of the Cherokees.
By HO<, J. W. H. UNDERWOOD, of Borne,
Georgia.
Treaty of ’35,
CHAPTER 111.
Copyrighted. All rights reserved.]
I left off last week where reports had
been brought In to Ross that the Indians
were terribly hostile to the treaty and to
the Indians who had agreed to transfer
their titles to these Cherokee lands to the
white man.
Tom Foreman, more bold and reckless
than others, denounced the friends of
the treaty as “d—d land sellers,” and
declared the vengeance of the red man
upon some parties who proposed to “sell
land.”
Maj. ltidge, Jolm.Kidge, Elias Boudi
not, White Path, Alidrew Ross, John A.
Bell, John Gunter, Ezekiel West and
John West, were fully persuaded that
the time to sell had come, but the ma
jority of the council declined to see it
that way.
John Ross had virtually agreed with
President Jackson and Secretary Poin
sett to make this treaty in the “Cherokee
country.” John Ridge approached Ross
and reminded him of that promise and
urged him to act. Ross replied lie was
not able if he were willing, to induce
these Indians, then and there, in that
council, to treat for the sale of the coun
try.
The Ridges and their friends were
staggered at the situation, and felt that
the time for making a treaty was past.
An attempt at force would bring a col
lision between the factions, and would
result in the ruin if not the extinction of
the ’race. Ridge loved his people as ar
dently as O’Connell loved the Irish.
John Ross now made a proposition.
He proposed a committee of twenty-one,
to be headed by Ridge and himself, ten
of his adherents and nine of the Ridge
party, making nineteen without the two
leaders, This Committee “was to pro
ceed to Washington City to settle the
affairs of the Cherokee Nation.”
Ross had an interview with Mr. Scher
merhorn, the United States Commis
missioner; told him of the difficulties
that attended the question at this time.
Mr. Schermerhorn listened with great
politeness and civility, but firmly inform
ed him that ids plan would not do, that
he was only temporizing for delay, that
he (Schermerhorn) would be no party to
such a delusive scheme. He further
said, he was there to make a treaty, and
he proposed to offer the Indians a fair
and liberal treaty, ceding to them a
country four times the size ot this terri
tory, pay them five millions of dollars in
cash, and provide for the payment of all
the annuities provided by former trea
ties. He declared his intention of call
ing the assembly together to make bis
proposition in a formal manner. If it
were rejected, bis mission was ended and
his duty would have been performed.
Ross protested. lie said the treaty
would be rejected, that it would result in
the defeat of the whole plan of a treaty.
Mr. Schermerhorn was firm, immova
ble. The Indians were called together
and Mr. Schermerhorn made his ad
dress. lie explained to them their con
dition by an interpreter. lie ex
plained the painful surroundings which
attached to the whole subject. He told
them that all Indians except the Creeks
and Cherokees had moved beyond the
Mississippi river. lie said game was
abundant there, the lands were fertile and
the country healthy. The compact of
1802, between the General Government
and the State of Georgia, had agreed to
extinguish the Indian title to all the land
within the chartered limits ot the State,
that the laws of Georgia had
been extended over these Indian
tribes, that they were unaccus
tomeiT to these laws and institutions,
that the Indians believed themselves to
be much oppressed and trampled upon,
and the only way out of the dfficultv
was the sale of these lands, and removal
to the great West, where the countless
bear aud buffalo ranged in illimitable
quantities.
When lie finished speaking the Indians
were indignant, and the full-bloods were
in a high excitement. Tom Foreman
jumped up to speak. John Ross, rose at
the same time, waving his hand over the
vast multitude. Foreman sat down, with
a face as flinty as the immovable rock,
with a determination written there that'
could not be mistaken.
Ross Saw it. He began in a mild way
to tell of his visit to Washington City,
where he had met their friends, John
Sargeant, Mr. Clay, Mr. Frelinghuysen
and Mr. Wirt. He had consulted with
them fully. Their Great Father, General
Jackson, was their friend, and desired to
do his best for their welfare.
Great difficulties surrounded the Chero
kees. This was no time for excitement.
Ross again made his proposition, saying
it was no rejection of the treaty, but
just another way to settle the difficulty,
and “settle the affairs of the Cherokee
Nation.”
Mr. Schermerhorn replied. He said
Mr. Ross’ scheme only intended delay.
He held to his first offer without flinch
ing.
Then a proposition to vote on the two
plans was made, and when the vote was
counted Ross had ten to the other side
one.
The committee was appointed, and
Tom Foreman made a motion to adjourn
the “Red Clay Council,” sine die, which
was carried.
The new committee betook itself to
Washington at once. Mr. Schermerhorn
informed President Jackson of all that
had occurred, and gave the opinion that
Ko-s only intended delay, und that he did
not intend to make a treaty or any other
satisfactory settlement, at Washington
City. Jackson was of the same opinion
and became exasperated at the conduct of
Ross.
I disagree with both of them. I be
lieve John Ross was acting in good faith.
He was afraid to make that treaty. He
knew the Indians were not willing to
cede their lands,and he knew there was no
power under Heaven to make them will
ing. He believed that all the chiefs who
signed that treaty would lose their lives,
before the Indians could become recon
ciled to it. He sought delay, but it was
only to give them time to cool, and to
reason upon the provisions of the treaty,
lie thought they would then see that it
was a choice of evils, giving up the lands
or extermination.
I feel satisfied that John Ross saw the
inevitable, and was only seeking to con
vince them of what was in store for
them. He well knew the habits and in
stincts of the savage could not bear the
contact of refined civilization.
I was young, but I knew John Ross
well. He w r as loyal to his people, as he
should have been, and they were devoted
to him. He understood that ruin was
inevitable if they made resistance, and
self-love, and love for his own children
would have taught him his duty. Rut
he knew the Indian character. He un
derstood that revengeful disposition. He
saw the danger to them too clearly not to
seek for time to reconcile these indignant
savages to a certain step, which meant
peace, while resistance meant extermina
tion.
When President Jackson and Mr.
Poinsett had an interview with the com
mittee of twenty-one, the President lost
all hopes of making a treaty.
John Ridge and his friends were will
ing to negotiate a treaty. Russ plead for
a delay of twelve months. President
Jackson would not listen to Ross —he
lost Ids patience.
Very grave questions were then pend
ing between the State of Georgia and the
General Government. Nothing but an
extinguishment of the Indian title would
settle It, and make an end of these disa
greeable complications. The President
was convinced that the best thing that
could be done for the Indians, was emi
gration to the West, and the cession of
these lands for a stipulated price. He
Had exerted His power to satisfy Mr.
Wirt, Mr. Sargeant and Judge Under
wood that it was for the best interest of
all parties that a treaty of cession should
be made. More than that, the issues
with the State of Georgia would admit
of no delay.
Gen. Jackson directed Mr. Schermer
horn and Governor Carroll to call an
other council of the Cherokees to con
vene at new Echota, the capital of the
Nation, to consider the treaty. The
commissioners at once issued their cir
cular and caused it to be sent all over the
Cherokee country.
Mr. Ross and his friends remained in
the city of Washington. John Ridge
and His friends came home. Ross still
had hope of delay, and he believed if he
could defeat the making of a treaty at
that time, he could gain all he desired.
Acting on this opinion, he prepared an
address to the Cherokees setting forth the
facts. He told them he and his friends
were at the capital city w’orking tor
the interest of his people, and en
deavoring to settle affairs in the best
way possible, lie informed them that
Ridge and his party had gone home de
termined to sell this land. He denied
their authority, without a full attendance
of the committee, to make any treaty or
to act in the premises, and he advised
his friends to remain away, to stay at
home and not attend the council. He
started runners and interpreters through
the Nation. The Indians were greatly
excited, and a large majority, fully nine
tenths of the full-bloods remained at
home. More than half of those who at
tended*were white men who had married
Indians and half-breeds.
The council was called to meet on the
19th day of December, 1535. Judge Un
derwood was fully convinced that the
time had come when the Indians must
make a treaty. He came home to
Gainesville, where he then resided, ac
companied by Ridge and his friends.
He attended the council. I, a boy,
sixteen years old, was allowed to go with
him. About twelve hundred and fifty
met at the appointed time and place,
composed of whites, half-breeds, and a
few full-bloods.
Major Ridge, John Ridge, Elias Boudi
not, Jim Sterne, Achilles Smith, John
Hicks, John Rogers, John Marciu, John
A. Bell, John Gunter, Ezekiel West,
Andrew Ross, John West, Katehee aud
Stanwatie, were there.
As for myself, I was very anxious to
be at home. The Christmas holidays
were near at hand, and time dragged
heavily with me. Mr. Boudinot, sister
and Sadie Ridge were there also, who,
having been educated at Princetou, be
came objects of considerable interest to
a good many of us who had no particu
lar interest in the business on hand. I
mixed freely with the assemblage,
smoked pipes and ate connahany, and
laughed and chatted with the young
folks, making myself as agreeable as a
lad of my age and parts was able to do.
The ludian men of the crowd sat
around and smoked lor hours, plunged
into deep meditation and reflection. Oc
casionally one would say somtthing in
the Indian language, very little of which
I understood, in reply to which a num
ber would give a gutteral grunt. That
would be followed by another long si
lence. So the time wore on, nothing
being done, and if the affairs of Europe
had been under settlement, they could
not have beeu more deliberate.
CAETERSYILLE, GEORGIA, MARCH 26, 1885.
All who gathered there had evidently
intended to make a treaty, but their ap
prehensions of personal danger were so
great that it was exceedingly difficult to
get them to the point of action.
On the seventh uay, Mr. Schermerhorn
succeeded in getting them to assemble
together. He made them an address
which wa rendered to them by an In
dian interpreter, Eiia3 Boudinot. After
that the council held regular meetings
o; sessions—Mr. Boudinot translating
the English into the Indian tongue and
vice versa. I watched and listened to all
that was done, or said. To all the
speeches that were explained to them,
the Indians would grunt and smoke and
give no sign as to their feelings on the
subject.
On the eighth day, Mr. Schermerhorn
introduced his draft of a treaty, and Mr.
Boudinot interpreted it into the Indian
language. More grunting and more
smoking and nothing else.
This slow work made me nearly des
perate. Christmas day came and went,
and the holidays were all passing and no
business transacted. Nothing but smokes
and grunts.
About the 9th day, Maj. Ridge, who
was then about sixty years old, made a
speech in Indian. Mr. Boudinot inter
preted it into English. Ido not remem
ber the exact words, but It was like the
following:
“I am one of the native sons of these
wild woods. I have hunted the deer and
turkey hero, more than fifty years. I
have fought your battles, have defended
your truth and honesty, and fair trading.
I have always been the friend of honest
white man. The Georgians have shown
a grasping spirit lately; they have ex
tended their laws, to which we are un
accustomed, which harasses our braves
and makes the children suffer and cry;
but I can do them justice in my heart.
They think the Great Father, the Presi
dent, is bound by the compact of 1802,
to purchase this country for them, and
they justify their conduct by the end in
view. They are willing to buy these
lands on which to build houses and clear
fields. I know the Indians have an older
title than theirs. We obtained the land
from the living God above. They got
their title from the British. Yet, they
are strong and we are weak. We are few,
they are many. We cannot remain here
in safety and comfort. I know we love
the graves of our fathers, who have gone
before to the happy hunting grounds of
the Great Spirit—the eternal land, where
the deer, the turkey and the buffalo will
never give out. We can never forget
these homes, I know, but an unbending,
iron necessity tells us we must leave
them. I would willingly die to preserve
them, but any forcible effort to keep
them will cost us our lands, our lives and
the lives of our children. There is but
one path of safety, one, road to future
existence as a Nation. That path is open
before you. Make a treaty of cession.
Give up these lands and go over beyond
the great Father of Waters.”
His face looked bright with eloquence,
and his words were excited. The speech
moved these taciturn people and they
grunted approval. The aged Indians,
the fathers and mothers of the tribe,
were deeply moved, even to tears. They
gathered around Major Ridge, grasping
his hand, with every manifestation of
affection and respect for him.
A tall, good-looking Indian, named
White Path, now arose and approved of
all that Ridge had said. In alluding to
the love the Indian bore to his native
laffd, he pointed to the river, saying,
“You can sooner turn back the waters of
yonder stream and make them seek the
springs again, as to lose the hold on
the Indian’s mind for the home of his
birth; as soon will you find the love of
his native land, and the affection for his
ancestors graves, drying up and ceasing
to exist.”
He was every inch an orator and a he
ro in appearance. When he closed, the
crowd approved and grunted as usual.
Elias Boudinot then arose and poured
forth the inspiration of genius. He de
sired to make the treaty, but he did not
forget the natural feelings of Tom Fore
man and others at Red Clay. “No; the
flashing eye of Tom Foreman and trusty
braves are not here. Their places are
vacant. Ross has induced them not to
come. They are at their homes, with
the loud thunder. Ah! they will come
again. I know I take my life in my
hand, as our fathers have also done. We
will make and sign this treaty. Our
friends can then cross the great river,
but Tom Foreman and his people will put
us across the dread river of death ! We
can die, but the great Cherokee Nation
w ill be saved. They will not be anni
hilated; they can live. Oh, what is a
man worth who will not dare to die for
his people? Who is there here that will
not perish, if this great Nation may be
saved ? When we fall in this heroic at
tempt, our souls will pass to the happy
hunting grounds of the Great Spirit,
where no foes dare molest us in our
rights. The Captain of our Salvation
will command us aud we will sing His
praise forever and evermore.”
When he closed the council adjourned
for the day.
I slept but little that night. The sor
rows of the poor Indian rang through
my brain. Their speeches sounded to
me like the death-songs I had read of in
fiction. I tossed and pondered, but it
was nearly morning before sleep came to
my relief.
The next morning Mr. Schermerhorn
delivered an able address. He used
great policy, displayed a skillfully drawn
map showing their new homes across the
Mississippi. He painted in rich colors
the change to a fresh,fertile, free country,
where they would be unmolested. While
here they were exposed, iusecure, liable
to difficulties with the settlers, and he ex
• plained the necessity for removal.
After His speech the assembly ad
i journed for the da}’.
On the tenth ilky, a committee of
twenty-one was appdVßed to examine the
treaty, which was drfte, and an affirma
tion vote was takerr%iVorlng the treaty.
It was approved Mahout a dissenting
voice. The coturubtee of twenty-one
then were requeue? to complete the
work of signing flu’ll names to it. Ac
cordingly the treaty was to be executed
by placing their nanift) and seals to the
paper, which transport and their rights and
titles to all this land to the United States
Government. ~
At 3 o’clock p. in., the council ad
journed to meet at 6 p. tu. in the house
of Elias Eoudinot.
They were all oa . and at six, in a
large room and they** understood very
well the business <jif hand. As the
treaty was slowly and emphatically read
to them, they concurred, grunted and
smoked their pipes in ib-nce.
There was some hesitation as to who
should sign first, for there was more or
less apprehension thutMhose who signed
it were also signing their own death war
rant. *
Mr. Schermerhorn "b 'turned to ex
plain. Many questions were asked and
answered, but still nobody moved up to
sign the treaty. When. 11 o’clock p. m.,
had arrived and no signing had been
done, Mr. Schermerhorn began to grow
impatient. The hesitation and trepida
tion of the committee wa3 very apparent.
At length John Gunter, an Indian
from Gunter’s LandingAon the Tennes
see river, now located in Marshall coun
ty, Alabama, arose and marched forward
to the table on which the manuscript
of the treaty was resting. Taking up
the pen he dipped it in the ink, re
marking: “I am not afraid I will sell the
whole country,” he wrote his name in a
free, bold hand. Andrew Ross, the
brother of John lio|s, signed next.
Then John A. Bell, nekt Ezekiel West
and Elias Boudinot, so on until the
twenty-one had placed either their signa
tures or their marks on At he treaty. My
father was the first to witness the treaty.
Then Levi Bateman, o,f the U. S. A.,
next C. B. Terhune, ai lastly rnysell.
The ceremony of signing and wit
nessing the document was concluded at
ten minutes before 12 o’clock on the
night of December 29th, 1835.
After the treaty M’as Signed and wit
nessed, Mr. Schermerhorn desired to
have a copy written out at once to be
sent to Gov. Carroll, at Nashville, Ten
nessee, the joint commissioner on the
part of the United States, that he might
sign it also. He designed to have a copy
made that night and start Capt. Benj. F.
Curry, of the U. S. A., with it by day
light. After some search he found his
clerk was on a spree. Mr. Schermer
horn was much put out, ud inquiring if
there no tine preietj4|r* , ;r wewlrl an- 1
dertake to copy it out by daylight, I at
last answered, after waiting some min
utes for others to speak. 1 told him if
he could find no one else who could do it
better, 1 would undertake the task. He
seemed gratified at my reply. So I went
to work, finished it at 2 o’clock a. m.,
read and compared the copy with the
original, all of which pleased Mr. Seher
merhorn. For that work he gave me
fifty dollars, the first fifty 1 had ever
made for myself. He made a friend of
me, and I was ready to serve him by any
act in my power.
I cannot give all the particulars, ex
cept that every one of the signers, ex
cept John A. Bell, were murdered by
Foreman and his associates. Bell saved
his life by moving to Texas. A short
time after the killing of Elias Boudinot,
Stanwatie met Foreman at England’s
Store, in Arkansas, in the Cherokee Na
tion, and killed him.
These murders were all committed
after the removal of the Indians to
Arkansas.
| Xote by the Editress.—A near relative of
Elias Boudinot, was a member of the Confeder
ate Congress, and now holds some position in
Washington as claim agent or commissioner for
the Indians. He is a .veil-known figure there,
a great musician and society man. We have
often heard him speak of his childhood home in
Murray county.)
[CONTINUED NEXT MEEK.]
The new Attorney-General has follow
eu Secretary Lamar’s example in order
ing the immediate sale at public auction
of the superfluous horses, carriages and
equipments belonging to the stables of
his department. With the exception of
the few animals actually needed
for trucking purposes, the entire estab
lishment founded a dozen years ago by
Landaulet V illiams is to be knocked
down, article by article, the highest bid
der, and the proceeds are to be covered
into the Treasury. The tax-eating steeds
of Justice are to go. The cushioned ve
hicles of Justice, the silver-mounted har
nesses, the lap robes, the whips, the
blankets, and the currycombs, which for
years have represented to the extent of
their cost price the misappropriation of
money belonging to the people, are to
be sold for what they will bring, in order
that restitution may be made as far as is
possible. This action on the part of Mr.
Garland encourages us to believe that he
has a clearer conception of the distinc
tion between the public purse and his
private poeketbook than has been pos
sessed by any Attorney-General since
i Aker man. — Xeic York Sun.
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For The Coraant.
HON. AMOS. T. AKEKMAN.
A Biographical Sketch.
BY MRS. it. A. FELTON.
CHAPTER r.
It is a pleasant task to the writer to
collect together and place in shape for
The Couhant any facts, reminiscences
or biographical sketches that will afford
general interest, but it rarely happens
that we are so favored as in the present
M’riting, with clear, condensed state
ments, mainly furnished by the pen of
the distinguished gentleman himself,
whose name heads this column to-day.
By the attention and kindness of Mrs.
Akorraan, his beloved wife, and now his
widow, we are in possession of his diary,
begun in early life, and his letters to her
during many years of happy’ married
life. The domestic side of Col. Aker
man’s character throws a flood of light
upon his whole public career, and we
have rarely been so touched in feeling as
when reading over these treasured let
ters, covering a very stormy period of
Georgia polities; to find portrayed in
these letters (designed for no other eyes
except his dear companion’s) such a beau
tiful illustration of the gentleman, the
patriot and the Christian.
A German writer say’s: “The last best
fruit which comes to late perfection,
even in the kindliest soul, is tenderness
toward the hard, forbearance toward tHe
unforbearing, warmth of heart towards
the cold, philanthropy towards the mis
anthropic.'’ To persons M’ho lived in
Georgia at the close of the M r ar, and who
were familiar with Georgia journalism
for several years thereafter, this para
graph will be fully r understood,
It rarely falls to the lot of man to re
ceive, through the ne ivspapers, such a
hail-storm of attack, detraction and hate,
as M’as poured on Col. Akerman’s head,
because he joined the Republican partv
and consistently advocated its politics.
This is not the time or the place to say
who M’as in the right as to political be
lief, but we are prepared to say M’e never
saw such beautiful tenderness “tOM’ard
tHe hard,” such forbearance “toward the
unforbearing” and such warmth of heart
“towards political foes,” as we find in
these souvenirs of domestic affection.
When the storm-cloud was blackest,
when the attacks were most malignant,
when the hate seemed to have reached a
climax, M’e find in a letter dated Wash
ington D. C.,Feb. Ist, 1870, these words:
“Do not get cross or unhappy at seeing
me abused in the papers. It amounts to
little, and on the whole, the criticisms
have been less savage than I expected.
Be calm as a summer’s morning, take
good care of the children, pray’ for your
husband, be thankful for God’s mercies
and submissive to lli3 judgment, ami do
not mind unkind tongues or unkind
pens, r Raps it Is unnecessary -to give
y T ou this exhortation; y r ou are tolerably
firm against such attacks, but I fear that
they have given y r ou some annoyance.
Your husband is not as good as he should
be, but he is not so bad as some of the
papers make him out.”
Will our readers think the writer silly
if w r e should say that tears fell freely on
reading these lines? Not a reproach fell
from his pen. Being reviled, he reviled
not again, and the sweet exhortation
“pray for your husband” made us sorry,
ah! so sorry’, that our people did not un
derstand the manner of the man we had
among us.
Before we begin the story of Col. Aker
man’s life, allow one more extract, at
this point. In 18GS, as we all remember,
the State of Georgia was a political caul
dron. Resistance and reconstruction,
scalaM’ag and secessionist, republican
and democrat, kuklux and “hog-back,”
M-ere in full SM ing all over Georgia.
Time would fait us to copy here the de
nunciations of the press, the bush arbor
speech, the scenes in the legislature and
all other marked eras ofithat year’s his
tory, even if M’e were disposed to bring
these painful things into remembrance in
this connection. While public senti
ment was boiling, seething, hissing hot,
Col. Akerman was summoned to Wash
ington, before the committee, on affairs
in Georgia. Read his letter :
Washington City, D. C.
“Eight years ago to-day (Dec. 20,
1868) South Carolina seceded. Four
years ago this night I retreated from Sa
vannah, wondering where rny young
wife was, and hoping that the darling
was safe and happy. These things look
strange to me now. Here I am, at Wil
lard’s hotel, in Washington, within a
quarter of a mile of the President’s
house, trying to do some good for Geor
gia, by means of the Congress of the
United States. I have your first letter,
also your last. The first dispatch about
the fire in Eatonton stated that the Court
House and academy were destroyed, and
many other buildings. I supposed that
incendiaries had burned the town and
that my office was among the destroyed
buildings. My first impulse was to hur
ry home, but I reflected that I could save
nothing by doing so, and that therefore
I should stay here as long as duty called.
This political errand here is more vital
than lat first supposed. If the extrava
gancies of some men prevail, our State
will be an intolerable place. I am for
moderation. Though a sufferer by the
violence of our political adversaries, I
will recommend nothing for vengeance.”
Does not this patience surprise you?
when you recollect that he had found
himself turned from every door in a cer
tain town, even from the public inn
when he attended court only to plead
the legal rights of his clients) and having
no place to lay his head, was com
pelled to ask the court to continue his
cases until another term. When it is
known that he was subjected to the most
insulting indignities while he was en
gaged in prosecuting his legal profession
does not this “moderation” speak vol
umes for his goon heart ?
What a time and opportunity “for ven
geance” was open to him, and yet see
him deplore the “extravagancies” of
men who felt inspired to “vengeance!”
Upon the fieat of their “distemper” this
man “sprinkled Christian patience.”
Just here, in this exerci-e of patience,
M’e find the temper and quality of Col.
Akerman’s character, and shall we say
it, M r e are pained that our own people
and the temper of the South led us to
sadly misapprehend him!
Amos T. Akerman Mas born in New
Hampshire, on Feb. 23, 1821. He M’as a
pupil at the public schools of Portsmouth,
prepared for college at Exeter Academy,
and graduated from Dartmouth College
with distinguished honor. Let him tell
the brief story of his youth, as M’e find
it in a letter to his wife:
Washington, Feb., 1871.
“Your letter was one of my’ blessings
this morning. I felt serious on my’ birth
day. My life has been happier, and in
some senses more prosperous, than my
parents had a right to expect when 1
was born. My father .and mother were
in plain condition, Mith enough of edu
cation to know its value*, and deeply’ in
terested in religion. They tried to bring
up their children well. Our childhood
M’as a hard one from necessity’. The
girls generally did the house-M’ork and
the boys the out-door M r ork. I sawed
and split and carried in the wood, took
care of the cows, drove to pasture, made
the garden, did the errands, and with all
that, M’as a tolerable good scholar. Will
my sons do as much? I hope they Mill
not be so hard pressed, but I cannot M’ish
them exemption from labor and submis
sion in their boyhood. (I have wander
ed from my’self to my children.) My pa
rents were careful in religious culture.
They held us to a strict practice and to
an orthodox creed, and in this they were
right. They’ are now gone, I trust to an
eternal rest. Walter (his brother) is
with them. The othe~s are in life. lam
now looking downward to rny T children.
God bless them and give them as good
reason to love me as I have to love my’
parents.”
In an earlier letter he writes thus of
his mother:
“To-morrow is the anniversary’ of my
mother’s death. I was a child then, and
the shock was violent. She had long
been an invalid, but we had no thought
that her end was so near, till, on Thurs
day morning, my eldest sister came early
to my bed, and said that we must lose
our mother. I hastened to her room and
found her sinking, but able to say’ a lit
tle, ot love to us, and of hope for herself.
She lingered until Saturday-morning,
and then we saw her die; and oh! how
strange the world appeared, until time,
the great comforter, made U3 familiar
with the change. And all the rough ex
perience of subsequent life has not fully
removed the traces of desolation left by
the event. But this is not peculiar to
me. Every one’s first sorrow seems
great to him, and it is so. The heart
knows its own bitterness.”
His diary begins with the year 1839,
and closes with his death. His school
boy days, as recited by himself, are just
what you would expect of such a loving,
dutiful son—clear, pure and pious. Ilis
reading embraced fiction, history and
religious books; and what a reader he
M’as!
He graduated in 1842, at Dartmouth
College, and shortly after came South to
find employment as a teacher. A friend
had geneiously advanced several hun
dred dollars to assist him through col
lege, and the desire to discharge that
debt, brought him to this, the then pros
perous South-land. He obtained a school
at Murfreesboro, N. C., where he re
mained ten months. At the close of the
year he returned to Portsmouth, where
he stayed only a few months. Sailing
from Boston for Charleston, S. C., in the
barque Arethusa, Capt. Baxter, fee reach
ed that city’ Dec. 3jM, 1843. lie had a
class-mate in Burke county’, Ga., by the
name of Samuel B. Twitchell, to -whom
he had written, and who had found a
“good place” for him. In January, 1844,
he visited Mr. Twitchell, at Alexandria,
Burke county, and found the “good
place” to be a school in Richmond coun
ty, and his school opened on the 23d of
the same month.
At the close of the year Col. Akerman
engaged w’ilh Mr. John Whitehead to
teach a family school at Bath, to whom
he expresses the most grateful recollee-
tions of kindness and courtesy. At the
end of the school sessions he was enabled
to pay up the remainder of the school
debt, before alluded to. Listen to this
conscientious good man : “The fear that
I might never pay his debt was a con
stant source of anxiety until it was fully
paid. Then 1 breathed more freely. I
could not bear the thought that he should
be the loser through kindness to me. As
school-fellows at Exeter he conceived a
good will for me, which showed itself in
a substantial way. lam thankful he was
made w hole, in a pecuniary sense. For
his voluntary beneficence to his poor
friend, may God reward him !”
“A grateful mind is a great mind,” and
here is the example as well as the pre
cept.
In November, 1846, Mr. Akerman be
gun anew, congenial life in Georgia, in
the house of Judge Berrien, of Savan-
nah, as a tutor to Mr. Berrien’s children,
with half the day his own for the study
of the law. The winters were spent in
Savannah —the summers at Clarksville,
in Habersham county, Georgia. In 1853,
he began to keep house for himself, on
a place he had bought in Habersham,
where he lived and practiced law until
he entered into a law partnership with
Judge Hester, in Elbert county. He
says : “In a short time the business of
the firm became enough to employ all
my time, and I have ever since led the
life of a busy country lawyer.”
The next entry we find dated Car
tersyille, G., Feb. 23d, 1874.
NUMBER 8.
j “Since my last writing in this book
more than thirteen years have elapsed.
Glow large a part of man’s brief day!’.
And now, on my birthday, the comple
tion of fifty-three years of life, I resume
the narrative. There are persons now
in being, who may perhaps take an in
terest, at some future time, of what I
write of my own life. For their sake, l
put on paper the principal parts in my
personal history, since IS6O. The at
tempt of the Sou*hem States to secede
from the Union brought on the war. Re
luctantly I adhered to the Confederate
cause. 1 was a Union man until the
North seemed to have abandoned us. In
January, 1880, the United States steam
er, Star of the West, on her way to re-*
lieve Fort Sumpter, was fired on by the
secessionists of Fort Moultrie, and com
pelled to return to the North, and the
Militia of Georgia, under orders from
Gov. Brown, seized Fort Pulaski and the
arsenal, near Augusta, and these acts
were not resented by the government at
Washington. Not caring to stand up
for a government which would not stand
up for itself, and viewing the Confeder
ate government as practically established
in the South, I gave it my allegiance,
though with great distrust of its peculiar
principles. In the summer of ISC3, I
joined the State Guard, an organization
with a six month’s term of service, for
State defence. We were called out in
September, and served partly as cavalry
and partly as infantry, near Athens,
near Atlanta and near Savannah, until
some time in February, 1804. Our reg
iment was commanded bj r Toombs as
colonel, Martin, of Elbert, as lieutenant
colonel, and Freeman, of Franklin, as
major. I was ordnance oflicer of the
regiment.
In May, 1804, Gen. Sherman began his
march toward Atlanta, and Gov. Brown
called out the militia to aid in apposing
him. Before going to camp, 1 went to
Athens, and there was married to Mar
tha Rebecca Galloway, on the 28th of
May. The ryjxt morning I left her lor
Atlanta, tire place of rendezvous. The
militia was organized as a division, with
Gustav us "W. Smith as major-general.
Col. Martin was quartermaster of the di
vision and I was one of the assistant
quartermasters. Our field of service
was in Atlanta and the neighboreood
until September Ist. Then we evacuated
that city and retreated to Griffin, where
we were furloughed for thirty days, and
I went home. At the end of the furlough
I went to Macon, where we had been or
dered to meet, and stayed with the com
mand until it was furloughed the
next February. We went from Macon
to Griffin, thence to Lovejoy’s Station,
and thence fell back to Macon, when
Sherman advanced from Atlanta, and
then went by way of Albany and Thotn
asville to Savannah. we remain
ed about three weeks. On the 20th of
December, we left die city by night,
crossing rhe Savannah river on a pon
toon. We went to If i:\lee ville, S. C.,
then to Hamburg, then to Augusta,
camping on the Sand Hills. Soon we
went down to Mobley’s Pond, in Burke
county, and then returned to Augusta
and crossed to Hamburg, where the com
mand was furloughed, but I was ordered
to Macon and Milledgeville, with a train
of wagons. Having performed the duty,
I took my furlough and went Lome. We
were ordered out again in April, and I
obeyed, going to Augusta, where we
were to assemble. We were immediate
ly furloughed indefinitely by Governor
Brown, who was there, for the Confed
eracy was tailing. This was the end of
my military career.
I returned to Elberton, and as soon as
the courts were open, resumed the prac
tice of law. In 1867 I was chosen to the
Constitutional Convention of Georgia,
and served in that body. In the politi
cal divisions which followed reconstruc
tion in Georgia, I felt bound to take the
Republican side, and was placed on the
electoral ticket of that body in 18G8. Gen.
Grant nominated and the Senate con
firmed me, as the District-Attorney for
Georgia in the spring of 1869, but I
would not take the “test oath,”, then re
quired of officers, as I had not been re
lieved by Congress, and so could not
take the office. The next December I
was relieved,and appointed to that office,
and accepted it.
The next June, to my great surprise,
1 was nominated by President Grant to
the office of Attorney-General of the
United States, and entered upon its du
ties July Bth, 1870. In this ofliee I serv
ed until January 10-h, 1872. My course
in it was satisfactory to my conscience—
I believe it was satisfactory to the Presi
dent—but it was not satisfactory to cer
tain powerful interests, and a public
opinion, unfavorable to me, was created
in the county. I resigned the office and
came home. This brief experience in
office was very pleasing, but very trying,
to my healtli.
In January, 1871, I removed ray fami
ly from Elberton to Cartersville, where
I could communicate with them from
Washington more convenient}', and this
place has since been my home. 1 took
part in the political campaign in Georgia
in 1872, as a Republican candidate for
elector. But my chief work has been at
the law r .
My home is cheered by a wife and four
sons. For these blessings may I be
thankful to the Great Giver!
My father died February 20th, 1867,
at the age of ninety-one. I was not per
mitted to he with him in his last days.
Sister Lucinda ministered to him. In a
good old age he passed tranquilly away,
and, 1 trust, is among the redeemed in
glory. His last years were of more tem
poral comfort than some of his middle
life. When relieved from oppressive
poverty his spirits revived, and I think
the last twenty years of his life were of
more than ordinary happiness. Father,
mother and Walter, are gone. Three
others that smiled around my cradle are
among the living—but how changed and
how widely separated ! Lucinda in Cal
ifornia, Celia in Indiana and Margaret
in Ohio, all elderly women, but all, I
trust, among God’s chosen ones. If we
belong to that number it is no matter
where we live or where we die.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)