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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. Telegraph and Messenger and Courant. Club Rates By permission ot the proprietors, we offer to subscribers the following terms of subscription: Macon Telegraph and Messenger,“weekly, and Coueant $2.40 Daily, with Now is your time to get two good newspapers, at a fraction over the price for one. Invariably in advance. 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.)