Newspaper Page Text
(Editor’s Note: The following story on the
early history of Indian Springs was taken
from a pamphlet entitled “Reminiscences
and Indian legends”, compiled by Sophie
Lee Foster, a famous state regent of the
DAR, and printed by Byrd Printing
Company, of Atlanta, in 1913. A great deal of
the material was taken from an early issue
of the Jackson, Ga. Argus.)
INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA
Romantic Discovery
In 1792, when the country in this vicinity
was clothed in its swaddlings of nature, and
the red man and wild beasts alone trod the
hills and valleys west of the Ocmulgee, a
solitary huntsman was wending his way
north, south of the Towaliga, about where
the public road to Forsyth is now being
turnpiked. The park was a model of his
class—large, muscular, completely equip
ped, a frame strong in its every
development, and a general contour which
indicated that he knew nothing of fear, and
dreaded not the dangers of the wilderness in
which he was traveling. A deep melancholy
on his face, the flashing of his dark eyes, and
an occasional sight evidenced he carried an
“Iron in his soul,” and was actuated by a
purpose that knew no turning. This was
Gabriel Dunlap—a Georgian. His object in
thus absenting himself from society will be
seen hereafter.
Dunlap was a careful and wary hunter,
and in this hitherto undtrodden field was
specially on the alert. He knew that dangers
lurked around, and was cautious at every
step. While thus walking and watching, he
was startled by the war whoop of the
savages, which seemed to burst from every
ambush around him. He knew his retreat
was cut off, for a hundred savages emerged
from the thickets lining the Towaliga.
Therefore, but one course was left to be
pursued—that of taking a due north
direction. Leaving the river and crossing the
hills, he ran without any purpose beyond
making his escape. And thus he ran for
miles—as the yells of his pursuers would
subside, hope bracing him up, again
depressed by the reiteration of the voices of
his enemies. At length, when almost ready
to fall from exhaustion and thirst—his vitals
scorched as with fire—hope whispered “a
little farther.” And soon, overjoyed and
exhausted, he was able to spring into a
canebrake dark as night, where he slept
unconscious of anything that occurred
around him.
REINFORCEMENTS
When he awoke, yet half dreaming,
Dunlap gazed about him some time before
he could “realize the situation.” With great
effort he arose, staggered forward, but fell
against a larger stone, and here, to his
delight, he heard the trickling of water.
Quickly he sought to slake his burning thirst,
and soon found, and enjoyed, what seemed
ice water in a canebrake in August. He
drank until every desire for water was
satisfied, yet none of the unpleasant feelings
that often follow such indulgence were
experienced. On the contrary, he felt new
life and vigor, and set out to place a greater
distance between himself and his enemies
His only safe course he knew, was to travel
in a northerly direction, and, after imbibing
another copious draught from the welcome
fountain, he set out, toiling through the cane
that covered the bottom. When he was about
reaching the northern edge of this dense
retreat, a well known signal greeted his ear.
To this he responded. His response was
replied by another signal, when he quickly
emerged from the brake, ascended the bill,
and on approaching a large oak then
standing on the site of the present Elder
Hotel, was greeted thus:
“Hallo, Gabe! whar did you cum from?
Have you been squattin’ in the thicket
yonder?”
“I’ll be smashed,” ainswered Dunlap,,“lf
here ain’t Jube Cochran. And, Jube, I’m
gladder to see you than if I had knocked out
a panther’s eye with old Betsey here, and
without picking her flint, on a two hundred
yard line. Cause why—l’m lost and ain’t
nowhar ef you ain’t some place.”
And next the two friends met with a hearty
shake of hands and a union of warm hearts,
such as conventionalities and civilization
have long since driven from the brightest
spot in Georgia. The huntsmen refreshed the
inner man, recounted their several recent
adventures, and then sought a place of rest,
which they soon found among the rocks
skirting the river.
Here they slept until midnight, when the
report of a gun aroused them. Snuffing
danger in the breeze, they at once not only
became watchful, but sought to discover the
whereabouts of their daring neighbor; and
finally, in the darkness, almost ran against
two numan forms, whether paleface or
Indian they could not make out, when
Cochran hailed:
“Who’s thar?”
“Watson,” was the reply, and soon there
was another happy greeting; when all four
of the party (one a small boy named Ben
Fitzpatrick) walked to the top of the hill
between two creeks, and again rested until
day break, reciting the customary yarns of
the border.
Douglas Watson was about eighteen years
of age, six feet in height, and boasted of
possessing a well developed muscular
frame. His companion, Fitzpatrick, was an
INDIAN SPRINGS HISTORY
orphan boy, who had the temerity common
to adventurous youth to follow Watson in
these wilds.
Seated by their camp fire Dunlap
explained to Watson the invigorating effect
the water in the canebrake, at the foot of the
hills, had had upon him in his fainting
condition the day previous, when the whole
party again sought the cooling spring, and,
after search, found it. This was Indian
Spring, and this was the first party of white
who are known to have drunk of its water. At
this gathering Watson admitted to his
comrades that about a month previous he
had found the spring, but in consequence of
its smelling like gunpowder he fled the
vicinity.
Watson and Cochran were scouts, sent out
by the Government in the Spring of 1792.
Fitzpatrick was the shadow of Watson; and
Dunlap divulged to his new friends his
history and mission while they lingered
around the spring.
DUNLAP’S HISTORY
To be brief: Twelve years previous,
during an Indian raid in Bibb County, a little
friend—a ward of his father—was stolen and
carried away. Then and there, ere the
triumphant yells of the foe were silenced, be
had registered an oath in Heaven, .which
was baptized by the falling rain, never again
to seek peace until he found it in the rescue
of “Bright Eyes”—his lost Nora. Since that
hour his home had been between the
Towaliga and Ocmulgee, and his whole
exertion was to find the lost one and restore
her to her friends.
A BATTLE AND RETREAT
In the morning the party left the Spring,
traveling down stream, but in a few
moments the shoals were reached. Here was
another mystery, which to Watson appeared
more wonderful than did the gunpowder
spring. They had traveled down stream; of
this they were certain; yet they encountered
an opposite current, and were amazed.
Fitzpatrick, however, soon explored the
vicinity and discovered the meeting of the
waters near the Spring. Here two creeks,
running in almost opposite directions, met
fraternally and formed the Big Sandy,
which then flowed in an easterly direction
until it united with the Ocmulgee.
Crossing at the foot of the shoals, the party
started down the stream, hunting and
traveling leisurely. Noon found them at a
little spring near the present site of Tanner’s
bridge, where they halted, kindled a fire,
and prepared to cook the choice bits of game
they had secured. Here they were again
doomed to be disappointed; for suddenly
their foe burst upon them in overwhelming
numbers. The odds were fearful, but rather
than surrender—which would have been
death—the contest was entered upon.
Many heroes whose names emblazon the
pages of history never exhibited the
coolness and calculating courage of Ben
Fitzpatrick in his first battle. He stood
fearlessly by the side of his companions,
fighting bravely until Cochran fell
senseless, having been struck by the war
club of an Indian. As the Indian stooped to
scalp his victim, Ben plunged his hunting
knife to his heart, and, when the brave
uttered his death yell, the boy attempted to
remove his wounded comrade. At this
moment young Watson handed Ben his gun,
gathered up Cochran, and crying out “Now
is our time, Ben,” ran through the creek into
the darkness swamp beyond.
They were now safe, for deep darkness
had fallen, and their enemies feared to
pursue them. Cochran recovered during the
night, but diligent search failed to ascertain
anything as to the fate of Dunlap; and,
warned by the signal smokes of the enemy,
the trio started early next morning for the
nearest block-house east of the Ocmulgee.
DUNLAP AND NORA
But Dunlap was not lost. He was shot
through the left shoulder when the attack
was first made, fainted and fell, and was
scalped and left for dead. He lay hours, until
nightfall—half waking, half sleeping and
dreaming. Suddenly he felt a soft hand
bathing his fevered head. He knew this
kindness came not from savage hands, nor
from the rough goodness of a fellow
huntsman, for the sweetness of an angel’s
breath fanned his face. Pain was forgotten,
yet he was afraid to move lest the charm
should be broken and the vision vanish. Half
unconcsious, he whispered as if by
inspiration,” “Nora.” And the guardian
angel hovered about him proved to be the
Nora for whom he had been searching. She
suppressed an involuntary scream as she
recognized the object of her compassion,
and, laying her hand on the face of her old
friend, in a trembling voice said:
“Oh! my more than brother, have we met
at last, after so many long and weary years
of separation, each of which has seemed an
eternity?”
The recognition was mutual, but the meet
ing was too happy, too full of sacred joy,
to be intruded upon. The wounds of Dunlap
were carefully bound by Nora, after the
fashion of her companions from girlhood,
and they at once removed as far as possible
from the vicinity of the fight. They were not
discovered the next morning and then
commenced a long and weary journey
homeward, which extended through many
days. At last they saw the curling smoke
THE JACICSON PROGRESS-ARGUS, JACKSON, GEORGIA
arising from their native cabin. Here the
long lost were greeted with joy, and at an
early day there was a wedding—Dunlap and
Nora were united, and at once settled down
to the realities of life.
In 1796, fearing other molestations from
the savages, who were then hostile to the
whites, the Dunlap family sold their lands in
Bibb and removed to Liberty County,
Georgia, where, at the present time, many
of their children’s children may be found
occupying high social positions.
FATE OF OUR HEROES
The boy, Ben Fitzpatrick, grew up to
manhood in company with his friend,
Watson. Subsequently he removed to
Montgomery, Ala., where he died a short
Joel Mallet
Wins High
Honor
Awarded First Honor
In Yale Law School
Makes a Great Record
That Joel Mallet won first
honors in the law school at Yale
University is highly pleasing to
his many friends here and a
credit to this young man. Out of
a class of 800 young men, Mr.
Mallet led the entire class and
was awarded first honors. This
is a distinction that should be
appreciated by Mr. Mallet and
his friends and reflects credit
upon the training given by
Georgia’s educational institu
tions.
A graduate of Emory
College, class of 1912, Mr.
Mallet taught one term in
Jackson public schools, follow
ing which he studied law at the
University of Georgia two
years, being awarded degree of
bachelor of laws in the class of
1916. While at Athens Mr.
Mallet took high rank in the
law school, being awarded
many honors. Last fall he
entered Yale University, one of
the formost institutions of the
East.
There were about 5,000
students enrolled at Yale the
past term, of which number
some 800 were in the law class.
To lead his class and graduate
with first honors is a distinction
of more than ordinary note,
and the many friends of Mr.
Mallet in his home town and
county are proud to know of his
splendid record.
Three other Georgia boys
made good records at Yale.
They are Walter Grace,
McKibben Lane, son of Major
and Mrs. A. W. Lane, and
Baxter Jones, all of Macon.
Mr. Grace graduated with high
honors. Messrs. Lane and
Jones, who are attending the
officers training school at Fort
McPherson, also were on the
list of honor men at Yale.
Mr. Mallet and Mr. Grace
have been taking the training
course on the Yale campus.
Following the closing of Yale
they will probably report for
duty at Fort McPherson
training camp.
It is understood to be the
intertion of Mr. Mallet to enter
the law office of Colonel John
W. Moore in His
friends predict a brilliant and
successful career for this
popular young Jackson boy. -
The Jackson Progress-Argus,
June 29, 1917.
J. S. Davis Is
New Manager
Chero-Cola Cos.
Mr. J. S. Davis is now
manager of the Jackson
Chero-Cola Bottling Com
pany, having purchased the
interest of Mr. V. M. Cole.
The deal became effective
this week.
Mr. Davis is a well known
young business man of the
city and was for several
years manager of the Butts
Lumber Company.
As manager of the Chero-
Cola plant, Mr. Davis
proposes to push the sale of
the well known and widely
popular drink throughout this
territory. Jackson Prog
ress-Argus, March 10, 1916
time since. His career in his adopted State
was an honored one, he having served in
both branches of the National Congress and
as Governor of the State. Governor Fitz
patrick was a cousin of Mrs. Cynthia
Varner, of Indian Springs. After the Indians,
were removed from this section, Douglas
Watson settled in Monroe County, where
resided until his decease, which occurred a
few years ago. Of the career of Cochran we
have been unable to obtain any data.
The foregoing history of the discovery of
Indian Springs by the whites is not all
fiction. It is an “o’er true tale.” “Duggie”
Watson, the hero of the foregoing pages—he
who feared the smell of gunpowder when
he first looked upon the halfhidden spring
and fled—has often repeated the history as
we have given in in our hearing.
PERSONAL
Mrs. John W. Amoss, of
Milledgeville, and Miss Olive
Amoss, of St. Augustine,
Fla., are guests of Mrs. W. P.
Newton.
Mrs. N. F. Land and Mrs.
C. M. Kimbell were hostesses
Tuesday afternoon at a
“Kitchen Shower” for Mrs.
J. H. Land. The afternoon
was pleasantly spent with
music and games, and Mrs.
A GOOD BUGGY
MAKES
Every Ride
A Joy Ride.
CARMICHAEL BUGGIES
Are built for SERVICE as well as Pleasure, Those essential feat
ures which necessarily combine to make a vehicle attractive and useful
are given close consideration at our factory. QUALITY is the founda
tion of our constructive process. FINISH wins the admiration of our
Patrons.
SOMETHING DURABLE
something; stylish
N —< IM M ii ig Ju
THEI9IO CARMICHAEL
For TWENTY FIVE YEARS Carmichael Buggies have held the rep
utation for DURABILITY, STYLE and FINISH. Each year it has been
the aim of the factory to build a better, handsomer buggy. The techni
cal study of the parts that go to make up a buggy and years of selection
for high grade materials find in “THE 1910 CARMICHAEL” the BEST
HAND MADE BUGGY IN THE SOUTH.
For Sale In Jackson By The
“McKIBBEN CO.”
Butts Cos. Progress • Feb. 8,1910
THURSDAY, JULY 1, 1976
Land received many nice
useful presents.
Dr. B. F. Akin and Miss
Lucile Akin will spend the
week in Washington and New
York, where Dr. Akin will
attend the annual convention
of the Southern Railway
physicians and surgeons.
Miss Annie Lou McCord
and Master Harry Bob
Butner returned Wednesday
from Atlanta. They were
accompanied home by
Misses Margaret and Eliza
beth Tillman, who remained
for a short visit.
Mrs. Annie Webb, Misses
Jessie Jones, Nannie Belle
Jinks, Pauline Mallet, Mary
Downs and Merritt Bailey
attended the meeting of the
missionary societies of the
Methodist church in McDon
ough, Tuesday.
Mrs. J. H. Carmichael, Mr.
and Mrs. Frank S. Car
michael and George Da
mour, Jr., spent Sunday in
Atlanta visiting Mrs. George
Damour whose friends will
be pleased to know she is
convalescing at St. Joseph’s
Infirmary where she has
been ill for the past three
weeks.
Miss Miriam Sams won the
tennis championship at Wes
leyan for the year and was
presented with a handsome
tennis racquet.
Miss Ila Howell was
graduated this week from
Wesleyan and was one of the
belles at the Mercer Sigma
Nu reception at the Hotel
Dempsey last Tuesday
evening. In giving the
“record and expectations” of
each graduate, Sunday’s
Macon Telegraph says: “Ila
Howell, of Jackson recently
Ku Klux Klan
Had Parade
Friday Night
A parade through the streets
of Jackson early Friday night
by members of the Ku Klux
Man aroused considerable
interst.
Members of the order in full
regalia, headed by a fiery
cross, appeared on the streets
early in the evening and
marched down Third Street to
the depot and up First Street.
The parade stopped at the
school auditorium where mov
ing pictures were being shown,
and needless to say the
appearance of the Mansmen
created as much interest as the
pictures on the screen.
It was stated there was some
fifty to sixty-five men in the
parade. Visiting members of
the order from adjoining
counties took part, it was
stated, and after the parade
there was a business session. -
The Jackson Progress-Argus,
Oct. 17, 1924.
expressed her intention of
going to Cuba to learn more
Spanish, but now says that
she intends to stay at home
this year.” The Jackson
Progress-Argus, June 4,1920
The Jackson Progress-
Argus, June 4, 1920.