Miscellaneous News Articles

These articles were extracted from very early newspapers such as:
The Columbian Museum & Savannah Advertiser, The Georgian, The Savannah Georgian,
Georgian Gazette, and many others.

TERMS USED IN THIS SECTION ARE NOT MEANT IN ANY WAY TO BE HURTFUL OR HARMFUL TO ANY PERSONS.  READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

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Columbian Museum & Savannah Advertiser; Tuesday 19 April 1796; pg. 3 col. 4

25 DOLLARS REWARD
Ran away from the Subscriber's plantation, on Savannah Back River, a few days ago, the following NEGROES, viz:  A Negro Man, named SAMPSON, lately purchased of Capt. John Dilworth, of Camden County, in this State; he is full 6 feet high, very black, his head pretty grey, walks upright, is supposed to be between 40 and 50 years of age, and formerly belonged to the estate of the late Henry Sourby; he is well known in the southern parts of this State, being used to go between St. Mary's and Savannah, in a boat with Mr. Dilworth, and its supposed to be gone to St. Mary's, Beaufort, or some of the Sea Islands, as he went away in a small Canoe.--Also, from the same Plantation about the same time, a Young Negro Fellow, named SIMON, also very black, active and artful; about twenty years of age, near six feet tall, very liekly, strong and well made, is apt to flutter a little, if surprized or sharply spoken to, born in South Carolina, and purchased by me, together with his mother, brother and sisters, of the estate of Col. Joseph Maybank of St. Thomas's Parish in that State, where it is probable he may attempt to go; it is said he has a wife either at Mr. Campbell's plantation, adjoining mine, or at Dr. Channings on Savannah River.  A Reward of Twenty DOLLARS, will be paid for apprehending and delivering Sampson to me in Savannah, and Five Dollars for Simon.  If either of them are harboured, the person so doing may expect to be prosecuted.
            JOHN GLEN.B
Savannah, April 18th.

Georgia Gazette; Friday 12 January 1798; pg. 2 col. 1

SHERIFF'S SALE
WILL BE SOLD, at the Courthouse in the Town of St. Mary, County of Camden, between the hours of 10 and 3 o'clock, on Tuesday the 6th day of March next,
A Negro Fellow, named Will, seized under execution as the property of John Dilworth, at the suit of Gen. James Jackson.  Conditions cath.  The property pointed out by the Plaintiff Agent.
            J.M. LINDSAY, S.C.C.
Sheriff's Office, November 30, 1797.

The Macon Georgia Telegraph; Tuesday 9 February 1841; pg. 3 col. 5

MARRIED—On the 26^th ult. At Mount Arorat, Glynn County, by the Hon. Francis M. Scarlett, ADAM S. GOODBREAD, to Miss LOUISA HIGGINBOTHAM, of said county.

The Georgia Telegraph & Republic (Macon, GA); Wednesday 9 July 1845; pg. 2 col. 3

SAVANNAH, June 24, 1845—Mr. Mozo and the Treasure found by him on the banks of the Altamaha.

            DEAR SIR—It is not probably known to many of our citizens, that a regular trade was carried on in England with the Spanish Provinces in America, and elsewhere, by the Birmingham manufacturers of spurious Spanish dollars, from the year 1790 to 1800, and perhaps to a later period.  This base coin was made and sold in Birmingham, as they sold any other hardware—giving to the metal the appearance and stamp of Spanish dollars—and were bartered away at the rate of about five shillings to the pound sterling.
            These manufactures made with impunity this base foreign coin in great quantities, but would have been hung, every man of them, if they had tried their skill on an English sixpence.
            The merchants of that period, settled in Savannah, were urged to take large sums of it, and I was informed recently, by a gentleman of great observation and knowledge, who was in England about the year 1799, and spent some time there, that to the honor of these merchants the offer was indignantly declined, and in justice to Capt. Swarbrack, I mention his name, as he was particularized; yet doubtlessly much of this Birmingham money found its way into Georgia and the Floridas, and the large amount said to have been got by Mr. Mozo (who is a very honest and clever man,) was without doubt taken by speculators to the place where it was found, for the purpose of trading it away to the Indians, for skins and other products of the wilderness country, and for security, was buried where it was discovered by Mozo, and such sums only disinterred as might be wanted for trade.  I understood that the date of these dollars was 1795.  They may be worth something to Mr. Mozo, at least, I should suppose, to the amount of the silver they may contain.  It is probably they were secreted by persons who were either destroyed by the Indians, or were obliged suddenly to vacate the trading establishment.
            Yours truly, W.J. McINTOSH.

The Georgia Weekly Telegraph (Bibb County); Friday 21 June 1861; pg. 1 col. 5

THE GEORGIA REGIMENTAL JOURNAL.

            We have received the first number of a paper bearing the above title, devoted to the interests of the Georgia army now in the field, and published at Camp Symmes, (head quarters of the 2d Georgia Regiment) near Brunswick.  It is published semi weekly at 30 cents per month, upon the material formerly used by the Brunswick Advocate.  We wish it success, as the undertaking is a highly laudable one.  By means of it we can learn the state and condition of our brave army encamped near Brunswick.  It is edited with considerable ability.

The Macon Telegraph (Bibb County); Friday 19 July 1861; pg. 4 col. 2

            A correspondent of the Waynesboro South a private in the Burke Sharp Shooters, writes from camp Semmes, Brunswick, July 8.  “A large ship is reported as lying about seven miles off the bar.  We are in a helpless condition should she determine upon our evacuation of this point.  If they attempt to land a force, however, beyond the protecting fire of a ship’s guns, the blood of the 2d regiment will flow like water, and bear fitting testimony to the patriotism and gallantry of old Georgia’s sons.”

        Lieutenant commanding Gibson, of the U.S. gunboat Senora, under date of Duboy [Doboy] Sound, Sept. 28th, says that on the night of the 22d ult. he sent an armed boat crew up the Altamaha River and destroyed Hudson Place Salt Works, near Darien, Georgia, entirely demolishing boilers, engines, vats, &c., and bringing off Jas. H. Lockwood, Superintendent, his two children and a free negro; other employees and visitors fled at the approach of the force. The Works were situated within two miles of a rebel encampment, whose pickets came very near the Works, but they did not discover or resist the attack.

The Burlington Weekly Hawkeye (Burlington, Iowa); Saturday 31 May 1862; pg. 3 col. 2

The Savannah News of the 17th says two Yankee steamers opened fire on Darien on Friday. No damage.

The Daily Chronicle & Sentinel (Augusta, GA); Monday 7 July 1862; pg. 1 cols. 1 & 2

From the Savannah News, 5^th.

A CONTRABAND RETURNED FROM THE YANKEES

            We saw yesterday, at the office of Messrs. Blount & Dawson a negro man named Robert belonging to Mr. Francis M. Scarlett, of Glynn county, who has just returned from a visit to his friends at Hilton Head, James Island and other Yankee localities.  He ran away from his master’s place, near Waynesville, in March last, took a boat and went to St. Simon’s Island.  He discovered three gunboats off St. Simon’s, one of which hailed him.  He approached the steamer, and received from them a countersign.  He was then told to go to another one of the gunboats, and when hailed, to give the word “Contraband.”  He then approached the steamer indicated—the Pocahontas—gave the countersign, and was taken on board.
            He remained on board the Pocahontas eight days, during which time he was kept steadily at work, scouring decks, &c.  While on board the gunboat, she attempted to go up the Altamaha river, but was prevented from going as far as Darien in consequence of pilings, which they were unable to remove.  While on this trip she sent a boat with eight or nine men ashore to procure fresh meat and other pickings.  The boat was fired into by Confederate pickets, killing three and wounding two others.  The survivors immediately returned to the Pocahontas, and the dead were subsequently buried on St. Simon’s Island.
            From the Pocahontas he was transferred to a steamer, the name of which he does not remember, and taken down on the Florida coast.  Here he was placed on board the Wabash, and shortly afterwards taken to Port Royal.  While at the last named place, he worked on the wharf in loading and unloading Yankee steamers, for which he was promised $8 per month.  He worked two months but received pay for only one.  He afterwards worked a short time in a saw-mill and received no pay.  He was then employed by Major White of Massachusetts, as a body servant.  The Major promised to pay $10 a month, but after repeated application for pay, stated that he had no money.  He asked Robert how he would like to go to Massachusetts, who replied “very well,” but says he had then determined to come back home as soon as an opportunity offered.
            From Hilton Head Robert followed the Yankee troops to North Edisto, and finally to James Island.  He remained on the last named Island three weeks, during which time the battle of Secessionville [sic] was fought.  A few days after the battle he succeeded in eluding the Federal pickets, and passed into our lines.  He was subsequently sent to Charleston and afterwards turned over to his master.
            Robert states that the Yankees are organizing companies of contrabands, at a place called “Fish Hall,” or Hilton Head, and that it is their intention to form them into a regiment.  He explains the modus operandi by which the negroes are induced to enter the service.  Religious meetings are held, at stated periods, at which a Rev. Mr. Wilson officiates.  At these meetings an “enrolling officer” was always present, who proceeded to take the names of the able-bodied men present.  These were asked to volunteer, and those who refused—by far the greater number—were forcibly sent to Fish Hall and mustered into service.  He attended one meeting, which was addressed by a colored brother from the North.  A sentinel stood at the door, (as was the invariable custom) while the colored brother harangued his audience in behalf of a church in Canada, and a forced contribution was taken up at the expense of the imprisoned contrabands.  This was the last meeting Robert attended, and he reports that the audience were at last accounts growing distressingly thin, the general impression being that their colored orator pocketed the money, and allowed the church in Canada to look after itself.
            Robert reports the negroes on Hilton Head dissatisfied, and many of them anxious to escape.  The island is closely guarded, and escape is next to impossible.  A negro attempted to get away, while he was on the island, and was shot.  The negroes are worked from daylight until eight and nine o’clock at night.  They are allowed no privileges, and are very cruelly treated, and on very slight offences, they are closely confined and put on bread and water.
            Robert’s experience has given him a very unfavorable impression of the Yankeedoodles generally, and of their military colony on Hilton Head particularly.  From his own report he has good reasons for preferring to live in Dixie.

BRILLIANT SUCCESS OF NEGRO TROOPS—REBEL SALT WORKS DESTROYED. LARGE CAPTURES OF PRISONERS AND STORES

Correspondence of the New York Tribune.
On Board Steamer From Ft. Monroe to Baltimore, Nov. 14, 1862.

            Events of no ordinary interest have just occurred in the department of the South. The negro troops have been tested, and to their great joy, though not contrary to their own expectations, they have triumphed, not only over enemies armed with muskets and swords, but over what the black man dreads most, sharp and cruel prejudices.
            Gen. Saxton, on the 28th of October, sent the captured steamer Darlington, Capt. Crandell, down the coast of Georgia, and to Fernandina, Florida, to obtain recruits for the 1st Regiment South Carolina Volunteers. Lieut. Col. O.T. Beard of the 48th New York volunteers, was given the command of the expedition. In addition to obtaining recruits, the condition and wants of the recent refugees from slavery along the coast were to be looked into, and if, occasion should offer, it was permitted to “feel the enemy.” At. St. Simons, Ga., Capt. Trowbridge, with thirty-five men of the “Hunter Regiment of 1st South Carolina volunteers” who had been stationed there for three months, together with twenty-seven more men, were received on board. With this company of sixty-two men, the Darlington proceeded to Fernandina.
            On arriving a meeting of the colored men was called to obtain enlistments. The large church was crowded. After addresses had been made by the write and Col. Beard, 100 men volunteered at once, and the number soon reached about 125. Such, however, were the demands of Fort Clinch and the quarter-master’s department for labors, that Col. Rich, commanding the port, consented to only twenty-five men leaving. This was a sad disappointment, and one which some determined to not bear. The twenty five men were carefully selected from among those not employed, either on the fort, or in the quarter-master’s department, and put on board. Amid the farewells and benedictions of hundreds of their friends on shore they took their departure, to prove the truth or falsity of the charge. “The black man can never fight.” On calling the roll, a few miles from port, it was found our twenty-five men had increased to fifty-four. Determined not to be foiled in their purpose of being a soldier, it was found that thirty men had quietly found their way on board, just at break of day, and had concealed themselves in the hold of the ship. When asked why they did so their reply was.
            “Oh, we want to fight for our liberty and for the liberty of our wives and children.”
            “But would your dare to face your old masters?”
            “Yes, yes, yes; why, we would fight to death to get our families,” was the quick response,--No one doubted their sincerity. Muskets were soon in their hands, and not time was lost in drilling them. Our steamer, a very frail one, had been barricaded around the bow and stern, and also provided with two twelve-pounder Parrott guns. These guns had to be worked by black men, under the direction of the captain of the steamer. Our fighting men numbered only about 110 and 50 of them were raw recruits. The expedition was not a very formidable one, still all seemed to have an unusual degree of confidence to its success.
            What had been done the day previous, and what had been accomplished on the day of sailing, is described as follows by Lieut. Col. Beard in his report to Gen. Saxton.
            “On Monday, Nov. 3, with the steamer Darlington, having on board Captain Trowbridge’s company, colored troops (62,) I proceeded up Bell River, Florida, drove in the rebel pickets below Cooper’s, destroyed their place of rendezvous, thence proceeded and destroyed the saltworks, and all the salt, corn and wagons which we could not carry away, besides killing the horses. Thence we proceeded to Jolly river and destroyed two saltworks, with a large amount of salt and corn. Thence we proceeded to St. Mary’s and brought off two families of contrabands, after driving in the enemy’s pickets.
            “On Tuesday, Nov. 4, proceeded to King’s Bay, Georgia, destroyed a large saltwork in a creek about a mile from the landing, together with all the property on the place. Here we were attacked by about eighty of the enemy, of whom we killed two.”
            This was the first place where the troops were brought under fire. They had all (about thirty in number) just got into the small boats, when the enemy suddenly rushed out of the thick woods and fired upon them. Their condition was a perilous one, the enemy being not over ten rods distant, and the steamer still further off. Nothing daunted, the men loaded and fired coolly and incessantly, till safe on board. A warm fire was opened at once by the men from the steamer, and one of our Parrotts played well its part. It was marvelous that under so heavy a shower of bullets, not a man was wounded, though many balls were lodged in the steamer and barricades.
            Nov. 6—The first landing this day was on Butler’s Island, from which the troops brought off quite a quantity of rice. The next landing was at Darien, Ga., where two prisoners and some arms were taken. The pickets fled at the approach of our troops. Lieut. Walker, of Captain Trowbridge’s company, who had been left in charge of part of the company on St. Simons Island, accompanied by twenty-five men, had crossed over in small boats a few days before our arrival, and had captured, in Darien, the Assistant Provost Marshal. One of our new prisoners stoutly objected to being marched to the small boats by his negro captors. He swore a white man was entitled to more respect; but the overjoyed negroes could not see the force of his argument or profanity.
            The women and children (about fifty) taken from St. Simons on the day previous were now landed for safety at St. Catherines as a more hazardous work was to be undertaken. Much of the night was spent in getting wood and cooking meats, rice and corn for our women and children on shore, and for the troops. The men for the steamer, killing beeves needed no “driver’s lash” to incite them to labor. Sleep and rest were almost unwelcome, for they were preparing to go up Sapelo River, along whose banks on the beautiful plantations, were their fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives and children—Weeks and months before some of the men had left those loved ones, with a promise to return, “If de good Lord jis open de way.”
            At 5 o’clock on Friday morning, Nov. 7, we were under way. Capt. Budd, of the gunboat Potomska, had kindly promised the evening before to accompany us past the most dangerous places. On reaching his station in Sapelo Sound, we found him in readiness. Our little fleet, led by the Potomska, and followed by the Darlington, sailed proudly up the winding Sapelo, now through marshes, and then past large and beautiful plantations. It was very affecting to see our soldiers watching intensely the colored forms on land, on saying in the agony of deepest anxiety, “Oh, masir, my wife and chillen lib dere,” and another singing out, “dere, dere my brodder,” or “my sister.” The earnest longings of their poor, anguish-riven hearts for landings, and then the sad, inexpressible (except by sighs) regrets as the steamer passed, must be imagined—they cannot be described.
            The first intelligence was made at a picket station on Charles Hopkins’ plantation. The enemy was driven back; a few guns and a sword only captured. The Potomska came to anchorage, for lack of sufficient water, a few miles above, at Reuben King’s plantation. Here we witnessed a rich scene. Some fifty negroes appeared on the banks, about thirty rods distant from their master’s house, and the same distance from the Darlington. They gazed upon us with intense feeling, ultimately turning their eyes toward their master who was watching them from his piazza, and toward our steamer, which as yet, had given them no assurance of landing.—The moment she headed to the shore, their doubts were dispersed, and they gave us such a bowing welcome as angels would be satisfied with. Some of the women were so filled with joy that they ran, leaped, clapped their hands, and cried, “Glory to God! Glory to God!”
            The Darlington rested directly in front of the old planter’s door. About eighty men were formed in line of battle in the front yard, and some thirty were employed as scouts. The men were not all landed before the dark subjects of the patriarchal institution were rushing for the boat. It only required about fifteen minutes to gather their liberal supply of “old duds.” As they were coming with bundles on their heads, children in their arms and on their shoulders, loaded also with pigeons, pots, trays, chickens, ducks, and squealing little pigs, I ventured my unhallowed feet upon the piazza, when I met the planter and a widowed daughter, who was joint owner of the fleeing “chattels.” Salutations being exchanged, I remarked to the lady, “This is a sad morning to you.”
            “Yes,” said she, “this seems hard.”
            You may consider yourself fortunate in being thus providentially relieved of the responsibility of going to the judgment with the blood of these people upon you.
            “If it were the wish of Providence, then let him take them by death,” replied she. But their life is worth more than their death. “It is a divine institution.”
            If it were divine, we replied, it would relieve them of their rags and filth, renovate their dark and loathsome cabins, open the school house to their children, and cease to sell husbands and wives, parents and children. You see how eagerly they rush to us, with a thousand benedictions, while they express no kind regards to you. The good lady had no reply, except that the negroes were all their dependence.
            After relieving the old planter and daughter of $20,000 worth of humanity, i.e., fifty-two slaves, and the leather of his tannery, we re-embarked. Our boats were sent once and again however, to the shore for men, who, having heard the steam whistle, came in great haste fro distant plantations.
            As the Potomska could go no further, Capt. Budd kindly offered to accompany us with one gun’s crew. We were glad to have his company and the service of the crew, as we had only one gun’s crew of colored men. Above us was a bend in the river, and a high bluff covered with thick woods. There we apprehended danger, for the rebels had had ample time to collect their forces. The men were carefully posted, fully instructed as to their duties and dangers by Col. Beard. Our Parrotts were manned, and everything was in readiness. No sooner were we within rifle-shot than the enemy opened on us a heavy fire from behind the bank and trees, and also from the tops of trees. Our speed being slow and the river’s bend quite large, we were within range of the enemy’s guns for some time. How well our troops bore themselves will be seen by Capt. Budd’s testimony.
            Our next landing was made at Daniel McDonald’s plantation. His extensive and valuable salt works were demolished, and he himself taken prisoner. By documents captured, it was ascertained that he was a rebel of the tallest kind.—We took only a few of his slaves, as he drove back into the woods about ninety of them just before our arrival. One fine looking man came hobbling down on a crutch. McDonald had shot off one of his legs about eighteen months before. The next plantation had some 500 slaves on it; several of our troops had come down from it, and also had relatives there, but the lateness of the hour and the dangerous points to be passed on our return admonished us to retreat.
            Our next attack was expected at the bluff.—The enemy had improved the time since we parted them in gathering reinforcements. Col. Beard prepared the men for a warm fire. While everything was in readiness, and the steamer dropping down hard upon the enemy, the write passed around among the men, who were waiting coolly for the moment of attack, asked them if they found their courage failing. “Oh, no mas’r, our trust be in the Lord. We only want a fair chance at ‘em,” was the unanimous cry.
            The fire was immediately opened upon us by the enemy, numbering from 80 to 100 men.—Our troops returned the fire with effect. Two of the enemy soon fell headlong from the trees, and several on the ground soon fell. Only three of our men were wounded, and they ceased not firing till the enemy had, yet the blood completely covered the face of one who had been struck by a ball in the forehead.
            Most people have doubted the courage of negroes and their ability to stand a warm fire of the enemy. The engagements of this day were not an open field fight to be sure, but he circumstance were peculiar. They were taken by surprise, the enemy concealed, his force not known, and some of the troops had been enlisted only two days. Capt. Budd, a brave and experienced officer, and yet witness of both engagements, has kindly given his opinion, which we are sure will vindicate the policy, as well as justness, of arming the colored man for his own freedom at least.

U.S. Steamer Potomska, Sapelo River, Ga.; Nov. 7
            SIR,--It gives me pleasure to testify to the admirable conduct of the negro troops (1st S.C. Volunteers,) under the command of Lieut. Col. Beard, 48th N.Y. Volunteers, during this day’s operation. They behaved splendidly under the warm and galling fire we were exposed to, in the two skirmishes with the enemy. I did not see a man flinch, contrary to my expectations.
            One of them particularly came under my notice, who, although badly wounded in the face, continued to load and fire, in the coolest manner imaginable.
            Every one of them acted like veterans.

Very respectfully,
Wm. Budd, Acting Lieut. Com’g Potomska.

To the Rev. M. French, Chaplain, U.S.A.
            On reaching his ship, Capt. Budd led our retreat. It had been agreed, after full consultation on the subject, that, in our descent down the river it was best to burn the buildings of Capt. Hopkins and Col. Bailsford. Both of these places were strong picket stations, particularly the latter. Bailsford had been down with a small force a few days before our arrival at St. Catherine’s and shot one of our contrabands, wounded mortally, as was supposed, another, and carried off four women and three men. He had whipped to death three weeks before, a slave for attempting to make his escape. We had on board Sam Miller, former slave, who had received over 300 lashes for refusing to inform on a few of his fellows who had escaped. He had been the owner of several of our troops and of their friends.
            The troops landed in these places under the guns of the Potomska, and quickly did their work. The first place a magazine was blown up. At the latter was a strong force, but the shells were too much for them. The sun had gone down when the troops landed, and the enemy had the advantage of darkness. Still our men went back half a mile, firing cabins, outhouses, and finally the splendidly furnished mansion of Col. B., sparing only his sword and saddle. All this work was done in the very face and eyes of the enemy, and yet such was their terror of black men armed that they dare not make an attack. The en all reached the steamer by the small boats without loss.
            I would here remark that the men were not allowed to take any article for their own use, nor indeed did they seem anxious to do so. To damage the rebels, rescue their friends, and show that they could be “sogers,” seemed the one desire of their hearts. It was truly surprising to see how rapidly and expeditiously they could land; after leaping from the small boats into the water knee-deep, and climbing up the banks, then would rush into the woods as fearlessly as a dog after a fox. They felt perfectly at home, scouting in the woods, and were an awful terror, as we had reason to know, to the enemy. Their intimate knowledge of the rivers made them invaluable as pilots.
            On passing among the men as we were leaving the scenes of action, I inquired if they had grown any to-day. Many simultaneously exclaimed:
            “Oh yes, massa, we have grown a’most three inches,” said Sam; “I feel a heap more of a man.”
            With the lurid flames still lighting up all the region behind, and the bright rays of the smiling moon before them, they formed a circle on the lower deck, and around the hatchway leading to the hold, where were the women and children captured during the day, and on bended knees they offered up sincere and heartfelt thanksgivings to the Almighty God for the mercies of the day. Such fervent prayers for the president, for the hearing of his proclamation by all in bonds, and for the ending of the war and slavery, were seldom, if ever, heard before. About one hour was spent in singing and prayer. Those waters surely never echoed with such sounds before.—It really seemed, sometimes, as if we could almost hear the angels chanting over us, the old son of Judes, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, and good will to men.”
            We refer again to Col. Beard’s report. He says: “The colored men fought with astonishing coolness and bravery. For alacrity in effecting landings; for determination, for “bush” fighting, I found them all I could desire, more than I had hoped. They behaved bravely, gloriously, and deserved all praise.”
            Our steamer left Beaufort without a soldier, and returned after an absence of twelve days with one hundred and fifty-six fighting colored men, some of whom dropped hoe, took a musket, and were at once soldiers, ready to fight for the freedom of others. The troops made thirteen landings on the main between Fernandina and Fort Pulaski, destroying nine large salt works, together with some $20,000 worth of salt, corn, rice, horses, &c., which could not be brought away. About seventy slaves were taken from their rebel masters, while our steamers brought back the scars of 150 of the enemy’s balls. The men entered Beaufort singing the John Brown song more heartily, I venture to say, than it was ever sang before. The negroes now think they will be ready when the brigade is completed, to take the job of putting down the rebellion.

            A Hilton Head letter of the 17th states that Montgomery’s expedition, consisting of the 54th Mass., the 2d South Carolina and Brayton’s R.I. battery, proceeded up St. Simons Sound, Ga., and Tuttle [Turtle] River, above Brunswick, on the 8th, and destroyed a railroad bridge over Buffalo Creek.
            The expedition also ascended Attahama [Altamaha] river on the 11th above Darien, and captured a schooner laden with 40 bales of cotton and brought her away. The expedition then returned to St. Simons Island, without the loss of a man, and awaited orders from General Gilmore[?] and the supply of certain defects of what was found necessary to its work.

Fort Monroe, June 21.
            Richmond papers of the 20th say that the city of Darien, Ga., was burned by the federals on the 11th inst., and is now one plain of ashes and blackened chimneys. Seven iron-clads and were at Brunswick, Ga., and large forces had landed from transports. Vallandigham has run the blockade from Wilmington. He is going to Nassau and thence to Canada.

CORRESPONDENCE OF THE N.Y. TRIBUNE—INVASION OF GEORGIA BY COLONEL MONTGOMERY

Hilton Head, June 17, 1863
            Early on the morning of the 11th inst., Col. Montgomery left St. Simons Island, where his brigade is now encamped, to present his compliments to the rebels of Georgia, having the week before sent them to those of South Carolina.
            This force consisted of five companies of the 2d South Carolina, eight companies of the 54th Massachusetts, Col. Shaw, all negro, and the 3d Rhode Island battery, Capt. Brayton, and the transports Sentinel and Harriet A. Wood, constituted the fleet.
            The expedition ready, the order was given to sail through Doboie [Doboy] Sound and up the Altamaha river, the largest stream in Georgia, to the village of Darien, which is said to have contained before the war some 2,000 inhabitants, most of whom were wedded to the rebel cause.
            As the John Adams approached the village she poured a constant shower of shot and shell into the woods, along the shore and into the town, as she came up to the wharf. The few “crackers” and paupers remaining in the place ran frightened and terror stricken in every direction, and when Col. Montgomery landed his troops, he found not a single armed inhabitant to dispute his right. Through the activity of some of the negro soldiers, a few of these poor “white-trash” were caught, who told the story of there being a strong cavalry force within five miles of the place, which may or may not have been true. At any rate, Col. Montgomery, from the information obtained from them, did not desist from his original purpose, but marched nearly his whole force into the town, posted his sentries and prepared to do his work.
            In a few hours all the valuable property he could find, of a movable character, was transferred to his boats. A large class of second-class furniture, considerable livestock, horses, cows, and sheep, and rice and corn sufficient to feed his command for at least a month, was thus disposed of.
            The inhabitant driven out and the town sacked, the nest step in Col. Montgomery’s programme was to burn and destroy everything he could not carry off with him. In a few moments the principal buildings were all in flames, and, a strong south-west wind prevailing at the time, the whole village was soon enshrouded in flame and smoke, and before the expedition returned not a single tenantable habitation remained.
            Darien destroyed, Major Corwin of the 2d South Carolina took the Harriet A. Wood and proceeded up the river in search of a rebel craft he had heard of through some negroes. When four miles up the stream he found the report to be correct, and overhauled and captured a copper-bottomed schooner, a large flat-boat, and 80[?] bales of long staple cotton, estimated to be worth $30,000. Major Corwin was absent from Darien two hours, and when he returned with his prize, was received by the Massachusetts and South Carolina negro soldiers with nine tremendous cheers.
            These bold, rapid and successful expeditions of Col. Montgomery are spreading terror throughout the entire coast, and are compelling the rebels to abandon their rice and cotton fields, and all the smaller villages which would be at all likely to be visited by him.

The New York Times; Sunday 28 August 1864; pg. 1 col. 4

CAPTURE OF THE BLOCKADE RUNNER LILLIAN.

Boston, Sunday, Aug. 27.

            An officer of the United States transport Massachusetts, arrived here today, reports that the blockade-runner Lillian, for Nassau, N.P., was captured on the 25th inst. off Wilmington by the gunboats Gettysburgh and Keystone State and transport Massachusetts.  Several shots were fired at her before she surrendered, one of which took effect two feet below the water line, producing a bad leak, and another cutting off a man’s hand.  The leak was stopped, and the prize taken into Beaufort, N.C. [sic].  She will be sent to Boston.  Her cargo consisted of 721 bales cotton, 50 of which were thrown overboard.  The Lillian is an iron vessel, and very fast.  Her Commander is said to be Capt. MAFFITT, formerly of the pirate Florida.

[Another article states the capture happened on the 24th ult.--ALH]

WHERE [WILL HE?] STRIKE

            This is the question to Gen. Sherman, which puzzles the rebels, and interests, as well, loyal hearts. It s about time to hear from him through our own sources; and our government doubtless thinks so, as the steamer Fulton has left New York with mail for Sherman’s army.
            The place spoken of most by the rebels as Sherman’s objective point on the coast—laying aside Charleston and Savannah—are Beaufort, Darien and Brunswick.
            Beaufort is in South Carolina, about two-thirds of the way between Charleston and Savannah, on an island. The main land is in rebel possession, but we have forces in Beaufort and Port Royal, the entrance to Broad River, up which Beaufort Stands.
            Darien is in Georgia, sixty miles down the coast from Savannah, at the mouth of the Altamaha river. There—and vicinity—was the scene of Fanny Kemble Butler’s experience when she resided on her husband’s plantation, and in the midst of the worst slavery section of the world.
            Brunswick is twenty miles further down the coast, and is the terminus of a railroad that, striking into the interior, connects with a railroad running from Savannah southwest across Georgia toward Florida. [Chicago Journal.

            NEW YORK, Dec. 9—Richmond papers of the 7th say that Sherman’s campaign is drawing to a close. He is approaching the coast by way of Darien and Savannah, but we have a formidable force between those points, which he will have to encounter before reaching either point. We think Sherman is done with strategy and will now attempt to break through our forces and thus attempt to reach the sea coast. Things will culminate this week. We think Sherman is in a critical condition.

[Further down column]

            NEW YORK, Dec. 9—The Commercial’s Washington special says Richmond papers of Wednesday contain no information about Sherman, but predict his defeat before he can reach Savannah or Darien.

WHERE GRANT EXPECTED SHERMAN TO “COME OUT.”

            General Grant and the War Department expected Sherman to reach a sea-board base at Brunswick or Darien. The rebel press almost unanimously hit upon the former point. Sherman improved vastly upon all these forecasts, and has a base where he prosecutes the siege of Savannah with whatever swiftness he may choose to employ.

MURDER OF A BRITISH CONSUL AT BRUNSWICK, GA.

            Savannah, Ga., Sunday, July 7.--E.J. Westmoreland, British Consul at Brunswick, Ga., was killed at that place by Capt. Martin on the 6th inst. The deceased had only been married four hours. Martin was arrested and brought to this city. A gross mystery exists regarding the affair.

Warren Village (Haverstraw, New York) Thursday 15 August 1867; pg. 1 cols. 5 & 6

A TRAGEDY IN REAL LIFE

            In Brunswick, Ga., a beautiful young lady, of barely eighteen years, was married at eleven o’clock on the morning of the 5th instant, and at four o’clock in the afternoon of the same day her husband was shot dead by an unsuspected rival.
            The name of the murdered bridegroom was Eardley G. Westmoreland.  He was an Englishman of good family, and held the office of British Vice-Consul for the city of Brunswick.  He came to this country during the war to represent an English mercantile house which had some relations with the South.  He remained in Brunswick after the war, and entered into partnership with General John B. Gordon, in the saw mill business.  Mr. Westmoreland was a young man of fine education, refined and accomplished, and, in all the relations of life, maintained the strictest of integrity and the highest sense of honor.  The name of his rival and assassin is Edgar, or Egbert J. Martin.  He was born in Virginia, and says he is a nephew of General Edward Johnson, of the confederate army, and that he served on his staff until General Johnson was taken prisoner, when he joined the Confederate artillery as lieutenant.  He came to Brunswick in January last on some business, and there made the acquaintance of General Gordon, with whom, after a time, he entered into partnership in planting rice on the Altamaha River.  He also made the acquaintance of young Westmoreland, and for a time they were on friendly, and even intimate terms.  But a coldness and estrangement grew up between them; they were both the admirers of one young lady.  This feeling originated with, or was first apparent on the part of Martin, and he exhibited it in an ungracious if not offensive manner.  One day, while Westmoreland was in conversation with a gentleman and his daughter Martin passed by, and Westmoreland said to him, “Stop Martin, and I will go with you.”  Martin made no reply and, indeed, seemed not to hear it.  Westmoreland repeated the words, when Martin answered, “Thank you, I prefer my own company.”  The next day Westmoreland asked for an explanation, and Martin replied he might interpret it in any way he thought fit.  This led to a challenge from Westmoreland, which was accepted by Martin, but the interference of three gentlemen of authority in such matters, prevented duel; not, however, without difficulty, and only by earnest appeals to both young men.
            From this time the estrangement between them was complete, though they did not cease entirely to speak to each other.  They were both the open and avowed suitors of the young lady, and each one thought his own chance the best.
            Thus stood matters, when a third suitor arrived from New York for the express purpose of pressing his suit—a young German gentleman, every way worthy to aspire to so fair a hand.  His presence seemed to bring the affair to a climax, and to determine young Westmoreland, who was in reality the favored lover and secretly engaged to the young lady, to bring the affair to a conclusion.  They had agreed to elope and be married.  An elopement was rendered necessary in consequence of the violent opposition on the part of the young lady’s parents to the pretensions of Mr. Westmoreland.  This opposition was most decided on the mother’s part.  She had forbidden all intercourse between them, and did not know that they ever met.  But they wee lovers, and they did meet.  A clandestine intercourse had been kept up from the time that he was forbidden the house.  On Thursday, July 4, a note written by Mr. Westmoreland to his affianced, and unfortunately entrusted to inexpert hands to deliver, fell under the yes of the mother.  At once she knew all.  She reproached her daughter, but her daughter was firm and avowed her determination to marry Mr. Westmoreland.
            The next morning, Friday, July 5, the parents obtained a marriage license, sent for a minister, peremptorily summoned Mr. Westmoreland to their house, and had the young pair married.  But their blessing did not rest on the head of their child; no sooner was the marriage ceremony ended than the young couple were told to leave the house.  They went forth unblest.
            Mr. Westmoreland having no house of his own, and intending to leave Brunswick the same evening, took his bride to his office, and informed his friends of his marriage.  During the day they received several visits, and among those who called was Martin.  So generous and trusting was the future of young Westmoreland, that he went out and left Martin alone with his wife.  Martin assured her that as she was married to Westmoreland he would not pursue any felling of resentment against her husband and left her with the impression that he meant to forget and bury the past.  From here he went to call on the parents of the bride, but what passed between them is not known.
            About four o’clock in the afternoon—the marriage had taken place at eleven in the morning—Martin was walking along the street and met the young German suitor, who had arrived in Brunswick a few days before.  Martin asked him to accompany him down the street, and they walked together until they came opposite the door of Westmoreland’s office.  The latter was sitting on the doorstep in conversation with a gentleman who had called to speak to him on business.  The young bride was in an inner room preparing for her departure in the steamer Sylvan Shore that very evening.  Martin, leaving his companion, walked deliberately up to Westmoreland, drew a pistol, and without a word, fired.  The ball entered full in the breast.  Westmoreland rose and exclaimed, “My God!  Martin, what have I done that you should shoot me?”  Martin fired a second time, and the ball struck the groin.  A third time, though his victim had fallen, did he pull the trigger, but only the cap exploded!
            Westmoreland spoke no other words; he breathed a few minutes, and life was ended.
            Martin was instantly arrested by the United States officials and taken to Savannah to be imprisoned and tried for murder.

Grand Traverse Herald (Traverse City, Michigan); Friday 15 November 1867; pg. 1 col. 3

            It will be recollected that a few months since, Mr. Westmoreland, the British Consul at Brunswick, Georgia, was shot dead in about an hour after his marriage, by his unsuccessful rival, Major Egbert Martin. The case came up before the Superior Court of the district a few days ago, but it being found impossible to get a jury, the court adjourned and Martin was released on $20,000 bail. Of course, that will be the last of it, and Martin will go unpunished.

The Macon Weekly Telegraph (Bibb County); Tuesday 22 February 1870; pg. 8 col. 5

A GRAND JURY IN LIMBO

            We stated yesterday that the Grand Jury of Glynn county had been fined by the Judge of the Brunswick Circuit, twenty-five dollars for contempt of Court in their General Presentment, or in default of payment, sentenced to twenty-five days’ imprisonment.  They had chosen the latter, and there being no jail in Brunswick the sheriff had incarcerated them in the jail at Savannah, where the intended to sue out a writ of habeas corpus before Judge Schley, of the Eastern Circuit.
            As this case is likely to attract some attention we append the facts more in detail, as gleaned from the Brunswick Appeal, of the 11^th instant.  The following was the Grand Jury Presentment:
            GRAND JURY ROOM, GLYNN COUNTY}
            February 8, 1879}
            We, the Grand Jury of the adjourned February term, make these, our general presentments:
            While we congratulate our citizens that every convicted colored offender found guilty by a legal jury has been sentenced by the Court, and they are now undergoing the penalty due their crimes, and are prevented for a time at least the opportunity of repeating or renewing their offences, we regret that a white criminal found guilty by the same jury of a far more heinous offence than any alleged to have been committed by those who are now paying the penalty of their misdeeds, should, under the administration of our laws or the interpretation of them, be permitted to go at large; and while w are placed without our seeking, in a position that requires us to diligently inquire into, and true presentments make, of all offences, we feel we are engaged in a solemn farce, and mockery of law and we have no encouragement to offer our people that the present enforcement of law affords them any adequate protection against the commission of crime.
            We are painfully alive to the fact how futile all our efforts for the establishment of law and order have been rendered by the action of the Court I admitting to bail one convicted of assault with intent to murder, against whom an indictment is standing for murder in the first degree.
            We have the honor to be,
            Very respectfully.

Hamilton A. Kenrick, Chm’n.
Frances E. Kemp
Edward L. Harvey
L.H. duBignon
Joseph Dangaix
Horace B. Robinson
Alex. Peters
James T. Blain
J.C. Goodbread
Burr Winton
Alex. B. Forrester
William A. Couper
Benjamin M. Cargyle
Joseph W. Roberts
Horace Dart
John B. Habersham
Sylvester C. Littlefield
Geo. W. Aymar
Roland B. Hall

            Upon the conclusion of the reading of the presentments, the Judge rebuked and discharged the Jury.  He then ordered the Clerk not to spread the presentments upon the records of the Court.  After discharging the Jury, he issued the annexed order:
            It is ordered and adjudged that each of said Grand Jurors, having used such disrespectful and contemptuous language in regard to the action of this Court, be and he is hereby adjudged in contempt of the Court in the premises, and that they and each of them pay a fine for such contempt in the sum of twenty-five dollars each, or in default thereof be confined in the county jail of said county, or in such other jail as the Ordinary of said county of Glynn may direct, for the full term and period of twenty-five days; and it is further ordered, that the sheriff of said county be and is hereby commanded and directed to execute this order.
            W.M. SESSIONS, J.S.C.B.C.
            The appeal declines to express an opinion about the affair.  The presentment is evidently in contempt, but we are unable to say how much or how little it might have been merited by the Court.

The Georgia Weekly Telegraph and Journal & Messenger (Macon, GA); Tuesday 27 April 1875; pg. 1 cols. 5-7

EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE—CAMP OF THE FUN, FIN AND FEATHER CLUB, CUMBERLAND ISLAND, April 16, 1875.

            The writer at the appointed hour put in an appearance on the quay at Brunswick, and was warmly greeted by the genial band of amateur sports, who had kindly invited him to participate in the stirring adventures and pleasures of a short hunting and fishing campaign, said the tangled fastnesses, ocean heaved sand eminences, still lakes, and druidical retreats of Cumberland, the most extensive island on the Atlantic coast of Georgia.
            They had chartered for the excursion PILOT BOAT NUMBER THREE, commanded by Capt. Russell, the veterant [sic] “salt,” who, for his many courtesies, had just been presented by the club with an elegant mariner’s compass, of which he was not a little proud.
            The “Fur, Fin and Feather” men had left nothing undone for the thorough equipment of the expedition.
            An organized association with ample funds at interest, they had ordered AN IMMENSE TENT of middle proof canvas, having attached an extensive “fly” to protect their table, with comfortable servant’s quarters, and by the skill of Winston, the jolly steward, laid in a stock of supplies almost equaling the luxuries of a stampeded Federal general’s quarters, in the early part of the war.
            There were no less than seventy-two dozen of bottled soda water for teetotalers, (a good sign), one keg of “lager,” sundry mysterious packages well protected against breakage, hams, canned fruits, bread, crackers, pickles, butter, lard, sauces, tongues, rice, two barrels of ice, a box of lemons, etc.
            In short the published order of the president was “RATIONS FOR TWENTY MEN.”
            And it was duly filled with articles fit for the diet of a prince, and enough to last for an indefinite period.  Added to these was the “camp cheat,” containing a complete outfit of tin plates, knives and forks, spoons, table linen, goblets and cooking utensils.
            About 11 A.M. of the 13^th inst., the beautiful craft unloosed from her moorings with the following company on board:
            FIRST, THE CLUB PROPER, composed of the following gentlemen:  Col. John T. Collins, President; Capt. George A. Dure, Vice-President; L.P. Anderson, Secretary and Treasurer; A.J. Smith, Reporter; B. Winton, Steward; D.T. Dunn, S.E. Davenport, I.N. Shannon and G.C. Fahm.
            To these must be added the invited guests, who were:  W.H. Anderson, W.R. Bunkley, B.A. Fahm, C. Doerflinger, F. Lebere [Lassere?], W.H. Bunkley and the Macon scribe.  Many others were invited but failed to appear, among the number Col. Thomas Hardeman, Jr., whose letter in response was replete with wit and kind feeling.
            Of course the hounds, cook and staff of servants were on hand also.
            THE VOYAGE TO CUMBERLAND, distant about twenty-five miles, afforded the most perfect enjoyment to all on board.
            Azure skies and a spanking breeze blowing dead aft, a craft that sat like a duck in the water and seemed to respond intuitively to the mandate of helm and sail, and an atmosphere cool and delicious, left nothing wanting to the enjoyment of the party.
            These pilot boats are wonderful specimens of man’s skill and ingenuity.  Mere cockle-shells in size, they are yet so deftly constructed as to defy the stormiest sea, and live, where huge argosies and monarchs of the ocean go helplessly down.  Our skipper CAPTAIN RUSSELL, OWNER AND COMMANDER OF NO. 3 was a native of Deerfield, Massachusetts, and a thorough seaman.  His vessel was built at Waterbury, Connecticut, of white oak, copper-sheathed and fastened and measured eleven tons only, while so deep was her keel that in ballast she drew seven feet water.  This little sloop though graceful as a swan, embodied the elements of strength and speed in a wonderful degree, and on we sped at about ten knots an hour, the sea foam curling over her prow, and sails and mast, bending and bellying to the breeze.
            As usual we “quizzed” the Captain as to his craft and calling, and learned that her first cost was $2,000 and she carried the enormous amount of FOUR HUNDRED YARDS OF CANVAS which, when all set, almost lifted her out of the water.
            Six pilot boats belong to Brunswick, and cruise for hundreds of miles in quest of incoming ships.  The first that speaks a vessel is entitled to navigate her in and out of port, and rates both ways, vary from $100 to $200, according to the tonnage of the ship.
            About $2,000 is the amount earned by each of these boats annually, and their crews are exposed to fearful hardships and dangers.
            But now we have sped along the entire coast of Jekyl Island, eight miles in length, and are dancing upon the white caps of ST. ANDREW’S SOUND at the mouth of the great Satilla.
            Here, two or three of the passengers looked pale and miserable, and we suspect the stomach pump of old Neptune was diligently plied by them.  The greenies didn’t know Col. H.J. Lamar’s remedy of “drawing a bead” upon a bolt in the side of the vessel, while sitting statue like for hours amidships.
            But the agony was soon over, and the bounding craft cast anchor at the high point of Cumberland Island.  Then followed quickly the landing in the yawl of the hunters and their paraphernalia, and ere long, the baggage stowed in Mr. Bunkley’s wagons, the line of march was taken up for the fishing and hunting ground upon the “inlet,” two and a half miles distant, on the opposite or eastern side of the island.
            Arrived, all hands went to work, and in a trice the MAMMOTH TENT was spread, the cock spurs and crow feet raked off, the ground covered over with a natural matting composed of palmetto leaves, a roaring fire kindled, the coffee pot, approximating in size to a tank of the gas-works, put to boiling, and in little or no time a bountiful meal placed before the half-famished voyagers, who had eaten nothing since breakfast.
            The site chosen was in an open space, within biscuit-throw of the inlet, and well protected from the wind by a dense thicket of live oak and small growth.
            Some parties went birding and fishing at once, and ere dark returned with a goodly supply of the finny tribe, and some snipe and waterfowl.
            THE CAMPAIGN WAS FAIRLY OPENED, and now ensued a scene of joyous merriment, enough to banish every anchorite from the face of Christendom.
            It is delightful to realize that we are now beyond the reach of telegraphic influence, whether by cable, grape vine or otherwise, and perfectly independent of all the world “and the rest of mankind.”  If Grant saw fit with the aid of the “boys in blue,” to make a coup de tat and declare himself perpetual dictator, or forty cyclones swept the country and wrecked the continent generally, on this little ocean-washed isle, inhabited by turtle, red deer, the feathered tribe, and an occasional specimen of the genus man, all would still remain tranquil and happy.  It would resemble the still nook caused by the eddying waters on the edge of a rushing cataract, where contrary and opposite forces have created a dead calm, and all is peace and quiet in the midst of the surrounding roar and turmoil.  Its very remoteness and insignificance would be the secret of our safety and tranquility.  Let us paint the scene.
            A lofty bluff with old ocean in the distance, and hummocks of white sand cast up by the deep, fringing the perspective—a blazing fire of live-oak logs illuminating the capacious tent, where many genial spirits, sober as judges, are playing chess, drafts and euchre, but neither drinking or betting—the quiet stars and “horned moon” looking placidly on—all around, the sweet refrain of that cheerful night songster, the whippoorwill, breaking upon the ear—the attending darkies slumbering and snoring in their tent, oblivious of care of responsibility—pointers and hounds prowling around, seeking in vain to invade the larder of our vigilant steward—the muffled thunder of the surf breaking upon the strand and sounding like the faint reverberations of the battle field—these, and other influences, lend a weird and fascinating aspect to this bivouac of friends and sportsmen, camped and associated together, not for mortal combat, thank God, but to cultivate and promote the best instincts and social promptings of our nature.
            In this coterie are embraced large-souled [sic] noble Northern men, who have long since bridged “the bloody chasm” and cast in their lot with the unfortunate South.  They have brought with them the sinewy power of capital, kind hearts, wise heads, and a thorough devotion to their new home.  All honor to such men.  They are the avant couriers of that bright epoch when past ascerbities [sic] and deadly feuds shall be forgotten, and the American Union become once more a homogeneous, united, and irresistible power among the nations of earth.  May God speed the dawn of that glorious day.
            CHARACTERISTICS OF THE CLUB—A few hours only, of companionship, sufficed to show that our amateurs were made up of a happy affiliation of the choicest spirits.
            The President was courteous and dignified, yet ever vigilant in maintaining the rules and regulations of the camp, which were formally set forth in the by-laws.  It is due to his associates to say also that, never disputing his authority, they yielded implicit obedience to all of his suggestions.  The other officers and members likewise deported themselves as gentlemen, and during our entire sojourn on the island, not one word of unpleasantness or recrimination marred the perfect harmony of the scene.
            But there were UNCONSCIONABLE WAGS in the crowd, whose jokes and humor constantly effervesced like the bubbling soda water which was so plentifully imbibed, and occasioned prolonged roars of laughter.  Reporter Smith, who wields a spicy and graceful pen, and private Shannon, a foeman worthy of his steel, and withal a splendid specimen of the frank-hearted Tennessee hunter, were constantly at it, “hammer and tongs.”  Some of their bon mots and passages at arms were brilliant, and perfectly convulsing.
            But we don’t intend to steal Brother Smith’s thunder, and will leave the details of these bloodless tilts to his own graphic powers of description and imagination.  In due time they will be spread upon the minutes of the club, and appear in the columns of the Sea Port Appeal, and will doubtless reach our readers.
            VICE PRESIDENT DURE, an old denizen of your city, is one of the leading spirits of the expedition.  Ready of speech, witty, and always good humored and hilarious, he carried fun and mischief wherever he moved.  Fahm and Davenport are fisherman par excellence, and rarely take gun in hand.  They were pitted against each other on this occasion as contestants for the prize in fishing.  The writer, whose tastes incline in the same direction, was their constant companion on the water, and never saw a pair more equally matched.  Woe be to the sheep-head or whiting that touched either line.  In a twinkling they were made to see daylight.  The race was a drawn one until the last day, when a change of “drop” proved disastrous to Davenport, and his antagonist came out some fifteen ahead.
            The quantity of fish taken almost exceeds belief.  Before the line could reach bottom they struck greedily at the bait, and frequently one was drawn up on each hook.  Even the unpracticed deponent scored two hundred and eleven, exclusive of cats, toads, etc.  Not less than FOUR BUSHELS WERE THROWN AWAY after supplying all the wants of the camp.  In the number were included young drum, bass, whiting, sheep-head, trout, black fish, croaker, yellow tails and alewives.
            The sport was simply splendid, and prawn for bait, in abundance.
            To resume our description of the dramatis personae of the hunt.
            L.P. ANDERSON was a man of “infinite jist,” and a good hunter and clever fellow.  He carried a fowling piece almost equal to a swivel in bore, and which it was said was charged with fifty buckshot to the barrel.  He was one of the fortunate ones who brought down an “antlered monarch of the forest,” and Smith swore that his field piece mowed a path like a cyclone through the woods, and left its victim bleeding in the midst.
            To one thing we can avouch.  Never did such portentous shot holes perforate the carcass of any quarry.  They resembled huge augur borings, and that luckless animal didn’t know what hurt him.
            STEWART WINTON is the very embodiment of a good looking well-fed caterer, and presided like a Crimean French artist (cook) over the duties of his department.  He was also a keen sportsman, and eagerly followed the hounds, though he bagged no game.  The whole party are much indebted to Mr. Winton for their comfort and enjoyment, while socially he was the equal of any.
            OF THE GUESTS we have nothing to say, save to commend the delicious music of Mr. Doerflinger on the accordion.  His touch was almost magical, and night after night he drew from that instrument such dulcet notes, as left the hearer in doubt whether the music emanated from a violin, piano, harp, French horn, guitar, “sack-but or dulcimer.”
            In fact it was a happy combination of them all.  Of the Bunkleys, however, who are native Islanders, and their fathers before them, it is but an act of justice to state, that in person, and with their hounds, and fresh milk, and vegetables, they contributed no little to the enjoyment of the party.
            One gentleman, however, we had very nearly overlooked, and yet he is one of the main springs and salient spirits of the club.  It is to D.T. DUNN, ESQ., that allusion is made.  Those who heard his felicitous remarks at the “regular meeting” of the club, will not soon forget them.  Mr. Dunn is a whole-souled, liberal, genial New Yorker, who has planted his stakes in Brunswick, and is an enthusiastic member of the organization.  There is no evidence that he can hit a barn door with small shot, or is much better at fishing, though it was rumored in camp that he did catch two cats and nine toad-fish, which hooked themselves.  But for all that he is an indispensable member for his other good traits, and Shannon and Smith have promised to put him through a course of training in gunnery on the beach, where there is no danger of hitting any body, while Fahm and Davenport don’t despair of learning him to catch a trout or sheep-head after some years’ practice.
            THE TROPHIES OF THE HUNT—Those who followed the hounds jumped twenty-one deer, and killed—it is not for us to say (as we were not present) how many.  This will duly appear in the chronicles of the club.  But the deponent will, if necessary, make his “affidavy” that they kept the camp in venison all the time, and sent one fat deer, equal to any Esau or Nimrod ever slew, to Brunswick.  In the way of birds, too, there were doves, snipe, plover, teal duck, etc., that were brought in, of which, however, we kept no account.  In the “fur” line, only, the expedition was a failure—not a solitary mink or coon having been captured.  But Captain Dure bragged of a porpoise he had slain and landed on the beach.  When, however, a party volunteered to bring him in, the doughty Captain averred it was about ten miles off, and all, much to his relief, “backed out.”
            CLOSING SCENES—On Friday, the President, Mr. Dunn, one of the Andersons, Mr. Fahm, and the deponent returned to Brunswick, the others vowing they would stick it out several days longer.
            Of the incidents at the regular meeting of the club, which was held on the night previous, we may not speak, in anticipation of reporter Smith’s official and amusing narrative.
            We can only say that nearly every m ember perpetrated some happy hit or speech, which brought down the “tent,” and certain ceremonies and presentations took place, so ludicrous and inimitable, that we are almost tempted to be guilty of violating the proprieties and reproducing them.  But this would be a breach of privilege and confidence, and we forbear.
            Agreeably to custom, the camp received a name, and tho writer would be wanting in courtesy if he did not gratefully acknowledge the compliment to his paper and city, by the bestowal upon it of his own universal patronymic.
            Thus ended our share in the hunting and fishing expedition of the Fin, Fur, and Feather Club of Brunswick.  Genial gentlemen all, and boon companions, we shall not soon forget their attentions, and the intense enjoyment derived from their pleasant society.
            There was no excess of any kind, no hasty words spoken, and not a single contretempt [sic] to mar the pleasure of the excursion.  On the contrary, we bear away a host of delightful reminiscences, mirth stirring anecdotes, and ludicrous incidents, which must be reserved for the fireside and friends at home.  Time and space will admit of nothing more.  H.H.J.

The Atlanta Constitution; Tuesday 19 August 1884; pg. 2 col. 1

GEORGIA GOSSIP—SHORT TALKS WITH THE SCRIBES OF THE COUNTRY PRESS—A Negro Man Tied to the Track of a Railroad – Homicide in Doughtery County – The Rice Crop in a Splendid Condition – A Riot in Brunswick – Other Items of Interest.

            The Brunswick Herald says that a negro man was securely tied across the railroad track about four miles north of Eastman on Friday night; the train came thundering along and cut his head from his body.  The train stopped and immediately the vicinity was alive with negroes who had doubtless bound the man to the track, and were hypocritically lamenting the occurrence of the tragedy.
            [Paragraphs omitted as they dealt with other counties—ALH]
            Darien complains of the regularity of Saturday night tragedies among the colored people.  The knife and the razor are its favorable weapon.
            James Maxwell, a colored man living in the neighborhood of Carnaghan bridge, McIntosh county, was bitten on both ankles, by a large rattlesnake on Saturday afternoon last, while looking for his cow.
            Darien Gazette:  Captain A.S. Barnwell commenced cutting rice on Thursday and will get the first shipment to Savannah again this year.  The crops throughout the county and on the Altamaha river are in a splendid condition and the prospects for a most successful harvest were never better.  The recent heavy rains have bothered the planters but little, and we therefore think that the rice interests of this section will show up well this year.  We hope so anyway.
            [Paragraphs omitted as they dealt with other counties—ALH]
            The first bale of long or sea island cotton was purchased in Waycross on Thursday by Mr. W.J. Smith, at six cents per pound, in the seed.  It was raised by Mr. Travers Pittman, on the Okeefeenokee swamp.
            Waycross Headlight:  Messrs. Lester and Ravenel, of Savannah, and Colonel John C. McDonald, of Waycross, have filed suit in Pierce superior court against the Savannah, Florida and Western railway for $20,000 damages in favor of Mrs. Chauncy Folks, whose husband, it will be remembered, was killed in a collision last February.
            Brunswick Herald:  About noon yesterday a report reached this city that a riot was in progress at the upper wharf.  The police went promptly to the scene.  It was found that the affair had been greatly exaggerated, but that an affray between three colored men, Paul Austin, Massey Scarlett, and Hampton Scarlett, Massey Scarlett had been stabbed in the shoulder with a knife, the blade of which had been so deeply embedded in his body that the point could not be pulled out.  Scarlett was brought to Brunswick and Dr. Burford tried to extract the blade, but it resisted all efforts at extrication.  Austin is in jail.  H. Scarlett escaped unhurt.

The Daily Enquirer-Sun (Columbus, GA); Friday 3 December 1886; pg. 3 col. 1

            When Mr. W.F. Doerflinger, of Brunswick, was thirteen years old he broke off the point of a jeweler’s “rat tail” file in one of his finger joints.  Last Sunday, twenty-seven years afterward, it pained him for the first time.  So turning surgeon, he split open his finger, and with the aid of Mr. Ed Bingham, took out the file point.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 5 April 1888

Pg. 3 col. 4

            Sunday’s Brunswick Journal gave an account of a mysterious pistol report early Sunday morning.  It now transpires that some one was trying to burglarize the residence of Mr. W.F. Barkuloo and hence the pistol shots.  Mrs. Barkuloo woke up about 2 o’clock Sunday morning and saw a man sitting in her bed room window.  The man had a long pole or stick to which was attached a handkerchief saturated with chloroform and was waving it over the sleepers.  Mrs. Barkuloo was very much frightened and attempted to wake her husband, but he had become so much under the influence of the drug as to be deaf to her entreaties.  She then screamed, which woke up Mr. Scarlett here father, and he came to her room to find out the trouble.  The two together aroused Mr. Barkuloo who seized his pistol when made acquainted with the facts and fired three shots, but the would be burglar was out of range before this time and escaped unharmed.

The Augusta Chronicle (Richmond Co., GA); Tuesday 24 September 1889; pg. 1 col. 2

CHASED BY A BLACK MOB—A Brunswick White Man Narrowly Escapes Negro Lynchers.

            BRUNSWICK, Sept. 23.—[Special.]—A sensational shooting scrape occurred yesterday morning about 2 o’clock, in which J.H. Minehan (white) shot and probably fatally wounded Frank Golden (colored).
            Minehan, by instructions of his lawyers, refused to talk.  Golden says that the shooting was without provocation.  It occurred in front of Golden’s saloon, on Mansfield street.
            As soon as the shot was fired a crowd of negroes gathered, and Minehan ran, the crowd following, yelling:
            Catch him!  Catch him!  Kill him!  Kill him!
            The town was aroused, and as Minehan ran up Bay street several came down Monk street to join him.
            Arriving at the Ocean hotel he saw it was useless to continue farther, as he would be overtaken and probably killed.  He stepped in the front door and held the mob of infuriated blacks at bay with his pistol.
            Officer Goodbread arrived on the scene at the same time warning his pursuers to leave.  They seemed loathe to leave, and followed both Minehan and Goodbread to jail.
            Fearing serious trouble, orders were again given to this crowd to disperse, and the words this time had their effect, as one by one they left from around the jail.

The Evening Post (Brunswick, Georgia); Tuesday 29 April 1890

Pg. 1 Col. 6

TUESDAY’S TRIFLES (SOCIETY)
            The street cars are rapidly nearing completion.
            Ground was broken this morning for the new city market.
            Mr. H.S Barkuloo and bride will tender a reception for the Brunswick Riflemen this evening at their residence on Grant Street.
            H.M. Miller & Sons, who have been temporarily over the store of J. Michelson, have moved back to their old quarters on Richmond Street.
            A new safe was put in the Ordinary’s office this morning.  It weighed 3100 pounds, was furnished by Messrs. Bowles & Baker.
            About 1 o’clock to-day a horse attached to a four-wheeled wagon ran down Newcastle Street, and succeeded in demolishing Dr. Tucker’s buggy, and finally riding himself of the vehicle, by running into another wagon in front of Busbee’s fruit store.

Pg. 1 Col. 6

PERSONAL MENTION
            Cards are out for the marriage, on Wednesday evening, May 7, of Mr. Constant Miller, of Brunswick, and Miss Letitia Harrell, of Quitman.

The Evening Post (Brunswick, Georgia); Friday 9 May 1890

Pg. 1 Col. 5

PLEASANT RECEPTION
            Tendered Mr. and Mrs. Constant Miller Last Night.
            The social event of the season was a reception tendered Mr. Constant Miller and bride last night at their residence on H Street.
            The happy couple arrived yesterday afternoon and were met at the depot by a special committee of the Atlantic Band.  From there Mr. and Mrs. Miller were driven to their future home on B Street.
            All during the afternoon friends of the groom’s family called to pay their respects to the bride.
            Last night, about 8 o’clock, guest began to assemble at the residence, and when the hours of the clock pointed to the hour of nine, the parlor and reception rooms were filled to overflowing.
            During the evening Mr. McDuffie’s orchestra discoursed sweet music to the happy throng.  At 11 o’clock the doors of the spacious dining room were thrown open and the guests were invited in to partake of the choicest viands.
            Mr. and Mrs. Miller were the recipients of numerous and costly presents.  Notable among the gifts was that of the Atlantic Band, which consisted of a beautiful and costly set of silverware.
            At 12 o’clock, the guest dispersed satisfied that Mr. Miller had made an excellent choice in the matrimonial field.

Pg. 1 Col. 7

FRIDAY’S FINDINGS
            The stone work on the new city hall is rapidly progressing.
            Complaints are being daily made as to the lack of lights in the northern suburbs.
            The material for the cells in the county jail will arrive tomorrow and work will be commenced next week.

PERSONAL MENTION
            Lewis C. Hoover, left for Jekyl Island this morning, to make a map drawing of the club house and grounds.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 23 November 1890

Pg. 22 col. 2

            The news of the nuptials of Mr. Albert Hilsman, of Macon, and Miss Annie Belle Scarlett, of Brunswick, which were celebrated in Brunswick recently, has caused many congratulations to pour from Atlanta to the happy couple.
            The wedding took place at the residence of the bride at “Fancy-Bluff-Across-the-Bay,” in Brunswick a few nights ago.  The attendants were Mr. Mason Scarlett, with Miss Julia Iverson, of Columbus, and Mr. W.P. Robertson, of Anniston, Ala., and Miss Fannie Scarlett, of Brunswick.  The ceremony was conducted by Rev. S.R. Shaw, of Augusta.
            There is no couple better known in the social circles of south Georgia than these, and at their future home in Macon they have the sincere congratulations and best wishes of hosts of friends.

The Columbus Enquirer-Sun (Columbus, GA); Saturday 1 August 1891; pg. 1 col. 7

GENERAL FLUKER KILLED—A NOTORIOUS NEGRO SHOT DOWN WHILE RESISTING AN OFFICER.

            BRUNSWICK, Ga., July 31.—At Jessup today Marshal Goodbread killed General Fluker (col.), an escaped murderer from Brunswick, while attempting to arrest him.  The verdict of the coroner’s jury was justifiable homicide.

The Columbus Enquirer-Sun (Columbus, GA); Thursday 10 September 1891; pg. 1 col. 4

A BRUNSWICK SHOOTING—THE MYSTERIOUS WOUNDING OF A COLORED WOMAN.

            BRUNSWICK, September 9.—[Special.]—Alice Westmoreland, a mulatto woman in the employ of G.A. Hanson, white, who keeps a restaurant on Oglethorpe street, was shot between 11 and 12 o’clock last night in Hanson’s restaurant.  The shooting, according to the statement of the woman and Hanson was accidental.  The latter says that he threw his pistol on a table, when it was discharged, the ball entering the left ear of the woman, ploughing through the fleshy portion of the base of the head, coming out three inches in the rear of the ear and making a scalp wound on his head.  The wound on Hanson was examined by your correspondent and it was evident that it could only have been made by some blunt instrument, and not by a bullet.  According to the statement of Mr. S.T. Goodbread, who rents the building in which the restaurant is located, and runs a bar in an adjoining room, and others, the woman is a paramour of Hanson’s.  She was found lying on a pallet in a closet adjoining the restaurant.  When questioned she confirmed the story as told by Hanson.  She told Mr. Goodbread, however, this morning that the shooting was intentional, Hanson married a sister of Goodbread about two years ago, and deserted his wife and two children in Boston.  The woman is not seriously wounded.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 26 October 1893; Pg. 2 col. 3

SHOT IN A BARROOM—Jelow, a Roustabout, Kills a Cripple at Brunswick—The Dead Man Gave No Offense—An Exciting Pursuit in a Boat and the Murderer Captured—Says He Was Shooting at Another Man.

            Brunswick, Ga., October 25 (Special)—William Jelow shot and killed Raford Curry at 6:30 o’clock tonight in William McClure’s barroom, known as “The Office,” located in the rear of the vacant building at the corner of George and Bay streets.  The murder was cold blooded and cowardly.  Jelow’s mind was frenzied by drink and the refusal of a barkeeper to give him more.
            The murderer was a roustabout.  Curry was a peaceful cripple who of late has tried to lead a quiet life, moving about the streets on crutches, while the stump of one limb from above the knee dangled, a reminder of an accident when at work once on a pile driver.
            Jelow, the murderer, staggered into the bar and called for a drink.  Frank Scott, the bartender, refused to hand it out, saying:
            “Billy, you’ve had enough.”
            “You say I am drunk, take that,” exclaimed Jelow as he jerked out a pistol and pulled the trigger.
            The bullet sped harmlessly into the wall, Curry, who was standing quietly by drew away.
            “Take this,” yelled Jelow as he backed out of the door and fired the second time.  This ball struck Curry who began falling.
            “And this,” and another ball struck Curry, who fell to the floor.  Jelow backed further away and Scott ran out facing him, clearing Curry’s prostrate from at one bound.  Again the pistol was raised.  A passerby, Horace Robinson, rushed to the murderer’s side and grasped his arm.  The scene was intensely dramatic.  Robinson swung to Jelow and begged him not to shoot again.  A crowd quickly assembled.  With an oath the murderer broke from Robinson and fled.
            Curry had died almost instantly.  He was hit twice in the breast by the bullets.  Rev. Father Hennessy came by but he was too late to be of assistance.
            The saloon was closed and a crowd started in search of Jelow.  Sheriff Berrie, on horseback, rode at breakneck speed through the streets and woods posting the guards.  This proved unnecessary, for across the bow of his schooner, Matt Henry Heywood observed a man pulling hard against the tide.  Heywood jumped into a boat and gave chase.  He called to Jelow to stop.
            The pursued dropped his oars and said:
            “I give up.  Don’t shoot.”  Turning his boat around Jelow rowed silently to the shore.  His captor followed with a drawn pistol.
            On the wharf Lee Curry stood swearing vengeance against his brother’s murderer.  In the nick of time help arrived and Curry was led off and Jelow carried to jail.  Jelow made a statement in his cell.  He denied any intention to kill Curry and said he shot at Scott in self-defense.  Jelow has a son who bears a good reputation.
            The barroom where the killing occurred was the scene of another murder recently.
            Mayor Lamb will hold an inquest tomorrow.  The coroner is gone and Justice Coker is sick.  To the horror of the epidemic three murders have been added.

[On 3 September 1893, William McClure shot and killed John Kelly, coroner’s jury pronounced it murder.  McClure’s only statement was that he shot Kelly.—ALH]

The Atlanta Constitution; Friday 27 October 1893; Pg. 3 col. 3

DENOUNCING THE JURY—Citizens Indignant at a Verdict of “Accidental Murder”

Brunswick, Ga., October 26 (Special)—The coroner’s jury today in the murder of Curry rendered a verdict of “accidental murder.”  The jury as a whole was composed of representative citizens.  The verdict was the best the officer could get under the circumstances.  This verdict subjected the jurors to bitter denunciation on the streets today.  Justice Coker who got out of a sick bed to hold the inquest state that he told the jury, when they handed in the verdict, that it was nonsensical, foolish and unknown to law.  He advised them to let the lawyers say whether it was accidental or not.
            Sheriff Berrie expressed surprise at the verdict.  Assistant Chief of Police Robert Levison, who was instrumental in capturing the murderer, said the jury acted strangely.  Chief Beach could see no sense in the verdict.  The murder was cold blooded and some of the witnesses before the jury are accused of having lied straight out.  Ben Hansen, the chief witness, whose name was given as Olsen last night, has been sent to jail by Justice Coker on account of his testimony.  Judge Coker, and the citizens generally, denounce the jury’s verdict in unmistakable terms.

The Atlanta Constitution; Tuesday 6 February 1894

Pg. 2 col. 2

            A report which reached Brunswick yesterday that Mr. Frank M. Scarlett, a wealthy and respected citizen of Glynn county, had killed J. Keen, of Wayne county, has been confirmed.
            The story as told is to the effect that Keen made a violent attack on Scarlett and to save his own life, Scarlett struck him with a quart bottle, which happened to be the only weapon at hand.
            Keen was killed almost instantly.  He was known as a desperate man and had been in many serious difficulties during his life.  Scarlett was in the city this morning and gave an account of the killing.
            He says Keen was drunk and, probably mistaking him for his brother, Joe Scarlett, with whom he was not on good terms, made the attack on him.  Scarlett sought to avoid a difficulty, but Keen persisted and left him no other alternative but to defend himself.  Scarlett says he regrets the affair very much, but it was unavoidable on his part.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 8 February 1894

Pg. 3 col. 2

            The coroner’s jury rendered a verdict of justifiable homicide in the case of Frank M. Scarlett, who killed J. Keene, several days ago, while Keene was endeavoring to kill him.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 17 October 1897

Pg. 26 (all) & 31

REMARKABLE LIFE OF GEO. BEE MABRY, OF BRUNSWICK—Relates The Rise of a Brilliant Young Man in Politics and Law.  WAS DRAGGED DOWN BY A SECRET CHAIN Now He Relates the Hallucinations Which Bound Him.—Colonel Mabry Tells the Checkered Story of His Eventful Life.  THE SPECTER LADY WHO WAS AT HIS SIDE He Was Chased for His Life by a Band of Imaginary Lynchers.

            A story strange and uncanny as that which follows demands that something should be known of its author—a man who once loomed so prominently before the people of Georgia, and whose light went out into such sudden gloom.
            George Bee Mabry was born in Macon, Ga., on July 25, 1855.  His father, Woodford Mabry, was collector of customs for the ports of Brunswick and Darien for sixteen consecutive years, up to the secession of the southern states.
            Young Mabry was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty years, was appointed consular agent of the Spanish government at the port of Brunswick in the spring of 1877 and served for a year, resigning in consequence of the famous Spanish bark, Teresa I Iguerus, case, in which the Spanish government made demand for reparation, on account of a posse from a justice’s court forcibly going aboard the bark and arresting the captain.  It was through his instrumentality and coolness that bloodshed was adverted, he being aboard the vessel when the posse approached and landed.  Shortly after his resignation he was appointed judge of the county court of Brunswick, and at the time he received his commission was the youngest officer in the state, being but twenty three years of age.  He served until the summer of 1880, when he resigned to take part in the campaign of Governor Colquitt against Judge Thomas M. Norwood, and when the legislature met that fall, he announced his candidacy for solicitor general of the Brunswick circuit, and after one of the hottest fights of the session he was elected over Judge J.L. Carter, of Appling county, and Colonel Ira E. Smith, of his own city.  Owing to the lateness of his announcement as a candidate, the bar of the entire circuit, with four exceptions, had indorsed one or the other of his opponents, and the legislators from his circuit were all pledged against him with two exceptions, Hon. T.W. Lamb, of his own county, and William M. Gaskins, from Coffee county.  So that out of the twelve votes in his circuit, he went before the legislature with but two of them.  Despite this handicap he was elected in a fair and high-toned race.  He served the term of four years to the perfect satisfaction of the circuit, and was voluntarily indorsed by the various grand juries for re-election when his term was ended, but his broken health impelled him to refuse.  After h is retirement he continued, though in a most miserable health, to endeavor to attend to his profession, but during the year 1887 he completely collapsed, and did nothing until his recovery in 1891 when he again opened his law office in Brunswick, and has been in practice ever since.
            The story of his reformation is fraught with many interesting incidents of struggle and failure, of desperate attempts and surrender again, and his final triumph over the power of the drug is, as stated by one of the physicians who at different times attempted his release, as “one case out of a thousand”.  His career during the period he was solicitor general was marked by vigorous prosecutions, shown by the conviction and execution of five criminals for capital offenses, and the conviction in Glynn county of the first murderer who had ever been sentenced to death in the history of the courts of that county, but who cheated the gallows two days before the day set for his execution by expiring in the jail of Chatham county.  He never speaks of his enthrallment to the terrible habit from which he escaped, unless approached by some sufferer who desires to know “how he reformed,” at which time his advice is freely given.  He again made the race for his old office of solicitor general at the last term of the legislature, his name being placed in nomination before the caucus by former Governor James S. Boynton, but he was defeated.
            He is now living quietly, engaged in his professional duties and occasional literary work.
            And now for the story, which he tells under his own signature.
            At an early age I was sent away to the University of the South, and for a long period my only associates were the students and such chance acquaintances as I happened to meet and become intimate with.  I was of a genial disposition my ability and attainments not above the average and I was generally liked by my associates.  After leaving the university, owing to failure of my financial support, I came back to my home in southeast Georgia and commenced the study of the Law, was admitted to the practice in due time, and as the saying goes “swung my shingle to the breeze,” gathered a paying clientage, commenced to make a little money and settled down in earnest to the realities of life.  Four years after my admission to the bar I was elected for a term of four years solicitor general of the Brunswick circuit embracing nine counties, and served the term, working hard and from the congratulatory expressions of the grand juries and the people generally, I believe I served the state faithfully.  So much as an introduction.
            The hallucinations, or illusions, of which I shall give account all occurred during a period of three years during the time I held the state’s commission referred to as solicitor general.  The cause of those illusions, or hallucinations was attributed by learned physicians to an excessive use of morphine and opium to which habit I became a slave in the beginning of the last decade of years.  I have no doubt now and I had no doubt then of the truth of that diagnosis, my daily supply was enormous—ten grains of morphine hypodermically administered.  In justice to myself now I declare with solemn emphasis that I have been for a number of years entirely free from the habit and that what follows in the narratives is written under the dictation of a brain unclouded by narcotic stimulant, or other excitant, and I simply record the incidents as reproduced by a memory as clear and faithful as ordinary men are endowed with, asserting most positively that each hallucination, or illusion, as I narrate them, occurred.  I leave the learned to explain under the laws or science of metaphysics the phenomena.  I do not attribute my cure to any strength of will or constitutional ability to withstand the terrible agony that must be endured in throwing off the yoke of captivity to the opium habit but partly by accident, that placed me where I could not obtain the drug and therefore had to endure, and partly through the aid of a medicine, potent, I believe to give relief if taken as directed (and therein lies the secret of the medicine’s failure) my cure was effected and I again lived, and now live a free man.
            HALLUCINATION FIRST—A Woman as Prosecutrix—It was during the spring term of Glynn superior court that I was called on as solicitor general of the Brunswick circuit to prosecute a case of peculiar local interest.  The night before the case was called I heard my door bell ring, and on going to answer the call a lady stood on the threshold.  She was a stranger, I had never seen her before.  Of medium height, finely modeled, blue eyes and black hair (a combination seldom seen), a woman anyone would unhesitatingly pronounce beautiful.  Before I could utter a word of salutation or inquiry this stranger spoke raising her hand in a warning manner, and a hand it was of snowy whiteness.  “colonel, I trust this call is not inopportune, but I am your friend, although you do not know me I know and appreciate the fact that you are not well.  On tomorrow your strength and brain will be taxed to the uttermost and I have come to say that I am going to constitute myself your alter ego.  I will become a part of yourself and aid you.  Ask me nothing, I will not answer.  Some day you will know.  Goodnight.  I started to speak to follow her as she passed down the front steps and into the street.  I could not move but stood with straining eyes and watched her retreating figure as she passed down the sidewalk out of sight.  Slowly I closed the door and went back to my library.  Think as I did speculate as I did I was completely dumfounded.  Of three things I was certain first that I had never seen the lady before, second I had no idea who she was, and third, I could not divine the cause of her interest in me, or her object in volunteering to aid me.  “Of course I will politely decline her assistance” I thought “the idea of a lady aiding the solicitor general in a prosecution is ridiculous.”  I sat till long after midnight, and then retiring slept soundly until morning.  After a light breakfast, I walked to my office, thinking of the strange occurrence of the night but no “fair lady in white” did I encounter greatly to my relief for somehow I rather dreaded the curious aspect of the novel situation.  After arranging my papers and telling my office boy to say to any lady who might call that I would not be able to see any one that day I repaired to the courtroom.  On the way I met a lawyer friend (Frank H. Harris) and confidentially related my night’s experience to him.  He laughed heartily and made some remark about “some old sweetheart whom I had forgotten come to renew acquaintance,” which sally I indignantly denied.  Arriving at the courthouse we went inside the lawyers’ pen or part of the room reserved for the bar, and I felt greatly relieved to see that my fair visitor of the night before was not in sight.  I finally concluded that the woman I had seen was some adventuress who had endeavored to interest me in her welfare—but court was called to order and the clerk began to call the jury.  While his voice was sounding in monotones the names of the jurors I suddenly felt a light hand rest on my shoulder and the lady of last night, smiling bowed and passing to my right sat in a vacant chair by my side.  I leaned over and tried to offer her my hand but it seemed that a slight paralysis caused my movement to be stayed.  I spoke in a low voice and bid her good morning, to which she whispered “You must not even look at me.  I am here to aid you.  If you speak to me or look at me it will create comment against you, mind you, against you be passive to my will and I will lead you.”  The strangeness of the woman’s actions in thus putting herself in such a position completely mystified me, but a strange feeling of passive obedience took possession of me, and completely controlled me.  I was impelled by an unknown force, a subtle weird influence, to submit to a condition, in which my mind seemed to take its work by a system of mental induction from the strange sibyl at my side.  It was a most delightful sensation.  Sir Thomas More in his creation of Utopia must have been as I, at the time, felt—so safe and strong under the protecting smile of my lady.  After the impaneling of the jury the case of the state vs. Horace Cadone was called.  The state and defendant both announcing ready, the battle was begun.  Legal talent of high order was arrayed against me.  I was then twenty-six years of age.  At every stage of the trial they assaulted the state’s case but surely and fully the web of guilt was woven, and the state closed.
            The argument—my brain seemed to be mellowed, and yet strengthened, by the softest soporific soothed and calmed by the melodious whispers of the strange being at my side.  The facts of the case, as developed by the witnesses, grouped themselves in wonderful symmetry and sequences.  Every salient point of the defense was marked in my mined.  The crime, the evidence, the defense, the law bearing on the case, all stood in my brain.  Not a point or utterance of counsel, court or witness escaped me.  I did not see the crowded courtroom.  I heard not the noise from the street.  I was oblivious to all save the case and the whispers of my lady.  I made my argument without effort perceptible to me only.  I knew the woman by my side was intently watching me.  I swear I felt her presence.  I know that she was gulking [sic] me and I was strong.  I had the concluding argument—I finished, reeled to a chair, and for a brief moment was unconscious, at the instant being aroused by the judge’s stern rebuke of a ripple of applause that came from the spectators.  I looked to the seat where my lady had sat.  She was not there but I swear I felt her warm breath on my cheek and heard her whisper “goodby” [sic].  The next morning the following article appeared in The Advertiser.  “In the case of the state vs. Horace Cadone filed yesterday the solicitor general made a magnificent speech and masterly argument.  All who heard it pronounce it a great effort, that none like it was ever before heard at this bar.”  I was confined to my bed for some days after the trial.  The good doctor pronounced my illness “nervous prostration.”  After my recovery, fearing comment I carefully inquired about the lady who had sat by me during the trial.  No one had seen her there, or elsewhere.  The truth dawned on me but to me she had been a living presence.  I would know her voice or whisper in the darkness of Erebus.  GEORGE B. MABRY
            CHASED BY LYNCHERS—There had been a “lynching bee” in Coffee county, in the Brunswick circuit.  A tramp named Willie Johns accused of burning the store of Daniel Lott, was the victim.  At that time there was a feud between the Lott and Curry families, and at the fall term of the superior court strenuous efforts were made to indict certain members of the Lott faction as the perpetrators of the crime.  I drew the indictment and laid it before the grand jury but owing to the lack of available evidence the jury returned “no bill,” but with the instruction of that body to prefer another bill at the next session at which time it was expected the evidence would be forthcoming to fix the crime on the guilty ones.  About two months after court had adjourned I received an anonymous letter, in the following terms:
            “Colonel G.B. Mabry, Solicitor General.  Brunswick, Ga.—Sir.  As a friend I advise you not to press the Willie Johns case any further.  The Lotts are strong and influential and your life will be in danger if you persist.  You had better stay away from court next term and it will probably be dropped.  Take my warning.  A FRIEND.
            “P.S.—I cannot give you my name as I am afraid the Lotts would get hold of it and do me harm.”
            I immediately consulted Judge Mershon (at that time judge of the circuit), and he advised me to pay no attention to it, but to “keep my eyes open.”  I heard nothing more from any one of a threatening nature, and when the time had come for me to attend court I went in company with the judge and the attorneys who generally practiced in Coffee county.  We left eh train at a little station on the Brunswick and Western railroad (Pierson) on Saturday evening, and on Sunday rode through the county to Douglass [sic], the county site, arriving there about dark.  Of course I had been thinking of the lynching case, and of the anonymous letter, and although I believe I was a man of reasonable courage, I confess that a feeling of uneasiness pervaded me.  After supper I decided to ride over to Jonathan Peterson’s, a warm friend of mine, and talk over the Willie Johns case and find out anything he might know.  The night was clear, and a bright moonlight enabled me to see objects for some distance.  I had ridden about a mile when I distinctly heard some one hail me from the direction of Douglass, from whence I was riding.  I reined in my horse, a fine animal belonging to Joseph Lichtenstein, the tavern keeper, and listened without answering the call.  A cold chill crept over me, and then a feeling of horror, for I heard the tramp of many horses and loud voices cursing and threatening, and above the voices I distinctly heard Dr. Pat Hall a strong sympathiser [sic] of the Lotts, shout, “Come on, boys, he ain’t far ahead.  I was in the horse lot when Lichtenstein gave him his horse.  We’ll shoot him and put him in the swamp.  Come ahead.”  In an instant I seemed to be transformed, all of the chances and avenues of escape passed in a flash before me.  I was armed with a 38-caliber Smith & Wesson pistol, but I knew I would stand no chance of getting off alive in a battle with a crowd of armed men in pursuit of me.  Realizing this, I gathered my reins, urged my horse to a rapid gallop and guided him in the direction of Hazelhurst [sic], a small town on the Southern railroad (then the East Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia).  I did not believe that my pursurers [sic] would follow me where they would be known.  On and on I urged my horse.  I heard the shouts of my pursurers I heard the shots from their rifles and pistols.  I heard their oaths and maledictions and knew that a hidden grave in the “river swamp” would be mine if I was overtaken.  The distance I had to ride before I reached Hazlehurst was about ten miles.  I know not the time I was on the way but I do know that when the station light came in view I uttered a “thank God,” and crossing the the [sic] railroad track I leaped from my horse and rushed into the hotel office where a negro was asleep in a chair.  I told him to carry me out the back way and show me the house of Jim Curry who was marshal of Hazlehurst.  I literally dragged him through the hotel, for just then I heard the voices of my pursurers as they were crossing the railroad.  Out through the back yard through a little belt of pine saplings, and the frightened negro pointed to a small house surrounded by a garden as the home of Marshal Jim.  Grabbing him by the arm I fairly hissed, “I’ll kill you if you tell any one where I am.”  The negro promised and I sprang over the fence (I did not look for the gate) and running to the door called, “Jim, Jim, for God sake open the door.  It’s Mabry, I am in trouble.”  I heard him spring out of bed and walk to the door.  “Who is there?” he asked.  “It is Mabry open the door there is a crowd of men trying to kill me.”  The door opened and I passed in and hastily related my terrible ride, and then told him the party was in town near the hotel.  Hastily dressing himself Jim told me to wait until he returned and buckling his pistol around his waist went out.  It seemed to me that I lived an age in the brief half hour he was gone, the horror of that wild ride and my peril now impressed me with its awful reality.  I sat in silence.  Not a sound disturbed me although my sense of hearing was strained to the uttermost.  Finally I heard a gate open and footsteps ascending the stairway of the little house.  I was relieved to hear Curry’s voice say, “Open the door, colonel.”  I instantly turned the key and Jim stepped in, closing the door after him.  Hen then lighted a lamp and sitting down said, “Colonel, there ain’t any one in town that I can see or find out.  The station agent says he saw you when you galloped up to the hotel, as he is sitting up to give the train some dispatches, and that not a soul came after you.”  I felt relieved, but I knew he was mistaken.  However, I concluded that the lynchers had given up the pursuit, not daring to be recognized, and so telling Jim I would stay with him till daylight, I used the little hypodermic syringe I carried with me, and lying down on a couch was soon asleep, despite my determination to keep awake.  I was aroused just at dawn of day by Curry, and after bathing my face, I sat down and began to think over the events of the night.  Soon I was invited into breakfast, and the hot coffee revived me more than my sleep.  As soon as I had finished I related to Curry the incident of the anonymous letter, my intended visit to Peterson’s, the lynchers’ pursuit, and my determination to at once report the matter at court.  He seemed to doubt my statement, but my jaded horse and undoubted excitement the night previous, and positive assertion (added to my request) induced him to agree to accompany me on my return.  We started at once.  My return trip was devoid of any incident other than the meeting of Dr. Pat Hall at the intersection of the roads, about four miles from Douglass.  I saw him and recognized him at some distance away.  I got my pistol ready and told Curry to watch him.  As soon as he got in speaking distance he spoke to me in a courteous manner asking after my health and then inquired “What in the world are you coming from this direction for?  I thought you lawyers came by Pierson.”  He said “he was just from his home, ten miles away, on his way to court.”  His demeanor and conversation persuaded me that I had made a mistake in thinking it was his voice I had heard in the pursuing party of last night.  I, however, carefully interrogated him as to the pursuit making up my mind to find out the truth.  He laughed and remarked to me that I was not well, and that “he would advise me to take a good rest after we reached Douglass.”  The doctor had a flask of whiskey and invited us to take a drink, a common hospitality in that part of the county in those days.  I drank heavily from the flask.  The liquor seemed to clear up the mystery of the night before.  I all at once realized my situation.  I knew that I had been the victim of a vivid hallucination.  The experience of that awful ride, in front of a band of bloodthirsty lynchers, dwelt with me in memory for many a day, and I began the struggle to free myself from the cause, as I knew it.  Strange to relate, after reaching Douglass, and begging my two friends to say nothing of the occurrence, I repaired to the courthouse and attended to my duties.  I felt no ill effects from the terrible nervous strain to which I had been subjected, and preferred the bill of indictment in the Willie Johns lynching case, but the grand jury returned it marked “No bill.”  GEORGE B. MABRY.
            HALLUCINATION THIRD—My Only Murder—In the spring of 1883 the government dredge boat in the harbor of Brunswick was sunk by a Nova Scotia bark named Alice Roy.  The contractor filed his libel in the United States court at Savannah and I was employed by the owners of the bark to make the ship’s defense.  Judge Spencer R. Atkinson, attorney for the tugboat that had the vessel in tow at the time of the collision, and he, Captain U. Dart, and I went to Savannah to attend to the case.  After my business was arranged I went to my room at the Screven house, and after taking my usual dose of morphine, hypodermically, I lay down and was soon asleep.  I did not wake until after dark, and then I was aroused by voices in the next room.  I heard one of the men (as I recognized the people to be) say, “He is asleep now, we can easily unlock this door and go in, and to be sure we do not get into a rumpus by waking him up, I will give him the knife.”  I had about $200 in my pocket and felt sure it was the money they were after, until I heard a voice I recognized as that of Lawrence, the government contractor, say, “Damn him, if I get him out of the way, those Canadians will pay up the $10,000 and be done with it, but as long as he lives his infernal advice will keep us in hot water.”  I did not wait to hear more but quickly getting up, I drew on my shoes, and hastily putting on my coat, quickly unlocked my door and hurried to the office and asked the clerk to send up my card to the gentlemen in the room next to mine.  He did so.  My intention was to get some friend or the clerk himself to go with me and accuse Mr. Lawrence to his face of the dastardly intent evinced by the language I had overheard, but in a few minutes the bellboy came back and reported “No one in.”  I then asked the clerk who occupied the room.  He looked at me in a curious manner and said, “A gentleman from new York,” and began to look over the register for his name.  “Never mind,” I exclaimed.  I was then more certain than ever that it was Lawrence I had heard and that “the gentleman from New York” was his partner, who really did reside there, and who only came to Brunswick at intervals, presumably to see how the work was progressing.  I immediately ordered my valise to be brought down, settled my bill, and as it was nearly two hours before the night train left for Jesup, at which point I would change for Brunswick, I sat down and watched for Mr. Lawrence and “the gentleman from New York.”  I was growing more and more uneasy and nervous for I realized that the man must be desperate to resolve upon assassination to carry his point.  I resolved to say nothing to him until I reached Brunswick, where I was sure he would be in a short time.  Finally the bus driver came into the office and cried out, “All aboard for the Savannah, Florida and Western road.”  I pointed to my valise and passed out and took my seat in the omnibus and was soon at the depot.  I at once went aboard the train and in a few minutes was relieved to see Judge Atkinson and Mr. Dart enter.  They spoke cordially and presently Mr. Dart came over to my seat and we were soon engaged in conversation about our case, but somehow I kept thinking of Lawrence and “the gentleman from New York” and wondering whether they would be on that train bound for Brunswick.  But the train pulled out and was away for Jesup without my seeing anything.  After the first station was reached I went into the smoking car, and lighting a cigar, tried to compose myself, but somehow I was becoming more uneasy.  I felt as if some impending calamity was at hand.  I became thirsty, and getting up to get a drink of water, as I approached the cooler I looked toward the door, and there stood Lawrence peering through the glass panel of the car door.  As quick as a flash he drew aside from the door, but as his hand passed the glass panel seemingly to balance himself against the jerk of the car, I saw a long bright dirk held by him.  I then resolved that I would not be murdered by him.  I was satisfied that he had concealed himself on the train and that he had seen me come in the smoking car, and had taken his stand there on the platform with intent to stab me and hurl me from the train as I attempted to pass back into the coach I had left.  Though I was desperately excited, and in a nervous tremor, yet was I not alarmed.  I was armed with a fine Smith & Wesson double action, 38 caliber pistol, and besides that I opened my pocket knife, quite a formidable weapon itself, and kept it in my hand.  I went back to my seat without a word to any of the passengers but turned the back of my seat so that I faced the rear door, where Lawrence was standing hoping that Judge Atkinson or Mr. Dart would come into the smoking car, when I resolved I would acquaint them of the conspiracy.  I sat in that position for about fifteen minutes when the train came to a stop and I again saw Lawrence peer cautiously through the glass.  I sprang up and walked rapidly to the door, my knife in hand, and just then the conductor (Lovick DuPont) came through the door of the first-class car on his way to the smoker.  As he opened the door, I asked him “to bear witness to anything that happened.”  He seemed not to understand me, for, calling out “All aboard” the train moved on, he slammed the door and I had lost the opportunity of passing into the first-class car with an eye-witness to check Lawrence if he attacked me.  I sat down but was in such a state of frenzy, at the infamous intention of Lawrence, that in a few minutes I determined to pass him if he was still at the car door, even if I had to kill him.  I became an enraged being incapable of controlling the torrent of anger and revengeful thought (?) that completely pressed me.  “The villain, the would-be assassin, the dastard.  “I’ll confront him, and shoot him like a dog.”  At once I arose, and walking rapidly to the door, peered through the glass and panel [sic] and saw Lawrence sitting or rather crouched on the steps of the coach.  “Now is my time.”  I thought and opening the door with a jerk I stepped on the platform, closing the entrance after me.  “Lawrence,” I shouted “you are trying to kill me, are you?  I heard you tonight at the Screven plotting to assassinate me.”  My futher [sic] denunciation was stopped, he sprang up and made a lunge across the rail of the two coaches at me his aim was not true, or the swinging of the train made him miss my breast at which he seemed to strike.  His knife struck the iron rail of the platform and went whizzing into the air.  Now was my time.  I saw him put his hand to his hip pocket.  I knew what that meant and to know was to act.  My knife was still in my hand, and sharp and bright it was.
            Drawing my right hand and forearm well up over my left shoulder (a blow the frontiersman strikes when the death angel is near) I drove the blade into his breast.  He uttered not a word and I heard not a groan but backward over the platform his body plunged.  In an instant the horror of the situation appalled me.  I threw my knife out into the darkness and went into the first-class car and saw Judge Atkinson and Dart looking at me intently.  Had they seen my act?  I must have looked as I felt.  God grant I may never feel the like again, even in delirium.  I sat down by Dart and he asked me if I was ill.  I told him yes.  Upon his inquiring the cause of my illness and the character I could only answer that I believed I had taken an overdose of stimulant.  The next stop of the train they carried me into the baggage car and Conductor DuPont held the train up and sent for a cup of coffee at a wayside restaurant.  I drank it, and on being assisted back to the coach I was made as comfortable as possible and thank God fell asleep.  They aroused me at Jesup and I went into the Brunswick train but no more sleep.  My brain was in a tempest of fear for the consequences of the murder.  Would they find the body early?  Would I be suspected?  Would I be arrested and tried?  How could I defend myself?  I ought to have had him arrested in Savannah.  A thousand horrors presented themselves.  A vision of the barred cell of a prison, a dream of the gallows.  “O God have mercy upon me a sinner,” I cried.  While in this condition I remembered I had a flask of whiskey in my valise.  I went and drunk enough to have ordinarily made a [illegible] drunk.  It only calmed me.  I reached my home in the early morning and went at once to bed.  The strain of my nerves had apparently paralyzed my sense of trouble and I slept for seventeen hours.  When I awoke it was near midnight a light was burning low.  My memory was with me—all the details of my murder were with me but I now realized it was a terrible hallucination!  GEORGE B. MABRY
            HALLUCINATION FOURTH—The Race With Death—In the fall of 1882 I was attending the superior court in Coffee county.  Douglass, the county site is fourteen miles away from Pierson on the Brunswick and Western railroad the little town the judge and lawyers always stopped at en rout to Douglass which latter place we reached by buggy or horseback.  As usual I rode over on Sunday evening so as to be on hand to attend to my duties as solicitor general Monday morning.  I arrived about dark and as was my custom stopped with Joe Lichtenstein who kept one of the taverns.  After supper I returned to my room and after disrobing I took my morphine syringe and the bottle of a dissolved drug and prepared to administer to myself the injection that was necessary to keep me free of the agonies attending a deprivation of the accursed potion.  I had begun to feel the need of it long before supper but desisted till bedtime.  In consequence of which I was extremely shaky when I attempted to put the needle beneath the skin of my left arm.  I gave a start as the point [illegible] rather too deeply and that little spasm caused the syringe to fall from my hand to the floor and it was broken in a hundred pieces.  I had the bottle of the dissolved drug on the table by my side and as I reached in spasmodic haste to catch the falling syringe my right arm struck against the bottle of fluid and it too fell with a crash to the floor and was shattered.  My God ye who have never felt the pain the mortal agony the anguish the wild terrible longing for relief as felt by the opium and morphine cursed no language though the most forceful of the adjectives of the tongues of the earth be employed can even remotely catch the meaning of anguish and horror of such a situation.  I quickly resolved what I must do but in the resolution I saw the terror and pain in its accomplishment.  There was no physician nearer than Pierson fourteen miles away there was none of the drug or its substitutes in Douglass.  I must make the ride to Pierson.  I must start at once there is no time to be lost even now I feel the coldness of approaching dissolution.  I dressed as quickly as I could, went down, and calling the landlord told him I had to go over to a friend’s in the neighborhood and asked for a good saddle horse.  He agreed and gave me a fine animal which I at once mounted and after getting out of sight I plied the lash and into the darkness of swamp and forest I rode.  My brain was beginning to turn cold.  I felt the cold perspiration trickling down my spinal column intense pains were shooting through my nerve centers bright flashes as of livid streaks of lightning were playing before me.  I had just entered a belt of swamp bordering a creek when I heard the swish of a lash and a large black horse blacker than the night around me dashed up by me.  On his back was a phosphorescent figure grim and ghastly.  Plainly could I see by the pale light of his own body the deathly pallor and horrible smile on his face.  My solemn word for it my horse seemed to realize the terrible presence for he plunged forward and flew through the darkness of the swamp.  As I drew away from the specter I heard him yell “At 12 o’clock tonight I will away you.  You cannot [illegible].  Your doom is at hand.  I will break the doctor’s charm and you will be mine.  I am Death.”  I caught the full meaning of the words.  It was a race for life.  I leaned forward and urged my good horse on.  He seemed himself terror stricken for his pace was quickened and on through the darkness and gloom of the night he plunged.  I had completely lost my bearing and what if the animal I rode should miss the way?  The though intensified the horror of my condition my heart’s blood rushed through the arteries in streams as cold as ice.  Ever and anon I heard the sound of the black horse’s footfalls and the demoniac laugh of his ghostly rider.  Once in a paroxysm of pain and horrible thought I drew my pistol until then forgotten and pressed the cold muzzle to my temple but a flash of vivid light streaked the air in front of me, my horse plunged wildly and the weapon dropped in the darkness of the way.  “Oh, Christ! help me!  Oh Jesus! save me” I shrieked and I lost the sound of the black horse’s tread.  I heard a terrible yell—a crash as if a thunder bolt had fallen—and then I swear oblivion came over my senses.  I was aroused by the ringing of my horse’s hoofs on the iron rails of the railroad track.  I looked around and recognized the station house and lamp of the depot in Pierson.  I was in an agony of doubt of fear of mortal pain.  I was conscious that my horse had stopped—I listened far off beyond the limits of the village.  I heard the yell of the specter.  I will be there to claim you was borne to my straining ears.  I struck my horse and in a minute I was before the doctor’s door.  Tumbling from the saddle I staggered to the door and knocked with all my strength.  I heard his footsteps coming.  For God’s sake doctor hurry I’m dying!  He had been on a sick call and had not yet retired.  He opened the door and I fell before him.  “Morphine doctor!  Give me morphine quick or I die!”  Thoroughly aroused he lifted me and carried me into his dining room and placed me in an easy chair.  “Quick good doctor.  For Christ’s sake quick!  Death is near at hand!”  Hurriedly he emptied the drug in a glass dissolving it in water and equally as quick he drew in the accursed portion and piercing my arm the injection was completed.  Instantly the circulation had done its work and I felt calm—but Doctor don’t go to the door it is Death I won the race hear him knocking.  O Death! you've lost your sting.  I have won!  I have won!  I remember no more until I was aroused by the doctor bathing my face in water.  I opened my eyes and looked around.  The sun was just rising.  I had been placed on a coach and the good doctor had been with me since my arrival.  I remembered my accident my wild ride against Death and my victory.  He administered another injection and I felt well again.  My poor horse was jaded but after a light repast I rode away to Douglass arriving in time for court.  I borrowed the good doctor’s little syringe supplied myself with enough of the drug to last me and was among the last to leave the courthouse at the end of the week.  The horror of that awful night the terror of my condition and the narrowness of my escape from Death will be fresh in my memory as long as life shall last.  On my ride back to Douglass that morning I accompanied the mail carrier.  He called my attention to a pine tree evidently riven by lightning.  I didn’t notice that tree yesterday he said.  It didn’t storm last night.  It must have been a stray bolt out of some passing cloud lightning plays funny freaks some times.  I was silent.  I remembered the peal that I had heard last night.  My pistol was found by a negro in the grass by the road.  It was bought by William McClure a mechanic in the employ of the railroad.  I never laid claim to it.  I would not have owned it again for the wealth of the Indies.  GEORGE B. MABRY
            HALLUCINATION FIFTH—Asbell’s Knife Leaves a Scar—I had been ill.  At times I was delirious but at not time did I forget or lose sight of the little morphine syringe and bottle of dissolved drug I had concealed beneath the mattress of my bed.  The noise around my hotel and my own loud groans and cries at times caused them to send me to the hospital in Brunswick.  Dr. H.M. Branham was the physician who attended me.  After my removal I rested easier.  My nerves were in a calmer state and I had freer access to my syringe and drug as I had concealed it successfully in my removal and after my retirement in the hospital.  I noticed the first night I spent there that I was harassed by dreams of a horrible nature.  When I would wake however my brain would immediately grasp the situation and I would know at once that I had only been disturbed by one of that class of dreams known as “nightmares.”  The evening of the third day I spent in my new quarters I took an unusually large injection of the drug and besides drank about two ounces of whiskey to stay the nausea that sometimes followed the use of my syringe.  I fell asleep about 9 o’clock and was aroused about the middle of the night (judging from the reckoning of two other inmates of the same ward I was in) by the voices of George Asbell—now on the police force of Brunswick—and his brother Dudley.  I heard George say “He is on the cot in the corner you wait here by the window and I’ll go in by the side door.  If he should wake and try to get away or fight you fire through the blinds.  I will go in easy though and try and kill him by one blow of my knife.”  In an instant I was alert and planning escape.  I had no weapon and felt that I was completely in their power unless I could elude them.  The other patients in the ward I knew could not aid me.  One was a sufferer with inflammatory rheumatism and the other a simple minded fellow I knew would fall on his knees and ask for money instead of giving me aid against the men who sought my life.  Quickly I resolved on my line of action.  There was a window in another ward adjoining the one I was in and I determined to wait until I heard Asbell in the other room through which he must pass before reaching me and then I would spring through and attempt to reach the police barracks.  My brain was clear.  I realized fully that the chances were desperate and that my only safety was in flight.  I got out of bed and commenced to dress but before I had a single piece of my clothing on I heard Asbell stumble on a chair at the door of my ward and hear him mutter a curse and start toward me.  I waited no longer, but sprang through the door of the next room rushed to the window hastily threw it up and out in the dark and cold drizzling rain I leaped.  It was in the month of January.  A cold spell with rain, was upon the city, but I felt I not.  Clad only in my undergarments bareheaded and shoeless, I climbed to the top of the hospital fence, and was in the act of springing to the ground on the outside when I heard Asbell say “I’ll kill you tonight.  You let off those fellows who I prosecuted for trying to mob me and now d—n you I am going to get even with you.”  I sprang to the ground and started in a run through the woods that borders the hospital.  I heard the dull thud as he also dropped to the ground on the outside of the fence and the race began.  I became confused as to my direction and lost my reckoning.  Through brush and over logs now dodging behind a tree now squatting in some hollow—but it seemed of no use—Asbell was surely following.  He seemed to trail me with the persistence of the bloodhound.  I was becoming weak.  My heart sounded with beats like a drum.  My breath was like the hissing of steam.  It fairly scalded my lips as it was poured forth by my straining lungs.  I felt that I was in a desperate position.  Asbell was a man of fully 180 pounds.  I was scarcely 120.  I calculated the chances of a hand to hand encounter I unarmed—he with a murderous knife, and probably pistol.  Folly I would but invite death to grapple with him.  Once only in the chase did I hop for aid.  I was crouching behind a log listening hoping praying that the man had given up his intended assassination.  As I strained every nerve of my being to aid in catching sound I heard way off through the woods a voice say “We must find him quickly or twill all be over with him.  That voice was evidently alluding to me.  The conspiracy of the Asbell’s must have been discovered and there were men now out chasing him and hunting me.  I arose and started forward in the direction from whence the voice came.  I would have called for help but feared I would reveal my position to the man who was thirsting for my blood and who I knew was searching for me and was following me with unerring footsteps.  I had moved forward only a few steps when to my sorrow I saw Asbell about a hundred feet from me immediately in the direction I would go.  He saw me at the same time and called to me to stop for I immediately turned and commenced in a wild run—I know not where for I was lost.  I was confused localities were blanks distances were forgotten.  But on and on I struggled now entangled in the vines and brush of the forest then tripping over logs and falling heavily now and again from sheer exhaustion.  My underclothes were in tatters my limbs were torn and bleeding and my feet were bruised and lacerated.  Yet the thought of the terrible death I would suffer if overtaken by my pursurer [sic] urged me on.  Once I thought me [sic] of s sermon I had heard and that had impressed me it was on the efficacy of prayer.  In the tension of my ordeal to think was to act.  I stopped and listened.  I heard no sound save the nightbirds cry and the moaning of the trees as the winter wind touched their branches.  I felt safe for at least a few minutes.  Down on my knees and I sent up to heaven a prayer.  But again I heard the rapidly approaching footsteps of Asbell.  My God!  Could I not elude him?  Off again I struggled but my strength was gone and I fell heavily to the ground.
            God have mercy now and receive my soul was the wild cry I uttered.  I looked up and Asbell was standing over me.  His hair was dishevelled [sic] his eyes gleamed like coals from hell his face was horribly distorted his clothing was torn and hung in rags about him and there!—My God! in his upraised hand gleamed a murderous knife.  One word only he spoke—Die!—and his hand and the blade descended toward my breast.  But a sudden frenzy of desperation possessed me.  I sprang up—I seemed to be endowed with the strength of the tiger.  I leaned aside as I rose and the knife which had been aimed at my breast, missed its mark.  The force of the stroke unbalanced him and he fell forward at my feet.  I turned to flee.  Again he struck, wildly blindly, and I felt a twinge and stinging pain in my right knee.  The point of his knife had struck me my strength was revived.  I sprang away again and tore through the woods calling for help.  Suddenly the woods began to be more open.  I saw the bright light and turning toward it saw the chimney and black smoke from the cotton factory of Kennon & Co.  I ran to the boiler room door and there met McCardle the night watchman who was firing the furnaces for the day’s work the red streaks of dawn were then in the eastern sky.  He caught me in his arms as I staggered before him.  I heard him say, “What in the name of God is the matter, colonel” and then I knew no more until I regained consciousness in my cot at the hospital.  McCardle had carried me into the boiler room wrapped me in quilts and telephoned to police headquarters from whence an officer (Jerry Wilcher) was sent in a carriage to take me back to the hospital.  The attending physician placed a watch over me the next night but I was not troubled again.  How the wound in my knee was really made I do not really know, but to me if my reason and sense of truth did not control me the vividness of that wild chase and attempted assassination would impel me to say—aye, even to swear—that the livid scar was made by Asbell’s knife!  GEORGE B. MABRY
            HALLUCINATION SIXTH—A Study for Metaphysicians—When Dr. O.W. Tucker was in charge of the city hospital in Brunswick I was an inmate during the months of June and July.  My illness was extreme nervous prostration, the direct result of the morphine habit.  My long confinement left me in an extremely weak condition, physically in consequence of which I was detained for a week or more after my sickness, gathering strength.  About a week before my departure a Norwegian who could not speak a word of English neither could I speak or understand Norwegian was brought in.  He was suffering from severe inflammation of the bowels and was in a high fever.  Dr. Tucker was exceedingly kind to the poor fellow and often left his directions and medicines with me to administer.  The sufferer seemed to appreciate the attention of the doctor and my little assistance and often took my hand and muttered in an unknown tongue evidently trying to make me understand something I know not what.  The night before he died I began to feel very badly.  I took much more than my customary supply of morphine, and drank five or six ounces of whiskey to allay the nausea that frequently followed excessive injections of the drug.  Some time toward midnight I was conscious of some one whispering to the sick man.  As well as I could hear and judge from my position it was the whisper of a woman.  At times she would apparently forget herself and her words were distinctly audible to me.  It occurred to me rather peculiar that her whispered language was in English for the reason that the sick man could not speak or understand that language.  After she had been thus whispering for about ten minutes I heard her say “Now be sure and tell him he will understand.”  By this time my curiosity mastered me and I turned on my cot and looked over to the other end of the ward where the sick man lay and by the dim light of the lamp I distinctly saw the form of a tall woman as she passed into the next room but I hear no footfalls.  The Norwegian had not answered the whispers but had remained in perfect quite.  I arose and went over to his cotside.  He was evidently in a deep sleep and I therefore turned down the lamp and, not a little worried and puzzled to know who the woman was, I lay down and tried to compose myself.  But I continued to try to think who the woman was, and how she expected a Norwegian, who did not know English, to comprehend her in that language.  At last however, the drug gave its after effect of somnolence, and I slept.  I was awake and sitting up when the doctor came in the morning.  I had taken my usual morning injection of the drug and was experiencing the delightful feeling of absolute rest, that is only felt by the confirmed captive after a period of troublous nervousness.  He spoke cordially with me and passed on to the Norwegian’s cot.  As soon as he reached his bedside the sick man raised himself on his elbows and his face took on a wild excited expression and he began to mutter something I could not understand.  His excitement was contagious with me.  Seeing his staring eyes and distorted face, and realizing that a crisis was at hand, I was myself thrown into a paroxyism [sic] of nervous trepidation.  I rose and walked over to the cot and stood by the doctor.  As soon as I got to his bedside the sick man fell back on his pillow and extended his hand to me and drew me to a sitting posture.  Then he began in hurried quick language to tell me “that his trunk was at the house of a woman named Jennie Green,” and that there was $35 in it besides his clothes.  He said that “he wanted the money sent to his sister in New York,” and putting his hand under his pillow, drew forth two letters and handed them to me.  They were from his sister.  He ceased speaking and closed his eyes.  The doctor said “he was delirious,” and noticing my own condition, took me by the arm and led me to my cot telling me to compose myself and try to take a nap.  I lay down and then said “Doctor, you had better take these letters and see what they are about, I suppose, though, they are from his sister he told me he wanted his money sent to.”  “What sister?  What money?” asked the doctor.  “Why, didn’t you hear him telling me of his trunk at Jennie Green’s and of the $35 that is in it?”  “Try and go to sleep,” spoke Dr. Tucker, “you are nervous.  I heard the poor fellow rattling off something in Norwegian or some other foreign language but of course did not understand him.”  I was impressed by his coolness, and I wondered if I had been the victim of another hallucination.  After the doctor left I used my syringe, and was soon asleep.  The next night the Norwegian died.  I left the hospital the day following.  A few days after Dr. Tucker stopped me on the street and said “Mabry, do you remember what you told me about that poor fellow having a trunk and $35 at Jennie Green’s?”  “Yes,” I replied.  “Well it’s strange,” said the doctor “but Jennie Green sent the trunk to the hospital yesterday.  We opened it, and sure enough in the top flap we found the money and it had a lot of good clothes also.  We sent all to his sister’s address given in the letters you handed me after telegraphing her.”  There was a negro nurse—Isaac—who also heard and saw I have been told there are recorded instances like the one in which I heard and understood the Norwegian language.  Dr. Tucker published the incident in a medical journal.  GEORGE B. MABRY.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 6 October 1898; pg. 8 col. 3

ONE HUNDRED LIVES LOST. That is the Estimated Loss of life in Sunday's Storm.

            Brunswick, Ga., October 5--(Special)--Martin Anderson, master of the steamer Hessie, from Darien, reports eighty bodies found on Butler's Island.  These, with twenty previously reported at Campbell Island, runs to a total of one hundred.  There will probably be other returns when the vessels begin to get into the surrounding rice fields and island waterways.  The property damaged at Brunswick, Darien and surrounding country will probably go to one million.  At Jekyl island the clubhouse and cottage damage will go thirty thousand.  Jekyl's dock is on Joseph Pulitzer's cottage porch.  The above and other news now coming in simply confirms.

BRIDGES WASHED AWAY

            Waycross, Ga. October 5--(Special)--Reports continue to come in from the storm stricken districts of this section.  The latest information is that the bridges across the creeks were washed away and the woods are so boggy that the sawmill and turpentine wagons have been unable to haul the products to the manufacturing plants.  A number of bridges in Waycross and vicinity were washed away.  The estimated damage to property in Waycross will not exceed $5,000.  The roads are impassable in the country and it will be impossible to get election returns promptly from several precincts of the railroad.

The Atlanta Constitution; Saturday 8 October 1898; pg. 3 col. 4

REJOICING AT BRUNSWICK; Over the Election and the Subsidence of the Waters

            Brunswick, Ga. October 7.--(Special)--The sanitary department has had over 200 men at work cleaning up for several days and the merchants are beginning to get their stocks dried out.  Bonfires of rubbish and brush are ablaze on many streets, while barrels of carbolic acid have been sprinkled in every wet street where sickness was liable to develop.  This prompt action of the sanitary department has made it practically impossible for bad health results to follow the flood.  Brunswickians, as a whole, are peculiarly happy-hearted, meeting disasters with a steady nerve and going to work cheerfully afterwards to clean up and enjoy life.
            As an illustration, there is tonight a torchlight procession on hand, with which the good government peo9ple intend to celebrate their political victory of Wednesday last.  As this is being written the people are crowding Newcastle street to participate in and view the procession.  Fireworks are going off and where three days ago a flood of water five feet deep destroyed the citizens' property, many of them are now gathering as if to witness a carnival street ball.  All is life, light and merriment, without a trace of gloom from either the defeated or winning side.  It is the ability to forget disaster and nerve and pluck necessary to work hard which keeps Brunswick growing, and she will yet come to the front with both feet on top of the ground and everybody prosperous.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 24 August 1899; pg. 3 cols. 1-2

TROOPS WERE SENT TO DARIEN—Negro Mob Objects to Removal of Prisoner—IS CHARGED WITH ASSAULT—From Darien to the Jail at Savannah—SHERIFF TELEGRAPHED THE GOVERNOR—Asked for Troops, Which Were Sent on Special Train from Savannah.  Negro Prisoner Brought to Chatham Jail—Quiet at Darien.

            Darien, Ga., August 23—(Special)—On Monday Henry Delegal, colored, charged with assault upon a white woman in the country, gave himself up.  The sheriff had him in the McIntosh jail, and the colored people gathered in great crowds, fearing there would be an attempt to lynch Delegal.  The authorities attempted to remove Delegal to Savannah, and were met by an armed mob of negroes, who said they did not want him to be sent and that he be left here in our jail.  The authorities determined to place him in Chatham jail, and asked the governor to send troops to take him to Savannah.

TROOPS LEAVE SAVANNAH

            Savannah, Ga., August 23—(Special)—The first news of the trouble at Darien here came through a telegram from Governor Candler to the commanding officer of the First Georgia volunteer regiment, directing him to take 200 men to Darien at once by special train.  Captain P.F. Gleason, of the Irish Jasper Greens, being the senior commanding officer in the city, at once asked Mayor Myers to have the riot call rung, and the eleven strokes from the big fire alarm bell made the volunteers hurry to their armories.
            The Savannah Volunteer Guards also assembled, but their services were not needed.  Captain Gleason got his 200 men from the five companies of the First regiment and completed the requisite number of twenty-five men from the Georgia Hussars, ordered out by Major Berne Gordon, senior commanding officer of the First Cavalry regiment here.
            A special train on the Florida Central and Peninsular railroad was secured in short order, and the troops left the city in command of Captain Gleason at 5:30 o’clock.  At 6:30 o’clock they reached Darien junction, and within half an hour after that were in Darien.
            The Savannah troops had no trouble in taking Delegal from the jail.  It was supposed that the troops had come there simply to protect the prisoner.  Judge Paul E. Seabrook had made a speech to the assembled mob, and there was no attempt at any outbreak.  The troops took the prisoner to their special train, and at 8 o’clock left Darien to return to Savannah.
            THE TROUBLE IN DARIEN—On Monday Henry Delegal, learning that he was wanted on the charge of rape, made by his alleged victim, gave himself up to Sheriff Black, of McIntosh county.  That evening a mob of negroes gathered around the jail.  They thought he was to be lynched, and they were there to defend him.  Yesterday an effort was made to bring him to Savannah, but the threats of the negro mob prevented it.  This morning there was to be another attempt on the part of the authorities to bring him here for safe keeping, of which the negroes were apprised.  They rang the colored Baptist church bell as a warning signal, and the negro mob again assembled, though there was no violence.  This led to the action on the part of Mayor Kenan and prominent citizens of Darien requesting the governor to order troops there at once.
            As soon as the bell rang, four or five hundred negroes assembled, many of them under arms, and there was considerable excitement all during the day.  The mob made no attack on the jail, but simply announced its intention of preventing the negro being taken away or being lynched.
            Mayor Kenan telegraphed the governor that the town was in charge of an armed mob of negroes, and his request for troops was promptly responded to.
            A telephone message from Darien tonight stated that there had been nor disorder there at all, though it was feared on account of the threats of the mob.  Yesterday a party of Darien citizens called on Judge Seabrook here and requested him to call a special term of court to try Delegal, fearing that a lynching would take place unless this was done.  In the event of a lynching, a race riot was predicted.  Judge Seabrook was willing to do anything possible to prevent a disturbance, but things began to look more ominous, and precautionary measures had to be taken.
            According to the story, the alleged offense was committed nine months ago, and it only became known when the girl in question gave birth to a mulatto child a few days ago.  Then it was she had to explain, and she named Delegal as her assailant, stating that he had used force in accomplishing his purpose.  She said she had not told it before because Delegal had threatened to burn her father’s house and to kill her father and herself in the even she informed upon him.
            The special train from Darien arrived tonight at 10:30 o’clock, western time, and Delegal was taken at once to Chatham county jail, where he will be safely kept.  Captain Gleason left seventy-five men in Darien in command of Captain Grayson, to preserve order.
            ALL QUIET AT DARIEN—The latest report from Darien said the negro mob had practically dispersed, and no further trouble was anticipated.
            The name of the woman is Mrs. Matilda Ann Hope, a young woman aged twenty-two years.  Her husband left her some time ago.  The alleged offense was committed in McIntosh county, about twelve miles west of Darien.

GOVERNOR ORDERS TROOPS—Chief Executive of Georgia Promptly Puts an End to the Riot at Darien.

            Governor Candler was notified by telegram at noon yesterday of the imminence of a riot at Darien, Ga., and was urged to hurry troops to the McIntosh county town without delay.  The dispatch received at the executive office stated that as the result of the arrest of Henry Delegal, a negro charged with assault, a mob of 400 negroes from the surrounding counties had assembled at Darien and held the town at their mercy.
            Governor Candler acted with his usual energy and discretion and in five minutes after the receipt of the telegram from Darien, a dispatch from him was on the way to Savannah to the commander of the First Georgia regiment ordering him to Darien with 200 men.  The commander of the regiment was instructed not to lose a moment if necessary to get a special train for his troops.
            The telegram from Darien called on the governor for 500 men, but with his recent experiences with mobs before him, Governor Candler was satisfied in his own mind that a body of 200 troops, well officered, could quell any negro riot that might arise.
            Following is the telegram received by Governor Candler from prominent officials of Darien and McIntosh county:

Henry Delegal, colored, charged with rape of a white woman now confined in McIntosh county jail.  Attempt was made by officer to remove him this morning to Savannah, but was checked by armed mob of 400 negroes; own now in hands of mob; desire to remove him to Chatham county tonight for safekeeping; forces at command inadequate; please order here immediately 500 troops.  Send arms and ammunition for local troops; presence of troops here tonight imperative.  W.C. CLARK, Chairman County Commission.  T.B. BLOUNT, Sheriff.  S. KENAN, Mayor.  R.H. KNOX, Mayor Pro Tem.

            In addition to the telegram to Governor Candler a dispatch was received by Adjutant General Byrd from Captain B.F. Sinclair, of Troop F, First Georgia cavalry, stationed at Darien, asking for arms and ammunition at once.
            Scarcely half an hour after filing his telegram to the commander of the First Georgia regiment ordering him to Darien, Governor Candler received a dispatch in reply from Captain Gleason, of company B, as follows:
Obedient to your telegram ordering 200 men of the First Georgia to Darien, I leave in thirty minutes with that number under arms and will report promptly to sheriff.  CAPTAIN GLEASON, Company B, First Georgia.
            Last night Governor Candler was notified of the safe return of Captain Gleason to Savannah with his prisoner.
            The prompt manner in which the Savannah troops responded to the call of Governor Candler is taken as one of the signs of the thorough reorganization of the state militia which Governor Candler determined to bring about with the aid of his active adjutant general immediately upon his inauguration.

Davenport Daily Leader (Davenport, Iowa); Sunday 27 August 1899; pg. 1 col. 2

DELEGAL SURRENDERS

            Darien, Ga., Aug. 26—The roundup of the riotous negroes in McIntosh county by the military today resulted in the surrender of Henry Delegal, the murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend at the location of Delegal’s brother and the woman directly implicated in the killing.  Delegal’s surrender was made to Lieut. Wood in charge of a detachment of soldiers stationed fifteen miles in the country to back up the sheriff’s posse, who were scouring the swamps.  Delegal stated he surrendered for protection as his capture was only a matter of a few hours.  The arrest of Delegal and the arrival of reinforcements for the military seems to have broken the backbone of defiance by the negroes.  There are still several ring leaders of the blacks wanted by the officers of the law.  Unless they come in and surrender or are brought in by friends and turned over to the authorities the troops will go after them tomorrow.

The Atlanta Constitution; Monday 28 August 1899; pg. 1 cols. 1-3

A BUSY NIGHT FOR MILITIA AT DARIEN—Quiet Day Followed by Hours of Active Work in the Dark—NEGROES SEEMED SUBDUED—Judge Seabrook Calls a Special Term of the Superior Court—SESSION WILL OPEN WEDNESDAY—Citizens Employ Prominent Attorney To Take Part in the Prosecution of the Men To Be Indicted and Arraigned.

By C.W. Deming.

            Darien, Ga., August 27—(Special)—At 10 o’clock tonight Captain Sinclair has a detachment of the McIntosh dragoons marching toward the Lower Bluff mill on the hill of Dodge Lumber Company.  The dispatching of these men followed reports from dragoons on the outposts’ country districts which told of a big fire reported in that direction.
            Considerable apprehension is felt, and a sweep of the country around discloses fire reflections between Darien and Brunswick.
            The negroes are thick around Hilton and Dodge’s Hill, but the fire did not last long enough to warrant apprehension that the mills have had the torch applied to them.  The dragoons’ posse is heavily armed and well equipped for trouble.
            Sounds of filing in the jail have just been reported to the dragoons’ armory, and Captain Sinclair has acted promptly.  The town marshal was hurriedly sent for and returned.  With his soldiers he attempted to open the door, but the sheriff had barricaded in on the inside.  The marshal had no key to the other doors, and the sheriff is three miles away at the ridge.  Captain Sinclair has thrown a double guard around the jail, and at the first efforts to escape the prisoners will be fired upon.  John Delegal, the murderer of Deputy Sheriff Townsend, is one of these prisoners, and it is thought the filing is being done by him.
            LIBERTY TROOP GOES HOME—The Liberty Independent troop at Crescent City today were given permission to return home.
            Scouting parties of dragoons coming in from the country tonight report to Captain Sinclair that thirteen heavily armed negroes are in the swamp near the river road.  These negroes hide in the swamp during the day, and come out at night.  The dragoons asked and were given permission to return to the scene with an arrangement by which a detachment of dragoons will go forward at daybreak to re-enforce them should they not be heard from by then.
            At midnight shots near the depot called out all the troops in the dragoons’ armory, and the entire First regiment from their camps.  Captain Sinclair, at the head of the dragoons, hurried to the depot and found the sentinels had fired on suspicious parties.
            The dragoons and sentinels where thrown out as searchers, but could not capture the parties.  Every company in the First regiment was formed and prepared for action.  Dragoons detachment from Lower Bluff mills returned at midnight and reported Hilton Dodge mills safe.
            TROOPS ARE SENT HOME—This morning Colonel Lawton returned 86 men and three officers to Savannah, and now has remaining 175 men and officers, all told, from the First Georgia regiment and the McIntosh Light Dragoons.  Colonel Lawton states he cannot say how long all of these troops will be kept on the scene, but says a large portion of them will be held in camp here until the special term of McIntosh superior court is over.  This special term has been called by Judge Seabrook, of the Atlantic circuit, and will open Wednesday next to try the thirty-five negro rioters now in jail at Savannah and Henry Delegal, the negro about whom the trouble here originated, and John Delegal, his son, who is in jail here now for the murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend, together with such others as may be arrested in the meantime for riotous conduct.
            A committee of prominent citizens acting on behalf of the whites of this section, has formed and engaged special counsel to assist Livingston Kenan in prosecuting the negroes.  This counsel is Walter C. Hartridge, of Savannah, and W.G. Charlton, of Savannah, who is well known as a prosecuting attorney employed by the government in the case of Captain Oberlin M. Carter.  These attorneys are due to arrive tonight and will at once be taken in charge by the citizens’ committee and furnished evidence on which to base the prosecution.
            MONOTONOUS FOR SOLDIERS—In military circles the day has been monotonous, barring the departure of Captain Grayson and his men for Savannah and the arrival of tents for Colonel Lawton’s troops.  Among the citizens of Darien quiet has been partially restored, but the people in outlying districts are very apprehensive and occasional reports of armed bodies of negroes being seen in the swamps keeps Darienites on the alert.  Today reports of a negro mob in King’s swamp and continual gun firing in this section resulted in scouts being sent out and their reports on the situation is expected tonight.
            It appears that at least until Wednesday the situation will not be changed.  All the negroes appear to be thoroughly overawed by the determined action of citizens and the military.  They now realize that the whites will not tolerate their lawlessness and that the whites remain masters of the situation.  They have viewed the arrival of many rifles and much ammunition and noted the armed men scattered throughout the country until they have come to understand that all negroes must be peaceful.  In Darien and through the country where they military have passed the soldiers have had a wonderful quieting effect.  What the situation will develop on Wednesday when the negro rioters arrive is a matter of conjecture, but indications do not point to an outbreak.
            MILITARY WILL REMAIN FOR DAYS—Colonel Lawton says tonight that he is here to preserve order and enough military will remain in Darien during the special term of court to keep everything quiet, and that he considers the county practically quiet tonight.  Colonel Jacob E. Dart, the well-known Georgia politician, is here with a party of Brunswickians, consisting of Robert Pyles, Mason Scarlett, J.A. Clark, of Jekyl Island; William Davenport, Clarence Leavy, Charles Morgan, Clinton Brown.  They came on a special boat in response to calls for re-enforcements Friday night and have been doing splendid service as special deputy sheriffs.  Inspector General Obear, of the state militia, left for Atlanta tonight, after two days here with the troops.
            The credit for the part taken by the military in the search for and surrender of Delegal was given to Lieutenant Leonard Wood.  No such named officer has been here.  The military that accompanied the sheriff’s posse was commanded by Lieutenant Edward A. Leonard, of Savannah.  Colonel Lawton and others request a correction of the error in names, and in making the request Colonel Lawton said:
            “I regret that Lieutenant Leonard’s name was not used.  He is a splendid officer and deserves fully the credit for the military part in yesterday’s affairs.  Lieutenant Leonard acted fearlessly and with a great deal of discretion and diplomacy in securing Delegal, and I think he deserves all the praise that can be given him.”
            Robert R. Hopkins, whose brother was wounded by Delegal at the time he killed Townsend, says of Lieutenant Leonard:
            “He is a brave officer, and did his duty well as one of the sheriff’s posse.  I know of Leonard’s worth and work and wish you would give him full measure of praise.”
            I can also testify to the bravery, tact and good judgment of Lieutenant Leonard, having been a witness to his work in the Delegal swaps at the time of the murderer’s capture.

The Atlanta Constitution; Wednesday 30 August 1899; pg. 3 col. 3

DELEGAL NOW QUITE HUNGRY—McIntosh Negro Says the Wallaces Are Persecuting Him.

            Savannah, Ga., August 29—(Special)—Henry Delegal, the negro from McIntosh county, who is in jail here, waiting to be carried back to Darien to be tried for a criminal assault, talked quite freely today about the recent trouble at his home in which is son killed Joseph Townsend and shot another white man.  Henry knows nothing about the trouble except what has been told him, but he feels sure something must have been done or said to his son to make him take the life of the deputy sheriff.
            The negro gave a new version of the trouble between himself and Troup Wallace, the father of the woman who alleges that he committed a criminal assault upon her.  He says there is malice behind the whole affair.  A nephew of Wallace tried to sell a stolen ox to Delegal several years ago, he says, and Delegal reported the matter to the authorities.  The nephew was sent to the penitentiary for six months, he says, and the Wallace family has been after him.  They tried to get him arrested once on a charge of cutting timber on another man’s land and failed.
            Delegal says he is a pretty hungry man now, despite the fact that he is given jail rations.  He does not complain of the fare except that he gets bakers’ bread to eat, and he has not cultivated a taste for it.

The Atlanta Constitution; Saturday 2 September 1899; pg. 3 cols. 1-2

FIVE ARE CONVICTED OF RIOTING; THE TRIAL AT DARIEN YESTERDAY—First Block of Five Negroes Found Guilt but Sentence Not Passed—FIVE MORE BEFORE A JURY—Twenty-Seven Have Been Indicted and the Court Will Be Very Busy—WILL TAKE A WEEK TO TRY CASES—After These Trials Have Been Concluded, the Cases of the Murderers of Deputy Sheriff Townsend Will Be Taken Up.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 1—(Special)—The first block of five rioters were found guilty today.  The jury was out only fifteen minutes.  The rioters were three men and two women who were most prominent in the leading affair against the sheriff on Wednesday last.
            The opening speech for the defense was made by Attorney Colding, followed by Attorneys Hartridge and Charlton, for the prosecution.  The closing argument was made by Judge Twiggs, for the defense, in a speech over one hour long.  His main line of argument was that the negro rioters were not rioters at all, but out of curiosity assembled when the church bell began to ring.
            The general sentiment in McIntosh county is that the verdict was a just one.
            Court took recess for one hour and reconvened for tonight’s session.  There are thirty-seven indictments out, but only about twenty-six arrests have been made so far.
            It took all day to try the first block of five and at that rate it will be a week before these trials are concluded.  In the meantime there are the other arrests to be made.
            Following these trials comes that of the three Delegals for the murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend.  No sentences will be passed until all riot cases are disposed of.
            The rioters convicted today are Ben Dunham, James Wylly, Marshall Dorsey, Louisa Underwood and Maria Curry.  Those on trial tonight are Jonas Green, a bad negro, Lawrence Baker, Josephine Bird, a mean negress, Abram Green and Moses Miller.

REVIEW OF THE DARIEN ROW—Showing How Delegal Ruled the Negroes of McIntosh County.

            Darien, Ga., September 1—(Special)—There have been many race riots reported in this country and many peculiar features connected with them, but the Darien affair can be safely said to stand without a parallel in the history of all the troubles.  Between time spent in riding about from one part of McIntosh county to another with military and sheriff’s posses, and tracing down various rumors of more or less exciting nature, some of which were veritable “hair curlers.”  I have learned a great deal of what can happen to alarm people in a county where negroes outnumber whites about four to one, and woods are so thick a man can hardly force a horse through.  To get to the bottom of this trouble one has to review a situation of many years’ existence.  In years gone by negroes ruled the county vote and negro office holders were the rule and not the exception.  There are two here now, the postmaster and deputy collector of customs, but President McKinley put these two where they are and they cut no figure in the present situation except the influence their holding such responsible and prominent offices has upon the minds of the average negro.  But to go back to the beginning is to tell of the days of the carpet baggers and the means that intelligent whites had to employ to get rid of them as office holders.  To accomplish this end the work of negro leaders had to be secured.
            HENRY DELEGAL’S INFLUENCE—One of the negroes who became identified with the whites in this effort was Henry Delegal, now in jail charged with raping a white woman and about whom the present trouble originated.  Delegal worked with the whites for years and then became a rank republican negro leader.  He forsook the even peaceful tenor of white democratic ways, and moving into a dense swamp settlement, became ruler of the inhabitants.  The settlement became known finally as the Delegal Settlement, so powerful was the negro’s domination.  Around this settlement many poor white people who had their little property and could not afford to give it up and leave, but who viewed year by year the domineering manner of Henry Delegal and his black followers.  To the blacks Delegal was a hero, a king, and they worshiped him as a god, while to the whites around he was a terror and a man to be always feared.  At the infectious increase of negro lust for white women spread over Georgia it reached the Delegal settlement and it was during that time that Delegal began to sleep with the white woman who recently gave birth to his black child.  She was a woman of bad character, but despite that the whites of McIntosh county, in view of their knowledge of Delegal domination, believed her story that Delegal gratified his lust under threats of death to herself and entire family if she told of his crimes.  Not until the black child came did the whites know that Delegal had gone so far with his power and when the physician attending the woman reported the facts, the blood of the whites began to boil.  A citizens’ meeting was called and conducted by fair-minded men.  The consensus of opinion was that no negro could sleep with a white woman in McIntosh county and go unpunished.  With this determination a warrant was sworn out for Delegal’s arrest and he was jailed.  There was some talk of whites from other counties harming him and the sheriff decided to remove his prisoner to Savannah for safe keeping.  Unexpectedly and to the great astonishment of the whites the negroes arose in arms and declared that Delegal should not be removed from jail here.  They constituted themselves protectors of Delegal from a mob which only existed in their excited imagination and from every side came to his rescue from a supposed danger which never existed.  Every lumber boom was deserted, laborers ran from their work at the mills or quit their work of loading vessels, while from the country districts they flocked in overwhelming numbers.  The negro church bells rang to call them in, and then for the first time the peaceful white citizens of this county learned that Delegal’s friends had been arming and preparing themselves for just such an event for the past ten days.  The whites, totally unprepared for such an occurrence, and outnumbered five to one by armed negroes, could not assist the sheriff and he returned Delegal to his cell in the face of five hundred or more desperate blacks, who held the streets in front of the jail.  Immediately the whites began to order arms and call for troops and re-enforcements, which came in numbers.  With their arrival came the exciting events in which the whites were victorious and Delegal was removed to the Savannah jail.  Quiet was partially restored and the remaining troops grew tired under the monotonous strain of unexciting guard duty, when like a thunderclap came the report Friday morning of the killing of Deputy Sheriff Townsend and the wounding of Deputy Hopkins while they were attempting to arrest Delegal’s sons for riot and jail them with a few others that had been implicated in the affair with the sheriff.  Like a seething cauldron the rage of the whites then exerted itself and determination to bring the murderers to justice and subdue the negro population was evident on every side.
            HAD CONFIDENCE IN SOLDIERS—The situation grew critical and Governor Candler was called upon for more troops.  His response with two hundred men and the later events which followed are fresh in the public mind, as they appeared in these dispatches and it is not necessary to review them here.  But there is connected with these events some circumstances which call for more than passing mention, and they present a new phase to the latter days.  IT is the relation of the military to the negroes that is strikingly illustrated.  To the military only have these rioters surrendered, and to the man in uniform they have given their unreserved confidence.  When Lieutenant Leonard was negotiating with the Delegal’s mother in the swamps of McIntosh he wore the coat of the “U.S.V.” which had been part of his uniform while a captain in the late Spanish-American war.  This “U.S.V.” was taken by the negroes to mean that Lieutenant Leonard was a United States soldier, and soon, throughout all that negro settlement the news spread that the president had sent down United States troops to protect the negroes.  Lieutenant Leonard then became the negroes’ idol and the Delegal who fired the fatal shot surrendered to him willingly.  How strongly this idea of United States troops prevailed is best told in the fact that the first circular issued by the negro preachers and intelligent leaders, referred to the United States troops having protected Delegal from being lynched and calling upon all rioters to come from their hiding places and give themselves up and rest under the protection of these soldiers.  The whites of McIntosh objected to the wording of these circulars and it was called in and another one issued which contained no use of the word “lynching.”
            Following the issuing of this circular negro leaders visited the swamp settlements and called their people in.  Many surrenders followed and the most important one was the surrender of Ed Delegal on Tuesday last to Lieutenant Leonard.  Delegal regarded Lieutenant Leonard as his brother’s savior and to him only would he give up.  Sixteen miles from the soldiers’ camp, and in a lonely wood Lieutenant Leonard was piloted to Delegal and there received his arms.  A posse of military were in the background two miles away, but the negro did not know it.  Delegal came from the swamp and his friends with him.  Lieutenant Leonard then held a semi-reception with the blacks, who gazed at his should straps and the “U.S.V.” in wonder and admiration.  The opportunity was one not to be missed and Lieutenant Leonard made the negroes a speech, advising them to go in town and give themselves up for trial, promising them full protection by the military.  That his advice was well taken was evident from the many subsequent surrenders and complete abandonment of the swamps by the blacks.  The court trials and scenes attendant followed and now one of the most unusual occurrences of a century is coming to a close in the little city of Darien, situated on the coast of Georgia.

The Stevens Point Journal (Stevens Point, Wisconsin); Saturday 2 September 1899; pg. 2 col. 5

MILITARY IN CONTROL—Outbreak of Riotous Negroes in Georgia Is Likely Soon to Be at an End.

            Darien, Ga., Aug. 28—The round-up of riotous negroes in McIntosh county by the military resulted in the surrender of Henry Delegal, the murderer of Deputy Sheriff Townsend, and the location for future arrest of Delegal’s brother and the woman directly implicated in the killing.
            The arrest of Delegal and the arrival of reinforcements for the military have broken the backbone of the defiance of the law by the negroes.  A whole regiment of troops are now on duty in and about Darien, under command of Col. Lawton, but it is not believed there will be further bloodshed.
            There are still several ringleaders of the blacks wanted by the officers of the law.  Unless they come in and surrender or are brought in by their friends and turned over to the authorities the troops will go after them to-day.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 3 September 1899; pg. 4 cols. 1-3

[Photo of troops in front of Darien court house with this article—ALH]

RAPID WORK OF COURT AT DARIEN—Jurymen on Second Batch of Five Were Divided—REPORTED TO THE JUDGE—That They Were Unable To Agree as to the Guilt of Some Prisoners—THEIR VERDICT, HOWEVER, ACCEPTED—Three Rioters Convicted, One Acquitted and a Mistrial Reported on the Other—Grand Jury Has the Delegal Case in Hand.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 2—(Special)—At Darien today the court moved more rapidly in the trial of the negro rioters.  The jury, out last night on the second batch of five, sat on the case for twelve hours and then returned with the statement that it was impossible for them to agree on the guilt of Josephine Bird, the negress, while as for Abram Green they found a verdict of not guilty.
            Judge Seabrook sent the jury back and told them to agree and report.  The foreman stated that they would not agree if they were out six months and Judge Seabrook told them they could sit seven if necessary.  In about an hour the Judge sent for the jury, accepting their verdict, as they were then ready to return it.
            Those convicted were Jones Green, Moses Miller and Lawrence Baker.
            Josephine Bird’s case was reported a mistrial and Abram Green was found not guilty.
            The cases against Charles McDonald, Dave Petty, Hugh Thompson, Moses Bailey, and John Thompson were on trial in the meantime and the jury was out only about ten minutes when a verdict of guilty against them was returned with the exception of John Thompson.
            The case against Bill Jenkins was tried separately, he having employed a different lawyer from the rest, and the jury brought in a verdict of guilty against him in about ten minutes’ time.
            Court then adjourned until Monday morning next.
            The grand jury this afternoon took up the case of Henry Delegal, charged with rape, and about whom the entire trouble at Darien originated.  The jury did not conclude its labors and court adjourned until Monday.
            Lawyers for the defense of the rioters today intimated that they would endeavor to secure new trials for the negroes and asked the court when they could make a motion to that effect.  Judge Seabrook stated that he thought they had better wait until all the cases had been tried and sentences were passed before the lawyers began to consider propositions for new trials.  He state, however, that he was not exactly clear on that point and he would let the lawyers know later.
            Judge Seabrook is rushing things at Darien.  Three juries a day are sitting and the trials are being pushed night and day, although it will probably take all next week to get through with them.  Then the murder case is to come up, followed by the rape case.

BRUNSWICK FOLKS VERY INDIGNANT—Editorial in a Negro Newspaper Conveys a Threat—ITS AUTHOR IS WELL KNOWN—As a Very Bad Negro, Who Has Caused Trouble Before—GOOD MEN OF HIS RACE AGAINST HIM—Attacks the Mocks Family and States That Negroes of Brunswick Are Ripe for a Row.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 2—(Special)—The people of Brunswick have perhaps never been so deeply aroused and indignant as they are today from an editorial publication in The Brunswick Herald, edited by Henry A. Hagler, a well-known negro, in which he states that “there are upward of 200 negroes well armed in Brunswick, who are ready and sworn to protect us with the last drop of their blood.”
            The editorial in question is a second one of the like character, the first having appeared last week, during which Hagler wrote very strongly regarding a case now pending in the courts, here against Mr. J.B. Mock, who is being tried for an alleged offense of assaulting a young negro girl.  Hagler seems to have the idea that the Mock family are after him, and the editorial starts out directed at them, but includes all the whites of Brunswick, in a desperate effort to bring a bloody conflict between the whites and blacks of this county.  The editorial in full reads:
            THE MOCKS ARE MAD—“Tell Hagler to see me, and see me damn quick,” the is the message that reached me this week while out in Camden county soliciting subscribers from one of the Mocks, of whom we wrote last week as having raped a little negro girl in his store in Brunswick some days ago.  Judging from the past record of the Mocks, they are not yet the angels we would like them to be, but we were fully acquainted with this fact when the former article was written, and for the information of the whole crowd of Mocks we state that we will be in Brunswick about the middle of next week; that we have a brace of revolvers and Winchesters, and with assurances of kindest consideration we state that the first person that disturbs the even tenor of the way will have the early opportunity of being fanned by the gentle zephyrs from the delectable mountains.  It is not our intention to be discourteous to any one; no gentleman would.  We wish to be fair and impartial to all mankind and in return all mankind must treat us as a man, not as a pigmy; a gentleman, not a lackey.  If the Mocks have any grievances against us, let them be written out and sent to our office, and they will receive consideration.  Threats with us count for nothing.  We know now how we are situated, and for the benefit of the Mocks and any other hothead who would rush in where angels fear to tread, we will state that there is upward of 200 negroes well armed in Brunswick who are sworn to protect us with the last drop of their life blood.  It behooves the Messrs. Mocks, et al, to awake to the fact that times and conditions with the negro have changed.  They are now not the arrant coward they once were.  They have reached the conclusion that the cause of one is the cause of all, and that since they are doomed to die anyway, they may as well leave some vacant homes other than theirs when they are ushered into the eternity.  We guess this is enough said.
            CAUSED CONSIDERABLE COMMENT—When the editorial appeared on the streets it created a wave of intense comment amongst the whites and blacks of Brunswick.  The white people, and the better class of colored people alike, felt outraged at the attempt of Hagler to bring on trouble between the whites and blacks of this community, and on every corner the talk was heard as men gathered in groups.
            Tonight correspondent’s offices were visited by Deputy Revenue Collector W.H. Matthews and Deputy Collector of Customs Eugene Belcher, the latter of whom is chairman of the republican eleventh district congressional committee, and they, on behalf of the colored people, denounce Hagler as a crazy man who was irresponsible for his attacks and whom the colored race all condemned for efforts to cause trouble.  They stated that they colored people would call a meeting for Monday and pass resolutions condemning Hagler’s utterances.
            Hagler’s history is one of an effort to arouse the whites against the blacks.  Bill Pledger, the noted republican leader of Atlanta, seized his office there for his writings against prominent people, and in Brunswick the sheriff has his office, and Hagler publishes The Herald at Charlotte, N.C.  From Charlotte The Herald is mailed to Brunswick for distribution.  Hagler is the same negro who aroused the whites of the south so greatly several years ago by the bitterness of his attack in his Atlanta paper against the memory of Jefferson Davis.  It was at the time of the removal of the ex-president’s remains to Virginia, and the day the casket passed through Atlanta the editorial appeared.  It inflamed the whites and began Hagler’s downward career in Atlanta.  He then embittered John H. Devereaux, collector of customs at Savannah; Henry A. Rucker, collector at Atlanta, and many of the leading colored men in the state against him by the savagery of his attacks on them personally and against President McKinley.
            Hagler is a firebrand in any community, and the sentiment of both the whites and better class of colored people here is that Brunswick does not want him any longer.
            Following so closely on the Darien race trouble, his writings are like a match to a powder magazine.
            Tonight the leading negroes of Brunswick furnished your correspondent with a card denouncing The Herald’s article as untrue, and stating that they are law-abiding citizens, and do not want trouble with the whites.

The Atlanta Constitution; Tuesday 5 September 1899; pg. 4 col. 1

JUDGE SEABROOK GRANTS THE DELEGALS A CHANGE OF VENUE—Slayers of Deputy Sheriff Townsend Will Be Arraigned for Trial in Effingham County—DECREE CAUSES SENSATION—Prisoners Will Be Carried to Savannah Today for Safe-Keeping—CASES TO COME UP WEDNESDAY WEEK—Judge Declares He Does not Question Wisdom of Governor Candler in Sending Troops to Darien, but Fears a Fair Trial Is Impossible.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 4—(Special)—“I am opposed to trying cases that involve human life, where the shadow of the courthouse falls upon the military,” was in substance the statement made by Judge Seabrook from he bench of McIntosh superior court today, as he announced his decision to grant a change of venue in the cases against John Delegal, Ed Delegal, and Mirrandy Delegal, under indictment for the murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend.
            This statement created a stir in the courtroom and great discussion on all sides.  Judge Seabrook followed it with the declaration that he did not question the wisdom of Governor Candler in sending the military forces to Darien at the time he did to protect the place, neither did he mean to criticize the judgment displayed by Governor Candler in calling out the military, but for the reason given and for other reasons he did not think necessary to mention from the bench, he had decided to grant the change of venue to the accused and set the case against them for trial in Effingham county superior court on Wednesday week, September 13th.
            The calling of the murder case today was something of a surprise and attorneys for the defense immediately sprang their plea for a change of venue.
            Judge Twiggs, for the defense, opened with the declaration that the accused could not secure an impartial trial in McIntosh county, due to the inflamed condition of the public mind, and in support of this argument presented affidavits from Captain Gleason, Captain West and others of the First Georgia regiment, who were present from Savannah during the exciting times that followed the murder of Deputy Townsend, and cited the fact that Henry Delegal and other prisoners had been removed to Savannah for safe keeping.
            The three prisoners had been brought to the courtroom under a military escort of twelve men and the courtroom was crowded with spectators.
            When the defense summoned Colonel Lawton, who is in charge of the entire military forces at Darien, there was a buzz of excitement.  Colonel Lawton, when questioned by the defense, made a statement to the effect that he preferred not to testify in regard to the case at all.  He said in substance that occupying the position he did in the adjustment of the troubles in McIntosh county, he did not think it would be proper for him to testify and he firmly requested to be excused.  The defense decided to grant the request, and Colonel Lawton stepped from the stand.
            Attorney Charlton, for the prosecution, stated that as the defense had not offered any facts in evidence, only surmises and suppositions that the accused could not get a fair trial, the prosecution did not feel it necessary to offer counter evidence, but if the court wanted counter evidence presented the attorneys for the prosecution would have to have a little time to prepare it, as the plea for a change of venue was unexpected.  Judge Seabrook gave the prosecution until 4 o’clock this afternoon to present counter evidence.
            In the interval the court took up the cases for riot against Ben Brown, Bob Odistal, Harper Gordon, Henry Gordon, and Freeman Elverson.  The jury convicted three and acquitted Bob Odistal and Ben Brown.  This evening the cases against Jim Ross, Morris Seabroe, Dan Johnson, Kit Alexander and Ed Follien were tried.  Four were found guilty and the court ordered Ed Follien discharged.  There are eight more rioters now in jail and they will be tried tomorrow.  Indictments are out now for several more, and these will be tried as soon as they are arrested.
            Wednesday morning the case against Henry Delegal, charged with raping the white woman, will be called.  Advices from Darien tonight are that the military forces will, in all probability, leave tomorrow for Savannah, taking the Delegals to Savannah jail.

The Atlanta Constitution; Wednesday 6 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 4

DARIEN RIOTERS GIVEN TERMS—Twenty-Two of the Convicted Negroes Sentenced—SIX ARE HEAVILY FINED—One Thousand Dollars or Twelve Months Imposed on the Leaders—SIXTEEN GOT OFF A SHADE LIGHTER—The Case Against Harry Delegal, Charged with Assaulting White Woman, Will Be Taken Up When the Court Convenes Today.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 5—(Special)—Sentences were passed on twenty-two rioters at Darien today, six being fined one thousand dollars each or twelve months on the chain gang and sixteen being fined two hundred and fifty dollars each or twelve months in the gang.  Two others are out on bond and were not present to have sentences passed.  It is presumed that they will not show up and it is hardly probable that any of the convicted ones will be able to pay their fines.
            The ring-leaders who got the thousand dollar sentences were Jonas Green, James Wylly, Ben Dunham, Charles McDonald, Joseph Kimmon, Charles Turner.  The others sentenced were Moses Miller Jr., Hugh Thompson, Dave Petty, James Bailey, Freeman Elverson, Sharper Gordon, Henry Golden, James Ross, Kit Alexander, Dan Johnson, Horace Seabroe, Levi Mitchell, Charles Baptist, Marshall Dorsey and two women, Maria Currey and Louisa Underwood.
            In passing sentence Judge Seabrook took occasion to deliver the rioters and the spectators a lecture on the necessity of upholding the law at all times and the penalty that must follow any violation of it.  The trial of the last batch of eight rioters today, the conviction of four and passing of sentences on the twenty-two, were the main features of the court proceedings, and tomorrow the court will take up the case of Henry Delegal, charged with raping the white woman.
            Colonel Lawton left Darien today with the remainder of his military forces, it being in his judgment unnecessary for the military to remain longer.  Henry Delegal was brought over from Savannah on tonight’s train under a military escort of forty men and these will probably remain throughout his trial.

DELEGALS ALL IN ONE JAIL—Prisoners Held at Darien Have Been Transferred to Savannah.

            Savannah, Ga., September 5—(Special)—John Delegal, Eddie Delegal and Mary Delegal, their mother, arrived from Darien at 1:30 o’clock this afternoon.  They were immediately placed in the Chatham county jail, where they will be held until the day of their trial in Effingham county.  Colonel A.R. Lawton, Lieutenant Edward A. Leonard and the Liberty Independent troop, thirty-eight strong, came from Darien with the prisoners.  They were met at the depot by Sergeant of Police Owen Reilly, and a squad of eleven patrolmen.  The “red maria” attracted a great deal of attention as it hurried down Liberty street loaded with blue coats.  Many persons thought there was a riot and that this was the reason for the assembling of the officers of the law.
            “It is needless for me to march them through the streets of Savannah and attract a crowd.  You are fully able to take care of them and transport them to the jail without any excitement,” said Colonel Lawton to Sergeant Reilly.
            The patrolmen formed in double ranks and the Delegals were handed over to them.  They were handcuffed to each other and were escorted by Deputy Sheriff T.A. Baily, of Darien.  Mary Delegal, the mother of the two boys, followed behind.  She was not shackled.  Up to this time Henry Delegal, who is charged with rape, did not know that his wife and youngest son, Eddie, were under arrest.  He was in the corridor on the first floor looking through the bars.  The sight of his wife and two boys startled him.  He could hardly believe his own eyes.
            “Praise to God, my whole family is in this place; God will do right and justice is my hope,” he said.
            Colonel Lawton announced on his arrival that he was home to stay.  The commanding officer of the First Georgia regiment, who has been in Darien almost since the trouble first started two weeks ago, looked quite fatigued.  He stated that everything was quiet at Darien and that the trouble had all ended.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 7 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 3

IS HARD TO SECURE A JURY—McIntosh Residents Are Prejudiced Against Henry Delegal.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 6—(Special)—Trouble is being experienced in McIntosh county in securing a jury to try Henry Delegal.  Today over seventy jurors were summoned and out of that number only eleven have been secured.  The jurors go down mostly for cause and about nine-tenths of them admit their prejudice in the case.
            Court has adjourned until tomorrow to give the sheriff another chance to bring in men and that official is actively at work tonight hunting available material to present to the court tomorrow.

The Atlanta Constitution; Friday 8 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 2

DELEGAL’S CASE WITH JURY—Defense Offered No Evidence, but Prisoner Makes Statement.

            Brunswick, Ga., September 7—(Special)—The twelfth juror in the case against Henry Delegal was secured in McIntosh court today and after a heated trial behind closed doors the case is late tonight in the hands of the jury.  There is a belief that it will result in a mistrial.  The woman’s character precludes the probability of the jury agreeing on the case tonight at least.  The trial opened today with the woman’s father on the stand and the impression made by his testimony was unfavorable to the prosecution.  The woman was then placed on the stand and told a story of Delegal having forced his way into her house on the night of December 2d last.
            The defense offered no evidence beyond the statement of the accused and he denied the charge against him.

The Atlanta Constitution; Saturday 9 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 4

DELEGAL GETS A MISTRIAL—Jury Was Unable To Agree and Change of Venue Was Granted.

            Brunswick Ga September 8—(Special)—The Jury in the case of Henry Delegal returned a statement that they stood seven for conviction and five for acquittal after being out all last night.  Judge Seabrook ordered a mistrial.  Declared on motion for change of venue it was granted and the case set for re-hearing at the special term of Effingham court the same week that the Delegal murderers are to be tried.  Judge Seabrook and all the Savannah attorneys returned to Savannah today.  Delegal was carried back under military escort and lodged in Savannah jail.
            Effingham’s special term of court begins next Wednesday.  The prisoners will all be removed next Tuesday night.

The Atlanta Constitution; Wednesday 13 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 2

DELEGALS ARRIVE AT GUYTON—Will Be Placed on Trial for Their Lives Today.

            Guyton, Ga., September 12—(Special)—Sheriff W.W. Griffin, assisted by Deputies L.B. Smith and J.J. Usher, of this county, arrived here from Savannah at 3 o’clock this evening, with Henry and John Delegal, the alleged murder and rapist, on their way to Springfield, where they will be placed upon trial tomorrow morning for their lives.  It will be remembered that old man Henry Delegal was placed upon trial a few days ago at a special term of McIntosh superior court for an assault upon a white woman, and a mistrial resulted, whereupon a change of venue was made by Judge Seabrook to this county.  The brothers and friends of Deputy Sheriff Townsend, who was killed by John Delegal, in McIntosh county, a few days ago, accompanied the sheriff’s posse to Springfield and will be present at the trial tomorrow morning.

The Atlanta Constitution; Friday 15 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 3

JOHN DELEGAL GOES FOR LIFE—Convicted of the Murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend—DURING THE DARIEN RIOT—Jury Recommended Him To Mercy of the Court—AND THIS SAVED HIM FROM GALLOWS—Henry Delegal, Charged with Rape, Was Placed on Trial Yesterday Afternoon at Guyton—All the Evidence Has Been Taken.

            Guyton, Ga., September 14—The case of John Delegal of the Darien rioters sent to the Effingham court on change of venue from McIntosh county was concluded today in a verdict of guilty of murder with a recommendation to the mercy of the court.  He was sentenced to life imprisonment.  John Delegal it will be remembered shot and killed Deputy Sheriff Townsend, who went to arrest him during the time of the riots.  His brother and sister, who were indicted with him, were acquitted.
            The case of Henry Delegal for rape which, after a mistrial in Darien last week, was sent to this county on a change of venue was taken up this afternoon.  This covers the case out of which grew the riots.  There was no trouble in securing a jury and the evidence was quickly submitted.

The Atlanta Constitution; Saturday 16 September 1899; pg. 3 col. 2

HENRY DELEGAL IS SET FREE—JURY BROUGHT IN A VERDICT OF NOT GUILTY—Crime Charged Against Him Caused the Recent Riot at Darien.

            Guyton, Ga., September 15—Henry Delegal, colored, was today acquitted in the Effingham court of the charge of criminal assault upon a white woman in McIntosh county.  This was the affair out of which grew the Darien riots.  Arguments of the attorneys were made at a late hour last night, and the jury remained locked up until noon today when a verdict of not guilty was returned.
            The cases of Edward and Melinda Delegal, charged with being accessories to the murder of Sheriff Townsend, were begun this afternoon.  These are the last the [sic] Darien riot cases.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 17 September 1899; pg. 7 col. 4

EDWARD DELEGAL FOR LIFE—Convicted as Accessory to Murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend.

            Guyton, Ga., September 16—The Darien riot cases were cleared up today by the Effingham court.  Edward Delegal was convicted as accessory in the murder of Deputy Sheriff Townsend, of Darien, and sentenced to life imprisonment.  Malinda Delegal, his mother, indicted under the same charge, was acquitted.  A summary of the riot trials show:  Henry Delegal, for criminal assault, acquitted; John and Edward Delegal, for murder, sentenced to the penitentiary for life, and twenty-eight rioters sentenced to various terms of imprisonment.

The Atlanta Constitution; Monday 7 January 1901; pg. 2 col. 3

HOME OF CARNEGIE IS BURNED; Was Located on Cumberland Island and Loss is $50,000

            Fernandina, Fla.; January 6--The residence of W.C. Carnegie, at Stafford Place, five miles from Dungeness, on Cumberland Island, was burned to the ground yesterday afternoon.  The loss was almost total, very little being saved on the lower floor.  The estimated loss is $50,000.  Mr. Carnegie is a son of Mrs. Lucy Carnegie, of Dungeness, and of national reputation as an expert golfer.  The origin of the fire is unknown.

The Atlanta Constitution; Wednesday 12 June 1901

Pg. 2 col. 3

GRIFFIN TO BE HANGED FRIDAY—Slayer of Conductor Latimer Confesses and Is Ready To Die.

            Brunswick, Ga., June 11—(Special)—Tricy Griffin, the negro slayer of Conductor Latimer, is to hang on Friday, and the scaffold has been erected in the jail yard.  The hanging will be private.  Griffin has confessed that he killed Conductor Latimer and says he is now willing to die.

The Atlanta Constitution; Saturday 15 June 1901

Pg. 5 col. 4

GRIFFIN STRANGLED TO DEATH—Slayer of Conductor Latimer is Hanged at Brunswick.

            Brunswick, Ga., June 14—(Special)—Tricy Griffin, convicted of the murder of Conductor Latimer, was hanged in the jail here today at noon, in the presence of about forty people, including Detectives Conally and Scarlett, of Atlanta, who effected his capture and conviction.  Prior to the hour set for the hanging, the streets surrounding were well filled with people anxious to catch a glimpse of the condemned man.
            Griffin was kept in his cell until a short time before the execution, when he was brought into the jail corridor to prepare for the death trap.  He was allowed to talk to the crowds outside the jail fence, and to many of these he said goodby [sic].
            In the jail corridor Griffin reviewed the act which sent him to the gallows at length and said that he did not intend to kill Conductor Latimer, but only meant to frighten him.  He attributed all his present trouble to women, cards and whisky.  Griffin was led to the trap and unflinchingly stood while the black cap was fastened and the noose adjusted by Deputy Sheriff Price of Wayne county.  The drop was sprung and Griffin’s body shot downward to recoil from the jerk.  It was seen that the knot had slipped from under the jawbone to the back of his neck.  This prolonged his death evidently by strangulation, and it was about five minutes before Drs. Blanton and Blaine [sic] pronounced life extinct.  The body was cut down and placed in a coffin for burial.  This ended the first legal hanging in Glynn county in seventy years.

The Atlanta Constitution; Monday 20 January 1902; pg. 2 col. 1

Stafford Heirs To Sue for Cumberland Island Property

            Brunswick, Ga.,--January 19.--(Special)--The heirs of Robert Stafford are preparing to bring suit against the Carnegies for the possession of Cumberland Island property.
            The Carnegies have spent about a half million dollars in improving the property on the island, and the suit will be an interesting one from many standpoints.

Historical Newspapers, Birth, Marriage, & Death Announcements, 1851-2003; The Atlanta Constitution; 27 April 1902

BRUNSWICK HEARS ATLANTAN—Hon. Albert Cox Delivers Eloquent Memorial Address There.

            Brunswick, Ga., April 26.—(Special.)—Memorial day was appropriately celebrated in this city today.  The feature was the unveiling of the monument recently erected in Hanover park to commemorate the confederate dead, and about which there has been considerable discord in the ranks of the veterans.  That body turned out today only about half of its members to assist in the unveiling exercises.  Commander Dart was greatly missed at the head of the old warriors, this being the first parade he has not commanded in many years.
            The unveiling address was delivered by Hon. Albert Cox, of Atlanta, and it was thoroughly enjoyed by the large crowd present in Hanover park.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 14 June 1903; pg. 5 cols. 2 & 3

Brunswick, Georgia Social News June 13

            Miss Arabella Wright has returned from Lucy Cobb, and after a few days at home leaves for Europe, where she will spend the summer.
            Mrs. R.T. Hicks is spending some time in Brunswick, the guest of her mother, Mrs. C.H. Colesberry.
            Mrs. Jennings Butts is spending a few days on Cumberland Island.
            Mrs. C.L. Elliott and her guest, Mrs. R.L. Branham, of Waycross, are with friends in Jacksonville for a short time.
            Mrs. Courtland Symmes and little sons are spending some time with friends in Atlanta.
            Mr. and Mrs. Julius May have returned to Brunswick, after a visit to New York.
            Mrs. William Naussbaum leaves next week to spend some time in Albany, the guest of Mrs. L. Ehrlich.
            Miss Calla Lilly, of Vienna, is expected in a few days, to spend some time in Brunswick, the guest of Misses Bessie and Fannie Symmes.
            Mrs. W.B. Clarkson has returned to her home in Florida, after a visit to friends in Brunswick.
            Misses Marie and Josephine Torras are spending a short time the guests of friends in Atlanta.
            Mrs. J.F. Bays has returned from a visit to friends in Jacksonville.
            Dr. and Mrs. Wyllys Rede and children have returned from a week on St. Simons Island.
            Mrs. Robert Levison entertained a few afternoons ago in compliment to Mrs. S.J. Oppenheim of St. Louis.
            Mr. and Mrs. A.M. May have moved into their cottage on St. Simons, and have as their guests Miss Annie White and Mr. W.H. Morse, of Abbeville, S.C.; Mr. and Mrs. John Townsend and Miss Nora Hendry, of Quitman, and Mrs. J.E. Way and children of Walthourville.
            Captain and Mrs. W.M. Tupper, Mr. and Mrs. R.B. Tupper and little Miss Tupper have moved down to their cottage on St. Simons for the summer.
            Mrs. C.T. Calnan entertained with flinch a few evenings ago, her guests being Miss Mamie Page, of Savannah; Miss Bessie Smith, Miss Florence Porter, Mrs. Lillian Hurst, Messrs. Oren Douglas, W.C. Brown, F.C. Bunkley.
            Mr. and Mrs. A.C. Banks entertained Tuesday evening in compliment to Miss Susie Lamar, their invited guests being Misses Susie Lamar, Arabella Wright, Hazle Nightingale, Ethel Conoley, Marie DeVoe, Clara Lamar, Maude Nightingale, Lula Burdette, Fannie Symmes, Reta McKinnon, Marie Burdette, Messrs. Roy Fuller, Lawson Lamar, C.C. Cosby, Frank Stacy, Holmes Sheldon, Tom O'Connor, J.Y. Brame, Ivine Burdette, J.W. Bailey, C.M. Peddicord, Fred Penniman, Howard Smith, George Smith, J.L. Andrews, Hunter Hopkins, Hugh Burford, M.C. Sale, Insley West.
            Mrs. May Screvin has retunred to Darien after a short visit to Brunswick.
            Mr. and Mrs. J.J. Conoley and Miss Ethel Conoley are spending some time in their cottage on St. Simons.
            Miss Aline Jeffers, of Waycross, is the guest of Misses Laura and Louise Baker for a week or tow.
            Mrs. Constant Miller and children are spending some time with friends in Quitman.
            Miss Etta Rothschild, of Darien, is the guest of Mrs. J.J. Lissner for a week or two.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 27 December 1903

Pg. 10 col. 6

BRUNSWICK, GA—The engagement has been announced of Miss Mary Emily Scarlett, of Fancy Bluff, and Mr. Frank A. Dunn, of this city, the wedding to occur January 6 at the home of the bride’s mother, Mrs. G.S. Scarlett.  Both these young people are well and popularly known in Brunswick.  Miss Scarlett is one of Glynn county’s most popular young girls, and Mr. Dunn is one of the city’s most popular young men.  He has been closely identified in military circles for several years and has served as captain and lieutenant of several companies.  He occupies an important position under his father, Colonel H.T. Dunn, who is collector of customs at this port.

The Washington Post; Tuesday 15 January 1907; pg. 3 col. 3

TO OUST MRS. CARNEGIE; Cumberland Island Estate of Philanthropist's Sister-in-law in Dispute

            Savannah, Ga., Jan. 14.--Deputy United States Marshall Wilson has returned from Dungeness, the home of Mrs. Lucy C. Carnegie, on Cumberland Island, where he served her with papers in what is expected to develop into a suit for the land she now occupies with her country home.  An effort is being made by Cornelius [Cornelia] Stafford Williams, of New York, and Nancy Stafford Gassman, of Zurich, Switzerland, to perpetuate the testimony of several aged witnesses.
            The plaintiffs claim that it is their intention to file suit for 7,740 acres of land on Cumberland Island, now claimed by Mrs. Carnegie, as it was the property of Robert Stafford, whom they claim was their father.  The deputy was informed that Andrew Carnegie is expected at Dungeness next week.  Mrs. Carnegie is his sister-in-law.

The Brunswick Journal (Brunswick, Georgia); Saturday 11 January 1908
[no page numbers on any of the four pages. I have full copies of pages and margins, but no numbers--June (Lott) Nevar]

First Pg. Col. 2

THE KING’S DAUGHTER’S TO HOLD ANNUAL MEETING.
            Notices have been issued for the annual election of officers of the Glynn Circle of the King’s Daughters, the meeting to be held at the home of Miss Katie Hall, 501 Union Street, at 8 o’clock on the evening of Jan. 10.

CHAPTER OF MERCY REORGANIZED YESTERDAY.
            The Episcopal Church has always had a charitable organization whose work was non-sectarian, St, Mark’s Church of this city has reorganized this branch of church work under the head “Chapter of Mercy.”
            A meeting was held yesterday and the following efficient officers elected: Miss Ethel Conoly, warden; Miss Fannie Mason, treasurer, Miss Josie Smith, secretary, to act until the return of Miss Maria Blaine.
            Any appeals for aid in the way of clothing, food, or along any other line of want, will be promptly met and relieved by any of the officers named.

First Pg. Col. 4

JUDGE REAGAN WILL OPEN COURT
JUDGE LITTLEJOHN COMES FOR SECOND WEEK OF THE TERM.
            Judge Reagan from Henry County was named yesterday by Governor Smith to open Glynn Superior Court Monday afternoon at 2 o’clock and preside for the first week of the term in the place of Judge T.A. Parker, who remains quite ill at his home in Waycross.
            Judge Littlejohn of Americus will hold court the second week of the term. The order was received at noon today by Clerk duBignon.

A NEW FIRM MEMBER
            George F. Gay, the furniture man, expects soon to get up a sign to read, “Gay & Sons,” as another young man arrived at this home early this morning. Mrs. Gay and the little chap are doing very nicely.

LADIES AID MEETING
            An important meeting of the Ladies Aid Society of the Methodist church will be held at the home of Col. D.W. Krauss, Monday afternoon at 3 o’clock.

CLUB ELECTS OFFICERS
            These officers were elected by the Progress Club at its annual meeting to serve through 1908: L. Goldsmith, President, and Fred Pfeiffer, Secretary.

First Pg. Col. 5

DEPUTY SHERIFF PYLES NOW DEPUTY U.S. MARSHALL.
            It is now R.B. Pyles, Deputy Sheriff of Glynn County and Deputy U. S. Marshall for southeast Georgia from Brunswick to Waycross, Brunswick to a point halfway between this city and Savannah and on the Southern to Lumber City. U. S. Marshall White, while in the city yesterday, made the announcement.

COL. GOODYEAR CANDIDATE FOR CITY ATTORNEY.
            It was announced on the streets today that Col. C.P. Goodyear will be an applicant before Council for city attorneyship. Col. Goodyear’s many friends will be interested in this announcement.

First Pg. Col. 6

CONCERT AT OGLETHORPE ON SUNDAY EVENING.
            The third in a series of concerts being given by the Oglethorpe Orchestra at the Oglethorpe promises to attract all lovers of good music who are cordially invited to attend.  Leader Ternest has arranged a pleasing program for Sunday evening, commencing at 8 o’clock.

No page number, Col. 2

SOCIETY

            Mrs. J.D. Sparks will entertain her son Robert this afternoon.
            Mrs. John C Stiles is the guest of her mother, Mrs. Burdette, in Savannah.
            Miss Edith Wilkes returned to her home in New York on today’s Mallory.
            Mrs. Haym and Harry Haym are being welcomed home after a two month visit to Columbus.
            Mrs. W.S. Stacy, who spent some time in the city, has returned to her home in Fort Mills, South Carolina.
            Miss Madeline Downing is the guest of Miss Mary Coachman in Jacksonville.
            Mr. and Mrs. George Hill are recently arrived guests at Mrs. C.L. Elliot’s.
            Mr. and Mrs. Guy Harvard are back from a visit to relatives in North Carolina.
            Mrs. James Foster and little son are being entertained by Mrs. J.B. Wright at her home on Union Street.
            Dr. and Mrs. Blanton have their daughter, Mrs. Edward E. Smith, and her little daughter, of Atlanta, as guests.
            Mrs. Anson W. Ball and her little daughters will arrive in the city the early part of the coming week, to visit Mrs. Ball’s parents, Sheriff and Mrs. Berrie.
            Mrs. J.F. Baya is the guest of Mrs. J.W. Thomas for a few days. Mrs. Baya has been the recipient of many social attentions and is warmly welcomed by many who miss her as a resident.
            Tuesday of next week, Mrs. H.W. Cornell, will entertain at luncheon in the Oglethorpe, where she is a guest.  Mrs. Cornell is a most thoughtful hostess, and entertained delightfully several times last winter.
            Mrs. Alice Clay’s card party was very enjoyable.  A very handsome drawn work tea cloth was the first prize, won by Mrs. R.R. Hopkins.  A bottle of fine perfume fell to the lot of Mrs. A.C. Banks, and was a delightful consolation.
            The Ladies Aid Society of the Presbyterian Church will meet with Mrs. W.M. Tupper, as is their annual custom, for the election of officers for the year.  Mrs. Tupper always makes meetings enjoyable, by holding a social session, serving refreshments, after all business has been transacted.
            Miss Ophelia Dent will take a congenial party down to Hofwyl on Sunday for a short stay at her father’s plantation, her guest including Miss Florence Stevens, Miss Anna Stevens, Mrs. Beirne Gordon, Jr., Mr. Fort Hammond and Mr. Joseph D. Taylor--Savannah Press.

No page number Col. 3

            Mrs. J.W. Griffith returns to her home in Savannah today, after a visit to Brunswick, where she was cordially welcomed by her girl friends.  As Miss Rita McKinnon, Miss Griffith was one of he brides of 1907 and one of the most popular ladies of this social set.
            Miss Arabella Wright, one of the handsomest of Brunswick’s society belles, is rejoicing in the possession of a new horse which has just reached the city from Atlanta.  The arrival is a perfect beauty, and his proud owner looks forward to some happy hours in the saddle and driving.
            The Acacia Club will enjoy a most original scheme of entertainment today when Mrs. F.D. Aiken will be hostess for the club.  Miss Sallie Aiken of New York will be the guest of honor.  Mrs. Aiken has adapted the “Katzenjammer Kids” as the decorative feature, and Uncle Heiney and the long suffering Mrs. Katzenjammer will figure as markers and decorations.  Miss Fe Symone has done some very clever work, and the figures will be prized for their daintiness.  The prizes will be very pretty pieces.

No page number Col. 3

WANTS (Want ads)

FOR RENT
            For rent-Two furnished rooms, one large room and one small.  Apply to Mrs. Williamson, corner Norwich and Monk Street.

FORT RENT
            For rent-unfurnished rooms, suitable for light housekeeping.  Apply 608 S. Albany Street.

FOR RENT
            A nice country home, dwelling of 6 rooms, kitchen, servant house, garden, strawberry bed, and some patches, one mile from depot, church, and good school, healthy climate, and water.  50 miles above Augusta on C. & W. C. R. R.; price $13.50 a month. Address Mrs. B.C. Cade, Bordeaux, S.C.

FOR RENT
            Cottage, 5 rooms and bath; close in.  Apply Mrs. Hattie Latimer, 117 North Union Street.
            Found-a bunch of keys on F Street.  Owner may have same by proving property and paying for this ad.  B. Journal Office.

WANTED- One room, unfurnished, near business center and in good locality.  Address G. 204 E Street.

SPECIAL NOTICES

DR. BULLOCK HOME
Dr. C.R. Bullock, after a pleasant two week visit in Atlanta, returned to the city yesterday.

The Brunswick Journal (Brunswick, Georgia); Monday 10 February 1908

Pg. 1 Col. 5

NEW HOTEL ROYAL WILL BE POPULAR PLACE
            The personal popularity of Host Miller, of the Hotel Royal, the new European hotel opposite the Oglethorpe, which opened Saturday, assures the new house fine patronage.
            As the Host of the Central, Manager Miller made a success which in his new quarters he will more than repeat.
            The first day’s arrivals Saturday included guests from New York, Baltimore, and several northern cities.
            The Hotel Royal occupies the entire upper floor of the new Brunswick building and is a perfectly appointed, up to date hotel in every detail. Mr. and Mrs. Miller have leased the house for a number of years, thus adding another fine hostelry to care for visitors.

Pg. 3 Col. 2

SOCIETY
            Little Miss Bunkley is with Mr. and Mrs. Chas. Bunkley.
            Mr. And Mrs. Eugene Creamer is entertaining a little son.
            A little daughter has arrived at the home of Mr. and Mrs. W.M. Lucree.
            Miss Arabella Wright entertains with a formal tea this afternoon, inviting her girl friends to meet Miss Chaffee, a visitor at the home of Mrs. William Nightingale.
            The Cinderella dances at the Oglethorpe every Saturday are enjoyed by the younger set.  Dancing is indulged in until twelve, and then a feature resembling the dance the little maid of the fairy story took part in.  Usually a number of suppers, more or less on the chafing dish order, follow, and the week’s social candle goes merrily out.

The Brunswick Journal; 24 May 1911 (Extracted by John Frost Murlin)

COL. DART WRITES OF LIEUTENANT PETTIGREW—History of Lieutenant Geo. W. Pettigrew.

            How few know those finer traits of human character, in our daily contact with each other until after being brought out by crucial tests; here was a Brunswick boy who made no pretense of a more heroic mould than his average, every day acquaintances, yet, when occasion offered, towered above them like some incarnate knight.
            He was almost the first of the old riflemen to form our company on October 20, 1860, and when the call was made in “61” for volunteers, almost the first to answer, and was mustered into service with the company on May 27, 1861, and marched away to the call of duty, leaving behind a young wife, though the bridal kiss had scarcely left her cheek; was it an innate soul prophecy, no one ever knew, but he always contended he would be killed in the first battle; laugh as they might, as the boys guyed him he was ever firm in this belief.
            He was possessed of a rich contralto voice, and often in camp would sing for the boys.  His favorite was “Woodman Spare That Tree”.  After a hard day’s march we arrived on the 12^th of December 1862 near Hamilton’s Crossing just south of Fredericksburg.  That night (a cold one) gathered around a camp fire, Capt. Dart asked him to sing, “Woodman Spare That Tree”.  He was standing near a large oak.  At first he excused himself, but we became insistent and he yielded.  I had heard him sing that old, old song before, but never with the same deep pathos as that night, and when he came to that part, “Woodman, forbear they stroke, cut not this earth beyond ties, oh spare that aged oak now towering to the skies” his voice grew tremulous, and he thinking of the old oaks he saw so often in his boyhood, bamboled beneath with his youthful playmates, in the loved home, Brunswick.  Boys from other commands gathered around to listen to the song, and when he ended there was more than one moist cheek.  After a pause he said:  “Let us get some rest, for who can tell what tomorrow may bring.”
            At about ten o’clock the next day (13^th), we took position on an old country road; in front were dense woods.  Skirmishing was going on in our front, we being held in reserve.  I think it was about one o’clock when Meade, who had his division marked in by two lines, assaulted.  (I think it was Gregg’s brave boys as ever faced a foe), but they were overpowered and driven back, and our brigade, Lawton’s—afterwards Gordon’s—under the command of Col. E.N. Atkinson (than whom no more gallant officer ever wore a sword), were ordered forward.  The woods was thick with briers, wild roses and fallen limbs, many cut down by shot and shell from the enemy’s batteries in front.
            Our company, A 26^th Georgia, was on the extreme right.  The railroad ran through a copse of woods before coming out toward Fredericksburg.  Lieut. Pettigrew was on the right and a few of the company following him went through those woods.  I think I can give the names of those with him:  Jake Sykes, Clay Williams, Ben Williams, Tobe Goodbread, and the writer.  There may have been others but I fail to remember now.  As we passed through and came upon the open plain, the battlefield in all its terrible grandeur broke in view upon us.  Thirty pieces of Federal artillery were hurling shot, shell, canister and grape on their mission of death, while there was one incessant crash of musketry.
            It seemed that all the demours of the lower regions were there riding in high carnival on the warring passions of men, gleating, gibering, and laughting in fiendish delight over the harvest of death.
            Yet there stood Pettigrew, calm, tall and commanding, his sword pointing toward the artillery, saying “Boys, forward and take those batteries!”  About twenty paces in front there was a ditch and he jumped across.  I saw him sway a moment, then settle down on his right knee, then on his elbows with his sword still grasped in his hand.  Running up I asked, “Lieutenant, are you hurt?’  “yes, but don’t’ mind me, go on and take those batteries!”  It was his last command.
            In my next I shall let the old news-paper clippings, old faded letters, which have been blurred with tears and the mists of forty-nine years, tell of his heroic death and sad burial in the city of Washington.  J.E. Dart.

The Brunswick Journal; 30 May 1911 (Extracted by John Frost Murlin)

DEATH OF LIEUTENANT PETTIGREW DESCRIBED BY COLONEL J.E. DART—History of Lieut. Pettigrew Brunswick Riflemen (Concluded).

            In my last article I said that I would let old newspaper clippings and faded letters finish his history.  Had I said I was writing as his school mate, his comrade, his kinsman, it might have been said it was from a partisan view.  J.E.D.

EXTRACT FROM ONE OF HIS LAST LETTERS

“Lynchburg, Va. Sept. 2, 1862

My dear Wife:
            Your letter was received with the deepest feelings of joy.  I have for some time been anxiously waiting to hear from the loved ones at home and that I have been permitted to persue those lines of deep affection traced by the hand of a fond and muched loved wife, I am now fully recovered, but I cannot say how long it will last; cannot say how soon I shall be able to return to my suffering family, and accept the noble offer made by my friend Mike.  I feel grateful to him for his kindness to me and mine, and should I never be able to repay him, may God reward him and vouchsafe him a long and happy life.”
            Further on he says:
            “I see the army is now at Manasas and have a terrible battle in which Ewell’s division was twice driven back with great loss, but being reinforced they charged the third time and swept the enemy from the field.  Our brigade is attached to this division.  I tremble with fear as to the result.  May God forbid that my brother could fall victim to this cruel war.”  (His brother, Moore, was killed at Turky Ridge June 1, 1864.)
            Speaking further on he writes:
            “Oh, God, what a happy hour it is for him (his brother, only 16 years old) when peace is declared he could shed tears of joy at the bare prospect of peace and a happy reunion with those dearer to me than life.  Give my love to my dear mother and tell her that I will never forget that inestimable being to whom I owe my existence, and upon my heart is indelably stamped the immage of a fond and revered mother.  Goodbye, your ever true and devoted husband.
            George W. Pettigrew.”
            Note from the battlefield:
            “The enemy has treated me kindly.  Those who will send you this will tell you where I am, if alive.  George W. Pettigrew.”
            On the back of the note:
            “Your son was sent to Washington, D.C. yesterday.  W. Pollock.”

“Washington, D.C. Jan. 3, 1863

My dear Mrs. Pettigrew:
            Being one among your late husband’s friends that attended his dying bedside, I offer you my sincere sympathy, and write a few incidents of his last moments.  I was sent for on Sunday, to go and see him, accompanied by Mrs. Wilson, who kindly wrote you of your meloncholly loss.  I sent for the Rev. Dr. Hall, formerly of Augusta, Ga. and communicated to him his dying state.  He received it with christian resignation.  The Lord’s Prayer was read for his family, then under affection he then asked that the Apostles Creed be read.  When I finished he took the book from my hand saying:  ‘I want to see those blessed words’.  Oh, Merciful God, look with pity upon you all, is the prayer of your friend.

CATHERINE CHESS OLDFIELD.”

            What Mrs. Butts writes:
            “I called to see your husband at the Patent Office Hospital, on the Sunday previous to his death and took a memorandum of what he desired me to say to you which was that he wanted his mother or wife, one or both, to come to see him.  He was wounded in the left knew at Fredricksburg, and I shall never forget how his countenance lighted up as I asked him at what time he was wounded and he replied ‘I was wounded on Saturday about three o’clock, while making a charge on the enemies batteries.’
            (did I uote history in my first article?)
            He had every attention from kind ladies that could properly be given him.  I regret that the lock of hair was taken out by the Federal officer who examined the letter.
            Comment is not necessary on this incident, save he belonged not to those high toned christian soldiers who wore the blue like our honored fellow citizens, Maj. Downing, Goodyear, Dunn and others.  They would not have deprived a grey haired old mother and sorrowing wife the sad sweet privilege of moistening with tears that harmless token, a tress of hair from that brave boy’s brow.”
            What the Washington papers said:
            BURIAL OF A REBEL OFFICER—The funeral of Major Geo. W. Pettigrew who was wounded at Fredericksburg and taken a prisoner took place from Masonic hall this afternoon and was attended by a large number of Masons, who followed his remains to the Congressional cemetery and was buried in the lot belonging to the Grand Lodge.
            He was a relative of a distinguished lawyer of that name of Charleston, S.C.
            In the battle of Fredericksburg he was wounded in the knee.  He was brought to this city and taken to the Patent Office Hospital on Wednesday last, but steadily refused to allow his wound to be dressed until all the wounded, who had come up at the same time, had been attended to and when his case came it was found that modification had taken place, which resulted in his death Monday night.  On Sunday finding that there was no hope of his recovery he made himself known as a Mason to the surgeon in charge, and asked that the fact should be made known to some of the Masons in Washington.
            Grand Master Stansburg was at once informed and hastened to his bedside.  A will was drawn leaving his property to his mother, wife and children, about whom he seemed to be mostly concerned.  He also requested that the Masonic fraternities would take charge of his body and it be buried with the usual honors.
            After his death, which took place Monday night, his remains were placed in a handsome mahogany casket and laid in state at Masonic hall and this afternoon the services of the Episcopal church, of which he was a member, was conducted by Rev. Dr. McCurdy of Kentucky.  The Masonic services at the grave were conducted by Grand Master and Lecturer E.L. Stevens.
            Extract from another Washington paper:
            The death of Major Pettigrew was caused by the mortification of the wound, which resulted from his persistent refusal to have his wounds dressed until after all of our wounded men were attended to—not his comrades in gray, but his late foes upon the field of battle.
            Let song and story tell of Leonidas and his Spartan band.  Let poets sing of the charge of the light brigade at Balaclava; let Phillips in the House of Lords, speaking of Napoleon’s death, say “he was the greatest man that, in the annals of the world ever rose, reigned or fell.
            Let marble shafts rear high their heads to commemorate the heroism of men; let golden medals be pinned upon their breast for noble deeds, but here was a Brunswick boy seeking no fame or reward, forgetting mother, wife, and prattling babes, reaching out in that broad field of suffering humanity, though they were his foes.
            With that charity extending beyond the grave, knowing that every hour his chances of life were growing less and less, saying:  ‘Don’t mind me or my sufferings, help the other suffers, they are no longer foes, but belong to that great world of humanity and died that others might live.’”
            Some years ago I was on my way to Washington when near Hamilton’s Crossing an accident occurred to the engine.  The conductor said it would require an hour for repairs.  It was late in the evening, the sun was sinking behind the western hills.  I knew where I saw him last, with sword grasped in hand.  There was the same ditch but the ploughshare had been there.  Fields of grain were waving with the autumn winds, a stray sunbeam rested for a moment, then faded away.  In the gathering twilight all was so calm, so still, so peaceful.  No sound was heard, save the distinct song of the reapers, gathering the golden harvest.
            The shrill whistle of the engine recalled me, “and night closed as I went.”  J.E. DART.

The Macon Daily Telegraph (Macon, GA); Friday 17 October 1913; pg. 8 col. 3

BRUNSWICK PILOTS ARE FINED OR SUSPENDED—G.A. Manoe and E.S. Tabbott Are Given Their Preference of Paying $100 or Suspension Several Months.

            BRUNSWICK, Oct. 16.—The Brunswick commissioners of pilotage held a meeting yesterday morning for the purpose of taking up charges preferred against two of the local pilots, G.A. Manoe and E.S. Tabbott.  Both of these pilots were charged with misconduct.  Evidence in their cases was heard and both of them were convicted.
            Manoe was given the option of a six months’ suspension or a fine of $100, and Tabbott was given a find of $100 or four months’ suspension, the suspension in each case to stand until the fines are paid.  It was stated by the commissioners that the charges warranted severe action and that the light fines were given more in the nature of a warning, being the first charges brought before the board as now constituted.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 19 November 1914; pg. 2 col. 6

MRS. LUCY C. CARNEGIE VERY ILL AT DUNGENESS

            Jacksonville, Fla., November 18.--Mrs. Lucy C. Carnegie is reported to be seriously ill at Dungeness, Andrew Carnegie's winter home near Fernandina.  Andrew Carnegie II, her son, and other relatives reached Fernandina from New York by special train early today.  Mrs. Carnegie is the mother of Thomas Morrison Carnegie of New York, a trustee of the Carnegie Foundation.

The Atlanta Constitution; Thursday 7 January 1915; pg. 1 col. 1

SIX BELIEVE DROWNED—No Hope for Crew of Brunswick Tug.

            Brunswick, Ga., January 6—Hope for the safety of any of the six members of the crew of the tug Rambler, wrecked off Cumberland island near here Monday during a heavy sea, were abandoned tonight.
            The bodies of the two negro crew members were found on the beach today, together with portions of the clothing of the four white men.  Wreckage was strewn for two miles along the coast.
            The Rambler was wrecked after going aground and while the crew was waiting for high tide to float the vessel.
            The missing and dead include Harry Ingram, captain; Carlos U. Dart, engineer; George Bell, fireman; Charles Segui, fisherman; Henry Roberts, negro deck hand, and Dave Smith, negro cook.

The Savannah Tribune (Chatham Co., GA); Saturday 17 June 1916; pg. 4 col. 2

            Brunswick is being well represented in the northern states these days with a large number that is already there, yet there are a few more to go.  Miss Leola Menidy, Miss Ellen Dennis, Miss Sally Ried and Mrs. Eldora Floyd will leave Friday for points in the north.

            Miss Leola Buggs is spending her vacation with her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Adolphus C. Buggs.  Miss Buggs is one of the teachers of Coleman Institute at Gisbland, La.  She reports having had much success her first year in teaching music.  Miss Buggs is a graduate of Fisk University.

            The closing exercise of Risley school last Friday night was excellent from every point of view.  The teachers deserve much credit.  Notwithstanding the number of hours each teacher is engaged in her duties each participant displayed well his part.  Since the leaving of Prof. Whithead as principal, the work has been entirely in the hands of Miss C.I. McIntyre.  There ought to be ome [sic] request made to the board of education by the colored citizens of Brunswick in reference to our public school system, for conditions are bad.  To search the record of Risley one would find that the board has not done one thing for the colored people but remodeled and painted what was given by northern philanthropists.  There are as many colored children as white and only one school for them.  The grand jury recommends but the recommendations fail to materialize.

The Savannah Morning News; Sunday 6 June 1920; pg. 4 cols. 1-3

TUG CAPTAIN’S BODY FOUND IN CREEK—MISSING SEVERAL MONTHS—No Trace of Bodies of Mr. Jouett and Miss Fitch.

            Brunswick, Ga., June 5—Neither the body of E.H. Jouett of Atlanta, or Miss Marguerite Fitch of Savannah, who were drowned on St. Simon[s] Island last Sunday, has as yet been recovered, although a constant search has been kept on all of the nearby beaches for the bodies.  A reward has been offered by relatives for their recovery.  What was thought to be the body of the drowned man was picked up yesterday in a small creek off Jekyl Island by a negro fisherman, but after an investigation it developed that the body found was that of Capt. Chadwick of the ill-fated tug Fortune, wrecked off Jekyl island some three or four months ago.
            The negro fisherman was passing through the creek in his small prawn boat when he noticed the body.  He at once came to the shore and reported what he had found to Coroner Jennings, who instructed the negro to at once bring the body to the city.  It was naturally believed that the body was that of Mr. Jouett, but after it reached the city it was discovered that it was unquestionably that of one of the missing men from the tug, as some half a dozen drowned when the boat went down have never been accounted for.  Although the body had been in the water for a long time, the face was in a splendid state of preservation, but other portions of the body were badly mutilated.  But little flesh remained on the bones.  It is believed, from the condition of the body, that the head had been buried in the mud, probably since the drowning, and that it was floated by the high tides recently.
            The coroner at once notified the owners of the ill-fated tug, and the body is being held pending instruction from the company.  In the meantime every effort is being made to locate the bodies of the unfortunate couple who met with such a horrible accident on the island Sunday, when they both were drowned, the young lady losing her life in an effort to save her companion.  They had both been thrown from a small canoe, in which they, with others, had been paddling around the surf, when the boat was suddenly overturned.  Being an expert swimmer, Miss Fitch attempted to save Mr. Jouett, but the strong tide was more than she could withstand, and they both went down as other people on the beach were making every effort to reach them.

The Savannah Tribune (Chatham Co., GA); Saturday 25 June 1921; pg. 2 col. 2

            Mrs. Madison Scarlett and her daughter, Miss Annie M. Scarlett left Washington last week to spend some time with her son, Geo. Scarlett, who is practicing law in that city.  Miss Scarlett is a recent graduate of Howard University.  They will return next month.

            The engagement of Prof. S.C. Mitchell, principal of Selden Institute to Miss Ella McLeod is announced.  Their wedding will take place June 29, 9 o’clock at the Presbyterian church, Cordele, Ga.  Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell will be at home Selden Institute, Brunswick, Ga., after July 1.

The Atlanta Constitution; Sunday 17 June 1923

Pg. 1K col. 2

MISS MORGAN WEDS FRANK SCARLETT

            Washington, June 16—The marriage of Miss Mary Louise Morgan, of Pen-Argyl, Pa., and Frank M. Scarlett, of Brunswick, Ga., took place Friday afternoon at 2 o’clock at the First Presbyterian church.  The pastor, Dr. John Britton Clark, performed the ceremony.  The only witnesses was Cranston Williams, secretary to Senator William J. Harris.  No announcement had been made of the engagement.
            Miss Morgan resided in Washington several years while in the government service, but returned to her Pennsylvania home two years ago.  Mr. Scarlett is solicitor of the city court of Brunswick and one of the prominent young attorneys of the state.  He was active in the recent gubernatorial race as a supporter of Governor Clifford Walker, and was appointed as solicitor by Governor Dorsey.
            Mr. and Mrs. Scarlett are at the Hotel Raleigh until they leave for Asheville, N.C. Saturday.  After several days in North Carolina they will go by automobile to Brunswick.

The Amarillo Globe (Amarillo, Texas); Friday 21 December 1928; pg. 2 col. 1

            At Brunswick, Georgia, Walter Rawlins, in prison, saw his wife whose complaint had jailed him for wife-beating.  He seized a carving knife, dashed from the prison, overtook his wife, stabbed her several times.  His excuse is “I loved my wife so, that I would rather see her dead than with somebody else.”

The Albuquerque Journal (Albuquerque, New Mexico); Friday 8 February 1935; pg. 2 col. 5

CHAUFFEUR ELOPER IS LIBERATED—Judge Says Theft Charge Is Only Family Affair

            ROCKVILLE, Md., Feb. 7 (AP)—George Scarlett, the chauffeur who eloped with the daughter of the family he worked for, faced his socially prominent mother-in-law’s charge of theft in Police Court Thursday and a few moments later walked out a free man.
            After listening to Mrs. Howard de Walden Cooke of fashionable Chevy Chase, accuse Scarlett of running away with both her 20-year-old daughter, Jane, and $5000 worth of her jewels, Police Judge Donald A. de Lashmutt dismissed the warrant, saying:
            “This case is evidently a family affair.  The veracity of the prosecuting witness, who charges her son-in-law with the theft of her jewelry, is equal to the denial of the defendant.”
            The judge pointed out that neither the bride’s father, who is reported to have welcomed the erstwhile chauffeur into the family, nor her elder sister, Anna, was willing to appear against Scarlett or to corroborate the mother’s story.
            The story of the marriage of the couple, as disclosed, was that they slipped off to Washington and were married two weeks ago after Scarlett was given 30 cents and some time off by Mrs. Cooke to get lunch.  This was a reward, according to testimony, for his extra work of shoveling snow in the Cooke back yard.

The Albuquerque Journal (Albuquerque, New Mexico); Sunday 6 October 1935; pg. 10 Magazine Section

[Photos of the family with whole page article—ALH]

A Love-Lorn Chauffeur’s $100,00 Bill for Steering a Debbie to the Altar—The Elopement Ended in a Cell—for Him—and Seclusion—for Her; Now He Cries “Persecution” While His Bride Says:  “He’s Unchivalrous!”

            Glamorous and romantic Jane Cooke, the “Little Miss Muffet” of the Chevy Chase, Md., debutante set, after all these months has blasted her “upstairs and downstairs” romance with her “Admirable Crichton” chauffeur-lover, George Stanton Scarlette 3rd, by coming right out in public and saying that she is through with George because “it was unchivalrous of him” to bring a $100,000 damage suit against her mother.  George is suing Mrs. Howard de Walden Cooke, Washington, D.C., social arbiter, for false arrest.
            Just like the characters in Sir James Barrie’s inspired play, Jane—she’s the daughter of the fabulously wealthy Cookes reared and educated in the cloistered confines of Holy Cross Convent and only lately introduced to society—fell head over heels in love with the attractive and personable Scarlett.  He’s the handsome son of railroad detective, and he had entered the Cooke household as a servant.  Pretty Jane eloped with him to Washington, where they were married in true Lochinvar last January, with Jane’s approving sister, Anne, acting as bridesmaid.
            Everyone was thrilled over the story-book elopement.  Howard de Walden Cooke, 78-year-old father of the 19-year-old runaway bride, beamed on the romantic pair.  Jane’s condescending aunt, the socially prominent Mrs. John Madigan, nodded approval and wished the newlyweds happiness.  But as to Mrs. Cooke, Jane’s mother—
            “He’s a fugitive and I want him arrested!” she telephoned police in Savannah, Ga., where the newlyweds with sister Anne chaperoning, stopped for the night.  “He carried away diamonds I gave to him to take to the jewelers, and he has both the family cars and two of the family pet dogs.”
            So, on the strength of a warrant taken out in Rockville, Md., George was torn from the side of his bride and kept in jail in Savannah several days.  He waived extradition and was taken to Rockville for a hearing.  Jane’s father frowned on the whole unsavory business.  He really liked his 20-year-old chauffeur son-in-law, and his daughter Jane was his pet and he wanted her to be happy.  Besides, Papa Cooke had observed his younger daughter’s conduct on horseback and in the drawing room, and trusted her judgment.  Papa didn’t bother about warrants.
            Finally, after he had spent eighteen hideous days in the several hoosegows, Scarlette was exonerated of the charge of theft.  It appears that either Mrs. Cooke relented or that very essential factor, evidence of guilt, was lacking.  At any rate, George was liberated, but there were more thorns in his path.
            Jane was missing.  He was frantic until he learned that his bride had gone to the home of her aunt, Mrs. John Madigan, in Belfast, Maine.  What messages passed between them, what pleas and deelings[?], invitations and “regrets,” none may know—for, of course, the principals in the furloughed romance didn’t tell.  All anyone really could know was this.  Jane and her handsome chauffeur-bridegroom WEREN’T living together.
            It may be inferred that young George fretted, chafed and—remembered.  Finally he did something Crichton, in the play, would have never dreamed of doing.  He consulted a lawyer and announced that he was going to sue his mama-in-law for $100,00 damages, or approximately $5,550 an hour for every hour he’d spent in jail.
            The suit was filed, and by filing it, George just blasted himself right out of the marriage picture, if he hadn’t done so before.  He was no longer the “Admirable Crichton” in the eyes of the Cooke family or those of the Chevy Chase set who might, in time, have been willing to accept him as the son-in-law of Howard de Walden Cooke.  When Mrs. Cooke was served with the papers in the damage suit she called him an “intriguing adventurer,” and announced at the same time that her daughter Jane would prosecute and annulment suit against her chauffeur-husband on the ground that he’d become very dramatic and induced the girl to marry him by dire prophecies as to what would happen if she didn’t.
            “My love for him is dead,” Jane declared.  “He can go back to his family.  I have decided that the Cooke family and the Scarlett family can never mix.”
            And she filed her annulment suit, still pending at this writing.  Thus ended another attempt of “upstairs and downstairs” to meet on common romantic ground in accordance with Sir James M. Barrie’s theme of the servant who fell in love with the millionaire’s daughter.
            It was in the summer of 1934 when the wealthy Howard de Walden Cooke, retired businessman, took young Scarlette, who was then 20, into his household as chauffeur and valet.  Everyone in the Cooke household was happy.  Scarlette was handsome, pleasing in his manners and willingly helpful.  He became the all-around handy man and valet to Mr. Cooke, and was unfailingly courteous and obliging to Mrs. Cooke and her two lovely daughters, Anne, 20, and Jane, 19.
            “We do not look upon George as a hired hand,” Mr. Cooke boated whenever he had the chance to speak of his admirable chauffeur.  “He is like one of the household.  We think the world and all of him and trust him implicitly.”
            Of course, he had no idea that Scarlette’s advent into the family circle would culminate in a romance with one of his own daughters.  Thus, it made little difference to the Cookes whether or not he was the scion of a prominent North Carolina family, as a good many people supposed, or just merely the son of a humble, hard-working southern railway detective.
            Scarlette was handsome.  That couldn’t be denied him.  And he had excelled in athletics when he was a student at Winston-Salem High School.  In his conversations with members of the Cooke family, George let it be known that he had left a good job with the railroad in Winston-Salem, and could return to the job whenever he wanted to.
            The lovely Cooke girls, Anne and Jane, were educated at such fashionable schools as Holy Cross Convent and National Cathedral School.  They were allowed to have a few friends, but never were they allowed to have engagements with boys.  Jane was a sort of “Little Miss Muffett” to her friends because of the restricted life she led.  They were fun-loving girls, though, and got a tremendous kick out of it when the handsome chauffeur drove them to visit their aunt, Mrs. Madigan, who lives in Washington.  Mrs. Madigan, it appears, was more lenient and romantic than her sister, Mrs. Cooke, and allowed the girls a bit more latitude on their visits.
            It was while the girls were visiting their aunt in Washington that it was discovered that Jane had suddenly developed an interest in something.  That something, it later developed, was the handsome, stalwart chauffeur who had made himself such a valuable part of the family retinue.
            Then came the day when Jane and George eloped.  All Chevy Chase thrilled to the romantic affair.  Sister Anne, who knew all along about the budding love of her sister and the chauffeur, acted as stage manager for the elopement, saw the wedding through and accompanied the newlyweds to Brunswick, Ga.  There she suddenly came face to face with the realization that two is company and three is a crowd.  So she returned home.
            Anne, by the way, was herself married the other day to Captain Thomas Hay Nixon, Washington Army officer, divorced form his first wife, Annette Pauline Nixon.  It was a surprise wedding.  The couple went to Belfast, Maine, to have the ceremony performed.  But to return to Jane’s elopement.
            Jane’s mother stormed when she tot a telegram from her daughters in Charlotte, N.C.  The wire read:
            “Decided to go South.  Everything is all right.  Please do not worry.  Love Jane and Anne.”
            Jane and her chauffeur-husband were having a lovely time as long as George’s $38 and Jane’s $20 lasted.  They were making a toast to their “Dutch Treat” honeymoon, in Savannah, at the moment the sheriff arrived with the warrant for Scarlette’s arrest.
            Jane remained in Savannah only a short time after her bridegroom was torn from her.  When she arrived at her home in Chevy Chase she found her mother in an unforgiving mood, but her aunt, Mrs. Madigan, received Jane with open arms and with the announcement that she would entertain the young couple at her home until such time as her sister would relent.
            Forgiveness, it seems, hovered elusively in the background for some weeks, or even months.  Then its shy apparition fled; finally Scarlette drove it away for good by announcing that he would sue his mother-in-law for damages.
            “It is the most unchivalrous thing for him to do,” snapped his disillusioned heiress bride.  “I could forgive anything but that.  I’m through with him.  He can go back home.”
            On Scarlette’s side, it’s obvious that 18 days in jail plus the loss of a lovely bud you’ve just made your bride is rather tough.  Sentimental person still may speculate whether Jane would have changed her mind some day and the romance would have ended in true Barrie fashion had the love-lorn chauffeur not sent to his mama-in-law a $100,000 bill for steering her debbie daughter into marriage.

The Albuquerque Journal (Albuquerque, New Mexico); Sunday 5 July 1936; pg. 10 Magazine Section

Another Marital Cropper for Chevy Chase’s Fox-Hunting Debs—After Stage-Managing Her Younger Sister’s Elopement with the Family Chauffeur, Dashing Anne Has Troubles of Her Own.

[Photos of the family with whole page article—ALH]

            The socially-minded, precise dowagers and debbies of aristocratic Chevy Chase, Maryland, are all a-dither.  Telephones are ringing, conferences are buzzing, hunting activities are almost suspended.  Perplexity rules the drawing-rooms and the riding clubs.
            Each member of the “horsey” set is worried about a stupendous problem that faces every swanky hostess in the exclusive Washington, D.C., suburb.
            Is blueblooded Anne Cooke Nixon a wife, or is she not?  Shall she be received as the wife of Captain Thomas Hay Nixon of the Ordnance Bureau, United States Army, or shall she be ignored?  So run the everlasting queries.  Up to the present, animated lingual activity hasn’t solved the dowagers’ and debbies’ awful dilemma.
            The basis for all the excitement is a ruling handed down by a Pennsylvania Court the other day—a ruling that makes the marriage of socially prominent Anne to dashing Captain Nixon void, in that State at least.
            The army officer’s second wife, Annette Finneron Cooke, ex-“George White Scandals” girl, instigated the complaint that placed Mrs. Nixon, 3rd—and Chevy Chase hostesses—in such an unhappy spot.  The showgirl asked the court to set aside Nixon’s divorce from her—and her request was granted!
            And this seriously complicated matters for fox-hunting Anne, for two children have already been born to her union with Captain Nixon!  While the decision stands, the children will legally be without names, in Pennsylvania at any rate.
            And the austere, correct Mrs. Howard de Walden Cooke, Anne’s wealthy mother—what will she do now?  Last time Mrs. Cooke went into action, when her younger daughter Jane was embroiled in a marital mix-up, the results were emphatic.  Sparks, remarks and bits of broken hearts flew all over the Maryland landscape.
            The blueblooded matron has had her hands full with the marital peccadilloes—and “croppers”—of her two attractive equestrienne daughters, during the past year.  And this in spite of her many precautions that Anne and her younger sister, Jane, should marry well and take their rightful place in society.
            It’s all been quite a blow to Mrs. Cooke, for she had sent her fox-hunting debbie daughters to fashionable and exclusive schools; their comings and goings were carefully supervised, even drastically restricted, for fear of improper associations, and unchaperoned “dates” were completely out.
            And maybe that’s why 19-year-old Jane eloped with the handsome, nearest[?] hand George Stuanton Scarlett, shortly after he had been hired by her late father to act as a chauffeur-valet and handy-man!
            Apparently Scarlett’s “handiness” wasn’t confined to just small jobs about the garage.  In a short time he won his way into the confidence of the family to such an extent that Cooke said to friends “We do not look upon George as a hired hand.  He is like one of the household.  We think the world of him and trust him implicitly.”
            The fun-loving, carefully watched girls got a tremendous kick out of going for rides in the Cooke limousine with George, and in paying visits “below stairs” to the servants’ quarters, where they were wont to smoke a hurried cigarette while the chauffeur kept his eye peeled for strict Mama Cooke.
            Jane and George began to pay a lot of attention to one another.  Before long the watchful eye of the society dowager noted the “love in bloom” and bundled Jane off on a trip south.  But absence made the young hearts grow fonder.  Endearing letters passed between George and Jane.
            Some time later, when the younger Cooke sister returned, George proposed.  The happy couple told Anne of their plans for an elopement.  Anne agreed it was a swell idea—so good, that she proceeded to “stage manage” the romantic runaway.
            With the family car, the family jewels, two pedigreed dogs, $38 belonging to Scarlett and $20 to Jane, the trio drove to Washington, where the ceremony was performed.  It was so much fun, Anne decided to accompany the youngsters on their honeymoon.
            Within a short time the horse-minded Chevy Chasers heard of the “upstairs and downstairs” elopement.  Everyone was thrilled—that is, except irate Mrs. Cooke.  She sent out a police alarm for her missing daughters and possessions!
            A few days later, in Savannah, Georgia, the Cooke care was completely demolished at a railway crossing.  The occupants escaped unhurt, but the well bred dogs, annoyed at the irregular proceedings, disappeared.
            Outraged Mrs. Cooke swore out a warrant for Scarlett’s arrest.  “He is a fugitive and I want him arrested,” strongly declared the mother.  She accused the chauffeur of absconding with the family jewels.
            Jane returned tearfully to Chevy Chase while George remained behind Savannah bars.  Upon his return, the young husband was exonerated of the theft charges.  Meanwhile, his bride was missing.  She had been sent off to an aunt in Maine.
            The runaway romance blew up when George filed a $100,000 damage suit against his stern mother-in-law.  Jane indignantly announced:  “It’s the most unchivalrous thing for him to do.  I’m through with him.  He can go back home.”  Mrs. Cooke agreed, labeling the chauffeur “an intriguing adventurer.”  Jane filed an annulment suit, which was dismissed, and immediately after, filed suit for a limited divorce, which was granted not long ago.
            So the Cooke household—and Chevy Chase—settled down to nothing more exciting than the usual run of parties and punts afield.  But not for long.
            Sister Anne, who knew a lot about elopements, decided to stage one for herself!  Her choice for a husband was dashing, worldly-wise Captain Thomas Hay Nixon, a handsome army man who had already been married twice.  His fist wife had been a beauty from Georgia, and his second lovely Annette Finnaron, a “Scandals” girl of some years back.
            During her vacation in Maine, pretty Anne and the romantic Captain were married.  Just four days had elapsed since he had received his divorce form showgirl Annette.
            But Captain Nixon seemed to have forgotten something and Wife No. 2 was extremely annoyed.  According to Annette, Nixon hadn’t told her of the divorce; she declared that knowledge of the split-up first reached her when she read of his third jump into the matrimonial swim with Anne.
            Annette didn’t mind not being invited to the Captain’s third marriage, but she did object strenuously to not having been invited to her divorce.  Having had court experience before, when she had charged the jaunty officer with inadequate maintenance and, on another occasion with cruelty, the showgirl decided that everything wasn’t “according to Hoyle”—or legal procedure.  So she proceeded to petition that Nixon’s Gettysburg, Pennsylvania divorce be declared invalid, even though this would invalidate his ensuing marriage to Anne!
            Annette asked for dismissal of the divorce on grounds that the Captain was not genuinely a legal resident of the Quaker state.  It was the same plea that has knocked out so many Reno divorces of late—and it worked!  In a twenty-nine page opinion, presiding judge declared the divorce invalid.  The justice held that residence is a “physical fact” and that more possessions in a home (Nixon’s mother’s house) was not proof of residence.
            The handsome officer, and Anne, were stunned by the decisions.  “I have always considered Gettysburg my home,” the Captain said, “for since I have been in the army I have had to move around too much to establish permanent residence elsewhere.”
            And the next thing you know, Annette Finnaron Nixon filed suit for absolute divorce on grounds of cruelty—and named Anne Cooke Nixon as correspondent!  Then followed a merry game of hide-and-seek, as blueblooded Anne sought to evade process servers.  Perhaps she felt like the fox she had so often pursued.  Finally, she accepted the papers.
            But to make the muddle more mixed-up than ever, along came twins!  Their birth was all that was needed to make the socialites forget their teas and horses.
            Dear, oh, dear—this was so terribly, terribly interesting!  Why—what was lovely Anne going to do?  And the highly correct Mrs. Cooke—how would she establish the legality of her daughter’s marriage and the parentage of her tiny grandchildren?
            Plainly worried, Anne still clings to the belief that everything will come out all right.  “It is all a terrible mistake!” she cries.
            Meanwhile, Chevy-Chasers have stopped chasing the fox and are waiting for Annette Finnaron Nixon’s divorce trial to come up.  And swanky mothers with pretty daughters of their own aren’t letting them out of their sight!

The Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York); Sunday 30 October 1938; pg. 7A col. 1

NEGRO WHO ADMITTED SLAYING AGED CLERIC NOW DENIES CRIME

            Brunswick, Ga., Oct. 29 (UP)—George Cleyborn, Negro held for the murder of the Rev. Dr. Charles H. Lee, 71, tonight repudiated his confession which had resulted in the arrest of three other men.
            Cleyborn had stated that he and another Negro, Willie Green, had been hired for $150 by Henry J. and W.H. Cofer, resort operators on St. Simons Island, to kill the aged cleric because of his outspoken attacks against vice conditions on the island.
            George Cowart, attorney representing the accused Negro, took Solicitor W. Ben Gibbs to the Wayne County jail at Jesup late today and Cleyborn changed his story.
            The Negro said that he made the confession because he was “scared” and that he was not involved in the killing.
            Authorities said the murder charges against the Cofer brothers and the Negroes would hold, but that a new investigation would be made at once.

The Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York); Monday 23 January 1939; pg. 17 col. 5

NEGRO IS CONVICTED OF SLAYING RECTOR; 2 OTHERS FACE TRIAL

            Brunswick, Ga., Jan. 23 (AP)—George Cleyborn, 25-year-old Negro, faced life imprisonment today for the midnight assassination of Dr. Charles H. Lee, aged Episcopal rector.
            A Glynn County Superior Court jury convicted the tall Negro of first degree murder yesterday, with a recommendation of mercy.  During the four-day trial he denied any knowledge of the minister’s slaying.
            W.H. Cofer and H.J. Cofer, white brothers also indicted on murder charges, probably will not go on trial until the May term of court.  The two resort operators and the Negro were charged with shooting the 71-year-old rector through a window while he was preparing a sermon in the rectory of Christ Church on St. Simons Island last Feb. 5.
            Defense attorneys said they would file a motion for a new trial.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California); Wednesday 28 May 1941; pg. 25D col. 5

MARRIAGE IS SET FOR SATURDAY—Miss D’Arcy Dieckmann To Wed John Landon At Simple Ceremony—by Suzette

            Miss D’Arcy Frederica Dieckmann of Berkeley telephoned to friends, Monday afternoon, telling them of her engagement to John Edwin Landon, San Francisco attorney.  Miss Dieckmann is the daughter of the late Frederic T. Dieckmann and of Mrs. Dieckmann of Berkeley.
            The wedding ceremony, which will be read by the Reverend Laurence Cross, pastor of the Northbrae Community Church in the presence of the two families, at 1 o’clock Saturday afternoon, will be simple in appointment.  The bride will be [missing].

FROM OLD FAMILY

            Miss Dieckmann, a member of one of the older families in Bay society, is a granddaughter of the late Dr. and Mrs. Daniel Hopps of Piedmont and of the late Joseph Henry Dieckmann at one time United States consul-general to Mexico.  She is a niece of the Misses Marie and Anita Dieckmann of Oakland.
            Landon is a son of Col. Edwin Landon, U.S.A. retired, a former professor of political science at the University of California, now residing at Monterey.

U.C. GRADUATE

            The future bridegroom, a graduate of the University of California school of jurisprudence, is practicing law in San Francisco.  The home of the young couple will be established in Berkeley.
            George MacQueen Landon of Detroit is a brother of the benedict-elect, and Mrs. Charles Vincent Litton, of Redwood City, his sister.  Litton will serve as best man for his brother-in-law.
            Miss Dieckmann is a student of art and attended the California College of Arts and Crafts.  She is a graduate of Miss Horton’s.

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