CHAPTER I. "And God said, Let there be light; and there was light." I AM the son of Augustus Howard, of Sandersville, Ga., and Martha, daughter of Gen. Ezekiel and Mary Wimberly, of Twiggs County, Ga. I was born in Houston County, Ga., January 11, 1834. In 1836 my father moved to the home of my grandmother, now known as the Garrard home, in Wynnton, a suburb of Columbus, Ga. In this house, when I was three years old, the fond recollections of the handsome face and majestic form of my father and the hallowed memory of my beautiful mother had their birth, and were I an artist I could to-day, from these blessed, fadeless memories, paint true to life the portrait of each; and here began a life which from that day to this has had its full share of sunshine and storm, of joy and sorrow, of sweet and bitter; subject to all the frailties and imperfections, the same impulses for good and evil to which humanity is heir. I have known many better by nature and practice than I have been; I have known many no better than my long life has proven and some not as good. I have ever implicitly believed in and taken sweet comfort and consolation in adversity, burdens and cares in "Thy will, O God; not mine, be done." I still most vividly remember the very first Sabbath school I ever attended when the teacher read the Beatitudes from Matthew v, and "Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God" impressed me at the time deeply indeed. When my father moved to Columbus there were many Creek Indians in Russell County, Ala., who soon became hostile and killed many men, women, and children. There were seven of them tried for murder in Girard just across the Chattahoochee River and hung at the same time from the same gallows. On ascending the scaffold each one was asked if he had ever done anything for which he was sorry; six answered no; the other said he killed an entire family the last one of which was a babe he took from its cradle and dashed its brains out against a tree; he said he took the baby in his arms, it smiled in his face; for this he was sorry and for nothing else. As the trap was sprung they gave the terrible Indian war whoop. Soon after this the tribe was removed by the United States Government to the far West, and in 1906 and 1907 I saw many Creek Indians in Indian Territory. In 1838 my father moved into the home he had completed in Wynnton, now owned by Robert Carter. I started to school in 1839 to a Yankee schoolmarm near our home, Miss Lee (afterwards Mrs. Wayland) who gave me the only whipping I ever had at school. She was no kith or kindred of our immortal Robert E. Lee, and from that good day to this I have never been half way dead in love with Yankee school-marms. This school was attended mostly by girls, and the sweetest, smartest and most beautiful one of that large school afterwards became my stepmother; she was my champion then, and there dawned in my youthful heart then a love true, pure, and deep that never grew less and is to-day hallowed by sweet memories of that beautiful girl. Of the many who attended that school, all save one and myself have passed over to the great beyond. Well do I remember the political slogan of the Whig party in 1840, "Tippecanoe and Tyler too," and saw it carried at the head of a large line of enthusiastic, shouting men and boys with a coon and keg of hard cider and a new broom with which the Democratic party was swept from the political field. (My oldest brother was named John Tyler Howard.) A short time after the inauguration of President Harrison in March, 1841, the city bridge at the foot of Dillingham Street spanning the Chattahoochee River was washed away and landed in Woolfolk's Bend several miles south of the city. That event has ever been called and remembered as the Harrison Freshet. The water was eight feet deep on the first floor of the building now owned by the Muscogee Manufacturing Co., and occupied by them with their offices. At that time the building was, with the entire block, the home of James S. Calhoun and his wife, who was my aunt. |