Bartow-Floyd-Gwinnett County GaArchives News.....Characteristics of Maj. Chas. H. Smith, "Bill Arp" March 30, 1903 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ga/gafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Linda Blum-Barton http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00003.html#0000645 March 25, 2006, 2:17 pm The Weekly Constitution, Atlanta, Ga. March 30, 1903 What do his neighbors know and think of him? How does he pass away his time? What are his diversions? Has he little peculiarities and what are they? These and like questions are ones that arise in the average mind in regard to the man who has risen into general notice. Whenever one dwells int he public eye, from whatever cause, such is the world's curiosity that unless the every day personality as observed in the home and surroundings is known there is with a large mass a desire unsatisfied. Major Smith has touched upon much upon this line that has made his multitutde of readers familiar in a way with his home and family matters, but there is much left that is worth of being said and I shall in this article essay to pursue a path distinctly my own. About the home life of Major Charles H. Smith, known as Bill Arp, because of having been before the public so long as a writer under that nom de plume, there is much that is interesting. Having been his nearest neighbor (our houses front each other across the street) for fifteen years, I have had some chance to know something of him as he is at home. The scenes of his moving about the house in his shirt sleeves, "perusing," as he puts it, his garden or yard, plucking a rose, watering the grass plot or a flower bed, tying up a vine or amusing some of his grandchildren, so fond of flocking around him, are quite familiar ones to my eyes. And then to know him and his lovely family in their most hospitable home is one of the esteemed priviledges with which chance has favored me. The home fronts with a gentle slope toward sunrise touching dawn on Erwin street, one of Cartersville's prominent residence streets, and it has the appearance of a great, airy, elegant country home set down in the center of town. There are about 2 acres in the place and most of it is in the front forming an extensive lawn with a natural grove of large oaks and an occasional pine furnishing a refreshing shade in summer. The house is of the old- fashioned type, built when people regarded comfort more than style in architecture, and is sandwiched between a pretty garden plot and a large and thrifty strawberry bed. The premises as a whole bear a look grandly inviting. Major Smith is very fond of his garden, and seemingly much better from his illness, dating back to the early fall, he longs for the time to come when he can get out among his vegetables and his flowers. A trio of rustic excurters to the town were seen at the self-invited task of plucking roses, when he hastened out to assist them. "We just wanted a 'soovenire' or two," they meekly pleaded. His Own Landscape Artist. He is his own landscape artist and makes his garden a thing of beauty as well as a source of supply for the family table. A terrace of fine roses alternates with one of swift growing "Kentucky Wonders," and a bunch of lillies or tulips usually forms a head or tall piece for a lettuce bed. He prides himself on his success with vegetables and affirms he distanced all competitors in a tomato contest with neighbors last year, and his strawberries were the largest that the soil and climate can make. His energy and activity are even moving traits with his interest and as he expresses it. "When his choler begins to rise he goes into the garden or to the woodpile," and a case of rigors such as the aroma of a too earnest swine pen or some northern slander produces is escaped. Mr. Smith's home is noted for its hospitality, and every one of the large household seems to know how to deal out those dear little civilities that cost so little and which go so far to sweetening existence and make for nobler things. The big lawn carefully staked off and the full paraphernalia for tennis, the freedom of the use of which is accorded to the young people of the town at all times, attests a thoughtfulness and unselfishness that is manifested not alone in this but in many ways. Several of the daughters are accomplished musicians and like talents are noticeably developing among the the granddaughters. The two daughters who are still with the old people, Miss Marian and Mrs. Brumby, are apt as entertainers and no important function in the town is thought complete without their skill and guiding hands. Major Smith is an elder in the Presbyterian church, but his piety is not of what is known as the "straight-laced" type. He cites the fact that, having reares so large a family, and none of them bringing discredit on the name, argues conclusively that the chances for harm coming out of such innocent amusements as social card playing and dancing are too remote to bar them out when not unreasonably indulged in, and Mrs. Smith, a believer along the same line, often performs the piano for a pleasant little exhibition of the "light fantastic" by the young people. Favorite With Ministers. Major Smith seems a universal favorite among the preachers who serve the people of the town, and they often pay him visits to have some of the sunshine of his nature infused into their own lives, his rare philosophy as a burnisher of their thoughts and his reminiscences to inspire their own research. His whole life tenor is such a matter-of-fact lump of cheerfulness as to verify the saying, "Cheerfulness makes every dish a feast, and that it is which crowns a welcome." Major Smith was one of a family of ten children, his wife was one of a family of ten children, and they have a family of ten children, all living. There are twenty-one of the grandchildren. The oldest grandchild, Charles Henry Smith, is Major Smith's namesake and has the same birthday. He is with the Westinghouse engine works at Auburn, N.Y. The youngest grandchild, Charles William Young, is also his namesake. Mrs. Smith, who was originally Miss Octavia Hutchins, sister of Judge W. L. Hutchins, of Lawrenceville, is a woman of rare good sense and most impressive personality, and her will, while never obtrusive, is like the magician's wand in the house. "Now, Charlie," will put the major up to some good-natured sally and at the same time have a never doubted meaning. "Yes, I am in one corner now, my wife in the other, and the children and grandchildren are stirring around in the space between us," said the major the other day. "My wife was born the year the stars fell," with a twinkle of mischief in his eye, he continued--"they fell because she was born." And then Mrs. Smith was ready with a retort equally as bright. "We have been in three wars, you know -- the uncivil war, the Spanish war and the family war. And the last one isn't over yet." Speaking about his readiness to defend the south and his rank displeasure at any northern slur, she said, "Charlie thinks he must settle this whole business himself. He had a chance to rub it in on some northern guests we had; but those were lovely people and they found out some things they didn't know about matters down here." The truth is, those nothern guests went away charmed to the full with their southern hosts. And then, two of the major's sons have northern wives. Devoted to Home and Wife. Major Smith's devotion to his home, his wife, his children and grandchildren is something beautiful to behold. He writes a letter every week to each one of his sons, one of whom is in Rome, another in Mexico, another in new York and another in Florida. His youngest daughter, whom he has so often referred to in his letters as "Jessie," Mrs. W. W. Young, is the recipient of his constant parental offices and attentions. He will go to her home, two blocks up the street, and look after and entertain her little children after supper just to relieve her of the burden and May Lou and Caroline pulling at grandpa's coattails in the home or on a pretty day on the lawn is a common sight, and William, his namesake, the youngest, newest "apple of his eye," holds out his hands and is always ready for a leap to grandpa's arms. He fell in a ditch, the town being without street lights, one night last summer while carrying his daughter a bucket of berries. Up to his last illness he always went to the postoffice for his own mail, carrying his lantern if after night. Major Smith has no set plan for his work as a writer. He usually undertakes the task before him when the notion seizes him and can write as well with children playing about his knee or persons talking in the room as when he is alone and quiet in his library. His library consists of a thousand volumes, embracing many biographical, historical and literary works, with those of most all the poets. His favorite cyclopedia is the International, because of its absence of sectional bias. He recently carried back to an agent, waiting his decision, a set of so-called histories because he said they extolled old John Brown and belittle John O. Calhoun. He has no toleration for works that misrepresent the south, not even sanctioning editions expurgatories. Though now in his seventy-seventh year, Major Smith's mental faculties are yet intact, as his letters attest. He has been mentally as well as physically industrious, and hence his remarkable preservation. He has never invited through brain lag that intertia that is said to often end in ossification when the beginning point of old age, which Holmes puts at 45, has passed, or the German limit of physical usefulness, the pension state of 55, comes on. He is a constant reader and delights yet in the old solid works. Besides what he knows by rote, he keeps his store of knowledge refreshed from the repository of the doings of the day. His lecture trips have been opportunities improved for gathering fresh facts. Rode With "Tige" Anderson. On the line of reminiscence Major Smith is prolific. His war experience is full of vivid phases. He was a staff officer with "Tige" Anderson eighteen months, then President Davis appointed him an assistant to Judge Nesbitt, the head of a commission to try treason cases. This located him at Macon, in this state. He was thus partially instrumental in convicting three brothers from Columbus with complicity with the enemy and they were sent to jail in Savannah and turned loose by Sherman when he entered that city. He accompanied Mr. Davis during his flight from Millen to Macon, and nursed Mrs. Hayes, then a cherub of a girl, on the trip. When the approach of Wilson's raid made it too hot there he left Macon, bound for the home of his wife's father, at Lawrenceville, where Mrs. Smith was staying. In crossing Yellow river, hearing Stonewall was ahead of him, he tied the records of the treason court up with a cord, attached a rock to them, and dropped them where the rustling waters of Yellow river forever obscured them from sight. It was while, in connection with George Adair and E. Y. Clark, he was edition The Southern Confederacy at Atlanta, that he began to write the letters that first made him famous throughtout the south, of which that entitled "The Roman Runagee" was a sample. These were kept up till after the war ended. The scene of Underwood's flight, the fugitive behind a steer with a knot int he tail run through the dashboard, depicted in the following lines: "Farewell, Big John, farewell! "Tis painful to my heart To see they chances of escape With that old steer and cart." And the request to "Artemus Ward, Showman," to send "enough powder to kill a yaller stump tall dog that prowls around my premises at night" were of a tenor to cheer the southern heart, when with frayed spiritis men struggled on against the inevitable and finally the rancor of defeat was a chastising rod over proud natures. Back To His Home. In January 1865, Major Smith got back to Rome with his wife and six children, and Tip, the old family servant. He accidentally got a chance to plead for a fellow in Selma arraigned on a charge for embezzlement whom he got out of prison on a $25,000 bond pocketed a fee of $10,000, confederate money. Five thousand dollars of this he invested in cotton cards, which he packed into one side of his valise and the other $5,000 in opium. He returned as he had gone, in a hack overland, and with the addition to his Selma investments of a box of tobacco and a bolt of Roswell shirting, he took Bob Hargrove into partnership and they had the biggest stand in Rome. He practiced law in Rome with Judge Branham and also with Judge Underwood, each for a long term of years. He moved to the Fontaine farm in this county in 1877, where Nabor Freeman, a noble friend and good fellow, now passed away, figured in his letters, "Cabe" was a supply fount for his quaint philosphy. Major Smith has lived at his present home, the Shadows, for sixten years. May the experience of his remaining days be so tempered as to make applicable the lines: "Spring still makes spring in the mind When sixty years are told; Love makes anew the throbbing heart, And we are never old." 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