Newton County GaArchives Obituaries.....Jones, William G. December 1, 1888
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Phyllis Thompson http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00011.html#0002524 July 17, 2005, 6:51 pm

The Georgia Enterprise, December 13, 1888
The Late W. G. Jones
     Mr. William G. Jones was born in Elbert County, Ga., Dec. 13, 1822, and 
moved to Newton County when yet a youth. He was united in marriage to Miss 
Emily F. Chafin, of Henry County, daughter of Tyre Chafin, Esq., on Dec. 21, 
1843. On December 1st, 1860, Mr. Jones moved to the plantation on which he was 
recently so brutally assassinated by an unknown party or parties. Just 28 years 
to a day, had he lived in peace with all mankind when the cruel hand of the 
murderer slew him in cold blood, for it was on Dec. 1st, 1888, when he was 
killed. Mr. Jones was the father of six children, four sons and two daughters. 
These children were the treasures of his life and he loved them and his good 
wife with a tender devotion which knew and had no change. So careful was he of 
their comfort and pleasure that he made ample provision during his life so that 
they could have a stuffiness of this world’s goods to keep them in comfortable 
and easy circumstances when he should have been called “to join his fathers.”
     On his plantation were colored men and women who had been with him as 
servants and tenants for over 20 years, and during that long period there were 
no difficulties or differences between them. The white foreman on his place, 
Mr. George Smith, had been with him about 9 years and loved the “old man” like 
a father.
     That William G. Jones had his faults no one disputes, but that he was a 
kind and generous man no one has ever yet denied. The cry of distress never 
went unheard by him. His word was his bond and he never failed to meet his 
obligations when they were due. His nature was as warm and genial as the 
southern sun under which he moved and had his being. He was true to his 
friendships and universally beloved by all his people. He was a man among men 
and rather than to do an injustice to anyone he would have had his right arm 
severed at the shoulder blade. He loved his home and the dear ones around his 
fireside, and in return he was loved and honored by each and every member of 
his family.
     That such a man should meet death alone in the forests that were his own, 
at the hands of a cowardly and brutal assassin, is beyond the comprehension of 
human imagination. He, who had never wronged a living soul, (without making 
proper amends), to die such a death is hard to understand and harder still to 
hear. But his soul has gone before that high tribunal, where no errors are made 
and where no unjust judgments are rendered. The great Lord, who created our 
departed friend, alone can judge him now, and we feel confident that He will 
find that there was more good than evil in the nature of this kind and generous 
man.
     He may not have been a pious and religious man, in the eyes of some who 
were not so good and charitable as he, but he had a big heart in his honest 
breast that always felt for another’s woe. He was a plain, practical man, who 
scorned deceit and looked with contempt upon anything bordering upon hypocrisy. 
He is gone and in his departure the county of Newton has lost one of her truest 
sons, Stansell’s district has lost a man of power and influence, and his family 
and friends have lost a wise counselor and a safe guardian of their every 
interest. To pen a tribute to the memory of William G. Jones is  no easy task, 
for it must be done in an imperfect manner, as his struggles in early life are 
not sufficiently known to the writer to give them  here, but that he was always 
sad at all times honest and industrious is a fact known to the men of his day 
and generation. He was a self-made man, the architect of his own fortunes. He 
made money and used it to promote the happiness of others. He had no 
selfishness about him. He was a man of liberal views and accorded to others all 
the privileges he claimed for himself.
     May he sleep sweetly beneath the sod, and may flowers of beauty ever 
blossom upon his grave.



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