the better classes of the white population. The jail in which this prisoner was, was about four blocks from the main part of the city. The white boys who usually follow shows and excitement, had occupied the nearest seats to the jail at an early hour, anxiously waiting to see the end of Jackson’s life. As I advanced accompanied by my guard, one of the young spectators asked with a tone of delight, “Are they going to lynch the nigger to-night?” I could but give the answer, “No.” Having instructed all concerned to show no uncivility to any person, but at the rise of war, put forth every exertion to save the life of the prisoner. Orders were given to the band to surround the prison. Just now I began to experience some of the actual “turns” of the battle-field. 300 black faces at one signal dotted in separate groups on all sides of the jail and court-house. At 9 o’clock a man of low stature passed along the main street, smoking sumptuously, with a rope which had been presented specially for the lynching of Jackson. The rope-man was so completely absorbed in the occupation, he failed to see those who had come to see justice meted out to the prisoner, who so well deserved it. Some of his constituency within the court-rooms informed him of the danger in store; he then accepted of a hard bed in the building for the night. At this crisis absolute calmness seemed to prevail which continued until between 1 and 2 a.m., when the watchmen were disturbed by the yells of intoxicated men. Noises of teams, wagons, riders on horse-back, and some “foolers,” all winding their way from country villages and bush-towns into the “big town” to kill the old “nigger.” The night policemen who finally showed some degree of courtesy to the colored band, conveyed the information to the mob that “300 black men lie in wait for you; if the mob attempts to take Jackson to-night, no small number of lives will be lost”. With this intelligence the blood-thirsty gang received orders from their captain on a sub-way bridge to “retreat until the next night.” A reporter from the leading newspaper of the city, who had taken in the general outlook of the affair, asked permission to address the colored “boys.” Receiving permission from the proper source, he then rode amid the cool headed body of men. Lighting from his horse said, “Gentlemen, I understand that you have gathered to protect Mr. Jackson. Now I wish to inform you that you need not fear any thing like a mob from any person in Decatur.” “But they are coming from the country,” came a voice from some person in the rear of the crowd. “Mr. Jackson is known here as a gentleman,” continued the speaker. “The circumstances in connection with this case I am fully acquainted with. Mr. Jackson and this woman were intimate, and some business men in town can verify the fact that Mr. Jackson gave her money two days ago. The story that Mr. Jackson was found in her room on her bed with a revolver a few evenings ago, is true.