Death of James Kennedy

The Cartersville Express Newspaper
Cartersville, Georgia
February 27, 1880 Page 3
Transcribed and submitted by: 

Death of James Kennedy

Mr. James Kennedy died at his residence, near this place last Saturday night, about 11 o'clock, in the 47th year of his age. His body was consigned to its last resting place in "Oak Hill" cemetery at 3 o'clock last Sunday evening, amid one of the largest concourse of people ever assembled at the cemetery on a funeral occasion. He had been sick several weeks, and for the last two weeks previous to his death, but little hope of his recovery was entertained. He died of paralysis supervening upon typhoid disease. He was at the time of his death sheriff of this county, and had served in that capacity, and that of deputy sheriff for the last eight years. His official acts are above reproach-his private character is without a stain-his record as a soldier is perfect. Whether at home or abroad, in private or in public, in peace or in war, he was always the same-brave, noble and generous. As a friend he was true and faithful-as a father he was kind and affectionate, and as a husband he was loving and devoted. It may be truthfully said of him, that he had no enemies. We had known Mr. Kennedy from his boyhood, but not intimately till about eight years ago. We had learned to love him, as did every one who knew him well, and within our heart we will fondly cherish his memory.

He leaves a widow and six little children-two boys and four daughters. We know that the widowed mother's grief is all that she can bear-that it is a hard lot to be left fatherless in this cold world; but they should cast their cares on Jesus, and remember that God has promised to be a husband to the widow and a father to the fatherless, and that He will not forget his promise. May his body rest in the grave in peace, and may his soul find rest in the bosom of God.


The Cartersville Express
March 5, 1880

Page 3:

James Kennedy was born April 4, 1833 in Laurens county, S. C., and died in Bartow county at his residence near Cartersville, on the night of February 21, 1880, at half past eleven o'clock.

When he was three years of age, his father, John Kennedy, moved from his home in Laurens Co. S. C., to this county, and settled near the place where James Kennedy died. The father was a man of sterling integrity and his character was impressed in a two-fold degree upon the lives of his children by both precept and example. The early years of James Kennedy's life, after the prattle of infancy had been hushed in the buoyancy of youth, were spent in obtaining the rudiments of an education, to which, as the years rolled on, he added a stock of useful information. He grew up to be a true hearted generous young man, beloved by friends and respected by acquaintances. When the late war came on, he entered the ranks of the Confederate army and served to its close. Joining the First Georgia Cavalry, he endured all the hardships and privations of soldier life with an unmurmuring patriotism characteristic of a true hero, until at Appomattox court house he laid down his sword and turned his footsteps toward his home. When there arrived, he commenced to earn by the sweat of his brow his daily bread. With prospects blighted by the war, that strong arm which had never feared to grapple with the enemy in the battle's thickest engaged itself with the plow and hoe and work upon the old homestead farm. In October, 1866, he was married to Miss Fannie Dobbs, as the fruit of which union six children live to mourn his loss. He never followed any pursuit except farming, nor did he seek notoriety. Yet such was the confidence of the people in his worth that he was, in January 1879, elected sheriff without opposition. It was particularly in this trying office that James Kennedy exhibited a devotion to duty which could have sprung only from an honest, brave heart. His official conduct was a silent but eloquent commentary upon the character of the man-a "living epistle known and read of all men."

On the 12th day of January last he was taken with pneumonia. The attack became so violent that his life was at one time almost despaired of; but yielding to good treatment, he began to convalesce, and was at one time seemingly almost well. A relapse, however, ensued, which drifted into typhoid fever. As his symptoms became more alarming, he was, on the Wednesday before he died stricken with paralysis. From that time he never spoke. On Saturday, it became apparent that his end was nigh, and at half-past eleven o'clock that night the dread disease which had been borne with so much fortitude, struck him down, and the heart which had never known one ungenerous throb ceased its beating.

The next Sunday afternoon at half-past three o'clock, one of the largest throngs ever witnessed on a similar occasion in Cartersville, assembled at Oakland cemetery to witness the interment of his body to its last, long home. The young were there, subdued by regret at his untimely death; the middle aged, whose hearts were wrung with sorrow that their comrade in the battle of life should be stricken down in the full, fresh vigor of manhood's prime; the old, awed into mute grief over the grave of blighted promise. Jim Kennedy was an honest man. He was a man whose deeds were inspired not by selfishness, but by principle. One always knew where to find him-on the line of a brave and conscientious discharge of duty. Unostentatious in his professions, he was one of those men whose thoughts, feelings, and purposes were to be known by the deeds which they inspired. In private life, he was the warm friend, the loving father, the tender and affectionate husband. It were idle to recount his virtues: those who knew him best loved him most: but there is one trait which ought not to be left unnoticed. It is this: that he never slandered or abused; and when he could not commend, he was silent. In the light of this happy trait, one would think that the whole life of the man was built up on this broad foundation of Christian conduct: "And now abideth Faith, Hope and Charity: these three, but the greatest of these is Charity."

It is not the purpose of this poor tribute to tender consolation to the bereaved relatives. That must come from higher, Holier hands than human. The stricken household, as they gather evening after evening round the desolate hearthstone, alone know their unutterable anguish: but for them is left the sweet assurance that is by the refining influence of sorrow they are urged to lives of peace and perfect purity. ---J. W. A.


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