leaving an only daughter as the result of the marriage with Chevalier
d'Aubant. The story has been related in different forms by different
writers, and at one time was quite prevalent as a sensational romance in
the literary circles of Europe. The particulars of this rare adventure may
be found recorded in much of the literature of that period, some insisting
on its accuracy, while others deny it. Duclos, a prolific writer of
European romance, furnishes the amplest details of the affair, while such
writers as Levesque, in his Russian history; Grimm, in his correspondence,
and Voltaire, straightway repudiate the genuineness of the story on the
basis of its improbability. The incidents of the time at the Russian
court, the career of d'Aubant, and much else afford some reason for
believing that there is at bottom, some occasion for a romance so
remarkable.
Without here insisting on its genuineness, such is the story, in one of
its forms, as it has come to the present. However, this, as well as much
else, indicates how much of interesting matter lies in literary mines
unworked in connection with our primitive history. The literary spirit of
the South has never been properly encouraged by due appreciation, with the
consequence of a scant literature. The industrial spirit seized our
fathers in other years, and the fabulous fertility of our soils, the
cultivation of which beneath fervid skies, in an even climate, has largely
materialized our thought, and still does. Who now reads a book? If so,
what is the character of the book? We scan the morning daily, or read at
sleepy leisure the evening press, skim the magazines, and this usually
tells the story. From sire to son this has been the way gone for
generations. Permit the bare statement without the moralizing.
EARLIEST AMERICAN SETTLERS
In advance of the territorial construction of Alabama, this region had
been sought as a refuge by adherents of the British crown during the
stormy days of the Revolution, while others who were loyal Americans, also
came to escape the horrors of war in the Carolinas. All these filed
through the dense forests which covered the intervening distance at that
early day. Across Georgia, the most western of the thirteen colonies, they
fled, putting the Chattahoochee between them and the thunder of war, and
buried themselves in the obscurity of the Alabama forests. These forests
had remained unbroken from the beginning, now pierced here and there by
the wide beaten paths of the Indian. Several of these paths became, in
subsequent years, highways of primitive commerce, running from terminal
points hundreds of miles apart.
The Indian knew nothing of roads and bridges, his nearest approach to the
last named of these conveniences being fallen trees across the lesser
streams. Nor had he the means of constructing them, as he was dependent on
the flint implements which he rudely constructed into hatchets and wedges.
By means of these, he would fashion his light canoe from the less heavy
woods, like the cedar and birch, which were easily worked while in a green
state, but when dry became firm and light and well suited to float the
waters of the streams and bays. While in a green state, the trunks of
these trees were hollowed out with each end curved up, and the paddles
were made from slabs riven from some timbers light and strong. These
canoes served to transport them across the streams, and afforded the means
of fishing and hunting. When not in use, craft like this was secured to
trees by means of muscadine vines. These were the conditions found by the
white man when he came to invade the domain of the Indian.
With his improved implements of iron and steel trees were easily felled by
the paleface, rafts were built, bridges were constructed, and by degrees,
as the population grew, roads were opened. The refugees from the storms of
war who came about 1777, followed the Indian trails when they could, but
now and then they would have to plunge into the thick forests, pick their
way as best they could through a tangled wilderness, and pursue their
course to their destination. By immigrants like these, some of the
territory stretching from the western confine of Florida to the Tombigbee,
came to be peopled in the first years of the nineteenth century, and for
more than two decades before.
Localities in the present territory of the counties of Monroe, Clarke,
Baldwin and Washington were occupied as early as 1778. Some of the white
men in the lower part of Monroe County married Indian maidens, from which
connections came some of the families that subsequently became conspicuous
in the early annals of the state. Among such may be named the
Weatherfords, Taits, Durants, and Tunstalls. In the bloody scenes which
followed in Indian warfare, some of these espoused the cause of one race,
and some the other. Not a few of these became wealthy, according to the
estimate of the times; some were intelligent and influential, and imparted
a wholesome influence to the early society of the state.
Primitive commerce was quickened along the great beaten pathways in
consequence of the advent of the whites. These original highways extended
from the ports of Mobile and Pensacola long distances into the interior.
One of these ran from Pensacola by way of Columbus, Georgia, to Augusta,
where was intersected another, which reached to Charleston. Another ran by
way of Florence and Huntsville to Nashville, whence it extended as far
north as old Vincennes, on the Wabash. Through the ports of Mobile and
Pensacola exports were made to distant parts, as primitive craft was
always in wait for these commodities at these ports. The commodities were
brought from the interior on pack horses, or rather ponies, which
commodities consisted of indigo, rawhides, corn, cattle, tallow, tar,
pitch, bear's oil, tobacco, squared timber, myrtle wax, cedar posts and
slabs, salted wild beef, chestnuts, pecans, shingles, dried salt fish,
sassafras, sumach, wild cane, staves, heading hoops, and pelfry.
The introduction of cotton had begun long before the invention of the gin
by Eli Whitney, in 1792. The seeds were first picked from the cotton with
the fingers, which was improved later by some small machines, the
appearance of which was hailed as a great advance on previous methods, and
an early chronicler records the fact with much elation, that by means of
the method of these small French machines as much as seventy pounds of
cotton were cleared of seed in a day. The commodities already named were
transported to the sea on small, scrawny ponies, usually called "Indian
ponies," tough, and possessing a power of endurance against hardship and
fatigue that was wonderful. The cost of transportation was practically
nothing, as these animals were hobbled at noon and at night, and turned
out to graze to the full on the rank grass and native peavines, and, when
in the region of a low country, on young cane. The weight of a load was
usually one hundred and eighty pounds, one-third of which was balanced in
bundles or packs on either side, while a third was secured in the center
on the back of the animal. Ten of these ponies were assigned to a single
"drover," who walked in the rear of the drove and managed all by wild
yelling. After one or two trips over the same way, the ponies came to
learn where to stop for water and encampment. They often wore bells of
different tones, the wild clangor of which bells would fill the
surrounding forest for great distances. When loaded, the ponies would fall
into line at a given signal of the "drover," each knowing his place in the
file, and amble away with ears thrown back, going ordinarily the distance
of twenty-five miles each day. Some of the streams were fordable, while
others had to be swum by these primitive express trains. Camping places
became famous along the different routes, at which points all the droves
came to camp.
As commerce thus grew, there came anon highwaymen who would rob the droves
of their burdens. One of these robbers became as notorious as Dare Devil
Dick in English annals. His name was Hare, and Turk's Cave, in Conecuh
County, was the place for the deposit of his booty. With the years, this
obstruction was removed. By means of this traffic not a few accumulated
considerable fortunes, the traditions of whose wealth still linger in the
older regions, with many extravagant stories attending. These stories
embodied in a volume would give an idea of the ups and downs of these
early times in Alabama.
INDIAN TROUBLES
The Indian viewed with envious eye the pale-faced invader who dared to
"squat" on his dominions, for which he had slight use save for that of
hunting. The law of the untutored savage is revenge, and to the Indian
revenge means murder. The safety of the whites lay in the community of
interest and a common bond of protection. In every large settlement or
group of settlements there was built a local stockade of protection and
defense, while in a given region there was erected a large fort, to be
occupied in case of serious danger, or of general attack. Of these there
was a large number throughout the territory of Alabama. There was no basis
by which the Indian could be judged. He was a stealthy, treacherous
fellow, who was constantly lurking about the homes of the first settlers,
in order to wreak vengeance on the women and children, to massacre whom
the Indian thought would force the retirement of the men.
Among the strange incidents connected with the menacing presence of the
Indian during the primitive period of the state's history, was that of the
conduct of the horses and cows when a savage would come within easy
distance. Whether grazing or at work, these animals would instinctively
lift their heads and raise their tails, while with protruding ears they
would indicate the direction of the savage. More than that, they would
frequently give demonstration to their excitement by running here and
there, and stop only to turn their ears in the direction of the
approaching or lurking Indian. They did not see him, but by some other
means, perhaps by the keen sense of smell, they could detect the presence
of the savage, even while he was some distance away. It was thus that
these animals became danger signals which no one dared disregard. Not
infrequently a horse would stop while plowing, lift his head, snuff the
air, and give other indications of excitement, all of which would put one
duly on guard. By this infallible sign, much violence was averted and many
lives saved. The ears of the brutes became almost as valuable to these
pioneers, as the needle of the compass to the mariner, and certainly the
protruding ear was just as unerring as the pointing of the needle.
Another fact which became proverbial among the primitive settlers was,
with regard to young children, especially helpless babies, in the presence
of excitement and danger. Not infrequently mothers would have but a few
minutes in which to flee for safety to the nearest stockade, and often
they would snatch their sleeping babes from their cradles, in order to
make hasty flight, and the remarkable fact is that the little ones would
never cry. In their flight, mothers would sometimes stumble and fall with
their babes in their arms, but the little ones would still hold their
peace. These facts became proverbial among the pioneers.
The condition to which one may become inured or accustomed, was abundantly
illustrated in pioneer life. Occasional danger would have made life well
nigh unbearable, but when it was frequent, when one did not know when he
was to be pounced upon from some covert, by an Indian, it came to be a
matter of constant expectation, and was no more thought of than any other
ordinary condition of life. Of course, with danger always impending, men
went armed, and the constant expectation of attack reduced the condition
to one of the most ordinary. Men generally felt but little concern about
themselves, but they were gravely concerned about their dependable
families. These hardy men of the frontier usually became indifferent to
personal danger, which fact greatly impressed the savage. While he hated
the paleface, he dreaded to encounter him. Only under conditions of
advantage, or when so penned that there was but slight hope of escape,
would the Indian dare to engage in open fight with a white man. The skill
of the Indian was limited, while the cool calculation of the white man
would enable him the more readily to comprehend a given situation. In a
reëncounter the Indian would always act with precipitation, while the
white man would act with calculation, even under a stress of exciting
conditions. This was often illustrated in the difference of the conduct of
the two races.
One chief advantage the Indian enjoyed over the white man--he could easily
outrun him. The Indian was trained to fleetness of foot from early
childhood. He could run with bent form, faster than could the white in an
upright position.
It was almost incredible how rapidly the Indian could penetrate the
tangled underbrush in flight, or in seeking the advantage of a foe.
Athletic training was common among all the tribes. On just two things the
Indian relied, one of which was his fleetness of foot and the other his
ambuscade, unless he was forced into a condition of desperation, when he
would become the most terrible of antagonists. While the sinews of the
Indian were toughened by his mode of life, his muscles were kept in a
perfectly flexible condition. This was in part due to his constant
exposure to the open air. He slept and lived in the open. The consequence
was that the constitution of the Indian was rarely impaired by disease.
Active exercise, in which he every day indulged, the open air, simple
food, and sleeping on the hard earth, made him an athlete, and among them
there were often prodigies of strength.
The Indian spurned ease, and to him clothing was an encumbrance. It was
like a child encased in a shield. On the other hand, the white man coveted
ease. In those early days, and even for generations later, the white man
would regard a bed uncomfortable unless it was of feathers, and he would
never walk when there was a possibility of riding. In physical strength
and endurance, therefore, the Indian was the superior, while in coolness
and in calculation, and in the rapid husbanding of resource, the white man
was at an immense advantage, and this made him the dominant factor.
This last element stood the whites well in hand in their intercourse with
the Indians. Treacherous to the utmost, the Indian, in his pretensions of
friendship, came to be a study to the frontierman, and rarely was one
thrown off his guard by the pretended warning of an Indian. Oftener than
otherwise, given advice of impending danger, by an Indian, was reversed,
and savages were often intercepted in fell design by the whites, who came
readily to detect the treacherous purpose of the Indian. When suddenly
foiled, no people were more easily demoralized than were the Indians. Of
these characteristics, as frequently displayed, we shall have occasion to
take note in these sketches.
ALEXANDER McGILLIVRAY
The name of Alexander McGillivray is inseparable from the earliest annals
of Alabama history. So notorious was he, that to omit his name from the
records of the state, would be to occasion a serious gap. Though a private
citizen, McGillivray, in the sway of power, was practically a sovereign.
In the constitution of this wonderful man were extraordinary force,
comprehensive resourcefulness, unquestioned magnetism, and sinisterness of
purpose, rarely equaled. He was born to dominate, and his facility for
planning and scheming, as well as for executing, was phenomenal. Nor was
the dominion of his influence restricted to Alabama, for it extended into
Georgia and Florida, and reached even the seat of the national government,
which was at that time, seeking to stand erect in its emergence from
infantile conditions.
McGillivray was the Machiavelli of these early times. With a gaze lifted
immensely above that of his contemporaries, he planned vast designs, while
the order of mind of this remarkable man was such that, in the requisite
details of execution, he could fit and adjust conditions with a skill so
marvelous, and a precision so exact, as to be able to accomplish all to
which he set his hand.
His mind was fertile, his vision comprehensive, his judgment unerring, his
skill adroit, his cunning foxy, his facilities without seeming limit, and
his absence of principle as void as space. His plans were often a network
of tangled schemes, so wrought into each other, that to most men involved
in such, there would be no possibility of escape, but under the
manipulation of this master of craft and of intrigue, they would be
brought to a culmination invested with so much plausibility, as to divest
them of any open appearance of wrong. McGillivray was always cool and
collected, suave and smiling, and could make so fair a show of sincerity
and of innocence, backed by a cogency of assertion, as often to make the
false wear the mask of truth.
The times in which McGillivray lived were exceedingly favorable to the
cultivation of his character. That which he did would have been unnatural
with an ordinary man, but to Alexander McGillivray, and to the period in
which he lived, nothing seemed more natural. The times were out of joint,
his native gifts were exceptional, the period afforded just the orbit for
their exercise, and with audacious effrontery he seized on every chance to
execute his fell designs.
The close of the Revolution had left the country in a deplorable
condition. The demoralization which inevitably follows in the wake of war,
was one of unusual seriousness to the young American nation. Added to that
of widespread disaster was the sudden transition from colonial conditions,
under the crown, to that of republican independence. History has failed to
emphasize the moral and social conditions in the American territory,
incident to the Revolution, which conditions imposed a herculean task on
our primitive statesmen. At best, the undertaking of a free government,
under conditions such as then prevailed, was an experiment on which the
hoary nations of Europe looked with doubting interest.
Under the conditions of universal demoralization, the task was assumed of
welding into coherency the scattered elements of population, which
population viewed freedom more as license than as liberty, and with an
interpretation like this, there was a greater tendency toward viciousness
and criminality than toward a patriotic interest in the erection of stable
government. Then, too, the untutored savage still roved the forests, and
his wigwam settlements extended from limit to limit of the territory of
the prospective nation. The savage was revengeful, and stood in defiance
of the encroachment of the whites on his rightful domain. It was under
conditions like these that the unscrupulous McGillivray came on the scene
with all his seductive arts.
In point of diplomacy, he was the peer of any man on the continent, while
in cunning unscrupulousness he was unapproached by any. To scheme was to
him a natural gift; to plot was his delight, and to him intrigue was a
mere pastime. His machinations were so adroitly shaped as to enable him to
rally to his aid forces the most opposite and contradictory, and yet into
each of his wily schemes he could infuse the ardor of enthusiasm. The
danger embodied in McGillivray was that he was not only bad, but that he
was so ably and atrociously wicked. In his veins ran the blood of three
races--Indian, Scotch, and French. His grandfather, Captain Marchand, was
a French officer, his father, a Scotchman, and his mother, one-half
Indian. Alexander inherited the strongest traits of these three races. He
had the quick but seductive perception of the French, the cool
calculation and dogged persistency of the Scotch, and the subtle
shrewdness and treachery of the Indian. Possessing these traits to a
preëminent degree, they were greatly reinforced by an education derived
from the best schools of the time, he having been educated at Charleston,
South Carolina. He was Chesterfieldian in conventional politeness, and as
smooth as Talleyrand in ambiguity of speech. Apparently the fairest and
most loyal of men, he possessed a depth of iniquity inconceivable.
His father, Lachlan McGillivray, had run away from his home in Scotland
when a lad of sixteen, and reached Charleston about forty years before the
outbreak of the Revolution. Penniless and friendless, he engaged to drive
pack-horses, laden with goods, to the Indian settlements on the
Chattahoochee. His only compensation for the trip was a large jackknife,
which proved the germ of a subsequent fortune. Nothing was more highly
prized at that time, than a good jackknife. Lachlan McGillivray exchanged
his knife for a number of deer skins, which commanded an exorbitant price
in the markets of Charleston. Investment followed investment, which
resulted in increasing dividends to the Scotch lad, so that by the time he
was fully grown, he owned two plantations on the Savannah River, both of
which were stocked with negro slaves. He later came to possess large
commercial interests, both in Savannah and Augusta, and having married the
half-breed Indian girl, in Alabama, he owned large interests in this
state. He had, besides Alexander, three other children. One of these
married a French officer, Le Clerc Milfort, who became a
brigadier-general in the army of Napoleon, while another became the wife
of Benjamin Durant, a wealthy Huguenot merchant, the ancestor of the
present Durants in Mobile and Baldwin counties, while another still,
married James Bailey, a half-breed, who was subsequently a conspicuous
defender of Fort Mims. These names are suggestive of fountain sources of
history. This brief introduction prepares us to enter on the remarkable
career of Alexander McGillivray.
THE INDIAN "EMPEROR"
Among the other traits of Alexander McGillivray was that of an
insufferable vanity. The Indians came to recognize him as their chief, but
this he indignantly put aside and named himself "the emperor." Designing
the career of his son to be that of a merchant, Lachlan McGillivray had
afforded him every possible educational advantage that the most advanced
schools could give, but the young man chafed under the restrictions of
commercial life and left his father's home, which was now in Georgia, and
returned to Wetumpka, the scene of his birth and childhood, and allied
himself with the Indians of that region. Most opportune was the time to
young McGillivray, for the Creeks had become involved in a serious
disturbance with the whites of Georgia, and were in search of a competent
leader who could cope with the situation.
The American Revolution was now in progress. The British, here and there
about the South, were active through the Tories, in inciting to rebellion
the ferocious Indians. Every wrong was exaggerated, and many supposed
wrongs were created, to engender strife between the whites and the
Indians. On reaching Wetumpka, young McGillivray was hailed as their chief
and as the man who had come to the kingdom for such a time as this. Fresh
from academic honors, the youth was altogether responsive to the
flatteries of the Indians. Proclaiming himself the emperor of the Creeks,
he donned their garb, and became their idol. He began his operations on a
scale so delightful to the Indians, that he won their confidence at once.