All of these notables were once residents of Alabama, and encountered the

conditions of pioneer life on its western plains. Of some of the ups and

downs of this strange colony something will be said in the next article.

LIFE IN THE FRENCH COLONY

One may easily infer from that already said about these peculiar

colonists, who settled in the early years of the nineteenth century, at

the confluence of the Tombigbee and Black Warrior Rivers, that life under

such conditions must have been strikingly novel throughout. It was an

attempt to graft an exceptional European civilization, with all its

traditional peculiarities of many centuries, into the raw wilderness

conditions of western civilization, and to preserve intact, the customs of

the gay Gallic capital of Europe, on the prairies of black mud in Alabama.

The log huts which lined the streets of primitive Demopolis, were made as

nearly palaces as they well could be, and the streets themselves were

lighted at night, in imitation of the French capital. It was a play doll

performance, as pathetic as it was patriotic and loyal.

The French founded and named Demopolis "the city of the people," seeking

thus to blend a miniature Paris with democratic sentiment. In vain did

these people seek to grow the olive and the vine in an unfriendly soil,

and the attempt was gradually abandoned, and by every possible makeshift

they eked out a bare subsistence. In a fertile soil, vegetables and corn

were easily grown, and with these and with such supplies as they could get

from the game of the woods, they struggled on against odds. They were not

without annoyance from the Indians, and more from the American settlers

who were now beginning to come into that quarter of the Alabama

territory. These latter would entrench on the lands of the French which

gave rise to much friction, and an agent had to go to Washington to sue

for protection against such invasions. This occasioned opposition to the

"furreners," as the French came to be popularly called, in the neighboring

log cabins of the American squatters.

As an indication of the extremity to which the French were reduced,

Colonel Raoul, a large, handsome and dignified cavalry officer in the

Napoleonic army, had to establish a ferry on the river to convey travelers

from one side to the other, while his beautiful queenly wife sold

gingerbread and persimmon beer on the bank, at the ferry. With her

delicate jeweled fingers she would manufacture these crude refreshments,

and with much grace serve them to the rude pioneers.

Years afterward, when Raoul had been restored to the confidence of the

French government, and was occupying a lucrative position in Paris, after

serving for some time in the Mexican army, he was visited by John Hurtel,

who was also one of the French colonists, but now a prosperous merchant in

Mobile. Intimate and even affectionate as friends, Colonel Raoul gave a

dinner to his Mobile friend, and invited to the banquet many of his

distinguished Parisian friends. To a group, Raoul was relating his pioneer

experiences as a ferryman, which all laughingly doubted, when Raoul called

to Hurtel, in another part of the room to join them. He then asked Hurtel

what he (Raoul) did at Demopolis. He replied that he kept a ferry. "And

what did the madame do?" asked Raoul. "Sold ginger cakes and simmon

beer," said Hurtel, all of which was greeted with roars of laughter.

As an expression of devotion to his imperial sovereign, General Desnoettes

built a shanty near his log cabin, which shanty he called his "sanctuary."

In the center of this humble museum stood a bronze statue of Napoleon,

encircled by relics of war captured by Desnoettes--swords, pistols,

spears, spurs and saddles--while in graceful folds about the walls hung

the captured banners. The customs of the people were often as grotesque as

they were pathetic. After days of struggle and labor, the evenings would

be spent in music and dancing in the log cabins, or else along the narrow

grassy streets of the village would resound, till a late hour of the

night, the notes of musical instruments. The great generals of a hundred

battles preserved their military dignity and conventionalities while

working with might and main in their laboring garbs, with their

broad-brimmed hats flapping about their heads. Every stranger would be

greeted with the military salute, no matter who he was.

In compliance with the requirements of the territorial laws, every male

citizen of a given age, had to meet statedly at some point named by the

commanding militia officer, to drill. From this the French were not

exempt, and these experts in military science were compelled to join in

the ranks of the rough and tumble yeomanry on the muster ground, and go

through with the rude evolutions known to them from the days of their

cadetship.

These were the days of the country grocery, and of the crossroads grocery,

which were inseparable from the muster ground and the rural drill, and

their presence meant fisticuff fights, gouged eyes, broken noses, and

dislocated teeth. There was not the best feeling toward the "furrener," at

any rate, and there was a disposition in this region especially, to

provoke him to difficulty. It is related that on one occasion a bully

under the sway of liquor, sought a difficulty with one of the French,

which ended in the Frenchman being knocked down and jumped on by the rough

militiaman. The poor fellow knew not a word of English, and he cried in

his extremity for "enough" the French word "bravo," which he knew had

something to do with fighting. He repeatedly yelled "bravo" with the hope

that some one would pull off his assailant, but the assailant interpreted

it to mean an expression of defiance, and was brutally pommeling the Gaul.

Some of the by-standers properly construed the meaning of the Frenchman,

from the tone of his appeal, and pulled the ruffian off.

In the geographical names of that region--Arcola, Agleville (Eagleville),

Linden (Hohenlinden), and Marengo, not to mention Demopolis--one finds the

evidence of the past occupation of the French. During the first year or

two, a number of other French came from France and joined the colony, but

the object which they had in view, failing, that of raising grapes and

olives, the colony gradually dissipated, the emigrants going in different

directions, and in Mobile and New Orleans, as elsewhere, may be found the

descendants of some of these original colonists, still bearing the names

of their ancestors of almost a century ago. Long after the occupied

domain had been abandoned, there could be seen in the waxy mud in the

region of Demopolis the imprints of the delicate shoes of those Parisian

women.

PRIMITIVE HARDSHIPS

Few are aware of the extremes to which the earliest settlers of Alabama

were reduced in their migration from the old colonies to this region,

while it was yet a territory. It may be said that the original stock of

Alabama settlers was generally of the best type of Anglo-Saxon manhood and

womanhood. Inherently, they had no superiors on the continent. They are

not to be thought of as adventurers, restlessly migrating to a new region

with a dissatisfaction which sought relief in the mere act of moving, for

adventurers would never have undergone that which was experienced by these

fathers, in pitching their homes in a wilderness infested by savages and

wild beasts. The fact that they did that which was done, labels the type

of character of these original commonwealth builders.

Back of their migration from Virginia and the Carolinas, from which most

of the original settlers of Alabama came, lay a fact which largely

influenced their removal. The new republic was still in course of

construction. The revolution had left a chaotic condition in the older

colonies, and men of sturdiness conceived the idea of going far westward,

where they could create new conditions, and build for the future. They

were not unprepared for the privation that was to be encountered, nor

altogether unapprised of it, but in the face of these suspended

difficulties, they were nerved by genuine Caucasian grit. A number of

solid and substantial folk would get together and agree to removing to the

west, with a common understanding of general sharers in a common

interest, thereby procuring a sense of sympathetic protection, traverse

the wide distance, occupy a given community in a fresh territory, and rear

their fortunes together.

The most ordinary conveniences were scarce, utensils and tools hardly to

be had, shoes and clothing scant, methods of conveyance rude, and thus to

the utmost extremity were these original founders of Alabama reduced. The

dependence for transportation was a few horses and oxen, which were

employed in common by a body of hardy colonists. On the horses were placed

the women and children, on the oxen the scanty household effects; the

stock was grouped in a common herd, cattle, swine and sheep, to be driven

on foot by the men and boys, each of whom was supplied with a gun or an

implement, and thus would they begin their march to a region of which they

knew nothing, save that it was without population, densely wooded and with

no other denizens than those of Indians and of ferocious beasts.

Even where roads and bridges were encountered on the way, they were crude,

and west of the confines of Georgia, the wilderness was untraversed save

by the wild savage, whose slender paths wound the forests through. So far

as these pathways were available, they were used, but oftener than

otherwise these plucky pioneersmen would have to hack their way through

the forests, opening paths as they slowly went. Regarded from this point

of time, there was a ludicrousness in these primitive shifts, but men and

women were never more serious than were these old-fashioned mothers and

fathers. They were the rough germs from which sprang a civilization

unsurpassed in its elements in history. Wives, mothers, and daughters,

bare-headed or wearing the old fly bonnet, were mounted on poor horses,

with children on their laps, or clinging on from behind, while dangling on

either side of the burdened beast were packages which contained the most

of that which they possessed in this world. In advance, men with axes

would rapidly hew away the underbrush for a bare passage, while the

bleating herd would follow, driven mostly by the larger boys. The smaller

streams were waded, while in order to cross the larger streams, rafts were

constructed, the timbers of which were held together by the native vines,

while such of the animals as could swim were forced to do so.

There was a flow of cheer and jocularity which served as a condiment to

hard conditions, and when the camp fires were lighted, the stock fed on

the native grasses, and supper was eaten, men chatted and smoked, sang and

told jokes, while the industrious wives and daughters would ply their

knitting needles. By turns the camp was guarded against possible

contingencies for the night, and the next morning the same arduous march

would be resumed.

The destination finally reached, the struggles against difficulties would

begin in earnest. Boundaries of chosen land would be indicated by cutting

belts about the trees with a peculiar, personal mark, and then await the

future for full legal possession. In the construction of temporary homes,

colonists would vie with each other in the ingenuity displayed. The

method most common was to select trees as corners of the dwelling, and

then wattle saplings among those intervening from corner to corner, while

the roof was made of bark and the skins of wild animals. The cooking was

done without, in one or two small utensils. The grounds about were cleared

of the underbrush sufficiently to be planted, which was commonly done with

wedge-shaped rods being thrust stroke by stroke into the rich soil, the

seed dropped, and covered with the foot. As for meat, there was slight

difficulty, as deer, turkeys and squirrels were abundant. Shoes and

clothing would soon become matters of grave concern, but the deficiency

would be met by the appropriation of the hides of animals, from which

grotesque garments would be made, while the feet would be wrapped about

with strips of just sufficient size to cover them, the fur being turned

inward, and held by strings tied about each foot. The fortunate possession

of a pair of good shoes was an object of neighborhood envy. Objects so

valued and prized as were real shoes, were worn only on special occasions.

It was a custom long after the original settlement of Alabama, for many to

take their shoes under their arms, in going to church, and just before

reaching the place of worship, to put them on. Shoes that creaked were

specially prized, as they would attract attention.

Small water mills came to be erected, and it was not unusual for one to

take his corn on his back the distance of twenty miles in order to have it

ground. This meant an absence from home of three or four days at a time.

From the earliest years of the century just gone, these conditions

continued in parts of the interior of Alabama till 1815 and even later.

The battle of New Orleans meant much for what was then known as the

southwest, of which Alabama was a part. Not a few of the future

distinguished families in the history of the state, emerged from

conditions such as here have been described. From straits of poverty, they

came to be among the most wealthy of the state.

LAFAYETTE'S VISIT

In April, 1825, when LaFayette visited Alabama, the state was about six

years old. Conditions were still very crude, there being but few roads,

and they bad enough in a wet season; but few villages existed; the country

was sparsely settled; the Indian was still in the land, but was now

subdued and peaceable, and a few boats plied the waters of the rivers.

Israel Pickens was then governor, and it was through his patriotic

enterprise as a wideawake governor, that LaFayette was induced to turn

aside from Augusta, Ga., and make the overland trip to Cahaba, the new

capital of Alabama, instead of going to Charleston to take a boat to New

Orleans.

LaFayette was now about sixty-eight years old, but he was still vigorous

and active, and so far from a tour through a region largely wilderness,

deterring him, he was really anxious to take it. As he came westward from

Augusta, conditions grew cruder, but every possible provision was made for

his comfort. For months together, he had been in the country as its guest,

and the character of the receptions varied in every respect save one--the

cordiality of the people which was unbounded.

The American congress had extended to him a formal invitation to return to

America on a visit, the invitation being impelled by a double motive, that

of showing the revolutionists of his own land, to whose vengeance

LaFayette had fallen a victim, because of his democratic principles, that

America was his loyal friend, and that of enabling a new generation of

Americans to express their gratitude to a patriot of France, who had spilt

his blood in behalf of the independence that they enjoyed. From the moment

that he landed on our soil, throughout, his tour was a triumphal journey,

and he was hailed with a universal tumult of honor and praise. He was

comparatively a poor man because of principle. Though the possessor of

vast estates in France, they were forfeited, or in plainer language, were

confiscated by the government of France, because of his republican

principles. The American congress voted him $200,000 in gold, and a

township of land. He was deeply moved by the gratitude and love of the

young nation, and often in speaking in response to welcomes accorded, his

voice would tremble with emotion. It may be said, in passing, that at the

one hundredth anniversary of the battle of Yorktown, in 1881, in which

battle LaFayette shared, a representative of his family was present as the

guest of the nation.

When LaFayette reached Washington, in 1825, there was accorded him an

ovation that was almost overwhelming. From long distances the common

people had traveled, some coming on foot, others on horseback, in ox

carts, wagons, carriages and every way, men, women and children, to catch

a glimpse of the great ally of Washington, and patriot of the revolution,

and all about the city on the outside were their braying mules, neighing

horses, and lowing oxen in the midst of an unbroken encampment formed by

the country folk. In crushing multitudes they thronged about LaFayette, in

genuine democratic style, seeking to grasp his hand, a demonstration that

was as much enjoyed by LaFayette as by themselves. Henry Clay was then

speaker of the house, and his speech of welcome to LaFayette is one of the

most splendid bursts of oratory that ever came from his musical lips. The

reply of the distinguished Frenchman did him great honor. It is a pity

that these great deliverances are buried in old and musty books of which

but little is known. Wherever LaFayette appeared in Washington, the

unrestrained multitudes would rush frantically toward him as though they

would devour him.

From Washington he planned his trip southward and westward, or toward the

great Southwest, as Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana were then called.

In making his dates, in advance, he knew practically nothing of the nature

of the country, nothing of the difficulty of travel, so that by the time

he reached the eastern border of Alabama he was several days behind time.

So far from delay cooling the ardor of the people, it had just the

opposite effect. The interest deepened, widened and seethed meantime, and

his announced coming into a given region absorbed all things else. Even

the Indians of Georgia and of Alabama were seized by the contagion of

enthusiasm, and while knowing little or nothing of LaFayette or of his

career, they learned that he was the friend of Washington, and a great

warrior, and so joined with native ardor into the excitement of his

reception. A body of painted warriors with varied and gay plumage, and

with bodies stained in divers colors, and wearing red and striped

blankets, insisted on becoming a part of his escort through Georgia, and

cherished the privilege of serving him with the most minute servility.

There is a good side to humanity always, if we only reach it. To the

Indians it was a special delight to shoot down an occasional buck on the

way, and to present it to the polite Frenchman between whose cultured

conventionality and the rude but touchingly sincere kindness of the

Indian, there was an amusing difference.

With great effort and sacrifice, Governor Pickens had made every

arrangement possible for as august demonstration as the young state could

give to the eminent guest of the nation. His plans were perfect in every

detail, for he was an executive master, as is shown by the correspondence

in the possession of the present writer, between him and the militia

commanders, as well as with the civil authorities and prominent citizens.

The chief difficulty seems to have been to raise a fund sufficient for a

demonstration worthy of the great French patriot, for money was

exceedingly scarce in those infant days of struggle, but Pickens was

indefatigable, and he had a way of accomplishing whatever he set his hands

to. Fortunate for Governor Pickens was the delay of LaFayette, as this

enabled him to execute more to his satisfaction the vast and difficult

plans relating to the series of receptions along the triumphal march of

LaFayette through Alabama. For days together, LaFayette was lost to the

public eye as traversing the wilderness he was lost in its depths, making

his way as best he could from the Savannah to the Chattahoochee under the

protection of the Georgia escort of militia and painted Indian warriors.

The correspondence shows that he could not be heard of for days together,

but on the banks of the Chattahoochee the provided escort waited, day

after day, till he should appear. He at last came within sight and the

demonstration began, and novel enough it was. Of this we shall learn more

in the article next succeeding.

LAFAYETTE'S RECEPTION

Large barges were in readiness to convey the party across the

Chattahoochee to the Alabama side, where was gathered a multitude of

distinguished citizens, a troop of Alabama militia under General Taylor,

and a body of Indian warriors in their native attire, who seemed more

enthusiastic than the others. As the barges glided toward the bank, the

Indians raised yell after yell, and rushed to the edge of the water to

receive them. They were under the command of Chilly Mackintosh, or Little

Prince. So soon as the barges were arranged for landing, the Indians

dashed on board, unhitched the horse from the sulky that bore LaFayette,

each vying with every other to render the promptest service, and drew the

vehicle to the top of the steep bank with every indication of delight.

When all was over, speeches of welcome and the response were in order.

Here LaFayette met a former aide of his, who had served him during the

Revolution, as a young man, but now somewhat advanced in life--Rev. Isaac

Smith, a Methodist missionary to the Indians. LaFayette recognized him,

and gave a warm and affectionate greeting. In the exuberance of his zeal,

the missionary begged that they bow in prayer. There under the tall trees

of the river's bank the party bowed in solemn prayer, LaFayette and the

Indians joining, and with uplifted voice, Mr. Smith prayed the blessings

of heaven on the great patriot. The Indians intent on showing their

interest proposed to have a game of ball for the entertainment of

LaFayette, after which Mr. Smith invited him to his humble home, where

they recounted to each other the scenes of their lives since they parted

at the disorganization of the army, about forty-three years before.

After a season of rest, LaFayette started with the cavalcade along a road

which led through an uninhabited region for almost a hundred miles, he

riding in a fine carriage drawn by four beautiful grays, and attended by

the uniformed state soldiery and the Indians, who proposed to see him

safely through their own territory. So complete were the arrangements made

by Governor Pickens, that at proper intervals, along the dreary and

monotonous way, there were the amplest provisions for refreshments, of

food, shelter, and rest.

At Line Creek, twenty miles from the village of Montgomery, the limit of

the territory of the Indians was reached, and here they took formal leave

of LaFayette. Their chief, the Little Prince, made a stirring speech to

LaFayette in his native tongue, not a word of which did LaFayette

understand, and guided solely by the gesticulation and facial expression

of the chief, the old patriot replied in English, not a word of which did

the Indians comprehend. With much ceremony they shook hands with

LaFayette, and quietly turned on their march to their homes in the woods.

At Line Creek, the ranks of the cavalcade were largely reinforced by the

addition of a fresh installment of troops and of many distinguished

citizens, who had made their way across the country from different

directions, in order to share in the demonstration. Once within the

confines of civilization the journey to Montgomery and beyond was relieved

by the cultivated fields of the white man, now in the bloom of young and

promising crops, and the homes of refinement dotting the country over.

This was a great relief to LaFayette, who had been buried for almost a

week in the depths of an uncultivated wilderness. The improved roads

enabled the procession to make greater speed as it moved toward the

village of Montgomery.

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