primitive enough, and were but a slight advance on the dugout or canoes of
the red men. The heavy, clumsy flatboat, propelled in part by long oars
used by the hand, and in part by long poles let down from the edge of the
boat and by the pressure of the body urged slowly along, and by the use of
grappling hooks to pull the boat upstream, were in use far into the
twenties of the nineteenth century. These boats were of limited surface
capacity, difficult of management, and exceedingly slow. An indication of
their sluggish movement is afforded by the fact that in 1819, when
Honorable Henry Goldthwaite was on his way from Mobile to Montgomery, to
make the latter town his home, he was just three months on the voyage up
the Alabama River. With slow movement and noiselessly, these heavy craft
would be propelled up the river, and on approaching a given point the
boatmen would signal their approach by firing a small cannon kept on each
barge for that purpose. After the invention of the steam whistle, now so
common, by Adrian Stephens, of Plymouth, England, whistles came at once
into use on all American waters.
For ages these great streams had been rolling wanton to the sea, and after
the occupation of Alabama by the whites, the natural advantages were
readily recognized, but as nothing was then known of the steam engine, of
course there was nothing left but to employ the most available craft for
transportation. For a long period, only the awkward barges and flatboats
were used. It may be readily seen how the introduction of steamers on our
rivers would facilitate individual and aggregate prosperity, which had
been so long retarded by the slow process of navigation already mentioned.
Though Robert Fulton's first grotesque steamer appeared on the waters of
the Hudson as early as 1807, and while a steamer had not yet been seen in
these parts, enterprising spirits, in anticipation of the coming use of
steamboats, organized a company at St. Stephens, the territorial capital,
in 1818, which company was duly authorized by the legislature of the
Alabama Territory, and bore the name of the St. Stephens Steamboat
Company. This was followed two years later by another, which was
incorporated under the name of the Steamboat Company of Alabama, and a
year later still came the organization of the Mobile Steamship Company. If
it is supposed that the fathers had no enterprise in those early days,
this will serve to disabuse the minds of all doubters. They were dealing
in steam futures, but they were ready for the coming tide of steam
progress. In due course of time, these rival organizations introduced
steamers on the rivers of the state, but they were not rapid of
locomotion, were at first small, rather elaborate in adornment, and
afforded some degree of comfort to a limited number of passengers. These
diminutive floaters were gradually displaced by larger vessels, the number
multiplied, and by 1845 magnificent packets were lowered from the decks
and became "floating palaces" on our waters.
At first, a steamer was propelled by a wheel at each side, but this
gradually gave way to a single wheel at the stern. The period of the
career of these magnificent steamers was a brief one, lasting not more
than fifteen or twenty years before the outburst of the Civil War.
Railways in Alabama were still practically unknown, and steamboat travel
was exceedingly popular. On the best and finest steamers the entertainment
could scarcely be excelled. The staterooms were often elegant, and always
comfortable, and the tables were banquet boards. The best country produce
was gathered at the landings, and the table fare was one of the boasts of
the steamers. The most sumptuous carpets were on the floors of the
passenger saloons, while superb furniture was alike pleasing to the eye
and comfortable in practical use. The boats were constructed with three
decks, known, respectively, as the lower, the middle or passenger, and the
upper or hurricane deck.
During the cotton season, which extended from September to March, or about
one-half the year, the boats would descend the rivers loaded each trip
with hundreds of bales of cotton, and returning, would be laden with
merchandise, while in both directions, there was usually a throng of
passengers. On some of the most elegant steamers were calliopes, the music
of which would resound at night over many miles of territory pierced by
the rivers. Nothing known to entertainment or comfort was omitted on a
first-class steamer in the forties and fifties.
Many of the landings on the rivers were located on high bluffs through
which a flight of steps would lead from the summit to the water's edge,
the length of which flight would sometimes exceed several hundred feet.
Alongside the uncovered stairway, was a tram for a wide car, which was
nothing more than a platform on wheels, which wheels ran on two beams of
wood, the surface of which was sheeted with iron. The car was operated by
means of a pulley on the summit, which, in turn, was operated by a mule or
horse moving in a circular enclosure. The freight from the steamer was
strung along the bank below, to be cared for by the warehouse above. When
cotton was to be shipped from the top of the bluff, a number of deck hands
would go to the top of the steps, and each bale was slid down the tramway
to the boat. The bale would be started endwise and descend with whizzing
swiftness, strike the lower deck, be seized by the hands below, and put in
place.
Great were the days of the reign of the steamboat! While slow, compared
with later methods of travel, steamboat passage was the acme of comfort
and enjoyment. The social pleasure afforded was unsurpassed. While it
would require several days to go two or three hundred miles by boat, the
element of time was not so much a consideration in those leisurely days as
it is now, and the regret was often that the time of the passage was not
longer. During the busy season the schedule of the boats was most
irregular, and not infrequently passengers would wait the arrival of the
boat for twenty-four hours, and sometimes even longer.
It was interesting, the contention and competition among the rival boats
for freight and passenger traffic. In order to be able to advertise the
popularity of a given steamer, the subordinate officers and others of the
crew, would solicit passengers at the hotels of the terminal cities, and
would not only offer free passage, sometimes, but actually offer a
consideration of a small sum of money, in addition, to such as would make
choice of that steamer in preference to another.
The war greatly crippled boating on the rivers, and with the rally and
rehabilitation of the South from the effects of the war, the railway came
on anon, and the steamers largely disappeared from our rivers.
HARRY, THE MARTYR JANITOR
Howard College, then at Marion, was burned on the night of October 15,
1854.
Dr. Henry Talbird was at the time the president of the institution, and
his nightly habit was to make a thorough inspection of the grounds and
buildings, in order to see that all was well. After making his usual and
uniform round on the night just named, he went to bed somewhat after ten
o'clock. He had fallen into deep sleep, when he was aroused by the ringing
of bells and the loud cry of "Fire! Fire! Fire!" On rushing out, he found
the lower floor of the dormitory all ablaze, the fire already having begun
its ascent up the stairway.
To this day the origin of the fire is a mystery. It was in the fall of the
year, the weather was still warm, and there was no occasion for fire about
the building. The basement was one mass of rolling flames when first the
building was reached. In a house near by, the janitor, a negro boy of
twenty-three, was sleeping, and when he reached the scene, the flames were
moving steadily up the stairway. He made a movement as if to plunge into
the flames, when he was warned to keep clear. He replied that he must save
the boys who were sleeping on the two upper floors, and did plunge through
fire and smoke, and disappeared beyond.
Within a short time many of the people of the town had gathered, and the
boys began to leap, one after another, to the ground. Ladders were brought
into requisition to aid those on the highest floor to escape. Every
student was aroused by the heroic colored janitor, and all but one had
descended safely to the ground.
The young man who was still missing soon appeared at a window and was
saved through the exertions of the late Dr. Noah K. Davis, late professor
of philosophy in the University of Virginia, and several others.
About this time the negro boy, burnt almost bare, and raw from his burns,
his hair burnt from his head, and his eyebrows and lashes gone, appeared
at one of the highest windows and flung himself to the ground, about sixty
feet below.
He rolled over on the grass a dead man.
His body was drawn from under the influence of the intense heat, and every
effort was made to restore life, but he had been burned to death, and
evidently had thrown himself from the window to prevent his body from
being consumed in the burning building.
The terrible fire was now lost sight of in the attention which was
bestowed on the faithful negro janitor. He had given his life for others.
The following morning, elaborate preparations were made for the becoming
burial of the heroic Harry. Negro slave, as he was, he was honored with a
burial from the leading white church of the town.
The building was packed with wealthy planters, merchants, lawyers, and
their families to do honor to the hero of the fire.
In the funeral services leading citizens arose, one by one, to pronounce
eulogies on the dead slave.
Flowers were in profusion, and the procession to the cemetery was composed
of the carriages of the wealthy. Greater distinction could not have been
shown the most eminent citizen of the town.
At the grave, every possible consideration was shown, and mournfully the
vast crowd turned from the grave of an humble slave. A sum of money was at
once raised for the purpose of placing a high marble shaft at his grave,
and in the cemetery at Marion it still stands conspicuously, with the
inscriptions undimmed by the storms of more than half a century. On the
front of the shaft is the inscription: "Harry, servant of H. H. Talbird,
D.D., president of Howard College, who lost his life from injuries
received while rousing the students at the burning of the college
building, on the night of October 15, 1854, aged 23 years." On another
side appears the inscription: "A consistent member of the Baptist church,
he illustrated the character of a Christian servant, 'faithful unto
death.'" On still another side appears the language: "As a grateful
tribute to his fidelity, and to commemorate a noble act, this monument has
been erected by the students of Howard College and the Alabama Baptist
Convention." The fourth side of the monument bears this inscription: "He
was employed as a waiter in the college, and when alarmed by the flames at
midnight, and warned to escape for his life, he replied, 'I must wake the
boys first,' and thus saved their lives at the cost of his own."
Here humanity asserted itself to the full. Uninfluenced by any other
consideration than that a young man had proved himself a hero in a dire
crisis, every worthy man and woman was ready to accord to a dead but
heroic slave, the merits of his just deserts.
At this time the country was shaken by the acrimonious discussion of
domestic slavery, in which the negro was as extravagantly exploited in the
North as he was depreciated in the South; so much so, indeed, that it was
deemed unwise in the South to accord him other than ordinary
consideration. But in a juncture like this, humanity asserted itself, and
to the faithful negro janitor every possible honor was shown. For when an
ignorant slave boy became a rare hero, and voluntarily gave his life for
others, all else, for the time, was forgotten at the bar of tested
humanity.
The name of Harry was heralded through the press of the country, and on
the floor of the Baptist State Convention of Alabama wealthy slave owners
eulogized him a hero, and freely opened their purses to give expression to
their appreciation of his chivalrous conduct in saving the lives of so
many.
"World-wide apart, and yet akin,
As shown that the human heart
Beats on forever as of old."
A MEMORABLE FREEZE
The year 1849 is signalized as the most remarkable in the history of the
state. The winter was ushered in by mildness, there was but little harsh
weather during the entire season, and the winter was early merged into the
mildness of spring. Vegetable life began to appear in the greenswards, the
blossoms came in profusion, birds were singing and nesting, vegetables
grew to early perfection, and the good housewives were careful to stow
away the winter apparel with safeguards against moths and other
destructive insects.
Planters were awake to turning the advanced season to practical account,
the fields were plowed and planted, and the young crops began growing
rapidly under the genial and fervid skies. The crops were much advanced
because of these favorable conditions, and the fruit was rapidly
increasing in size. Every indication pointed to a prosperous year, and the
flash of confidence was in the eye of every planter. Cool snaps would now
and then come, but they were not of such character as to occasion concern,
and the young crops were growing rapidly apace. Corn had been planted
early, and excellent stands were everywhere to be seen. The peculiar
season excited much wonder, and was the occasion of not a little comment.
There was a rush and bustle of life everywhere. Cotton was early planted,
was chopped out, and was rapidly growing off.
The burst of summertide had practically come by the middle of April, the
gardens were yielding abundantly of vegetables, and cold weather came to
be regarded as a memory. The oldest declared that they had never before
witnessed a year like that, and the indications were that the harvest
would come at least a month in advance of any previous year. Early fruits
began to ripen, and progressive housewives were vying with each other in
the production of early fruits and vegetables, and especially in the
quantity of eggs gathered.
Near the latter part of April of that year a sudden change came. The
atmosphere became rapidly chilly, but as snaps had come at different
times, this occasioned no serious alarm.
But the weather continued to become more icy, and there was a rapid shift
of apparel. The sudden change culminated in one of the fiercest freezes
that had occurred within a number of years. The corn was waist high, and
the cotton fully twelve inches in height, and perfectly clear of grass.
The morning following the severe freeze revealed a wide waste of
desolation. Wilt and blight and death were everywhere. The deepest green
was turned into sallow, and cheerlessness everywhere reigned. Not a
glimpse of green was to be seen. Gardens, fields and pastures equally
shared in the general desolation. Not a note of a bird could be heard,
many of the songsters were found dead, and nature seemed to put on the
weeds of mourning.
The enthusiasm of the planting public was turned into consternation. There
was everywhere dismay. The season was well advanced, seed was scarce and
difficult to be had, and the sudden check was a shock. The difficulty was
that few knew what to do in the presence of a phenomenon so remarkable.
But there was no halt on the part of the progressive planters. They
resumed their activity and fell to the work of planting anew. The soil was
in excellent condition, economy was had in the use of seed, and soon
another crop was planted. The weather rapidly changed to warmth again,
showers followed, and the seasons thenceforth were ideal. Every condition
favored germination and growth, cultivation was rapid, and within a few
weeks the fields were again radiant in vernal freshness. The leaves came
again slowly on the trees, though many of the trees died. Fruit utterly
failed, and not a few of the fruit trees were killed.
As with compensating balance, a long summer ensued, followed by a late
fall, the crops grew rapidly to perfection, every condition favored their
tillage and final harvesting, the whole resulting in one of the most
bounteous crops produced up to that time in the state.
Hickorynuts, walnuts, acorns, and swampmast generally were abundant to the
salvation of the small game of the woods, and to the supplementary aid of
the raisers of hogs, and no inconvenience was experienced save that
everything was backward.
The opening of the cotton market was delayed for a month or six weeks, but
the price was good, and the year 1849 recovered from its disaster, and
proved to be one of the most prosperous that had ever been experienced.
Merchants who were accustomed to go north for their stocks were somewhat
delayed, but so were the seasons, and conditions were amply equalized by
the close of the year, and events took their usual and uniform round.
To be sure, scientific wiseacres here and there declared that the seasons
were changing, just as is always true when phenomena come, but practical
men went on their way, farmers becoming more economic and careful, but as
'49 receded, it became a year much talked of during the then existing
generation, and in time became a tradition as a remarkable exception among
the years.
Remarkable meteorological phenomena have come in all periods of history,
and while they have furnished supposed data to a certain class of
scientists, so-called, with which they have woven theories not a few, the
temperature of the different zones has continued as of old, and while
fatuous theories have gone to the winds, the seasons have kept on their
wonted rounds as of old.
The modification of temperature may come as a result of certain conditions
like that of the denudation of our forests and others, yet there is
scarcely any prospect that any material change will come, for so long as
the gulf stream pursues its way, climates are not liable to undergo any
decided change.
TWO SLAVE MISSIONARIES
Amidst the shadings and shinings of slavery were two instances in Alabama
history that are worthy of record. During the regime of slavery, provision
was made in the churches of the whites for the accommodation of the
slaves, in the larger churches by spacious galleries, and in the smaller
ones, by rear seats. The latter custom prevailed, for the most part, in
the rural churches.
Among the different denominations, the Baptists and Methodists were
foremost in the provision of the means of the evangelization of the
slaves. These two denominations made each year appointments of white
missionaries to the blacks on the plantations, and on the services held
under such conditions, both the whites and blacks would attend. Provision
was made for membership of the slaves in the churches of the whites, where
they enjoyed the same privileges in common, being received into membership
in the same way, baptized, as were the others, and sharing in the
communion alike. When the slaves were freed, they were encouraged to found
their own churches and other institutions, the friendly whites aiding them
in every way possible.
So far back as 1828, before the agitation of the slavery question began in
earnest, in the press, the schools, and in the congress of the United
States, much attention was given to the christianization of the slaves.
This spirit was somewhat later checked by the establishment of the
underground railroad, and by other methods clandestinely employed by the
abolitionists to liberate the southern slaves. These secret methods called
into exercise counter means as those of circumvention. Among these last
mentioned was that of the legal imposition of a penalty on anyone who
would teach a slave to read or to write, which law was generally enacted
in the slave states, and the other was that of the fugitive slave law,
which was enacted September 18, 1850.
Between the legislative bodies and the Christian denominations there was
no apparent conflict, and yet those interested in the evangelization of
the slaves recognized the necessity of intelligence in order to appreciate
the gospel. The practical result was that the legislature would enact its
laws and the churches would pursue their own courses in their own ways. In
the Alabama Baptist Association a step was taken, in 1828, that reveals
one of the bright sides of slavery. At that time the Alabama association
embraced a number of counties in the heart of the "black belt," where were
many of the largest slave owners of the state.
Within the territory of that association was a remarkable negro named
Caesar, who belonged to John R. Blackwell. This slave showed not only
remarkable ability as a preacher, but possessed a rare character which was
highly esteemed by the whites. The missionary to the slaves at that time
was Rev. James McLemore, on whom Caesar won rapidly, and he often took the
slave preacher with him on his tours, and not infrequently had him to
preach in his stead. Mr. McLemore called the attention of the association
to the worth of this man, and proposed that he be bought from his master,
given his freedom, and be employed as a missionary to the slaves on the
plantations. This was accordingly done, through a committee of the body,
and the sum of $625 was paid for Caesar out of the treasury of the
association, and the remainder of the life of Caesar was given exclusively
to preaching as a free man. Exceedingly black as Caesar was, he was gladly
listened to by white auditors, as he would go here and there about the
country on his missionary tours.
In another instance, the Alabama state convention sought to purchase a
gifted slave for the same purpose. There belonged to John Phillips, of
Cotton Valley, Macon County, a slave whose name was Dock, a large,
muscular and valuable man, who was a blacksmith on his master's
plantation. He and his master had been reared together, and were much
devoted to each other. In his younger days, Dock had been taught to read
and to write by his young master, who came at last to inherit him from his
father's estate. Mr. Phillips continued to teach Dock, who became a
preacher of note among his people, and who was widely esteemed by the
whites because of his Christian worth, wise influence on the slaves, and
because, too, of his gift as a preacher. He attracted the attention of
some of the prominent members of the convention, and the proposal was made
to purchase his freedom, and to send him forth as a missionary among the
blacks. An influential committee was appointed, one of which number was
the late Dr. Samuel Henderson, and in due time, the committee visited the
master with the view of negotiating the purchase.
When the matter was submitted to the master he replied that he did not
wish to prevent the greatest good being done among the slaves, and
admitted that Dock was a tower of strength with his people, but added that
he regarded Dock indispensable to his plantation, because he was his chief
"driver," and his only reliable blacksmith. After much discussion, the
master consented to leave the matter for settlement to Dock himself.
Accordingly he and the committee of distinguished preachers repaired to
the blacksmith shop, called Dock out, who was wearing his long leather
apron, and had his sleeves rolled to his shoulders, while his face was
begrimed with smoke and soot. Mr. Phillips remained silent, and allowed
the preachers and Dock to negotiate concerning his purchase and consequent
freedom.
Dock listened in silence while they proceeded to show him the advantages
which would accrue to him, in consequence of his freedom and the exercise
of his gifts as a preacher. When the committee had ended, Dock asked his
friend and master what he had to say to a proposal so novel, and the
master told him that it was left to him to decide. The blacksmith then
said: "Marse John, we were raised together, and have always been like
brothers. You give me all the freedom I want. You let me have a horse to
ride when I want it, and there has never been a word between us. No
greater kindness could I have, if I were free, but if you want to sell me,
I will go, not because I want to, but because you want to get rid of me.
Of course, I belong to you, and if you leave it to me, I'm going to stay
with you till one or the other of us dies." "That settles it, gentlemen,"
said the master, and turning to Dock, he said, "You may go back to your
work." Dock lived many years, was a slave preacher of power, but was never
free. There is much of the inner history of the South of which the world
knows nothing.
THE CAMP MEETING