Departure from Milledgeville—Macon—Indian Agency—Meeting with Indians
during a Storm—Hamley—M’Intosh’s Tribe—Uchee Creek—Big
Warrior—Captain Lewis—Line Creek—Montgomery—Farewell of
M’Intosh—Cahawba—State of Alabama—Mobile.
On the 29th of March, after having taken leave of the citizens of
Milledgeville, and expressed our thanks to the committee of arrangement,
the authorities of the town and the state, for the kindnesses with which
we had been loaded, we resumed our route with some aides-de-camp of
Governor Troup, who, with a skilful foresight, had previously arranged
every thing, so that the general should experience the inconveniences
inevitably to be encountered, as little as possible, in a journey across
a country without roads, towns, and almost without inhabitants; for, to
enter the state of Alabama, we had to traverse that vast territory which
separates it from Georgia, and which is inhabited by the Creek nation; a
people which civilization has blighted with some of its vices, without
having been able to win them from the habits of a wandering and savage
life.
The first day, after travelling for some hours, we arrived at Macon to
dinner, where the general was received with enthusiasm by the citizens,
and a number of ladies, whose elegance and manners formed a singular
contrast to the aspect of the country we had traversed. Macon, which is
a small and handsome village, tolerably populous, did not exist eighteen
months since; it has arisen from the midst of the forests as if by
enchantment. It is a civilized speck lost in the yet immense domain of
the original children of the soil. Within a league of this place, we are
again in the bosom of virgin forests; the summits of these aged trees,
which appear as records of the age of the world, waved above our heads,
and, when agitated by the winds, gave rise alternately to that shrill or
hollow tone, which Chateaubriand has termed the voice of the desert. The
road we pursued was a kind of gulley or fissure, over the bottom of
which the general’s carriage was with difficulty drawn, and often at the
risk of being shattered in pieces; we followed on horseback, and arrived
in the evening at the Indian agency.
This is an isolated habitation in the midst of the forests, built during
the last year for the conferences between the Indian chiefs and the
commissioners of the United States. It was there that the treaty was
formed, by which the tribes inhabiting the left bank of the Mississippi
consented to retire to the right bank, on the payment of a considerable
sum of money to them. The year 1827 was assigned as the time for their
evacuation, and it is not without sorrow that the Indians find that it
is drawing near; they will relinquish with regret the neighbourhood of
civilized man, although they detest him; and accuse their chiefs of
having betrayed them in making this cession, which, it is said, has
already cost the life of M’Intosh, one of the chiefs who signed the
treaty.
We passed the night at the Indian agency; we had been expected the
evening before by about a hundred Indians, among whom the name of
Lafayette has existed by tradition for fifty years; but the delays we
had met with had exhausted their patience, and they had gone to prepare
for our reception elsewhere. On the second day we had to traverse
thirty-two miles over a road which became more and more difficult. A
storm, such as is never seen in Europe, and which, however, I cannot
pause to describe, now assailed us, and forced us to halt for some
hours. Happily we found a shelter in a cabin built by an American, not
far distant from the road. Some Indian hunters, accustomed, no doubt, to
seek refuge here, were drying their garments around a large fire; we
took our place among them without being known, or attracting any
particular attention. Mine, on the contrary, was strongly excited by
this interview, the first of the kind I had met with. I had heard much
of the manners of these sons of nature, and, like every inhabitant of a
civilized country, I entertained such singular ideas respecting them,
that the slightest of their gestures, and every minutiæ of their dress
and accoutrements, induced an astonishment which the Indians did not
appear to share in seeing us. As far as I could, by signs, I proposed a
multitude of questions, to which they replied by a pantomime, which was
at once expressive and laconic. I had heard much of the apathy of
Indians as a natural faculty, but also singularly augmented in them by
education. I wished to make a few experiments on this point, but did not
know how they would receive them. I provoked one of them by hostile
gestures; but my anger, though tolerably well assumed, did not appear to
excite more emotion than the tricks of a child would have done. He
continued his conversation without attending to me, and his countenance
expressed neither fear nor contempt.
After some other trials of the same kind, always received with the same
calm indifference, I recurred to signs of kindness; I offered to the
Indians a glass of brandy: this succeeded better. They emptied it. I
showed them some pieces of money, which they took without ceremony. I
soon quitted them, and it appeared to me that we separated very good
friends. The termination of the storm now permitted us to resume our
route, and we arrived at a resting place rather better than that of the
preceding evening. This was a group of cabins constructed of logs, and
covered with bark. The owner was an American, whom a reverse of fortune
had forced to take refuge here, where he carried on a lucrative trade
with the Indians by exchanging goods from the coast for furs. His small
farm was composed of some acres in tolerable cultivation, a well
furnished poultry yard, and the dwelling I have spoken of above. On
arrival, we found two Indians seated before his door, one young, the
other middle aged, but both remarkable for their beauty and form. They
were dressed in a short frock, of a light material, fastened around the
body by a wampum belt. Their heads were wrapped with shawls of brilliant
colours, their leggings of buckskin reached above the knee. They arose
on the approach of the general, and saluted him, the youngest, to our
great astonishment, complimenting him in very good English. We soon
learnt that he had passed his youth in college in the United States, but
that he had withdrawn several years before from his benefactor, to
return among his brethren, whose mode of life he preferred to that of
civilized man. The general questioned him much as to the state of the
Indian nations. He replied with much clearness and precision. When the
last treaty of the United States was spoken of, his countenance became
sombre, he stamped on the ground, and, placing his hand upon his knife,
murmured the name of M’Intosh in such a manner, as to make us tremble
for the safety of that chief; and when we appeared to be astonished,
“M’Intosh,” exclaimed he, “has sold the land of his fathers, and
sacrificed us all to his avarice. The treaty he has concluded in our
name, it is impossible to break, but the wretch!” He stopped on making
this violent exclamation, and shortly afterwards quietly entered on some
other topic of conversation.
Hamley, (the name of the young Indian,) when he found we were somewhat
rested, proposed to us to visit his house, which he pointed out to us on
the slope of a hill at a little distance. Two of the governor’s
aides-de-camp and myself accepted the invitation, and followed the two
Indians. On our route they showed to us a fenced enclosure, filled with
deer and fawns, which they called their reserve, and which served them
for food when they had been unsuccessful in the chase. Hamley’s cabin
adjoined this enclosure. We entered it. There was a large fire on the
hearth, and evening having commenced, the whole building was illuminated
by the flame of the burning pine wood. The furniture consisted of two
beds, a table, some rude chairs, whilst wicker baskets, fire arms, and
bows and arrows, with a violin, were hanging on the walls. The whole
arrangement indicated the presence of man in a half civilized state.
Hamley’s companion took down the violin, and handling the instrument
with vigour rather than lightness and grace, played some fragments of
Indian airs, which induced a desire of dancing in Hamley, but whether
from courtesy, or from a wish of inducing a comparison which would
result to his own credit, he begged us to begin. The grave Americans who
accompanied me, excused themselves. Being younger, or less reserved, I
did not wait for a second invitation, and executed some steps of our
national dances; this was all that Hamley desired. I saw him throw off
every thing that might embarrass him, seize a large shawl, and
triumphantly spring into the centre of the apartment, as if he would
say, it is now my turn. His first movements, slow and impassioned,
gradually became animated, his movements, incomparably bolder and more
expressive than those of our opera dancers, soon became so rapid that
the eye could scarcely follow them. In the intervals, or when he halted
for breath, his steps softly beating time to the music, his head gently
inclined, and gracefully following the movements of his pliant body, his
eyes sparkling with an emotion which reddened the coppery hue of his
complexion, the cries that he uttered when he awoke from this reverie in
order to commence his rapid evolutions, had the most striking effect
upon us, which it is impossible to describe.
Two Indian women, whom I afterwards learned were Hamley’s wives,
approached the house, during the time that it resounded with his
exertions, and our plaudits, but they did not enter, and I therefore
merely saw them. They had the usual beauty of this race; their dress was
composed of a long white tunic, and a scarlet drapery thrown over their
shoulders; their long black hair was wholly unconfined. On their neck,
they had a necklace of four or five strings of pearls, and in their
ears, those immense silver rings so generally worn by Indian women. I
believed, from their reserve, that Hamley had forbidden them to enter,
and therefore made no inquiries respecting them. There were also some
negroes about the house, but they did not appear to be slaves. They were
fugitives to whom he had granted an asylum, and who repaid his
hospitality by their labour.
I would willingly have remained several days as Hamley’s guest and
companion in the chase; but we were obliged to continue our journey. We
retired, and the next day, the 31st March, resumed our route. As we
plunged deeper into this country of forests, the Indian soil seemed to
efface from our minds those prejudices which induce civilized man to
endeavour to impose his mode of life on all those nations who still
adhere to primitive habits, and to consider the invasion of districts in
which this pretended barbarity still exists, as a noble and legitimate
conquest. It must, however, be stated, to the praise of the Americans,
that it is not by extermination or war, but by treaties, in which their
intellectual superiority, it is true, exercises a species of gentle
violence, that they pursue their system of aggrandizement against the
Indian tribes to the west and north. With them, civilization is not
sullied by crimes to be compared with those of Great Britain in India,
but in rendering this justice to them, we, at the same time, cannot help
feeling a strong interest in the fate of the unhappy Indians. Thus, in
meeting at every turn the bark cabin of the Creek hunter, now the
habitation of peace and savage yet happy ignorance, we could not think
without sorrow how soon it might be overthrown and replaced by the farm
of the white settler. It was on the banks of the Chatahouche that we met
with the first assemblage of Indians, in honour of the general. A great
number of women and children were to be seen in the woods on the
opposite bank, who uttered cries of joy on perceiving us. The warriors
descended the side of a hill at a little distance, and hastened to that
part of the shore at which we were to disembark. The variety and
singular richness of their costumes presented a most picturesque
appearance. Mr. George Lafayette, who was the first that landed, was
immediately surrounded by men, women, and children, who danced and
leaped around him, touched his hands and clothes with an air of surprise
and astonishment, that caused him almost as much embarrassment as
pleasure. All at once, as if they wished to give their joy a grave and
more solemn expression, they retired, and the men ranged themselves in
front. He who appeared to be the chief of the tribe, gave, by an acute
and prolonged cry, the signal for a kind of salute, which was repeated
by the whole troop, which again advanced towards the shore. At the
moment the general prepared to step on shore, some of the most athletic
seized the small carriage we had with us, and insisted that the general
should seat himself in it, not willing, as they observed, that their
father should step on the wet ground. The general was thus carried in a
kind of palanquin a certain distance from the shore, when the Indian
whom I have spoken of as the chief, approached him and said in English,
that all his brothers were happy in being visited by one who, in his
affection for the inhabitants of America, had never made a distinction
of blood or colour; that he was the honoured father of all the races of
men dwelling on that continent. After the chief had finished his speech,
the other Indians all advanced and placed their right arm on that of the
general, in token of friendship. They would not permit him to leave the
carriage, but dragging it along, they slowly ascended the hill they had
previously left, and on which one of their largest villages was
situated.
During our progress I drew near to the Indian chief; I supposed that as
he spoke English, that he, like Hamley, had been educated in the United
States, and this I found to be the case. He was about 28 years of age,
of a middle height; but the symmetry of his limbs was perfect, his
physiognomy noble, his expression mournful; when he was not speaking he
fixed his large black eyes, shaded by a heavy brow, steadfastly on the
ground. When he told me that he was the eldest son of M’Intosh, I could
not recall, without emotions of sorrow, the imprecations I had heard
poured forth against this chief, on the preceding evening. This, in all
probability, occasioned the air of depression and thoughtfulness I
remarked in the young man; but what I afterwards learned in conversation
with him explained it still more satisfactorily; his mind had been
cultivated at the expense of his happiness. He appreciated the real
situation of his nation, he saw it gradually becoming weaker, and
foresaw its speedy destruction; he felt how much it was inferior to
those which surrounded it, and was perfectly aware that it was
impossible to overcome the wandering mode of life of his people. Their
vicinity to civilization had been of no service to them; on the
contrary, it had only been the means of introducing vices to which they
had hitherto been strangers; he appeared to hope that the treaty which
removed them to another and a desert country, would re-establish the
ancient organization of the tribes, or at least preserve them in the
state in which they now were.
When we arrived at the brow of the hill we perceived the glitter of
helmets and swords; troops were drawn up in line along the road. These
were not Indians; they were civilized men, sent by the state of Alabama
to escort the general. The singular triumphal march to which he had been
obliged to submit, now ceased. The Indians saw with some jealousy the
American escort range themselves round the general; but we approached
the village, and they ran on in order to precede us. We there found them
on our arrival, with their garments thrown off, and prepared to afford
us a sight of their warlike games.
We arrived on a large plain, around which were situated about an hundred
Indian huts, crowned by the rich verdure of the dense thickets; one
house was distinguished for its greater size, it was that of the
American agent. He also kept an inn, and his wife superintended a school
for the instruction of the Indian children. All the men were assembled,
deprived of a part of their dress, their faces painted in a grotesque
manner, and some wearing feathers in their hair, as a mark of
distinction. They then announced to us that there would be a mock fight
in honour of their white father. In fact, we soon perceived them
separate into two divisions, and form two camps at the two extremities
of the place, appoint two leaders, and make preparations for a combat.
The cry that was uttered by each of these troops, and which we were told
was the war-whoop of the Indian tribes, is, perhaps, the most
extraordinary modulation of the human voice that can be conceived, and
the effect it produced on the combatants of all ages, was still more so.
The sport began. They explained the plan to us as follows: Each party
endeavoured to drive a ball beyond a certain mark, and that which
attained this object seven times would be the victor. We soon saw the
combatants, each armed with two long rackets, rush after the light
projectile, spring over each other in order to reach it, seize it in the
air with incredible dexterity, and hurl it beyond the goal. When the
ball was missed by a player, it fell to the ground, when every head was
bent, a scene of great confusion ensued, and it was only after a severe
struggle that the players succeeded in again throwing it up. In the
midst of one of these long combats, whilst all the players were bent
around the ball, an Indian detached himself from the group to some
distance, returned on a run, sprung into the air, and after making
several somersets, threw himself on the shoulders of the other players,
leaped into the circle, seized the ball, and for the seventh time cast
it beyond the mark. This player was M’Intosh. The victory was obtained
by the camp which he commanded; he advanced to receive our
congratulations under a shower of applause from a part of the Indian
women, whilst the wives of the vanquished appeared to be endeavouring to
console them.
The general, after this game, which much amused him, visited the
interior of some of the huts, and the Indian school. When we were ready
to resume our journey, young M’Intosh re-appeared dressed as an
European. He requested permission from the general to accompany him to
Montgomery, where he wished to carry his brother, who was about ten
years of age, in order to place him under the care of a citizen of
Alabama, who had generously offered to educate him. The general
consented to it, and we all set out for Uchee Creek, an American tavern,
situated on the banks of a creek of that name. We arrived at that place
at an early hour, and visited the neighbourhood, which was charming.
Accompanied by M’Intosh, I soon made an acquaintance with the Indians of
that district. We found them exercising with the bow. I wished to try my
skill, M’Intosh likewise armed himself; he had the arm and eye of
William Tell. Some proofs of his skill would scarcely be credited were I
to relate them. I was most struck with the skill, with which, whilst
lying on the ground, he discharged an arrow, which, striking the ground
at a few paces distance, made a slight rebound, and flew to an immense
distance. This is the mode employed by the Indians when they wish to
discharge their arrows to a great distance without discovering
themselves. I tried in vain to accomplish it; each time my arrow,
instead of rebounding, buried itself in the earth.
We returned to Uchee Creek, and met an Indian chief on his way to the
tavern. He was on horseback, with a woman behind him. When he arrived
within a few paces of the house, he dismounted and went forward to
salute the general, and to make some purchases. During this time his
wife remained with the horse, brought it to him when he wished to
depart, held the bridle and stirrup when he mounted, and afterwards
sprung up behind him. I asked my companions if this woman was the wife
of the Indian, and if such was the condition of the females of the
nation. They replied, that in general they were treated as we had seen;
in the agricultural districts they cultivated the ground, among the
hunters they carried the game, the culinary utensils, and other
necessary articles, and thus loaded could travel great distances, that
even maternal cares scarcely exonerated them from these laborious
occupations. However, in the excursions I afterwards made in the
environs of Uchee Creek, the condition of the women did not appear to me
as unhappy as I was led to expect. I saw before almost all the houses
the women sitting in circles, engaged in weaving baskets or mats, and
amusing themselves with the games and exercises of the young men, and I
never remarked any signs of harshness on the part of the men, or of
servile dependence on the part of the women. I was so hospitably
received in all the Indian cabins at Uchee Creek, and the country around
was so beautiful, that it yet appears to me as the most beautiful spot I
ever visited. From Uchee Creek to the cabin of Big Warrior, which is the
nearest resting place, is about a day’s journey, through a country
inhabited by Indians. We several times met parties of them, and were
greatly assisted by them in extricating ourselves from dangerous places
in the road, for the storm had encumbered them, and swelled the streams.
On one of these occasions, the general received a touching specimen of
the veneration these sons of nature held him in. One of the torrents we
were to cross had risen above the unnailed wooden bridge over which the
carriage of the general was to proceed. What was our astonishment, on
arriving at the stream, to find a score of Indians, who, holding each
other by the hand, and breast deep in water, marked the situation of the
bridge by a double line. We were well pleased at receiving this succour,
and the only recompense demanded by the Indians, was to have the honour
of taking the general by the hand, whom they called their white father,
the envoy of the Great Spirit, the great warrior from France, who came
in former days to free them from the tyranny of the English. M’Intosh,
who interpreted their discourse to us, also expressed to them the
general’s and our own good wishes. The village of the Big Warrior is
thus named on account of the extraordinary courage and great stature of
the Indian who was its chief. We arrived there at a late hour; the chief
had been dead some time; the council of old men had assembled to name
his successor, and had designated one of his sons, remarkable for the
same strength of body, as worthy of filling his place. This son had much
conversation with Mr. George Lafayette; he expressed himself in English,
and astonished us by the singular apathy with which he spoke of the
death of his father. But the Indians have not the slightest idea of what
we call grief and mourning. Death does not appear an evil to them,
either as regards the person who has quitted this life, or those who are
thus separated from him. The son of Big Warrior only appeared to regret
that the death of his father, which had occurred a short time before,
did not permit him to dispose of his inheritance, and to present one of
the dresses of this celebrated chief to the general.
We only passed one night with the family of Big Warrior; the next day we
arrived at Line Creek, that is to say, at the frontier of the Indian
country. We were received there by an American who had married the
daughter of a Creek chief, and had adopted the Indian mode of life. He
was a Captain Lewis, formerly in the army of the United States; his
house was commodious, and was furnished with elegance for an Indian
cabin. Captain Lewis, who is distinguished for his knowledge and
character, appeared to us to exercise great influence over the Indians;
he had assembled a great number, well armed and mounted, to act as an
escort to the general. One of the neighbouring chiefs came at the head
of a deputation to compliment the general. His discourse, which appeared
studied, was rather long, and was translated to us by an interpreter. He
commenced by high eulogiums on the skill and courage the general had
formerly displayed against the English; the most brilliant events of
that war was recalled and recounted in a poetical and somewhat pompous
strain. He terminated somewhat in these words: “Father, we had long
since heard that you had returned to visit our forests and our cabins;
you, whom the Great Spirit formerly sent over the great lake to destroy
those enemies of man, the English, clothed in bloody raiment. Even the
youngest amongst us will say to their descendants, that they have
touched your hand and seen your figure, they will also behold you, for
you are protected by the Great Spirit from the ravages of age—you may
again defend us if we are attacked.”
The general replied, through the interpreter, to these compliments of
the Indians; he again counselled them to be prudent and temperate;
recommended their living in harmony with the Americans, and to always
consider them as their friends and brothers; he told them that he should
always think of them, and would pray for the welfare of their families
and the glory of their warriors. We now directed our course to the
stream which separates the Creek country from the state of Alabama. The
Indians under Captain Lewis, mounted on small horses as light and nimble
as deer, some armed with bows and arrows, and others with tomahawks,
followed us in a long file, the rear of which was hidden in the darkness
of the forest. On arriving at the brink of the stream, they turned back,
uttering loud cries; some of the chiefs, however, bid us a final adieu
as we left their territory.
We passed the night on the banks of Line Creek, in a small village of
the same name, almost entirely inhabited by persons whom the love of
gain had assembled from all parts of the globe, in the midst of these
deserts, to turn to their own profit the simplicity and above all the
new wants of the unfortunate natives. These avaricious wretches, who
without scruple poison the tribes with intoxicating liquors, and
afterwards ruin them by duplicity and overreaching, are the most cruel
and dangerous enemies of the Indian nations, whom, at the same time,
they accuse of being robbers, idlers, and drunkards. If the limits to
which I had determined to restrain my narrative had not already been
overstepped, I could easily show, that these vices with which they
reproach the children of the forest, are the result of the approach of
civilization, and also in how many instances they are surpassed by the
whites in cruelty and want of faith. I will content myself with citing
but two facts from the thousands, which are an eternal stigma on men so
proud of the whiteness of their skin, and who call themselves civilized.
A short time since, a trader, living in the state of Alabama, went into
the Creek country for the purposes of his business. Having met with one
of the chiefs of the nation, he bargained with him for peltries; but, as
the conditions he proposed were all disadvantageous to the Indian, to
induce him the more readily to consent to them, he intoxicated him with
whiskey. After the bargain was concluded, they set out together for the
nearest village. On the way, the Indian reflected on what he had done,
and perceived that he had been duped; he wished to enter into some other
arrangement with the trader, but the discussion soon caused a violent
quarrel, which ended by the Indian striking his adversary so violent a
blow with his tomahawk, as to stretch him dead at his feet. Twenty-four
hours afterwards, on the first complaint of the whites, the murderer was
arrested by his own tribe, who, after having assembled their great
council, pronounced him guilty of a base assassination, in thus having
killed a white who was without arms or means of defence. They then
conducted him to the banks of Line Creek, where they had requested the
whites to assemble to witness the justice they rendered them, and shot
him in their presence.
The evening of our arrival at Line Creek, I went into a store to make
some purchases, and whilst there, an Indian entered and asked for twelve
and a half cents worth of whiskey. The owner of the shop received the
money, and told him to wait a moment, as the concourse of buyers was
very great. The Indian waited patiently for a quarter of an hour, after
which he demanded his whiskey. The trader appeared astonished, and told
him if he wanted whiskey he must first pay him for it. “I gave you
twelve and a half cents a few moments since,” said the Indian. The poor
wretch had scarcely pronounced these words, when the trader sprung
forward, seized him by the ears, and, assisted by one of his men,
brutally turned him out of the shop. I saw him give the money, and was
convinced of the honesty of the one and the rascality of the other. I
felt strongly indignant, and notwithstanding the delicacy of my
situation, I would have stept forward to interfere, but the whole scene
passed so rapidly that I hardly had time to say a few words. I went out
to see what the Indian would do. I found him a few steps from the house,
where he had been checked by his melancholy emotions. An instant
afterwards, he crossed his arms on his breast, and hurried towards his
own country with rapid strides. When he arrived on the margin of the
stream, he plunged in and crossed it without appearing to perceive that
the water reached above his knees. On attaining the other side, he
stopped, turned round, and elevating his eyes towards heaven, he
extended his hand towards the territory of the whites, in a menacing
manner, and uttered some energetic exclamations in his own language.
Doubtless, at that moment he invoked the vengeance of heaven on his
oppressors; a vengeance that would have been just, but his prayer was in
vain. Poor Indians! you are pillaged, beaten, poisoned or excited by
intoxicating liquors, and then you are termed savages! Washington said,
“Whenever I have been called upon to decide between an Indian and a
white man, I have always found that the white had been the aggressor.”
Washington was right.
The conduct of the American government is of an entirely different
character, as regards the Indian tribes. It not only protects them
against individual persecution, and sees that the treaties made with
them by the neighbouring states are not disadvantageous to them, and are
faithfully adhered to, but it also provides for their wants with a
paternal solicitude. It is not a rare circumstance for congress to vote
money and supplies to those tribes, whom a deficient harvest or
unforeseen calamity have exposed to famine.
We quitted Line Creek on the 3d of April, and the same day General
Lafayette was received at Montgomery, by the inhabitants of that
village, and by the governor of the state of Alabama, who had come from
Cahawba with all his staff and a large concourse of citizens, who had
assembled from great distances to accompany him. We passed the next day
at Montgomery, and left it on the night of the 4th and 5th, after a
ball, at which we had the pleasure of seeing Chilli M’Intosh dance with
several beautiful women, who certainly had little idea that they were
dancing with a savage. The parting of M’Intosh with the general was a
melancholy one. He appeared overwhelmed with sinister presentiments.
After having quitted the general and his son, he met me in the
courtyard; he stopped, placed my right arm on his, and elevating his
left hand towards heaven, “Farewell,” said he, “always accompany our
father and watch over him. I will pray to the Great Spirit also to watch
over him, and give him a speedy and safe return to his children in
France. His children are our brothers; he is our father. I hope that he
will not forget us.” His voice was affected, his countenance sad, and
the rays of the moon falling obliquely on his dark visage, gave a
solemnity to his farewell with which I was deeply moved. I wished to
reply to him, but he quitted me precipitately and disappeared.
At two o’clock in the morning, we embarked on the Alabama, on board the
steam-boat Anderson, which had been richly and commodiously prepared for
the general, and provided with a band of musicians sent from New
Orleans. All the ladies of Montgomery accompanied us on board, where we
took leave of them; and the moment the reports of the artillery
announced our departure, immense fires were lighted on the shore. Our
voyage as far as the Tombigbee was delicious. It is difficult to imagine
any thing more romantic than the elevated, gravelly, and oftentimes
wooded shores of the Alabama. During the three days we were on it, the
echoes repeated the patriotic airs executed by our Louisiania musicians.
We stopped one day at Cahawba, where the officers of government of the
state of Alabama had, in concert with the citizens, prepared
entertainments for General Lafayette, as remarkable for their elegance
and good taste, as touching by their cordiality and the feelings of
which they were the expression. Among the guests with whom we sat down
to dinner, we found some countrymen whom political events had driven
from France. They mentioned to us, that they had formed part of the
colony at Champ D’Asile. They now lived in a small town they had founded
in Alabama, to which they had given the name Gallopolis. I should judge
that they were not in a state of great prosperity. I believe their
European prejudices, and their inexperience in commerce and agriculture,
will prevent them from being formidable rivals of the Americans for a
length of time.
Cahawba, the seat of government of Alabama, is a flourishing town, whose
population, although as yet small, promises to increase rapidly, from
its admirable situation at the confluence of the Cahawba and Alabama.
The state of Alabama, which, like Mississippi, was formerly part of
Georgia, and with which its early history is intimately connected,
received a territorial governor from congress in 1817, and was admitted
into the federation as an independent state in 1816. Its population,
which in 1810 was only 10,000, had risen to 67,000 in 1817, and is at
present 128,000. In this estimate of the population I do not include the
Indian tribes of Choctaws, Cherokees, and Chickasaws, residing in the
east and west of the state.
From Cahawba we descended the river to Claiborne, a small fort on the
Alabama. The general was induced by the intreaties of the inhabitants to
remain a few hours, which were passed in the midst of the most touching
demonstrations of friendship. Mr. Dellet, who had been appointed by his
fellow citizens to express their sentiments, acquitted himself with an
eloquence we were astonished to meet in a spot, which, but a short time
before, only resounded with the savage cry of the Indian hunter.
A little below Claiborne, I remarked that the banks of the Alabama were
much lower; when we had passed the mouth of the Tombigbee, we found
ourselves in the middle of low marshy meadows, but apparently very
fertile. Finally, we arrived on the 7th of April, in Mobile bay, at the
bottom of which is situated a city of the same name.
The distance we had traversed in three days, and which was more than
three hundred miles, on account of the windings of the river, formerly
required a month or six weeks in ascending, and half the time in
descending. This shows what a prodigious revolution the application of
steam to navigation will effect in the commercial relations of a
country.
The city of Mobile, which is the oldest establishment in the state, is
very advantageously situated for commerce, on a beautiful plain,
elevated more than twenty feet above the general level of the water.
This town had languished for a long time, under the despotism of the
Spanish inquisition, and the wretched administration of the French
government. It has often been devastated by the yellow fever. At
present, all its wounds are healed; a few years of liberty have sufficed
to render it prosperous. When the Americans took possession, it did not
contain more than two hundred houses; at present, its population is more
than 1800 souls. Formerly it scarcely exported four hundred bales of
cotton; this year it has despatched upwards of sixty thousand.
The arrival of the steam-boat in the bay, was announced by discharges of
artillery from Fort Conde; and when we reached the wharf at Mobile, the
general found the committee of the corporation and all the population
assembled to receive him. He was conducted to the centre of the town
under a triumphal arch, the four corners of which were adorned with the
flags of Mexico, the republics of South America and Greece. In the
centre was that of the United States. Here he was complimented by Mr.
Garrow in the name of the city, and in presence of the municipal body.
He was then led to an immense hall, expressly constructed for his
reception. He there found all the ladies, to whom he was presented by
the governor; after which Mr. Webb addressed him in the name of the
state. In his speech, the orator retraced with much truth, the debased
situation into which despotism and ignorance had formerly plunged the
city of Mobile, and the rich territory that surrounded it; he then
painted the rapid and increasing progress that liberty and republican
institutions had produced in the arts, in industry and commerce, which
had now rendered these very spots rich and prosperous; he attributed
this happy change to the glorious and triumphant exertions of the
revolutionary patriots, whose courage and constancy had been sustained
by the noble example of Lafayette; and he terminated by expressing his
regret that the efforts of the French patriots had not resulted in
consequences equally beneficial to their country.
In returning his thanks to the orator and the citizens of Alabama, the
general took a rapid survey of the struggles for liberty in which he had
borne so important a part, and concluded by expressing his deep
conviction of the necessity of the closest and most intimate union among
the states.
The inhabitants of Mobile, hoping that the general would pass some days
with them, had made great preparations for entertainments to him, but
the most part were rendered useless. Limited in his time, he was obliged
to yield to the solicitations of the deputation from New Orleans, who
pressed him to depart the next morning. Nevertheless he accepted a
public dinner, a ball and a masonic celebration; after which we went on
board the vessel which was to take him to New Orleans, to obtain a few
hours of that repose, which a day filled with so many pleasant emotions
had rendered absolutely necessary.