A DREAM OF EMPIRE

The fall of Napoleon at Waterloo, created consternation in the ranks of his adherents. In rejoining him after his return from Elba, they had staked all on his attempt to regain the empire. When he fell, his supporters were in a worse plight than was he. A number of the best were shot, among them Marshal Ney, while many others fled penniless to different parts of the earth, among whom was a large and respectable body who came to America. These included Marshal Grouchy, who was charged with being the occasion of the defeat at Waterloo, and others whose names will appear in this narrative. This body of refugees sailed for America, where they hoped to build a miniature empire in a remote quarter of the American continent, with such construction that while they would be able to imitate their life in France, by having their own local laws, they would at the same time bring themselves into practical conformity to the const.i.tution of the United States. We shall see how fully their dream was realized.

Once in America, they elicited the aid and co-operation of a Dr. Brown, of Kentucky, who had spent much time in France, knew the French people, and was endeared to them. Dr. Brown acted as an interagent between the French and the Federal Government in the introduction of the cause of the refugees. That which they sought was the utmost confines of western occupation, for two reasons, one of which was because of the cheapness of the land, and the other was because of its segregation. At that time the Tombigbee was that western boundary. Here was to be established a new France, with its growth of olive trees and grape vines. To the ardent French this was a rosy dream, and on these western borders they saw in vision, mansions and palaces, s.p.a.cious grounds, and the affluence of gay society to which they were accustomed in their own brilliant capital on the Seine. Dreams like these heartened the host and eclipsed all care and worry, and banished the p.r.i.c.k of ills to which they were destined to be subjected. Arriving at Philadelphia, they lingered for many months during the negotiations with the American Government for a domain of land on the distant Tombigbee. They commissioned a French statesman, Nicholas S.

Parmentier, as their agent to consummate the plan. There was accordingly adopted a bill by the American congress in March, 1818, granting to these refugees four townships fronting on the Black Warrior River, in the present County of Marengo. This land was sold at $2 an acre, payable within fourteen years, provided the olive and the vine were produced. The land was divided by themselves, as a stock company, each one of the three hundred and fourteen families taking quant.i.ties of from eighty to four hundred and eighty acres. In contemplation of a town to be built, there was a.s.signed additionally to each head of a family, a lot within the proposed city, and one on the suburbs.

With this arrangement completed, the novel colony was to sail at once and occupy it. Accordingly a schooner, the McDonough, was chartered to convey the company, numbering about one thousand five hundred in all, to Mobile, when they were to make their way up the river to their final destination.

With their varied household effects, the vivacious French set sail from Philadelphia in April, 1818, and for more than a month, slowly sailed down the coast of the Atlantic.

During the following May, late one afternoon, Lieutenant Beal, the commander of Fort Bowyer, near Mobile, saw in the distance, a vessel wrestling with a gale which was sweeping that quarter of the sea. Through his gla.s.s, the commander could see the direction in which the vessel was bearing, while sorely tossed by the wind, which was blowing at a fearful velocity. The captain of the McDonough had a chart which was out of date, and Beal saw that the vessel was heading rapidly toward danger. He fired a cannon as an alarm gun, hoping thereby to arrest the erroneous course of the vessel. The day was now far advanced, and darkness settled over the face of the sea. Beal took the precaution to erect lights along the sh.o.r.e, and some time after night, he heard the signals of distress from the unfortunate McDonough.

While the wind was still very high and fierce, Beal did not think that the vessel should be left to its fate, and called for those who would volunteer to go with him in as large boat as they had at command, to the rescue of those on the vessel. The McDonough had struck, and was lying in the thick gloom at the mercy of the waves, in the sand into which an obsolete chart had directed the captain. Accompanied by five brave men, Beal plunged into the darkness with the boat, and guided by the dim lights of the vessel, he was enabled to reach it somewhat after midnight.

Everything on board the vessel was in commotion, as every fresh wave threatened to engulf it, but Beal coolly proposed to save, if he could, the women and children, whom he crowded into his boat and set out on his return toward the fort through the dense gloom. After much struggle the boat was safely brought to the fort, and the women and children were saved. Luckily the vessel was later released by the waves from its perilous condition in the sand, and in the early morning was washed into deeper water, and though crippled by the accident, was saved, and in due time pulled into port at Fort Bowyer. There was great glee and sport among the French after it was all over, as they would joke each other with that which happened. They soon forgot the seriousness of the situation to which they were only a few hours before exposed, and gave themselves again to jollity and song.

In expression of their just grat.i.tude to the brave lieutenant who had been the occasion of so much timely aid, they proposed to take him with them to Mobile, and give him a banquet. This was accordingly done, vivacity ran high amidst sparkling wines and merriment unconfined, and the gay throng in the banquet hall little resembled a colony driven by disaster from their native land, and so recently exposed to death.

At Mobile, the McDonough was dismissed, and plans were at once adopted to provide flatboats and barges to convey the company up the winding Tombigbee to their future home among the wilds of Western Alabama. Of their future experiences we shall hear later.

THE TRIP AND SETTLEMENT

It was a gay and mirthful throng that was gathered on board the rough flatboats, at the wharf of Mobile, on the morning of the departure of the French for their settlement far up along the Tombigbee. One would have thought that it was a huge picnic party instead of a people fleeing from oppression, with all the novelties of an untamed region to be grappled with. Distinguished French generals were among them, men who had for years shared in the b.l.o.o.d.y campaigns of Napoleon. There were also eminent men of science, educators, merchants, and statesmen, with their wives and children. The delicate French women still wearing their Parisian styles, and beautifully dressed children, young men and women, and a few servants const.i.tuted the mult.i.tude now slowly pulling out from Mobile for a long and torturous trip up the river. More incongruous conditions can scarcely be imagined.

In those primitive days before the use of steam, the barges had to be heavily dragged against the upstream current by the use of long poles planted into the bank of the stream from the stern of the vessel, while at the same time long poles with iron beaks were used from the bow, by being fastened to trees or projecting rocks. The proceeding was torturous enough, but nothing dampened the ardency of these effervescent French, and every incident was turned into a fresh outburst of jollity, and seriousness was tossed to the winds.

At night, they would build their campfires on the bank of the river in the edge of the primitive forests, and after the evening meal, the violin, guitar and the accordion would be brought into requisition to repel dull care, and regale themselves on the tedious pa.s.sage. The wild flowers were in bloom, and the early fruits were already ripening in the woods, and not infrequently the company would stop at some inviting point and spend a day picking flowers and fruits, romping the woods, and frolicking.

Thus wore away two or three months during which they were making their way from Mobile to the present site of Demopolis. They were not without competent guides, of course, to direct them to the point of their future homes on the wild prairies, and when the junction of the Tombigbee and the Black Warrior was reached they landed on the white, chalky banks to begin life on the frontier. Along the bank for some distance were strewn their household goods, of every conceivable article--oval-topped trunks with big bra.s.s tacks, carpetbags, chests of divers colors and of varied size, bundles carefully wrapped, demijohns, military saddles, swords, epaulettes, sashes, spurs, bandboxes, violins, guitars, and much else that made up the medley of more than three hundred families, who were about to enter on a wilderness life on the prairies of West Alabama.

They had provided themselves with a few tents, which were promptly brought into use, while improvised habitations were at first constructed of the tall canes which grew wild along the river, and of the lithe saplings cut from the clumps of trees which dotted here and there the prairie over. The prairies were now in their floral beauty, while the young, tender cane was just springing, undermatted with luxuriant gra.s.s, with here and there a dash of wild strawberries. In dry weather the surface of the land was flinty with abounding fissures, while during the rainy season it was converted into a soft, waxy, black mud. These bright and pretty French women, used to the gilded salons and festive scenes of Paris, found a complete reversal of conditions in this wild and inhospitable region, but their native joviality never forsook them. Novelties and mistakes were turned into laughter, and roughness into cheeriness. They would promptly adjust themselves to conditions, and would meet them with burst after burst of jollity. They shared in the sentiment expressed by the trivial John Gay, who wrote:

"Life is a jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, and now I know it."

Donning their dainty garbs, these unconquerable French women did not hesitate to cook, wash, iron, hoe in their gardens and yards, or join their husbands in efforts of a more serious nature, in tillage, and in the erecting of log houses. Their lightness of heart was a cordial in the conditions of actual gloom which sometimes confronted them, but they would never repine, and would decline to take conditions seriously.

The personnel of this novel colony was most interesting. Marshal Groughy was cla.s.sed by them with that segment of society called by Mr. Roosevelt "undesirable citizens," because of the affair at Waterloo, and was left behind in Philadelphia, though he was one of the allottees of the land procured, but got another to occupy it for him. The stigma of the defeat of Waterloo was his, and this made him most unpopular. But Count Desnoettes, who was a cavalry general in Napoleon's army, and a great favorite with the Emperor, was of the colony. Napoleon loved Desnoettes because of his fighting qualities, and because of his exceeding attractiveness of person. He accompanied Bonaparte on the memorable retreat from Russia, and when the French officers were gathered at Fontainebleau, on the eve of Napoleon's departure to Elba, and all were weeping, he embraced Desnoettes, saying that he would avail himself of this means of bidding all farewell.

Penier was a distinguished statesmen; Colonel Raoul was a distinguished cavalry fighter, who had accompanied Napoleon in his exile to Elba, and afterward led the advance guard on the return of the Emperor to France after escaping from his island imprisonment. Madame Raoul was a handsome Italian woman, a native of Naples. Cluis was one of the aids of Marshal Lefebvre; Chaudoin was a French poet of note; Clausel was a count; L'Allemand was a lieutenant general of artillery under Napoleon; Lackonel was a savant, who was at the head of the department of education, in the empire, during the regime of Napoleon, together with others of equal note.

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 gra.s.sy 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 a.s.sailant, but the a.s.sailant 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 st.u.r.diness 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 unsurpa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sage, 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 gra.s.ses, 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.