^ \
A'-T'-V '•■■-,
\ *
/
>
\
the southwest;
ITS HISTORY, CHARACTER AND PROSPECTS:
AN ORATION
BEFORE THE
dBrosopIjic ^otictjr of % ^tntfeershg of Alabama,
DECEMBER 7, 1839.
A
I
\
V
ORATION.
Gentlemen of the Erosophic Society:
Around this altar, consecrated to the Muses, you
have again assembled to celebrate the festivities of
Literature. From the avocations of private life, you
have called me to act an important part in the cere-
monies of the time. Bossuet, the first of French
pulpit orators, tells us that it was his invariable cus-
tom, when preparing for the delivery of a public
address, to replenish his mind, by a close study of
the productions of the master spirit of ancient learn-
ing — and that, for such occasions, he always re-illu-
minated " his lamp at the torch of Homer." If this
was the practice of one of the chief of that galaxy of
inte actual luminaries, which diffused the mild and
humanizing graces of literature over the turbulent
reign of Louis the Fourteenth, — how much more does
14 ORATIONS.
it behove an humble individual, in arising to address
an American audience — an audience peculiarly suited
by their manners and customs, their political and lit-
erary institutions, and by all their habits of thought,
to criticise and appreciate what may be said, — and
many of whom are fresh from the investigation of the
inimitable models of classic lore, — how much more
does it behove, I say, such an individual, under such
circumstances, to prepare his mind, with the utmost
circumspection and care. With a due sense of this
high obligation, Gentlemen, I should have answered
your very complimentary request to pronounce your
Anniversary Discourse, with a prompt but a grateful
refusal, had I not been urged by other, and, to me,
more interesting considerations. There are, in my
mind, a thousand remembrances clustering around
this spot, which will ever be treasured and dear.
Here the most blissful period of my life was passed;
and, as I now look back, through the vista of years,
to that brief moonlight track upon the waters of
youth, its incidents pass before me, like the creations
of a dream, and the feelings it produces are akin to
the holiest raptures of poetry. Such are the emo-
tions, always, excited by a return to the intellectual
home of our boyhood, and the hope of their renewal
is one of the principal reasons that has brought me
before you to-day.
But, Gentlemen, I should ill requite the confidence
you have reposed in me, and should do violence to my
own feelings, if, upon this occasion, I were merely to
attempt to amuse you with rhapsodies of sentiment,
THE SOUTHWEST. 15
or to scatter in your path the luxuriant roses that
bloom in the Edens of Fancy. We live in a practical
age, and are met for practical purposes. The long
course of education which you are pursuing, and which
to some of you, so far as its collegiate character is
concerned, will soon cease, — though, to the loving
heart, its occupations may appear more like elysian
raptures than the dull realities of life, — and though
flowers may hang upon every branch, and grateful
fruits delight the taste — is intended but as a prepara-
tion and a training for the positions you are to occupy
in life, — but to enable you to discharge the duties
which will devolve upon you, with honor to yourselves
and with benefit to your country. It should be the
great moral lesson of your tuition that those duties
will be aggregated and enforced by the advantages
you receive.
The Society, within whose circle we are now met, is
purely practical in its objects. As Lovers of Wisdom,
you do not seek merely for those gratifications that
die in the enjoyment, — or for incidents to variegate
the tedium of study. Yours is no " Beefsteak Club,"
or " King of Clubs," — such as the dissipated literati of
Europe have been wont to encourage, solely to stimu-
late the lassitude of the senses. Intellectual and moral
improvement — improvement of those faculties which
are to be the bones and sinews of mental manhood —
these are your views. Eloquence and Logic — that
logic which can always unerringly tell right from
wrong, through all ramifications and mysticism — and
that eloquence which can present the deductions of
16 ORATIONS.
the intellect or the emotions of the heart, in a manner
at once clear, cogent and pleasing — are surely objects
worthy the attention of any man, however utilitarian,
whose desire is to be anything more than a mere ma-
chine in life.
A superficial spectator of the proceedings of this
Anniversary might regard them but as the constitu-
ents of some transient pageant. Not so : if I have
read aright the motives which have brought us hither.
Not so : unless I greatly misappreciate the effects of
such celebrations. They look to something beyond
the mere rhetoric and ceremonial of the time. They
are to exercise no unimportant influence, as they are
to furnish a permanent remembrance for your future
lives. The pomps and the processions, — the motley
crowd, with the sage faces of manhood and the smiling
eyes of beauty — what is said by the eloquent represen-
tative of your sister society — and even what is uttered
by your own unworthy speaker, are to be blended
together, and are to pass to some extent, in more than
one instance, into the composition of that strange
piece of mosaic work — the human mind.
These considerations, Gentlemen, warn me that it is
my duty to endeavor to make the part assigned me in
the festivity, productive of some practical good. With
this purpose in view, — with the recollection that I am
called to speak in the high cause of Letters and Mor-
als, — with a due consideration of the intellectual em-
ployments in which you have been, hitherto, engaged —
of those, which, are hereafter, to occupy your atten-
tion, and of that theatre, upon which it is your destiny
THE SOUTHWEST. 17
to move ; not as mere automata in a show, but as
intellectual and moral agents, around each of whom a
circle of influence is to be diffused, broader or narrower,
according to your own self-formed characters, — it has
appeared to me that there is no subject which presents
such immediate and powerful claims upon your atten-
tion — the strong claims of practical usefulness and
philosophic dignity, combined at the same time with
novelty and entertainment, — as some reflections upon
the History, Character, and Prospects of the
Southwest — that particular portion of the Union,
in which it has pleased a beneficent Providence, to
cast your lots, and to the improvement of whose insti-
tutions, and the developement of whose resources, it
will be your duty, no matter what professions you may
pursue in life, severally to contribute your parts. It
is a subject too in which the audience here assembled
to witness your celebration, have as great an interest
as you, whether considered as merely intelligent or as
operative beings. To this subject I, therefore, respect-
fully invite your attention, and, if in its treatment I
should appear dull and, tedious, I beg you charitably
to think, in the quaint language of Selden, in his pre-
face to Drayton's Poly-Olbion, " that it is not so much
the fault of him that speaketh, or of the subject he
handleth, as of that proclivitie of the human temper,
to be aweary of that which is instructive, because it
seemeth dry, by addressing the coolnesse of the reason,
rather than the fervoure of the fancie."
When the rapt prophet of olden time was led by the
hand of Divinity, to the summit of the sacred moun-
18 ORATIONS.
tain, and, before his wonder-stricken eyes, the rich
territories of the Promised Land, with all its scenes of
magnificence and beauty, its tall forests undulating to
the breezes of a golden summer, its inviting vallies,
with their intersecting streams and embosomed lakes, —
the blue engirdling mountains on the one hana and
the flashing sea upon the other — all spread out like
some great breathing picture — the scene presented, and
the emotions produced, apart from the holiness of their
origin, could not have been widely different, or more
inspiring, than would have met the eye and moved the
heart of an intelligent spectator, if he could, an hun-
dred years ago, have been placed upon some eminence
overlooking the whole Southwest ; and all its magnifi-
cence, its fertility, its serene beauty, its conveniences
for the purposes of civilized man, have been presented
to his mind's eye at once. Our entire country has been
characterized as possessing natural advantages superior
to any other part of the world. Bishop Berkeley, in
that celebrated poem, in which he foretells the great-
ness of these " happy climes," bases his prophecy upon
such advantages, and tells us that, here
" The force of art, by nature, seems outdone,
And fancied beauties by the true !"
But it is upon our section of the Union that these
blessings are most amply bestowed. Beginning upon
the eastern border of our State, and proceeding west
to the farthest line of Louisiana, we pass over perhaps
the most beautiful and fertile region that the sun looks
upon in his diurnal travel. Its territories are every-
THE SOUTHWEST. 19
where, and in every direction, irrigated and linked
together by noble and navigable rivers, which serve not
merely to fructify the soil, but to convey its produc-
tions to safe and commodious harbors. Through its
western portion, that mighty stream, called in the
figurative language of the aborigines of this country,
The Father of Waters, after passing through almost
every latitude, and demanding, from regions well-nigh
as remote from each other " as Indus from the pole,"
the tribute of their fountains, — discharges its accumu-
lated waters, like a flowing ocean, into the Mediterra-
nean of America.
This whole region is marked by a fertility of soil
almost unparalleled. Most of those productions of
agriculture, which mainly minister to the wants of
man, here find a genial home. But it is chiefly in the
production of two of the greatest staples of commerce
which, by the by, give to the Southwest one of its
strongest features of peculiarity, that this mighty
region is distinguished : the Sugar Cane, on the one
hand, which furnishes a necessary beverage, and one of
the greatest luxuries of life, for countless thousands, —
and the Cotton Plant, on the other, which has perhaps
contributed more than any other article of agriculture,
to advance the cause of civilization, to facilitate and
strengthen the pacific intercourse of nations, to afford
employment and subsistence to the destitute, to recom-
pense industry with opulence, and to alleviate the ills
which are the inheritance of humanity.
When we add to these things, the blessings of a
climate which is always genial and agreeable, whether
20 ORATIONS.
viewed in the regal splendor of its summer days, or the
milder manifestations of its moonlight evenings ; which
is subject to little of that oppressiveness that belongs
to those lands which lie directly beneath the path of
the sun, and to none of the chilling rigors of northern
latitudes, and when we remember, that with the
exception of a few points upon the seaboard, " the wing
of life's best angel, Health, is ever on the breeze," —
we have a correct idea of the physical characteristics
of that section of the Union in which we reside.
The name of the Southwest, with a certain sec-
tionality of character corresponding thereto, is given
to this portion of the Confederacy — embracing the
States of Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana — from
this pervading similarity of physical condition; from
its geographical position upon the Gulf of Mexico, in-
to which all its waters discharge themselves; from
the pursuits of its population, with their resulting
moral and intellectual peculiarities; and to some ex-
tent, from the unity and unique character of its early
history. To some considerations upon the character
of that History, let me now, Gentlemen, direct your
attention.
The early annals of almost every country, particu-
larly of the States of antiquity, is involved in impene-
trable obscurity. To account for their origin, they
are compelled to resort to the dim lights of some be-
wildered tradition, or, as in the case of that mightiest
demonstration of political power of the olden world —
" the Demon City," as she has been called by Herder
— to create some wild fiction, which comes well nigh
THE SOUTHWEST. 2i
blending the incipients of their greatness with the de-
pravity of a brutal connection. In vain has the lumi-
nous pencil of Livy, or the glowing pictures of the
scholar of Halicarnassus, over whose immortal pro-
duction the nine Muses are said specially to have pre-
sided, endeavored to throw around their primeval con-
dition the colorings of historic truth. All is vague
uncertainty or distorting gloom. Not so with the
early history of the American States. Their founda-
tions were wrought in the broad light of an illumina-
ted age, and their story has passed with all its truth-
ful lineaments, into the possession of "the preserving
page/' And yet to this general and enobling certain-
ty there is one important exception. I mean the early
history of those States encircling the northern shores
of the Gulf of Mexico. Differing widely from the
character of the European adventurers who first dis-
covered and took possession of this territory; the
memorials of whose settlements, progress, enterprises
and intercourse with the natives, commercial, military
and religious, are scattered through the rare and an-
tiquated volumes of two foreign languages; and pos-
sessing but little sympathy for a race so diverse from
their own, in manners, customs and institutions, and
who, it is believed, have exercised no influence upon
the character and destiny of our country; the people
of the United States have silently assented to the be-
hests of their historians, and have permitted these
things to be forgotten. Even that population, which
now fill the places once held by the French and the
Spanish, know little or nothing of their history, and
22 ORATIONS.
ever and anon, as they stumble over some of the relics
of these vanished dwellers of our territories, the cry
of eureka is raised; the " curiosity" becomes a nine-
days' wonder; and is perhaps, in the end, transmitted
to the Museum of your University, as a specimen of
Indian art. To dissipate this ignorance scarcely any-
thing has been done. A few general facts, as in the
pages of Bancroft and Kamsey, have been collected
and given to the world, and that is all. The whole
history of the Southwest remains to be written.
And whoever shall go to the work philosophically, —
who shall delve, amid their quaint and musty tomes, for
the records of French and Spanish colonization and
settlement; and shall collect and embody the scattered
materials for such a history; apart from conferring a
permanent benefit upon the literature of his country,
will possess the honor of being like Coleridge's Ancient
Mariner, when entering the Pacific, well nigh
" The first that ever burst
Into that silent sea !"
Having frequently, Gentlemen, in the course of a
miscellaneous reading, — under the belief that there is
no merely theoretical knowledge, which it is more cred-
itable to a man to possess, than the history of his own
country, and with the conviction that, if — as Lord
Bolingbroke has told us — "History is Philosophy teach-
ing by example," that philosophy can be best learned
from those pages which show us man in his most indi-
vidual capacity, and under the most novel and strik-
ing phases of existence; directed my attention to this
THE SOUTHWEST. 23
but partially explored field of Southwestern history;
I may be enabled to point out, for your future inves-
tigation and improvement, some of its more prominent
and interesting features. The present occasion, how-
ever, will permit us but to take a hurried and super-
ficial glance at the subject. Such a glance will suffice
to show its peculiar and romantic character, and the
rich fund of historic materials which lie all unappro-
priated and daily perishing. For the sake of order
and conciseness, we will pursue the natural divisions
of the subject into general periods.
I. Two hundred and ninety-nine years ago, — near a
century before the Pilgrims had landed at Plymouth,
or the Cavaliers at Jamestown, and within fifty years
of the discovery of the continent by Columbus, — upon
an extensive plain, near the junction of two of our
principal rivers, in the very heart of this State, might
have been seen collected two large and hostile armies.
One of them is composed of the native dwellers in the
surrounding forests, to the number of ten thousand,
painted and plumed and armed, according to their
immemorial customs. The other, though smaller in
number, presents the more regular appearance, and
powerful implements of European warfare. They are
engaged in deadly battle. For hours they fight hand
to hand, with all the fury of demons. At length the
savage hordes are driven back by the more systematic
valor of their opponents. They fly for refuge to a
city which appears in the back ground of the picture.
Here they are pursued; the walls broken clown; and
amidst the flames of their dwellings — the shrieks of
24 ORATIONS.
their women and children — the fury of their assailants
— this mighty army is unsparingly destroyed.
Is this a picture of fancy? The historic page tells
us that in the year 1539, Hernando de Soto, a Cava-
lier of Spain, after landing in Florida, with an army
of one thousand select soldiers, proceeded north
through the territory of Georgia; entered Alabama at
its north eastern extremity; descended along the
hanks of the Coosa, to its junction with the Talla-
poosa; crossed the latter stream; proceeded west
along the banks of the Alabama; crossed it about
fifty miles above its junction with the Tombeckbe,
and there, on the 18th of October, 1540, fought the
battle of Mobile with the natives, headed by their
Chieftain Tuscaloosa. For the length of its continu-
ance, the desperate character of the contest, the hor-
rors of its details, and the numbers slain upon both
sides, this was by far the most bloody battle ever
fought upon the soil of the United States. After re-
maining several weeks near Mobile, De Soto proceeded
to the north, crossed the Black Warrior not far south
of the spot at which we are now assembled, and con-
tinued his course into the State of Mississippi, where
he spent the winter. With the natives he fought
many other desperate battles. Subsequently he dis-
covered the Mississippi river, and made several exten-
sive expeditions into the regions beyond it. Through-
out the whole of this strange pilgrimage, to which he
was incited by motives of avarice, combined with the
love of conquest, he encountered dangers and en-
dured difficulties which have no parallel save in the
THE SOUTHWEST. 25
annals of Mexican and Peruvian conquest. At length,
overcome by fatigue, dissappointed in his hopes, his
forces half destroyed by perpetual battles, famine and
disease — he died of a broken heart, and was buried in
the middle of that mighty stream which he had been
the first white man to cross. Thus, in the language
of the most philosophic of American historians,
" the discoverer of the Mississippi slept beneath its
waters. He had crossed the greater part of the con-
tinent in search of gold, and found nothing so remark-
able as his burial place!"
This romantic expedition furnishes, in its details,
one of the most interesting chapters in American his-
tory; and, in its whole inception, progress and denoue-
:it, appears more like a creation of fancy than a
series of events in actual life. The authenticity and
correctness of the accounts concerning it, are, however,
well established; and we are justified in considering it
the prologue, as well as the first period, of South-
western History.
II. By this Expedition, — which is known in her
annals as " The Conquest of Florida" — Spain consid-
ered that she had acquired a right to the whole North
American Continent. Her attempts to take possession
of it were, however, few and far between. They were
principally confined to the settlement of East Florida,
and were interrupted by the interference of France,
whose emissaries, in the long period from 1562 to
1698 — which we shall denominate the second era of
Southwestern History, — had explored the Mississippi
River, taken possession of the country under the name
26 ORATIONS.
of Louisiana, and had pushed their way as missiona-
ries and traders among most of the native tribes of
the interior. In the latter part of this period, occur-
red the celebrated expedition of Lasalle, into the ter-
ritory now the Republic of Texas, by virtue of which,
our government long subsequently laid claim to the
soil, based upon the French right, as far as the Rio
del Norte. The correspondence, which ensued be-
tween Mr. Adams, our then Secretary of State, and
M. De Onis, the Spanish minister, gives the general
outline of this ill-starred expedition, which in its de-
tails was well nigh as romantic as that of De Soto.
The incidents of this jDeriod constitute an important
part of Southwestern history, but as they have been
generally recorded, we need not farther allude to them,
than to say that in 1693, Spain took possession of
West Florida, laid the foundation of Pensacola, and
established a brisk trade with the Alabamon and
Chickasaw Indians.
III. The third general division of Southwestern
History extends from 1698 to 1768, a period of seventy
years. It is the era of French colonization and settle-
ments; and, while it is the most interesting and im-
portant, is that portion of our history of which least
is known. The materials for a correct accc-unt, al-
though they exist in the rare volumes of a foreign
tongue, are, however, abundant and accessible. From
them it appears that this period is naturally subdi-
vided into four parts :
1. The first extends from 1698 to 1713. During this
time, Iberville, an officer of the King of France, un-
THE SOUTHWEST. 27
der the direction of his monarch, who was anxious to
reduce Louisiana into possession, bought out a colony
of some three hundred individuals, and, in 1699, made
settlements upon Dauphin Island, in the present
limits of Alabama, and at the Bay of Biloxi, now in
the State of Mississippi. He immediately commenced
an intercourse with the natives of the interior — who
consisted, he found, of numerous tribes calling them-
selves, Alibamons, Choctaws, Mobiles, Chickasaws,
&c. ; and who had already been visited by traders and
missionaries, from the Spaniards in Florida, and the
English in Carolina. After building a fort upon the
Mississippi Kiver, he returned to France, leaving his
brother, Bienville, Governor of the colony. He, in
1702, built a fort upon Mobile Bay, a few miles below
the site of our present nourishing emporium, and re-
moved to it the head-quarters 'of the colony — where it
remained until 1711, when in consequence of an in-
undation in the spring, it was removed to the pre-
sent site of the city, and Fort Louis, whose ruins are
yet to be seen, was built. Throughout the whole of
this period, the colonists were engaged in violent wars
with the neighboring tribes, — particularly the Aliba-
mons; and, in the latter part of it, with the English
of Carolina, — the parent countries at that time being
at war. They suffered frequently from disease; and
in 1705, the dread visitant, which has recently made
such terrible havoc upon the same devoted spot, made
its first appearance in the colony, and earned off thir-
ty-five of the inhabitants. Nevertheless, the colonists
carried on a considerable trade with the natives, in
28 ORATIONS.
peltries and furs, which they sent to France. To
agriculture they paid little or no attention. The pop-
ulation of the colony, which at the close of this period
resided principally at Mobile and on Dauphin Island,
amounted to three hundred and eighty individuals.
2. The second subdivision of the period of French
colonization and government in the Southwest, em-
braces but four years, but is full of interesting adven-
ture. In 1713, the officers of Crozat, a rich merchant
of Paris, to whom the King had given a charter of the
Colony, took possession; and Lamotte Cadillac be-
came Governor. Under this charter, the population
was greatly increased by emigration from France, and
military posts were established along the banks of the
Mississippi and in the interior. In 1714, a military
establishment, called Fort Toulouse, with a colonial
settlement, was made upon the head waters of the
Alabama, at the junction of the Coosa and Tallapoo-
sa, near which Fort Jackson was erected in 1812, by
the American troops. Some of the evidences of this
settlement may yet be found, though they who built,
like the native tribe who assisted — then called " the
Alibamons" — have long since passed away. Several
other establishments were, about the same time, made
in the interior of this State and of Mississippi. An
old map locates one upon the Tombeckbe, another
upon the head waters of the Yazoo, and a third upon
the Tennessee, then called the Cherokee river.
Crozat, disappointed in his hopes of profit from
commerce with the Indians, and harassed by the con-
tinual wars which he was compelled to carry on with
THE SOUTHWEST. 29
them, particularly against the Chickasaws — in 1717
surrendered his charter to the King. He left the
colony hut little improved, save by the increase of
population, which now amounted to near eight hun-
dred inhabitants.
3. From 1718 to 1732 — a period of fourteen years
— the colony was under the government of a chartered
association called the "Western Company," and Bien-
ville was reinstated as Governor, much to the delight
of the inhabitants. This period is marked by a great in-
crease of population; an extension of settlements into
Louisiana and Mississippi ; the foundation of New
Orleans ; a violent war with the Spanish in West
Florida; the capture of Pensacola; an attack by the
Spaniards upon Dauphin Island and Mobile; the di-
vision of the country into nine ecclesiastical districts,
for the purposes of the Koman Catholic religion, which
was exclusively established; the dissemination of
priests and friars among all the Indian tribes; the first
serious attention to agriculture, by the colonists, in
the cultivation of indigo, rice and tobacco; the intro-
duction of large numbers of slaves brought from the
coast of Africa; numerous bloody wars among the In-
dian tribes; a combination of several of these tribes
against the colonists ; and finally, the terrible and
relentless destruction of the once powerful and almost
semi-civilized tribe of the Natchez, by Perrier. who in
1726 had succeeded Bienville as Governor. We can
but thus barely allude to all these importart incidents.
Que or two events of a less general character may serve
to show the condition and spirit of affairs in the colony.
30 ORATIOXS.
In 1722, the colony at Fort Toulouse, upon the
head waters of the Alabama, was disturbed by a mu-
tiny among the soldiers. Twenty-six rose in arms
against Marchand, the commander, and forcing their
way out of the fort, departed for the English settle-
ments in Carolina. Villemont, the second in com-
mand, immediately collected a large force of the Ali-
bamon Indians, and, with them and the balance of the
troops, pursued the fugitives. They were overtaken
near the Chattahooche river, and, after a brief but
bloody engagement, were, with the exception of eight
prisoners, mercilessly massacred. These prisoners
were taken back to the Fort, and thence to Mobile,
where they were publicly executed. One of them, be-
longing to a corps of hired Swiss, was put to death
according to their bloody military rules. He was
placed alive in a coffin, and his body was sawed in two
with a cross-cut saw.
Another incident which occurred during this jjeriod,
casts a softening shadow of romance over the rude life
of the colonists, and would afford, in connection with
the time, the groundwork for a highly imaginative
novel.
Among a company of German colonists, who arrived
at Mobile, in 1721, there came a female adventurer, of
great personal beauty, high accomplishments, and evi-
dently possessed of much wealth. It was generally
believed, as she herself represented, that she was the
daughter of the Duke of Wolfenbuttle, and the wife
of the Czarowitz Alexius Peter, the only son of Peter
the Great, and that being cruelly treated by her hus-
THE SOUTHWEST. 31
band, she had fled from him, for refuge in these far
colonies, while he represented that she was dead. This
belief was confirmed by the Chevalier d'Aubant, who
having seen the princess at St. PetersbHfgh, recognized
her features in the new comer; and, upon the strength
of his opinion, formed a matrimonial alliance with the
repudiated wife. After many years' residence in the
colony, with all the style of a court, — the Chevalier
went to Paris with his princess. Here, for some time,
her story obtained general credit, and it was not till
after the death of her husband, that she was discov-
ered to be an impostor. It was now proved that the
pretended arch-duchess was only an humble female,
who, having been attached to the wardrobe of the
princess of Russia, had robbed her of large quantities
of jewehy and gold, and had fled to America. By a
similarity of appearance with her mistress, she im-
posed upon the credulity of a young officer, who lived
in splendor upor her ill-gotten wealth, and died in
blissful ignorance of the truth of her history.
The " Western Company" in 1732, surrendered
their charter to the king. A few years previously they
had removed the seat of government to New Orleans,
though the principal business was yet transacted at
Mobile. The population of the colony now amounted
to over five thousand white inhabitants and two t7wu-
sand slaves.
4. The fourth and last period of French govern-
ment in the Southwest extends from 1732 to 1768,
when France became dispossessed of every inch of
ground in N >rth America. The most interesting inci-
32 ORATIONS.
dent of the first part of this era, is an expedition made
against the Chickasaw Indians, by Bienville, who had
been re-appointed Governor by the King. These In-
dians had made many hostile depredations upon the
settlements around Mobile, and upon the Mississippi,
and had refused to deliver up a party of the Natchez,
who, after the massacre, had taken refuge among them.
Determining to punish their audacity, and to quell
them for ail future time, Bienville, in the spring of
1736, left Mobile with an army of fifteen hundred
troops, with all the implements and provisions of war.
The greater part of the forces ascended the river upon
its western bank. The baggage, artillery and pro-
visions were transported in boats. On the twentieth
of April, he reached a fort, which he had caused to be
built a short time before, on the west bank of the
Tombeckbe river, two hundred and fifty miles above
Mobile, and to which the appellation of "Fort Tom-
beckbe" had been given. Here he was joined by
twelve hundred Choctaw warriors, who had been en-
gaged for the expedition. With this formidable army,
he was twenty days ascending the Tombeckbe, to the
point at which Cotton Gin Port now stands. Here,
finding his artillery difficult of transportation, and
deeming it unnecessary, he erected a temporary forti-
fication, in which he placed it with a company of sol-
diers. The village, in which the Chickasaws were
collected, was distant twenty miles. This Bienville
reached on the morning of the twenty-sixth of May,
and immediately invested. It was found to be en-
tirely surrounded by strong pallisades, constructed of
THE SOUTHWEST, 33
large trees, and was filled by an immense number of
warriors. From several English flags, displayed over
the village, evidence was given that the Chickasaws
were headed by traders from Carolina. An immediate
assault was made upon the fortifications, by the whole
army ; but they were found impregnable. Though the
most desperate valor was exhibited by the troops, and
though they made repeated attempts to storm particular
points, which seemed most exposed, they were continu-
ally repulsed with great loss. The well directed fire
of the besieged mowed down the assailants, and,
amidst their war-cries and firing, they jeered them with
impotency and cowardice. After continuing his efforts
until the close of the day, and finding them all in-
effectual, Bienville, with thirty killed — among whom
were four of his principal officers — and over seventy
badly wounded, commenced a hasty retreat. This he
continued for three miles, and encamped for the night.
The next day he returned to his fortifications upon the
Tombeckbe. His Choctaw allies here abandoned him;
and, embarking his troops upon his boats, he floated
down the river to Mobile. Before embarking however,
he threw his cannon into the Tombeckbe. Some of
these were found a few years since, near Cotton Gin,
and were said by the pseudo-literati of Mississippi —
who, in their wisdom, perhaps had never heard of
Bienville,— to be relics of De Soto's expedition !
This unfortunate campaign, in its whole conduct
and termination, partakes largely of the spirit of ro-
mance. One, who, like your speaker, has ascended the
sinuous windings of the Tombeckbe, or traveled
34 ORATIONS.
through the quiet forests aud blooming prairies of
upper Mississippi, can scarcely realize that their peace-
ful solitudes have ever been broken by scenes like these.
And yet, if some day, as he is riding through those
regions, he will throw his bridle upon the neck of his
horse, and look around him, he will find vistages of the
Frenchman's Visit visible in more places than one.
After Bienville's return from this expedition, he
applied himself, for some years, to the improvement
of the colony, in agriculture and commerce with the
West Indies. In 1740 however, he prepared another
and a more powerful expedition against the Chicka-
saws. With it he ascended the Mississippi river and
the Yazoo, and succeeded in bringing them to terms.
He then resigned the Governorship of the Colony, and
returned to France.
The remainder of this period of French history, is
replete with interesting details. Suffice it to say, that
under the government, first, of the Marquis of Vau-
dreuil, and then, of General Kelerec, the colony contin-
ued to flourish to an extent, previously unprecedented:
the cultivation of the sugar cane was commenced in
1751; and some attention paid even to those arts
which refine and embellish life.
France being worsted in the war, which she had
been carrying on with England, by a secret treaty in
1762, ceded all her possessions west of the Mississippi,
with New Orleans, to the crown of Spain; and in the
next year all the balance to the King of England.
She thus became dispossessed of all her right to the soil
of North America; though she continued in possession
THE SOUTHWEST. 35
of Western Louisiana, until 1768, when the Spanish
officers took possession.
IV. The fourth general division of Southwestern His-
tory may be said to extend through a period of thirty-
nine years — from 1764 to 1803 — when Louisiana passed
into the possession of the United States. Of this
period I have time barely to say that it is divided into
three distinct parts : the one extending to 1783, and
embracing the British Grovernment in West Florida,
and over the whole of that part of the present States
of Alabama and Mississippi, south of the thirty-third
degree of north latitude; — another comprising the
Spanish government of Louisiana during the whole
period, and of West Florida from 1782 ; and the third,
commencing in 1783, of the United States, over all
the country east of the Mississippi, and north of the
thirty-first degree of latitude. This era is teeming with
rich historic materials, whether we look to those
events which go to the building of States, or to those
lesser things which serve to illustrate man in his
individual and social capacity. I cannot linger with
them but must proceed to the fifth period of our his-
tory.
V. This extends from 1803 to 1819— when the last
of the States, now composing the Southwest, passed
into the Federal sisterhood. It is, perhaps, as far as
we are concerned, the most interesting era of our
history : embracing, as it does, the first settlement of
this vast region by the pioneers of the population who
now possess it, — the thrilling incidents of the "Last
War," with the powerful Indian tribes of our State —
36 ORATIONS.
with the Spaniards in West Florida, and with the
British before Mobile and New Orleans; and the estab-
lishment of those municipal institutions, under whose
benign protection we live, and in the blessed light of
whose influence we are this day assembled. An ex-
amination of this period will show us, what I believe is
most generally overlooked, that the foundations of our
own State particularly, were not effected by the tran-
quil course of peaceful emigration, bu-t were wrought
and consecrated through a bitter sacrament of blood.
Such an examination is not now permitted. The
materials for a correct history of their time have never
been collected. You will find them in the scattered
records of our country, and among the perishing tra-
ditions of our older inhabitants. In the Western
States they have set us an example, in regard to this
matter, which we should patriotically imitate. What
Flint, Hall, Drake, Marshall, Butler, and many others
have done for the States bordering upon the Ohio — at
the same time that they have pursued honest and
reputable vocations — among which the present temper
of these Hesperian longitudes, in the superlative pos-
session of that species of wisdom which belonged to the
friends of Job, does not seem to consider exclusively
literary occupations, — will not some of you, Gentlemen,
in your hours of recreation in after life from more
practical purposes, perform for the Southwest ?
Only two circumstances in this period, will your
time permit me to mention. Printing — which always
marks an epoch in the history of a State — was com-
menced in Mississippi, by the publication of a news-
THE SOUTHWEST. 37
paper at Natchez, in 1809. The first paper ever
printed in Alabama, was, the " Madison Gazette, "
started in Hunts ville in 1812. Another was begun at
St. Stephens, in 1816, by Thomas Eastin. It was
not inappropriately called " The Halcyon," — and like
its fabled prototype, no doubt, had much influence in
softening the rude turbulence of the times.
The other circumstance, to which I allude, consti-
tutes an interesting chapter in the history of our own
State; and, as it has never been written, and is, in all
its features, tinctured with the attractiveness of ro-
mance, I will briefly present it to your view. I mean
the history of the French Colony, which settled in
Marengo, in 1817.
The overthrow of Napoleon was followed by the
expatriation of many thousands of those who had
been the most conspicious maintainors of his colossal
power. Of these a large number came to the United
States. Among them were generals, who had won
laurels in the proudest fields of European valor, and
assisted in the dethronement and coronation of monarchs
over millions of subjects; and ladies who had figured
in the voluptuous drawing rooms of St. Cloud, and
glittered in the smiles and favor of Josephine and of
Marie Antoinette. With the irrepressible enthusiasm of
their nation, they thought to find, in the quietude and
peace of our boundless forests, an Arcadian exchange
for the aristocratical establishments and gilded saloons
of Paris. They wished to dwell together, and to form a
miniature republic of their own, subject however to the
same laws as other citizens of the Union. Accordingly
38 ORATIONS.
they petitioned Congress, to grant them a portion of
the public domain in the Southwest. This was done
by an act of March the 3d, 1817, granting to them
four townships of land, to be selected by them some-
where in the territory of Alabama. The conditions of
the grant were that the emigrants should cultivate
the Vine upon one acre in each quarter section, and
the Olive upon another other ; and at the end of four-
teen years should pay the General Government two
dollars an acre, for a fee-simple title to the land.
Among the grantees were Marshal Grouchy, the hero
of Linden, and the present Minister of War for France ;
General Lefebvre Desnouettes, Lieutenant General,
who had distinguished himself in all the great
battles of Napoleon; General Count Clausel, General
Count Eeal, the two Generals L'Allemand, and Gen-
erals Vandamme, Lakanal, Penniers, and Garnier
de Saintes; with a number of other subordinate officers,
whose names are among the composing stars of that
galaxy of greatness which encircled the " Sun of the
Sleepless ! " Under the direction of these men, the
location of the colony was made upon the Tombeckbe
river, in what is now the county of Marengo. During
the year, emigrants, to near the number of four hun-
dred, arrived, and took possession of the soil — which
was portioned among them by lottery. They however
did not disperse to any great extent though the
country, but principally settled down in two villages ;
the one called Demopolis, upon the site where the
village with the same name now stands; and the other
called Eaglesville, situated upon the Black Warrior
THE SOUTHWEST. 39
river, a short distance above Demopolis. In this latter
village several of the distinguished men I have named
resided. Upon the Colony they bestowed the name of
Marengo, which is still preserved in the county. Other
relics of their nomenclature, — drawn, similarly, from
battles in which some of them had been distinguished
— are to be found in the villages of Linden and Areola.
In the spring, after their emigration, they proceeded
to the cultivation of the soil, and were soon settled
down in the occupations of agricultural life.
A more singular spectacle than the one thus presen-
ted is rarely to be found in the leaves of history. It
is true that Cincinnatus, when he had saved Kome
from the irruptions of her foes, returned to the plough
he had abandoned. But here we have instances of
men, who had been actors in scenes, which, in military
magnifiicence, far transcended the wildest imaginings
of the Koman — turning from the theater of their for-
mer triumphs, and exchanging the sword for the
plough-share, and the spear for the pruning hook. In
moral dignity, indeed, the advantage is all in favor of
the ancient — for these are driven from their country
by compulsion, — but in other respects the parallel is
not unequal. Who, that would have looked upon
Marshal Grouchy, or General Lefebvre, as, dressed in
their plain rustic habiliments, — the straw hat, the
homespun coat, the brogan shoes — they drove the
plough in the open field, or wielded the axe in the
new-ground clearing, would, if unacquainted with
their history, have dreamed that those farmer-looking
men had sat in the councils of monarchs, and had
40 ORATIONS.
headed mighty armies in the fields of the sternest strife
the world has ever seen ? " Do you know, Sir" — said a
citizen to a traveller, who in 1819, was passing the
road from Areola to Eaglesville, — " Do you know, Sir,
who is that fine looking man, who just ferried you
across the creek ?" "No ! Who is he ! " — was the
reply. " That Sir, " said the citizen, " is the Officer
who commanded Napoleon's advanced guard when he
returned from Elba ! " This was Col. Kaoul, now a
General in France.
Great as in this contrast, it was perhaps greater
with the female part of the colonists. Here, dwelling
in cabins, and engaged in humble attention to the spin-
ning wheel and the loom, or handling the weeding-hoe,
and the rake, in their little gardens, were matrons and
maidens, who had been born to proud titles and high
estates, and who had moved as stars of particular ad-
oration, amid the fashion and refinement and irajjerial
display of the Court of Versailles. And yet, — to their
honor be it said — notwithstanding the rustic and ill—
proportioned circumstances around them, — they did
not appear dispirited or miserable. Nothing of " angels
ruined," was visible in their condition. They were con-
tented — smiling — happy. As cultivated women al-
ways may, they diffused around them, and over the
restless feelings of their sterner relatives, the softening
graces of the heart, and that intellectual glow which,
as Spenser has said of the retired beauty of an English
rrfrl
" Makes a sunshine in the shady place .
But not the least amusing: as Well as singular cir-
THE SOUTHWEST. 41
cumstances, to which these French colonists were ex-
posed, arose from their connection with the adjacent
American inhabitants. Who can think of the celebra-
ted officers I have named, being drilled and mustered
by one of our ordinary militia captains, and not feel
emotions of the supremely ridiculous? And yet such,
I am credibly informed, was frequently the case!
Many amusing incidents resulted from their ignorance
of our language. One, not unworthy of preservation,
was this : An officer of the colony became engaged in
a fight with a citizen of one of our villages. They
used only the weapons which nature had given them.
The Frenchman, getting the worst of the battle, de-
sired to surrender according to the ordinary signal in
such cases. But he could not think of the word
" Enough !" The only phrase he could recall, which he
had ever heard upon such occasions, was the word
"Hurra!" This he continued to shout, until the bye-
standers, guessing his meaning, removed his antago-
nist.
For two or three years, the colonists appeared pros-
perous and happy, and seemed likely to realize' those
visions of the pastoral state, — so sweetly sung by the
Mantuan bard, and which they had caught from the
pages of Chateaubriand and Rousseau. But "aehange
came o'er the spirit of their dream. " The country was
found unsuited to the cultivation of the Vine and the
Olive. The restless spirits of the leaders, which had
been formed and tutored to act a part in those games
which loosen thrones and crack the sinews of whole na-
tions, could not be content with the quiet circumfer-
42 ORATIONS.
ence of their backwoods home, in an age of startling
incidents, when war was afoot, and the far vibrations
of its stormy music, were heard, like the Macedonian
invitation, in their sylvan solitudes. Inducements
were held out to some of them by the struggling States
of South America: and the ferryman left his flat, and
the ploughman his furrow, for posts of honor in the
army of Bolivar. For some, the decrees of their ban-
ishment were revoked, and thev returned to "la belle
France/' — for which, in their exile, they had felt all the
maladie die pays, to preside in her senates, or to head
her armies. Seeing their leaders thus leaving them,
the emigrants, in large numbers, disposed of their
lands, and either returned to their native country or
sought more congenial homes in our Southwestern ci-
ties. The rights of the soil passed into the hands of a
few : Congress, at intervals, exempted them from the
requisitions of the grant, and ultimately included them
in the provisions of the general pre-emption law of
1833. The Colony thus passed away; and though
there are many of the original families, at least of their
descendants, yet residing in the county, a stranger
would in vain look among the black lands and the
broad cotton fields of Marengo, for the simple patches
upon which the Duke of Dantzic, or Count Clausel
attempted to cultivate the Olive and the Vine.
This, is a superficial glance at the French Colony
in Alabama; and to my mind it presents a picture
that is tinted with all the hues of poetry. Well has
the Evil-Genius of modern song exclaimed, ' Truth
is strange — stranger than fiction!' Not in the living
THE SOUTHWEST. 43
conceptions of the Wizard of Waverly — nor in the
wilder creations of a Groethe or a Boccaccio, have I
found aught — with a semblance of probability about
it — which could compare with this singular chapter in
Southwestern history. Nowhere, but in our own an-
nals can its parallel be found.
And here, Gentlemen, it might seem proper that
we should conclude our glance at these " lights and
shadows'" of Southwestern history. Your attention
has already been detained too long with this part of
our Discourse. But there is one branch of our history
— which, as it pervades the whole, and gives its most
marked coloring to each seperate period, — cannot be
omitted in an attempt to portray the character of that
history, — which it has been my object, upon this occa-
sion, to do, rather than to give you a mere recital of
its principal events. I allude to the history of the In-
dian Tribes, who, until recently, resided within our
borders. The time will not allow me to enter into its
examination; but a few general facts, collected from
the lights furnished us by the expedition of De Soto,
the intercourse of the French settlers in Louisiana,
and the subsequent acquaintance of the English and
Americans, mav be stated.
There can be no doubt that the tribes who inhabited
the Southwest, thirty years ago, were the same who
were in possesion of it three hundred years before, —
and had occupied, throughout the time, the same rel-
ative geographical positions. At the period of their
first discovery, they were much more numerous than
at any subsequent date, though they have always been
44 OKATIONS.
amongst the most powerful of the North American
tribes. They have ever been distinguished for great
ferocity of spirit, and have constantly waged among
themselves, violent and bloody wars. In their institu-
tions, manners, customs and languages, they had not
materially changed since their first discovery. Al-
though there are many tribes mentioned by various
writers, as having resided in this region — I speak of
that part east of the Mississippi, — yet they were all
subdivisions of five general tribes, — viz: The Creeks,
the Cherokees, the Choctaws, the Chickasaws, and
the Natchez. This latter tribe was, in 1726, as we
have stated, totally destroyed by the French, and five
hundred of them sold into slavery in the West Indies.
The remainig four tribes comprised all the other Indi-
ans resident in this extensive region. The Coosas,
and the Tallisees ot De Soto, and the Alibamons, Mus-
cogees, and Tallapoosas of the French and Spanish
writers, were all merged in the Creek confederacy: and
the Tuscaluza Indians of 1540, and the Mobile, Ten-
saw and Biloxi tribes of 1700, were but Choctaws
under a different name.
Of the numerous and terrible wars, by which the in-
tercourse of these tribes with the whites has ever been
marked, and which consequently gives to our history
one of its strongest features of peculiarity — it is impos-
sible now even to make mention. Thev diffuse along*
all the lines of our progress the shadows and stains of
blood : from the battle of Chicaca, three centuries ago,
to the burning of St. Rosalie, two centuries after,
from the butchery of Fort Loudon upon the Tennessee,
THE SOUTHWEST. 45
in 1760, to the Massacre of Fort Minims upon the
Tonibeckbe, in 1812.
The historian who shall record these things, in connec-
tion with the peculiar characteristics of the several
tribes, in a manner at all proportioned to the subject,
will, it seems to me, furnish as interesting and instruc-
tive a volume as has ever been written. There is room
for the wildest romantic descriptions, as well as the
most profound philosophical research. Vapid and un-
meaning declamations will do no good. We want es-
tablished facts and reasonable deductions. We want
a picture of the institutions, religious, political and
social; of the manners and customs, military and paci-
fic; of the languages, in their form and construction —
of these several tribes. But he, who would give us
such a picture, must begin the task soon. The evi-
dences of these things are daily becoming more indis-
tinct. " Like the leaves of the sycamore, when the
wind of winter is blowing/' — to use the fine simile of
a Choctaw orator, — " the Indians are passing away,
and the white people will soon know no more of them,
than they do of those deep caves out of which they had
their origin!" These tribes have already passed from
our soil. It therefore behooves us to be the more active
to collect the memorials of their history. It will be,
not merely the sketches of a singular people, but will
possess the additional value of being inseperably inter-
woven with our own history, from its earliest era down
almost to the present day.
I have now, Gentlemen, concluded such a view of
the Historv of our section of the Union, as I deemed
46 ORATIONS.
not inappropriate for the present occasion. In the in-
vestigation, I am conscious that I have "been dull and
tedious, and yet, I feel satisfied that you will be better
pleased with what I have said, than if I had detained
you with the mere effervescence of rhetoric and fancy —
with those wind-blown extra vagances, which rise upon
the surface of thought — the glittering existences of a
minute, and then pass away, justifying you in exclaim-
ing, with Macbeth,
" Earth hath its huhbles as the waters have,
And these are of them !"
There are many lessons which such a survey of our
history forces upon the mind. Not the least of these
is the duty of our educated citizens, to clevelope and
collect its materials. This duty will fall with its
strongest obligations, upon you, Gentlemen, who have
been born and educated within our borders. Although
you may never become exclusively devoted to Letters,
you will yet have frequent opportunities to discharge
this duty — a duty which will be as interesting and
agreeable, as it will be honorable to yourselves. By
so doing you will best repay to the State, the favors
which she has bestowed upon you, in the establish-
ment of high institutions of learning; and will diffuse
around you, like the beautiful magnolia trees of our
southern forests, a hallowing fragrance, and the influ-
ence of an example, which will beautify and adorn the
community in which you may reside.
But, Gentlemen, perhaps the first and most inter-
esting duty of a young man, in entering upon life, is
to understand properly, the character of the communi-
THE SOUTHWEST. 47
ty in which he is to live. With this belief, it was my
intention to have addressed you, to-day, principally
upon some of the mental and moral characteristics of
that section of the Union of which you are citizens,
and into whose bosom you are shortly to go as the
apostles of her first Literary Institution. My remem-
brance of collegiate life tells me, that the student is
usually better versed in the social economy of the an-
cient time and States, than in that of his own period
and country. He can tell you more of the manners
and customs, the sentiments and feelings, the institu-
tions and intercourse, of " the world's grey fathers,"
than he can of his own immediate society. Many a
young man passes through a University, and c'omes
out into life, with the music of Demosthenes ringing
in his ears, the morals of Seneca impressed upon his
heart, and the philosophy of Epictetus learned by rote,
who cannot tell what is the actual character of his
own country — what is the condition and impulses of
the people about him, — and what are the causes, re-
mote and immediate, which produce that condition,
and form and fashion that character. Such a youth I
should describe in the language of Pope :
" A bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head !"
If ancient philosophy is at all valuable, it is principal-
ly so, because it may be applied to the illustration and
improvement of our own times, — because it can guide
us in the understanding and formation of our own
manners and institutions. It should be a hand-maid
48 ORATIONS.
and not a usurper — an index and not a goal ! Our own
age — our own country — our own society — this should
be the ultimate — indeed the pervading — view and ob-
ject of all our acquirements. This, only, makes philoso-
phy practical — this, only, draws the distinction between
true learning, and the Questiones Quodlibeticce of the
Middle Ages, — beween the valuable instructions of a
Stewart and a Say, and the wild theories of a Thomas
Aquinas or a Duns Scotus.
It is scarcely necessary, then, to repeat, Gentlemen,
that one of the subjects most worthy of your calm and
philosophical attention, is the Moral and Intellectual
Character of tht Southwest. With this estimation, I
had intended, as I have already said, to have addressed
you at some length upon this topic : but the extent,
to which you have been detained with the first part of
our Discourse, precludes the possibility of such a view.
I must content myself with general allusions to some
of the principal features of the subject. Such a course,
if it subserves no other end, will at least be directory to
the vast field of research and reflection, which opens
on the mind.
The character of a country is the aggregated charac-
ters of its individual citizens. If these are, in the main,
intelligent, virtuous, liberal, industrious, hospitable,
and refined, such may be said to be the general charac-
ter of their community. In proportion as individuals
of different qualities enter into the composition of so-
ciety — so it becomes, in its general tone, less pure and
elevated. Thus it will be seen that to judge exactly
of the character of a country, we should know the
THE SOUTHWEST. 49
characteristics of its several inhabitants. But it is im-
possible in a community of any extent, to form an
opinion in this way. Resort must be had to other and
more convenient methods. The best of these is to ex-
amine those general causes which operate to produce
and modify the character of every community. This
is the plan we propose to pursue in examining the
Moral and Intellectual Character of the Southwest.
Her peculiarities only, are those to which we will allude.
That these peculiarities are numerous, and very promi-
nent, we are daily reminded by the Press in other sec-
tions of the Union. Foreign travelers constantly
speak of the people of the Southwest as possessing
many distinctive traits. Whenever a resident of the
other States — particularly from New England — comes
among us, he finds many phases and features of socie-
ty, which are to him not only novel but wonderful:
and at the same time he affords to us a specimen of a
community varying essentially in its tone, its temper,
its feelings, and even, to some extent, in its pronuncia-
tion, from our own. This difference ought not to be a
source of wonder to a reflecting mind. Even a super-
ficial notice of the history of the human race, shows us
that man, in his intellectual and moral attributes, is
ever modified by the circumstances around him. It is
therefore not more surprising that the extremes of our
confederacy should vary in their social, than in their
physical, conditions, if we consider that the one is an
old and the other a new community. That the pecu-
liarities, which exist in our case, and which are not al-
ways creditable to us ; which indeed have given us a
50 ORATIONS.
character abroad, strangely blending many of the
highest virtues with the ruder vices of social' life — can
be traced, in the main, to circumstances inevitablv in-
cident to our condition, I think clearly capable of de-
monstration. It is a proud consolation, too, that
those causes, which have produced the ruder and less
ennobling features of our character, are, by the pro-
gress of time and the operation of better influences,
already passing from existence. Let us now take a
glance at some of these causes.
An individual, who wished properly to understand
the character of a community, should examine first,
how, and of what materials, that community was form-
ed. This is particularly right where it is recent in its
origin. Now, in the case of the Southwest, let us see
how its society was formed, and what are its compo-
nent parts. But a few years ago, the greater portion
of this vast region — of whose beauties and capacities
for the purposes of social man, I have already spoken,
— was an uncultivated wilderness, untenanted save by
ignorant and ferocious barbarians. The tide of civili-
zed population, however, some thirty years since, be-
gan to sweep through its forests. Its progress, at first,
was slow and resisted by the primitive inhabitants.
The white men consequently, who sought homes in its
bosom, like the pioneers of every new country, were ad-
venturous and daring spirits, and the manner of life,
which they were forced to lead, was, in a great mea-
sure, lawless, self-dependent, and semi-barbarous. But,
in a little while, the flow of population became more
broad and rapid. Glowing accounts of thp natural ad-
THE SOUTHWEST. 51
vantages of the region, attracted emigrants from every
section of the Union. The Carolinian, the Georgian,
the Virginian, the inhabitants of the Middle and Wes-
tern States, and the New Englander, all poured, with
their families, into this vast and fertile field, with un-
precedented rapidity. They came — in the phrase of
the day — for the purpose of making fortunes; and
were accordingly " business men." Without much re-
ference to each other, they settled down, wherever con-
venience or the hope of profit seemed to advise; and
went to the laudable business of making laws and for-
tunes. If to this we add a considerable amount of for-
eign emigration, we have a correct idea of how the
Southwestern States, particularly Mississippi and Ala-
bama, were filled with their present population. From
such materials, under such circumstances, what kind
of a character is it rational to suppose that such a com-
munity would possess? The purposes for which they
have emigrated warrant that they will, generally, be
industrious and practical. They have not left their
homes to seek the pleasures and embellishments of life.
Profit — that profit which comes from laborious exer-
tion — is their main object. Those virtues which follow
in the train of industry — like sparkles in the wake of a
ship — frugality, economy, honesty — must be theirs.
Hospitality — the chief of social virtues — is taught
them by the necessities of their situation. The same
cause teaches them self-reliance — and independence of
spirit is its consequence. Intercourse, under such cir-
cumstances, must be free, unceremonious, and liberal
52 ORATIONS.
All being upon an equality, there can be nothing like
aristocracy in society
These excellences are, however, qualified by atten-
dant evils. Koughness of manner; an improper haugh-
tiness of spirit, producing frequently violence and
crime; a disregard of the laws and of any restraint;
neglect of the charities and courtesies of social life, as
effeminate and unbecoming; and a general deteriora-
tion of the moral feelings, are, in a new and backwoods
community, most usually, the shadows of the virtues
I have named. And yet, in the Southwest, their devel-
opment has been greatly prevented by the goodness
and variety of the materials out of which its society
was composed. The emigrants, coming from every
section of the Union, brought with them, and placed
in conflict, that pride of home, with its improvements,
and that desire to excel which belongs to the inhabi-
tants of the several States. A competition for excel-
lence, being thus produced, tends to suppress the vices,
and to develope and keep alive the virtues, of the com-
munity. In such a state of society, it is not to be ex-
pected that literature or the fine arts should have a
home. These, while they improve the whole structure,
are but its embellishments. The architecture of society
must be first strong and useful: the Doric and the Go-
thic are its emblematic orders ! Eefinement and ele-
gance belong to more advanced stages: and it is then
that the graceful Ionic, and the ornate Corinthian — fit
metaphors of the beautifying branches of learning —
blend their sweet proportions with the more solid parts
THE SOUTHWEST. 53
of the edifice. To speak less figuratively, new commu-
nities pay more attention to those parts of knowledge
which supply and relieve their wants; which are pure-
ly practical in their nature; than to those branches
which please the fancy or gratify the heart. Such
has been the course and character of the Southwest:
and it is clearly referable, I think, to the general cau-
ses, I have indicated.
The character, thus drawn, applies more properly to
the Southwest, as it was ten years ago, than is at pre-
sent: but as it is the one yet entertained abroad, to a
great extent, I have thought proper to show it, and its
producing causes. The evils of a very early state of
society have measurably passed from among us.
Their effects to some extent yet linger, but are daily
diminishiDg, while the beneficial effects of emigration
exist in their full force. One of these, secondary how-
ever in importance, is the purity and correctness with
which the English language is spoken among us. I be-
lieve there is no part of the world, — not even London
- — in which our mother tongue is pronounced with more
accuracy than in the Southwest. No where are there
fewer provincialisms. This results from the great and
continual admixture of population, from all parts of
the Union. Each one acts as a check and a corrective
upon his neighbor; and thus the " well of English" is
kept pure and undefiled.
Another good and enduring operation which this,
our primitive state, has had upon our character, is its
effect upon the yeomanry of our land. It has genera-
ted an honest, hardy, and patriotic population, who
54 ORATIONS.
may be fitly described in the language Halleck has
applied to the people of Connecticut :
" A stubborn race, flattering and fearing none —
The}' love their land because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why ;
Would shake hands with a king upon his throne,
And think it kindness to his majesty !'
This leads us directly to the consideration of another
general cause, which has had an important operation,
in forming the character the Southwest has hitherto
maintained; and which must have a preponderating
influence, in all future time, upon its mental and moral
development and direction. I refer to the Agricultural
pursuits of its inhabitants. Such is the physical con-
formation of our region; such its advantages over the
rest of the world for the production of the great staples
of commerce and manufactures; and such its geographi-
cal, and, I may add, in a kindred sense, its mercantile
position; that it must always be looked to and employed
as a "growing country." Of the political results of
this inevitable condition I shall now say nothing; but
in it I see the secret of much of our past, and the as-
surance of our future, character. Agricultural commu-
nities have always been distinguished by peculiarities
resulting from their pursuits. Virgil, in that inimita-
ble poem — inimitable for its combination of the simple
with the sublime, the pathetic with the humorous, the
commonplace with the dignified, and which he was
seven years in writing and polishing — I mean the
Georgics — has given us a beautiful portraiture of the
occupations of the husbandman, and their effects upon
THE SOUTHWEST. 55
his character. The same subject was previously not
less sweetly delineated by the Ascrcean bard, Hesiod,
in his Opera et Dies, and the lessons of agriculture
blended with moral reflections worthy of a Plato or a
Pythagoras. Hafiz, the Persian, at a later day, and
in a far different country, sang the same sweet anthem,
in tones not unworthy of his predecessors.
But the beneficial effects of agricultural pursuits
upon the mind and morals are not the mere raptures
of fancy. It is true that poetry throws a dazzling
veil over many imprefections, and shows us only the
sunny side of the picture ; yet it holds to reason that
that occupation, which attaches a man to the soil,
which gives him a definite idea of property and home,
which shows him the bountiful rewards of patient
industry and economy, which leads him not into the
fever and struggle of vexatious and envious life, must
spread around him a calm atmosphere of good feelings,
and cause the genial and ennobling virtues to spring up
in his heart, like the flowers and the plants in the rich
fields of his own cultivation. At the same time the
operation upon the mental faculties is healthful and
improving. Kegular exercise is not more beneficial to
the body than it is to the intellectual capabilities.
Mens sana in sano corpore is a maxim attested by the
experience of all ages. And yet it is but candid to
confess that, while the pursuits of the farmer thus tend
to enlarge his intellect — to make it muscular, active,
and healthful — capable of prolonged and energetic exer-
tion — they have no direct influence to make him desire
or seek for extensive acquirements in learning. Prac-
56 ORATIONS.
tical information — that kind of knowledge which en-
ables him to comprehend and carry on his own business
— is all that he feels to be absolutely necessary. And,
yet, we may remark, that if the farmer properly appre-
ciated his own condition, he would find that the whole
ranoe of natural science would be of immense advan-
tage to him in his occupation.
That such has been the influence of agricultural
pursuits upon the inhabitants of the Southwest, I
firmly believe. Their situation in a new and unopen-
ed region has, indeed, prevented a full exhibition of
these beneficial effects ; but the good spirit has been
at work, through all their difficulties, and though
silent and perhaps unnoticed as the atmosphere we
breathe, yet nevertheless like it, has shed a soft and
humanizing spell over the rudeness of the times.
That it is not an extravagant fancy to augur well from
this cause, for our character in future, I am more
strongly convinced. It is true that the general diffu-
sion of our population throughout the country, neces-
sarily incident to the nature of their pursuits, will pre-
vent the establishment of many large cities, which
seem to be requisite always for the cultivation of the
higher refinements and fashions of life. But this in
itself may be regarded rather as a blessing than an
evil. With those elegancies and improvements, atten-
dant upon the collection of individuals in large mas-
ses, ever come many vices which more than counter-
balance the good. Some cities will indeed arise upon
our sea-coast for the purposes of commerce : but the
general mass of our population, as it will be agricul-
THE SOUTHWEST. 57
tural, will consequently be scattered throughout the
country. Is it therefore unreasonable to suppose that
they will, in the main, be characterized by those virtues
which are incidental to an agricultural community —
by industry, generosity, independence of spirit, hos-
pitality, patriotism, and generally diffused and prac-
tical intelligence, if not by a refined and elevated
literature ? Such men make the best citizens in
time of peace, and the best soldiers in war. Such
men are the surest guarantee of the permanency
and virtue of our republican institutions. Plain and
unostentatious, they have no desire, as they have no
respect, for the glittering baubles and empty meta-
phors of monarchial institutions. Domestic in their
dispositions, firm and patriotic, they are not wafted
about by those excitements in politics and trade,
which have so often lashed into tempest the crowded
and fevered populations of Manchester and Paris.
They are not only the bones and sinews of a good com-
munity ; they are its veins, its arteries, which conduct
the regular and healthful currents of pure vitality
through the whole body politic.
Such, Gentlemen, I believe, is a correct view of the
nature and influence of the pursuits, which, at present
engage, and must occupy in future, the attention of
the great mass of our population — composed as it is,
not of the dwellers in our towns and villages — not of
planters who rule over large numbers of slaves, — but
of the humble and industrious, who are scattered
everywhere, among our hills and valleys, reaping,
according to the primal ordinance, the fruits and trea-
58 ORATIONS.
sures of the earth. It may seem that I have over-
rated the number and importance of this class of our
society ; but any one who will travel through the inte-
rior of our country ; who will follow the " neighbor-
hood roads/' as they are termed, through all their hum-
ble windings ; who will go to our muster-grounds, our
election precincts, our county meeting houses, and
occasionally to a Methodist Camp meeting, or a Bap-
tist Association, and will then ask himself where the
seventeen hundred thousand white inhabitants dwell,
who at present swell the census of the Southwest, —
will find that the class, ot which I have spoken, con-
stitute at least a moiety of our actual population.
And are not these to be regarded, in estimating the
present and prospective character of our country ?
Associated with this subject, and contituting an-
other general influence, indeed the principal one —
upon Southwestern character, is that division of society
which exists throughout the South, and which is de-
nominated our Peculiar Domestic Institution. The
present occasion would be inappropriate to enter into
the discussion of a topic, which has been discreetly
voted a sealed subject among us. I shall therefore
only remark, upon its general merits, that I am al-
ways ready to maintain, at proper times and places,
that it is an Institution, in itself, naturally, morally,
and politically right and beneficial. As regards its
Intellectual and Moral effects, it may not be improper
to say a few words. Much of that character which is
peculiar to our section of the Union is traceable to
this Institution. By producing two broad and dis-
THE SOUTHWEST 59
tinct classes in society, it has generated, upon the part
of our white inhabitants, a spirit of superiority and
self-esteem, a certain aristocracy of feeling, and a proud
chivalry of character, which do not elsewhere so gener-
ally exist. This has always been known as an effect
of such Institutions. Lycurgus introduced the Helots
into Sparta to accomplish this end. He believed that
the Lacedemonians could not cherish and appreciate
properly the social and political virtues, and that that
spirit of equality so essential to republican governments
could not exist, unless the menial and more laborious
duties were discharged by a seperate and inferior class.
The beneficial effect upon Spartan character is a mat-
ter of history. Bryan Edwards, in his History of the
West Indies, tells us that a similar influence is exercised,
by this Institution, upon the white inhabitants of
those islands. He says that " the leading feature of
their character is an independent spirit, and a display
of conscious equality throughout all ranks and condi-
tions. The poorest white person seems to consider
himself nearly upon a level with the conditon of the
richest ; and, emboldened by this idea, he approaches
his employer with extended hand, and a freedom which,
in the countries of Europe, is seldom displayed by men
in the lower orders of life to their superiors." In our
own country, the same truth, so congenial to republi-
canism, is still more strongly attested, — and in its
train follow many of the higher virtues. Magnanimity,
liberality, a spirit of justice, disdain for anything like
meanness or parsimony of disposition, a love of excel-
lence, are all characteristics of the Southron.
60 ORATIONS.
The facilities and incentives afforded by this Institu-
tion, for intellectual improvement, are great and grati-
fying. The necessity for bodily labor being to a great
extent removed from a large part of our citizens, they
can devote their full time to the culture of the mind.
The spirit which it excites, being one content with no
secondary rank in excellence, prompts to the attain-
ment of knowledge in its highest departments. In a
few years, owing to the operation of this institution
upon our unparalleled natural advantages, we shall
be the richest people beneath the bend of the rainbow,
and then the arts and the sciences, which always follow
in the train of wealth, will nourish to an extent hitherto
unknown on this side of the Atlantic.
I might go on and enumerate a thousand other ad-
vantages which have arisen, and which will arise, from
this Institution, in a moral and intellectual way, but I
feel that I am dealing with a subject, of which we had
better think than speak. I will leave it therefore, with
the simple remark, that it is worthy of your calm and
philosophical examination, — and that such an examin-
ation will prove to you that this, our Peculiar Institu-
tion, is not only right upon principles of morality, but
that it is fraught with an influence upon the whole
character of our section of the Union, of the most
gratifying kind.
If I were here to conclude my enumeration of the
general causes, which have tended to produce South-
western Character, and their results, I should be ac-
cused of drawing a nattering and incorrect picture for
the sake of sectional gratulation. It is but honest to
THE SOUTHWEST. 61
admit that there are many fault? which have not been
mentioned. De Tocqueville— perhaps the most sensi-
ble foreigner who has ever visited the United States —
in speaking of the Southwest, says that " it has ever
been marked by lawlessness, frequency of crime, and
the impunity with which vice is committed." While
bowing our heads in shame before the truth of this
charge, I think it can be clearly shown that it depends
not, as has been asserted, upon causes necessarily inhe-
rent in the constitution of our society. Indeed the
charge contains, in its specifications, one of the reasons,
why they all exist. " The impunity with which vice
is committed" is the cause of " lawlessness" and " fre-
quency of crime." The fault, then is either in the
character of our laws, or in their administration. In-
deed it is in both : although the evils of the latter re-
sult principally from the former. The best guarantee
for the execution of the laws is that those laws should
themselves be good. If they are of that kind which
cannot command the respect of the people, or are such
as cause the moral sense to revolt at their execution,
they had better be blotted from the statute-book. You
cannot expect the officer to enforce the laws, unless
the feelings of the community are with him in the dis-
charge of his duty. The history of judicial adminis-
tration in the Southwest, sustains this assertion. Our
laws have been impotent, in many cases, because they
have been disproportioned to the offences ; and the
guilty have consequently gone unpunished. One such
omission affects the whole character of justice. Seeing
the laws disobeyed or neglected in one instance, the
62 ORATIONS.
people see no reason why they should not be in others.
In many cases, too, we have had no laws where they were
much needed. This enables gross and shocking offen-
ces to be committed against the community, for which
there is no ample or appropriate penalty. Is it to be
wondered at that, under such circumstances, the people
should take, as it is termed, the law into their own
hands ? This produces that odious, disgraceful and
dangerous practice called " Lynch Law" — which has
so frequently, of late years, cast a blackening stain
upon the fair character of our region, and which, like
the blood of the murdered, upon the hands of the Scot-
tish usurper, will not out, at our bidding.
These evils have all resulted from the fact that we
have not had a proper criminal code, in the two States
— Alabama and Misissippi — to which the charges are
chiefly applicable : and this has, no doubt, arisen from
the youth of these States. It takes some time to cre-
ate a system of penal laws suited to the character of a
people. It can only be done by a philosophical exam-
ination of that character. The early legislators of our
State, and of her western neighbor, erred in thinking
that a severe code was best calculated for the times.
It is a maxim of law, that severity is not so sure a pre-
ventive of crime, as certainty, of punishment ; and
that there should be a gradation in the penalties, as
there is in the turpitude, of offences. It is a gratifying
fact that the law-makers of these States have, at
length, discovered the truth of these maxims, and have
set about reforming their criminal codes. It is to be
hoped that the Penitentiary system, which was adopted
THE SOUTHWEST. 63
by our Legislature at its last session, will be so arranged
in its details, as to furnish us a system of penal laws,
which will fully answer the purposes of justice, and
save us, in all future time, from the bitter reproach of
being a lawless and semi-barbarous people.
If this subject is properly attended to throughout
the Southwest, the dark shadows which rest upon our
name will be removed : the ennobling causes of moral
and intellectual prosperity, to which I have referred,
will have a full and free operation ; our character will
become such as we may well be proud of ; and our
section of the Union will ascend in every respect to
that lofty excellence, of which it has such ennobling
prospects. A few remarks upon these Prospects will
conclude, Gentlemen, what I have to say to you, to-
day.
I have sometimes, in hours of contemplation, at-
tempted to imagine what is to be the destiny of this
vast region which we inhabit. In my fancies I have
never, for a moment, seperated her from the rest of the
Union. The chain, which binds us together, seems,
to my mind, to be composed of moral and political
motives, and of physical causes, which must always keep
us one. And yet that unity can only be best preserved
by the citizens of each section, emulating in the pro-
gress of improvement. If we stand still here in the
Southwest, our section — in military phrase —cannot
keep step with the rest of the confederacy ; we must
hang like a dead limb upon the body national. No
improper motives, therefore, enter into the seperate
contemplation of the prospects of our own peculiar re-
04 ORATIONS.
gion. In my mind such a contemplation gives birth
to the purest species of patriotic pride. I look around
over our extended territories, and I find them in the
possession of a race of men, upon which, for near a
thousand years, the choicest benedictions of heaven
seem to have been bestowed : the Anglo-Saxon race.
They are living beneath the ennobling influence of Re-
publican institutions, and under the blessed light of
the Protestant religion. With that spirit which has
ever marked their path in history, they are applying
to the vast natural resources of this region, all the in-
ventions and improvements which science has given to
art. By their efforts, gigantic and savage forests have
been changed into scenes of fruitfulness and beauty.
Towns and villages have sprung up with the sudden-
ness of a magician's transformations. Rivers, which
but a few years ago rolled in unfettered majesty through
wide solitudes — " hearing no sound save their own
dashing," — have been converted into channels of com-
merce, and are now to be seen, lined with floating pal-
aces, conveying to the sea the rich productions of the
soil. Across the high hill, and through the deep val-
ley, the long Railroad is visible, passing like a thing
of life, uniting distant communities together, cheapen-
ing and facilitating transportation and travel, scattering
riches around its path with the prodigality of sunshine,
and giving to the immense advantages of the country,
their full operation upon the rest of the world.
And the tide of this improvement is onward !
There is no pause — no exhaustion ! Our population
itself is rapidly increasing. Whore forty years ago
THE SOUTHWEST. 65
there were scarcely rive thousand civilized inhabitants,
there are now nearly two millions. Well might Mr.
Everett say that, when in Germany he spoke of these
things, his auditors regarded him with the same sur-
prise and disbelief, with which the Emperor of China
viewed the English merchant, who told him that, in
the cold climate of Great Britain, water frequently
became as hard as stone. And yet this great increase
of population is going on with the same rapidity. If
it should continue, in a few years how very vast will
be the number of our inhabitants ! No States in the
Union will surpass those of the Southwest.
From these manifestations, and from the mental and
moral influences to which I have referred, what is
it reasonable to expect will be the destiny of our sec-
tion of the Union ? Is it enthusiasm, to believe that
at no very distant day, we shall, in all the constituents
of true greatness, in all that can render a people pros-
perous, happy and respected, in no manner, be inferior
to any part of the world ! Will you look to Agricul-
ture ? Already, but with scarce a tithe of our re-
sources developed, we are furnishing to the world, the
great staple commodities of trade and manufactures.
Even now, the failure of one of our crops would affect
the financial and mercantile interests of Europe to
their core. South of us, in our own continent, nations
are springing into existence, which are demanding our
productions, and will increase the demand for the
future. This will force us into Commerce. It is true
that, in past years, our trade has been carried on by
others, and that through unnatural, and to us expen-
66 ORATIONS.
sive ; channels : and that there are pseudo-philosophers,
even in our own borders, who tell us that this
course of things is inevitable, and must always con-
tinue. " You want the means — you want the capi-
ital I" Such talk is unlettered nonsense. We have
the means — we have the capital ! We have them in
our invaluable natural products, which the world must
have. Nothing but an unjust system of national leg-
islation — nothing but the consequent indebtedness of
our merchants in the Northern cities — ha sever wrenched
our trade from direct communion with Europe, and
kept it in a route at once inconvenient and circuitous,
and which operates to enforce a tax upon us of several
millions of dollars annually. If the people of this
section will reflect properly upon this subject — if we
are left unfettered by restrictive, and oppressive,
though indirect, legislation — if the leading minds of our
region will devote their time and energies to this ob-
ject — as that master spirit, who recently fell in a
neighboring State, * like Muly Moluck, with his har-
ness on, in the very onset of the battle — the efforts of
interested individuals to control our commerce will be
as impotent as the struggles of the Persian to fetter
the heavings of the sea of Greece ; and the South and
her younger sister the Southwest, will flourish to a de-
gree which they have hitherto never known. This ex-
alted consummation, I confidently expect, as not very
remote.
But the most ennobling and gratifying prospect,
* Robert Y. Hayne, of South Carolina.
THE SOUTHWEST. 67
which opens to the citizen of the Southwest, is the ex-
cellence which this section of the Union is to attain in
Literature. I have looked very erroneously upon the
natural advantages of our region ; upon the kind and
character of its inhabitants ; upon the form and na-
ture of its political and social institutions ; upon the
moral causes which are at operation among us ; and at
our prospects in every other respect, if we are not des-
tined to an exalted position in the Kepublic of Letters.
A contemporary poet, not more imaginative than
philosophical, has told us that " coming events cast
their shadows before ;" and, if we may deem the ap-
pearances about us at all indicative of the future, they
surely warrant the anticipation that here the Arts and
Sciences — the whole circle of Belles-lettres — are to
flourish with the freshness and beautv of their Grecian
morning.
This anticipation, Gentlemen of the Erosophic
Society, is particularly appropriate to the present occa-
sion. It blends with, and terminates, the character
and design of your association. Your object is, by
improving yourselves, to improve the Literature of
your country. By Literature, I understand not that
trivial, puerile and evanescent species of composition,
w r hich is produced by love-sick school boys, and bread
and butter misses — not that ginger-bread work of the
fancy, whose highest ambition is to embalm, in immor-
tal nonsense, the miraculous feats and failings of
monks and nuns, of counts and robbers — the very
spawn of distorted intellect — nor yet that phosphoric
effulgence, which gleams luridly, as in the infidel and
68 ORATIONS.
infamouswr i tings of Voltaire and Kousseau, from the
putrid corruptions of the times — but by Literature I
understand those exalted manifestations of mind which
show that the jDeople of a country think for themselves,
think much, think correctly; that their morals, as
well as their intellect, are improved ; that they are
not busied with the frivolous and fantastic incidents
of a day, but that they look to that knowledge which
developes and enlarges all the capacities of man ;
which dwindles the distance between the denizens
of earth and the higher intelligences of heaven ;
and which not only receives its own form and
fashion from the character of the people and the times,
but, as the sea answers to the sun, serves as a mirror
in which those people and times are properly reflected
for their own gratification and improvement, and
which flings back upon them a reforming and beuti-
fying lustre not primitively their own Such is the
Literature of which a nation may be proud. Such was
the view the Abbe Eollin took, when he included in
his course of lectures, at the University of Paris, upon
Belles-lettres, the whole circle of ancient and modern
learning, and such too is the order of Literature,
which I am sure I shall have your warmest sympathies,
in predicting, from her natural, political and social
characteristics, for the Southwest. That the period is
distant when we shall have such a Literature, is per-
haps true ; but that it will come is as certain as that
we shall arrive at great agricultural, commercial and
political power. You, Gentlemen, may not live to see
it; but by using your exertions, throughout life, to
THE SOUTHWEST. 69
develope and improve the intellectual resources of our
region, to disseminate a just appreciation and taste for
the higher branches of learning, and to teach our peo-
ple that there is something more valuable and exalting
in life — something better suited to the destiny of
beings whose immortality, has already begun — than
the mere arts of traffic and amassing money — you
may accelerate the dawn of this ennobling period —
may produce a " circle in the waters," which unlike
the emblem of ambition, will not break by its own
extension !
When this period shall arrive, our section of the
Union will be in its full power and glory ; our history,
our character, our capacities, will be properly under-
stood and appreciated. We may then expect to see
our orators occupying the most conspicuous stations in
the chambers of National Eloquence : our authors
illuminating the age by the philosophy and beauty
of their productions. Then, perhaps, the Genius of
Immortality shall — as in the beautiful emblematic
device of your own Society — place the wreath of Fame
upon the brow of many a native Franklin : and then
the voice of Poetry — not in her character as a prophet,
but as a historian — shall fitly exclaim, in the slightly
altered language of an accomplished female writer of
our own state :
' That, not for northern latitudes alone,
The stars of virtue and of Genius shone ;
These, moving onward from our country's birth
To bless, successive, all its spots of earth,
Shed their full beams' their brightest, and their best,
Upon the regions of the sweet Southwest."
CLAIMS AND CHARACTERISTICS
ALABAMA HISTORY:
AN OKATION
BEFORE THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OP ALABAMA,
AT ITS
^tmifcrersarg at frtstaloosa, |ub 9, 1855.
ORATION.
Gentlemen :
The most elegant of Roman historians, in the intro-
duction to one of his memorable works, complains of
the want, in his time, of associated effort for the col-
lection and preservation of the elements of history.
He tells ns that to individual enterprise it was almost ex-
exclusively left to gather and perpetuate the memorials
of the past, the records of distingushed achievements,
and " the images of those illustrious men, whose exam-
ples powerfully animate to virtue, and enkindle an inex-
tinguishable flame of emulation in the breasts of their
descendants." Thus, the cultivated era of Sallust had
not the advantages of Historical Societies. These, the
most powerful auxiliaries of the recording pen, are the
product of a period of more extended intellectual re-
finement. It is in comparatively modern times, that
the lovers of historical composition, — the generous
minds who would chronicle the deeds and virtues of
their ancestors ; the growth, progress and renown of
74 OBATIONS.
their country ; the advancement of the arts and sciences;
the diffusion of light, liberty, and literature ; the
amelioration of humanity, and all the other chequered
events and influences, which form the life of a people
— leaving lessons of instruction for the future, — have
availed themselves of the obviously vast advantages
derivable from communion in the prosecution of their
laudable efforts. Historical Societies are the most
efficient agencies ever established for the accurate and
comprehensive preparation of history. They not only
seize upon the fleeting memorials temporis acti, — so as
to present the very form and body of the time, more
faithfully and fully, than individual ministry could
perform, — but they rectify, in the light of common
perceptions, the errors of conflicting accounts, the ob-
liquities of personal vision, and the crudities and
inconsistencies of partialities, prejudices and passions,
and serve, at the same time, the lofty offices of critical
judgment and historic philosoj)hy. Such at least
would be the character and functions of such associa-
tions if they were properly conducted.
To every country its own histoiy is of prime impor-
tance. Upon this, its national character and its na-
tional sentiments depend. Patriotism, the first of
civic virtues, can have no intelligent basis, beyond a
blind instinct, save in a just appreciation of the excel-
lences which have marked the career of a country ;—
of the services, sufferings, and devotion of its sons ; of
the justice, beauty and utility of its institutions ; of
its adaptation to the wants of civilized society, and of
the lessons of heroism, philanthropy, and intellectual
ALABAMA HISTORY. 75
and moral grandeur which its annals present. How
essential then, to every State or nation which aspires
to be more than a mere Zahara in history, that its records
should be compiled and embodied, and its chronicles, —
vivified and embellished by the touches of genius, — be
rendered imperishable monuments for future ages.
To aid in this great object is, I repeat, the chief
office and excellence of Historical Associations. The
Society, whose anniversary we commemorate, though
but yet in its infancy; is one of these. The American
States, in their confederated nationality, present the
proudest manifestation of man's moral grandeur, in a
political organism, ever yet given to the world. Each
of these States, though they blend in historical as in
political analogies, has a history of its own, peculiar in
its parts, and demanding separate illustration. This
has led to separate histories of our several republics,
and in most of them to the establishment of Historical
Societies. Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania
and Virginia, have had such institutions for near half
a century, and their scholars, statesmen and worthies
of every class, have taken especial pride in contributing
to their advancement and prosj)erity. How many me-
morials of the fickle fortunes of the times, of the tran-
sitory but yet interesting incidents of the day, of the
services, sacrifices, trials and triumphs of heroes, states-
men, orators, philosophers and divines, have thus been
rescued from the remorseless jaws of time, which, like
another Saturn, loves to devour his own progeny.
Other and younger States have also their flourishing
Historical Societies. I will but mention those of
76 ORATIONS.
Georgia and Louisiana, our neighboring sisters, whose
institutions, though recently established, have contri-
buted largely to the fund of historic knowledge, par-
ticularly as relates to their own territories. They have
garnered from the waste and perishing harvests of the
past, much useful and interesting information, and the
light from these sources, shed over the incidents of
their colonial period, invests them with an interest
that fascinates the student, and makes him linger with
delight over the career of Oglethorpe, or the still more
wonderful adventures of Marquette and La Salle.
To appreciate how much Historical Societies may
do, for the furtherance of History in its most elevated
sense, let us glance at the materials which properly
enter into and compose their collections. Their libra-
ries embrace all the rare and curious books, charts and
manuscripts, which illustrate or bear upon the discov-
ery, exploration, first settlement and future fortunes of
the State. All the materials, however minute or
ephemeral, from which the great narrative of events is
subsequently to be framed, are thus collected together.
Biographies of individuals of all classes, local histo-
ries and sketches, transactions and journals of pub-
lic assemblages, proceedings of legislative bodies,
laws, ordinances, discussions, and debates, judicial trials
and decisions, statistics, essays and addresses, periodi-
cal publications, magazines, reviews and newspapers, —
those " brief abstracts and chronicles of the time," —
all these, — the elements of History — are gathered and
preserved by such associations as this. They are the
disjecta membra, which some future Prometheus is to
ALABAMA HISTORY. 77
combine and harmonize, and inform with that fire from
heaven — the Godlike flame of Genius.
For no portion of our country is such an associa-
tion so important as for our own State of Alabama.
This Society has before it as inviting a field and as
potent inducements as are presented in any other mem-
ber of the Union. Though ours is but one of the
younger States ; though she has no Revolutionary
heraldry ; though the dynasty of the wilderness, with
its red and roving tenants, has but recently passed by ;
though two-score years have not elapsed since the
establishment of our Constitution ; and though but a
small part of our adult population are natives of the
soil, — yet Alabama has a history as extended and
remarkable, as diversified and romantic, as abounding
in strange particulars and incidents, as full of the most
wonderful phases and contrasts of human life in savage
and civilized conditions, and as marked by the bloody
struggles of contending forces, as any other part of our
country ; and over this wide field, so picturesque and
attractive, hangs a misty veil, — a morning fog, wreathed
around its hills and vallies, — which the first dawn
of the sun of- historical research has not entirely lifted
from its repose, so as to render luminous with golden
rays, the attractive regions beyond.
The mission of the Alabama Historical Society is to
penetrate this terra incognita, and to bring its hidden
places to light. Your scope includes the whole extent
of our history from its earliest discoverable period to
the present day. You stand, in some sort as De Soto
did, three hundred and fifteen years ago, with his steel-
78 ORATIONS.
clad chivalry — his centaur-like warriors, and his white
stoled priests, upon the borders of our unexplored ter-
ritory. Far as his eagle-eyes can pierce, from the last
elevated spur of the Look-out Mountains, he beholds
a virgin wilderness of all forests, intersected, like
lines of silver, by giant rivers, along whose banks rove,
in savage and defiant magnificence, the most powerful
of all the primeval races that tenanted this continent.
His purpose is to explore, to conquer, and to reduce
to the uses of civilized man, those boundless regions, in
which he fondly thought to find the golden treasures
of Mexico and Peru, or the still more precious waters of
theFountain of Youth,which was to restore his decaying
faculties and give him an immortality upon earth. The
fabulous narratives of Ponce de Leon, and Pamphilo
Narvaez, had thus brought the lingering remnants of
the Age of Chivalry — of the Flower of Spanish
Knighthood — to expend their last waves upon the
Indian-guarded forests of Alabama.
With far different objects, but in certain similitudes
of research, you stand upon the borders of Alabama
history. It is yours to bring to light all that con-
cerns the primeval condition of our territory — to trace,
with the first explorers, their blood-stained paths,
along our winding rivers and through the heart of
the mighty wilderness ; to fight over with them again
their sanguinary battles ; to view the wild and roman-
tic aboriginal races contest with the invader
every inch of the soil ; to hear that first of patriot
warrriors, the unconquerable Tuscaloosa, peal forth
his kingly battle-cry ; and to see him die with more
ALABAMA HISTORY. 79
than the grandeur of Sardanapalus, amidst the flames
of his sacked and suffering city — the first city of
Mobile. What a field of historic research thus opens
up, even in this imperfect view ! The veil is now
lifted from the condition of the first possessors of our
territory, and their long and curious career, pregnant
with enigmas, and often as silent as the Sphinx of the
Sands, presents itself for philosophic investigation.
Coming on down through the successive eras of French,
British, Spanish, and Anglo-American colonization and
possession, what shifting and motley hues are exhib-
ited in the kaleidoscope of our past. These are the
domains of the Alabama Historical Society. To col-
lect the confused and scattered accounts of these times
long gone ; to draw, from the slumbering Herculaneums
of French, Spanish, and British archives, the original
narratives and reports of the first European exjdorers
and occupants, and render them accessible in our ver-
nacular ; to garner the fast fading memorials of our
Indian progenitors ; and from a later day, to draw
forth, embody, and compile, appropriate narratives of
the adventures of the pioneers of the j3resent popu-
lation, as they gradually, through wars and perils,
and trials of every kind, passed into the bosom
of our State, hewed down the wilderness, opened the
broad and fertile fields, laid the foundation of social
comfort, and civic prosperity, and eventually organized
a State Constitution, distinguished above all others
for its guarantees to freedom of conscience, freedom of
thought, freedom of speech, and freedom of individual
action — to* gather and perpetuate the evidences and
80 ORATIONS.
mementoes of all this, are the functions, the opportu-
nities and the duties of this association.
Will any one say that the field of Alabama History
is devoid of interest and attractiveness, and unworthy
of cultivation ? A superficial glance at its leading
phases would refute the assertion. I think that, even
in the limited space allowed me now, I can show you
that, in all the elements which render history valuable ;
in contributions to a knowledge of human nature under
most novel and remarkable circumstances ; in the pre-
sentation of the finest materials for literary performance,
alike in prose romance, and all the departments of poet-
ry; and in the possession of the noblest subjects for the
graceful offices of painting and sculpture, our past is
truly classic ground, and that there the genius of Prescott
and Irving, of Scott and Cooper, Allston and Weir,
of Powers and Crawford, might have found the richest
opportunities for its exercise. I will glance along at
a few passages which will illustrate my argument, and
may, at the same time, bring to light, times, events
and personages which the recording pencil has not
yet delineated or developed.
Some of the most remarkable and romantic chapters
in our history have already been frequently portrayed.
The story of De Soto, at which I have glanced, is fa-
miliar to all. I shall not dwell upon it, but only re-
mark, that in my estimate, it, above all others, affords
the best opportunity for a great American Epic. The
fierce and fiery chivalry of Spain, with gleaming hel-
mets, and ringnig armor, with champing steeds, and
waving banners, — accompanied by a pious jjriesthood
ALABAMA HISTORY. 81
ever bearing aloft the symbol of Christianity, — push-
ing its way, like the path of some great fiery dragon,
through the immemorial homes of the ever hostile and
untamable savage, whose superstitions were all as gro-
tesque, as his traditions, his manners and customs
were marvellous, — all this, through the noblest region
that the sun ever illuminated, still in its fresh and un-
shorn verdure, — presents a theme from which the
genius of a Homer would have framed more than an
Odyssey, and the warrior-harp of Tasso would have
kindled into as glowing verses as celebrated the Deliv-
ery of Jerusalem. Some youthful American Homer,
not blind like old MaBonides, but eagle-eyed and fiery-
hearted, may yet " fling a poem, like a comet forth,"
worthy of this great Pilgrimage, and of the genius of
our country. Meanwhile, Powell, a native painter, has
given us, in a great Historical picture, the " Discov-
ery of the Mississippi, by De Soto," which deserves its
conspicuous place in our national Pantheon at Wash-
ington.
The period of the possession of Alabama by the
French, is replete with remarkable occurrences and ro-
mantic details. They came with the closing months
of the seventeenth century, and held for sixty-five
years. Besides their principal settlement at Mobile,
they had military and trading posts, at Fort Toulouse,
near the junction of the Coosa and Tallapoosa, on the
recent site of Fort Jackson ; at the mouth of the Ca-
lm wba ; at Jones' Bluff, on the Tombeckbee ; at the
present site of Saint Stephens ; at Nashville, on the
Cumberland ; and at the Muscle Shoals, on the Ten-
82 ORATIONS.
nessee, then called the Cherokee river. The erection
and intercourse of these several stations, and their deal-
ings with the Indians were constantly attended by diffi-
culties, perils, massacres and conflicts, of the most
exciting character. The French traders and mission-
aries were ever bold, adventurous and enterprising, and
it is not extravagant to say that every inch of our terri-
tory was trod by their feet, if not watered by their blood,
more than a hundred years ago. Numerous wars were
also kept up with the Indian tribes, exhibiting instan-
ces of heroism upon both parts. But I cannot notice
them at present. Time will only allow me to dwell
uj)on some of the general characteristics of the French
inhabitants, who varied in number, during this pro-
tracted period, from three hundred to three thousand
persons, dwelling principally at Mobile. They were a
gay, light-hearted, adventurous population. From the
first, their national flexibility and vivacity of temper
enabled them, with conspicuous facility, to ingratiate
themselves with the Indian tribes. Their young men
readily adopted the manners, tastes and pursuits of
the wilderness, and soon became as expert woodmen,
hunters, and trappers, as the natives themselves.
Many a " Hawk-Eye" or " Leather-Stocking" was to
be found among the courieurs de bois from Mobile.
Marriages, temporary, or permanent, with the lithe-
limbed maidens of the Choctaws or Alabamas, formed
links of amity and influence, and gave rise to mixed
races, long after clinging to their paternal names.
The adventures of the forest, along interminable riv-
ers, ovfr lofty mountains, or across flower-enameled
ALABAMA HISTORY. 83
prairies, whether in pursuit of furs and game, or in
the hazardous enterprises of war and traffic, or with the
mild-minded missionary in the dissemination of the
doctrines of the Cross, among the benighted savages,
furnished fascinating topics of narration, with which
the curiosity of the women and children, around the
domestic hearth-stone, was regaled upon the return
of the adventurers. The body of the population, at
Mobile, were however, engaged in small mercantile
avocations, and the constant caravans of Indian po-
nies, laden with packs and kegs and tin-cups, afiorded
picturesque evidences of their inland traffic. Their
persons, their houses, their tables and couches were
decorated or supplied from the spoils of the chase, in
contrast with the embellishments of French finery.
The construction of the town facilitated the nimble
conversations, across the narrow huddled street, from
door to door of the low wide-eaved houses. The
days were generally spent in industry ; the evenings in
dancing and merriment. Many of the colonists had
been gentlemen in France ; some of them of noble or-
igin ; and most of them had pursued military careers.
Spirited and adventurous, they had their packs of dogs,
their guns, their boats, their Indian beauties, with the
influence of a voluptuous climate, and the boundless
opportunities and invitations of a new world, fresh and
blooming, to provoke and minister to their desires and
imaginations. These were the Arcadian days of the
French regime, and such in part, were the characteris-
tics of the population of Mobile, an hundred years
ao;o ! Tenvpora muiantur, et nos mutamur in illis !
84 ORATIONS.
What mind is there, but must be destitute of imagi-
nation, that does not find in times and scenes and con-
ditions like these, — in the picturesque contrasts be-
tween the colonists and their savage neighbors ; in
their wars, skirmishes, captivities, and perilous adven-
tures ; in the fearless Jesuit or the bare-footed Car-
melite threading the wilderness to propagate the tenets
of his creed ; and in the countless diversities of indi-
vidual character, the finest materials for fictitious
composition. What a series of romances, equalling in
interest the Waverley Novels, might be founded upon
the single career of the gallant and chivalrous Bienville,
during the many vicissitudes of his administration as
Governor, for more than forty years. He was the
heroic founder of Alabama — the Father of our State.
The incidents of its early history cluster around him,
like the leaves of the oak around their parent stem, and
the historian or the novelist can scarcely have a finer
theme than to depict his character and career.
The autumn of 1763 saw the dominion of Mobile
and its appendages in the interior pass from France to
Great Britain. They were a part of the acquisitions
of the Seven Years' War, which lost to France all her
possessions in North America. The newly acquired
territory was made a part of West Florida, with
George Johnston, a captain in the Navy, as Governor.
Mobile was taken possession of, on the 20th of
October, by Major Robert Farmer, as the agent of the
King. A regiment of Scotch Highlanders, under Col.
Robertson, was sent to garrison Fort Conde. They
arrived from Pensacola, by way of the Bay. The act
ALABAMA HISTORY. 85
of transfer was signalized by appropriate ceremonies.
The Scottish bag-pipes sounded the national anthem
of England, as the lillies of St. Denys were lowered
from the flag-staff of Fort Conde, and the lion of St.
George elevated in their stead : and afeu dejoie an-
nounced that the name of the fortress, in compliment
to the Queen of Great Britain, was changed to Fort
Charlotte. Soon after, for the purposes of civil juris-
diction, that portion of the province west of the Per-
dido, as far as Pearl river, was erected into a county,
called after the same princess, Charlotte County ; and
appropriate judicial and ministerial officers were ap-
pointed. Some of the papers executed at this period,
and evincing these facts, are now among the records
of the Probate Court of Mobile County.
The period of British possession embraces twenty
years, and includes the era of the American Revolution.
As from this fact it has a peculiar interest, and has
never been described by any writer, I may add some-
thing to the fund of historic knowledge, by dwelling
more protractedly upon a few of its leading incidents
than would otherwise be appropriate. It may, how-
ever, be remarked that we have but little accessible
information as to the condition and progress of affairs
at Mobile and in the interior, during the dynasty of
the British, for when they evacuated the province,
some years after, they carried with them all the doc-
uments referring to this period, and deposited them in
Somerset House, London, " where according to positive
information," says the Spanish Surveyor General, Vin-
cent Pintado, they were to be found in 1817, and tin-
86 ORATIONS.
doubtedly still remain. Would it not be an object
worthy of your association, Gentlemen, to endeavor to
obtain copies of these papers ? Meanwhile, we must
grope our way through obscure chronicles and incidental
allusions, for any information as to this period.
The first British governor of Alabama, Major Eobert
Farmer, appears to have been a personage of marked
peculiarities of character, and, if we may credit the por-
traiture of a French cotemporary at New Orleans,
would form a not unfit companion-piece for the Knick-
erbocker functionaries of Irving, — Walter Von T wilier,
and Peter Stuyvesant. Aubry, writing to the French
government, (May 16, 1765,) says : " The correspon-
dence which I am obliged to have with the English,
who write to me from all parts, and particularly with
the governor of Mobile, gives me serious occupation.
This governor is an extraordinary man. As he knows
that I speak English, he occasionally writes to me in
verse. He speaks to me of Francis I. and Charles V.
He compares Pontiak, an Indian chief, with Mithri-
dates ; he says that he goes to bed with Montesquieu.
When there occur some petty difficulties between the
inhaitants of New Orleans and Mobile, he quotes to
me from the Great Charter (Magna Charta) and the
laws of Great Britain. It is said that the English
Ministry sent him to Mobile, to get rid of him, because
he was one of the hottest in the opposition. He pays
me handsome compliments, which I duly return him,
and, upon the whole, he is a man of parts, but a dan-
gerous neighbor, against whom it is well to be on one's
guard."
ALABAMA HISTORY. 87
This is certainly a graphic sketch of the poetical and
classical predecessor of the later Chief Magistrates of
our State.
The first step of the new authorities was to take
possession of the military and trading establishments
in the interior, which had been partially dismantled by
the retiring French. Toinbeckbee, now Jones' Bluff,
was delivered to Captain Thomas Ford on the 20th of
November ; and a garrison was soon after placed in
Fort Toulouse. These stations respectively comman-
ded the intercourse with the Choctaw and Creek In-
dians.
The spring of the next year saw at Mobile, one of
the largest assemblages of aboriginal chiefs and war-
riors, ever collected in our countrv. It was a congress
of the head-men of all the tribes south of the Ohio,
convened to meet Capt. John Stewart, the British
Suj^erintendent of Indian Affairs in the South. The
career of this functionary is a romance of thrilling in-
terest. He was one of the few survivors of the terrible
massacre at Fort Loudon, on the Tennessee, having
been spared by reason of his popularity with the sava-
ges. The chiefs now nocked to meet him to the num-
ber of more than two thousand, and, with their fantas-
tic equipments, presented a most imposing spectacle
of savage grandeur. They were encamped for many
davs within sight of the frowning battlements of Fort
Charlotte. The Superintendent was a man of elo-
quence and shrewdness, as well as of great experience
and knowledge of Indian character, and he delivered
an able speech, still extant, in Hewitt's History of
88 ORATIONS.
Carolina, which had a powerful influence on all the
tribes, and induced them to enter into the desired
treaty with the British. Only the Six Lower Towns
of the Choctaws, and some of the contiguous Creeks
dissented, and preferred following the banner of the
French to the west of the Mississippi. Thus the many
scattered and nomadic villages of Alabama and Missis-
sippi Indians — the Tensaws, Biloxis, Pascagoulas, and
Alabamas, — which have bewildered some speculative
historians, — made their homes in Louisiana.
Liberal grants of i3ublic land were speedily made,
by the British authorities, to induce settlements in the
interior. These I cannot stop to note. But among
the earliest beneficiaries of the govermental bounty,
was a colony of French Protestants, whose amiable
characters and melancholy fortunes give them a pecu-
liar interest. Their story is but little less romantic
than that of the French Emigrants in Marengo, with
which you are familiar.
Anxious to secure that dearest of earthly privileges,
— "freedom to worship G-od," — they solicited, under
the patronage of the provincial governor, and received
from the King of Great Britain, a large grant of land
upon the Escambia river. This they undertook to
cultivate with the olive, vine and mulberry, and with
rice, indigo, and tobacco, — staples whose culture the
government was solicitous to promote. To the num-
ber of sixteen leading families, embracing sixty-nine
persons, male and female, many of them educated, in-
telligent and refined, accompanied by carpenters, coo-
pers, blacksmiths, tanners, and other artisans, to the
ALABAMA HISTORY. 89
number of two hundred and nine, they were transpor-
ted in the spring of 1767, at the royal expense, to their
concession. At once they entered industriously upon
the purposes of their emigration. Their white cottages
rose amid the live-oak groves of the region, and the
spire of the little neighborhood church pointed its fin-
ger of Protestant faith to the sky. But unfortunately
the next summer and autumn proved one of those
fatal seasons of visitation from " the yellow tyrant of
the tropics/' and well-nigh all of this interesting colony
fell victims to that terrible disease. The Arcadian
scheme of Agricultural life was totally destroyed, and
the few survivors made their way to Pensacola or Mo-
bile, to lament their friends and seek for more salubri-
ous scenes of employment. What materials for descrip-
tion and pathetic delineation would the genial pens of
a Mitford, a Crabbe, or a Wilson have found in this
simple narrative from the Lights and Shadows of Ala-
bama Life !
The period of the American Revolution was now at
hand ; and it will be interesting to learn what relation
our colonists held to that great movement. The
inhabitants of Mobile and Pensacola, as well as of
East Florida, were united in interest, and had but
little intercourse or sympathy with the other British
colonies. They were too weak, too isolated, and felt
too sensibly the gurdian care of the parent government,
to desire independence. Accounts of the earlier strug-
gles of the Revolution reached them, but only produced
a smile of derision at the " Bostonian Liberty Boys/'
as the patriots were termed. A few ardent spirits got
90 ORATIONS.
up a remonstrance against local grievances and the
proceedings of Peter Chester, the Governor, and trans-
mitted it to the British ministry ; but it was utterly-
disregarded. Still the people could not be induced to
unite in the rebellion of the other colonies. Various
efforts were made by Captain James Willing, of Phil-
adelphia, and Oliver Pollock, the agents of the Conti-
nental Congress, to seduce them from their allegiance.
These gentlemen came by way of New Orleans to
Mobile, and circulated clandestinely, many copies of
the Declaration of Independence. But the effort was
a bortive. After many narrow escapes, Captain Willing
was at length apprehended through the vigilance of the
British officers, and was kept closely confined, a part
of the time in irons, in the stone Keep of Fort
Charlotte. He came near expiating his temerity upon
a gallows in the plaza in front of that fortress, but was
eventually exchanged at the close of the year 1779,
for Colonel Hamilton of Detroit, a British officer, upon
whom our government had retaliated for the rigorous
treatment of the imprisoned agent.
But the inhabitants of Mobile, though they would not
participate in the struggle for Independence, were not
to be exempt from the ravages of war attending that
event. Spain took part with France in the hostilities
against Great Britain, and ordered her American sub-
jects to join in the conflict. Galvez, a gallant and
gifted officer, was Governor of Louisiana, and speedily
seized the English establishments at Baton Kouge and
Fort Bute, on Bayou Manchac. He then proceeded to
invest Mobile, with an army of two thousand men.
ALABAMA HISTORY. 91
This force, finely equipped, and provided with artillery,
was brought in vessels, by sea, from New Orleans.
Landing below Choctaw Point, Galvez advanced to the
assault upon Fort Charlotte. This fortress was gar-
risoned by only eighty regular troops, but they were
considerably reinforced by the inhabitants who took
shelter within its staunch and solid stone walls,
which, defended by British troops, were not to be
yielded without a struggle. The Ked Cross at the
top of the flag-staff returned a stern defiance to the
summons to surrender.
The future Viceroy of Mexico, whose name is so
honored in Spanish annals, erected his batteries, six in
number, with heavy artillery, to the north and west of
the Fort. The intervening houses were burned, and a
spirited cannonade was carried on for several days.
At length, on the 14th of March, 1780, a breach in the
walls had been effected, and the commander was com-
pelled to capitulate. Honorable terms were allowed
for the gallantry of the defence ; but the town had suf-
fered severely from the siege. Among the dwellings
destroyed, was the handsome residence of Major
Eobert Farmer, the former " Governor," who had be-
come a rich landholder, but had died a short time
before.
A visitor at the present time to our State emporium
would scarcely imagine that occurrences like these had
ever happened upon its wide and peaceful site, over-
built with graceful edifices and adorned with flowering
gardens ; though it is but only the other day that, in
cutting the foundations for the new City Market,
92 ORATIONS.
the spade of the laborer encountered the still solid
relics of old Fort Conde, which, after having stood for
a hundred and ten years, was destroyed by the orders of
the American Government, that the ground upon
which it stood might be used for more civic and utili-
tarian purposes.
The close of the American Revolution left Mobile
and its dependencies in the hands of Spain, and hers
it remained for thirty years. This era is one of great
interest, and full of events that increase in attractive-
ness, as they approach our own times. But I must
pass them, noticing only a commercial house of large
capital and extensive transactions, which had sprung
up during the British possession, but now became still
more powerful, indeed a ruling influence in the whole
Southwest. It was known under the firm-title first,
of "Panton, Leslie & Co.," and subsequently of "John
Forbes & Co." The partners were intelligent and
enterprising merchants of Scottish origin, and had
branches of their house at Matanzas and Pensacola.
They owned and employed many vessels, and their
principal object was to supply the Indians with every
sj^ecies of merchandize. For many years they had
carried on a large and prosperous business ; but when
Spain took possession of Florida, it became a part of
her policy to obtain the exclusive trade of the Indians,
by drawing it off from the English of Georgia and
South Carolina, For this end, they made treaties
with the Alabamas, Choctaws, and Chickasaws, to
deal only with some one Spanish house, to be chosen
by their chiefs. Panton, Leslie & Co. secured this
ALABAMA HISTORY. 93
rich privilege, by admitting, as a secret member of
their firm, Alexander McGillivray, the celebrated chief
and emperor of the Creek Confederacy. This was the
secret of the influence which the Spaniards ever retained
over that powerful chieftain, and which the authorities
of Georgia and the General Government, with Wash-
ington at its head, could neither understand nor de-
stroy, and it led to the many bloody hostilities in which
they were involved upon the frontiers.
This grasping and powerful house thus established
business connections with all the Southern Indians. In
every tribe and quarter they had their agents and ped-
lars ; drew constant crowds of Indians to their stores
and ware-houses at Mobile and Pensacola ; granted ex-
tensive credits to chieftains and tribes ; despatched
their vessels to the West Indies and Europe, laden with
peltries, furs, and other products of the country ; received
returned cargoes of eveiy variety of merchandize;
amassed immense profits ; and wielded a commercial
power and influence not before or since equaled by any
one house in either of the emporiums of the South.
Some of the partners resided at Mobile, throughout the
Spanish period, in fine residences, elegantly supplied
with the luxuries of taste and comfort; and they
lived in a style of princely magnificence. By taking
the oath of allegiance to the Spanish crown, they
secured the right of citizenship, and became gran-
tees of large tracts of land, which have been subjects
of frequent legal investigation under our government.
The firm was at first composed of John Forbes, Wil-
liam Panton, and John Leslie. The last two retiring,
94 ORATIONS.
John and James Innerarity, brothers, became members
under its second designation. The several associates,
excepting McGillivray, were all related by either con-
sanguinity or marriage, and were connected with
wealthy Spanish families in Cuba.
Towards the termination of its existence, this opu-
lent house found all the Indian tribes largely in its
debt, and was compelled to take from them in pay-
ment extensive tracts of land, which were ceded by
treaty. The Choctaws, thus made compensation for a
debt of more than forty thousand dollars ; and the
Lower Creeks and Seminoles (McGillivray being dead)
granted, in liquidation of a much larger debt, a million
and a half of acres, on theApalachicola. How forcibly
do the fortunes of this house verify, even in the primi-
tive days of Alabama, the assertion of Carlyle, that
" Commerce is King ! "
The lingering dynasty of the Sjmniard fades into
the morning dawn of Anglo-Saxon settlements in our
State. The hour and the man had now come to subdue
and possess the wilderness. As early as the Kevolution,
large bodies of the unfortunate adherents of the British
cause had fled from South Carolina and Georgia,
through the dense and pathless forests between, to the
shores of the Tombeckbee and Mobile Bay. They
laid the first foundations of American inhabitancy in
the counties of Clarke, Washington, and Baldwin.
Some of the stragglers lingered on the way, and inter-
married with the Creek Indians, giving" rise to the half-
breed chieftains, such as the Mackintoshes, the Manacs,
the McQueens, the McGirks, and others subsequently
ALABAMA HISTORY. 95
winning sanguinary celebrities. What an atmosphere
of romance hangs over even this portion of our
story; but how it is deepened and brightened with
sunnier hues, as the streams of population now pour
in, from the eastward, through savage perils, across
giant rivers, and through unopened woods, to the
Southwestern quarter of our State. The various trea-
ties of the French, British and Spanish, with the In-
dians, made this region the resort of the first emigrants.
The experiences of this backwoods life, for more than
twenty years, were quite as singular and wonderful as
those of Boone and Kenton in Kentucky, or Sevier
and Robertson in Tennessee. They had their quarrels
and conflicts with the Spaniards on their Southern bor-
der, and more than one fillibuster enterprise was pro-
jected for the seizure of Mobile.
But time as it passed on and filled these solitudes with
settlers, at last brought the most sanguinary era in
Alabama history. The leading incidents of the war
that begun at Burnt Corn and Fort Mims, and end-
ed at the Horse Shoe — the bloody Illiad, in which the
form of Jackson stands conspicuously forth, a greater
than Achilles — is better known than other chapter in our
annals. The subordinate events of the time, form-
ing the no less interesting, though more private his-
tory of our people, have generally been overlooked,
living only in perishing traditions. The first pioneers
and settlers of our State encountered dangers, priva-
tions and sufferings, and performed heroic actions well
worthy of being registered by the Muse of History.
They were a hardy, gallant, adventurous race. Take
96 ORATIONS.
one, a central figure, as an example. I see before me,
in imagination, as I saw him more than twenty years
ago, the stalwart form, the Herculean proportions, of
Gen. Samuel Dale. He was the Daniel Boone of Ala-
bama. Inured from his boyhood to Indian conflicts
on the frontiers of Georgia, and early trained to all the
wiles and stratagems of savage warfare ; winning the
highest character for dauntless courage, vigilance and
strength ; then a trader among the Creeks and Chero-
kees, exchanging manufactured goods for cattle and
ponies ; then a guide for emigrants along the blind or
blazed paths that led from Georgia to the Tombeck-
bee ; and eventually a settler, with his wife and his axe
in Clarke county, — this man, when the war with the
Indians broke out, was the very man for the time.
The Eed Men of Alabama knew him well, and dreaded
his prowess. In their descriptive language, they
called him Sam 17ilucco, or Big Sam. And well did
he justify, by his performances, the fear of his enemies.
The Canoe Fight, where with only two assistants, he
vanquished nine of the most gallant Creek warriors, is
but one incident in the chronicle of his deeds. On
another day, solitary and alone, he had slain with his
own hands, five warriors, and rescued a female prisoner,
who speedily evinced her gratitude by saving him from
the knife of a sixth foeman, who would otherwise have
succeeded in taking his life.
This is the Representative Man of the era of our War
with the Creeks. And well might his statue tower
in marble in our halls of State. He was a Richard
Cceur de Leon, — a Godfrey of Bouillon — moulded and
ALABAMA HISTORY. 97
fashioned to the circumstances of his forest home.
After the war he served in our Legislature, honored a
new country with his name, and then went to Missis-
sippi, to die in the fulness of years, in May, 1841, hon-
ored and beloved.
Ootemporary with the advent of Dale to South Ala-
bama, was the arrival of another pioneer, of somewhat
kindred though milder taste, in the Valley of the Ten-
nessee, — a hunter rather than a warrior. Stories of the
fertility of that region were circulated early after the
American Eevolution. Hunters and adventurers, who
had explored the wilderness, brought back glowing
accounts of its unexampled loveliness ; its wide sweeps
of luxuriant soil, clothed with the noblest of all forest
trees ; its bold and gushing limestone springs, and
swift streams abounding in fish or suited to ply the
water-wheel ; its game of every variety, — the bear, the
deer, the beaver ; and its pure and genial climate,
locked in by the overtopping mountains of the south
and east, which furnished picturesque views of the in-
viting panorama. This was the favorite border hunt-
ing ground of the Cherokees and the Chickasaws,
which their rivalry had kept sacred from the posses-
sion of either. An ineffectual attempt had been made
as early as 1784, to settle it, by Colonels Kobertson
and Sevier, and Georgia had actually erected it into a
county, denominated Houston, after one of her earlier
Governors; but it was not until July, 1805, that its title
was ceded to the whites by the Indians. About that time
an adventurous pioneer from Tennessee, named Hunt,
penetrated the region, and, charmed by the beauty and
98 ORATIONS.
advantages of the sj)Ot ? erected his cabin on a bold and
elevated bluff overhanging an immense limestone
spring, which poured forth a large stream of clear
crystal water, and around which the wild deer were
wont to collect in great numbers, while he, concealed
in the tops of the surrounding trees, could easily, with
his faithful rifle, pick off as many as he wished of his
favorite game. Soon other adventurers sought the
S]3ot, and a village sprang into existence, forming the
nucleus of the population which flowed rapidly from
Tennessee, North Carolina and Kentucky, into the
adjacent fertile lands. Madison county was estab-
lished in December, 1808, and the next year the vil-
lage was incorporated under the name of Twickenham,
after the villa of the illustrious author of the " Essay
on Man," some of whose collateral connections were
among its first settlers. But the democratic inhabi-
tants did not fancy the poetical designation, and at
the next session of the Territorial legislature, the
original name of Huntsville, in honor of its first found-
er, was restored to the picturesque and thriving
village. It is no idle or uninteresting reverie to stand
upon the summit of 3£ontesana, and, while gazing down
upon the broad and cultured panorama of the Ten-
nessee Valley, with its now flourishing capital, lying
in a white and green mosaic of loveliness at your feet,
thus to recall the incidents of the first settlement of
North Alabama.
But scarcely had the adventurous pioneers opened
the woods and erected their cabins in the pine forests
of what is now Clarke, Washington and Monroe
ALABAMA HISTORY. 99
counties, and in the distant and secluded recesses of
Madison, when the period arrived, of the most terrific
and destructive Indian wars that have ever occurred in
the United States, baptising our soil with blood. It
was my intention, while anticipating this address, to
have dwelt upon the history and characteristics of our
Aborigines, as most forcibly illustrating my theme.
But non nobis nunc hoc perficere. Time, and the
evident though unavoidable tediousness of a narrative
discourse, admonish me to forbear. I may however
remark, that the Eed Men of Alabama, if properly re-
viewed, would be found to present more interesting
facts and features, upon a more extended scale, than
any other American tribes. The peculiarities which
had ever invested the character of the Indian with so
much romantic interest, making him the chosen child
of fable and of song, were here exhibited in bolder re-
lief than elsewhere. In numbers ; in the extent of
their territories, all converging to the heart of our
State ; in their wide and terrific wars ; in intercourse
and traffic with the whites ; in the mystery of their
origin and migration ; in the arts, rude though they
were, which gradually refine and socialize man ; in their
political and religious forms, arrangements, and cer-
emonies ; in manifestations of intellectual power —
sagacity and eloquence ; and in all those strange moral
phenomena, which marked " the stoic of the woods,
the man without a tear," — the native inhabitants of
our soil surpassed all the other primitive nations, north
of Mexico. The study of their history is peculiarly
our province, — for they are indissolubly connected not
100 ORATIONS.
only with the past, but the present and future of the
State.
Yes ! " though they all have passed away, —
That noble race and brave,
Though their light canoes have vanished
From off the crested wave ;
Though, 'mid the forests where they roved,
There rings no hunter's-shout, —
Yet their names are on our waters,
And we may not wash them out !
Their memory liveth on our hills,
Their baptism on our shore, —
Our everlasting rivers speak
Their dialect of yore !"
'Tis heard where Chattahoochee pours
His yellow tide along ;
It sounds on Tallapoosa's shores,
And Coosa swells the song;
Where lordly Alabama sweeps,
The symphony remains ;
And young Cahawba proudly keeps,
The echo of its strains ;
Where Tuscaloosa's waters glide,
From stream and town 'tis heard,
And dark Tombeckbee's winding tide
Repeats the olden word ;
Afar where nature brightly wreathed
Fit Edens for the Free,
Along Tuscumbia's bank 'tis breathed
By stately Tennessee ;
And south, where, from Conecuh's springs,
Escambia's waters steal,
The ancient melody still rings, —
From Tensaw and Mobile !
The Thirty Battles, fought by Weatherford and his
dusky followers, with Claiborne, Flournoy, and Jack-
son, and terminated by the treaty on the site of Fort
ALABAMA HISTORY. 101
Toulouse, in August, 1814, lost to the Creeks all their
dominions west of the Coosa. The astonishing celerity
with which the conquerors prosecuted the war is one
of its most notable characteristics. The battle of Tal-
lashatchee was faught the third of November ; Talla-
dega, the tenth ; Hillabee, the eighteenth ; Autossee,
the twenty-ninth ; Emuckfaw, the twenty-second of
January, 1814 ; Echanachaca, or the Holy Ground,
the twenty-third ; Enotichopco, the twenty-fourth ,
and To-hope-ka, or the Horse Shoe, the twenty-
seventh of March. These, with numerous smaller en-
gagements, almost exterminated the nation. Not less
than four thousand warriors are believed to have fallen
victims to their wild fanaticism and martyr-like
courage.
Alabama emerged, like Miriam, from the Ked Sea
of her struggles, and now a new era of growth and
prosperity began. The streams of population flowed
rapidly into all parts of the interior of our State. I
can follow only one, — for its present interest.
The spot upon which we are assembled, with an in-
definite strip of territory on both banks of the Black
Warrior (originally called the CJwctaw,) to its junction
with the Tombeckbee, had been, from time immemorial,
a neutral ground between the Creeks and Choctaws.
Both tribes abstained from its occupancy. About the
year 1809, however, a Creek Chief named Oseeche-
ematJila, obtained permission from the Choctaws to
establish a settlement near the falls of the Black War-
rior, for the purpose of facilitating trade with the
American Factory at St. Stephens, then under the
102 ORATIONS.
charge of Col. George S. Gaines. This settlement,
which speedily grew into a village, was just below
what is now known as New Town. Its Chieftain was
in the habit of purchasing on credit, annually from the
Factory, about one hundred and fifty dollars' worth of
goods, which he retailed to the Indians. In the spring
of 1812, he went to St. Stephens, and boasting of a
great increase in his business, was extremely solicitous
to obtain credit to the amount of $1,000. The suspi-
cions of the Factor were aroused, and he refused to
enlarge the bill beyond its ordinary size. That night,
Tandy Walker, an old and astute Indian trader,
gleaned from some of the incautious and maudlin com-
panions of the merchant-chief, that the Creeks were
preparing for war. The Indians departed with their
goods, which were never paid for, as hostilities were
commenced in a few weeks by the Battle of Burnt
Corn, and the Massacre at Fort Mims. The Indian
village of Tuscaloosa, so called from an immemorial
family name among the Choctaws, soon witnessed
some of the effects of the war. A party of hostile
warriors had made an incursion into Tennessee, and
after many murders, made prisoner Mrs. Crawley, an
interesting and intelligent woman, whom they brought
to Tuscaloosa and detained in captivity. News of her
situation reaching Col. Gaines, he induced the fearless
and adventurous Tandy Walker, to undertake her lib-
eration. This he accomplished with a skill worthy of
any of Cooper's heroes ; and the fair prisoner was safely
conducted to St. Stephens, whence she was sent by
that noble pioneer of our State, whose name is worthy
ALABAMA HISTORY. 103
of all praise for his services at this period, — Col.
Gaines, — to her friends in Tennessee. The insolent
savages at Tuscaloosa, not long after, met a deserved
retribution. The friendly Choctaws under Pushma-
taha, with a band of Chickasaws led by Col. John
McKee, subsequently for many years Eepresentative
in Congress from this District — in October, 1813, at-
tacked the village and reduced it to ashes, — most of
the inhabitants having fled. The spot remained
abandoned until after the war, when in 1816, the first
settlers, Emanuel York and John Barton, from Ten-
nessee, pitched their tents and raised their crops of
corn on the beautiful upland jxlain where now stands
the city of Tuscaloosa. The harvests of the next year
were reaped by a considerable population ; the outlines
of the future town were laid out ; and in January,
1818, the Alabama Territorial Legislature, then in its
first session at St. Stejmens, established the county of
Tuscaloosa. The ensuing spring, Thomas M. Daven-
port, an enterprising printer, commenced the publica-
tion of the " Tuscaloosa Kepublican," a weekly news-
paper, which in twelve months, took the name of the
" American Mirror," which was continued to a period
within the memory of many of my audience.
The flight of the honey-bee is said to mark the pro-
gress of the Anglo-American race ; but the presence
of the printing press is a surer index of its growth in
intelligence and refinement ; and, in this connection, I
may state that the first newspaper ever published in
Alabama, was the "Madison Gazette/' at Huntsville,
in 1812. " The Halcyon" was established at St. Ste-
104 ORATIONS.
phens, 1814, by Thomas Eastin, who became the first
Territorial printer, executing the Laws and Journals
of the first Legislative Assembly. A man named
Cotton commenced the earliest newspaper at Mobile.
in November, 1816. It was called the " Mobile Ga-
zette and General Advertiser." In 1820, " The Clar-
ion" was published at Claiborne; " The Free Press/'
and the " Alabama Watchman" at Cahawba ; and
the " Republican," at Montgomery, by J. Battelle.
These were the exponents and avant couriers of the
rapidly increasing intelligence of their respective com-
munities. It may also be added, that " Green Acad-
emy," at Huntsville, still in existence, was the first
organized institution of learning in Alabama, having
been incorporated by the Mississippi Territorial Legis-
lature, in November, 1812. " Washington Academy,"
in Washington county, had been chartered a year pre-
viously, but did not go into operation until some time
after. From these simple primitive sources — these
small Castalian fountains, — originated the streams of
knowledge, which now, with more than the fertilizing
influence of the Nile, and with richer deposits than the
golden sands of the Pactolus, irrigate our soil, and
flow with a converging wealth and beauty, into that
noblest of Southern educational institutions, the Uni-
versity of Alabama, thence to diffuse throughout the
State, as has already been done, despite the cavils of
the insolent and the ignorant, in the persons of her
Alumni, the noblest of influences for the promotion of
the intellectual, moral and social welfare of our people.
Standing here, with the bridge of time behind me,
ALABAMA HISTORY. 105
which I have crossed for this presence, — after an ab-
sence of more than twenty years, — with its memories
and its merits crowding upon my mind, and the ex-
emplars of its excellence all about me, and chief of
them, its distinguished President, (the Rev. Dr. Manly,)
who is about retiring, amid the regrets of the whole
State, from the station he has so honored and adorned,
I can but exclaim,
" Salve magna parens, Saturnia tellus,
Magna virum /"
This local termination brings me to the conclusion
of my address. Have I not, Gentlemen, sufficiently
vindicated the claims of our history to the study and
research of our scholars ? Have I not shown that,
though obscured through hither neglect, by the fast
gathering twilight of time, and buried amid crumb-
ling ruins and accumulated dust, it has treasures, the
richest, to repay for exploration and development ?
There is a chamber in the Mammoth Cave of Ken-
tucky, whose stalactites are said to be luminous. It
is thus with the almost subterranean halls in which
the memorials of our past lie concealed. We push our
way through the dimness, and across the barriers, to
our French, Spanish, British, Aboriginal, and Anglo-
American eras, and by patient efTort and studious toil
advance until their long hidden beauties hang brilliantly
before us. The lovers of literature, in all its depart-
ments, find there the precious metals, which might be
moulded into all the most graceful and elegant forms
of thought. The stimulants to an intelligent and ap-
106 ORATIONS.
preciative love of country are there. Shall these
treasures continue to lie unused and unregarded ?
This Society becomingly answers the question. It has
undertaken to supply for our State what Sallust lamen-
ted as wanting at Konie. Its members are performing
an important public service, and will receive the thanks
of posterity. To their own minds also, their exertions
will be productive of benefit ; for, as the great English
moralist has happily said, " whatever withdraws us
from the power of our senses ; whatever makes the
past, the distant, or the future predominate over the
present, — advances us in the dignity of thinking be-
ings." Go on, then, Gentlemen, energetically in your
noble undertaking, consoled by the assurance that you
are collecting the materials that shall illustrate and
embellish the annals of your State, in the far distant,
when they shall receive the plastic touch and vivifying
breath of some future Xenophon or Polybius, some
Tacitus or Livy, who, like the Hebrew prophet, shall
bid the dry bones — live !
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE :
AN ORATION"
BEFORE THE
In ftappa nub gemostbcnutn: Societies of % Itmbctsiig of (Sforgia,
AT
ATHENS, AUGUST 8, 1844.
ORATION.
Gentlemen of the Literary Societies :
The return to scenes, with which we have been
familiar in early life, constitutes much of the pathos
and poetry of manhood. The changes time has made
in each once familiar object, the developement into new
life and beauty of some, the decay, the significant ab-
sence, of others, impress us with mingled emotions of
pride and tenderness. We look with a calm gratifica-
tion upon the improvements that have been made ;
we mourn, with a patient sorrow, for those things,
which, too obviously, have passed away from the earth
forever. Such are my emotions to-day. You have
called me back, from a distant home, over a wide in-
terval of years, to the scene of my earliest collegi-
ate life. I have come, gratefully, at your bidding, and
find well-nigh all things changed about me. The
unadorned edifice, in which prayer was wont to be said,
and where the feeble voice first attempted to pitch its
tones to the music of eloquence, has passed from the
view, and this beautiful temple, with its architectural
110 ORATIONS.
elegance, now occupies the site. The fair village, that
then lay in almost pastoral quiet amid its embowering
trees, has become a populous town, the home of culti-
vated wealth, and the mart of an active and far-reach-
ing commerce. But the greatest changes have occurred
with those who then gave life and social pleasure
to the scene. Where are the young forms that bound-
ed in the elasticity and luxuriance of untamed feeling,
upon yonder grassy slope when last I looked upon it ?
All gone and changed ; scattered through all parts of
this busy, diversified land of ours. Some of them are
holding high trusts in Legislatures and Congresses,
winning proud reputations for statesmanship and elo-
quence ; others fill noble places in the pulpit, and
professor's chair ; and I have met not a few amid the
pine forests and wide prairies of Alabama, engaged in
the hot-handed struggle, at the hustings or the bar-
becue, for this or that presidential aspirant. But alas !
when I again have asked for others, I have been ans-
wered, in melancholy tones, that then* names have
been carved, for many a season, upon the marble of the
grave-yard !
One other remembrance comes before me at this
hour. I see the form of the venerable individual who
presided over this institution, at the period of my first
entrance into its halls. Through a long life, he has
devoted himself, with the love of a christian, and the
capacities of a scholar, to the intellectual and moral
elevations of the young men of the South. His ex-
ertions have been most nobly rewarded. Hundreds,
under his guidance, have passed up the paths of use-
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. Ill
fulness, and reflected light upon the institutions of the
country. He has been the foster-parent and vivifying
spirit of this University. Now, — at the period to
which I revert, — in the fullness of his fame, and
while the sun of his life is sinking amidst the mellowed
clouds of three score years and ten, he is about to
sever his connection with this institution. I remem-
ber the morning when we marched in procession to his
residence, to take our leave of him. I see him stand-
ing bare-headed beneath the grove, affectionately
grasping the hand of each student as we passed, and
fervently ejaculating, in a voice tremulous with emotion,
while the tears ' streamed from his eyes, " God bless
you, my sons \" A few years, — and the venerable
patriarch was borne from the scene of his earthly use-
fulness to the beatitudes of the Just ; but, while the
walls of this institution remain, they will stand a fit-
ting monument to the memory of Moses Waddell.
At the same period, to which my memory now goes
back, another distinguished individual shed the light
of his intellect and the influence of his example, upon
this community. Though his life was not spent in the
quiet bowers of literature, but in the turbulent field of
politics, yet he united much of the gracefulness of the
scholar with the solidity of the statesman, and was ever
active in the promotion of those enterprises, which have
for their object the diffusion of intelligence and virtue
among the people. Neither the blandishments of office,
nor the voluptuousness of foreign courts could corrupt
his republican simplicity, and he was, in all the leading
features of his character, the model of an American
112 ORATIONS.
statesman. This Georgia of yours owes him a debt of
gratitude for his services in the federal councils, and
not till talents and integrity, patriotism and stateman-
ship are unappreciated in the land of Oglethorpe, will
she neglect the fame of her Crawford.
Not inappropriate to the subject, upon which I pro-
pose to address you to-day, are these reminiscences of
two of the most eminent men in the history of this
State. They both struggled for the same end, — the
elevation of the best interests of our country. The one
sought to accomplish this by giving a proper impulse
and direction to our political institutions ; the other
placed his chief hope of regeneration, in the establish-
ment and diffusion of an elevated intellectual system.
The one was a statesman — the other a scholar. Herein
then we recognize, to some extent, our subject, which
is to include a discussion of the influence, upon mental
developement, of the physical, social and political
characteristics of our country, and which I therefore call
Americanism in Literature. An enquiry into the
modifications, which our forms of government, as well
as our other peculiarities, are destined to work in that
chiefest of a nation's interests, its inellectual efflores-
cence, can never be devoid of interest on an occasion
like this, if at all philosophically conducted. There are
lessons kerneled in such an enquiry, for the instruction
of the statesman as well as the scholar.
But, at the outset, let us look a little into the legiti-
mate purposes of both governments, and literatures.
Mankind too frequently mistake these for ends, when
they are only means for the achievement of an end.
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 113
They are but instruments whereby to accomplish the
great design for which man was created. And what
is that ? Is it to hold Congresses, crown kings, write
poems, fight battles, invent steam engines, or build
magnetic telegraphs ? Oh no ! These are but epi-
sodes in the great epic of immortality. There is a
higher design, an ulterior purpose. What then is that ?
I repeat. For what did God make man, and place
him on this revolving globe ? Is there any key to this
mystery of life and motion ? Why do the constant
generations come and go athwart this earth like the
waves of the sea upon a coast of breakers ? Why this
ceaseless production and reproduction ? For what was
this great complex machinery of worlds, and centuries,
and seasons, and souls, — thought, sunshine and vegeta-
tion, — life, death, resurrection, — fashioned into shape
and motion, and hung out in the heaven of time ?
What good does it do ? What end can it accomplish ?
Ah ! these are the old enigmas, which no (Edipus has
solved. Reason, revelation, only let us know that man
is an immortal, ethical being, and that the great law
of his nature is incessant progress, — progress to the
infinite, the eternal, the omniscient, the perfect. Ever
onward, never attaining ! All things, when aright,
move upward, unceasingly, (by a great spiral revolu-
tion,) to the unattainable throne of God !
This moral law obtains in this world as well as in
the next. Bards and prophets from the old centuries,
have foretold and prayed for a state of intellectual and
moral perfection ; not the wild dream of a Condorcet,
but a social millenium, when between the smiling
114 ORATIONS.
hemispheres of beauty and refinement, the world
should roll round in the warm flush, the purpureum
lumen, of Divine intelligence and love. For this we
implore when we say, " Thy kingdom come!" Not
only do we invoke a moral dynasty, but also, an
intellectual. The two must go together. God is all
intellect, as well as all love ! Literature, in its purity,
no less than religion, is a scion of his beneficence, and
one of his provisions for the redemption of man. All
human institutions, whether intellectual or political,
should contribute to this great law of progress. Un-
less they are founded upon and vivified by its spirit,
they have no right to be. They are tyrannies and
falsehoods, and should be extinguished. In every
enquiry then, as to the value or validity of a govern-
ment or literature, we should measure them by this
standard, judge of them by this rule.
Bad governments and bad literatures tend ever to
the demoralization of the human family. They not
only retard, but roll back the wheels of progress. The
old tyrannies, and their intellectual systems, were
manifestations and promoters, not of civilization, but
of barbarism. Kadically wrong in their whole philoso-
phies of man and life, they led upward to no glorious
zenith, but lay, like stagnant oceans, weltering in rot-
tenness and error, breathing pestilence, woe, and degra-
dation. This, in main part, is why man, in the sixty
centuries, has risen so little above his primeval
condition.
But in modern times, a better philosophy of both
Government and literature has begun to prevail.
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 115
Mankind have learned that governments are somewhat
more than games or machines kept in curious motion
for the amusement and edification of rulers ; and lite-
ratures are beginning to be regarded, not as the phan-
tasmagoria of poets and dreamers, the sunset scaffold-
ings of fancy, but as something very far beyond that.
The old secret has come out, that man's immortality
has already begun, and, by these things, you are mould-
ing and fashioning him in his destinies forever.
Surely now, no enquiry can be more appropriate or
profitable than whether this American Government,
this American Literature of ours, in what they are
now, and are destined to be, correspond with the prin-
ciples and designs of Providence, in the creation of
man : that is, are they in faith with the great law of
intellectual and social progression ? The question is
double, but it may still be answered affirmatively. In
my judgment, there has never been a social organism in
which the two greatest motive powers of elevation,
government and literature — for under literature I now
include religion — were more happily accommodated, or
gave " fairer promise of a goodly morrow/' from their
reciprocal operations, than in this young twenty-six
headed giant of the West. Let Sydney Smith sneer
as he may, but verily this Americanism of ours, with
all its physical, historical and political aspects, is des-
tined to be, as it already has been, a powerful influence
on man, and will necessarily modify and fashion the
literature of the world. Literature, in its essence, is a
spiritual immortality ; no more than religion a creation
of man ; but, like the human soul, while enduring the
116 OKATIONS.
mystery of its incarnation, is subject to the action of
the elements, is the slave of circumstance. In the
sense in which I would now view it, it is the expression
of the spiritual part of our nature, in its intellectual
actios, whether taking form in philosophy, history,
poetry, eloquence, or some other braach of thought.
The sum of all this, in any nation, is what constitutes
her literature, and it is always modified and colored by
the peculiarities about it. As the river, sliding under
the sunset, imbibes, for the time, the hues of the
heavens, so the stream of literature receives, from the
people through which it passes, not only the images and
shadows of their condition, but the very force and direc-
tion of its current. Every literature, Greek or Koman,
Arabic or English, French, Persian or German,
acquired its qualities and impression from the circum-
stances of the time and people. The philosophic eye
can readily detect the key, cause and secret of each,
and expose the seminal principle from which they grew
into their particular shape and fashion. The same
scrutinizing analysis will enable us to determine the
influences among ourselves, which are to operate in the
formation of our literature; as well as to decide
whether it will comport with those high spiritual requi-
sitions which, I have already avowed, should be
demanded from it. Let us then attempt to see how
Americanism will develope itself in Literature. We
shall discuss some of its preliminary conditions first.
1. The physical attributes of our country are all
partial to the loftiest manifestations of mind. Nature
here presents her loveliest, sublimest aspects. For
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 117
vastness of extent, grandeur of scenery, genial diversi-
ties of climate, and all that can minister to the comforts
and tastes of man, this heritage of ours is without
a parallel. In its mountains of stone and iron, its
gigantic and far-reaching rivers, its inland seas, its
forests of all woods, its picturesque and undulating
prairies, in all its properties and proportions, it
might well be considered, in comparison with the East-
ern Hemisphere, the work of a more perfect and benefi-
cent artist. To the eyes of the Genoese mariner,
the wildest dreams of Diodorus and Plato -were more
than realized. Seneca sang :
" Venient annis
SaBcula seris, quibus oceanus
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens
Pateat tellus, Typhisque novos
Detesat orbes:"
r^> 1
Yet not even in the mirror of his prophetic fancy were
these more than Elysian fields glassed with all their
beauty and sublimity. Even the bilious British satirist,
who could see no good in all our institutions, was com-
pelled to confess that here
" Nature showed
The last ascending footsteps of the God !"
Well-nigh all this vast expanse of fruitfulness and
beauty, too, has been subjected to the control of civil-
ized man. Our country has extended her jurisdiction
over the fairest and most fertile regions. The rich
bounty is poured into her lap, and breathes its influence
upon her population. Their capacities are not pent
118 ORATIONS.
and thwarted by the narrow limits which restrict the
citizens of other countries. No speculating theorist, a
Malthus, Stultz, or Liceto, has cause, here, to appre-
hend the dangers of over-population. Koom, bountiful
room, is all about us, for humanity to breathe freely
in, and to go on expanding in a long future. — Do these
things afford no promise of intellectual improvement ?
Are they no incitements to a lofty and expanded litera-
ture ? Do they furnish no materiel for active, generous,
elevated thought ? Is there no voice coming out from
all this fragrance and beauty and sublimity, appealing
to the heart and fancy of man, for sympathy, utterance,
embodiment ? Why, it was once said, that the sky of
Attica would make a Boeotian a poet ; and we have
seen even " the red old hills of Georgia" draw inspiring
melody from the heart of patriotic genius. — Physical
causes have always operated in the formation and
fashioning of literature. In all the higher productions
of mind, ancient and modern, we can easily recognize
the influence of the climate and natural objects among
which they were developed. The sunsets of Italy
colored the songs of Tasso and Petrarch ; the vine-
embowered fields of beautiful France are visible in all
the pictures of Kousseau and La Mar tine ; you may
hear the solemn rustling of the Hartz forest,- and the
shrill horn of the wild huntsman, throughout the crea-
tions of Schiller and Goethe ; the sweet streamlets and
sunny lakes of England smile upon you from the
graceful verses of Spenser and Wordsworth ; and the
mist-robed hills of Scotland loom out in magnificence
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 119
through the pages of Ossian, and the loftier visions of
Marmion and Waverly.
Our country, then, must receive much of the cha-
racter of her literature from her physical properties.
If our minds are only original ; if they be not base
copyists, and servile echoes of foreign masters ; if we
assert an intellectual as well as political independence ;
if we dare to think for ourselves, and faithfully picture
forth, in our own styles of utterance, the impressions
our minds shall receive from this great, fresh continent
of beauty and sublimity ; — we can render to the world
the most vigorous and picturesque literature it has ever
beheld. Never had imagination nobler stimulants ;
never did nature look more encouragingly upon her
genuine children. In poetry, romance, history and elo-
quence, what glorious objects, — sights and sounds, for
illustration and ornament ! — I have stood, down in Flor-
ida, beneath the over-arching groves of magnolia, orange
and myrtle, blending their fair flowers and voluptu-
ous fragrance, and opening long vistas between their
slender shafts, to where the green waters of the Mexican
Gulf lapsed upon the silver-sanded beach, flinging up
their light spray into the crimson beams of the declining
sun ; and I have thought that, for poetic beauty, for
delicate inspiration, the scene was as sweet as ever
wooed the eyes of a Grecian minstrel on the slopes of
Parnassus, or around the fountains of Castaly.
Again : I have stood upon a lofty summit of the
Alleghanies, among the splintered crags and vast
gorges, where the eagle and the thunder make their
home ; and looked down upon an empire spread out
120 ORATIONS.
in the long distance below. Far as the eye could
reach, the broad forests swept away over territories
of unexampled productiveness and beauty. At in-
tervals through the wide champaign, the domes and
steeples of some fair town, which had sprung up
with magical suddenness among the trees, would
come out to the eye, giving evidence of the presence
of a busy, thriving population. Winding away through
the centre too, like a great artery of life to the scene,
I could behold a noble branch of the Ohio, bearing
upon its bosom the already active commerce of the
region, and linking that spot with a thousand others,
similar in their condition and character. As I thus
stood, and thought of all that was being enacted in
this glorious land of ours, and saw in imagination, the
stately centuries as they passed across the scene, dif-
fusing wealth, prosperity and refinement, I could not
but believe that it jDresented a nobler theatre, with
sublimer accompaniments and inspirations, than ever
rose upon the eye of a gazer from the summits of the
Alps or the Apennines.
Such are some of the physical aspects of our country,
and such the influence they are destined to have upon
our national mind. Very evidently they constitute
noble sources of inspiration, illustration and descrip-
tion. For all that part of literature which is drawn
from the phases of nature, from the varying moods
and phenomena of the outward world, the elements
and the seasons, they will be more valuable than all
the beauties of the Troad or Campania Felix. Eightly
used, they would bring a freshness and spirit into the
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 121
domain of high thought, which would revive it like a
spring-time return, and we might take up, in a better
hope, the exultation of Virgil, —
" Jam ultima setas Cumali carminis venit,
Magnus ordo soeclorum nascitur ab integro,
Et jam virgo redit, Saturnia regna redeunt !"
2. These pleasant anticipations are also justified in
part, by the excellent and diversified character of the
population of our country. Herein will reside one of
the strong modifying influences of Americanism upon
literature. Though our population is composed prin-
cipally of the several varieties of the Anglo-Saxon
stock, yet every other race of Europe, and some from
the other continents, have contributed to swell the
motley and singular combination. Coming from every
quarter of the globe, they have brought with them
their diverse manners, feelings, sentiments, and modes of
thought, and fused them in the great American alembic.
The stern, clear-headed, faith-abiding Puritan, the
frank, chivalrous, imaginative Huguenot, the patient,
deep-thoughted, contemplative German, — pligrims from
every clime, creed, and literature, — are to be found in
contact and intercourse here. They interact upon
each other to fashion all the manifestations of society,
in thought or deed. The contrasts and coincidences,
they present under our institutions, afford new and
graceful themes for the poet, the novelist and the
philosopher ; and the historian will have to give us
pictures of life and humanity here, such as are found
not elsewhere. I need but allude, in this connec-
tion, to the existence of three distinct races of men
122 ORATIONS.
upon our continent, with their strongly marked pecu-
liarities of conditon, color and history. The immense
rapidity with which our numbers are increasing — well
nigh doubling in every fifteen years ! — will produce an
unexampled demand for knowledge, and act as a pow-
erful impetus to its elevation. Already has the great
and fluctuating intermixture of our population had an
influence upon the English language. In no part of
the world is our mother tongue spoken with such gen-
eral purity of pronunciation, as in our country. The
constant tide of internal emigration tends to rectify the
provincialisms into which stationary communities so
frequently fall. Otherwise is it even in England.
The whole kingdom is broken up into dialects as nume-
rous as her counties ; and the respective inhabitants are
almost as unintelligible to each other, as if they spoke
languages radically distinct. Is it Utopian to expect
the proudest results, when one common language shall
be employed by the many millions who are to occupy
this almost illimitable republic ? — But, it is upon the
strong, industrious and wholesome character of our
population, that the best hope of our national mind
depends. Their habits of life will generate a muscu-
larity of intellect, becoming their position and destiny.
No effeminacy of thought or feeling will be tolerated
among a people, composed of the choicest varieties of
every race, stimulating each other to mental exertion,
and accumulating wealth and power with almost mi-
raculous rapidity and extent. Such a people, if they
should have no powerful impediments, are better fitted
than any other to render the world an intellectual illu-
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 123
ruination, and to bring round in reality the poetic
vision of the golden age.
3. Pass we now to the consideration of the most po-
tent influence of Americanism in Literature : the form
and spirit of our political institutions. — If there is a
truth strongly exemplified in history, it is, that free
governments are the best calculated of any, to promote
the intellectual and moral progress of man. Of all
the vast tyrannies of antiquity, how few contributed
to the advancement of letters ! There is not in exist-
ence a line of verse or philosophy by Chaldean,
Babylonian, Assyrian or Phoenician author. Pop-
ulous, powerful and magnificent as those kingdoms
were, they yet stand in history like the huge pyramid
of human skulls which Tamerlane erected before the
gates of Damascus, great, dumb monuments of human
misery and oppression. In beautiful contrast are all
the free states of the past. Under their genial insti-
tutions, the arts, the sciences and the refinements of
life rose into prosperity and beauty, and, like the
swinging flower-gardens of oriental sumptuousness,
diffused a fragrance which still floats upon the breezes
of history. This is particularly true of Athenian,
Roman and Italian literatures. Just in proportion to
the liberty existing among them at their respective
eras, was the extent, the luxuriance of their mental
developement. It is so in the nature of things. Ty-
rannies are restrictions upon thought and its utter-
ance. Their every influence must be directed to the
suppression of those great truths of philosophy, re-
ligion, poetry and life, which are the soul and efflu-
124 ORATIONS.
ence of every genuine literature, and which great men,
the prophets, and apostles, and martyrs of thought,
are sent into the world to preach. It is true that,
under monarchies, there have sometimes been glorious
revelations of genius, learning and intellectual luxury,
as in the eras of Augustus, Louis XIV., and Elizabeth;
yet they were either outbursts of coming or going
freedom, or contained, in themselves, but little that
could add to the elevation or happiness of the mass of
men. How few truths, tributary to the perfect law
of life, were brought to light by any, the most gor-
geous, of these intellectual dispensations !
But this government of ours is established upon
principles more genial to the literature of humanity,
than any other that has ever existed. The noble,
broad, philosophic truths at the basis of our consti-
tution, the rocks upon which our house is built, are
all conducive to intellectual development. The fun-
damental maxim, that all men are politically equal,
which has done so much to elevate humanity, infuses
into literature a new spirit, as well as into govern-
ment. The man of genius now, however obscure
his parentage, or humble his condition, can proudly
hold up his head, in the light of the common sun, un-
restricted, unabashed, by any of the miserable fictions
of prerogative, and utter forth, in the emphasis of
thunder, the solemn truths he has learned in the Pat-
mos of his imagination, and which shall make all
mankind feel that the propitious bend of the heaven
comes equally close to every descendant of Adam. In
its whole organism, our government provides for the
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 125
unrestrained exercise of mind. This is the permeat-
ing spirit of our political fabric. The sages and
statesmen who received their lessons of wisdom be-
tween the clouds and thunder, covering the Sinai of
the Kevolution, knew that literature had always been
the truest friend of the rights of man, and they con-
sequently provided, in all our fundamental charters,
for the encouragement of the faithful instructress.
Freedom of conscience, freedom of thought, freedom
of speech, and freedom of the press, the essentials of
literature, are the pillars of our national edifice. No
other government has ever held out, in itself, so many
incitements to intellectual action. There is a pervad-
ing necessity for the application of high thought to
its management, in every department. About its
movements there is nothing of brute force ; all pro-
ceeds under the guidance of constant, indispensable
mental power. That old dumb, central principle of
monarchies, about which Blackstone, De Lolme and
Montesquieu were so much troubled, the absolute
sovereignty, is here an active, thinking, vital essence,
like the atmosphere we breathe, embracing all, yet in
every man's bosom, and calling on each for the exer-
cise of his intellectual faculties. The countless offices
of our system, open equally to all, are so many spurs
to enterprize. How wide and minutely diffused is the
influence, — how constant, how potent ! All of us are
daily invoked to the discussion and decision of ques-
tions, in law, philosophy and economy, which demand
for their proper adjustment, all the learning of expe-
rience, and the profoundest operations of the mind.
126 ORATIONS.
Universal suffrage is, in its end, universal knowledge.
Democracy is the parent of literature. Verily, under
these aspects, we may ajoply, in an intellectual, as well
as political sense, to every American citizen, the bold
parallel which Wordsworth draws to the Highland
freebooter :
" The Eagle, he was king above,
And Rob Roy, he was king below !"
But, it has been said, that though our institutions
thus hold out excellent opportunities and stimulants
to intellectual exercise, they are yet prejudicial to
literature proper, because of their almost exclusively
j>olitical tendency. This is to some extent too true.
Veiy evidently the greater part of our talent has
hitherto been monopolized by politics. But that has
been owing chiefly to the infancy of our country. In
the outset of a government so peculiar as ours, so com-
plicated and popular, in which so many arrangements
without precedent had to be made, and so many appa-
rently conflicting principles adjusted, it was natural
that the talent of the country should be principally
directed to the affairs of State. The shining names in
our history, who had won distinction in our first j^oliti-
cal councils, became beacon-lights to guide the emulous
spirits of our youths into similar careers. Both these
influences have now begun to subside. Besides, nations
in their infancy, like individuals; are apt to mistake
the obvious and fascinating, for the useful and the true.
As both advance in life, they acquire deeper and wiser
lessons. So far, we have rushed headlong into politics,
as much from the noveltv of the attraction, as from
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 127
any other cause ; and the intellectual stature of men
has been measured more by the number of offices
they have held, than by their solid contributions to
the permanent thought of the country. This is a sad
error, and must die out. As we grow older, we will
learn that literature is a far nobler pursuit than " the
vain, low strife, that makes men mad ;" and that the
philosophers, historians, poets and scholars, the preach-
ers and teachers, are the great men of the time. Poli-
tics itself can never be a science, never more than a
barbarian scramble for office, unless it is purified and
rounded into form by the spirit of literature. Already
have other nations learned the necessity of making
their statesmen out of their scholars. At this mo-
ment the illustrious Humboldt is prime-minister of
Prussia, and in France, we see Thiers, Gruizot, La
Martine and Arago, all distinguished as authors, oc-
cupying the most prominent political positions.
This spirit, at no distant day, must obtain in our
country. It is not our form of government or its ten-
dencies, that are inimical to literature. It is the pub-
lic taste that is depraved, the public mind that is in
error. Let these be rectified, as they are fast being,
under the progress of intelligence — before the out-
pourings from institutions such as this all over our
country — and literature may have a Lazarus-like re-
surrection in these occidental forests. Even now, if
common justice were done to the authors of our coun-
tiy, in protecting them from the piratical and nefa-
rious system of plunder from foreign authors ; if, guided
by the plainest principles of justice, Congress would
128 ORATIONS.
allow the foreign writer, a copy-right to secure to him
the labors of his own intellect, to which he is as honestly
entitled as the people of Alabama are to their cattle
which may stray across the line into your Georgia ; if
we would protect ourselves from this "blue and yellow
literature/' the scum of the French and British press,
which is contaminating our morals, and depraving our
minds ; if, in short we would be actuated by elevated
sentiments of patriotism, justice, morality and love of
letters, to the adoption of an international copy-right
law, — we should have the heralding of as pure and
noble a literature as ever dawned upon the eyes of
Pericles or Tacitus, Ariosto or Addison. But ah !
the present Serbonian system is worse, far worse, in its
morals and moral effects, than Mississippi repudiation !
4. Let us glance now at another aspect of Ameri-
canism from which we may hope something for litera-
ture. Our general government is constructed upon the
principle of having as little to do as possible with the
internal, domestic affairs of society. By its enumera-
ted powers, its rightful province and jurisdiction are
mainly external. Consequently, after the general,
and, as they may be called, incidental influences, I
have enumerated, and the fact that it guaranties to
each state a republican form of government, it has but
one specified provision by which it can encourage lite-
rature ; that is the power " to promote the progress
of science and the useful arts, by securing, for limited
times, to authors and inventors, the exclusive right to
their respective writings and discoveries." Beyond
this, the entire control and jurisdiction of all the vast
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 129
territories of intellect, — the flowering Palestines of
mind, — are left exclusively to the separate populations
of the several republics composing the confederacy.
Each State is the legitimate and only guardian of all
the great interests of knowledge within her borders.
Unlike the general government, she can do everything
for the promotion of letters not prohibited by her con-
stitution ; while the former can do nothing, for which
it has not an express grant of power. This leaves the
destinies of education, of literature, science, and the
arts, in safer and more potential hands, than if they
were confided exclusively to national control. In my
estimation, our system of confederated sovereignties,
one of the most marked features of Americanism, is
peculiarly favorable to the production of a pure, earn-
est, life-bestowing, beauty-breathing literature. Let
us elaborate a little the reasons for this belief.
It was the benevolent desire of Henry the IV., to
which he was prompted by the philosoj3hic mind of his
minister, Sully, to see all the kingdoms of the earth
united in peace under one harmonious government.
This generous vision, if feasible at all, could only be
realized under some system similar to ours. Our con-
federacy is susceptible of indefinite extension. The
addition of new States tends but more firmly to confine
the Union to its legitimate functions, and to diffuse
wider, and wider, the blessings of democracy, peace,
and security. Under no other organism, could these
fundamental requisites of literature, be so extensively
attained. A vast consolidated government could but
ill provide for the comfort and welfare of its remote
130 ORATIONS.
parts. It could not meet the domestic wants and in-
tellectual demands of its diversified sections, nor pro-
portion its encouragements to the peculiar characteris-
tics of the people and the place. What general sys-
tem even of common-school education, would extend
equally to all parts of this vast and motley Union ?
The sun himself shines with a varying sjflendor upon
the sands of Nantucket and the corn-fields of Alabama.
In no vast, unbroken empire, has literature ever flour-
ished. The gigantic despotisms of Asia are great
Zaharas in the intellectual world. But one star illu-
minates the darkness of that long, wide, Chinese
night, — the star of Confucius. Russia, with her teem-
ing millions, has never struck the harp of Apollo, nor
caught the glintings of the silver shield of Minerva.
There they stand, in blank, grey stupendousness, like
the sjminx upon the sands of Egypt, giving no answer to
the questionings of intellect ! So evermore with these
giant consolidations. Government must come down,
and shape itself to the varying conditions of men. As
with us, it must have its wheels within its wheels,
each one, as in the vision of the prophet, vital with a
distinct interest, yet moving out sympathetically to
the whole. This then becomes disembarrassed of those
minute details, and innumerrble complex duties, which
exist in every social system, and which have to be ob-
served and nourished before a literature can be created.
But this federated system prevents another detrimen-
tal influence of consolidated governments. Wherever
there is a great central capital, the whole intel-
lectual wealth of the country, whether invested in
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 131
.literature or politics, becomes accumulated in it. It
forms a conspicious reservoir, to which all the foun-
tains have to flow, before they can be distributed
through the land. Imperious laws are there given to
the world of letters, and all other competition is
frowned down and destroyed before the fashions of the
metropolis. We see this illustrated in France and
England. Before genius can find an audible utter-
ance, it has to travel up to London or Paris : even
such men as Johnson and Voltaire were not exempt
from the necessity. They had to prune and warp
their intellects to the whims of the book-pedlars and
play-mongers in Grub-street, or the Rue de la Paix.
So evermore : Every thing provincial is denounced
and rejected. The best book, issued in Leeds or Man-
chester, in Bourdeaux or Marseilles, is consigned at
once to oblivion, before the literary dictatorship of the
metropolis. No good thing can come out of Nazareth ;
there is no divinity among Gallilean peasants. The
result of all this is most pernicious. Poor genius is
compelled to languish in obscurity in the provinces ;
the God dies in the manger ; and the entire literature
of the country, instead of being the large, fresh, oak-
like growth of the heart of the whole people, becomes
the dwarfed and noxious vegetation of a hot-bed of
vice and effeminacy.
These evil influences can never exist with us. Our
institutions disseminate their influence through every
portion of the Union. Each State has its own capi-
tal, whence proceeds the legislation which is to de-
^elope and form the mind of its inhabitants. True, as
132 ORATIONS.
yet, these several centres are weak and uninfluential ;
but, as the States swell in power, wealth, importance ;
as they begin to feel, each for itself, as every com-
munity sooner or later must feel, the necessity for a
home literature ; then the advantages of our distribu-
tive system will be happily discovered. At the least,
we shall always have a number of large cities in this
Union, at remote points, with equal centrifugal forces ;
thus preserving our literature from being concentred in
one metropolis, while the rest of the country is left in
comparative darkness, and the bright servitress becomes,
as she too frequently has been forced to be, a vile
pander to the bad passions of the enemies of free
institutions.
The rivalry and emulation which must always exist
among the several States of the confederacy, will be
highly favorable to literature. Each State will be un-
willing to be surpassed by a sister in the promotion of
letters. This feeling has already given rise to the
many institutions for high learning which exist in our
country. Even now we have well-nigh a hundred
universities or colleges, a larger number than any other
country upon the globe. These are the nurseries of
that genius and talent, which must blossom into
beauty, — into literature. The young men of each
section will not consent to fall behind those of any other
in those elevated achievements, which, while they shed
a morning-light of gracefulness over the institutions of
their country, will make their own names as musical
upon the lips of history as those of Cicero or Milton, of
Thucydides or Shelley. Every ono will strive to be
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 133
faithful to the highest interest, the honor and dignity,
the faith and lineaments, of his nourishing parent,
The intellectual manifestations of each section will thus
partake of the peculiarities of the State in which they
may arise, its moral and physical phases, and thus our
national literature, while, in its parts, it is stimulated
by a generous rivalry, will imbibe an originality and
freshness thereby, that will make it not unlike our
national government, receiving its vigor and permanence
from the individual prosperity of its component sover-
eignties.
The lessons of history, that experimental philoso-
pher, might be quoted in behalf of the position that
belles-lettres have ever flourished, to the greatest
advantage, under an associated system of small, in-
dependent States. But the illustrations are familiar,
and I shall pass on, content with only pointing you to
the contrast between the intellectual conditions of
Greece and Italy, during the existence of their repub-
lics, and when these were extinguished in the broad
expanse of consolidated dominion ; as also to the
history of the Swiss Cantons, the Hanseatic Towns,
the Baltic Circle, and the present condition of the
States of Germany. Though none of them can be com-
pared, in excellence of political arrangement, with our
country, yet it is certainly a significant fact that, in
proportion as they have approximated to the system
of confederated sovereignties, literature, science and
art have nourished in their borders. Well, then, might
Sismondi, in his glowing picture of the Italian repub-
lics, a book every American should read, regret, with
134 ORATIONS.
a deep pathos, the extinguishment of their separate
existence, as the stoppage-up of so many well-heads of
moral and social refinement.
We have now taken a general view of some of the
principal features of Americanism, as I call it, — its
governmental, social and physical aspects, — in reference
to their influence upon the developement of literature.
These, it must be admitted, are highly auspicious for
the future, even if, as is too true, they have accom-
plished but little as yet. They must work out our
intellectual redemption in the long to-come, and give
us a republic of letters, as vigorous, symmetrical,
lovely and expansive, as its kindred political system, —
as the broad theatre upon which our many millions are
to move. This new literature is to be something un-
like any thing of the past. It is not to be a re-pro-
duction of the worn-out articles of faith, philosophy,
poetry, or fable, of antiquity. No, God forbid ! I
would not reproduce here, if I could, that golden age
of Augustus, nor those diamond days of Elizabeth, of
which we have before sj>oken. No ! Americanism has
a destiny of its own to accomplish in literature. It
has to work out a system of thought, unlike any that
has gone before, mirroring truly the new phases of
humanity, of society, of government, that are here
coming forth. The literatures of all other nations are
entirely inadequate, unfit for Americanism. We niuU
have a literature congenial to our institutions, to our
position, to our great democratic faith. This we want
exceedingly now. We want a literature not unlike
that which Milton, and Marvell, and Sidney, and
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 135
Harrington, and Fletcher of Saltoun, foreshadowed
in the times of the Protectorate : a literature, sailing
like a ship across the ocean of time, freighted with the
noblest interests, the Manilla ransom of humanity, and
bearing onward ever, all sails set, before the steady
breezes of that old Millenial progress. Yes ! Ameri-
canism is to achieve inrportant modifications in the
spirit and faith of literature. What some of these will
be, it is not difficult to determine.
Is it not singular that, in the six thousand years
we have been upon the earth, so little has been estab-
lished in political philosophy ? Few truths touching
the rights or relations of man, the authority of rulers,
or the best forms and essential principles of govern-
ment, are of general reception even among the most
intelligent and cultivated minds. The details of
policy and practice are still more diverse and unset-
tled. Well-nigh every government has proceeded upon
some radically erroneous tenet. This has dislocated
and disordered the whole machinery. Ours is the
first that has squared its foundations according to the
immutable laws of human nature. Taking for its
polar-star, its watchword — " equality and justice to
all," it has been enabled, in its sj)irit and practice, to
comport with the requisitions of sound reason. Thus
our government will be able to present to the world,
not only the model of a system approaching perfection,
but more correct and elevated postulates and maxims
in political science, than have ever before been pro-
pounded. This we must do, in justice to ourselves
and our institutions. The very text-books used in our
136 ORATIONS.
schools and colleges, and by our law students, are
filled with iniquitous sophisms and falsehoods. All
other governments are bending their genius and learn-
ing against the faith and polity upon which we prac-
tice. It is ours to justify these in the eyes of the
world, from the insidious as well as 0£)en attacks of our
enemies, and to sow broad-cast the exalted principles
of democracy, until every people, within the blue
girdle of the sun, shall lift up their hands in joy upon
their hills, and shout aloud, in the ecstacv of regener-
ating freedom. Political philosophy is, as yet, scarce-
ly a recognized science ; but I firmly believe that it
is to be the destiny, as it certainly is the duty, of our
country, to give to the world, lessons of wisdom, in
both its branches, of ethics and economy, which will
do more for the diffusion of truth, and the elevation
of man, than any other influence since the writings of
Luther and Melancthon. The Declaration of Inde-
pendence was the first star of the morning, but it will
be followed, in the figurative language of Shelley, by
its " flocks of golden bees/' until the whole sky shall
be luminous with truth and beauty.
Another great achievement for American genius, is
to rectify the erroneous spirit of history. From the
times of Herodotus to Hallam, all history has been
written wrong. It has been, throughout, a specious
and cunning defence of the assumptions of the few,
against the rights of the many. Kings and courtiers,
knights and warriors, Grhengis Khans and Cceur de
Leons, — the tyrants and murderers of mankind, — have
been made to walk in stately procession, through its
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 137
dramatic scenery, while the mighty people, each one
more truly preserving the image of his maker, have
been treated as so many dumb beasts of burden.
Instead of being, as it was first called by Dionysius of
Halicarnassus, " philosophy teaching by example/' it
has been, example distorting philosophy. Well might
Sir Kobert Walpole, in his dying hours, exclaim,
" Read me not history ; I will believe any thing but
that." Verily, the world has always been imposed
upon by these lying Books of Chronicles ! Look for
instance, at the histories of the French Revolution.
What writer has ever faithfully portrayed the spirit
and incidents of that great struggle for the rights of
man ! All have attempted to excite our sympathies
for the stolid Bourbons, and the supercilious noblesse of
the old regime, and to stir our indignation against the
tumultous upheavings of long depressed hnmanity.
Even Scott prostituted his fine genius to the miserable
task of framing a distorted argument in defence of the
aristocratic principle ; and Archibald Allison has re-
cently strutted forth, in pompous tomes, to hurl his
anathemas upon every manifestation of democracy,
whether in France or America !
All this, I say, has to be rectified. The whole vol-
ume of history must be re-written in a different spirit,
with kindlier principles and a better faith. Our sym-
pathies should be stirred in behalf of the suffering
citizen, not the bloated despot : for the father toiling
in the long afternoon of those days, gone a hundred
years ago, to earn a scanty subsistence for his children,
and not for the pampered patrician, revelling in wealth
138 ORATIONS.
acquired only by governmental fraud and extortion.
This is the spirit of our institutions, and should be
the spirit of our literature. Written in this faith,
what a change would take place in the philosophy of
all history, and chiefly of that French Kevolution !
No longer should we have it depicted only as a savage
outbreak of the worst passions of depraved humanity,
but, what it was, in some sort, an honest, faithful, yet
terrible, bloody, and dreadfully perverted struggle of
an injured people to free themselves from the grinding
oppressions of a long-continued loathsome tyranny.
The heart-sickening excesses and horrors of the time
would be charged, in the main, to those who attempted
to resist and crush the popular spirit. Through the
whole fell, demon tragedy, we should see one benevo-
lent purpose at work, like the memories of his youth
in a bad man's heart, which would justify many acts
now regarded with odium and reproach. What a dif-
ferent estimate, too, would be placed upon some of the
most conspicuous actors in that bloody drama. Bobes-
pierre is commonly represented as a fiend incarnate.
This sentence, it has recently been contended, is, to a
great degree, unjust. Those who knew him well, say
that in the private and domestic virtues, in amiability
of character, and in strong religious feeling, he was
not the inferior of any of the co temporary leaders of
the Eevolution. While it is admitted that he was
driven, by the exigencies of the time, into many des-
perate expedients, over which humanity must ever
shudder ; yet it is contended that he was by no means
the author of the lon^ catalogue of crimes which were
AMEKICANISM IN LITERATURE. 139
laid at his door. How the truth may be I shall not
now pretend to determine ; but certainly we should
receive the popular versions with some critical hesita-
tion, when we reflect that the commentators upon
Kobespierre and the Revolution have, with scarcely an
exception, been monarchists or aristocrats. They have
delighted to heap all obloquy upon him and his party,
because they were the ultra-republicans of France,
and would hold no middle-ground short of unqualified
freedom. It is success that turns the rebel into the
hero ; and if those Jacobin clubs had succeeded in
their effort to establish the broadest democracy, the
name of Robespierre, instead of being cast out among
men, as a synonyme for all that is brutal and bloody,
might even, perhaps, have been recorded in history, by
these sycophantic dispensers of fame, as one of the
benefactors of the human family.
To do justice to this great Revolution, as well as in
all the other chapters of history, is a part of the mis-
sion of Americanism. It is a noble enterprise, and,
to my mind, presents a powerful inducement to the
cultivation, by us, of letters. Already has a native
author, of ample capacities, given us a glowing his-
torv of our own country, and of connected events
in Europe, conceived and executed in the right spirit,
with a genuine philosophy. Two others, inspire^
by the same high faith, have thrown the sunlight of
American genius, over kindred provinces of history,
and become honored apostles of the creed which I
would inculcate to-day. Already the names of Ban-
croft, Prescott, and Irving, are uttered by the genuine
140 ORATIONS.
lovers of the literature of humanity, with deeper re-
gard than those of Tacitus, Livy, Hume, or Gibbon.
When American genius shall, in a similar spirit, have
encircled the whole field of the past ; drawn out
from eras, governments and occurrences, their pro-
per lessons of instruction ; weighed, in an equal bal-
ance, emperors and peasants, conquerors and cap-
tives ; and tried all by that great test of merit, —
what have they done for human progress ? — then, and
not till then, can history assert any claim to the
attributes of philosophy. Oh ! ever be the past
brought to us in its truth, that it may guide us aright
in our wanderings through the future !
Other fields stand invitingly open, with similar
persuasives for culture by American minds. Poetry,
metaphysics, ethics, each and all, need accommoda-
tion to the faith and polity adopted here. In their
spirit, their essence, not in their form and embellish-
ment only, they are philosophic powers for the pro-
motion of the highest happiness. Hitherto they
have achieved little of their proper evangelism in
the world. They have stood, with the materialists
of the last century, upon the external accidents of
man, and reasoned inward to the soul ; rather should
they stand, like angels in the door of that temple, and
look out through its portals, upon the blue sky and
the green earth, the revolving wheels and the inclined
planes, the ethical positions and relations, that are
framed and energized by the out-running laws pro-
pounded in there. This spiritualism is the increasing
faith of the age ; and it alone is reconcilable with en-
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 141
lightened democracy. How it must manifest itself in
the more ideal part of our literature, I would gladly
linger to examine ; but we have tarried too long with
these imperfect speculations, and must pass to a con-
clusion.
Though I have insisted that Americanism, in all its
various phenomena, — in the magnificent and impe-
rial spread of our country, its diversified climates,
scenery, and productions — in the excellent character
of our* population, their rapid increase and extension,
their hardy habits, and unity of language, faith and
feeling — in the noble principles of our national consti-
tution, and in the excellent arrangement and operation
of our confederated system : — though in all this, I have
insisted that Americanism is highly auspicious to lite-
rature, and that in every department of thought, there
is imperious demand for the rectifying spirit ; — yet I
would not be misunderstood. I have little faith in
American literature, in its tendencies and achieve-
ments, thus far. We have shamefully neglected alike
our mission and its opportunities. A multitude of per-
nicious influences, chiefly coming from our social con-
dition, have checked and thwarted intellectual devel-
opment. Some of these I have incidentally mention-
ed ; the others need not now be enumerated. Suffice
it to say, one of the strongest impediments has been
the timid and time-serving spirit of the great body of
the scholars of our country. Entrusted with the care
and keeping of the ark of the intellectual covenant, they
have yet suffered it to be polluted by the hands of the
ignorant and vulgar, and have yielded themselves to
142 ORATIONS.
the blind infidelity, the anti-literary prejudice, of the
day. Shame, shame, to the faithless disciples of this
great religion of the mind ! They have sold them-
selves and their salvation for thirty pieces of silver ! —
It is to her scholars, — those whom her institutions
have nourished into intellectual manhood, that a
country has the best right to look for the preservation
of her highest interests, and they should be willing,
with Grallileo, to endure solitude, poverty, derision,
even martyrdom, in behalf of the " good old cause."
Yes : the speculations we have indulged in to-day,
look chiefly to the future. Come however slowly it
may, a literature must come beneath these occidental
sunsets. The influences enumerated, will work out an
intellectual reformation, as certain as the laws of vege-
tation, or the going round of the day-time. When
the low philosophy and material purposes, now domi-
nant, shall have perished, as they must, before the
steady progress of education ; when the hundreds of
scholars, who are annually poured out from our colle-
ges and universities, shall have swelled to thousands,
all faithful to the high interests committed to their
guardianship ; when our literary men shall appreciate
properly the true dignity and nobleness of their voca-
tion ; and when our country shall feel the old necessity
of employing in her councils, her philosophers and
scholars, instead of the brawling demagogue and vapid
dunce ; — we shall have the fulfilment of the vision
whose prophetic rays have touched our eyes to-day.
The period may be remote, but its advent is certain.
The cause of literature cannot be stopped. It is the
AMERICANISM IN LITERATURE. 143
cause of civilization, refinement, virtue, religion, human
progress ! Let us then abide in the faith that this
country of ours, as she is destined to present to the
world, the proudest spectacle of political greatness ever
beheld, will not be neglectful of the other, the highest
interest of humanity, its intellectual ascension ; but
that both shall flourish here, in unexampled splendor,
with reciprocal benefit, beneath the ample folds of that
banner, which shall then float out, in its blue beauty,
like a tropical night, brilliant with the stars of a whole
hemisphere !
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS :
AN ORATION
BEFORE THE
LITERARY SOCIETIES OF LA-GRANGE COLLEGE,
ALABAMA,
JUNE 16, 184 1.
ORATION.
Gentlemen :
In this age and country of ours, it requires a
bold spirit to assert, amid the din and bustle of or-
dinary life, — the stir of the market place, and the ex-
citement of the exchange, — the pure and elevated
claims of literature. The world, at least that portion
of it which lies about our doors, is essentially mechan-
ical The grinding of the mill and the rattle of the
railroad constitute the music which is most compla-
cent to the ears of men. Every other spirit is ab-
sorbed in a feverish struggle for gain. " Put money in
the pocket," — is the ruling precept of the day.
Nothing, the value of which you cannot calculate in
dollars and cents, is tolerated by society. The blot-
ting-book and the ledger, the shipping list and the
broker's bulletin, make up the popular literature of
the mass.
This spirit rules in every department of life. Even
the precincts once sacred to a better divinity have been
violated by its approch, and "the camp, the court, the
148 ORATIONS.
grove/' so sweetly devoted, by the Wizard of the
North, to the gentlest faith of man, have yielded to
its sullen dominion. It may truly be said to be the
dominant Spirit of the Age.
Every era has been denominated in history from the
ruling characteristics of the people. Thus, we have
the Golden Age of Augustus, and the Keign of Terror
of Robespierre. Our time has received many appella-
tions. By some, it has been called the Age of Me-
chanical Science ; by others, the Age of Utility. — By
none, even of its self-gratulators, or pseudo-perfection-
ists, has it been denominated the Age of Moral Re-
finement. Whatever appellation, the History Buil-
ders of after time may give us, unless a deep regard is
paid to the spirit I have mentioned, will be a gross
misnomer.
The manifestations, from which our era is to be
distinguished, unlike those of antiquity, are confined
to no one country. The world is not now, as it was
some six centuries ago, spotted all over, like a tesselated
pavement, by a thousand contrarieties of color ; by
every diversity of purpose and ambition. Everywhere,
from the land of Hong Foy and Houqua, the Tea
Merchants, to the home of Sir Mulberry Hawk or My
Lord Verisopht, from the quays of Liverpool to the
cabins on the Oregon, the passion for pelf, for money-
making, is the arch monopolist, — the insatiable
Neptune that eats up all other Gods.
But it is in our own country, that this creeping
autocrat has its firmest home. — We talk of the great-
ness of these American States ; of their power and
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 149
glory ; their commerce cresting every sea ; their agri-
cultural and mechanical wealth ; their iron muscles
on the 2and, and their great pulsating arteries ; their
emigrants pitching their tents by the brackish waters
of the far prairies, or felling forests through which the
buffalo and moose had roamed unscared since the
cradling of Time. All /this is true, and more. But
what is it all ? It cannot be denied that we have
done much for the conveniences of civilized man ; that
we have extended the arm of dominion over the ele-
ments ; made them draw on the turnpike and spin in
the manufactory. We have truly given man a right
to the title of the .Queller and Controller of physical
nature. Yet, what does all this, in its best phase,
imply ? Does it not all look one way, down one vista,
to one end, — the accumulation of property ? Have
not all our efforts been directed to the developement
of the physical energies of the country ; to the im-
provement of the national sinews, and not the nation-
al mind, to say nothing of the national heart ? And
has not the result, — boast of it as we may, — declaim
in heroics about it, as all may do, from the unbearded
sophomore to the Elisha-like senator, — been but com-
mensurate with the cause ? Loving my country with
all the fervor and enthusiasm of a heart by no means
cold ; loving her more for what she might and ought
to be, than for what she is ; I must yet confess, with
a lowering of pride, that I see, in her vaunted stupen-
dousness, more of physical, than of moral or intel-
lectual greatness !
If, from our country at large, we direct our minds,
150 ORATIONS.
under the same train of thought, to the section in
which we live ; this proud Southwest, the land of
the cotton plant and the magnolia, the palmetto and
the sugar cane ; how sad is the contemplation ! With
all her acknowledged superiority in climate, in soil, in
natural productions, in her mighty fretwork of naviga-
ble rivers, in the intrinsic character of her population ;
do we not find that she is thoroughly engrossed in the
paltry passion for pounds and pence, and that her
greatest proficiency is, to speak symbolically, in the
limited philosophy of the ploughshare and the jack-
plane, or the degraded cunning of the yard-stick and
the packing screw ? You must pardon me it' this
language is too plain ; for I have a duty to do, and in
sincerity it shall be done.
Any one, who will cast an observant eye upon the
pursuits of our people, will find how deeply this spirit
of utilitarianism, as by courtesy of speech it is called, is
ingrained in the very constitution of our society. All
our occupations — professions and trades alike, — have
in view only one end. The great study of the farmer,
the lawyer, the physician, the merchant, the mechanic,
is how to double his profits. Even those in high
places, — the legislators of the land, — would not "patri-
otically serve the public" a day, if you withdrew their
per diem allowance. This inordinate passion is like
the lean kine of the dreaming monarch ; swallowing
up every better purpose. It gives its hue and impress
to every phase and feature of life. The parent, in the
education of his child, must have him taught only
those things, which will be of practical value ! Educa-
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 151
tion itself is curbed and fashioned by the influence.
After delving in a miserable way, for a few years, over
the primary branches of instruction, the hopeful youth,
now that he is bearded and built like his father,
assumes the full stature of an educated man ; with
just knowledge enough, neglected as it is ever after, to
addle his brain, and engender a spirit of ignorant
vanity, — self-chuckling and deaf, — which besets and
debases his whole moral nature. The limits, which
the law sets up between the man and the minor, being
passed, or the Baccalaureal Letters Patent obtained,
whoever heard of the student continuing his studies in
our country ? He at once launches out into all the
petty plans and speculations of " the good old way, in
which his fathers went/' He loses all remembrance of
the Pierian fountain, if ever he had knelt at its moss-
covered curb-stone ; and remembers the beautiful days
of his youth, only as so much time squandered in idle
pursuits, under tyrannical taskmasters. This is the
character of the greater portion of our youth ; and
verily, it may be said, few of them are likely to die of
that disease which Festus thought had affected Paul.
The noble race of the olden scholars has never existed
in our land. We know nothing of that generous order
of intellectual Palestrge, who, from youth to manhood,
from manhood to age, with an enthusiasm as deep as
woman's love, drank of the golden waters of philosophy
in the sacred grove of Academe, or, in a later age, bent,
with a fever at the heart, and a hectic flush upon the
pallid cheek, over dingy scrolls, in the midnight quiet
of a German University.
152 ORATIONS.
All tlie sentiments and habits of our people are at
war with such a life. They regard purely intellectual
pursuits in a man, as mere idle revery. They only
" Bend the pregnant hinges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fawning" —
and, not comprehending, they despise the habits of
that man, who gives his days and nights to Letters.
Indeed, the opposition goes so far, that the man who is
at all literary is deemed unfit for any practical part in
life. No matter how great may be his intellect ; no
matter though he could thread and untangle, almost
with the ease of intuition, the thousand little intrica-
cies, over which they blunder and fumble with painful
perseverance ; he is yet elbowed aside in the press of
life, to make room for men as far his inferiors, as the
shrivelled shrub of a summer's garden is to the tempest-
stemming pine. /'It is the fate of genius to be suspected
if not despised ; and nothing is more common in all
our village streets than to hear the sneering prophecies
of the dunce and dotard — those human moles who ridge
the footpath, — that such a one will never be of any ac-
count in life ; for he is a literary man ! This is not
the case in our country alone. " Beggary and genius
have become proverbial synonymes with the vulgar of
almost every nation ; and nothing is so distressing to
the green-grocer or the butter-merchant, as the dreadful
apprehension that his favorite son Jacky may yet turn
out to be a Genius."*
* W. G. Simms, — in the Magnolia.
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 153
Such being the spirit of the community in which we
live, it may be well said that it requires a bold spirit
to advocate, within our borders, the cause of literature.
Degrading to the land as the imputation is, it is never-
theless true. The man, who comes out, upon any
occasion, from the engrossing avocations of the day, to
lift a voice in behalf of the better impulses of humanity ;
who ventures, amid the frog-like croaking of the great
marsh of society, above the buzz of the cotton-gin, the
rattle of the bacon- waggon, and all the sounds of the
workshop, the hammer and the yard-stick, — those
Merlin sceptres of modern life, — to raise the low, sweet
music of philosophy, is encountering a species of
voluntary martyrdom ; is exposing himself to an ex-
perimenttcm cmtcis, as stem as ever brutalized the
streets of Avignon or Seville.
And yet this spirit must be encountered. Every
man, who loves his country, who loves his common
nature, should do something to eradicate this curse ;
worse than the curse of Adam, if not the full develope-
ment of that curse itself : should use all his powers to
remove this foul incubus which sits upon society, like
the old man upon the shoulders of Sinbad, stifling
every generous impulse, every noble effort, and forcing
poor man, proud man still, to plod through the ruts
and ravines of life, as little conscious of the God within
him, as the rude hut of the patriarch was of the angel
it sheltered.
As the potency of this spirit of utilitarianism is
perhaps greater in our portion of the Union than any
other ; as it here darkens and destroys many of the
154 ORATIONS.
better, if not the best, capabilities of humanity ; it
here needs the most powerful resistance, — it is here
that the strongest effort for a nobler philosophy should
be made. What subject is worthier of our thinking
men ; of our patriots ; of our philanthropists ? There
can be none ; for it includes in its purview, man's
whole social, moral and intellectual destiny.
To you, Gentlemen, — a Brotherhood of Scholars, —
the sunny waters of whose youthful affections are yet
undarkened by the shadows of a colder creed, — this
contemplation is particularly appropriate. You are
shortly, from these ambrosial arcades, to step into the
world, to participate in its practices and purposes, to
move in its dusty whirl ; and I speak but the voice of
many a man's experience, when I tell you that, if you
yield implicitly to its requirements, if you do not, like
a strong swimmer, stem a torrent's progress, it will be
in vain that you have outworn long years of scholastic
toil; that you have bowed with a deep reverence over the
curious diagram ; that you have garnered instruction
from " T ully's voice, and Virgil's lay, and Livy's
pictured page !" Worse, worse than wasted, will have
been your time. You will individually become one of
a poor, pitiful, plodding race, — I speak in no unkind
spirit, for I love every creature that partakes of the
inheritance of our first Father, — who go through life
in such a way as seemingly to sanction the bitter sneer
of the caustic satirist, that the whole purpose of
man is
" To draw nutrition, propagate and rot !"
Oh, let me, my friends, beseech you to resist this
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 155
Oircean influence ! Let me, upon this occasion which
you have so generously furnished me, file a plea in be-
half of a better faith. Let me, in short, point out the
evils of this gross system of materialism, of Jack-
Cadeism,* as it should be called; its blightiug opera-
tion upon the noblest interests of our country ; as well
as attempt to exhibit the best means of modifying, if
not eradicating, its influence. Those means, I shall
endeavor to show, reside in a proper culture of the
Imaginative Faculty, and in a generous encouragement
of its visible manifestations, — the Fine Arts : to
whose moralizing influence, I hold, we are to look for
all our better hopes of intellectual or social excellence.
This is one of the great truths of history. And when
men forget the existence of any important truth, or
suffer it to die out among them, they are forced, by a
thousand resulting ills, to weep heavily over its tomb
The pernicious influence of the utiltarian doctrines
may be more forcibly illustrated by a reference to the
moral condition of our section of the confederacy.
There has been little variance among writers in de-
scribing the characteristics of our population. The
whole corporation of European tourists, — from De
Tocqueville, down, down, down to Captain Marryatt,
* "Cade. — Let me alone : — Dost thou use to write thy name 1 or hast
thou a mark to thyself, like an honest plain-dealing man?
Clerk. — Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought up, that I
can write my name.
All. — He hath confessed — away with him — he's a villian and a
traitor.
Cade. — Away with him, I say; hang him with his pen and ink-horn
about his neck." — Second Part of King Henry VI. — Act 4, Scene 2.
156 ORATIONS.
— that Peter Simple on shore, — disagreeing in many
things, have all concurred in their portraitures of us.
We are every where represented to be lawless, violent,
irritable, haughty, vain, unsocial, quick of entrance in
a quarrel, reckless of life, heedless of the obligations
of religion. A few of the ruder virtues are allowed
us ; but they are such only as appertain to a semi-
barbarous state. The picture is undoubtedly over-
colored ; but many of its features may be found.
Where did you ever hear of a country in which there
were fewer of the incentives to the higher virtues ?
A man must be honest, brave, industrious ; for these
qualities are necessary in his trade or profession. He
can't be trusted unless he is. But where are the
motives to generosity, to benevolence, to charity, to
courtesy, — " the old unbought grace of life/' — to a
refined and filial patriotism ? These certainly form
no integral part of our social economy. They are all
engulfed in the tide and temper of traffic. That
spirit, whose approaches Edmund Burke so loftily
lamented, is upon us. All our philosophers teach us
to regard only those things which shall increase our
store. This is our great motive principle. Under its
influence the gentler virtues die. Eeligion herself —
the beautiful embodiment of all the better rules of
morals, with an infusion of never-paling divinity ; the
sweet moni tress that teaches us how much of heaven a
good man may incarnate in himself, — is set aside or
adopted as convenience dictates, and her elevating
precepts fall upon the hearts of men, only like cold and
scattered stars through the gloom of a northern heaven !
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 157
The savans of our land have attempted to correct
these evils by legislation. That is beginning at the
wrong stage of the disease. They train up a child in
the way he should not go ; and then they punish him
for following the bent of his education. You may
pile law upon law ; adopt penal codes, as systematic
as the Pandects of Justinian, or as tyrannical as the
tablets of Draco ; and yet you will produce little
moral reformation. You must mind the seeds of the
evil. The parable of the Tares is no unmoralized
fable. A people, to become refined, must have some
motive else than to grow rich. They must have some
other catechism than Poor Richard's Almanac.
We are usually told by flippant sciolists, that the
way to correct these evils is by education. I shall not
refute the assertion ; I shall not so sin against science.
But if we are to understand by " education/' that spe-
cies of teaching commonly given to the mass of our
youth, honesty must own that it is entirely inade-
quate to such an end. At best, it is but a brief cul-
tivation of the grosser faculties of the mind. To
moral culture it has no relations. The feelings of the
heart, the finer fancies of the intellect, are all left
dormant, to perish in their sockets. There might be
a nation of men highly educated upon the utilitarian
plan, who would all be villains. Frankenstein's hero
was composed of parts, each one perfect in itself, and
yet their combination produced a demon. There was
wanting a pervading spirit, a genial sympathy, blending
the discordant members into one harmonious whole.
So with a nation. Unless its constituent portions are
158 ORATIONS.
united by something more than a mere insulated excel-
lence ; unless there is a refined fitness for each other ;
a going-out of each in love and generosity through the
whole ; in short, unless its virtues as well as its intel-
lect be cultivated ; it will be but a chaotic mass of in-
coherent materials :
" Like sweet bells jangled, harsh and out of tune !"
This is the great secret of civilization : and it is
against this principle that Jeremy Bentham and his
implicit disciples have most deeply sinned. Their doc-
trine not only blights the social virtues, by failing to
cultivate their sources, but it would quench every exal-
ted Literature. Adopt the maxim, that we are to
pursue only those things which are of immediate practi-
cal value ; whose utility can be computed by arithme-
tic ; and you would extinguish the main glories of the
world. Where would go the storied splendors of anti-
quity ? They who carved, and they who dug ; the
cyclops in his smithy, and the tanner at his vat ; the
utilitarians of Borne ; have perished entirely, leaving
no epitaph to after times ; and yet the names of Cicero,
and Virgil, and Juvenal, and Terence — of the unpro-
ductive classes — still travel with the stars ; moulding
opinion through all the Subsequent. These, the sage
of Queen-Square Place would, with one of his solemn
sneers, extinguish forever.
The evil does not stop here. Its barbarous extent
would obliterate every nation's proudest inheritance ;
the fame of her scholars and literary men. Erase from
the tablets of England's history, the names of Bacon,
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 159
Milton, Shakespeare, Spenser, and Byron only, and
how much of her glory would you extinguish forever !
What would be the barren heath and winding lochs
beyond the Tweed, without the moonlight halo that
emanates from the pages of Burns and Scott ? — Eclipse
the fame of Dante, Petrarch, Tasso, Alfieri, and Boc-
cacce, and how the sky of Italy would be darkened !
Deprive Portugal of her Camoens ; Spain of her Lope
de Vega, her C alder on, and Cervantes ; and what a
pall of gloom would cover the Peninsula ! What
would France be without Corneille, Racine, Rabelais,
Montaigne, Voltaire and De Stael ; or Germany with-
out Goethe, Schiller, Martin Luther, Herder, Lessing
and Erasmus ?
These illustrations show the absurdity of the doc-
trine, as well as its pernicious influence upon Letters.
In our own countiy, it has had a repressing influence ;
has kept down everything like literary elevation.
There have been occasional efforts to develope our na-
tive genius. " Prithee Poins \" did you not speak of
such a thing as Southern Literature ? Like the sound-
ing of a bell in a vast wilderness, we have heard the
faint chimes of a scattered few, who would awaken us
to an elevated devotion. They have been the neglec-
ted prophets and apostles of an impracticable creed.
The Jack-Cadeism of the day has quenched their vestal
fires. " Hang him with his pen and ink-horn about
his neck," has been the constant verdict of our back-
woods' juries. Southern Literature indeed ! Lucus
a non lucendo ! Throughout this broad, green, beau-
tiful land of ours, as it is sometime rapturously called ;
160 ORATIONS.
from Mason and Dixon's, to Hunt and Carroll's line ;
there is not one native author ; exclusively an author !
Yes, there is one : one of whom we may be justly
proud. Solitary and alone, in this barren Patmos, he
has been struggling for years, to develope and illustrate
an indigenous literature. And well, though perhaps
unrewarded, — certainly unrewarded by those for whom
be has done the most, — has he accomplished his exal-
ted mission. His numerous j>roductions have arisen
like a line of beautiful hills around the literary hori-
son of his country. Could my voice reach him in his
far home, amid the palmetto groves of Carolina, I
would bid him — God speed ! in his proud vocation. I
would tell him that he is a worthy herald of the noblest
fai lh save one, — a sister spirit — that has ever brightened
our common nature. Though his immediate coun-
trymen may not appreciate his efforts ; though, like
Dante, he may struggle in darkness ; I would tell him
to remember Dante's prophecy ; remember its fulfill-
ment ! The time will come when the brow of the
author of " Atalantis" and the " Yemassee," of " Melli-
champe" and the "History of South Carolina" shall be
crowned with the green garlands of unforgetting love !
It is in the history of our Periodical Literature that
the influence of this iconoclastic spirit is most manifest.
Many efforts have been made to establish among us
the higher class of periodicals. They have all been
ineffectual. The truth has been fully proven that our
people do not want, — that they are positively unfit for,
such intellectual establishments. How sad is the his-
tory of the Southern Review ! For profound learn-
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 161
ing, elegant scholarship, lofty and generous criticism
modelled upon the purest standards of taste and phil-
osophy ; it was but little, if at all, inferior to the
great Coryphaeus, the Edinburgh itself. Its pages
were regularly adorned by the most finished produc-
tions of such minds as Legare, Cooper, Grimke, Elliott,
Harper, Drayton, Hayne, Nott, and England. Fear-
lessly, eloquently, it defended our peculiar social econ-
omy, and better constitutional creed ; wreathing at the
same time, the graces of literature, like the myrtle of
Harmodius, around the ruder implements of attack and
defence. And yet, — though many of its articles were
regularly translated into other languages, and read
with rapture by the illuminati of the Continent, — it
was permitted, by our all-patriotic population, to die
by that most painful of all the processes of decomposi-
tion — starvation. Ah ! how far below zero, our intel-
lectual thermometer sank, the day those funeral obse-
quies were performed !
That such has been the result of all our attempts
at literature is not strange. Our scholars, like our
legislators, have begun in the wrong way. The minds,
the feelings of the people must first be accommodated
by a proper culture, before they will yield to the dy-
nasty of either. That culture, we repeat, does not
consist in the development of the grosser faculties of
the mind alone. There are other and higher attrib-
utes of the intellect. Man is not a mere Babbage's
Calculating Machine. He has sentiments, feelings,
emotions ; a love of the beautiful, the true, the sub-
lime ; a yearning for immortality, an impulse to the
162 ORATIONS.
perfect. These, — the divine part of his nature ; the
attributes of the unperishing essence, his soul, — the
German metaphysicians have denominated The Ideal.
Our writers, pursuing a less exact phraseology, have
classed them as constituents or objects of a more fa-
miliar term, the Imagination. Either phrase, if rightly
understood, will answer our purpose ; and it is in the
cultivation of this faculty, in its most extended sense,
that we shall insist, reside the only remedy for the
evils of which we have spoken ; the only antagonist
principle to the horrors of utilitarianism ; the only
hope of social regeneration. For, — to use the thought
of Frederick Von Schlegel, in his admirable " Philoso-
phy of History,"* — "there can be no comprehensive
culture of the human mind, — no high and harmonious
development of its powers, and the various faculties
of the soul ; unless all those deep feelings of life, —
that mighty productive energy of human nature, the
marvelous imagination, be awakened and excited, and
by that excitement and exertion, attain an expansive,
noble and beautiful form. Were the mental culture
of any people founded solely on a dead, cold, abstract
science, to the exclusion of all poetry, in action or
thought; such a mere mathematical people, with
minds thus sharpened and pointed by mathematical
discipline, would never possess a rich and various in-
tellectual existence ; nor even probably attain to a
living science, or a true science of life."
Under the influence of the popular philosophy, men
* Vol. 1, p. 805.
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 163
have come to greatly rais-appreciate, if not wholly to
misunderstand, the character and functions of the
imagination. It is regarded, at its best, but as a gen-
erous weakness of the mind ; an intoxicating mental
champagne, generating vapors and phantasms in the
brain, fit only for the amusement of children, or the
idle gratulation of some love-sick girl. How false is
the notion ! What injustice is done to the great mo-
tive principle of all moral or intellectual excellence !
The human mind may be briefly divided into two
grand departments : the Actual and the Ideal. The
first regards things, — the plainer things of life, — only
as they have been or are. Its speculations extend
thus far, and no farther. The last prompts to every
new and high enterprize ; to every improvement or
discovery in art, science or feeling ; to every reforma-
tion or regeneration ; to every thing " not of the earth,
earthy ;" to every revelation of the hidden or future ;
to every effort or aspiration for the true, the beautiful,
the immortal ! This is the imagination, and these
are its offices. It urged "the world's grey fathers" to
all their efforts for civilization and refinement. It led
them up to the summits of their rugged mountains,
and pointed them to the far-smiling Palestines, beck-
oning to perfection. It prompted the bare-footed
Egyptian to the invention of symbols for thought, and
taught the Asiatic sheep-tender " to unwind the eter-
nal dances of the sky." Socrates, when he mused at
the Bonquet of Plato ; G-allileo, before and after he
recanted at the Inquisition ; Columbus, as he floated
in his polacre, in the bay of Genoa, dreaming of a
164 ORATIONS.
means of realising the fiery Macedonian's last ambi-
tion ; all felt its divine impulse. Leibnitz tells us
that all his philosophy resulted from his Ideality ; and
the apple-watching Newton caught the secret of his
greatness from his imagination. It is, in short, an
attribute without which perception is dull, memory
weak, and judgment inactive.
But we do not propose a dissertation upon all the
offices of this faculty. Addison, in his finished prose,
and his imitator Akenside, in his finely modulated
verse, have adequately painted its pleasures. Oar
purpose is to show that its development, and culture
should be more attended to in every system of educa-
tion ; that this is peculiarly essential under our frame
of government, — this " fierce democracie ;" — and that
no people ever reached a refined social position with-
out a cultivation of the faculty itself, and particularly
of its external manifestations : the Fine Arts.
It is in these manifestations, that this imperial fac-
ulty, which dwells in the recesses of the bosom, like a
hermit in a cave, has accomplished its triumphs.
The Fine Arts have, in all ages, been the main civil-
izers and refiners of man. Before letters were in-
vented, Poetry trembled from the lips of the wander-
ing bard, sanctifying the rude heart of the attracted
barbarian : Music, as in the metaphoric story of Or-
pheus, calmed the bestial passions and roused the
timid virtues into play : Painting caught the fleeting
vision, and hung her miracles irpon the walls which
Architecture and Sculpture had adorned. These, —
the arts, which that beautiful poetry of religion, the
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 165
early Greek mythology, embodied in the forms of the
Muses, as a part of its faith, — the unphilosophical
have usually regarded as the effect, and no part of the
cause, of civilized refinement. I have looked at the
chronicles of the past, with an erring eye, if this be so.
True, we usually find the Arts in their most palmy
prosperity in periods of the greatest social splendor.
But they had originated long before. They were but
glowing in the sunshine of that day whose meridian,
— whose long unstooping, Joshua-like meridian, — they
had accelerated.
Every era of great excellence will be found to have
been preceded by the enlarged development of one or
more of the Fine Arts. Homer, whoever he was, —
" whether/' as Dr. Parr says, " he was Homer or some-
body else," — flourished long before the sabbath of Gre-
cian glory. He sang his martial stanzas in a rude and
unlettered country. They, who heard his metrical
chant, at first paused from curiosity to listen to the
ravings of the blind old Sciote. The boys hoot : the
maidens titter : the utilitarians of that day, the
bullock-driver and the pulse-gatherer, — where are they
now ? — sneer. But he strikes up a bolder and a wilder
strain. He tells of Hector's bravery, of Helen's beauty,
of Priam's woes. — Their hearts become entangled in
the song. Now a strain of fervid patriotism ; now a
gush of genial sympathy, of generous pity, of expanded
benevolence ; now a burst of fiery indignation at
unholy wrong, at sacrilege, at fraud, at cowardice, at
tyranny, — roll upon the mild air of that iEgean even-
ing. Like Roderick Dhu before the highland harper,
166 ORATIONS.
their hearts have sympathized in every note of the
blind, old poet. Think you that they did not lie down
that night in their wretched hovels, better and braver
and more generous and patriotic than they had been ?
Models of excellence, — ideal it is true but not unat-
tainable, — were swimming in their hearts, were pic-
tured before their imaginations, which in long days
after, when old Melesigines had passed away, had a
moulding and glorious influence, had their full revel-
ation in the age of Pericles !
This is undoubtedly, when taken in connection with
the sister arts, — the paintings of Zeuxis, the sculp-
tures of Phidias, and the friezes of Apollodorus, — the
philosophy of Grecian history.
Other eras exemplify the same truth. It is some-
what singular that the greatest poet of modern times
arose in the darkest hour of the world. And what an
upward impulse did he give to man ! In that long
night of ages, — the ten centuries of degradation, —
when humanity "had lost all her original brightness,"
what hope was there for the world ? The gorgeous
crests of Roman and Grecian glory had, like the hosts
of Pharaoh, been whelmed completely from the sight •:
and no Miriam struck her harp of triumph and prom-
ise above the cold, Lethean waters. From the holder
of the keys of St. Peter to the beggar in the lazaretto,
all was squalid ignorance, sensuality and crime. At
this dejected moment, a faint sound, like a ringing
cymbal, is heard in the West. Nearer it comes, until
it swells into a hymn of indignation and triumph ! It
speaks of hope and redemption to man. It lashes vice
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 167
in her high places. Tyranny and bigotry tremble at
the omen. The clouds break away ] and a faint dawn
for humanity is seen in the east. Need it be said
that that song was the Divina Commedia ; that that
poet was Dante ?
This is the origin of the Kevival of Letters. The
poet gave an impulse to the painter, to the statutary,
to the architect. The Fine Arts began to revive ;
and, from the course they took, the Reformation — so
essential to clear away the last shadows of the ages of
delusion, — was brought about. There can be little
doubt, — though it has seldom been awarded him, —
that Dante did as much to reform the abuses of the
Romish church, as Martin Luther. He depicted, in a
language never equalled for music and persuasion, all
the long-accumulated evils of the Papal hierarchy.
With a boldness unsurpassed even by his own heroes,
he rent the veil of the unhallowed temple. Neither
the cap of the pontiff, nor the horned bonnet of the
bishop, was free from the sarcasm of his verse. With
a well-becoming joy, he dared to consign several of the
boasted Vice-regents of Jesus themselves, for their
unnatural crimes, their open infidelity, to the tortures
of his Inferno! Nor was it upon Eeligion alone, but
upon Liberty and Literature, that he had an awaken-
ing influence. " He was the congregator of those great
spirits that presided over the resurrection of learning ;
the Lucifer of that starry flock which, in the thirteenth
century, shone forth from republican Italy, as from a
heaven, into the darkness of the benighted world !"*
* Shelley's " Defence of Poetry," p. 51.
168 ORATIONS.
Nor are these triumphs confined to Poetry. The
other Arts have, in many instances, had as manifest
an influence for good. Who can doubt that much of
the mystic literature of Egypt ; much of the peculiar,
refined character of her people ; much of her social
and political economy, was derived from the influence
of her strange and gigantic architecture, her wild but
polished sculpture, and her finished painting ; so early
established and patronized by her kings ? The fabled
harp of Memnon was but an emblem of the exquisite
music, which the constellated arts daily infused, like
a gift of sunshine, into the hearts of the people.
The most notable instance, history furnishes, of so-
cial, j)olitical and intellectual superiority, is in the
Democracy of Athens. There never was an instance
of such thorough and diffused refinement. Destitute
of the beneficence of nature, she had made art supply
the deficiency. That statesman, who could make a
modern state equal to hers in every excellence, would
possess a cunning superior to Macchiavel or Metter-
nich. And yet, what seems to have been the secret of
her excellence ? Will it not, upon a philosophic view,
— not such a coup oVceil as that intense sensualist, Bul-
wer, has taken, — appear to have resulted from the en-
couragement given to the Imaginative Arts ? Mod-
ern commonwealths far transcend her in all the exact
sciences, in a control over the energies of nature.
They have, in the cant phrase of Brougham, the
schoolmaster abroad in the land : but is it not to be
feared that his teachings are more like those of Teddy
O'Rourke, the Irish tutor, — wild lessons of blundering
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 169
and folly — than the training and perfection of the
moral man ? Say what we will, the barren little pen-
insula, between monnt Cithaeron and caj:>e Sunium, —
with her violet crowned city, — far excelled any modern
state in her whole social and educational polity. Let
us, for the sake of illustration, transport ourselves in
fancy, like the Abbe Barthelemi, to her territory, in
the time of her power and glory.
We are entering the gates of Athens. Down the
broad street, that ojiens before us, a crowd is collected
around the portico of a temple. Let us approach. —
They are gazing with delight upon an architect who
is erecting the statue of a divinity. As the beautiful
form displays itself against the sky, they shout the
name of Praxitiles. We wander on by graceful tem-
ples and elegant dwellings, beneath whose colonnades,
priest, and poet, and philosopher, and artist, and ora-
tor, and rhapsodist are mingled in indiscriminate con-
versation. In a little while we enter a spacious grove.
How tastefully adorned ! Gray crowds are wandering
through its shady walks. Now they collect in the
centre ; and Plato arises to speak of the immortality
of the soul. Among the audience you see many who
are distinguished. That small, old man, with the
long beard, dressed much in the style of a Carmelite
friar of the present day, is Diogenes. Yonder meagre,
lank young man, with the red eyes, is Aristotle, the
Stagyrite. That pale, delicate, scholarly-looking youth,
who so continually shrugs his shoulders, like a French-
man, is Demosthenes. Others of no less reputation
are around. From the Academy, we proceed to the
170 ORATIONS.
Lyceum. What a profusion of matchless paintings
and sculptures deck its walls. Pericles is illustrating
the powers of eloquence, and propounding the laws.
Thence we seek the Theatre. First a tragedy of
iEschylus, and then a comedy of Aristophanes : each,
unlike our modern dramas, illustrating some important
moral truth. Now for the house of Aspasia. She
gives to-night, one of her ambrosial feasts. The col-
lection of philosophy and wit would make Madame
Kecamier, or the Countess of Blessington, die of envy.
Such is a day in Athens !* Such were all her days!
Can any modern university boast so excellent a system
of education ? What wonder that her citizens were
the most refined population on earth !
But we need not resort to these pictures of the past
to illustrate the esthetic influence of the arts. What
Athens was, Rome, from the same cause, in a later
day became. The rude passions of her populace were
humanized and refined by the presence of the Muses.
The habitual contemplation of the beautiful tends to
soften the asperities of the heart ; and make its stony
places gush with the waters of charity and love. This
is the Philosophy of the Imagination. Its beautiful
revelations, whether in verse or stone, upon parchment
or canvas, have ever been the most eloquent preach-
ers of morality. They are so from their nature. Di-
recting all their radiance to the heart, they awaken
its holiest sympathies. They rouse the passion for
* Macanlay, in one of his essays, has a similar scene.
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 171
the pure, for perfection. No man, with such gentle
ministrants of good, such graceful persuasives to re-
finement, could be content to live and die as though
he had no soul.
In a survey of the Fine Arts, it would not do, to
pass unnoticed the epoch of their greatest modern
perfection. As has been said, Dante was the prime
reviver of the Imaginative Arts. He was soon follow-
ed by many worthy disciples. Petrarch and Boccacce,
in the flowery wilderness of song ; Michael Angelo,
and Raphael, and a host of others, — whose footsteps
are yet beautiful upon the mountain tops of history, —
in painting, and sculpture, and architecture, — enriched
Italy with the proudest wonders of art ; and elevated
her to a lofty position in the university of nations.
This made her capitols " the cities of the soul," and
drew the pilgrims of every literature, of every art,
from Shelley to Thorwalsden, to drink at her immortal
fountains. We cannot linger over her teeming history.
It is one of the most brilliantly illuminated pages in
the chronicles of man. There the plastic arts exem-
plified their influence in the conversion of a barbarous
people into a refined, intellectual community ; and
left a lesson for all the succeeding. But to nations,
as that solemn plagiarist, Coleridge, has said of indi-
viduals, " experience is like the stern lights of a ship,
illuminating only the track over which they have
passed." Few modern statesmen have treasured the
instruction. Napoleon, who, if he had not been Eu-
rope's mightiest conqueror, would perhaps have been
her first philosopher, did not overlook the lesson.
172 ORATIONS.
When he had erected the architrave of his stupen-
dous power, he saw that one thing was wanting to
adorn, to endear, the edifice. Under the guidance of
Canova, he struck upon the right secret. He at-
tempted to fill the Louvre with the treasures of
Italy. — But alas ! the pedestals of his power were too
slippery with blood ; and he only left the collections
of his genius to brighten and beautify the reigns of the
stolid Bourbons. And what an influence must they
have had upon the mind, and, that most social of all
its manifestations, the manners, of the French people !
The most imaginative of English-essay writers,
William Hazlitt, has finely described the effect that
the reccollections of the Louvre had upon him.
"Wherever I was/' says he, "they were with me,
above me, and about me, and hung upon the beatings
of my heart, a vision and a joy unutterable. There
was one chamber of the brain, at least, which I had
only to unlock and be master of boundless wealth, —
a treasure-house of pure thoughts and cherished recol-
lections. Tyranny could not master, barbarism slunk
from it ; vice could not pollute ; folly could not gain-
say it. I had but to touch a certain si3ring, and lo !
on the walls, the divine grace of Guiclo appeared free
from blemish, — there were the golden hues of Titian,
and Raphael's speaking faces, the splendor of Rubens,
the gorgeous gloom of Rembrandt, the airy elegance of
Van Dyke, and Claude's classic scenes lapped the
senses in Elysium, and Poussin breathed the spirit of
antiquity over them. There, in that fine old lumber-
room of the imagination, were the Transfiguration,
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 173
and the St. Peter Martyr, with its majestic figures,
and its unrivalled landscape back-ground. There
were also the two St. Jeromes, — Domenichino's and
Correggio's, — there stood " the statue that enchants
the world/' — there were the Apollo, and the Antinous,
the Laocoon, the Dying Gladiator, Diana and her
Fawn, and all the glories of the antique world." *
What finer school for moral refinement or classical
instruction could exist, than the opened doors of the
Louvre ?
Among the Moderns, there is one nation at least
that has been philosophical in her social structure.
We usually regard the Germans as a dull and phlegm-
atic race ; yet, in the true science of life, they are
far our superiors. In domestic polity they have few
equals. Although, through a disregard of the maxims
of Malthus, they have an over-teeming population,
yet, unlike the Irish, they are not in a constant state
of fermentation ; the lowest dregs of society welling
up, and muddying the whole social system. Their
youth are early fashioned into virtue by the influence
of imaginative culture. Music and poetry are made
a part of their common school education. You cannot
travel through a town in Hesse Darmstadt or the Cir-
cle of Meissen, without hearing the pleased tinkling
of the laborer's guitar, as he pauses from his toil at the
evening twilight ; or the sweet song of the maiden, as
she blends the mild religious melodies of Klopstock or
Burger with the busy humming of her wheel. What
* " Tour through France and Italy." Chap. 4.
174 ORATIONS.
a transcendant social fabric ! What wonder that they
have the richest, most varied and humanizing literature
now known ! What wonder that the heart of the
German emigrant, amid our western wilderness, oft
sighs, with child-like tenderness, for the joys of Fa-
derland !
The instance of our great maternal progenitor is
frequently pointed to, by the advocates of the ultili-
tarian philosophy, in illustration of their creed. Great
Britain is proudly called the mightiest demonstration
of political and commercial power that the world has
ever seen. This is perhaps true ; and this, to a great
extent, may be traced to the culture of the mechanical
sciences. But is this all ? Have no other, ingredients
entered into the composition of her social and moral
condition ? Are the peasants of Cumberland, or the
merchants of Threadneedle street, better citizens, bet-
ter men, more patriotic, more liberal, more devoted to
the domestic virtues, because, as Croly has proudly
boasted, " the sun never sets upon the British domin-
ions/' or that the Cross of St. George has floated in
triumph in the bay of Canton, or the steamships made
a great turnpike of the Atlantic ? No ! For the se-
crets of England's happiness, you must look to other
sources. The myriad-minded Shakspeare, the gentle
Spenser, the mighty Milton, the benevolent Words-
worth, Lawrence, Keynolds, Hogarth, Chantrey, and
West, have done more for human happiness and virtue,
for fireside comfort and purity, for patriotism and phi-
lanthropy, than all the inventions of Arkwright, or Bol-
ton, or Watt, or Bentley. The sources of moral puri-
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 175
fication are most usually silent and imperceptible in
their operation. Like the sunshine, they give fragrance,
beauty to the flower ; sparkle, freshness to the foun-
tain ; music, blanclness to the breeze ; health, bloom
to the cheek ; and yet the whole process goes on with
the calmness and silence of the old, mysterious bounty.
There is no creaking of the axle ; no stirring of the
dust ! Thus, for ages, have the benefactions of the
arts been poured, like a river, upon the descendants of
the old Saxon stock, — the inheritors of Bollo's Scan-
dinavian blood. Who can tell the influence that the
architecture of their old Gothic cathedrals, standing
all over the island, living proofs of the antiquity, if not
the authenticity, of their faith, has exerted, for ages,
upon the religious character of the English people,
from peer to peasant ? Has not Westminster Abbey,
— that magnificent repository of the illustrious dead,
and of glorious historic recollections, from the banners
of the Armada to the Round Table of Alfred, — with
its high and sculptured arches, its almost speaking
statuary, — fashioned much of the manners and litera-
ture of the white-cliffed isle ? What impulses to pa-
triotism and patriotic valor ! He, who can overlook
these things in an estimate of the seminal principles of
national character, must be blinder than the blind old
king of Corinth.
These glimpses at other nations will verify the posi-
tion that no people have ever attained an exalted
character in literature or ethics, who have neglected
the Fine Arts. Then, — to apply the lesson to our own
country, — should not greater devotion be paid to their
176 ORATIONS.
encouragement among ourselves ? Are we not sadly
deficient in every thing like objects of taste or imagi-
nation ? It has been said by a subtle sophist that
these arts cannot flourish in a democratic government :
that they are ungenial to its very nature. This, if
true ; would be, as it was intended to be, one of the
strongest arguments against Kepublicanism. It would
prove that there could be no refinement in a republic.
But all history contradicts Montesquieu. It is pre-
cisely in such a government as ours that the influence
of the Muses is wanted to complete the system of social
balances. A people to rule themselves must be virtuous
and refined. They must have a taste for the graces and
beatitudes of being. Their selfish propensities, — the
primitive barbarism, — must be checked and removed.
" The decent drapery of life" must be thrown over the
deformities of nature. Loveliness must be made an
attribute of their country, before they can love her like
a mother. This is the moral which we, as a nation,
have to learn.
But, — to confine our sacculations to the section of
the republic, in which we live, — how vast would be the
benefit of the Fine Arts to the Southwest ! We
have seen that there is much in our situation to be
deplored. The vices that mark us, are precisely such
as would be removed by imaginative culture. An in-
fusion of the atmosphere of Attica into our Southern
breezes would regenerate the clime. Our people would
no more degrade themselves by organized violations of
law, or be lashed into tempest by the miserable passions
of the hustings. The cunning aphorism of Fletcher of
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 177
Saltoun, — "let nie make the songs of a people, and
you may make their laws," has recently been tested in
our land. — Let those songs be the pure breathings of
the vestal muse, and the great heart of the country
would pulsate with virtue. If our public buildings
were decorated with tasteful creations of art ; with
noble pictures, breathing grand historic recollections ;
with lofty statues, placing the images of our gallant
ancestry continually before the eye, and sending, to the
degenerate heart, by the mute appeal of a steadfast look,
the noble precepts of their sacred legacy ; if, instead
of that meagre, pinched style of architecture, — the
double cabin, with the passage through the centre, —
so common in all our towns, the graceful shafts of the
Ionic, or the ornate entablatures of the Corinthian,
the massive Doric, or the aspiring Gothic, won the
admiring eye, an elegant taste would manifest itself in
all the relations of life. The old fabric of humanity
has to be disintegrated, or this must be so !
The beneficial influence of such imaginative culture
would demonstrate itself in another respect. The
wealthier portion of our youth, instead of wasting their
patrimonies in idle follies or flagrant dissipation, would
have higher and better objects. So much superfluous
wealth, indeed, would not be expended on the favorites
of the Turf, — some Leviathan colt or Pacolet filley,
or? — to descend in the scale of being, — upon the pas de
seul or the pirouettes of a foreign clanseuse. All that
classical chit-chat about the pedigree and performances
of a Bascombe or a Black Maria, or the swimming grace
and abandoned voluptuousness of an Elssler or a Ce-
178 ORATIONS.
leste, would be terminated ; but other and nobler pur-
poses and phraseology would engage the mind ; purposes
and thoughts more worthy of beings who have already
commenced the grand march of immortality.
When a taste for the Fine Arts is excited among us ;
when that mighty slumbering attribute of the mind ; —
its only immortal part, — the Ideal, is stirred ; and not
till then ; may we hope for a native Literature ; a
Literature that shall redeem and illustrate this mighty
sugar-cane and cotton-growing region. All previous
efforts will be a wasteful dissemination of pearls. You
might as well scatter, with the vain hope of vegetation,
the delicate seed of the chrysanthemum or the dahlia,
upon the sandy slopes of the Chandeleur isles. A few
periodical works, — such as that noble Monthly, the
Southern Literary Messenger, at Kichmond, or its worthy
collaborator, The Magnolia, at Savannah, — may be
maintained by the untiring efforts of an exalted purpose
upon the parts of the publishers ; honoring and beau-
tifying the region in which they are issued ; but they
will meet with no adequate and spirited patronage.
The cultivation of the Fine Arts in our country
being so desirable, it is the part of patriotism to inquire
as to the means by which it can be promoted.
We are apt to look too much to our National Gov-
ernment for an interference in the affairs of life. Such
an interference would be inconsistent with the purposes
for which it was established. And yet, belonging as I
do to the straitest sect of our political Pharisees, I can
see no impediment to its extending a liberal hand of
encouragement to objects of literature and art. The
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 179
wild project of Joel Barlow, for a vast National Uni-
versity, is jjerhaps too heretical for any political sect
of the present day. But the General Government, in
the exercise of its undenied powers, might do much,
it has done something, for the Fine Arts. The capitol
at Washington is a noble specimen of Architecture.
Measures have been taken to decorate its halls and
galleries with splendid specimens of the sculptor's and
painter's genius. Much more might be done. The
various buildings through the country, — the custom-
houses, arsenals, public offices, and the like, — might
be made chaste models of taste and elegance ; and a
generous love of the picturesque and beautiful be thus
engendered. Surely, if the Federal Government had
the authority to fit out the South Sea Exploring Ex-
pedition, — so creditable to American character, — a
fortiori, it has the authority to promote, by similar
means, the moral and social improvement of the people.
There is one undoubted means by which Congress
might readily promote the culture of the Moral Arts.
It will be remembered that a wealthy foreigner, a
younger son of the noble house of Percy, a few years
since, made our government the trustee of a bequest of
a half a million of dollars, for " the increase and
diffusion of knowledge among men." Over the dispo-
sition of this trust, Congress has been squabbling for
several sessions. What nobler disposition could be
made of it ; better in accordance with the wishes of the
testator ; than the establishment of a National Acad-
emy of the Fine Arts ! Such an institution would
give life and energy to the Arts. It would serve as a
180 ORATIONS.
solar center from which taste and refinement might he
radiated through the land. Our artists would have a
Louvre of their own, to which they might journey for
instruction ; a shrine upon which they could fondly
lay their offerings to Genius. The better stars of our
country's destiny, grant that such may be the character
of the Smithsonian Institute !
But it is bv our State Governments that the most
liberal patronage might be extended to the Arts. If
that niggardly spirit of parsimony, which has ever
marked our legislation, could be exorcised, we might look
for generous results. Our public buildings would not
linger in a half-finished condition ; as our State Capitol
has, its bare walls nearly as blank as the minds of
many of its occupants. What an influence, upon the
deliberations of our Collected Wisdom, would several
such noble paintings as Trumbull's " Signers of the
Declaration," or White's "Marion," exercise. The
legislature of North Carolina sat a laudable example
in the purchase of Canova's Statue of Wasington. Its
destruction by fire, a few years since, is more to be
regretted than the conflagration of the capitol itself.
The last has been restored ; but of the other and nobler
possession, we may well ask, " where's the Promethean
spark that can that light relume ?"
After all, it is not to our governments, state or
national, that we are to look for the principal culture
of the Fine Arts. Our social organization is mainly
in the hands of the people. They must weave and
fashion their own destiny. If then, we would acquire
the excellences of every civilized community, let us go
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 181
about the work with the proper spirit and in the right
way. Let the minds of our youth be properly instruc-
ted; let more of the Ideal be infused into their education.
They should be taught to love the beautiful and
spiritual, as well as the practical. " What shall we
eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithall shall
we be clothed ?" should not be the whole burthen of
their song ; their tuition but the degraded pander to
such a litany. If parents and teachers shall have a
proper regard to the welfare of the young immortals
under their guardianship, we shall, in the next genera-
tion, have no deficiency in the noblest graces of a
nation.
It is, however, from our educated young men, that
our country has the most to hope ; that she has the
right to hope the most. Under the bend of a smiling
heaven, she has bestowed upon them all the blessings
of matchless political institutions. At the wells of
olden wisdom, they have been led to drink. The
lessons of philosophy,
" Not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose.
But musical as is Apollo's lute," —
have been instilled into their minds. Our country, —
by no distorted figure of speech, — niay be said to be
looking to her sons, with an anxious, agonizing look
for a requital of her favors. She has a right to insist
that they shall not bend to the parricidal doctrines of
the day. Many, many, many have yielded to the
blandishments of the importunate sibyl. Forgetful
of all the admonitions of history, they have caught
182 ORATIONS.
the epidemic of the age ; have been content to float
with the tide, and pass away, after their little bicker-
ings are over, to swell but the drift-wood of the grave.
This is an unhallowed perversion of all the purposes
for which they were educated. This is doing violence
the best interests of their great Alma Mater. If
our young men ; the thousands who are annually
poured out from our universities and colleges ; were to
pursue a different course, how much good might be
accomplished for the country ! What centres of refine-
ment and instruction might they be ! One true, gener-
ous, unflinching, uncompromising, right-onward, scholar
can make himself be felt in a whole community.
Alone and unaided, he can do much to refine the taste,
elevate the views, and beautify the structure of the
society in which he lives. How much more might the
co-operation of many such do ! By the establish-
ment of lyceums and societies, they could easily dis-
seminate better views among the people. The unread-
ing would listen from curiosity, and be unwittingly
improved. To such institutions, we may look, as an
easy means for the diffusion of the Imaginative Arts.
Valuable collections of painting and sculpture, libraries
of wholesome books, might be made at little individual
expense. Let our educated men attend to these things,
and we may have, at no distant day, the dawn of an
elegant literature, — of a refined social state. The
Southwest will no longer be mapped in the moral
geography, as the land of barbarism and Bowie-knives !
But, as a part of the Omar-like philosophy of the
day, a sentiment prevails in our communitv that the
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 183
culture of the Imaginative Faculties is incompatible
with the purposes of practical life ; that the man who
cultivates literature or the fine arts, even to the slightest
extent, is unqualified for any thing else. This senti-
ment, — the dread of it, — has kept many a man of
genius, from pursuing the bent of his inclination. How
gross is the fallacy ! It is true that there are many
instances of men of purely imaginative minds, such as
Chatterton, Savage, and Kousseau, who have, in the
gratification of the amabilis insania, neglected to pro-
vide for the necessaries of life. It has been said of
poets that poverty is " the badge of all their tribe." This
results, not from any incapacity, upon their part, to
meet the sterner labors of life, but from an exclusive
devotion to the Muse. Disregarding the advice of
Walter Scott, they make literature their sole depend-
ance ; their crutch and not their staff. On the contrary,
in all the principal professions, there are numberles?
instances of men of genius, who have not only discharged,
with exactitude, all the requisitions of business, but
have found ample opportunity for literary exercises.
These are the examples which we would place before
the minds of our young countrymen, and incite them
to imitation.
Let us look to the dry and laborious department of
the Law : the " jealous mistress" as she is called by
Coke ; into whose limits many of you will perhaps one
day enter. Do we find that those, who have risen to
the highest eminence of this profession, were mere
technical proficients ? The incumbents of the Wool-
sack, have, with scarcely an exception, been men of
184 ORATIONS.
letters. " The greatest, wisest of mankind " was no less
the Chancellor of nature and art, than of English equi-
ty. Though his mind was stored with all" the " learned
lumber of the law/' — from estates in remainder,
to actions of assumpsit, — he still found time to develope
the richest and most accurate philosophy, that the
world has seen ; and his profoundest investigations are
covered all over with the hues of poetry. Kun along
the biographical annals of the English lawyers, from
Sir Thomas More to Sergeant Talfourd, and you will
find that all the most eminent cultivated the imagina-
tion, as well as the reasoning powers and the memory.
Blackstone acquired that polished elegance, that chastity
of expression, which invest the beautiful system into
which he brought the chaotic confusion of the Common
Law, from a long experiment of the flexibilities of our
language in poetic diction. His immortal Commenta-
ries are rich with the colorings of fancy. There is not
a happier specimen of ideality in English poetry, than
his extended comparison of the Common Law to an
antique Gothic castle. Numerous other examples of
literary excellence in lawyers ; of those who have loved
to tread in the prim-rose paths of poesy ; might be
drawn from the chronicles of legal life. They are not
needed. Indeed, there is scarcely an instance of a
lawyer, whose name has survived him ; who, in short,
rose above the dead-level of green-bag mediocrity ; who
did not court the Muses. Erskine, the Demosthenes
of the modern bar ; Grattan, the eloquent defender of
Irish liberty, — who " stood by her cradle and followed
her hearse ;" Curran, who said that when he could'nt
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 185
•
talk law, lie talked metaphor ; and Jeffrey, who raised
English composition far above the range of Addison,
and illuminated the pages of the Edinburgh Review for
a quarter of a century ; are a few eloquent instances.
There is one lawyer of the present day who should not
be overlooked. Though the viginti annorum lucubra-
tiones have, with him, been more than doubled, still in
the midst of all, — a crowded practice while young, heavy
official duties in age, — he has found opportunity to do
more than any living man, for literature and science.
The coming age will receive much of its intellectual
form and direction from the extra-judicial exertions of
Henry Brougham.
These instances, without reference to the similar
lives of great American lawyers ; — to Wirt, Story,
Webster, Butler, Gilpin, and the like ; ought to silence
all cavillers, and convince our young men that, so far
from being injured in professional attainments, they
would be greatly benefitted, by an assidous cultivation
of Letters. Let me not, however, be misunderstood by
those who are going to this profession. The black letter
should not be neglected for the illuminated text.
Literature should be the embellishment, and not the
substance of a lawyer's life. There will, however, to
any habitually industrious man, be time and oppor-
tunity enough for both. To none of my friends may
the witty sneer of the English judge, upon the maiden
effort of a young attorney, be ever applicable; "Poor
young man, he has read the wrong Phillips \"
If the cultivation of the Ideal of life is thus proved
to be not incompatible with the " Perfection of Reason ;"
186 ORATIONS.
on still stronger grounds may it be shown to be not in-
consistent with the other learned j>rofessions. Accord-
ingly we find that the most distinguished lights of
Medical Science, and of the Sacred Desk, have possessed
refined imaginations and cultivated taste. Astley
Cooper, Abernethey, Darwin, Abercrombie, Haller,
Zimmerman, Eamsey, Mitchell, and a host of others,
entitled themselves as well to the laurels of their tutelary
deity, as to his secret healing spells. The Pulpit has
ever been the friend of Letters. Its triumphs, in phi-
losophy, in poetry, in eloquence, are so numerous that,
when named in this connection, they come over the
thought like thronging: stars. Would that more of our
Apostles would imitate the noble examples of Jeremy
Taylor and Warburton, of the Wesley s and Clarke, of
Irving and Hall, of Croly and Milman, of Channing
and England, of Bascombe and Maffitt. Their divine
mission could not be better promoted than by the cul-
tivation of those branches of learning, which, like
religion, refine and adorn society, improve the heart,
elevate the intellect, and, in short, benefit and beautify
all the relations of life. The dawn of the Millenial
Sabbath can never come until the material purposes
and barbarous philosophy of the present age are ex-
changed for a more exalted and spiritual faith.
In the view we have taken of the manifestations of
the Imagination, we have said nothing directly of one
of the principal ; the art of the Orator. Those only
have been considered which are popularly included
under the appellation of the Fine Arts. Eloquence,
however, is as much an art as painting or architecture.
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 187
It is one of the forms in which the Ideal of the soul
elucidates itself. In every age and country it has
checked and guided the passions. From the thrilling
cry of Demosthenes, "let us march against the man
of Macedon," to the enthusiastic shout of Peter the
Hermit, ringing all through the dark headlands of
Europe, " Rescue the Holy Sepulchre ;" from the
senatorial grace and energy of Mirabeau and Chatham,
to the wood-notes wild of the Orator of Virginia ;
from the calmness and dignity of Paul before Agrippa,
to the fervor of the Blind Preacher, — " Socrates died
like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ like a God !" — it
has asserted its triumphs. Well might Chancellor
Kent, in such a relation, say " peace has its victories
as well as war I" For of all the victories which
humanity has accomplished, there are none to compare,
in moral sublimity, with those of the mighty orator,
standing single-handed and alone, with no ally but
his own internal energies ; standing calmly and boldly,
with his brow unruffled and his form erect, in a tempest
of opposition, upon some mighty moral Waterloo ;
checking the advance of Wrong, and directing the
marshalled masses about him, with the same ease and
exactness of sway with which the sun whirls worlds
around him, as if every ray of his glory were an arm
of Titan power.
We cannot stay to paint those victories. The field
is illimitable. Eloquence has ever been the greatest
of moral agents. From the pulpit, and the bar, and
the forum, and the hustings, it has fallen like a wizard
spell upon mankind. Alas ! how low is its state in
\
188 ORATIONS.
our country ! To what a degradation has it been
reduced, when the Congregated Wisdom of the nation,
— occupying the places once held by the Fathers and
Prophets of constitutional freedom, — can stoop for days
to the vile vandalism of an Ogle, or the disgraceful
diatribes of Doctor Duncan !
It would be ungenerous in a survey of the condition
of the Fine Arts in our country, to neglect the mention
of some of our own artists who have shed honor upon
the South. In the Cimmerian gloom which covers us,
the name of Washington Allston shines like a star.
The boy of Carolina, by the staunch liftings of an
eagle spirit, — unaided and unencouraged, — has risen
to the highest pinnacles of his profession. The stern
voice of criticism, and the gentle lips of consenting
beauty, even in the old world, have hailed him as the
Apelles of the age. When American genius is spoken
of, abroad, the name of Allston is linked with Irving,
and Bancroft, and Bryant. Of less reputation, but of
no niean attainments in their profession, are Cogdell,
Frasjer, Crawford, Mills, and White, natives of the
South : while, from our kindred West, kindred in
character and origin, Power, and Brackett, and William
"West have stepped to exalted niches in the temple of
art. These have proven that, if our people would but
encourage genius, we have material, native with us,
from which a lofty intellectual Vatican might be
erected.
But we must hasten to a conclusion. You have
been detained too long, Gentlemen, by this weak effort
to dej3ict the evils of the mechanical exclusiveness of
JACK-CADEISM AND THE FINE ARTS. 189
the day ; its blasting effects, particularly in our section,
upon morals, literature, and all the refined purposes of
social life ; and by the attempt to show that those evils
can only be eradicated, as they have been from all na-
tions distinguished for a lofty intellectual and moral ex-
istence, by a generous culture of the Plastic Arts. Yet
the subject is one of vast importance. There is a Phi-
losophy of the Imagination, — though never chaptered in
Political Economy, — as profound and as productive of
extended practical benefit, as ever Ricardo, or Adam
Smith, established for the grosser objects of sense. It
is precisely such a philosophy we want most. We
need no renewed incentives to traffic or accumulation.
They are as strong with us as the all-compelling prin-
ciple of gravitation. We want motives to loftier and
less material creeds. I could not, therefore, upon this
occasion, — when called to speak before those who are
hereafter to stand, perhaps at the helm of State, cer-
tainly at the helm of mind, in our land, — decline an
effort to do something, however little, for principles so
essential to our weal as a people ; so interlinked with
all our better hopes and duties ; so pernicious if over-
looked ; so fraught with happiness and excellence if
rightly cultured. Their neglect is not merely a tem-
porary evil. Every age bears, in some manner, within
itself, the age that is to follow. If we would have
our posterity intellectual and refined, we must begin
the improvement. Oh, if we would but rightly act,
what a glorious reversion might be theirs ! I am apt,
in spite of all discouragements, to be enthusiastic upon
the destinies of my country. When I look upon all
190 OBATIONS.
her giant physical resources ; her matchless political
institutions ; and, more than all, when I cling, with a
prophet's fondness, to the belief that her people will
yet waken up to the nobler purposes of social being ;
I feel a pride in our plain democratic patrimony, which
I would not exchange for all the tawdy furniture and
gilded trappings of aristocratic institutions. At such
an hour, the young American patriot can, like the old
Welsh bard upon the rock of Snowden, take his stand,
as we now do, upon the summit of one of our over-
looking mountains, and see, far off, through the lifting
haze of futurity, the domes and turrets of a mighty
people, flashing in the eyes of the gladdened sun ; the
mingled harmonies of intellectual and religious excel-
lence going up from every vale and hill-top ; social
and domestic beauty covering the land like a smiling
atmosphere ; each successive billow of time rolling up
an accumulation of improvement ; and the whole
mighty heart palpitating with virtuous emotions of
pride and joy at the rapid strides which these young
republics have made, and are still making, to perfec-
tion. Heaven grant that such visions may prove
something better than the wild dreams of Plato, or the
Utopian fancies of More !
NATIONAL WELCOME
TO THE SOLDIERS RETURNING FROM MEXICO
A INT ORATION
2pelibereb hro Jlppointmcnt, ai |$obxlc, SUabama,
JULY 4, 1848.
ORATION.
When a Roman army had achieved some important
victory, and returned to the city, accompanied by
spoils and captives, the gratified inhabitants, with ex-
ulting shouts, welcomed them at the gates, conducted
them through the long and glittering streets, beneath
flower- wreathed and sculptured arches, and, from the
lofty porticos of the capitol, proclaimed that the occa-
sion should be commemorated as a national holiday.
In a kindred spirit, we have met, upon this our
country's anniversary, to welcome the return of a por-
tion of a gallant army, who, battling in their country's
cause in a foreign land, have won laurels as glorious
and brilliant as ever decked the brow of Roman con-
queror or consul. The time is fortunately adapted to
the occasion ; and we can but regard it as a happy co-
incidence, that we should now be able to greet the
return of the gallant soldier, the war-worn patriot, the
choicest spirits of the fame-covered army of Mexico,
amid the light and exultation of another Sabbath of
194 ORATIONS.
our political independence. Their deeds have served
to elucidate afresh the primal splendors of this morn-
ing of liberty ; and it is fit that we, while meeting
around the old altars upon which were kindled the
fires of seventy-six, should mingle, with the gratitude
and reverence we pay the sainted fathers of our land,
our admiration and our love for their worthy descen-
dants who have lit the fires of freedom and fame anew.
The lessong of the day would indeed seem to demand
such an acknowledgment ; and even now, throughout
all portions of this broad continental republic of ours,
amidst the hymns of thanksgiving and shouts of joy
with which the day has been hailed, is heard one uni-
versal sentiment of praise and panegyric for the heroic
hearts who have placed the standard of the stars above
those lofty palaces where once floated the golden
gonfalon of Cortez, and was heard the wild music of
the teocallis of Montezuma.
To the soldier himself, it must be particularly
gratifying to be welcomed home amidst the national
music and imtriotic ceremonials which attest that the
lofty sentiments of liberty, the noble lessons of ances-
tral wisdom, and the generous admiration for courage,
patriotism and heroic self-devotion, are not yet extinct
in the country of his birth and love. His own heart
has recently received a new baptism and inspiration ;
and it exults, like a young eagle, once more to soar in
the breezes of freedom, and bathe its plumage in the
rich sunlight of independence now spreading like the
broad smile of heaven, over the green land of Wash-
ington, from the rocky pinnacles of New England to
NATIONAL WELCOME. 195
the sunset-reddened waters of the Gulph of Cali-
fornia !
With these emotions, we all, citizen, and soldier,
hail another return of our national jubilee ! It has
come under circumstances of peculiar and unprece-
dented interest. Never before did our country, in her
internal condition, as well as in her relations with the
rest of the world, present herself in so imposing, so
influential a position. Three score years and ten and
two have passed since the establishment of her nation-
al ity, by the Declaration of Independence ; and in that
period she has sprung up from a state of colonial
vassalage to imperial magnitude and grandeur. The
infant Hercules, which could scarcely strangle the
serpents around his cradle, now stands almost like the
Angel of the Apocalypse, with one foot upon the
mounains of the East, and the other upon the waters
of the Pacific, and proclaims to the world the downfall
of despotism, — the termination of tyranny.
This growth and extension of our country have no
parallel in the history of the world. Man, under the
influence of free institutions, seems to have been
gifted with new power of increase and expansion. The
thirteen meagre colonies that, in 1776, hemmed the
Atlantic, with a population of scarcely three million
of inhabitants, destitute of any of the higher advan-
tages or opportunities of social, intellectual, moral, or
political culture, have now become thirty flourishing
States, with vast territorial dominions, more than
treble their original size, bordering on all the seas of
North America, and embracing a population of twenty
196 OKATIONS.
millions of souls, existing in the highest social and
political condition, blessed by all the benefactions of
science, art, literature and religion.
Well may such a people rejoice on the birth-day of
the nationality, which has given them all this. But
it is not in this alone, nor in this chiefly, that the
philosophic mind finds cause for rejoicing, upon this
anniversary. The Fourth of July gave birth to some-
thing better than a nation. It gave birth to an idea,
to liberty — to principles, never before recognized,
without which all nationhood would be tyranny, and
which are as essential to human happiness as the at-
mosphere to the lungs, or religion to the soul of the
sinner. These principles became incarnate in our form
of government — we became the Messiah of the new po-
litical creed, and we sent our doctrines into the world
to preach the gospel to every creature.
The world was slow to learn the lessons of trutk.
Nations were like Saul of Tarsus, with scales upon
their eyes, going on to the Damascus of despotism.
Suddenly and of late, a light has shone out as from
heaven upon the nations of Europe. The slumber-
ing continent was heaved like a sea in a tempest.
Thrones and crowns, and sceptres — the regalia of roy-
alty, the baubles and gewgaws of aristocracy, were,
like the host of Pharaoh, swallowed up in the Red
Sea of Revolution. France sprung to republicanism
in full beauty and symmetry ; and, from the orange
groves of Sicily to the poplar avenues on the Danube,
spread the great principles of our Declaration of Inde-
pendence, " that governments are instituted among
NATIONAL WELCOME. 197
men only for the protection of life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness, deriving their just powers alone
from the consent of the governed."
But, while well-nigh all Europe, — France, Italy,
Austria, Prussia, Holland and Belgium, at least, have
been illuminated by the radiance which beamed from
the burning throne of the Bourbon, — by the Prome-
thean fire that young La Fayette snatched from the
altars of American Liberty, — it is melancholy to be -
hold the oppression, the degradation, the darkness
that have covered, with a foul eclipse, the beautiful
but blasted land of Emmet, Grattan, Curran and
O'Connell. The cradle in which has been rocked so
many of the champions of freedom in every struggling
nation ; so much of the genius, eloquence and courage,
which have illustrated and adorned the annals of our
own country ; which gave to us a Montgomery, an Ad-
dis Emmett, and a Shields, — lies bound around by the
Anaconda folds of our own ancestral tyrant ; and the
world has recently beheld, in the full light of the
civilization of the nineteenth century, before the eyes
of all men, a gallant patriot, a man of soul and genius,
for fearlessly daring to express Republican sentiments,
for nobly asserting God's truth and God's freedom,
snatched by the myrmidons of power from his house-
hold altars, from the bosom of his fair wife, and the
arms of his young rosy children, — condemned as a
felon, and hurried off in chains to the hulks of Ber-
muda ! Ah, sirs, this is the very sublimity of melan-
choly ! The incarceration of John Mitchel is a cloud
that blots half the sun of the age. Great God ! shall
198 ORATIONS.
these things continue ? Shall Ireland always be the
slave-yard of England and Famine ?
Oh, blood of martyrs ! staining all her green,
Soon may you wash her spotted garments clean ;
The Harp of Tara ! soon may it pour forth
The olden anthems thro' the island-north ;
And Emmett's epitaph ring o'er the sea,
Erin Mavoureen ! thou art free, thou art free 1
But let us not sadden farther the enthusiasm of to-
day, by thoughts like these. There is cause enough
for exultation here in this Palestine of the West. Our
country has passed through two full generations of
manhood, and has signalized, both in peace and war,
the stability of her institutions, and their capacity of
extension at least to an entire continent. The croak-
ing prophets of despotism told us, at the outset, that
our government might work well upon a small scale ;
that like a summer flower it would bloom in the peace-
ful sunshine, but that it could not stand the storms
of war ; that like a circle in the waters it would dis-
solve by exjmnsion ; that we would be weak, distracted,
and ineffective for any gigantic struggle with foreign
nations. Thanks to the better wisdom of our ances-
tors ; thanks to the sagacious pilots who have stood at
the helm of the Ship of State ; thanks to the stout
arms and bold hearts of our patriotic yeomanry ;
thanks, especial thanks, to the gallant army of Mexico,
the lie has been given to all such ill-omened forebod-
ings. It has been proven that the machinery of this
government, though, like the allegoric vision of Ezekiel,
it has its wheels within its wheels, with nice and deli-
NATIONAL WELCOME. 199
cate arrangement, has yet energy and power that can
resist and overcome all attacks from internal or exter-
nal foes ! I will not linger upon a consideration of
its workings in the midst of peace ; but pass at once
to a review of the spectacles which have been presented
in the recent war with Mexico. This will be more
appropriate to the present time and occasion.
Three years ago, our country had been in a state of
unexampled peace and prosperity for thirty years. She
had gone on expanding in population and wealth, with
magical rapidity ; spreading the waves of civilization
all over the valleys and mountains of the west ; and
making the wilderness and desert places to bloom and
blossom like the rose. She was at peace with all na-
tions. Upon her Southwestern border lay a young
Republic, peopled by emigrants from her own bosom,
that had won its independence and established its na-
tionality in the eyes of the world, and had been recog-
nised by all the leading nations of Europe as a free
and separate sovereignty. For seven years it had as-
serted its sovereignty from the Sabine to the Rio
Grande, its defined limits in its constitution, without
even an effort upon the part of its original rulers to
exert authority or jurisdiction over it. It was as in-
dependent then, according to the laws of nations, as
the United States are to-day. This young Republic
sought admission into our confederacy. By a public,
peaceful act, we admitted her, with her constitutional
boundaries ; but at the same time avowed our readi-
ness to make all rightful reparation for any injury
done, and to treat with the neighboring nation for a
200 ORATIONS.
proper line of boundary. This peaceful, prudent mea-
sure, Mexico, the claimant country, notwithstanding
her claim had expired by every statute of limitation,
besides having been lost by an original action of eject-
ment, chose to construe into an insult to her Castillian
dignity. At once she sounded the clarion of war, and
issued her national proclamation that she would not
cease from hostilities till she had driven every Ameri-
can, east of the Sabine. Suddenly, after months of
secret preparation, she poured a large army over the
Rio Grande, and struck the first blow upon the soil of
the United States. Congress, at once, with a unani-
mity that presented but two opposing voices in the
Senate, and but fourteen in the House, declared " war
to exist by the act of the Republic of Mexico/' and
preparations were at once made to conduct it to " a
speedy and successful termination."
Thus, by no fault of ours, we were involved in this
Mexican war ; and we entered into it like Godfrey of
Bouillon, with the Holy Lance, into the field of Asca-
lon, crying " God for the Right and the Just I" The
events that followed constitute the brightest an-
nals in our history. Upon the fields of Palo Alto and
Resaca de la Palma, at Monterey and Buena Vista,
the heroic Taylor and his chivalrous little army per-
formed feats of valor and prowess which hurled back,
in ignominious defeat and confusion, the multitudinous
hordes of Mexico, and covered the American name
with a blaze of glory. The blessings of our people
every where, of every faith, are resting like a beautiful
diadem upon his brow.
NATIONAL WELCOME. 201
I cannot stop to depict the many thrilling incidents
connected with these engagements. One only will T
mention, as it is especially honoring to a gallant offi-
cer, now within the sound of my voice, and whom Ala-
bama is proud to claim as an adopted son. In the
terrific battle of Buena Vista, when, wave after wave,
the Mexican forces, confident in their overwhelming
numbers, had dashed and broken upon our apparently
devoted little army, which appeared about to crumble
and sink before the repeated onsets ; when Santa Anna
rallied his Aztec legions, his reserve corps, and brought
them down to sweep all before him ; — then, when the
standard of the eagle and the stars was waving to and
fro, like the torn sail of a sinking ship in a storm,
then, at that critical moment, when O'Brien's battery
had been captured — then, says General Taylor, in his
official report, " Captain Bragg, who had just arrived
from the left, was ordered at once into battery. With-
out any infantry to support him, and at the imminent
risk of losing his guns, this officer came rapidly into
action, the Mexican line being but a few yards from
the muzzles of his pieces. The first discharge of can-
ister caused the enemy to hesitate ; the second and
third drove him back in disorder, and saved the day!"
Proud words, proudly won !
But it is with the incidents of the war on the South-
ern Line, as it is called — with that brilliant series of
victories, beginning at Vera Cruz, and terminating at
the city of Mexico, that we have chiefly to deal to-day.
We all remember when the call for volunteers was sent
through our land, like the fiery cross of Clan Alpir
202 ORATIONS.
through the hills of Scotland. We all remember, when
it was announced that the gallant hero of Queenstown,
Chippewa, and Niagara was to lead the expedition,
with what alacrity and enthusiasm the ardent young
men of our country, following the heroic example which
had been set them by our gallant veteran, Desha, re-
sponded to the call of the government. They were
anxious to emulate the deeds of their ancestors ; and
the rusted sword of the Revolution, and the tattered
banner of 1812, were again given to the sunshine and
the breeze. Every section of the Union sent forth its
contributions of energy and valor. It is not my pur-
pose now to designate all of these, but it is proper that
I should refer specially to one regiment, whose remnant
— ah, sad word ! — whose remnant is before me. The
citizens of Mobile had the proud pleasure to testify
their admiration and regard for the Palmetto Regiment,
as it passed through this city on its way to the war.
It was then composed of more than a thousand men,
headed by the gallant Butler, whose name was even
then a synonyme for all that was valorous and noble.
Long shall we remember the feast of patriotism and
the flow of feeling, the gushing emotions, and the elo-
quent words which marked our intercourse, on the day
they embarked for the scene of operations. Proud an-
ticipations and fond hoj)es were cherished that they
would prove themselves worthy descendants of sires
who had fought and bled at Eutaw, Camden, and The
Cowpens. With similar emotions, we saw the gallant
sons of Georgia, and the chivalrous spirits of our own
State, pass through this city, for the beleaguered con-
NATIONAL WELCOME. 203
fines of Mexico ; and their enthusiastic patriotism, for-
titude and perseverance proved that they wanted hut
fair fields and favorable opportunities to have accom-
plished as valiant performances as those that fell to
the good fortune of any portion of the army.
Time would fail even to enumerate the interesting
events which now followed, adding to the imperishable
fame of our country. We can but glance at a few
which stand out prominently above the rest.
As the yellow rays of sunset streamed along the
white line of coast, and the smooth and glassy waters
of the gulf, near Cape Antonio Lizardo, and west of
the Island of Sacrificios, on the ninth of March, 1847,
was presented the most singular and brilliant spectacle
ever witnessed on this continent. A fleet of frigates,
steamers, and transports, each bearing the star-
spangled banner, lay stationed along the bay ; and
soon a long line of surf boats, bearing four thousand
men, under the immediate command of General Worth,
to the sound of spirited martial music, and with a
shout that made the welkin ring, as a gun gave signal,
bore for the shore. As the keels touched the shallow
beach, the men sprang waist-deep in the water, and
simultaneously ascended the sandy slope, and formed
in battle array. Soon another line followed, and ano-
ther, and the American army ivas in Mexico, and the
city of Vera Cruz invested. With its powerful castle
of San Juan d'Ulloa, it had been deemed impregnable,
the Gibraltar of America ; but after thirteen days' in-
vestment, it was compelled to yield to the profound
204 ORATIONS.
scientific skill and regulated valor of the "Kepublic of
the North."
Now began that series of brilliant victories of which
I have spoken. When we compare the disparity of
forces ; when we reflect that one army fought u}3on
the march, ever wearied and jaded, exposed to the in-
clemencies of a hostile climate, in the midst of an ene-
my's country ; and the other from its mountain fast-
nesses, and well-wrought fortifications, with every ad-
vantage of a knowledge and possession of the country
— we shall find nothing in all history to surpass the
achievements of the American arms.
Up through the long and difficult passes of the
Cordilleras ; by the gigantic gorges and tremendous
chasms ; over the pedigrals of volcanoes ; across tum-
bling mountain torrents, where every bridge was a for-
tification ; beneath the eye of Popocatapetl and Ori-
zaba, — the little army of Scott, seldom exceeding ten
thousand men, pushed its way onward to the heart of
the country. In vain did Santa Anna struggle to
make of Cerro Gordo, a Mexican Thermopylae. The
American army bore down all resistence, and struck
the mind of Mexico with a consternation from which
it never recovered. Here the gallant Shields was shot
through the breast by a grape-shot, Providence, how-
ever, preserving him to reap greener laurels upon sub-
sequent fields of fame.
On the 17th of August, the army reached the turn-
ing ridge of the mountains, and here, from the spot
called Buena Vista by Humboldt, was caught the first
view of the valley of Mexico, containing its brilliant
NATIONAL WELCOME. 205
and populous city. A lovelier vision has never risen
on the eye of man since the old prophet stood upon
the summit of Pisgah, and gazed upon the flowery
Palestine below. It spread out like a rich garden,
teeming with every variety of tropical fruit, plant and
flower. The orange tree waved its glistening foliage,
but half concealing its golden apples, and the pome-
granate and the cactus 'displayed their gorgeous blos-
soms, giving far other invitation than to the hostile
visitations of war.
" Oh, Christ! it was a goodly sight to see
What heaven hatd done for that delicious land."
But man had prostituted its beauties by his evil
passions and malignant deeds ; and the stern voice of
duty called our gallant army on, in their effort to re-
duce to subjection a foe which pertinaciously refused
all offers of peace. This was one great characteristic
in the management of this war, which will redound to
the eternal honor of our government, that we always
bore the olive-branch in advance of the sword — and,
before we would crush our foe, invited him to peace.
But, with a fatuity almost like insanity, he continued
to reject our proffers.
In the middle of the summer solstice, our army
reached the fields of Contreras and Churubusco. There
the enemy had rallied all his forces for a desperate and
final struggle, and had entrenched himself with the
most powerful fortifications. But after battles on two
successive days, he was completely vanquished — the
fourth army which the Mexican Republic had raised
206 ORATIONS.
in eighteen months being destroyed, and the capitol of
the "magnanimous nation" left completely at the
mercy of the conqueror. These battles, called by Gen.
Scott the Battles of Mexico, were the greatest ever
fought on this side of the Atlantic — if we except the
almost fabulous narratives given of the forces of Boli-
var, Hidalgo and Morelos. The Mexicans numbered
fully thirty thousand men, while Scott had not one-
third of that number. Here the Palmetto Regiment
won its most brilliant laurels — laurels alas ! bathed in
the heart's blood of its gallant commander. In the
thickest of the terrible fight of Churubusco, when others
had faltered, when the day seemed well nigh lost, the
heroic Shields determined to make one more desperate
struggle for victory. He rode up before the Palmetto
Regiment, and demanded, loud above the din of battle
— "Who will follow me?" "Everv South Carolinian
here, General," exclaimed the noble Butler, "will follow
you to the death \" And through the iron hail, like
the Old Guard at Lodi, the Palmettoes dashed to the
charge — and the victory. But a terrible toll did they
pay at those gates of death. In front of his regiment
bravely cheering them on, their " father and their
colonel " fell ! Oh do not deem his death unfortunate.
He fell as brave men love to die. Sooner or later death
must come to us all ; — the fresh green turf is a far
sweeter couch than the feverish bed, — and there is no
nobler boon than to " look proudly to Heaven from
the death bed of fame/' Sleep proudly, noble Butler !
The children of future days will speak thy name with
pride, and strive to imitate thy deeds ; — and when
NATIONAL WELCOME. 207
Carolina's sons shall be called, in their country's service,
to other fields of fame, they will pray to pass like thee,
in Enoch's riery chariot to heaven.
An armistice delayed the forward movement of our
trooj)s ; and it was, with Punic faith, improved by the
enemy to organise further resistance, and to collect his
energies and resources in the vain hope of saving hie
capital from its threatened doom. The treachery being
detected, hostilities were at once resumed, and the san-
guinary struggles at Molino del Rey and Chapultepec
ensued. These terrific contests seemed to revive all the
horrors of the triste noche of Cortez ; and the cause-
ways which had been baptized by Castillian blood, were
bathed anew by the ensanguined torrents that flowed,
as fast and freely, from the bosoms of American valor.
The terrible disproportion of forces, the formidable for-
tifications which had to be overcome, invested the
achievements, of our troops with a splendor as brilliant
as the richest haloes of chivalry. They are all recorded
by the pencil of the historian in illuminated letters, and
I need but allude to them.to fill the mind with throno-ino;
scenes of embattled contest, heroic achievements, indom-
itable fortitude — the waving banners, the thundering
artillery, the gleaming lines, the charging squadrons —
the shrieks, the roar, the carnage and the smoke of war
in all its most imposing forms. Here, in cooperation
with the whole armv, the Palmetto Regiment renewed
its right to be called by excellency, the chivalry of the
Union, and the gallant Gladden signalised his title to
wear the blood-stained mantle which had fallen from
the shoulders of Butler. Numberless instances of per-
208 ORATIONS.
sonal valor might be enumerated ; but I shall content
myself with mentioning one, which will illustrate the
spirit, the undying resolution, that fired the bosoms of
all the gallant soldiers of our country upon that memo-
rable occasion.
In one of the storming parties, at the hill of Cha-
pultepec, the banner of his regiment was entrusted to a
regular soldier, who pledged his word that he never
would surrender it. Up through the iron hurricane
that decimated their ranks as they went, the chosen
stormers moved, that banner borne proudly in front.
Suddenly it was seen to sink ; an officer leaped to the
the side of the standard bearer ; a grape shot had torn
away half his head, and he had fallen ; but still his
hands were clenched to the flag staff, and it was only
by a desperate struggle, and not till death had quenched
all his strength, that the standard could be liberated,
and borne onward to the entrenchments. That soldier
passed, with the star spangled banner waving above his
soul, to the battlements of heaven !
Ah ! well might Mexican desperation make its
deadliest stand at the hill of Chapultepec — for full in
sight lay the magnificent capital, the prize of the
victory — and after a few more sanguinary encounters,
at the garitas of Belen and San Cosme, the American
army passed into the plaza of Mexico — the great bell
of the Cathedral tolled the death of a nation — and the
commander-in-chief of the forces of the North pitched
his head quarters in the vaunted palace of the Monte-
zumas !
The war, it may be said, was now terminated —
NATIONAL WELCOME. 209
though many subsequent and guerilla contests con-
tinued the ineffectual struggle. A peace was conquered
— and after some months of negotiation, a treaty of
amity and friendly relations was established. The
American forces have been gradually retiring from the
country ; and it is to greet the return of some who have
participated in the noble achievnments which I have
so poorly portrayed, that we have assembled here to
day. In the midst of the patriotic enthusiasm engend-
ered by another recurrence of our national aniversary,
and with a full appreciation of all their heroic per-
formances, with hearts bounding with joy and pride,
we welcome them back to the shores of the Union.
The glad waters of the Gulf of Mexico have borne them
in triumph, and with seeming exultation in all its
waves, to our arms, and our hearts, and with the
thunder of artillery, the plaudits of millions, the Amer-
ican people cry to them welcome, welcome to the land,
whose annals they have re-illuminated with a light and
beauty equalled only by our Revolutionary glory.
Soldiers of Mexico, we give you here, the first greet-
ings of the American people. Everywhere in your
progress through the land, you will be met by the
cheers and admiration of one sex, and the smiles and
the love of the other. While we will drop with you
the tears of profoundest and tenderest sorrow for the
loss of those who now sleep in soldiers' graves, upon
the mountain slopes and battle plains of Mexico, while
we shall long keep bright their memories in the sanc-
tuaries of the heart, we will yet extend to the survi-
vors, our warmest gratitude, our most imperishable
210 ORATIONS.
admiration. You have given lessons and examples
which will tell upon the destinies of our country ;
which have elevated her in the estimation of all na-
tions ; which, while extending our dominions over ter-
ritories of imperial breadth, have proven our national
capacities for the trials of war as well as the amenities
of peace ; and which have gone far in accomplishing
our great destiny of including the whole North
American continent in one mighty brotherhood of free
and nourishing States, that shall ever stand, a Pharos
of Freedom, to illuminate and guide the world. Then,
Soldiers of Mexico, in the light of this national jubilee,
welcome back, thrice welcome to the blue skies, and
fertile fields, the happy homes and free and peaceful
institutions, of the Republic of North America !
SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO.
[This sketch was originally published in 1839, and was the first
attempt made to locate definitely the route of De Soto, through the
Southwest. As all subsequent writers have followed its statements,
it is here retained in its original form, as the authentic basis of a
most interesting and romantic chapter of our history.]
The history of the Southwestern States commences
at a period antecedent to that of any other portion of
the American Union. Long before the Pilgrims had
landed at Plymouth, or the bold and chivalrous Smith
had led his followers into the savage wilds of Virginia,
— Spanish enterprise and prowess had over-run and
subjugated the greater portion of that territory, now
included within the States of Georgia, Alabama,
Mississippi, Louisiana, and Florida. Indeed, it was
that part of North America which was first discovered
and settled by European adventurers. As early as the
year 1512, Juan Ponce de Leon, a hardy and adven-
turous cavalier, who had been a distinguished compan-
ion of Columbus, discovered the peninsula of Florida,
and gave it that name from the brilliant profusion of
214 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
flowers, which decorated its coast, and from the day,
on which it was discovered ; being the Pascua Florida,
or Feast of Flowers. The name was subsequently
applied, by the Spaniards, to all the Southern portion
of North America ; which they claimed, by the right
of discovery, for the crown of Spain. Numerous expe-
ditions were made, within the next ten years, for the
further discovery and conquest of the country, which,
it was fondly dreamed, abounded in wealth and magnifi-
cence, that would cast the golden splendors of Mexico
and Peru, into the shade. These expeditions all
resulted unfortunately for those engaged in them.
The most extensive and disastrous was that of Pam-
philo de Narvaez, who, with three hundred men, under-
took the conquest of Florida, in 15*28. He landed
near the bay, then, as now, called Apalachee, and
made an expedition of eight hundred miles into the
interior. His route is not known. At the end of six
months he returned to the coast, with all his high
hopes of wealth and conquest shattered and gone ; his
ranks wofully thinned by disease and death ; and the
remnant of his forces in a condition of most miserable
penury, and without vessels to convey them from the
country. Several rude barques were constructed, in
which they put to sea, but they were all shipwrecked
in a storm near the mouth of the Mississij)pi ; and but
four irdividuak escaped, who, after long wanderings
and captivity, for near seven years, ultimately reached
Mexico, by land, to tell the sad story. The accounts
vhich they gave of the immense extent and magnifi-
cence of the countries, through which they had passed,
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 215
though partaking of the character of the boldest fiction,
were readily believed by their countrymen, whose
minds already regarded Florida, as more than a Land
of Promise, and as abounding, not only in unparalleled
opulence, but in fountains of such miraculous virtue,
as to perpetuate youth, and to restore old age to its
primal vigor and bloom.
Inspired by these incitements, and thirsting for fame
and conquest, Hernando de Soto, a Spanish cavalier,
in the year 1538, fitted out an expedition for the con-
quest of Florida. He was a gentleman of high birth
and connections, and had enriched and distinguished
himself, by a campaign in Peru, under Pizarro. At
his request, Charles V. constituted him Governor of
Cuba, and invested him with absolute power over the
immense territory of Florida, which he undertook to
subjugate at his own expense. Fitting out a most
splendid armament, in which was invested all his own
wealth, and that of his companions, many of whom
had amassed immense fortunes by previous enterprises
in America, he set sail from the port of San Lucar of
Barrimeda, on the 6th of April — " as gaily as if it had
been but the holiday excursion of a bridal party." He
stopped in the island of Cuba, long enough to make
arrangements for its government, during his absence ;
and then proceeded for Florida, which he reached in the
month of May, 1539, and anchored in a bay, which he
called Espiritu Santo ; now known as Tampa Bay.
The number of his forces, on landing, was six hundred
and twenty men ; two hundred and twenty- three of
whom were mounted on excellent horses. These, —
216 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
many of whom were cavaliers of great wealth and dis-
tinction, — all partook of the enthusiasm of their leader ;
and were perhaps as gallant and proud a band of
soldiers, as have ever been collected together. They
were provided with all the means and muniments of
war ; with helmets, bucklers, corslets, shields and
swords ; and presented as gay and glittering a spectacle
as the eye could wish to look upon. In addition to arms
of all kinds then in use, everything was provided, that
the experience of former campaigns had proved to be ser-
vicable ; chains and manacles for captives ; ample stores
of provisions ; a large drove of hogs for stocking the
country ; tools of every description ; bloodhounds to
ferret out the inhabitants ; and — in strange parallel —
even the sacred emblems and implements of Christi-
anity, for the purpose of diffusing the mild rays of
the Star of Bethelem, amid the wilds of Paganism.
On the 1st of June, De Soto commenced his march
into- the interior. And here begins an expedition
unparalleled in the annals of history. In the language
of an eloquent writer on the subject — " it was poetry
put into action ; it was the knight errantry of the old
world carried into the depths of the American wilder-
ness. Indeed, the personal adventures, — the feats of
individual prowess, — the picturesque descriptions of
steel-clad cavaliers, with lance and helm and prancing
steed, glittering through the wildernesses of Florida,
Georgia, Alabama, and the prairies of the Far West,
would seem to us mere fictions of romance, did they
not come to us recorded in matter of fact narratives of
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 217
cotemporaries, and corroborated by daily and minute
memoranda of eye witnesses/'*
It is with this bold and chivalrous expedition that
the History of Alabama may be said to commence.
Apart from the interesting incidents of the expedition,
— the chief of which occurred within her borders, — the
details of the campaign, as given by cotemporary histo-
rians, tend to throw light upon circumstances and
customs, which would otherwise remain mysteries ;
and serve to elucidate, to some extent, the situation
and character of her aboriginal inhabitants. We shall
therefore record, at some length, the movements and
adventures of De Soto and his companions — particu-
larly of that portion, which occurred within the present
limits of the State of Alabama. Those which hap-
pened within the bounds of the other States, through
which he passed, are more properly the province of
their respective historians, and fall only incidentally
within the object of these sketches.
Before proceeding to narrate the particulars of this
expedition, let us say a w r ord concerning the sources
from wdiich we draw our information. Of the adven-
tures of De Soto, there are two authentic narratives.f
The first is that of a Portuguese gentleman, who was
one of the companions of De Soto, but whose name is
* Theodore Irving's " Conquest of Florida."
f Since this sketch was written a third narrative of this expedition,
by Louis Hernandez de Biedman, a companion of De Soto, has been
found and published. It was presented to the King of Spain, in 1544.
and contaias an original report of De Soto from Tampa Bay, dated
July 9, 1539. It is very reliable.
218 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
not known. His work was first published at Evora, in
1557. It has been frequently republished and trans-
lated into different languages. The first English edi-
tion was published in 1609, by Hakluyt. To the work
much faith was given at the time of its publication,
and it contains internal proofs of its correctness. The
other account of this expedition was published in 1603,
and is denominated "The Florida of the Inca, or the
History of the Adelantado, Hernando de Soto, Gov-
ernor and Captain-General of the Kingdom of Florida,
and of other heroic cavaliers, Spaniards and Indians :
written by the Inca Garcilaso de la Vega." This work
was originally published in Spanish, and has been repeat-
edly translated. It is not the production of an eye-wit-
ness, but of a Spanish writer of undoubted veracity, who
received his account from three cavaliers of worth and
respectability, who were in the expedition. These two
works, though they vary in many of their details, yet suffi-
ciently corroborate each other, as to increase their general
credibility. They have been relied on by all subsequent
historians, as fountains of truth, and Theodore Irving has
collated a most interesting work from their respective
narratives. From these sources, aided by the researches
of other valuable authors,* we shall draw the statements
we shall give. We intend also to trace the course of
De Soto through Alabama, from the knowledge we
possess, ourselves, of the country.
De Soto, as has been stated, commenced his march
* Belknap's Amer. B:og., v. 1, p. 185—189. McCuIlough's Re-
searches, p. 522 — 531. Nuttall's Arkansas, 247 — 267. Bancroft's U.
S., v. 1, 41—59. Williams' Florida, 152—170. Albert Gallatin's
Br- n oTvrfa of the Indian Tribes. 83—120.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 219
from Tampa Bay, on the 1st of June, 1539. He pro-
ceeded in a Northeast direction. His disposition was,
as much as possible, to conciliate the natives. But he
soon found them true to the spirit they exhibit to this
day. They impeded and harassed his march, by open
and latent hostilities. Fortunately, he found, in one
of the provinces near Tampa, a Spaniard, by name
Juan Ortiz, who had been left upon the coast by Nar-
vaez, eleven years previously, and who had been re-
tained as a captive by one of the Caciques, or Chiefs.
He had learned the language of the natives, and was
of great service to De Soto, as an interpreter, through-
out his after wanderings.
For several months, occasionally resting, the Span-
iards pursued the course they had first taken. Their
route must have been very nearly parallel with the
present road from Tampa to Fort King, and not far
from it. They found the country intersected by in-
numerable and extensive morasses and hammocks.
Through these they fought their way, with great diffi-
culties and losses. They passed several large and
swollen streams. These were the Hillsboro', the
Withlacoochee, and the Suwannee. De Soto, finding
it impossible to conciliate the inhabitants, commenced
a war of devastation. He destroyed their fields, and
bnrned many of their towns, which were very large ;
some of them containing several hundred houses. The
natives never asked for quarter, but fought to the last
gasp. After proceeding as far North as the present
Southern boundary of Georgia, De Soto was induced
to direr; t his course to the West, to a province called
220 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
Apalachee, by the natives. Here he expected to find
large quantities of provisions and gold. In the latter
exjjectation he was disappointed ; but he found the
country abounding in food of eveiy description, for his
men and horses. It was the most populous and
wealthy province he had yet entered. It was situated
upon what is now known as Apalachee Bay, or the
Bay of St. Marks. Here De Soto determined to pass
the winter, as that season had already set in. He ac-
cordingly fortified himself, and remained until the
Spring of the ensuing year. During that time numer-
ous exploring parties were sent out ; one of which dis-
covered Ochuse, the harbor of Pensacola. A brigatine
was also constructed, and sent to Cuba, with instruc-
tions to return with supplies, the ensuing year, to the
harbor of Ochuse.
On the 3d of March, 1540, De Soto broke up his
winter cantonment at Apalachee, and proceeded, in a
Northeast direction, towards a province, at a great
distance, called Cofachiqui, in which he was informed
by several captives, that there was a large abundance
of gold, silver, pearls and precious gems. These were
the great objects of the Spaniards ; and they accord-
ingly pursued their march with much enthusiasm, con-
tinually battling with the natives, and burning their
towns. They passed up the banks of the Flint Kiver ;*
* We give the modern names of these places ; as they can only be
learned from the descriptions of the narrators. The names as used
by the Spaniards and natives, furnish but little clue to the route ;
that of Achise, or Ochis, a village, is to this day the Muscogee
name of the Ocmulgee River
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 221
crossed it in Baker County, in Georgia ; passed near
the present sites of Macon and Milledgeville, crossing
the Ocmulgee and Oconee rivers ; and, after numerous
hardships and perils, finally arrived at the province of
Cofachiqui, which was situated in the fork of two large
rivers. These were most probably the Broad and
Savannah Rivers;*
Great was the disappointment, however, of the
Spaniards, upon their arrival at Cofachiqui, in not
finding the vaunted treasures, for which they had pur-
sued their lengthy and perilous march. The " yellow
metal," of which they had heard so much, proved to be
only a worthless copper ore ; and although they found
immense quantities of very valuable pearls, yet these
little repaid their disappointment. After a long sojourn
in this province, for the purpose of recruiting the health
and strength of his forces, De Soto, on the third of May,
set out in search of other territories, which he hoped
would better gratify his cupidity and ambition. The
direction of his march was now to the Northwest, to
a province called Cosa, said to be at the distance of
twelve days' journey. During the first five days, they
passed over the termination of the Apalachian moun-
tains, in Habersham county, in Georgia ; and through
a barren and miserable province called by the natives
Chalaque. This is the actual name now used by the
Cherokee Indians to designate their country. The na-
* Williams, in his History of Florida, locates Cofachiqui (or Cata-
fachiqui, as he calls it,) upon the head waters of the Chattahoochee
River, (p. 160.) The statement in the text is thought to be more
correct.
222 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
tives were a puny, pacific race, and nearly naked. They
subsisted principally on herbs, roots, and a species of
wild hen, which abounded in such quantities, that the
inhabitants brought De Soto, seven hundred, which
they had killed with bows and arrows. After several
days' march through a more fertile country, and in a
western direction, the army reached a small town called
Caxasauga,* upon the banks of a river, along which
the Spaniards had marched for several days. Pursuing
their route for five days more through a desert country,
on the 25th of June, they came in sight of a village
called Chiaha. f This is the first point the Spaniards
reached within the territory that is now the State of
Alabama.
The village of Chiaha is said to have been situated
upon the upper end of an island, about fifteen miles
in length. There is no such island now in the Coosa.
It is probable that the Spaniards either mistook the
peninsula formed by the junction of two rivers, (the
Coosa and Chattooga,) for an island, or that those
two rivers were originally united, so as to form an is-
land near their present confluence. We have heard
this latter supposition asserted by persons well ac-
quainted with the country. There can be little doubt
that Chiaha was situated but a short distance above
* This is now the name of a small river, which falls into the Eesta-
nolla, at New Echota. The river referred to is no doubt the Etowah,
a branch of the Coosa.
* Called by De Vega, Ichiaha. There is now a stream in Talladega
County, called Chiaha, or Potato Creek. It runs into the Chocklocko,
a branch of the Coosa.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 223
the junction of the Coosa and Chattooga rivers. Here
De Soto remained for several days ; making diligent
enquiry for the precious metals. He was informed
that there were metals of a yellow color, found in a
province about thirty miles to the northward. He
accordingly despatched two soldiers to examine the
country. They returned, in ten days, with the infor-
mation, that it was a barren, mountainous region, * in
which no metals, but a fine kind of copper, could be
found. While in Chiaha, the Spaniards were pre-
sented by the natives with large quantities of pearls,
many of which were as large as filberts. These the
natives obtained from a species of oyster, f found in
the river, which they opened by the aid of fire. De
Soto left Chiaha, on the 2d of July, and at sunset,
came in sight of a village called Acoste, situated on
the Southwestern extremity of the island. He en-
camped his army within a bow-shot of the village, and
proceeded with eight men to visit the Cacique or Chief.
He was a bold warrior, and met De Soto, at the head of
fifteen hundred of his braves, drawn up in battle array,
painted, plumed and armed. He received De Soto
with much courtesy. While they were in conversa-
tion, some of the Spaniards commenced pillaging the
houses of the Indians ; who, greatly exasperated, fell
upon them with their clubs. De Soto perceiving the
peril of his situation, with his characteristic intrepidity
* This was probably among the Lookout Mountains, in Cherokee
County, Alabama.
t Probably the muscle, which is said sometimes to contain fine
pej.rK
224 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
and presence of mind, immediately seized a club, and
commenced beating bis own soldiers. Tbe disturbance
was soon quelled — tbe conduct of De Soto convincing
tbe Indians of bis amicable intentions. The Cacique
was then persuaded to visit the encampment, which be
bad no sooner reached, than he was made prisoner.
The next day, the Indians exhibiting every indication
of peace, the Cacique was liberated ; and De Soto,
crossing to the east bank of the Coosa river, on rafts
and in canoes, proceeded on his march to the South, —
his object being to reach the Bay of Ochuse, or Pensa-
cola, where he expected reinforcements and supplies.
For twenty-four days, the army slowly pursued its
course, (occasionally stopping for several days,) through
a populous and fertile province, called Cosa.* The
inhabitants were invariably friendly and hospitable.
On tbe approach of De Soto to the principal town,
called also Cosa, he was met by the Cacique, borne in
a litter upon the shoulders of four servants, and fol-
lowed by a train of one thousand warriors, marshaled
into companies, and gorgeously arrayed. He was a
young man of fine person, and noble countenance.
Upon his head he wore a diadem of brilliant feathers,
and from his shoulders hung a mantle of martin skins,
decorated with large pearls. The villagef was situ-
ated upon the east bank of a noble river ; and con-
* This embraced -the present Counties of Benton, Talladega, Coosa,
and Tallapoosa.
t McCullough in his Researches, page 525, says this is the village
called in the maps '•'• Old Coosa," in latitude 33° 30'.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 225
tained five hundred sjoacious houses. It was well
stored with provisions ; such as maize, pumpkins,
beans, plums and grapes. De Soto remained at this
place, until the 20th of August, and then departed,
taking with him, the Cacique, and a large number of
his warriors to bear his baggage. They passed through
villages, called Tallimuchasse, Ulliballi, and Toasi,
and arrived at a town called Tallise* on the 18th of
September. This was an important Indian post,
strongly fortified by pallisades erected upon high em-
bankments of earth. It was situated in the bend of a
rapid river, which surrounded it on three sides.
At Tallise, which was the Southern boundary of
Cosa, De Soto was met by an ambassador from the
Cacique of the neighboring province, called Tasca-
LUZA.f This was the name of the chieftain as well as
of his kingdom. He was represented as the most
powerful of all the Caciques of the country. His
fame reached De Soto, long before he approached his
territories ; which included immense regions west and
south of Cosa. The ambassador was the son of the
Cacique, and came attended by a large train of war-
* There is no doubt that this town was situated in the elbow of the
Tallapoosa river, near the present town of Tallasse, in Tallapoosa
County. The same name has always been applied to the spot by the
Indians ; and a tribe of the Creeks was also known by the same ap-
pellation.
f This name is a pure Choctaw compound- word, from Tasca or
Tusca, warrior, and Lusa or Loosa, black. It, with several other
words, proves that the Indians mentioned in the text, were of the
same tribe as the present Choctaws.
226 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
riors. He was of noble and imposing appearance ;
taller than any Spaniard or Indian in the army ; " as
symmetrical and graceful as Apollo ;" and of proud
and princely demeanor. His mission was one of peace ;
and he invited De Soto, in the name of his father, to
visit his residence. De Soto accordingly crossed the
Tallapoosa river in canoes, and on rafts, and marching
Southwest, on the third clay, arrived at a small village
to which Tuscaluza had advanced to meet him. The
Chieftain was posted on the crest of a hill, com-
manding a fine view of the adjacent country. He was
seated upon a rude throne, and surrounded by a hun-
dred of his principal warriors, decorated with gay
plumes and mantles. By his side stood a standard-
bearer, sustaining a banner or target of dressed deer-
skin, " quartered with black and white, having a run-
die in the midst, and set on a small staff." This was
the only military standard the Spaniards saw in their
wanderings.
Tuscaluza, like his son, was of noble appearance,
and of gigantic proportions, being a foot and a half
taller than any of his warriors. He was said to pos-
sess Herculean strength. His countenance indicated
great ferocity and pride of spirit. Upon none of the
Spaniards did he bestow the least notice, save De Soto.
He retained that imperturbable sternness and gravity
so characteristic of " the Stoic of the woods ;" until
the Governor approached, and then advancing a few
paces, received him with much dignity and grace.
In company with the Cacique, De Soto proceeded
on his march, towards one of the principal villages of
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 227
the province, called Tuscaluza. He reached it after
three days' journey, of twelve miles each. It was
situated on a peninsula, formed by a rapid and power-
ful river, said, by the Indians, to be the same that
passed by Tallise.* The day after their arrival the
Spaniards, with the Cacique, crossed the river upon
rafts, and proceeded on their march, towards a large
town called MAUViLLE.f The country, through which
they passed, was very populous and fertile, and on the
evening of the third day's march, they arrived within
a league of the town, and encamped for the night.
Tuscaluza immediately despatched one of his attend-
ants to the town, for the purpose, he said, of causing
appropriate arrangements to be made for the reception
of the army. Early next morning, De Soto sent two
confidential soldiers ahead, to observe the movements
of the Indians, and to await his arrival. He then
mustered an hundred horse and as many foot, as a
vanguard, and proceeded with the Cacique, who was
retained as a kind of hostage, to the village. The re-
mainder of the army was instructed to follow as speed-
ily as possible, under the command of Luis de Mos-
cozo, the camp-master general.
De Soto arrived at Mauville, early on the morning
* This was the Alabama : and it is believed that Tuscaluza was
situated near Evans' Landing in Wilcox County. McCullough says,
" there is a ford on the Alabama, about sixty leagues above its con-
fluence with the Tombckbee, which the Choctaws call Tascaloussas.
Here the Army may have crossed." — Researches, page 525.
t This town is supposed to have stood on the north bank of the
Alabama river, in Clarke County. The first Spanish settlers of Ala-
bama found the name, Mauville, applied by the natives to the present
228 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
of the 18th of October. It was the capital of the
kingdom of Tuscaluza ; and was situated on the north
"bank of a magnificent river. It was completely en-
circled by a high wall formed of huge trunks of trees,
placed in the ground, side by side, and fastened to-
gether by large vines. There were but two entrances
to the town, one at the east and the other at the west.
The wall was surmounted by numerous towers, and
pierced at close intervals with port-holes, from which
arrows might be discharged at any enemy. There were
but eighty houses in the village, but they were of im-
mense size, capable of containing one thousand persons
each. They were built in the modern Indian style of
council-houses, and were erected around a square in
the centre of the village. De Soto had no sooner arrived
in the village, than he was informed by his spies, that
the Indians had collected in immense numbers, and
with very hostile a23pearances. The spies' computed
the number of warriors in the village, at more than ten
thousand ; all well armed. The women and children
were all removed. These facts convinced De Soto, that
the Indians entertained hostile and treacherous inten-
tions. He secretly ordered his men to hold themselves
in readiness, and despatched a messenger to Moscozo,
to hurry on with the residue of the army. Tuscaluza
river and bay of Mobile. It was. in consequence, given by the Span-
iards and French, to the natives themselves ; whom they called Mau-
rille or Mobile Indians. The two words are pronounced the same in
the Spanish language ; the letters v and b being often used indiffer-
ently for each other. See Du Pratz, who. most generally, observes
the former orthography. The word is spelt Mavila by Biedma, and
Manilla by the Portugesp.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 229
had, in the mean time, entered one of the houses. He
was sent for, and refused to return. An altercation
took place between the messenger and an Indian chief-
tain, and the warrior was slain. The Indians now
became frantic. The warhoop rang through the vil-
lage. From every dwelling immense hordes of savages
poured forth, and rushed upon the Spaniards, with the
fury of demons. De Soto rallied his forces, and, through
desperate carnage, cut his way out of the city. He
was pursued by the Indians, who seized and slew some
of his horses, that had been tethered outside of the
walls. Fortunately at this moment the main body of
the forces under Moscozo came up, and the savages were
repulsed, and driven into the city. They had seized,
however, the baggage and effects of the army, and carried
them with them in their retreat. The Spaniards made
a desperate effort to storm the walls, but were assailed
with such showers of arrows and stones, from the towers
and loop-holes, as to be compelled to retreat. The In-
dians again sallied from the ramparts, and fought like
maddened tigers. Nothing but the superior armor of
the Spaniards saved them from total annihilation. At
length, by the aid of their battle-axes, they hewed open
the gates and forced their way into the village. The
battle now became more desperate and bloody. Hand
to hand the steel-clad footmen fought with the naked
natives. The war-club and the bow were feeble
weapons in comparison with the heavy claymore and
tried battle-axe. At the same time the sturdy cava-
liers made frightful lanes through the ranks of the sav-
ages. Upon their trained horses they charged upon
230 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
the confused hordes, trampling and hewing them down,
and pursuing them from street to street. The Indians
at length took refuge in their houses. But their
hoped-for safety proved their entire destruction. In a
moment their dwellings were wrapped in fire. Many
of them continued to fight from the summits of their
houses, till they fell in, and perished in the flames.
The others rushed forth with dreadful yells, only to
meet a no less certain doom from the infuriated Span-
iards. Not one of them asked, or would accept of
quarter. De Soto fought at the head of his troops, and
was everywhere in the thickest of the fight. The
Chieftain, Tuscaluza, perished in the flames of his
dwelling — dying like a warrior; and leaving a name
which deserves to be held in perpetual reverence, as that
of a hero, and patriot.
The battle lasted for nine hours. As the sun set,
his yellow rays fell upon the smoking ruins of the vil-
lage ; its houses all consumed ; its walls levelled with
the ground. The streets and the adjacent plains were
covered with the corpses of the dead. More than five
thousand Indians were slain ; including those who
perished in the flames. The Spanish loss was eighty-
two killed. Nearly every soldier in the army was
wounded, — many of them very severely. They alsojtast
forty-two horses, and all their baggage, and effects.
Thus terminated the most desperate and bloody Indian
battle, that ever occurred on the soil of the United
States.*
*The two narratives of this expedition vary in their estimates of the
number of killed and wounded. De Vega says the Spaniards had
THE PILGRIMAGE OE DE SOTO. 231
The condition of the Spaniards, after the battle of
Mauville, was most deplorable. So great were their
sufferings, that they became heartily sick of their en-
terprise, and desirous of proceeding at once to the Bay
of Ochuse, or Pensacola, which they were informed,
was distant about one hundred miles. The resolute
cupidity and stubborn ]3ride of De Soto would however
yield to no persuasion, until he had accomplished the
objects for which he had set out in the campaign. He,
therefore, with the remnant of his army, — now reduced
to little more than three-fourths its original number, —
on the 18th of November, turned his steps to the north.
He marched for five days (of eighteen miles each)
through a fertile but uninhabited country, when he
arrived at a village called Cabusto, in the province of
Pafallaya. It was situated on a wide and deep river,
with high banks.* TKe inhabitants at first exhibited
hostile designs, but ultimately fled across the river in
their canoes, taking their property and families with
them. Here their main force of warriors, " to the
number of eight thousand," was posted to dispute the
passage. They were encamped for two leagues along
the opposite bank. The Spaniards spent twelve days
in constructing boats, and then passed across the river.
eighty-two killed; the Indians eleven thousand. The Portugese
account gives eighteen Spaniards killed, and one hundred and fifty
wounded : the loss of Indians, twenty-five hundred. We have adopted
a medium number, as, probably, the most correct.
*This was the Black Warrior River ; and it is probable that Cabusto
was near the present site of Erie, in Greene County.
232 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
The Indians, after some severe skirmishing, fled before
the army, which proceeded on its march.
After five days' march, through a level and fertile
country, interspersed with small hamlets, in which
quantities of maize and dried pulse were found, the
Sj)aniards arrived at another river,* where the Indians
were collected to dispute the passage. Their courage
however soon evaporated, and the army crossed with-
out opposition. The Spaniards were now in a province
called Chicaza, and, in a few days, arrived at the
principal town, of the same name. On each side of
the town flowed a small stream, bordered by groves of
walnut and oak-trees. It being now the middle of
December, De Soto determined to spend the winter at
this place, and accordingly took possession of the
village. The Indians were enraged, but remained
quiet — " nursing their wrath *to keep it warm." At
length, one dark and windy night, when the encamp-
ment was shrouded in sleep, they deceived the senti-
nels and set fire to the village. And now ensued a
conflict and conflagration, second only to that of
Mauville. Many of the Spaniards were burned to
death ; others were slain. They succeeded however
in repulsing the savages, after a desperate battle of
several hours. The loss of their dwellings caused them
to remove in a few days to a more favorable position,
which they called Chicacilla. On the first of April
the army proceeded to the north. They soon came to
* The Tombecbee.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF DE SOTO. 233
a powerful fortress called Alibamo,* situated upon
the bank of a small but rapid river, which after much
hard fighting and carnage, they stormed and took.
Marching northwest for several days, they came to
the largest and most magnificent river they had ever
seen. They consequently called it the Rio Grande.
Its Indian name was Chicagua. It was the Missis-
sippi River, and the Spaniards were the first Europeans,
who beheld the Mighty Monarch of Rivers. They
crossed it near the lowest Chickasaw Bluff, not far
from the thirty-fifth parallel of latitude.
Beyond this point, it does not fall within our
province, to trace the nomadic march of De Soto.
Suffice it to say, that he continued his wanderings, for
near twelve months, through the vast regions south
west of the Missouri ; meeting with many strange and
almost incredible adventures ; suffering greatly from
his conflicts with the natives, and disappointed in all
his endeavors to discover the precious metals. He
proceeded as far west as the foot of the Rocky Mount-
ains. ' At length, worn out by fatigue, and almost
broken hearted, he returned to the Mississippi. Here,
while making preparations to depart from the country,
he was seized by a malignant fever, and on the 21st
of May, 1542, died ; universally lamented by his fol-
lowers. He was buried in the channel of the Missis-
sippi river ; receiving, like Attila, a grave commen-
* This is no doubt the original of the word Alabama. — which is said
to signify, in the Muscogee tongue — " Here we rest.'' The river on
which the fort was situated, is thought to be the Yazoo.
234 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
surate with his career. The surviving Spaniards made
an attempt under Luis de Moscoso, whom De Soto had
appointed his successor, to reach Mexico. They were
foiled in all their efforts, by their ignorance of the
country, and after six months' arduous wandering,
were forced to return to the Mississippi. Upon it
they embarked in seven rude brigantines — descended
to its mouth, — proceeded along the coast, — and, after
numerous perils, and sufferings, reached the Spanish
settlement of Panuco, on the 10th of September,
1543, — just four years and two months after their
landing at Tampa Bay. Their number was reduced
to three hundred and eleven men, in an almost naked
and famished condition ; their horses were all lost ;
and, as for wealth and fame, they retained not even
its shadow.
With this wild and romantic Expedition, we have
said that the History of Alabama begins. It is how-
ever an isolated chapter in her annals. The dark cur-
tain that covered her territory was suddenly lifted, — a
brilliant but bloody panorama j^assed across the
stage, — and then all was shrouded in primeval dark-
ness. A sufficient glimpse was however caught, to
show the condition and character of the natives, and
to furnish some clue, when taken in connection wi'h
other information, by which to solve many enigmati-
cal circumstances connected with their origin, customs,
and history.
THE MASSACRE AT EORT MIMS;
With a Historical Sketch of the First White
Settlements in Alabama, the Battle of
Burnt Corn, and the other Events that led
to the Creek War of 1813-14.
The Muse of History has seldom been called to shed
her tears over a more shocking and sanguinary event
than the massacre at Fort Mims, on the Tensaw branch
of the Alabama river, in the summer of 1813. For
the number of its victims and the hideousness of its
details, it was the most frightful tragedy ever enacted
on the soil of our country, and forms the most luridly
illuminated page in backwoods annals. At the time
of its occurrence, it spread a thrill of horror through
the Union ; and the excited fancies of the timid and
exposed, along the frontiers, scarcely exaggerated the
cruelties which had actually been perpetrated.
It is strange that there is no compendious and faith-
ful narrative of this catastrophe.'-' The only accounts
* Pickett's £: History of Alabama" lias remove! this reproach, since
this sketch was written — in 1844.
236 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
of it are meagre and superficial, and often erroneous
and contradictory. The remarkable character of the
incidents, and their influential bearing upon the
destiny of the Indians, and the early history of Ala-
bama, demand that this should not continue to be the
case. I shall therefore attempt to draw aside the
curtain that conceals this occurrence, and let it pass,
in bloody panorama, before the eye of the reader.
It is necessary in advance, to glance at the condition
of the settlements in the interior of our territory ; and
to take a brief historical retrospect of their origin and
progress.
The French, as early as 1699, had settled a colony
near Mobile, and, in a few years, extended military and
trading establishments along the waters of the Alabama
and Tombeckbee. One of these, called Fort Toulouse,
was near the junction of the Coosa and Tallapoosa,
Upon the recent site of Fort Jackson ; another, the re-
mains of which were not long since visible, was at the
mouth of the Cahawba ; and a third, called Fort Con-
federaicon, overlooked the Tombeckbee, at what is now
Jones' Bluff, in Sumter County. Fort St. Phillipe also
stood at Twenty-One Mile Bluff, on the Alabama.
The purpose of these posts was mainly mercantile;
though priests were present to inculcate Christianity,
and soldiers to enforce submission. The sword diffused
its spirit more effectually than the cross. The native
tribes were kept in constant warfare with each other,
or with their white neighbours, and yielded but few
and trivial commodities for commercial intercourse.
The French settlements were consequently never pros-
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 237
perous. Their entire population scarcely ever exceeded
two thousand persons ; and, in 1763, they abandoned
the country, which passed successively into the hands
of Great Britain and Spain. These two nations made,
by treaties with the natives, some slight acquisitions of
soil in the interior, and, in 1788, the population of the
city of Mobile, then belonging to Spain, had increased
to 1468. Four years after, there was a strong Spanish
post on the Tensaw, under the command of Deyveral,
which instigated the Indians to hostilities against the
United States. The other settlements were few and
weak ; and, in a few years, the Spanish authority faded
entirely from the interior.
Near the close of the last century, a considerable num-
ber of emigrants had found their way from the States
of the Union, to the vicinity of Natchez, and to the
rich lands upon the Tombeckbee and the Tensaw, which
had been ceded as we have said, by the Indians to the
British and Spanish governments, and of which our
own was now the proprietary. This induced Congress
to establish, by enactment of April 7th, 1798, the
" Mississippi Territory." It included all the country
between the Chatahoochee on the east, the Mississippi
on the west, the 31st line of latitude on the south,
and a parallel line drawn from the mouth of the Yazoo
to the Chatahoochee, on the north. Winthrop Sar-
gent, a native of New England, was appointed Gov-
ernor, by President Adams. On the 4th of June,
1800, he, by proclamation, established "Washington
County," including the settlements on the Tensaw and
the Tombeckbee. In the next year, the population of
238 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
these settlements was estimated at 500 whites and 250
blacks, of all ages and sexes, — " thinly scattered along
the western banks of the Mobile and Tombigby, for
more than seventy miles, and extending nearly twenty-
five miles upon the eastern borders of the Mobile and
Alabama."*
This population continued to increase in number
and extent, notwithstanding the opposition of the
Choctaws, who claimed the land west of the Torn-
beckbee and its tributaries, and of the Creeks, who
asserted dominion east of those waters. A treaty was
however effected in 1802, by which the Choctaws
vielded all their land south of a line from Hatcha-
tigby Bluff on the Tombeckbee, west to the Choctaw-
hatchee. The increase of population caused the estab-
lishment, of two new counties : Baldwin, north of
Washington ; and Clarke, embracing the fork of the
Alabama and Tombeckbee. Several villages sprang,
at least nominally, into existence. The territorial
legislature incorporated St. Stephens, Rodney, Wake-
field, and Dumfries. The three last perished "in
the bud '" St. Stephens was then the seat of the U. S.
factory or trading-house under the charge of George
S. Gaines, and became subsequently the Capitol of
our own State. In 1804, the jurisdiction of the Fed-
eral courts w T as extended over the " Washington
District," and Henry Toulmin, of St. Stephens, was
appointed Judge.
The population of these settlements was principally
* American State Papers, vol. v., p-. 659.
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 239
confined to the western side of the Tombeckbee ;
though there were some seven or eight hundred inhabi-
tants resident upon the Tensaw and the Alabama, and
in the angle made by the latter stream with its western
tributary. The boundary with the Creek or Muscogee
Indians was not definitely settled. The pioneers claimed
so much of the land east of the Tombeckbee as had once
belonged to the Choctaws. This embraced very nearly
all of the present County of Clarke, and the southern
borders of the Alabama, as high up as Claiborne.
But the contiguous Muscogee tribe, the Alabamas,
resisted this claim, and complained of the encroach-
ments of the whites. At the treaty at Fort Wilkinson
in 1802, the Mad Wolf said " the people of Tombigby
have put over their cattle in the fork, on the Alabama
hunting grounds, and have gone a great way on our
lands. I want them put back. We all know they
are Americans/' Other chiefs reiterated complaints,
and threatened to remove the intruders by force.* If
there were grounds for such complaints thus early, it
may well be believed that they greatly increased in the
course of ten years. The only thing that reconciled
the Indians to the inroads of the settlers, was the
facility afforded for traffic. The spirit of trade was
strong with these simple people ; and, in 1809, their
supplies of furs, peltries, and other produce, to the
factory at St. Stephens, exceeded in value seven thou-
sand dollars.
Mobile and the territory between the Perdido and
*Am. State Papers, v. G75.
240 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
the Mississippi, south of latitude 31°, though pur-
chased by the United States, in 1803, as a part of
Louisiana, was fraudulently held by Spain, as a por-
tion of West Florida, until 1813. The ingenuity of
Talleyrand had, by equivocal phraseology, given a color
to this claim ; but at length our government, wearied
of juggling pretences, determined, like Brennus, to
throw her sword into the scale. This was authorized
by a secret Act of Congress, and, on the thirteenth
of August, 1813, General Wilkinson forcibly took pos-
session of Mobile, and placed a garrison in Fort Char-
lotte, formerly Fort Conde. A convenient avenue
for commerce was thus opened to the interior settle-
ments, it having been previously much restricted by
the Spanish authorities at Mobile. Before this, these
settlements were completely insulated. They were cut
off from the white inhabitants at Natchez and in its
vicinity, by a strip of Choctaw territory. To the
east, the Muscogees dwelt as far as the Oakmulgee,
and the nearest settlements to the north were in the
bend of the Tennessee.
The character of the settlers upon the Tombeckbee,
Tensaw, and Alabama, can be inferred from the cir-
cumstances which surrounded them. It is not the
timid, the weak, or the luxury-loving, who make their
homes in the deep wilderness and among savage tribes.
The restless spirit in search of adventure ; the indus-
trious laborer anxious to repair, upon new soil and
under more propitious circumstances, the fortune which
had become dilapidated in his old home ; the hardy
hunter, whose chief delight was to pursue the bear, the
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 241
beaver, or the deer ; the pedlar in the wares suited to
the simple taste of the children of the woods ; the
refugee, for whatever motive of crime, injustice, or
misanthrophy, from the restrictions and associations of
better regulated communities ; these, and such as these,
are always the constituents of our frontier settlements,
and composed, in the main, the population we are now
attempting to describe. They were emigrants princi-
pally from the States of South Carolina, Georgia, Vir-
ginia, and Tennessee. A small admixture of French
and Spaniards from Mobile, chiefly Creoles of the
country, produced singular contrasts among this motley
population. The names of a few of the most promi-
nent families who had emigrated to these remote
regions, from the American States, are preserved by
their descendants, still in the same vicinage, or by
tradition. We may enumerate the following : Upon
the Tensaw, — the Halls, the Byrnes', the Linders, the
Steadhams, the Hollingers, the Easlies, and the Gil-
creasts : Upon the Tombeckbee, — the Bates', the
McGrews, the Powells, the Calliers, the Danbys, the
Lawrences, the Moungers, the Kimbills, .the Barnetts,
the Talleys, the Bakers, the Hockets, the Freelands,
and the Wheats.'*' These families, and others of
similar origin, were scattered over the country, at dis-
tant intervals, generally engaged in agricultural pur-
suits, and in hunting the valuable game that everywhere
abounded.
It is not to be understood, from the general sketch-
* See Pickett's History of Alabama.
242 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
ing we have given, that the moral condition of these
backwoods settlements, during the period we have
in view, was either chaotic or debased. There were
many men of integrity and intelligence, and many
families of social worth, among the inhabitants. The
laws of the territory were strictly oberved ; and even
an academy "for promoting morality and virtue"
among the young, was located by charter, as " Wash-
ington Academy," at the town of Kodney, then the
Court House of Washington County.* But the chief
characteristics of these people were the sterner virtues.
They were brave, industrious, patient, generous and
persevering ; and well qualified, both in moral and
physical capacities, to endure the hardships and dan-
gers of their insulated position. These capacities were
soon called into requisition and tested to their utmost.
We now propose to examine the causes which led to
hostilities upon the part of the Muscogee, or Creek In-
dians, in 1813, and produced the dreadful calamity
that befell the refugees at Fort Minis.
In the Spring of 1812, Tecumseh, in furtherance of
his plan of uniting all the aboriginal tribes in a con-
federacy against the Americans, visited the Muscogee
Indians. By artful operation upon their superstitions,
he succeeded in enlisting the greater part of the na-
tion, particularly the towns on the Alabama waters,
in favor of his schemes. At Tuckabatchee, on the
Tallapoosa, he addressed the National Council. Sus-
pecting treachery upon the part of the principal Chief,
♦Turner's Digest of Miss. Stats., 1816, p. 55.
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 243
the Big Warrior, Tecumseli, it is said, told the Coun-
cil that, when he returned home, he would stamp his
foot upon the ground, and shake down all the houses
in Tuckabatchee. In a few weeks the great earth-
quakes of that year occurred, and demolished the vil-
lage. The Indians immediately cried out " Tecumseli
has arrived at home 1" This, and similar circumstances
inflamed the minds of the Indians ; prophets and
witches sprang up in every town ; and it was impossi-
ble to restrain hostilities. Murders were committed in
the nation, and upon the frontiers. A delegation, un-
der the command of the Little Warrior, returning from
a visit to Tecumseli, butchered several families in Ten-
nessee, and took prisoner a Mrs. Crawley, u a modest,
well-disposed woman," whom they carried to " a very
old village," at the falls of the Black Warrior. Here
it was determined to put her to death, and her grave
was dug ; but the squaw, in whose custody she was,
informed her of the design, and the night before her
intended execution, she escaped. " The chief man of the
village was^ disposed to be peaceable, and bought her
after her escape, and sent out several of his young men
to hunt for her, by whom she was found, after two or
three days, half-starved and half-naked."* In the
meantime George S. Gaines, of St. Stephens, had
heard of her captivity, and benevolently despatched
Tandy Walker to her relief, by whom she was ran-
somed, and taken to that place, whence she returned
to her friends in Tennessee.
* Am. State Papers, v. 814.
244 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
The Big Warrior, and other friendly chiefs at-
tempted to punish the perpetrators of these hostilities ;
and several were put to death. This produced the
most violent enmities among the Indians themselves.
Meanwhile, the inhabitants upon the Tombeekbee and
the Tensaw were in a state of terrible suspense and
alarm. Abandoning their fields and residences, they
fortified themselves in hastilv constructed stockades ;
and watched the movements of the enemy. To in-
crease their apprehensions, it became certain that
British emissaries, aided by the Spanish authorities at
Pensacola, were urging the Indians to hostility, and
supplying them ' with arms and ammunition. Word
was brought that a large party of warriors, under the
command of Peter McQueen, an influential half-breed
chief, who resided at Tuckaba tehee, on the Tallapoosa,
had, on their way to Pensacola for supplies, burnt the
house of Joseph Cornells, the Government Interpreter,
who had married a white woman, and murdered
several of his family. It was determined to intercept
this party, upon their return. A force, amounting to
about three hundred persons, including white militia,
mixed-breeds, and friendly Indians, was soon collected
and organized under the command of Colonel James
Caller, who was mainly instrumental in getting up
these expeditions. William McGrew was chosen
Lieutenant Colonel, and Zackariah Philips and Jour-
dan, Majors. John Wood was appointed aid-de-camp.
Among the Captains, were Samuel Dale, Benjamin S.
Smoot, David Cartwright, and Bailey Heard. The
friendly Creeks were headed by Dixon Bailey and
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 245
David Tait, educated and gallant half-bloods. Of
the Lieutenants, Patrick May, Girarcl W. Creagh, and
William Bradberry are worthy of mention. The
troops were all mounted gun-men, generally with their
favorite rifles. They crossed the Alabama River at
Sizemore/s ferry, some distance below Claiborne, and,
marching rapidly to the southeast, intercepted Mc-
Queen's command, numbering about three hundred
and fifty warriors, at a ford upon Burnt Corn Creek,
now in Conecuh County, " where the old furrow-path
turned off to Pensacola." The returning party had,
in their possession, a large number of arms, and " one
hundred horse-loads of ammunition," which they had
received from their British and Spanish friends. They
were halted in a hill-engirdled bend of the creek, near
a large spring, engaged in cooking dinner, with their
pack-ponies grazing around. Caller's troops ap-
proached so cautiously, that the main body dismounted
behind the hill, poured in a destructive fire, and
charged, before the Indians had fairly risen from the
ground. They were driven in the wildest fright and
confusion across the stream, into a large swamp
or reed-brake, and their horses, with their valuable
loads, were at once seized by their assailants, who
were greedy for pillage. This led to a disastrous re-
verse. The red-men rallied in the swamp, opened a
heavy fire, and charged back with their tomahawks
and war clubs, amid the fiercest cries for vengeance.
Caller, seeing the confused and exposed condition of
his men, ordered a retreat to their horses, but this
produced a panic, and a general route ensued. In
246 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
vain did Caller, Dale, Bailey and Smoot make des-
perate efforts, by rallying small parties, to turn the
battle. A series of charges and retreats, irregular
skirmishes and frequent close and violent encounters
of individuals, and scattered squads, took place. Dale,
Creagh and Bradberry were severely wounded, and, af-
ter a helter-skelter contest of three hours, the coming
on of night left the tawny warriors of McQueen vic-
tors of the field, though they paid most dearly for their
success, many of them being slain, and most of their
ammunition and supplies destroyed or earned off, with
their horses, by their fugitive foes, who had but two
killed and fifteen wounded. The defeated troops fled
" fast and far," all that night, in scattered bands,
through the hills of Conecuh, in constant dread of pur-
suit. Colonel Caller and his Aid, Major Wood, es-
caping on foot, became lost in the wilderness, for two
weeks, and nearly perished from hunger.*
This engagement, which was denominated the Battle
of Burnt Corn, took place in July, 1813. It excited
the Indians to instant and general hostility. The
symbolic war-clubs, painted red, were at once dispatched
to all parts of the nation, and old chieftains and young
warriors responded to their call with as great alacrity
as ever the Highland clans rallied around the cross of
Clan Albin. Every friendly or hesitating warrior was
compelled to join with the hostiles, or to flee from the
nation. Weatherford, as will be seen, was thus forced
to take up the tomahawk, and, having once embarked
* Am. State Papers, v. 849, '51. — Lewis Sewall's Poems, (Mobile,
1833.)
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 247
in the contest, his masterly and imperious spirit could
hold no subordinate position. It was determined to
seek signal and summary revenge for the lives of those
slaughtered at Burnt Corn, and to commence at once
the general warfare of extermination against the whites.
For this purjoose a secret expedition against the Tom-
beckbee settlements was planned by Hillis-liadjo, or
Josiah Francis, and Sinquista, prophets ; and Peter
McQueen, HoboJwithlee Micco, Jumper, afterwards
celebrated in Florida, and Weatherford, war-chiefs.
The thirteen towns, — Alabama, Columa, Wewauka,
Ochebofa, Waukakoya, Hoithlewaula, Foosahatchee,
Ecunhutke, Savanogga, Muclausa, Hookcha-oochee,
Puckuntallahassee, and Pochusa-hatchee, furnished
warriors for the expedition. The towns of Oakfuskee,
Tallassee, and Autossee, " formed a front of observa-
tion," towards Coweta, on the Georgia border, to con-
ceal the movement, and keep in check the friendly
Indians.
The warriors enlisted were over a thousand in num-
ber. With this force, the hostile chiefs move ds teal thily
to the attack on Fort Mims. This fort was selected
because it was believed to contain the body of those
who had been engaged in the Battle of Burnt Corn.
Before we proceed to. narrate the particulars of this
attack, we will revert to the condition of the Settlers,
and the preparations they had made to meet the hos-
tilities of the Indians.
Immediately upon the return of the expedition from
Burnt Corn, the inhabitants took every measure in
their power to increase and strenghten their fortifica-
248 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
tions. Above the confluence of the rivers, in Clarke
County, several picket-posts, known as Forts White,
Easley, Sinquefield, and Class, were garrisoned by the
settlers from their vicinities, and white and half-breed
refugees from the nation. These posts were considered,
from their eastern position, as the most exposed of any,
and were guarded with the utmost vigilance. The
inhabitants west of the Tombeckbee felt fewer appre-
hensions of danger, but still sought protection at St.
Stephens and Fort Stoddard. In the Tensaw settle-
ment, the fears of the people were at first greatly ex-
cited. Though their residences were scattered for nearly
eighty miles along the Alabama and the Tensaw, yet
there was not a fortification, in the whole extent, which
could be relied on as a secure defence against savage
assault. To remedy this deficiency, Samuel Mims, an
old and. wealthy inhabitant, who had long traded with
the Indians, erected, with the assistance of his neigh-
bors, a stockade fortress around his residence, which
was four hundred yards from "Lake Tensaw/' a bay
or tributary of the Alabama, that extends eastward
one mile from the river. This was about two miles
southeast from the " Cut-Cff," and about sixty from
Mobile. The site of the fortress was in a level field or
" clearing," of six or eight acres, intersected by a small
branch or creek, which discharges itself into the Lake.
A thick growth of cane and some woods extended along
this stream, and between the fort and the lake. The
walls of the fortress, which were originally square, and
enclosed an acre of ground, were formed in the ordinary
picket-fashion of our frontiers, by the trunks of small
!
MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 249
pine trees, about fifteen feet in length, being planted in
a ditch about the enclosure, and fastened together at
the top by horizontal strips or braces of smaller tim-
ber. They were pierced, about breast-high, with port-
holes for rifles and muskets, but with no provision for
the use of artillery, as the garrison j)ossessed none. At
the southwest corner there was a rude block-house and
bastion. The enclosure contained, besides Mims' frame
dwelling and log out-houses, ten or twelve rude cabins
and shelters, erected by the refugees and soldiers.
There were two gates to the fortress, but the one on
the west was permanently closed. The eastern one
was eight feet wide, and formed of large and cumbrous
pieces of timber. Fifty feet inside of this gate, a line
of old pickets stood — the fort having been extended to
the east.
Such was Fort Mims, the main defence of the
settlers southeast of the Alabama ; and to it, upon the
approach of danger, they fled with their families.
The intestine hostilities also expelled the half-breeds
and other friendly warriors, from the nation, and they
took refuge with their wives and children in this newly
erected fortification. The number of occupants was,
consequently, very considerable ; but it was still farther
swelled bv the addition of sixteen men, under Lieuten-
ant Osborne, and three companies of Mississippi Volun-
teers, commanded respectively by Captains Middleton,
Jack, and Batchelor, — comprising one hundred and
seventy-five men, all under Major Daniel Beasley. The
other men in the fort capable of bearing arms, including
the friendlv half-breeds and Indians, were seventy in
250 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
number, commanded by Dixon Bailey, so distinguished
at Burnt Corn. The effective military force thus
amounted to two hundred and forty-five. Besides
these there were three hundred women and children,
making an aggregate of near five hundred and fifty
souls crowded into this narrow fortification.
At the first burst of alarm, the garrison in Fort
Mims were properly vigilant and cautious ; but they
soon became singularly inattentive to the defences of
the place. The officer in command seems to have
been a vain, rash, inexperienced, and over-confident
soldier, — though unflinchingly brave when in the
presence of the foe. In the latter part of August,
General Ferdinand L. Claiborne, commanding the
forces raised in Western Mississippi, visited the
post, cautioned its possessors against a surprise, and
advised the construction of two additional block
houses. These warnings he repeated by letter even
the day before the attack. But a strange fatuity
appears to have befallen the garrison. They were
satisfied that the Indians did not contemplate an
attack upon the fort, but were directing their hostili-
ties to the Georgia frontier. In vain did several of
the most experienced and cautious of the backwoods-
men give warning of impending danger : in vain even
did a hostile warrior, the very evening before, apj3rise
some of his relatives in the fortress, of the intended
attack : in vain did two negroes declare that they had
seen twenty warriors painted for battle, in the vicinity
of the fort : Major Beasley would listen to no remon-
strance, but steadily refused to keep the gate of the
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 251
fortress shut, and permitted the inmates to wander
unrestrained along; the banks of the Lake. He seemed
to have been actuated by a spirit of vain bravado and
criminal self-complacency. How forcibly does his
conduct remind us of the Roman adage, " whom the
gods intend to destroy, they first make mad!"
Such was the condition of things at Fort Mims, on
the morning of the 30th of August. The sun rose,
beautiful and with a dewy coolness, over the forests
of needle-leaved pines that extended off to the east,
and concealed beneath their high and shafted arcades,
the grimly-painted and fast-approaching warriors of
Weatherford and McQueen. In the fort all was con-
fidence and hilarity. The women and children were
scattered in idle groups around the block-houses, and
in front of their tents and sheds : " the men were seated
in two circles in the yard, talking what they would do
if Indians should come ;"* and Major Beasley, with a
party of his officers, was engaged in a game of cards,
and had just ordered a negro to be whipped for giving
a " false alarm ;" when, a little before noon, the sim-
ultaneous sounds of the rifle and war-hoop were heard,
and a large body of warriors was discovered within a
short distance of the fort, rushing for its entrance. A
few of them passed the gate before Beasley could rally
his men ; but he soon collected a sufficient force to
slay the intruders, and a bloody and doubtful contest
ensued for the mastery of the passage. Its narrowness
limited the number of the assailants, but they rushed
* Col. Hawkins.
252 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
desperately forward, and with their war-clubs, toma-
hawks and scalping-knives, grappled, hand to hand,
with the defenders. The carnage was terrible on both
sides. Major Beasley and his officers here almost re-
deemed their former criminal neglect. They resolutely
bore the brunt of the conflict ; and it is worthy of em-
phatic remark that every officer fell fighting at the
gate. Beasley was shot through the body, and died
like a hero, cheering his men. A Lieutenant fell from
the loss of blood, and was borne to a block-house by
two women, but, reviving from his faintness, he insisted
upon being carried back to the gate, which was done
by the same heroines, and he died by the side of his
companions. After half an hour's struggle, the gar-
rison succeeded in shutting the gate, which, singularly
enough, had remained open so long that its closure
was greatly impeded by sand and rubbish.
The party thus repelled were two hundred in num-
ber, and constituted but an advance body of the
Indians. The main force under Weatherford, eight
hundred strong, now came up, and the attack was
renewed, under the directions of that chief, with an
unremitting discharge of bullets and arrows on every
side of the fort. The garrison had been hurriedly
formed for the defence as follows : on the eastern
front, embracing the gate, Captain Middleton's com-
mand ; on the south, Captain Jack's ; on the west,
Lieutenant Bandon's, and on the north, Captain Dixon
Bailey's. The soldiers all fought with the utmost
t. o
■' operation. Even the women, seizing muskets and
i ifles, placed them;--' Ivo it the port-holes and heroically
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 253
returned the fire of the assailants. The policy of the
latter, however, was to carry the place by storm, and,
seizing the rails from some adjacent fences, they rushed
forward, stopped many of the port-holes, and com-
menced cutting down the pickets, with their axes.
They soon broke through the outer line of pickets on
the east, and then gained the mastery of most of the
port-holes of the inner one, and poured their fire into
the centre of the fort. The pickets now yielded at
several points on the other sides, and the savages in
overwhelming numbers rushed in among the defenders.
Such of these, as were not slain, took refuge in the
houses, and fought from the windows and through holes
forced through their roofs. But the Indians had, with
flaming arrows, at the outset, set these on fire, and
they were soon wrapped in a general conflagration.
The scene that ensued baffles description. Notwith-
standing their awful position, the besieged continued
to fire their guns, through the flames, upon the sava-
ges. At length, as the roofs fell in, many rushed from
the buildings, and attenrpted to escape or implored
mercy, but were immolated without distinction of age
or sex. A few negroes and some women of the half-
blood were alone spared. But seventeen, of the five
hundred and fifty occupants of Fort Mims, escaped to
narrate the dreadful tragedy !
The loss of the Indians, during the day, was very
great. Not less than fifty warriors, including five
prophets, were slain in the first assault upon the gate,
and more than three hundred fell in the subsequent
contest.
254 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
Colonel Hawkins, the Indian agent, gives us, in his
letters, some of the details of this horrible transaction,
which he received from a negro taken prisoner at the
time : " He said he was in Minis' house, when it was
taken and destroyed. An Indian, seeing him in the
corner, said, l Come out ; the Master of Breath has
ordered us not to kill any but white people and half-
breeds.' An Indian woman, who was in the house, was
ordered out, and to go home. Dixon Bailey's sister,
a half-breed, was asked what family (white or red) she
was of ? She answered, pointing to her brother, ' I
am the sister to that great man you have murdered
there :' u^pon which they knocked hereto wn, cut her
open, strewed her entrails around. They threw several
dead bodies into the fire, and some that were wounded.
.... There was much silver money in the houses,
melted and run about, and some dollars blackened
only Among the killed are McGirth, Jones,
McCarty, Sam Smith, Dixon Bailey, his two brothers,
Mims and his family, Captain Melton, John Kandall
and all his family, except Peter Durant, and one of his
daughters. . . . McGirth's wife, and Jones' wife, and
all their children, except one of McGirth's, killed in
the fort, were taken, with the reporter, prisoners to the
nation. ... A daughter of Mr. Cornells told him to
make his escape, and tell what the Indians had done.
. . . Mrs. McGirth, on her way to the nation was
excessively distressed, and cried out aloud upon being
threatened by some of the warriors that they would put
her to death. She urged them to do it, as, in the
situation of her familv, she wished to die. She and
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 255
Mrs. Jon£s, with their families, were sent to Wewoka.
. . . After the battle, the Indians encamped about a
mile from the fort, until next day, twelve o'clock,
during which time they were busy hunting negroes,
horses and cattle, and brought off a great many."
The names of all who so miraculously escaped from
this great massacre, are not now known, but the fol-
lowing: list of most of them has been furnished me, on
the authority of two of the survivors : Dr. Thomas
G. Holmes, since of Baldwin County, Alabama ;
Lieutenant W. K. Chambliss, of the Mississippi Vol-
unteers ; Lieutenant Peter Randon, of the Tensaw
militia ; Jesse Steadham and his brother Edward,
afterwards citizens of Baldwin County ; Martin Rigdon,
Josiah Fletcher, John Hoven, Joseph Perry, James
Bealle, and Jones, Matthews, and Morris, whose given
names are not remembered. Several others are named
in Hawkins' letter just quoted. Sam Smith a half-
breed, whom he names as killed, also escaped. Most
of those who escaped, did so by pushing through the
fallen pickets at the least exposed points, and rushing
through the confused lines of the Indians, to the adja-
cent reed-brake, and thence to the Alabama River,
which they swam, and, after innumerable hardships,
reached Fort Stoddart, at Mount Vernon. Many of
them were severely wounded.
Numerous anecdotes live in tradition of the heroism
exhibited in the defence of this devoted fortress. The
fate of the chivalrous Dixon Bailey wears a romantic
hue becpming the character of the man. He was the
main hope and reliance of Lis associates during 11 p
256 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
terrible contact, and lie cheered them by his voice and
daring deeds till the very last moment. After the
pickets were forced, he fought gallantly from amid the
flames of Minis' house, surrounded by women and
children, but as the roof fell in, he snatched up his
youngest child, a boy of three or four years, leaped out
of a back door, dashed unexpectedly through the foes
at that quarter, and tied beyond the smoking limits of
the fort. Many guns were fired at him, and, being
wounded in several places, he was compelled to retreat
slowly, but he kept in check three or four warriors
who pursued him, by presnting towards them his for-
midable rifle. The Indians, flushed with victims, and
more intent upon booty than solitary slaughter, did
not pursue far this forest Rolla, and he succeeded in
reaching the neighboring swamp, with his child.
The flight of Dixon Bailey was witnessed by another
fugitive from the fort, who communicated the fact to
his friends ; but as nothing was heard from him, his
fate remained long a subject of painful conjecture.
After the lapse of several years, however, by the side
of a small stream, not far from the fort, were discov-
ered the skeletons of a man and child ; and a gun
firmly planted in the soft earth bore the name of Dixon
Bailey. He had died, it was supposed, of his wounds,
and the child had perished of hunger, by the side of its
dead father ; or, perhaps, had been slain in his arms.*
* For this interesting tradition I am indebted to the MSS. of Mrs
Maria Boykin, formerly the accomplished wife of Col. B. Boykin of
Mobile. She had made many interesting collections as to the History
of Alabama, but unfortunately died before she had finished them for
publication.
THE MASSACRE AT FORT MIMS. 257
We might mention other anecdotes connected with
this massacre, but the reader has already "supped full
of horrors/' and we hasten to conclude our sketch.
The bodies of the slain, on this occasion, both Indians
and whites, were never buried, and long afterwards, so
great had been the carnage, the fields contiguous to
the fort were white with human bones, bleaching
under the influence of the seasons. The disaster
terminated the settlements east of the Tensaw, and
they were uot resumed until the conclusion of the
war. Upon their return homewards, the Indians
sent out a detachment of one hundred warriors, under
the prophet Francis, which attacked one of the forts
in the fork of the Alabama and Tombeckbee, but was
repulsed with a loss of five killed. The Indians then
returned to the nation, mourning in plaintive songs
their warriors who had been slain, but rejoicing more
loudly over the many scalps they had brought back,
and the unprecedented butchery they had achieved.
Well might they, in their darkened barbarism, imagine
that the complete destruction, of the White Man, so
positively promised by their prophets, had already been
begun, and soon would be accomplished. Little did
they see, in the future, the dreadful retribution to be
brought upon their country, by Claiborne, and Floyd
and Jackson. Their boasted massacre itself became
a watchword and an impulse to devastating armies,
and it was resolutely determined by each of those
generals, that no warrior, whose participation in the
carnage at Fort Minis could be proven, should be
permitted to escape with his life. The commencement,
258 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
progress, and termination of the war, viewed in this
relation, develope a spirit not unlike the sullen desti-
nies of the Greek tragedy, and partake of an interest
but little subordinate to the melancholy stateliness 01
the (Edipus, or the Medea.
SKETCH OF WEATHERFORD,
OR THE
EED EAG-L E,
The Great Chief of the Creeks in the War
against General Jackson ; with Incidental
Accounts of many of the leading Chiefs and
Warriors of the Muscogee Indians.
" Shall not one line lament the lion race,
For us struck out from sweet creation's face'?"
Charles Sprague.
The heroic and exalted character once generally at-
tributed to the aborigines of our country, has come to
be regarded as an overwrought fable. The singular
manners and picturesque costumes which these strange
people first presented to European eyes, their novel
modes of life, the vast forests through which they
roamed in quest of game or war, their courage, hardi-
hood and unrestrained freedom, produced upon excited
fancies an over-estimate of the happiness and virtues
of their condition. Yoyagers and travelers, who had
seen but little of their actual character and habits,
260 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS. . .
vied with each other in depicting them as a primitive
people, existing in Arcadian comfort, possessing few of
the vices of civilization, and retaining the traits and
qualities of an almost unfallen nature. This error was
extended by the virtues and romantic adventures of a
few of the children of the woods, a Pocahontas or a
Philip of Pokanoket, who were erroneously taken as
specimens of their entire race. Poetry and fiction lent
their embellishments to conceal the truth, and the
pleasant fancies of Chateaubriand, Kousseau, and
Campbell, were received by the world as faithful por-
traitures of the virtues, circumstances, and sentiments
of the American Indian, — " the stoic of the woods,
the man without a tear."
Observation and experience at length dissipated these
errors. The American Indian was found to be what
enlightened reason would expect from his circumstances.
Although he possessed marry of the hardier traits of
character, such as we may properly call the physical
virtues, yet he was entirely destitute of those excel-
lencies of feeling and condition which give symmetry
and loveliness to life. Ignorant, superstitious, cruel,
bestial and obscene, the victim of strong and degraded
passions, and a houseless wanderer, exposed to the in-
clemencies of the seasons and the trials of want, he pre-
sented, in the main, none of the better beauties of
humanity, and certainly no illustration of that wild
whim of the philosopher of Clarens, — the perfection of
the savage state, and the moral healthfulness of bar-
barism ! More than this, the Indian has proved himself
unsusceptible of civilization, and unfitted, by the in-
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 261
i
stincts of his nature, for the higher, or even the lower,
degrees of intellectual and social culture.
Though such is the general character of the aborigines
of this country, yet it may not be denied that, in fre-
quent instances, there have been manifestations among
them of the nobler properties of mind and heart. Some
of their warriors have exhibited a military spirit and
genius unsurpassed in the annals of civilized warfare.
Philip of Mount Hope, and Pontiac wanted but a fair
field and auspicious circumstances, to have accomplished
careers as brilliant as that which extended from Aus-
terlitz to Waterloo. Combined with this capacity,
other chieftains have wielded an influence over the
judgments and passions of men, by the power of their
eloquence, which must ever command our admiration.
Who has not felt the deep pathos of the complaint of
Logan ? It is difficult to award Tecumseh the higher
place as an orator or a warrior ; and the eloquence of
Piamingo never failed of its purpose, whether urging
his red followers to the battle, or censuring the white
man for unjust encroachments upon the territories of
the Chickasaw.
These enumerations might be extended, but we prefer
passing at once to the subject of the present sketch ;
a chieftain, who, though comparatively little known,
comprised in his character the elements of the warrior
and the statesman, as fully as any other native hero,
and, for the elevation and effectiveness of his eloquence,
certainly surpassed all aboriginal competition. In ad-
dition to this, his career was marked by a romantic
interest little inferior to the incidents of wildest fiction,
262 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
and his character partook of a spirit of rude chivalry,
as singular and fascinating, as the circumstances, amid
which it was developed, were unpropitious and repul-
sive. We know no finer instance in Indian history, of
genius, heroism, and eloquence united ; and, about the
events, which brought these qualities into action, there
were a consecutiveness of arrangement and a species of
retributive operation, which give to the whole an epic
or dramatic semblance and coloring very rare in actual
occurrences. It is true, that the character of this Mus-
cogee Chieftain was marked by other and opposite
qualities ; by cruelty, superstition, and the common
vices of his time and people, yet they do not diminish,
but rather heighten, the effect which a faithful narra-
tive of his life and adventures is calculated to produce.
It is exceedingly difficult, however, to procure the
materials for such a narrative. Little attention has ever
been given to the history of the Muscogee Indians ; and
he who would understand the character and career of
their jmncipal Chieftain, — a warrior whose name, forty
years ago, diffused terror along the whole Southwestern
frontier, — is compelled to be content with meagre and
incidental allusions, in a few scattered volumes and
old newspapers, or with the exaggerated and contra-
dictory accounts of fast-fading tradition. There is
not, to my knowledge, anything like a biographical
sketch of Weatherford. This deficiency I propose to
supply, as a subject of historic interest to all parts of
our country, but especially to the Southwest. What I
shall state may be relied upon as strictly true ; for, in
addition to having examined with all care the pub-
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 263
lished histories touching the time, I have drawn my
information from the statements of several individuals
who were personally acquainted with Weatherford, in
the last years of his life, and heard him frequently
narrate the most remarkable incidents of his history.
Still my account will be found, to some extent, imper-
fect, from an ignorance of circumstances which it has
been impossible to elucidate, and from the contradic-
tions which always exist in traditionary narratives.
This obscurity, while it detracts somewhat from his-
toric completeness, yet leaves light enough to satisfy
us that we are considering one of the most remarkable
men, whether savage or civilized, which the American
hemisphere has produced.
William Weatherford, who was sometimes called,
in his native tongue, Lamochattee, or the Red
Eagle, was a scion of an illustrious stock, among the
Muscogee or Creek Indians, produced by the inter-
marriage of various white men with females of the
aboriginal race. Soon after the French, from Mobile,
had established, in 1714, Fort Toulouse, as a military
and trading station, near the junction of the Coosa
and Tallapoosa, a Captain Marchand, in command at
that post, took as his wife, according to the rude rites
of the wilderness, Sehoy, a Muscogee maiden of the
dominant Family of the Wind. From this union was
born Sehoy Marchand, who married in 1740, Lachlan
McGrillivray, a shrewd Scotch adventurer from South
Carolina. They left three children, one of whom,
Alexander McGrillivray, became the great Chief, or
Emperor, as he styled himself, of all the confederated
264 . SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
Muscogee tribes. He was a man of the highest intel-
lectual abilities, of considerable education, and of won-
derful talents for intrigue and diplomacy. This he ex-
hibited conspicuously, through the period of the Amer-
ican Revolution, in baffling alike the schemes of our
countrymen, both Whig and Tory, of the Spaniards in
Florida, of the British at Mobile, and of the French
at New Orleans, and by using them simultaneously-
for his own purposes of political and commercial
aggrandizement. A more wily Talleyrand never trod
the red war-paths of the frontiers, or quaffed the decep-
tive black-drink at sham councils or with deluded
agents and emissaries. His Life would make a most
astonishing and attractive Romance. The other chil-
dren of his parents were girls, and formed distinguished
alliances. One of them married Le Clere Milfort, a
talented French officer, who resided twenty years in
the nation, as a War Chief, and then, having lost his
wife, returned to Paris, published a Memoir of his
" Sejour dans la nation Creek" and died a General of
Brigade under Napoleon. Another sister, a very gifted
woman, married Benjamin Durant, a Huguenot trader
from South Carolina, of wonderful athletic powers,
and gave birth to several children, among whom were
Lachlan Durant, still living as the head of a family in
Baldwin County, Alabama, and a daughter, who mar-
ried one of the half-breed Baileys, so distinguished, in
the defence of Fort Minis.
By a previous marriage with, a Tuckabatchee chief,
the wife of Lachlan McGillivray had had another
daughter, upon whom she bestowed her own favorite
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 265
queenly name of Sehoy. This young princess married,
in 1778, Col. Tait, a British officer at Fort Toulouse—
that fortress being then a British possession, as Mobile
was also during the whole period of our Revolution.
David Tait, a distinguished leader, and other children
were the fruits of this marriage, and they have many
descendants still surviving.
But Col. Tait soon left his half-breed wife, a buxom
and beautiful widow, and she formed another alliance
far more important in its consequences. This was with
Charles Weatherford, an enterprising Scotch pedlar
and a passionate lover of horse-racing, who entered the
najtion from Georgia and speedily amassed a consid-
erable fortune in negroes and horses. He was a man
of good English education and of great shrewdness^
though Claiborne and others have described him as
sordid, treacherous and revengeful.
The residence of McGillivray was principally at Little
Tallasee, upon a beautiful upland lawn called the
"Apple Grove," overlooking the Coosa; but his
brothers-in-law made homes and plantations for their
families at different points along the Alabama River,
as far, even, as its confluence with the Tombeckbee. It
is perhaps proper to state here, however, that all of
these "head-men" had more wives than one, the Mus-
cogee customs allowing polygamy as freely as the most
libidinous Mormon could desire. The several wives
occupied different cabins, often at very remote points.
Still there was always a favorite wife, of chief right and
authority, and the sisters of McGillivray need fear no
rivalry, as well on account of their own intrinsic rank
266 SKETCHES AttD ESSAYS,
and abilities as from the vast influence of their
brother.
Charles Weatherford acquired, by his marriage,
great popularity in the nation, and took an active part
in the political and diplomatic dealings with the Span-
ish and American authorities. His residence was on
the eastern bank of the Alabama River, at the first
bluff below the junction of the Coosa and Tallapoosa,
and opposite the Indian village of Coosawda. Here
be had a good dwelling-house and store, and, near by,
his favorite Race Track, a strong point of attraction
to the dissipated natives. These were mainly of the
Alabama tribe, a large division of the Muscogees, who
populated the country along both banks of the fine
stream still retaining their name, to its union with the
Tombeckbee. It may also be stated, that this par-
ticular tribe appears, from old maps and records, to
have been identical with the Hillabees, the Allabees,
the UHaballis, &c, as their name is variously written
by the older French and English writers— thus show-
ing that the soft word Alabama, whose derivation has
been much disputed, is compounded of Alaba, the
name of the tribe, and the guttural ejaculation ma or
me, so commonly used by the natives in conversation.
At this residence of his father, the Race Track,
William Weatherford first opened his eyes upon
the scenes in which he was destined to perform so con-
spicuous a part. The time of his birth is not certainly
known, though it must have been about the year 1780,
as he was but little over thirty at the commencement
of the war in 1813. Under the instruction of his fa-
WEAfHEftFORD, OB ffiE RED EAGLE. 267
;
ther, and his uncle. General McGillivray, and of Gen-
eral Le Clerc Milfort, young Weatherford, though he
would not learn to read or write, acquired a very accu-
rate knowledge of the English language, which was
advanced and improved by visits to Pensacola and Mo-
bile. But the mind of the young Indian, though
grasping with singular readiness the knowledge thus
imparted, was subject to stronger tastes and propensi-
ties ; and he indulged in all the wild pursuits and
amusements of the youth of his nation, with an alac-
rity and spirit which won their approval and admira-
tion. He became one of the most active, athletic, and
swift-footed participants in their various games and
dances, and was particularly expert and successful as
a hunter, in the use of the rifle and the bow. He was
also noted, even in his youth, for his reckless daring as
a rider, and his graceful feats of horsemanship^-which
the fine stables of his father enabled him to indulge.
To use the words of an old Indian woman who knew
him at this period, " The squaws would quit hoeing
corn, and smile and gaze upon him as he rode by the
corn-patch.^
As he grew to manhood, the wars of his people with
the Chickasaws and Choctaws, and sanguinary excur-
sions to the frontiers of Georgia and Tennessee, opened
fields for the exercise of his talents as a warrior, and,
in many perilous expeditions and adventures along the
waters of the Chattahoochee and the Cumberland, —
the Tombeckbee and the Tuscaloosa, the young
chieftain denoted that prowess and indomitable energy
288 SKETCHES AKD ESSAYS.
of character, which laid the basis of his subsequent
influence with his tribe.
But, in addition to these military qualities. Weather-
ford, at an early period, exhibited that more intellec-
tual power, Eloquence, which always fascinates and
sways a savage people. His familiarity with the
English language gave him a range of thought and
facility of utterance, uncommon with native orators.
The Muscogee language, like every other aboriginal
tongue, being rude and uncultivated, was necessarily
deficient in terms to exj)ress abstract ideas, or spiritual
conceptions ; and consequently its speakers were forced,
when attempting these, into circumlocutions and
comparisons drawn from the physical world. Their
language, so to speak, was as much a material growth,
as the birds and the blossoms. They had no syno-
nymes for such words as Peace, and Virtue — the
white wing of the crane was the symbol of the one,
and the clear brook, or the morning breeze, betokened
the other. This accounts for the picturesque and
figurative style of Indian oratory : a style admired by
us, from its poetic nature, but whose beauties were not
ap23arent to its authors and were felt as restraints
and necessities. The familiarity of Weatherford with
the English language enabled him, the more readily,
to obviate these difficulties, and to give freer scope, in
expression, to his thoughts and feelings. This will be
obvious, in the specimen we shall submit, of his
oratory. Early, then, he acquired influence with his
people, as an orator. His stirring appeals, unsur-
passed in Muscogee tradition, roused them to the
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 269
fight, or guided them in their deliberations, with a
judgment and perspicuity which commanded confi-
dence and respect. It was thus that a master spirit
may ever assert its superiority among an ignorant and
barbarous people ; and the young orator and warrior
soon found himself elevated, by his own force of
character, to a commanding position in the councils of
his tribe.
Such was Weatherford, in the earlier years of his
manhood ; and, in further illustration of his character,
we may here introduce a sketch given by Mr. Clai-
borne, in his Notes on the War in the South. The
reader will see that this sketch is by no partial hand.
It was written while the author was incensed against
our hero, for the atrocities committed in the war then
recently concluded, — and an unjust coloring is given
to the vices of his character. But we present the nar-
rative unbroken, with only a slight change in the
arrangement of its sentences : —
" Fortune bestowed on Weatherford, genius, elo-
quence, and courage. The first of these qualities
enabled him to conceive great designs ; the last to exe-
cute them ; while eloquence, bold, impressive, and
figurative, furnished him with a passport to the favor
of his countrymen and followers. Silent and reserved,
unless when excited by some great occasion, and supe-
rior to the weakness of rendering himself cheap by the
frequency of his addresses, he delivered his opinions
but seldom in council ; but, when he did so, he was
listened to with delight and approbation. His judg-
ment and eloquence had secured the respect of the old ;
270 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
his vices made him the idol of the young and the unprin-
cipled With avarice, treachery, and a thirst for
blood, he combines lust, gluttony, and a devotion to
every species of criminal carousal Passionately
devoted to wealth, he had appropriated to himself a
fine tract of land, improved and settled it ; and, from
the profits of his father's pack, had decorated and em-
bellished it. To it he retired occasionally, and, relaxing
from the cares of State, he indulged in pleasures which
are but rarely found to afford satisfaction to the devo-
tees of ambition and fame In his person, he
is tall, straight, and well proportioned ; his eye
black, lively, penetrating, and indicative of courage and
enterprize ; his nose prominent, thin, and elegant in
its formation ; while all the features of his face, har-
moniously arranged, speak an active and disciplined
mind Such were the opposite and sometimes
disgusting traits of character in the celebrated Weather-
ford, the key and corner-stone of the Creek Confederacy."
Though, we say, this portrait is somewhat too darkly
shaded ; yet in 1812, Weatherford began to develope
those features which rendered him odious to the Amer-
ican people. In the spring of that year, the celebrated
Tecumseh visited the Muscogee Indians, and endea-
vored to enlist them in his famous conspiracy. His
shrewd and penetrating mind at once discovered in
the young chief of the Alabamas, as he had already
become, a valuable ally for his designs, and, by making
him his confident and principal war agent in the
nation, he succeeded in winning him to his schemes.
Weatherford had never liked the American people.
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 271
He boasted that there was no Yankee blood in his
veins. His uncle, Gen. McGillivray, had carefully
instilled this hatred into his mind, and the Spaniards
at Pensacola, had, by repeated appeals to his avarice
and ambition, stimulated him to hostility. He looked
upon the constant encroachments of the Americans
upon the territories of his people, as foreboding the
extinction of his tribe, or their reduction to slavery
and want. Under all these motives, he entered hear-
tily into the plans of Tecumseh, and began to prepare
for war. Artful appeals were made to the supersti-
tions and passions of the Indians. A chieftain, named
Josiah Francis, or Hillishadjo, appeared as a Prophet,
and claimed to have received direct revelations from
the " Master of Breath/' that no red-man should be
hurt in the war, but that the white people should all
be destroyed. As essential to this, however, the Indians
were directed to abandon all the arts of civilization ;
to destroy their clothing, ploughs and looms ; and
to resume their old savage habits and modes of life.
Numerous other prophets, male and female, among
whom were Monohoe, and Sinquista, aided in inflam-
ing the minds of the Indians. The substance of one
of these prophecies may be gleaned from a letter of
Col. Hawkins, in the American State Papers ; " The
Great Spirit comes down to us in the sun : he comes
down right over our heads. He has given us power to
make thunder, and lightning, and earthquakes, and
quagmires. He can make the ground open and swal-
low up our enemies. He can draw circles around our
nouses, and no white man can come in them, without
272 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
falling down dead. He can rain down fire, and make
the wind cut like hatchets. Be savages, and yon shall
be strong as the hurricane."
With such fooleries, and by the stirring eloquence
of Weatherford, most of the Indians of the " Upper
Towns," those on the Alabama waters, were won to
hostilities. The Indians of " the Lower Towns," upon
the Chattahoochee, generally remained friendly. The
hostile party became as completely free from the re-
strictions of civilization as the most benevolent disci-
ple of Jean Jacques could desire.
It was the wish of Weatherford, that an outbreak
should not occur until the promised return of Tecum-
seh from the North. As he reflected upon the mag ni-
tude of the undertaking, and the power of the white
foe, and as he found that a very large part of his cwn
nation, including many of his near relatives and friends,
who were among the most influential persons in the
nation, would not ioin in hostilities, he began to hesi-
JO / o
tate as to the course he had intended. He was now
living on a fine plantation near the Holy Ground, with
his family, having many negroes, horses and stock
about him. Finding that the storm of hostilities
could not be allayed, he secretly went down to the
residence of his half-brother, David Tait, on Little
River, (the present dividing line between Monroe and
Baldwin Counties,) to consult him and his other rela-
tives, among whom was his brother, Jack Weather-
ford, as to what course he should pursue. They ad-
vised him to fly with his family, negroes and other
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 273
■)
property, to their neighborhood ; and he started home
for that purpose.
Meanwhile the hostiles, discovering Weatherford' s
absence, and suspecting his purpose, seized his family,
negroes, horses, and movable property, and took them
to the Hickory Ground, shortly above Wetumpka.
Weatherford, finding, this, went to the Hickory
Ground, and was told by the hostiles that they in-
tended to keep his family and negroes as hostages, and
would kill them and him, if he did not join in the
war. Under this necessity, Weatherford revived his
old determinations, from which unavoidable embarrass-
ments had temporarily diverted him. He consented
to swim with the stream which, he could not stem.
The ferocities of the two parties in the nation, and
the Battle of Burnt Corn, which we elsewhere de-
scribe, led at once to the attack upon Fort Mims.
The particulars of that sanguinary affair are embodied
in another sketch, and it is only necessary here to re-
mark, that the worst features of the character of
Weatherford, were then developed in dreadful hideous-
ness. He, it is perhaps true, attempted, at first, to
prevent the attack, but yielded to the importunities,
of his warriors, and led them in the onset with a
ferocity which no excuse can palliate. That he had
some motives for wishing to avert this blow, will
appear from circumstances we will now relate.
Not long before the war Weatherford had sought in
marriage, as a second wife, the daughter of Joseph
Cornells, a white man, who had long resided among
the Indians as an interpreter, and married an Indian
274 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
wife, by whom he had five children. These were
George, Alexander, and James, sons, and Anna and
Lucy, daughters. The family was wealthy, and one of
the most influential in the nation. Their residence was
at Tuckabatchee, on the Tallapoosa. Alexander became
a chief, and by an Indian wife was the father of Opothle
Yoholo, now a distinguished chieftain of his tribe in
Arkansas. Anna Cornells, shortly before the war,
married a son of the Big Warrior, the principal leader
of the friendly Indians. The other sons had the trading
habits of their father, and acted as pedlars in different
parts of the nation. The career of James was marked
by some romantic incidents, which may form an in-
teresting episode in our narrative, as showing the sin-
gular modes of life and feeling among these denizens of
the wilderness.
Some years before the war, James Cornells had pur-
chased, from one of the McGrirts, a ferry on the Alabama
Eiver, not far from the present town of Claiborne.
Here, on a bold bluff overlooking the river, he resided
with his niece, a handsome young half-breed. A man,
named Jones, came to the place, with his wife, a fine-
looking woman, who had no children. Cornells em-
ployed Jones to keep the ferry, and soon fell in love
with his wife. The charms of a buxom dame, with
fair complexion and blue eyes, were too much for the
half-forest Lothario. She returned his partiality, and
Cornells, in a spirit of savage equity, proposed to Jones
to give him his niece in exchange for his wife. The
proposition was agreeable to all parties, and Cornells
accordingly took the dame, and removed to Burnt
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 275
Corn, where the road from Pensacola branched off into
the nation. Here he located himself, as an eligible
point to deal with the Indians and pedlars trading to
and from Pensacola, and with the emigrants from
Georgia, who passed by this place on their way to the
Tombeckbee settlements and to Mississippi.
Jones, rejoicing in his new nuptials, remained at the
ferry, having agreed to pay Cornells a portion of the
receipts. He was, however, dissipated and drunken,
and very reckless and desperate when under the influ-
ence of liquor. The " green-eyed monster " seems also
to have speedily invaded his domestic sanctuary. One
day, after having been off and got drunk, he returned
home and found Jim Dale, a brother of the celebrated
Canoe-Fighter, of whom we speak elsewhere, in his
house, talking alone with his wife. This Dale was a
very powerful man, but was lame from a crooked knee,
which made one leg some two or three inches shorter
than the other, and forced him to walk with a hobbling
gait. The sight of the suspicious intruder in the shrine
where he had " garnered up his hopes," at once roused
all the Othello blood in the husband's bosom, and
drawing his knife, he rushed upon him. Dale, albeit
brave, was unarmed, and was forced to make a hasty
and limping retreat into the yard, where, seizing a large
weeding hoe, he turned and struck his pursuer with
great force upon the top of the head. The blade passed
transversely through the skull, but did not sever the
cartilage of the brain. Jones fell senseless, with the
hoe sticking fast in his head. Dale continued his
hobbling flight, but the injured Desdemona sprang to
'276 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
her fallen lord, pulled out the hoe, and nursed him as
well as she could. Savage hostilities had now broken
out, and concealing her husband in a cane-brake, she
carefully tended him until his recovery.
After the war, Jones resumed the ferry, but refused
to pay Cornells any portion of the receipts, or to
recognize any title in him. The indignant owner hav-
ing come to see Jones about it, he became very mad,
and seizing his gun, attempted to shoot Cornells, who
fled for safety. For several days he skulked about
from one place to another, not having any weapon to
defend himself with against his drunken and desperate
pursuer. At last, he took refuge in the camp of Mc-
Girt, where he thought himself safe. But one morn-
ing he was startled by the sound of a horse's feet, and
looking out, saw Jones riding rapidly up, armed with
a double-barrelled shot gun. Looking around for
some weapon of defence, he could find nothing but an
old rusty musket, which McGrirt afterwards said, he
believed had not been used since sometime in the war,
and certainly had been loaded more than a year. The
lock was all covered with rust and dirt. With this,
Cornells sprang up, and, levelling it at Jones, ordered
him to stop. The latter starting to raise his gun,
Cornells cocked the old musket, and, pulling the trigger,
the load went off and killed Jones dead on the spot.
Cornells now got possession of the Ferry, and re-
ceived back his wife from Pensacola, whither she had
been taken as a prisoner by McQueen's warriors and
sold, after they had destroyed her husband's residence
on Burnt Corn Creek, at the commencement of the wars
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 277
The " widow Jones" soon solaced herself for the loss
of her drunken and jealous spouse, in the arms of a
second husband named Oliver.
From this romantic hut well-authenticated episode,
we return to our main narrative. The youngest
daughter of Joseph Cornells was Lucy, an extremely
beautiful and spirited maiden of about seventeen or
eighteen summers. With her Weatherford became
passionately enamored, and his affections were recipro-
cated. But hostilities breaking out just at this time,
Joseph Cornells fled with his family to the Tensaw
settlements and took shelter in Fort Minis. The
presence of these and others to whom he was related,
including the Taits, the Durants, the Bailevs, and the
Macnacs, rendered Weatherford unwilling to permit
the massacre, and it is quite certain that he -apprised
some of the inmates of the intended assault. Of the
few who escaped destruction, Cornells was one, not
being in the fort at the time of the attack, and his
daughter was taken to the nation by Weatherford,
with whom she remained during the war. The father
took an active part on the American side, and was of
essential service as a guide in our army.
After his return from Fort Mims, Weatherford was,
by general consent, declared the principal chief and
warrior, or Tustenuggee, of the hostile Indians, and
made every arrangement in his power to meet the
approaching contest. We need not detail the particu-
lars of that war ; they are a part of the permanent
history of our country. In nearly all the battles that
took place, Weatherford was present, and distinguished
278 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
himself for his generalship, intrepidity, and endurance.
But what could be expected from the feeble numbers
and resources of the Indians ? The invaders pressed
through every part of the nation, with a celerity as
astonishing as their power was irresistible. The bat-
tle of Tallashatchee was fought the third of November ;
Talladega, the tenth ; Hillabee, the eighteenth ; Au-
tossee, the twenty-ninth ; Emuckfaw, the twenty-
second of January, 1814 ; Echanachaca, the twenty-
third ; Enotichopco, the twenty-fourth ; Caleebe, the
twenty-seventh ; and Tohopeka, or the Horse-Shoe, the
twenty-seventh of March. These, with numerous
smaller engagements, almost exterminated the nation.
Not less than four thousand warriors are believed to
have fallen victims to their wild fanaticism and mar-
tyr-like courage ! And is it not strange that, through
all these bloody fields, the chieftain most hunted and
exposed, should have passed without even a serious
wound ? Some Fortune does indeed protect the
Brave ! Let us cite a few instances, not more romantic
than well authenticated.
Echanachaca, or the Holy Ground, was the residence
of Weatherford. The location of this spot has been,
with some, a subject of uncertainty. Eaton, in his
Life of Jackson, confounds it with the Hickory Ground,
in the fork of the Coosa and Tallapoosa, and tradition
has, in part, adopted the error. The Holy Ground
proper, however, was situated along the south bank of
the Alabama, between Pintlala and Big Swamp Creeks,
in the present county of Lowndes. It received its
name from being the residence of the principal
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 279
prophets of the nation, and having been by them con-
secrated from the intrusion of white men. Wizard
circles were described around its borders, and the
credulous inhabitants were assured that no enemy
could tread upon its soil without being blasted. It
was emphatically called the " Grave of White Men."
A more fertile and beautiful track of country, especi-
ally when clothed with the vegetation of spring-time,
does not exist in our State ; and it was thickly popu-
lated by the aborigines. Near the mouth of Pintlala,
stood a village of eighty wigwams. The chief town,
a few miles below, contained two hundred houses ;
and here the council house of the Alabama tribe was
situated. At the beginning of the war, the Indians
had removed their families and principal property to
this place ; and it was also their main depot of ammu-
nition and provisions. As the larger village was en-
closed by pickets as well as magic circles, it was con-
sidered impregnable to all assaults. But on the 23d of
December, 1813, General Claiborne, at the head of
the Mississippi militia, with a band of Choctaws
under Pushmataha, their Chief, invaded the Holy
Ground and destroyed its villages, after a desperate
resistance, in which many were slain. The women
and children barely had time to escape across the
Alabama. Weatherford conducted this defence with
great judgment and courage. But neither the prom-
ises of the prophets nor the example of their chief ,
could induce his followers to withstand the superior
numbers and strength of the invaders. Weatherford
was the last to leave the field, and, in consequence,
280 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
came near being taken prisoner. Though mounted
upon a swift horse, he was so closely pursued by a
body of dragoons, that the only chance of escape left
him was to make his way across the river. He pressed on
for this puq:>ose, but was so hedged and encircled by
his pursuers, that he was forced upon the summit of a
bluff which beetles over the river with an elevation of
nearly an hundred feet. Upon discovering his posi-
tion, the chief checked his steed, and, gazing around,
saw that his pursuers were at a short distance and
approaching rapidly, with shouts of joy and derision.
Quickly raising his rifle to his eye, he singled out the
foremost pursuer, brought him to the ground, and
then urging his horse with a sudden impulse, the noble
animal, dashing down a steep ravine for about half the
distance, leaped over the bluff, and the two were borne
with dreadful rapidity to the water. The horse re-
tained his upright position, and the rider his seat,
until they were within a short distance of the stream;
they then seperated; the horse sank to rise no more ;
but the gallant Indian, unhurt by the fall, swam
across the river, and escaped from his wondering and
baffled pursuers.
The battle of Tohopeka put an end to the hopes of
Weatherford. This village was situated on a penin-
sula, within the " horse-shoe bend" of the Tallapoosa.
Here twelve hundred warriors, from the towns of Oak-
fuskee, Hillabee, New Yauka, and Eufaula, had forti-
fied themselves for a desperate struggle, assured by
their prophets that the Master of Breath would now
interpose in their favor. Across the neck of land,
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 281
three hundred and fifty yards wide, that leads into the
peninsula, they had constructed powerful breastworks
of hewn logs, eight or ten feet high, and pierced with
double rows of port-holes, from which they could fire
with perfect security. The selection of this spot and
the character of its defences did great credit to the
military genius of Weatherford — and his eloquence,
more than usually persuasive and inspiriting, filled his
devoted followers with a courage strangely compounded
of fanaticism and despair. At an early hour in the
morning, General Coffee's command having crossed
the river and encircled the bend so as to cut off all es-
cape, General Jackson opened his artillery upon the
breastworks, and having but in part demolished them,
ordered forward the thirty-ninth regiment to carry
the place by storm. The van was gallantly led by
Colonel Williams, Colonel Bunch, Lieutenant-Colonel
Benton, and Major Montgomery. Amidst a most de-
structive fire, they pressed to the breastworks, and
desperately struggled for the command of the port-
holes. But Major Montgomery, impatient at the de-
lay, cried out to his men to follow him, and leaped
upon the wall in face of the deadliest fire. For an in-
stant he waved his sword over his head in triumph,
but the next fell lifeless to the ground, shot through
the head by a rifle ball. A more gallant spirit never
achieved a nobler death, and the name of the young
Tennesseean is preserved as a proud designation, by
one of the richest counties, as well as by one of the most
flourishing cities, in the State whose soil was baptized
by his blood !
282 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
The breastworks having been carried by storm, the
Indians fell back among the trees, brush and timber of
the peninsula, and kept up a spirited contest. But,
in the meantime, a portion of Coffee's command, and
some of the friendly warriors under their distinguished
chieftain, Mcintosh, had swam across the river, fired
the village of Tohopeka, and carried off the canoes of
the enemv. The followers of Weatherford now became
desperate, and from the banks, hollows and other fast-
nesses of the place, fought with fury, refusing all offers
of quarter. The fight continued in severity for five
hours ; and the going down of the sun was hailed by
the survivors as furnishing them some chance of escape.
But the hope was, in the main, deceptive. Already
five hundred and fifty-seven lay dead upon the battle-
field, and a great number now perished in the river.
Not more than twenty warriors are believed to have
escaped, under cover of the night.. Among these,
strange enough, was the chieftain whose appellation,
" the Murderer of Fort Mims," had formed the watch-
word and war-cry of his enemies in this very engagement.
Favored by the thick darkness, he floated down the
river with his horse, until below the American lines,
and then, reaching the shore, made his way in safety
to the highlands south of the Tallapoosa. The principal
prophets of the nation perished in this engagement. In
wild and fantastic decorations, — their heads and shoul-
ders adorned with the plumage of the peacock and the
flamingo, and with many jingling bells that kept music
to their wizard contortions and dances, they had
howled forth their incantations during the day ; but
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 283
perished with their deluded followers. Monohoe, one
of the principal, was struck by a cannon ball in the
mouth, while in the very act of giving utterance to a
burst of pretended inspiration. Is it wonderful that the
simple and superstitious savages regarded this as a sig-
nal and punishment of his impiety and falsehood ?
After this battle, the hostile Indians generally came
in and surrendered to General Jackson. A few,
among whom were Francis, the prophet, and Peter
McQueen, succeeded in escaping to Florida. The po-
sition of Weatherford was painful in the extreme.
He knew that he was an object of special vengeance
and retaliation with the American commander, for the
cruelties perpetrated at Fort Mims. He felt that he
was properly regarded as the head and front of the
whole offending. A talk of Gen. Jackson to the Hilla-
bee tribe, at the beginning of the war, had come to his
ears, in which that officer said, that " the instigators of
the war, and the murderers of our citizens, must be
surrendered ; the latter must and will be made to feel
the force of our resentment. Long shall they remem-
ber Fort Mims in bitterness and tears." Weatherford
could not consent to fly from the nation ; he felt that
he owed it, as a duty to his people, not to abandon them
until peace was restored. In this state of mind he was
apprised that the American commander had set a price
upon his head, and refused peace to the other chiefs,
unless they should bring him either dead, or in con-
finement, to the American camp, now at Fort Jackson,
near the junction of the rivers. His determination
was at once taken in the same spirit of heroism that
284 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
always marked his conduct. Accordingly, mounting
his horse, he made his way across the country, and
soon appeared at the lines of the encampment. At
his request, a sentinel conducted him to the presence
of the commander-in-chief, who was seated in his
marquee, in consultation with several of his principal
officers. The stately and nohle appearance of the
warrior, at once excited the attention and surprise of
the General, and he demanded of the Chief, his name
and the purpose of his visit.
In calm and deliberate tones, the chieftain said :
" I am Weatherford. I have come to ask peace for
myself and for my people."
The mild dignity with which these words were ut-
tered, no less than their import, struck the American
commander with surprise. After a moment he ex-
pressed his astonishment that one whose conduct at
Fort Mims was so well known, and who must be con-
scious that he deserved to die, should venture to ap-
pear in his presence. "I had directed you to be
brought to me confined. Had you appeared in that
way, I should have known how to have treated you."
Weatherford, his brow becoming slightly clouded,
and his voice deep but not tremulous, immediately
answered : "I am in your power. Do with me as you
please. I am a soldier. I have done the white people
all the harm I could. I have fought them, and fought
them bravely. If I yet had an army, I would fight
and contend to the last. But I have none. My peo-
ple are all gone. I can now do no more than weep
over the misfortunes of my nation."
WEA^HERFORD, OR $HE RED EAGLE. 285
The bold, dignified, and firm tone of this reply
struck a sympathetic key in the commander's bosom.
By intuitive perception the forest orator had discovered
the only mode of address which; perhaps, could have
softened the iron rigor of his conqueror's feelings : and
the latter answered, in substance, that, while the only
terms upon which the nation could be saved, were un->
conditional submission, yet, he said, — "as for yourself,
if you do not like the terms, no advantage shall be
taken of your present surrender : you are at liberty to
depart, and resume hostilities when you please. But^
if you are taken then, your life shall pay the forfeit of
your crimes."
This answer appeared to Weatherford, at first, as a
little ungenerous ; and, calmly folding his arms upon
his bosom, he replied : "I desire peace for no selfish
reasons^ but that my nation maybe relieved from their
sufferings j for, independent of the other consequences
of the war, their cattle are destroyed, and their women
and children destitute of provisions. But," he ex-
claimed, u I may well be addressed in such language
now ! There was a time when I had a choice, and could
have answered you ; I have none now. Even hope has
ended. Once I could animate my warriors to battle.
But I cannot animate the dead. My warriors can no
longer hear my voice. Their bones are at Talladega,
Tallashatchee, Emuckfaw, and Tohopeka. I have
not surrendered myself thoughtlessly. While there
were chances of success, I never left my post, nor sup-
plicated peace. But my people are gone, and I now
ask peace for my nation and myself, On the miseries
286 SKETCHES AND ESSAf S.
and misfortunes brought upon my country, I look back
with the deepest sorrow, and wish to avert still greater
calamities. If I had been left to contend with the
Georgia anny, I would have raised my corn on one
bank of the river, and fought them on the other. But
your people have destroyed my nation. General
Jackson, you are a brave man : I am another. I do
not fear to die. But I rely upon your generosity,
You will exact no terms of a conquered and helpless
people, but those to which they should accede.
Whatever they may be, it would now be folly and
madness to oppose them. If they are opposed, you
shall find me among the sternest enforcers of obedience.
Those, who Would still hold out, can only be influenced
by a mean spirit of revenge. To this they must not,
and shall not, sacrifice the last remnant of their coun-
try. You have told us what we may do and be safe.
Yours is a good talk, and my nation ought to listen
to it. They shall listen to it !"
This speech, pronounced with a calm, impressive
voice, an erect attitude, and but little gesticulation,
would have moved feelings less generous than those of
Gen. Jackson. He at once acceded to the demands
of Weatherford, and assured him of peace and safety
for himself and people. As a specimen of oratory we
know nothing finer than this address. It even surpasses
the admired speech of Caractacus, the Briton, when
led captive to Rome, and displays a spirit which would
have done credit to Napoleon, under similar circum-
stances, after the Battle of Waterloo. In the ordinary
characteristics of Indian eloquence, profuse imagery,
WEATHEREORD, OR TSE RED EAGLE. 287
it is wanting. There is not a metaphor, simile, or
superfluous phrase in the speech* But in this consists
its excellence. Deep feeling ever utters itself in the
plainest language, and does not stop to cull the flowers
of rhetoric and fancy, Had Weatherford dealt in
these, would he not undoubtedly have failed in securing
deliverance from his perilous position ?
Though the American commander was thus con-
ciliated, there were many friendly chiefs in the encamp-
ment who did not readily acquiesce in the pardon of
Weatherford. Even during the delivery of the first
part of his speech several guns were presented at him,
and Tustenuggee TJiIucco, the Big Warrior, went so
far as to attempt his life, being with difficulty restrained
by Gren. Jackson. Weatherford never forgave this
conduct of his old enemy, but, long after, spoke of it
as proceeding from cowardice and malevolence. The
friendly Indians generally, however, treated the fallen
chieftain, during his stay in camp, with the utmost
deference. They seldom came in his presence, and,
when any did, they were observed to quail before his
eye, and tremble with fear.
From this time, until the treaty of peace and cession,
on the ninth of August, 1814, Weatherford was ac-
tively engaged in inducing his friends and followers to
accept the terms of submission offered by the Ameri-
can General. After some weeks, he visited his rela-
tives upon Little River, near Fort Minis, and endea-
vored to collect together his negroes and cattle, at his
plantation, in that quarter. But his life was in con-
stant danger from the Steadhams and other survivors
288 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
of the massacre, and he went to Fort Claiborne, and
received the protection of Col. Russell, the commander.
Even here, however, the avengers were upon his track,
and the commander thought it best to send him to the
main army under Gen. Jackson. Accordingly, one
dark, stormy night, he was secretly conducted by Cap-
tain Laval, beyond the lines ; was mounted on a fine
horse, and started off rapidly for the American Head-
Quarters. Here he remained, under the immediate
protection of General Jackson, until the conclusion of
the treaty of peace and cession. In that treaty, so
marked by its stern and dictatorial tone, the Creeks
were forced to yield all their territory west of the Coosa
and south of the Alabama. This had been the coun-
try, principally, of the hostile party, and was demanded
as the price of the war. Thus, the cruelties perpe-
trated at Fort Minis, and the mad policy of the
fanatical chiefs and }3rophets, lost to the nation all the
fine domains which subsequently became the State of
Alabama. Truly does the gentle and sympathetic
Bryant sing : — •
" And we have built our homes upon
Fields where their generations sleep !''
In this treaty it was stipulated that a township of
land should be reserved in the ceded territory, to each
of the heads of the Indian families, who had been
friendly during the war. By this provision, the Taits,
the Cornells, the Sizemores, and Jack Weatherford,
the brother of the chieftain, and many others were
secured in their possessions. They also took charge
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 289
of the property of their distinguished but unfortunate
relative, in this quarter.
The war being over, General Jackson returned to
Tennessee, taking with him several of the leading
Indians. Among these, was his gallant and eloquent
antagonist — Weatherford. The safety of the chief
was the object of this act, and his presence was sedu-
lously concealed. At the Hermitage he remained for
nearly a year, (until after the seizure of Pensacola by
Jackson,) and then returned to his relatives upon
Little River. He brought with him two fine horses, —
one of them a splendid blooded animal, — which had
been presented to him by General Jackson. His rela-
tives soon restored to him his property, and generously
granted to him portions of their reservations, for a
plantation. Such of his negroes, horses and cattle as
had not been destroyed, were now brought from the
interior of the nation, and served to re-instate the
chief in somewhat of his ancient wealth. His home,
to which his family repaired, was located in a fine
live-oak grove upon the banks of Little River.
Here, almost within sight of the scene of his greatest
cruelties, the chief of many a hard- fought field, pur-
sued the peaceful occupations of a farmer. Gradually
the country about him filled up with that race against
whom his hand had been lifted with so much violence :
but we know not that his quiet or repose was ever dis-
turbed by unfriendliness or intrusion, except on one or
two occasions, by the still revengeful Steadhams, who
were eventually propitiated by the explanations of the
chief and his friends. The character of the man seemed
290 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
to have been changed by the war. He was no longer
cruel, vindictive, idle, intemperate, or fond of display.
But, surrounded by his family, he preserved a dignified
and retiring demeanor ; was industrious, sober, and
economical ; and was a kind and indulgent master to
his servants, of whom he had many. A gentleman,
who had favorable opportunities of judging, says of
him, that "in his intercourse with the whites, his
bearing was marked by nobleness of purpose, and his
conduct was always honorable. No man was more
fastidious in complying with his engagements. His
word was by him held to be more sacred than the most
binding legal obligation. Art and dissimulation formed
no }:>art of his character. Ever frank and guileless, no
one had the more entire confidence of those among
whom he lived." Another gentleman, who knew
Weatherford intimately for a number of years, informs
me that " he possessed remarkable intellectual powers :
that his perceptions were quick almost to intuition, his
memory tenacious, his imagination vivid, his judgment
strong and accurate, and his language copious, fluent
and expressive. In short," he says, " Weatherford
possessed naturally one of the finest minds our country
has produced."
These traits of character, exhibited for a number of
years, won for their possessor, the esteem and respect
of those who knew him, notwithstanding the circum-
stances of his earlier life. Indeed, those circumstances
threw around the man a romance of character, which
made him the more attractive. After the bitterness,
which the war engenered, had subsided, his narratives
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 291
were listened to with interest and curiosity. Though
unwilling, generally, to speak of his adventures, he
would, when his confidence was obtained, describe thern
with a graphic particularity and coloring, which gave an
insight into conditions of life and phases of character,
of which we can now only see the outside. He always
extenuated his conduct at Fort Mims and during the
war, under the plea that the first transgressions were
committted by the white people, and that he was
fighting for the liberties of his nation. He also asserted
that he was reluctantly forced into the war, as has been
described.
There are many characteristic anecdotes of Weather-
ford, in the last years of his life. We can preserve
but one. A desperado named Callier, had committed
a murder at Claiborne, and being armed, refused to
be taken by the sheriff, and swore he would kill any
man who approached him. The posse had been sum-
moned, but were deterred by the threats of the
criminal. At last, it was suggested that Weatherford
was in the village, and if summoned would take him.
The sheriff sought the chief, and, informing him of the
circumstances, asked if he would make the attempt ?
" If you order me, I will do my duty," was the reply.
" Then I order you to take him, dead or alive/' — said
the sheriff, and the two proceeded to the ground. Callier
was standing in an open square, with a drawn butcher-
knife in his hand. Weatherford, loosening a knife
which he wore in his girdle, immediately approached
him, and ordered him to surrender. He replied only
in a husky voice, " Keep off I " Nothing daunted.
292 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
Weatherford marched immediately up to him ; he
dropped the point of his knife ; it was wrested from
his hand; and he was delivered, a prisoner, to the
officers of the law. Weatherford, being asked of his
design in case of resistance, replied : "I fixed my eye
upon his as I approached, and, if he had moved a muscle
to strike, I should have dodged his blow, and cut his
throat before he recovered/' There is no doubt the
chief understood the business he was about.
Weatherford continued to reside at his plantation
until the spring of 1824. In that year, we find the
following notice in a Mobile paper, with which we
may draw our sketch to a close :
" William Weatherford, the celebrated savage war-
rior, is, at length, vanquished, — the destroyer is con-
quered, — the hand, which so profusely dealt death
and desolation among the whites, is now paralyzed, —
it is motionless. He died at his late residence near
Montpelier, in this State, on the 9th of March instant.
His deeds of war are well known to the early settlers
in South Alabama, and will be remembered by them
while they live, and be talked of, with horror, by gen-
erations yet unborn. But his dauntless spirit has
taken its flight : he is gone to the land of his fathers."
Weatherford left behind him, a large family of chil-
dren. They have now grown to years of maturity ;
have intermarried with our own population, and are
highly respected for many excellent traits of character.
A grand-nephew of his is now the United States'
Consul at Cadiz, in Spain. No monument marks the
spot where the remains of the distinguished chieftain
WEATHERFORD, OR THE RED EAGLE. 293
were deposited,* but yet no unfit inscription for his
grave might be found in the words which Wordsworth
has applied to Rob Roy : —
"And thou, although with some wild thoughts,
Wild chieftain of a savage clan,
Hads't this to boast, that thou didst love
The liberty of man /"
* Recently, arrangements have been made by the descendants oi
Weatherford, to erect a monument to his memory, with suitable in-
scriptions.
THE CANOE FIGHT;
With a Sketch of the First American Settle-
ments in the Interior of Alabama, and of
many eomantic and sanguinary incidents in
the Creek War. Also, Biographies of Gen-
eral Sam. Dale, Jere. Austill, and James
Smith, the Heroes of that Fight.
-The aged crone
Recounts the scenes of strife and daring gone :
Tells how the Indian scalped the helpless child,
And bore the shrieking mother to the wild, —
Butchered the father hastening to his home,
Seeking his cottage, finding but a tomb."
J. G. C. Brainard.
There lias seldom occurred in border warfare, a
more romantic incident than the one known in Alabama
tradition, as the Canoe Fight. History has almost
overlooked it, as too minute in its details for her
stately " philosophy." Yet, for singularity of event,
novelty of position, boldness of design, and effective
personal fortitude and prowess, it is unsurpassed, if
equalled, by anything in backwoods chronicles, how-
296 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
ever replete these may be with the adventures of pio-
neers, the sufferings of settlers, and the achievements
of that class who seem almost to have combined the
life and manners of the freebooter with the better vir-
tues of social man. A detailed account will illustrate
somewhat of this, and show, partially at least, the
characteristics of the first white settlers, along the
Alabama and Tombeckbee, and the difficulties they
encountered and overcame.
The Canoe Fight was one of the early consequences
of the massacre at Fort Mims. The friends and rela-
tives of the sufferers in that sansminarv affair were
roused to almost savage indignation and hostility.
They were men well calculated, both by nature and
habits of life, to meet such an emergency. With no
dependence but the axe and the rifle, they had brought
their families through the wilderness, and made them
homes upon the table^lains and rich alluvial bottoms
of our two principal streams. The character and
habits of the Indians, they understood well ; their
stratagems in warfare, their guile and cunning. With
a flexibility of nature, that still retained its superiority,
they accommodated themselves to these, and were pre-
pared, as far as their limited numbers would go, for
the necessities of either peace or war. To a spectator,
the strange buckskin garb, the hunting-shirt, leggings
and moccasins, the long and heavy rifle, the large knife
swinging by the shot-bag, the proud, erect deportment,
but cautious tread, and the keen, far-seeing, but appa-
rently passive eye, of the settler in the fork of the Ala-
bama and Tombeckbee, upon the Tensaw, or about
THE CANOE FIGHT. 297
Fort St. Stephens, would have spoken much of the
moral energies and purposes of the man. Of such an
order were most of those who determined to avenge
the butchery of their neighbors, by Weatherford, at
Fort Mims.
But before proceeding to narrate the particulars of
the Canoe Fight, we will look at the situation of the
settlements in the interior of Alabama, more immedi-
ately connected with that event, and narrate some of
the more interesting incidents in their history, which
led to the singular and sanguinary occurrence. They
are in themselves sufficiently romantic to attract and
repay perusal.
The extensive delta, forming Clarke County, was
originally obtained from the Choctaws, by the British,
under a treaty made at Mobile, the 26th of March, 1765.
The boundary of the entire British acquisitions in West
Florida was then designated as follows : " by a line
extended from G-rosse Point, in the island of Mon
Louis, by the course of the western coast of Mobile Bay,
to the mouth of the eastern branch of Tombeckbee
Kiver, and north, by the course of the said river, to the
confluence of Alebamont and Tombeckbee Rivers, and
afterwards along the western bank of Alebamont River
to the mouth of Chickasaw River, and from the con-
fluence of Chickasaw and Alebamont Rivers, a straight
line to the confluence of Bance and Tombeckbee Rivers ;
from thence, by a line along the western bank of Bance
River, till its confluence with the Tallotkpe River ;
from thence, by a straight line, to Tombeckbee River,
opposite to Alchalickpe ; and from Alchalickpe, by a
298 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
straight line, to the most northerly part of Buckatanne
River, and down the course of Bnckatanne Kiver to its
confluence to the Kiver Pascagoula, and down by the
course of the River Pascagoula, within twelve leagues
of the sea coast ; and thence, by a due west line, as far
as the Choctaw nation have a right to grant."
This treaty was signed by George Johnstone,
Governor of West Florida, John Stewart, Superinten-
dent of the Southern District, and twenty-nine Kings
and Chiefs of Indians. * It is now mainly interesting
as preserving the names by which several of our prin-
cipal rivers were aboriginally known. The Alabama
below the junction was called the Tombeckbee ; the
Cahaba was styled the Chickasaw, and the Black
Warrior the Bance. The Choctaws, also, claimed
much farther to the east than was then or subsequently
recognized by the Creeks.
But few white men penetrated into this region dur-
ing the British and Spanish times, and when the
Americans began to take possession, about the com-
mencement of the present century, they had to deter-
mine a new line with the conflicting Indian claimants.
This was done in a treaty, made by Silas Dinsmoor and
James Robertson, U. S. Commissioners, at Mount
Dexter, in November, 1805. The new boundary of
the white possessions was a line running north from
Nanahubba, or the Cut-OrT Island, along the dividing
ridge between the Alabama and Tombeckbee waters, to
the " Choctaw Corner/' and thence westwardly to the
mouth of Fluctabunna Creek on the Tombeckbee.
* American State Papers. Public Lands, v. 814.
THE CANOE FIGHT. 299
Within the diminished area, thus acquired, emi-
grants, from South Carolina, Georgia, and Tennessee,
poured rapidly for the first twelve years of the present
century. These were the people destined to encounter
the savage hostilities of the Creeks, after the Fall of
Fort Mims, and whose characteristics have been de-
scribed. Those nearest the border speedily erected
stockade defences, and took refuge in them, with their
families, servants, and moveable chattels and effects.
Fort Sinquefield was erected a short distance north-
east of Grove Hill, the present Court House of Clarke
county ; Fort White, some miles west of it ; and Fort
Glass, fifteen miles to the south, upon the dividing
ridge between Cedar and Bassett's Creeks, and about
three miles south from the present village of Suggs-
ville. They received their names from the settlers
upon whose premises they were established, and were
densely crowded by the terrified inhabitants.
Around these border forts or stations, the hostile
Indians were continually prowling, — burning and lay-
ing waste the farms, killing the cattle, and murdering
every white person they could meet. The utmost
terror and insecurity prevailed.
To give protection to these settlements, General
Floyd, of Georgia, then in command of the South-
western forces of the United States, ordered General
Claiborne, in July, 1813, to march his command of
Mississippi Twelve-months' Volunteers, to Fort Stod-
dart, and thence to yield assistance to the most ex-
posed points to the east. At the close of that month, he
arrived with seven hundred men, and sent two hundred
300 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
of them under Col. Joseph E. Carson, a gallant volun-
teer, who lived near Mount Vernon, to the relief of
Fort Glass, which he rebuilt near by and called Fort
Madison in honor of the President. The refugee
settlers in this station were under the conrmand of
Captain Evan Austill, a native of North Carolina,
who had emigrated to this section, the year before,
and located on a farm three miles from the fort.
Within two days after the massacre at Fort Mims,
a large body of warriors, under Francis, the Prophet,
appeared in the vicinity of Fort Sinquefield, the most
exposed station, and massacred twelve members of the
families of Abner James and Kansom Kimball, who
rashly remained at the residence of the latter, two
miles from the fort. Five persons escaped, one of
whom was Isham Kimball, then a boy of sixteen, af-
terwards Clerk of the Circuit Court of Clarke County,
where he still resides. Another was Mrs. Sarah Merrill,
a married daughter of Abner James, who was destined
to have a romantic history. She was knocked down
by the Indians, scalped and left for dead. In the
night, she revived, and, groping among the corpses,
found her infant son, not a year old, who was also
scalped, and apparently lifeless. With the utmost
exertion, she made her way to the Fort, where she and
her infant were gradually restored to health. Her
husband was at this time absent, with the troops under
Claiborne, and, on the march to the Holy Ground,
heard that his wife and children were both slain. In
the Battle at that place, he was severely wounded
THE CANOE FIGHT. 301
and reported as dead ; but recovering, made his way to
Tennessee.
Each party thus believing the other dead, Mrs.
Merrill, some years after, married, and became the
mother of a large family, residing in Clarke County,
near the Choctaw Corner. She was happy, and some
of her children had grown to maturity, when one
evening a traveler with his family, a matronly wife
and several children, stopped at the house of Mrs.
Merrill. Great was her astonishment and consterna-
tion to find in the stranger her first husband ; and his,
none the less, to recognize his former wife. An expla-
nation ensued, and, to the satisfaction of all parties, it
was agreed that matters should remain as they had
been providentially disposed. The traveler went on
his way to Texas, and Mrs. Merrill continues to reside
in Clarke, esteemed and respected by all who know
her.
The news of the massacre of these families, reaching
Fort Madison, a detachment of ten men, among
whom were James Smith, John Wood, and Isaac Ha-
den, were sent to the spot. They found the bodies of
the dead, and took them to Sinquefield for burial.
While the whole garrison of that little station, includ-
ing the women and children, were outside of the fort,
engaged in this ceremony, Francis and his warriors sud-
denly rushed down towards them from behind a neigh-
boring hill. All escaped in safety to the fort, except a
few women who had gone some distance to a spring.
Seeing the Indians about to intercept these, Haden,
who happened to be on horse-back, with a large pack of
302 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
dogs, which he kept for hunting, immediately dashed
forward, and cheered his dogs, with many others from
the fort, numbering in all about sixty, to an assault
upon the savages. Never did a pack of English hounds
leap more furiously upon a captured fox, than did
these wild curs upon the naked Indians. The neces-
sity of defence against their strange foes, checked the
savage onset, and all the women, but one, a Mrs. Phil-
lips, who was overtaken and scalped, escaped with
Haden into the fort. His horse was killed under him,
and he had five bullets through his clothes, but re-
ceived no wound.
The incensed Francis and his followers now made
a furious attack upon the fort, but were repulsed with
a considerable loss. Only one man and a boy of the
defenders were slain. The Indians, having drawn off,
the occupants of Sinquefield that night stealthily aban-
doned the place and fled to Fort Madison.
Meanwhile, Col. Carson had despatched Jerry Au-
stin, a youth of nineteen, to Gen. Claiborne, at Fort
Stoddart, for aid to drive away the Indians, who had
killed one of his men, named Stewart, within five hun-
dred yards of the gate. The youthful emissary trav-
eled through the woods all night, and reached the
General at day-break, greatly to his surprise and ad-
miration. No assistance, however, could be sent, and
Austill bore back an order to Carson to evacuate his
defences and retire, with the inhabitants, to St.
Stephens.
This order produced the greatest dissatisfaction, and
Captain Evan Austill, the father of our young hero,
THE CANOE FIGHT. 303
and fifty other men, with their families, determined to
remain. Four hundred persons left with Carson's
command, amid a scene of great distress and lamenta-
tion at the separation of friends and relatives, who
never expected to meet again. The little garrison re-
maining behind, protected themselves with the utmost
vigilance, until at length Clairborne again despatched
Carson's command to re-possess the fort.
During the occupation of Fort Madison, frequent
parties of the more adventurous woodsmen made scout-
ing excursions into the surrounding country, to watch
the proceedings of the Indians. One of these advanced
across the Alabama, as far as the destroyed residence
of Cornells on Burnt Corn Creek, at the crossing of
the Pensacola road. This party consisted of Tandy
Walker, formerly the Government blacksmith at St.
Stephens, but a most experienced and daring back-
woodsman ; George Foster, an expert hunter ; and a
bold quadroon mulatto, named Evans. When near
the place, Evans dismounted, and, leaving his horse
with his companions, stealthily approached to make
observations. In a field, he saw an Indian, at a short
distance, digging potatoes. He at once shot him, and,
after some minutes, not seeing any other Indians, he
entered the field and took the scalp of his victim.
Keturning to his companions, they examined the
premises and found, on the opposite side of the field,
the camp and baggage of a considerable party of Indians
who had fled at the sound of Evans' gun. With this
booty, the three adventurers now hastened towards the
Alabama. At Sizemore's deserted old place, near the
304 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
river, they found a field of corn nearly ripe, with a
plenty of fine grass. Though they saw many fresh
moccasin tracks and other signs of Indians, they deter-
mined to stop here to feed their horses and to pass the
night. They accordingly went a short distance into
the field, and, as it was a cool November evening,
kindled a small fire and laid down to sleep. In the
night, Foster had a strange and alarming dream, or
" vision," as he termed it, which awoke him and filled
him with aprjrehension. Arousing his comrades, and
telling his dream, he urged them to leave the spot,
as he felt they were in danger there from the Indians.
They made light of his fears, and lapsed back into
slumber. He however arose, and going still farther
into the field, threw himself down in the high grass,
and went to sleep. At the dawn of day, he was roused
by a volley of guns fired upon his companions, and fled
with all haste into a neighboring cane-brake, through
which he made his way to the river, and swimming it,
safely reached the fort.
After two days Tandy Walker came in, severely
wounded, — his arm being broken by several balls, and his
side badly bruised by a ball which struck a butcher-
knife in his belt. It appeared that the Indians had waited
until the first faint light of day to make their attack.
They then fired some five or six guns and rushed for-
ward with their knives. Evans was killed ; but Walker,
though wounded, sprang from the ground, and ran
through the corn and high grass. Being very swift of
foot, he outstripped his pursuers, and soon got into
the cane-brake, where he lay concealed till night,
THE CANOE FIGHT. 305
Buffering greatly from his wounds. Then he proceeded
to the river, and making a raft of canes, to which he
hung by his well arm, swam across the river. He was
so feeble from the loss of blood and from pain, that it
took him all that night and the next day to reach Fort
Madison.
Shortly before this occurrence, Col. Willian McGrew,
with twenty-five mounted men, had fought a battle
with a party of Indians, on Tallahatta or Barshi Creek,
near the northern boundary, in which he with three of
his company was killed ; and Gen. Claiborne, with a
small command of Mississippi volunteers, under Major
Hinds, had traversed the country as far as Baker's
Bluff, on the Alabama, losing in a skirmish Capt.
William Bradberry, a young lawyer, who had distin-
guished himself at Burnt Corn.
The inmates of Fort Madison, incensed at these san-
guinary events, and satisfied that the body of the hostile
Indians was now south of the Alabama, extending their
depredations upon the plantations along that river, de-
termined to make an expedition against them. This
was at once organized ; consisting of thirty " Mississippi
twelve-months' yauger men," commanded by Capt.
Bichard Jones, from near Natchez, where he now re-
sides, and forty- two volunteers, from the " settlers "
themselves, commanded by Capt. Samuel Dale, who
also had command of the expedition. A bolder or a
finer set of men, for such a service, never swung their
shot-bags by their sides, or grasped their long and
trusty rifles. It may be well to look particularly at
306 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
the character of three, who were destined to act the
most conspicuous part in the events that are to follow.
SAMUEL DALE.
Was there ever a more Herculean figure than
Samuel Dale, then in the noon and fulness of man-
hood ? He stood a giant among his fellows, — already
distinguished by feats of prowess, daring and enter-
prise, that had made his name known throughout the
frontiers, and caused him to be dreaded more than any
other white man by the Indians. They called him, in
their simple tongue, Sam Thlucco, or Big Sam.
Descended from Irish lineage, he was born in Rock-
bridge County, Virginia, in 1772. Twelve years after,
his parents removed to Green County, Georgia, then
on the border of the hostile Creeks. Here, among
continued troubles and bloody forays, he grew to man-
hood, the eldest of eight children, left orphans by the
death of both their parents. In 1794, he joined Capt.
Tosh's troop stationed at Fort Matthews on the
Oconee, and distinguished himself, in several encoun-
ters, for his courage, enterprise, and masterly knowledge
of Indian character. On one occasion, when out as a
solitary scout, at a great distance from the fort, he
stopped at a spring to drink, and, as he knelt down
for that purpose, two Muscogee warriors leaped from
behind a log and sprung upon him, with their knives
and tomahawks. Throwing one of them over his head,
he grappled with the other, and plunged his knife in
Irs body. Both of them now closed, but Dale, by his
THE CANOE FIGHT. 307
great strength and dexterity, in a few seconds laid them
dead at his feet. Though wounded himself in five
places, he retraced their trail nine miles, to their camp,
where he saw three warriors asleep, with a white female
prisoner. Rushing suddenly upon them he slew them
all, and turning, had just cut the thongs of the woman,
when a fourth warrior sprang from behind a tree, knife
in hand, upon the bent body of the wounded and ex-
hausted Dale, and brought him to the ground. With
a wild scream of vengeance, the savage swung aloft his
knife to give the deadly blow, when the woman, who
had seized a tomahawk, dashed it into his head, and
he fell lifeless upon the body of her preserver. They
then safely proceeded to Fort Matthews.
Elected Colonel, Dale was advanced to the com-
mand of a frontier post on the Apalachy, where he
made himself the terror of the Red Men, and the
shield of the settlements, till McGillivray concluded
peace with Washington at New York.
Frontier tastes and aptitudes now converted the
young soldier into an Indian trader, and we find him
among the Cherokees and Creeks, exchanging calicoes,
gewgaws, ammunition, fire-waters, &c, brought from
Savannah and Augusta, for peltries and ponies. The
profits of this trade were exorbitant, and would have
enriched Dale, but he was as thriftless as he was ad-
venturous and brave.
Desirous of becoming acquainted with the settle-
ments upon the Tombeckbee, Big Sam made his way
thither about the year 1808, accompanied by a party
of emigrants, among whom was his younger brother,
308 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
James Dale, like himself a bold and powerful man,
but who had been unfortunately wounded in one of
the knees, so that a contraction of the muscle took
place, making one leg two or three inches shorter than
the other.
A series of expeditions to and from Georgia, in which
he acted as guide for travelers and emigrating parties,
with occasional protracted loiterings in the Indian
villages, taking part in their athletic sports and games,
and surpassing their swiftest and most powerful cham-
pions, now engaged our hero for a number of years.
He also acted as a spy for our government, upon the
operations of the Spaniards at Pensacola and Mobile,
who, at the instigation of the British, were constantly
exciting the Indians to hostility. In this capacity, he
was greatly useful in counteracting the schemes of a
notorious English emissary named Elliott, who was
most energetic in fomenting discord. He also encoun-
tered Tecumseh, in the Tuckabatchee towns on the
Tallapoosa, and first apprised the incredulous Hawkins,
the United States agent, of the schemes of that bold
and ambitious chieftain.
Dale was at the house of Colonel Joseph Phillips, at
Jackson, on theTombeckbee, in July, 1813, when James
Cornells, mounted on a fast-flying grey horse, brought
the intelligence that a large body of hostile warriors
from the towns on the Tallapoosa, had burnt his house
and corn-cribs, at a creek, afterwards called Burnt
Corn, from that event, and ta,ken his wife prisoner to
Pensacola, where they had gone to receive arms and
ammunition from the Spaniards and British. The
THE CANOE FIGHT. 309
startled settlements at once sprung to arms, and marched
under Col. James Callier, to cut off the Indians on
their return. In this expedition, Dale was Captain of
the company from Clarke county. The unfortunate
result of the battle is narrated elsewhere. But Dale
performed miracles of valor, and was one of the last to
leave the field, which he did not do until he received a
severe wound in the breast, from a rifle ball, which
glanced around a rib and came out at his back. For
several weeks he suffered greatly from this wound, but
at length fully recovered so as to take part in the expe-
dition we are proceeding to describe.
JAMES SMITH.
In Dale's command was a private soldier, who al-
ready had a high reputation as an expert, daring, and
powerful Indian fighter. Born in Georgia, in 1787,
this scion of the universal Smith family was now a very
stout, finely proportioned man, five feet eight inches
high, weighing one hundred and sixty pounds. Ke-
siding near Fort Madison, he took refuge there at the
outbreak of the war. His fearless and adventurous
character may be indicated by an incident. One day
he determined to visit his farm, about eight miles dis-
tant, to see what injury the Indians had done. Pro-
ceeding cautiously, he came to a house in which he .
heard a noise, and, stealing up to the door, he found
two Indians engaged in bundling up tools and other
articles, to carry them off. Leveling his gun at them ?
he made them come out of the house, and march be-
310 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
fore him towards the Fort. In a thicket of woods, the
Indians suddenly separated, one on each hand, and ran.
Smith fired at one of them and killed him, and, drop-
ping his rifle, pursued the other, and, catching him,
knocked him down with a light wood-knot, and beat
out his brains. Recovering his gun, he went on to
the Fort, and announced the adventure, which a par-
ty, who were sent out, discovered to be true.
This, and similar deeds of daring and prowess, gave
James Smith a high position among his frontier friends
and neighbors, as he took his place, rifle in hand, with
buckskin garb, in the ranks of Captain Dale's adven-
turous volunteers.
JEREMIAH AUSTILL.
That tall, slender, sinewy youth of nineteen, six
feet two inches high, erect and sprinted in port, dark
complexioned, eagle-eyed, is the son of a gallant sire,
who, even since hostilities commenced, had made his
way back from Georgia, through the heart of the Creek
nation, swimming the streams, and stealing through
the woods, to his family, in Fort Madison, there to as-
assume, by election, the temporary command. Such
was Evan Austill, a native of North Carolina, and the
son was worthy of the sire. " Jerry" was born in
Pendleton District, South Carolina, the 10th of Au-
gust, 1794. Four years after, his father went as a
gunsmith, with Silas Dinsmore, the agent to the Cher-
okees, to reside in the nation. In 1813, the family
removed to the vicinity of Fort Madison. Driven
THE CANOE FIGHT. 311
from their residence by the Indians, during the absence
of his father, young Austill returned to the spot, put
up the fences, and kept a close guard, lying at night
in the grass, or thick undergrowth near the farm, to
protect the growing crop from the depredations of
straggling Indians.
We have seen how he was sent, soon after, for as-
sistance to General Claiborne, and how gallantly he
performed that hazardous service. On one occasion
he was dispatched with a party of five, to guard a
wagon to a mill for meal. On their return, a fire
was opened on a party of Indians, from the opposite
side of the fort, at which all of the guard, save Austill,
immediately fled from the wagon. With character-
istic firmness and fidelity, he remained, and no assault
being made, drove the wagon, with its precious con-
tents, in safety to the fort, amidst the applause of the
garrison, who derided his timid companions.
" Jerry," was now very little more than a boy in
age, but his skill as a marksman, his swiftness of foot,
his dauntless courage, and his deep knowledge of In-
dian schemes and cunning, acquired among the
Cherokees, render him one of the most useful
and manly of the frontier defenders. We have
said that he was slender, but look, at his muscular
limbs, as revealed through his hunting shirt closely
girdled around his waist, and his tight leather leggings,
and you may appreciate that his frame, weighing as
it did one hundred and seventy pounds, is possessed of
all those powers which are most serviceable in the
hardships and encounters of backwoods warfare.
312 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
These three, Dale, Smith and Austill, were the
leading spirits in the expedition, fitted out under the
command of Dale, for the exploration of the country
along the Alabama River. The party left Fort Mad-
ison on the 11th of November, 1813. It proceeded
southeasterly, under the guidance of Tandy Walker
and George Foster, of whom we have spoken, to a point
on the river, two miles below " Bailey's Shoals," and
about eighteen miles below the present town of Clai-
borne. Here they found two canoes, carefully con-
cealed in the inlet of a small creek, in which the
entire party crossed to the eastern bank, and passed
the night in concealment and under arms, no one be-
ing allowed to sleep. They were at this point with-
in thirty miles of the ruins of Fort Minis.
The next morning the party ascended the river ;
Austill with six men in the canoes ; and Dale, with
the remainder, through the woods upon the eastern
bank. No signs of Indians were discovered until
their arrival at " Peggy Bailey's Bluff, " three miles
above. Pursuing these, which led up the river, Dale,
being in advance of his men, soon came upon a party
of ten Indians, who were, with all imaginary security,
partaking of a bountiful breakfast. His unfailing
rifle dismissed them without a benediction ; the chief,
a noted warrior, being slain, and his followers, in their
hurried flight, leaving their well-stored pack of pro-
visions behind them.
One mile higher up the stream Dale's party came
to a field known as Randon's farm. This was a few
miles below Claiborne and one hundred and five miles,
THE CANOE FIGHT. 313
by the course of the river, ^above Mobile. Here, upon
consultation with Austill, it was concluded that the
main party should re-cross the river to its western
bank. For this pnrpose the canoes were put in
requisition, and the men were cautiously and with as
much swiftness as possible conveyed across the stream.
The river, at this point, was about four hundred
yards wide. Its banks were irregular, somewhat pre-
cipitous, and covered with beech, pine, and sycamore
trees, with a thick undergrowth of cane, vines, and
luxuriant shrubbery. The eastern shore, which the
party were now gradually leaving, sloped away into
two embankments, one rising above the other with
considerable abruptness, and then spreading out into
the field of which we have spoken.
While the conveyance of the men across the river
was progressing, Dale, with Austill, James Smith,
G-. W. Creagh, and a few others, determined to par-
take of the provisions they had found in the Indian
pack. In the old field, on the second bank, they
kindled a fire for the purpose of cooking these, and
were about, . in the language of Dale himself, " to
make use of the hriled bones, and hot ash-cake, ,:
when they were startled by the discharge of several
rifles, and the sudden war-whoops of some twenty-five
or thirty Indians, who came rushing towards them
from three sides of the field. Dale's party immedi-
ately seizing their rifles, and being too few to oppose
the force of the enemy, dashed down the second or
upper bank of the river, and took post among the trees,
whence they kept in check the approach of the savages.
314 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
By this time the canoes had conveyed all but twelve
of the entire force to the opposite side of the river,
and one canoe alone had returned for the residue.
This was the first thought of the little party, who
were now hemmed by the Indians. But simultaneously
with the attack by land, a large canoe, containing
eleven warriors, had issued from a bend in the river
above, and descended rapidly with the evident design
of intercepting communication with the opposite shore.
They now attempted to aj^proach the shore, and join
in the attack, but were kept at a distance by the well-
directed fire of a few of Dale's men. Two of their
number however leaped into the river, and swam, with
their rifles above their heads, for the bank, just above
the mouth of a little creek, near the northern corner of
the field. One of these, as he approached the shore,
was shot by Smith; but Austill, in attempting to
intercept the other, was thrown by the under-wood,
and rolled into the water within a few feet of his
antagonist. The Indian reached the shore, and ran
up the bank. Austill, in pursuing him, through the
cane, was fired at, in mistake for an Indian, by Creagh,
and narrowly escaped.
During this bye-scene, Dale and the other eight of
his valiant companions were interchanging hot fires
with the enemy. Those in the canoe sheltered them-
selves by lying in its bottom, and firing over the sides.
The party on shore were deterred from pressing closely
by an ignorance of the number of Dale's forces. This
cause alone saved them from certain destruction. But
the circumstances were now growing more critical.
THE CANOE FIGHT. 315
Soon the Indians must discover the weakness of their
opponents, and rush forward with irresistible superi-
ority. A more perilous position can scarcely be imag-
ined : and yet there was one in this contest !
Dale, seeing the superiority of the enemy, called
out to his comrades on the opposite shore for assistance.
They had remained, thus far, inefficient, but excited
spectators of the scene. But now eight of their number
leaped into their canoe, and bore out towards the enemy.
Upon approaching near enough, however, to discover
the number of the Indians, the man in the bow, be-
coming alarmed at the superiority of the foe, ordered
the paddles to " back water," and they returned to
land ! Dale, indignant at this cowardice, demanded
of his men, who would join him in an attack upon the
Indian canoe ? Austill and Smith immediately vol-
unteered ; and with a negro, as steersman, named
Caesar, the little party embarked for the dreadful en-
counter. As they approached, one of the Indians
fired without effect. When within thirty feet, Smith
fired and probably wounded an Indian, whose shoulder
was visible above the canoe. Dale and Austill at-
tempted to fire, but their priming having been wet,
their guns could not be discharged. Fortunately the
Indians had exhausted their powder. The white party
now bore down, in silence, upon the foe. As the boats
came in contact at the bows, the Indians all leaped to
their feet. Austill was in front, and bore for a mo-
ment the brunt of the battle. But, by the order of
Dale, the negro swayed round the canoe, and " Big
Sam" leaped into the enemy's boat, giving more room
316 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
to Smith and Austill, and pressing together the In-
dians, who were already too crowded. The negro oc-
cupied his time in holding the canoes together. The
rifles of both parties were now used as clubs ; and
dreadful were the blows both given and taken ; for
three stouter or more gallant men than these assail-
ants never took part in a crowded melee. The details
of the struggle can scarcely be given. Dale's second
blow broke the barrel of his gun, which he then ex-
changed for Smith's, and so fought till the end of the
scene. Austill was, at one time, prostrated by a blow
from a war-club ; fell into the Indian canoe, between
two of the enemy, and was about being slain by his
assailant, when the latter was fortunately put to death
by Smith. Austill rose, grappling with an Indian,
wrested his war club from him, struck him over the
►skull, and he fell dead in the river. The last surviv-
ing Indian had been before the war, a particular friend
of Dale's. They had hunted together long and fami-
liarly, and were alike distinguished for their excellence
in those vigorous sports, so much prized by the man
of the woods. The young Muscogee was regarded as
one of the most chivalrous warriors of his tribe. Dale
would always say, when, long subsequently, he narra-
ted these circumstances, and he never did so without
weeping, — that he " loved that Indian like a brother,
and wanted to save him from the fate of the others."
But the eye of the young warrior was filled with fire ;
he leaped before his opponent with a proud fury ;
cried out, in Muscogee, " Sam Thlucco, you're a man,
and I am another ! Now for it !" — and grappled in
THE CANOE FIGHT. 317
deadly conflict. The white man proved the victor.
With one blow of his rifle he crushed the skull of the
Indian. The young brave, still holding his gun firmly
in his hands, fell backwards into the water ; and the
Canoe fight was over.
The victors now employed themselves in clearing the
canoes of the dead bodies of the Indians. The only
weapons left, of either party, were a war-club and rifle.
The Indians upon the shore had, during the progress
of the fight, kept up a constant fire with the party on
land. They now directed many shots at the canoes,
as they approached the shore. One ball passed be»
tween Smith and Austill, and another struck one of
the canoes. But, in spite of this firing, Dale and his
colleagues returned to the shore, took off their friends
in safety, and passed across the river triumphantly.
Notwithstanding the dangers they had encountered,
the whole party had not lost one man, and the only
injuries they had suffered, were some severe bruises
received by the combatants on the water. Austill had
a severe contusion on the top of the head, which left
a permanent dint in the skull. It was subsequently
ascertained that the entire Indian force, on land and
water, was two hundred and eighty.
Such, in its details, was the Canoe Fight,— certainly
the most remarkable of our naval engagements.
Neither Porter at Valparaiso, nor Perry on Lake Erie,
displayed more reckless courage, or indomitable forti-
tude, than did these backwoodsmen of Alabama. The
difference, as far as personal achievement, is all in fa-
vor of the latter. The statements made may be relied
318 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
on as strictly true. They are collated from accounts
given by the actors themselves ; and the events were
witnessed by many who are still living to attest their
truth.
Brightly shone the eyes of the anxious occupants of
Fort Madison, when, on the very evening of this
bloody engagement, Dale and his gallant comrades, by
a forced march of twelve miles, returned to that place.
Loud were the plaudits of all, and aged gossip and
prattling child learned to utter the names of the Heroes
of the Canoe Fight with admiration and pride.
The war went on, with many stirring adventures and
bloody incidents ; but these we cannot now enumerate,
except casually, in connection with the biographies of
Dale, Smith, and Austill. They each marched with
Gen. Claiborne in his expedition to the Holy Ground,
and acted conspicuous parts in the battle there fought,
on the 23d of December, 1813. Austill, in particular,
distinguished himself, by crossing the river in a canoe,
with Pushmataha, the great Choctaw chief, and six
warriors, in front of the enemy's fire, putting a large
party to flight, and capturing a considerable quantity
of baggage and provisions.
The army having returned to Fort Claiborne, the
volunteers and militia were disbanded, as their time
of service had expired, and returned home, leaving only
a small force of regulars under Col. Gilbert C. Eus-
sell, at that place. The troops, however, from
along the Tombeckbee, and the fork of the rivers,
were not willing to leave the frontiers thus poorly de-
fended, and they accordingly formed a force of volun-
THE CANOE FIGHT 319
teers, under Colonel Joseph E. Carson, with Keuben
Saffold, Charles Devereaux, John Wells, and Mc-
Farland,as Captains; Smith and Austill were Sergeants
in this command, which acted as rangers from Claiborne
to the Gulf, and frequently encountered parties of In-
dians, and killed many of them.
After the conclusion of the war, Dale became an
agent of Gen. Jackson and the other American officers
in command at Forts Claiborne and Montgomery and
at Mobile, to watch the proceedings of the British and
Spaniards at Pensacola, performing many hazardous
enterprises, and mainly communicating the intelligence
which led to the seizure of that post— bearing him-
self a part in its assault and capture.
Smith and Austill lapsed back into private life,—
resuming agricultural pursuits in Clarke County, which
they had so gallantly defended. Smith, in a few years,
removed to eastern Mississippi and there died, respected
for his sterling qualities of character.
Austill removed to Mobile, and engaged in commer-
cial pursuits, greatly esteemed for his intelligence,
integrity, and energy of character. For one session he
has served in the State Legislature. At the present
time (1857) he partly divides his time with agricultural
pursuits in Clarke, and is in the enjoyment of vigorous
health, looking many years younger than he really is.
The career of Samuel Dale was more conspicuous
than that of his two associates in the Canoe Fight,
In 1817, the people of Monroe, then a rich and flour-
ishing county, chose him Tax Collector ; but, by a fire,
he lost a portion of the funds in his hands, and be-
320 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
came a defaulter, in the sum of three hundred dollars.
This the Legislature in 1821, by an Act, exonerated
him from paying. His misfortunes drew attention to
his services, and at the same session an Act was
passed "expressing the gratitude of the State of
Alabama, for the services rendered by Samuel Dale."
It recapitulated, in a laudatory preamble, his pre-
eminent services during the war, and stated that he
had " exposed himself to privations, hardships and
difficulties that have impaired his constitution and re-
duced him to indigence :" also, that from a want of
sufficient vouchers, he had never received any com-
pensation from the General Government. It, therefore,
enacted that " the Treasurer be and he is hereby re-
quired to pay to the said Col. Samuel Dale, half the pay
now allowed by the General Government to Colonels
in the army of the United States. And that he is
hereby declared a Brevet Brigadier General, in the
militia of this State, and shall rank as such whenever
called into the service of this State. And the Gover-
nor is hereby required to commission him accordingly;
and that the Treasurer is authorized and required to
pay to said Brevet Brigadier General Samuel Dale,
on the first day of January, in each and every year,
the half-pay as aforesaid for and during his life, out of
any monies in the Treasury not otherwise appropriated."
This act, so creditable to the gratitude of our people,
was permitted to operate for two years, when, upon
some constitutional scruple, it was repealed, and a
memorial pressing Gen. Dale's claims on the General
Government was sent to Congress in the name of
THE CANOE FIGHT. 321
the State. It is an eloquent vindication of his right
to remuneration, and says, among other things, that
" during the war he frequently went on express with
dispatches from the armies in this country, to the State
of Georgia, through a hostile country of Indians, of
nearly three hundred miles, and almost every foot of
the journey, through the woods, and thereby rendering
services to our armies which no body else could be found
who would undertake or who would perforin. Com-
pensation in money, or by grant of lands in this State,
is earnestly besought."
To this appeal of the State of Alabama in behalf
of an old and indigent soldier, who, it was said, had,
" at the head of small parties, waged a gallant partisan
war, surpassed probably in no age or country, and
which will some day form an interesting page in
American History," — Congress continued to turn a deaf
ear, and, it is believed, he never received any assistance
from the Federal Government. He made several in-
effectual visits to Washington City for that purpose.
His fellow- citizens of Monroe County were, however,
more kind and considerate. Besides ministering to his
pecuniary wants, they elected him on several occasions
a member of the General Assembly. The State also
showed her honors for him by establishing a county
with "his name, in December, 1824. After a short
residence in Perry County, Gen. Dale, in 1835, removed
to Lauderdale County, Mississippi, and the next year
was elected to the Legislature of that State. He, how-
ever, had little taste for public life, and passed his time
chiefly on his farm, which was a favorite resort of white
322 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
visitors who loved to hear the old warrior recount his
adventures, and of a neighbouring band of Choctaws,
still lingering in the State, who also gazed with curi-
osity and admiration on " Big Sam," and partook of
his bounty always liberally bestowed.
On the twenty- third day of May, 1841, this old
hero, pioneer and guide closed his many fights, — pass-
ing through the last struggle with more calmness and
serenity than he had ever exhibited before. He died,
says a friend, with the fortitude of a soldier, and the
resignation of a christian. The day had been one of
cloud and tempest, but ended with a golden sunset :
no unfit type of a career of struggle and suffering,
brightened at the close by the purest consolations of
humanity. A Choctaw warrior stood, the next even-
ing, by his grave, and exclaimed in his rude vernacu-
lar : " Sleep here, Big Sam, but your spirit is now a
Brave and a Chieftain in the hunting-grounds of the
sky V
This rambling record here must end. We have
shown the condition and character of our earliest An-
glo-American population ; the Red Sea of trials and
sufferings through which they had to pass ; the fra-
gile bark that floated in triumph through the perils
of the tide ; and the heroic performances of the three
master spirits of the period. From such rude and
troublous beginnings, the present prosperous popula-
tion of Alabama, acquired the right to say, " Here we
rest !"
THE FAWN OF PASCAGOULA;
OR, THE
a
CHUMPA" GIRL OF MOBILE.
Shall I tell you a story of real life as romantic and
affecting as any you will find in fiction ? Well — lis-
ten ! Every citizen of Mobile is familiar with the sight
of the Indian girls who are in our streets in the winter.
With their little bundles of lightwood upon their backs,
they mark the advent of cold weather as regularly as
the mocking-bird and the cardinal chronicle the ap-
proach of Spring. They peddle their small parcels of
pine from door to door, and all are familiar with the
soft, quick, petitionary voice in which they exclaim
"cJiumpa," as they offer their cheap burdens -for sale.
These Indian girls, it is well known, belong to cer-
tain Choctaw families, who refused to emigrate with
their tribe beyond the Mississippi, and yet linger upon
their aboriginal hunting-grounds on the waters of the
Pearl and Pascagoula. Though they thus exhibit an
unconquerable attachment to their native soil, they
have yet refused to adopt the habits, language or pur-
324 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
suits of the whites by whom they are surrounded, and
are perversely indifferent to all the inducements of
civilization. They persist in leading a species of
savage gipsy life — the men sustaining themselves by
hunting, and the women, by vending whortle-berries,
and other wild fruits in the summer, and bundles of
pine in the winter. With these simple productions,
they visit Mobile semi-annually, and for the time
reside in the vicinity, in small huts or camps, con-
structed of bark, boards, or the limbs of trees. This
has been their custom from time immemorial, and it
yet continues.
These Indians are generally a miserable and ignorant
race, but with all their degradation, they possess some
of the virtues in a singular degree. The women are
proverbially chaste and modest, and, of all the young
girls that annually visit our city, none have been
known to depart from the paths of rectitude. A strong
interest therefore surrounds these simple daughters of
the woods, who resist all the blandishments of their
station, and pass unharmed through the streets of our
city. Many of them are quite handsome, and possess,
beneath their rustic garbs — the calico gown and the red
blanket — considerable graces of manner and appear-
ance. As they invariably refuse to talk English, very
little conversation can be had with them, and that only
in reference to the small bargains which they desire to
make. " Chumpa" and u picayune ," are almost the
only words which they employ in their intercourse with
our inhabitants. Still, they are not reserved in their
movements where they wish to make a bargain, and
THE FAWN OF PASCAGOULA. 325
enter the different houses of the city, stores, dwellings,
and offices, without ceremony, hesitation or announce-
ment. Who has not been startled many a morning, by
a voice, at the chamber-door, exclaiming "Chumpa?"
The stoical demeanor of these Choctaw maidens has
often led to the impression that they are destitute of
the natural sensibilities and sentiments of their sex.
They have bright, flashing eyes, well developed,
symmetrical and flexile forms, beautiful small hands
and feet, and show, in their love for brilliant articles
of dress, rings, beads, and other personal decorations,
the taste and vanity of their civilized sisters ; is it
possible that they are destitute of those delicate sym-
pathies and tender affections which have marked woman
in all other classes and conditions of life? This question
has doubtless suggested itself to many, as an interesting
problem of character. In one instance, at least, an
attempt — perhaps a heartless one — was made to solve
it, and it is to that the story which I have to tell refers.
It came to my knowledge in all its details, but I will
attempt to narrate it in such a manner as not to detain
the reader with particulars which he can imagine for
himself.
Among the Choctaw gipsies, who visited Mobile in
the winter of 1846, was one of unusual beauty and
attractiveness. Although scarcely developed into
womanhood — not more than seventeen " suns" having
kissed the rich bronze of her cheek — she was yet tall,
round-limbed, straight and graceful — a very model of
feminine form. Her features, more prominent and
regular than is usual with her tribe, were delicately
326 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
sculptured, and the erect attitude of her head, with
her large fawn-like eyes, and abundant coal-black hair,
always neatly plaited in massive folds, gave to her
appearance an air of superiority such as the youthful
Pocahontas is said to have possessed. Her dress was
extremely neat, though with a large number of silver
and wampum ornaments, and her small feet, which
any of the fair promenaders on Dauphin might have
envied, were invariably dressed in moccasins, orna-
mented in the most fanciful style with many colored
beads. As she walked about the streets of Mobile,
arrayed in this way, with her parcel of pine swung
across her shoulders, she attracted the attention of all
spectators, for her beauty, though she would hold con-
verse with none except in the few words, by which she
endeavored to dispose of her burden.
Much interest was naturally felt in this young girl,
and many efforts were made to learn something of her
character and history. Nothing further could be
gleaned, (and this was told by " Captain Billy/' a
drunken Choctaw, frequently seen, in garrulous moods,
in our streets,) than that she was the daughter of an
Indian Chief of much note, who died many years before,
leaving her, an only child, with her mother, in their
cabin on the Pascagoula. Her singular beauty had
made her quite a belle with the young Choctaw war-
riors, but she was very shy, and was called in the In-
dian tongue, The Wild Fawn of Pascagoula. She
supported her mother, who was very old, and herself,
by her traffic in berries and " lightwood." Her per-
sonal charms made her one of the most, successful
THE FAWN OF PASCAGOULA. 327
dealers in these articles, and every one, particularly the
young men of Mobile, were glad to give the preference
in their patronage to this young and attractive creature.
Many were the efforts made to gain her smiles, and
enlist her in conversation, but they were all in vain.
She would go her daily round, and enter with perfect
unreserve, the rooms or offices of her patrons, deposit
her little load of pine, receive her dime, and then
quickly retire with, the sticks in her hands, to procure
another parcel.
Things glided on in this way for some months, dur-
ing the winter of which I speak. At last an event oc-
curred, which tested the stoicism and character of the
young Fawn of Pascagoula. Among those whom she
daily supplied with lightwood, was a young lawyer,
residing in an office in the second story of a building
on one of our principal streets. Admiring the beauty
of this timid visitor, and feeling a strong interest in
her, he determined to see if he could not, by kindness
of manner, deferential notice, and elegant presents,
win the heart of this simple child of the woods.
Though his motive was mainly curiosity, his purposes
were not bad, and he had no idea of doing any injury to
the object of his experiment — by paying her those at-
tentions which had been found potent to enchain the
admiration, and win the love of more enlightened and
accomplished maidens. He was a man of uncommon
personal beauty, and singularly fascinating manners,
and all these he brought to bear, as well as he could,
to effect -his innocent, and, as he thought, harmless
Hirtation.
328 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
It is needless to detail the arts resorted to by Henry
Howard to win the heart of the Fawn of Pascagoula.
He began in the most modest and deferential manner ;
he purchased from her, much more frequently than he
needed, supplies of fuel, paid her larger sums than she
asked, and made her presents of trinkets, pictures, and
little ornaments of dress, and accomodated himself in
every way to her apparent wishes. These things con-
tinued for some weeks, and at last began to have obvi-
ous effects. The Fawn tarried longer in her visits at
his office than elsewhere ; she always came there first,
and took an evident interest in his attentions. At
length she began to answer his remarks in such few
words of English as she could command, and to look
upon his handsome and fascinating countenance with
pleased smiles and earnest continued attention. The
spell evidently began to work! Henry Howard un-
derstood the secrets of woman's heart well ; but here
he had to deal with an untutored Indian girl, timid as a
bird, and whose springs of emotion and sympathy could
not be determined by the ordinary standards of feeling.
Do not think that I am depicting those subtle arts
of fascination by which the rattle-snake lures and
captivates the humming-bird. There was no purpose
of evil in the heart of the young attorney. He was
but practising, with a simple savage heart, those tricks
and elegancies of intercourse, which are recognized as
legitimate in civilized society. He wished to see if
the same affections could be developed in the beaded
beauty of the forest, as are to be found with the pol-
ished belle of the ball-room and the boudoir. The
THE FAWN OF PASCAGOULA. 329
probabilities were, that the experiment would not
succeed — a casuist would therefore think it harmless.
Months had passed in this way, and Henry Howard
at last determined to make a more obvious demonstra-
tion of his love, to the Fawn of Pascagoula. One
cold morning in February, just as he had finished his
toilet, he heard a light step at the door, and a welt-
known voice, as the speaker entered, playfully ex-
claiming "chumpa, chumpa!" Arrayed in her most
beautiful dress,with a band of silver around her hair, and
long necklaces of beads falling from her graceful neck,
the Fawn stood before him. She threw her armful of
pine upon the hearth, and looked smiling into his face.
In his most graceful manner he approached her and
took her hand in his. Suddenly he encircled her waist
with his arm, and, drawing her to him he imprinted
upon her lips, a long and fervent kiss. Modestly she
looked into his face, with a slight expression of sur-
prise, but not dissatisfaction ; and then he poured
forth to her warm and. urgent words of love. Neither
were these coldly spoken, for the young and ardent ad-
mirer had been no little interested in the object of his
attentions. As he was about, however, to repeat his
kisses, the now startled Fawn, by a quick movement,
unloosed herself from his embraces, and glided across
the room.
" Stand off, Mr. Howard," she exclaimed in better
English than he had ever heard her speak before, " Me
good friend to kind gentleman — but no love ! The
Fawn must many her own people. She love young
warrior up on Pascagoula ! He have heart and skin
330 SKETCHES AND ESSAYS.
the same color ! Mobile man not good for Choctaw
girl. Me go to my home — to Choctaw Chiefs cabin —
to morrow. Good-by ! Me love you much, — you so
kind, — but no wife ! "
As she said this, she drew her red blanket as proudly
about her, as ever a fashionable belle donned her
mantilla at a ball, and glided from the door. Struck
as motionless as a statue, the elegant Henry Howard,
the Mobile dandy, stood gazing at the door through
which the young Choctaw girl had vanished ! His lips
were slightly parted, his eyes widely open, — a look of
wonder and doubt upon his handsome face !
■" By heavens !" he exclaimed, " Is it possible I
Caught in my own trap ! Jilted by an Indian !
Well ! it's a good joke, and all right ! But, by Te-
cumseh and Pushmataha ! I must take care that the
belles of Mobile do not find out the story. Let who
will hereafter experiment upon Choctaw character, to
discover whether these Chumpa-girls have not like
affections with other people, I, for one, am satisfied.
This Fawn of Pascagoula has for months taken all
my presents and delicate attentions with the timid
gentleness of a nun, and now has given me the sack as
completely as it could have been done by any fashion-
able coquette in a gilded saloon, by the light of a chan-
delier. Well, that's something rich ! Bravo ! Henry
Howard ! Becollect hereafter, as Tom Moore says :
1 What'er her lot, she'll have her will,
And Woman, will be Woman still.' "
THE END,
