Part 26

Though the trees were budding, and the young leaves were peeping from their coverts, there came on one of the last nights in March, one of those cold snaps to which this latitude is subject. A cold wind roared from the north, and furiously soughed through the trees. In its suddenness, the Spaniards made unusual preparation for comfort that night, and huddled together on their bunks of straw and dried leaves. The camp was as silent as a cemetery, save the howling of the wind. The fires died down, and the men were fast asleep. Suddenly there came a din of confusion rarely heard, mingled with the howling of the wind. From four different quarters came the sound of the beating of wooden drums, the hoarse notes of sea shells, and the unearthly shrieks of thousands of warriors. When the sleepers awoke, the roofs of dry hay were afire, and the Indians were already in the camp. They had wisely chosen that terrible night for the extinction of the invaders, and on nothing less were they bent. The Spaniards had often had recourse to fire, and the Indians thought they would test its virtue. Fire-tipped arrows, shot into the straw-thatched roofs had fired them, while the dry wattled cane of which the huts were built, lent loud detonations by the explosion of their joints. The fire-tipped arrows, DeSoto later learned, was by the use of a decoction from certain herbs known only to these Indians as a means of occasioning fire.

Springing from his couch, DeSoto was the first to gain his horse, and a cavalier mounted his own at the same moment. With sword and lance, they spurred their horses into the midst of the host of savages, dealing death with every movement. Half-dressed, the other troopers followed in quick succession, and soon the camp was the scene of a hand-to-hand fight. DeSoto had failed to fasten the girth of his saddle sufficiently, and by a sudden turn of his horse in one of his desperate sallies, he was thrown hard to the ground, just as he had laid an Indian low. He was speedily rescued by his men, and securing his girth, he fought as never before. While the fight was at its height, fifty of his men chose the moment as an opportune one to desert, but DeSoto had them brought back and join in the fray. The Indians were routed, but not till forty Spaniards had been killed. This had the effect of welding the Spaniards afresh, and ended all insubordination.

There was no more sleep in the Spanish camp that night. Moscoso was summoned, roundly abused, and cashiered in the presence of the troops, and Beltecar was appointed in his stead. After burying his dead, DeSoto set out on a renewed march, encountered resistance again at Alilome, where, after another fierce engagement, he routed the enemy, but lost fifteen more men, making in all three hundred and fifteen, of the six hundred, with whom he started, and in May, 1541, reached the Mississippi River, of which he is the reputed discoverer. Here he lingered a year, making an excursion into Arkansas, and on his return, was stricken with swamp fever. His system was ill prepared for this attack, and from the first, he was aware that he must die. He summoned his men about him, restored Moscoso to command, begged his men to be subject to the new commander, and yielded to the last foe--death.

To prevent the possible mutilation of his body, his men hewed out a coffin from the trunk of a huge oak, placed the body within it, sealed it securely and bore it to the middle of the deep Mississippi and lowered it in its current. Thus died this chivalrous son of Spain, and though a monster of cruelty, none in the annals of that ill-fated land was ever braver.

ORIGINAL MOBILE

Following the death of DeSoto, it was one hundred and sixty-two years before another white man was in Alabama. During this century and a half, there was developed such a spirit of exploration as the world had never before known. The new regions of the earth were visited by explorers from a number of European nations, chief among which were Spain, Portugal, France, England, and Holland. The French came to vie with the Spaniards in the comprehensiveness of expedition and exploration, and from Canada, the French found their way to the upper limits of the navigable waters of the Mississippi, and followed it to the gulf.

From their established possessions west of the great river, the French came later to skirt the upper waters of the gulf, and were much impressed by the sinuous character of the long shore front, with its numerous inlets and indentations, its promontories, bays, and rivers. It was by means like these that they first entered Mobile Bay, and finally came to found Mobile. Biloxi had previously been established, and was an important colonial center to the enterprising French of that period. In order to impress the native savage and ward off interference, the French would erect forts of mud, poles, and grass, which, while appearing formidable to the Indians, they were flimsy and frail. The savages themselves relied on their strong-timbered forts for defense, and they had an idea that those of the French were similarly strong.

Attracted by the beautiful sheet of water known to us as Mobile Bay, the French entered it from the gulf through its deep mouth, flanked on the one side by a long tongue of land, and on the other by an island. Once on the bosom of the bay, its shores were explored, and on the present location of Mobile was erected Fort St. Louis, which was intended as a permanent name, but Iberville, the great sea captain of the French, insisted on calling it Mobile, from the name of the tribe of Indians on the boundary of the territory of which the original fort was built. The name is supposed to mean "paddling."

From its inception, Mobile came to be to the French an important center. By nothing was Iberville more impressed than by the magnificent timbers with which the forests were stocked. Nothing was more important at that time than heavy oaken timber for ship building, and to the practical eye of the great navigator, it seemed an excellent place for the erection of a saw mill. Later developments of the geographical advantages of the location, led to its adoption as the headquarters and seat of government for this region of the French possessions. Seaward, it was open to the world as a port of navigation.

It was found that the river, on the west bank of which is the location, was like the base of the letter Y, with its prongs, fifty miles to the north, penetrating regions at great distances in the interior, which regions were already populous with Indians, and of fabulous fertility of soil. While, like the Spaniards, the French dreamed of mines of gold, they were not unmindful of the importance of colonization.

One of the first chief cares of these early colonizers was that of winning to their loyalty the native tribes, as an agency against the English, who were equally desirous of the possession of the fertile region. Bienville, the French governor of Louisiana, was ambitious to extend the dominions of his royal master as far eastward as possible, and vied with the English in seeking the alliance of the native tribes. From no point were these natives so easily reached, as from the fort just erected on the swell of land on the western side of this river pouring into the beautiful bay. Sufficient space was therefore at first cleared, a stockade was built, a few dingy tents were erected about it, while on the premises might have been seen a few specimens of imported swine, chickens, and horses moving domestically about.

There was, however, lacking one element of civilization, concerning which Bienville proceeded to make complaint to the home government at Paris. The improvised homes were minus the presence of the gentler sex. On receipt of this information, the King of France forthwith instructed the bishop of Quebec to send to the Mobile region twenty-three young women of good families, to become the wives of these original founders. In due time these twenty-three blushing maidens reached the fort under the care of four Sisters of Charity. Governor Bienville at once issued a proclamation announcing their arrival, and very practically proceeded to place a premium on manly worth, by stating that no man would be allowed to claim the heart and hand of these waiting damsels, who did not first prove himself capable of supporting a wife. The result was a rapid improvement of the manhood of the community, eventuating in another fact, namely, that not many moons waned before every one of the Canadian prospectives became a wife.

These were the first marriage rites, under Christian sanction, ever solemnized on the soil of Alabama. This meant homes, and homes meant the beginning of a new order of civilization. This romantic touch to our early civilization in Alabama is worthy of record.

From that primitive beginning in the wild woods of south Alabama, and from conditions as crude and uncanny as those named, our chief port had its beginning little more than two centuries ago. As a common center of importance, it was visited by numerous deputations of Indians, from points near and remote, skimming with their light canoes the deep waters of the Alabama and Tombigbee Rivers. While this was true, trade was established with the Spaniards as far south as Vera Cruz, and from the region of the great lakes of the north, came French traders to Mobile. While the conditions were such as to excite the most optimistic outlook, there were counter conditions of vexation and of perplexity. These early years were full of anxiety and harassment to Bienville. In his efforts to conciliate the native tribes, he encroached on the territory of the active emissaries of the English, as competitors of native alliance, and thus the Indian became a shuttle in the loom of primitive politics between the French and the English. The Indians were incited to lure the French into the interior by false representations, and straightway to massacre them. To question their statements, meant unfriendliness, to trust them, meant death. Abundant trouble was in store for the French governor in the immediate future.

FORT TOMBECKBE

Just above the point where the bridge of the Southern Railway spans the Tombigbee, at Epes station, in Sumter County, may be seen a clump of cedars on a high chalky bluff overlooking the river. This is a historic spot, for here Governor Bienville had built Fort Tombeckbe, as an outpost of civilization. The barest traces of the old fort are left in the slight mounds still to be seen, but it was at one time an important base to Bienville.

By tampering with the savages in the interior of Alabama, English emissaries had occasioned such confusion as to give to Bienville much annoyance. Whatever may be said of the conduct of England in this connection, and it was reprehensible enough, it was at par with that which was done by the French. Both nations took advantage of the untutored savage, and laid under requisition his worst passions, in order each to avenge itself on the other. On the part of England, however, this continued much later, and that nation was responsible for many of the atrocities perpetrated on Americans.

On one occasion, two artful warriors appeared at Mobile with every possible show of interest in the government of Bienville, and with extravagant asseverations of loyalty to his government. Bienville was responsive to demonstrations like this, for nothing he so much desired as the loyalty which these red men professed. These savages advised the French governor that they had carefully accumulated much corn at a given point up the river, and if he desired it, they were in position to sell it cheaply. As provisions were growing scarce at the fort, this was cheering news to Bienville, and he promptly sent five men from the garrison to fetch it. Only one of the five returned, and he with an arm almost cut from his shoulder, the rest of the party having been massacred. Bienville was at once impressed that it was necessary to teach the Indians that he was not to be trifled with, and taking forty men in seven canoes, he ascended the river to the scene of the late massacre. Finding ten empty Indian canoes tied to the bank, he knew that their settlement was not far distant, and from the smoke seen rising above the tree tops, he was able to locate the village. Hiding his men in the underbrush till night, he crept stealthily to the encampment and opened fire. The Indians were scattered in all directions, and loading his boats with provisions, Bienville leisurely returned to the fort. How many of the Indians were killed in this night attack, was not ascertained, but Bienville suffered the loss of three men. These offensive Indians were of the Alabamas, whom to punish more effectually, Bienville incited against them both the Choctaws and the Chickasaws, promising rewards to those who would kill the greater number. That the Alabamas were effectually punished, abundant proof was afforded by the numerous warriors who sought their way to Mobile to compare the number of scalps which they bore, dangling from their belts. Beads, hatchets, pipes, and ammunition were given the savages in reward for their work of death.

Fort Tombeckbe had been built at the point already designated, which was within the territory of the Choctaws, whose special service Bienville now needed, since the Chickasaws had revolted against him. Meantime they had also become most hostile toward the Choctaws, therefore Bienville concluded that their service could be the more readily enlisted in his proposed expedition against the Chickasaws. In order to subdue the hostile Chickasaws, Bienville proposed a unique expedition which he would head in person. The dominions of the Chickasaws were remote from Mobile, but he would make Fort Tombeckbe the base of his operations, while he would bring them again into subjection.

Accordingly Bienville summoned the garrisons from Natchez and Natchitoches to co-operate with the one at Mobile in the up-country expedition. As it was regarded as a sort of picnic outing, a company of volunteers, composed of citizens and merchants from New Orleans asked to join in the excursion. Everything was gotten in readiness. Thirty rough dugouts, and an equal number of flat boats or barges, were arranged along the shore ready to join in the diversion of subduing the Chickasaws. In due time, Governor Bienville appeared in gay uniform, plumed hat, and bright sword, and headed the expedition which sailed from Mobile on the morning of April 1, 1736. The day might have been taken as indicative of that which was to come, for never was a body of men more fooled than were these.

There were pomp and circumstance on this occasion. Banners, trappings, and bunting were galore. Boats, little and large, were well filled, men, young and old, business men and merchants, adventurers and gamblers, idlers and jail birds, men of fortune and men of leisure, rough mariners and veteran soldiers, friendly Indians and forty-five negroes, made up the medley of the expedition. The Indians belonged to the general command, while the negroes were a separate command under a free, intelligent mulatto, named Simon. They shove from the shore in the current. Lillied flags wave and flutter in glinting curve, varied colored banners are displayed, and the incongruous expedition starts. Amidst the yells of the hosts, the cannon booming from the fort, the report of which rebounds and re-echoes along the shore, while the gay and hilarious host shouts itself hoarse, the expedition starts. For twenty-three days they pull against the current in their ascent of the Tombigbee. Messengers were dispatched in advance to advise Captain DeLusser, at Fort Tombeckbe, of the coming of the mighty multitude, and to provide against their hunger by cooking several barrels of biscuits. DeLusser cooked for life, by day and by night, but he had only about two-thirds the quantity of biscuits needed for the hungry host on its arrival. No trip could have been more laborious, as the barges had to be dragged against the current by seizing the overhanging branches and vines, when possible, and at other times employing beaked rods by means of which, when grappling with trees or rocks the barges were pulled slowly along. All this was forgotten when the fort was reached, and men could again refresh themselves.

"When the shore is won at last, Who will think of the billows past?"

Bienville was much disappointed to find that just before his arrival there had been a revolt at the fort, and the conspirators were now in irons awaiting his coming. The plan of the conspirators was to kill DeLusser and the commissariat, and return to the Chickasaws two men who had been delivered from their hands, and who had been previously reduced by the Chickasaws to slavery. By thus conciliating the Chickasaws, the conspirators hoped to have aid given them in reaching Canada, where they would join the British. Bienville made short work of them, for after a brief court martial, they were marched out on the prairie and shot. The most significant event connected with the coming of Bienville was that of the assembling of six hundred Choctaw warriors, who had heard much of Bienville and under their leaders, Mingo and Red Shoes, had now come to offer their service. To impress them with his importance, Bienville regaled the warriors with a dress parade of his host, only a part of which knew anything about military evolutions, but where the Indians knew nothing of regularity, the purpose was equally served. With great delight the savages witnessed the drill, and announced themselves ready to join Bienville in his campaign against the Chickasaws, fifty miles away. With his body of five hundred and fifty, and the six hundred Choctaws, and the reinforcements under D'Artaguette of three hundred more, which last body was to join him later, Bienville felt confident of success, but he little knew the character of the foe that he was to meet.

CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE CHICKASAWS

Never felt one surer of success than Bienville when he took up afresh his expedition against the Chickasaws. By prearrangement, D'Artaguette was to descend from the Illinois region, and meet him near the stronghold of the Chickasaws and aid him in their subjection. Of ardent temperament, Bienville was easily made overconfident, and yet he had but little on which to rely. Save the veterans of the command, he had little else.

The motley horde that had enlisted under his banner at Mobile, was not worthy of trust in an emergency, nor did he know how far he could depend on his Indian allies, for Red Shoes hated the white man, only he hated the Chickasaws the more. He was going not so much in aid of the French, as he was to punish the Chickasaws. This made his influence a doubtful quality, and that influence was great with the Choctaws. But if Bienville could have the command of D'Artaguette to aid him, which was destined not to be, he could possibly succeed, though the Chickasaws were the fiercest fighters among the tribes, and they had among them English officers, who were training them for the coming attack.

The command was again ready to move, but the keen edge of the novelty and enthusiasm was now blunted, on the part of at least a large contingent of the command, which was going simply because they had to go. The scene was a peculiar one, as the boats were ranged along the bank of the river at Fort Tombeckbe. With refreshing complacency, the French took possession of the boats, Simon and his seventy-five black followers owned their crafts, and the Canadians and Indian allies were left to make their way, as best they could, along the river to the point where all were to unite to go against the Chickasaws.

On May 22, 1736, they reached the region where Cotton Gin Port, Mississippi, now is, where Bienville built a temporary fort which he named Fort Oltibia, and after securing his stores, locking his boats to the trees, and appointing a guard to protect them, he started with twelve days' rations to the Chickasaws' stronghold, still twenty-seven miles in the interior.

It was a rainy season, the prairie mud was deep, the inland streams were up, the country a tangled region of underbrush, the banks of the streams slippery with lime mud, and most of the host already demoralized. They started inland, the men sometimes being forced at times to wade waist deep in crossing the streams, the march was slow and laborious, and the prospect grew dimmer with decreasing enthusiasm, as they proceeded. There was straggling not a little, but from more of this Bienville was saved, by reason of the fact that they were in the enemy's country, and a sense of common interest welded them together. They marched past fortified villages of the Chickasaws, which villages Bienville disregarded, but he found it next to impossible to restrain the Choctaws, in their hatred of the Chickasaws from attacking these. One fortified village, Schouafalay, the Choctaws did attack, much against the judgment of Bienville.

There was partial relief afforded the troops when they emerged from the tangled wilderness and reached the open prairie. Here was an abundance of game, of much of which the troops availed themselves, while they were cheered not a little by the patches of ripe strawberries growing in wildness on the plain, and by the unbroken green of the prairie dashed here and there by patches of beautiful blossoms.

They were now within six miles of the object of attack. Here it was proposed that the commands of Bienville and of D'Artaguette were to unite, but the latter failed to appear. The scouts sent on in advance by Bienville, reported that they could not find D'Artaguette and could learn nothing of his whereabouts. This was a sore disappointment to Bienville, for he had counted much on D'Artaguette and his veterans, but he could not now stop. He still had about one thousand five hundred in his command, and he was confident of success.

Bienville's plan was to pass around Ackia, where the Chickasaws were strongly fortified, and proceed to the town of Natchez, overthrow the Indians there, and by that means inspire the troops, and at the same time demoralize the Chickasaws. In a council of officers now called, he advocated this plan, but the Choctaw leaders would not listen to a proposal like this. They wanted to attack the Chickasaws outright, crush them, and then quietly return. Some of the French officers concurred in the proposed policy of the Choctaws, while not a few coincided with Bienville. The Choctaws seemed almost uncontrollable in their frantic desire to reach the Chickasaws. To have heard them rave, one would have thought that there was little use of the French in the expedition, at all.

Nothing was now left but to traverse the remaining six miles, and give battle to the waiting Chickasaws. The line of march was again taken up, and another half day brought them within full view of the battlements of the enemy. The conditions were not such as to occasion much inspiration. The fortifications were imposing, and seemed sufficiently strong to resist any force.

On an eminence stood the fort of heavy logs. Around it were palisades with port holes just above the ground, while just within the palisades was a trench, in which the defenders would stand, rest their guns within the port holes, and fire with ease on the plain below without the slightest exposure of their bodies. Outside the palisades were a number of strongly fortified structures or cabins. The fort itself was of triangular shape, with the roof of heavy green logs, overlaid with a thick stratum of dried mud, a double security against fire, should the French undertake the use of combustibles. The imposing fortifications had a disheartening effect even on the officers of the French troops, and much more the men.