LAUDERDALE COUNTY, ALABAMA
BIOGRAPHIES
WILLIAM HERMAN
"First white child born in Lauderdale County."
Contributed May 2005
by
Darren Briggs
William Herman - First White Child Born In Lauderdale County,
Alabama,
The Gazette, Saturday, April 19, 1884
"Old Times in Lauderdale"
I am inclined, from associations of my life with the Florence Gazette and the
county of Lauderdale, to address you a few lines for publication; provided you
can give the space in your highly respected and influential journal; valued on
account of the ability and prominent character of its editors, from its
incipiency to the present day, and on account of its historical association with
Alabama, and especially Lauderdale county. I have read the Florence Gazette, as
one of its subscribers, about fifty years, and still read it with more interest
than every before.
Though I have now made my home in Texas, yet my affection for and interest in
Lauderdale county and the State of Alabama have not diminished, and cause me to
rejoice when I learn of their bright future approaching; and that Alabama, and
prospectively old Lauderdale, is rapidly marching to the front rank in a general
prosperity. It makes me feel especially proud of them because I am a native of
Lauderdale, born under the sound of the Mussel Shoals of Tennessee river, March
11th, 1810, the first white child born in the county, so said. My parents had
settled near the river, in that territory, though without authority of law; and
so many white settlers came in, that the Indians complained to the Government,
and we were burned out of house and home and driven to Tennessee. But, after the
treaty with the Indians, my father returned to his old settlement, where I was
reared, barefooted and in buck-skin trousers and hunting shirt, farming,
fishing, hunting and trapping for a livelihood, where sporting was attractive
and profitable, and those who engaged, as almost all men did, had many a tumble
and tussle on land and water. As an instance: My brother and I were returning
from our traps, on an island in Tennessee river, in a rough canoe, when we saw a
fine buck swimming towards the bank, and we thought we would give him a chase.
The water was deep and we had no gun with us, so we pushed and paddled, and he
swam with all his might, but we overtook him. It was a freezing day too, and we
had a cold tussle, I holding him by the tail, while my brother tried to kill him
with the pole; but my hands became so numb, that I saw we would lose our game,
so I caught him by the tail with my teeth, close to its root, shut my eyes, and
how he made the water fly with his hind feet! But, by this device, my brother
was enabled to pummel him on the head until he killed him. The country was wild,
full of trials and hardships, uncultivated and but little civilization. My
father and mother had lived through the Colonial revolution, brought up under
the traditions of witchcraft, their minds full of all the horrors of the
revolution and the massacres by Indians, so my fireside entertainment in youth
was of such scenes and tragic events, but I have lived long enough to survive
their effects; and now interest myself in reading of the wonderful developments
of our country since that day. Although I only had six months schooling, being
raised up during the exciting times of Madison, Monroe, J. Q. Adams and Gen.
Jackson, I naturally formed a fondness for reading, especially of a political
nature. I have, ever since I arrived at the age of maturity, been a lover of
moral and religious writings, and have rejoiced to see the building up of the
various denominations of religion in my native county, although, in my younger
days I heard none but the preaching of the old Baptists, such as old brothers
Aaron Askew and Lancaster, long since deceased. When I was a young man, a good
old Baptist preacher advised me never to keep spirits in my house, having, he
said, done so himself, which caused all his boys to be drunkards. I thought it
good counsel, and decided to heed it, and did so several years after I had a
family; but I had a good peach orchard, and, like most of my neighbors, thought
I would distil my peaches, rather than have them waste. So I did, and soon had a
barrel of peach brandy in my house, of which I, as was the fashion in those
days, would take a drink, well sweetened with honey, merely for the stomach's
sake. About this time, I had an elderly lady employed as a domestic to whom, on
wash day, at her request, I would give a drink. One day I went [with the family
to a quarterly???] meeting in the neighborhood, old brother Driskal being the
Presiding Elder, and brother Dickson the Circuit Rider in charge. After service,
with said brothers, we returned home, and, to the dismay of myself and
especially of my wife, found the dinner on the fire burned up, and the old lady
in the bed drunk. Upon examination, I found she had let a great deal of brandy
run out, and the smell of old peach was all over the place. You can imagine my
feelings with the preachers as my guests. I was reminded of the old Baptist
preacher's advice, dismissed the old lady, and like the early abolitionists did
their negroes, sold my brandy, and henceforward adhered to the old preacher's
advice, and would advise all men to do likewise. I never was drunk and never
swore but two profane oaths in my life. But to the old lady. I soon after met
her in the road, riding horseback; she had on a heavy pair of mud boots, and a
leg on either side, and drunk in the bargain. A beautiful picture. -Wm. Herman
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