On April 3 2006 I woke up to enjoy a campground with Spanish Moss. It was a first for Myra and me. This is at Fort Toulouse National Historic Park, near Montgomery, Alabama, where the Coosa and Tallapoosa Rivers join to form the Alabama.
I had ridden into camp after dark the night before so didn’t get a good look at the place until morning. The day before I had ridden from Selma to Montgomery, stopping along the way at historic sites on the Alabama River. I had then had gotten lost trying to find my way across Montgomery. Myra had had a chance to do some Civil Rights tourism in Selma.
I got to thinking about this place when one of the bicycle tourers on the phred mailing list told about a Cherokee ancestor of his who had made the mistake of fighting on the side of Gen. Andrew Jackson in the Creek Wars. It was at a meeting here, after the fighting was over, that Jackson’s Creek allies learned their reward would be being forced to give up a large part of their land in Alabama.
And by here, I mean a short walk away — with no fences or barriers between the campsites the exact site of Fort Jackson/Fort Toulouse. I imagine this very spot was used as a campground by some of the parties involved.
I don’t know that I’ve ever had the privilege of camping right on a spot of such historic and archaeological significance. And in case anyone gets ideas, the campground authorities DO make it known that they don’t want to see campers out with metal detectors.
Hi
Just come across your site.
Here in England (Old not New) I like to follow the road network lain down by the Romans. To know where you are standing was once stood upon by an ancient people who left good records gives a sense of continuance that I think is important.
Best wishes
Glad you stopped by, dexey.
I like that phrase, “sense of continuance”. I often try to put myself in places that will help me see the history as part of our story, and not as a separate, disconnected story. (If that makes any sense.)
Did you ever have the experience of forgetting what century you’re in when you’re on those Roman roads?
Yes that makes sense. History is a continuous (continuing) tale. Not the gobbets that our politicians like to throw at us when they have an axe to grind!
It is hard to forget which century you are in because the landscape here is so very different to what it would have been. Probably still ‘managed’ but in smaller parcels.
Sometimes I have felt a special closeness to the Roman military.
A few years ago I stood on the foreshore in Chichester harbour near to Fishbourne Palace and realised that the view towards the sea cannot have changed too much. No doubt the creeks have moved but water is water and it is exactly the same water that wet the legionary’s sandals as was wetting my shoes.
Another time, at a small museum in Central Wales they let me handle a Roman Army ‘dog tag’ from a display case. I used to wear something similar as a young soldier.
Lastly, at a museum in Edinburgh they have set artefacts out by usage over time. There is a grouped display of the items carried by a legionary. I looked at the cooking set and it wasn’t much different to mine. I use a hobo stove rather than open fire, but still burn wood (and hexy when the sticks are damp). My pots are titanium rather than iron and bronze but they do exactly the same job.
An extra that has come into mind is that many Roman roads are obviously aligned on hilltops. There is a pair in South Shropshire, Caer Caradoc and The Lawley, that are reminiescient of a young Dolly Parton laying flat on her back. Many a soldier marching from Uriconium to Bravonium must have had similar thoughts :0)
[...] I got to Fort Toulouse well after dark. Traffic going north on US-231 was a little on the heavy side for bicycling, and a couple cars didn’t seem to appreciate sharing the road with me. But it wasn’t terrible. The campground was nice and quiet, but I had to wait until the next day to see what it was like. I already blogged about it here. [...]