Flowing Through Time: A History of the Lower Chattahoochee River

CHATTAHOOCHEE VALLEY LEGACY SERIES

Flowing Through Time

A History of the Lower Chattahoochee River

Lynn Willoughby

THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA PRESS

Tuscaloosa

Published in Cooperation with

The Historic Chattahoochee Commission and

The Columbus Museum

Copyright © 1999

The University of Alabama Press

Tuscaloosa, Alabama 35487-0380

All rights reserved

Manufactured in the United States of America

Hardcover edition published 1999.

Paperback and eBook editions published 2012.

Typeface: Caslon

Cover design: Gary Gore

∞

The paper on which this book is printed meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Science-Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48—1984.

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-8173-5725-2

eBook ISBN: 978-0-8173-8634-4

A previous edition of this book has been catalogued by the Library of Congress as follows:

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Willoughby, Lynn, 1951-

  Flowing through time : a history of the lower Chattahoochee River / Lynn Willoughby.

    p. cm.

  Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index.

  ISBN 0-8173-0934-9 (paper meets minimum requirements)

1. Chattahoochee River—History. 2. Chattahoochee River Valley—History. I. Title.

  F292.C4 W55 1999

  975.8—ddc21

                          98-19771

Publication is made possible in part through the generous support of the Historic Chattahoochee Commission

To John Samuel Lupold

CONTENTS

List of Illustrations

Acknowledgments

Introduction

1 The Ancients

2 The Scramble for Muscogee

3 Along the White Frontier

4 A Land of Cotton

5 The Civil War Years

6 Moonlight and Magnolias

7 Workin' the River

8 The Business of Steamboating

9 River Power

10 Troubled Waters

11 Will the Water Last?

Notes

Bibliography

Index

ILLUSTRATIONS

MAPS

Chattahoochee Valley archaeological sites

Indian sites and white settlements

Antebellum railroads and the Chattahoochee Valley

Modern-day towns along the Chattahoochee

Dams on the lower Chattahoochee River

PHOTOGRAPHS

Sculpture found in the Chattahoochee Valley

Sculpture found in the Chattahoochee Valley

Dog pot found at Bull Creek archaeological site

Cemochechobee archaeological site

Mississippian-period mound

Creek square ground

The falls of the Chattahoochee in 1838

Columbus in 1838

The side-wheeler Lowell at Mary Freeman Landing

Columbus in 1868

1886 perspective map of Columbus

The Naiad

Women posing on the Queen City

Chattahoochee excursion barge

List of Chattahoochee steamboat landings

The Queen City at Fort Gaines

The W. S. Holt at the Columbus wharf

The Hard Times unloading cotton downriver

The Three States loading freight

The Queen City loading with cotton

The City of Eufaula loading with cotton

Loading cotton at the Columbus dock

Chattahoochee stevedores

Stevedore at Columbus dock

The Queen City loaded with turpentine barrels

The Rebecca Everingham draped with bunting

The J. W. Hires, the Mobile and Girard Railroad, and the Dillingham Street Bridge

The Queen City, the W. C. Bradley, and the M W. Kelly at the Columbus dock

The John W. Callahan

Clapp's Factory circa 1890

Eagle and Phenix Dam and powerhouse circa 1900

Aerial view of Eagle and Phenix Mills

Aerial view of Langdale Mill of West Point Manufacturing Company

City Mills and Muscogee Mills circa 1900

Columbus Railroad Company powerhouse at the City Mills dam

A 1912 Columbus Chamber of Commerce promotional piece

Goat Rock Dam under construction in 1911

Goat Rock Dam in the 1920s

Construction of Dillingham Street Bridge circa 1910

Construction of Bartlett's Ferry Dam in the 1920s

Bartlett's Ferry powerhouse and dam

West Point flood of 1919

West Point flood of 1929

Fort Benning soldiers building pontoon bridge across the Chattahoochee

West Point flood of 1961

Fishing at the fall line

Casting for bait on West Point Lake

The snag boat Guthrie in the 1970s

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

In the process of becoming, this book has been guided by many hands. I am grateful to the Historic Chattahoochee Commission and the Columbus Museum for commissioning this work. They envisioned creating a book that chronicled humankind's relationship with the Chattahoochee River over the centuries. My intention has been to make this work enjoyable to the general reader while informative to the professional. If I have succeeded, much of the credit goes to the experts in Chattahoochee River history, archaeology, and anthropology: the Historic Chattahoochee Commission's Chattahoochee Valley Legacy Series editorial board. It has been both a luxury and a pleasure to have Jerry Brown, Fred Fussell, Clason Kyle, John Lupold, Frank Schnell, and Billy Winn at my disposal for technical advice and the careful reading of each draft of this manuscript. Their comments and criticisms have vastly improved this work and saved me from a number of embarrassments. In particular, I wish to thank Frank Schnell for opening his personal library to me, sharing his expertise on the subject, and helping me reproduce photographs.

John Lupold, to whom this book is dedicated, has been a tireless supporter of both me and this book. He has generously offered technical assistance with computers, photographs, maps, and morale. He has taken me on tours of abandoned textile mills, river dams, and the more exotic of Columbus's restaurants. For the past nine years he has shared his encyclopedic knowledge of the Chattahoochee's history with me. His exuberance on the subject has inspired, challenged, and supported me. Both the book and I owe him a lot.

During the research phase of this project, I received help from many other professionals and friends. Among them were David Holmes, who patiently guided this computer-phobe in selecting a laptop computer; Lillianne Peterman of South Georgia Tech, who gave me technical assistance when the laptop broke; my parents, Broadus and Lib Willoughby, who sacrificed their log cabin for a summer so that I could be near my research; my sister Ginny Willoughby Bass, who graciously looked the other way when I stole squash from her garden to sustain myself; Carole Schuler, who fed my cat and probably an opossum while I was in Georgia; Craig Lloyd and Callie McGinnis at the Columbus State University's library, for cheerfully accommodating my sometimes irregular requests; Kaye Minchew of the Troup County Archives, for friendly assistance with research and photographs; Margaret Calhoon, archivist at Georgia Power, for opening the resources of the company's photographic collection to me; and Miriam Ann Syler of the Cobb Memorial Archives, for making my days of research there seem like an afternoon in her parlor. Copyeditor Jonathan Lawrence and the staff of The University of Alabama Press guided the manuscript to press with finesse and tact. The editors of the Georgia Historical Quarterly, Apalachee, and The University of Alabama Press have graciously allowed me to reprint material previously published.

As the writing phase of this project stretched out into years and most workdays felt like dog-paddling uphill, it would have been lonely going without the encouragement of my baby sister Windee Willoughby and my dear friends Pat Edmondson, Lynne Dunn, and Ginger Williams. Their love and support were appreciated most on the days they avoided asking me how the writing was going.

Thank you all!

INTRODUCTION

Once upon a time (four hundred million years ago, or thereabout), the future site of Columbus, Georgia, had an ocean view. The original coastline of the American Southeast arced like a crescent moon southwest-ward from present-day Maryland to the vicinity of Charlotte, North Carolina, then on toward Augusta, Macon, Columbus, and Montgomery, before meeting what would one day be referred to as the Gulf of Mexico.

In that long-ago age, all the continents were drifting around on the earth's crust. North America floated northward from near the equator. A supercontinent now called Gondwanaland began to break up into the future continents of Africa and South America and drift westward toward North America. The triangle of land that today constitutes the peninsula of Florida and the coastal plain of Alabama, Georgia, and Carolina was originally a piece of Africa. It broke off from the mother continent and drifted westward until it rammed into North America about three hundred million years ago. The crash crumpled the coastline and thrust up a new mountain range. The peaks and volcanoes of these Alp-like mountains were so high that they would dwarf the present Blue Ridge.¹

As dinosaurs stalked North America in the Triassic period, the South American and African continental masses drew away, opening up the Atlantic Ocean basin. A shallow sea settled over the latest appendage of the North American continent, the Southeast's Coastal Plain. Once again, the crescent-shaped line running through present-day Columbus, Georgia, marked the shoreline. Today this line is referred to as the fall line. It represents the point of intersection of the ancient mountains (now whittled to foothills by erosion) and the old seashore. The difference in elevation between the Piedmont and the Coastal Plain is highlighted in the southeastern rivers by the waterfalls that mark the highest point that boats can run up the rivers from the coast without the aid of man-made locks or diversionary canals. North and west of this line, today's Piedmont Plateau is all that remains of the once-mighty mountain chain after millions of years of upheavals and erosion. Geologic stresses broke up the mountains, and rains washed the pounded rocks away. Many of its minerals leached out of the crushed rock in the process, but the iron remained to stain the Piedmont clay a deep, rusty orange.²

The Coastal Plain which today lies south and east of the fall line lay under water for seventy-five million years or so. Gradually, over a period of probably another sixty-five million years, the waters receded to the present position of the coastline. As the ocean ebbed, the Chattahoochee extended farther southward from the Piedmont into the emerging coastal plain.

In modern times, the Chattahoochee River heads high in the Blue Ridge Mountains at about thirty-five hundred feet above sea level. As one writer described the headwaters over a century ago, In less than a mile the Chattahoochee develops itself into a rippling rivulet; a few yards further down makes it a branch; next you find it a bold creek, and by the time the bottom of the pass is reached you find your way blocked by a swift little river.³ The river plummets again for almost seventeen hundred feet before it reaches the Nacoochee Valley.⁴ From there, the sparkling waters flow on southwestwardly, following the Brevard Fault Line to cascade down to the Atlanta Plateau, a tableland no more than fifty miles wide that stretches out one hundred miles in length to encompass present-day Gainesville, Atlanta, and West Point, Georgia. Through this plateau, the river has cut a deep trench as deep as four hundred feet and as wide as five miles. In the stretch above Atlanta, the water is cold and clear and considered the best trout fishing for stocked rainbow, brown, and brook trout in the Southeast.⁵

At Franklin, in Heard County, the Chattahoochee steps down again to a lower plateau that extends from Meriwether County, Georgia, into Alabama. Between West Point and Columbus the river plummets headlong over boulders, throwing up foaming plumes of white water. Before the Chattahoochee was dammed in modern times, these rapids were a landmark. Humans—red, white, and black—were attracted to the Falls of Coweta where white men would one day build Columbus at the head of river navigation.

South of the rapids, the flatness of the terrain slows the Chattahoochee. At this point it is not only the character of the river that changes, but also that of the native flora and fauna, and even the climate. Through the earth, the river has eaten a ravine, creating high bluffs that stand fortress-like over the river at Phenix City, Eufaula, and Fort Gaines. At the southwestern corner of Georgia, the Chattahoochee weds the Flint River, a smaller but important stream that has been shadowing the larger one since it bubbled out of the Atlanta Plateau. Mingled together, the two enter Florida as the Apalachicola River, which has been described as having the flavor of alligators, moccasins, and dank swamps, laced over with beards of Spanish moss.⁶ Finally, at Apalachicola Bay, the Chattahoochee River broadens into an estuary. After 418 adventurous miles, the Gulf of Mexico swallows the tawny river and ends its travels.

Over this watercourse, humans have drifted for thousands of years. Generations of red, and later, white and black people have worshiped its power, marked the seasons of the year by its ebbs and flows, lazed on its sun-dappled banks, swum it, fished it, paddled it, drunk it, dammed it, and damned it.

This is its story.

CHAPTER 1

The Ancients

Rising from the Bering Strait that separated Asia from North America, a land bridge conducted the first humans into the Americas over ten thousand years ago. These ancient explorers wandered in search of a land where game was more plentiful and the weather more forgiving. Other groups followed. Some of the bands settled in the northern or western regions; others trekked eastward. Centuries passed in this manner before the first humans roamed into the Chattahoochee River valley.

Armed with their spears, the valley's first human residents stalked mastodons and mammoths in the forests above a roaring river, swollen by the melting snows of the Ice Age. These nomads followed the herds that sustained them. Since they made no permanent settlements, little was left behind as proof of their existence in the river valley except their heavy flint spearheads. Modern archaeological digs have uncovered mankind's first mementos at Bartlett's Ferry, north of Columbus, Georgia; at Fort Benning; on a creek near Seale, Alabama; and on a river bluff north of Phenix City.¹

The warming trend that thawed the Ice Age continued over the next two thousand years, drying and warming the floor of the Chattahoochee Valley. By about 3,000 B.C. the climate had come to resemble our modern-day weather, and the valley brimmed with food. The people who lived in the Chattahoochee Valley between 8,000 and 1,000 B.C. were hunters and gatherers. They followed the food sources with the seasons. In the spring and summer they camped near the river to fish and gather clams and mussels. In nearby woods they foraged for berries, wild fruits, and roots. In fall and winter they roamed the forests in search of nuts and acorns. All year long they hunted game. Although the gigantic mammoths and mastodons had disappeared from the valley, other, smaller animals were now in abundance. Hunters manufactured smaller, lighter weapons to kill the white-tailed deer, raccoon, rabbit, squirrel, wild turkey, and black bear. At two places along the Chattahoochee, archaeologists have found the remains of the flint factories where the archaic artisans chipped away at pieces of flint and quartz to craft their spear tips.

Archaeologists have labeled the next period of human habitation along the Chattahoochee (which lasted from 1,000 B.C. to A.D. 700) the Woodland period. By around 4,000 B.C., the Indians had learned to make stone axes and other heavy tools used to clear openings in the forest and hollow out trees in order to fashion dugout canoes. Floating down the river, the archaic people transported loads too heavy to carry on foot. In this way they conserved the precious calories required to find food and shelter. During the Woodland period, the tribes of the Chattahoochee region were in regular contact with other peoples living in distant parts of North America. In their dugouts they floated downstream to the Gulf of Mexico, and by paddling to the mouths of other river systems they floated into the heart of other regions.

But the Chattahoochee waters served as more than a transportation artery. The river was also a natural trail marker for overland travel. Trails shadowed the river on both banks and also paralleled its tributaries. Travelers knew that any path that followed a creek downstream led to the river. By following a trail in an upstream direction one eventually came to the river's headwaters, which were not far removed from those of adjacent river systems. Short trails connected one waterway to another. This was the logical way to travel from the Chattahoochee region to the Flint River valley to the east or the Coosa/Tallapoosa/Alabama waterway to the west.

Following the trails that connected one river system to the next, the natives walked as far as the valleys of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Through trade with distant people, the Chattahoochee Indians acquired exotic materials like marine shells and salt from the Gulf Coast, mica from the Appalachians, flint from the Flint River valley, copper from the eastern Tennessee region and even from the Great Lakes area, and obsidian from as far away as the Rockies. So whether or not they traveled by water, the Woodland people relied on the rivers to find their way in the wilderness.

By way of the flowing waters, the Woodland Indians communicated and traded with each other and also shared their spiritual beliefs and culture. Around 1,000 B.C., the Chattahoochee people, influenced by Indians to their west, began to place great significance on the burial of their dead. The burial mounds that these people erected along the Chattahoochee Valley required thousands of hours of labor by the entire tribe.

On the banks of the Chattahoochee near present-day Fort Gaines, Georgia, Woodland Indians left a monument to a complex set of spiritual beliefs that they shared with Indians throughout the Midwest and South. Around two thousand years ago, these early Chattahoochee residents built what would become known as the Mandeville site, which is today covered by the impounded waters of Lake Walter F. George.² Before its watery interment, archaeologists found a burial mound with copper and silver trinkets buried along with the cremated remains of humans. A second mound was the site of religious and secular ceremonies. Inside the Mandeville platform mound, the archaeologists found a human figurine, a pipe with a bowl shaped like a bird, and pieces of exotic minerals, including copper, quartz crystals, and mica.³

The huge Kolomoki complex, located on a tributary of the Chattahoochee River near the present-day town of Blakely, Georgia, provides further evidence of the complexity of the Woodland-period civilizations. Of the nine mounds that stand impressively today as a relic of the Woodland people, two have definitely been identified as burial mounds. These people apparently kept the burial and construction of these mounds in continuation over many years. Recent excavations have revealed a highly ritualistic manner of putting to rest the corpses of those whom they revered.

Fanning outward from an imposing platform mound measuring 56 feet high, 325 feet long, and 200 feet wide, as many as two thousand people lived at Kolomoki. Basket by basket, they piled up the earth to create their temples to the spirit world. Without draft animals to carry the loads of earth, the construction took dedication and organization. It is estimated that it took 875,000 man-hours to complete Mound A alone. In addition to the earthworks at Mandeville and Kolomoki, Woodland people left a stone enclosure atop Pine Mountain and occasional stone cairns on both banks of the river.

The Woodland Indians lived in harmony with nature. Indeed, William Winn has deemed these people the greatest naturalists the Valley has ever known: They knew the river itself, and its many tributaries, better than we know the streets on which we live. They swam and fished in its waters, used it as a broad highway to travel throughout the Valley, stretched out on its banks to take in the warmth of the winter sun, listened to the hiss of rain striking its surface, and heard the strange, sad, rustling sound of wind in the cane that grew on its banks.⁴

It is unclear what became of the Woodland Indians, but after their passing, a final civilization would rise and fall on the banks of the Chattahoochee before the advent of the Europeans into the Southeast. The period from A.D. 700 to 1400 saw the flowering of the Mississippian Culture, so called because it was related to the large mound complexes of this era found along the Mississippi River valley. Likewise, the Mississippian villages of the Chattahoochee Valley were usually located near the river or its larger tributaries. Like their predecessors of the Woodland period, the Mississippians constructed large, flat-topped platform and temple mounds. Encircling these seats of government and religion were wide, open plazas and extensive villages.

Although the Woodland people had raised some of their own food, their major preoccupation was in hunting and gathering. While supplementing their diet with game, the later peoples of the Mississippian period were the first in the Chattahoochee Valley to systematically cultivate the vegetables that were their mainstay: beans, squash, pumpkins, and, most important, corn.

Along the Chattahoochee there are no less than sixteen significant Mississippian sites. Most of these are still visible, although the river has reclaimed several. On the Georgia side of the river these include the late stages of Kolomoki and Mandeville, as well as two sites in Stewart County (Rood's Landing and Singer-Moye), one on Bull Creek near Columbus, and three near Fort Gaines (Drag Nasty Creek, Graces Bend, and Cool Branch). On the Alabama side, there are two sites in Houston County (Omussee Creek and Spann's Landing), three near Eufaula (Reeves, Lampley Mound, and Lynn's Fish Pond), and the Abercrombie Mound in Russell County. The Chattahoochee people shared such cultural traits with the other Mississippians as shell-tempered ceramics, multistage platform mounds, fortified towns, the first extensive cultivation of vegetables, and the production of effigy pottery and triangular projectile points, as well as a similar ethos.⁵

At Cemochechobee in Clay County, Georgia, three large mounds—a burial mound, a temple mound, and a house mound—represent the heart of this village that once covered more than 150 acres.⁶ The Rood's Landing site in Stewart County, Georgia, has been described by archaeologist Frank Schnell as the largest and most complex Mississippi Period site known on the Georgia Coastal Plain.⁷ Its eight mounds, with associated residences and plazas and defense works, have convinced archaeologists that this site was probably the capital of a major, complex chiefdom which must have controlled a significant portion of the Lower Chattahoochee Valley.⁸ From their vantage point on the Chattahoochee, the people of Rood's Landing could have influenced trade and transportation between the Gulf of Mexico and the Appalachian Mountains.

The mounds at Cemochechobee were abandoned about a hundred years before the coming of the first European explorers to the area. The settlement at Rood's Landing seems to have collapsed at about the time of Hernando de Soto, who was, in 1539, the first European to explore the 11 Southeast (although not the Chattahoochee region).⁹ Archaeologists are not certain what happened to the Rood's Landing and Cemochechobee people or to the other Mississippian peoples of the Chattahoochee. Most experts today agree that their civilization probably was decimated by European diseases for which they had little immunity. The initial contact between the Spanish and the indigenous peoples of North America, Central America, and the Caribbean set off waves of epidemics of such diseases as smallpox and measles that ravaged the various regions of the Americas.

As the fevers raged in the villages of the Chattahoochee River, the chiefdom that centered around the Rood's Landing capital collapsed. Survivors from other areas moved into the depopulated areas over the next century or two. The newcomers included the Ocheesee people, whom de Soto had encountered near the falls of the Ocmulgee River; the Tomathly, Tuskeegee, and Chiaha, whom he met in eastern Tennessee; and the Kasihta (or Cusseta) of central Alabama, who relocated to the Chattahoochee in the 1600s.¹⁰

In Russell County, Alabama, just south of today's Phenix City, are the remnants of an Indian village that date back to this era of drastic upheaval along the Chattahoochee (approximately 1600) and provide concrete evidence of the presence of epidemic diseases soon after the de Soto entrada. Instead of the careful laying to rest of the corpses into burial mounds, a practice that required hours and hours of intensive labor, these graves are shallow and haphazard.¹¹ The people who lived here made their pottery in a very similar way to a group of people who lived on the Alabama River at about the same time, indicating the movement of the survivors from one area to another.

As the various refugee groups moved into the Chattahoochee Valley, they absorbed the local survivors. The diverse people were often unrelated to each other and even spoke different languages. Yet they formed an alliance that offered the sovereign towns a regional council in which ideas were exchanged, friendships forged, and mutual defense pacts made. This