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Author Topic: Oral Traditions & Legends  (Read 1679 times)
jaybird
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« on: April 11, 2010, 12:40:38 PM »

On a recent hiking trip on the Pinhoti, I was reminded of one of the old Creek Indian legends involving an very noticeable mountain just outside of the city of Talladega called the Sleeping Giant.  It reminded me that these oral traditions that are passed down from generation to generation are very important markers of who we are and where we came from.  I'd like to share the Legend of the Sleeping Giant.  I'd love to know if you have any such legends to share?

Here is a picture of the Sleeping Giant, as seen from Sherman Cliffs along Horn Mountain.  The mountain is viewable between me and my good friend Vicki.  (If you click on the picture, it will get larger.) The "giant" is facing skyward, with his feet nearest her hat, then working to the left -- the next bump would be his stomach, while the next bump is his hands across his chest, and the next bump is his head.  The legend follows the picture.
http://i714.photobucket.com/albums/ww150/trailsouth/sleepinggiant.jpg
Oral Traditions & Legends


The Sleeping Giant: An Indian Legend - Talladega Co., AL

    Many years before the white man penetrated the forests of Alabama, there dwelt a happy, thrifty tribe of Indians in the central portion of the present county of Talladega.  The chief of this tribe was the great Choccolocco; a man of vast possessions.  He had only one daughter, the Princess Talladega, whom he treasured above all possessed.

    Talladega, as every princess should be, was the most beautiful maiden in all the realm.  Choccolocco, realizing that he could not continuously keep Talladega within the walls of his selfish heart and domain, began to cast about for a suitable mate for his treasured daughter.

    Now, in those days, as well as in these, one had only to think a thing, and the world anticipated the unspoken thought, and ran away with it.  It so happened that great chiefs, mighty and rich, old and young, from far and near, began to make offers of handsome gifts to the stern old Choccolocco for the hand of his daughter.  Some found favor in the sight of Choccolocco, but Talladega said:    "Nay.  Give me time.  The right companion will come along some day, who loves the things that I love, and we can be happy wandering through life together."

    Time passed on, until one dawn of an April day, Talladega wandered down a winding path to the sparkling spring at the foot of the hill.  The world seemed lovely in spite of the scheming father.  Suddenly she heard a song in the distance.  It was beautiful.  The song grew nearer and nearer, and more beautiful, until the singer burst into view, as Talladega dipped her earthen pot into the water.  She met the dark eyes of a comely young warrior, and at that moment she knew that in some way their future would be linked together.  Thus began, in the spring of that year, an affair which clandestinely grew beyond the imagination of Choccolocco.  Each morning a song was answered, a friendship ripened, and a love was strengthened.  The wooing progressed, until one day Talladega, approaching her cabin, heard
voices.  Her name was mentioned.  To her dismay she realized that Cheaha, an ugly old chief from an adjoining province, was bargaining with Choccolocco.  As she caught the glowering eyes of Cheaha, she immediately knew that she would not submit to wedlock with this eagle-eyed suitor.  After Cheha left, Choccolocco informed Talladega that he was the favored chief, and that she would probably soon follow him to his province.  Talladega slept none that night, and soon after dawn she was out awaiting the song of her young lover, Coosa.

    It was indeed a sad morning they spent together.  Coosa possessed no property, and he was so overcome with the helplessness and pathos of their situation, that he plunged into the woodland, where he wandered up and down the banks of his favorite stream for days.  His thoughts were only of Talladega.  He could see her reflection in the still waters; hear her voice in the rapids; and to this day the stream that bears her name still echoes the voice, and reflects the beauty of Talladega.

    After Coosa had wandered for days, he decided that he could stand it no longer, and he went back to speak to Choccolocco.  Coosa found him alone and he immediately stated his business.  He told him that he was not a man of property, yet he was young, and taller, swifter and stronger than any warrior of the province; aside from this, he knew where valuable minerals were stored in lands unpossessed, and he would direct Choccolocco to them, whereby he could enrich himself more plentifully than any chief in all the land.  In fact, he plead so appealingly, and painted a picture so enticing, that Choccolocco listened with growing interest.

  "If you can bring me samples of valuable ores, and assure me of the possibility of ownership," said Choccolocco "I shall consider your proposition more fully."

    There was never a happier being since the world began than was Coosa at his hopeful remark.  Turning he found that someone else had joined them, and from the scowl on his face, he discerned that this was the erstwhile acceptable suitor, who had overheard the latter part of Choccolocco’s remarks.

    Cheaha turned without a word.  An idea was brewing.  He hastened to put it into action.  He had brought with him two young warriors, whom he immediately dispatched, one for a famous medicine man of his tribe, and the other to follow Coosa.  The medicine man had discovered an herb that would put the strongest of men immediately to sleep, and he could not be aroused until the antidote was administered; that antidote being known to none but the medicine man himself.

    Along about nightfall the young warrior who followed Coosa returned with the information that he had pitched camp at the west end of the valley. When Cheaha and the medicine man arrived they found Coosa peacefully sleeping, with arms folded on his breast and his face turned to the heavens. The medicine man stealthily crept to the sleeping Coosa and quickly administered the drug.  When he assured Cheaha that the drug had taken the desired effect, Cheaha cruelly turned on the medicine man and killed him on the spot.

    In the meantime Choccolocco, becoming disgusted at the delay of Coosa, ordered wedding preparations for Talladega and Cheaha.  

    Talladega had discovered her sleeping lover, and made many secret visits to him whenever chance permitted.  She became so depressed and unhappy as the wedding day approached, that Cheaha decided that it would be wise to tell Talladega that Coosa could never be awakened.  Talladega said nothing. She only sat motionless and gazed into space.

    When the wedding day arrived, no bride was to be found.  The woodland was searched, the hills and valleys scanned, but no bride was to be found. In the midst of the turmoil an Indian lad burst into the group with the exciting news that Talladega had been discovered, lying dead on the breast of her sleeping lover.

    Although the drug was so powerful as to keep Coosa always sleeping, it also carried the power to make him grow, and while lying there sleeping, he has grown through the centuries until the mighty figure has become a great giant, now forming a mountain many miles long, where he can be seen from many roadsides.  Mother Nature has lovingly covered him with earth, to protect him from the cold.  She has planted trees and shrubs to shield him from the hot summer sun, and she has scattered flowers here and there, and each year birds flock to the Sleeping Giant to herald the coming of Spring. And there he lies, still dreaming of his beloved Talladega, "The Bride of the Mountain."

(1) First read from the pen of Frank Willis Barnett, about 40 years ago, in the Birmingham News; included in a "Sketch of Talladega County".  Copy in my scrap book, but without date.  The father of Frank Willis Barnett was one of the first newspaper publishers of Talladega, and from him he heard the Legend.  Early records speak of the mountain also as "The Giant at Rest" and the "Resting Giant."  The above portion of the "Sketch of Talladega County" can be found in E. Grace Jemison, Historic Tales of Talladega (Montgomery, AL: Paragon Press, 1959), pp. 1-3.
« Last Edit: April 11, 2010, 08:47:46 PM by jaybird » Logged
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« Reply #1 on: April 11, 2010, 08:43:16 PM »

Enthralling! Why is it I have never heard this story? I grew up in the area. Someone cheated me. Thanks for posting it. I love this kind of stuff!
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« Reply #2 on: April 11, 2010, 08:48:41 PM »

I've got more!  The Legend of Chief Chinnabee is one of my favorites.

Chief Chinnabee was a Natchez leader who brought his people to Talladega in 1756 to live sheltered among the Creeks. The Natchez had been driven from their homes in Mississippi by the French.  Chinnabee came to be a wise leader within the Creek nation, and had been given some Creek land for his people.  He had also become good friends with a local white man (Mr. McElderry) whose land bordered Creek land.  Mr. McElderry owned a fine white horse that Chief Chinnabee much admired.  Mr. McElderry and Chief Chinnabee shared values about the land and its heritage.  Mr. McElderry had always admired a certain piece of Creek land that Chief Chinnabee had been given, which bordered his farm.  This pair also shared a love of fine spirits.  One night, after many shared drinks, Chief Chinnabee went into a deep meditation.  Being respectful to his friend, Mr. McElderry let him be.  After he awoke, Chief Chinnabee told Mr. McElderry that he’d had a vision – and that in this vision, Mr. McElderry gave him his prized white horse.  Mr. McElderry, continuing to be respectful, honored the Chief’s request, and told him the horse was his.  Mr. McElderry, however, told Chief Chinnabee, that while he was having his vision – he’d indeed had one of his own.  He told Chief Chinnabee that in his vision, the Chief had given him the parcel of land that he’d always admired which bordered his farm.  Chief Chinnabee agreed, and promptly mounted his horse to depart.  On his way home, as he was racing the horse while intoxicated, he rode the horse too close to a tree which hit a low-hanging limb – killing him.

The McElderry family home still sits atop the hill in the McElderry community just south of Munford off McElderry Road.  The Cheaha Road leading to Camp Mac is just half a mile away.  In the curve of McElderry Road and Talladega County Road 385 sits a house with a grave marker in the front yard.  This grave is covered with a slab of concrete and a bronze marker.  This grave is that of Chief Chinnabee’s son, Chinnabee Selocta.  Selocta was the translator for General Andrew Jackson at the Ft. Jackson treaty signing. This treaty ceded 23 million acres from the Creeks to the U.S. Government.  Selocta was Jackson's guide and Indian advisor, and even after Selocta’s arguing against it, Jackson still decided upon the Indian removal.

This story was relayed to me by an employee in the Cheaha State Park General Store.  Bits and pieces of it can be found online from various websites.  I want to keep it alive.
« Last Edit: April 11, 2010, 10:23:56 PM by jaybird » Logged
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« Reply #3 on: April 11, 2010, 11:42:34 PM »

Thanks for the story!

Growing up in North Carolina they would tell us the story of Blowing Rock. At Blowing Rock there is a rather strong and constant updraft. To save time I found the story on a website. Here it is-

"It is said that a Chickasaw chieftan, fearful of a white man’s admiration for his lovely daughter, journeyed far from the plains to bring her to The Blowing Rock and the care of a squaw mother. One day the maiden, daydreaming on the craggy cliff, spied a Cherokee brave wandering in the wilderness far below and playfully shot an arrow in his direction. The flirtation worked because soon he appeared before her wigwam, courted her with songs of his land and they became lovers, wandering the pathless woodlands and along the crystal streams.

One day a strange reddening of the sky brought the brave and the maiden to The Blowing Rock. To him it was a sign of trouble commanding his return to his tribe in the plains. With the maiden’s entreaties not to leave her, the brave, torn by conflict of duty and heart, leaped from The Rock into the wilderness far below. The grief-stricken maiden prayed daily to the Great Spirit until one evening with a reddening sky, a gust of wind blew her lover back onto The Rock and into her arms. From that day a perpetual wind has blown up onto The Rock from the valley below. For people of other days, at least, this was explanation enough for The Blowing Rock’s mysterious winds causing even the snow to fall upside down."

Blowing Rock is really damn neat if you ever get the chance to see it. I haven't been in 15 years, would love to go back again.
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