The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1903-03-22
A CITY OF ROMANCE
LEGENDS AND HISTORY
BY MITYLENE ow EN- MAcDAvID.

man with soft liquid black eyes, GRIM
son lips ard general air of graceful Ian
guor, is a true daughter of Spain. The
Creoles of Louisiana are the blue-bloods
of the state, and not as many believe,
mixture of African and American blood.
There was never such a disgustingly err
roneous idea. And to think that this mis-
taken idea has long held a fixed place in
the minds of many intelligent people, who
pretend to know something of history;
especially the history of their own coun-
try. The French are known to be the
most polite and hospltable people in the
world and in this the Creoles are not
lacking Indeed it Is a peculiar charm of
the whole race.
The Creole home, like many of the
"old south" is set far back in the CEN
ter of a large yard or rose garden, and
surrounded by a high brick UNCOVERED
wall that Chang, the Chinese giant could
not have oyer-peered. These walls ter
inmate in two tall brick gate posts Be
tween them swings a huge iron gate,
through which one may catch glimpses of
a broad gravel walk leading up to mar
BILE steps and white columns On either
side the grass stretches out green and
cool The climbing roses nod their heads,
and the breadth of oeander and sweet
olive greets YOU. In New Orleans as In
Charleston, s. c., and many other south
ern cities, the old custom of gate bells
is still prevalent. much to the discom-
Torture Of the uninitiated visitor. One
starts out to call upon a friend. He
reaches the gate and finds 1t locked
then he esples the great brass knob and
pulls. After waiting an indefinite lapse
of time, he is confronted by an old darkey
who unlocks the gate and leads the way
up to the front door. Then he is told to
ring again, and the darkey disappears
around the house. After a time his ring
at the door is answered by French maid
who greets him with a mixture of French
and English thus: "Oui Monsieur; the
madam is here
Homes With History.
So many of those old French houses can
boast history. Stories of romance, mid
night revels; cold, creepy ghost stories
and tales of haunted houses. In the gar
den of one stands a rose bush to which
there is a legend attached. One night or
rather in the wee sma hours as the
legend goes, a young woman was return
ing home from the Comus ball, accom-
panied by her sweetheart a Frenchman
who had just reached home from Paris,
after completing his education. He had
been absent five years. but in that lapse
of time these young lovers had been
faithful to their troth. The maiden's IA
ther. aristocratic, stern and unrelenting,
hated bitterly the young fellow, though
with no better cause than an old fam
lily feud of the dead past, in which the
young man bore no part. But, ah! How
often do the sins of the father rest upon
the son. even unto the third and fourth
generationi AS the carriage bearing the
couple rolled up the avenue; the old ia
Their sat in his study, dreaming over all
the bitterness, strife and hatred of his
past lift. All the old wounds had been
torn open afresh by the home coming of
this man--his daughters lover. He real
lied that in spite of his protestations
they would be married Hearing carriage
wheels on the gravel driveway he sprang
ND. his heart filled with rage-and- rush
Ing out upon the lawn, encountered his
daughter and the Frenchman as they
alighted from the carriage. In an instant
a pistol flashed from his hand and the
young man fell a corpse at the feet of his
betrothed The white roses waved over
the dead mans face, and his life blood
flowed around their roots. The torture
stricken girl fell across his body In
sensible and from the grief and horror