Singleton describes crossing of De Soto's army at Claiborne in 1540

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “De Soto’s river crossing: Explorer crossed at Claiborne 450 years ago,” was originally published in the Oct. 18, 1990 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

Picture yourself 450 years ago, standing on the east bank of the mighty Alabama River, about where the grain elevator is located today. You are looking to the west, and what you see is a mighty army slowly making its way down to the river, armor gleaming in the mid-day sun.

Just to the left of the army is a person who seems of great importance; the white horse that he is riding is one of the most beautiful horses that you have ever seen. This important looking individual seems to be relaying instructions to his officer corps. They are listening to their leader very closely as he points in the direction of the great river and the shallow waters that seem to be a crossing of sorts.

As this leader finishes his instructions, there is much shouting and waving among the next in command. The horsemen make their way slowly down toward the flowing waters. Several of the lead horsemen spur their stubborn mounts into the cool October water. Slowly the lead horsemen move this way and that, looking for the hard bottom of the river and trying to keep away from the swirling sinkholes that can be seen toward the middle of the flowing body of water.

Who are these people? What are they doing here, trying to wade the great river when they could have gone upstream and crossed the new bridge just recently built? Something must be wrong; you must be dreaming. You check your calendar on your digital watch. The time is 8 a.m., Oct. 12, 1540.

How can this be happening? Maybe you have been thrown back through time by some unknown or unexplained force. The date rings a bell in your mind; now you know who the important-looking individual on the great white horse is: Spanish explorer Hernando De Soto. He and his army are crossing the river on their way to the great Indian town of Maubila. And that tall, lanky Indian riding that small horse has to be Chief Tuscaloosa. He is a prisoner of De Soto’s army.

You turn your attention again to the river crossing. Over a hundred armor-clad soldiers on horseback are in the water. The leaders are now on your side of the river; they don’t seem to be paying any attention to you. They continue to shout instructions to the struggling men in the waters of the river. They sure picked an ideal day to cross the river. The water is low; it has been a real dry year. They couldn’t have made the crossing if the river was at normal levels.

Most of the horsemen have made it across; the foot soldiers are just entering the water. Many have pulled off their heavy armor breastplates and are dragging them through the water. They must be afraid of falling into one of those deep whirlpools and having the weight of the heavy armor drag them under.

Many of the soldiers are now sitting on the grass resting, just a short distance from where you stand. Strange that they haven’t heard or seen you standing there; they are probably too interested in getting all the soldiers and equipment across.

By now, almost all of the foot soldiers are near the east bank. A great shout is given from an individual who seems to be relaying orders from De Soto to the army. You look across the river to the west bank. A great number of cattle and hogs are being herded down the bank. There is much confusion as the cattle try to stop and drink. The hogs don’t want to enter the water. A large number of strange-looking dogs nip at the legs of the cattle and hogs; much yelling and whistling is taking place. Slowly the herds enter the water.

Horsemen ride out in the water to keep the animals from turning down the river with the current. One large hog floats past a mounted soldier, and the current slowly begins to carry it downstream. The soldier quickly dismounts and grabs the hog by its hind leg. With much thrashing and squealing, the large hog is turned toward the east bank. The soldiers all whistle and cheer. A wet and smiling soldier bows gracefully to the hundreds waiting on the east bank.

You look westward; the sun is slowly disappearing behind the row of hills in the distance. The slow-moving army is almost out of sight as it moves north by northwest. Strange, everyone always said that Maubila was down the river, where two rivers join. You remember that you are one of the few who always said that Maubila was in Monroe County. It seems that you could have been right all along. Shame some of the skeptics couldn’t have come down here and witnessed this historical event as you have.

You look around; there is no one but yourself on the river bank. You hear the sounds of heavy trucks moving across the new river bridge. You look again at your digital watch. That’s funny; today is Friday, and the date is Oct. 12, 1990. How did that grain elevator get there on the river bank? Then you remember it has been there all the time; you are now back in the present. You look around; there should be hundreds of tracks after all those horses and cattle and hogs passed right up the river bank, not to mention all those men carrying that heavy armor.

Some things just can’t be explained: it’s a pity that De Soto didn’t stop and talk and ask questions. Probably could have saved him a great deal of trouble. He and his army might not have gone to the great village of Maubila, if they had known what lay ahead.

But that’s history; right now I’ve got to high-tail it home with a story that my wife will believe as to why I’m late for supper. I know she won’t buy the one about the river crossing, that’s for sure.

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from 1964 to 1987. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)