IX.
HOMELESS AND SHELTERLESS
_Thursday, July 10, 1862._ (---- Plantation._)--Yesterday about 4 o'clockwe walked to the lake and embarked. Provisions and utensils were packed inthe lockers, and a large trunk was stowed at each end. The blankets andcushions were placed against one of them, and Annie and I sat on themTurkish fashion. Near the center the two smaller trunks made a place forReeney. Max and H. were to take turns at the rudder and oars. The lastword was a fervent God-speed from Mr. E., who is left in charge of all ouraffairs. We believe him to be a Union man, but have never spoken of it tohim. We were gloomy enough crossing the lake, for it was evident theheavily laden boat would be difficult to manage. Last night we staid atthis plantation, and from the window of my room I see the men unloadingthe boat to place it on the cart, which a team of oxen will haul to theriver. These hospitable people are kindness itself, till you mention thewar.
_Saturday, July 12, 1862. (Under a cotton-shed on the bank of theMississippi River.)_--Thursday was a lovely day, and the sight of thebroad river exhilarating. The negroes launched and reloaded the boat, andwhen we had paid them and spoken good-bye to them we felt we were reallyoff. Every one had said that if we kept in the current the boat wouldalmost go of itself, but in fact the current seemed to throw it about, andhard pulling was necessary. The heat of the sun was very severe, and itproved impossible to use an umbrella or any kind of shade, as it madesteering more difficult. Snags and floating timbers were very troublesome.Twice we hurried up to the bank out of the way of passing gunboats, butthey took no notice of us. When we got thirsty, it was found that Max hadset the jug of water in the shade of a tree and left it there. We must dipup the river water or go without. When it got too dark to travel safely wedisembarked. Reeney gathered wood, made a fire and some tea, and we had agood supper. We then divided, H. and I remaining to watch the boat, Maxand Annie on shore. She hung up a mosquito-bar to the trees and went tobed comfortably. In the boat the mosquitoes were horrible, but I fellasleep and slept till voices on the bank woke me. Annie was wanderingdisconsolate round her bed, and when I asked the trouble, said, "Oh, Ican't sleep there! I found a toad and a lizard in the bed." When droppingoff again, H. woke me to say he was very sick; he thought it was fromdrinking the river water. With difficulty I got a trunk opened to findsome medicine. While doing so a gunboat loomed up vast and gloomy, and wegave each other a good fright. Our voices doubtless reached her, forinstantly every one of her lights disappeared and she ran for a fewminutes along the opposite bank. We momently expected a shell as a feeler.
At dawn next morning we made coffee and a hasty breakfast, fixed up aswell as we could in our sylvan dressing-rooms, and pushed on, for it issettled that traveling between eleven and two will have to be given upunless we want to be roasted alive. H. grew worse. He suffered terribly,and the rest of us as much to see him pulling in such a state ofexhaustion. Max would not trust either of us to steer. About eleven wereached the landing of a plantation. Max walked up to the house andreturned with the owner, an old gentleman living alone with his slaves.The housekeeper, a young colored girl, could not be surpassed in hergraceful efforts to make us comfortable and anticipate every want. I wasso anxious about H. that I remember nothing except that the colddrinking-water taken from a cistern beneath the building, into which onlythe winter rains were allowed to fall, was like an elixir. They offeredluscious peaches that, with such water, were nectar and ambrosia to ourparched lips. At night the housekeeper said she was sorry they had nomosquito-bars ready and hoped the mosquitoes would not be thick, but theycame out in legions. I knew that on sleep that night depended recovery orillness for H. and all possibility of proceeding next day. So I sat upfanning away mosquitoes that he might sleep, toppling over now and then onthe pillows till roused by his stirring. I contrived to keep this up till,as the chill before dawn came, they abated and I got a short sleep. Then,with the aid of cold water, a fresh toilet, and a good breakfast, I bracedup for another day's baking in the boat.
[If I had been well and strong as usual the discomforts of such a journeywould not have seemed so much to me; but I was still weak from the effectsof the fever, and annoyed by a worrying toothache which there had been nodentist to rid me of in our village.[31]]
Having paid and dismissed the boat's watchman, we started and traveledtill eleven to-day, when we stopped at this cotton-shed. When our dais wasspread and lunch laid out in the cool breeze, it seemed a blessed spot. Agood many negroes came offering chickens and milk in exchange fortobacco, which we had not. We bought some milk with money.
A United States transport just now steamed by and the men on the guardscheered and waved to us. We all replied but Annie. Even Max was surprisedinto an answering cheer, and I waved my handkerchief with a very fullheart as the dear old flag we have not seen for so long floated by; butAnnie turned her back.
_Sunday, July 13, 1862. (Under a tree on the east bank of theMississippi.)_--Late on Saturday evening we reached a plantation whoseowner invited us to spend the night at his house. What a delightful thingis courtesy! The first tone of our host's welcome indicated the truegentleman. We never leave the oars with the watchman; Max takes those,Annie and I each take a band-box, H. takes my carpet-sack, and Reeneybrings up the rear with Annie's. It is a funny procession. Mr. B.'s familywere absent, and as we sat on the gallery talking it needed only a fewminutes to show this was a "Union man." His home was elegant and tasteful,but even here there was neither tea nor coffee.
About eleven we stopped here in this shady place. While eating lunch thenegroes again came imploring for tobacco. Soon an invitation came from thehouse for us to come and rest. We gratefully accepted, but found the ideaof rest for warm, tired travelers was for us to sit in the parlor on stiffchairs while the whole family trooped in, cool and clean in fresh toilets,to stare and question. We soon returned to the trees; however, theykindly offered corn-meal pound-cake and beer, which were excellent. If wereach Fetler's Landing to-night, the Mississippi-River part of the journeyis concluded. Eight gunboats and one transport have passed us. Getting outof their way has been troublesome. Our gentlemen's hands are badlyblistered.
_Tuesday, July 15, 1862._--Sunday night about ten we reached the placewhere, according to our map, Steele's Bayou comes nearest to theMississippi, and where the landing should be, but when we climbed thesteep bank there was no sign, of habitation. Max walked off into the woodson a search, and was gone so long we feared he had lost his way. He couldfind no road. H. suggested shouting and both began. At last a distanthalloo replied, and by cries the answerer was guided to us. A negro said"Who are you? What do you want?" "Travelers seeking shelter for thenight." He came forward and said that was the right place, his master keptthe landing, and he would watch the boat for five dollars. He showed theroad, and said his master's house was one mile off and another house twomiles. We mistook and went to the one two miles off. There a legion ofdogs rushed at us, and several great, tall, black fellows surrounded ustill the master was roused. He put his head through the window andsaid,--"I'll let nobody in. The Yankees have been here and tooktwenty-five of my negroes to work on their fortifications, and I've nobeds nor anything for anybody." At 1 o'clock we reached Mr. Fetler's, whowas pleasant, and said we should have the best he had. The bed into whosegrateful softness I sank was piled with mattresses to within two or threefeet of the ceiling, and, with no step-ladder, getting in and out was aproblem. This morning we noticed the high-water mark, four feet above thelower floor. Mrs. Fetler said they had lived up-stairs several weeks.
FOOTNOTES:[31] Restored omission. See page 262.
Strange True Stories of Louisiana Page 54
