{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Class.\\nBook.\\nCOPYRIGHT DEPOSIT", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "X^mCS. 25 Cents.\\n^icHcNK^c\\ncamiNaoa^\\nOIE^\\nTHE WIND OF DEATH,\\nBY-\\n]ROSE C. FALLS. t", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "ESTABLISHED 1847.\\nGEO. LHOTE. WIDOW G. LHOTE.\\nSOLE MANUFACTURERS OF\\nTwist and Embossed Joiner Work\\nWHOLESALE AND RETAIL MANUFACTURERS OF\\nI\\nSole Manufacturers of Bevelled and Straight\\nWeather Boarding and Siding by Lhote s Process, pro-\\nducing a superior article at the same price. Shippers\\nand Manufacturers of\\nKOUQH OKESSEO LU|V|8\u00c2\u00a3I^\\nOF ALL KIBTDS,\\nSPECIALTY OF READY FRAMED HOUSES, COTTAGES\\nAND CABIJS[S, WITH COMPLETE PLANS\\nAND SPECIFICATIONS,\\nFor Export a^nd Conntr^y^ XJse Only.\\nWORKS, HEAD OF OLD BASIN.\\nOFFICES Main, Cor. Franklin 6l Toulouse Sts\\nOld. Basin*\\nBranch, 32 Carondelet Street,\\nopposite Corton msccliaiige", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "rntercd accoidinp to the Ad of CorgrfSP, in the year 1893, by Rose C. Falls, in the\\noffice of the Librarian of Corgress. at Washington.\\nCHENIERE^^CAMINADA\\nOR\\nTHE WIND OF DEATH\\nTHE STORY OF THE STORM IN\\nLOUISIANA.\\nBy ROSE C. FALLS.\\nHopkins Peinting Ofuce, 20 22 Commebcial Place.\\nises.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "TO\\nROBERT BLEAKLEY,\\nCHAIRMAN OF THE CITIZENS RELIEF\\nCOMMITTEE,\\nand his colleagues, members of that Committee,\\nwhose prompt action, untiring energy\\nand generous humanity will ever\\nbe blessed by the helpless and\\nhomeless,\\nThis Work is Respectfully Dedicated\\nBY-\\nTHE AUTHOR.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "Q\\nu\\no\\na\\nX\\nWl\\nM\\na\\nOS\\nk\\no\\na\\na\\nk\\nH", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER I.\\nCHENIERE CAMINADA.\\nThe gulf coast of Louisiana, that stretch of level sea marsh\\nand sluggish bayou, is rich in song and story. It lives in the pages\\nof both romance and history, and fact and fancy are so interwoven\\nthere that they cannot be separated. The pitiful story of Evange-\\nline reads like fact, while the true tale of the whispering sands of\\nPascagoula sounds like the wildest flight of fancy. It was on this\\ncoast that was made one of the only two landings on our shores of\\na foreign foe; and from its low-lyiug islands came the pirate Lafitte\\nto offer his services, in her hour of peril, to his country, which had\\nproscribed him for his crimes in the time of peace. But these\\nislands of the coast have changed since the days of Lafitte The\\nlong, low, rakish schooner, has been replaced by the lugger of\\nthe oysterman, and the inhabitants are hardy fisherman, toilers of\\nthe sea, instead of black bearded free-booters of the deep. Those\\nwho peopled these islands and the adjacent coasts were of almost\\nevery race and nation of the earth. The Anglo-Saxon, the Malay,\\nthe Creole, the Negro, the Austrian, the Italian, the Chinaman, the\\nSpaniard, the German, were all to be found there\\nThere they reared their camps, or fishing huts, on piles to\\nhave them beyond the reach of the high spring tides; there they\\nbrought their wives and reared their children and made that\\nhome, which evei y man, no matter what his race, must have.\\nThe blue waters of the gulf was the field of their labor, and the\\ncity of New Orleans, a half a hundred miles away, and reached by\\nway of the tortuous bayous, was the market for their finny spoil\\nA sturdy, happy people they were, strong in their affections,\\nproud in their self-reliance, open-hearted in their hospitality,\\nready to share, with the needy, their substance, and asking\\nnaught save a just return for their hard and often dangerous\\nlabor.\\nAs the population increased it naturally grouped itself into\\ncommunities, and Grand Isle, Cheniere Caminada, Grand Terra,\\nand the many other fishing settlements in what was collectively\\nknown as the Barataria Country, were the result.\\nSunday, October 1st, 18 J3, dawned upon this section of\\nLouisiana, and the sun rose,\\nNot, as in northern climes, obscurely bright,\\nBut one unclouded blaze of living light,\\nand it ne er shown on people happier or more peaceful. Fish-\\ning tackle and all the implements of week day toil were put\\naside, and the bronzed fishermen enjoyed the sweet association of\\ntheir wives and little ones\\nThe Gulf was uncommonly smooth no breath raised a ripple\\non its surface, but there was a ceaseless, gentle swell, as if,", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "amid the coral beds beneath, some lonely water spirit slum-\\nbered, while the waters above rose and fell with its steady\\nbreathing. From the swamps about the morning songs of\\nmyriads of birds ascended, as they flitted to and fro among the\\nmoss draped trees, and when the Sun rose higher in the Heav-\\nens the waters of the currentless bayous were parted by the\\nheads of lazy alligators, that came to the surface to wink and\\nblink at the sunshine\\nThere was enrapturing consonance of sound and sight, of\\nwoodland song and sea shore scenery. It was a morning to\\nkindle a poet s fancy calm and unruffled as a martyr s mind,\\nand bright as the hope that animates his busom. But as the\\nday waned, the scene was changed. Clouds chased each other\\nacross the blue of the Heavens and grew darker and more an-\\ngry looking as the evening approached. The shadows in the\\nswamps grew black and the murmiu ing of the moss draped\\nlimbs of the trees grew louder and louder. Sea birds skimmed\\nacross the water and sent forth frightened cries. The alliga-\\ntors sank to tbe bottom of the bayous, and the birds sought\\ntheir nests with plaintive trills. The fishermen gathered their\\nloved ones into the shelter of their homes and said: a storm\\nis brewing.\\nBut little they knew the devastation that would be the re-\\nsult of that storm to which they so carelessly referred, and still\\nless they apprehended of the horrors of the night which was then\\nwrapping its mantle of darkness about the devoted islands All\\nbut one\\nAmong these fisher-folk of Cheniere Camimda who noted\\nthe gathering storm was Andre Gilbeaux. Even while tbe sun\\nwas shining in the cloudless sky Gilbeaux sent out and summon-\\ned his relatives and friends to a banquet at sundown in his hum-\\nble but happy home. They came, filled with anticipations of\\ninnocent enjoyment and gathered at the festal board.\\nThe banquet was over, and, just as the sun sank beneath the\\nwaves the laughter and jest was stilled as the host rose to his\\nfeet with a glass of wine in his hand. At the sight of the expres-\\nsion on his face the smiles which had come to greet his expected\\ntoast died away, and a death-like silence fell upon all, leaving\\nthe ripple of the waters on the shelving shore and the rustling\\nof the wind-waved marsh grass the only sounds.\\nRaising his glass, in a calm, collected voice he said:\\nGentlemen, this will be the last time we will be together,\\nfor to-night I will drown. There will be confipanions with me\\nin my death. You may think that I am crazy, but I cannot help\\nthat, for I am firmly convinced that a watery death will be mine.\\nI will now toast to all, and hope peace and rest will be mine.\\nMay God bless all that remain behind, and peace to my compan-\\nions ashes that will die with me.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "Andre had always been a quiet, sober, self-contained man of\\nevenly balanced mind and warm affections, a fond husband and\\na kind father. But now his friends thought his mind unbal-\\nanced, and his wife, the tears streaming from her eyes, implored\\nhis friend Seikard Gaspard (who survived to tell the tale) to dis-\\nsuade her husband from the sin of self-destruction. Gilbeaux\\ndeclared that suicide was far from his thoughts, but that others\\nas well as himself would meet death in the waves, and he indi-\\ncated who of those around the board would go with him into the\\nvalley of the shadow of death; and, strange aa it may seem, he\\nforetold correctly. Even as he spoke the dark clouds began to\\ngather in the evening sky and moaning wind and heaving waters\\nbegan to tell of the coming storm The party scattered to their\\nhomes, and then the storm burst forth. Gilbeaux and his brother\\nendeavored to save themselves and Gilbeaux s wife and children\\nin a boat when the rising waters covered their island home. But\\nGilbeaux s prophecy was destined to be fulfilled. The boat was\\noverturned and only Gilbeaux s brother lived to tell the tale.\\nCheniere Caminada, often spoken of as an island, is really\\na peninsular, jutting into the waters of the Gulf of Mexico to the\\nwest of Grand Isle, and joined to the mainland by a marshy\\nisthmus which is often covered by water. It is all sand and sea\\nmarsh and rises but a few feet above the gulf. There is no veg-\\netation on it save a few stunted bushes, and its only inhabitants\\nare the fishermen and their families.\\nAlthough less than a mile wide and but about two miles and\\na half long its population numbered on that fateful day 1471\\nsoiib.\\nA TYPICAL. FISHERMAN S H\u00e2\u0082\u00acT.\\nWhen the night came they retired to their homes, built, as\\ndescribed, on piles or pickets as they called them, and prepared\\nfor the day of toil they looked for on the morrow by seeking the\\nrepose that comes to him who labors for his bread. Parents", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "stilled the little ones who were terrified by the rising wind and\\nthe waves, which were now dashing far beyond their accus-\\ntomed limits and were washing with ever increasing fury\\naround the slender supports of the houses. But minute by\\nminute the storm increased. The wind blew stronger and\\nstronger until it swept across devoted Cheniere a hundred and\\nfifteen miles an hour; and the water, churned to a foam by the\\nmerciless storm king, rolled across the whole peninsular in\\ntowering waves which beat on the frail homes of thin board\\nand fragile latania like hammers of destruction. At last the\\nassaults of the elements began to tell upon these frail habita-\\ntions, built only for such slight protection as was ordinarily\\nneeded in that land of perennial summer.\\nA RVINKO HOnifi AT chenigre:.\\nFollowing the sweep of some wave mightier than its fellows,\\nor some blast which shrieked across the sedge grown morass\\nlike a demon of destruction, would come a crash, which told of\\nthe ruin of a happy home. Torn plank from plank by the wind\\nit was scattered in the inky darkness, or, beaten from its sup-\\nporting piles by the angry sea, it disappeared in the raging\\nwaters, and its occupants were face to face with death. For a\\nwhile the husband and father would make an unequal strug-\\ngle with death for his loved ones, and then all would go\\ndown in the storm lashed water. Again and again was this\\nscene repeated, and family after family, father, mother and\\nchildren, all, found eternal peace amid the warring of the ele-\\nments, while their bodies were swept toward the marsh of the\\nmainland. Then came a lull and the inexperienced hoped\\nthat the worst was over. But nature was but resting for a\\nmightier effort than she had yet put forth. Again came the\\nwind, this time from off the land; and again the waters swept\\nCheniere. The debris of the homes previously wrecked, with\\nthe huge trunks of trees torn from the earth on the shore", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "8\\nnorth of the Cheniere, battered down the dwellings which had\\nwithstood the first assault, while a ghastly procession of white\\nfaced corpses drifted by out to sea. When morning broke and\\nthe sun again looked down on the storm-swept strip of sand,\\nit shown upon but five houses, all that was left of the five\\nhundred that dotted the peninsular the evening before.\\nOne of the few survivors was Pere Grimaux, the Roman\\nCatholic priest of Cheniere Caminada. The account he gave\\na reporter of the destruction of his parish and the havoc in his\\nflock was graphic and terrible The good priest said:\\nThe population of Cheniere Caminada island was 1471. Of\\nthese 696 only are now living; 779 are dead. Historic Cheniere\\nCaminada is no more. The first effects of the storm were felt\\nbetween 7 and 8 p. m. on Sunday. Everyone apprehended\\nthat something terrible was about to happen. The fishermen\\nforeseeing that a serious storm was evident, hastened to beach\\ntheir craft near their houses. But those precautions availed\\nnot, for the wind blew in fitful gusts, increasing in strength\\nand velocity every minute, coming from the south. At 7:30 p.\\nm. huge waves were madly lashing the shore, and in a few\\nminutes they had attained a height of six feet, and later on of\\neight feet. There was one avenue of safety, and that was to\\nseek the upper stories of the houses, but even that chance for\\nescape was lost, when the wind and waves combined shook the\\nfrail habitations, which rocked to and fro and creaked and\\ngroaned under the repeated attacks of the furious elements.\\nSoon the houses were being demolished, wrecked and carried\\naway. The wind shifted to the southeast, and for hours shrieked\\nwith redoubled fury. Above the thundering voice of the hur-\\nricane could be heard the despairing cries, the groans and the\\nfrantic appeals for help of the unfortunate victims.\\nI was in the upper story of the presbytery, holding on to\\nthe sill of an open window, powerless to do anything and\\nexposed to the terrific blasts and hearing the cries of agony of\\nmy poor dying parishioners. A more furious attack of the\\nstorm broke off one-half of the roof. Notwithstanding the\\nwind, I managed to light a lantern, which I displayed at the\\nwindow, to serve as a beacon for those who might be fortunate\\nenough to swim or to be cast towards the presbytery. Then I\\nleaned forward and holding up my hands over the waste of\\nwaters, I offered a fervent prayer to the Father of all and beg-\\nged of him to be merciful in his judgment on the souls of so\\nmany of his children who were at that moment dying in such\\na sudden and terrible manner.\\nI gave them all the final absolution of the Roman Cath-\\nolic church.\\nThen there was a sudden ominous lull in the storm. I\\nfelt that the worst was yet to come. It was then about 11", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "o clock and I saw blacker and denser masses of clouds, swiftly\\nrolling from the southeast towards our doomed island. There\\nwas something really appalling in that deceptive column.\\nHowever, those few minutes of rest were precious and saved\\nthe lives of many people.\\nBrave, sturdy men went out in skiffs and rowed from\\nhouse to house, taking in such of the inhabitants as had es-\\ncaped the first onslaught of the tempest. Many of these peo-\\nple sought shelter in two or three houses known to be solidlj\\nbuilt, and this proved eventually their salvation, and in that\\nway nearly 700 persons survived that fearful night.\\nFATHER GRIMEAUX.\\nDuring the lull I looked out of the window and saw a\\nyoung boy about 11 years old, clinging to a piece of timber\\nand floating toward the presbytery. I called out to the men\\nin the skiffs and told them to save that young life. But fate\\ndecreed otherwise. Just then the storm burst again with ter-\\nrific violence and carried off the little fellow, to be seen no\\nmore. The wind had shifted and now blew from the west.\\nWhatever of life and property had been spared by the south\\nwind was destroyed by the gale from the west. Trees were\\nsaapped like reedsj houses were wrecked in an instant, and", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "6oon tte Cheniere ceased to exist. Out of 450 houses only\\nfour remained, and these were filled with crowds of trembling,\\ndespairing people, bewailing not only their own sad, pitiful\\nplight, but crying out the names of loved ones carried away\\nby the merciless floods. All around and about me I could\\nsee desolation, death, ruin and wreck. Houses floated by and\\nwere seen no more. The church soon followed, I remained\\nalone.\\nAs far as I could see there was not a vestige of any hu-\\nman habitation. Under my window the seething waters flowed\\nmadly on and I could see amidst the wreckage and the sea-\\nweed a number of bodies floating on and on out of view. 1\\ncould not count them. It seemed to me like an endless,\\nghastly, horrible procession of spectres. Unable to bear that\\nterrible sight any more, I closed my eyes and leaning my fore-\\nhead on my hand, realized that everything was inextricably\\nlost. I never dreamed that I would live through that horrible\\nordeal.\\nAgain I heard those heart-rending cries. Looking on by\\na strong effort of will power, I saw floating past women and\\nchildren, some of the women holding in their arms their in-\\nfants, while some of those unfortunate young ones were tightly\\ngrasping the dresses of their mothers. Not a few were clutch-\\ning even the arms and tresses of the women. Ever and anon\\none of the little victims, apparently Worn out, would release\\nhis hold and be quickly carried away by the raging waters\\nafter a last frantic adieu.\\nA large number of people were saved by holding on to\\nfloating debris, such as parts of roofs, timbers, etc. Some of\\nthem were considerably bruised and injured, but their lives\\nwere^spared, and when morning dawned and the storm had\\nsomewhat abated, they painfully found their way to houses in\\nwhich their relatives and friends had found refuge during that\\neventful night.\\nA young boy named Cyriac Prosperi was found on these a\\nshore two days and one night after the storm. He was de-\\nprived of his clothing by the storm. His only sustenance was\\nan orange that had drifted in his way.\\nOn Monday about 3 a. m. the storm was over. My sister\\nand myself knelt down and thanked the sacred heart of Jesus\\nand Our Lady of Good Help for our safety. We had invoked\\nthem in our hour of peril and to them we owed our deliver-\\nance. At day break three men came to the presbytery and\\ngave us a ladder to enable us to descend Then a weary walk\\nbegan We waded in water waist deep, our feet sinking into\\nthe soil, thus adding to our discomfort and thus impeding our\\nprogress. We were on our way to succor the unfortunate\\npeople. Not a word was spoken; we looked at each other; we", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "understood what was to be done; tears welled up to our eyes\\nas we went along beholding new and untold miseries at every\\nstep.\\nMonday and Tuesday we hardly rested, being occupied in\\nburying the dead. Moi*e than 400 corpses wei-e unburied.\\nMany could not be found for they had been carried out to the\\ngulf. On Tuesday, more aflQiction. We began to feel the want\\nof fresh water: then we realized also that we had no provis-\\nions. The exciteme nt and the exertion in giving burial to the\\nhundreds of dead people had made us forgetful of our own\\nphysical wants. Now we felt exhausted and at night we were\\ncompletely prostrated. The odor emanating from the dead\\nbodies, both of man and beast, made the situation all the more\\nunbearable\\nThe arrival ot two boats laden with ice was hailed with\\njoy. We lost no time in melting the ice and mixing it with a\\nsmall proportion of salt water so as to increase the quantity.\\nOther boats came from the city with provisions donated by the\\ncharitable people of New Orleans.\\nThis relief was timely, for we had saved nothing at all\\nfrom the destructive storm.\\nHouses had been swept away, luggers, schooners, boats of\\nall description had been lost. We could only lay claim to a\\nfew tattered bits of clothing.\\nThe people of Cheniere and Grand Isle fervently hope and\\ntrust that the kind-hearted people of this State will hasten to\\nsend them the relief that is so imperatively and immediately\\nneeded.\\nMost of the inhabitants of the Cheniere are very poor peo-\\nple, fishermen, whose only worldly possessions were their huts\\nand their boats. These they have lost and how will they be\\nable to earn their living? Who will come to their aid and\\nhelp them to rebuild their humble abodes?\\nThis was no overdrawn picture, as was seen by the rescu-\\ning parties which went from New Orleans when the tale of de-\\nstruction reached that city two days later, and whose work\\nwill be told later on. On Monday the few survivors, worn out\\nby their long and terrible battle for life, found and buried one\\nhundred and fifty bodies; and then exhausted nature gave out,\\nthe efforts to render the last duty to the dead ceased, and they\\nthrew themselves on the bare sands to wait the rescue they\\nhardly dared hope for, or the death which now stared them in\\nthe face in another form. The salt waves which had covered\\nthe Cheniere had swept to sea every mouthful of food and\\nevery drop of fresh water; for these people had neither wells\\nnor springs, and drank only rain water caught and stored in\\ncask-like cisterns of staves and hoops, which stood above\\nground. Six hundred human beings, men, women and chil-", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "12\\ndren, on this strip of sand, cut off from the mainland by im-\\npassable marshes, with their boats destroyed and the nearest\\nhelp over fifty miles away as the crow flies, near a hundred by\\nthe bayous, the only avenue of communication, and no means\\nof making their plight known Can the hum^in imagination\\npicture a condition more terrible For twenty-four awful\\nhours no help arrived. Thei* a lugger which had gone to New\\nOrleans before the storm for ice, with which these fishermen\\npreserved their catch, returned. This ice was the salvation of\\nthe people who had escaped the fury of the tempest. It was\\nquickly melted, and mixed with sea water to increase\\nits quantity, it was nectar to the thirst-tormented sur-\\nvivors. Then came twenty-four hours more of suffer-\\niug before help came from the city Kevived by the water,\\nthe living began again to bury the dead. This had to\\nbe done in the most primitive manner. There was no lumber to\\nmake cofiins, acd neither nails nor tools to use, had there been\\nlumber; there were not even implements with which to dig the\\ngraves. 5 Long trenches were scooped in the sand with broken\\nboards and sticks and even with the bare hands of the\\ntoilers, and ten, fifteen, twenty, even thirty bodies were laid in\\nthe same grave, with only mother earth for their winding sheet\\nand the gently lapping waters of the gulf for their funeral\\nservice\\nOne of the mostly ghastly scenes after the flood was the little\\ncemetery. The ruthless water had respected God s Acre no\\nmore than it did the possessions of man, and the resting places\\nof the dead were shattered as were the dwellings of the living.\\nTombs were rent asunder, graves were torn open, crosses and\\nmonuments and headstones were destroyed. Even the crumb-\\nling bones of the dead were torn from their resting places and\\nscattered over the sites of the ruined homes of their descend-\\nants. Great trunks of trees, foul smelling seaweed, timbers torn\\nfrom the houses and the flotsom and jetsam of the surging waters\\nwere strewn in tangled chaos where the rude forefathers of the\\nhamlet slept. But the people of Cheniere, the few survivors,\\nwere unable to bury the victims of the storm, much less to re-\\npair the last resting places of their older dead; and when the\\nrescuing parties arrived from New Orleans they had all they could\\ndo in caring for the famishing remnant, in binding up the\\nwounds of the injured, and in searching on the sands of the beach,\\nin the long giass of the marshes, among the slimy recesses of the\\ndismal swamps, under the torn and shattered cypress and oaks,\\nwith their funeral drapery of sombre moss, for the bodies of the\\nnewly dead.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "13", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "14\\nCHAPTER n.\\nGRAND ISLE,\\nWhen the present century was young there was one name\\nwhich was spoken in the lowlands of South Louisiana, along the\\nsun-kissed sands of its southern shore, on the waters of the Gulf\\nof Mexico, with bated breath. It was the name of Jean Marie\\nLafitte, the pirate of the gulf. Originally a blacksmith in New\\n^fe-^^^^ 1\\n\u00c2\u00abI AM THE ONLY ONE LEFT.\\nOrleans, he became the agent of the privateers commissioned by\\nthe United States of Columbia in the struggle with Spain for in-\\ndependence. From agent to active participant was but a short\\nstep for Lafitte, and the istep from privateer to pirate was\\nshorter still Lafitte s knowledge of the country stood the band\\nin good stead. A short distance below New Orleans the country\\nthrough which the Mississippi river flows begins to contract, and\\nsoon it becomes a narrow finger of firm land running out into", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "15\\nthe gulf, the river flowing on along its middle, while its outer\\nedges are at first bounded by flat sea marsh, soon giving place\\nto the waters of the gulf which sweep up on both sides to within\\na few hundred yards of the river bank in two bold crescents\\nwhose horns meet at the point where the father of waters pours\\nhis mighty floods into the sea.\\nThis marsh country is threaded by tortuous bayous which\\nhave their sources near the river just below New Orleans, and\\nsome of them debouche from the river itself. Gradually they\\ndraw themselves away from the parent stream, and, striking\\nthrough the swamp, their sluggish currents seek the gulf to the\\nwest of the mouth of the Mississippi\\nFor a time they flow along with current so sluggish and\\nbetween banks so even and so equidistant at different points that\\nthey would be taken for artificial canals were it not for their\\nwinding course.\\nChief among these many waterways is Bayou Barataria. It\\nwinds in and out, through fertile fields and dank swamps, now\\nglittering like a silver ribbon in the sun which strikes it over the\\nverdant billows of waving cane, now sullenly gleaming like a\\nriver of ink in the shadows of the moss hung oaks a,nd cypress\\nwhose branches arch its tortuous channel. For mile^ it runs a\\nnarrow canal seeming scarce wide enough for the tijiy steamer\\nwhich beats its waters with its single wheel, or the sc^litary lug-\\nger which is the ordinary carrier of its primitive commerce; then\\nit breaks into a lake resting like a hugh pearl on the bosom of a\\nprairie; then contracting again to its normal width it glides by\\na settlement perched on its banks, again to become a lake\\nwhich glistens in the sunlight like an immense dew drop caught\\nin the dense undergrowth of an impenetral^le swamp. Now it\\nsweeps through a sea marsh over which comes the salt-laden\\nbreeze fresh from its caressing of the ocean; now it gently\\ntouches the edges of a trembling prairie, (that queer forma-\\ntion of a shell of earth in the bosom of an unfathomable depth\\nof water, whose grassy surface undulates like the sea) as if it too\\nfeared that treacherous land which has often given way beneath\\nthe feet of the venturesome hunter and made its hidden waters\\nhis unknown tomb. At last, weary of its wanderings, it meets\\nthe salt water of the gulf in Barataria bay. Lying at the mouth\\nof Barataria bay where it joins the Gulf of Mexico are the twin\\nislands of Grand Isle and Grande Terre Their oaks and under-\\ngrowth afforded a shelter for the freebooters of the deep, their\\nshallow waters, with channels known only to their constant fre-\\nquenters, gave a security to the pirate schooners from chase and\\ncapture by the deep draft war vessels, and Bayou Barataria\\nafforded an easy means of conveying spoil to secret agents in\\nthe City of New Orleans All this was well known to Jean La-\\nfitte, and when put in command he selected Grand Isle as his", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "16\\nheadquarters. Here he built store-bouses and sheds, and her\u00c2\u00a9\\nhe erected what was known as the pirate s house, until the\\nstorm of October 1, 1893, swept the last vestige of it from the\\nearth. But years before that dnte it had been put to more\\npeaceful use, and sheltered there those who were content with\\nthe spoils taken from the sea by honest toil, instead of that gar-\\nnered under the shadow of the black flag.\\nWith the passing away of the pirate crew, the fame of Grand\\nIsle for balmy breezes, and tafe surf bathing spread abroad.\\nSoon a few summer cottages made their appearance among the\\nhomes of the fishermen; then others followed; then bote s were\\nbuilt, and, finally, when the busy weavers at the loom of com-\\nmerce stretched one of their steel threads from the Crefecent\\nLAFITTE S OLD HOUSE AT GRAND ISLE.\\nCity toward Barataria Bay and began to hurl backward and for-\\nward the iron shuttle which weaves the web of our prosperity,\\nthe Ocean Club Hotel reared its pretentious form among its\\nhumbler neighbors, with room for a thousand guests; and sum-\\nmer after summer the gilded butterflies of fashion flocked from\\nthe city to spend the heated term in this romantic spot.\\nFortunately most of the summer guests had left Grand Isle\\nbefore the great storm, and this alone is the reason why the\\nmortality there did not nearly approach that at ill-fated Che-\\nniere Caminada. Had the storm occurred a month earlier, its\\nconsequences would have been appalling; for when the large sum-\\nmer hotels were wrecked by the winds and their timbers tossed\\nabout by the angry waters, had they been filled, as they were", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "-17\\nduring August and September, with women and children, those\\nwho would have escaped could have been counted on the fingers.\\nAnother thing in favor of Grand Isle is the difference be-\\ntween its formation and that of Cheniere. The last is a mere sand\\nspit, formed by the action of the waves, while Grand Isle rests\\non a rock foundation and is formed of shell deposits, drift-wood,\\nsand and the washings from alluvial Louisiana. And while the\\nwhole of Cheniere Caminada lay open to the sweep of the waves,\\nGrand Isle, on the south, is protected from the gulf by a range\\nof low sand hills, thrown up by the sea, which acted as a break-\\nwater when the hurricane seemed to hurl the gulf on human be-\\nings crouched in terror on its shore\\nWhen the storm struck Grand Isle on that terrible Sunday\\nnight there were about three hundred people on the island, most\\nof them permanent residents. Of these only some twenty-eight\\nor thirty were killed, but many were badlj injured and all suf-\\nfered severely for food and water before the arrival of the relief\\nboats. They retire early at Grand Isle, and when the tempest\\ncame nearly all the inhabitants were in bed and many were\\nasleep. Two sailors, Ertivez and Mergovich, who were up and\\nout of doors gave a graphic description of the scene. They\\nsaid the wind had been rather high in the afternoon and in-\\ncreased to a gale when night fell. About ten o clock they went\\nout of the house. The storm was then seemingly at its height\\nand they became afraid the island would be overwhelmed, and\\nthey determined to try and escape in a boat to the mainland.\\nThey ran to a cove where the boat was beached and worked\\namid the roar of tempest, the crash of falling trees and shattered\\nhouses and the thundering of the water on the shore, to launch\\ntheir frail craft Then, said they, there came a lull. For an\\ninstant that seemed like an age, there was perfect quiet, and then\\nthe warring of the elements began again with redoubled force.\\nThe wind had chopped around and now blew in almost a directly\\nopposite direction from its former course. The first blow had\\nforced the waters in from the gulf and had set a strong cur-\\nrent in shore. The second blow forced back this water and with\\nit that of the bay and the bayous behind the islands, and started\\na counter current running out to sea. When these two mighty\\nmasses of water met in the gulf off shore a wave was created\\nwhose foam decked crest towered thirty feet in the air, and\\nwhich rushed upon the devoted island.\\nBy the flash of the lightning which illumined the inky dark-\\nness these sailors saw this tidal wave sweeping down like the\\nbesom of destruction. What could puny human might do The\\nsand hills which had been counted upon as a protection were no\\nmore than so many straws in the path of this awful wave. It tore\\nthem as the incoming tide destroys the- sand piles the child-\\nren build in their play It swept over them as if they had been", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "18\\nM\u00c2\u00ab7\\nJ I\\nQ o M", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "19\\nbut ripples in the sand left by a retiring tide and rushed to com-\\nplete the work of destructiou the wind had commenced. The\\nisland was engulfed. Houses were washed away, cattle were\\ndrowned, trees were torn from the ground and tossed like straws\\nin its boiling surface The railroad track leading from one of\\nthe hotels down to the beach was utterly destroyed: the ties\\nwere torn from the ground and splintered as if -by axes in the\\nhands of a thousand woodmen; the rails were wrenched apart\\nand, borne like corks by the angry waters, and tossed hundreds\\nof yards away, some of them wrapped and twined around trees,\\nas if some mighty Vulcan had done it in sportive derision of his\\nhuman imitators.\\nKrantz s Hotel, a collection of cottages with a large assem-\\nbly hall and dining room at either end, was utterly destroyed,\\nand Captain Krantz, the proprietor, severely injured, his life be-\\ning saved by the exertions of a servant.\\nThe Ocean Club Hotel, a large three story structure, built\\nwith a special view of resisting storms, with its planking doubled\\nand spiked on at right angles, and the whole building buttressed\\nwith three large Ls, was wrecked. The upper story was swept\\naway and utterly destroyed, while the two lower ones were\\ntwisted and torn out of all semblance of a house. Windows and\\ndoors were beaten in, great gaps were torn in the walls and\\nwreckage and seaweed and dead bodies of animals were piled in\\nand over it. The house built by Jean Lafitte, a strong substan-\\ntial cottage on brick pillars, and occupied as a dwelling, was ut-\\nterly destroyed; not a stick of its timbers was left on its site;\\neven the foundation was torn to pieces, and only a few scattered\\nbricks were left to mark the spot where once it stood. The house\\nwhere he had lived and the shop where he had worked in New\\nOrleans had long before fallen before the march of improvement,\\nand now the storm had erased the last trace left in Louisiana of\\nthe pirate of the gulf.\\nCaptain Krantz gave to a reporter of the New Orleans Pica-\\nyune the following graphic account of the storm;\\nI am 70 years old, and for many years have owned the Grand\\nIsle Hotel I am a widower with four children. On the night\\nof the storm I was at home. I did not expect that anything\\nserious would happen. The wind rose about 9 o clock and blew\\nhard. At 11 o clock it changed and blew from the varying points\\nfrom northwest to southwest at intervals of fifteen minutes there-\\nafter. In about half an hour the water on the grounds around\\nthe hotel was fully five feet deep. A terrible gust of wind struck\\nthe house and knocked it over. A portion of the building fell on\\nme, and for a time I thought our last hour had come.* Fortun-\\nately the water continued to rise, and in about ten minutes I felt\\nthe weight pressing heavily upon my body gradually removed.\\nI was lying on a beam. I was washed away from under the house,", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "20\\nthe water carrying me with it for a distance of twenty-five feet\\nI was struck and became unconscious. For several hours I did\\nnot know what had occurred to me. When I regained conscious-\\nness it was 5 o clock on Sunday morning. I was still clinging\\nto the beam, which was firmly embedded in the ground opposite\\nmy bathhouse. I received very serious injuries. In my feeble\\ncondition I returned to what had been the hotel, but out of the\\nthirty-eight cottages which formerly stood there only twenty\\nwere left. There was not a particle of food to be found, every-\\nthing having been washed away, including all the wearing ap-\\nparel. I estimate my loss at from $75,000 to $100,000.\\nThe first boat which went to the relief of the sufferers carried\\nthe son of the old captain to his father s rescue. The relief boat\\nmet one of the few luggars left by the storm on its way to New\\nOrleans for help, and Captain Krantz was on board. The meet-\\ning between father and son was most affecting. The injured\\nveteran was brought aboard the steamer and made as comforta-\\nble as possible, and with careful nursing was finally restored to\\nhealth f\\nOne of the most thrilling experiences at Grand Isle on that\\nnight of horrors was that of the crew of the little steamer Joe\\nWebre, the boat that has for many years travelled back and forth\\nbetween New Orleans and Grand Isle, carrying the crowds that\\nsought the beautiful island resort in winter and summer. Many a\\nstorm^she safely weathered, but at last she went to pieces and\\nonly her name remaius to remind many of happy trips down the\\nbayous and across the little lakes, that dot the course between\\nNew Orleans and Grand Isle. When the wind became danger-\\nously strong, extra ropes were put out, and eight inch and a\\nquarter cables were hove about the piles of Grand Isle pier\\nwhere the storm overtook the boat. To relieve the terrific strain\\non the cables, a full head of steam was turned on, and everyone\\non the boat stood ready for the worst when it came. The skies\\ngrew blacker, and the waves rose higher and higher, their crests\\nlashed to white foam, and in the depths between, the phosphor-\\nescent gleaming of the churned water caused the boat to seem\\nabout to plunge in an abyss of fire when she started down from\\nthe top of a huge wave. The cables parted and the Webre\\ndrifted out into the gulf at the mercy of the wind. Debris from\\nruined Cheniere Caminada and Grand Isle drifted by her and\\ndashed against her sides. When the wind lulled for a few mo-\\nments, the cries of wounded and dying came from the distant\\nislands and added to the horror of the night. Then the Webre\\ntrembled from stanchion to keel, and the cabin was blown to\\npieces. The crew, Captain McSweeney, George Rolf, engineer;\\nPilot Pegreagan, Richard, pantryman; Albert Foster, cook;\\nElizabeth Lyle, chambermaid, an d Charley Green, deck hand, all\\ngathered on deck and together left the boat in a yawl when they", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "|Q\u00c2\u00bb. J^i esSa\\nfeaW siie Was stire to go to pieces. Just as they pulled Out IrOiH\\nthe boat a lull came a dead calm fell upon the waters and not\\neven the smallest zephyr ruffled the waves. But the quiet that\\ncame so suddenly seemed ominous, and all expected what follow-\\ned a renewal of the storm with tenfold fury. But the wind had\\nshifted and now came from off the island. Each gust was fiercer\\nthan the last and the crew saw the Webre go down, while their\\nskiff was overturned and dashed to pieces. Fortunately the crew\\nwere beside a tree that had withstood the assault of wind and\\nwaves, and they took refuge in its branches.\\nThe chambermaid was a negro woman who weighed nearly\\n300, and it may be easier imagined than described how she was\\nhauled up in the tree and held there while the gale blew with\\nterrific force. George Rolfs, Jr., the brave engineei tells the\\nfollowing story:\\nTHE WRKCK OP THE JOE WEBRE.\\nI will never forget my experience. We were all on board\\nof the boat when the storm arose. Steam was up and we were\\npi-eparing to go. The wind increased lo such an extent that we\\nwere obliged in order to keep our feet to hold on to the hog\\nchains The boat was striking the wharf with such power that\\nit became difficult for us to stir. The hogchain parted speedily\\nunder the strain, and then we took refuge beside the ice box.\\nA. wave swept the deck and soon carried the latter protection\\nfrom us. The wind then suddenly calmed, and we took shelter\\nin the pilot house. Soon we had to leave that spot. Our next\\nattempt to find a place of safety caused us nearly to be washed", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "overboard. The boat was becoming a wreck, slie having parted\\nfrom her moorings. We launched the yawlboat and rowed\\nthrough the darkness for the Grand Isle Hotel. After pulling\\nhard for some time, we reached the place where the buildings\\nwere supposed to be located, and were surprised to find nothing\\nbut a continuous sheet of turbulent water. The entire party\\nclimbed an oak tree and remained there till daylight when we\\ndescended. The water had then abated considerably, and was\\nnot more than two feet deep We walked to an old shanty,\\nwhere we found refuge for several hours. We finally left there\\nin search of Captain Krantz. In our search we visited a house in\\nwhich there was an old lady, a woman and a young girl, where\\nwe remained until the water had entirely disappeared. Word\\nhaving reached us that Captain Krantz was alive and not very\\nseriously injured, we returned to the wharf. Here we found\\nthat the Joe Webre had been blown back and was high and dry\\non the ground. She was a total wreck. She had broken clean\\nin half.\\nThe boat was lifted from her place in front of Grand Isle\\nby the wind when it veered, and she was carried 250 feet inland,\\nand now lies across the railroad track built by Captain Kranz to\\ncarry guests from the hotel to the bay, high and dry, a complete\\nwreck.\\nGeo. Rolfs, Jr., the engineer of the wrecked steamer, Joe\\nWebre, has a memento of the storm in the shape of his gold\\nwatch, which he wore until the beating rain drenched his cloth-\\ning, and he took it off and placed it under his pillow in his\\nstateroom, where, a few moments later, the fireman also placed\\nhis watch, both men supposing by so doing they would save\\ntheir time pieces from a soaking. But the vessel went to pieces,\\nand the cabin was blown away, and its remnants were scattered\\nfar and wide over the waters, and in that hour of peril, when\\nthe crew left the boat, expecting to find watery graves, neither\\nMr. Rolfs nor the fireman gave a thought to their watches.\\nAfterward, when they were rescued, they exchanged mutual\\ncondolence at the loss of their timepieces, never expecting to see\\nthem again, as they knew the cabin of the Webre had been\\nblown to pieces and carried to sea. But when Mr. Geo. Rolfs,\\nfather was sent to examine the hulk of the wrecked Webre,\\nten days later, he saw something gleaming among the sand and\\ndirt in the hull, and to his amazement brought to light his son s\\nwatch, when he dug up the shining metal from its bed of mud.\\nWhere its companion, the fireman s timepiece is, cannot be con-\\njectured, but Mr. Rolfs prizes his water-soaked watch far more\\nthan he did when it ticked regularly and told him the time for\\nstarting his boat on her trips.\\n1 Just to the east of Grand Isle lies Grande Terre, also an\\nisland. Here the storm was equally severe, but no lives were", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "-23-\\nlost, owing, no doubt, to the fact that but few persons were\\nthere, and these few took refuge in the fort built there by the\\nUnited States government on the west end of the island to guard\\nthe channel which passes between Grande Terre and Grand Isle\\ninto Barataria bay But as solid as was this massive work it\\ncould not withstand the furious assaults of the ocean For a\\nwhile the sturdy fortification repulsed the attacks of the waves\\nas they thundered up the beach against its grassy sides But\\nat last a breach was made; the works of man could not stand\\nforever before the irresistible assaults of nature in her might.\\nThe angle of the fort next the gulf was torn off and the waves,\\nfollowing each other like the successive lines of an assaulting\\narmy, entered the works. They wrought still further destruc-\\ntion on slope and glacis, in casemate and on rampart; but those\\nwho had entered the fort for safety retired to the part which the\\nwaters spared, and all escaped. Here, as elsewhere, houses\\nwere leveled, trees were torn from the earth, animals were\\nkilled by the storm and drowned in the rising waters, property\\nwas destroyed and men were beggared, but Grande Terre was\\none of the few spots where was not heard the wailing of the\\nsaved for the untimely dead.\\nCHAPTER III. o;\\nON THE MISSISSIPPI.\\nThe storm did not confine itself to the islands of Barataria\\nBay alone, nor even to the coast line of the gulf. Its ravages\\nwere felt far up the Mississippi river. Nor were those ravages\\nfelt alone along the narrow tongue of land through which the\\nriver flows for the last few miles of its length, as has been de-\\nscribed heretofore, but they were manifest far inland where the\\nwind and water from the gulf had to sweep over a wide stretch\\nof country to reach the banks of the father of waters. A few\\nmiles below New Orleans the settled and cultivated country be-\\ngins to contract and it grows narrower and narrower until just\\nabove forts Jackson and St. Philip it ceases altogether and the\\nriver sweeps from there to sea between marshy banks, with only\\nhere and there the hut of a fisherman, or other person who\\ndraws his living from the water, to break the monotony of the\\nview. \u00c2\u00bbThere is one exception, and that is the group of build-\\nings which compose the Louisiana Quarantine Station the\\npost where stand the sentinels who guard the Mississippi Val-\\nley from invasion by contagious and infectious diseases. These\\nbuildings include the large fumigating house, the boat house and\\ntelegraph station, the storehouse and the quarters for the phy-\\nsicians and employees who are always stationed there And\\nlaying at the wharf, or sheltered in the boat house are the fumi-", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "3-i\\ngating tug boat, tlie steam launch SlvA the Humei ous to^ boats*\\nlarge and small, with which the station is equipped.\\nFrom the quarantine station to the gulf the river banks\\nare duplicates of what they are above, except where the hand of\\nman has changed them for his purposes. At the head of the\\npasses, where the river spreads itself like the fingers of an\\nopened hand, and seeks the gulf by three different channels,\\ncommence the Eads Jetties, those mighty works which have\\nharnessed the theretofore wasted power of the resistless river\\nand made it dig its own bed and deepen its own channel. To\\nthe one who sees them for the first time they are disappointing,\\nfor there is little to show for the money which has been spent\\nand the results which have been accomplished. But these great\\nworks are chiefly beneath the water, with only the heads of the\\npiles and a few stones showing above the surface. But as you ap-\\nproach the gulf the jetties show more and more until the sea-\\nwall, built of great blocks of granite, give evidence that man has\\nindeed been here at work.\\nj.-^ At the very mouth of the river, perched between^the river\\nand the gulf, is Port Eads. Here is the first boarding station\\nof the quarantine, and here also are the homes of the pilots\\nwho take in and out of the river the ocean carriers who make\\nNew Orleans their port. How these places were served by the\\nstorm will be told at the proper time in this story; the inten-\\ntion now is to try and give the reader some idea of the river,\\nor at least that part of it which suffei-ed on the night of Sun-\\nday, October 1, 1893. The first point below New Orleans where\\nthe storm commenced to do its work of destruction was the\\nold Poydras plantation. From there down, Stella, Monse-\\ncour. Old Harlem, Myrtle Grove, Savoy, Belleview, Hebert s,\\nLivaudais, Sardelot s, in short, all of the plantations suffered\\nmore or less from the storm. Houses were unroofed or blown\\ndown, fences were leveled, the crops of cane and rice were\\nbadly injured, animals were killed or drowned, and sugar\\nhouses were badly damaged by the wind and water; but, for-\\ntunately no lives were lost.\\nAt Point Celeste a large negro church was torn from its\\nfoundations by the storm, carried over a quarter of a mile and\\ndeposited squarely across the track of the New Orleans, Fort\\nJackson and Grand Isle Railroad.\\nAt Tropical Bend occurred the first loss of life on the\\nriver. Here several colored people lost their lives, some from\\ndrowning, but most from flying timbers. Near here occurred\\nthe pathetic death of Mrs. Lafrance, which is related elsewhere.\\nThe only town of any size on the Mississippi river below\\nNew Orleans is Pointe-a-la-Hache, the seat of justice of Plaque-\\nmines parish. The ravages of the storm here were frightful.\\nNearly every house in the little town was badly damaged;", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "u", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "^26-\\ninany of tliem were blown down. Its three churclies wer6\\nunroofed, their windows were destroyed, their doors blown in,\\nand they werfe deluged with water. The jail was unroofed,\\nand the courthouse, just finished at a cost of $16,000, was badly\\ninjured; the slates were torn from the roof, the doors and win-\\ndows were smashed and the massive clock tower with its costly\\nclock, was thrown to the ground a mass of bi oken bricks. As\\nthe demon of the storm shrieked through the place, the air\\nwas filled with flying debris; bricks and timbers were hurled\\nthrough the air as if they had been feathers and straw. The\\nterrified inhabitants knew not what to do; the crashing of\\nhouses warned them that death lurked for them in the dwell-\\nings that sheltered them, while the missies of destruction\\nwhich hurtled through the darkness of the night without were\\nalmost certain death to anyone who sought to escape in the\\nopen air.\\nThe family of Mr. Mandots met with serious injuries. The\\nfamily was huddled up in the house when the tornado struck\\nit, and in less time than it takes to tell, the force of the wind\\nhad splintered the rafters and blown the house down on top\\nof the unfortunates who had trusted to its security.\\nThe ferry-boat at Pointe-a-la-Hache was caught by the\\ngale, and before a rope could be started or another line se-\\ncured, the ferry was smashed into kindling wood. Two lug-\\ngers, which were hugging the shore to avoid the fury of the\\ngale, were caught as the tornado swerved and they also shared\\nthe general fate.\\nThroughout the time of the gale the rain fell in a perfect\\nsheet. The drops were large, and the violence of the wind\\nwas so great as to give one subjected to the rain the sensation\\nof being assailed by a million peas hurled with mighty force.\\nA sample of the force and fury of the wind was seen in the\\ncondition of two cars of the New Orleans, Fort Jackson and\\nGrand Isle road at this point. They had been standing on\\nthe track at the station hitched to other cars of the train, and\\nthe big wind that swept the town picked them up completely\\nfrom the earth, breaking the coupling pin that connected them\\nwith the other cars of the train and turning them over. The\\nescape of the two men inside was nothing short of miraculous.\\nThe cars were jammed into the soft mud alongside the rail-\\nroad and the windows and cornice work were smashed to\\npieces. The heavy iron truck work underneath was torn\\nasunder as though it had been so much thread.\\n;A reporter of the New Orleans Picayune thus described\\nthe scene in and around the newspaper ofSce in Pointea-la-\\nHache next day:\\nThe first place to attract attention was the little printing\\noffice of the Plaquemines Protector, the newspaper of the par-", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "-27-\\nisli, edited by Robert E. Hingle. Mr. Hingle is one example\\nof the indomitable spirit of the newspaper man. His office\\nand print shop is a small frame structure, standing out on the\\nroad, and it bears the resemblance of having been on a pro-\\ntracted drunk. In shipping parlance, it is on its beam ends,\\nand is kept from collapsing by two or three braces. All the\\ntype and everythiner else in the structure, was pied heaped\\nabout in indescribable confusion. He managed to save one\\nform with the type locked in it, partially intact, and this, with\\nwith the aid of an assistant, he has distributed in a battered\\ncase, set up in a room adjoining the store, and despite the\\nwork of the elements he will issue his paper as usual, though\\nin a necessarily abbreviated form.\\nThe home of his nephew, a neat frame cottage was blown\\nto pieces, and some of the pieces of timber hurled about with\\nsuch force that they stuck in the ground 10 feet deep. The\\nescape of the family was miraculous. The high wind in the\\nearly part of the night warned them to be on the lookout, and\\nas the storm grew in intensity their alarm increased, for the\\ncreaking of the timbers in the house told them it was unsafe.\\nA falling cornice decided them to leave it, and no sooner had\\nthey gone when it collapsed with a crash. Not a member of\\nhis family or his nephew s family sustained the slightest injury,\\nother reports, to the contrary, notwithstanding,\\nA short distance further on a sad sight was presented.\\nThere stood what had but two days before been a handsome,\\nroomy house, with nothing but the gaunt, bare weather-beaten\\nwalls standing and the roof and chimney scattered in all direc-\\ntions. In the rear the kitchen, evidently a more substantial\\nstructure, stood comparatively intact, and here the family of\\nMaurice Maurin were huddled. The bedding and clothing of\\nthe family were hanging on clothes lines, and the projecting\\nportions of the battered house, drying, for the rain had thor-\\noughly wet everything in the house and kitchen. None of the\\npeople were injured, as they left the tottering building just\\nbefore it fell. The stable in the rear dropped as if a heavy\\nweight had crushed it flat down; only the roof was perfectly\\nintact.\\nThese scenes could be repeated over and over again, but\\nenough has been given to convey some idea of the destruction at\\nthis point.\\nBohemia is a little hamlet on the river below Poiute-a-la-\\nHache, and is the temporary terminus of the railroad. This is\\na little village comprising fifty or more negroes, who live in\\nsmall wooden cabins. This is Dr. Herbert s rice plantation, and\\nis about five miles below Pointe-a-la-Hache. The cabins, nuaa-\\nbering probably twenty, are in a double row, facing a roadway\\nwhich runs from the levee back to the rear. The greater vio\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "SU. CifA\\niettce ot ttie storin seemed to have been exei te(^ Oh tii6 l 6W 6tl\\nthe north side of the road. The first cabin was apparently in-\\ntact, but its roof was damaged to such an extent that it is really\\nuninhabitable. The next was more than half demolished, and\\nbedding and cookiog utensils and other household goods were\\nscattered in utmost confusion over the debris. Of the third\\ncabin naught remained but the flooring and the founda-\\ntions, and the same may be said of all the rest in this part of\\nthe village.\\nBedding and clothing were scattered everywhere, and the\\nformer residents seemed not to have made any efforts to secure\\ntheir property, or rather what was left of it. At the end of the\\nrow there was a boarding-house, a structure of fair size, alto-\\ngether of wood. The bare floor is all that is left, and standing\\nup in the center, in seeming mockery of the work of the elements,\\nwas a sewing machine, which seemed to be still in perfect con-\\ndition\\nOf the houses on the south row, every one had rough board\\nporticoes. These porticoes had all been broken off at their junc-\\ntion with the body of the house and forced down like the cover\\nof a book over the doors and windows. At the end of the road-\\nway there had formerly been an old wooden sugarhouse. It\\nhad been a commodious structure, but no longer served its ori-\\nginal purpose, and had been for a long time used as a storehouse\\nfor grain and threshing machines. It was piled up in a tangled\\nheap. The threshing machines were badly damaged, as well as\\nthe other contents of the building.\\nOn the north side of the roadway there had also been a large\\nstructure used as a stable. This collapsed, and over twenty-five\\nhead of cattle, which were in it, were killed.\\nOnly one person was injured here, and she was a woman,\\nwho was only slightly hurt.\\nThe 80-foot carsheds at Bohemia were seen lying flat or\\nheaped on top of some freight cars. There is a wharf there,\\nwhere it was expected that steamers would land, but not many\\never stop there. Two freight cars were lying half over on their\\nsides, and beyond the wharf the water had run over the levee\\nand washed it badly.\\nTwo hundred feet from this s^Dot was a heap of debris the\\nremnant of the cabin occupied by Charlotte Koinkel, a negress.\\nShe was a young woman, and had but recently rented the place\\nwhich fell upon her and crushed her life out in an instant.\\nThe Grand Prairie extends for a great distance below Bohe-\\nmia, and also comprises what is known as the Union settlement.\\nThis place contains about 100 inhabitants, not more, and but\\nthree cabins were left standing Four casualties occurred here.\\nThe names of the dead are- Wily Anderson, a son of John Per-\\nrot, a daughter of Henry Johnson, one unknown man. All these\\nwere colored.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "29\\nFrom here on down to the Quarantine Station it was the\\nsame story destruction of life and property\u00e2\u0080\u0094 over and over\\nagain, and to repeat it would be but to barrow up the feelings\\nof the reader.\\nOn Magnolia plantation (Gov. Warmoth s) the wreck was\\ntenible. Many buildings had been unroofed and some of\\nthe bouses had been wholly wrecked. The sugarhouse had been\\npartially unroofed and while the orunge trees had weathered tbe\\nstorm pretty well, the ground was literally covered with well\\nmatured fruit. Tbe immense cane field which was one of the\\nfinest in tbe State had been blown flat, a considerable portion\\nhaving been literally blown out of the ground.\\nA WRECKED INTERIOR.\\nThis was one of the finest plantations in the State, and the\\norange grove was the finest in the South. The damage here was\\nnot less than |25,000, but the ex-governor bore his losses like a\\nstoic the only remark he made being Thank God, none of my\\npeople were killed.\\nThe magnificent quarantine station of the State of Louisi-\\nana, described at the beginning of this chapter, suffered 8everel3^\\nThe medical staff at the station anticijoated a storm, but not a\\ndestructive one like that which visited the place. Sunday night\\nthe Quarantine tugboat Asp inwall, with Captain John Eoig, En-\\ngineer James O Neill, and a manly crew, was lying near the quar-\\nantine wharf. The boat had steam up, and was waiting for", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "30\\nthe heavy winds to abate some, so as to make a trip to one of\\nthe steamers, for the purpose of disinfecting and fumigating it\\nShe had been on the leeward shore, and was just moving out\\nwhen the storm began in all its fur}^ and the tug was blown on\\nthe batture. The jar was a terrible one, and as the boat plowed on\\nthe batture the greater portion of the upper works was torn ofl.\\nThe crew were thrown forcibly on their faces, and they began at\\nonce to try and escape from the almost wrecked boat. Then\\nbegan a struggle to get ashore, and after running the greatest of\\nrisks of life and limb they reached there safely, but badly shaken\\nup and frightened from their terrible experience. There were\\nmen in the messroora, and the wind blew with such velocity that\\nevery moment the men thought their place of shelter would be\\nblown down and all lost. They tried to escape, and after a diffi-\\ncult struggle in the wind and blinding rain they reached the\\nshed where the iron heating cylinders are, and crawled in the\\ncylinders for safety. These cylinders are made of boiler iron,\\nand are about fifty feet loug and six feet in diameter. They are\\nthree in number and Id to them all textile fabrics from suspected\\nvessels are put and are subjected to a treatment by dry heat and\\nmoist heat, the cylinders being hermetically sealed. These\\nstructures proved arks of safety for the men at the station while\\nthe work of destruction was going on outside.\\nThe plank walks were blown away, and it was at the\\ngreatest risk for one to try and leave the place where he was\\nfor safer quarters. The weather-boarding of the boathouse\\nwas torn away, and the physician s launch was wrecked, with\\na few big skiffs. The big roof over the disinfecting shed was\\nblown almost completely off, only a small portion remaining.\\nAll along the course of the wind, trees and crops were des-\\ntroyed, and a few small cabins were blown down, but there\\nwas no one reported as being hurt or killed.\\nThe Charles Chamberlin, a towboat belonging to the\\nOcean Towboat Company, was lying along side a barkentine\\nwhen the storm came up, and to seek the harbor and tie up, the\\nboat left the barkentine and tried to make the dangerous trip.\\nThe wind tossed her on the big swelling waves and with great\\nforce sent her into a rice field, so that she could not get off.\\nNo one was hurt and a portion of her crew was sent in a row-\\nboat to the Quarantine station and asked that the Aspinwall\\nbe sent to the imperilled boat s assistance, but that tug was\\nalso in need of assistance. The Aspinwall was damaged to\\nthe extent of about $3500, while the Chamberlin was probably\\ndamaged to the extent of a few hundred dollars. There were\\nother trifling damages done to a few smaller boats, but not to\\nany great extent. Fortunately here there was no loss of life.\\nAt the Jetties, where the yellow flood of the mighty Mis-\\nsissippi plunges into the green waters of the gulf, the storns.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "31\\nraged furiously; the -wind shrieked across the narrow tongue\\nof land like a thousand demons. The gauge showed that its\\nvelocity exceeded one hundred miles an hour. The driving\\nrain was hurled by the wind until it stung like red hot shot.\\nThe veterans among the bar pilots, those old salts who have\\nspent their lives battling with the elements, declared that\\nnothing in their experience had ever equalled it. Everything\\nloose was picked up and hurled far out to sea; the jetties\\nwere stripped bare of everything movable in the twinkling of\\nan eye. But things there were built for blows, and but little\\ndamage was done. As the gale increased the long, steady\\nswell of the gulf increased until at last the towering waves\\nthundered against the sea wall and, making a clean breach\\nover wall and jetties and land, they rolled to join the salt\\nwater on the other side of the delta. The people on the west\\nshore took refuge in the lighthouse, which stood like a rock,\\nits beacon light shining out over the raging waters like the\\nstar of hope; the people on the east bank gathered in the\\nsmall hotel which rocked like a ship in the gale, but which\\nweathered the storm in safety. There was one death here.\\nJames Casey, the watchman for the jetty company, went out\\nto see if he could do anything for the safety of the property\\ncommitted to his care. He was begged not to go, but he an-\\nswered It s my duty, and out into the storm he went. He\\nhad gone but a short distance along the narrow jetty when\\nthe wind lifted him from his feet and hurled him far out into\\nthe raging waters. He battled bravely for his life, and his\\ncries for help could be heard above the howling of the storm.\\nBut no boat could live an instant in those seething waters, nor\\nwas there a boat left, all had been swept away; and so brave\\nJim Casey went down to death, a martyr to duty.\\nWhile the storm was raging the worst, when the wind was\\nshrieking as if all the fiends of pandemonium were unchained,\\nand the rain drove in horizontal sheets, the people crouching\\nterrified in the lighthouse and hotel were dumbfounded to hear\\nthe hoarse notes of a steamship s whistle It did not seem pos-\\nsible that any ship made by mortal hands could live in that ter-\\nrific tempest, and a few of the hardiest spirits ventured to look\\nout, not knowing whether or not they would see some spectre\\nship or demon steamer ploughing through the air. To their as-\\ntonishment, almost horror, they saw the dark form and flashing\\nlights of an ocean steamer steadily coming on as she held her\\nway, seemingly in contempt of the warring elements, straight\\ndown the centre of the river on her way to sea. It was the great\\nMorgan Liner, El Cid, which put to sea in the teeth of the tem-\\npest, her captain, with the grand confidence of the veteran\\nsailor in his trusty ship, preferring to risk the open water rather\\nthan trust his vessel and cargo to the mercy of the angry waters\\nwhich were lashing the shore.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "32\\nAll along the Mississippi, on both banks, from Pointe-a-la-\\nHache to the Jetties, nearly a hundred miles, were strewn the\\nwrecks of boats and luggers, the debris of houses, the bodies of\\nanimals, and the ghastly corpses of men and women and little\\nchildren; while over it all nature, as if in shame of her own\\ndeeds, had spread a thick mantle of sea weed swept in from the\\nGulf of Mexico and a pall of the long marsh grass torn from the\\nprairie which she had scourged in her fury.\\nOn either side of the Mississippi river, in the marsh land\\nbetween the river and the gulf, is a stretch of country threaded\\nby numerous bayous, some known by names familiar to all, some\\nwith only a local nomenclature, and others so small that they are\\nnot deemed worthy of the dignity of a distinct appellation.\\nAlong these bayous, great and small, were settlements, places\\nwhich the hardy fishermen called home, where the smile of\\nthe wife and the prattle of the babes greeted their home-coming\\nafter the day of toil and often of danger. That section to the\\neast of the river is known as the Louisiana Marsh, while that\\nto the west, comprising Bayou Cook, Bayou Shute, Grand Ba-\\nyou, Grand Lake, Bayou Chato and many others whose names\\nwould mean nothing to the reader, was known by the generic\\nname of the Bayou Cook Country.\\nHere, the storm worked awful havoc on both life and i:)rop-\\nerty. While the loss of life was not so severe as at Cheniere Cam-\\ninada, nor as great in proportion as it was at Bayou Andre\\n(where none escaped), yet a death roll of over a hundred and\\nfifty sent mourning and desolation into every household, save\\nwhere there were no living left to mourn the dead.\\nSunday is religiously observed by the Bayou Cook people.\\nThe little landing in front of their houses was crowded with lug-\\ngers, smacks, small boats, skiffs and other craft used by them in\\nfishing. These little boats were moored along side of each other\\nand they were so numerous that they occupied a space of nearly\\n100 feet in the water.\\nThe residences of the Bayou Cook people were not by any\\nmeans handsome structures. They were built more for solidity\\nthan beauty. They were all one-story houses, strongly put to-\\ngether, for it was nothing extraordinary for a gale to sweep over\\nthe settlement at any time, and a lightly constructed house would\\nnever be able to stand these winds. Therefore, the Bayou Cook\\npeople knew from experience jnst what was safe, and accord-\\ningly they built their houses to stand an ordinary hurricane.\\nThe storm of that Sunday night, however, was no ordinary one.\\nIt was the worst blow that ever swept over that portion of the\\ncountry, and the little houses that lined the banks of the cur-\\nving Bayou Cook were blown away like so much chaff.\\nJust at what hour the disaster occurred that swept the set-\\ntlement out of existence will probably never be known. It", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "33\\nmust have been in the neighborhood of midnight. The simple\\nfishermen, their wives and their children were not asleep when\\nthe cyclone struck them in its full force. Experience had taught\\nthem that it was safe on the outside than in the inside of a house\\nwhile a gale was in progress. This storm was such an unusual\\none that everybody in the village huddled together in the down-\\npour of rain, and sent up many a prayer to the Almighty. When\\nthe storm broke in all its fury, house after house went down.\\nThe bayou began to rise at an alarming rate, and soon was level\\nwith the banks. Off in the distance could be heard the roar of\\nthe rapidly encroaching waves from the Gulf. Pandemonium\\nreigned among the fisherman. Husbands forgot wives and\\nmothers forgot children. It was a trying moment for everyone,\\nand each and every individual felt that their lives were about to\\nbe sacrificed. Already many had been caught up by the wind\\nand blown with terrific force against the wrecks of their homes,\\nwhere they lay stunned and bleeding.\\nAs the water in the bayou began to run out of its banks, the\\nluggers, fishing smacks and other craft, which had been torn\\nloose from their moorings, were swept ashore and mowed down\\nthe people by the dozens. Many of them were killed in this\\nmanner. The water rose with alarming rapidity. It soon cov-\\nered the land, and gradually rose until it was waist deep. Those\\nwho had survived thus far clung to the debris from their homes,\\nwhich was floating around in a tangled mass. Some succeeded\\nin climbing on doors and windows, while others were satisfied to\\ncatch hold of a single plank to keep them from sinking beneath\\nthe foam-crested waves. In this manner they were swept back\\ninto the swamps, many to perish from drowning, having become\\nexhausted and slid from their impromptu rafts, and sank be-\\nneath the dark waters. Others were dashed to pieces against\\ntrees and shrubbery, but the majority were borne out of sight,\\nand many that were fortunate enough to survive the wind and\\nwater died from exposure before they could be rescued from\\ntheir deplorable situation.\\nAmong the men who escaped from Grand Lake were Cusue\\nMurno of the lugger Atlas, Martel Zebilitzh and Pierre Zeblitizh\\nof the lugger Bon Pere Their lugger had gone to the city\\nand they had been left in charge of the fishing camp. The storm\\nhad come upon them and they climbed to the roof of their cabin\\nto escape from the rising waters. There they heard the cries of\\ntheir terrified, drowning comrades, as the wrecked luggers went\\ndrifting swiftly past them in the storm and darkness, with\\ntheir crews shrinking in mortal terror. Then their cabin was\\ndashed to pieces and they were struggling in the water amid\\nthe storm and darkness. They kept together as they floated on\\nthe waves until one of them was dashed against an old pile or\\npicket that was firmly fixed in the ground. He clung to it for", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "hi-s life and called liis comrades. They all held to the picket\\n\\\\mtil Monday evening, when the suT)sidence of the storm en-\\nabled them to swim to shoal water. They then wandered about\\nin the marshes until Tuesday morning, and, finally reaching\\nthe railroad, boarded the train, barefooted, bareheaded and in\\na half-famished condition.\\nMr. Fred Ziblich, a resident of Bayou Co( k, sums up the\\nstorm, in a letter written to his brother, in New Orleans, two\\ndays af forwards, thus:\\nThe loss of life here is terrible, and it seems that there is\\nhardly anyone in the neighborhood of Bayou Cook left to tell\\nthe tale of the storm and its destructive work. Only twenty\\npeople altogether have escaped from the storm in the bayou\\nwith their lives and they all till a tale of horror and death.\\nThere is not a family but what has lost a member, or several\\nmembers. Some fan.ilies have be(n lest altogether, my wife is\\namong the dead, but I don t linow where they are and what has\\nbecome of them. I was aw-ay from the house and could not get\\nback in tiae to save them, if saving would have been possible.\\nIt is terrible, and words will never describe the horror, the de-\\nstrTOtion, the death and the great loss of property. There is\\nhardly a house left in the whole neighborhood, and a great\\nmany of them have been carried away an dlost altogether. Boats\\nare washed upon the New Orleans and Fort Jackson Railroad\\nand loclged there.\\nThree days after the stoim Mr. Tony Anasawovich, another\\nof the survivors, said to a reporter of the New Orleans Picayune:\\nThe story of the storm at bayou Cook and Grand bayou\\nwill never be truthfully told. It is impossible to paint a picture\\nof the scenes of desolation. The entire country has been laid\\nwaste by the elements and there is scarcely ahoose left standing\\nwhere there once existed happy homes and a prosperous colony.\\nThe camps have all been swept out of existence and the country\\nis covered with every describable manner of debris and with tlie\\nbodies of the dead, not all of which have yet been gathereel for\\ninterment. It will probably be difficult to recover the bodies of\\nall who were lost. Many of them were swept into the marshes.\\nFamilies have been torn apart and many wiped entirely out of\\nexistence. It is difficult, howevei to attempt to furnish names.\\nSome of the missing may be still alive, and the confusion and\\nterror are so great that people are as yet unable to account for\\ntheir relatives and frieuds in view of the frightful experiences\\nthey have passed through\\nThe story of each and every bayou in the Bayou Cook coun-\\ntry would be but a mournful re}jetition of the foregoing, changing\\nthe names of the sufferers. Everywhere were parents wailing for\\ntheir children, and little ones crying the names of parents vi hose\\nwhite faced corpses gazed with unseeing eyes to heaven from\\nthe matted marsh grass of the trembling prairie.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "35\\nIn the Louisiana marsh to the east of the Mississippi, the\\nsame destruction vviis wron ;ht. There are but few ba.yous in\\nthis section, their plao s beinf: taken by the chain of lakes which\\ncommences with Lake Pontchartrain in the rear of New Orleans^\\nand continue until they reach the gulf, the principal one of which\\nis Lake Borgne. From New Orleans south there runs into this\\ncountry, on the left descending bank of the river, the Shell\\nBeach railroad, which has its southern terminus at the little\\nsettlement from which it takes its name. Like its companion\\nroad on the west bank, the Shell Beach road suffered severely\\nfrom the storm. Its track was washed and torn, and where it re-\\nmained intact it was covered with debris and seaweed and the\\nbodies of animals. It, too, had its quota of boats and schooners\\nand luggers caught up out of the lakes and cast all along its\\nline.\\nShell Beach was more of a fishing camp than a settlement,\\nand fortunately but few lived there. Some of the anglers of New\\nOrleans had erected there a handsome club house at a cost of\\nsomething li!\\\\e $7000. This building was in charge of Mr. Heb-\\nler who resided in it^with his family. Here most of the people\\ngathered when the storm broke, as it was the most substantial\\nstructi:re in the place. Mr. Hebler gave the following account\\nof the storm there:\\nHe Slid he had been there since 1884 and had seen no storm\\nwhich was worth considering in comparison with the one of Sun-\\nday night.\\nAt 5 o clock Sunday evening the wind began to blow hard\\nand probably reached the vekcity of 40 miles an hour. The\\nwater rose about 12 inches and he took measures to secure the\\nboats. At 10 o clock the wind shifted to the northwest and the\\nwater came up to the floor. The sailboats went and the gallery\\nwas pulled down. At 2 a. m the wind shifted to the northwest\\nand there was 6 feet of water in the hall. The sewing machine,\\nlamp and everything washed away and the doors went down and\\nthe floors were washed out in all the rooms but the kitchen.\\nSoon only the uprights were left. The cistern was washed three\\nmiles from the house\\nTwo fishermen were in a willow tree from Sunday at 5\\no clock p. m. until between 2 and 3 Monday.\\nOne Manilla man floated two or three miles and two others\\nfloated away in a pirogue and have not been heard from since.\\nAll the huts went, and there was only water and sky and rain\\nduring the early hours of Monday morning. Shell Beach is a\\ndesolate phice.\\nCapt. Tony Jnan, one of the residents of Shell Beach, who\\nwas absent at the time of the storm, gave to a reporter of the\\nNew Orleans Picayune a graphic description of the scene which\\ngreeted him on his return home the next day:", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "36\\nWhen I reached Shell Beach, said Capt. Tony, a scene of\\ndesolation greeted my eye. The magnificent clubhouse that\\nformerly stood on the beach was a mass of broken and twisted\\ntimbers. Looking down the beach not one of the twenty camps\\nthat were formerly there could be seen. There was nothiDg to\\nshow that any buildings had ever stood there. My own camp,\\nwhich was built near the clubhouse, and which I left in good\\norder on Saturday, had disappeared.\\nImmediately upon my arrival I set about ascertaining\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0whether any of the fishermen had been drowned. After a dili-\\ngent search I managed to round up all those that were on the\\nbeach, and after noses had been counted it was discovered that\\nseventeen persons were missing. Among this number was Mar-\\ntin Bonificiao and his family. The other twelve were men, and\\nthe belief is that they had all been swept back into the swamp,\\nand it will require a thorough search to find their bodies. There\\nis not the slightest doubt but that they are all dead, for if any\\nof them had been alive they could have easily made their way\\nback to the beach, as immedately after the storm had subsided\\nthe ten feet of water that covered the land flowed rapidly back\\ninto the lake. The survivors are so wrought up over the terri-\\nble ordeal they passed through that they had not the heart to\\ninstitute a search for the missing.\\nI took down with me a lot of provisions, and I found that it\\nwas a Godsend to these people. They had not had one mouth-\\nful to eat since Sunday evening,and were in actual want, as there\\nwas not one bite to eat anywhere, the storm having swept away\\nall eatables with their houses They did not even have a fishing\\nline; which would have enabled them to catch enough fish to\\nappease their appetites These people are now quarted at the\\nhouse of C. H. Cyaley, which is six miles distant from the rail-\\nroad terminus. The majority of them are nearly naked, their\\nclothes having been blown away.\\nAt Terre Aux Boeuf, Pescadorosville, Keggio, in short at\\nevery settlement or fishing camp or station, this sad scene was\\nrepeated.\\nAt Pescadorosville, or the Island, as it is sometimes called,\\nbut two houses were left standin-g out of thirty.\\nAt every point the personal effects of the people were\\nwashed or blown away, their houses were blown down, their\\nfishing boats were staved and sunk, or carried so far inland by\\nthe immense volume of water which poured over the country,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2^t they could not be returned to the water, and he who es-\\nwith his life, even though with broken bones, esteemed\\n*-\\\\ip vorite of fortune. In this country, too, each tuft\\nTetation, half grass, half flag, might hide a man-\\nbody, and at the bottom of every stagnant\\nling waters in the scored marshes, perhaps", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "m", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "38\\nmight rest a ghastly corpse whose soul had winged its flight to\\nthe great beyond amid the howling tempest of that awful night.\\nFor days after the storm the relief parties continually^\\nfound the bodies of the dead, some of them the inhabitants of\\nthe region, others sailors whose vessels had been driven in from\\nMississippi Sound and the Gulf of Mexico and wrecked on the\\neastern shore of the Marsh. Some were recognized and their\\nlast resting places were reverently marked; but many, very\\nmany, went to swell the list of the unknown and unclaimed dead.\\nCHAPTER IV.\\nTWIXT BIVEK AND LAKE.\\nWhile death was being dealt on the coast, the storm was\\nnot idle in the city of New Orleans. New Orleans is situated\\non the level land between the Mississippi river and Lake Pont-\\nchartrain; and, as the lake is joined to the gulf by waterway s\\non the east, and the river in its sinuous winding as it nears the\\ncity approaches so close to the lake, it is almost an island.\\nThere are no bluffs or hills, not even the slightest elevation, to\\nbreak the force of the wind, and so the storm had full play\\namid the houses of the Crescent City. Bat fortunately it was\\nbut the edge of the tempest that touched the town, and the\\nblows that were struck there came from an arm already wearied\\nby dealing death in the coasts below.\\nAll day Sunday the rain had been coming down, with now\\nand then a temporary cessation for a few moments; but the\\nfalling rain did not seem to lighten the burden of the clouds\\nwhich hung low above the city as the day drew to a close, and\\nas the darkness of night began to steal through the gray of the\\nweeping day, the wind came moaning down across the waters of\\nPontchartrain, driving before it great windrows of inky clouds\\nacross a background of solid lead color, a phenomenon which\\nboded no good for aught in the track of the storm of which it\\nwas the forerunner and prophet. As darkness fell upon the\\ncity and its myriad lights blazed out, here an electric spark\\nthat shone like a diamond on the bosom of the night, and, radi-\\nating in the distance, the gas jets scintillated like strings of jew-\\nels, the storm broke over the town. The water poured in an\\nalmost continuous sheet. In an instant, almost, it seemed, the\\nstreets were flooded; ditches and drains ran bank full, i-oadways\\nwere under water and sidewalks disappeared beneath the flood\\nwhich stretched from house to house across the streets, broken\\nonly by the vehicles which cut through it hub deep, or the\\nstreet cars which carried ahead of them a wave as boats at sea.\\nAnd above all roared the wind. Blast after blast tore\\nthrough the streets, and the storm played the music of its weird", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "39\\nfantasie on the Jiloleari harp of wires that swayed and swung\\nand rani? under the touch of the master musician, while at hun-\\ndreds of points the blus-white sparks and jets threatened death\\nto man who had dared to chain and harness the mysterious power\\nof which they were the visible manifestation.\\nA setious accident occurred at the corner of Carroll-\\nton avenue and Second street. A telephone wire was blown\\ndown and lay across the trolley wire. The current from the\\ntrolley wire was transmitted to the telephone wire, and when a\\ndouble team owned by Betz, the livery stable man, came gallop-\\ning along, at 12.55 a. m., the horses ran against the fallen wire.\\nBoth horses were immediately killed and the driver had a nar-\\nrow escape, being rendered insensible by the shock, from which\\nit took him days to recover.\\nTrees were thrown down into the streets all over the city\\nand travel w^as at first delayed and then interrupted altogether.\\nThe street cars ran at irregular intervals farther and farther\\napart, and then stopped. The charges of the cabmen rose high-\\ner and higher, until at last no offer of money could tempt them\\nto brave the fury of the storm.\\nThe telegraph wires were thrown down and for a time it\\nseemed as if New Orleans would be cut off from the rest of the\\nworld; but, two lines held out and served to carry to and from\\nthe city the pulse-beats of the busy world.\\nThe beautiful grove of oaks at the United States barracks\\nwas almost destroyed, most of its largest trees being torn bodily\\nfrom the ground, and the immense pole from which floated the\\ngarrison flag was snapped short off.\\nThe church of the Messiah in the seventh district was de-\\nmolished. The car sheds of the N. O. C. L. road in\\nthe third district were blown down and the rolling stock exten-\\nsively damaged.\\nThe police telegraph was rendered useless and each pre-\\ncinct was a garrison cut off from all communication with\\nsupports.\\nAt an early hour the swaying wires were crossed and a high\\ntension current burnt out the switch board of the fire alarm ser-\\nvice, leaving the city at the mercy of the fire bug.\\nAt midnight one of the public markets for which New Or-\\nleans is famous, situated on Sorapuru and Tchoupitoulas streets\\nwent with a crash and was piled, a miss of tangled debris on its\\nformer site. An hour later the brick wall which had been its\\nlower end followed the rest of the building; adding to the ter-\\nror of the people in the vicinity. By this one incident the city\\nlost $22,000.\\nBy some inexplicable good fortune there was but one fatal-\\nity in the city. Ulrich Boyer, a Boylan police officer, was the\\nonly victim of the storm. Boyer s beat was on the levee, in the", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "40~~\\nvicinity of the Texas and Pacific Railroad depot. At the head\\nof Henderson street, on the levee, the firm of A. K. Mitler\\nCo., were having erected a small structure to be used as an office.\\nBetween the hours of 11 and 12 o clock Sunday night, when the\\nwind was blowing at a terrible rate, the frame of the building\\nwas blown down and completely demolished. Boyer had been\\nstanding near the place, so as to secure shelter from the rain,\\nwhich, at that time, was coming down in torrents. He was\\nknocked to the ground by the falling timber, and there he re-\\nmained for the remainder of the night beneath several heavy\\nplanks, suffering intensely.\\nAt 7:30 o clock Monday morning he was discovered and\\ntaken from his perilous position by Officer Roach. The officer\\nwas passing on the levee on his way to the Harbor Precinct\\nStation, when a man s groans were heard by him. He traced\\nthe cries to the fallen building, and after a few minutes search\\nhe noticed Boyer. The man was barely able to speak. The\\nonly thing he said was to tell the time the accident happened\\nand where he was injured. He complained of pains about the\\nbody and legs. Officer Roach telej)honed for the ambulance.\\nThe man appeared to be slowly passing away, and as that vehi-\\ncle was a little late in responding to the call, a wagon was se-\\ncured, and in it the wounded man was laid and taken post-\\nhaste to the hospital. There it was found that his left thigh\\nand arm were broken, and he was injured internally. His in-\\njuries were attended to, and he was placed in a ward. He died\\nat 12:30 o clock in the afternoon.\\nIn Algiers, or the fifth district, that portion of the city on\\nthe west bank of the Mississippi, the damages were slighter.\\nThe roof of the Woman s Benevolent Missionary Hall was\\nblown off; also blowing down a colored church in Jefferson par-\\nish, with the fence and trees. This church was situated near\\nFreetown.\\nThe belfry was blown off the negro Methodist Church, and\\nthe slates off the Good Hope Baptist Church on Jackson street.\\nThe wind blew the church eight inches back from where it\\nstood.\\nThe walls of the old Planter s Oil Mills were blown down\\nand damaged to a considerable extent.\\nThe Women s Benevolent Missionary Hall is a two-story\\nframe building, sitting back some distance in the yard. The\\nwind played havoc with it, blowing the roof in as if it had been\\nan eggshell. The house was a new building, and was still in\\nprocess of construction.\\nOn the river itself in front of the city the night was a wild\\none. The wind blew with terrific violence along the unprotected\\nlevee, and the men watching the interests of the shipping com-\\nmunity were kept constantly on the qui vive to guard against\\nloss of property.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "4i\\nAbout 9 o clock tlie first accident occurred, when the big\\ntransfer steamer, Gouldsboro, of the Texas and Pacific road,\\nstarted to cross the river in the teeth of the gale. The boat was\\nloaded with passengers and freight cars for the Texas and Pacific\\nroad on the other side. The boat runs into a slip on this side,\\nand no sooner had the vessel jutted her nose outside of the pro-\\ntection thus afforded than she was caught by the full force of\\nthe gale.\\nThe current and the wind combined blew the boat down the\\nriver, and in less time than it takes to relate she was hurled\\nagainst the fruit wharf of the Illinois Central road, at the foot of\\nThalia street. The mammoth engines of the big boat were in-\\ncapable of stemming the fury of the wind and tide, and her star-\\nboard wheelhouse was ground into bits against the wharf. Her\\nstarboard bow was also battered in. The crew of the vessel\\nmanaged to secure the boat before any further injury could be\\neffected, and the passengers were safely housed.\\nThe ferry boat, Edna, beat backward and forward in the\\nriver for two hours with the New Iberia excursionists on board,\\nfinally landing the passengers at a point above Louisiana avenue.\\nThe ferryboat, Jerome Handley, plying between Race street\\nand McDonoughville, broke loose from her moorings and was\\ncarried a short distance up the river, where she was blown\\nashore. The Handley while lying in this position parted her\\nchains and settled into the river, where she now lies sunken,\\nThe Handley was owned by Capt. Thos. Pickles, was valued at\\nabout $IO,OOU, and was not insured.\\nThe steam launch Harry Shannon, valued at $1000, was\\nlost while lying at the bank in Gretna. The boat lies sunk be-\\nneath the surface and cannot be raised\\nThe steamer Grace Pitt, owned by the New Orleans and\\nSouthern Railroad, lying just below the Good Intent Dry Dock,\\non the Algiers side, parted her lines during the gale and to-\\ngether with two barges, one lashed on each side of her, were\\nblown up the river, Both of the barges were torn to pieces and\\nthe Pitt was carried ashore just below Morgan s depot at Gretna.\\nThe Pitt was valued at $6000, and was insured for $4000.\\nThe big transfer W. S. Osborne, owned by the Illinois Cen-\\ntral road, which was lying in retirement just above Louisiana\\navenue, was torn from her moorings during the storm of Sun-\\nday night and carried to the opposite side of the river. The\\nOsborne sustained but slight damage to herself, but in tearing\\nal^ay from her fastenings did considerable damage to the\\nsteamer Ouachita, which was lying in retirement just above her.\\nThere was trouble at the coal fleet moored at Willow Grove.\\nThe barges were moored close together, and the continual jost-\\nling caused the seams to start in all except the newest of the\\nfleet. The laborers employed on the boats were kept busy", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "42\\npumping, but tlie water gained headway rapidly, and a barge\\nbelonging to T. J. Wood went down.\\nJoseph Walton s coal barge was the next to be lost; then\\nthe Muuhall Bros, lost two coal laden barges. The total loss\\nwill amount to $11,000 or $12,000.\\nOn the shores of Lake Ponchartrain in the limits of New\\nOrleans are several pleasure resorts to which her people repair\\nin the summer for rest and relaxation, and the cool breezes\\nwhich blow in from the water. The principal ones are Milne-\\nburg, Little Woods, Spanish Fort and West End; the last being\\nthe largest and the most generally patronized. Here the people\\nfind music and bathing, fishing and boating; while numerous\\nrestaurants provide for the inner man.\\nThe storm at these places was grand. At Little Woods the\\nwaves rolled clear across the little lakeside resort. The con-\\nstant wash of the waves loosened the soil around the roots of the\\ngiant water oaks, and one after another the}^ bent and fell from\\nthe force of the hurricane.\\nThe houses were principally light structures and many of\\nthem were torn to pieces.\\nWest End was a heavy sufferer. Trees were uprooted, plat-\\nforms destroyed, small boats sunk, bath houses damaged, por-\\ntions of the^wharf torn up and plants and shrubbery whipped\\nto ribbons.\\nThe Southern Yacht Club was a considerable lossr by the\\nstorm. About 300 feet of its walk from the end of the covered\\nwalk out to the club entrance was washed away. Otherwise, the\\nclub sutfered Uttle, if any. The rowing clubs on the east side\\nof the basin all suffered. The landings of the St. John and\\nWest End clubs were washed away and the lumber piled about\\npromiscuously or else lost altogether. The walk along the\\nbasin bank from one club to another is gone, and all that saved\\nthe West End club from sustaining the same losses as the others\\nis the fact of the contractors for the revetment work having\\nalready removed the landing to make a place for depositing\\ndredgings.\\nIt was about 2 o clock Sunday afternoon when the damage\\nbegan to be done The summer house nearest the east end of\\nthe levee blew away entirely and without warning. The summer\\nhouse at the big bronze statue acted very singularly. The floor\\nand posts were blown away so completely that no one has so far\\nfound even the splinters, and yet the roof fell where the floor\\nhad been, and seemed to be in almost as good condi-\\ntion as when new\\nThe many handsome yachts in the pen were jammed\\nagainst one another and were rubbed and bruised, and the yacht\\nNepenthe, belonging to Mr. Richardson, the commodore of the\\nsquadron, was torn from her moorings and blown a mile up the\\ncanal.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "43\\nSpanish Fort sufifered less than any of the other places, but\\noverthrown trees, wrecked stands, torn shrubbery and washed\\nwalks and roads showed that it had not escaped scatheless.\\nAt Milueburg the dwellings were damaged to a considerable\\nextent, one of them being completely demolished, as well as a\\nbathhouse.\\nA number of skififs were wrenched from their moorings, and\\nwere either foundered or dashed into bits against the numerous\\nsunken pilings with which the Lake at that point abounds.\\nIt would be tiresome and uninleiesting to detail the num-\\nber of craft thus destroyed.\\nThe scene during the storm is thus described by an eje-\\nwitness: In the distance the lake, churned into a thick foam\\nby the f ary of the wind, rose and fell in mighty waves, whose\\ncrests were cut off as with keen knives before they had at-\\ntained their fullest height. The waves dashed against the revet-\\nment and railroad trestle with tremendous violence, and the\\nspray tlew full fifteen feet high in many parts of the long walk.\\nThe billows rolled toward the shore, sweeping almost every-\\nthing with them, and hurling drift and wreckage inland. The\\nshore was lined with the rough fringe of pieces of battered\\nboats, houses and pilings, which ever and anon would be lifted\\na triHe further inland by a wave more powerful than its prede-\\ncessors\\nOne of the most thrilling experiences of the storm, bat one\\nfortunately unattended by any casualty, was that of the New\\nCamelia, the little steamer which plies on Lake Pontchartrain\\nbetween Milneburg and Mandeville. The last named jDlace is a\\nlittle town in the pine woods on the north side of the lake where\\nmany citizens of New Orleans have their snmmer homes, the\\nNew Camelia being the means of communication. This little\\nvessel is bailt like an ocean steamer, not like the ordinary steam-\\nboat of the southern waters; and to this, together with the\\ncoolness of her captain, William Hanover, is due the fact that\\nanother horror was not added to the already too long list of that\\nfatal Sunday. Her story can be told no better than in the words\\nof her captain He said\\nWhen we left New Orleans Sunday morning we had about\\nfifty passengers. The trip was made to the north shore without\\nthe occurrence of anything of interest. The passengers had a\\ndelightful time at the resorts, and we started on the homeward\\nvoyage shortly after 4 o clock in the afternoon. At Mandeville\\nit was blowing stiff then, but not much to speak of. No rain was\\nfalling. We had been out but a short time when the wind\\nstarted to blow in earnest. The passengers began to feel the\\neffects of the blow, and the ladies retired to the cabin, where\\neverything was made as comfortable as possible for them Rain\\nfell iu torrents after we had been out an hour, and the wind bad", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "44\\nincreased to a gale from the eastward. The New Camelia be-\\nhaved wonderfully well in the gale, and though the vessel rolled\\nlike a drunken man and pitched like a bucking broncho, no dam-\\nage was done either to the vesssl or her machinery.\\nAbout G o clock we were in a position to land at Milneburg.\\nThe wind was blowing great guns and the water was running\\nvery high. The rain was so terrific that we could not see the\\nwharf, and though I was anxious to land my passengers, I did\\nnot want to risk an accident that might prove fatal to all on\\nboard. The gale from the eastward made it impossible for a land-\\ning to be made without carrying away the wharf or tearing the\\nboat to pieces, and finding things in that condition I determined\\nto steam out into the lake. I told those of the passengers who\\nasked me that I would again try by the light of the moon. We\\ndropped anchor near the Spanish Fort and rode the gale until\\nafter 10 o clock, when the moon began to shine. But its light\\nwas too feeble for me to try the landing in the teeth of the gale,\\nand I gave over the attempt.\\nThe gale was a fierce one by this time, and the steamer\\nbegan dragging her anchor. I ordered that steam be kept up\\nall night, and kept the engines going, so as to take the strain\\nfrom the cable. We dragged a considerable distance all the\\nsame, and toward morning steamed out about four miles from\\nthe Milneburg wharf to the westward. We rode the gale all\\nnight in safety and tried to land about 11 o clock Monday fore-\\nnoon, but owing to the presence of the wreckage to the east,\\ncould not make the wharf on that side. The wind was then\\nfrom the northwest and too strong for us to land to windward.\\nThe passengers had been uneasy all night, and I thought\\nbest to take them back to Mandeville. This I did,, and we ar-\\nrived there Monday afternoon.\\nThe next day the steamer safely made her wharf at Milne-\\nburg, landing her passengers and easing many a heart on shore\\nthat had ached with fear for loved ones tossed on the choppy\\nseas of the shallow lake.\\nCHAPTEK V.\\nALONO THE GULF.\\nAlong the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico from New\\nOrleans to Mobile runs the line of the Louisville and Nashville\\nrailroad, skirting the very edge of the waters, where the salt\\nspray from the crest of the incoming rollers is dashed over the\\nrails by every gale, running over the marsh on a bed built at an\\nenormous cost and maintained by untiring labor, crossing the\\nnumerous outlets from the lakes to the gulf by bridges of steel\\nand iron. Scattered along the line from one end to the other", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "45", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "46\\nare little towns and hamlets, Lookout, Waveland, Bay St. Louis,\\nPass Christian, Bi!oxi, Scruuton, Mif-sissippi City, Ocean Springs\\nand many otbers, foiming almobt a continuous sliGtcb f bousfs\\nfronting tbe lieacb, all popular summer resorts witb tbe people\\nof tbe Soutb and known colb ctively in tbe parlance of New Or-\\nleans as over tbe lake. Here in tbe bot summer months go\\nthe people of New Orleans to breathe tbe air redolent of the\\nbalsam of tbe pine, to lave in Ibe waves that lipple on tbe shore\\nand to rtvel in tbe cool salt breeze which s^^eeps in from tbe\\nopen gulf. This coast is protected in a measure by a chain of\\nlow-lying islands-, mere bunks of sand raised b^^ the action of\\nthe waves; La Breton, Grand Grozier, tbe Cbandeleurs, Cat Isl-\\nand, Ship Island, Horn Island aicl iiiany others. All along this\\nline, both on tbe islnnds and tbe maii.land, tbe storm vras felt iu\\nall its fury, and lives w^re lost by tbe score and thousands upon\\nthousands of dollars worth of property was destroyed.\\nProbably the worst damage and loss of property was at Cban-\\ndeleur island. Here was located the United States marine hos-\\npital quarantine buildings, in charge of Dr. G. M. Guitieras,\\nwith Dr. Cbas. Pelaez, as assistant. At this point tbe fullest\\nstrength of tbe stoim was developed, resulting not only in the\\nalmost complete destruction of all buildings on tbeislund, but in\\na fearful loss of life. The velocity of tbe wind reached 100 miles\\nan hour. Tbe building and ier known as the disinfecting\\nplant, supplied with all tbe modern appliances for the thorough\\ndisinfection of vessels from infected ports, was a complete loss,\\neverything being washed away.\\nWhile tbe other buildirgs on the island were more or less\\ndamaged and uninhabitable, the largest house, coijnected with\\ntbe main station was carrie d awoy, and the following persons\\ndrowned: Steward L. A. Duckert, of New Orleans; Nurs^ Mc-\\nKenzie, of Mobile; Seaman Muller, of Amsterdam, and two pa-\\ntients, one named Lazen, of tbe steamship Eav^ersdnle and Geo.\\nB Salmis, boatman of the American bark Rebecca Goddard.\\nThe buildings on tbe island were located so far apart that\\nthere was no communication, and it was impopsiLle for the occu-\\npants to render asssistance to one another. The lighthouse was\\nalso wrecked to such an extent that the lighthouse keeper aban-\\ndoned it. Miles of tbe island were completely washed away,\\nand what little remains is liable to be completely submerged\\nwith little more than an ordinary high tide.\\nThe damage by wind to the quarantine service alone at\\nChandeleur island will amount to nearly ?100,000.\\nThe disinfecting plant, which had been erected during tbe\\npast year, together with tbe wharf and disinfecting apparatus,\\ncost $17,000. The other buildings and improvements between\\n$50,0(jO and $60,000, to which may be added about $o0,C00 for\\nthe steam transfer boat W m. H. Welsh, Captain Jas. Delmas,", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "47-\\nwbich went aground at the norlli point of the island in 3 feet of\\nwater at high tide, with a draft of 7 feet. About forty htad of\\ncattle were also lost on the island.\\nTuesda} a Manilla sailor made hie way to the Chandeleur\\nStation from the fishing sloop Laura B., of New Orleans, which\\nwas wrecked in Grand pass. Out of a crew of seven men he\\nwas the only survivor, and when found on the island was in an\\nunconscious and perfecth nude condition having been in the\\nM ater over ten hours- The oyster lugger Rosalie, of Biloxi, is\\nalso known to have gone to the bottom with a crew of four men.\\nThe American bark Rebecca Goddard, from St. Johns, lying\\nat Quarantine, dragged her anchors about five miles from the\\nstation, and only saved the vessel from going ashore by cutting\\naway the masts and all the rigging, sustaining a loss of about\\n$.5U60 or $6000. The Henry T. Gregg had a similar txperitnce\\nand was completely dismasted, the loss footing up fully $6000.\\nThe Austrian bark Nikita, which was in quarantine at Chan-\\ndeleur, was lost with all on board. She had a crew of about\\ntwelve men. The Norwegian bark Rogna was also dismasted.\\nTuesday night the Heury T. Gregg took two Italian fisher-\\nmen from a raft as they were drifting out to sea. Another raft\\nalso pai^sed the vessel with three men on board, but the Gregg s\\nsmall boats were so badl}- wrecked that they could lend no assis-\\ntacce to the unfortunates, and nothing has been heard ficm\\nthem since.\\nJohn Graham, who had charge of Dantzler s lumber barge\\nRemus, saiei that the barge went to pieces and he was picked\\nup b} the master of the Simon. Before going to pieces the\\nthe schooner New Union passed within 300 feet ot him with\\nfive men clinging to the bottom. It was blowing too hard to\\nsave them. A uL-an named Hough, who was with Graham, was\\ndrowned. Andrew Olesen, who was on the bark Annie B.,\\nsaid that she struck early in the morning on Cat Island\\nHimself and four otheis went over on the lumber and\\ndrifted to the island. Before he got there one of the men\\nwas washed overboard. The captain and the rest of the crew\\nare missing. A sailor told him he saw the captain go over-\\nboard. When they reached the island the sand blown by the\\nwind drove them back to the water where they both clung to\\nthe trees. They were taken off next day.\\nCaptain Roberts of the tugboat Julius Albert reported the\\nday after the storm over a hundred dead bodies floating in the\\ngulf between the islands and the coast. Among the lost was\\nLouis A. Duckert, hospital steward, at Chandeleur. He was\\nswept off into the gulf by the tidal wave amid the howling of\\nthe tempest. More than a week afterwards his body was found\\non a small island more than ten miles away. For days and davs\\nsearching parties found bodies in the long grass of the marshes.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "48\\nand they were buried where they were found, swelhng the list of\\nthe unknown dead. Miles off shore the odor of the decaying\\nbodies told all too plainly that all of tbe dead had not been\\nfound\\nAt every little town along the coast there was tremendous\\ndamage to property and at many there was loss of life.\\nJack Sbepard, the assistant bridge tender on the Biloxi\\nRailroad bridge, was washed overboard and drowned. His body\\nwas recovered the nest day and buried at Ocean Springs.\\nThe financial loss along the entire coast will foot up not less\\nthan $1,000,000.\\nLOUIS A. DUCICERT,\\nThe canning interests suffered severely from the storm.\\nTheir losses in the aggregate amount to over $25,000. The\\nBarataria Canning Company lost their wharves, engine-room,\\nlarge lot of canned goods damaged, machinery, cans and other\\nmaterial. They estimate their loss at from $8000 to $10,000.\\nLopez, Dunbar s Sons Co., oyster packers, lost about $10,000\\nou their factorv plant and water craft. Wm. Gorenfle Co.,\\noyster packers, on the Back bay, estimate their loss at about\\n$3000 and the E. C. Joulian Packing Company lost about $4000.\\nThe Biloxi Canning Company also located in the Back bay, lost\\nfrom $3500 to $4000 in storm-swept buildings, damaged machin-\\nery and canned goods.\\nAt Scranton, Miss the waters of the river and sound rose\\nrapidly, submerging the track of the Louisville and Nashville.\\nRailroad, carrying the schooners Franklin and Amelia upon the", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "49\\nembankment of the railroac!, where they were left by the water.\\nThe brig Mary C Minor was carried into Lowery Island, about\\nhalf a mile north of the railroad, and the brig Emma and\\nschooner Taylor were stranded at Freutz shipyard. The charcoal\\nschooner Webb capsized 200 yards south of the railroad.\\nThe Lutheran and Methodist churches and four negro\\nchurches at Scranton were wrecked besides Odd Fellows Hall\\nwas so badly injured that it is ncf longer safe. The large machine\\nshop of T. C. Gatti was blown down. Mead Bros. mill was un-\\nroofed and incalculable dnmage done toothers.\\nIn East Pascagoula the damage was much greater, as the\\nwhole road front was destroyed, the Catholic church being\\nremoved from its pillars and the Union Church completely des-\\ntroyed.\\nAt Lookout, the great fishing resort of New Orleans, the\\nstorm was awfnl. Boat houses were destroyed, boats were\\nwrecked and the whole country inundated. Fortunately the\\nmain buildings, though rough, were strong, and the large num-\\nber of amateur fishermen there escaped with a bad fright.\\nThe following graphic description of the storm at Waveland,\\nMiss. ,one of the prettiest watering places on the line of the L.\\nN road, is from the pen of Mr Henry P. Dart, a leading\\nNew Orleans lawyer:\\nA moderate wind blew all Sunday forenoon, which rough-\\nened the sea somewhat, but the sky was clear and there was no-\\nthing to indicate unusual weather. About 1 o clock, the wind\\nchanged to southeast, and with .H came rain, increasing as the\\nafternoon waned until at 6 o clock it was quite dark and a stiff\\ngale blowing.\\nThe direction of the storm sent everybody indoors, and\\nclosed all openings toward the front. We are accustomed to\\nrough weather at this season, and if any attention was diverted\\nto it, it was not serious. Toward midnight, however, sleep was\\nout of the question. The trees creaked and cracked. There was\\na deep booming along the shore, and over all the wind rushed\\nand whistled and the rain pelted in torrents. Chimneys and\\nopenings of every kind leaked, and the town awaked and pre-\\npared for something to happen.\\nAbout 4 o clock the first touch of light crept up, and then\\nwe saw that the sea had left its normal bed and was dashing over\\nbluffs and pouring across roads, while beyond and ahead of all\\nflew the scud as high as our trees Just as day broke the sight\\nwas most impressive; the great waves swept unimpeded over the\\nshore and broke in the road, with a mighty roar that could be\\nheard above every other sound; the horizon seemed only across\\nthe way, a mighty upheaval of water clouded by mist and full\\nof spoil.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "50\\nBetween 2:30 and 5 o clock the wharves and bathhouses suc-\\ncumbed, and soon there was not a stick of timber between sea\\nand shore. The gale was then at its height and half an hour\\nmore it would have destroyed many a home. Just as it seemed\\nthat the sea would sweep houses and people away the wind\\nchanged round and blew equally against it. I saw the great roll-\\ning crests scatter their furious spray, then flatten out and sud-\\ndenly recede; moment by moment the victory was made surer,\\nand in two hours the watery giant was conquered, and we had\\nnothing more to fear, as he lipped the shore far below his previ-\\nous usurpation.\\nAt Bay St. Louis, Miss., the storm began on Sunday morn-\\ning about 8 o clock with a heavy rain. The rain continued all\\nday, and the wind increased in fury every hour. It rained and\\nblew big guns all night, but the full force of the storm was not\\nfelt until about 5:30 on Monday morning. Then it blew a reg-\\nular cyclone, and every bathhouse on the beach from one end to\\nthe other was swept away and hurled out into the raging waters.\\nTrees along the beach were uprooted, while the roofs of nearly\\nall of the outhouses were blown away. A negro church was un-\\nroofed and the roof thrown alongside of the building. Every yacht,\\nschooner and small craft that was moored to the various land-\\nings were torn from their posts, and were either dashed to pieces\\nagainst the ruins of the wharves or were blown high and dry\\nashore. Eight or nine large schooners were washed ashore, and\\neither ruined or badly damaged; $250,000 would not cover the\\ndamage done the beach and Bay. So far as has been ascertained,\\nbut one life was lost, although many had narrow escapes from\\ndeath.\\nCharlie Chariot, one of the crew of the schooner Centennial,\\nwhich was wrecked in front of Mr. F. Butler s home, in Wave-\\nland, was washed away and drowned while clinging to the keel\\nof the capsized vessel The Centennial was under command of\\nCapt. W. H. McDonald, brother of Hon. John McDonald, mayor\\nof Pass Christian, and was anchored off the Pass. About mid-\\nnight the anchor chain broke, and in making an effort to draw it\\naboard and get under way he was knocked overboard by the\\nboom. From midnight until day he fought a terrible battle for\\nhis life. Many times he was on the point of giving up, and\\nwould have been drowned had he not secured a piece of timber\\non which to rest his body. About day he was washed on the\\ndrift of the broken railroad bridge and managed to crawl from\\nthat upon the bridge, that was still standing, but over which the\\nwaves were furiously dashing.\\nManuel Marti and Johnnie Dougherty, draw bridge tenders,\\nwere not rescued until late Monday afternoon. When they saw\\nthe bridge was doomed, they opened wide the draw and thus\\nsaved themselves, while the bridge was washed away for many\\nhundred feet on each side.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "51\\nAt Pass Christian the havoc was terrible. Every vessel in\\nthe vicinity except a snaall cat boat was wrecked; every wharf\\nand bathhouse was washed away; houses were torn to pieces,\\nand the waves rolled through it threatening to wipe it out of\\nexistence The damage here was over $100,000.\\nAt Mississippi City, De Buys and Beauvoir (the home of\\nJefferson Davis), in fact all along the coast, the same story of\\ndeath and damage was repeated. Houses destroyed, roads\\nruined, fences and outbuildings prostrated, the beach torn and\\nseamed and scarred by the mighty pounding of the waves which\\nrolled furiously in, bearing on their crests the timbers of\\nwrecked vessels and the bodies of their drowned crews. Column\\nafter column of the newspapers was filled with lists of the ves-\\nsels lost, and the dead were so numerous that only the number,\\nnot the names, were given in the reports. At the Rigolets, (the\\npass from Lake Pontchartrain to Lake Borgne) sixteen lives\\nwere lost, three captains of vessels with thirteen of their\\ncrews. The schooner Angeline with her captain and crew dis-\\nappeared not a timber of the boat nor a single body of all who\\nmanned her were ever found.\\nThe City of Mobile, the point where the Louisville and\\nNashville road leaves the gulf and strikes north, was a heavy\\nsufferer. The damage here was in the neighborhood of a quar-\\nter of a million dollars.\\nMobile is situated at the head of Mobile bay, where the\\nriver of the same name enters it. Like New Orleans it has its\\nsuburbs and water side resorts, where many thousands of dollars\\nwere invested. But not only these places were stricken by the\\nstorm. The water invaded the business houses on the principal\\nstreets, and thousands of dollars worth of goods were damaged.\\nA number of vessels were driven ashore; one steamer, after her\\npassengers and crew escaped, was lifted on the crest of a wave\\nand carried in and deposited across the shell road, Mobile s\\nchief drive Every wharf and bath house on the western shore,\\nfrom the city to the mouth of Dog river was swept away. On\\nthis same shore a singular effect of the storm was seen. In the\\nmemory of the oldest inhabitant there was not a time when it\\nwas not covered with logs and debris of all sorts, thrown there\\nby the waters on their way to the gulf. The storm swept it\\nbare and for the first time in the history of Mobile the western\\nshore showed a clean beach of pure white sand. The handsome\\ncourthouse was damaged to the extent of three or four thousand\\ndollars. The mills in the vicinity suffered severely, both in\\ndamage to buildings and machinery and in loss of stock. One\\nmerchant alone lost $4000 worth of salt. By a singular freak\\nthe wind took a piece of marsh about 40 feet square and 2 feet\\nthick and turned it completely upside down, leaving a pond for\\nducks and a hill at the other side. Mr. Frank Ruter found a", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "52\\ngrand piano floating in the bay and brought it ashore; no owner\\ncould be found for it.\\nAll the suburbs of Mobile, and the little hamlets near it\\nsuffered severely. The residence of Henry Seaman was car-\\nried away by the flood, himself and family on top of it. As\\nthey drove before the storm a huge alligator climbed aboard,\\nand refused to vacate, though repeatedly clubbed over the\\nhead by Seaman. The family were rescued from their perilous\\nposition.\\nIn the marshes around Mobile were numerous market\\ngardens, most of them cultivated by Germans, who, with their\\nfamilies, lived in their little plots. Tbey were devastated.\\nNot only the crops, but the gardens themselves were utterly\\ndestroyed and the land reduced to the original marsh from\\nwhich it was redeemed by the labor of these men. Nor was this\\nthe worst. For days after the storm abated the bodies of\\nthese poor people were found, where they had been carried by\\nthe waves or blown by the wind, in the stagnant pools which\\nstudded the marshes.\\nThe heaviest sufferer from the storm was the Louisville\\nNashville railroad. There was hardly a foot of its road from\\nNew Orleans to Mobile that was not damaged; and when it is\\nstated that a large part of it is composed of long and costly\\ndrawbridges spanning passes which are really arms of the\\ngulf, and that these were wrecked, it can be seen that damage\\nmeant destruction.\\nOf the Bay St. Louis bridge there only remained a half\\nmile on the Bay side and the iron draw near the Pass, or east\\nend; of the balance there was not a trace, not a stringer or rail\\nleft on the posts.\\nThe Ocean Springs bridge at Scranton was badly damaged;\\nthree miles of track between Scranton and West Pascagoula\\nentirely gone and roadbed more or less damaged. The track\\nmaterial was found in the marsh, scattered far and wide from\\nits original position. One span of the long iron bridge at\\nWest Pascagoula was down in the river a total wreck, and the\\nremainder of the bridge was damaged. The bridge across Bi-\\nloxi bay, except the draw and about seventy spans, was washed\\naway. The assistant drawkeeper was drowned. The tender\\nsaved his life by climbing upon the draw, whence he was res-\\ncued by lifeboats upon the subsidence of the waters. The\\nbridge at Bay St. Louis was all lost with the exception of the\\ndraw and 170 bents.\\nThere was over 7500 feet of the Biloxi bridge destroyed,\\nwhile over a mile of the Bay St. Louis bridge was washed into\\nthe gulf. Every stick of the Back Bay trestle and every grain\\nof the fill at the same point completely disappeared.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "-53\\nBetween Gulf View and Claiborne, about a mile of the\\ntrack was washed away, and there were also washouts at Rigo-\\nlets and Lake Catherine, and between Rigolets and Lookout.\\nFor a distance of two miles and a half between Micheaud\\nand the Chef the track was in a bad condition. The heavy\\nwind storm had driven the water from the gulf until it over-\\nflowed the tracks, and when it receded it had carried the earth\\nfilling between the ties with it. At Chef Menteur a worse\\nstate of things greeted the officials. The Lake Catherine fill\\nTHK BIL.OXI BRIDGK.\\nwas found to have been washed away for a distance of about\\n350 feet. This fill is at the place where the line crosses Lake\\nCatherine, just beyond the Chef station. Instead of bridging\\nthe water it was filled in and boxed on either side. This fill-\\ning had been washed away, thereby causing the tracks to sink\\ninto the lake.\\nJust beyond the Rigolets bridge the greatest washout\\never happening to a railroad in the South occurred. As far as\\nthe eye could reach, the straight road bed could be seen and\\nnot a vestige of a crosstie or rail was anywhere. The hard\\nroad bed was smooth on the surface and a horse could", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "54\\nhave been trotted along where the trains had been running on\\nthe iron bands without encountering a single obstacle, except\\nthe occasional gap where the sand in the road was soft and the\\nwater made a small opening. Along the side of the track for\\nmany miles a bayou about 12 feet wide runs within 10 feet of\\nthe track. All the rails and crossties had been washed into\\nthis canal and were buried out of sight. Every few hundred\\nfeet the trackj had been broken and the ends of the rails\\nwere twisted out of all shape and bent and almost tied in\\nknots. This washout extended without a break to Lookout, a\\ndistance of three miles.\\nBut it would take too much space to describe all the dam-\\nage in detail. Enough has been said to give an idea of what\\nit was. The scene just described was repeated over and over\\nagain, mile after mile, almost to Mobile.\\nThe telegraph lines were down everywhere, poles snapped\\noff or washed out of the ground, wires broken and twisted into\\na tangled web, and all communication cut off; and a train\\nloaded with passengers was caught between two of the\\nwrecked bridges, unable to get back or go forward, and lay\\nexposed to that dreadful storm all night.\\nBy a stroke of good fortune Mr. Charles Marshall, super-\\nintendent of the wrecked division, hapj)ened to be in Mobile,\\nthe east end of the division, while his chief clerk, Mr. A. J.\\nJacobs, was in New Orleans. Both immediately began work\\nfrom their respective ends of the wrecked division and by\\nlaboring night and day reopened traffic in two weeks; the\\nlowest estimate made of the time necessary to do so being one\\nmonth. How it was done is best told in the words of Mr.\\nMarshall in an interview in the New Orleans Picayune the\\nday the road re-opened for travel.\\nI was in Mobile, he said, having gone over there to see\\nif I could arrange for the capture of the men who wrecked our\\ntrain at Gulfport, and also to look after the strike which had\\nnot as yet adjusted itself, when the first news of the great\\nstorm reached me. Late Sunday night I received the inform-\\nation from Scranton and Biloxi, that there was a great gale\\nblowing there, and danger imminent to our road, as well as to\\nthe property and lives of the people. I was at the telegraph\\noffice anxious to get all the news about it, for I was apprehen-\\nsive that if the storm was very severe that our road would\\nsuffer, as it has done in the past. But I was not permitted to\\nget another telegram, for the wires were all down. Then I\\nknew that the mischief was to pay, and made all arrangements\\nto get out early Monday morning, to investigate the matter.\\nMonday morning arrived, and with it as fierce a gale as I ever\\nsaw. The storm in this city was at night, between 10 and 3\\no clock, so I learn, but in Mobile the greater wind blew be-", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "55\\ntween 3 o clock and daylight. I had my train all ready to go to\\nScranton, at daylight, but the wind was so wild and seemed to\\nbe hungering so to blow something away, that for a while I\\nhesitated in starting out. As its fury, however, did not seem\\nto abate, I deemed it best to go ahead. I had no trouble in\\ngetting within a few miles of Scranton, and there I learned of\\nthe vast damage done to our road all along the line. I went\\nright to work, as a matter of course, and there was work to bo\\ndone, as I found out later.\\nAs soon as I could, all arrangements were made for men\\nand materia Telegraphic communication was had with our\\nofficials at the other end of the line, and, the situation realized,\\nmaterial began to arrive. Much of it was in readiness to be\\nused, and much of it was not. I had no trouble in getting\\nmen, but the proper kind of material was at first hard to se-\\ncure. At last, however after a few days, I had barges of it on\\nthe bay, and a tug on hand to haul it about. The first thing\\nwas to get matters systematized. I made Scranton a sort of\\nbase of operations, and from thei e progressed along the line\\nas fast as the repairs would permit. Having gotten all the\\nneeded material on hand, the work of repairs was conducted\\nsmoothly enough.\\nAt Biloxi there was a crew of nearly 300 men, under the\\nsupervision of the company s chief engineer, Mr. R. Montfort.\\nAt Bay St. Louis, our superintendent of bridges, Mr. H. Bolla,\\nhad charge of the work, and at Ocean Springs, Mr. Fay. At\\neach of the other points, there was an engineer of the road\\nstationed, and a gang of men placed at his disposal In each\\nof these gangs there was the greatest system that could be es-\\ntablished. There were men to do every part of the work, and\\nthese men did nothing else, except that which was assigned to\\nthem. Sub-bosses were in charge of smaller gangs, all under\\nthe direction of a head engineer.\\nThere was a pile driver at every bridge, and a crew of men\\nto work it. The pile-driving gang drove piles where needed,\\nand straightened up those which had been washed aside by the\\nstorm. Most of the work consisted of the latter, the water,\\nthough fierce enough, not being able to entirely drive the deep\\ndriven piles from their position. Following on the heels of the\\npile drivers came the stringermen, whose duty it was to place\\nthe long stringers in position on the tops of the piles, upon whick\\nthe ties were to be laid. This done, along came the capping\\nmeu, those who fastened the stringers in position and made theia\\nready for the receipt of the ties. The next gang placed the ties\\nin position, another following fastened them as they should be,\\nwhile still another gang hauled the rails from the rafts and\\nbarges underneath, and laid them in position The next gang\\nnailed the rails in place and the following gang a ^usted them t\u00c2\u00a9", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "the proper width. This placed the track in shape, and then along\\ncame the inspectors, who looked over the work and saw that it\\nwas all right.\\nThus was the work of rejjair carried on, a gang thus sys-\\ntematized being at each bridge of au} importance, though most\\nof them were concentrated at Biloxi, Bay St. Louis and Ocean\\nSprings. At all the other less serious breaks smaller gangs,\\nworking under the same system, carried the repairs as rapidly\\nas possible. You can readily see that witli a force of 600 men,\\nall thus systematized, when they all got down to business we\\nmade things move.\\nWell, we had to, continued Mr Marshall, for time was\\nworth to us the sum of $5 per minute that is the company was\\nbeing put to that much expense in the employment of laborers\\nand in the loss from delaying of traing and the detention of bu-\\nsiness, or approximately that amount. As soon as one piece of\\nwork was finished another was begun. Having finished the\\nwork at Ocean Springs, which was nothing serious, without\\nhardly even stopping for a meal the entire gang moved on as\\nfast as possible to Bay St. Louis, where the same system was\\nadopted and the work finished. We had some trouble on ac-\\ncount of the barges containing some of the material being blown\\naway, but they were soon recovered and gotten within easy\\naccess, having a tug at hand for all such emergencies. The work\\nlooked at first as almost a futile task for I never saw such wreck,\\nruin and devastation. Everything was torn all to pieces, the\\nsolidly built trestling and tracts in many places being blown\\nfrom their positions intact and swept to the four winds of the\\nearth. Some of our road, for all I know, is in the Gulf of Mex-\\nico 100 miles from land, much of it, perhaps, further away. I\\nlearn, however, that there is a string of the Bay St. Louis bridge\\n300 or 400 feet long off the coast some fifteen or twenty miles,\\non the Chandeleur island. Mr. Montfort is over there now, with\\na force of men, to see if he can t capture it and bring it back. All\\nalong the coast, on all the small islands, I understand there are\\nstrings of our track lying high and dry on the sands.\\nSpeaking of the manner in which the night work was carried\\non, Mr. Marshall said.\\nWe had large iron baskets extemporized and hung from\\nwires stretched along the line of operation. In these baskets\\nwas constantly kept burning a large bright fire of pine knots, for\\nof this material there is an abundance there. The locomotives\\nalso, on both ends of the line, furnish us considerable light. It\\nwas rather a picturesque scene to see 400 or 500 men at work in\\nthe glimmering rays of a pine knot fire. The negroes, however,\\nseemed to like the night work, and for several nights we accom-\\nplished as much good as during the day.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "57\\nCHAPTER VI.\\nTHE DEAD AND THE LIVING.\\nThe whole gulf coast, from Barataria bay to Mobile, both\\nbanks of the Mississippi river, from Polute-a-la-Hache to the\\nJetties, and the desolate marshes between were strewed with\\nthe bodies of the dead. Men, women and little children,\\ndrowned in the mad rush of the angry water, or mangled be-\\nyond recognition by the huge logs and house timbers which\\nwere borne upon the flood, or dashed to death against trees\\nand piles and houses by the tidal wave, lay cold in death on\\nthe devastated fields, in the rank rushes of the marsh, in the\\ndepths of the moss-hung swamps and on the white sands ot\\nthe seashore. Some lay dead by their own hearthstone, their\\nlife crushed out by their own roof tree; some were carried\\nmiles and miles from their homes; and some were swept out\\nto sea never to be found. Nor was it the dead alone who were\\nthus carried away. When the sun rose on Monday morning it\\nlooked down on many a mangled and bruised form, m which\\nthere was yet just enough of life remaining to be conscious ot\\nits own suffering, and to realize the helplessness of its own\\ncondition and the narrow hope of rescue. Many of these were\\nfoundin time to save their lives; but the burial parties found\\nmany another whose position told all too plainly that death\\nhad come only after many, many hours of suffermg, in that\\nawful solitude, with no witnesses save the foul carrion birds\\nwhich circled aloft, waiting their hour, which they knew would\\ncome.\\nMany of these incidents will be told in their appropriate\\nplace in this work; now we are dealing with the number of\\nthe dead.\\nHow many of these there were will never be known ex-\\nactly for all were never found. Some were swept to sea, some\\nwerecarried into the trackless marsh or tangled swamp where\\nthe foot of man has never trod, and some found sepulture in\\nthe trembling prairie in graves dug by their own weight.\\nThe following list gives the number of the dead found and\\nburied at the places named; those marked as lost from vessels\\nwere seen by witnesses to go down to their death:\\nTHE i e:-a.x\\nCheniere Caminada 8^2\\nBayou Cook h\\nBayou Shute J^\\nBayou Lafond 1^0\\nBird Island ^U\\nBayou Andre (All Chinamen) o^", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "58-\\nTH\u00c2\u00a3 D\u00c2\u00a3}AD\u00e2\u0080\u0094 continued.\\nGrand Bayou 16\\nBayou Challon 40\\nGrand Lake 20\\nCabanage 20\\nNear Shell Beach 17\\nSimon Island 15\\nPearl River 10\\nGrand Isle 27\\nSt. Malo (All Malays) 12\\nBayou Dufon 11\\nBarthelemy 7\\nGrand Bank 4\\nGrand Prairie 4\\nRazor Island 5\\nEmpire Mill 3\\nOyster Bayou 3\\nFort St. Philip 6\\nPoint Pleasant 5\\nHospital Bay 4\\nFaesterling s- 3\\nGrand Bay 3\\nOld Quarantine 2\\nBayou Chato 3\\nNairn 1\\nPort Eads 1\\nHappy Jack 2\\nNicholls Postoffice 4\\nBack Bay 1\\nStockf elths 1\\nSixty Mile Point 3\\nDevil sFlat 1\\nBolivar Point 2\\nSocola s 7\\nRiceland 2\\nChandeleur Island 100\\nBiloxi 1\\nBay St. Louis 2\\nMobile 12\\nLost on Schooner Alice McGuigan 7\\nLost on Schooner Angeline 6\\nLost on Schooner New Union 6\\nLost on Bark Rosella Smith 3\\nLost on Lugger Young American 15\\nLost on Bark Annie E. B 6\\nLost on Sloop Laura B 6\\nLost on Lugger Three Brothers 3\\nLost on Sloop Alice 2\\nLost on Barge Hero 1", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "59\\nTHE DKAD\u00e2\u0080\u0094 continned.\\nLost ou Barge Boss 1\\nLost on Schooner Bertha 3\\nLost on Lugger Sunny 3\\nLost ou Schooner Premier 5\\nLost on Schooner Centennial 2\\nLost on Schooner Pecourt 5\\nLost on Unknown Schooner 3\\nTotal 16u7\\nTo show that the foregoing figures are not guess work,\\nthe following list of families at Cheniere Camiuada is given,\\nshowing the number of saved and lost in each family, so far\\nas the names could be ascertained:\\nSaved. Dead\\nVictor Busere 1 7\\nJack Sponge 8\\nJoseph Sponge 1 5\\nOuace Dantin 1 6\\nGeorge Dantin 6\\nJohn Michel 1 4\\nPierre Nicol 9\\nTalesfort Bonnamour. 3\\nAntone Allanda 1 5\\nPierre Amont 1 2\\nOrelien Crosby 8\\nMr. Carmody 1\\nTracy 1\\nJoseph 1\\nCarpenter 1\\nOscar Terrebonne 4 I\\nDr. Frederick Collin 2\\nLicar Jambon 2 2\\nAndre Pizani 5\\nSaved. Dead\\nRodolph Cheramie 10\\nLouis Malcon 1 4\\nPierre Colin 7\\nSihs Viger 7 1\\nLouis Chabert 10\\nVeronnique Pitre 1 2\\nProspere Terrebonne 4 5\\nDupres Terrebonne 2\\nLouis Terrebonne 2 2\\nDavid Pitre 7 4\\nMme. Richard Pitre 4\\nDidier Pitre 2\\nAugustin Gaspard G\\nErnest Gaspard 3 5\\nOleus Cheramie 8\\nFelicien Lefurt 7\\nHarisonne Gaspard 7\\nElfege Lefort 5\\nAlexis Lefort 9\\nMillen Lefort 2\\nEsebe Crosbe 2\\nAdrien Lefort 4\\nBorgard Viger 8\\nArmand Crosbe 5 1\\nJulien Crosbe 3\\nNicolas Turol 3\\nTele Terrebonne 14\\nJohn Rebstock 11\\nCamil Rebstock 3\\nArthur Terrebonne 2\\nPierre Turol 4\\nEtienne Curol 2\\nLeopold Pizani 7\\nMaick Allen 5\\nMichel Terrebonne 7 1\\nMichel Jambon 7\\nTheodule Terrebonne 1 4\\nLeon Cherriot 1 5\\nPicha Sponge 5\\nLucien Terrebonne 8\\nManuel Incaiade 2\\nPhilip Billili 1 G\\nMarius Perrin 1 4\\nChapha Danlin 2\\nOdras Sponge_ 3", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "-66\\nSaved. Dead\\n3\\n7\\n1\\n1\\nSaved. Dead\\nAndres Curol 9\\nMelfort Gaspard 6\\nMelfort Arnodin 8\\nLivode Pitre 6\\nAuguste Macolm 6\\nMme. Malcona 2\\nMme. Justin Pitre 6\\nDavid Pitre 2\\nLeodgard Pitre 1\\nBebe Labave, 4\\nAugustine Pitre 2 5\\nMarc Pissiola 3\\nDupres Terrebonne 8\\nAisere Pitre 5 10\\nJerazime Dantiu 3\\nThomas Alario 3 7\\nJohn Kilgin 1 6\\nJohn Sanamon 2 5\\nMme. Jacko Terrebonne 4\\nSteph Pitre 2\\nRaimond Terrebonne I\\nAlexanere Anselm 5\\nRobert Martin 6\\nGuillaume Martin 5\\nJos Martin 11\\nJerazime Dantin 9\\nOctave Dantin 5\\nFrancois Sandras 3\\nSingesse Terrebonne 8\\nJohn Stout 2\\nPaul Malgom 1 5\\nCharles Gilbot 4\\nFelicien Sandras 1 2\\nAlexis Sandras 4\\nBesinthe Sinblanc 7\\nPierre Grimaud 2\\nMme. Victor Sandras. 5 4\\nThomas Martin 6\\nJohn Miller 3\\nFrank Gilbert. 5 4\\nJohn Hadje 1\\nJeck Fallen 1\\nMme. Exavier Sandras. 1\\nClaude Gilbos 1 6\\nJos. Lafont 1 3\\nAndre Gilbot 2\\nMme. Joseph Cotton. 4\\nJos. Gamesse 3 4\\nLucien Theniat\\nLeo Amandin\\nBelente Terrebonne\\nRudolph Terrebonne.\\nDidemi Darbin\\nOrelier Oroby\\nMme. John Polket\\nOpil Bouziga\\nClement Bouziga\\nRomain Delgrandij\\nMme. Dom. Bouziga.\\nMiguel Lanane\\nAlexis Terrebonne\\nLeopold Guedry\\nThomas Valena\\nCharles Lafont\\nCharles Lafont, Jr\\nPete Lafont\\nTheogeni Lafont\\nTheophile Guedry\\nBlanchard Guedry\\nLee Demer\\nManuel Terrebonne\\nJoe Boudro\\nDr. Frey\\nAlexis Crosby\\nPit Labove\\nOvide Petit\\nMichel Never.\\nClebert Boudro\\nMme. Faustin Boudro\\nDupret Lizard\\nErnest Angelleto\\nOzeme Cherami\\nJulien Boudro\\nFaustin Boudro\\nClemene Claws\\nEnoch Claws\\nVictor Arnodin\\nJos Ortis\\nAlexis Serriot\\nArmand Palket\\nAntoine Volence\\nZephirin Duet\\nJos. Terrebonne\\nAdam Sauveur\\nAndre Collin\\nMme. Duces", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "61\\nSaved. Dead.\\nGaspard Sicard 1 3\\nConstatin Itros 1 6\\nErnest Lafonc 5\\nEouard Terrebonne. 3 1\\nEtienne Terrebonne 8\\nHenry Gardey 8\\nDupre Terrebonne 10\\nLouis Gurdey 6\\nLorence Terrebonne 7\\nBonnard Jambon 9\\nRaphael Pitre 4\\nJos. Pitre 9\\nAdam Duet 7 1\\nAdrien Pitre 6\\nAuguste Pitre 5\\nDede Lafont 3 4\\nBrou Brankly 3 9\\nFrancois Bartelleme. 2 7\\nAuguste Bonamour 1 11\\nBatiste Abillet 4 5\\nWilliam Reed 1 8\\nW. Corron 4\\nPierre Dantin 1 1\\nDorcily Dantin 7\\nEtienne Perrin 3 3\\nEmile Angellet 2 5\\nEtienne Perrin 1 3\\nAleide Pisanie 3\\nHyppolyte EUein 2 4\\nSaved. Dead.\\nLouis Broussard 1 5\\nWilfred Pitre 2 3\\nDonnatien Coron 8\\nJoin Valence 1 6\\nLouis Lafont 1 9\\nFelix Pisanie 8\\nAndre Pisanie 4\\nLesta Cheramie 6\\nCirlaque Prospery 3 2\\nLeonce Prospery 1 3\\nAntoine Valence 10\\nMme. Jos. Incalade. 2\\nTheodore Crosbe 2\\nAlbertine Pisanie 2 7\\nTheodore Pisanie 1 5\\nMartin Bonne 6\\nJoseph Lefort 3\\nJacques Collin 5\\nAlfrtd Collin 5\\nMme. Peltier 2\\nFilazaque Collin 5\\nErnest Lefort 8\\nAdrien Sarol 3\\nNoel Lefort 8\\nAlice Lefort 6\\nJulien Lefort 7\\nLeonce Pitre 4\\nFelicien Collin 6\\nRESCUE AND KELIEF.\\nFrom the character, direction and intensity of the storm\\nin New Orleans the residents of that city apprehended that gieat\\ndamage had been done in South Louisiana, but no one dreamed\\nof its extent. And while it was believed that much ])roperty\\nhad been destroyed and that perhaps a life or two had bten\\nlost by the wrecking of vessels, there was not an idea of\\nthe utter destruction and terrible loss of life which had\\noccurred, consequently there was no concerted actiou look-\\ning to relief until Wednesday afternoon. That afternoon the\\nlugger Good Mother, of Cheniere Caminada, the only vessel of\\nthat place which was not wrecked, reached New Orleans with\\nthe news of the dreadful calamity. Captain Terrebonne, her\\ncommander (a hero who had saved some three score lives during\\nthe storm), appealed to the people to go to the rescue of the\\nsurvivors. The response was instantaneous. The lugger", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "62\\nlanded in front of the French Market, and before her\\ncaptain had concluded his story the merchants and resi-\\ndents of that vicinity began to gather food and clothing.\\nThey loaded the Good Mother with their contributions and she\\nstarted on her return trip. This boat succored one hundred\\nand forty families. Of course the news reached the newspaper\\noffices immediately, and was promptly bulletined. But bulletin-\\nROBKKT BLEAKliEV, Chairman Relief Committee.\\ning the news or sending boats after further information did not\\nsatisfy the New Orleans papers. The New Orleans Times-\\nDemocrat chartered a boat, loaded ber with supplies and sent\\nher down Bayou Barataria. The New Orleans Picayune imme-\\ndiately chartered the steamer Emma McSweeney, loaded her with\\na cargo of food, clothing, medicines and water, and sent aboard\\nher a complete crew with a staff of helpers, doctors and report-\\ners, with orders to first relieve the distress and then to get and\\nbring in the news. Loaded to the guards the McSweeney\\nswung out into the stream and departed on her errand of mercy.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "63\\nThat night several members of the Commercial Club (one of\\nthe leading social clubs in New Orleans) held a conference and\\nthe result was the following call, which appeared next morning\\nin all the papers\\nThe citizens of New Orleans are invited to meet in the\\nrooms of the Commercial Club, 152 and 154 Canal street, at 12\\nTHE GOOD MOTHER.\\nm. to-day to take immediate action toward aiding in the rescue\\nof those who maj be still alive but helpless at Chtniere and\\nGrand Isle.\\nRobert Bleakley, President.\\nIn response to this call a meeting was held at the appointed\\ntime and an executive relief committee with full powers was ap-\\npointed, with Mr. Bleakley as chairman. This committee went\\nimmediately to work. Funds were collected, supplies purchased,", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "64\\nmedicines obtained and volunteers for relief parties enlisted.\\nOne party was sent by rail down the bank of the Mississippi\\nto relieve the distress there; the steamboat Gamma was char-\\ntered and sent with clothing, food, medicine, water, surgeons\\nand searching parties down to the Barataria section, and the\\nsteamer Alice, similarly equipped, was dispatched through lake\\nPontchartrain to the Louisiana Marsh and the gulf coast and its\\nislands.\\nThe Times-Democrat sent out the steamer Amelia Harvey\\non a similar errand down Bayou Barataria,\\nTHE PICAYUNE S. RELIKF BOAT.\\nThe French Market Protective Association organized a com-\\nmittee with Mr. John Alsina as chairman, and it dispatched sim-\\nilar aid by luggers. Boatload after boatload of necessaries was\\nsent to the stricken section, and well it was that it was done, for\\neverything was gone; in many instances the storm had torn\\neven the clothes from the backs of the survivors, leaving them\\nas naked as when they came into the world.\\nThe various commercial organizations of New Orleans ap-\\npointed committees to raise funds, in which they were emi-\\nnently successful, and the contributions poured in. The Citi-\\nzens Relief Committee issued the following call, which was\\niberally responded to", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": ".-.65\\nTHE CITIZEKS RELiIEF COMMITTEE S BOAT.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "66\\nTo the People of New Orleans The committee for the\\nrelief of the storm sufferers request donations from the people\\nof articles of wearing apj^arel for both adults and children,\\nshoes, hats, blankets, etc., all of which are urgently needed.\\nSend to 126 Camp street, opposite Lafayette square, or notify\\ncommittee at that number, and articles will be sent for.\\nEOBEET BlEAKLEY,\\nChairman Executive Committee.\\nJno. C. Wickliffe, Secretary.\\nThe New Orleans Board of Trade sent out the following\\nappeal\\nNew Oeleans, October 5, 1893.\\nThe awful calamity which has overtaken the residents of\\nthe islands and coast near our city should appeal to the charity\\nof all our citizens.\\nFood, medicine, and the means of assisting ihose unfor-\\ntunates are [necessary immediately, and the Board of Trade\\nurges liberal contributions of cash and supplies, which will be\\ndistributed by the executive copamittee of the Board of Trade,\\nof which Mr. Hugh McCloskey is chairman.\\nEach member of the following committees is authorized\\nto solicit and collect subscriptions as stated above\\nProvisions Hugh McCloskey, Max Schwabacher, Simon\\nPfeifer.\\nGrain and Naval Stores F. J. Odendahl, Jno. E. Simpson,\\nJno. T. Gibbons.\\nEi\u00c2\u00abe Jos. Buhler, F. G. Ernst, Jno, A. Hubbard.\\nGrocers W. L. Saxon, I. H. Stauffer, Jr., Nicholas Burke.\\nCoffee Chas. Dittman, E. P. Cottraux, A. L. Arnold.\\nEsculents Henry Kahn, Leon Bloch, Martial Casse.\\nBrokers W H. Beanham, Wm. A. Gordon, D. R. Graham.\\nJohn M. Pakker, President\\nHy. H. Smith, Secretary.\\nAnd on the next day sent the following telegram:\\nTo the Commercial Exchanges at Chicago, St. Louis, Cincinnati,\\nKansas City, New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore,\\nPittsburg, Minneapolis, St. Paul, Omaha and other\\njDlaces\\nA terrible disaster has destroyed a majority of the inhabi-\\ntants of the islands and marshes adjacent to this city, and the\\nsurvivors are left penniless, their stock, houses, boats and\\nmeans of livelihood gone, and they are in dire distress.\\nThe people of Louisiana will bury the dead and feed the\\nstarving, but appeal to a generous public to assist in con-\\ntributions which will enable thousands of deserving people\\nto again follow their avocations and support their families.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "67\\nSubscriptions of every character will bfe thankfully re-\\nceived and be disbursed by the executive committee of the\\nBoard of Trade, acting jointly with committees of the other\\ncommercial bodies.\\nJohn M. Paeker. Jr.,\\nPresident Board of Trade.\\nThe Ked Cross Society of Louisiana, fully alive to the\\nemergency, issued the following call\\nBed Cross Society of Louisiana,\\nNew Orleans, Oct. 4, 1893. j\\nTo the Public:\\nThe Bed Cross Society of Louisiana, of which Miss Clara\\nBarton is the national executive, does hereby issue a call upon\\nthe public generally for subscriptions and contributions in aid\\nof the sufferers from the recent storms in Southeast Louisiana,\\nwho are at present without food or shelter. The society re-\\nquests that all subscriptions and contributions be made to\\nJohn M. Coos, treasurer, at No. 2 Tchoupitoulas street.\\nJ. B. Vinet, President,\\nE. K. Skinner, Secretary.\\nThe various secret societies sent in their contributions; the\\nSouthern Pacific Eailroad sent a check for a thousand dollars;\\nthe Grand Opera House, the Academy of Music and the St.\\nCharles Theatre each tendered a benefit, the gross proceeds of\\nwhich went to the fund; the pupils of the public schools gave\\ntheir pocket money to the fund, thirty, forty and fifty dollars\\nbeing sent in by each school; the city council of New Orleans\\nvoted $2500 to the fund and the individual members added a\\nhandsome donation from their own pockets. Eeplies to the\\nappeal made by the Board of Trade began then to come in. It is\\nimpossible to particularize, for the contributions came from all\\nover the country from individuals and organizations, especially\\nthe commercial ones, and were promptly applied. The churches\\nof all sects and denominations set apart a special Sunday for\\ncollections and realized a large sum which was turned over to\\nthe committee.\\nThe Stevedores and Longshoremen s Benevolent Association,\\nan organization of laboring men, contributed one thousand\\ndollars of their hard-earned wages.\\nSoon the various organizations recognized that relief could\\nbe more effectually given under one directing head and all of\\nthem were merged into the Citizens Central Storm Belief Com-\\nmittee, of which Mr. Bleakley was chaii-man, which committee is\\nstill in existence and at work when this book goes to press.\\nThis committee worked in conjunction with the police juries of\\nthe parishes of Jefferson, Plaquemines and St. Bernard in which", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "68\\nTHK RED CROSS HEADQUARTERS.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "69\\nthe devastation occurred. Not only were the immediate neces-\\nsities of the people supplied but they were assisted to rebuild\\ntheir homes and to raise, relaunch or repair their wrecked boats\\nand were placed in a position to again become self-supporting.\\nBut there were some instances of individual action which\\nshould be recorded.\\nMrs. Ludwig, whose general store has long been known to\\nnearly all the fishermen along the Gulf coast, dealt out goods to\\nall who called for them, wholly regardless of their ability or ina-\\nbility to pay for them, until her store was completely emptied,\\nthe only person she refused being a man who desired to buy out\\nher entire stock of certain necessities with a view of making a\\ncorner on them.\\nMr. George Jurgens, a New Orleans merchant, who owned\\nan orange farm on the lower Mississippi, went down on Monday\\nmorning to see to what extent he had been damaged. When he\\nreached there the suffering and dead made him forget his own\\naffairs. A few of his houses had withstood tbe storm. He\\nfilled them with sufferers, he divided among them every ounce\\nof food on his place. He then hurried to New Orleans and sent\\ndown at his own cost, food, clothing, bedding and medicine.\\nThen covered with mud, he appeared before the first meeting of\\ncitizens, told of the destitution, and then went immediately back\\nat the head of a relief party.\\nThe store of Mark Cuessiola at Grand Isle was wrecked but\\nthe spirit of the owner was not destroyed. He had suffered, but\\nothers, he knew, who could less afford to suffer, had suffered\\neven more. Bright and early the next morning he made an in-\\nventory of his goods and found about $700 worth that were fit\\nfor use. He summoned his neighbors and gave them all that he\\ndid not himself actually need for a day or two.\\nFred. Stockfleth, a store keeper of the lower Mississippi\\nthrew open his house and his store to the sufferers and gave\\naway almost his entire stock. One of the sufferers among the\\nscores relieved by Mr. Stockfleth voiced the sentiments of all\\nwhen he said:\\nI was stark naked, bleeding, and so hungry I could scarce-\\nly stand. He took me in and fed me and clothed me. What he\\ndid for me is but a repetition of what he did for every sufferer.\\nMen like him are rare He did more than any other three men\\nin this section for the sufferers, and the saved remnant of the\\nstricken people of Austria will ever be mindful of what he has\\ndone for us. God bless him.\\nThe generous response to her appeal in her hour of need\\nwill ever be remembered in Louisiana. It knew neither section-\\nal lines nor contiguity of situation, but came from the entire\\ncountry. Americans were in distress and Americans came to\\ntheir assistance.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "70--\\nCHAPTER VII.\\nLAST ISLAND.\\nLouisiana has had two horrors preceding this terrible calam-\\nity which resembled it but did not near approach it in loss of\\nlife.\\nOn the night of October 4, 1886, a cyclone accompanied by\\na tidal wave swept down upon the settlements on Johnson s\\nBayou and Sabine Pass in Southwestei n Louisiana, utterly ruin-\\ning the country and killing about fifty people.\\nA thrill of horror went through the State, and relief was\\npromptly given.\\nHer other disaster, known as the destruction of Last Island,\\nmore nearly approached the present one. Like it, it occurred\\non Sunday night, the date being August 10, 1856. Last Island\\nlay west of Cheniere Caminada and Grand Isle, and, like the\\nlast, was a popular summer resort. When its storm occurred it\\nwas crowded with the representatives of the wealth and fashion\\nof the Crescent City, and the loss of life was frightful. It was\\nswept out of existence, the water rolling over it ten feet deep,\\nand all that is now left of it is a narrow spit of sand. We repro-\\nduce the account of the disaster as it appeared in tbe New Or-\\nleans Picayune of August 16, 1856. This was the first account\\npublished of it, for news traveled slowly in those days.\\nStatement of rescuing party returned from Grand Isle\\nThey inform us that the storm commenced about 10 o clock\\non Sunday morning, and a faithful picture of the calamity they\\ndeclare to be beyond realization. The gale did not abate until\\nMonday morning, and then the rain continued almost without\\nintermission up to the time of their leaving the island, at times\\nthe wind rising pretty strongly again The number of the vic-\\ntims they estimated at over 200, at least 182 having been already\\ncounted. The island was swept by 2 o clock on Sunday, having\\nbeen overflowed between noon and that hour. The wind blew\\nfirst from the north and the northern part of the island was then\\noverflowed. Next the wind came from the east, which beat the\\nwater off from the north side of the island; afterwards the wind\\nshifted to the south, and then the island became overwhelmed by\\nthe water of the gulf. Horses, cattle and even fish lay strewn\\ndead about the island among the victims of the storm. It id be-\\nlieved that many bodies have been washed out into the gulf.\\nThe following is a letter written by a survivor of the dis-\\naster:\\nBayou Boeuf, Aug. 14, 1856.\\nDear Pic You may have heard ere this reaches you of the\\ndreadful catastrophe which happened on Last Island on Sunday,\\nthe 10th inst. As one of the sufferers, it becomes my duty to\\nchronicle one of the most melancholy events which have ever", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "71\\noccurred. On Saturday night, the 9th inst., a heavy northeast\\nwind prevailed, which excited the fears of a storm in the minds\\nof the many; the wind increased gradually until 10 o clock on\\nSunday morning, when there existed no longer any doubt that\\nwe were threatened with imminent danger.\\nFrom that time the wind blew a perfect hurricane; every\\nbuilding upon the island giving away, one after another, until\\nnothing remained. At this moment every one sought the most\\nelevated point on the island, exerting themselves at the same\\ntime to avoid the fragments of buildings which were scattered in\\nevery direction by the wind.\\nMany persons were wounded, some mortally. The\\nwater about this time (about 2 o clock p. m.) commenced rising\\nrapidly from the bay side and there could no longer be any doubt\\nthat the island would be submerged. The scene at this mo-\\nment forbids descrij)tion, men women and children were seen\\nrunning in every direction, in search of some means of salva-\\ntion. The violence of the wind, together with the rain, which\\nfell like hail, and the sand which blinded their eyes, prevented\\nmany from reaching the objects they aimed at. At about 4\\no clock the bay and gulf currents met, and the sea washed\\nover the whole island. Those who were so fortunate as to find\\nsome object to cling to were seen floating in all directions.\\nMany of them, however, were separated from the straw to\\nwhich they clung for life, and launched into etei nity; others\\nwere washed away by the rapid current and drowned before\\nthey could reach their point of destination.\\nMany were drowned from being stunned by scattered\\nfragments of the buildings, which had been blown asunder by\\nthe storm. Many others were crushed by floating timbers and\\nlogs, which were removed from the beach, and met them on\\ntheir journey. To attempt a description of this sad event\\nwould be useless. No words could depict the awful scene\\nwhich occurred on the night between the 11th and 12th insts.\\nIt was not until the next morning, the 12th, that we could as-\\ncertain the extent of the disaster.\\nUpon my return after having drifted for about twenty\\nhours, I found the steamer Star, which had arrived the day be-\\nfore, and was lying at anchor, a perfect wreck, nothing but her\\nhull and boilers, and a portion of her machinery remaining.\\nUpon this wreck the lives of a large number were saved. Tow-\\nards her each one directed his path as he was recovering from\\nthe deep, and was welcomed with tears by his fellow-sufferers,\\nwho had been so fortunate as to escape.\\nThe scene was heart-rending; the good fortune of many\\na poor individual in being saved was blighted by the news of\\nthe loss of a father, brother, sister, wife or some near relative.\\nI will not prolong the detail of this unparalled catastro-\\nphe, but will give you the li^t, as correctly as I could obtain it,\\nof those who were lost.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "-72\\nCHAPTER yilT.\\nPATHETIC INCIDENTS.\\nThe story of the storm would be incomplete without a\\nrecord of some of the many acts of heroism which shine out\\nfrom that background of horror, and a recital of some of the\\npathetic incidents which brought to the eyes of stalwart men\\ntears of which they were not ashamed. All of them will never\\nbe known, for many a hero died with those he tried to save,\\nand many an incident whose pathos would have moved a stoic\\nleft no witness alive to make it known. Nor is there space in\\na work of this description to record all that are known. But a\\nfew, culled here and there at random from different sections of\\nthe stricken country, are here related.\\nTrainmen and passengers on the New Orleans and Gulf rail-\\nroad the day after the storm, saw a picture of a mother s cour-\\nage and endurance they will never forget. The train was mov-\\ning slowly through a stretch of country below the Crescent City\\nwhere the wind had played sad havoc, and had made of that\\nsection of Louisiana, already a dreary, repulsive place, a scene\\nthat would be a fitting addition to Dante s Inferno. The stag-\\nnant waters of the marsh between the railroad and swamp be-\\nyond had risen almost to the tops of the low latauia bushes and\\nweeds, and on its foul surface the bodies of animals drowned by\\nthe tempest, were floating. Against the dark back ground of the\\nforest with its uprooted and twisted trees, from which the gray\\nmoss fluttered ia tresses yards long, the figure of a woman was\\noutlined. A woman, a mother, with a child in each arm and a\\nbundle in a sheet which she held in her teeth, in such a spot,\\nsent a thrill of horror over all who saw her. In the swamp from\\nwhich she came, few hunters would have dared to penetrate,\\nfor it was a veritable jungle in which many dangers lurked,\\nand the green scummed water in which she was wading almost\\nto her waist, shoving aside as she went, the matted weeds and\\nbushes in whose shelter reptiles hid, seemed too foul and horri-\\nble for human being to enter and not be overcome by its noisome\\ncaress. But mother love had been stronger than that heroine s\\nfear of the animals that shrank and snarled in the dense swamps,\\nor the reptiles that she knew were all about her in the stagnant\\nwater through which she waded, and straight toward the\\nrailroad she made her way, and reached it with no injury save\\nthat of exhaustion. The train had been stopped, and willing\\nhands pulled the brave mother aboard. She placed the children\\nshe held in either arm on the car floor, then tenderly laid the\\nbundle in the sheet she had carried by its corners in her teeth,\\non a seat, and as a faint wail came from it, she carefully drew\\nfrom its snowy wrapping a tiny babe that cooed and laughed\\nwhen clasped to the mother s bosom, as if it were safe in the home", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "-73-\\nnest that had been washed away by the flood. This heroine had\\ntravelled two miles through swamp and marsh land with her\\nthree children, and after passing through dangers that make\\nbrave men shrink to think of, guarded by the A mighty, she\\nsaved herself and her babes.\\nBy the flickering light of an oil lamp in Stockfleth s store\\nand in the still watches of the Sabbath morn, one week after\\nthe storm, Maximillian Duplease told the story of the wreck of\\nhis camp on Cheniere Kouquille. He said:\\nMy camp is twenty miles from here. On Sunday night the\\nweather was bad, and I knew trouble was going to occur. At 8\\no clock it was bad, and between that hour and 10 I went through\\nyears of agony. All night long I fought for my life and for the\\nlives of those dear to me. At 10 o clock the camp went to smash\\nand we all fell into the roaring waters. When I came to a bit\\nI found that my wife had the two children, one gripped in her\\nteeth by the clothes and the other thrown across her shoulder,\\nThe water was breast-high and the footing, you may imagine,\\nvery bad. My kitchen table came floating by and I seized it,\\nand on it I placed my wife, my eldest child being in her arms,\\nwhile I took the infant on my left arm. With my right arm I\\nencircled a post, and the table was kept in position by my wife,\\nwho also gripped another upright timber. From 10 o clock till\\ndaylight we stayed there, fighting for our lives, every now and\\nthen being overwhelmed with water, till we thought the end was\\nnear.\\nOn Monday morning the water subsided Then I went to\\nhunt for a boat. There was not one to be found and until\\nThursday we were prisoners on the Cheniere, with nothing to\\neat or drink, save brackish salty water. On Thursday I found a\\nskiff, and, after kissing my wife good-by, I started for Grand\\nIsle, distant fifteen miles. I have a sister there and knew I could\\nget help from her At Fort Livingston I met Louis Valdon and\\nTheo. Blackberry in a skiff, and they, knowing me well, went\\nto Cheniere Ronqnille and carried my family to my relalives\\nThen I came on here to look after my other relatives. There\\nwere six of them; now there is one, and here the poor fellow\\nbroke down and wept freely.\\nMichael Trantovich, a Slavonian, had a frightful experience.\\nHis family consisted of his wife, Amelia; four sons, Michel, aged\\n21; Ura, 16; George, 8, and Nick, 5. His sailor, Andrew Kuzzi,\\naged 26 years, was also in camp with the family. About 11\\no clock Sunday night the house was demolished. Above the din\\nhe could hear the heart-rending cries of his wife. He caught\\na post and seeing his son George swept along within reach, he\\ngrasped him.\\nHe then saw his son IJra, clasping the little fellow Nick,\\nsupported by another post. A heavy swell washed ^eorge from", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "74\\nt^ Z", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "-^75-\\nliis embrace, while the continuous overwasli of waves drowned\\nthe little fellow Nick in the arms of his 16-year old brother. Des-\\nperate over the loss of his cherished ones, the father called out\\nto his sole surviviDj/ son: Farewell, Ura, I go to join your mother\\nand brothers. He loosened his grip on the log and sank beneath\\nthe waves. The current carried him immediately alongside of\\nthe post on which the boy Ura was hanging. Filial devotion\\nlent strength to the boyish arm as he reached, out, and catching\\nhis father by the hair, he elevated his head above the surface of\\nthe water The boy s pleading and piteous cries moved the\\nfather, and with the reaction came a return of parental love for\\nthe living. He reached out and caught the post, and there the\\ntwo remained until the next afternoon, about 2 o clock, before\\nthe water became low enough to permit them to wade. They\\ngradually made their way to the coast, where they obtained\\nassistance, eventually reaching the Grand Isle road, over which\\nthey were brought to New Orleans.\\nEachel Prince and one daughter were the only members of\\na colored family of fifteen who were saved, and their home and\\nall it contained was washed away by the flood. Weak from hun-\\nger, the old negro woman and her only remaining child stood on\\nthe bank and watched the work of the good JSamaritans who\\nwere dealing out provisions to the white survivors of the storm,\\nwithout making any attempt to get food and drink from the\\nsupplies on the relief boat. Noticing the miserable looking col-\\nored people, one of the oflScers on the boat called: What do you\\nwant. Auntie?\\nIse hongry, boss, and dis yere chile, de only one de good\\nLawd spar d me, is mos dade for somethin to eat, sah, but we se\\nonly poor niggers, an dere ain t nothin dere for us, I reckon.\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0She was told that the provisions were sent to the storm suffer-\\ners regardless of race or color, and she should have her share.\\nThen a ham, some j)ork, tea, coffee, sugar, bread, potatoes and cab-\\nbage were given her, and the poor old negro sank down oh her\\nknees and while the tears poured over her withered cheeks, she\\nthanked God, and the people who gave charity, for the relief\\ngiven her.\\nEmile Delgrante was a young fisherman of Cheniere, of\\nhandsome face and form, and a great favorite on the island. For\\nmonths the young man had looked forward to October 1st, with\\nthe most joyful anticipation, for on that day he planned to bring\\nto the home he^was making, a bride. A pretty girl who lived\\non Chandeleur island, a fisherman s daughter, was Emile s\\nsweetheart, and with more than usual ardor the young couple\\nloved each other. Delgrante built him a home, and then spent\\nhis leisure hours until his wedding day making it attractive. He\\nmade a garden and planted there the flowers his sweetheart\\nloved best, and in the little cot that was to be their home, he", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "76\\nplanned all sorts of devices for the comfort and pleasure of his\\nwife, and when the day dawned that was to make the couple\\none, the place made for the bride at Cheniere was unusually\\nattractive and seemed to the young firsherman, as he took a last\\nlook at it before going for the wife to grace it, a veritable para-\\ndise.\\nDelgrante was married and set sail for Cheniere, and on\\nthat fatal Sunday afternoon reached their new home. Many\\nfriends of the couple were there to make them welcome, and sev-\\neral hours were spent in festivity; then the couple were left\\nalone, for the storm commenced, and every one sought the shel-\\nter of his own roof tree.\\nThe happy life planned by those two young lovers was des-\\ntined to be brief indeed. The tempest howled about their little\\nhome and soon it went to pieces, and Delgrante and his wife\\nwere thrown out into the water that had risen about their house,\\nand together they perished. The next day their bodies were\\nfound on the beach. They were locked in each other s arms\\nunited in death as they were in life. One grave was made\\nfor both,and they were laid to rest on the spot where their lit-\\ntle cot once stood, and a few feet away, when the tide is in, the\\nsea waves lap the shore and sound the dirge of the dead lovers,\\nwhose wedding march was a funeral hymn and whose bridal\\ncouch was the grave.\\nThe mother of Capt. John Taylor, an old lady nearly ninety\\nyears old, who lived at Buras, had a narrow escape from death\\nin the tempest; and the storm of October 1st, was the third that\\nthis old lady had weathered, when many of her neighbors and\\nkindred found watery graves. She was the only one saved\\nof the seven children of her mother from the hurricane of 1811;\\nand in 1831 she was blown in a tree by the furious gale that\\ndevasted a great portion of Louisiana. And to-day she survives\\nto tell of the horrors of the hurricane of her infancy, the cyclone\\nof her womanhood and the blast of death of her old age.\\nAn engineer, named Field, on the Fort Jackson and Grand\\nIsle Railroad, who took a train out soon after the storm, related\\nbis experience. He said all along the track dead animals were\\npiled so high they had to be removed before the engine could\\ngo along its accustomed route, and near Bonner while directing\\nthe removal of numerous dead animals, a sad spectacle was un-\\ncovered. It was the body of a babe lashed to a dead calf, its\\nlittle arms still clinging to the animal that went under the waters\\nand carried it to death instead of to high ground and safety, as\\nsome mother no doubt fondly hoped, when she found all other\\nchance gone, and ba de her darling farewell and trusted to the\\nanimal s instinct to carry it beyond the flood.\\nOne of the women who escaped the fury of the elements at\\nCheniere had a terrible experience. She clung to a piece of tim-", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "-77\\nber when the tidal wave swept over the ill-fated island, and was\\ndashed inland at a fearful speed; and then when the wind lulled\\njust before it veered and swept back, washing houses, and dead\\nand living out to sea, she tore up her skirt and catchicg the\\nlimb of a tree, securely lashed her body to it. Other boughs\\nbeat her body when the gale recommenced, and great waves\\nbroke over her and threatened to drown her where she hung\\nsuspended. She saw great trees and timber dashicg along,\\nsometimes seemiug to be swooping down upon her, then just\\nwhen she felt her last moment had come, a merciful Providence\\nseemed to intervene, the course of the huge missile would be\\nturned, and hope would once more be renew-ed in her bosom.\\nThus she endured the agony of direst terror for five hours,\\nthen the water receded, and she was left hanging between\\nHeaven and earth in such a way she could not release herself,\\nand hung thus for a half a day before a party of rescuers found\\nher.\\nEarly on the morn after the tempest a young girl started\\nout from Grand Isle in a pirogue, and cruised about searching\\namong the stacks of dead, rowing close to every dark object she\\nsaw floating on the water, and scrutinizing closely everything\\nresembling a body and asking of everyone she met, Have you\\nseen Freddie?\\nFreddie Eichein was her lover, and on that Sunday when\\nthe Gulf was churned by the most terrible gale that has swept it\\nfor more than half a century, the young fellow was out on a fish-\\ning expedition and met the fate of many of his neighbors; he per-\\nished in that wind of death, and his body went down to the\\ndepths of the sea where no human hands could find it to give it\\nchristian burial. Only the darkness of night sent to her home\\nthe sweetheart who searched for him, and the first gray of the\\ndawo sent her again on her frantic search for her lover. Her\\nreason tottered, and it is probable for months to come that\\nmaid will haunt the waters about Grand Isle hunting for\\nFreddie.\\nSt. Malo was made up of a colony of Malays, natives of the\\nMalay Archipelago, who had congregated in a village ofjtheir\\nown making, beside the waters from which they drew with lines\\nand nets the fish and shrimp that made them a livelihood. They\\nwere a happy congregation of good hearted, simple people, who\\nfelt, each toward his neighbor, that tender, close feeling of\\nalliance, that all feel toward the people of their own race and\\ncountry when far from their native land. Many of these people\\nwere out on fishing expeditions when the tempest swept over\\nthe gulf with such irresistible fury, and they ,^sleep their lust\\nsleep in the depths of the waters that has been both their best\\nfriend and their worst foe. At St. Malo, the Malay men, women\\nand little ones, had a terrible experience. Their homes were", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "78\\nswept away, many of their number were killed, and the survi-\\nvors are a few desolate mourning people, who have neither\\nhomes nor means of making a living, each grief-stricken for the\\nloss of near and dear ones, all seemingly with naught to arouse\\nagain ambition to take up life again with any degree of interest.\\nCarlos Ehring, is one of those who lived to tell of the hor-\\nrors of that Sabbath night, when St. Malo was wiped from the\\nearth by the tempest that spared so little in its path along the\\nGulf coast. Ehring says:\\nAT ST. MALO.\\nWhen the storm came up every one made for my uncle s\\nhouse, as it was the strongest house on the place. There were\\nsixty people huddled together in the house, men, women and\\nchildren. Most of the women were praying, and the men were\\ntrying to comfort them. My uncle had two children in his\\narms; he handed me one of the children, a little giii, about\\ntwo years old. Soon the house began to tremble, and it fell\\nwith a crash. I felt a rush of wind, and I ran, I don t know\\nwhere, but I found myself in the open air. I heard some one\\ncalling, and I called and asked who it was, I found that it", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "79\\nwas John Lewis, a boy sixteen years old. I suddenly thought\\nof an old post, used at one time -as a corner post for a house,\\nand I made toward it with the child in my arms. I knew there\\nwas a crosspiece on the post, and I climbed toward it. Then I\\nassisted John up the post, wrapping my leg around it, with\\nJohn under one arm and the baby pressed close to my breast.\\nWith the other I clung to the post. The waves rolled over us\\nand the baby cried until exhausted. Poor Johnny was nearly\\nscared to death, but I told him not to be afraid, but to cling\\nto me, which he did.\\nThere w^e stayed all night\u00e2\u0080\u0094 from 10 o clock till daybreak\\nnext morning. I was terribly stiff and exhausted when I\\nreached the ground. Then I found that the house we had\\n.THE MALAY HERO.\\nbeen in was completely swept away, and that out of the sixty\\nwho were in the house the night before we were the sole sur-\\nvivors. I found some whisky and bread, which had been\\nwashed under the gallery of the house.\\nThe child had been crying from hunger, so I soaked the\\nbread in whisky and gave it to the child. I could not eat it\\nmyself. About 10 o clock the lugger Continental hove in\\nsight, and we were taken on board.\\nMr. McDonald, son of the mayor of Pass Christian, had a\\nterrible experience, but showed the most remarkable presence\\nof mind recorded during the storm. He was in a sailboat in", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "80\\nfront of Biloxi wben the gale commenced, and was blown over-\\nboard. There were two sailors and a colored boy on the craft,\\nbut they were unable to rescue the young man, for their little\\nvessel was being blown about like a cork on the angry waves.\\nThe colored boy threw Mr. McDonald a plank, however, and\\nthis he grasped and held to and commenced a wonderful\\nstruggle for life. The waves were mountain high, and he was\\ndashed along by the furiously driving wind as if but a feather.\\nHe wore a derby hat, and with presence of mind and coolness\\nthat is almost beyond credence, he made the piece of head\\ngear answer as a life preserver by catching it full of wind and\\nputting it under his chest. In this way the young man kept\\nabove water for more than an hour, and reached the wreck of\\na bridge where he remained until rescued. Mr. McDonald\\nswam almost nine miles in that fearful storm, with only a piece\\nof plank and a derby hat to aid him in his magnificent strug-\\ngle for life.\\nThe strength of the tidal wave may be imagined when it\\nis known that several porpoises were found in the marsh still\\nalive at Tropical Bend, four miles from salt water, where they\\nhad been washed by the wave.\\nA whale, sixteen feet long and weighing several thousand\\npounds, was found washed high and dry on a reef, half a mile\\nwest of the West Jetty Light, four days after the storm, and\\nthis wanderer from the deep was still alive and was the object\\nof much curious scrutiny until some more practical fisherman\\ncame along and killed him to get the oil.\\nOne survivor of the ill-fated Cheniere Caminada was\\npicked i;p four days after the storm far out in the Gulf in a\\nskiff, without oars or sail, and his face bore the unmistakable\\nimprint of the most terrible suffering. For ninety-six hours\\nthat poor unfortunate had drifted at the mercy of the wind\\nand waves, scorched by the sun and chilled by the night air,\\nwithout water or nourishment except a small catfish which he\\ncaught and ate raw the day before he was rescued\\nOne of the saddest and most startling sights that met the\\nband that penetrated the swamps after the storm in search of\\nwounded and dead was the corpse of Mrs. Geo. Danton. Deep\\nin the SAvamps, where the trees grow so close together their\\nboughs were intertwined and made a roof of green that kept\\nout sun and rain, save in one spot where a giant oak stood in a\\nsmall clear space, she was found A beam of sunlight found\\nits way across a limb of the oak, which was about ten feet from\\nthe ground, and there, showing in clear relief, in that one ray\\nof light in the dark forest, was Mrs. Danton, hanging by a\\ntress of her long, raven black hair to the limb, her body per-\\nfectly nude, her eyes wide open, with the look of horror in\\nthem that froze there by the chill of death when she saw the", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "81\\npandemonium about her and realized her deathVas inevitable\\nin that furious hurricane.\\nThe experience of Joseph Frelich, the little Austrian hero,\\ncould not be told in more beautiful languap^e than that of the\\nreport of his story as follows, by the New Orleans Times-Dem-\\nocrat of Oct 7 It is one of the most pathetic incidents of\\nthat terrible storm:\\nJoseph Frelich is a hero. With his father and friends he\\nhad found the remains of his mother during the day, and when\\nfound by the reporter had just come from her resting place.\\nThe body had been brought in late, not being found until\\nnearly 6 o clock. The sad scenes at the last resting place are\\ndescribed elsewhere. The lad, a mere child, had passed\\nthrough experiences within a few days that would age him\\nmore than years of natural life. His home was at Bayou\\nCook. There had been seven in the famil} father, mother,\\nthree brothers and two sisters. All were at home Sunday\\nnight when the awful visitation came. Their camp was\\nblown down about 10 o clock in the evening. Joe and Rosalie\\nhad been always the most friendly of brothers and sisters. It\\nwas his pride and joy to do for Eosalie all that in older\\npersons would have been termed the ofifices of lovers. She was\\nhis darling and his pet, and when this evening came all his\\nlove and devotion and all hers were shown. But in how sor-\\nrowful and how tender a way. The records of the world might\\nbe searched without finding more heroism than was shown by\\nthese simple fisher folks children amid all the horrors and\\ndarkness of the night. She had given up her life that her\\nbrother might be saved He was to her the type and acme of\\nall that was to be sought as well as her best beloved blood rel-\\native. When the camp was blown down and all were strug-\\ngling for very life in the wild and raging waters, Joe looked\\nfor Rosalie. They had been separated in the blowing down of\\nthe dwelling. Rosalie also had her favorite brother in mind\\nand when they found one another in the darkness, with glad\\ncries they clasped arms and Joe guided her to where a piece\\nof the roof was out of the raging current and a little shelter\\nwas afforded. Soon their frail and insufficient support was\\nswept from them, and here Joe began the story which, were it\\nknown broadcast over this land would render him and his lit-\\ntle dead sister famous I cried to Rosalie when the pieces of\\nroof to which we were clinging were lost to us to put her arms\\naround my neck and hold tight and fast to me. This she did.\\nNo fear was shown by the little darling. She was as brave and\\nas much composed as at any ordinary time\\nMany a time have I had her out in my boats, and she\\nknew the water well she knew me well too. Once she had\\nme strong and good I shouted to her, for notwithstanding we", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "82\\nwere only a few inches apart, such was the howling of the gale\\nthat no ordinary tones could be heard, to slip up on my back\\nas I struck out to swim, and that I would save us both. She\\nsmiled at me and pulling my head down kissed me twice. I ll\\nnever forget how beautiful she looked as she gazed into my\\nej^es for what was the last time. Having twisted herself about\\nand securing a firm clasp of her arms around my neck, she\\nshouted in my ear Joe, darling, now go quick. I ll help\\nyou all I can.\\nOff we were, and water all over us, down into the seeth-\\ning and boiliog waves. Sometimes under, sometimes, for a\\nbrief time, on the surface but we kept up and I began to\\nhave hope. Big logs came swirling and hissing by us and we\\nwere nearly forced apart, but still we struggled on. It was\\nnearly a mile to land from where we started. We must have\\nbeen in the water half an hour when I was becoming weak and\\nfaint. I am a good swimmer and the Mississippi River never\\nhad a better one, and everybody gathered around knew the\\nlad was telling the truth, but the pressure of sister s arms\\naround my neck had interfered with my breathing, which,\\nunder any circumstances, would have been hard enovigh, and\\nI was short of wind. I began to go deeper and deeper into\\nthe foul water each time it was more and more difficult to re-\\ncover myself and dimness and darkness seemed to be rushing\\nthrough my eyes. Rosalie noticed it. She let go one hand\\nand tried in a weak way to help me buffet the waters; but alas\\nwe were making less and less headway. Joe, Joe, good-by\\ndarling good-bye forever, she shouted to me. Save your-\\nself. Good-by, good-by and she was gone. She had volun-\\ntarily sacrificed herself to save me. I caught for her hair,\\nAvhich had become loosened and was floating like a beautiful\\nmass of the ivy moss. I could not reach her and she swept by\\nme. I saw her sink and with all my remaining strength I\\ndived down into the black waters. I couldn t see a thing under\\nthe water, and my strength gone, nearly strangled and ex-\\nhausted, I came to the surface Rosalie had gone. She was\\ndrowned before my eyes and I couldn t save her. There can t\\nbe a good Lord. He never would have allowed it. And the\\nlad broke down and wept. No wonder. Fresh from the grave\\nof a beloved mother and the scenes of his struggle for the life\\nof his only love, brought vividly before him by the recital of\\nthe tale, were too much, and by kindly friends he was led away\\nto be taken care of by sympathizing and generous neighbors.\\nThe body of Rosalie has been recovered.\\nA tale of horrible suffering was told by a party that were\\nrescued at Southwest Pass, four days after the storm:\\nThe party was as follows Leon Torrio, Paul Gautrie, A\\nTerrebonne, Andre Colon, Alcide Pinsene, Dupre Terrebonne,", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "8S~\\n0. Terrebonne, Joseph Bonette, Alcide Bonnette Alexis\\nCroby, an American, named Gaspard, an Australian and three\\nMalays. The American, Australian and Malays were picked\\nup in Bayou Andre. The others came from Oheniere. These\\nunfortunates were all in Torio s house when the wave came that\\ncarried the house away and threw them into the sea. They say\\nthat just before the storm the wind was from the east. Then\\nit Inlied and the water beg an to rise very rapidly and the house\\nof Torrio was swept away. The nine men clung to planks\\nand doors and managed to bind their frail supports together\\nin the form of a raft, and on this they floated out to sea and\\nmet the party from Bayou Andre and they floated about\\nfor four days before they reached the Pass and received suc-\\ncor. Their bodies were parched and swollen and they were so\\nhaggard and weak they presented a most pitiful appearance.\\nAll they had to subsist on for ninety-six hours had been the\\ndead rats and animals that floated near enough their raft to be\\nreached by the starving men, and not a drop of water had\\npassed the parched lips of the unfortunates since they had\\nbeen swept out into the storm-lashed waters the Sunday night,\\nfour days before their rescue.\\nThe following is from the New Orleans Times-Democrat\\nof Oct. 8:\\nAmong the passengers who arrived on the Grand Isle\\ntrain, a week after the storm, were two Slavonian fishermen,\\nMatthew Culuz and Matthew Eumarich. These men were five\\ndays clinging to an upturned boat, floating in the Gulf of\\nMexico without a mouthful of food or a drop of water. Emaci-\\nated and bruised, with sunken eyes, hollow cheeks and the\\nskin peeled off their faces in large patches, they presented a\\npitable appearance. The men s clothing consisted of a suit of\\nunderclothing, every other garment having been lost during\\nthe great storm\\nOn their arrival they were taken in charge by the Slavo-\\nnian Society and furnished with clothing and medical attend-\\nance. The men were seen at the store of Mr. Baccich by a\\nTimes-Democrat reporter. They were hardly able to talk,\\nowing to their tongues being swollen from the terrible suffer-\\nings undergone. What could be gathered from their incoher-\\nent talk would furnish a tale of suffering and distress which\\nwould rival any of the best stories of our best writers of naval\\nfiction, the difference only being that in the case of these mfen\\nit is a demonstrated fact, the condition of the men showing\\nplainly that theirs is no ordinary tale of suffering.\\nThe man Culuz, when he arrived, was not recognized by\\nhis most intimate friends around the French Market.\\nFrom a stout hearty man of 165 pounds, straight as an\\narrow, he is now bowed down, with stooping shoulders, and a", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "84\\nlook of despair on a face which must have had an intelligent\\nlook before the present awful experience. His present weight\\nis 132 pounds, a falling off of 33 pounds in five days. His com-\\npanion, Matthew Rumarich, is a swarthy heavy built man, with\\na full beard, and twinkling brown eyes, which have not lost\\ntheir lustre, notwithstanding the hardships undergone in the\\nlast few days. He did not appear to suffer as much as his\\ncompanion, although he complains of his chest feeling sore\\nand a difficulty of breathing.\\nMATHEW RUMARICH and MATHEW KU1.UZ.\\nThe men were in their fishing camp on Razor Island, in\\nGrand Lake, in the early part of last Sunday s storm, and\\nwhile the water was rising the men, realizing that it was m ore\\nthan an ordinary storm, pulled up the floor of the camp to\\nkeep the building from floating away. Ere this work was fin-\\nished the water was several feet deep in the camp They\\nsought refuge in the loft of the house, thinking the building\\nwould weather the gale. In this they were disappointed,_as in", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "85\\na short time tlie building gave way and they were buried\\namong the ruins. Fortunately the house broke up and each\\nmanaged to secure a piece of the wreck. They became sepa-\\nrated and Rumarich came in contact with a submerged skiff,\\nwhich he caught hold of, abandoning the rude raft. Culuz\\nalso floated- close to the skiff, and guided by his companion s\\ncries, managed to join him.\\nAll night long they clung to the skiff, buffetted by the\\nwaves and drifting they knew not whither When morning\\ndawned they were terrified to find that they had di ifted out of\\nsight of land and were in the open Gulf. The wind had calmed\\ndown considerably, but the sea, as usual, after a storm, was\\nrunning high and they were still obliged to exert all their\\nstrength to keep hold of their frail support. Finding that the\\nheavy clothes they wore were an impediment to them, holding\\nthem in the water, they began the work of stripping them-\\nselves. This was no easy task, with the waves carrying their\\nlittle craft first high on a wave and then dashing them with\\nhurricane force into a trough of the sea. All day Monday the\\nmen clung to the boat, keeping a sharp lookout for a passing\\nvessel.\\nMonday night came and went and the sun rose on Tues-\\nday with still no change in their dreadful situation. All day\\nTuesday the men held on, still hoping against hope, and al-\\nthough their bodies were soi-e and every muscle ached they\\nstill clung to their only support. Through the long hours of\\nTuesday night the men tried to cheer one another, and both\\nkept a lookout, with the delusive hope that a passing vessel\\nwould come close enough to hear their cries. Wendesday\\ncame and the real suffering of the men commenced. With a\\nhot sun beating down on them and the salt spray flying over\\ntheir uncovered backs, their skin commenced to blister and\\npeel off, leaving the raw, tender flesh beneath.\\nOver the raw flesh the waves would wash the sun\\nthen coming down would still further aggravate their misery.\\nAdded to this they were intensely thirsty and weak from their\\nlong fast.\\nAfter dark on Thursday, probablv about 9 o clock, Rumar-\\nich cried out to his companion in their native tongue: Nvala\\nBogu ero, svjetlos Thank God, here is a light. True enough,\\nthere before them was a lighthouse, and as they had often\\nsailed around it they recognized it as being the lighthouse at\\nSouthwest Pass. The wind was blowing then directly toward\\nthe light and they looked on their deliverance as being near\\nat hand. Slowly they drifted towards the light and were al-\\nready thanking God for their escape when suddenly the wind\\nfreshened and veered round to another direction and the seem-\\ningly doomed men were again driven out to sea.", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "86\\nCuluz then gave way in despair and loosened his hold of\\nthe boat. His companion caught him by the hair and dragged\\nhim back to the skilf, saying: Nebojse. Dont fear we shall\\nbe saved yet. After that Kumarich had to use his best per-\\nsuasive powers to induce his companion to retain his hold.\\nTwice Culuz cast himself adrift and each time he was caught\\nby his spirited shipmate.\\nIt was well that he did not abandon the craft, for deliver-\\nance was, unknown to them, close at hand.\\nEarly Friday morning, at about 2 o clock, as near as they\\ncould judge, their feet touched bottom and they waded ashore.\\nIn walking around the island they saw the light of a lugger,\\nlying about a quarter of a mile from the island.\\nOne of the men, Culuz, although weak and exhausted, un-\\ndertook to swim to the lugger, being fearful of taking the\\nchance of waiting till morning. He reached the lugger safely\\nand immediately a boat was dispatched for his companion.\\nBefore the boat reached the beach, Michel Sacanogao, who was\\nhunting lost friends, pulled to the beach and took off Rumar-\\nich. I hey were taken by the Louisiana, the rescuing boat,\\nand cared for.\\nThursday two men were at the landing at Gretna awaiting\\na boat that was en route to Cheniere. One was white faced,\\nhaggard and desperate looking and when the boat arrived he\\ntook passage, after bidding his companion an affectionate fare-\\nwell. The appearance of the man who had left was such that\\ninquiry was made of the other as to his identity, and the cause\\nof his grief stricken appearance. The man refused to give his\\nname, but said, It is my brother you saw me tell good-bye. He\\nhas gone to Cheniere, and I shall never see him again, never.\\nHis wife and five children perished in the storm, and every-\\nthing he possessed of earthly value was swept away by the wind\\nand waves, and he has gone to commit suicide on the spot where\\nhis loved ones met their sad fate.\\nThe men were not alone in their deeds of daring and self-\\nsacrifice, women, in many instances, showed wonderful presence\\nof mind and fortitude. Mrs. Barbier, the wife of Capt. John\\nBarbier, whose camp is on Grand Bayou, proved herself one of\\nthe heroines that were developed in that night of terror, devas-\\ntation and death. Her husband was in New Orleans, and she\\nwas at their home with her five small children,|the eldest but nine\\nyears old, when the storm commenced The little ones became\\npanic stricken when the wind shrieked above the house like an\\narmy of demons; and when the waters rose beneath the build-\\ning and upheaved the floor, it was only by the greatest effort\\nMrs. Barbier succeeded in getting her children on the only piece\\nof floor that remained a small fragment in one coruei:. Just as\\nshe pulled one frightened little fellow to her, the baby she had", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "-87-\\nclasped in her arms, was swept from her, and she never saw it\\nagain; its little body was dashed among the debris, and went to\\nswell the list of those who found unknown graves. The house\\nwas unusually strong and stood the tempest, and all night that\\nmother stood in water up to her breast and managed to keep the\\nheads of her other children above the waves, while she mourned\\nthe loss of her babe which was swept, only God knows whither.\\nAt Savoy there is a house denuded of its eaves. The wind\\nshaved them off as cleanly as if some giant instrument had been\\nused, yet left the house itself otherwise uninjured.\\nGeorge Seferovich had a terrible experience. The big\\nwaves from the Gulf rent his home in bits and threw him, his\\nwife and two children into the foaming, storm-lashed waters.\\nBefore his very eyes he saw a huge piece of timber crush his\\nwife, the mother of the two children he was struggling to save.\\nHe heard the wails of his little ones for the mother they loved,\\nand his own heart echoed their cries, yet he fought for life for\\nthe sake of his little ones One child climbed on his back and\\nclung round his neck, but finding the huge waves that ever and\\nanon broke over them, were strangling the child, he seized it by\\nits clothing with the same hand that held up the other, and\\nstruggled toward a tree. When that haven was almost reached,\\na big cypress log swooped down upon them, and struck the\\nchild who he was supporting by its dress. The brave Austrian\\nfelt the shock of the awful blow it received, and he longed, yet\\nfeared, to learn the extent of his darling s injuries. The wind\\nshrieked above them and the rain beat upon them fiercely, and\\nalmost exhausted, Seferovich pulled himself and his children up\\ninto the tree. Then he looked into the face of the child who\\nhad been struck by the cypress log. It shown white in the dark-\\nness, and no heaving of the tiny bosom told the anxious father\\nthat his darling still lived. The form of the little one stiffened\\nin his grasp. Its soul had winged its flight to the mother, gone\\njust before. All night the brave Austrian hugged the bodies of\\nthe dead and the living child; and there he was found in the\\nmorning, stupid with grief and exhaustion.\\nFrancoise La France, a man of magnificent phisique, and\\nwonderful strength by reason of his tall, well proportioned stat-\\nure, and muscles that were hardened by daily toil, saved his wife\\nand four children from the ruin of their home at Riceland, but\\nhis first born, a sturdy little fellow, who was the pride of his\\nparents, met his death in a horrible manner When the roof\\nbegan to cave in, Mr La France called to his family to leave the\\nbuilding, and himself caught the rafters and heavy boards on\\nhis broad back, and prevented their crushing his wife and younger\\nchildren. When he supposed his dear ones were all out of his\\nhome he struggled out into the storm himself and hurried with\\nhis family to the home of his nearest neighbor where his first ex-", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "clamatlon, as he staggered across the tliresliold, was Thank God\\nwe are all saved. But the mother s eye missed one from the\\nnumber of her family. Michel, the oldest boy, was not there. Back\\nthrough the fierce wind and driving rain the frightened parents\\nwent, accompanied by their neighbors. The work of removing\\nthe wreck and searching for the lad was commenced in the dark,\\nwith the mother s wails to urge them on to their task. Finally,\\nthe little fellow was found, pinned down by heavy timbers, and\\njust as his crushed body Was discerned some one appeared with\\na lantern, and its yellow light fell across the mangled form and\\nshowed the mother her boy pinned to the earth, with one eye\\nsqueezed from the socket, and one little hand extended, and fast\\nstiffening in the clasp of death, with a rafter across it, that\\nshowed the flesh and bone crushed to a pulp when it was removed.\\nAfter the child was taken from the wreck he was cari ied by his\\nfather, followed by the mother, whose cries could be heard above\\nthe din of the storm, and the sympathizing friends who went\\nwith them to the house they thought would be a haven of safety\\nfor all, until the boy was missed. The next morning, a rough pine\\nbox was made, and the mangled body was laid in it and carried\\nto a spot of high ground and laid to sleep, the sleep eternal, with\\nonly the sobs of his mother and the dull thuds of spads patting\\nthe earth on other graves all about to break the depressing silence\\nthat hovered about that scene of desolation,\\nCharles Dennette, a negro, who lived at Happy Jack, fifty\\nmiles from New Orleans, was in his humble home when the wind\\nbecame furious, and his family clung to him and begged to be\\nprotected from the wrath of ole Marster. The roof of the\\nJiouse was blown off and carried into a neighboring cornfield and\\nDennette bade his family get out of doors as the house was sure\\nto fall upon them if they did not leave it. All but two of the\\nfamily escaped to the yard before their home caved in, but two\\nchildren were crushed beneath the fallen timbers, and then were\\ncremated by the fire that started among the debris. The rushing\\nwinds fanned the flames until, but a few moments later, nothing\\nremained to Dennette of his home or the two children burned\\nwith it, not even the ashes, for they were blown far and wide.\\nAmong those who were doomed by that fatal storm was a\\ngentlemen from New York, whose name is not known, for all\\nthose who had been wont to associate with him passed beyond the\\npossibility of giving their evidence. He came from the North,\\nand left his home and kindred who were dear to him, to seek\\nhealth in the balmy southland. The breezes of mild tempei*-\\nature at Cheniere had wooed back to the stranger the strength\\nhe sought, and he lingered with the people who had been his\\ncompanions for a half a year, because he had grown attached to\\nthem and their beautiful land, and he was slow to bid farewell\\nto the scenes where he had found health and strength. But the", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "89\\nstorm came and is now but a memory, and the family of the\\nstraoger in the far North will look in vain for his return. He will\\ngo home never more. His body rests with a host of others in a\\nshallow grave dug by a band of good Samaritans who laid to rest\\nthe victims of the great storm. Instead of gaining a new lease\\nof life down among the orange trees and salt breezes, the north-\\nern stranger met death and an unknown grave, death in a\\nstrange land with no loved one near, the sad fate the Hindoo\\never fears, and that he prays may not befall his friends in his\\nbenediction may you die among your kindred.\\nNear Fort Jackson the receding waters left a sad spectacle\\nfor the band of rescuers who came that way soon after the storm.\\nCaught in a barbed wire fence were the bodies of three little\\ngirls, sisters no doubt, tor the same brown curls clustered around\\nthe faces of each, and the features were strongly similar. Each\\nheld one hand of the other in a close death grip, and they wei e\\nnot separated by those who dug the shallow grave in which they\\nwere placed. Side by side the Jittle girls were laid upon a litter\\nof planks, and green boughs covered forever the sweet iaced\\ndead children who went together over Death s river, and the\\nstrong men who piled the boughs above their bodies were not\\nashamed of the tears that trickled down their rough cheeks as\\nthey buried, without coffins, shroud or burial service, some\\nmother s darlings, some father s pride.\\nWhen the first light dawned of the coming day that was to\\nreveal in all its hideousness the desolation and ruin created du-\\nring the darkness of that Sabbath night, Mr. Fred Sfcockfleth\\nheard a plaintive sobbing out in the shadows of a pile of debris\\nthat was being tossed by the falling waters. Wondering if there\\ncould be any living being among that stack of wreckage, lie called\\nIs any one there? and a weak baby voice sobbed I is, and\\nanother childish tone added, and me. There were not many\\nminutes between the time when those little ones were heard cry-\\ning miserably out on the dark water, that was ruffled by the cold\\nmorning air, until brave Fred. Stockfleth pushed his way on a\\nplank, to their sides. There, crouched on a huge log, were two\\nchildren, a boy and a girl: the boy, who was evidently two or\\nthree years older than his little sister, was about eight years\\nof age. With one arm around the shoulders of the sister whose\\nlong blonde curls were crushed against his shoulder, that little\\nfellow had alternately begged don c cry, sister, and then sobbed\\npitifully himself, for hours, while the log on which they drifted\\nwas many times almost careened or sunk, by others. Their baby\\ntongues lisped this broken story to Mr. Stockfleth, of some of\\ntheir trials out in the darkness and danger of that night, but\\nneither could tell what their names were. Only sister, and\\nbuzzer had they been taught to call each other, and when an\\neffort was made to learn what name their parents were called by,", "height": "3466", "width": "2010", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "-00\\ntlie cries of the children for Mamma and Papa, were so piti-\\niful their new friends desisted in their efforts to learn their iden-\\ntity; and nuless some acquaintance sees and recognizes these lit-\\ntle waifs of the storm they will have to go through life without\\nthe knowledge of father, mother or kindred, unacquainted even\\nwith their own name.\\nNick Salotich and John Perovich. two of the survivors,\\nworked among the injured and buried the dead near their camp\\non Bayou Cook, all Monday, and late in the evening rejoiced in\\nthe discovery of some hard tack and fresh water, which they\\nfound in a portion of a wrecked lugger. On this meagre refresh-\\nment they subsisted until Wednesday, when it gave out, and they\\nstarted toward the city for succor. They had not proceeded far\\nwhen they discovered two objects on the sandy beach, weakly\\nmoving, and hurried to discover who the beings were, and to\\nhelp them, if possible. They found Nicholas Micisich, and John\\nDescovich, both bereft of their reason. These unfortunates had\\nmanaged to save themselves from the watery grave their families\\nfound, but their fate was far worse than if they had succumbed\\nto the wind of the hurricane of three evenings previous, for\\nthey had been so bruised and battered they found strength only\\nto descend to the beach the next morning, and there they had\\nlain for three days. The limbs of the tree to which they\\nclung through that night of terror, had bruised and battered\\ntheir bodies, and broken their bones, leaving only a remnant\\nof life that would have been better taken. The sun the\\nnext day shone brightly on their bodies from which the clothes\\nhad all been torn off, and their flesh scorched and blistered\\nin the heat, and their blood coursed madly through their\\nveins from the fever that slowly consumed their vitality.\\nTheir tongues parched and swelled and cracked and hung\\nbleeding from their mouths, and their eyes almost burst from\\ntheir sockets; and while their voices lasted, they buried their\\nbruised hands in the sand, in excess of agony, and cried aloud\\nfor water. Visions of pools of the life-giving elixir that is\\nbrewed in the clouds floated before them, but while they vainly\\nstruggled to reach the limpid depths that would have been to\\nthem the greatest boon, like the mirages of the desert, they\\nkept ever just beyond reach and goaded them to madness.\\nSprings seemed to gush up from the burning sands beside\\nthem, and the cool waters sparkled in the sunlight, and the\\nspray, like a vail of mist between, seemed almost to dash in\\nin their very faces; but when they put out their hands\\nfor just the few drops their palms would have held,\\nthe spring vanished; they were but the result of their\\nfevered fancy. Night came, and the stars looked down on\\nthem, and to the bloodshot eyes of the crazed men, seemed\\nlike fiery torches that added to their fever, and yet failed to", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "91\\nkeep them from shivering when the night air struck their nude\\nand burning bodies. They raved aloud until their tongues\\nbecame so swollen they could not speak, then their senses left\\nthem they became insane. In this awful plight they were\\nfound Wednesday evening by Salovich and Perovich. Human\\nhelp came too late to relieve the agonies of Macisich. A few\\nmoments after he was found, his swollen, blackened body was\\nrelieved of pain by the Master s hand. He was dead. Desco-\\nvich lived to reach a neighboring camp where he was carried\\nSisters of Charity on Picayune Relief Boat,\\nby his rescuers, and food and water were given him, and physi-\\ncians who saw him later say he will probably recover his\\nstrength, but his mind, never. His reason has forever for-\\nsaken him.\\nCapt. Elie Peters and Philip Peters, of the schooner Ees-\\ncue, had a sad and thrilling experience. The vessel capsized\\nin the early hours of Monday morning, and Capt. Peters and\\nhis brothers Allan and Philip clung to a piece of lumber, from\\nwhich they were repeatedly washed until they succeeded in\\ngetting on to a piece of square timber and were carried out to\\nsea. They were at the mercy of the waves for three days and\\nnights. On Wednesday Allan gave out and went down. On\\nthe evening of the same day Capt. Peters saw the waterlogged\\nlugger Raphael Raymo, of New Orleans, with two young men\\non board. He and Philip got on board the lugger and bailed\\nher out, rigged up a sail from some old canvas, and steered", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "her as best tliey could, her rudder being lost. This work took\\nuntil Thursday morning. They were exposed to the elements\\nfour days and nights without food or water except two cans of\\ntomatoes found on the lugger and a little rain water licked up\\nfrom the deck. To Capt. Peters is due the saving of Philip\\nand the two young men on the lugger, as well as himself. He\\nrepeatedly helped his brother Allan back on the stick of tim-\\nber when the seas would wash him off, often letting go and\\nswimming out after him, but all to no purpose. He kept\\nPhilip with him to the last, and by his courage and fortitude\\nmanaged the lugger until land was reached. The two youths\\nin the lugger had abandoned all hope and given up.\\nIn one place a lugger was found after the storm in a dense\\nforest more than a mile from the water, where it had been car-\\nried over the tree tops on that great tidal wave, and left were it\\nnow stands. To launch it again, a road would have to be chopped\\nthrough the woods, and the vessel would have to be hauled\\noverland for a mile before it could be floated again. The ap-\\npearance of a big lugger resting in the midst of a dense forest,\\nwhere no human skill could have ean-ied it, is novel. It must\\nhave been carried on the water above the tops of the tall\\ntrees, and then left where it now is, and allowed to gradually\\nsettle down to the earth as the water receded.\\nIn what is left of the handsome orange orchard of Louis\\nClugigola, toward the northwestern portion of Grand Isle,\\nthere were seen and recognized the fragments of furniture and\\nhousehold goods from Cheniere Caminada, while above them\\nin the wind-whipped leafless branches of the trees were flutter-\\ning the tattered fragments of little children s clothes that had\\nbeen driven some six miles from the Cheniere, grim and sor-\\nrowful reminders of the cold and merciless impartiality of that\\nterrible cyclone.\\nThere was but one white person drowned on Grand Isle,\\nalthough the tempest blew with such terrific force over the re-\\nsort it levelled to the earth almost everything there, and when\\nthe water from the sea swept over it, houses and hotels, trees\\nand furniture were carried out in the Gulf. Several colored\\npeople perished on the island, but Madame Victor Rigaud, was\\nthe only white person there who was sacrificed to the warring\\nelements during that storm that will doubtless prevent Grand\\nIsle from ever again attracting the idle pleasure seekers to its\\nshores. She was a highly respected old lady who had first\\nseen the light on the island, and who had seldom left it during\\nher lifetime. She was the wife of one of the descendants of\\nLafitte s crew, and the couple lived in a house that was over a\\nhundred years old, and which contained many relics of a by-\\ngone jiirate s collection of curios and handsome spoil that\\nfell to his share from Iqoting expeditions, among them five", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "93\\ncopies from originals by Eaphael and Le Brun. Only six weeks\\nbefore the storm a Northern visitor offered the old man $4000\\ncash for the five paintings, and he refused to sell thtm. They\\nhad been in the family, he said, for generations, and no amount\\nof money could buy them. He valued them because they\\nwere valuable, but more because they were heirlooms. When\\nthe storm came the old man gave his attention to his own life\\nand his wife s. They both clung to the roof of their house as\\nlong as they could, but Madam Rigaud was swept off and\\ndrowned.\\nThe name of Lawrence Lawson, the lighthouse keeper at\\nGrand Isle, should be preserved as a hero, for that night when\\nthe winds beat down houses and trees that had weathered a\\ncentury s storms, and sent to the depths of the sea, sturdy ves-\\nsels that never before were injured by the tempests of the deep,\\nbrave Lawrence Lawson stood to his perilous post of duty when\\nit seemed as if his allegiance to his task must be met with death.\\nIn the teeth of the gale, with the roar and rush of the wind\\nabout the lighthouse, sounding like the booming of cannon, and\\nabove it the shrieks of the people who were being dashed to\\ndeath, the keeper climbed the narrow stair-way and kept burn-\\ning the light that shone far out on the boiling waters, and that\\ngleamed, a beacon of hope, to the struggling beings who were\\nbeing tossed about on the seething waves; and many there were\\nwho say that but for that one light that shone in the black of\\nthat stormy night, they must have perished. But ever and anon\\nas they rose to the top of some foam crested wave, they saw the\\nbeacon beaming and renewed their grasp of the plank or tree\\nthat kept them from the jaws of death. The people of Grand\\nIsle speak the name of Lawrence Lawson reverently, and agree\\nthat he played the part of a hero in his performance of duty that\\nawful night, and strong men and little children send aloft in\\ntheir prayers to the Almighty petitions for the Divine blessing\\nto ever rest on this noble, fearless fellow.\\nOf the family of which Mme. Sandras and her cousin, John\\nValence, were members, they alone survive, of their fifty odd\\nkinspeople who lived with them at Cheniere Caminada.\\nThe pilot boat Underwriter picked up Gladimer Lafond, a\\nfourteen year old boy, eighteen miles off South Pass lighthouse,\\neight days after the storm. The poor little fellow was in a piti-\\nable condition, having drifted about on a plank in the Gulf\\neight days without food or water. He was unconscious when\\nfound, and not until liquor had been poured down his throat did\\nbe show any sign of life, and then he only roused sufficiently to\\ngive his name and age, and to say he, with his father and mother\\nhad lived at Cheniere, and they had taken refuge on a lugger\\nwhen the storm burst in its fury, and the vessel had been cap-\\nsized by the wind, and he alone was left to tell the tale.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "94\\nMr. Mendona s house was demolished, but a cabin in the\\nrear withstood the attack of wind and waves. He was absent\\non a trip to the city for provisions when fhe relief boat visited\\nhis place, but his wife, Constantin, a very handsome and edu-\\ncated lady, who spoke excellent English, told a graphic story\\nof the storm to a Times-Democrat reporter: She with her\\ndaughter, Mathilda, a beautiful little dark-eyed miss of ten\\nyears, and her sister were in the hovise when the storm came\\non a little before 9 o clock. From the manner in which the\\nbig house swayed and shook during the storm, they quickly\\ndetermined that their only chance of escape lay in retreating\\nto the smaller cabin. The water was dashing over the high\\ngallery that connected the two buildings, but they clung to the\\nnarrow walk as they crawled along on their hands and knees,\\nand finally reached the cabin, hardly knowing how they did so.\\nThey fastened the doors and windows tightly, feeling that they\\nhad made they last stand against despair and death.\\nWe can only pray, said Constantin Mendoza to her sis-\\nter and daughter. The swaying of the cabin had thrown the\\nclock and the lighted lamp, which stood on the same shelf,\\nhalf way across the room and they were in blackest darkness,\\nfearing every moment that the great waves, which were now\\nmaking clean breaches over the roof, would bring it down upon\\ntheir heads, while th(( immense volume of water that was roll-\\ning under the house threatened to burst open the floor or tear\\nthe whole structure in pieces. Mrs. Mendoza groped about for\\nmatches, and ultimately finding them, she lit the candles on\\nthe little alter, and setting the example herself, she exhorted\\nthe others to pray for divine aid. The altar was only a little\\ncracker box, neatly cover with wall paper, having a crucifix\\nand decorated with scriptural pictures.\\nIt was firmly fixed to the wall and when the candles within\\nit had been lighted tney threw a dim shaft of pale yellow light\\ninto the thick and almost palpable darkeess of the room.\\nThen, with the wind striking wildly as it swept through the\\ninky darkness of that awful night, the mountainous waves\\nroaring and thundering on the trembling beach and lashing the\\nslender walls of the cabin till they bent and fluttered like the\\nsails of a schooner in a tempest, these three dark- eyed women\\nknelt upon the heaving, quivering floor, right in the path of\\nthat shaft of yellow light and it strangely illumined their dark\\noval faces, which seemed to come out of the surrounding dark-\\nness with an effect weirdly suggestive of the supernatural.\\nThen came a demand for further action. With a small\\nhatchet they chopped the thin board flooring and soon they\\nwere waist deep in the heaving water. The black waves rose\\nand fell as they lapped and splashed the furniture in the dark\\ncorners of the room, but still the candles, set deep in the altar", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "95", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "96\\ntheir flames almost toiicbin J? the crucifix, threw that shaft of\\ndim yellow light out upon the dark heaving water that threat-\\nened to swallow them up. and stilJ, though chilled to the heart\\nwith terror and bitter cold and deafened by the dreadful roar-\\ning of the hungry seas as they thundered along the low-lying\\nbeach and swept across the broad levels of sea marsh, they\\nturned their pale faces up to that dim light, while their blue\\nand quivering lips moved in prayer. Thus they prayed and\\nwept and waited for dawn. It came at last and the storm\\npassed away with the darkness. Though the tempest had\\nswept away about all that thrift, industry and good fortune\\nhad converted into a happy and prosperous home for the Men-\\ndoza family, they were happy and thankful that Monday morn-\\ning s svin brought to them the knowledge that no breach had\\nbeen made in the home circle.\\nPerhaps one of the most thrilling experiences of the storm\\nwas told by a woman who drifted in to shore lashed to a log.\\nShe, her husband and two children had taken refuge on board a\\nschooner anchored outside of Bayou Cook, and intended to ride\\nout the gale. When the wind came from the west, followed by\\na mammoth wave, the husband and two children were washed\\noverboard, and the lugger s mast, snapping off at its foot, drifted\\nfrom the side of the vessel. The frantic woman jumped for the\\nfloating timber and in some way lashed herself to it. All night\\nshe drifted through Adam s bayou and the neighboring bays,\\nand when daylight came she was picked up by the lugger Venus.\\nShe was brought to Mr. Fred Stockfleth s, half naked, starved\\nand terribly bruised about the body, and half crazed with grief for\\nthe loss of her husband and children.\\nVillechere Vinet, who lived on Bayou Challon, with his\\nfather, mother and brother, took refuge on a raft, and they\\nwere tossed about all through that night of terror, in the dark-\\nness, wind and rain. When the day dawned, the father caught\\na pirogue that floated near, and entered it to go for aid for his\\nfamily. He had not gone two boat lengths when the frail craft\\noverturned, and the father went down to rise no more. The\\nmother sprang to the edge of the raft and waited several min-\\nutes, gazing on the water for the re-appearance of her life com-\\npanion, but he was fast in the sea weed in the depths beneath.\\nThen she leaped into the bayou and was again united with her\\nhusband, this time on the shores of Eternity, to part never more.\\nThe eldest son seeing both parents drown, leaped from the raft,\\nand he, too, found a watery grave, leaving only the last member\\nof the family, the boy Villechere, to tell the story. He was\\npicked up several hours later, dazed with grief and half dead\\nfrom exhaustion.\\nThere is but one member of Emile Prosperi s family of six-\\nteen to tell how the storm beat against their home and the fate", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "97\\nii meted out to the others. A boy ten years old is the survivor.\\nHe, with his father, mother, brothers and sisters were seated\\nabout a table on which a lamp burned brightly, lighting the\\npages of the old family bible from which the father read the\\nusual evening lesson to his family. The wind howled more\\nfiercely as verse after verse of the good Book was read, until the\\nvoice, that told the story of the death that gave to mankind hope\\nbeyond the grave, was drowned by the war of the tempest.\\nThe house trembled and swayed as the great tidal wave rose\\nrapidly beneath and around it and beat against its walls.\\nStricken with sudden terror the family rushed toward the attic,\\nbut the ten year old boy who survived, was slower of motion\\nthan the rest, and to this fact he owes his life. Before he reached\\nthe stairway the other members of his family had ascended, the\\nfloor was upheaved, and before he realized what was happen-\\ning, he was borne out on the flood, and into a tree a hundred\\nyards beyond. Then he saw a tiny flame shoot up from the.\\nhalf collapfed building then another and another, until, in a\\nfew moments the wild scene about was illumined by the\\nflames, that started by the overturned lamp, enveloped Pros-\\nperi s home. The cries of the family j^enned in the garret were\\nborne above the howling of the tempest, and the boy in the\\ntree clung to the branches and watched the burning funeral\\npyre of his loved ones, and was found by a rescuing party the\\nnext day.\\nMrs. Frank Kranz, Jr., a daughter-in-law of the hotel pro-\\nprietor of Grand Isle, lost one hundred and fifty relatives in the\\nstorm. Among them was her sister, the wife of John Valence,\\nof Cheniere Caminada. When the survivors at stricken Cheniere\\nwere counted Mrs. Valence, who was shortly expected to become\\na mother, was missing. Her body could not be found, and she\\nwas enrolled among those who had found a grave in the waters\\nof the gulf, or whose bones were blf-aching in the trackless sea-\\nmarsh of the shore. Five weeks after the storm the crew of a\\nlugger dancing over the dimpling waters of the gulf descried a\\ndark spot on the blue water twenty miles from land. The lug-\\nger s course was altered and it bore down upon the object. As\\nit approached the crew made out the object to be a raft and on\\nit a motionless figure; its dress proclaimed it a woman, its\\nposture announced it dead. But these fishermen resolved to\\ngive it christian burial and took the raft in tow and made for\\nland.\\nBy the clothing the body was recognized as that of Mrs.\\nValence. Swept to sea on that awful night, she had managed,\\nin her desperate struggle for her own life and that of her unborn\\nbabe, to gather a few planks of the wreckage and construct the\\nrude raft iipon which her body was found. The thought of this\\nhelpless woman alone, in her condition, upon that night of\\ndeath, was awful enough, but when tender hands sought to lift", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "98\\nthe emaciated body from the few planks which bore it up, the\\nfull horror of her fate was seen. By her side lay the naked\\nbody of a new born babe. On a frail support of a few rough\\nplanks, tossed on the waters of a storm lashed sea, with the de-\\nmon of the storm as the only attendant, that young life was\\nushered into the world, to die. What pen can paint, what\\nimagination can picture, the awful fate of that helpless woman,\\nslowly starving to death on that awful expanse of water with the\\nwails of her famished babe ringing in her ears Mother and\\nchild had perished from starvation.\\nArchie Williamson, A Hero of Caminada.\\nWhile the storm was raging on that awful night and death\\nwas riding abroad on the wings of the wind the crossing of the\\nelectric wires in the city of New Orleans caused the fire bells to\\nring continuously through the night. Not with the rapid\\nclangor of the fire alarm, but with the slow and measured toll\\nof the passing bell. The weirdness of that eerie sound cannot\\nbe imagined, much less described.\\nBorne on the pinions of the rushing wind each mournful\\nstroke smote on the hearing of the startled listener with a fu-\\nneral sound, ominous of disaster. And so it proved. The latest\\nfound element of nature tolled the knell of the hundreds of vic-\\ntims who, on bay and bayou, in marsh, swamp and prairie, on\\nthe shores of the river, the coasts of the gulf and the islee of the\\nsea, were falling before that awful Wind of Death.\\nriNis.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "^^CheniQiG Caminada.\\nCopies mailed, post paid, to any address for\\n25 cents.\\n^IJ^Agents wanted everywhere Liberal com-\\nmissions paid.\\nAddress: MISS ROSE C. FALLS,\\n910 Magazine Street,\\nNew Okle.\\\\ns, La.\\nWOOD, SCHNEIDAU CO.,\\nWHOLESALE AND RETAIL.\\nSteamships, Steamboats, Flaiitatiotis, Rice Mills, Cotton Presses.\\nFoundries, Dealers and Families Supplied.\\nMAIN OFFICE -43 Oarondelet Street,\\nCOAL YARD.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Foot of Race Street on Levee.\\nTelephone 576. NEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nCHARLIE WOOD TRANSPORTATIOH CO.\\nELMER E. WOOD ^TRAHSPORTATIOIT CO.\\nCZ:::^ TUG- BOAOTS =5^0\\nW. M. WOOD, CHARLIE WOOD,\\nELMER E. WOOD.\\nTO^V^ING DO^JE AX RK-A-SON ABLE RATES\\nMAIN OFFICE LEVEE OFFICE\\n43 Carondelet Street. Foot of Julia Street.\\nTeleplioae 5T6. Telephone C4:a.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "A. M. J. SOLARI, Limited,\\n27, 29 31 Royal Street,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nNovember 8th, 189H.\\nTO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN\\nWe have just received an entire fresh stock of all kinds of Fancy\\nFamily Grocei-ies, lioth foreign and domestic.\\nWe would be pleased to- show you our capacious stock when in the city,\\nor send you one of our catalogues, from which you can gain some idea of our\\nvery large assortment. We can safely say, without fear of contradiction,\\nthat we carry the finest line of Fancy Groceries in the United States.\\nIn our catalogue we do not put prices, as we always give the prices of the\\nday on which inquiry is made. Should any items lie wanted not in our line,\\nwe will cheerfully get same and ship with your orders, thereby saving you\\nsome little extra charge. We pack and deliver all goods to depots free of\\nchar-^e. Yours truly, A. M. J. SOLARI, Limited.\\nTHE FINEST AND BEST\\nFOR SALE BY\\nL Grunewald Co., Limited\\n137 Canal Street.\\nLOWEST PRICES!\\nEASIEST TERMS.\\nORGANS AND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS OF EVERY DESCRIPTIOl|\\nSEND FOR CATALOGUE.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "1?KE OLD RELIABLXi.\\nLouisville and Nashville R.R.\\nLIMITED EXPRESS DAILY\\nIN PULMANN VESTIBULED CARS.\\nTO\\nMoiitg oniery, Birniiiig^liam,\\nNashville, Louisville,\\nCincinnati, Atlanta,\\nJacksonville, Wasliing^ton,\\nBaltimore, Philadelphia\\nand ENew York,\\nThrough Without Change.\\nOur limited vestibule service from NEW ORLEANS TO NEW\\nYORK without change makes several hours the quickest\\ntime to competitive points.\\nNO EXTRA FARE WILL BE CHARGED ON THIS TRAIN.\\nDining Cars Attached and Meals Served en route.\\nCity Ticket Office, corner St. Charles and Com-\\nmon streets. Depot Ticket Office, foot of Canal st.\\nJOHN KILKENY, Div. Pass. Agent.\\nC. P. ATMORE, G. P. A., Louisville, Ky.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "F. CODMAN FOUD, Agt.\\nBUILDING SPECIALTIES,\\nREPRESENTING\\nNorthwestern Terra Ootta Co.\\nPioneer Fire Proof Oonstrnction Co.\\nAkron Roofing Tile Works.\\nThe Hydraulic Press Brick Co.\\nStar Encaustic Tile Co., Ltd\\nW. H. Evans Sod s Italiaa M Tennessee Marlile, and MarWe Mantels.\\nFIRE CLAY FLUE LINING IN STOCK aud by CAR LOADS.\\nARCHITECTURAL TERRA COTTA.\\nFinials, Crestings, Bevel Plates,\\nHip Rolls Chimney Tops, Leaded and Art Glass,\\nIn Stock and by Carloads. For Doors and \\\\Vindo vs.\\nEstimates and Designs Furnished on Application.\\njg@-OFFIOE AND SHOW EOOM, 63 BARONNE STREET,--^\\nWAREHOUSE FOOT OF UNION ST.\\nTelephone H51 Bos M. D. L. Ex. 104. NEW ORLEANS.\\nWid. LEON LAfflOTHE CO,\\nWholesale Hetail Liquor Dealers,\\nS3 ST. CHARLES ST.,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nPROPRIETORS OF\\nLEON S EESTAURANT, 23 St. Charles St.,\\nWhere the best of the market is served. Cuisine unsurpassed,\\nand its cellar stocked with the Finest Wines.\\nAnd ST, CHAHLES BAE HOOM, Icwer Botunda, St. Charles Hotel,\\nand COMMEBCIAL BAB, Cor. Camp and Commercial Place,\\nWhere are served the Finest Wines and Liquors\\nin the South.\\nHot Lnnch from 11 A. JM. till 1 F*. IVt.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "WHAT IS THEA-NECTAE, 1\\nIt is the Finest Tea Imported. Try\\nit once and you will use no other.\\nTHEA-NECTAR\\nis the Finest Flavored Pure Natural Leaf Tea ever\\noffered to the Public. It is a Black with a Green\\nTea Flavor, and is a selection of the choicest\\nleaves from the Best Tea Districts. It will suit\\nall tastes. It is cured upon porcelain in the same\\nmanner as if prepared tor native consumption.\\nIt is delicious in flavor, perfectly healthy, of full\\nstrength and very economical.\\nOne Pound of this Tea Mailed (o any Address on receipt of 75 cents.\\nMain Office: 182 Canal St.,\\nCor. Ui3iversit7 Place,\\nBRANCHES\\n609 Magazine St.,\\nand 440 Dryades St.\\nTelephone 701 New Orleans, La.\\nTHE GREAT\\nATLANTIC AND PAeiFIG\\nTEA CO.\\n3Iauufacturers of\\nJ. H. KELLER S SOAP WORKS, \u00e2\u0080\u00a2x\u00e2\u0096\u00a0ox3Ll:E3^E\u00e2\u0096\u00a0 ssk: a.ie !S,\\nOffice, 110 GRAVIER ST., New Orleans, La.\\nThe highest Market Price paid for TALLOW, GREASE and OILS, Correspondence solicited.\\nIq orderin from your Grocer or Direct from us. state Keller s Brand and Size Bars to\\nbox and if wrapped or unwrapped. Do not accept substitutes from your Grocer tor our Brand.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "imiL^^\\nLj%\\nCorner Canal and St. Charles Streets,\\n\u00c2\u00a9sri\\ni^llM\\nUSED OVER THE BAR\\nARE AS PINE AS CAN BE HAD.\\nttespectfully,\\nL. C. WILT, Proprietor.\\ncl\u00c2\u00ae Mm VlllHW^-\\nCROCKERY,\\nPLATEI WARE\\nAND HOUSE FURNISHING GOODS.\\nIV o. 168 Canal Street, JV^etv Orleans, La,\\nOFFICE AND RESIDENCE,\\n2To, 1041 MAGAZZXTS STB.SST,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nHours Until lo A. M. and from 2 to 4 P. M\\nJNO. C. CHAS. A. WICKLIFFE,\\nATTORNEYS AT LAW,\\n^E=L DCD10CL IS,\\nIDeneg-re JB-U-ilciiiagr,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "GOOD WORK.\\nLOW PRICES.\\nPRINTING OFFICE,\\n20 and 22 Commercial Place,\\nNear St. Charles St., NEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nAll Rinds of Printing Done at the Lowest Prices.\\nJOHN P. HOPKINS.\\nSe^wer and Oiilvert JPipe,\\nFIRE BRICK, FIRE TILE,\\nFIRE CLAY, FLUE PIPE, CHIMNEY TOPS, AND ALL\\nKINDS OF FIRE CLAY PRODUCTS.\\nO UIVIOIV STP^JEET, 9\\nP. O. Box 1615. NEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nFACTORY PRICES FOR CA.R LOAD LOTS.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "HENRY KAHN.\\nTelephone 964.\\nLAZARE LEVY\\nKAHN LEVY,\\nAISTD\\nCOMMISSION MERCHAHTS,\\n111 113 PoydraS St., New Orleans, La.\\np. O. Box 1059.\\nJ8@\u00c2\u00b0^ Best attention paid to purchasing Goods of all kinds.\\nConsignments of Cotton, Sugai-, Molasses, Rough Rice, Hides,\\nWool and all Country Produce Respectfully solicited.\\n1\\nCRESCEITT CITY\\nMoss Ginnery,\\nOffice, 52 DECATUR ST.,\\np. O. Box 395. 1\\nI\\nSOL. STERN, Manager. i\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nWACKERBARTH, JOSEPH CO j\\nEstablished 1866.\\ni\\nMANUFACTURERS OP j\\nOffice and Salesroom, No- 43 Magazine St, I\\ni\\nFactory, 93 95 Julia Street,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "AlTD CAFE RESTAURANT,\\n13 16 Royal Street. Near Canal St.,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nCosmopolitan Annex,\\n16 18 Bourbon St.\\nNow in course of construction. Will be ready\\nJanuary ist, 1894.\\nTHE FINEST LADIES RESTAURANT IN THE SOUTH.\\ni^ ^3\\nd\\nREAL ESTATE BROKER\\nmmM\\n129 Common St.,\\nNew Orleans.\\nOypress and. Fine Lancls for Sfile,\\nLARGE TRACTS DF VIRGIN FOREST,\\nJter-SEND FOR CIRCULAR.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "S. D. Wood, Elmer E. Wood. Will H. WooJ. C. W. Wood.\\nB, D, WOOD SONS,\\n\u00c2\u00ae#\u00c2\u00aeI mM\u00c2\u00a7 Xtwia\\nNo. 92 CAHAL STREET, Morris Building,\\nNEW ORLEANS. LA. j\\n1\\nOFFICE OF TUGS B. D. WOOD ELLA ANDREWS. I\\nPlantations, Steamboats and Stsamships\\nSUPPLIED AT LOWEST MARKET RATES. j\\nBRANCH YARD, PLAQUEMINE, LA.\\nCapt. A. J. CARTER, Manager.\\nLadies and Gent s Restaurant ^f Hotel,\\nDELICACIES OF THE SEASON ALWAYS OIV HAND.\\n102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 108 Customhouse Sts.,\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nBreakfast, 4r0c. Dinner, 50c. LAWRENCE PABACHER, Piop.\\nPHCENIX HOUSE,\\nNo. 96 St. Charles St., next to Academy of Music,\\nIMPORTED AND DOMESTIC\\np. J. CALDWELL, Proprietor.\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "GEO. JURGEHS,\\nSuccessor to FRANK RODER CO., and EDMOND DUBOIS.\\nTmwom s:\\nr^\\nWholesale Liquor Dealer,\\n39 TCHOUPITOULAS STREET,\\n^w \u00c2\u00a9laiiM\u00c2\u00ae. 11.\\nTrade /I^^ark,\\nP^H^c\\nE. H. CHAFFE, President. E. F. Del LONDIO, Vice Pres. Xreas.\\nR. A. BAIRD, Secretary.\\nR. H. CHAFFE CO. Ltd.,\\nHiOULisiatxa.^. IVEcDlatssos\\n44, 46, 48 SOUTH PETERS ST.,\\nF O. Box SO. NE;^V ORLKAlSrS.\\nRIGHT IN IT ALL THE TIME.\\nBest Goods. liowest Prices. Q,uiclvest Service.\\n;8\u00c2\u00ae Send for samples and quotations.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "Is the Largest General Store in the South.\\nOnly the Best Goods liaiulled, and at the lowest possible\\nprofit. This Estal)lishment comprises many stores in one.\\nSilks,\\nShoes,\\nBooks,\\nCarpets,\\nLaces,\\nFancy Goods,\\nStationery,\\nCurtains,\\nDress Goods,\\nBlack Goods,\\nHandkerchie\\nifs. Blankets,\\nWhite Goods,\\nWash Goods,\\nNotions,\\nPictures,\\nMeii s H\u00c2\u00bbts,\\nMillinery,\\nHosiery,\\nMen s Furnishings,\\nCloaks,\\nBoy s Clothing,\\nMuslin\\nLinens,\\nDresses,\\nCorsets.\\nUnderwear,\\nJ Flannels.\\nEtc.,\\nEtc.\\nEtc.\\nWe can fill yovir order as promptly as if we waited on you in person,\\nand will please you as well.\\n155 CANAL ST.\\ni 91\\n(Formerly ST. LOUIS HOTEL,)\\nON EUROPEAN PLAN.\\nB^-LOCATED IN THE HEART OF THE OLD FRENCH\\nQUARTER OF THE CITY.\\nFOUR BLOCKS FROM CAKAL STREET.\\nThoroughly Refitted and* Modernized.\\nROOMS FROM $1.00 UP.\\ni\\nNBW ORLEANS, LA.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "JOS. A. SHAKSPEARE. JULIAN M. SWOOP.\\nShakspeare Iron Works,\\nSHAKSPEABE k SWOOP, Proprietors,\\n219 GIROD STREET, 219\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nSteam [ngines, Sugar Mills, Saw Mills,\\nV-A.OXJXJl^ I^ -AGISTS,\\nSTOBE FRONTS, DBAINING MACHINES, CENTRIFUGAL\\nMACHINES, COLUMNS, VENTILATORS\\nAND GRATE BARS.\\nJ8@- Every Eescription of Machinery and Blacksmith Wcrk. ^a\\nA. K. Miller, Meletta Co,\\nSTEjlMSHIP A!(D SHIP AGEf(TS,\\nRoom 5. COTTON EXCHANGE BUILDING, New Orleans, La.\\nLiverpool Office; 4 Tower Chambers.\\nCable Address: Miller.\\nUse Scott s or Watkin s Code and Appendix.\\nAgents for Glynn, Serra, Larrinaga and Lam-\\nport and Holt Lines of Steamers between New\\nOrleans and Liverpool, Hamburg American Pack-\\net Co. s Steamers between New Orleans and\\nHamburg. Cuban Steamship Line, between New\\nOrleans, Antwerp and London.\\n6\u00c2\u00ae Agents British and Foreign Marine Insurance Co Limited.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "IIIISIIII, BIOS, k C\\nMANUFACTURERS OF THE CELEBRATED\\nLa Belle Creole,\\nEl Belmont,\\no\\nMardi-Gras,\\nJackson Square\\n2^^Standard Brands of Unvarying Excellence,\\nCEi^ GENERAL FAVORITES. ^^^E)\\nFactory, MAGAZINE and JULIA STF.\\nNEW ORLEANS, LA.\\nillf 1 llOf ill\\n99i\\\\\\nXilMlTiCX),\\nWholesale Grocers,\\nAND COFFSE IMPORTERS,\\n103, 10t lOT^ L^afaj ette \u00c2\u00bbts.,\\nNE^A^ ORLEANS, LA.\\nDIRECTORS\\nJ. B. SINNOTT, Pres t Gen l Mj\\nW. H.^CANTZON,|Sec y Treas.\\nGEO. C. BOHNE, Vice-Prest.\\nW. L. SAXON.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "WfJ^K ^^U^^ ^wSI^^jIMV^\\nThis Great Newspaper is published evert/ day in the year.\\nIt is the Brightes Best and Cleanest Paper issued in the South.\\nIt Leads all other Southern Papers in enterprise and completeness as a Newspaper in all departments.\\nIt reaches the homes of the People, and has their confidence and support.\\nIT HAS THE LARGEST CIRCULATION AND\\nIS THE BEST ADVERTISING MEDIUM.\\nIt leads in All Reforms and measures for the good of the South and Humanity.\\nIts System of Gathering Netns has been perfected by Tears of Experience and Liberal Expenditure\\nof Money necessary to promote a Great Paper,\\nTHE SUNDAY PICAYUNE\\nIs especially interesting in its literary features, containing Tales and Poems from the Best\\nWriters, Special Contributions from Pen and Pencil of Talented Authors and Artists, in ad-\\ndition to the NEWS OF THE DAY.\\nTHE WEEKLY PICAYUNE.\\nThis mammoth 16 page paper contains ALL THE NEWS OF THE WEEK, the latest and most\\nreliable Market Reports and Commercial News, more Special Telegrams and Items from South-\\nern States, particularly Louisiana and Mississippi, than any other paper. The Weekly Pica-\\nyune ia published every Thursday morning, and reaches all Subscribers for Sunday Reading\\nTHE DAILY PICAYUNE.\\nDAILY (INCLUDlNa SUNDAY), 10, 12, 16, 20, 22 or 24 Pages.\\nTwelve Months $12 00 Six Months $6 00\\nSUNDAY PICAYUNE, BY MAIL, 22 or 24 Pages.\\nTwelve Months $2 00\\nWEEKLY\u00e2\u0080\u0094 SIXTEENJ^ PAGES.\\nTwelve Months $1 00.\\nNICHOLSON CO., Prop rs Picayune, New Orleans, La,\\nUtx JSToTT. I ESTABLISHED 1868. i^- po^^hs^ne.\\nA. A. WOODS CO.,\\nGeneral Insurance OfTices,\\n37 Carondelei St., Cor. Gravier,\\nOpposite Cotton Exchange,\\nNew Orleans, La.\\nDwelling and Sugar House Risks Especially Solicited.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "DnticHENOftANTISEPTIC\\nor\\ne.\\nWOUNDS. BURNS. BRUISES, SCALDS, COLIC\\nCramps, Cholera morbus 6i flux\\neOLie, BOTTS ron o\\nHORSES MULES.\\nr*/ Kier^f/ti- 1\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2d\\nII\\nProof of the Pudding is in the Eating.\\nSEE HOW OUR HOME DRUGGISTS BUY.\\nn\\nNew Orheans, La., Jan. Ist, 1891.\\nGentlemen Please enter our order for One Hundred\\ngross Dr. Tichenor s Antiseptic.\\nI. L. LYONS CO., Druggists.\\nNew Orleans, La., Nov. 3rd, 1891.\\nGentlemen Please deliver to us at your earliest convenience,\\nOne Hundred gross Dr. Tichenor s Antiseptic.\\nFINLAY BRUNSWIG, Druggists.\\nNew Orleans, La., Oct. 30th, 1893.\\nGents: Please enter us for another One Hundred gross Dr.\\nTichenor s Antiseptic. E. J. HART CO., Druggists.\\nSHERROUSE UEDICINE CO., Ltd.,\\nManufacturers aud Proprietors, NEW OKLEANS, LA.", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "c^^", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "014 646 169 4", "height": "3466", "width": "1979", "jp2-path": "chenierecaminada00fall_0130.jp2"}}