May 30, 2012

GILBERT LABAUVE'S JOURNAL

Journal of Events Worthy of Record in the Life of Gilbert LaBauve, Sr., of West Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana

December 5, 1913 As may be seen at the top of this page, my place of nativity is West Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana. My father was by name Dominique LaBauve. My mother’s maiden name was Marcelite Hebert. My grandfather on my father’s side was Isidor LaBauve and my grandmother’s maiden name was Jeanne Granger, from the island of St. Malo, France. My former ancestors are said to be from Canada, Acadia, and to have landed at Biloxi and, after a while, to have emigrated to Pass Christian in Mississippi. My father often informed me that his grandmother’s maiden name was Ann Theriot, which fact connects my family by relationship to Theriot. My grandmother’s maiden, on my mother’s side, was Marguerite Chiasson and my grandfather on my mother’s side was Amant Hebert. I am related, on the LaBauve side, through the female marriage, to the Legendre’s, Robiliat, and …….

in the month of July, 1854, my father and all his children that were with him, and his wife, Marcelite Hebert, moved to St. Martinsville, then the county seat of St. Martin Parish, now A thriving town. My family moved to that place in a flat-bottomed boat well fitted up for family accommodation. We had our slaves on the boat with us, 8 in number, and our family consisted of four boys and five girls. I must state that I met the family at Plaquemine on the flat boat. The boat was on the town side. I remained behind with Eugene, our oldest Negro boy, then 16 years old, and met the family at Plaquemine.

We boasted a good deal then of our close relationship to the family of Zenon LaBauve, residing in Plaquemine and at the zenith of his career as a lawyer of national renown, who, latterly was to become Judge Associate of the Supreme Court of Louisiana.

My father, as is often the case in our sojourn through life, was not content with the monotonous life of the humble plodder of this life and he extended his visions in the past infinite that separated his family from the great State of Texas; therefore, in August 1858, we winded our way to New Iberia, then a small hamlet, took passage on the steam boat "S.M. Darby", and landed at Morgan City, just twelve hours before the steam ship "Orizaba" steamed for Indianola, Texas. Our family took passage aboard her, and twenty-four hours later, we were at Indianola, Texas. Here father put me, and Shelby, one of our Negro boys, in charge of his buggy. We traveled all day and stopped for the night in Port Lavaca, on Lavaca Bay. The next morning, we started off again to go join our family, who had taken passage on Peter Omelio’s sailboat for Texana, the county seat of Jackson County. Before getting out of Port Lavaca, we stuck in a hole right in the middle of the street and broke the shafts of our vehicle. We, with some outside help, got the conveyance out of the mud hole, and we rode all that bareback on our mule towards Texana.

At dusk we crossed Dry Creek, about one mile from Texana, and in full view of the town. We had left our buggy in Port Lavaca for repairs. At our arrival in Texana, the curious gaze of the people was upon us. Nobility is only in the human heart; there is the place for true nobility. Royalty and nobility of title are now tottering and the universe is asking in a tone not to be mistaken for a wider scope of freedom, for pure democracy. It is true that the United States Republic was founded on broad principles; but it can be perfected considerably. It has been drifting, since the establishment of big trusts, toward capitalism, and class legislation, and it will take very serious measures to bring peace. There is wide spread discontent among the working class, such as had never been known, before the advent of trusts.

Indians: What do I know about Indians? I remember well, when the Choctaw Indians lived back of Baton Rouge, at a place called Texas. Why do I know? The men would hunt in the back woods, and the women would sell baskets weaved by themselves, in exchange for sweet potatoes; the little boys would make blow guns from cane reeds and they would sell them for five cents apiece. They must have been blanket Indians, for the women and girls were wrapped up in blankets. They did not appear to feel the cold from the winter. They would build their wigwams in the thick part of the canebrake. We boys would visit their camp and took hunting birds with blowguns, after their fashion. They must have moved away whilst I was still young, for all at once, the whole tribe disappeared, and I never saw them afterwards. I have failed to state that I was born on the 20th day of January, 1840, which makes my age 73 years and 11 months and 2 days, and which would give 14 years of age when we left our native place to take our place among the rovers of this globe.

At the age of 15, I was out on a farm with all of my father’s family and our slaves. I worked hard along side of our slaves on a farm rented from the heirs of, and the representatives of, Drozin Judice. The land where I worked, and where the family resided, was called by name "L’anse des Judices". Here, we raised a big crop of corn and sweet potatoes. After raising one crop on that place, father, who was on very good terms with the Peeples family, was offered, by Henry Peeples, a large farm situated on Spanish Lake, about three miles from New Iberia, on the Lafayette road, free of rent, whither we moved the winter of 1855, and prepared to plant a big crop of cotton, corn and potatoes. I must say that this place approached nearer to fiction and romance than any place I had ever visited; all the wild fancies of thought found here, free access. The babbling rill, becs a l’ancette, the wild ducks, the turkey buzzard, all seemed to have united there, a fit abode for all of them, without calling into account hundreds of alligators of all size and length.

As for the finney tribe, suffice it to say that a variety of the most attractive and palatable sported in the limpid water of Spanish Lake. In winter it was the sportsman paradise. Thousands of ducks made this their resting place during the fall and winter months, while transforming that vicinity into a huntsman paradise equal to none. The myriads of voices mingling together on the vast sheet of water that composed the body of Spanish Lake-I mean the voices of wild ducks of all sizes and structures of those feathered tribe made a strange amalgamation or mixture of tones; for here on the bosom of the lake floated that vast raft of aquatic bird, seemingly content with themselves. Here, at a distance from the shore of the lake, inaccessible to hunters, on account of distance, they rested at perfect ease, each quacking when his turn appeared to have arrived.

Well do I remember that my father would board his little push canoe, put his dog in the far end, and push off for a hunt, in the tall grass surrounding the lake, North, East and South, and on his return home, he would always be well paid for his day’s hunt, by a heavy load of plump ducks, all green heads and black ducks, and often, Sacelles, a small duck of the size of a young spring chicken.

I want to write a concise narrative and simple statement of events as they come to mind and my statement will be incomplete without mentioning several facts connected with my narrative of events the way they occurred then. I failed to state that when my father’s family located on Spanish Lake, it had walked into a regular Spanish Colony. Those we met were the direct descendants of a colony that had migrated to America in early days, and had settled in a zone comprising New Iberia, Spanish Lake and Petite Anse. It is not to be wondered at that we became acquainted with the Segura’s, the Domingue’s, the Romero’s, the Victor’s, the Migues’, and other families bearing the ancient names of Andalusia and Estremaduro. I must state that I have read an account of the transmigration of these people. They are said to be direct from a colony that sailed to this continent from the island of Majorca, a dependency of Spain, but, of course, the name borne by the families are to be found in Spain and in Mexico. Whilst in this section, I bought, at the Montagne store in New Iberia, the novel "Count of Monte Cristo", and I was, in my mind, transported to Catlonis, the province where Mercedes, the heroine of the plot, was born and reared. I found a Mercedes here, and found Dangler, Count de Moncerf. I played the role of Edmond Dantes in miniature. Here was enacted a portion of the comedy depicted by Alexandre Dumas in the "Count of Monte Cristo". The jealousy described in that novel was vividly re-produced by a certain swain; and he succeeded in gaining his Mercedes, as Dangler did in Monte Cristo, but his story has not the same dramatic close, for both Dangler and Mercedes, here both ended their career without any hitch; as often, in late years, I passed by the Iberia Church Yard, on the train or on foot, I noticed among the monuments erected to the memory of the death, within the precinct of this sacred ground, one to the memory of the once regretted Mercedes, figuratively. Here she lies amongst her kindred, awaiting the resurrection of the flesh.

I must state here that in the year 1856, whilst we were at the lake, on the 10th day of August, happened a storm that submerged Lost Island, and where over three hundred persons were engulfed into a watery grave, including one of my woman cousins, by name, Althie LaBauve. This storm raged nearly three days and completely devastated our crop of cotton and corn. In 1857, we raised another crop of cotton and corn and were very fortunate. We also raised a good number of hogs, which papa sold for a good, round sum, in New Orleans. It was this year that my uncle, Victor LaBauve, and father, agreed to move to the State of Texas, father to take the lead. Both my uncle and my father took the trip of inspection to Texas in the winter of 1857. Landing at Indianola, they visited Calhoun, Jackson, Fort Bend, Brazoria, Houston, and embarked, with their ponies, at Galveston, on their way back home. The way was paved for our emigration to Texas.

In the month of August 1858, we embarked on the steamer "Darby" at Iberia, as I stated before, for the famed State of Texas. Texas was a slave state, and, as my father moved over before the emancipation of Negroes, our Negroes were slaves; so it was easy enough for my father to earn a good living by renting land ready fenced in. After spending 24 hours at Indianola, as I stated before, the family sailed to Texana, the County seat of Jackson County. For a while, the family occupied the old tavern, a log house structure near the place called the Plaza, or center of the town of Texana. I had forgotten to state that Texana was located at the head navigation of the Navidad River, a river which forms a junction with the Lavaca River, below Texana, about three miles from town, therefore, all boats of light draft could come up to that place, and did so, even steam ships.

I was then 18 years of age and commenced thinking about improving my mind by attending school under good tutorship. One teacher by the name of Kindrick and the other by the name of Dulin from the State of Ohio. I was said to be an apt learner, and therefore progressed pretty fast. I became acquainted with many new principles, till then unknown to me, in sciences. About this time I became a member of a debating society and it’s vice-president. I talked pretty well, and I also joined Branch 36, Sons of Temperance.

Everything seemed to be smiling, and I thought, indeed, that I was on the road to distinction, when, all at once, the muttering of discordant sounds brought to our ears that, in Kansas, the warring elements were at work. The disruption of the Union appeared imminent. There the people were divided into two camps, one composed of free-soilers and the other of slave-owners. They were pretty well divided, too. Each adopted its separate Constitution, as representatives of their views. About this time flourished a certain figure by the name of John Brown, who, as a free-soiler, with a little over a dozen men, invaded Harper’s Ferry Arsenal, and James Lane, besides John Brown, was another conspicuous figure in the border warfare. The State of Kansas was about being brought into the folds of the Union. The free-soilers and the slave holding elements were pretty well divided up, equally. There were wild elements on both sides of the issue. The southerners were working for slavery and the free-soilers for freedom. One side was applying for admittance in the galaxy of states as a slave holding state, whilst the free-soilers wanted a free state, where slavery should not exist. Thus matter stood. I am of the opinion that the warring elements adopted each a separate State Constitution. The slaveholders adopted the Leavenworth Constitution and the free-soilers that of Lecompte, thus the U. S. Government was brought face to face with this dilemma.

The above statement is erroneous. Hawthorns history of the United States says that Missouri, a slave state, bordered upon Kansas and the South had a chance there, and that roving about the borders were numbers of rough characters with a whiskey bottle in one pocket and a revolver in the other, who were ripe for any enterprise. It is said That Chief Justice Lecompte decided all questions in favor of the Southerners, and that the Legislature met at Shawnee, instead of at Pawnee, as the Governor had directed, and the territorial governor was recalled by President F. Pierce. The free-soilers met at Lawrence, repudiated the Shawnee mission assembly and it’s work, and summoned two other conventions at Big Spring and, finally, at Topeka. And, after much bloodshed, the State was admitted as a free-soil State.

I have forgotten to state that my children are named Gabriel, Gilbert, Isidor, Raphael, Lucia, Fernand and Adonia, who, being insane, is at the Pineville Asylum. Lucia is married to B. Bernard and has no children. Gilbert is not married. All the rest are married and have children, or offspring. Gabriel has 3, Isidor 2, Raphael 3, and Fernand 3. Lucia has no children.

I am determined to work for this firm, as their representative here. It looks like money in it. I have come to find out that without money, a person is not shown much friendship or distinction amongst the living. So, money is the go: politics, religion, social intercourse, all is reckoned by the almighty dollar. Let us then work for it. It is a god on earth. I know ignorant persons of Abbeville, La., who are very ignorant, but their ignorance is not a bar to their distinction amongst the population of elite. They are always candidates to offices of trust and of pay, and they get there when they ask for any position in the gift of the good people of the place. Zenon Lejeune was here today, only about a half hour, he having come from Gueydan by train 9 o’clock a.m. Zenon Lejeune is married to my first cousin, by name, Regina LaBauve, daughter of Jean Baptiste LaBauve.

I forgot to state that my father was married 3 times, 1st wife was a Dupuy, the second was Josephine Chiasson, 1st cousin to my mother, and the 3rd Marcelite Hebert, my mother.

I forgot to state that Fernand is the father of a boy, now three weeks old. He is to be named Fernand.

I wrote the following note: I enclose clippings of the set of resolutions, adopted by our camp #607, expressive of the feelings of regret of our camp on the passing away of our comrade, your father, Joseph T. Labit, from this earth. Please allow me to state that your father’s standing with us old veterans of the Civil War was above reproach. We had reason to admire his many sterling qualities, as man and as comrade, and we mourn with you the loss, and I will say here that you, his children, should be thankful to be the representatives, and the scions, of a father who has filled so well, to its fullest extent, the requirements of this life. Hoping that these feeble tributes may be a comfort to you, his children. I remain, respectfully, your humble servant. Fernand LaBauve, my son, was here today, and his two little daughters, Madge and Juanita, were here. They had driven in their buggy.

Ralph and I took a toddy together at Algiers Saloon. Anatole Perret, my brother in law, brought a bag of shucks for cow & calf. Adonia, my last daughter, and the youngest child of the family, has been an inmate of the Pineville Asylum for the Insane since July 1910, or about that time. I have but very little news of her. She is, apparently, dead to me and to the family. As soon as practicable, I shall certainly go and see her. I am sure she is better off there than she would be here. Everything is given her there free and without any price. It would not be the case here. Her mind would be crowded with the thoughts of providing for her subsistence. The only difference is that she is away from her relatives.

Marriages of my children; Gabriel is married to Emilie Suir, daughter of Anilse Suir, Isidor is married to Emma Breaux, daughter of Emile Breaux and Josephine Sigur, Lucia is married to Ben Bernard, son of Jules Bernard, dead. Fernand is married to Aureline LaBauve, daughter of Theodore LaBauve. Gilbert and Adonia are not married. Mabel and Courtney, Gabriel’s children, are attending school regularly, and they are learning very fast. Mabel reads like a parrot, as well as anybody, in high books. Those are smart children, sure. Now, next year Ida, the youngest of Gabi’s children, will commence school. She will be of school age.

I do not know what this day will bring. I am not reckoned a back number in school matters. I have quit teaching school by force. I have been left out by superintendent St. Williams. I am glad of it, as I have become more independent. Teaching is akin to slavery. My health has improved considerably, since I was turned out by the superintendent.

I have a scheme to make money. I will soon start same. All I have to do is to pay $4.50 for an outfit to start with. I guess I shall have to command about $50.00 in order to run the business. I can have the money. I have the money made. I may be able to help others. If possible, I certainly do it. There are some around me, close to me, who need assistance. I have, thus far in life, been able to provide for myself, and to help others, to a certain extent. I expect to include with my journal "The Linville Massacre", which I wrote about some years ago. The facts of the narrative was told me by one of my fellow school mates in Jackson County, Texas, whilst I was at school at Texana, Texas. This fellow scholar was named William Coleman, a pretty smart young man, and a better-disposed boy than myself, and I judged, purer in thought. I may be mistaken, though, for appearances are deceiving, sometimes. In my case, I am always ready to condemn myself for all the shortcomings of my youth, and of my life in general, up to the present time.

On the 8th of January, 1815, the Battle of New Orleans between the American forces under Gen. Andrew Jackson, and the British forces, under Gen. Packinham, now Chalmette, below New Orleans, a short distance from the American refinery. My Grandfather, Isidor LaBauve, was present there on that ever-memorable occasion. My father, Dominique LaBauve, was then 15 years of age, and he was placed in the Home Guard, an organization, whose business was to remain home, for the purpose of protecting the families of those who were called to the front in defense of the Country. The Battle of New Orleans was the most memorable battle of the War of 1812 & 15, the British being worsted, having nearly 3,000 dead on the field. Anyone going to New Orleans ought to visit the battlefield of Chalmette, which can easily be reached from streetcars, direct. The 8th of January 1913 will soon be on hand and the N.O. press will teem with a recital of those events characteristic of that eventful day.

Gilbert L., Jr. comes here every morning to make his coffee and drink. I generally drink one cup of coffee of his, after he is through. Emilie Suir, Gabi’s wife, brings me my coffee to my bed and I drink the first coffee in bed. She likes to do that. She makes the coffee, or, in other words, drips it nearly every morning and takes it around, 1st to Gabi, then to me, and then to the children. She has three children, Mabel, Courtney and Ida. Mabel is 12 years old, Courtney 9, and Ida 5. Mabel and Courtney are now 9 o’clock a.m. at the Catholic Church, attending service.

I had forgotten to mention that Indianola, when we went to Texas, was the town where the Vanderbilt Line of steamships anchored. Indianola was then a thriving place on Matagorda Bay. It was built of timbers from houses. It was a very busy place. On the West was an immense country. North, about 12 miles on Lavaca Bay, was Port Lavaca, also a fine little town built on higher ground than Indianola. It was too high to be affected by the water rise, as was the case with Indianola. It was too high to be affected by the rise of water during a storm, which often pervades here at certain seasons of the year.

Port Lavaca was the scene of a bombardment from a flotilla of Yankee gunboats in the fall of 1862, during the Civil War. Company "A", Hobby’s Regt. Was at Port Lavaca then, defending the place with cannon. Vernon was Captain of Co. "A" then. He afterwards became Major of our Regiment, 8th Texas Infantry. Texana was the County seat of Jackson County then. Now, it is Edna.

The Lavaca River has the reputation of being the river where LaSalle landed on his voyage of discovery. There is a place called LaSalle on that river.

In the fall of 1860, my parrain (Godfather) and cousin, Vilias Landry, paid us a visit. The family was then occupying a place called Egypt, 3 miles below Texana, at the junction of the Lavaca and the Navidad rivers. I was pretty well advanced then, and agreed to go to Bayou Lafourche, teach school; we embarked on Dupri LaBauve’s boat, the "Fanny Fern", a schooner, and we landed at Indianola, and the next morning embarked on the steamship "Matagorda", bound for Morgan City, Louisiana. We made the trip in 48 hours, with a rough sea. I was seasick all the form the time we got in the open gulf till we reached the Atchafalaya River, La. As we arrived at Morgan City, early in the day, we found parties that were going to Pierre Part Bayou and we took passage with them, getting before sun set, Assumption Parish.

The next day I went with my parrain and after standing an examination, I was granted a certificate of qualification and was assigned to teach the Brusly St. Martin School. I was then 20 years old. In 1861 war was declared and the 1st gun of the war was fired at Fort Sumpter, South Carolina. In quick succession happened the battles of Manassas and other noted battles. I was then made Captain of an Infantry Company of Militia and attended on Bayou Lafourche in Hernandez pasture a general muster of all the Assumption Companies under the command of Colonel Pugh, of Napoleonville. About this time there were companies organizing everywhere, and young men flocked to be enrolled and sworn in to go to the camp of instruction, Camp Moor, ready for the seat of war. Captain Larre Nichols and his brother, Francois T. Nichols, were drilling their men at Napoleonville and at Donaldsonville; finally, when ready, they went to the seat of war and took part in the battle of Manassas and remained in Virginia till the end of the war. Larre Nichols was killed in battle and Francois T. Nichols lost one leg, one arm and one eye.

Eventually, in 1862, New Orleans fell into the hands of the Federals, and Gen. Banks took command of the city. Soon after it’s fall, my parrain called on me and made me agree to go back to Texas to my family. So we started in a large dug out manned by the Crochet boys and down Pierre Part, across Lake Verret, down Belle Boviere, across Lake Platte and into the Atchafalaya past Ile Au Cypress. We arrived at Morgan City a little after daybreak. The Ports were blockaded by Federal Gunboats, so we looked around for a conveyance to New Iberia. Fortunately there was thus tied up and making steam, a flat-bottomed propeller called the "Southern Merchant", aboard of which Vilcor Landry and I took passage. Edouard Landry, Vilcor’s brother, had gone down Bayou Lafourche on horse back, and it happened that he met us here after coming on a train from Bayou Lafourche or riding, I have now forgotten exactly how. We then made for Franklin on his horse. Our boat arrived at New Iberia the next day. I have quite forgotten how we managed it, but we went from New Iberia to Fausse Pointe, to uncle Hebert’s, where we were well received and here my partners bought a horse and an old barouche of 4 seats and in a few days we were on our way to Texas, overland in our barouche and two horses. Those were the days of extensive prairies. There was no railroad communication, as we have today. The first day of our travel brought us to Bayou Blanc, at Courville’s, the next to Dugas, next to a place way beyond Grand Marais, and the next to Clandening’s, on the Calcasieu and the next to Niblet’s Bluff on the Sabine River. Here we found a steamer ready to haul in her stage plank for Beaumont on the Neches River, Texas. On her we took passage all, horse, carriage and men. We went down the Sabine River and up the Neches River to Beaumont, where we arrived safe and sound.

The next day, we concluded that we would take passage on the "Beaumont & Western Line" road, so the horses, the carriage and the men embarked aboard of the train flat car for carriages, box car for the horses and we took passage in the coaches. That was slow traveling. We arrived at midnight in Houston, our point of destination. Disembarking in Houston, we crowded up in a kind of garret, as hot as an oven and the next morning we were again on our way to my home. We drove to Richmond on the Brazos River this day, stayed all night here and the next morning hitched again and traveled due West towards Jackson County. I believe that we slept the next night at Capt. Heard’s, on the Colorado River, and the next day we arrived on Mustang Creek, about 20 miles from home, and the last day was our arrival at Texana, where we found my family awaiting, for our arrival had been heralded by the postman. We had quite an ovation in the bottom before arriving home, along the public thoroughfares. It appeared as though all the young folks of the town had come to meet us on the way, about ½ mile from the town.

Here we stayed till fall, going and coming from East Carancahua, where our hands were working, and where Eugene (now a man) was splitting rails to fence in a field. It was whilst we were going and coming from East Carancahua that my mother was attacked by a disease of the bowels named "flux", and in the course of six weeks or so, she died. At the same time Vilcor Landry (my god father) was taken sick also, but recovered. The War was then fairly on. Volunteer companies had gone to the front. Many had been killed and it became a question to commence thinking what could be done. The two brothers Landry concluded that the most plausible plan was to decide in favor of quitting Texas, and moving to Mexico, so, about one week after mother’s death, they developed their plan to me and asked me to follow them to that country. I declined to do so, and they started with the same horses that had taken us to Texas, and wended their way toward that country. About a month or so after their departure, Dupri LaBauve and I joined the Army at Port Lavaca, enrolling in Capt. Vernon’s Company of Heavy Artillery. Thus, I was to serve under the Confederate Flag till the end of the Civil War, which happened to close April or May 1865. I was discharged at a little town called Alleyton, north of Eagle Lake, Texas, but my discharge is dated Columbus, Texas, a town on the Colorado River about one or two miles west of Alleyton.

It was a long time after the close of the war before I heard anything about the Landry brothers. Finally, my parrain returned and worked at Emile Gassie’s, Josephine’s husband. My oldest sister, who, after spending 10 years in Jackson County, Texas, returned to West Baton Rouge, and married Emile Gassie, one of my infancy friends.

Isidor, my oldest brother, was never married, Edgard, the next was drowned in the Mississippi River at Brusly Landing. I was married in September 1872 to Ida, the oldest daughter of Zenon Perret. Gabriel, my oldest boy, is married to Emelie Suir and has three children, Mabel, Courtney and Ida. Next one, Gilbert, is not married. Isidor is married to Emma Breaux and has two children, Myrth and Hilton. Raphael is married to Irene Eisele of Franklin, La. And has 3 children, Irene, Eloise and Lucille. Fernand is married to Aurelene LaBauve of St. Mary Parish and has 3 children, Madge, Juanita and Fernand Jr. Lucia is married to Ben Bernard and has no children. Adonia, the youngest child, has been insane now going on four years and is at the Pineville Asylum for the insane. My next sister, Lizama, was married in Texas after the war was over to W. Stayton, of Carancahua, Jackson County, and, after Stayton’s death, she was married to John Logan, also of the same place. Adonia, my next sister married Robert Fleury of West Carancahua, Jackson County, Texas, and has left several children, at her death this year of cancer. Ordalie, who left Texas soon after Josephine died, married Numa Landry and left one boy and two daughters. She is dead too. Thilesmar, the next one of the family, was married in Jackson County, Texas, moved to Fort Worth, Tex., died there and left one boy. Aristide, the next died unmarried at the age of 15. Lucia (Ulyssia) the youngest of the family, married Valcourt LaBauve, her cousin, both are alive. They have daughters Edna, Elina and one boy.

Leo LaBauve was here today. He had come with Gabi. He is coming again next week to make his application for relief as a Choctaw-Chickasaw descendant. He is the son of Theogene LaBauve, cousin of the Thibodeaux’ of Prairie Grigg and Landry of Grosse Ile. The Landry brothers then, did not serve in the Confederate Army. Eduard, one of them, worked in a silver mine. My God father was, a good portion of the time, on a large country farm belonging to a rich family in Mexico, with whom he resided, whilst there.

I did service whilst in the Army in the Artillery, the Infantry, and the Navy. I was in the Navy in February, when my father died (1864). I got an unlimited furlough home, and after spending about two weeks at home, I returned to my command in Galveston, Texas, where I soldiered the rest of the War with my Company. I was quartered during the summer of 1864 at redoubt no.7, nearly opposite the Galveston Bridge. We then moved to Galveston and my Regiment did duty there, till the end of the war, when we were ordered to Virginia Point, where we stayed till ordered to Alleyton, above Eagle Lake and there discharged.

Fernand came here today. He is teaching the Comeaux School, Prarrie Grigg, and resides with his family at Erath, La. I believe I have stated that it was in the year 1858 that my family moved to Texas, several months before my uncle Victor LaBauve’s family moved out in the fall of the same year, and moved into the Roger’s house, near Texana, and father’s family moved out on the William Gayles farm on the Lavaca River, about three miles west of Texana. This was a cotton farm and father, with his and uncle’s hands, set in a crop of cotton and corn, but as often happens in that particular climate of alternate drought and fair weather, it being a very dry summer, our corn crop was a failure, and in the fall a big rise in the Lavaca River over flowed our cotton crop and it was a failure, too. The next year father moved to Egypt, a place already described and made a good crop, those of cotton, corn and potatoes. This farm belonged to Dr. Hills. Here we had a good lodging house, and out houses for the Negroes. This same year uncle Victor had rented the William Gayles farm and his family occupied that house we had occupied the previous year. His venture this year was a success. He bought the schooner "Fanny Fern" that fall for $450, and Dupri LaBauve, his son, then 19 years old, and Francois, my uncle’s Negro man, commenced making regular trips to Port Lavaca and Indianola, taking wood and passengers. The schooner carried about 5 cords of wood per load. About this time, my uncle bought the Moor tract of land on the East Carancahua and would carry on the wood trade, from that tract. This tract was all wooded. There was about 600 acres of noi (sic) land. All but an inside prairie containing about 75 acres was wood. Uncle Victor LaBauve had sold about 200 acres of the tract to father, who was to have paid him later, but when father died in February, 1864, the place was still unpaid for, and returned to uncle Victor.

I was serving in the Confederate Army when father died. I was stationed at Matagorda, as a marine on gun boat "John F. Carr", in Confederate service. After my return to Texas, with the Landry brothers, we busied our time taking trips to East Carancahua from Texana, having a good time, free and happy, as could be. We would hunt wild hogs on that creek. The first summer that I was in Texas we organized a deer hunt one day, with Fred Armstrong as our head leader and hunter. He was the only one that carried a rifle, all rest rode. The hunting party was composed of Henry Simons, George Flayer, Fred Armstrong and myself. We directed our course east, crossing the bottom on the east side of the Navidad River and coursing on the open prairie, traveled about 5 miles south east, when all at once, we spied a herd of about 10 deer. Circling around them so as have the herd between us and the wind, Fred passed the reins of his horses bridle over the horses head and gave the reins to Henry Simons to hold, and Fred dropped to the ground into the tall grass and we kept on circling around the deer until we were between the wind and them. As soon as the deer scented us they took the opposite direction, towards Fred Armstrong, who was waiting for them, flat on his belly, in the tall grass. As soon as the herd arrived at shooting distance from him, he selected a plump fat buck and after taking accurate aim he touched his rifle’s trigger and a sharp report was heard, the buck aimed at made a jump in the air and fell, dead. All we had to do was to bleed him, take out his entrails and hang him up on the limb of a sapling near a running brook not far away from the place the deer was shot. We remained at that brook a while and then circled around, but, unfortunately, we were not as fortunate as, at first. Perhaps our first shot had scared any deer that might be in hearing, or we were not as lucky as we had been at first. Anyhow, be it as it may, we returned to Texana with one deer only, as a trophy. This Fred Armstrong was reputed to be the most accurate shot of Texana. So accurate was he that one dismal winter day as he strolled through the leafless bottom near, and east of Texana, he heard what sounded like the voice of a wild turkey hen. He gradually advanced until these stood between him and the – what appeared to be a turkey. A patch of black berry thorns, very thick and denuded, as he advanced on one side, the voice, apparently of a turkey on the other side, would answer his call on this side, finally he got to the berry patch and, looking through the dry denuded stems of the briar patch, he could distinguish what appeared to be the gray plumage of a turkey hen. He took deliberate aim at the object, for fear of being detected and fired. What was his surprise, when, instead of a turkey, there jumped up one of his friends, a young man from town, who had been out hunting, like him, and, who probably was getting ready to shoot at him where he was fired at from the opposite side if the briar patch. I believe his name was Tom Hollis. The boy died almost instantly, after being shot. All this happened a while before we moved to Texas. Vast herds of deer roamed at large on the prairie between the Navidad River and West Carancahua Creek. The prairie was miles wide, without any timber, between the two streams.

December 25, 1913 I may as well say I am sometimes of the opinion that I have a disease of the left kidney, as I feel dull pain in that region of the body. Otherwise, I am in better health than I was when I was teaching school. I believe that my suppression of teaching is a blessing in disguise to me. I am better satisfied now, and I have formulated a plan to always keep in money, by a certain agency from Boston. I am also Notary Public, do some work and make money in that line. I also work a little as assistant to those who desire to apply for Confederate pensions. I am also working with Gabi to do the writing for application for claims of the descendants of the Choctaw-Chickasaw Indians. I am also a Confederate pensioner, drawing $17 every quarter from Baton Rouge. I have been informed that in 1914 our allowance would increased 25%, or be made $21.50.

Myrtle, my grand daughter, and my sister in law Alice Perret (Sigur), each sent me a Christmas postal card, which I received yesterday, with pleasure. We had a quiet dinner at home. Chicken gumbo, roasted chicken, fricasseed chicken, rice, Irish potato salad and wine- enough for a decent family.

The 20th of next month I shall be 74 years old. That is indeed old age, or in other words, advanced age. There are not many in this neighborhood on in this Parish who have attained that age. If the State of Louisiana wants to thank her Confederate veterans by an advance in the pension she allows them, do it before they have died. Now is the time to do it, not next year or year after that. I see that they are dropping off one by one around me. Why wait to allow what is coming them by right? Our next Legislature ought to see to it that they be allowed more than is paid them now. President Wilson, his wife and his two daughters arrived at Pass Christian, yesterday morning to make a stay of three weeks.

Anatole Perret, my brother in law, who has been residing at Raphael’s at least 9 months, slept here last night and night before last. Ralph, his wife & children, and Mrs. Isle are at Franklin, St. Mary Parish during Christmas, and Anatole sleeps here during their absence from home. Gilbert was here this morning, making and drinking coffee. Mabel, who was at the exhibition of the tightrope walker at the Victor Hall, was elated with it. She thought it to be a great feat.

January 2, 1914 Yesterday, I did not keep a record of events. It was the long look for the 1st of January 1914. Many years have elapsed since I remember greeting that memorable day. I bring to mind the morning when, in slavery times, long before the Confederate War, the Negroes and old Negro women, went around from one place to another, wishing New Year, and asking for etrennes (sic). This took place in West Baton Rouge, the place of my nativity. Up to the age of 14, when the family left, as I have already stated, on a flat boat to move over to St. Martin Parish. I thought West Baton Rouge and the Mississippi River were the only place on earth and, it was with sadness that I left Brusly Landing, which, at the time we moved, was, indeed, a great and progressive place. We had very good schools established in every available point. Latin, Greek, geometry, algebra and all the high branches of learning were taught in the Parish schools. Fernand, Aureline and the children were at Abbeville, yesterday. They drove down in their buggy. Fernand and his two little girls were here, but Aureline did not come. She passed the day at Lucia’s.

Tuesday, January 20, 1914 Today I am exactly 74 years old, since last night at exactly 12 o’clock, or midnight. I knew of one person, a girl cousin of mine, who was born exactly the same hour and day with me. Her name was Arthemise LaBauve, daughter of uncle Pierre LaBauve, of Back Brusly. She married Edward Hebert, a first cousin of mine, and, they are both dead. Aureline and her children slept here last night. Fernand slept at Ralph’s, and Alice at Lucia’s. They had a soiree at Ed Lampman’s. Alice went.

Lucia was here yesterday. She paid half and we drank beer. I paid the other half. Gabi’s wife is of a very quarrelsome nature. This property here is mine, still I am at home like a stranger. I have a mind to sell all my property, put the money securely in a bank or in my pocket and go to a Soldier’s Home in New Orleans or in Austin, Texas, where I will have good care and no worry. A sickness like the disease called cerebral spinal meningitis is raging in Abbeville, in certain families. The two twins of Dr. Elridge died last week, people say, of an unknown disease to physicians, by the same said to be the aforementioned disease. Ida was out early today to look at the snow, so also was Mabel and Courtney. It was a new scene for them. Ida was trying to eat it with a small teaspoon. The milk cow and my mare appeared amazed at the sight of snow this morning.

Freedom is the greatest blessing human nature ought to ask and require. The time of autocracy has passed. Jefferson enunciated and published to the world the celebrated Declaration of Independence since proclaiming that all men are born free. He makes no exceptions. In mixed anarchy, confusion and war still exist. The British Government through her accredited agents is trying to force the United States hand to interfere, but this is a subterfuge of perfidious albion (sic) to have her subjects mines (sic) protected. President Wilson sees through that scheme. The Socialistic influence is holding back Pres. Wilson’s hand in the interference business. So, the socialists are gaining ground every day. It is self evident that all men are created equal. There should be no privileged class or classes. That is the foundation of the Great American Republic, which now dominates the whole world sending its influence of freedom to the confines of the earth. Until our Republic was founded, the ignorant class thought that there were classes. Man is clamoring for more liberty. Our government did very well for ancient times and ancient customs and it had to bend considerably to the whims of European potentates who were acting as having been commissioned by a Devine and invisible right to govern the ignorant peasantry. But after the 13 American Colonies had had the hardihood to pledge their fortunes to uphold the doctrine that all men are created equal and independent. Then, and only then, the common people awakened to the great truth that kings were only men like themselves, only more corrupted, more immoral. It can well be imagined that the church, then weak and in it’s infancy, bowed to the decree of monarchs and proclaimed them, as of Devine nature.

Received this morning the obituary of Emile Gassie, husband of Josephine LaBauve, my sister. He died Friday, the 13th of March 1914, at his residence above Brusly Landing, West Baton Rouge Parish Louisiana. I am thinking of the tin cup of coffee I drank in Texas, on the broad prairie between Texana and Victoria, one summer morning at early dawn. I had slept on the prairie and, at dawn, I arose and drove on towards Victoria, meeting two Negroes who were dripping coffee. I alighted and asked to partake of their coffee and they assented and gave me the coffee in a tin cup, sweetened with molasses.

Monday, June 22, 1914 The revolution in Mexico, which has been going on for several years, still continues. Our President, Woodrow Wilson, is keeping up the policy of watchful waiting for peace and stability in Mexico, wishing to give the people of that country a government of the people and by the people. Huerta is their dictator today, having usurped the government nearly a year ago. I Am thinking, now of Alice Sigur. I think of her often, also of Fedora Desonmeaux. Both are married and are raising each a family. All for the lust, that I did not pass my seed with either of them. I was sincere, but I had to reflect too much, to walk into marriage, again. My experience forbade me from marrying again.

Monday, June 29, 1914 I have been studying, not surprisingly, of ultimately going to the Soldier’s Home in New Orleans. I may have to take that move. It looks as though there is nothing in store for me. I guess the inmates of the home have privileges not known to us.

July 1, 1914 War is still raging in Mexico. The Wilson administration is opposed to intervention of the United States in settling the affairs of Mexico. The Socialists are much opposed to war in any way, shape or manner. It is preaching peace Universal. If the United States Government has not yet interfered into the revolution now raging in Mexico, it is due to the influence of the Socialist Party, of this there is no doubt. We are today the 4th of July. Just 138 years ago the Declaration of Independence of the 13 American Colonies was signed in Philadelphia, Pa., by the delegated of the 13 American Colonies, assembled there for that purpose.

Friday, August 7, 1914 This week the newspapers report that; Great Britain has declared war against Germany, Germany against France and Belgium against Austria Hungary. War is reported to be nearly over in Mexico. I became acquainted with Albert Lauve at Paincourtville, Assumption Parish La. in the year 1860. He was a lawyer, and had a military education. I had occasion, at the residence of Dupuy, in Jackson Co., Tex. near the Navidad River, to speak to Miss Dupuy there, who afterwards became the wife of Tom Brackenridge, about Albert Lauve and Major Avigno, of New Orleans, killed in Virginia during the Civil War. She told me that Albert Lauve and Avigno were smart enough to graduate at the Military School of Lexington, Kentucky, of which they were alumni, but that the faculty would not issue them their graduating papers, and, that it crested quite a row there, at the time. Bat Dupuy was also a student at that school and was well advanced, but he did not graduate either. Bat was a brother of Miss Dupuy, a neice of Dupuy who had moved to Jackson Co. long before we moved out there, and, who owns a large stock of cattle and horses, which he, I believe, sold to Dutart. There were very small boys in Texana, also men. The country then was full of wolves or coyotes and wild turkeys. As for prairie chickens, they were everywhere to be seen flying in big bunches. Whilst I am writing about Texas, I might as well state that the population of Jackson Co. was comprised, par excellence, of choice people. The Owens, the Wells, the Billups, the Dutart, the McDowell’s, the Gayle’s, the Whites, the Menefee’s, the Dodd’s, the Stanton’s, Armstrong’s, the Logan’s, the Sellers, the Brackenridge’s, the Sandford’s, the Coleman’s, the Flournoy’s, the Woolfolk’s, the Randolph’s, and many others were of choice families of the old States. Texas was a State of promise before the war. Col. Owen had a stock of 15,000 cattle and branded 5,000 calves. It was a large stock raising country. There were no paupers there. All were well to do. Dupri LaBauve, my 1st cousin, married Emily Garret, of Lavaca River. She has been dead a good while. I remember an account of a preacher who spent one night on the Texas prairie of Jackson Co., Tex. And pictured it as an awful night. I passed one summer night at about the same spot he describes, so vehemently, and with so much emphasis as to scare the life out of the innocent reader. I was not afraid a bit that whilst the night was made hideous by the howling of the wolves all around the spot I was occupying, because I knew there was no danger at all. I had some chunks of meat in a bag and their smell attracted these marauders, and also a lot of ants. I paid no attention to the wolves only the ants woke me up.

Monday, August 10, 1914 Today, 58 years ago, I was at Spanish Lake, Iberia Parish, and it is the 59th anniversary of the storm, which submerged Lost Island, and all the lower coast of Louisiana. It is a sad reminder of that great calamity. By reading the item of New Orleans, I see that there were missing, killed, wounded and taken prisoners 25,000 German soldiers and officers at the assault on Liege, Belgium 3 days ago.

Tuesday, August 11, 1914 I read the item today. It relates that an army of invasion of 800,000 Germans is about to invade France. I cannot understand how an army of invasion could reduce France today, the object of which would be to make France a monarchy again, in spite of the movement of the Socialists of Europe, who are not monarchists, but on the contrary, are for universal liberty. I am constrained to think that William, Emperor of Germany, will have to save his life by flight before the end of the war, and that Prussia will be countered with a Republic, as well as Austria and that both regime houses will crumble to the dust and their potentates will flee for their lives, on foreign soil. I am firmly of the opinion that the Emperor of Germany will have to flee from Berlin before the end of the present war. There will be established Republican forms of government in Belgium, Austro Hungary and Germany at the treaty of peace of those countries, and they will be partitioned from getting the lion share of the spoils. The Socialists are playing a big hand in the European War. They will see that the poor workingman shall be recognized at the hour of reckoning. It would be frightful if the U.S. were to take a part in the European War now going. I am of the opinion that Pres. Wilson will keep out of it, and let Europe fight her battles. Our Government has kept out of the Mexican revolution in good shape and why should we be influenced to meddle with matters on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Germany is boasting that she has the billions paid her by France in 1870 and, also, full graineries to feed her armies, but France and Belgium are also well provided for, and prepared for this war. Germans are sure of winning the day against the Allied Powers. Having invaded Belgium and partly France, her Emperor says that it is only a matter of time to accomplish the entire subjugation of France, Belgium and the other Allied Powers. Let us see, if that happens, look out for the United States, and South America. But that will not happen. That would be setting back the hand of the time clock of progress and universal freedom of humanity. The Socialists of all countries will smite and drag to the ground the Crown Heads of Europe. The German Emperor’s arrogance ought to be checked. He is of opinion that his army is invincible and that he can conquer the World, being well prepared in money and victuals. These are very dull days for me. I feel lonesome. There is nothing in store for me. Still, I am in splendid health. My left leg is not any better. I may remain crippled the rest of my career. I read the first part of the Declaration of Independence this morning and read law all day. Also added by 2 figures a while only. My mind soon gets tired of studying now.

Saturday, August 18, 1914 Yesterday Fernand was here. Ralph was here late in the afternoon. There was a big rain yesterday, also. The Pope died day before yesterday – at home. The Germans and the Belgians are still fighting also the French against the Germans, especially in Alsace and Loraine, and the Russians are fighting against the Austrians on the frontiers of the two Countries. The English troops have landed on the Continent and are on their way to Belgium to form a junction with the French and Belgian troops there. The trouble with the present European War is that if Germany wins, she will be arrogant, and, inflated by her victories, and watch: the first movement after she has dominated France and Belgium will be an attempt to the dismemberment of those two countries and the establishment of a kingdom for both countries. Then she will test the efficacy of the Monroe Doctrine by invading South America, involving the United States into a sanguinary war of defense against that power. Germany believes now, that she can subjugate the entire Universe. The question now, which is presented us for solution is: Can our Country, with the present insufficiency of her Naval armament, keep Germany off with her superior Navy. Can our Government maintain the Monroe Doctrine on the Western Continent, especially in South America, where there is already a large preponderance of influence, by virtue of the large German settlements there?

Monday, August 31, 1914 The War news is unfavorable to the Allied Armies, thus far. Germany has the best of them in France and Belgium. The English are getting badly worsted also. The victorious Teutons are advancing on Paris, the French Capital, but the Russians are making headway into Eastern Prussia. They expect to capture Berlin, the German Capital, in two months, at most. The latest War news is that the Germans are gradually pushing the Allies towards Paris, France, and that the Russians are pushing the Germans and Austrians in Eastern Germany.

Monday, December 7, 1914 I sold my buggy yesterday to Ben Bernard, my son in law, for $11.00. He is to pay me today. Lucia, Fernand and Ralph called here yesterday. None stayed for dinner. Aurelene, Fernand’s wife, was here in the afternoon, with her children, also Marie Woolford. I must mention Ellen, the old Negro woman who once was my children’s nurse, ate dinner here. Anatole also was here. The great European War is still going on.

January 22, 1916 I was subject to a depression of spirit, but I lately have read in an opinion of a certain contributor of the Times-Democrat that the past and also the future do not belong to us, but only the present. I deduced the conclusion that, as it is only the present that belongs to us, that we should use it to the best we can to our advantage. I took it for granted that it is best to be satisfied with the present, as it is the only real thing that belongs to us. As for the past, it is gone. We should not feel any remorse as to what has taken place, but we must resolve to do presently all we can to improve our well being; as for the future, it is not ours, as it is impossible to say what it will hold for our welfare. I am a true Republican in principles. That is, I am in favor of Republican forms of Government. I say that, when a person is born a Republican, he is a Democrat in principles, as the two terms are synonymous. Sovereignty of the people is what these two terms mean. I am looking ahead to the time when all of the universe will be Republican. The outcome of the great European War now going on will be the establishment of Republican forms of Government where the dynasties now exist. The sovereignty of the people is what the world is now tending to, not the sovereignty of monarchs.

January 23, 1916 It was the 8th day of the present month that the Battle of New Orleans, 101 years ago, was fought. My father would often speak to me of the strenuous times of those days. How the Tennessean’s and Kentuckian’s would drift down the Mississippi River in their flat boats, roofed over, and dance on the roof of the boats as they floated down the river, as they were going down the river towards New Orleans, in anticipation of trouble from the British, who were massing forces around Pensacola and vicinity of New Orleans. Finally the call was made for men, and a company was organized in West Baton Rouge and adjoining Parishes, and the men flocked to the American Standard, no one holding back. My grandfather, Isidor LaBauve, was at the Battle of New Orleans on the 8th of January 1815.

February 10, 1916 Why should I not write what my mind prompts me to consign to paper. My thoughts revert to the two trips I made to Louis Fredericks, on Bayou DuLarge, Terrebonne Parish, La. Two years ago, in the interest of the Chickasaw-Choctaw Indians and their descendants. Here, on Bayou DuLarge, Ile Jean Charles and Ile Au Chene, I met Mary, descendant of the Choctimache’ Tribe of Indians, all of them crossed with European blood. Never since my existence have I met with more hospitable people. One would incline to believe that these people reside in the back woods in impoverished wigwams. But, not so! They all reside in good houses and many of them are good farmers, using the latest modern implements of husbandry, adapted to cultivation.

Whilst on my last trip at Bayou DuLarge, Gabriel, my boy, proposed a trip to Lost Island. I was not much taken with the idea, but still, I agreed to go along with the party, which were to go on the venture; so, we all got ready. Mr. Louis Frederick, agreeing to go along if I went. One early morning we embarked on the gasoline boat which was to convey us to Bayou Ducade, and there, to use the gasoline boat of Augustin Billot, and proceed to Lost Island, from this place. Our trip there was interesting in many ways, for we had to cross the Lac Merchant and go through the pass, which connects it to the outside portion of the Gulf of Mexico lying between this place and Lost Island, 12 miles out and directly South. We passed through the places laid aside by the State for oyster beds and we saw the place where Bayou DuLarge flows out and meet the waters of the Gulf. We made a stop at a stone, at the angle formed by Bayou DuLarge and the pass from Lac Merchant, and went on our left as we proceeded outside towards Lost Island. The coast, all along the left of us, and about 3 miles off, was dotted with trapper’s camps. The backcountry away from thence was a waste of marsh reeds, in all probability with a watery foundation. The probability is, that there was a low ridge of land on the near portion of the bay, formed by the opening of wide expanse into the Gulf of Mexico. Our boat glided splendidly, plowing the water of brine and leaving a long aft of churned salty water in it’s wake. The chuck, chuck, chuck of the escape of the gasoline gas, and the merry making of our passengers helped to make the time less tedious. Once in a while we would see a school of porpoises disporting themselves, not far from our boat. A black cloud appeared on the horizon, which we were thus traveling towards Lost Island, and to make sure of not being exposed to the chops of the sea, which were apt to follow the wind, which in all cases, precede a summer shower. We made for a cove, which was formed by an indentation on the left coast, and here sat idly at anchor, inside this inlet. We awaited the result of what appeared to be a summer shower. We were not long awaiting the preclude, as, all at once, big drops of rain commenced falling, and following this, a shower. We happened to enter a flat bottomed bay, protected from the outside, which was the open Gulf, by a strip of land, upon which was a growth of tall sea weed marsh, the long length of the sea growth affording us a protection against the wind from the Gulf. By actual test, it was found that there were only about two feet of water with the bottom studded with the finest quality of salty oysters. The young men forming part of our company jumped into the water and, with their hands, filled our skiff several times with oysters and, after they had exhausted the supply of oysters, they quit gathering them and took a good swim in the little bay. The water, by the by, happened to be of a warm temperature. I now resume publication of the Lost Island trip of two days and two nights there. The supply of oysters we got here was well tucked in the inside of our boats cabin, and with these we proceeded on our course towards Lost Island. I will say that the oysters we fished from that bay were the biggest and saltiest that I ever ate. The first intimation I had of Lost Island was the sight of tall masts South of us, but way off. At first, they were scarcely discernable, but, after getting nearer to the island, they became more and more developed, and finally, we saw the body of two gasoline boats at anchor in Lost Island Bayou. As we neared, I could form a conception of the extent and the conformation of this island. It is a very low and flat island, on which seaweeds have grown. After landing, we could, with our own eyes, judge this body of land twelve miles off the bosom of the Gulf of Mexico. The two gasoline boats anchored in the bayou happened to belong to the brothers Chiasson of Morgan City, who carry on the fish commerce. Major A. B. Fleury must have been a young man when he migrated to Texas from New York City. He often told me that he had first located at Matagorda, Texas, and, that there, he opened a tobacco store, and, that the Mexicans would come to that place with pack mules and trade with him, but, finally, when the Texan Revolution broke out, the Mexicans ransacked his store and that he had to quit store keeping. He told me that all the Fleury’s were lawyers, and that they resided at a place called Jamaica on Long Island Sound. I have often thought that he was related to the Fleury’s of Jefferson Parish, near New Orleans. In fact, I saw a signboard in New Orleans with the name of John Fleury, and I am sure that this is a close relative of Maj. A.B. Fleury of Texas. Many are the sad wants attached to the Lost Island. Here August 10, 1856, the storm commenced blowing, on a Sunday morning and for three days the occupants of the island battled with the elements. There were erected here stately buildings, and all that riches could bestow were lavishly poured here. This was the place for the frivolous and the gay. Balls were frequent. On the very same night that the weather became threatening there was a ball. All along the beach on the south about 50 feet from the edge of the gulf water there are two rows of dunes formed, I suppose, by the high tides or storm. It is a prefect barrier here about ten feet high and, all along the beach they are visible. There are a great variety of shells on the edge of the water and also in the interior of the island. Speaking about politicians, I would state that Ernest Montagne has changed his allegiance from, 1st, the Democratic Party to the Republican Party to the Democratic Party. He is now, March 29, 1916, a rabid Democrat-dyed in the wool, for the time being. I remember we held a meeting the evening before the elections, in one of my rooms. Ernest Montagne, Jules Melebeck and Leo Landry were present. I called the meeting to order and told them who were present, the object of the meeting. This meeting was almost altogether composed of colored voters. In order to harmonize the matter, I proposed to them that half should sacrifice their votes and vote the Democratic ticket and half the Republican ticket. Ernest Montagne proposed that the Republican votes of the 3rd Ward be given solid for Minos T. Gordy, who was running for judge of the District Court, but the colored voters turned that down, also, as a Democratic candidate. They were indignant that their manhood should be thus tampered with. They answered me that they would do anything for me but change their ticket, that, as a body, they were Republicans, and, that they were determined to cast a Republican vote. I asked them to divide their suffrage, half Democrat and half Republican. They turned that down also. Those were stirring days. They were bent on getting me out of office. I voted against Minos T. Gordy the next day. The Negroes were not allowed to vote, and they have never voted since. Jim Williams was a candidate for Sheriff. He would have gotten the solid Negro vote. Gabriel, my son, was anxious to escort the Negro voters to the pole. So was Jimmy Williams, but I advised them to not try the experiment, as Gov. Foster, who was the Democratic Candidate, had sent Grandville Shaw, whose son was John Shaw, was a candidate against me for Justice of the Peace. A number of rifles and ammunition, for some, to shoot down any Negro who attempted to vote. This squad of men appointed by G. B. Shaw, was put under the command of Desplanet Lige, and they were in the upper second story of the Court House, in the room facing the West. I saw them myself. I was told that Minos T. Gordy sat on the steps leading to the 2nd story, or the courtroom, with a rifle across his knees, defying any Negro to come to vote, by his attitude.

Lost Island: Away, 12 miles South West from Lost Island, there is a lighthouse said to be in 30 feet depth to the bottom of the Gulf there. Exactly at 6 o’clock p.m. until six o’clock a.m. every day, the light shines alternately, exactly one minute and then shut off exactly one minute. This is done by a revolving pivot on which a lamp is set. I was shown the light by Augustin Billot, who was along with us, on his gasoline boat. I will not long forget the myriads of mosquitoes that made life intolerable outside of our bars, after night had set in, and these we had to tuck in well under our mattress to keep this pest out. We lived high whilst there, having fresh fish every meal, and good wine. We also had a supply of fresh water. Intermixed with the coarse sand of the island, there are an inexhaustible number of shells of all shapes and colors. We saw but very few birds. A few trees without limbs were found on the beach. I surmised that these were trees from the coast of Mexico, driven here by storms. This island was once the summer resort of some of the wealthy families of Louisiana. It was also the rendezvous of the professional gamblers of our State. The 10th of August 1856, a storm entirely submerged the island, carrying death in its wake. Nearly 400 persons perished there. Many were carried 12 miles inland and deposited on sea marshes of Terrebonne Parish. Many were never found.

March 31, 1916 How it was that a new regulator company was organized, I do not know, but, at any rate, Martial Duhon, after serving time in the penitentiary for stealing hogs, organized a company of regulators and was elected their Captain. This company had, for it’s object, the whipping of Negroes at night. Each member of the company had a mask of sheep’s skin with the wool on. One moonshine night at about 11 o’clock Negroes held a prayer meeting at their church in Abbeville, and they were returning home when they met Martial Duhon and his company at a place called Lampman Lane. Negroes getting scared from the appearance of these mounted regulators retreated back to town and the news of the appearance of these night marauders spread like wild fire in town Immediately, Alphonse LeBlanc, who was Sheriff, and Minos Landry, who was District Attorney, hastened toward Lampman Lane, where they came upon the company and put them under arrest and took the lead back to town, with men in tow. Arriving at the corner of the lane and a gap in the Cherokee hedge on the North side of the road. A gun, from the Western hedge, was fired and two of the horsemen fell, one dead, the other in dying condition. At the firing, Gordy called out to the gunman to not fire again, that he and Alphonse had charge of the men. The person who had fired at them answered "All right" and not more firing was done. Newt Jones, whom the regulators were aiming to whip that night, was charged with killing the two boys who were killed. After being put through the formalities of a trial, was sentenced to the State Penitentiary for 11 years, upon circumstantial evidence.

May 11, 1916 Maj. A. B. Fleury, after having his store in Matagorda pillaged by the Mexicans, deduced the only alternative was to leave the country or join the Texan Army. The last he did and was attached to Gen. Sam Houston’s Army. This army retreated East of Buffalo Bayou, South of where now stands Houston, and crossed the river at Lynchburg, on a bridge thrown across the river, and throwing up some dirt breastwork at San Jacinto. They settled behind them, awaiting the Mexican Army, under Gen. Santa Anna. After Santa Anna’s Army had crossed Buffalo Bayou, a squad of Texians under command of Maj. Fleury, was sent down the Bayou, opposite Lynchburg, with order’s to burn the bridge. (pages 164 and 165 missing)

July 17, 1917 I am about recording the death of a hero, Gustave LaBauve, Orderly Sergeant of "A" Company of the 18th Regiment of Infantry, commanded by Col. Armant, of St. James Parish. He was participating in the Battle of Mansfield during the Confederate War. The 18th Regiment was ordered to charge a Battery deployed behind a rail fence. As soon as the Colonel received the order to charge the Battery, he arose, leaving his Regiment prone on the field. He answered "The order to charge will be executed; but charging that Battery is leading my men to death", where upon he mounted his fiery steed, but, no sooner had he mounted, than a ball ended his Military career. He fell dead, but the Regiment made the charge nevertheless. In advancing at a double quick, the Standard Bearer fell. No sooner had he been killed than Alexandre Breaux of Fausse Pointe, raised it high, telling the boys to follow their Standard. He had made only a few steps onward when he was killed. Leonce Ransonette, also of Fausse Pointe, raised the Colors high and advanced toward their goal, but he also fell, mortally wounded. Gustave LaBauve happened to be the only officer of the Company unscathed. All the others had either been wounded, out of action or killed. He, as follows on such emergencies, would not allow the Regimental Colors to trail in the dust. On picking it up, he raised it on high and called to the men to follow him, on to victory. No sooner were these words uttered, than he was perforated, by a mini ball and fell on the bloody field, covered with immortal glory. He was my first cousin, uncle Victor LaBauve being his father. There was not a lazy bone in that boy, fear was an unknown quantity in him. He was always ready to do his part in everything. I knew the boy well, for we split boards together in the Fausse Pointe swamps on Bayou Crocodile that empties into Lake Rond. For nearly two months we were encamped near that Bayou. I was then 15 years old and Gustave was about two years older than myself. The Company must have been the center Company of the Regiment, as it was entrusted with the Regimental Colors. The Regiment got to the rail fence, anyhow.

All at once the Battery which had been pouring grape shot and canister into the ranks of the 18th Regiment, ceased firing, and the whole Battery, with it’s support of Infantry, were captured as prisoners of war, by the Confederates who had flanked them. They all surrendered, about 5,000 men in all. To accomplish this, Gen. Dick Taylor had sacrificed nearly one whole Regiment. Gustave LaBauve was every inch a man. To prove his sense of honor, it is only necessary to relate about his furlough at his home at Fausse Pointe. He was on furlough home at the time the Yankees went up the (Bayou) Teche to the Red River. His wife and wife’s relatives begged him to remain home, that his furlough was not yet up. Nothing could prevail on him to remain home while his Company would be exposed to the enemies fire on the battlefield. So, eluding the Yankee army by a flanking movement, he left his home and arrived at the Headquarters just in time to enter into action.

July 23, 1917 Whilst I think of it, I might as well consign to paper what I consider only an incident in the routine of life. One day it was in the midst of summer, I was on my way from Texana, Texas, which was a small town located on the West bank of the Navidad River, to East Carancahua, where father and Thelismar, my brother, were camped. Night closed on me at the West Carancahua and I had six miles yet to travel to reach East Carancahua, but night closing on me did not deter me from undertaking to clear the distance, which separated me from the creek. I never arrived at East Carancahua that night, but slept on the prairie. I had brought along some corn bread and some jerked meat from home and had same, in a bag, well wrapped up. The grass being pretty high, I made a good snug bed and took my saddle for a pillow and, to make it softer, I used my saddle blanket to put under my head. I had hardly gone to sleep when myriads of small ants charged on me, from everywhere, and, to make the night more hideous, the wolves, having scented the meat that was in my bag, kept howling all night long. One pack would commence howling in one direction and another pack would answer the first ones from the opposite direction. All night long the howling kept me up. In the morning, after I could well see where I was, I ascertained that I was but about two miles from the camp. My horse had been circling all the time before I lay down on the prairie. Arriving that early surprised both father and Thelismar, who asked me what had happened at home to make me travel at night in this manner, and to arrive at so unusual hour. After I related to them my adventure of the night, they laughed heartily. July 5, 1917 The draft is ended. All young men between the ages of 21 and 31 years had to register. An army of several thousand men was to be drafted from 10,000 registered names. Probably 500,000 men will be ordered to camps of instruction, drilled and sent to France on the battle line. The United States declared war against Germany April 2nd of this year. Congress has been in session continuously since then. Last week Greece declared war against Germany. The United States is making big preparations for war. Several men of Abbeville, between the ages of 21 and 31 years, have been drafted for the war, for instance Kibbe, a tall fellow, 24 years old, Leotaud, a drugstore clerk, Robertson, a young Negro boy. Mann Vincent, a near neighbor and night scholar of mine, the father of 4 children, Martial Nunez’s son, Hebard Nunez’s son, and others. The war was brought on by the German sub-marines sinking diverse boats belonging to the United States, in violation of the most sacred rules of war. Now the war has come down to the struggle between Democracy and Autocracy. Our liberties are at stake. We are preparing to fight the battles of freedom of oppression. We are to free the whole universe or become a colony of Germany. Brazil and Argentine Republics do not seem to realize the danger, which encompasses them. Germany seems to have hypnotized them entirely. They are on the fence, when, in order to maintain their sovereignty they should hence embark into the worldwide war. They are apparently under the German spell. Germany has a strong colony in Brazil and naturally, a strong influence is brought to bear upon the general government of those two Republics. The pressure is so great that they are afraid of acting in the present emergency. The United States is bound to win the present war. The world cannot return to ancient feudalism, that epoch is played out entirely and Democracy and progress must go on, hand in hand, reigning by Devine right. The sovereign people will no more be enticed by such fraud. There was a time, when such doctrines were swallowed by the common people, but that time is no more. We are fighting today to dethrone the Kaiser of Germany and to enfranchise the German people and to make the whole world Democratic and sovereign.

July 25, 1917 My father was very fond of hunting and in Texas he happened to be in the hunters paradise. His specialty was hunting deer. He would ride off on the prairie and would generally return home with, at least, three deer. I was never fond of hunting. I was always of a studious nature, though I have not progressed much in that line. I may say that I have acquired a pretty ordinary education by hard study.

I will never forget my trip from Texas to Louisiana, near the fall of the year 1879. Dr. Kuykendall of Wharton Co. got ready to move a drove of mixed cattle consisting of long horn Texas steers, cows and their calves, young beeves and heifers. An overland trip, with a drove of cattle, offer a great inducement to a person anxious to see the great panorama of nature unfold before his eyes. At last we started on our trip, spending the first night on Blue Creek, a stream that emptied into the Colorado River. It would not be out of reason to say we camped on the side of that creek till nighttime. At night, all of us hands congregated into a shanty about ten yards off, with the advanced notion to spend the night in slumber, but somehow or other it was to have been otherwise, for, as soon as we had comfortably steeled for a good nights rest a swarm of fleas attacked us, making the night all but agreeable. Early that night a September storm sprang up and a deluge of water fell from the clouds. All night long it poured down. By next morning, the creek had overflowed and spread out of its bank, making it a roaring flood. Everything that could float was carried off down the stream, old tubs, and even a 5-gallon pot was carried down the rushing stream. Our men, myself included, took refuge on a neighbor’s house gallery whilst the storm was raging, for the floor of the outhouse was under water and we had been, perforce, constrained to leave our quarters. The weather having cleared off, we made a start with our drove of cattle and slept at Willow Bar on the Colorado River. The next morning we crossed some timbered land and debouched into a lane traversing a large cotton farm. Here, I saw my first and last stampede of a drove of horned cattle. The lane happened to be flanked on each side with a rail fence and the largest steers of our drove were, as a matter of course, always the lead ones. I remember well that one of the front steers running his left horn under the top rail of the left side of the fence, jerked it up and it fell amongst the drove of cattle and immediately they commenced piling up on one another and turning back upon us who were behind the drove. All the hands, except Dr. Kuykendall and myself, left ahead of the running cattle, who, were making for the timber. We ought to have followed the hands back towards the timber, but no. The Dr. and myself stood on the road, one on each side, and we would scare the cattle, as they would pass us on their way back. The other hands had more experience than myself and, in order to keep clear of those long horned Texas steers, they kept loping in front of the stampeding drove, keeping at a respectable distance ahead of the fleeing drove. Dr. Kuykendall, who was the only interested party of the bunch, as the stock were his, asked me to make a stand with him and keep back as many head of cattle as possible. I made the stand on one side of the lane, whilst he took the other side, as his vantage ground. There we were, hitting the noses of the big steers, the horned and the muley cows, and the calves, as they came to striking distance. By thus exerting ourselves with our hats on each side of our steeds, we finally made the drove halt in front of us. I have often thought since then of the imminent danger in which I had placed myself, by so attempting to obstruct the passage of long horned cattle, on each side of me. Finally, after a heap of about five feet of cattle had formed a sort of breastwork in front of us, we stood, aghast, looking at the pile of stock, heaped up in front of us. Finally that pile began to loosen up, and one by one, the old cows would leave the group, and walk off, leaving uncovered the top of the bunch, when another and then another pick itself up, shake off the dust accumulated on them and walk off as leisurely as the first one had done. Our point of destination was Bayard’s, below New Iberia, La., the time of the year, about the middle of August. I often tremble when I think of this episode, how near death I had been, in front of long horned beasts, which might have unsaddled me, and thrown me amongst the stampeding stock, to be trodden to death under the hoof of the fleeing cattle, but fortunately, nothing unusual happened, all remained quiet after the halting of the drove. As the pile of cattle in our front diminished gradually, we saw the extent of the injury wrought on old cows and young calves, as they unrolled from their cramped positions, mashed by the weight of the heavier ones that helped to mash them down. One of the last creatures to rise was our old pack mule, which appeared to be in a pitiable predicament after her experience of being mashed down by several hundredweight of pressure. Dr. Kuykendall, owner of the drove, concluded to leave her here, in charge of some Negroes who had come out, at sight of the drove. There was a Negro school, in full blast, on the plantation, a white man being the teacher. From the noise that reached our ears, we surmised that the pedagogue was teaching some unruly urchin to obey the rules of the school, that pick-a-ninny had a very strong voice, judging from the distance that separated us from the schoolhouse. Once in a while we could distinctly hear the howls as they were administered to the recalcitrant scholar. One of our men made the remark that he had a mind to go forth and administer to the worthy pedagogue a good thrashing, as this teacher was said to be a northerner, or a "Yankee" teacher. But, anyhow, we were saved the trouble of interference, as we would not have allowed the school to be tampered with should it be "white or colored". Thus, we were satisfied that nothing could happen to mar our peregrination on our way to New Iberia, La. We got to Debotaud’s, finally, and stayed there one night. The next night we camped near Beaumont, Texas, within a few miles of town, which, then, was a small place. It was cold and chilly that night. We realized that winter was near at hand. The next day we traversed the piney woods stretch, between the Neches and the Sabine Rivers, and the second day we were in Louisiana. In about one week hence, we could expect to be in New Iberia, our point of destination. We arrived at Iberia in due time and there I left Dr. Kuykendall and the drove, to go to Fausse Pointe, where my uncle, Gilbert Hebert, resided. There I found the family all alive, and, to my surprise, I met Isidor, my older brother, whom my mother had given up for dead. He was there, at uncle Hebert’s, well and alive.

Abbeville, January 1, 1918 The European war is still going on. The U.S. declared war against Austria Hungary, as soon as Congress met last week. The U.S. has raised an army of two million men, to be sent over to France to help fight the battles for Democracy, and for the purpose of dethroning the Kaiser, who is now the ruler of Germany and Austro-Hungary, Bulgaria and Turkey. Gen. Allmby, with his army, has captured the City of Jerusalem, Palestine. The Syrian population of Abbeville is highly elated over this good news from their country. The City of Jerusalem has been in the possession of the Turks for 1,200 years. The necessary number of men contained in 18 different camps, has been raised by selective drafts and by volunteering. Many young men from this Parish are now in the camp of instruction at Camp Pike, Arkansas. Others are at Camp Beauregard, near Alexandria, La. I believe that the last camp is for the training of officers to command the Army, to do duty at the Front, in Northern France, in Flanders. The mule rabbit of Western and Central Texas has a particular way of abiding on the prairie roads, between the Navidad and West Carancahua Rivers. I have often seen them. No dog can catch them on the run. We often siced the dogs after them, but they would outdistance the dogs, running along the road. The horned toad is another animal found in Central and Western Texas. There are also found the tarantula, the scorpion and the centipede. Texas abounds with wild turkeys and prairie chickens. Whilst I am at it, I may as well write about a turkey hunt I had in company with Fred Armstrong in Loma Creek woods. Fred Armstrong had come for the purpose of having that hunt. It was in the dead of winter and all the trees were bare of leaves. The denuded branches were a good roost for wild turkeys. As we glided through the wood, it was in the dead of night, we stopped under a large post oak and Fred pointed to a dry limb, where stood a turkey, asking me whether I could distinguish it. I answered "no". He took deliberate aim and let loose, and a big, fat turkey fell down from the tree. Fred made me notice that dry stuff from the limb occupied by the turkey had fallen to the ground. At the firing of his rifle, a large gang of turkeys from the surrounding trees commenced flying off.

January 4, 1918 This is but a dream and a shadow, at best. I have been laid up for 5 weeks with sciatica. I was uncertain whether I would ever get over the ailment, but all indications point to a recovery, partial, if not complete. There are persons about who state that they have had the same ailment and they are up and going. Fortunately, spring is knocking at the door and the grass is growing. I was reading today that the country is getting short of corn. A great deal of our corn crop is expected to spoil before it can be divided amongst the Allied Forces in France. The European War is getting to be a matter of serious import. Many of our boys are at the different camps of instruction and will soon be sent off to France to fight the Central Army. This is the anniversary of the birthday of Washington, but little attention was paid to the celebration of the occasion. The only noticeable feature, which distinguished today from other ordinary days was, that the banks and offices of public officials were closed. I am very glad to be on the road to recovery from my ailment.

March 18, 1918 The War is still raging. There is to be another call for men the 29th day of March. That is to say the remainder left here are to be entrained on that date and sent to Camp Pike, Arkansas, to be equipped and drilled for a certain length of time before being sent across the ocean, to the trenches in France.

Sunday, March 24, 1918 The German Army, in Northern France, began their drive on the Western Front and made considerable progress. Their loss has been enormous, as they advanced in close formation. 100 thousand men per day are expected to be their loss. Today, Wednesday, they are still hammering at the British and French lines, since Sunday morning. The Kaiser, Gen. Hindenberg, and another great general, are on the front. Not close enough to be hit. Somewhere in Belgium, about 15 miles from the line of battle, directing the movement of their army. The present war seems to be Democracy against Autocracy. It appears the Kaiser wants to rule the whole world as a master rules his vassals. The desperation with which the Germans are assaulting the works in Northern France indicates the desperation with which they fight. They have ravaged Russia and made slaves of her people. The Russians on their side have become traitors to the cause of liberty. Their deposed Autocrat, the Tsar, is a prisoner at Tobolsk, Siberia. Now what will become of the liberty of the people? The Germans are doing their best to place an Autocratic ruler over the Russian people. The Allies, aided by the Americans, will continually push back the Germans to the walls of the Capital of Prussia, Berlin. The Germans will never consent on their own that they are vanquished, till they are driven to the gates of their Capital. The American forces will soon commence crossing the Ocean towards France, to reinforce the Allied line, also ready, very strong. Were it not for spies and traitors, the Americans would have a number of airships on the battlefield in France.

Thursday, April 11, 1918 The European War is still going on. The Americans have a very heavy contingent of men on the fighting line in France. The Germans still expect to win the War. All the men enrolled here are sent to Camp Pike, Arkansas to prepare to cross over to France. They are, as a general thing, drilled about six months before they are made to cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Monday, April 22, 1918 The English-French Army on the French line of battle, from all indications, were preparing for a big drive against the Germans. The Germans, apparently, have about exhausted their strength and now, the probability is that the Allied Forces are ready for a big drive against the German lines. I bought $12.50 worth of government stamps. They are in my cash box, with other papers. All our extra money, and more, ought to go to help Democracy on the battle line in France. It is strange how some people will sacrifice all, liberty, freedom, and all that is most sacred, for pleasure. Why? That company ought to have been counter-ordered, after the declaration of war by the United States, to Germany. I have been told from good authority that the townspeople of Abbeville, have engaged the same company to exhibit here again next spring, 1919. Our boys in France need all the money that may be sent them. The people at home are especially enjoined to give all the money possible to our boys in the trenches in France, in order to help them win the War in favor of Democracy and personal liberty. Our country is helping to establish universal liberty. This cannot be accomplished without sacrifices in men and money.

October 4, 1918 Spanish Influenza. The disease known as Spanish influenza has been raging since about one month and a half. Many of our townspeople have fallen victim to this scourge. Adolphe Brasseux, Lucius Dutel, Nora Kibbe and Mrs. Boudreaux, wife of Dr. Boudreaux. Ralph has been sick of the disease but has pulled through safely.

October 16, 1918 Since my last record of events, many important events have transpired, for instance, Germany is suing for peace, Bulgaria has given up the war struggle and accept any term the Allied Powers and the United States will be apt to impose upon her. Austria Hungary is ready to collapse and Turkey has withdrawn from the war contest. To counteract the good news from the war center, there is an epidemic of Spanish influenza, a disease, which is often fatal. President Wilson has laid down 14 conditions to be accepted by the Central Powers, before peace can be obtained. No peace can obtain before those 14 conditions are fulfilled. In the first place, all territories now occupied by the Central Army must be evacuated. France and Belgium are to be indemnified for their loss during the War, Alsace and Loraine are to be returned to France, etc., etc. The Allied Army and the Americans are now driving back the Germans. I am looking for an invasion of Germany by the Allied Army.

October 17, 1918 Half past 8 a.m. Fernand has just informed me of the death of Dr. Boudrous’ wife, who is a daughter of Desire Trahan. The influenza is taking a heavy toll from the urban population of Abbeville. There have not been any cases of influenza here, yet. Courtney had some fever day before yesterday and was in bed a part of the day. Mabel had a headache yesterday. Dalton Trahan’s oldest boy died last night of the influenza. Ralph was down with it, but it appears that he is better. I have reliable and positive information that, yesterday, Ralph was a great deal better. I have not been able to hear from him today, yet I cannot understand how the Americans and the Allied Powers are to obtain a durable peace without dictating same, under the walls of Berlin, and I am firmly of opinion that our Army means to do so. As far as concerns the Kaiser, he must abdicate before any treaty of peace can be dreamt of. I am firmly of opinion that the Army of the Allied Powers, and the Americans, are preparing to invade Germany. Theodore Roosevelt believes that our army will invade Germany and he does not think that anything short of that ought to be done. But, let us see, will the Kaiser agree to the loss of his crown? Oh, no! He will, along with his generals, hold out as long as possible.

November 4, 1918 War is about over. Bulgaria and Turkey have quit and Austria is about quitting the game, too. The Supreme Council, which has been sitting in Versailles, France, have ordered that Germany’s Army retire thirty miles from the frontier of Belgium. Germany has displayed considerable stubbornness in connection with the terms of peace stipulated in the 14 conditions laid out by President Wilson. Should that country show antagonism to the peace dictation laid down by our President and the Supreme Council, now sitting at Versailles, nothing will be left but the invasion of Germany, and the imposition of peace by the United Allies and America, under the walls of Berlin, the Capital of Germany.

November 11, 1918 An Armistice was agreed to and signed by the German Generals and the French General Foche. The terms of the Armistice are; the Germans will evacuate all of the territory, both in France, and Belgium. They agreed to leave a space of 30 miles between the French lines and theirs. The American Army is following the retreating German Army. The Congress of the Allied Nations and the Americans will hold a grand council in the ancient Palace of Versailles, France, to decide what will be the fate of Germany and her Kaiser and her Generals.

Saturday, November 30, 1918 I rested pretty well last night. The Germans are beaten, badly. So badly that they claim they are at starvation point, and are asking the United States to help them, and keep them from starving; but, as the American papers say, how about France and Belgium? They require a great deal more help than the Germans.

January 1, 1920 The young generation of Abbeville is celebrating this day with pomp and ├ęclat. Exactly at 12 o’clock last night, the rice mill and the bell of the churches made them selves heard, in the noise created by them. I had not slept, yet. The winter has been very mild, up to this time. There has been no ice of any consequence, yet. The cold has been moderate. February is generally the coldest month of winter, and it is yet to come.

January 24, 1920 This is the Saturday after the Primary Election and the wind is very cold. It is also drizzling with the wind driving from the North.

January 30, 1920 Today is very cold with indications of snow. It has been cold, now, for 5 days, with no hope of improving towards warmth. The nights have been very cold.

Wednesday, February 4, 1920 North wind, sunshiny day. Alcide LaBauve, my nephew, was here today. He looks well and he feels well.

February 6, 1920 I have, this day, torn and burned Isidor’s note, in my favor, for a lot situated outside of the Corporation of Abbeville, La., for $300.00, payable on demand, without interest from date till paid. I cannot be so ingenuous as to slight him in that manner. I do not know the date of this note, nor, do I care to know. Isidor has been a very good boy to me, in my adversity.

April 13, 1920 Mrs. Eisele and Irene LaBauve were here today on a visit. It has been quite cold for a April day. It is nearly freezing. The wind is very strong.

Final Entry, Undated Gabriel is to do the necessary repairs to the house. Gilbert LaBauve is to share equally in the garden produce. Gabriel’s wife is asked to do the washing and ironing of Gilbert LaBauve’s clothes. Gilbert LaBauve is to get his necessary milk and also his milk and coffee for breakfast. He is also to have ???????? every day, once before noon and once after noon. Gilbert LaBauve’s will is in a large envelope and can be easily found. In payment for the rent of his house, Gabriel LaBauve and his wife agree to board him, thus said Gilbert LaBauve.  

3 comments:

Debra Perry said...

It has been a pleasure reading this blog entry! And to simply say 'pleasure', is an understatement! I have bookmarked the entry to read it again and again until I can envision all that has been shared.

Thank you for sharing this!

Lynn said...

Thank you, Debra! Happy Thanksgiving!

Lynn said...

Have you read Gilbert's son Raphael's journal? It is also online, I think.