File:The Old Plantation House, by Rosalie Urquhart.jpg

Identifier: diaryofrefugee00fear (find matches)
Title: Diary of a refugee
Year: 1910 (1910s)
Authors: Fearn, Frances (Hewitt) Mrs. ed. (from old catalog)
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, Moffat, Yard and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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n- 14 DIARY OF A REFUGEE dering what freedom would do for thesechild-hke people. Would they be improvedby it, or would they lapse back into a savagecondition when the firm and guiding hand ofthe master was taken from them? My sons news of the fall of New Orleanswas confirmed while we were at breakfast by aman on horseback, riding rapidly down theBaj^ou road, calling out as he went by, TheYankees are coming! It was the signal forus to gather up the things we most valued ofour belongings and to go on board TheLafourche, wliich was waiting with steamup in the Bayou, fronting the house, to carryus off. It was a sad little group that left the dearold home. We were so overcome with sorrowand terror as to our future fate that we gaveno thought of what we were taking with us.Th^/iiegroes were far more thoughtful for us;one picked up my husbands favorite sofa, an-other his chair, one even went so far as tosweep the silver on the breakfast table into ahandy clothes-basket and carry it on board.
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< 0^ ^ I Q g O 8 DIARY OF A REFUGEE 15 Indeed, we had great cause afterwards to bevery thankful to them for their forethoughtin the provision that they made for our com-fort and for the supphes that they put onboard; the latter were sadly needed before ourjourney was over. My heart was torn at the separation frommy son Richard, who had returned to join hiscompany. We Southern women need all ourstrength and courage to give up our sons andloved ones, our homes are taken from us, andwe must become refugees! My husband has been able to put on boardthe steamboat about one-half of this years cropof sugar. The plantation is only three milesfrom Donalds^dlle, at the mouth of the BayouLafourche. When we entered the Mississ-ippi River, it had become a seething massof craft of all kinds and description that couldbe made into possible conveyances to carryaway the terror-stricken people who were fly-ing from their homes with their loved onesand treasures, all making a mad rush for themouth of R

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