Ignore anything concerning mushrooms in this article. It was a reach and didn't work. Although seemingly frivolous, this evolves into a serious paper.
This get together had been planned for a week or longer. I again waited until the last minute to flip the switch on it. Al showed up with only an hour's notice. Mark awaited with both of his steeds poised for action depending on the criteria of the ride.
Al and I arrived at Mark's at about 9:30. He rushed out of the door and did a Hopalong Cassidy mount onto the CRF 250. I told him, "Wrong bike," which spurred a reverse Hopalong Cassidy dismount followed by a forward Hopalong Cassity mount upon the 750 Nighthawk. That over, we exited his property with few words shared between us though I did see Al and Mark whispering. I ignored it and motored on. My target was Eola. I don't know if they suspected that immediately.
Up through the country we rode, faster than usual since I've geared all my bikes for ultimate speed and performance. I glanced at Al, his long flowing beard hanging over the edge of the gas tank as he tucked in to smooth the air flow over what could be an impressive obstacle. Mark faded to the rear as he is fairly new to following me. Al has tainted his mind with stories of my abrupt U-turns for which he is cautious, rightfully so.
The first highlight of my tour was to take them down the historic railroad rich district of Ville Platte. Al's first question was, "What town is this?" which was good because I'm not very practiced at having an information hungry group along. He reminded me to lay the slab before building the house. We saw the old depot and discussed the possible and probable shell game that the local communities were playing amongst themselves. Several of our little towns have historic depots, but not their on. Lafayette has the Iota depot, Eunice has the Midland depot, and Ville Platte has the Elton depot. The Bunkie depot is the Bunkie depot only because it's big and made of brick. Step back Geraldo, this is not a railroad write. We were after 'rooms.
From Ville Platte we went up the Chicot State Park road which is a green snaking tunnel after the park entrance. We then headed east on La.106, stopping at the north landing where good hunting had been reported by Dr. D. Fontenot, DDS, a distant relative of Al's.
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For the Al admires in the reading audience, Al was wearing
a gray jump suit, augmented by slip on rough neck boots.
He has updated his hair style to a giant Mohawk-Afro which
seems to be slimming. The Mohawk-A is not original, Mark has
worn one for a while as it is considered fashionable among the folks
with which he hangs.
I cannot report on the room find as removing rooms from a state
park is illegal.
We were on to La.29, where we went north turning west on the Eola Rd to Eola, aptly named. That is where we'd do the main hunt. If you like creosote flavored rooms and the punch they pack, this is the place.
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After the hunt, Al demonstrated his retentive balancing
skills.
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Our next stop would be Bunkie. I've decided to do a page
on Bunkie, then one on Cheneyville, our next after the next
stop. I'll use this trip's shots on those pages since they are
impressive and improbable by most standards.
We slowly, and with some confusion, moved on to Bunkie. I've been familiar with Bunkie since I was 6. I, for 12 years would travel its main street, US 71, 8 to 10 times a year. It was a landmark on the South La. to Shreveport pilgrimage. Cheneyville and Bunkie were where my parents slowed to look for antiques. Cheneville was the first town to sell out, then Bunkie. I don't think there are any more antiques to sell in either place. Still, Bunkie has not fallen, as has Cheneyville, and it continues to display remnants of its greatness. One, in particular, I'll show you on the next page.
I brought Mark and Al into Bunkie from the south. I wanted them to see where the old T&P had entered Bunkie. That branch went all the way to Crowley at one time. I stopped in a safe place to explain the rail set up and its significance. I prepared myself for a question and answer session. Since there was no place to stop safely in the vicinity of the rails, I'll show them what they missed, which I'm sure is why there were no questions afterwords. Or, possibly the hunt back at Eola had slowed their responsiveness. There may have been a question. It may have occurred after we departed. Also, they are old and I overhead the word "nap" shared between them.
Mercy, this is a great picture. Sometimes the
camera sees so much more. It is also not
worried about being hit by a semi tractor. This
is looking south from US 71 in south Bunkie.
Turning around and looking toward the UP main line,
you see this, the junction of the north arm of the wye.
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This is looking south from the south wye. Rails and lumber
have been partners for a long time.
Turning around, this is the south wye meeting the UP main.
From there I brought them to where the T&P-Marksville
Branch began. Bunkie was a heck of a railroad town. I know some
stuff and drew on my strengths in trying to enlighten.
Again, there were no questions. I was good with that since
I don't know if I had any answers, not knowing as much as I
led on to know.
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I had been looking for the mill, below. I think it was gone.
The rails had gone right by those doors.
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My tours are different. I wonder if I could fill a Greyhound?
Maybe if I took them to the casino later and served free
Bloody Marys.
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I next stopped in front of the depot. It is such a grand
building, my group did not recognize it as a depot. I saw
their jaws drop. I really do need to hold a class on depot
identification. First, it might be depot if a caboose is next
to it. Second. It might be a depot if it is next to the tracks.
Third, If being by the tracks, and it has the town name on both
ends, it might be a depot.
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These are earlier pictures.
Looking south.
Obviously, some of these pictures are from a past visit.
I was too busy to take many new ones because I had been
constantly concerned about my guests ever since Eola.
Maybe this was an old theater. That's not important.
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Where my bike is located is important.
The cracks in the road are important.
Mark, this is the alley I showed you after we left the hotel.
Without a doubt it was a siding. Had it gone to the hotel?
Was it a past part of the T&P set up going south? That
is the Bailey Hotel which we'll visit on the next page in the
the background.
Here are few more shots around Bunkie.
A drugstore with neat mural.
A real service station.
Coke Bottling.
Another drugstore.
Methodist.
Denominations are easily identified.
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Mini Vicky.
Elizabethan.
Farm supply on north side of town over the rail overpass.
Though in Central La., the French connection persists.
You don't get more Cajun than Marksville.
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The United Nations has its winter home here. Get a grip
and ID those flags. If you don't know them, shame on you.
More later as we three retire to our hotel, talk to the genteel
proprietor who quietly explained, w/o emotion, his feelings
on the state of the country, state, parish, town and hotel.
I will plead with you to visit with him and save this place.
That next.
The Bailey would be our next stop. I'm inserting that page here.
Below is an assessment of the Bailey Hotel for The National Register of Historic Places. It would be our next stop in Bunkie. You can't browse Bunkie without checking out the Bailey. I think I'd over saturated my guest with railroad memorabilia and mushroom hunting. It was time for some Southern Comfort in a place dealing in very special rooms.
My use of the document below is to try to instill some interest in this building and to get you to stay there a night or more. By doing so, you may save it. If not, bricks will go for a buck a piece. We spoke to the owner for about 30 minutes. He expressed the plight of a small business man in today's changing social environment and super taxation. I don't believe he can survive much longer. I suggest staying and soaking up some of the Bailey's and surrounding history before it goes down like the rest of America under this administration. He's one of Obama's targets in wealth redistribution. Steal from the productive entrepreneur and give it to the unproductive parasite until there is no more to give, all the while creating a super dependent population to cheer on their leader for crumbs of benevolence when the destruction and pillaging are over.
The Bailey has seen its ups and downs. It is still elegant. If it slips, he will close the doors and sell the bricks. I have a feeling he will not let it be given to the forces which caused its downfall.
Below is its history and observations made by the NRHP representatives. Pictures and my comments will follow.
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The Bailey Hotel is a large, two story building with brick load-bearing walls. The hotel stands on
the corner of Magnolia and Walnut streets, a busy intersection one block from the main thoroughfare in the Avoyelles Parish town of Bunkie. Courthouse records indicate that the land intended for the hotel was purchased on January 15,1907, while a 1909 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map shows the completed building. Since construction likely began soon after site acquisition, a date of 1907 will be used for the purposes of this nomination. During the historic period the Italianate style hotel was enlarged and its porch and lobby facade received a Colonial Revival facelift (see below). Despite some non-historic alterations (mainly on the interior), the building remains eligible for National Register listing. The hotel’s unusual and distinctive shape is its most character-defining feature. This can best be appreciated through photos and the attached sketch map. The building wraps around Magnolia and Walnut streets, with a lobby entrance at the corner and a curved porch. Wings projecting forward from the main building mass are located at each street elevation. The Magnolia Street wing is original, although it appears to have been expanded toward the rear early in the historic period (as can be seen in changes in the second floor window treatment and the parapet height). The Walnut Street wing dates from sometime between 1923 and 1931 (per Sanborn maps). An original rear wing (see map) is not visible from the two streets.
As would be expected, most of the hotel is given over to guest rooms. Notable exceptions are
the lobby with a double staircase which rises from a common landing a few steps above the floor and the hotel’s original dining room, located in the rear wing.
The hotel’s single and paired windows with bold segmentally arched concrete hood molds mark it
as an example of the Italianate style (albeit a restrained one). The Walnut Street addition’s windows are identical copies of the paired windows on the older portion of the building. The structure also has two thick concrete belt courses. One is located along the line of the building’s watertable, the other on the level of the second floor. Both belt courses are formed by extending the windows’ sills until the extensions join those nearby. The building also exhibits two thin brick belt courses and the simply molded brick parapet mentioned above. A historic photograph shows that the original curving porch, surmounted by what was probably a metal canopy, was only one-story high. Unfortunately, the photograph is not clear enough to indicate what kind of columns, piers or poles supported the canopy; nor can the appearance of the original door be seen. The present two-story Colonial Revival porch (1941) features very slender colossal fluted columns with diminutive bases and capitals. These support a broad entablature, above which is a metal balustrade with the words “Bailey Hotel” worked into its design. The lobby’s present Colonial Revival style entrance (also 1941) has double doors contained within a surround
composed of fluted pilasters with necking and capitals, a full entablature, and a large arched wooden sunburst motif reminiscent of a transom.
The first floor of the Magnolia Street wing may have originally held guest rooms, but for many years the area served as the hotel owner’s quarters. In 1956 this space was gutted to create a large room to be used as a café. At that time glass block was used to close up an exterior door and several windows on the first floor, and this work broke the previously continuous line of the first floor belt course on the Magnolia Street wing’s facade. The hotel’s old kitchen was also expanded at this time (refer to 1956 addition shown on map). The interior experienced more alteration during the 1970s. As a result of plans to convert the hotel into a drug rehabilitation center, the second floor was gutted down to its brick and stud walls, and part of the first floor was gutted as well. Cancellation of this project stopped the demolition before it was completed. The hotel is now in the hands of new owners who are in the process of rehabilitating the building. To date, their work has included the following: a new roof, new wiring, major repairs to the plumbing, asbestos abatement, and the replacement of rotten structural members.
Assessment of Integrity
The Bailey is being nominated to the Register because it served as a focus of social and business life in Bunkie from its construction in 1907 up to and past the 50-year cutoff for significance (1949). During this period it evolved into its present exterior appearance, with an expansion in the 1920s and a porch/entrance facelift in 1941. Obviously patrons from the 1930s and ‘40s would recognize the old hotel should they return to Bunkie today, which is the litmus test for historical nominations. And patrons who knew the hotel in its earliest days would also recognize it because of its unusual and distinctive shape, as well as its prominently articulated Italianate windows. And while the interior has been compromised, the basic floorplan remains as does what was probably the hotel’s only notable interior feature – the lobby’s double staircase.
Significant Dates: 1907-1949
Architect/Builder: Unknown
Criterion A
The Bailey Hotel is locally significant in the areas of social and commercial history because of its role as a center of social and business activity in the Avoyelles Parish community of Bunkie. The Bailey served as the town’s principal hotel from its 1907 construction date until well after 1949, the Register’s fifty year cutoff. It continued to serve as a hostelry through July 1970.
As mentioned in Part 7, conveyance records in the Avoyelles Parish courthouse document that
the land for the hotel was purchased by widow Josephine I. Ernest on January 15, 1907. A Sanborn Fire Insurance Map clearly shows her building, known at that time as the Hotel Ernest, in place by 1909. At that time the new hotel had two competitors. A historic photograph records that one, known as the Carnahan, was a simple two-story frame building which appears to have been smaller than the Bailey.
Located approximately a block south of the Texas and Pacific Railroad Station, it was apparently used by railroad workers staying overnight in Bunkie. The second competitor was called the Southern. Also two stories tall but smaller than the Carnahan, it stood a little over a block from the latter and two blocks from the depot. Because newspapers covering early twentieth century events in Bunkie are not available until the 1920s, one can only surmise the impact which the Ernest had on the operation of the Carnahan and Southern. However, with its better facilities (including a public dining room) and its convenient site one block west of the depot, the Ernest likely caused financial headaches for the owners of the other facilities. The Southern had disappeared by 1923. Mrs. Ernest operated her hotel until 1918, when the building was sold at a sheriff’s sale for $6,500. (The reason she lost the building is unknown.) One month later R. Lee Bailey purchased the business for $7,250. The Bailey family would own and operate the hotel for the next forty years. By 1925 business was apparently so good that Bailey (now a town alderman) sold the hotel’s old furnishings and purchased new accouterments for the building. It may have been at this time that he built the north wing which Sanborn maps show was added between 1923 and 1931. Also in 1925 the hotel received an important endorsement when T. M. Callahan, editor of the Lafayette Dailey [sic] Advertiser, called it “. . .the leading hotel of this section, . . .” after a visit to the town. The renamed Bailey Hotel served as the focal point of Bunkie’s social life at least between 1925 (the first year for which newspaper articles and advertisements are available) and 1949 (the Register’s fifty year cutoff). Because it was the town’s major hotel from the time of its completion onward, one can assume it also played this role between 1907 and 1925. Although the Carnahan remained in business, elderly Bunkie residents interviewed for this nomination all agree that the Bailey was THE place to go. Because it had an attractive dining room which served three good meals a day, townspeople liked to meet there to socialize over lunch or dinner. One interviewee, who helped his father deliver wood to the hotel’s kitchen during the early years of the Great Depression, remembers that the dining room and kitchen were busy places even during that difficult time. The hotel made an excellent site for weddings, with the bride descending to the lobby via the staircase rather than walking down an aisle. Receptions and luncheons were held in the dining room. Sometimes newly married couples would set up housekeeping in one or two rooms of the Bailey after returning from their honeymoons. When businessman Bailey purchased a $3,000 “orchestrion” for the new movie theater he was building, he placed it in the hotel’s lobby until the movie house was complete. He then invited townspeople to visit the hotel for a demonstration of the instrument’s capabilities. The community’s Thursday Bridge Club appears to have met at the hotel for several years; and when a documentary movie about how to play bridge properly came to town, the hotel as well as the theater sold tickets to the event. According to another interviewee, who moved to Bunkie in 1920, the hotel played a special role during both World Wars by temporarily sheltering servicemen from nearby camps who were seeking weekend entertainment in Bunkie. During World War II the Baileys also operated an informal referral service for the soldiers by seeking (through newspaper advertisements) rooms in private homes whenever their facility was full. In addition to its social role, the Bailey also occupied an important place in the community’s business life. For example, it was such a well known landmark that local newspaper advertisements and articles used it as a reference point when describing the locations of other businesses and sites. In January 1925 Bunkie businessmen chose the Bailey to host an evening meeting organized to found a local Rotary Club. The ladies of the town also attended the event, which included dinner and entertainment as well as speeches on the origin and ethics of the organization. Thereafter, the club held its monthly meetings at the Bailey, again inviting the ladies whenever a gathering was to include a special guest speaker or other type of entertainment. The Bailey also hosted small conferences, such as the September 1925 meeting of presidents and secretaries of the state’s chambers of commerce. Such meetings brought additional revenue to the town. When owner Bailey decided his town needed a jewelry store and persuaded the Carter jewelry chain to operate it, he housed the shop in his hotel for several months until the new business’ own building could be remodeled. Attracted by the hotel’s good service, traveling salesmen and women also gave their business to the Bailey. The ladies (who handled cosmetics, imported gifts, and other items of interest to the town’s female population) often set up shop in the hotel’s sleeping rooms. Other guests -- professionals such as accountants and doctors who periodically visited the town because their services were not routinely provided there -- also conducted business in the Bailey’s rooms. The hotel’s staff sometimes assisted by making appointments and keeping track of their future schedules, while the local newspaper announced their presence and hours of availability. Perhaps the hotel’s most amusing guest was Professor Zanga, “Seer and Clairvoyant,” who spent a week at the Bailey in 1925 advising clients about their “troubles, problems, and business matters.” Although its business must have been reduced by the popularity of the automobile and the motels built to serve it (as well as the decline in railroad traffic caused by the auto and truck), the Bailey Hotel continued in operation well past World War II. In 1956 Lloyd Bailey, son of R. Lee Bailey, sold the building to Mr. and Mrs. Horace Guillot; it was they who remodeled the downstairs owner’s quarters into a
large café (see Part 7). They, in turn, sold the building in 1968. The new owner tried and failed to make the Bailey again viable as a hotel. As a result, the Guillots were forced to repossess the property. In 1970 they sold it to a general contractor who used the first floor as his office. His business also failed, at which point a local bank came into control of the building. The bank donated the structure to a drug rehabilitation program, but strong community opposition eventually stopped this project. The hotel then stood vacant for a number of years before being purchased by Mr. and Mrs. Paul Jones. This couple, in turn, sold the building to Thomas McNabb and William Elkhay, who are rehabilitating the structure for use as a hotel and reception center. McNabb is related to the Bailey family.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bunkie Record, 1925 - 1946; copies of pertinent pages in National Register file.
Eakin, Sue. Undated newspaper column concerning history of Bailey Hotel; copy in National Register file.
Historic photos of Bailey and Carnahan hotels, in La Commission des Avoyelles and Sue Eakin.
Avoyelles Parish . . . Crossroads of Louisiana Where All Cultures Meet. Baton Rouge: Moran
Publishing Company, 1981; copies in National Register file.
Interview with Lloyd Turner, October 22, 1997, Bunkie, Louisiana.
Interview with Mrs. Etta Tubre, October 22, 1997, Bunkie, Louisiana.
Interview with Mrs. Franklin Kyle, Sr., October 22, 1997, Bunkie, Louisiana.
Interview with Mrs. Horace Guillot, October 22, 1997, Bunkie, Louisiana.
Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps for Bunkie, Louisiana, 1909, 1923, 1931.
Site visit by National Register staff..
Obviously, some of these pictures were taken earlier.
Because of that, I was able to seem less like a Jap tourist.
We arrived. The place looked much the same. That's its strength.
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2008 visit:
It was a big night for a famous blues singer. I meant to get
her name. She had crossed paths with Guitar Slim and Elvis.
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Yes, they let us park out front.
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The place was quiet, the remainder of last night's visitors had just
departed.
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It was evident we were not at the Holiday Inn or Motel 6, 8, 10 or 12.
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The dining room radiated Central Louisiana's genteel days gone by.
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I forgot to ask about this.
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Here is the way to your room.
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An elderly gentleman sat on the porch. As you can see
Al has dumped the Grecian and gone au'natural.
He murmured that he'd sent himself a letter and was
waiting for it to arrive. I reminded him that it was
Sunday. His reply was, "Which"?
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Across the street is the post office. Sitting and waiting for
a letter on the Bailey's porch is not such a bad idea. We
joined Al and talked about letter sending and receiving
in Central Louisiana.
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This one is intended to get you off your tail and take the
little lady to some place elegant, like the Bailey, before it
is gone or she is gone looking for someone that will.
On to Cheneyville
I'd mentioned heading up to Cheneyville when we were talking with the owner of the Bailey Hotel. He'd said something about Civil War bullets or shrapnel in the front door of the very old Episcopal church there. I was familiar with the church but had never heard that story. We would have to check it out. Sitting on the porch of the Bentley was nice, but it was time to go or get a room.
You can travel 2 ways from Bunkie to Cheneyville. One is US 71 and another is by Shirley Plantation Road (La.1177) that rides along Bayou Boeuf. This area is as up front"Central Louisiana" as it gets. From large country churches and small field workers' homes to large plantations with "big houses" resplendent with all the Greek antebellum trappings, to small cottages, this is Cotton Louisiana though the crop is changed when financial considerations prevail. The ghosts of the Old South ride the breezes blowing across the fields, under the oaks and between the giant cedars.
It's a place where you can imagine hearing Pearl Bailey (no relation) singing "Summer Time". It's a place where the fictional portrayals of "Long Hot Summer" and "Steel Magnolias" wouldn't be fictional at all, but scenes from everyday life.
I once chased bayous and rivers. These are a few personal words about this area from a long ago memoir.
Revisiting visions of the past becomes more important as those visions become more distant.
In my youth, my family had to travel the length of the state to see our relatives. I learned the roads: US 61 from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, US 190, from Baton Rouge to its intersection with US71, west of Krotz Springs, US 71, from 190 to Alexandria, and La.1, or US 71, sometimes, from Alex (La. shorthand) to Shreveport. Extreme boredom would cause my father to alternate. Between comic books and throwing up, I watched the sides of the roads, always wishing I could get off this scar in my brain and explore down the little roads. I knew adventure and treasure were out there. What I didn't know was how close to that worn route those treasures would be.
The trips would only get interesting, to me, when we finally got into the hills of north La. We had always lived on flat land. The hills were different and like that part of Shreveport where my grandmothers both lived. You could skate, at speed, on Wilkinson Street.
Now, I am roaming those once hated flat lands that Bayou Boeuf and Cocodrie tie together. US 71, south of Alexandria, once considered an endless stretch of the trip, La.29, south of Bunkie, and La.182, south of Whiteville to Washington where the Cocodrie and Boeuf join to form Bayou Courtableu. This area defines a distinct region. It is a region of transition. Homes define the culture and the styles change gradually along these routes. It begins with very Central Louisiana, traditional midwestern farm houses, changing to the Cajun homes further south, marked by their exterior staircases to the attic. Large Greek Revival plantations are scattered throughout. In reality, there is no defining border between cultures and architecture, only a weighting from one group to another. Louisiana is the ultimate poorly stirred mixing bowl.
So here I go again up 71. If you are reading this little tale in expectation of twisting, thrilling travel. Sorry. If you want to see what I consider treasures, yes, a lot of rotting houses, slimy bayous, and graves, you're at the right place. I feel like I have to do it all before I can start on the hills. Those past visions do get much more interesting when revisited. And, those distant treasures seen as a blur from an un-air-conditioned '49 Dodge weren't so distant after all. In many cases they lay just a few feet away from what I consider Louisiana's other "Mother Road", US 71.
That was from "a while back".
As usual, I don't know how to present this. Let me get this "Mushroom Hunt" out of the way and then I'll pile on with Cheneyville.
The Hunt Continues
From the hotel I brought the fellas up 1177 which is the west route up the Boeuf. I told one of them, when asked what bayou that was, "If you see a bayou, call it the Boeuf because it twists around all over this alluvial plain and you'll probably be right".
The bayou.
Not a Greek, but maybe antebellum.
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This is the country church I had in mind. It was letting
out when we passed by. I can't describe the scene.
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One of the freedoms which I hold dearest is my freedom to
change my mind. I think that, to avoid redundancies, I'll move
forward with hometown lady, Mary Marks Soloman's pamphlet
on Cheneville and fill in between her paragraphs with pictures
and my comments.
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{Photos needed}
Below the railroad is mentioned. I spent some time
in Cheneyville trying to figure out how the Southern
Pacific met the Texas & Pacific. It was a hot long
afternoon similar to this one.
I was heartened by torn up ties. I could lead you to believe
these were from the SP, not so. Still, they were a mood
setter.
Before the hunt on the south side of the tracks began, I
looked up and down the north side. I couldn't see the connection
from that side. The high weeds, below on the right, marked
the spot.
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The truth lay beyond the rails.
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Looking north.
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Looking south.
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Then I went into the farmer's field. The GPS said I was there.
The farmer knew they were there, also.
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The next stops would be Haas and Eola to the south.
I'll pop in a few pictures of Front Street, US 71.
Some are older, some are more recent. Some depict
how Cheneyville has deteriorated quickly in the last
of the 20th and the beginning of the 21'st Centuries.
Her most recent loss has been the parish jail, once a school.
There is not much left alive in Cheneyville.
Below was found where she describes "Old Town" as being.
This may or not be of what she is speaking.
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Not all the homes were in bad shape.
This is the present Methodist Church. That is my guess
based on its design.
Here's the old dominoes pavilion on Front Street near
the railroad tracks. Once it was a place where old men
played the day away.
Now it's not.
This shot was taken from there.
A lovely place.
Old businesses.
This is one of the once busy antique shops.
This was once a home near the tracks.
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This picture was taken on the mushroom ride. It is not
my best. Below it will be better.
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I had mistaken this tour sign for the Northup Tour.
The Bennett places were on the Northup Tour, named
for a man who had been kidnapped into slavery in these
regions. Much more on that later.
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Of course that's the Boeuf.
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'
Notice the use of the word, "Planter". He was not a farmer.
Farmers are workers. The "Planter" may have dallied in
the soil from time to time, but it was not his job. He had
overseers for that.
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This house sat nearby. I suspect it had something to do
with the cemetery.
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The author is black, thus the familiarity with the historical
places of interest to that community.
What was the "Alliance"?
{Photos needed}
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I was in the Bennett Store a while back. It was the last
opportunity to visit it while it was there. I wonder if the
ghosts made the trip?
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Now the store and house are saved, elsewhere.
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This is the way it looked in the state I found it on US 71.
I was afraid to go upstairs. Shame on me.
Looking out the side. That is a kitchen in green.
Across the highway was the family home.
The Cheneyville Horror?
In response to my long ago write, a reader, Ms. June wrote,
" Your site and photos brought back so many good
memories of my childhood in Cheneyville, Louisiana.
I wanted to give you the story about the house and
store on page 2 of your Alex to Washington trip.
That's the old Bennett house and store. My friend
Veronica grew up in that house. She once told me
that the house had at one point been a funeral
parlor. She may have just said that to scare me
though!" [The store and house are two different
places.
"The store was vacant and we played in there often.
Someone found a box of receipts including one from
1817 (when the store was new) that showed James
Bowie shopped there; he invented his knife nearby
and once owned a lot in Cheneyville".
"We never went up those stairs either! Ezra Bennett
came from New York and bought the house and store
in the 1830s. He is buried in the graveyard over
by Trinity Episcopal Church. I'm so sad to see the
house and store are in ruins now. I wish someone
would restore them".
"Thanks for the photos and the trip back in time. :) "
Ms. June, you got your wish.
Here's a bit about Bowie's presence in the area.
"In his teens James Bowie worked in Avoyelles and Rapides parishes, where he floated lumber to market. He invested in property on the Bayou Boeuf and traded in 1817–18 at what is now Bennett's Store, south of Cheneyville. He was fond of hunting and fishing, and family tradition says that he caught and rode wild horses, rode alligators, and trapped bears. When grown, Bowie was described by his brother John as "a stout, rather raw-boned man, of six feet height, weighed 180 pounds." He had light-colored hair, keen gray eyes "rather deep set in his head," a fair complexion, and high cheek-bones. Bowie had an "open, frank disposition," but when aroused by an insult, his anger was terrible. During the War of 1812, James and Rezin joined the Second Division, Consolidated, a unit that contained the Seventeenth through Nineteenth regiments, drawn from Avoyelles, Rapides, Natchitoches, Catahoula, and Ouachita parishes. In January 1815, according to family records, the brothers were on their way to join Andrew Jackson's forces at New Orleans when the war ended".
From Here
Returning to Mary Soloman's pamphlet:
Cheneyville was joined in the anti lottery movement.
This is a little boring but what seems important to
me is the list of prominent people in the community.
That does sound a little familiar. These guys were T Party
People. They saw what crooked government was doing
and found it "repugnant to ur state pride, an insult to
our manhood, abhorrent to public morality, contrary to
our State Constitution, consequently undemocratic and
contrary to all Democratic principles".
I am sure that if you crossed any of these gents, a duel
on the sandbar would be your next invitation.
They saw themselves as leaders.
Of interest here is the mention of the Town Talk, still
Alexandria's newspaper.
The members:
Below is a list of pictures I did not get from my source.
This is the closing picture from the ride. After the Anti-
Lottery call to arms, it's a bit weak. What you have here
is two old guys who can't figure out where to park their
bikes. Possibly it was the heat to offer them an excuse
I took 20 more pictures as they moved around the field.
I'll spare you those.
More below now that the ride is safely over.
Safe for you and I.
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Remember I mentioned the Northup Tour back at Trinity
Episcopal. He landed in this area and kept a diary of
his time spent as a slave. It is a picture through another
lens of how things were.
Below are excerpts from Northup's odyssey. Be aware, it
is written by a man whose freedom was stolen. I have
not read the whole book. I copied it and can send it to
you. It is out of copyright.
I am assuming the tour is named after him. It now
longer exists as I've found nothing about it.
I searched the book using "Boeuf" and "Cheneyville "
as key words. I came up with these passages. I'll let
you read them in peace.
"I bade farewell to my good friends at the opening, and departed with my new master Tibeats. We went down to the plantation on Bayou Boeuf, distant twenty-seven miles from the Pine Woods, to complete the unfinished contract. Bayou Boeuf is a sluggish, winding stream—one of those stagnant bodies of water common in that region, setting back from Red River. It stretches from a point not far from Alexandra, in a south-easterly direction, and following its tortuous course, is more than fifty miles in length. Large cotton and sugar plantations line each shore, extending back to the borders of interminable swamps. It is alive with alligators, rendering it unsafe for swine, or unthinking slave children to stroll along its banks. Upon a bend in this bayou, a short distance from Cheneyville, was situated the plantation of Madam Ford—her brother, Peter Tanner, a great landholder, living on the opposite side".
"He had been a driver and overseer in his younger years, but at this time was in possession of a plantation on Bayou Huff Power, two and a half miles from Holmesville, (on the map) eighteen from Marksville, and twelve from Cheneyville. It belonged to Joseph B. Roberts, his wife's uncle, and was leased by Epps. His principal business was raising cotton, and inasmuch as some may read this book who have never seen a cotton field, a description of the manner of its culture may not be out of place".
I know I've seen an "Epps, Louisiana". He was a cruel drunk from Northup's description.
"Mistress Epps was not naturally such an evil woman, after all. She was possessed of the devil, jealousy, it is true, but aside from that, there was much in her character to admire. Her father, Mr. Roberts, resided in Cheneyville, an influential and honorable man, and as much respected throughout the parish as any other citizen. She had been well educated at some institution this side of the Mississippi; was beautiful, accomplished, and usually good-humored. She was kind to all of us but Patsy—frequently, in the absence of her husband, sending out to us some little
dainty from her own table. In other situations—in a different society from that which exists on the shores of Bayou Boeuf, she would have been pronounced an elegant and fascinating woman. An ill wind it was that blew her into the arms of Epps".
"In the course of a fortnight, four black girls came down from Eldret's plantation—Charlotte, Fanny, Cresia and Nelly. They were all large and stout. Axes were put into their hands, and they were sent with Sam and myself to cut trees. They were excellent choppers, the largest oak or sycamore standing but a brief season before their heavy and well-directed blows. At piling logs, they were equal to any man. There are lumberwomen as well as lumbermen in the forests of the South. In fact, in the region of the Bayou Boeuf they perform their share of all the labor required on the plantation. They plough, drag, drive team, clear wild lands, work on the highway, and so forth. Some planters, owning large cotton and sugar plantations, have none other than the labor of slave women. Such an one is Jim Burns, who lives on the north shore of the bayou, opposite the plantation of John Fogaman".
"There are no inns along the highways in that portion of the State where I sojourned. I was wholly destitute of money, neither did I carry any provisions, on my journey from the Big Cane to Bayou Boeuf; nevertheless, with his pass in his hand, a slave need never suffer from hunger or from thirst. It is only necessary to present it to the master or overseer of a plantation, and state his wants, when he will be sent round to the kitchen and provided with food or shelter, as the case may require. The traveler stops at any house and calls for a meal with as much freedom as if it was a public tavern. It is the general custom of the country. Whatever their faults may be, it is certain the inhabitants along Red River, and around the bayous in the interior of Louisiana are not wanting in hospitality".
Aren't you guys done yet?