During the rage for speculation in lands, some four or five years ago, I was travelling in a newly settled portion of Louisiana, for the purpose of examining a tract I had already purchased.

One day about the middle of the afternoon, I reached a neighborhood of squatters, and hearing that there was to be a wedding that night, not far distant, (always ready for a frolic of that kind and being assured that an invitation was entirely unnecessary, and superfluous in “those diggins,”) I concluded to stop and attend. Even at that early hour, I found a large party equipped, and preparing to start ; it being but a short walk, I joined them.

We soon arrived at our place of destination, a small log cabin, with but two rooms ; the first, which we entered, seemed to serve all the purposes of kitchen, dining-room, bed-room, and parlour. The other, a small back room, was used at this time as the dressing-room of the bride and her attendants.

About sundown, the bridegroom, (who had been to a neighboring town, twenty-five miles distant, to procure necessaries for the entertainment,) returned, bringing with him two or three pounds of coffee, the same quantity of sugar, some flour in a pillow case, and a jug of whiskey. Relieving himself of his load, he said, (addressing the young women of the party,) “Here gals, here’s the doins! Go to cookin.” He then retired to a cane-brake near by, to dress.

While some were preparing the supper, others were amusing themselves in relating “Big Bar” stories, and deeply engaged discussing the merits of the “Bald face,” [1] and all exceedingly impatient for the performance of the ceremony. It began to grow late, and one or two of the party ventured to hint to the “Squire” that it was time he should “tie the knot.”

Considerable bustle and confusion was now heard to proceed from the little back room ; excitement was at its highest pitch, each one trying to get the first peep at the bride. At this juncture, an old woman stept out, and taking the bridegroom by the arm, drew him into a corner, and speaking in a low voice, but sufficiently audible to be heard by those around, said to him, “Captin, you knows how Lize’s in a curous sitivation, an she’s a-gwyne to be konfined to-night.”

“The h--ll she is!” says the Capt. “Well, taint no use to cry ‘bout spilt-milk.”

“Hadn’t I better tell the Squire?”

“Yes, I was a-thinkin o’that.”

The “Squire” was duly notified, and agreeable to request, informed the company, that owing to an accident in the family, the wedding would be postponed two weeks.

“Well gints,” says the Capt., “it can’t hinder us from drinkin, so we mout as well finish the jug.”

After taking two or three drinks, and consoling the “Captin,” the company left.

I afterwards ascertained, that the wedding actually took place in just two weeks.

Your friend, COTTON WOOD.

RODNEY, Miss., Oct. 29, 1845.


Source: New York Spirit of the Times, 15.39 (22 November 1845): 458. University of Virginia Alderman Library.

Erin Bartels prepared this typescript. [1] Original text reads “B ald face.”

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