g friends and partly enemies. The waters about the Bahamas
and the Greater and Lesser Antilles were fields for the movements of
hostile fleets, corsairs, and privateers. Yet the writer of this letter
was tempted to run the gauntlet of these perils, expecting, if all went
well, to arrive in Louisiana in midsummer.

"How many times," says the memorandum of her brother's now aged
great-granddaughter,--"How many times during my childhood has been told me
the story of my aunt Louise. It was not until several years after the
death of my grandmother that, on examining the contents of the basket
which she had given me, I found at the bottom of a little black-silk bag
the letter written by my grand-aunt to her brother, my own ancestor.
Frankly, I doubt that my grandmother had intended to give it to me, so
highly did she prize it, though it was very difficult to read. The
orthography is perfect; the difficulty is all owing to the paper and,
moreover, to the situation of the poor wounded sufferer." It is in French:

_To my brother mister Pierre Bossier. In the parish[3] of St. James._

Fort Latourette, The 5 August, 1782.

My Good Dear Brother: Ah! how shall I tell you the frightful position in
which I am placed! I would that I were dead! I seem to be the prey of a
horrible nightmare! O Pierre! my brother! hasten with all speed to me.
When you left Germany, your little sister was a blooming girl, very
beautiful in your eyes, very happy! and to-day! ah! to-day, my brother,
come see for yourself.

After having received your letter, not only my husband and I decided to
leave our village and go to join you, but twelve of our friends united
with us, and on the 10 May, 1782, we quitted Strasbourg on the little
vessel North Star [Etoile du Nord],[4] which set sail for New Orleans,
where you had promised to come to meet us. Let me tell you the names of my
fellow-travelers. O brother! what courage I need to write this account:
first my husband, Leonard Cheval, and my son Pierre, poor little angel who
was not yet two years old! Fritz Newman, his wife Nina, and their three
children; Irwin Vizey; William Hugo, his wife, and their little daughter;
Jacques Lewis, his daughter, and their son Henry. We were full of hope: We
hoped to find fortune in this new country of which you spoke with so much
enthusiasm. How in that moment did I bless my parents and you my brother,
for the education you had procured me. You know how good a musician my
Leo