George Joseph Vining:
An Account of His Life

Chapter Two

I remember shipping on a packet steamer from Bristol to Liverpool, stopping at Severn River Swansea, at which place my Uncle John Prediger left us to return to his home. In comparing notes, Bro Tom said he saw his Uncle's coat tails flying up the ladder as the boat was pushing off.

At Liverpool we took a sail vessel named the 'Isaac Allerton'. We had steerage passage and it was a conglomeration English, Irish, Scotch pothers, but I do not think we were crowded. That was my first experience on sea sickness. It is describable especially if you have it bad it does not serve all alike some are better prepared some constitutional but you soon get the "I don't care place" as regards surroundings and what people think. One of the best descriptions I ever heard was the lady who was afraid she was going to die, a short time later she was afraid she wouldn't die.

I think we were from three to four months on the voyage from Liverpool to New Orleans. I suppose it was very tiresome and monotonous to our elders, but we children enjoyed it greatly would have much more, but young as we were could see anxiety etc. on our Aunt and Mother's face.

Several incidents are worthy of mention. 1st one or two heavy storms, and a storm at sea is not like one on land. I remember their the sailors running up the rigging to get the sails in or tied round masts. Fanny --Fannie-- and I were running and playing on the deck, when a huge wave came over the ship and wetted us both and all had to go below. We ran short of water, and faces looked more serious. I think our allowance was one pint a day. The first place I saw or tasted Mol molasses. I was passing the cook's cubby hole one day and I suppose, said something he didn't like and he picked me up by the back of my neck and stuck his dirty old hand in the vessel full of Blk Mol --black molasses-- and stuck that into my mouth!

Then again we lay becalmed for days in a hot June sun. One instance I must record of an Irish family whose bedding was all thrown over board because of vermin and Oh! how she did carry on about it. I can almost hear her lamenting yet. Last but not least of our perils was this We got news of a pirate right between us and our destination, do not rightly know-how but I know our lights were put out, everything and everybody was commanded to silence, and there was some praying done. I think we saw their lights, but we had none. We were, I suppose, about 24 hours from NA --New Orleans.

We got there on the 4th of July 1843 and sent in word of the pirate. Remember as we lay at anchor in dock at NA --New Orleans a large fine "Man of War" (that was the name then) passes by us, right close, the rigging was full of men, flags flying, cheering us -- going out in search of the pirate. I never heard as to the result.

Remember very distinctly the many different impressions to proved so lasting made to my mind. Tropical and quaint fruits. Animals, birds, articles of food -- the smell of a watermelon so surprised --sickened-- me that I could hardly stay in a room when one was cut for many years later. Bananas, pears and figs were o.k.. I saw a dry ear of corn in the school house in England and when told it was a staple article of diet I wondered what kind of people they could be to eat such stuff. Query: Can you tell me why they call it "roasting --rosten-- ears"? Because one name for it is Indian corn and they used to roasted in the shuck. The birds was of great interest to me especially doves, parrotts and paraquetes, -- squirrels too were very interesting to my child mind.

We went up the Mississippi and Arkansas rivers in a steamboat named, the Trident: the trip was full of interest. Big fish jumping out of the water. Alligators sunning on logs and sand bars, it was my first acquaintance with mosquitoes -- they generally called those in the lower Miss. gallon nippers from their size and verocity.

I heard an anecdote told in the beach --on the boat-- that supposing it true left a long impression on me. A man made a bet that he could bare his back and let the gallon nippers bit him for 5 minutes -- the bet was taken -- while in the excruciating position, another man stuck the live end of a cigar to his back -- he stood it, won his bet, but I think serious trouble came afterwards.

The steam boat liquor bars and the gaming tables were wonderful things to me. At the mouth of the Arkansas River was the City of Napoleon. Just above it a town of some importance called The Post. Much of more importance than Pine Bluff. My idea for years after was that it was a large post in the ground. A long time before I knew what a military post was, the name is still being used up to the time of the War.

I have reasons for not forgetting Napoleon -- it was an overflow town -- the sidewalks many feet above the earth -- big levy in front -- every house on Front Street a salon or eating house. I stopped there one night when I was a grown man on way to Louisville to buy goods. It was a common saying, "The shortest way to Hell was to go by Napoleon" -- it was so wicked.

Napoleon was also comically mentioned in one of Mark Twain's books, the story goes that through the confession of some dying man who had led a lawless, criminal life, for some kind act by --of-- Twain, gave him a great secret. How that a band of whom he was the last, had buried enormous treasure in an old stable at Napoleon. In an evil hour, Twain feeling very good about --feeling the burden of the secret, and also wanting to investigate and not doubt feeling some what elated by such knowledge,-- and the burden being heavy in and for the consideration, he told his best friend or chum. It wasn't long till feeling --before the feeling of trusting friendship-- changed and they became suspicious of each other, watching one another's motions motives until it became unbearable, but they patched up a semblance of peace, and agreed on the day to go down and get the treasure; on the way down the quarreled again and again as to the divisions of the treasure, they got so far as to arrange for a duel to the death. Standing the width of the boat apart, their backs to the river so that if a man was hit he would fall back into the river -- they had taken their places when Twain had thought. It will was only be an hour or two till we they would get there, why not wait and do the killing after we find treasure perhaps both of us have some curiosity. Sure enough they waited. When they got to Napoleon and passed the place where Napoleon once stood there was nothing but one old mud chimney and that ready to cave in marked the place which was once the city of Napoleon. So, in short order they shook hands and became moral friends again. "Moral"? Napoleon has long been off the maps.