Year: 1878

v
our beautiful South, and God only
knows how many more there will be be-
fore the Angel of Death stays his hand.
At the threshold of each one of these
broken homes we stand in spirit with
reverent heart and uncovered head and
would fain speak some word of comfort
to the broken heart within, but there is
one broken home in particular, the
home of our uncle, Mr.. Jacob Poitevent,
OF Grenada, Miss, at whose threshold
we linger longest and most sadly. Only
short while ago there was no home in
Grenada so beautiful and happy, so rich
in love and contentment and all that
makes home sacred, and nowhere is
naught left but the desolate walls!
Father and mother and one child dead,
another feebly convalescing and the
other members of the household heart
broken and scattered. -" 4


When the fever became epidemic in
Grenada, Mr.. Poitevent made prepara-
tions to move his family into the coun-
try; three of his children were sent out
and his wife and remaining children
were to follow the next day. .4,,


Fatal. delay. when every breath of air
that floated above doomed Grenada was
poison. Before the morning came love-
ly cousin Mollie, who had been nursing
a sick friend, was delirious with fever.
and the noise and hustle of departure
gave place to hushed voices and soft
footsteps, and alas, in few days more,
to the wall of mourning, for Mellie
Poitevent, one of the loveliest maidens
of Grenada, and one of the sweetest and
most affectionate daughters, was dead


Alas! in such evil days as these, when
plague and pestilence are holding carni-
val in our midst, there is but little time
to mourn our dead. Scarcely had the
bereaved parents pressed farewell kiss
on the cold lips of their dead daughter,
before another was battling for life with
the inexorable fend of fever. 1t was
then that our uncle wrote to sister in
Sardis, Miss: "Mollie is dead, and
Ora, we fear, will soon follow her; our
family physician is dead; our neighbors
all dead, or moved out of town; no
nurse or help of any kind to be had for
love or money. l am doing the cook
Pray for us.''


The next news we had from our dear
ones in Grenada came flashing over the
wires:


"Mr and Mrs. Poitevent both dead;
Ora convalescent. -t ,.


Then followed dreary days and weeks
of waiting, but nothing farther could be
learned except that Ora, the only one
left in the house, poor child, had good
nurse from this city and was attended
by DIR. Stone.


After awhile there came feeble lit
tie note from the sick girl: "They are.
all dead but me- I knew when father
and mother died, but was too sick to
kiss them goodbye. l am better, and
have kind nurse; but oh, so few ever
recover that l may relapse and follow
the others YETI


All, what an agony of dread and lone
illness that poor sick girl must have suf-
fered during those slow hours of conva-
lescence, with no one out strangers to
dry her tears and administer to her
wants; but her sufferings could not
have been greater than the agony of
suspense endured by the absent brother
and sisters, who could hold no commu-
nication with the stricken town. One
of these recently wrote, " Ora has come
out to us, but so weak that l am jealous
of every breath that fans her white
cheek. Mother was sick in the
same room with Ora, father in the ad-
| Joining room The Rev. Mr.. McCrack-
en- prayed with mother before she died,
and when asked by that holy man of
God if she had last message to leave,
she answered, Tell my son to be a good
boy and meet me in heaven Then,
turning her face towards Ora's bed, she
said, kiss all my children for me, and
tell your dear father goodbye for lit
tie while


"Mother died on the 9th of August
and father on the 28th. Fathers nurse
thought that he might recover and did
not tell him of mothers death; he knew
nothing of il until he met her in heaven.
OF fathers last moments we knew moth
ing; we only know that he was always
prepared for death, and if he was con-
scious, felt no fear. All of our clothes,
beds and bedding have been burnt, and
as we hear that the doors of the house
are wide open, no doubt the table serv.
ice has been stolen, as, well as the fur
| ulluEc. w u6H COlu Wcdtucl COhCS We
are going back home, if it can be called
home where there is no father nor moth
er-nothing but empty walls"


And this is all we know of the deatl
of that devoted couple, Jacob and Mary
Poitevent! but of the Life they led to
gether, we know every thing that il


beautiful, true and pure. The husband


"a thorough Southern gentleman, i


every sense of the word, known ant
honored far and wide for his integrity
and beloved for his warm heart an


nuiat Chr;rtian rirtuas The Wifa-