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Down
On The Levee,
Waitin' for the
American Queen
Sliding
through the mist, the American Queen seems to be floating
out of a Currier and Ives lithograph. The boat looks like a many-layered
tribute to the scroll saw, but it's only a year old and reputedly
the biggest river steamer ever built. Like America's classic river
boats, it's pushed by the early19th century's cutting-edge propulsion
system: a functional paddle wheel turned by a genuine steam engine.
Back in the
era of the Robert E. Lee and Natchez, such boats took
passengers up and down the river in Victorian elegance. It's the
1990s, but barges are still toted and bales still lifted along the
Mississippi-and a very few steamboats still adorn the river.
The American
Queen is newest, and possibly plushest, of this small fleet.
The boat stretches 418 feet long and stands just over 109 feet from
waterline to the crown points atop its two smokestacks. A 30-foot
paddle wheel propels it and its 436 passengers at a leisurely eight
miles per hour average speed.
Considerable
thought and expense have gone into things great and small on this
boat, and it shows. The temptation to indulge in kitsch or hokiness,
so often given in to with condescending evocations of the good old
days, has been resisted completely aboard the American Queen.
High quality
and taste are evident in both the interior architecture (duplicated
in part from older boats) and furnishings. Public rooms tend to
dark wood panelling, floral carpets, lots of stained glass, antique
and high-quality antique reproduction furniture. Staterooms we saw
had antique furnishings except for the new beds. The effect isn't
really museum-like; rather it's akin to a river-going Ritz-Carlton.
But Ritz-Carltons
can't deliver you practically to a Civil War battlefield, the front
doors of antebellum mansions, or the main streets of historic towns.
In the old days, steamboats tended to stop everywhere, and the
American Queen renews that tradition.
On our cruise
from New Orleans to Vicksburg and back, the boat stopped at a variety
of spots (sometimes by the old-time and appealingly casual means
of simply pulling up to the grassy river bank and lowering the gangplank)
and offered an array of shore tours designed to give passengers
a taste of the Old South. Organized tours get you to the sights
efficiently, or you can stroll around on your own, or both.
Vicksburg is
an especially good place to do both. The Civil War looms large here;
Ulysses Grant made his name as a general at Vicksburg, but on first
acquaintance, the town doesn't look like a place you'd describe
as "The Gibraltar of the West" or that would be called
"the key" by Abraham Lincoln. In the spring of 1863 it
was the key to splitting the Confederacy and gaining control of
the Mississippi. On July 4, Confederate forces surrendered after
a lot of fighting. This, coupled with the South's simultaneous loss
at Gettysburg, left little doubt about how the war would end.
The town remains
somewhat squeezed between river and battlefield, now the big Vicksburg
National Military Park. A Civil War buff could spend many days in
this park. Its 1,800 acres are strewn with cannons, memorials, and
signs detailing who did what when. Buses take you from the boat
for a good, if too brief, overview and to the excellent museum and
the remains of an ironclad warship sunk during the war and raised
in the 1960s.
You'll have
time for a leisurely look at the town, too. That prominent clock
tower is the Old Court House Museum. It's a good-size establishment
full of steamboating and southern life memorabilia. At least stop
in at the drugstore (behind the cannon) for a look at its large,
informally presented gun collection. And try the many antique shops
for a relatively inexpensive piece of the Civil War. Minié
balls are only $2.
All along the
cruise, restored, museum-like pre-Civil War homes abound. Many are
open for visitors; all we visited were worthwhile, but a few stood
out, among them St. Francisville's Rosedown.
Hundreds of
slaves once worked this 1835 plantation's 10,000 acres. Rosedown
is unusual in having about 85 percent of its original furnishings,
including a suite of bedroom furniture bought by an unduly optimistic
Henry Clay supporter for the Great Man to use in the White House.
Clay seems to have been a prized houseguest along the river; the
number of places he is alleged to have slept brings George Washington
to mind.
This is Audubon
country, too. The balconies along each of the ship's decks occasionally
bristled with field glasses although the only birds in real evidence
on our trip were ducks. Perhaps this is why Rosedown has one of
his rare oil portraits of a human instead of a bird.
Another stop,
Natchez, is particularly rich in antebellum homes. While Vicksburg
withstood a 47-day seige before surrendering, Natchez surrendered
shortly after the Union navy arrived. Spared wartime destruction,
it now has some 600 antebellum buildings, many of them restored
homes.
Audubon lived
in Natchez for a time, and, not surprisingly, Henry Clay was a frequent
guest, especially at the 1830s mansion called Devereux. It's frequently
among the tour options. But so are many other equally impressive
homes, most of which can conjure in the irreverent mind an image
of Carol Burnett descending the grand staircase while wearing a
gown with the curtain rod still attached. In some of the homes,
current residents become the tour guides. It's all redolent of Spanish
moss hanging from live oaks and magnolia-scented speech.
Try to see Longwood,
the jumbo octagonal mansion started just before the war but never
finished. It's often on the tour list and among the most famous
(and eccentric) of the southern showplaces.
Things aren't
quite so mint julepy at Baton Rouge. The boat ties up downtown,
beside a collection of government buildings. The old capitol (now
a museum) is a 19th century Gothic creation widely derided as ugly
in its time. Now it looks agreeably quaint in contrast to the nearby
collection of mid-20th century architectural misfortunes that only
a bureaucracy would perpetrate. Much of Baton Rouge's downtown life
has moved to the malls, so it's best to try one of the organized
tours here.
We enjoyed the
"Cajun Heritage" tour. Cajuns are descended from French
Canadians ousted from their colony (Acadia, now Nova Scotia) by
the British in the 1700s. Many of them settled in bayou country
and evolved distinct customs, way of speaking, and cuisine.
An hour's bus
ride takes you to a road house on stilts over a bayou in what appears
to be good-old-boy country-Spanish moss all over the place, violin-accordion-guitar
band on the porch, pickups parked in the dirt lot. It was reminiscent
of the party scene in "The Big Easy."
Many were the
Huey Long stories spun within. There also were opportunities to
try Cajun food (such as alligator), learn a Cajun dance, hear a
lot of Cajun accent (from bayou versions of "Bert and I"
types), and generally have an easy good time in the sort of place
very few of the steamboat passengers would venture on their own
on a dare.
Not far away
is perhaps the most famous of Southern mansions, Oak Alley. One
of the favorite 18th century gardening schemes locally appears to
have been planting parallel rows of oak trees along the front drive.
It takes patience, but eventually the trees meet overhead to form
a jumbo tunnel to your heirs' porch. One of the best of the few
remaining is Oak Alley-the very place that Louis Philippe of France
visited and Tom Cruise filmed "Interview with a Vampire."
This must be
the most photographed of all the plantations. Picture opportunities
are the greater when the gleaming white gingerbread American
Queen parks right in front of it. All this down-on-the-levee
ambience is enhanced further by the prospect of mint juleps, for
sale on the mansion's back porch ($4.25 for the family size). They're
two parts bourbon and one part "homemade mint syrup" over
crushed ice; people with an alcoholic sweet tooth are best attuned
to such pleasures.
The American
Queen is one of three paddlewheelers operated by the Delta Queen
Steamboat Company. Their Delta Queen is a more intimate boat. It
was built in 1927 and for many years made nighttime runs between
San Francisco and Sacramento. The recently refurbished Mississippi
Queen, built in 1976, approaches the American Queen in size.
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If
you’re going...
AAA
Travel Agency can supply information on American Queen
and other Mississippi cruises and make all arrangements.
Ask about special discounts for AAA members, and about
free air-fare packages offered for early bookings. For
a brochure describing these cruises, contact AAA Travel
or call the Delta Queen Steamboat Company at (800) 543-1949.
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There is a variety
of themed cruises. Many begin at New Orleans, and others originate
in Cincinnati, Little Rock, St. Louis, Memphis, Nashville, or another
river port. Cruise themes include "Dixie Fest," "Old-Fashioned
Holidays/Country Christmas," "Big Band Vacations,"
"Fall Foliage," "Great American Performers,"
"Civil War," and others. Rivers include the Mississippi,
Ohio, Cumberland, Tennessee, and Arkansas. We took an "Old
South" inaugural run.
Our fellow passengers
were a congenial bunch-the average age probably was around 60. World
War II stories figured in more than a few conversations, perhaps
in part inspired by the copy of Reminisce magazine everyone found
on his night stand.
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