Louisiana

They ran aground on November 4. It hardly seemed to matter at that point, as the food had run out days before. Even Ti-jacques (as they had come to call the youngest of their clan) was no longer as content as he had been, for Marie's milk had indeed dried up, and there was nothing for her or her husband to give him to eat, either, and no way to explain the situation to him. And so he cried, until he'd expended all his energy, and then he whimpered, and finally he mostly slept until the great rumbling caused him to cry out as much as the others.

They were at an outpost known as Balize, at the mouth of the Mississippi river. It was not New Orleans, not yet, but it was at long last Louisiana.

There was waiting, then, while the ship was repaired, but there was also restocking of food and other necessary items, and many passengers ate so much they made themselves sick, but they were merry about it just the same because, in their experience, it was better to be sick from too much food than not enough.

On December 3, then, La Ville d'Archangel did finally reach New Orleans.

The city was no longer property of France, though many French had settled there; now the Spanish held the city, and that made it safe enough from the bloody reach of the Revolutionaries. Jacques Muis d'Entremont had seen the gathering clouds of a coming storm in his homeland, and in response he had removed his family from any potential strikes of lightning.

Louis would have happily stayed in the city, which bustled with an interesting mix of people--varying shades of skin, a cacophony of accents, and yet so many shared the same warm smile of greeting, even when passing a stranger in the streets. The buildings, too, were a marvel, particularly the fine cathedral; who knew such provincials would have the wherewithal to create such a fine house of worship in this savage territory?

But their step-father had other plans. They would go out to Ascension, where there was land enough and less crowding, and build a house and work the land.