Steamboating on the Mississippi River Sternwheelers

Cruising the Mississippi River creates a romantic image of 19th Century Americana, reminiscent of Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi.

Especially on board a steam-powered paddlewheeler, such as the legendary Delta Queen.

Growing up in Kentucky not far from the confluence of the Tennessee, Cumberland, Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, I dreamed about someday traveling down the Mississippi River on a riverboat.

Later, I lived in a Minnesota river town on the banks of the Upper Mississippi, and now I’m working on a novel that features a paddlewheel tourboat on an Iowa lake. I still have not ridden on the Delta Queen, but I have had the opportunity to take a short cruise on a boat with a paddlewheel.

For some reason, watching the paddles spinning through the water fascinates me. The paddlewheel propels the boat forward (or backward when necessary), but what powers the huge wheel to create the motion?

Ben Campbell steamship at landing about 1850, image restored from daguerreotype. Library of Congress archives

Ben Campbell steamship at landing about 1850, image restored
from daguerreotype. Library of Congress archives

It turns out paddlewheels have been used to move boats for centuries, but it wasn’t until the steam engine was applied to power the wheel, in the early 1800s, that they became practical. Early versions on the Mississippi used wood, which was readily available along the river. Later, coal was used to generate the steam, but 4.5 to 14.5 tons of coal per day were required to keep their engines running.

The paddles could be located on the sides of the boat (sidewheelers) or mounted at the rear (sternwheelers). But the latter style was more common in the central part of the continent. They had flat bottoms and shallow hulls designed to carry large loads on generally smooth and occasionally shallow rivers.

Rivers were the “freeways” of the 1800s. Travel was faster and much more comfortable on the big riverboats than by any other means. Because of the sternwheeler's design, the Mississippi was opened to river traffic from New Orleans all the way to Minnesota. By the 1850s, hundreds of riverboats were landing in St. Paul with all types of goods and thousands of people.

On its tributaries, such as the Ohio and Missouri, cargo and passengers were carried from Pittsburgh to Cairo, and from St. Louis to Kansas City and beyond.

Passengers who wanted to get from one place to another as cheaply as possible spent their time aboard near the cargo on the main deck. Only the rich could afford a cabin on an upper deck with dining in the grand salon.

Delta Queen docked at New Orleans, 2007. Photo by Joe Ross,
 Lansing, Michigan, CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

In my mind, the Delta Queen epitomizes the grandeur of luxury travel during that time. It’s the last remaining historical steamboat capable of overnight cruises, and is a National Historic Landmark.

The Delta Queen and her identical twin the Delta King – called the million dollar boats – were fabricated in Scotland and Germany and assembled in 1927 in California. She remained in California until 1948, when she was relocated to New Orleans as a tourist boat on the inland waterways.

The elegant interior of the Delta Queen, with intricately carved stair railings and grand staircase,
outdid other luxury steamboats of the era. Delta Queen Steamboat Co. photo

No expense was spared in outfitting the Delta Queen with the finest appointments, such as teak handrails, Tiffany-style stained glass, and crystal chandeliers. Throughout the boat, the fittings are brass and the posts and paneling are either oak or mahogany. She is 285 feet long, 60 feet wide and has a height of 66 feet to the top of the smokestack. There are 88 staterooms for a total of 176 passengers.

At this time (2025), the Delta Queen is undergoing a multi-million-dollar refurbishing, but when complete, the company again plans to offer three- to seven-day cruises.

At several locations along the Mississippi, Ohio, Tennessee, and Cumberland, among others, you can ride a replica of a paddlewheel steamboat. One- to two-hour sightseeing excursions, lunch or dinner cruises, and sunset cruises are typically offered. These days, most are powered by diesel fuel, not steam.

The Delta Queen features the typical red paddles
of historical sternwheeler steamboats. Delta Queen
 Steamboat Co. photo

If you’re lucky enough to ride on one with a working paddlewheel, be sure to notice the mist of the water as it rushes along the bright red paddles. It’s a delightful experience that will take you back to the golden age of steam-powered riverboats on the inland waterways of America.

You may also enjoy these posts:

Heroes, Heroines, and History: Full Steam Ahead: Steamboats on the Hudson by Laurie Alice Eakes

and

Heroes, Heroines, and History: Steamboats and Indian Wars--by Jennifer Uhlarik 

Sources:

Steamboat - Wikipedia
Steamboating the Rivers - Steamboats.org
Mississippi River Boat History, Minnesota | Padelford Riverboats
Delta Queen Steamboat Company | Overnight Steamboat

Multi-award-winning author Marie Wells Coutu finds beauty in surprising places, like undiscovered treasures, old houses, and gnarly trees. All three books in her Mended Vessels series, contemporary stories based on the lives of biblical women, have won awards in multiple contests. She is currently working on historical romances set in her native western Kentucky in the 1930s and ‘40s. An unpublished novel, Shifting Currents, placed second in the inspirational category of the nationally recognized Maggie Awards. Learn more at www.MarieWellsCoutu.com.

Her historical short story, “All That Glistens,” was included in the 2023 Saturday Evening Post Great American Fiction collection and is now available free when you sign up for Marie's newsletter here. In her newsletter, she shares about her writing, historical tidbits, recommended books, and sometimes recipes.

The Sultana: The Maritime Disaster the U.S. Forgot - Part II

by Denise Weimer

Last month’s post set the stage for a national disaster, the sinking of the Sultana at the end of the Civil War. The dangerously overcrowded steamer, its boiler recently patched, was carrying around two thousand paroled prisoners of war home on the Mississippi River and had just stopped for coal north of Memphis, Tennessee.

Seven miles upriver, just north of Mound City, Arkansas, at 2 a.m. on April 27, 1865, the first boiler exploded, immediately followed by two more. The blast tore a hole through the main cabin of the boiler deck about a third of the way back, all the way up through the Texas cabin, and blew off the back two-thirds of the pilothouse. Men sleeping near the explosion who were not thrown skyward or outward fell into the open flames of the boiler below. Scalding steam filled the main saloon. The counterweighted paddlewheel housings tilted out. The left smokestack fell onto the forward part of the hurricane deck, while the right fell backward and smashed the remains of the pilothouse. Fire leapt up from the open boilers, spread across the oil-painted wood, and was unable to be extinguished since the fire buckets had been pressed into service for drinking water and slop. The paddlewheels fell away, turning the boat and the direction of the flames.

Passengers searched for anything that would float, including the condemned mules and horses aboard. The scramble for the single lifeboat capsized it. Many who could not swim pushed others underwater in their desperation. Even for those who could swim, the combination of the flooded river’s width and current, its icy temperature, and the eddies and submerged trees and brush along the shores guaranteed great risk.

Gayoso Hospital in Memphis

Many survivors were rescued from the Arkansas shore by former Confederates who had hidden their small watercraft when Union officials had recently destroyed any privately owned vessels. Once local boats got up steam, they joined the rescue efforts. Survivors were taken to private homes and the many army hospitals in Memphis. Bodies washed up all the way down the Mississippi for weeks. Modern historians estimate the death toll at over 1100.

Several investigations into the cause of the disaster were begun. Early interviews and potential evidence pointed to sabotage—specifically, the use of a coal torpedo. The evidence and testimonies that followed seemed to disprove that notion. In 1888, the Memphis Daily Appeal revisited the theory with a sensational article in which a man claimed that Confederate agent and blockade runner Charlie Dale, a.k.a. Robert Lowden/Louden, had confessed to the firing of half a dozen steamboats on the Mississippi during the war, including the Sultana. While many coincidences gave credence to his story, modern historians laid this possibility to rest.

While questions remain as to what did cause the explosion, and a number of factors may have contributed such as the overcrowding and the failure to properly distribute the Sultana’s load, the consensus over time lends toward a combination of the dangerous design of tubular boilers and over-pressurized steam against an inferior quality of iron used in the repair. So many officials were suspected of bribery or negligence that many feel justice was never achieved.

Those wanting to learn more can do so by visiting the Sultana Disaster Museum in Marion, Arkansas, https://www.sultanadisastermuseum.com/, or by reading the published accounts of the disaster, especially Destruction of the Steamboat Sultana by Gene Eric Salecker and The Sultana Tragedy by Jerry Potter.

Now available as part of Barbour’s Disastrous Days Series, When Hope Sank. 

https://www.amazon.com/When-Hope-Sank-April-Remember/dp/1636098290/  

The Civil War took Lily Livingston’s parents, twin brother, and home. She hides her Union loyalties to protect her younger brother while working in her uncle’s riverside inn—and dismisses the threats of a saboteur as bragging. Until the Sultana steamboat explodes in the Mississippi. The fiery explosion threatens to render Andersonville Prison survivor Cade Palmer unable to practice medicine again. But the tender care of the girl who rescues him sparks both faith and romance. When coded messages pass through the inn, Cade and Lily must work together to prevent another tragedy.

Denise Weimer writes historical and contemporary romance from her home in North Georgia and also serves as a freelance editor and the Acquisitions & Editorial Liaison for Wild Heart Books. A wife and mother of two daughters, she always pauses for coffee, chocolate, and old houses.

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The Sultana: The Maritime Disaster the U.S. Forgot - Part I

The journey of the Sultana

by Denise Weimer

They were destined for home, these emaciated, war-weary Union prisoners of war from Andersonville prison camp in Georgia and Cahaba in Alabama. The nightmares they had endured had left them shell-shocked and shells of their former selves. After four years of war and incarceration, they were paroled to Camp Fisk, where the U.S. Sanitary Commission replaced their prison rags with decent clothing and fed them potatoes and sauerkraut. 

When the order came on April 13, 1865 to release all prisoners without exchange, they celebrated with an artillery volley. Men from Indiana, Kentucky, Michigan, Ohio, Tennessee, and western Virginia soon found themselves entrained for Vicksburg, from where they would steam their way up the Mississippi River and then proceed by train to muster out at Camp Chase, Ohio.

At the Vicksburg dock, their ride awaited—the Sultana steamboat, its black bunting and flag at half staff that had carried the news of President Lincoln’s assassination downriver at odds with the elk horns proudly displayed between the two smokestacks. The elk horns were the wreath of honor for the fastest steamer on the river, owned by Captain Cass Mason. And even more jarring were the clanging sounds of boiler repair as the Ohio men first came aboard.

The unease of the initial group of parolees only increased as a second, then a third trainload arrived. (Officers in charge of the loading had miscommunicated and missed important information.) The soldiers aboard didn’t know the steamer had been designed to carry up to 376 passengers and a crew of 80, but anyone could see the men were being packed onto the main deck, which also carried livestock aft of the open boilers, the boiler deck where the enclosed saloon housed officers and paying civilian passengers, and the open hurricane deck which sat below the Texas deck of crew’s quarters just beneath the pilothouse. Packed on like sardines while other steamers came and went virtually empty from the Vicksburg dock. It didn’t take long for rumors of bribery between the captain and the quartermaster, Colonel Reuben Hatch, to circulate. By the time the Sultana left Vicksburg at 9 p.m. on Monday, April 24, she carried over 2100 souls.

The Mississippi River in the spring of 1865 was flooded up to several miles beyond its banks, the levees that were normally maintained by the Corps of Engineers broken. When the steamer stopped in Hopefield, Arkansas, the men rushed to view the water-covered streets and had to be chastened when the boat started tipping. A photographer on shore captured an image of the overcrowded steamer.

The Sultana stopped again at Memphis, unloading 400,000 pounds of sugar, 97 boxes of wine, and 60 hogs from the hold…without distributing the top-heavy load. A mile upriver, the steamer took on coal from the barges. The paroled Union soldiers and crew didn’t know it, but they were minutes away from a disaster that would forever change their lives.

Continued in my May 11 Part II post.

Pre-order When Hope Sank, part of Barbour’s Disastrous Days Series, at https://www.amazon.com/When-Hope-Sank-April-Remember/dp/1636098290/. The Civil War took Lily Livingston’s parents, twin brother, and home. She hides her Union loyalties to protect her younger brother while working in her uncle’s riverside inn—and dismisses the threats of a saboteur as bragging. Until the Sultana steamboat explodes in the Mississippi. The fiery explosion threatens to render Andersonville Prison survivor Cade Palmer unable to practice medicine again. But the tender care of the girl who rescues him sparks both faith and romance. When coded messages pass through the inn, Cade and Lily must work together to prevent another tragedy. 

Denise Weimer writes historical and contemporary romance from her home in North Georgia and also serves as a freelance editor and the Acquisitions & Editorial Liaison for Wild Heart Books. A wife and mother of two daughters, she always pauses for coffee, chocolate, and old houses.

Connect with Denise here:

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A Town Under the River: Bayou Sara, Louisiana

Before the Flood Waters Came
by Martha Rogers

On the banks of the Mississippi just down from the town of St. Francisville, the once thriving port of Bayou Sara, Louisiana now lies at the bottom of the river. Bayou Sara and St. Francisville were the two main villiages of West Feliciana Parish. 

Back in the 1840's and early '50's, my great-great grandfather held a partnership in a shipping company in this town. John Whiteman loved the river and the steamboats that visited the port town daily. His five sons worked with him from the youngest Theodore to the eldest Charles. As a widower, John kept the family of boys together and working until his death in 1859.

This is a map of the area that we found in the archives at the county courthouse when we visited to do family research.

John left his half of the business to his sons, but then the Civil War came along in 1861 and the four oldest boys enlisted as did most of the young men in the area. The port and the shipping business continued in the hands of their partner, and was an important stopping point along the river at that time.

The town of Bayou Sara goes back to the early days of  French colonists in the early 1790's. At one time it was the largest antebellum Mississippi River port between Memphis and New Orleans until Natchez claimed that title. Then Great Britain took over after it defeated France in the Seven Year's War in 1763. Then at the end of the American Revolutionary War, Great Britain ceded what it called West Florida to Spain in 1783, as part of the Treaty of Paris.    

Ponce de Leon re-named the area Nueva Feliciana which means New Happy Land in Spanish. The land had unequaled flora, flowing waters and fertile soil which were the main attractions to the area. The parish itself was diverse in topography as well. In 1810 the area became part of the the U.S. and grew so fast that in 1824, the parish was divided into  two parishes with Bayou Sara on the banks of the river as the main port town that furnished supplies up to Woodville, Mississippi and around the area before the steamboats went on down to New Orleans.

In 1862, gunboat crews tried to burn the town to the ground. They did destroy much of it, but no lives were lost, and the town rebuilt. 

Despite this tragedy, an unusual event involving the Union and the Confederates took place a year later. I posted about this event of the Civil War a year or so ago. It took place in Bayou Sara and St. Francisville in 1863. It is called the "Day the Civil War Stopped." On that day, Union Navy officer John E. Hart, who commanded an attack on the town of St. Francisville from his ship docked at Bayou Sara, became ill and died aboard his ship. Hart happened to be a Mason, and when Confederate officer W.W. Leake, also a Mason, learned this, he ordered the battle to stop for a Masonic funeral for Hart. In a twist of irony, he was buried in the cemetery at Grace Episcopal Church, the same church and town as had been under attack by his orders. This is a picture of John Hart.

The town thrived as a port, but after the war, my great-grandfather Manfred and his brothers sold their interest in the shipping company to their partner and moved away from Bayou Sara. Manfred came to Texas where he practiced medicine until his death in the 1890's.

The town survived the war through the efforts of Jewish emigrants who fled religious persecution in Germany. They settled there and made important contributions to commerce in the lean years following the war. 

The town also survived hurricanes and the flood of 1912. Although businesses and homes were flooded, the waters receded and the town recovered.


 Then, in the spring of 1927, the town finally met its match. The Mississippi and Atchafalaya rivers were swollen from months of rainfall that still saw no end. In late April the waters swelled to the point that by May, the two rivers burst through their levees sending mud and water into businesses, homes, and farmland on the banks and on across Louisiana where thousands had to flee the rising waters. Thousands were left homeless, and were never able to return.

This book commemorates the Great Flood

This event, known simply as the Great Flood of 1927 would change the shape of Louisiana forever. Along the banks of West Feliciana Parish, the waters completely covered the town of Bayou Sara and never receded. That port now lies at the bottom of the Mississippi River. You can drive down from St. Francisville to the river and catch a ferry to take you across the broad expanse of water to the other side. Other small towns tried to rebuild, but some never reached the same life they once had.

This marker stands to let others know about the history of the town and port of Bayou Sara.

As we crossed the Mississippi River from the landing to the other side, I thought of my ancestors and the business and home they had now being under all that water. It's a strange feeling to know that a once thriving town is under the water where you are boarding a ferry.

My novel, Love Stays True is set in that area and tells the story of my great-grandfather Manfred and his sweetheart, my great-grandmother Sally Dyer.

In April 1865, the day following the surrender at Appomattox, Manfred McDaniel Whiteman and his brother, Edward, are released in an exchange of prisoners. They are given a few provisions, and they begin a long journey to their home in Bayou Sara, Louisiana.

At home Sallie Dyer is waiting word of her beloved Manfred. Though just a young girl when Manfred left, Sallie has grown into a caring young woman who is determined to wait for her love--despite her father’s worries that she is wasting her life on someone who may never come home and suggests a local young man now home from the war.

On their journey Manfred and his brother encounter storms and thieves and are even thrown in jail. Will he make the journey home before someone else claims Sallie’s hand?  https://amzn.to/2CtsizH

Martha Rogers is a free-lance writer and multi-published author from Realms Fiction of Charisma Media and Winged Publications. She was named Writer of the Year at the Texas Christian Writers Conference in 2009. She is a member of ACFW and writes the weekly Verse of the Week for the ACFW Loop. ACFW awarded her the Volunteer of the Year in 2014. Her first electronic series from Winged Publications, Love in the Bayou City of Texas, debuted in the spring of 2015.  Martha is a frequent speaker for writing workshops and the Texas Christian Writers Conference. She is a retired teacher and lives in Houston with her husband, Rex. Their favorite pastime is spending time with their twelve grandchildren and five, soon to be six great-grandchildren. 

Islands of the Mississippi River

While writing my latest novel, I discovered my story needed an island on the Mississippi River big enough for a group of river pirates to hide out.

Are there any islands on the Mississippi River large enough live on permanently? Turns out the answer is yes. (I’m guessing some of you already knew this, but color me clueless!) Some islands have a history of providing safety, security, and trading opportunities for travelers while others harbored danger to all who drew near. And like the pirates in my story and the mist along the river, over long periods of time, these land masses come and go at will … and sometimes with a little help from the Army Corp of Engineers.

Bloody Island appeared in 1798. Situated opposite St. Louis, MO, the densely wooded island became the preferred meeting spot for duelists since it was not under Missouri or Illinois jurisdiction. After a few years, the growth of the island threatened the harbor of St. Louis. In 1837, the U.S. Army Engineers established a system of dikes and dams to wash out the western channel and join the island to the Illinois shore.

Farmland on Grand Tower Island in Missouri
By Nyttend - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29413915

Davis Island, located 20 miles southwest of Vicksburg, MS consists of 30,000 acres. Formerly a peninsula bounded on three sides by the Mississippi River, a shift in the river cut it off from the mainland in 1867. Owned by Jefferson Davis’ brother, the Davis family built two sprawling plantations on the island. After the Civil War, former plantation overseer Ben Montgomery and other freedmen leased the island and continued to operate a successful farming operation on the island before losing the lease in 1876 when crops failed due to catastrophic floods. Today, Davis Island is owned by the Brierfield Hunting Club, with access only by water.

Rock Island, (Arsenal Island) comprises 946 acres and is located on the Mississippi River between the cities of Davenport, Iowa, and Rock Island, Illinois. The Rock Island Arsenal is home of First Army headquarters. The island was originally established as a government site in 1816, with the building of Fort Armstrong. It is now the largest government-owned weapons manufacturing arsenal in the United States. 

The House-In-the-Woods, Campbell's Island, Illinois

At the turn-of-the last century, Campbell’s Island in Illinois was bought by a street-car company with the intentions of turning it into an amusement park. There were many summer cottages and The House-In-the-Woods, built in 1904, offered dining and concerts. Today, Campbell’s Island is home to a suburban community with many of the island homes built on stilts to withstand seasonal flooding.

Grand Tower Island is known for its prime farming land. Kaskaskia Island, with a population of 14 at the last census has seen its numbers swell to SEVEN THOUSAND in the past. Pike Island was an internment camp for more than 1600 Dakotas in 1862.

Kaskaskia Church, Kaskaskia, Illinois
By Charles Houchin - Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3726290

And then there is Stack Island, located in north Mississippi, the island I based my fictional Cottonmouth Island on. Sometimes called the Crow’s Nest, Stack Island was notorious as a hideout for horse thieves, robbers, counterfeiters, and murderers. Samuel Mason and the Harpe brothers (Micaiah Jones from The Crossing at Cypress Creek is loosely modeled on the villainous Micajah Harpe) were among the vicious outlaws who frequented the Crow’s Nest.

Cave-In-Rock, Illinois
By Karl Bodmer - Maximilian, Prince of Wied’s Travels in the Interior of North America, during the years 1832–1834http://www.gallery.oldbookart.com/main.php?g2_itemId=30172, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26707096

This is just a sampling of the twenty-four or so land masses on the Mississippi River that qualify as islands. I find the idea of island life on the Mississippi River fascinating! So, have you ever visited an island on the river? Or, be still my heart, lived on one?

Don't miss The Crossing at Cypress Creek, the third and final book in Pam Hillman's
The Natchez Trace Novel Series

CBA Bestselling author PAM HILLMAN was born and raised on a dairy farm in Mississippi and spent her teenage years perched on the seat of a tractor raking hay. In those days, her daddy couldn't afford two cab tractors with air conditioning and a radio, so Pam drove an Allis Chalmers 110. Even when her daddy asked her if she wanted to bale hay, she told him she didn't mind raking. Raking hay doesn't take much thought so Pam spent her time working on her tan and making up stories in her head. Now, that's the kind of life every girl should dream of. www.pamhillman.com

Historic Mansions on the Upper Mississippi River

Gabrielle Here:

I thought it would be fun to share some pictures of my childhood home today (no, it wasn't one of these gorgeous mansions!). My dad was the caretaker for the Musser & Weyerhaeuser Estate (above) on the banks of the Mississippi River and we lived in the carriage house below the hill. It sounds a bit like Sabrina, doesn't it? The estate wasn't quite as elaborate as the one in the movie, but it was still a very magical place to grow up. I had a unique upbringing, to say the least, and it greatly impacted my love for history.

This was my childhood home, the carriage house. From the house,
we had a picturesque view of the Mississippi River.

This areal view (courtesy of linden-hill.org) shows the mansions on the hill above the river.
The carriage house is just to the left of the white mansion.

Here's a view of the Mississippi from near the carriage house.

Here's a bit of the history of the estate:

Richard Drew Musser Home

Charles A. Weyerhaeuser and Richard “Drew” Musser came to Minnesota in 1891 and managed the Pine Tree Lumber Company, which was founded in 1890 by their fathers.

The Weyerhaeuser Home (green house) and Musser home (white house) are neighboring mansions that occupy nine acres of wooded land on top of a small bluff called Linden Hill, overlooking the Mississippi river. These homes were designed by Clarence H. Johnston, the most significant architectural figure in Minnesota, and they were built in the shingle style in 1898.

Charles A. Weyerhaeuser Home

In 1920 the Pine Tree Lumber Company closed and the Weyerhaeusers moved their business to Washington State, where the company is still prominent today. Drew Musser stayed in Little Falls and went into banking. His daughter, Laura Jane, took over the green house in the 1950's after returning from New York City where she attended Juilliard. Laura Jane Musser was the last family member to live on the estate and when she passed away in 1989, the property was given to the city and is now operated as Linden Hill Historical Event Center. Laura Jane was a huge fan of the Wizard of Oz and her amazing collection of memorabilia is still in the green house. She and Margaret Hamilton (The Wicked Witch of the West) met in New York City and became life long friends. Margaret visited Laura Jane many times at her home.

Margaret Hamilton (left) and Laura Jane

We moved into the carriage house when I was three years old. I have wonderful memories of Laura Jane and our time on the estate. It's still one of my favorite places on Earth. 

Every year, I host an author retreat in the white mansion. We spend four days writing, brainstorming, relaxing, and dreaming along the banks of the Mississippi River. I also lead a walking tour through my historic downtown for those who might enjoy a little more history.

I hope you enjoyed visiting Linden Hill with me today! Last year, I wrote a story for the Of Rags to Riches Romance Collection set at this estate. It's called A Tale of Two Hearts and it's set at Linden Hill (which I call Basswood Hill) in 1898.

Of Rags and Riches is available here.

What about you? Where did you spend your childhood? Do you ever go back and visit?

Gabrielle Meyer lives in central Minnesota on the banks of the Mississippi River with her husband and four children. As an employee of the Minnesota Historical Society, she fell in love with the rich history of her state and enjoys writing fictional stories inspired by real people and events.

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For the Love of History

Gabrielle Here:

I've always been fascinated with history, since the time I can remember. When I was little, and learned about the Civil War era, I begged my mother for a hoop skirt and gown. My sister and I repeatedly embarrassed our older brothers by parading about in our historical garb, with our horrible southern accents (I was born and raised in Minnesota, so you can about imagine how bad it sounded), when their friends were around.

As I grew older, I fell in love with historical fiction. For the space of a few hours, I could immerse myself in the times and places that so captured my imagination. No longer was I living and breathing the 1860's. After I discovered my love for books, I was a princess in a medieval fortress, a lady-in-waiting in Queen Victoria's court, a brave pioneer on the American Frontier, a gold-digger in the California hills, and a young woman coming of age in a charming turn-of-the century Midwestern town. The options were endless and I reveled in them.

Here I am sitting near the Lindbergh piano, portraying
Evangeline Lindbergh (Aviator Charles A. Lindbergh's
Mother) in a living history event at the
Lindbergh Historic Site.

I went on to work at a historic site, and later a county historical society. I delved deep into the history of my own hometown on the banks of the Mississippi River, and I swam with abandon. I sang with the voyageurs as they plied the lakes and rivers, I shot the rapids with Zebulon Pike on his search for the headwaters, I stood on the lookout with Chief Hole-in-the-Day as he watched the white men come into his region, I rejoiced and cried with the men and women who toiled to start my hometown, I balanced on the billions of logs as they floated downriver to the mills, and I waved toward the sky when Charles A. Lindbergh, our hometown boy, became a national hero and world-renown pilot. The stories of these brave men and women, many of them as common and ordinary as me, did extraordinary things with the time and resources they were given.

These people from the past began to speak to my heart, and I longed to tell their forgotten stories. People who lived, fought, and sometimes died so I could enjoy the "simple" luxuries of life. They harnessed the falls in the Mississippi for power to cut logs, mill grain, and ultimately produce electricity. They cleared, leveled, and paved roads so I can drive down the street with ease. They constructed bridges, so I can effortlessly traverse the wild Mississippi River several times a day. They hauled thousands of wagon loads of dirt to fill a massive ravine, so commerce could fill our downtown, and make life easier for all of us. They designed the courthouse, with its high tower, and built it from local, handmade brick, and did it all before modern technology produced skid steers and power tools. The list goes on and on.

As I discovered all these things, and began to share my love of history with those around me, I realized that most people think of history as dry and boring. To me, it's anything but boring! History is alive, it's active, it's dangerous and fierce. History allows us to look at the past from a place of safety and step into the shoes of the people who lived it out. It teaches us lessons on what to do and what not to do. It's full of wisdom, insight, and experience.

When I was in college, it became my deepest desire to tell the stories of the men and women forgotten by history. I don't want to retell the stories we all know so well; I wanted to resurrect the names and places of people that didn't make it into the textbooks. The stories I love telling are found in old letters, dusty journals, faded photographs, and yellowed newspapers. Their stories are like buried treasures, waiting to be discovered and unearthed, full of untold riches for those lucky enough to find them. 

One of those stories was told in my novel, A Family Arrangement, which released with Harlequin's Love Inspired Historical (LIH) line last December. A second came when Inherited: Unexpected Family released in September with LIH, and the third is found in The Gift of Twins, which releases this December with LIH. All of these stories are inspired by real people, places, and events in my hometown's history--and they are just a morsel of the stories I long tell.

Your Turn: What are some true stories you've heard about your hometown? What do you love about history? What's your favorite era? How were you first introduced to history?

Gabrielle Meyer lives in central Minnesota on the banks of the Mississippi River with her husband and four children. As an employee of the Minnesota Historical Society, she fell in love with the rich history of her state and enjoys writing fictional stories inspired by real people and events. Her next novel, The Gift of Twins, releases with Love Inspired Historical in December 2017.

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River Wannigan

Gabrielle Here:

I live on the banks of the Mississippi River in central Minnesota and my hometown was the site of the largest sawmill in the world in the 1890's. But before the mill could cut all those logs, they had to be sent downriver from the lumber camps spread throughout the Big Woods of Minnesota.

Pine Tree Lumber Company in Little Falls, MN

Millions of feet of lumber flowed downriver from the logging camps in northern Minnesota each spring/summer/fall. All winter long the logging camps would cut and stack logs along streams and riverbanks. When the river thawed they would roll the logs into the Mississippi.

With each "drive" of logs, the camp would send along one or two river wannigans to travel with the men driving the logs.

The wannigan was a floating shack, usually 25 to 30 feet long, and built low to the water to keep it stable on the fast moving river. The main wannigan was used as a cook shack, and the second (if there was one) might be used for sleeping.

Your Turn: Have you ever heard of a wannigan before? Would you like to ride in one?

Gabrielle Meyer lives in central Minnesota on the banks of the Mississippi River with her husband and four children. As an employee of the Minnesota Historical Society, she fell in love with the rich history of her state and enjoys writing fictional stories inspired by real people and events.

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