on est parti au Grand Texas, part III

As you might imagine, Caddo Lake underwent substantial changes once the white folks took over in the early/mid nineteeen century. Before the arrival of European settlers, the natives were content to let God call the shots. They located their villages high up on the tops of the many hillocks around and in the lake, thus rendering them impervious to the occasional floods that were generated whenever too much water came down the Red River.


     Just as the Atchafalaya Basin occasionally relieves the flood-swollen Mississippi River of part of its burden during high-water times, so did Caddo Lake function in similar fashion for the Red River, receiving Red River floodwaters up around present-day Jefferson, TX, funneling that water through the Caddo Lake system, and returning what was left of the overflow back to the Red River just below present-day Mooringsport, LA (ca. 15 mi. N of Shreveport). But, riding high on the steamboat technology revolution that had gripped the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers, Henry Shreve developed a shallow-draft steamer, suitable for the shallower waters of the Red River and other western rivers. Once this had occurred a cry went up from the money dudes to dam the foot of Caddo Lake in order to artificially maintain water levels sufficient for year round steamboat travel up through the lake. As is still normally the case these days, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers wasted no time in siding with those financial interests, allowing them to throw up a rinky-dink of a dam just below Morringsport.

     Well, from a natural/cultural perspective, that was all she wrote. Soon enough, New Orleans shipping interests were opening up offices and warehouses in Jefferson, TX, creating an overnight boom town there. Everybody was getting rich.

     At the same time, the white folks who were settling in around Caddo Lake – mostly dudes and dudettes running away from former lives – joined in the party, selling fish, ducks, firewood, just about anything that wasn't nailed down, to the new capitalist class.

     That much money, stirred into that particular, uh, brand of humanity stirred up much craziness. The main thing is that the criminal element (that is, those criminals who had chosen to maintain the criminal careers they had established back East) flourished, much to the dismay of those folks who had truly started all over at Caddo, checking their criminal pasts at the door as they settled there. Monterrey Landing (on the Louisiana side of the lake, of course) was the most notorious, sporting a race track, saloons, brothels, all the accoutraments of low-living. It was said that Jean LaFitte had some pretty stout connections at Monterrey. . .

     Things got so bad that a vigilante group called The Regulators was formed; only they began killing not only outlaws, but also any other citizen who they didn't particularly care for. Things got so bad that another vigilante group called The Moderators was formed for the purpose of killing off The Regulators. Things got so bad that Sam Houston hisself had to make a personal appeal for the two factions to quit – appealing, it is said, to their sense of patriotism. Whew!

     By 1873 Henry Shreve finally succeeded in clearing The Great Raft on the Red River, a massive, 130-mile, post-Pleistocene log jam that had formed from well above present-day Shreveport down nearly all the way to present-day Natchitoches. And – in the parlance of our time – BAM! The Red River flowed like mad, Shreveport (I wonder where THAT name came from?) was formed, and Caddo Lake's steamboat party pretty much dried up, with New Orleans shipping interests pulling the rug out from under the lake's citizenry so fast that they scarcely knew what hit 'em.

     Economic life went on, however. At some point around the turn of the century, Ladybird Johnson's dad, a Mr. Taylor, came in and lobbied for a rail spur into the Texas side of the lake. Tourism? Nope. Fish. And ducks. He bought up all the fish and ducks that the locals could supply him with, shipping iced barrels to Chicago, Kansas City, wherever.

     Once the seasonal overflow of the Red River was tamed, Caddo Lake water levels dropped significantly, exposing freshwater mussel beds which could then be accessed in thigh to waist-deep water. Fresh mussel meat for the masses? Nope (that would be some sort of Indian move, wouldn't it?). Freshwater pearls for the elite. Uh-huh. Pearl buyers from the world over descended on Caddo, buying up every pearl that the locals could dig out. Pearl hunting was a tough business. Lots and lots of musseling had to be done in order to find a single pearl, y'understand. It was said that a few of the locals were better at it than most.

     One guy who stayed at it the hardest also happened to be a lush. Anyway, whenever this guy found a pearl or two, he'd quickly sell them, pocket the cash, and run over to the notorious St. Paul Bottoms in Shreveport, drinking and, uh, partying until he was out of cash. On one particularly extravagant run, he had stayed so drunk for so long that one morning they found him on the streets of St. Paul Bottoms, crawling around and doodling in horse dung until he'd find a grain of corn, which he'd make a big show of smuggly pocketing, as if it were a freshwater pearl . . .oh-oh . . . time to go home . . .

     During prohibition, Caddo Lake adapted a huge moonshine industry. Then, somebody found oil and gas on the Louisiana side. I'm running out of space for these items, though. Read the books!

     You know what is most captivating about this eminently captivating place? The spanish moss. Yes. We've (Gulf Coasters, anyway) all seen spanish moss, but nowhere like in Caddo Lake. Another decent example of “extra-topping” servings of spanish moss would be Lake Bistineau, just southeast of Shreveport; but honestly, it's nowhere near that of Caddo Lake.

     Caddo Lake's a freak. “Disneyesque” is the word that first came out of my wide-open mouth upon first seeing it. Can you imagine? Disneyesque? Oh but no. Never never never would you see such a thing in never never land.

     Caddo Lake – the treed portions anyway, which accounts for over half the lake – is one contiguous moss curtain, gauzily enfolding and muting every sight and every sound. Enveloping all. What ever happens at Caddo stays safely hung in Caddo's moss.

     Through it all, Caddo Lake's Moss Curtain has veiled – and continues to veil – all of the harshness of its life... continues to forgive those who might think they need forgiveness...continues to suffuse mystery and otherworldliness throughout.