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NEW ORLEANS

AS I FOUND IT.

/J5r-i

BY H. DIDIMUS.

*' Dieser sahe die welt wie sie wirklich war." -Sckillkr.

<^.CAN27j;^>

IIBKARY ' j

^Tr-Yo;RV^

NEW-YORK:

PUBLISHED BY HARPER «fc BROTHERS, No. 83 Cliff- Street.

1845.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845, 1>J-

Harper & Brothers Jr the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.

DEDICATION.

TO M— R— E.

My dearest Friend :

With great pleasure I dedicate to you these sketches of some of the incidents of my first visit to New Orleans, in the winter of 1835-36.

In a " Second Part" I shall add other compartments to an unfinished picture of the most remarkable city of our country. But when I again appear before you, you must not expect to find in the New Orleans of "to-day" an exact counterpart of "the New Orleans of 1836." A few years tell much in its story; and herein consists the diffi- culty of my subject. The city's rapid growth in population, in business, and in wealth — causes which will continue to operate for centuries to come — the frequent change of actors upon its scenes— owing, in part, to the periodical visitation of its great scourge, but mostly to the annual influx of new men from northern climes, with nor- thern habits and northern thought — render it impossible to draw a portrait which will be equally recognised from every point of time. H. D.

The Hook, N. H., 1835.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

iv

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" Taking the age as it now stands, and with reference to conferapOTaiy maftfers, we haife already said that we consider the judgment of the public, which presumes some foundation, in fact, for every current state- ment, to be in the majority of cases a just one. Fiction, though siiJl powerful £krvd active, is in a minority — on the whole, in a dechning minority. In her old, time-honOared-€a«tles, 8l»«- does indeed preserve unsha- ken authority ; but her new conquests, if not diificuit to be made, are at least difficult to be maintained." . — Westminster Review.

DAY THE FIRST.

" The divisions of a work, whether they be styled parts, or books, or chapters, or sections, or whatsoever else the fancy of the writer may devise, are a happy invention — they are breathing points for the mind." —Dr. Williams.

CHAPTER I.

" We entered into this citie, and observed its make and people." — Hackluyt, Voyages

AilGUMENT.

The Reader introduced to the Scene of Action. — The Levee. — Fiat-Boats.— A Flat-Boatman. — An Ac- quaintance made.

By whatever route the traveller ap- proaches New Orleans — vvhether by the river, the sea, or the lake — the feature which first attracts his attention is its Le- vee ; and I could not have chosen a better starting-point from which to commence my observations upon this " world in min- iature"— where one may meet with the products and the people of every country in any way connected with commerce — than its upper or most southern extremity.

The traveller loses the points of the compass at New Orleans, and knowing that the general course of the river is from north to south, is surprised to learn that the city lies west of the Mississippi, which here flows due north — that the American or upper part of the city, as it is called, is really its most southern extremity ; and that the frosty Yankee has actually taken up his habitation south of the sunny de- scendants of France, Spain, and Italy ! This exchange of geographical position is to be attributed to the northerners superior judgment and foresight ; and is here refer- red to, that the reader may fully compre- hend the locale of the theatre I am about to describe, and observe its action without being disturbed by the discovery that the sun is rising in the west !

Levee is a French word, of primary im- portance within the State of Louisiana : it pervades its statute-book, and is daily heard within its halls of justice. " There is little or no land," says Judge Porter, "on the banks of the river, within this state, if we except an inconsiderable quwnrity in the neighbourhood of, and above Baton Rouge, which would not be covered with the waters of the Mississippi

in the spring months, were it not for the artificial embankment which the industry of man has raised to exclude them." Thus the Dutch are not the only people who have won their domain from the watery element. The State of Louisiana, whea we consider its recent existence, the pau- city of its population, and that population sparsely scattered over a large extent of country, has done more than Holland : yet we overlook the wonder which lies at our own door, to lose ourselves in admiration of the not greater wonder three thousand miles off.

The traveller from the north, as he touches the region of the orange and cane, of smiling plantations, bounded in the back- ground by dense forests, aiid stretching onward to a seemingly illimitable extent towards the south, and looks down upon the planter's mansion, the cluster of white cottages hard by,* the slave at his daily task, and the mounted overseer, as one would look down from a balcony upon the busy street below, appears first to be made conscious that the Mississippi, the father of waters, the receiver of so many mighty rivers, is here, near the close of its course, where its stream is most rapid, controlled by the puny hand of man— that the ocean- stream upon whose bosom he is floating, here restricted, hemmed in, and directed^ sweeps down to the sea over an artificial ridge, and that he is passing through a huge aqueduct, which raises the dweller upon water above the dweller upon land ! Here the waves do indeed bound beneath him as a steed that knows his rider; yet the traveller sees, admires, and forgets. But if he forgets the whole, he cannot for- get the part : when once seen, once re- marked, he cannot forget the Levee of New Orleans — the storehouse of the great Val-

* The northerner, accustomed to extravagant por- traitures of the slave's deprivations, is agreeably sur- prised to find the servant sheltered by a roof often equal with, and sometimes 'superior to, that which protects the master.

6

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

ley of the Mississippi ; the receptacle of the products of a hundred cHmes, of a country extending from the frigid to the torrid zone, ilUmitabie in resources,' as al- most inimitable in extent ; the goal of a thousand steamboats, and of more than a thousand merchantmen ; the exchange, the place of purchase, of sale, and of barter ; the huckster's shop, the news-room, and the Prado* of the greatest exporting city in the world. f

* Prado, in its original signification, is an epithet little applicable to the dust and total absence of every green thing which characterizes the Levee ; but the descendants of the daughters of Spain have not in any degree degenerated in their love of public walks, and if, to enjoy a taste so beneficial, they have been compelled to encroach upon the common landing of the city, they may be permitted to refer to it in lan- guage calculated "to recall the pleasures of Madrid.

t Perhaps there is no better gauge of what may be, than what has been ; the writer has, therefore, •collected in the following note a few historical data, to justify such hopes of the future as the reader may meet wiih in the course of this work.

In the year 1717, the government of France found it advisable to place its province of Louisiana under the direction of a company ; and a charter, conferring upon its proprietors nearly all the powers of sover- eignty, was registered in the parliament of Paris, on the 6th of September, 1717. At that time the popu- lation of the province, comprising an o.xtent of coun- try stretching from Mobile to the head waters of the Mississippi, amounted to seven hundred souls ! On the 9th of February, 1718, three of the company's ships arrived in the province, freighted with soldiers and colonists. " lis apperterent," says a late writer, " I'agreable nouvelle que Bienville etait nomme gouv- erneur ; un homme qui avail passe vingtant dans la colonie, et qui connaissait toutes Ics resources et toutes les besoins et qui s'etait rendu cher a tons les habitans." The first act of that gentleman's admin- istration was to select upon the banks of the Missis- sippi a site favourable for the capital of the province. ■" II choisit," continues the writer above quoted, " I'en- droit oQ se trouve maintenant la Nouvelle Orleans ; et il y laissa cinquante hommes pour nettoyer le ter- rain, et y construire des baraques !"

What will not a century bring forth ! Is there a descendant of Bienville among us? If there is, let him stand now upon the banks of the Mississippi, shut out the present, call up the past, and assume the feelings, the knowledge, the character, the iden- tity of his ancestor. When the spell breaks, and the dream disperses, he will find that ages of action have been compressed into one little age of time. Surely, what once required ten centuries is now done in one. In 1722, New Orleans was officially proclaimed the capital of the colonial government, having at that time a jiopulation of 200 ! On the 22d of January, 1732, the Company of Louisiana resigned its charter into the hands of the king, with an agsregate popu- lation in the whole province of 5000 whiles and 2000 slaves. On the 3d of November, 1763, the King of France ceded to the King of Spain all that part of the then Province of Louisiana which lay west of the Mississippi, together with the city of New Orleans. in September, 1706, Ulloa arrived at New Orleans, with authority to take possession of the ceded terri- tory in the name of the King of Spain ; the province then numbered 5000 whiles and 6000 blacks. On the 16th of August, 1769, the Spanish general, O'Reily, exhibited his credentials, and formally took posses- sion of the province, Ulloa having refrained from so doing, from motives of policy : the city then possess- ed a population of 3190; of whom 1902 were free, in- cluding 31 of pure and 68 of mixed African blood ; 1225 slaves, and 60 Indians. The houses were in

The Levf e of New Orleans is one con- tinued landi ig-place or quay, four miles in extent, and "f an average breadth of one hundred feet. It is fifteen feet above low- water mark, or that stage of the river when its waters retire wholly within their natu- ral bed ; and six feet above the level of the city, to which it is graduated by an easy descent. Like the river it margins, it holds a serpentine course ; advancing or receding, as the Mississippi encroaches upon the city, or falls off towards the op- posite bank. It is constructed of deposUe, a rich alluvion swept from the north, and held in suspension by the waters of the Mississippi until their rapidity is checked by a sudden change of direction, or, swoll- en to overflowing, they spread over the ad- jacent swamps, again to retire, and again to bless the land they have visited with an increase of soil. The deposite is so great, and the consequent formation of new land so rapid, immediately in front of that por- tion of the quay which is most used for the purposes of commerce, that it has within a few years become necessary to build piled wharves, jutting out from fifty to one hundred feet into the river. The new for- mation, which is governed, as to its local- ity, by what may well be termed the freaks of the Mississippi, is called " Batture ;"* and when it has progressed to such an ex- tent as to be left bare by the retiring water at its lowest stage, is held capable of own- ership : a sort of property which has giv- en birth to an indefinite amount of long- continued, intricate, and vexatious litiga- tion, dating from the first appearance of the late Edward Livingston in the courts of Louisiana up to the present moment.

I have now introduced the reader to that part of the city vvliich will first occupy our attention. The city of Lafayette is busy behind me — a mere suburb of rusty, wood-

number 468. In 1785, the population of New Or- leans had increased only 1770 — 4960 ; and in 1793, only 2148—5338, in a period of nineteen years.

On the 21st of March, 1801, Louisiana was ceded to France, in conformity with the stipulations of a treaty concluded between his Catholic majesty and the First Consul of the French Republic, at St. Ilde- fonso, the 1st of October, 1800. On the 30th of No- vember, 1803, Lausat took possession of the province in the name of the Republic. The population of the city then amounted to 8056. On the 20th of Decem- ber following, the province again changed masters, and passed into the possession of that power which, with a liberality unknown to history, has raised the purchased to an equality with the purchaser — has stripped the servant of the badges of servitude, and clothed his limhs with sovereignty. In 1810, the population of New Orleans had increased to 17.242; in 1820, to 27,176; and, in 1830, to 46,310: but it is to be remembered that these numbers give only its fixed population, or that which is to be found in the city in midsummer. During the busine.ss season it wiil not now (1839) fall far under 150,000. Such are the effects of Liberty!

* A Creole corruption of battures, a French "'""^ having no singular, and signifying flats, sh; shoals.— Vide 6. M. Reps., p. 21.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

• en houses; on my left I hear a confused Babylonish dialect, sounds harsher than harshness, the patois, provincialisms, and lingual corruptions of all the Germanic tribes — it is the German quarter; and on my right flows the Mississippi, a stream of jnud, whose very filth constitutes its puri- ty. And here one may see what New Or- leans was before the application of steam to navigation. Hundreds of long, narrow, black, dirty-looking, crocodile-like rafts lie sluggishly, without moorings, upon the 8oft batture, and pour out their contents upon the quay : a heterogeneous compound of the products of the Upper Mississippi and its tributaries. These rafts, or flat- boats, as they are technically called,* are covered with a raised work of scantling, giving them the appearance of long, nar- row cabins, built for the purpose of habi- tation, but designed to protect from the ■weather- a cargo often of the value of from three to fifteen thousand dollars. They are guided by an oar at the stern, aided with an occasional dip of two huge pieces of timber, which move on either side like fins, and float with the stream at a rate of three miles the hour. Such was the car- riage of the products of the up-country twenty years ago ! their number has not been diminished by the introduction of the steamboat. It is, indeed, a natural,^imple, and cheap mode of transportation ; and as long as the Mississippi passes with such rapidity from its source to its embouchure in the gulf, the traveller will meet with these unsightly masses floating on its bo- som, swayed to and fro by its currents, counter-currents, and eddies, often shift- ing end for end, like some species of shell- fish, and not unfrequently, like the crab, preferring the oblique to the forward move- ment. Yet hundreds are at times sunk by sudden squalls, and of the many freighted in the up-country, perhaps not more than two thirds ever reach New Orleans. The insurance offices look upon them as very unsafe bottoms.

Of the many which lie before me, ground- ed upon the batture, some are filled with fat cattle, whose lowing discourses eloquently of the distant pastures of the north. The States of Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Mis- souri, Arkansas, and Louisiana, and the Re- public of Texas, annually send more than twenty thousand head of horned cattle to this market. Arkansas, Missouri, and Tex- as raise numerous herds, which run wild over their extensive prairies, and are tamed and caught with salt. Kentucky, with

♦ The flat-boat may claim the honour of antiquity. " Man nahen zwei unif dreissig Playten (Platte Fahrzeuge), jede sechs und sechzig Fusz lang und zwanzig breit, und diese fiigte man." — U. s. v. Schill- er, Belagerung von Antwerpen. This description is literally applicable to the flat-boats of the Missis- sippi.

greater progress in the arts of husbandry, pastures and stalls its beef, which, conse- quently, bears off" the palm for size, condi- tion, and general excellence. Henry Clay is an accomplished farmer ; not the least of his merits : and the eflfects of his labours at " Ashland" may be seen in the short horns, broad chests, full, round proportions, and sleek, glossy hides of the monsters which are now passing from the water to dry land, snuffing the air, conscious of for- eign parts, yet treading the earth firmly, and with measured step, without any of the frolic meaner breeding would have ex- hibited.

Others are freighted with horses, mules, and sheep ; corn in sacks or in bulk, and upon the cob — a method of transportation which has its advantages, what is lost in stowage being gained in protection from must and rot.

Here is a boat stowed with apples, infe- rior enough in quality, cider, cheese, pota- toes, butter, chickens, lard, hay — coarse, the rank growth of a virgin soil — all offered for sale, in the mass or by the lot ; a variety storehouse which would make a Yankee's heart leap for joy. And there lie thirty more, side and side, reeking with grease, steaming in the sun, and smelling — faugh ! none but a Christian could live amid such a mass of swine's flesh. Pork, alive, in bulk, in barrels, fresh, salted, smoked, of all sizes and conditions ; the corn-fed fat- ness of Ohio, and the lean acorn-growth of Illinois : were Judaism to prevail, where would be the greatness of Cincinnati ? Flour from Virginia and Ohio, old and new, sweet and sour ; the leading breadstuff", yet the most fickle in price : cotton from Ar- kansas and Mississippi, lumber from Ten- nessee, whiskey from Missouri, tobacco from Kentucky, twice foundered, twice drenched, to be here dried, cured anew, disguised, and repacked, close the list.

But the men who make these things of wood their dwellings ; who launch them upon the Ohio, the Illinois, the Upper Mis- sissippi, the Missouri, the Arkansas, and the Cumberland, with all their tributaries, and guide them to this their final resting- place, should not be forgotten. They are a distinct class of beings, livers on the wa- ter, known and designated as '• boatmen of the Mississippi," an expression which em- braces all that is strong, hardy, rough, and uncouth, with much that is savage, wild, and lawless. They cannot be supposed to have been born in habitations constructed for so temporary a purpose ; yet the con- geniality of their dispositions with their situation and employment might justify one in suspecting that their mothers, like Antonia Perez, often visited the scenes of their husband's labours. " Mi nacimienlo," says Lazanllo, " fue dentro del rio Termes, par la qual cosa tome el solsenombre" (de

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

Tecmes), " y fue de esta manera. Mi pad- re (que dios perdone), tenia cargo de pro- veer una molienda de una acefia que esta ribera de aquel rio, en la qual fue molinero mas de quiaer afios : y estando mi madre una noclie en la acefia prefiada de mi, to- m61a el parto y pariome alii, de manera que con verdad me puedo decir nacido en el rio." Undoubtedly, like Jacob the Faith- ful, many of them in that way first smelled the mud.

There is now before me a model of his kind, et tabula uni, discriptio omnium. He stands six feet, broad shouldered, broad breasted, large boned, fatless, but well strung and knit with muscle. He stoops in the back, his head projects a foot be- yond his breast, his hair is long, shaggy, and falls dishevelled about his ears; his feet are broad enough to serve as a base to the hanging tower above, and his hands are of the compass of a goodly-sized di- ning plate. His chin is unreaped, his mouth capacious ; his nose massive, projecting, and of a warm, whiskey hue ; his eyes are swollen, red, and watery, the effects of ex- posure ; his eyelashes gone, and eyebrows long, thin, and scraggy; his costume, a large felt hat, worn u la slouche, with an im- mense brim, from which the rains of heav- en have long since extracted the glue ; it looks for all the world like an old lady's cap-ruffle of a Saturday morning, unstarch- ed ; a round linsey-woolsey jacket, with sleeves which halt half way between the elbow and the wrist, and trousers to match, of stout Kentucky jeans : the nether, like the upper garment, exhibiting a strong dis- inclination towards extension. There he stands, faithfully drawn, a flat-boatman of the Mississippi. There are exceptions, sed exceptio probat regulam.

" Good-morning, sir," said I, approach- ing the figure, and touching my hat re- spectfully.

" Good-morning, good-morning," replied the boatman ; and dc.;:;hingthe rheum from his eyes with one hand, he mechanically extended the other, not in token of friend- ship or recognition ; but every seller upon the Levee sees a purchaser in a stranger, and baits his hook with the little courte- sies of life when he would fish for a cus- tomer. I met the proffered member half way ; it felt like a piece of well-tanned leather, hard, solid ; there was no give to it ; it had seen service ; yet the grasp was as gentle as a woman's ; for it was one of formal habit.

" A very cool morning, sir."

'■' D — d cool," replied the boatman, en- ergetically, while he rubbed his two fins, one over the other, with a rapidity which .must' have excoriated common flesh.

" What may be the price of corn i" said I, innocently.

" The price of corn ]" The boatman's

eye twinkled. " Closed at seven bits* yesterday ; will be eight to-day ; shouldn't be surprised if it ran up to twelve before it stops; mildew — rot — cold summer — wet fall— played the devil with it— told that ten boat-loads were sunk in the late squall, near island No. 23. I have a right smart sprinkle of the article in a small chunk of a boat hard by."

" My dear sir — "

" Half in sacks, and — "

" I am no purchaser — "

'' Half on the cob—"

" I merely inquired — '''

" Five thousand bushels in the heap — "

" Out of curiosity."

" Growed on the best rib in old Ken- tuck—"

" I am very sorry — "

" Right from Little Bear Creek—"

" I have—"

" Sound and sweet — '

" Put you—"

" Never seed better — "

" To the—"

" Must go up river to-morrow — '

" Trouble—"

" Will sell cheap—"

" Of—"

" Have chance for a speculation — "

" Enumerating — "

" Do you wish to buy"?"

I had, unintentionally, touched the right spring. The machine was wound up, and it would go on until it ran down.

"Do you wish to buyl" and the boat- man drew a long breath.

The question was to be answered : and, as soon as my admiration of the man's vol- ubility had somewhat abated, I renewed my asseverations of entire disinterested- ness in the condition of the market ; sta- ting, in a deprecating tone, that I was a mere idler upon the Levee, a stranger to these parts, one whose sole object was to hear what was to be heard, and to see what was to be seen. My friend looked at me narrowly, but soon resolved his doubts.

" Come !" said he, pointing to one of the many flat-boats which lay aground near us ; "I have lived thirty years on this riv- er, and this is my last trip. I am old, and a twinge of the rheumatics is what I call a broad hint. Perhaps you are about to enter upon that scene which I find it time to leave — we must drink together."

The old boatman's words went to my heart. " I have lived thirty years on this river, and this is my last trip !" I bowed more than respectfully, and, putting his arm within mine, walked towards his hab- itation.

"This is my home!" said the boatman,

* Bit — a local term for the Spanish coir: and a half cents value.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

9

as we stepped into the queer craft over which he held command. It was a long, narrow trough, fifty feet from stem to stern, with a beam of twelve ; the floor and sides were made of thick plank, double, and cross-laid, and well calked and tarred in the seams ; the whole covered with the light raised work of scantling of which I have already spoken ; a man of ordinary height might have stood erect beneath its roof. The boat was filled with corn fore and aft, excepting a small cabin on the prow, which the captain had reserved for his own accommodation.

" Put two cups on the table, and a flask of the real, Nanny," said the boat- man, addressing a little old woman of some fifty years ; she might have been younger — she probably was — it is wonderful how exposure takes from the youth of a woman. The little old woman rose from the only chair in the apartment, and commenced fumbling amid a heap of rubbish which lay at her elbow, while the boatman, having placed two rough stools before a table in the centre, seated himself upon one, and motioned me to the other.

" A snug apartment this !" said I, sur- veying, with no small curiosity, its narrow walls, garnished with many a string of traced onions, bunches of beets, red pep- pers, and other culinary plants.

" Very ; but large enough for my wants. Young man, I am used to it. I have lived in this 'ere sort of thing the better part of thirty years, and have seen more happy days in than out of it. Habit, nothin' like it. From the day of my first trip, 1808, never sailed in any other craft : wouldn't do it."

" You might tell many strange things of old times."

" Rather reckon I could. Saw the first steamboat that descended the Mississippi : it was of a fine frosty morning in the early part of the month of January, 1812.* Lord! how queer she looked. The wild water- fowl, that used to consider me a kind of one of themselves, were terrible frighten- ed. I then thought there was an end o' my trade, but steam hasn't affected me. Yet it has killed the keelboats ; and I thank Heaven for it. I always thought it a dis- grace to human nature to, walk through the world backward,! and have preferred

* The first steamboat upon the Mississippi arrived at New Orleans from Pittsburg on the 19th of Janu- ary. 1812.

+ The keelboat, in ascending a stream, is pro- pelled by means of poles of from twenty to thirty feet in length. The boatmen, ranging themselves in equal numbers on either side of their craft, thrust one end of their slicks into the mud, and, placing the other against the right shoulder, apply forpe suffi- cient to move the heavy mass u['jii which they Btand. Thus each passes successively from stem to

■-: -i---» "i-'-iging his position, and with his

3 point towards which he is mo-

floating down in a thing like this. Sell out ; bre?ik her up for the wood-yard ; take my money, and walk over the ' Old Natch- ez Trace.' "

" Have you, indeed, been a traveller upon the ' Old Natchez Trace V It is a famous track, and has many a wild legend connected with its history."

" A traveller !" exclaimed the boatman, with a leer out of the corner of his eye ; "one hundred times, if once. And as for legens, I think I can give ye an anecdote which will please ye, and which I know to be true."

I thanked my host, and expressed a great desire to hear his story.

" We must drink first," said he, as the little old woman placed two small tin dip- pers and a flask upon the table. " My name is Ebenezer Longfellow ; what mought be yours !"

" Henry Didimus, at your service," said I, somewhat surprised at the boatman's abrupt move towards a better acquaintance.

" So so," replied the old captain, nod- ding, and raising one of the dippers to his lips, while he pushed the other towards me ; " your health, Mr. Did'mus."

" Yours, Captain Longfellow."

" Have you ever drank better*?"

" Never."

" Then you shall have the story."

The reader will find it in the next chap- ter. I have remodelled the boatman's phraseology ; his incidents and descriptioa remain unchanged.

CHAPTER II.

A TALE OF THE OLD NATCHEZ TRACE.

" I have not ty'd myself to a literal translation ; but have often omitted what I judg'd unnecessary , or not of dignity enough to appear in the company of better thoughts." — Dryden.

" If a history, so circumstantiated as that is, shall be resolved into fable or parable, no history whatever can stand secure." — Waterland.

ARGUMENT. The Party enumerated. — Mode of travelling. — Mi- chael la Flore. — The Forest. — The Deer. — Jowler. —Gruff.— Tenor.— The Frenciiman's Wife.— The Potation. — Camping for the Night. — The Robber. — The Contest. — The Eclaircissement.

"It was a cold, overcast, drizzly morn- ing of the month of March, 1816, when I, with six companions, took friendly leave of the ' Boatman's Retreat,' a very good house of entertainment then standing under

ving. Schiller alludes to the same peculiar method of navigation : " Er veschaffto den Schiffen aus Gent, nicht nur einen sichern, sondem auch einen Melhlick kiirzern VVeg zu den Spanischen Qtiar- tieren, well sic nun nicht mehr nothig halten, den weitliinsigen Krummniigen der Schelde zu folgen, sondern bei Gent unniittelbar in die Moor tralen, und von da aus hn Stfckcn durch den Kanal und durch das iiber schwemmte Land bis nach Kalloo gelangten." — Schiller, Balagerung von Antwerpen.

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NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

the ' hiir at Natchez.* There were six of «s : the two Pinis — twins, sir — looked so much alike, couldn't distinguish one from the other; only Ben was just about the ugliest man I ever saw. Such a nose ! I have seen it a mile off, and measured the distance, on a wager. There were six of us, with Ben's daughter, as stout, good- looking a lass as you would wish to see of a summer's day, bating her size, which ■was rather under for one of her years."

" La, Eben !" exclaimed the little old woman.

The boatman did not notice the inter- ruption.

" There were the two Pims weis one, myself was two, John Jones was three, Eben's daughter was four, and Jeems i(James) Wilson was five."

The boatman put his hand to his fore- head.

" Certainly there were six of us," said he, renewing the enumeration upon his fin- gers. " Myself was one, Eben's daughter was two, John Jones was three, the two ■Pims was four, and Jeems — well, well, there is a slip of the memory somewhere : let that pass. We had a long journey be- fore us, four hundred and eighty-seven miles from Natchez to Nashville, accord- ing to my reckoning ; but we were well mounted on strong horses, and well armed. We had five thousand dollars in the com- pany, all in hard silver. The old ' Bank t)f the United States' then had a ' Branch' at Orleans ; but there were so many coun- terfeits on its ' bills,' we would not trust them. The five thousand we divided into five parcels, enclosed each in a stout can- vass bag, and, rolling them in our blankets, made the whole fast to the pummels of our ■saddles. When travelling, sir, always fast- en your valise to the pummel of your sad- dle ; the horse bears ir, better ; his loins are aio place for an extra weiglil. We jogged ?ilong, at an even pace of thirty-five and forty miles a day, halting at the regular stands, and meeting with no incident of importance, other than straining our rifles ■over a hollow of some six hundred yards after a stray deer, which would at times cross our path, or swimming a creek. When you have occasion to swim a creek, sir, draw but lightly on the reins — he will keep his own nose out of the water — and give hini his way. You will be the safer for it. We passed Fort Gibson, Grindstone Forge, Choctaw Line, Choctaw Good- spring, Osborn's, Dinsmoie's, Breschin's, Ward's, Doak's Stand, and Choat's.f and on the evening of the fourth day drew up at Little French Camp, before the door of

* The boatmen of 181C travelled the coast -road to Natchez, or, crossing Lake Ponchartrain, started from the small town of Madison.

+ The names of the " stands" at that time upon the ■« track"

Michael la Flore, a crooked-backed French- man, who had moved in among the Choc- taws, taken a squaw to his bed, and settled down upon the track ; perhaps with the hope of finding happiness among savage.s, or, more probably, with the intention of amassing a competence by selling the ne- cessaries of life to travellers. The man had some half dozen negro boys, runaways from the low-country, caught and brought in by the Indians, who hustled about us as we dropped our bridles on our horses' necks and dismounted, eased our beasts of their sad- dles, and made each fast to a black-jack, with a box nailed against its trunk to hold corn. It was a beautiful site the French- man had built upon. His house, a double log cabin, stood upon a natural mound, which fell ofl^'on every side to an even plain of ten thousand acres. And the woods about it, cleared of all underbrush (an In- dian fire keeps that down), resembled long vistas of finely-tapered pillars, with capi- tals of living green, the wild vines twining about their bodies, and hanging from top to top, like festoons upon a triumphal arch ; the ground beneath carpeted with flowered velvet. There is nothing, sir, in the art of the cities which can vie with the handi- work of Nature in her deep woods ! Her colouring is the rainbow, and the tracery of her fingers lighter than the single web that crosses your path at noonday, floating and glittering in the sun. And then, if you wander into her more inaccessible recesses — where the seal of time is strong and vivid upon everything about you ; where trees of a century'.=^ growth lie prostrate, their trunks in every stage of decay, heaped one upon the other ; where whole forests have crumbled into dust — you stand in the very temple of God !

" Pardon me, sir," continued the boat- man, brushing aside the moisture which glistened in his eye, " but when I refer to my past travels in the woods, the same sort of feeling will come over me as then often unmanned me, as I trudged along in solitude through some deep glen or dell, thinking of Him who made these things.

" The Frenchman," said the captain, re- suming his story, " was salting his cattle,* of which he owned some hundreds, as we came up."

" ' How do, Cap'n Longfellow' — I was an old customer — ' how all do T Vat news from Orleans 1 Valk into de cabine — Jean- net, supper for six. You tam plack rascal, vy you no pigger fire in de chimney 1 'tis Mars» not July — vill you take a little vis- key V

" The Frenchman's hcspitality was open, if interested ; and we did not scruple to tax it, knowing that a few hard dollars would, in the morning, cancel the obligation.

* The expression will be understood by a farmer.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

11

That man, sir, was a true model of a land- lord ; and if he had not buried his genius in a forest, he might have attained emi- nence in a city.* A large fire was soon blazing upon the hearth. The evening was cold, and we had come in well bundled up in big coats and comforters ; but our outer garments soon gave way to the genial in- fluence of the heat, and all, excepting my- self, sat lolling lazily over the backs of their chairs, waiting the appearance of sup- per. I had fallen into a brown study, and stood, half conscious, watcliing the moon, which had just risen, and was struggling Tip through the forest, flinging a beam, now and then, where the foliage was thinnest, into the unglazed window before me. Her orb was full that night, and one might see a goodly distance into the wood. How still it is, said I, involuntarily ; the wind does not breathe, and nothing is to be heard but the low moan of the air, which, like the sea, is never hushed. As I spoke, a deer sprang from his lair, and, with nose erect, and its branching horns thrown back so as to rest upon its shoulders, came lo- ping in an even line directly towards me. At another time I should have resorted to my rifle ; but it had closed in towards the settlement at night to avoid the wolves, and I would not betray its confidence. It is strange, said I, observing that the ani- mal turned neither to the right hand nor tlie left, but kept straight forward, as if de- termined to make my acquaintance. The report of a rifle struck sharp upon my ear, the deer leaped into the air, and fell dead beneath the window. My compan- ions started from their seats. He is dead, said I."

" ' Who V inquired they, pressing around me.

" ' The deer.'

" ' Pshaw !' exclaimed a gruff voice from ■without, ' you have won the bet.'

'' ' How !' replied a second, in tenor ; * didn't hit him in the head, eh V

"'No!' said the one in gruff; 'wish I had staked on the heart — tliat's my game !'

" ' Hush !' said tenor ; ' we are just under the window !'

"'That shot will secure us a night's lodging, I take it !' said gruff. ' Here, Jowler! here, Jowler! .lovvlerl Jowler!' and the voice died suddenly away, as if the speaker had turned a corner of the building. The next moment two men en-

* A descendant, perhaps a son, of the Frenchman

now lives upon the same spot. He was captain over

one portion of the Choctaw tribe of Indians prior to

their removal beyond the Mississippi ; but has since

become a planter of cotton, holds large possessions,

and was, a few years since, selected to represent the

county of Carroll, in which he resides, in the Legisla-

*■ '! tate. He is of mixed Indian and white

' 1 illustration of the fact that the race is

:apable of civilization.

tered the room, followed by a large blood- hound.

" ' Good-evening, gentlemen !' said he of the gruff voice ; ' it is cold, and your fire looks cheery !' Then, doffing a close otter cap, he turned back from his fore- head a mass of long, coarse black hair, which fell, in heavy ringlets, almost to his shoulders. Tenor nodded distantly to our company, and, with much seeming bash- fulness, imitated the example of his com- panion, who had thrown himself into a va- cant seat before the fire ; and for a few minutes both were intently engaged in ameliorating the temperature of their fin- gers.

" Grutf was much above the ordinary size, compactly built, with no superfluity of flesh about him, but of muscle that might have strung a tiger. His features were massive, heavy, hard — harder than the nether millstone — and they spoke his soul. Tenor was a mere boy ; he had a girl's face, and his hand was more like a wom- an's than a man's; and his form, too, not- withstanding the concealment of a rough dress, was strangely light and airy. A maid, just budding into womanhood, might have thought him handsome ; but I do not like to see in our sex the lineaments of the other. Both the strangers were plainly, rather coarsely dressed, in apparel fitted to the season and the journey, and were apparently unarmed, excepting a long rifle, which the larger of the two seemed chary of parting with, as he still held it reclining within the hollow of his arm.

" ' Here, Jowler !' said Tenor. The dog crouched beneath the boy's feet.

" ' You killed a deer just under the win- dow V said I, addressing Gruff.

" ' Aha ! you saw that, did you ? A pret- ty shot — two hundred yards by moonlight ! The dog had got upon his track, and start- ed him. He is a still creature, sir! makes no noise — says nothing — does not open — goes straight forward to his object. I al- ways know when he has struck a scent, sir; he stops, turns round, and looks up into my face, as much as to say, " I have found it !" '

" ' A valuable dog that,' said I ; ' have you any more of the breed "?'

"The stranger smiled.

" ' Well, well, jesting aside, you may teach a dog anything! Here, Jowler!'

" The dog sprang to his feet, and eyed his master.

" ' Take this rifle, and set it up in yonder corner !'

" The dog grasped the rifle firmly by the breech, held it erect, and walking sedately across the room, set it up against the w-all in the corner designated.

"'It is wet!' said the stranger, holdmg out liis cap ; ' hang this over its muzzle I'

" The dog took the cap, and, crossing to

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NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

the corner, dropped it upon the floor. Then grasping the rifle as before, he brought it down gently, fixed the cap as directed, and replaced the weapon in its former position.

" ' I want that cap and rifle,' said the stranger.

" The dog returned them to his master.

" ' And now, gentlemen,' said the stran- ger, ' please to examine this breech ; the dog knows that I am rather nice about the tool, and would not be well pleased to see it scarred.'

" There was not the mark of a tooth upon it !

" ' Will you now believe the dog knows when to hold his peace V continued the stranger, looking into my face with a leer.

" ' A rare animal that,' said I ; ' shall I put you down twenty-five hard dollars for himr

" 'Not a thousand."

" The door opened, and three black girls brought in, sat out, and arranged the sup- per-table— lighted by two boys bearing huge torches of pitch-pine — a sort of can- dle much used to this day. All was in readiness, and waited only the coming of the landlady. She soon made her appear- ance ; a beautiful Indian of twenty years ; tall, slim, regular features, a fine forehead, piercing eye, high cheek bones, a mouth like a bow, softly-moulded chin, and her long, straight, black hair flowing upon her shoulders and down her back like Eve's in the picture. She moved along the floor, her eyes drooping, like a fawn half tamed, and, though inclined to trust, you looked every moment to see her start aside and fly off", from whim or fright.

"'And how is my lady since we last met V cried the stranger in gruff, rising from his chair and mechanically moving it towards the supper-table,' while he fixed his eye keenly upon the Frenchman's wife.

" An involuntary movement passed through her frame as the voice struck her ear ; and when she raised her eyes and looked upon the speaker, they burned like coals of fire.

" ' I was fearful,' continued the man in gruff", ' that I should not settle for my fare in the morning, after the usual way ; but Jowler, who knows as much of his mas- ter's wants as he does himself, started a rare one just on the rise of the hill ; 'tis a fat buck ; an inch on the ribs.'

" ' Me the gun hear ; me know your shot,' replied the fair Indian, clothing the soft, silvery tones of her voice in a smile. 'Will eat r

" We did not require a second invitation, and were soon in the midst of the repast, conversing at intervals of things in gen- eral, the times, politics, trade, and the Toad. We were going to Nashville, the strangers were travelling in an opposite direction, and were well pleased to have

fallen into our company, even for a night. But there was something about the larger of the strangers I did not like ; yet I could not well tell myself what it was. His hair looked unnatural — so long, thick, and heavy — while the head of his companion was shorn so close you could not have lifted a lock with your thumb and finger; however, the supper passed off" kindly, and, after hanging an hour about the fire, ' It is nine,' said I, addressing my party ; 'shall we camp^ Such was the custom upon the road ; the stands were small, and were at night wholly occupied by those who kept them. The stranger in gruff proposed a mug of warm whiskey before separating. We would not decline the po- tation.

" ' I have a trick at mixing which will tickle your palates,' said the stranger, taking the well-filled beaker from a slave who had answered the call.

" The hot water and the sugar were added openly enough — there was no secret about it — yet when he filled and passed round, there was a taste, a something I did not relish ; it was like burned cork.

" ' Rather nutty, stranger,' said I.

" ' All the better ; the barrel was charred. Always char the cask for good whiskey.'

" ' I thought so,' said I.

" He looked rather queer, but as Ben Prn, who was esteemed a good judge in such, matters, drank with a smack, ' I let it pass.'

" ' Did you drink your mug dry V said I to Pirn, as we were making arrangements to camp for the night.

"'Yes, I did.'

" ' I am sorry for it.'

" ' Why so V

" ' There was medicine in it.'

" ' Fudge,' said Pirn.

" ' I hope so,' said I, and turned away ta collect a bundle of twigs for my bed. Never spread your blanket on the naked ground, sir ; the earth is always damp. I knew a man who, by neglecting that pre- caution, caught a disease which changed him wholly to bone — head, body, limbs, and all.*

" We slept on the leeward side of the rise, with a fire at our feet to drive off the chill air. The night was cold, and the wind had begun to rise ; yet the broad sky was our canopy, and we did not wish to lay our heads upon pillows softer than our silver ; it was safer there than elsewhere. Ben's daughter was on one side of her father, I was on the other. How she slept is a wan- der. Ben's nose ! it was like distant thun- der, sir. I have known it to shake a build- ing from the roof to the cellar, and have felt the jar myself. I looked a long while into the blue heavens, and watched the sl-

* Professor Silliman, in his Travels, speaks of similar facts, related to him by a collector of ana- tomical preparations.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

13

lent stars, wondering why the lights of some flashed, while others burned with a steady flame ; that is still beyond my phi- losophy. The owls answered each other, as if conscious that their music grated on my ears ; and the shrill cry of the wolf — howl ! I have heard men say that a wolf howls — such men, sir, never travelled in the forests of Mississippi — and I had a sus- picion hanging about me. It cost many a turn before watchfulness gave way to wea- riness ; but finally I, like the rest of my company, sank into a deep sleep, Ben's nose sounding in my ears like the hum of a fly-wheel.

" Phew ! what a roar I it was like a young bull's under the torture of the marking-iron. ' The withered Frenchman has taken time by the forelock, and is branding his cattle by moonlight,' said I, half waking ; and with a curse upon my lips against so hea- thenish an operation, I was again fast sink- ?ng into sleep, when I felt some one fum- bling about my arms, as if he would have put a cord about them. You may sleep be- neath a thunder-cloud, sir, yet the settling of a mote will wake you. I sprang to my feet — the man in gruff' stood before me, his left foot resting on Ben's nose ; it was a mere chance — he did not intend it — he could not well have avoided it, it was so large ; his right advanced, and slightly bending, as if just recovering from a stoop- ing posture. In his hands he held a cord ; there was no time to be lost ; his costume had undergone a change since we parted, and his side arms were hanging belted about his waist ; mine were with my sil- ver ; I had rested my head upon them ; I closed with my antagonist ; he was strong — a giant, sir ; but these limbs had then also some strength."

The boatman rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, and exposed an arm ridged with muscle.

" I was a boy, then, of thirty-five ; now I am sixty. The struggle was desperate. When two men of courage and strength are matched, there is something fearful in the contest. Twice the stranger tugged at his belt, and I as often prevented his at- tempt to draw. We now stood like two wrestlers skilled in the art — life dependant on the fall. There was no trusting to the little tricks of the ring, no relaxing of the hold ; where the grasp once fastened it re- mained. Every muscle strained, the veins swollen, we stood, toe to toe, looking into each other's eyes. This could not last long. ' Cleante,' cried the stranger. He was an- swered by a shrill whistle, and the boy in tenor fell dead at our feet. The ebbing life's-blood spurted high into the air, and faUing, covered us like rain ; the dog stood over his master and lapped the wound. Our hands relaxed their hold, our arms fell from each other. The stranger looked

upon the corpse, groaned, turned, and fled.

" ' Send a ball after him, Eben,' said a soft voice at my side. Ben's daughter was there. With one hand she presented a rifle, in the other she held a knife reek- ing with blood. I raised the piece to my shoulder — it never miscarried before : but when one aims at a man, there is a blur on the vision. ' And what is that on the knife V said I to Ben's daughter.

" ' The boy's blood. Did you not hear his whistle 1 1 awoke with the first cry of my father, and watched every movement. The larger stranger had bound all the company, excepting you and myself, and I feared lest you also were about to become his victim. But when I saw you rise and close with the stranger, I watched my time ; the boy could not be far distant, and would come when called. He did so, the dog following close at his heels ; as he passed where I lay, I sprang upon him, and buried this blade in his side. The horses he held when called yet stand, ready harnessed, behind yonder tree.'

" One horse stood there ; the other was gone. We unbound our companions, and, with much shaking, brought them to a knowledge of what had happened. We then took up the youth's body, and carried it within the house. The withered French- man opened his coat to examine the wound, and displayed the full, budding breasts of a woman ! Yes, the boy was indeed a wom- an," cried the boatman, starting from his seat ; " the stranger in grufl^ was Joseph Thompson Hare, who was finally hanged at Baltimore, for a robbery of the United States mail, in 1818 ; and my wife, in the corner there, is Eben's daughter. Come, Nanny," he continued, seizing the little old woman by the waist, " step out, step out. My wife, Mr. Didimus ; Mr. Didimus, Nan- ny ;" and he kissed the little old woman on each cheek, danced round her three times, and, raising her in his arms, sat her down upon his own vacant seat.

" To Nanny's health ! may she live a thousand years !" cried the boatman, refill- ing the dippers.

I drank the toast with a hearty sood will. ^ ^

" May we meet again," said I, stepping upon the narrow plank which led from the boat to dry land.

Captain Longfellow took my hand, press- ed it more warmly than before, and bowed.

" Good-morning."

" Good-mornin'."

That man has lived from his childhood upon the Mississippi. He knew every winding and islet from the mouth of the Ohio to the Gulf, long before the labours of Fulton were appreciated. He has been tiio architect of a hundred boats, has met and mastered a thousand dangers, and de-

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NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

livered a hundred cargoes in safety and good order. Yet he is not rich, and never was ; it is unnecessary to say, he never will be. The freight disposed of, his tem- porary habitation sold to the lumber-mer- chant, or at the wood-yard, he would, in times past, repair to the gaming-table, and squander in a night tlie gains of months of toil and danger; then turn, with a laugh, a jest, or a song, shoulder his rifle, and plod his weary way homeward, more than a thousand miles, over long and dreary roads, through dense forests, and along Indian trails, to build anew, again embark, again float down the stream, again sell out, again gamble, and again plod — a ceaseless round — thp horse at the cistern.

CHAPTER III.

"We venture somewhat farther into this strange land."— DaMPIEr's Voyages.

ARGUMENT. '"^

The Levee continued.— Steamboats. — P'ultoii. — The Bowie Knife.— Oysters.— An Irish Rc^vv.— Its Con- sequences.—Mrs. O'Toole. — Shriving.' "'■-

I HASTEN over piles of lumber, old flues, barrels of pork, and hogsheads of tobacco, to that part of the quay which is most pe- culiarly characteristic of New Orleans ; an index of its future greatness : a living, vis- ible story of what are its resources, and what it is to be. The daily-increasing cluster of merchantmen which lie moored hard by, waiting a freight of pressed bales, look as if they had deserted their fellows, and strayed frorn their proper station. Some few years sin<?6 a Yankee captain, smarting under the inconvenience of a self- ish French policy, bid defiance to the port laws, cast off his hawsers, and, deserting the French, bore away for the American port of the city. Les Francais were thun- derstruck. Should the Yankee's assump- tion of " the responsibility" be overlooked and the example become contagious, the glory of their quarfer was gone forever. But in the midst of the levying of fines and the paying them, the city was reorganized by legislative enactment, and the three municipalities sprung into existence. Lit- igation was dropped, and the Yankee per- tinaciously retains his position with a now numerous " sail" of backers.

" That part of the quay which is pecu- liarly characteristic of New Orleans," I mean the steamboat landiner Here all is action ; the very water is c vered with life. Huge vessels float upon us bosom, which acknowledge none of the powers of air, and wait no tide. One is weighed down to the guards with cotton — a freight of three thousand bales — one hundred and eighty th(*iisand dollars ! Twenty more lie side and side, laden with the same pre- cious, gambling, national, ruinous com-

modity.* The twenty-first has just ar- rived, and is puffing, blowing, and wheel- ing in the stream, seeking a mooring. She is covered all over ; a mountain of cotton ! Docs its consumption keep pace with its growth 1 What will be the effect of bring- ing into cultivation all the productive land of Mississippi, Arkansas, Alabama, Louis- iana, and Texas 'if Terra ingens et Inter- minata ! The southerner may well trem- ble for the future : a market glutted, with- out the possibility of a recovery from the surfeit. The planter can never grow silk ,- that requires a poor, dense, white popu- lation ; and he can never grow wine, for his soil will produce none but an inferi(;»r grape, which will not cover the cost of slave labour.J

Huge piles, bale upon bale, story above story, cover the Levee. A gang of lusty negroes is still adding to a heap of tea- thousand — $600,000 — unguarded, unpro- tected ; the winds fan it, the rains beat upon it, the sun bleaches it, the bagging and the rope rot and fall off; a consignee i at Liverpool, who is accust9jTJ€id;to handl6'' the commodity so preciously, would rwvi* stark mad with imagining one half of whaft is here to be seen. 't

Pork without end ; as if Ohio had emp-' tied its lap at the door of New Orleans. Flour by the thousand barrels ; rolled out upon the quay, headed up, pounced up)On by the inspector, who pierces each through and through with a long hollow tubjfe-, ■ well calculated to bring away his peV- " quisites. A large area is covered \;^ith these two products of the up-country, E^'d still appears seemingly undiminished, ^ though the seller, the buyer, and the dray-, man are busy in the midst of it. ^"

H'ere is a boat freighted with lead from' Galena ; another brings furs and peltry from the head waters of the Missouri — A three thousand miles to. the northwests'' When I contemplate the Vast re'gion;^/" country which is now just opening to cul^ tivation, and of which New'Orleans is the

* Of all those who traffic in the raw material of cotton, the grower .and manufacturer appear aloi)e really to secure wealth. The great body of specular.' . tors, after many reverses of fortune, generally retix.pf'' irretrievably ruined.

t Texas, from the extent and superiority of its soil, the congeniality of its climate, and the great and daily increasing influx of population from the.^ planting sections of our country, will probably, in lesS: than a quarter of a century, send more cotton to mar- ket than is now produced in all the Southern States.

X Wme has been attempted to be grown, with equal want of success, in nearly all of the states; a fact which would seem to demonstrate the unfitness of our soil for its production. Upon the Continent of Europe, two adjacent vineyards will produce wnnes of a very different character and quality, thus proving- that more is dependant upon locality than upon the method of cultivation. 'I'he best wine of this coun- try is grown in North Carohna; it posses.ses the mildness and flavour of Muscat, without its cioymg^ sweetness.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

15

natural mart, I find it impossible to set limits to the city's future increase ; how can I resist the conclusion that at some and not very distant day northern prod- ucts will be here collected in such quan- tities as will reduce its present great staple of export to an inferior rank in mercantile importance.*

I could not have found an occasion more appropriate than the present to speak of the merits of that man who first applied steam to navigation. The creations of his genius are before me ; and I stand amid the traffic of a city which owes its increase mainly to the success of his labours.

It is not necessary to look abroad in or- der to appreciate tlie extent of. the debt which commerce, agriculture, every de- partment of the business of life, owe to the memory of Fulton. I will merely allude to the nature of the carriage upon the Mis- sissippi prior to 1812 ; to the sparsity of a population scattered over immense tracts, unsubdued by the arts of culture, and ex- isting in a state of territorial dependance. What was at that time a voyage of montiis, performed with infinite toil and hazard, is now but a voyage of days. The keelboat is even retiring from the smaller water- courses ; and where a few thousand miles were traversed with much difiiculty and small profit, steam now visits its thirty thousand, scattering wealth throughout all its path. A population of one million has grown to seven millions ; towns and cities have sprung into existence, and territories have assumed the form of independent states. There grows not a hill of corn west of the Mississippi which may not be referred to the labours of Fulton ; and of the millions of our citizens, now enjoying the benefit of life upon the banks of that river and its tributaries, it is not too much to say, that two thirds would never have been blessed with existence, had not he despised the scoffs of ignorance, and been too conscious of the reality of his inven- tion to be turned aside by charges of folly and madness. He has made the great Mississippi Valley what it now is ; and yet, we may travel from the junction of the Alleghany and Monongahela, orthe Springs of the Mississippi, or the head- waters of the Missouri, through a country which is all his own, to a city which is indebted to him for what it is, and for what it is to be, without meeting a single monument erected by gratitude,! and without hear- ing his name once syllabled by those

* Unless the projected railroad from Charleston, S. C, 10 Cincinnati shall create a new and success- ful competitor for the mart of those products.

t .'^n intelligent foreigner lately asked whether the city had yet erected a statue to Fulton. He was refevred to the foot of Canal-street— the Steamboat Landing— " Those are his monuments," said he, " but you have raised them laiher for your own gain than his honour !"

who are hourly reaping the harvest for which he toiled.

I touch Canal-street, the dividing line between the American and French inter- ests. The population of the quay thick- ens. The staple productions of the river states lie piled about me in masses. The huckster cries his wares, and a show-box attracts the eye at every step, with its glit- tering contents of old watches, gewgaws^. Arkansas toothpicks, and bowie-knives.

" Do you visli to buy V cried a little, thin-legged man, with a verjuice, coppery- face, in a villanous Jewish accent. He had watched my ej'e, and spoke, as he sawr it rest upon his wares.

A beautiful bowie lay within his case, mounted with silver. I pointed to the weapon.

" Aha, you will kill," said Verjuice, handing me the knife.

I drew the blade from its sheath ; it was of excellent workmanship.

"It is best to have these things," said L.

Conscience said " No."

"The city's reputation is bad."

Conscience said " Fudge."

" One might find occasion to use them."

Conscience said, " It will be of your own seeking;" and I returned the bowie to its owner.

Perhaps there is not one among those into whose hands these pages may rea- sonably be expected to fall who has not. seen a bowie-knife ; yet, as the opinion of society, even here, appears to be rapidly setting against its open exposure and sale in the market, I may be permitted to give the reader a hasty sketch of a weapon, which will enter, largely into the story of the. manners of our country, and be here- after spoken of as the anomalous product of an unsettled age, whose introductioa into the West set the laws at defiance, and retarded the progress of good order and re- finement a quarter of a century.

Thp blade measures twelve inches ia length, fashioned of excellent material — the true Damascus was never better, lis- edge is keen, smooth, and so perfect, a barber might use it in his trade. The point is curved and hollowed at the back, cutting both ways, like a two-edged sword. It, is two inches broad at the heel, and of pro- portionate thickness. Its weight alone is sufficient to give effect to a descending;, blow ; and a child, thus armed, might well, intimidate a man of strength and courage. The Roman short-sword conquered the world. The Turkish cimeter at ene time threatened the liberties of Europe, and the- destruction of Christianity. The bowie- knife combines the superior qualities of both its predecessors ; the downward blow and home-thrust lopping a limb or piercing the stoutest armour, and the light sabre- stroke halving a silken cushion, or sever

16

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

ing a*liead with an ease and rapidity which leaves the hapless loser half nnconscious of his loss. Among the many means in- vented for man's destruction, it is the most effectual in execution, the most fearful to the sight and imagination ; and should its right use and exercise ever be made a part of the military education of our common soldiery, it will render them the most for- midable body of men that ever moved upon a field of battle.

I walked forward. The clerks of the boats, with little paper books in their hands, and busily engaged in every direc- tion discharging freight ; and the clerks of the mercantile houses, also with little paper books in their hands, are busily en- gaged in every direction receiving con- signments.

The houses themselves — the specula- tors in corn, flour, pork, whiskey, and mo- lasses (cotton, sugar, and tobacco are man- aged elsewhere), are scattered sparsely over the quay. Irish draymen, of whom there are upward of two thousand in the ■city, are driving to and fro, Jehu-like, break- ing all the ordinances at once, cursing and railing, lashing their poor beasts, and not unfrequently, and with more propriety, lashing each other. Oyster-houses, small sheds, dot the inner margin of the quay. They are supplied from the numerous lit- tle bays which indent the gulf in the vi- cinity of the Mississippi, yielding the fish in immense quantities, and of a fine quali- ty : citizens- of every class, tribe, and col- our— the merchant and his clerk, the di- vine, the lawyer, and the physician, the captain and his crew, the hackman and his patrons, the master and the slave — maybe there found partaking of the luxury in ev- ery form, fresh from the shell, fried, stew- ed, and baked.

" An' och, my darlin', are you the child to take away that same V. cries an Irish cartman to his brother, who is raising a barrel of flour to ^is dray.

" An' it is you, it is, that'll say no to me 1" says the second, tugging at his load.

" If ye be a man, by St. Pathric and the Yargin, I'll bate ye like a sack."

The barrel is dropped like hot iron ; their loaded whips are shifted end for end — to it, brave hearts — pellmell, clip clip, tuck tuck, smash smash, their blows may be heard at a distance of three squares ; the battle thickens — the combatants in- crease : Irish draymen spring up armed from the ground, and take sides by instinct.

Sccvitque aniniis ignobile vulgus ; jamque faces et saxa volant, furor arma ministrat ; »he clerks close their paper books — the merchant speculators give in to curiosity — the poor negro, whose true position the Irish labourer has usurped, and who hates an Irishman as he hates death, yells joy and grins approbation. Les gens d'armes,

a body of police, whose chief qualification is to speak no language intelligibly, hover in the distance — and this is a scene upon the Levee.

An affray intoxicates an Irishman ; the sound of blows acts like magic upon his nerves. As some men, from long habit, cannot resist the sweet enticements of brandy, so an Irishman, however peacea- bly disposed, cannot resist the allurements of a row. The remark is based upon ex- perience, upon the observations of travel- lers, of men noted for their acuteness in the estimate of character ; it is part and parcel hdminis, without which an Irishman would not be what he is.

There is a certain inborn, ingrained pro- pensity, which urges him within the vor- tex of rowdyism as mysteriously, and, withal, as irresistibly as the magnetic prin- ciple draws the needle to the pole. And he is made of most endurable stuff. He may be mauled from morning to eve, and his intellects will appear all the brighter for the castigation. He will come out of the fight shaking his ears like a well-bred bull-dog, swearing by St. Patric that he has, as yet, had but a taste of the sport — they do these things better in Ireland. He will,.in the course of twelve hours, encoun- ter more mishaps than befell Mendez Pinto in as many years. " The Marquis of Water- ford is a complete impersonation of Erin ; and even his title is a bull," said I, closing the train of thought which had naturally sprung from the past scene of riot.

" In faith, my honey, is it nothin' at all at all, to stand a botherin' o' bulls when the sowl in a fellow-cratur is aboot lavin' his body !"

I looked sharply around me, in search of the owner of the voice which had so uncourteously assumed the right of chiding my meditations, and now first observed, curled up under the lee-side of a heap of paving-stones, something which had the semblance of humanity about it. I ap- proached, with some little misgiving, this new object for my investigation, which lay much like an opossum, feigning a total dis- interestedness towards worldly matters, and, after a close scrutiny of some min- utes, was about giving over the examina- tion to others, more skilled in the myste- ries of natural history, when the animal favoured me with a grunt, and, opening an eye, enabled me to discover the true posi- tion of its head.

"A sad case!" said I, sympathetically, recognising in the lump before me a vic- tim of the Iri-sh row.

The eye, which was red and fiery, an- swered the remark more expressively than words, and said, as plainly as an eye could say, that, although it lacked the strength, it had the will for a little more of the fun.

"Will you die here, or shall I remove

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

17

you to quarters more suitable to your con- dition V said I, half suspecting that my taciturn acquaintance was too far gone to exhibit a second specimen of the voice •which had first attracted my attention ; but I was quickly undeceived in my specu- lations.

" Thruly, yur ivery inch a gintlemin."

" Your name V

" Pathric M'Cormic, God bless yur sowl !"

" And where do you live V

" Lave yur askin', is it 1 It's jist where ye find me, I'm thinkin'."

" Where do you boards'

" Ach ! an' it's there ye are, my darlin' ! it's the owld 'oman yur arter — an' a bluth- erin' good body she is, with her two purty ■eyes a blinkin' on each side her reth nose ! it's whiskey that's the cause on't, it is — but the dear crater is sober any day o' the week 'cept sev^^.; The street, yur hon- our— " and the Inslunan sank into a state of insensibility.

There he lay, abandoned, neglected, un- noticed ! The transient glance of the pass- er-by, attracted more by the peculiarity of my position — bending over the body, and laying my hand upon its bosom, to discov- er whether the heart yet beat — than by the every-day spectacle of a mauled truckman.

" It is strange !" said I ; " I should have supposed a sick dog might excite more sympathy."

" Yoti are unacquainted with the city !" said one, with a smile, and passed on.

A dray drove past — I called — the boy* drew up.

" Where is your load ]" asked the boy.

I pointed to the body at my feet.

"Drive to street," said I, seating

myself upon the dray, and staying the Irishman's head in my lap ; and away we whirled up Canal-street, the rattling of carts and carriages, the bustle of business, the mingled voices of every language drowning whatever expressions of pain the sick man may have uttered.

" Drive slower."

" Can't help it, massa ; he won't hold in, his mouth so hard."

" W'hy, you black rascal, you will jolt what little of life there is in the man's body out of it."

" Massa say I loo long carrying loads ; must drive quick ; never fined. Make no sposable diff'erence whether he white man or goods," said the boy, turning to the left, and shooting into an unpaved street, where the soft path, yielding to the wheels, both checked his course and eased the sick man's couch.

" Dis be—"

The street was, as all the streets of New Orleans were a few years since, and as all

* A male negro, whatever may be his age, is, Ittiroughout the slave- holding states, called a "boy." C

which have not been visited by the effects of American enterprise are now, filthy, cut up by deep ruts, lined on each side with a narrow strip of stagnant water, and bor- dered with low, one-story, frame-built dwellings, whose roofs, old, covered M'ith moss, jutting over the footpath, and doors and window-shutters of solid timber, never open,* impart to the whole a most sombre and gloomy appearance. The Irishman's reference was general, j^et I hoped to meet with some one in the street who might recognise the sick man, and direct me to his lodgings. I had passed nearly through its whole length, anxiously watching the couiatenances of the passers by, and of those who, at intervals, went into and came out of the neighbouring houses, as silent as the grave.

" It is a very still street," said I.

" You neber here in de night, I reckon, massa," replied the boy, drawing up before a row of unpainted, black, ancient-looking, wooden buildings, which sat back some thirty feet from the street, and were wall- ed about by a high, close board fence, with an entrance opposite each tenement.

" Why do you stop !"

"You no see her motion, massa V re- plied the boy, pointing with his whip to a large, burly Irish woman, who sat smoking her pipe near the third door in the wall, while a second was dipping mud from the gutter and throwing it into the yard.

" Ask the good woman what she wants."

" Maybe it's no' the carcase iv Pathric M'Cormic you'ld 'ave there ?" screamed the old herridan.

I assured her, after the mildest manner possible, that she was correct in her sup- position, and that, as the man was very much hurt, it would be a deed of charity to show me his lodgings.

" Lodgin's ! It's lodgin's ye'd be arter? The divil a bit, for the matter o' that, had Pathric tasted these sax weeks agone, 'cept the floor o' his dthray. But I'm the 'oman that 'ates him, and you can jist come in wid the dthrunkard."

I accepted the invitation, with many thanks for her kindness, which so won upon her heart, that she loaned me the chair upon which she was sitting, to be used for removing the sick man into the house. As we stepped into the yard, my- self bearing one end of the chair, the mys-

* Towards evening the rambler will find them set just ajar, in a position which enables the quiet, un- obtnisive inmate to catch upon the walls of his room kaleidoscopic portraiiufes of the passers by. The jealous customs of the early Sjjanish colonists yet tinge the manners of the city's native population. I have often admired, while strolling through the French Quarter, the double doors, opening outward- ly, and window shutters of thick plank, peculiar to its dwellings; and have as often had my curiosity excited by a brilliant eye, or a well-turned nose, cas- ually presented before a modest opening of half an inch.

18

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

tery of the woman with the ladle was solved. The whole area, with tlio excep- tion of a narrow path, was covered with filth, and fifteen or twenty hogs, of differ- ent sizes and condition, were turning it over, thrusting their snouts into it, blow- ing, grunting, and eating; apparently well contented to be thus fed.

" Where shall we lay him ?" said I, somewhat puzzled to find an unoccupied spot, in a room of moderate dimensions, filled with filthy beds, old chairs, cooking utensils, pickaxes, spades, and a mass of trumpery beyond use, if not value.

" Adoon the floor ; an' softer bed he never cared to lay his bones on," said Herridan.

" Saftly, hinney ; saftly, saftly, Mrs. O'Throole," said the sick man, as we lay him upon the piece of mattress which the thawing feelings of the old lady finally prompted her to draw into the centre of the room, and spread out for his reception.

" They ha' no bate the crook out o' yiz throat, Pathric. O'Toole is no O'Throole, ye baste."

The sick man groaned.

" Shall I call a physician V

" A physician !" repeated Mrs. O'Toole, with a sneer, at the same time thrusting towards me a chair, as a hint not to be too quick in my movements. " I wid be plased to set my two eyes on the man who is betther than Mrs. O'Toole in that way. Yiz no saw the 'oman, perhaps, wid sax- teen sons all a dthrivin o' dthrays in this blessed city, an' one dauther by Mr. O'Toole that was. She's in owld Ireland at this present time, the darlint."

The sick man screamed with torture. I bent over him, and felt his pulse ; it was feeble. I looked at his face. I had from the first seen but one eye ; both were now invisible.

" He is going!"

"Coin'! Where?"

" To the next world, I fear."

" The blessed Virgin ! and noo confess- ed!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole, starting from her seat. " I'll rin for a praste."

" I fear it is too late."

" I'll call a neighbour.''

" Do."

Mrs. O'Toole returned, after a short ab- sence, with the woman I had before seen throwing mud into the yard, accompanied by her husband and five or six children. They arranged themselves in a circle about the piece of mattress, and looked down upon it in silence.

'' Pathric, my boy !" said the male comer.

The sick man did not answer.

" Pathric, my hinney 1" said the woman ■who had dipped the mud from the gutter.

" Out of the way, ye baste," cried the sick man, accompanying his words with a motion of his liead, as if cracking a whip.

" It's the dthray he's dthriving, it is," said Mrs. O'Toole, wiping her eyes with the skirt of her gown.

" Pathric, my lad, yiz be no hurti" said the male visitant.

Patrick made several attempts to ^eak.

" Thry it agin, my jewel," said the man,

" Dead," said Patric.

" An' ye no confessed !" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole.

" Call fadther— " said Patric.

" It's no forbotherin'," said Mrs. O'Toole. I heartily coincided with the old lady. " Ye will confess to Red ; an' it's all one as a praste in extrimity."

" Ye'U no kirn blather with me," replied. Patric.

He groaned.

Mrs. O'Toole beckoned Red, the male visitant, to follow her out of the room. When she returned, she put her finger upon her lips in token of silence, and, winking with each eye alternately upon the com- pany, approached the piece of mattress.

" Here's a praste, good luck to ye, Path- ric, my darlint."

" Is it fadther—"

" It's no jist him, but a better, Pathric ; jist from the ould counthry, adown by Kil- nadock ; Father O'Shiney it is, my dear."

" Wid ye confiss, an' throw up yer ugly sins, my son V inquired Red, in an assu- med tone.

" Be we wid ourselves V asked Patric. Poor fellow ; he had given over all at- tempts at seeing.

" Th' divil in the wide world else," replied. Red.

" Is Mrs. O'Throole gone V

" Intirely."

"Thin, Fadther. O'Shiney, I'll jist begin at the ind."

" If yir sure it's the right one."

The sick man attempted to turn over, but was unable. He pointed to his mouth Red moistened his lips with a mixture of whiskey and water, and he made the dis- closure which will be found in the next chapter

CHAPTER IV.

THE IRISH.MAN's CONFESSION.

" For he had power of confession, As saide himselfe, more than a curat, For of his order he was licenciat. Ful swetely horde he confession, And pleasant was his absolution."

Chaucek. " 0 blissful God, that art no good and trewe, Lo how that thou bewreyest mordre alway Mordre wol out, that see we day by day."

Ibid. ARGUMENT. Shriving. — The Confession. — Mary. — The Death. "My mother was an honest woman," commenced the dying man.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

ir

" As is her son aflher her," said Red.

" An' dropped me in the hog in Avon, where I lay sax weeks a suckiu' the swate dews iv hivin."

" Och ! none o' yer blather ; would you be made a saint, an' put in the calendar for a miracle 1"

" My mother — "

"An' had ye niver a fadther at alii"

"He nistled in Abraham's bosom afore the likes o' me was born."

•' An' ye kim into this sinful world a pur- ty, cryin' orphin ; better luck to ye ; I'll no' forget the consideration in fixing the spell o' yer bastin'."

Patric groaned dismally.

" Wid ye no' quit blowin' like a stuck pig, ye fool 1 confiss clare ; spake thruth, an' I'll put out a bit o' the blaze."

" I was edikit in the thrue faith."

" Yer purty mother's a saint in hivin."

" An' became a unithed son of Ould Ire- land, wid O'Connell the big."

" Bether and bether."

"An' kilt two Orangemen."

" There go two whole years off purga- thory for that," said Red, striking his hands after the manner of a cymbal.

" An' flid to Amirica."

" Jist the place for the like o' ye."

" Where they swore me a born native, an' dropped me five dollars for my vote for Prisident."

" An' who was the lucky man that got itl"

" In thruth, an' that's more than I can tell ; but he was born in Dublin, an' wrote a big htther to Christ's Vicar, the Pope."

" Another year off purgathory."

" I thin was promoted."

" Aha !"

" At a dollar a day, an' perkesites."

" What might they be ?"

" Bein' carried to all the elections for a hundther miles about, an' murphies found."

And thus the sick man appeared, in the early part of his confession, more disposed to be humorous than grave. Indeed, the " ugly sins" he disclosed were so veiled in excuses, and so interlarded with circum- standtes extenuating their committal ; so frequently interrupted by the adjudgment of purgatorial penances, delivered ex cathe- dra by Red, to be appealed from and set aside by the dismal groans and whining importunities of the criminal ; all clothed in the richest brogue of old Erin, and often set off with the choicest Irish bulls, that I could, at times, have given in to peals of laughter.

Patric had resided some months in New York, where he opened his career by throwing an illegal vote, as above intima- ted, and ended it with committing many a peccadillo which richly deserved hang- ing. He subsequently visited this city, and commenced " with dlhrivin a dthray ;"

and " was no' the boy to worse his condi- tion."

" An' now I'll confess a thrue sin, if yer sure Mrs. O'Throole is no hearin'," contin- ued Patric, after a long pause, which may be said to have appropriately divided the former and more light, from the latter and more serious, part of the shriving.

" Sorry one else thin ourselves," said Red.

"You must know, Fadther O'Shiney," commenced Patric, in an altered and more sepulchral tone, and in a phraseology which seemed to fall from the dying man's lips, purified in proportion to the weight of crime it revealed ; " You must know, Fad- ther O'Shiney, that I loved a young worn- • an in the ould country, who also loved me ; an' whin she learned I was about to flid to ■ Amirica, she kim to my mother's aa' watched at the stile by the fince.

" There was no moon that night ; it was sorry dark ; so I cript from my hiding- place, an' kissed my poor ould mother for the last time, an' received her blessin' upon my head. ' May St. Patric keep you,' said my mother. I dropped upon my knees be- fore her an' prayed. Fadther O'Shiney, I have not prayed since.

" ' Pathric,' said a voice I knew full well, as I stepped over the stile.

" ' Well, Mary V "

Mrs. O'Toole started and changed col- our.

" ' It's kind o' you to watch here alone for the partin'."

" ' Pathric,' said she, ' you must make an honest woman of me before you go, for the swate little crature will come laughin" into the world before you have half cross- ed the water.'

"But there was no time for doing such a thing when the heritics were hot upon the scent ; so I quieted the girl by promises of writin' and sendin' for her whin I should be safe in a land o' liberthy.

" ' May the great God bless ye, an' the one that is to be yours,' said Mary.

" I did not speak, for the words choked in my throat ; an' whin I put my face to hers, our tears mingled ; it was a weak- ness, Fadther O'Shiney, which I am not ashamed of. I came to Amirica an' forgot the girl. I did not write, neither did I hear from her ; an' I had hoped she was dead, whin, about a month since, as I was dthrivin' my dthray home for the night, who should stand by the door but Mary ! I knew her, but she was awfully changed ! She was the purtiest girl in all Killarney whin I parted with her by the stile ; the smallpox had since done its work. ' Mary,' said I, irresolute what course to pursue.

" ' Ah, Pathric ! Patluic !' said she ; ' have f followed you over the broad seas, an' thravelled two thousand miles, the larg- er part of the way on foot, to look on him I

2a

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

love, an' will ye not kim down from the dthray to welcome me V

" ' An' wliose is that swate little jewel in your arms, Mary T

" ' An' whose should it be, but yer own, Pathric 1 It's bether than a year old ; I have brought it in my arms that you might look on it.'

" I got down from my dthray an' kissed the child ; but I could not kiss Mary. She understood it, an' her tears flowed i'ast.

" ' I have not come to ask you to marry me, Pathric,' said she ; ' I did hope that once, but disease has so changed me that I can't expect your love. But this child is yours, Pathrick, an' I wish you to acknowl- edge an' keep it.'

" It was eight o'clock in the evening, an' the devil stood at my elbow. ' An' if I do not acknowledge it, will ye swear it before a justice, MaryV

'" I must, Pathric'

*' I took my horse from the dthray an' put him up for the night. ' An' now, Mary,' said I, ' let us walk to the edge of the river, ■where we can see the boats glidin' up and down; we will there talk over the matter.' Mary put her arm within mine ; we walked to the ind of one of the wharves, an', sit- tin' down, talked till late in the night.

" ' It's cold ; I must go. I'll see ye in the mornin', Pathric,' said Mary, wrappin' an ould cloak about her wasted body, an' huggin' her child to her bosom.

" The hour was still — there was no one about us — the lamps of the city burned dim — the face of the Mississippi was un- ruffled— I could feel the mighty river sweep past in its course — the bells of the boats an' shippin' struck the middle watch.

" ' Mary.'

" ' Well, Pathric'

" ' Did you ever do any great sin V

" She trembled an' pressed the child clo- ser to her breast.

"'Then kneel down here with me, an' let us ask the good God to forgive us.'

" * An' shall the cmld kneel also V

" ' No, it was no sin of his ; clasp it to your bosom, Mary.'

" We knelt. She prayed.

" ' Do you think we are forgiven, Mary V

" ' I hope so,' she replied ; an' risin', I — "

There was the sound of the rattle in the dying man's throat.

" Plunged her, as she knelt pray in' for me an' the little one, into the bosom of the Mississippi. There was a splash ; the cry of a child ; a bubble ; an' the river swept on."

"What may be the young woman's nameV asked Red, after a long silence, and choking in his utterance. The rattle was again heard. " Mary O'Throo— "

Mrs. O'Toole staggered; she would Jiave fallen had I not supported her ; she

attempted to speak ; her utterance was broken, disconnected, indistinct.

The dying man became conscious of our presence and screamed.

"Hellhound!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole, recovering her strength, and springing like a tiger at the dying man's throat. She lay upon him, with her hands clutched about his neck ; his face became livid ; we hast- ened to release her hold ; the man was dead.

" Shall I call a coroner V

" An' is it no' a nat'ral death that he diedV

CHAPTER V.

" Let us do justice." — Jones. ARGUMENT. Police.— Better Order of Things. — To be attributed to American Influence. — The Division of the City into three Municipalities.— Its Effects. — The Ed- itor of the " True American." — Saxon Race.

The incidents related in the preceding chapter naturally lead me to speak of the police of a city which enjoys, even at home, a rather questionable reputation for good order, and whose name abroad is held synonymous with midnight robberies and assassinations. That there was a time when much of what is said of the dangers of New Orleans — its desperate population, its ineflicient police, the inactivity of the administrators of its criminal jurispru- dence— was true, is proved by the very ex- istence of prejudicial opinions now gen- erally entertained, and not lightly resigned, by those who have not visited our city within the last ten years, and who were accustomed to see the gaming-table spread "by authority" at the corners of our prin- cipal streets, and to hear the ringing of silver, as the stakes were lost and won, at all hours of the day and night. But that time has passed by, and, as one somewhat acquainted with all the leading cities of our country, I hope 1 may be entitled to belief when I say, that I know of none whose citizens deserve a higher character for order and general propriety of conduct, or whose thoroughfares are stiller to the ear, and safer to the stranger after night- fall, than that of which I am writing.*

* Of the large number accused of every variety of crime, aiKl annually arraigned l)efore the Cnminal Court of New Orleans, but a very small portion are connected with the city by residence or business. The darker crimes are mostly perpetrated by foreign- ers freshly imported from the prisons of Europe, or by such of the citizens of the river states as. having been long accustomed to a life subjected to little re- straint, suppose that here even such slight checks upon vice as they have been made acquainted with are wanting. For the crimes of such persons, whose characters were formed elsewhere, the resident cit- izens of New Orleans are not answerable. The quiet and security of the city after nightfall is a subject

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

21

This extraordinary change of things is mainly to be attributed to the moral influ- ence of that portion of the city's popula- tion which is strictly American, or of Eng- lish descent. It will be seen, by reference to a note introduced in my first chapter, that the prosperity of New Orleans is to be dated from the day of its purchase from France ; and that its progress in popula- tion, wealth, and good order, has kept even pace with American immigration. It is difficult to eradicate old evils, and it re- quires many years to correct the vicious habits of a whole people ; it has not, there- fore, been, until within the last ten years, that the city has been relieved from those scenes of violence whose memory even now colours its reputation, and makes vogue the reports of transient visiters, who judge without examination, and give to the world as facts the results of a mor- bid imagination.

No event has, of late years, so much ad- vanced the prosperity of New Orleans as its division into three municipalities, giving to each a separate municipal government, with all its attendant powers. This partition has enabled the American portion of our pop- ulation— whose interests lie almost wholly south of Canal-street — to transact business after their own way, untrammelled by French legislation ; and to expend, in the erection of public buildings, in the improve- ment of streets, in a more effective organi- zation of the police, those taxes which were before exacted without an adequate return. The gentleman who first project- ed an arrangement which has judiciously separated the clashing interests of the American and French population, and which gives to the rival energies of each free scope for action, has, as yet, received no reward adequate to his services — I speak of the editor of " The True American" newspaper — " Faithful and Bold" — a mot- to which possesses the extraordinary merit of being characteristic of the man who has adopted it. But it is of the nature of free institutions to forget the individual bene- factor, in an anxiety for the general weal ; and perhaps that quality in their constitu- tion, which subjects them to the charge of ingratitude, is the sole source of those hap- py results which have rendered our histo- ry one of unexampled prosperity. The same power is everywhere at work; and if the march of improvement, which is so plainly observable at New Orleans, is not equally obvious throughout the state, it is because its effects are here compressed within a narrower compass.

There is among the moderns but one race of men who have shown a capacity

of surprise to every stranger, who finds all his pre- conceived notions in this respect falsified, and learns that the tales of violence so rife abroad are not less applicable to New York than New Orleans.

to perfect, by practical application, those great discoveries in science which distin- guish the last few centuries : it is the An- glo-Saxon. That race alone colonizes with success, and never recedes from the soil upon which it has once placed its foot. The very spot upon which I now stand has felt the successive feeble rule of the Spaniard and the Frenchman, only to pass into the possession of a people who, un- like their predecessors, grow stronger with age ; and who, rather than curtail their wants, create the means of supplying them. But if the Anglo-Saxon, like the ancient Roman, is remarkable for the develop- ment of those solid qualities which are the architect of national and individual greatness, he is wanting in the more deli- cate perceptions of taste, which refine the manners as well as perfect the productions of art and literature ; and he seems to halt as far behind the Sybarite, in the conven- tional courtesies of society, as he outstrips him in action. I cannot better illustrate the above remark than by inviting the reader to dine with me at my hotel.

The clock is striking upon 3 P.M., and the passage leading to the dining-hall is filled, jammed, wedged in, with hungry expectants. The gong sounds, and the wedged mass shoulders itself into the room. If you step upon your neighbour's heel, there is no time for begging his par- don ; and if he disarranges your dress, you cannot expect the compliment in return. The chairs of a very long table are all filled, and nothing is heard but the hurry- ing to and fro of servants, and the clashing of knives and forks, and the other colabor- aters of mastication. It is wonderful in how short a time these things may be done ! Five minutes are long enough for a business man to devour his dinner ; and it is not until his appetite is somewhat blunted that he indulges in the sweet enjoyments of table-conversation. Then, indeed, the in- tercourse of intellect commences, and con- tinues to increase in a geometrical ratio, until a confused murmur, with a word, or even a whole sentence, at times distin- guishable, alone fills the room.* The ex- emplification deserves a separate chapter.

* A late female writer upon the manners of the Americans has been accused of painting a caricature, and holding it up to the public as a picture of socie- ^l ty as she found it in the United States. I believe no-j 1 unprejudiced American who has visited the same places, and conversed with the same people which. M rs. Trollope visited, and with whom she conversed, will question the truth of her pencil. The men and the manners which she has so vividly portrayed ex- ist ; the error which she has committed is one of ex- ._ tension, springing out of an illogical reasoning from ip particulars to generals. She has asserted that to be common to our whole country, which is only to be found in confined sections, and draws portraits of Boston after sittings at Memphis.

-22

NEW ORLExVNS AS I FOUND IT.

CHAPTER VI.

"Talking is not always to converse." — Cowper.

" Talkativeness is greatly to be preferred to tacitur- nity, both for our own and others' pleasure." — Knox.

" I believe those men who possess brilliancy of conversation in the highest degree are such as do not advance beyond elementary truths." — Stewakt.

ARGUMENT. Table-talk. — The Respectable-looking-old-Gentle- man. — Prospects of the City. — '■ Bob." — City of Alabama. — Town-projecting.

" Beans !" says one.

" Sugar !" cries another.

" Lead—"

" Five thousand sacks of corn — "

" The Mogul, freighted with flour — " says a snub-nosed man, in a mealy coat, at the head of the table.

" Sold fifty hogsheads of medium tobac- co, at one half per cent, advance," cries a long, thin-nosed man, with lips steeped in ambia, at the opposite extremity.

" What do you think of the ginseng V asks a gentleman in red hair and whiskers, some six chairs off at my right.

" A better bargain than the furs," replies another gentleman, in a dirty shirt-collar and new stock, some six chairs off at my left.

" I trust that molasses was not sour," observes a neat, dapper, bandbox little man of forty years, with a very broad ruffle at his bosom, edged with thread lace, as were liis wristbands.

" I knocked the hides down at twenty cents," cries a large, brawny, red-faced per- sonage, bringing his fist down upon the table until it rings again, as if to enforce the fact.

" Can we trade for that shot V asks a mere youngster of fourteen years, picking his teeth with a fork.

" I think I'll try the other speculation, and buy lard," replies an old, white-headed, greasy-looking gentleman of sixty.

"And how did you like the bagging?" cries a large-boned Kentuckian, in green, to his factor, in bl^3, hardly within hailing distance.

" The rope was better," replies Blue, "but don't touch bees' wax."

" Candles are running down, and soap is almost nothing," observes the dirtiest man at the table.

" Colonel, suppose we exchange ; my

lime for your shingles."

/,"'^i, " Can't do it, unless you take the staves,"

*■* '' replies the colonel, who might be taken

for a carpet-weaver, and would sit a horse

like a bag of wool.

" Lost a thousand on butter ; but oats are quick."

" Feathers and flaxseed — "

•' Pickles—"

" Cheese — "

" Sell your beer and castor oil to — "

" This is not much of a market for leath- er " remarks a long, thin-faced man, whose

skin hangs about his countenance in folds, and looks much as if it had passed through one of his own pits.

" And buflfalo-robes merely stop to be reshipped," says a gentleman with a very ashy visage, and who is seized witli a fit of the ague as he closes the obsei-vation.

" And what do you think was his first shipment ■?" asks a thick-set, coarse-look- ing fellow, with his knife and fork, one in each hand, upright, the butt-ends resting on the table.

" Wouldn't undertake to say," drawls out his counterpart, sipping brandy and water

" Hay and vinegar," replies the gentle- man of the knife and fork. " The first mus- ty, and the other as flat as my hand," suit- ing the action to the word.

" Rum," cries a man with a very brill- iant countenance.

" Ale," says another, with a large belly.

" Coal—"

" Wheat—"

" Twine—"

" Iron—"

" Deerskins — "

" Will you do me the honour to drink a glass of wine with me ?" said I, pushing my bottle towards a respectable-looking old gentleman who sat opposite.

The respectable-looking old gentleman accepted the compliment.

" Win you be pleased to inform me, sir, of the cause of this ceaseless reference to many of the articles of trade and staples of life, in which the whole table appears to be so intently engaged T'

" These men," replied the respectable- looking old gentleman, "are planters, farm- ers, merchants, and merchants' clerks, en- gaged in buying and selling the produce of the up-country and the coast, and are con- versing with each other on matters of bu- siness."

"And does the country lying upon the Mississippi produce, and send to this mar- ket, all the products I have here heard enu- merated V

" Upon the Mississippi and its tributa- ries. But you, who have visited the Valley of the Mississippi but yesterday, and found the arts of husbandry already introduced, and in active operation throughout a great and fertile extent of country, have no rea- son to be surprised that this city, its natu- ral outlet, should exhibit a population, a concentration of capital, an activity, a ca- pacity for business unexampled in the his- tory of commerce. Situated upon the largest river in the world, with tributaries having their sources in distant regions, commanding already the trade of twelve provinces, with a stretch of country from which may be created twelve more, its destiny is illimitable. The world has yet seen no city with its natu ' and the time will come v ■ "

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

23

liave seen one more numerous in popula- tion or greater in wealth."

" Smoke him," said one on my left. " He's on his hobby," replied the person addressed.

" I have watched the growth of this city from its kernel," continued the respectable- looking old gentleman, " ever incredulous, astonished, and momentarily expecting a reverse. It has kept steadily onward, un- til no accident, other than a change in the course of the river which feeds it, can stay its progress."

" The old rat !" exclaimed the person on my left.

" How he soaps him," said the other. The respectable-looking old gentleman scowled as if he had caught the last remark, and went on.

" Sir, I remember when the sites upon ■which now stand our finest buildings, and the very places over which now run our most business streets, were a mere mire, a bog, a frog-pond, sir ; and might have been bought for a song. Had I then fore- seen the things which were to be, I might, at this moment, have been the possessor of millions. The rising generation may profit by the short-sightedness of the past," said the old gentleman, drawing from his side-pocket a neatly-folded paper.

" Now for it," said the one on my left. " A rare farce," replied his neighbour. " This plan," continued the respectable- looking old gentleman, unfolding the paper, and spreading it out before me upon the table, " will convey to your mind a faint idea of what is to be the central point of the business of New Orleans. I may not see it ; you will : yes, you will. I am an old man, without direct heirs ; no other con- sideration would induce me to part with an estate of such immense value in prospect — mark me, in prospect — with the present I have nothing to do — it is the great future I look at."

The respectable-looking old gentleman paused, and contemplated with much ap- parent satisfaction the elegant lithograph which gave the metes and bounds of the landed estate he spoke of. It was a well- executed plan of a well-laid-out city. The streets had their names, even the houses were numbered, and the public squares sha- ded with a luxuriant growth of the most es- teemed ornamental foliage ; while church- es and public buildings innumerable dot- ted its surface, like islets upon a mariner's chart. I had supposed I had already vis- ited the different parts of the city, but the map before me induced me to conclude there was one, and that the most impor- tant portion, which had escaped my obser- vation.

" Will you be so kind, sir," said I, " as to inform me whether these streets, squares, and blocks of buildings lie in the German, American, or French part of the city?"

" Excellent !" cried the man on my left.

" Sir, this is a map of neither of those suburbs,'''^ replied the respectable-looking old gentleman, '• but of what is to be the heart of the city. That theatre, sir, Le Theatre des Langues, so called from its ad- mitting on one and the same night repre- sentations in each of the five languages spo- ken by our motley population ; that theatre will stand on the lot now occupied by the ' Red Church.' "

" The Red Church !" I exclaimed, in as- tonishment ; " why, sir, that is twenty-five miles up the coast!"*

The one on my left, and his neighbour, burst into a shout of laughter. The re- spectable-looking old gentleman eyed me for a moment, shook his head, gathered up the map, refolded it, replaced it in his side- pocket, and, as he rose from the table, ob- served, " Some of us may live to see the city mingle with Natchez !"t

There was a great noise at the entrance of the Hall ; a confused mingling of voices — loud talking : " How are ye, Ned V " Right hearty, my dear boy." " Ah ! how are ye, Bob^" together with many other similar interesting questions and answers. The noisy group ascended the room, and, as it approached the respectable-looking old gentleman, a young man, who wore his hat on one side, with an immense breast- pin, and a large chain hanging from his neck, and festooned about the button-holes of his vest, sprang from among his com- panions, and seizing the old gentleman's hand, gave it three hearty shakes. "How are ye, old-stick-in-the-mud?"

* The banks of the Mississippi, within the State of Louisiana, are always spoken of as "The Coast." t New Orleans is yet in its infancy ; what may it not be when the States of the Valley of the Missis- sippi, its tributaries, have developed all their re- sources? Cordova, the seat of the Omrniads, say the historians, occupied a space of twenty four miles in length and six in breadth, along the margin of the Guadalquiver ; and for ten miles the citizens could travel by the light of lamps along an uninterrupted extent of buildings. Surely New Orleans will some day be greater than Cordova has been. But we must distrust the historians when speaking of the extent, the population, or the wealth of ancient cities. El- macin computes the value of the gold and silver, the various wardrobes and precious furniture which fell a prey to Saad when he sacked the Persian capital, Madayn, at 3,000,000,000 pieces of gold ; notwith- standing the Persian monarch, foreseeing the fate which awaited his metropolis, fled to Jelwallah, ta- king with him his family, and the more valuable of his effects. " If we take" each of these pieces at the value of a dionar," says Crichton, " then the whole will be equal to £ J, .387, 500,000 sterling, exceeding, by X139, 159,375 sterling, the total value of gold and silver extracted from the mines of America between the years 1499 and 1803, a period of 304 years. But when we take into account the difference in the value of money then and now, the whole produce of all the gold and silver mines on the globe would not amount to that sum in lfX)0 years." A computation which, notwithstanding Crichton's sneer at the skep- ticism of Gibbon, effectually confutes itself. As a general rule, we should always divide by ten, when reading the historians of past centuries.

24

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

*« Why, well— well, Bob, w^ell. Glad to see you. Have you done anything ?"

" Done anything ! I should rather reck- on I have, if fifty thousand dollars are worth looking at."

The respectable-looking old gentleman brightened up. " Fifty thousand dollars !" said he, examining the young man with the large chain and immense breastpin from head to foot ; " did you touch any money, Bob ?"

" All paper," replied Bob.

The respectable-looking old gentleman looked disappointed.

" Good, though," continued Bob. " Cred- it from one to twenty years, with a mort- gage on the lots — purchasers must build before they die, or forfeit."

A crowd gathered about the two wor- thies, and the respectable-looking old gen- tleman thrust his hand into his side-pocket.

" Can you inform me, sir," said I, turn- ing to the person on my left, " who that respectable-looking old gentleman is 1"

" A well-known character in this city," replied the individual addressed, smiling condescendingly. " The projector of Un- cle Sa7n, an imaginary town lying in the piny woods, some sixty miles to the north- east. A very healthy location, sir ; fine water privilege in cold weather, and des- tined to become the ' Birmingham' of the South — at least the green-grocers on New Levee thought so, and were ruined by the speculation. He laid out ' Bath,' which was to be a noted watering-place ; and is — -for bullfrogs. He has lately got a new crotchet in his head, and proposes to de- stroy Mobile by building up a rival lower down the bay. ' Bob,' the swaggering young man who addressed him so famil- iarly as ' old-stick-in-the-mud' — a title, by- the-way, acquired in his vocation — is his factotum, or right hand. A neatly litho- graphed plan of the ' City of Alabama'— a mere sand-bank, sir, about as fit for a place of trade as the Lv.ach at Nahant — was struck off some months since, and dissem- inated through the country. At the ap- pointed day ' Bob' repairs to the ground, and holds a sale ; and returns, as he has just intimated, with paper to the amount of fift}'' thousand dollars, which will never be paid."

" That must be a losing business."

" Not at all, sir ; on the contrary, it is considered thriving, and one half of our men of capital have gone into it. It is like shooting at a mark— you must sometimes hit. At the South, this kind of gambling works no permanent injury ; for by some strange distortion of taste, or, perhaps, foresight, those locations are alone select- ed which, from their barrenness, or stale of submersion, could not be put to any oth- er possible use ; but at the North, many a fine farm has been turned out to commons.

The old gentleman's history is somewhat curious, and if you are at leisure, and would be pleased to listen, I will recount it."

The noisy group had departed. The person on ray left, with his neighbour, to- gether with myself, and a man in black, with a ministerial air, were all that re- mained of the many who but ten minutes before sat at the same table.

CHAPTER VII.

THE BIOGRAPHY OF THE RESPECTABLE-LOOK- ING OLD GENTLEMAN.

"All is owing to the mercenary, low humour of the times we live in, who, grovellinpf in the baser modes of getting money by fraud and bite, by deceiv- ing and overreaching one another, scorn the glorious ways by which our ancestors grew rich, when they pursued, together with their private advantages, the- humour and interest of their native country, and of their posterity." — Humorist.

ARGUMENT.

His Debut. — Difference with his Consignees. — The Mayor. — French Language. — The Auction. — The Dancing-house. — The Swamp. — Brandy-cocktail. — Doctrine of Derivatives. — Slop-shop Bess. — Charivari. — Community of Acquits and Gains. — Another Rise. — Sues his Creditors.

"That man, sir," commenced the nar- rator, " came to this city in the fall of 1812, the captain of a flat-boat, freighted with to- bacco. The freightage was to be paid b}' the consignees ; but, after the delivery of the cargo at the Levee, a dispute arising as to the good and sound condition of certain hogsheads of the weed, they, after the most mild and respectful manner, informed the old gentleman that they could not, as honest factors of their principals in the up- country, pay his charges without making a liberal deduction therefrom for certain spe- cified deteriorations suflfered by the tobac- co, and caused, as they alleged, by his neg- lect and want of good seamanship.

" Now, although the old gentleman had never before been at New Orleans, or transacted business with a commission merchant, yet, as he was of good parts, and naturally observant, he was not long in comprehending to how great an extent the factors' regard for the interest of their principals influenced their refusal to pay his charges ; so he snapped his fingers in the face of messieurs the consignees, and cried out for the governor of the city.

" ' I am de maire of dis city,' said a slim, bilious-looking, attenuated Frenchman, dressed, a dandy of that age, in the cast-off fashions of the preceding ; ' I am de maire of dis city.'

" You must know, sir, that a Frenchman never speaks pure English. The race is constitutionally, physically, and mentally incapable of acquiring a foreign tongue.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

25

It has been said that the Germans are good linguists, because, when they have mas- tered their own language, they have mas- tered the most difficult; perhaps it may, with equal truth, be said, that the French are bad linguists, because, when they have mastered their own language, they have mastered none at all ; however, you may have your own opinion, I have mine : it is not the want of mind, sir ; the vis animi, furor, they possess more largely than the English.

"The old gentleman made known his grievance ; the mayor leaped upon a hogs- head of tobacco, and put it at once up at auction. ' Who bids for dis fine lot tobac 1 qui offre, qui offre — fifty dollar do I hears ] cinquante piastres — going, allant — cin- quante et une — going, allant — alle.'

" The gentlemen consignees, concluding this was nearly as strong a game as the noted 'open and shut,' or 'heads I win, tails you lose,' paid the disputed bill upon the spot.

" ' You are a very smart man,' said the old gentleman to the mayor, pocketing his money.

" ' Un beau garron,' replied the mayor, * will you join de guard V

" ' Don't care if 1 do,' said the old gentle- man.

" ' Vous parlez Fran^aise et Anglais aussi V

" It is a city ordinance, sir, that a guardsman must speak the two dominant languages.

" ' Ya, monsear.'

" The mayor shook his head.

" ' That's a settler,' said the old gentle- man, winking at the by-standers.

" The mayor looked doubtful.

" ' Ya, monsear,' reiterated the old gen- tleman.

" The mayor, concluding that the words he found it awkward to translate were a Creole or negro corruption of ' la belle lan- gue,' closed with the old gentleman and walked away, thinking he had done the city some service ; and that was the first of the respectable-looking old gentleman's acquaintance with New Orleans.

" But the old gentleman was too shrewd to remain long in the service of the city. He soon discovered, in his capacity of lifter of odd characters, and visiter of respecta- ble houses, that money might be made in a less arduous and more agreeable busi- ness. He therefore resigned his commis- sion, and, with two others, one of whom is now among our largest holders of real es- tate, opened a dancing-house in what was

then called ' the Swamp,' now street.

Were you ever in a dancing-house, sir?"

" Judging of its character from the lo- cality you are pleased to give it, I most probably never was," said I.

"Ah! in the Swamp; eh! always in the D

Swamp, sir. They move as that moves ; or, rather, they keep upon the confines of the city, as your Western pioneer does upon that of advancing civilization. You must become acquainted. I shall be hap- py to give you an introduction some light night ; don't like to visit such places with- out a good moon, for fear of accidents.

" The three worthies succeeded admira- bly ; just enough in number to fill all the offices and save servant hire. One played the fiddle, another beat the drum, and the third dealt out nectar in the form of brandy- cocktail."

" Brandy-cocktail !"

" Ah ! I see ; not acquainted with the mixture ! Boy, bring up four glasses of brandy-cocktail immediately !

" To go on with my story, sir : the three partners succeeded so well, that at the close of a twelve-month they had grown beyond their business ; always the way in this country — no man follows the trade of his father, or his own, longer than he can help it. You may find a man a shoemaker to-day, a dry- goods dealer to-morrow, a lawyer the next day, a divine the day after, and if he ends a state convict you have no cause for surprise."

The slave returned with four partially- filled tumblers upon a waiter, a spoon in each.

" Ah, this is it !" exclaimed the narrator, his eyes glistening with animation ; " help yourselves, gentlemen ; touch* — very fine. Now the difference between a brandy- cocktail and a brandy-toddy is this : a brandy-toddy is made by adding together a little water, a little sugar, and a great deal of brandy — mix well and drink. A brandy- cocktail is composed of the same ingredi- ents, with the addition of a shade of Stough- ton's bitters ; so that the bitters draw the line of demarcation. Boy, bring up four brandy-toddies ; you shall taste the dis- tinction, sir."

I decUned the favour of a second glass.

" You are new to the city, sir ? We all drink ; must do it. Nothing like keeping up a heat within, to counteract the heat without. It is in accordance with the doc- trine of derivatives, and I never knew a prescription after that school to fail. Had a boy of some ten years under my charge — very bright— remarkable head — caught in a shower — took cold — fever set in— set- tled upon the brain — raving mad — sent for a pliysician — prescribed a pair of tight shoes and bri.sk walking, till the toes should blister — carried into effect — boy mended rapidly — second day, repeat — third day, as

♦ A late distin^nishcd representative in the na- tional councils from the State ot Mississippi nearly- lost his life in complying with this Southern cus- tom ; his glass broke in his hand, and he swallowed one of the fragments.

«8

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

clear-heiBled as myself — never sick after- ward!

" The old gentleman stepped from the dancing-house to the slop-shop. It was rising a round on the ladder. He pur- chased out an establishment of long stand- ing, next door to an elderly lady who kept a popular sailors' boarding-house. There was an advantage in it. The two propri- etors might play into each other's hands : a deep game. They did so. This led to an acquaintance which, with the course of time, naturally ripened into mutual esteem. She was rather a large woman — couldn't have weighed much less than eleven stone — with a broad face, pock-marked, red nose, pink eyes, capacious mouth, double chin, pendulous cheeks, bull neck, beruffled and beflounced with costly lace, fine rings on each finger, bating the thumb, a watch at her girdle, and rejoiced in the name of * Bess.' I think I see her now."

" Where V exclaimed I, looking around the hall.

" In my mind's eye, sir. If you see her once, you never lose her picture. The extremes of beauty and ugliness meet. She was one of them. 'Tis said the old gentleman once begged a lock of her hair to string his fiddle-bow, and found it too coarse for his purpose ! However, I never meddle with hearsay ; it is not good evi- dence. How they were married, or when they were married, I would not undertake to say ; although I have understood that the good lady wore two watches on the occasion, with extra rings on her thumbs ; while the old gentleman indulged to such an extent as to mistake the sounds of tin pans, gongs, cracked bells, French horns, clarionets, and all other villanous instru- ments, made by a charivari of some thou- sand strings, for a common Jews'-harp which Bess had unaccountably resolved to play upon for his amusement. Were you ever at a charivari, sir!"

" Never," said i.

" Never ! You should see one. Almost the only rational amusemeftt we have. No fashions in the city. No style. Balls no- thing ; parties nothing. The theatre and the drinking-shop are, indeed, always open ; but the last is too gross, and the first is not always intellectual : so we are, in a meas- ure, compelled to resort to the charivari. You should have visited the city a year since, sir. An old gentleman, well known, wealthy, married a young wife : fine lady —handsome. We congratulated him upon "his good fortune, and politely requested a contribution of five hundred dollars for the support of the Orphan Asylum. Old gen- tleman very crabbed ; wouldn't do it. So we gave him a charivari, ten thousand strong ; all kinds of instruments, from a table-bell to a steamboat : ten thousand -musiciaas, and thirty thousand spectators !

We kept it up three nights, raising two hundred and fifty dollars each niglit to cover casual expenses ; the third night the lady went into fits, and the old gentleman paid the thousand."

" It was an indictable offence."

" Indictable ! Would you indict the whole community! We were, moreover, disguised : a perfect carnival. You would have been amused by the characters. 1 dressed as a cock ; always dress as a cock on such occasions : can enact the part so perfectly. Ecce .'"

The narrator gave a shrill, clear, well- modulated crow. Chanticleer could not have done the thing better.

" Cato ! turn that cock into the yard," cried the landlord, thrusting his head into the door, which he happened to be passing at the moment.

" Admirable !" exclaimed the narrator ; " that man ouglit to know chicken, since he purchases two dozen daily ; yet he is deceived.

" The respectable-looking old gentleman and his wife joined capital ; they became partners in trade : that is a provision of our law. Husband and wife are consider- ed partners in trade, and divide the profits. You are worth fifty thousand dollars, and marry a woman not worth a cent. Sub- sequently to marriage you accumulate fifty thousand more. Your wife dies child- less, without a will. Her fifteenth cousin, whom you never heard of before, comes forward and modestly demands an equal division of the acquits, and obtains it ! An equitable law, that ! However, such has not yet been the case with the old gentle- man. Bess not dead yet, and bids fair to live a hundred years.

" The respectable-looking old gentleman joined capital, and opened a large grocery, ship stores, &c. : another rise ! They suc- ceeded. Luck is blind. I have resided six years in this city, and not made a far- thing. An Irish lad, who polished my boots the first season, is now at the head of one of our heaviest houses ! There must be a next world to correct the ine- qualities and oversights of this : the strong- est argument I know of in favour of a fu- ture life. They succeeded ; and in the course of five years obtained credit suffi- cient to declare themselves insolvent, sue their creditors with a good grace, and clear one hundred thousand dollars by the spec- ulation."

" Sue their creditors !"

"Aha, you don't understand it! The thing is done in this way. You are a gro- cer, and hold goods on credit to the amount of fifty thousand dollars ; you ship twenty- five thousand ' up river' on pretended sales, and dispose of the remainder, part cash, part time ; the cash you put in your pocket, the time you transfer to your • books ;' all

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

27

plain and above-board. Should a friend have stored a few goods with you, all the better ; they will quiet your landlord, and pay the last year's rent. You then write out two schedules, one containing the names of your creditors, with the amount due each — sum total, $50,000 ; the other enumerating your assets, thus :

" Imprimis. — A little ready money, perhaps . $750 " Second. — Five hundred lots in a town laid out upon a quarter section of land lying somewhere, at 100 dollars per lot . . . 50.000 .-•' Third. — Notes drawn by individuals resi- dent in Texas, and endorsed by ditto . . 9,250 ■"Pourth. — Claims upon that government . 15,000

" Total, $75,000

" You put the whole into the hands of a lawyer ; he takes you before the clerk of the court ; you swear that all is right."

"Swear!"

" The swearing is nothing ; oaths are as common as blackberries, and about as much regarded. I might trust in a man's word — his honour would bina him — but, when you require an oath, it is like taking a pledge for loaned money ; the borrower will cheat you if he can. I knew a pro- fessor of metaphysics, who held that it was as morally impossible for one to lie as to jump one hundred feet into the air! That man was acquainted with human nature ! An order of court is made, a meeting of creditors called, syndic appointed, proceed- ings homologated, and you step forth a new man, with a new credit, ready to renew the game, and run over the same track. Thus did the old gentleman. He mounted an- other round, opened a commission-house, received cotton on consignment, specula- ted in the article, and stopped payment a few weeks since for two millions ! It was but the other morning that he purchased strawberries to the amount of eighteen dol- lars for his breakfast-table, and denied his cobbler on the plea of poverty. ' Bess' has grown magnificent, and is now refitting their residence, which covers a whole square. The old gentleman paid, in Paris, a thousand dollars each for his window curtains, and yesterday informed the up- holsterer who put them up that he would iind his name upon his ' schedule V* I Ihmk you will know the gentleman when you see him again," continued the narrator, rising ; " permit me to leave my card with you, No. — . My friend here, the doctor, kills patients, and 1 wind up their estates. Good-evening."

'i'he narrator bowed ; his friend, the doc- tor, followed his example.

" Will you walk r' said I, addressing the ministerial-looking gentleman, who now sat alone at my side.

* He feeds his turkeys upon paccan nuts at ten dollars the barrel, and boils them in Champagne.

The ministerial-looking gentleman call- ed for his hat, and put his arm within mine.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Perhaps it is not to be wondered at that there is in this town a greater mixture of races than can be found elsewhere throughout Asia." — Sir John

MANDEVir-LE.

ARGUMENT. The Levee continued. — Evening. — The Shipping. — No Twilight. — Spanish Colonists. — Livingston's Code. — La Hermosa. — The Quadroon. — The Place d'Armes. — Spanish Sailors. — Little Gio- vanna.

I AM again upon the Levee ; my new- formed acquaintance, the ministerial-look- ing gentleman, walks at my side.

The sun is just dipping into the west, and the broad bosom of the Mississippi is bright with its departing rays, which dance upon its surface, as upon a mirror quivering in the breeze. The busy hum of life is hushing to repose, the whole scene grows mellow, and man, with all of nature, puts on a softer aspect with the closing in of night. A light south wind comes gently from the gulf scented with the sea. All that man has done, and all that man is, is before me. The merchantman and the steamship tell the whole story of art, of science, and of luxury ; of discovery and invention ; of the interchange between na- tions, imparting knowledge, harmonizing manners, creating refinement ; of the ex- change of the products of distant climes, supplying nature, and feeding artificial wants ; of all that has been since 1492. The Cathedral bells are chiming to ves- pers ; the flags of every nation — our own, the English, the French, the Spanish, the Dane, the Russian, the Swede, the Hol- lander, the Free Cities — are run to the mast-head to salute the setting sun. That custom speaks ; the most ignorant sailor understands it ; and, as he sees the shade cover the hull, and creep upward till the colours of his country are alone bathed in light, while all beneath is dark, his better feelings gush forth in worship without form.

I have chosen this hour to visit that por- tion of the quay which is appropriated to foreign and coastwise shipping, because it is at this hour that the wharf \>Avi\c\\\y chan- ges its character, and assumes the appear- ance oizprado. The dull, dusty, dirty rou- tine of business is the same throughout its whole extent. The interminable chant of the negro, with its full, sonorous chorus, is here supplied by the hearty " Heav-yeo- up !" of the sailor ; 'and the cotton-bale, to- bacco-hogshead, and whiskey-barrel yield to bales of foreign and domestic manufac- tures, pipes of wine, and crates of ware.

The shipping stretches away from the point at which I stand as far as the eye

28

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

can reach, two miles in extent, three tiers deep, with their heads to the current, curv- ing with the river — a beautiful crescent. The bosom of an American heaves with honest pride as he looks upon the city, and this, its chiefest ornament — the work of only thirty years ! The last of sunlight has disappeared ; the merchant, weary with the day's activity, thoughtful, stoop- ing, his eyes bent upon the ground, hur- ries homeward, calculating his profits ; " Y-augh ! y-augh ! y-augh !" a gang of negroes, ever merry — there is not a surer test of happiness than uniform hilarity. Next come some half dozen sailors, in tarred hats, clean check shirts, white trou- sers, and slippers. They have just arrived, have just received the little of money due them, and are just starting into the city, with a sober gait, and an honest, open face, to see life, and get rid of their sea-legs.

" Do you see something skulking, like a whipped hound, along the dark side of yon- der building V

" A thief!" said my companion.

" No ; it is a land-shark, or sailors' land- lord ; the pimp and pander to all his vices. He i-s watching for, and will soon pounce upon his prey. Poor Jack goes into the city sober, honest, clean : how different will be his return ! Is there no remedy for so great an evilT'

My companion shook his head. " I have been for ten years striving to dispel the moral darkness which obscures the minds of my fellow-men," said he, "and — have lost my own soul!"

I turned with surprise. My companion covered his face with his handkerchief.

There is no twilight at the 30th degree north latitude. That sweetest of the sis- ter-hours— that hovering between light and darkness, in summer so mild, in win- ter so brilliant, ai all seasons of the year so tranquillizing to those whose feelings have been set on edge by the past day's home- ly labours, is here unknown ; and already the stars begin to twinkle forth, one by one, bright, and unobscured by vapour. New Orleans, though lapped in swamp, possesses a pure atmosphere. The stars come twinkling forth one by one ; but there are those which shine in pairs, and of them, two are now beaming upon me with all the power of youth and beauty. The lady is a Creole, a native of the stale, and is the- first harbinger of the change now going on — of the metamorphosis of the quay into the prado. The gentleman upon whose arm she rests is a descendant of Old Spain ; his ancestors came over with O'Reilly ; and he has been taught, from his youth, to speak of the days of the Bar- on Caroudelet as the golden age of Lou-

isiana. He walks with a measured step,, erect, proud, bewhiskered, and mustached ; let him pass. It is, indeed, to be lament- ed that the weaknesses of men prove he- reditary, while their virtues die with the possessors. There never existed a people more heroic in action than were the peo- ple of Old Spain ; and there never existed a people more degraded in condition than are at this time their descendants. The enumeration of what has been but exposes the nakedness of what is.

The greatness of Spain has left its im- press upon the institutions of Louisiana. Its laws, than which none are more simple in structure, more equitable in spirit, or better adapted to attain the end proposed, pervade and colour all her legislation. They compose the corner-stone whereon Livingston and his coadjutors raised their superstructure of codification ; and they are the only valuable part of the whole building.* The Spanish colonists introdu- ced the laws of Spain into Louisiana ; and they made the colony what it was at the time of its sale to the United States. f The Spanish colonists were men of action ; but their descendants, numbering about eight thousand, are fast decreasing, and are only not less than the Italians in the city's mot- ley population.

But the lady — La Hermosa— God bless us, how they swarm upon one ! The whole scene has changed while I have stood idly talking. La Hermosa passed by some tea minutes since ; I can just see her mantil- la floating in the distance. The sweet brunette ! But others, equally pretty, are moving towards me with an even, sailing motion — illae vel intactas segetis per sum- mas volarent arenulas — and I may pencil at leisure.

I stand, with my note-book in my hand, reclining against one of the piles which, driven deep into the earth, are fixed at short intervals throughout the whole length of the quay ; my eye bent upon the passing- crowd, endeavouring to catch the traits of La Hermosa. The moon, now mounting its eastern steep, pours its soft and silvery light full upon the open page. Have you ever seen a cloud of paroquets upon the

* There is a strange misapprehension existing- abroad of the late Edward Livingston'sc labours ia codification. His great and original work on Crim- inal Jurisprudence, containing " a Code of Crimes and Punishments," "a Code of Proceeding," "a Code of Evidence," and " a Code of Reform and Prison Discipline," never has been, and probably never will be, adopted by Louisiana. The " Civil Code" and " Code of Practice" of Louisiana are mere compilations — an attempt to amalgamate Ro- man, Spanish, French, and English legislation and customs, and the opinions of legal writers — hastily got up, crude, undigested, full of redundancies, and marred with omissions and glaring inconsistencies.

+ Although the French were its first and last possessors, I believe history will sustain the text. France was never very successful in coionization.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

29

^ing, glittering and shining with all the colours of the rainbow in a noonday sun 1 And could Doughty select a bird from the flock, and picture its plumage upon can- vass 1 All shades, from deepest black to purest white, are here so mixed and jum- bled together, and pass in such close and rapid succession, as to produce upon one's vision an impression similar to that caused by a revolving cylinder with the seven

Trimitive colours spread upon its surface.* cannot, then, do better than to draw from tlie pages of a popular writer, whose pen is as true as it is graphic. f That sex, whose chief and more esteemed qualities are physical, never degenerates ; and La Hermosa in New Orleans differs but little from La Hermosa in Madrid.

" She is rather under than above the middle size, with a faultless shape, which is seen to tenfold advantage through the elastic folds of her basquena. Though her complexion be pale, it is never defiled by rouge. Her teeth are pearly, lips red, eyes full, black, and glowing. Such is La Her- mosa at rest ; when she advances, each

* Domestic slavery is a great leveller. Through- out the South there are but two classes, the white and the black. Even here, upon the quay, moon- jight, 8 P.M., the observation is most strikingly il- lustrated. When I passed through Tennessee, I trav- elled in company with a proprietor of the mail-coach in which 1 w?.s riding. At Nashville one of his agents compleiined most bitterly to the great man, because "mine host of the Nashville Inn" would not suffer " coachee" to dine at the same table with his " bag- gage." " My drivers are gentlemen," replied the pro- prietor ; " and if Mr. does not treat them as such,

I shall move the ' line' to another house !" " Slavery is a conservative of liberty," said Duff Green. If equality of intercourse is liberty, he might have gone farther, and made it creative. Yet there is much truth in the observation.

t North, in the"NoctesAmbrosianae," says, "The author of ' A Year in Spain' and Washington Irving are the only good writers which the American Re- public has produced." And if good writing consists in imparting enjoyment, without that irksomeness which IS attendant upon the laboured periods and measured rhythm of most of the line writing of the present day, Lieut. Mackenzie may well rank with the highest. Our modern traveller deals too much in generals ; he is altogether too philosophical ; and carries the admirable art of reasoning from particu- lars to generals into subjects where its chemistry cannot but be injurious. Endeavouring to impart much in a few words, he evaporates rather than con- solidates his knowledge. Instead of giving the reader facts, he presents him with bold inferences, as the square and compass wherewith to measure the height and depth of the moral and political state of a people. The author of " A Year in Spain" judged differently of the duties of a writer of travels. He knew that oiie can learn more of men and manners by half an hour's living intercourse than from all the books that ever were written ; and knowing this, he has given us a faithful picture of what he saw. With him all is life, action. His book is a continued drama throu sellout, and the interest is sustained as well by the freshness of the incidents, and the faithful de- hneation of character, as by the admirable ingenuity of the writer. We travel with him, enter into his perils, and rejoice in his escapes, and, at last, close the book almost persuaded that we ourselves have made the tour of Spain.

0^ c

4^ Wv>*!Ct.

^ J ■

motion becomes a study. Her step, though bold and quick, is yet harmonious, and the rapid action of her arms, as she adjusts her mantilla, is an index of the impatient order of her temperament. As she moves for- ward, she looks with an undisturbed, yet pensive, eye upon the men that surround her ; but, if you have the good fortune to be an acquaintance, her face kindles into smiles, she beams benignantly upon you, and returns your salute with the most in- viting grace. Then, if you have a soul, you lay it at once at her feet."

This is a faithful picture of La Hermosa in youth. What is she in age ] Perhaps, as a faithful chronicler, 1 should pencil her grandmother, who is now hobbling past, muttering maledictions upon the slowness of her foot, the hardness of the path, the gayety of others, and her own loneliness ; but it may be sufficient to remark that, if the Spanish senorita is the most beautiful of women, the spell, here at least, is broken with marriage. The fine-moulded limb loses its roundness, the lips grow thin, even its lustre passes from the eye, and the donna sinks into the duenna.

The fair northerner, with the glow of health upon her cheek, regular features, and an eye which has more of intellect than of passion, asks no description ; and La Belle Franqaise will adorn another page. But there walks one, the representative of a class whose look and every movement, whose whole existence is love. Related by blood to two of the races into which the human family is divided, she is excluded from each, and stands alone. Her station in society is here by no means questiona- ble. Her figure is perfect, and her face — sensuality moulded into beauty. She has known from childhood her true position, and might teach the Roman poet his own art. She is above the ordinary height, and moves with a free, unrestrained air, distin- guished for grace and dignity. There is nothing of maiden coyness about her, while she looks upon the passer by with an eye which invites curiosity. She is a-rjaole, and, perhaps I need not add, aquarteronne. Her caste is numerous in the city, and is now referred to, because it, at this hour, forms the chief attraction of the quay ; its origin and manner of living will be consid- ered in a future chapter.

Jews and Gentiles, the Frenchman, Ital- K ian, Spaniard,- German, and American, of all conditions and occupations, with their wives, or daughters, or mistresses, are moving to and fro, turning to the right and left, winding their way through labyrinths of merchandise, unmindful of dust and dirt, and chatting of all that occupies us mortals here below. What a hubbub ! what an as- semblage of strange faces, of the repre- sentatives of distinct people ! What a con- tact of beauty and deformity, of vulgarity

C-ti

30

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

and good-breeding! What a collection of costumes, from the habit of the German boor, just imported, to the toilet of the petit maitre, a la Paris ! And here we are at the market, surrounded with fruiterers, the venders of oranges, pineapples, cocoa, monkeys, parrots, and ladies' lap-dogs. The open square opposite is the Place cfArmes, once the centre ornament* and boast of the city, now the field wherein " The Legion " delights to amuse itself with military evolutions. It is now occu- pied by a few persons, who are sitting upon the green-sward near the jet-d''eau, seemingly enchanted with the sounds of a guitar which rise soft upon the ear. My companion, the ministerial gentleman, who had been hitherto taciturn, gloomy, and dis- tracted, appeared enlivened by the music, and proposed that we should enter within the paling of the square.

The group is composed of Spanish sail- ors, in the every-day dress of the ship- board, arranged in a circle about one of the company, who is both playing and accom- panying his instrument with his voice. The listeners keep time with their hands, and join in the burden, which returns at the close of each strophe of four lines. The words are a lively, but rude romance, in redondillas metre, made up of the usual quantity of love, jealousy, and revenge.

" A pretty story, very prettily told," said I, addressing the musician in Spanish, as his last strain died upon the ear.

" I am glad you like it," replied the sailor.

" And who is the writer of the romance V

The hardy tar hung his head in all the modesty of authorship.

" It is one of Jack's own," said a brother of the forecastle.

"Indeed! is Jack a poetl"

"A bit of an improvisatore," replied Tar. " A small gift from the Virgin, which enables him and his friends to while away an idle hour."

" I am but a p^or rhymer," said Jack, " and hold but lightly a quality which is not rare among my countrymen."

" Yet you are the first of your caste I ever met with."

Jack shrugged his shoulders. " But if your honour is truly not in jest, where can your honour have passed all- the days of your life ^ certainly not on the broad plains of Castile, or among the green vines of Italy !"

I assured Jack I had never seen the sun rise on the other side of the water.

" Then you must listen to little Giovan- na, the Italian improvisatrice ; she was lapped in song, and pours forth verse as a

* " The old city, properly so called" — now inclu- ded in the first municipality—'" is built in the form of a parallelogram, of which ihe longer sides are 1320 yards, and the shorter, or the depth of the city to- wards the swamp, 700 yards." — Encyc. Amer

boatswain pours out grog — all the freer for gold."

" She does not prostitute her inspiration, Jack?"

" She's no prostitute, your honour, but turns an honest real by her gift."

" And I know no reason why she, more than the nobler bard, should be debarred from bartering rhyme for food. So play the pilot, Jack, and I will settle the bill of our night's entertainment."

The man of the guitar rose, and led the way; his companions followed, while the ministerial-looking gentleman and myself brought up the rear of the procession, lis- tening with much pleasure to a light im- promptu, which the gifted sailor poured forth in praise of the little Giovanna — start- ing the stillness of the night, and often bringing us in near approximation to the watch-house.

CHAPTER IX.

THE IMPROVISATRICE.

" And as the new abashed nightingale,

That stinteth first whan she beginneth sing. Whan that she heareth any heerdes tale,

Or in the hedges any wight stearing, And after siker doeth her voice out ring."

Chaucer. ARGUMENT. Locality. — The Bargain. — Little Giovanna. — The Improvisation.

We halted before one of those hovels, to be found in every city, which often lead one to ask why it is that men are to be found who prefer poverty in a crowded town, with all its attendant evils, want of every kind, impurity, disease, to the noble independence of the wild woods, where there is room without rent, and food, to be purchased at a less expense of labour than the hard-earned pittance which half sup- plies the diurnal cravings of appetite ! The whole structure of society is built upon the shoulders of the poor : take away poverty, and wealth grovels in the dust. It is a long time since a wise and a holy man asked, " Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour ■?"' but who among the proud has learned hurnility of this question !

Jack threw open the door, and showed us in, as if it had been his own house. And well he might, for we were warmly welcomed by a dozen human voices, with- out enumerating the more questionable sa- lute of dogs, monkeys, and parrots, a beastly collection, which is invariably to be met with in the dwellings of the lower French, Spaniards, and Italians. Twelve in a room of twenty feet by twenty-four, with all the means and appurtenances of living — chairs, tables, beds, and cooking

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

SI

utensils, with sundry heaps of West India fruit, our Italian's staple in trade. After a hasty introduction, we seated ourselves as we best might, while Jack, in his own dip- lomatic way, entered upon the object of our visit. The terms were mutually agreed upon, and the contract closed. The father measured his daughter's inspiration by time, and trafficked in it at so much the " quarter of an hour." I bargained for the duration of a story, a sort of wholesale pur- chase, in which I might be gainer or loser, according to the violence of the afflatus.

" Giovanna," cried the father, in Italian, " here are two gentlemen who wish a touch of your quality. They pay well ; sing sweetly, and you shall have an hour of hol- yday in the morning."

My eyes had twice circled the room in search of the sibyl, but had fallen upon no face which bore traces of the poetic fire, always excepting my cicerone, whose fea- tures, though ridged with many a tempest, and blackened by a thousand tropical suns, exhibited, as some one has said of Dampier, that delicacy of contour which is always the accompaniment of genius.

A girl of some fourteen years, who sat in one corner of the apartment almost bu- ried amid a heap of oranges, the rinds of which she was most industriously en- gaged in polishing, rose and presented herself in answer to the call. She was poorly, very poorly clad ; her feet uncov- ered ; her hair dishevelled, torn, entangled ; and her whole person exhibiting palpable evidence of an utter ignorance of water. It was the little Giovanna ! Her form was good ; her face possessed of the fulness of youth; her forehead oval, and projecting; her eyes — but I could not see them, for they were bent upon the floor. The father spoke some words of encouragement, kiss- ed her forehead, and placed her in the cen- tre of the room.

" Will the gentlemen give me an argu- ment ?" asked the little Giovanna, and, as she spoke, she raised her eyes and look- ed upon us. They were like the vault of heaven, when clear, without a cloud ; it justifies all our young hopes, and is the home of all we love.

I hesitated.

" It is a better test of my child's power," said the father ; " select yourself the sub- ject of the story you wish woven into verse, and you will be sure she does not draw upon memory."

" David in the cave of AduUam," said my ministerial-looking companion.

" That will never do," said I. " Italia's poesy is so redolent with Holy Writ that the young sibyl will find her path a travelled one. Let us seek in our own wilds a theme new to her genius."

But the breath of inspiration was strong

upon her, and the little Giovanna waited not for our seeking. Her eyes glanced rapidly from us to those of her friends who surrounded her, and it soon became appa- rent that she was strongly affected by the contrast which our outward appearances exhibited. Her form dilated ; her face be- came flushed, and the veins of her neck were filled near to bursting ; then, closing her eyes, as if in sleep, she poured into- our ears a song of verse so sweetly modu- lated, yet in a voice so low that it seemed like soft music heard at a distance — al- most inaudible. It spoke of charity for the poor; their wants, their sufferings, and' their crimes, more than half excused by their temptations. It drew a picture which,, like all the pictures touched by genius, is daily to be seen among men, a picture of utter deprivation ; but the good Samaritan stood not by, for she had met with none.

My ministerial-looking companion cov- ered his face with his hands ; and I saw a tear trickle down from between his fingers.

" It is too true," said he, mournfully.

" True !" The sibyl caught at the word ; it turned the current of her thoughts ; it planted passion where before was resigna- tion, and excited anger and the hope of re- venge, where before seemed only depreca- tion and desire of pity. "True!" and throwing her arms into the air, and un- closing her eyes, which glared as if start- ing from their sockets, she burst forth into a flood of invective clothed in verse of the wildest and most varied measure. We started with astonishment ; it was passing from the lute to the trumpet; it was hear- ing words of defiance when most we look- ed for peace ! The miser would have trem- bled. How hardly shall a rich man entei into the kingdom of Heaven ! " And in hell, he lifted up his eyes, being in tor- ments, and seelh Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom." We were hurried irresistibly along with the torrent; our feel- ings caught the contagion, and the excite- ment of attention, expectation, and won- der had become painful, when the sibyl's- own powers of endurance appeared ex- hausted, and, descending gradually from the height she had attained, she sang of Ruth gleaning in the fields of Boaz till she sank calm and helpless into her father's arnis^ with words of universal love dying upon her lips.

We turned from the house as we had approached it, with honest Jack leading the ■ way, and singing aloud to the praise of the little Giovanna. while the remainder of the company joined ever and anon in a chorus wishing long life and a happy one to her who had sung so divinely. We parted at the square"; but not before the hearty tars and the landsmen had poured a libation together.

32

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

CHAPTER X.

• This examp/e was shewed to teache vs howe the teachers of God's Worde should not grutche to de- scend from their highnes or perfection, and abase thernselues euen to the lowlines of the weake, there- by to Wynne very many to theyr Lorde." — Udall.

ARGUMENT.

Anna's DweUing. — Anna. — The good Samaritan. — Anna's Story. — Anna's Apostrophe-, — The good Samaritan's holy Exercise. — Anna's Burial.

" It is, indeed, horrible," remarked my ministerial-looking companion, as we pass- ed up street, on our return from the

•visit to little Giovanna, " it is, indeed, hor- rible to find society so constituted that no- thing can be obtained without money."

" Yet the evening's amusement was not dearly purchased," said I, supposing my companion alluded to the improvisation we had just witnessed.

" It is not of the Italian girl that I am thinking," replied my companion. " The observation was suggested by the present condition of one to whom I am about to in- troduce you. Yes, this is the place ; she lives, or, rather, is dying here," he contin- ued, halting before one of those small, low, French-built houses of one story, which,

in street, are usually habited by a

class of females more sinned against than sinning. " Yes, this is the place ;" and he grasped my arm as if fearful I should leave him. " Now you will feel the force of my observation. It is, indeed, horrible to find society so constituted that nothing can be obtained without money ! Virtue may starve in the midst of a populous city ; want subdues honesty, and chastity immolates itself to supply the cravings of hunger! Come, come in ; you shall not hear, but see jny story. It is good to humble one's self before men."

I followed my companion.

A single candle burned upon the hearth, •throwing a dim ?-nd flickering light about a room which had been once, in the palmy days of its inmates — if any of the days of wretchedness may be said to be palmy — richly furnished. But sickness came, as it always will come ; disease in its most ioathsome form ; and the forced laugh, the •wild cry of riot, the seeming of hilarity were gone. How soon do even our co- •workers in iniquity discover the footsteps of misfortune ! No suiters came ; the week- ly bills of rent, for food, for the very wa- ter which cooled a feverish tongue, brook- ed no delay ; and tables, sofa, chairs, otto- mans, carpets, curtains, mirrors, pictures, •were sold, one after the other, until the room's emptiness looked chilling. The bloated bed of better days had not been spared, and upon a miserable pallet now lay the wreck of what had been the habita- tion of beauty, of refinement, of purity, and

all maidenly virtue. How rapid is the race of vice ! How wonderful its alchemy !

" It is Anna," said my companion, in a low whisper, and pointing to the pallet.

Upon a crazy trunk — Anna's initials were upon it ; it had known her in her childhood, had held her first wardrobe, ac- companied her in all her wanderings, and might have told many a tale of pride, of vanity, and of sorrow — sat a good Samari- tan, who daily called and endeavoured to smooth the poor girl's passage to the grave. In learning to cure the body, he had not forgotten the soul, and could pour words of hope into the ears of one who seemed flut- tering just above despair.

My ministerial-looking companion ap- proached the pallet, dropped upon his knees, and sobbed aloud. It was the first intimation Anna had of our presence.

" Ha ! are you there, devil !" she ex- claimed, in a shrill, yet hollow tone ; there was death in it. " Get up, get up, and look upon the work of two short years !"

My ministerial-looking companion rose, and bending over the sick girl's pillow, muttered something which was to me in- audible. He faltered in his speech, his knees shook, his whole frame was violently agitated ; large, heavy drops rolled down his face : he was in prayer. " Father, forgive — "

" Forgive ! never !" exclaimed Anna, in a quick, hurried cry, as if fearful lest the request might be granted before she could interpose an objection. " Forgive ! and shall you rise while I sink ! you, the sedu- cer! No, no, no ; no, no, no."

My companion again sank upon the floor, and covered his face with his hands.

*******

" Did you ever hear a woman curse 1 it is fiendish."

" Forgive !" continued Anna ; " I cannot ask forgiveness ; yet I was innocent till you came. Ah, how sweet do the scenes of childhood rise up before me ! My old pa- rents ; poor, honourable : the neat farm- house ; the country church, with its hoary pastor : then I felt strong in virtue : O God, is it possible ! The aged saint was remo- ved from among us, and you took upon yourself his holy ofldce. ' Beware of wolves in sheep's clothing !' I should have pon- dered upon that text. You took upon yourself his holy office, and a look, a whis- per, and I fell. Yet you might have saved me, but would not. I was nothing ; you, all in all. And have I not concealed your guilt, traitor — traitor to Christ — as none but woman could have concealed it 1 When my time came, your name was never upon my lips. When my friends looked cold upon me, I did not murmur. When my aged father drove me as a contamination from his threshold, and my mother, who had borne for me the pains I was about to bear, turned from me as from a stranger.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

33

I did not seek your roof, but wandered, without food, without shelter, day and night, through the open fields. Without money, without friends, the world would not pity my wants — go starve, strumpet! What could 1 do but what I have done 1 O, curse, curse, curse upon the serpent that beguiled me."*

My companion cast himself along the floor. He moaned aloud, " Guilty ! guilty ! before God and men."'

The good Samaritan took a small vol- ume from his pocket, and ran his eye va- cantly over its spread page. Anna was silent from exhaustion ; the moan of my companion alone filled the room.

" It is not for us to measure the wisdom or justice of the Creator ; neither shall our soft affections judge the stern decrees of Heaven," commenced the good Samaritan, " but Christ—"

" Christ!" exclaimed Anna.

The good Samaritan gave way to the interruption, and turned over the leaves of his book as if in search of a passage not readily to be found.

" Christ ! purest of created beings ; with- out sin ; Son of God ! How mild in tem- per ! how meek in deportment ! how sub- lime in morals ! He taught without os- tentation ; he rebuked without severity ; h« cheered the penitent, he confirmed the good, and wept over the iniquity of those Avho hearkened not unto his doctrines. He did not anathematize the guilty, but with ■words of love strove to win the sinner from his ways, and to save a soul of more value than the temporal wealth, the earth- ly pleasures it sought, and in seeking lost : lost wealth, lost pleasure, lost itself! The bruised reed he did not break, the smoking flax ho. did not quench, and the poor he had with him always. He loved the poor, and he loved the rich also ; he loved the just and the unjust, for all were his broth- ers, and he would have saved all. Did he sit among the wicked! it was to purge them from their wickedness. Did the weeping penitent of pleasure bathe his feet with her tears ? she went her way reform- ed, blessed with the forgiveness of her sins. How I love thee, briglit visitant of this be- nighted world ! Thou shalt be to me a fa- ther and a mother, a sister and a brother.

* The lover of German literature will be remind- ed of one of its most truly natural and pathetic pages.

"Wil. — Jenes Dorf, dessen Kirchthurmspitze Du hier von feine sichst, ist mein Getjurtsart. In jener Kirche ward ich getauft, in jener Kirche empfing ich die ersten Lehren unsers Glaubens. Meine Aeltern waren froname gute Bauersleule, arm und ehrlich," \i. s. V. — Das Kind der Liche : von August vou Kotzebue. — Erster Akte, Achle Scene.

E

At all hours I will think of thee : at the opening morn, at high noon, and at closing eve. 1 will contemplate thy character, I will love, I will adore. Thou shalt be my support in adversity, and should prosperity come — which may never come — thy calm influence shall temper the extravagance of success."

Anna was silent. W^ho could have list- ened to the poor girl's words unmoved T The good Samaritan renewed his exami- nation of the small volume, which he had involuntarily closed, and held with his fore- finger gently inserted between its pages ; and observing that Anna, the ministerial- looking gentleman, and myself were mute with sorrow, he first attracted our atten- tion to the exercise he was about to per- form, and then read, with a voice sweetly modulated to the tone of deep depression mingled with high hope, the following ap- peal to the Lord of Hosts :

" O most mighty God, and merciful Fa- ther, who hast compassion upon all men, and hatest nothing that thou hast made ; who wouldst not the death of a sinner, but that he should rather turn from his sin and be saved ; mercifully forgive us our trespasses ; receive and comfort us, who are grieved and wearied with the burden of our sins. Thy property is always to have mercy ; to thee only it appertaineth to forgive sins. Spare us, therefore, good Lord ; spare thy people • whom thou hast redeemed. Enter not into judgment with thy servants, who are vile earth and mis- erable sinners ; but so turn thine anger from us, who meekly acknowledge our vileness, and truly repent us of our faults, and so make haste to help us in this world, that we may ever live with thee in the world to come ; through Jesus Christ our

Lord. Amen."

**#*♦♦

On the second day subsequent to the events just related, the ministerial-looking gentleman, the good Samaritan, and my- self followed Anna to the grave. The good Samaritan performed the usual rites ; the ministerial-looking gentleman, clothed in habits of mourning, kneeled by the bier in silence. He had selected one of the many tenements for the dead of which the wall which surrounds the Protestant bury- ing-ground is composed, and Anna was lifted softly into that home which, to her, was indeed a home of rest. The good Sa- maritan is willing to go about doing good unknown. I left the ministerial-looking gentleman still kneeling by Anna's tomb, while the mason was busily at work clo- sing up its mouth.

3i

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

DAY THE SECOND.

" And every person of judgnnent, who loves a sincere relation of things, would be glad, if it were possible,, to have the writer of them abstracted from all kind of connexion with persons or things that are the subject matter ; to be of no country, no party ; clear of all passions ; independent in every light ; entirely uncon- cerned who is pleased or displeased with what he writes ; the servant only of reason and truth." — William Smith, D.D.

CHAPTER XI.

THE SABBATH.

" Those Sabbath bells I love to hear, Ringing merrily, loud and clear." " Aha ! are you there, you old Puritanical ! — 'Ringing merrily,' eh? Why not ringing merrily and dancing merrily ? Is it not strange that there should be found, among the followers of every reli- gion, those who would draw the thick cloud of their own dark bigotry over the bright sun which God has placed in the heavens to enliven and fertilize the earth ?" — The Cavaliers.

ARGUMENT. Sabbath Morning.— The Cathedral.— The good Sa- maritan's Discourse upon Religion. — La Belle Creole.— The Militia.— Pietro.— The Levee.— The Battle. — Little Giovanna. — The Young Huckster.

It is the Sabbath ! A Sabbath in New Orleans ! here the noisiest day of the week — so full of strange contrasts, of lights and shadows, crossing and recrossing each other: of the grave and gay, saints and sinners, each engaged in his vocation — that he may well tremble for his art who attempts to fix it, living, upon canvass. It is not the Sabbath of New England — there all are church-going from habit. Neither is it the Sabbath of Italy — there, too, cus- tom has moulded the manners of the peo- ple, and mirth and laughter usher in and close the jubilee of the poor. But here there are no manners, no customs, no fix- ed habits ; all is unsettled, chaotic ; the el- ements of society, as parti-coloured as the rainbow, but waiting the passage of years to blend them into one harmonious whole.

I was dreaming of poor Anna, whose spectre haunted me as if I had myself been the ministerial-looking gentleman who had wronged her past, forgiveness, when the roar of cannon dispelled the vision, and re- minded me of an appointment I had made to meet the good Samaritan at matins. And yet he is not a Catholic ; why should he have selected the Cathedral in preference to the market-house, when both are equal- ly well attended, and the last the more in- teresting of the two; A drum and fife, which suddenly struck up the lively nation- al air of "Yankee Doodle" just under my window, turned the current of my reflec- tions, and, leaping out of bed, I thrust my head into the open air, in search of the cause of so unseasonable a mustering of armed men in my immediate vicinity. Two lusty blacks, in full regimentals, were playing a duet to a solo audience of their own colour, while a casual passer-by bttstowed upon the group a grin of appro- bation.

The gray streaks of morning were fast thickening in the east, when I sallied forth from my hotel, with a curiosity raised on tiptoe by so unusual a commencement of the first day of the week. The morning was delightful — the atmosphere clear and bracing ; yet, except a lady, whose hurried steps, followed hard by a female slave, be- spoke an amateur of mass or marketing, and a straggling citizen-soldier, whose martial propensities must have been rous- ed thus early into action by the same pleas- ing strains which had persuaded me from my couch, I met with no living soul during the whole of my walk from above Canal- street to the Cathedral. The Americans* sleep late, for they have a notion that the rising sun is the only sovereign protection against miasma,! and their morning slum- bers are not yet broken by the harsh cries of the venders of milk, fi;esh butter, and eggs, which scare the matin hours of a northern city.

The Cathedral. Let not the reader, who has been accustomed to associate the most gorgeous of all the religions with archi- tectural excellence in its most imposing forms, expect to find here the lofty spire and growing dome, the fretted portal and. painted ceiling, the "long-sounding aisles,"

" Where awful arches make a noonday night. And the dim windows shed a solemn light."

In this, the richest of all the Catholic dio- cesses in the United States, the church has no temple worthy of her ancient great- ness; and the Cathedral, the boast of the city's Creole population, is the poorest patch-work of bastard orders which brick and mortar were ever made to assume. Its utter insignificance as a work of art would deprive it of all claim to notice, were it not that in the earlier and best points of New Orleans it occupies a posi- tion so prominent as to induce one to sup- pose the Orleanois had put their best foot foremost, and were willing to make the most of a doubtful ornament. Time, too, hallows all things, and the touch of his hand is more potent to beautify than the painter's pencil : he mellows the colour-

* That portion of the population of New Orleans whose mother tongue is English, whether of native or foreign birth.

t There is not in the whole range of science a greater bug-bear than this same miasma — a word borrowed from the Greek, for the purpose of conceal- ing the ignorance of D\ilncss. As applied to ati un- known cause, it signifies nothiiifj, and gives birth to a multitude of errors, by presupposing that to be tan- gible which is not known certainly to e.xist.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

3&

ingf of Raphael, and sheds a grace over the monuments of Wren. The Cathedral's old age is honourable, and he who is curi- ous in such matters will be as well pleas- ed with the bare, dilapidated condition of its inner economy, as with its weather- beaten front, seamed with scars which mark the passage of years.

I arrived before the hour ; the bell had not yet tolled to matins. But, with the Catholics, the house of God, like the king- dom of heaven, is always open to the poor in spirit ; and I found a side portal, leading to the altar, inviting every passer-by to en- ter freely and commune with his Maker. A small marble vase, filled with holy water, stood upon the right, just within the por- tal ; and as I never enter a church with- out conforming to its customs, I immersed the tips of my fingers in the fluid and made the sign of the cross. If there is any virtue in such things, I would wish to re- ceive the benefit of it ; if there is none, a little salt and water cannot be otherwise than harmless. The good Samaritan stood •beside a lady, who knelt in prayer, as if weighed down with sorrow ; he observed my devotion, and advanced to meet me.

'"Chanty suffereth long and is kind,'" said he. "The great Church of Christ is divided into many families ; and it becomes a true disciple to conform to the honest prejudices of all his brethren. I worship as often before this altar as within the more Protestant walls raised by that sect in the reformed religion to which I belong : they are holy places, all. Yet I have re- quested you to meet me here, not for the purpose of compelling you to join in the ceremonies of a ritual which may be a stumbling-block to your faith, but that, as a stranger to our city, you might see it on every side — the darkest as the brightest. The house of mourning is more instructive than the house of joy ; but we should be- come familiar with both if we would learn truly to appreciate life. I have resided many years in this city, and have long since accumulated a large estate ; yet it is but a short time since I learned how to en- joy it, or discovered that the luxury of ameliorating the sufferings of the unfortu- nate was superior to the luxuries of the table and the wine-cup. I am, perhaps, too well known to justify feelings of false dehcacy on my part ; yet the lady whose side I have just left, and who still kneels, absorbed in prayer, is too young and too beautiful for me to follow where she will lead the way, unattended by a friend of ei- ther of the parties."

The good Samaritan bowed respectfully as the officiating priest of morning passed us on his way to the altar, and, bending his knee before an image of the Virgin, he resumed his former position beside the fair woman, whose half-stifled sobs gave utter-

ance to a grief which had other origin than her own venial sins. The matin bells now rung out the accustomed peal, and, roused from a short revery into which the good Samaritan's last words had thrown me, I found the Cathedral fast filling with sweet faces, subdued by the occasion and the place to the Madonna style of beauty. Fashion pervades everything in this artifi- cial world of ours ; and the fair descend- ants of the French colonists choose to attend mass before sunrise, and then, like the first Christians, return to their usual avocations. And when is woman more lovely than at this early hour, with all her native charms fresh from the couch — like Venus from the wave — and just enough of sleep hanging upon her eyelids to dull the brilliancy of the orbs which roll beneath into just harmony with the mellow light of opening day ! La Belle Frangaise ! How perfect her figure ; and then her walk ; grace and love combined in motion ! With what taste she wears her dress. Mind presides over the arrangement of every fold — the poetry of the toilet ! She makes use of no illegitimate means to captivate ' the heart. Her features are classic evew unto sameness, with, perhaps, a little more of embonpoint than would be found in a statue of Praxiteles. The general expres- sion of her face is rest. Her large black eyes are soft as the gazelle's ; neither pos- sessing the fire of the Spanish senorita, nor rolling like those of the mixed race I have already described, liquid with love. The dark tresses of her hair are carefully ar- ranged, and motionless as chiselled mar- ble. Of quiet manners, she neither seeks nor rejects attention ; wins without effort,, and wears without arrogance ; secure of a homage which is the more readily paid be- cause seemingly unsought. Her small hand and tapering fingers, her "little feet," which, in the exquisite verse of Suckling, " Beneath a petticoat,

bike mice, steal in and out,

As if they feared the light,"

and finely-turned ankle — if you catch a sight of it — complete the picture. She is irresistible, and even in church steals us from our devotions ; for while the good- Samaritan, and all about me, have been saying their prayers, I have stood, rapt in admiration, before La Belle Francaise^ and, instead of soberly repeating a "pater nosier," have unintentionally put to flight the object of my admiration by repeating- in an audible voice the following lines of the poor Elvira :

" I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee, Thy image steals between my God and me ; Thy voice 1 seem in every hymn to hear, With every bead I drop too soft a tear. When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll. And swelling organs lift the ri.sing soul, The thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight, Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight :

36

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

In seas of flame my plunging soul is drowned. While altars blaze and angels tremble round."

" That will do," whispered the good Sa- maritan, tapping me upon the shoulder, and meeting my stare with a smile ; " you appear absorbed iu thought ; let us walk awhile ; the lady, at whose command I am, desires an additional hour for the confes- sional."

The good Samaritan, like all those who to a native benevolence of character have added a thorough knowledge of the world, was of a liberal mind, and therefore not disposed to quarrel with the customs of the people about him.

" The Christian Sabbath," said he, as we passed down the aisle, " seems to have been instituted, in the early days of the Church, for the benefit of the working classes, whose limbs, wearied and cramped with six days of labour, need, not only rest, but the revivifying influence of out-door sports : they occupy a vacant mind, and fill the heart with laughter, the best physician for a sick body. We will visit the market ; it is best seen at this early hour ; and as we pass along the Levee, you will find it, if not as busy as upon tlie other days of the week, at least stirring with life in a more joyous form."

The deep-toned notes of the organ had not yet died upon the ear, when our atten- tion was attracted by a well-dressed com- pany of " Native American" militia, which, preceded, followed, and hemmed in on every side by a motley collection of all colours, sexes, and conditions, marched hurriedly along to the old familiar tune which had so unceremoniously serenaded my bedchamber. Drum and fife were now more fortunate in their audience, and con- sequently played with a corresponding ad- dition of spirit. Bond and free were equal- ly happy, and danced, sang, shouted, poked each other under the ribs, and played at shuttlecock with their neighbour's heads, in the true equaii;,y of the Roman saturna- lia. This is the Sabbath of the slave.

Though the " Place d' Amies" was as yet vacant, the venders of fruit were busy ar- ranging their wares in pyramidal forms along the iron railing which surrounds it. " That man's story is curious," said the good Samaritan, pointing to a greasy, over- grown merchant in the trade. " He has sold fruit, just where he now stands, for more than twenty years, and has grown both rich and learned, without desiring to change his condition iu life. His numer- ous customers of every clime induced him to masterall the languages of Europe ; and the character of the commodities in which he deals enticed him into botany. Once fairly in the world of knowledge, he found each path leading to another still more beautiful ; his love of travel grew with the space passed over, and he has gone on

until there is not a sunny spot in literature or science with which he has not made himself familiar. And then he bears his acquirements with such meekness ! those of his trade about him will never suspect that he is other than one of themselves. I never pass him without i-aising my hat in homage of his worth ; and sometimes while away a pleasant hour in his company, eating oranges, and discussing the merits of the different schools in therapeutics, or threading the intricacies of the rival sys- tems of Linnaeus and .lussieu. Buena Mat- tina ; you are early at work, Pietro," con- tinued the good Samaritan, as we approach- ed the vender of fruit. " This attention to business is praiseworthy ; but we should give the first hour of this day to our great Benefactor, in acknowledgment of the many favours received at His hands."

" I am within reach of the bells," replied Pietro, " and can send up a prayer here as well as elsewhere ; besides, the best prool of gratitude in the receiver is his enjoy- ment of the good things received ; so put two oranges in your pocket, one for your- self and another for your companion— they are best eaten with a rising sun — and come along with me. An enmity of some stand- ing has broken out afresh this morning, and bids fair to become epidemical among the ?narchands* who sell between the two mar- kets. I have, indeed, exerted my influence, without success, for the restoration of peace ; but the mad-caps will listen to your voice, for they know it was never heard except upon the right side. So, beg- ging your pardon, doctor, let us hurry on ; I woi'ild not that a portion of our popula- tion usually so peaceable, and among whom I count myself, should loose caste through the foolish differences of two hot-heads."

We crossed to the Levee. It was occu- pied by such Creoles of both sexes as love early walking, with now and then a quar- teroon sweeping majestically by. Little coteries of ,Tack Tars, in neat blue jackets and trousers, clothed its surface, taking observations of the rising sun, whose up- per limb was just clearing the horizon. All were alike indifferent to the hum of distant voices, which bespoke the usual "row upon the Levee." The market- house — which, as a public building, is un- worthy so large a city— was well stocked with all a gourmand delights to find in a second and third course ; and as we passed down its centre, many a bright eye flashed upon us, justifying the remark of one of my city friends, that the market of a morn- ing was not the last place to visit in search of beauty ; and proving that les belles Cre- oles are not unworthy of the reputation of

* Hucksters, pedlers of small wares, venders of tape, pins, ribands, and fruit. They are of both sexes and colours, bond and free, and are divided into two classes, the sedentary and the peripatetic.

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

37

their great-grandmothers for superior ex- cellence in all that relates au menage de la maison.

We now entered upon the scene of strife. What a hubbub ! Men, women, and chil- dren ; black, white, and mixed ; carts and go-carts, horses, mules, and asses — the last the more comprehensive genus — are jum- bled together in one glorious " hotchpotch," which word, my Lord Coke says, signifieth " a conimixion of divers things together." The greater number of the combatants ap- pear not to have a very distinct idea of the origin of the quarrel in which they are en- gaged ; and while with one hand they re- turn a blow received, they expose their wares with the other — following up each sacre with a complimentary observation upon the quality of the goods they wish to put off, clothed alternately in each of the five languages of the city.

" Take that, you old scoundrel," cried a fat dame of some sixty years, bestowing upon a youngster of fifteen a coup de pied par derniere, which quickened a sort of dog-trot into something more than a run. " Six bits, six escaliens ; only six bits ; tres fin, very good, bon ;" and she closed with thrusting into my face a pair of coarse AvooUen hose, which, as the weather is rather warm during the month of April in New Orleans, I declined purchasing.

" Der teufel !" exclaimed a German ; " wie up-down mein show-case, and alles meine beauties gespielt !" and, by way of making sure of the offender, he dealt out a couple of blows to an ill-starred wight who stood near him in the act of trying on a shirt, in order to convince a chafferer that the article was large enough for a man of his size. The first stroke threw the poor fellow off his perpendicular, but the second brought him up again, so that he could not well complain, and finally concluded to let the matter pass as a joke. " Vill he puy a razors sin paby fur die kleins kinder 1" continued the German ; " Ein thaler vun dollar sallein, huit arcalin, une piastre, pour les de — " a stray projectile meted out poeti- cal justice, and stretched the huckster senseless among his wares.

" Stop thief ! Arretez le voleur !• Sacre nom de Dieu ! le cochin !" cried a black wench, who sold potatoes, with sausages to match, served up warm ; while a sly rogue, who, in a moment of forgetfulness, had helped himself, made headway for the thii kest of tiie crowd. He was a disciple of Zimmerman, and loved solitude ; but the fates overtook him. The rogue, in his haste to put tlie spoils he had won extra postliminium, had not counted upon their artificial heat, and the consequence was no less injurious to himself than were his an- tics diverting to the sable dame, who saw her right thus summarily avenged.

" My eyes !"— " Foutre !"— " Who bids V

I " Schwanhund, trois scalins !" — " Give it to j him !"— " Schurke !"— " Only a dollar !"— " Good fit !"— " Salope !"— " Bloody old vil- lain !" — " Real habeneros, two for a pica- yune !" — " Whiz !" — and thus they have it, pellmell, the moving mass swayed to and fro, while Jack and his messmate, mount- ed upon the rigging of the neighbouring shipping, overlooked the field, and cheered on the combatants, well pleased to see their old friends, who had often squared their accounts with a night's lodging be- tween two gens-d''armes, fitting themselves for a similar enjoyment.

The good Samaritan stood calmly con- templating the scene before him, seemmgly waiting for one of those lulls which serve as resting-places to the tempest, and pre- pare it for new efl^"orts of violence. He soon caught the eye of one of the most sturdy and active among the combatants, and the lion cowered into the lamb.

" Make way ! make way for the govern- or ; God bless your soul, doctor, it does my eyes good to see you. The Tower of Babel has here a representative for ever}'' tongue ; and they are belabouring each other for want of an interpreter : and then it is all about a silly woman !"

The good Samaritan moved forward, and, uncovering his head, bowed alternate- ly from side to side as he passed through the crowd, which opened to admit him into its centre.

" Conspexere, silent, arrectisque ; auribus astant ; Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet."

His mild voice fell like oil upon the troubled waves, and of all the angry multi- tude which stood thick around him not one was found who did not acknowledge the good man's influence. Finding that the fruiterer had not over estimated the moral power of my companion, I ventured to force myself within the circle which had closed about him, for the purpose of learn- ing what could have excited to such a pitch the passions of a class of people who usually err on the side of blandness, and, from long practice in the art of putting off bad wares at high prices, exhibit more of the Jew than of the Irishman in their char- acter.

The Little Giovanna stood quietly in the midst, her eyes bent modestly upon the ground, and, judging from the roseate hue which mounted even to her temples, rather ill at ease as the cynosure of so numerous a company. Like Helen, she had waked a storm which no spell of hers could quell. Near her stood one of those awkward, ill- shapcn, antiquated market-carts used ex- clusively by the Islenos — a portion of hu- manity with whom the reader will be pleased to be made acquainted hereafter. Attached to the vehicle were a yoke of bony oxen, ruminating upon past events,

38

NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

and exhibiting all that soberness of char- acter so typical of the Evangelist.

The Little Giovanna, now tricked out in far different habiliments than when I first saw her upon a former occasion, had been accustomed to visit the populous area be- tween the two markets at an early hour on the morning of the first day of the week, for the purpose of exposing to envious eyes the finery with which the exercise of her gift enabled her to deck her person. On this occasion an admirer, distinguished among the Islenos for his wealth, with great gallantry requested the fair impro- visatrice to mount his cart, and, after the manner of the earlier Thespians, favour his wondering countrymen with a speci- anen of her art. The little Giovanna un- fortunately yielded to the youth's soft per- suasions ; nothing loath to ensure a vic- tory which, with a woman's penetration, she perceived was already more than half ■won.

And there she stood ; her flowing tresses not now neglected, but nicely bound in parti-coloured ribands, and twisted into a 5cnot behind. Her dress was neat and be- coming, dashed with a little of coquetiy about the waist and neck. Her complex- ion, too, now discovered its tints unob- scured, clear and sunny as an Italian sky ; but her eyes, thank Heaven, were un- changed. The song commenced. The rich Islenos and his friends smiled, then shouted, then stood entranced ; while Giovanna, like her own native "Rusignuolo," poured forth music which thrilled the soul. As her Toice rose upon the morning air, then died away in all the ecstasy of the passion she ■described and felt, the trial was too much for one who had long hoped, but feared to tell his love.

A young vender of petty finery upon the Levee, who carried his little show-box strapped about his neck, with so unobtru- sive an air as to have gained many friends, even among those of his own craft, had, in an unlucky hour, listened to the fair Pytho- ness in one of her happiest modes of inspi- ration ; and what could he do but love ! Once the merriest of the marchands, he became moody, lost in thought, forgetful of the passers-by, and retired at eve with his case of wares unsold. The world went badly with him; his friends fell off; his small stock of wealth, unreplenished, wasted away. He became negligent, un- cleanly, even in his habits ; his neat jacket and trousers fell into rags, and those who had known him in better days said he was crazed. In return for all this loss, a rich return to him, he was accustomed to steal of a Sunday morning into some obscure stall near the market, and watch the little Giovanna as she fluttered by with mincing steps, conscious of her worth. That morn- ing he was observed gliding to his post but

a few moments before Giovanna made her appearance, seemingly labouring under some late cause of excitement. He ges- ticulated violently, and muttered to himself, while his eye wandered as if in search of some object on which to fasten its hate. A kind old lady, who sold essences and peppermint drops, interspersed with moral instructions in verse for the instruction of youth of both sexes, and to whom I am indebted for the whole story of the young man's love, suggested, with a sigh, the pos- sibility of his having summoned up suffi- cient courage that morning to waylay Gi- ovanna as she left her father's house, for the purpose of making an unrequited dec- laration of his love. Be that as it may, the young marchand was seen to tear his hair with rage when Giovanna, acceding to the Islenos' gallant proposal, leaped fawn-like from the ground, and stood erect in the centre of his queer vehicle, a vision just lighted from above. As the song progress- ed, and the afflatus grew stronger upon his heart's choice, the tortures of jealousy, be- came insupportable, and, rushing from his hiding-place, he fell, like the maniac of the tombs, upon all indiscriminately. The Islenos were men of metal, and resented so unlooked-for an intrusion upon their pleas- ures. The marchands were unwilling to stand by and see one of their own number drubbed, however deservedly, and thus the melee became general.

CHAPTER XII.

THE LADY IN TEARS.

" Oh, thou hast touch'd upon a dreadful ill, Forever open to the light of heav'n, Inexpiable, monstrous, from the mind Never to be effaced, our mournful lot."

Sophocles. " Her eies full swollen with flowing streams aflote, Were with her lookes throwne up full piteously, Here forcelesse handes together oft she smote, With doleful shrieks that echoed in the skye." Mirror for Magistrates.

ARGUMENT.

Grief. — The Brother's Story. — The Prison. — The

Interview.

The good Samaritan and myself return- ed to the Cathedral. The lady in tears had just left the confessional, and joined us at the portal.

" I am ready," said she, addressing the good Samaritan, " and may God support me in this hour of trial I" The good Sa- maritan would have said amen ; but, al- though his lips moved, he made no audible reply. The lady thanked me when the good Samaritan informed her that I was one of his friends, who would also accom- pany and sustain her in the difficult duty she was about to perform. Her large blue eyes were turned searchingly upon me, as if to inquire whether I was equal to the

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task, and then were again suffused in tears. ■"Does he know alll" she asked, sobbing aloud. " Oh, my brother ! and must he die 1 is there no escape? Good God, that I should have lived to see this day ! Oh, that I might lay down my life a ransom for his ; how sweet would be the refuge of the grave ! Peace, peace ; be still — I shall go mad !" and she wrung her hands in the extremity of grief. Her moans attracted the attention of the passers-by ; she saw it, and with an effort repressed the passion which seemed ready to deprive her of reason.

" Forgive this forgetfulness," said she ; " yes, I know you will forgive me, for you know the terrible affliction which has over- taken me. My brain is racked with doubt. I resolve, then waver in my resolutions. 1 know not whether it is a crime or a vir- tue ; yet, it was a virtue once — and has Christianity wrought a change in the char- acter of the act, or in the opinions of men ? ' This day shall thou be with me in Para- dise.' Christ said it to the thief upon the cross ; and will he not say it to one who i-s less a criminal, though a greater in crime!" Her voice became husky — her words choked in the utterance — she walk- ed forward, making a sign for us to follow ; but her steps were uncertain, and she "would have fallen, had not the good Sa- maritan hastened to her support. He drew her arm gently within his, and they walked on in silence together. It is good to be made acquainted with grief — it wins the soul from the grosser things of this world. But what are the ordinary ills of life, that "we should bewail them 1 How do they dwindle in comparison with the magnitude •of the evil which Heaven, in its providence, poured upon the head of one so young, so beautiful, so capable of the refined enjoy- ments of the domestic circle ! My heart sank within me as I contemplated the men- tal agony of the mourner, forced into harsh contrast with the piercing fife, and rattling drum, and wild laugh, and coarse jest, which now filled the air, as squad after squad of -citizen soldiers, on foot and on horse, pass- ed in front of the Cathedral, and filed off into the Place d'Armes upon our left — yes, the good Samaritan had told me all.

A young man, a resident of the country, liberally educated, of extensive connex- ions, and fair prospects in life, had visited New Orleans a few months previous for the purpose of passing a week with his city friends. At a dinner given by an ac- quaintance, the guests found each other's company too agreeable to separate at an early hour, and the wine-cup circulated too freely to suffer them to do so in a sober mood. Light with wine, merry, boister- ous, they sallied forth in quest of adven- tures ; and many a watchman sprang his rattle as the revellers swept, with shout

and song, through the most populous streets of the city. The night was well advanced, when, weary and fleeing before the guardians of the city, they entered a drinking-house, an evil which, in New Or- leans, is to be found at every corner. An affray was the consequence. The manner and cause of its commencement, by whom instigated, all were too inebriated to ex- plain. It closed with the death of one of the servants of the establishment, who was struck down by the young man from the country. The guilty youth was arrested, arraigned, tried, condemned, and adjudged to suffer the last penalty of the law. His widowed mother and a sister — she who leaned upon the good Samaritan's arm — hastened to the city when the story of the son's misfortune burst upon their ears, which listened only for his voice telling of a happy return. The mother came stupi- fied with grief; the evil was too great for her to bear. She would sit for hours ga- zing upon vacancy ; then wonder what could have brought one of her years to town, for her days of vanity had passed away ; and then, when memory returned, and the reality of the dreadful calamity forced itself upon her, she would burst forth into the wildest wo, calling upon death. And what had this poor old wom- an done, that she should be thus visited upon the very brink of the grave 1 Why should not the sun of her existence, just sinking beneath the horizon, be suffered to go down undimmed by a cloud! And is the policy of that people who visit the crimes of the child upon the head of the parent founded in the eternal principles of justice ? The ways of Providence are, in- deed, past finding out ! But the sister, she had youth, and youth is ever accompanied by Hope. Up to that day her courage never wavered. Though the body wasted away, became weak and sometimes failed, the soul within nerved itself against the assaults of fate, and grew stronger in the contest. Her voice was often heard in the still hours of night at her mother's bedside, in prayer, soothing her sorrows ; but never in empty lamentation. She ministered daily to her brother in prison — put to flight his fears — pictured safety in the future — sat at his side in the court-room — searched the countenances of the jury ; and as wit- ness came forward after witness, whose every word heaped proof upon proof which fastened the dead man's blood upon her brother, she probed the testimony, and searched for innocence where, alas! no- thing was to be found but guilt. The bat- tle was for life, and she was equal to it. The evidence closed — the argument of counsel was heard — the judge delivered his charge — the jury left the box, and retired ; as the last retreating form passed from the view, all eyes turned upon the prisoner —

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NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT.

npon the brother and the sister : there they sat, side and side. His countenance chan- ged— his head fell and rested upon his breast. How much