Class. Book. COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT NEW ORLEANS V jmm NEW ORLEANS THE PLACE AND THE PEOPLE ii^. C3,J BY • GRACE KING I'' author of jean bapt18te le moyne, sietr de bienville' "balcony stories," etc. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANCES E. JONES NOV i^'Str' \ i^ffo gork MACMILLAN AND CO. AND LONDON" 1895 All rights reserved i COPTEIGIIT, 1S95, Bt MACMILLAN and CO. Tfortoooti iprras J. S. CuBhing & Co. — Berwick & Smith. Norwood Mass. U.S.A. TO THE MEMORY OP Cfjarlcs (©ayarre Introduction PAGE XV CHAPTER I. History of Mississippi River. Crescent City. — Pineda. — De Soto. — De la Salle. — Pierre Lemoyne d' Iberville CHAPTER II. Colonization of Louisiana. Jean Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville. — Pennicaut. — Story of St. Denis 14 CHAPTER III. Founding of New Orleans. Law. — Duke of Oi'leans. — Mississippi scheme. — Specu- lation emigration . — Manon Lescaut. — New Orleans laid out. — Le Page du Pratz. — Immigration. — Dubois incident, 33 CHAPTER IV. The Ursuline Sisters. Shipments of girls. — Contract with Ursulines of Rouen. — Madeleine Hacliard. — Voyage across the ocean. — Arrival in New Orleans. — Installation in convent. — Our Lady of Prompt Succour. — New Ursuline Convent .... 51 CHAPTER V. Indian troubles. — Marquis de Vaudreuil. — Charity Hos- pital founded. — Louisiana's first drama. — Jeannot. — De Kerlerec. — Swiss mutiny. — Jumonville de Villiers. — Treaty of Paris. — Little Manchac. — Jesuits and Capuchins, Father G^novaux 75 vii viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. PAGE Cession to Spain. Louis XV. — Due de Choiseul. — Cession to Spain made known in New Orleans. — Action of citizens. — Lafr^ni^re. — Delegation in Paris. — Aubry. — UUoa. — Madame Pradel. — Expulsion of Ulloa .89 CHAPTEE VII. Spanish Domination. O'Reilly. — Arrest of patriots. — Death of Viller6. — Trial and execution of patriots. — Unzaga. — Father G^novaux and Father Dagobert. — Father Cirilo's report. — Galvez. — Julian Poydras ......... 107 CHAPTER VIII. Spanish AdiMinistration. Miro. — Conflagration. — Don Andres Almonaster. — Ba- ronne de Pontalba. — Padre Antonio de Sedella. — Western trade. — Visit of Chickasaw and Choctaw chiefs. — Caron- delet. — Revolutionary ideas. — New Orleans fortified. — Treaty of Madrid. — First bishop of Louisiana. — First news- paper. — First Free Mason's lodge. — First theatre. — Gayoso de Lemos. — Royal visitors. — Casa Calvo. — Treaty of St. Ildefonso ; France again possesses Louisiana. — Salcedo. — Free navigation of Mississippi demanded by Western people, 128 CHAPTER IX. American Domination. Jefferson's purchase of Louisiana. — Laussat. — Transfer of government from Spain to France. — Transfer from France to United States. — Governor Claiborne. — American recon- struction. — Robin's description of New Orleans. — Refugees from St. Domingo. — Pfere Antoine. — First Fourth of July celebration. — Law and practice. — College of Orleans. — Lakanal . 157 CHAPTER X. The Baratarians. The black flag in the Gulf of Mexico. — The Lafittes. — Barataria. — Efforts of state and national government against contraband trade. — Criminal prosecution of the CONTENTS. IX PAGE Lafittes. — English overtures to Jean Lafitte. — Lafitte's offer to Claiborne. — Lafitte episode. — Breaking up of pirate's retreat by United States authorities. — Baratarians at battle of New Orleans. — Lafitte at Galveston. — Dominique You . 189 CHAPTER XI. The Glorious Eighth of January. Downfall of Napoleon. — Fears of British invasion. — Prep- arations. — Arrival of Jackson in New Orleans. — British' fleet in Lake Bargue. — Engagement with United States boats. — British enter Bayou Bienvenu. — Viller^'s capture and escape. — Jackson musters his men. — British forces. — Fight of 23d December. — Jackson's position. — Pakenham. — British attack of 27th December. — Eighth of January . 213 CHAPTER XIL AXTE-BELLUM NeW OrLEANS. Celebration of the victory. — First steamboat. — Faubourg Ste. Marie. — De Bor^ plantation. — Mademoiselle de Ma- carty. — Summer life under the ancien regime. — Duke of Saxe- Weimar. — Lafayette. — American development, busi- ness, theatres, first Protestant church. — Buckingham's de- scription of New Orleans. — America Vespucci, Henry Clay, Lady Wortley . — Fredericka Bremer. — Epidemics. — Metairie race-track. — Under the Oaks — Duelling .... 254 CHAPTER XIIL War. Capture of city by Federals. — General Butler takes pos- session. — Hanging of Mumford. — Federal domination. — Military government. — Reconstruction. — Fourteenth of September 300 CHAPTER XIV. The Convent of the Hot,t Family. Death of Mother Juliette. — Gens de Couleur. — African slaves. — African Creole songs. — Zabet Philosophe. — Congo Square. — Voudou meetings. — Quadroons. — Founding of the convent. — Orleans ball-room. — Thorny Lafon . . 334 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XV. PAGE Conclusion. Fourteenth of July. — Moreau Gottschalk. — Paul Morphy. — John McDouogh. — Judah Touro. — Margaret. — Paul Tulane. — Tulane University of Louisiana. — H. Sophie Newcomb College. — Howard Memorial Library. — The Carnival. — All Saints. — Cemeteries. — Charles Gayarr^ . 35G llivstr^ti Swamp Scene ..... 5 Spanish Dagger 9 Palmetto Palm 13 On Rue Bienville 14 Lugger Landing at Old Basin li) Banana Tree 31 On Bayou St. .Tolin .... 33 Court House in which Jackson was tried 35 Villa on Bayou St. John 47 Indian Weapons 4!) Sun-dial at Ursuline Convent 51 Front View of Ursuline Convent . 53 Back of Old Ursuline Convent 58 Tiled- roof House on Chartres St. ()G Interior of Archbishop's Palace . 70 Knocker on Porter's Lodge . 73 Indian Baskets 75 Old Slave Quarters .... 78 Tignon Crt^ole • . , . . 84 Pomegranates . . „ . . 88 ILL USTRA TIONS. Spanish Houses on Rue du Maine Courtyard of the " Old Baths" In the French Quarter . Okl Plantation House . Old Spanish Iron Railing Old Gateway on Rue du Maine A Creole Darky . Old Spanish Courtyard Spanish Dagger in Bloom . Iron liailing on Pontalba Buildin^ The Cabildo Doorway of Old Arsenal Gateway at Spanish Fort Dago Boats at Old Basin French Opera House Transom in Pontalba Building Gateway in Cabildo Window and Balcony in Cabildo Residence of First Mayor of New Orleans Interior of Old Absinthe House " Mammy " . Cathedral Alley . French Market The City Seal The Jolly Rover . A Baratarian On the Levee Sword of Lafitte . Grave of Dominique You The Gulf of Mexico . Door of Villa on Bayou St. John . Near the Battle-Ground Lamp on French Opera House Jackson's Monument . First Four-story Building in New Orleans Exchange Alley . Parish Prison Lamp Post at Jackson Square In the St. Louis Cemetery . Mortuary Chapel . Study of "Ovens" in St. Louis Cemetery ILLUSTEATIONS. Xlll A Corner of the French Market . The Duelling Oaks Caf6 at City Park .... Fourteenth of September Monument Cross in St. Louis Coloured Cemetery Sister of the " Holy Family " " Une bonne Vieille Gardienne " . A Negro Type .... Stairway in Convent of Holy Family New Orleans from River Benjamin Franklin Tower and Portico, St. Paul's Church " Saint John's " Steeple Dome of Jesuit Church Cloister of Christ Church Cathedral Tulane University Corner of Howard Library . A Bit of Cornice .... Boeuf Gras Chapel of St. Roche . Tomb of the Ursuline Nuns, St. Roche Cemetery Rear View of City ...... rAGi. 289 293 295 320 334 336 338 345 351 356 359 367 371 375 378 385 890 391 396 397 399 404 YTTI']i personify cities by ascribing to them the femi- ' ^ nine gender, yet this is a poor rule for general use ; there are so many cities which we can call women only by a dislocation of the imagination. But there are also many women whom we call women only by grammatical courtesy. Indeed, it must be confessed that, as the world moves, })ersonitication, like many other amiable ancestral liberties of speech, is becom- ing more and more a mere conventionality, significant, only, according to a standard of the sexes no longer ours. New Orleans, — before attempting to describe it, one pauses again to reflect on the value of impressions. Which is the better guarantee of truth, the eye or the heart ? Perhaps, when one speaks of one's native place, neither is trustworthy. Is either ever trustworthy when directed by love ? Does not the birthplace, like the mother, or with the mother, implicate both eye and XVI INTRODUCTION. heart into partiality, even from birth ? And this in despite of intelligence, nay, of common sense itself ? May only those, therefore, who have no mother and no birthplace misapprehend the impressions of one fast in the thralls of the love of both. New Orleans is, among cities, the most feminine of women, always using the old standard of feminine distinction. Were she in reality the woman she is figuratively, should we not say that she is neither tall nor short, fair nor brown, neither grave nor gay ? But is she not in truth more gay than grave ? Has she not been called frivolous ? It is so easy nowadays to call a woman frivolous. In consequence, the wholesome gayety of the past seems almost in danger of being reproached out of sight, if not out of existence. It is true. New Orleans laughs a great deal. And although every household prefers at its head a woman who can laugh, every household, ruled by a woman who cannot laugh, asperses the laugh as frivolous. Cities and women are forgetting how to laugh. Laughter shows a mind in momentary return to para- disiacal carelessness : Avhat woman of the present is careless enough to laugh ? Unless she be an actress on the stage and well paid for it ! (One never supposes them to laugh off the stage and for nothing.) Women can smile, and they do smile much nowadays. When they are prosperous, the constant sight of a well-gilded home and a well-filled pocketbook produces a smile, which, in the United States, the land of gilded homes and well-filled pocketbooks has become stereotyped on their faces; and American babies may even be said to be born, at present, with that smile on their mouths. introduction: xvii But the laugh, tJiat "sudden gk)ry " wliich in a Hash eclipses in the heart sorrow, poverty, stress, even dis- grace, it has become obsolete among them. Smiling people can never become laughing people; their devel- opment forbids it. New Orleans is not a Puritan mother, nor a hardy Western pioneeress, if the term be permitted. She is, on the contrary, simply a Parisian, who came two cen- turies ago to the banks of the Mississippi, — partly out of curiosity for the New World, partly out of ennui for the Old — -.and who, " Ma foi! " as she would say Avith a shrug of her shoulders, has never cared to return to her mother country. She has had her detractors, indeed calumniators, with their whispers and sneers about houses of correction, — deportation, — but, it may be said, those who know her care too little for such gos- sip to resent it ; those who know her not, know as little of the class to wliich they attribute her origin. There is no subtler appreciator of emotions than the Parisian woman, — emotions they were in the colonial days, now they are sensations. And there are no amateurs of emotional novelty to compare to Parisian women. The France of Louis XIV. was domed over with a royalty as vast and limitless as the heaven of to- day. The court, Avith its sun-king and titled zodiac, was practically the upward limit of sight and hope for a whole people. In what a noonday glare from this artificial heaven, did Paris, so nigh to the empyrean, lie! Its tinsel s])lendours, even more generously than the veritable sunlight itself, fell upon the crowded streets and teeming lodgings. Nay, there was not a nook nor a crann}^ of poverty, crime, disease, suffering, vice, filth, that could not, if it wished, enjoy a ray of XVlll INTRODUCTION. the illumination that formed the atmosphere in which their celestial upper classes lived and loved, with the immemorial manners and language which contemporary poets, without anachronism, fitted so well to the gods and goddesses of classic Greece. The dainty filigree of delicacies and refinements, the sensuous luxuries, the sumptuous furnitures of body and mind, the silks, satins, velvets, brocades, ormolu, tapestry; the drama, poetry, music, painting, sculpture, dancing (for, in the reign of the Grand Monarque dancing also must be added to the fine arts); and that constant May-day, as it may be called, on a Field of Cloth of Gold, for pleasure and entertainment — all this became, to the commonest Parisian and the general Frenchman, as commonplace and as unsatisfactorily inaccessible, as our own Celestial sphere has become to the average citizen of to-day. Over in America, it was vast forests before them, fabulous streams, new peoples, with new languages, religions, customs, manners, beauty, living in naked freedom, in skin-covered wigwams, palmetto-thatched huts, with all the range of human thrills of sensation, in all the range of physical adventure. This Avas lieaven enough to stir the Gallic blood still flowing in some hardy veins of France. Women, however, like not these things, but they love the men who do. And, when the Parisian women fol- lowed their hearts, that they did not leave behind in France their ideals nor their realities of brocades, snuff- boxes, high-heeled slippers, euphemisms, minuets, and gavottes ; that they refused to eat corn-bread, and de- manded slaves in their rough-hewn cabins, — all of this, from the genial backward glance of to-day, adds a INTRODUCTION. xix piquant, rather than a hostile, flavouring to the colonial situation. In Canada, the Frenchwomen were forced by the rigorous necessities of climate and savage war, to burst with sudden eclosion from fine dames into intrepid bor- der heroines and inspired martyrs. In Louisiana climate and circumstances were kinder, and so, evolution was substituted for cataclysm. Our city brought her entire character from France, her qualities, as in French good qualities are politely called, and her defects. liut who thinks of her defects, without extenuations ? Not the Canadian and French pioneers who installed her upon the banks of the Mis- sissippi, imagining thereby to install her upon the com- inercial throne of America ; not the descendants of these pioneers, and most assuredly not those whom she has since housed and loved. Critical sister cities note, that for a city of the United States, New Orleans is not enterprising enough, that she has not competition enough in her, that she is un-American, in fact, too Creole. This is a criticism that can be classed in two ways ; either among her qualities or her defects. It is palpably certain that she is careless in regard to opportunities for financial profit, and that slie is an indifferent contestant Avith other cities for trade development and population extension. Schemes do not come to her in search of millionaire patrons; millionaires are not fond of coming to her in search of schemes; noble suitors, even, do not come to her for heiresses. It is extremely doubtful if she will ever be rich, as riches are counted in the Ncav World, this transplanted Parisian city. So many efforts have been expended to make her rich I In vain! She does XX INTRODUCTION. not respond to the process. It seems to bore her. She is too hnpatient, indiscreet, too frank with lier tongue, too free with her hand, and — this is confiden- tial talk in New Orleans — the American millionaire is an impossible type to her. She certainly has been ad- monished enough by political economists : " Any one," say they, " who can forego a certain amount of pleasure can become rich." She retorts (retorts are quicker with her than reasons) : " And any one who can forego a cer- tain amount of riches can have pleasure." And what, if she be a money-spender, rather than a money-saver; and if in addition she be arbitrary in her dislikes, tyrannical in her loves, high-tempered, luxuri- ous, pleasure loving, if she be an enigma to prudes and a paradox to puritans, if, in short, she be possessed of all the defects of the over-blooded rather than those of the under-lilooded, is she not, all in all, charming ? Is she not (that rarest of all qualities in American cities) individual, interesting ? Her tempers, her furies, if you will, past, is she not gentle, sympathetic, tender ? Can any city or women be more delicatel}^ frank, sincere, unegotistic ? Is there a grain of malice in her composi- tion ? Have even her worst detractors ever suspected her of that mongrel vice, — meanness? And finally, in misfortune and sorrow — and it does seem at times that she has known both beyond lier deserts — has she ever known them beyond her strength? Nay, does she not belong to that full-hearted race of women who, when cast by fate upon misfortune, re- bound from the contact, fresher, stronger, more vigor- ous than ever? And in putting sorrows and misfort- unes behind her, to fulfil her role in civic functions, does she not appear what she is essentially, a city of INTRODUCTION. XXI blood and distinction, " grande dame," and, when occa- sions demand, grande dame en grande tenue ? And, outranked hopelessly as she is now in wealth and pop- ulation, is there a city in the Union that can take pre- cedence of her as graciously, and as gracefully, as she can yield it ? ^ The world foreign to France was amazed at the heroism displayed by the delicate ladies of the Court of Louis XVI,, stepping from the gateway of the Concier- gerie to the tumbrels of the guillotine ; passing from their erring mortality of earth to the bar of heaven's immortal justice, with a firmness and composure that unnerved their executioners. All the world ^v'as aston- ished, except themselves ; for they at least knew the qualities i)f their defects. ^^ T-^^ CHAPTER I. " Voici mon fleuve aux vagues solennelles : En demi-lune il se courbe en passant, Et la cite, comme un aiglon naissant, A son flanc gauche etend ses jeunes ailes." — Alfred Mercier. "TN the continuity of a city which lias a historical -L foundation and a historical past, there is much secular consolation for the transitoriness of human life. 'To the true city-born, city-bred heart, nothing less than the city itself is home, and nothing- less than the city is family ; and, more than in our hearts, do we look in tlie city for the memorials that keep our dead in vital reach of us. Here they worked, walked, talked, frequented ; here they mused, even as we are musing ; here they met their adventures of love, their triumphs, their failures ; here they sowed and reaped their religion and politics, held meetings, dispensed elo- quence, protested, commented, even as we are doing now, committing follies and heroisms. Through these streets they were carried in their nurses' arms ; through these streets they were carried in their coffins. These stars, passing over these heavens, passed so for them ; and these seasons, by local promises and disappoint- ments so personally our own, sped by the same for 1 2 NEW ORLEANS. them, marking off their springs, summers, autumns, and winters, of content and discontent. As we walk along the banquettes, our steps feel their footprints, and even the houses about us, new and fresh, and ignoble heirs as we hold them to be of respected ruins, with kindly loyalty to site, still throw down ancestral tokens to us. And not only the city inani- mate, if as such it can be called inanimate, but the city animate, — the people, — how it eternalizes us to ourselves, to one another, old, young, white, black, free, slave ; here we stand linked together, by name and circumstance, by affiliation and interdependence, by love and hate, justice and injustice, virtue and crime, indisputable sequences in the grand logic of humanity, binding one another, generation by genera- tion, to generation and generation, until the youngest baby hand of to-day can clasp its way back to its first city parent, to the city founder, Bienville himself, — and from him, linking on to what a civic pedigree ! Enumerating them haphazard: La Salle, Louis XIV., Marquette, Joliet, Colbert, Pontchartrain, Iberville, the Regent, Louis XV., Carlos III., the great Napoleon, the great Jefferson. It is not entirely a disadvantage to be born a mem- ber of a small isolated metropolis, instead of a great central one. If the seed of its population be good and strong, if the geographical situation be a fortunate one, if the detachment from, and connection with, the civilized world be nicely adjusted, the former being definite and the latter difficult (and surel}^ these condi- tions were met with a century and a half ago on the banks of the Mississippi), there follows for the smaller metropolis a freedom of development, with a resultant NEW ORLEANS. 3 clearness of character, ^\llie*ll is as great a gain for a city as for an individual. In such a smaller niotlier- city, individual acts assume an importance, individual lives an intrinsic value, Avliich it would be absurd to attribute to inhabitants of a great centre ; our gods seem closer to us, our fates more personal ; we come nearer than tliey to having our great ones, our mar- tyrs and heroes, and we can be bolder in our convic- tion of having them, and we can have the na'ivet^, despite ridicule, to express this conviction. It were a poor New Orleanian, indeed, who conld not ennoble a hundred street corners, at least (if the city were so minded and so dowered with wealth) with statues of good and great men and women of our own produc- tion. And we can show saints and martyrs, even now in our midst, than whom, we think, palms never crowned worthier ! It is called the Crescent City, the Mississippi River, in its incessant travail of building and destroying, having here shaped its banks into the concave and convex edges of the moon in its lirst quarter. The great river is the city's stream of destiny, feared and loved, dreaded and worshipped ; it seems at times, wlien its gigantic yellow floods rise high above the level of the land, threatening momentarily to rend like cobwebs the stout levees that withstand it, — it seems then like some huge, pitiless, tawny lion of the desert, playing with a puny victim in its paw. And then, again, flowing in opulent strength, laden with beneficence and wealth, througli its crescent harbor, — it seems a dear giant TTermes, tenderly resting the metropolis, like an infant, on his shoulder. Could we penetrate to the secret archives of the 4 NEW ORLEANS. Mississippi, the private chronicles of its making, the atmospheric, tidal, and volcanic episodes in its majestic evolution, what a drama of nature would be unfolded ! One that, in inflexibility of purpose, and sublime per- sistence of effort, might feebly be described as human. And the Promethean contest still goes on. Still, the great inland water-power fights its way to the South. Ever further and further it throws its turbid stream, throi^h the clear green depths of the Mexican Gulf ; ever firmer and surer advances its yellow banks against the rushing, raging, curling breakers ; still ever, year by year, fixing its great, three-tongued mouth, with deadly grip, on its unfathomable rival. The political history of the Mississippi begins, char- acteristically, one may say, with the appearance of this three-tongued mouth, on the Tabula Terre Nove in the 1513 Ptolemy, made by Waldseemiiller before 1508. This map, traced back to an original of some date before 1502, throws us, searching for tlie discoverer of the Mississippi, into the glorious company of the immediate contemporaries of Christopher Columbus himself. The mind, as well as the heart, warms at the inference that to no one less than Americus Vespu- cius, is due the presence of the Mississippi on this old map, a record, perhaps, of the voyage of Pinzon and Solis, which he accompanied as pilot and astronomer. To Alvarez de Pineda, 1519, is ascribed the honour of the first exploration of the river, and its first name, Rio del Santo Espiritu ; an honour that would have remained uncontested, had the over-sharp explorer not praised his exploit out of all topographical recognition, so peopling its l)anks with Indian tribes, and decking them with villages glittering, according to the taste of NEW ORLEANS. 5 the time, with silver, gohl, and precious stones, that an impartial reader is placed in the dilemma of either refusing credence to the veracity of the explorer, or to the veracity of the three-tongued mouth on the map. Pineda's fable of the golden ornaments of the Indians of the Espiritu Santo was the ignus fatuus that lured Pamphilo de Narvaez, in 1528, to his expedition, ship- wreck, and death in the Delta. One comes into clear daylight in the history of the Mississippi only witli Hernandez de Soto. The river burst, in 1542, in all its majesty and might, upon the -^-., gaze of that fanatical seeker of El Dorado, as he marched across the continent. But it could not impede or detain him. When the blur disappeared at last from before his bewildered vision, and his gold-struck eyes recovered sight, and beheld his haggard desperation, he turned his steps back to the great river, and, hard pressed now by starvation, fever, and goading disap- pointment, he but gained its banks in time to die under the grateful shade of spring foliage, and find inviolate sepulture for his corpse in its turbid depths. A century and a half passed and the Mississippi 6 ]SfE]V ORLEANS. relapsed to its old Indian name and to its aboriginal mystery and seclusion. The huge drift of its annual flood accumulated at its mouth in fantastic heaps, which in time, under action of river, wind, and sun, took the semblance of a weird stone formation and an impregnable barrier. " Los Palissados " the Spanish sea-farers and buccaneers called them, avoiding them, not only with real, but with superstitious terror. To the seventeenth-century colonists of Canada, the stream was, one might say, so unknown that when the Indians told of a great river flowing through the con- tinent, cutting it in two, they jumped to the conclusion (their wishes being to them logical inference) that the stream flowed from east to west, and so would furnish to the French the{7' El Dorado, — a western passage to China. This false inference was the inspiration of that great epic of colonial literature, the story of Robert Cave- lier de la Salle, the Don Quixote of pioneer chronicles. His imagination, great as the Mississippi itself, turned its irresistible currents into this one channel, — the dis- covery and exploration of the new route to China. His enthusiasm, unfortunately, infected all with whom he talked, from the trader and half-breed at his side, up through church and state, priests, intendants, govern- ors, courtiers, ministers, princes, to the very fountain head of power and authority, to the king himself, mak- ing them all, in more or less degree, his Sancho Panzas. And at the end of thirteen years of such vicissitudes as no liuman imagination would have the fertility to con- ceive, the river was found to flow not west, nor into any communicable reach of China, but south, into the Gulf of Mexico I NEW ORLEANS. 7 La Salle's ardour rcac^tcd, liowever, from any disap- pointment that this might iniply, and soared into proba- bilities superior in thrilling interest even to expectations from China. In the year 1G82, standing on the desolate bank of the Mississippi, he, in the name of the king ol' France, took possession of it, and of its country, north, south, east, and west, to the extreme limit of verl)al comprehension, christening the river St. Louis, and the country Louisiana. Through the sonorous sentences of liis "prise de possession" shines the glittering future that dazzled his eyes. In easy reach of the treasure house of the king of Spain, the mines of Mexico, France had but to extend her hand at any time to grasp them, if she did not discover vaster, richer ones, in this new, undeveloped country. Already owning Canada and the great Western Lakes, this great central waterway and valley of North America, with its opening on the Gulf (the West Indian highway), gave France such gri}) upon the country tliat, by mere expansion of forts and settlements, England and Spain could be elbowed into the oceans on either side. Such a vision might have hred any imagination. The place La Salle proposed to fortify on tlie river Colbert, as he again re-christenecl the jMississippi, was sixty leagues above its mouth, where, he said, the soil was very fertile, the climate mild, and whence the I'^rench could control the American continent. Thus and then was the idea of New Orleans conceived. It was not granted the author, however, to give the idea actuality, the gods having planned the story otherwise. His determination and attempt, from 1684 to 1687, to found the city and bring his colony and stores to it, 8 NEW ORLEANS. through its Gulf entrance, and not by way of Canada, furnish the misfortunes, cahimities, and cuhninating catastrophe of the incredibly heartrending last chapter of his life. The indomitable courage and inflexible per- severance he displayed could he overmatched, it would seem, only by the like qualities in his evil genius. One rises somewhat to his own sublimity of desperation, as, even after two centuries, one reads the relentless record of the ill steering that threw his expedition upon the coast of Texas, of his struggle for hope and life, of his attempt to seek on foot help from Canada ; of his betrayal and assassination. It is a wild and mournful story, as Parkman calls it. La Sallo's idea, however, arose only more radiantly triumphant from tlie blood-soaked earth of his Texas grave, and the true spirit of his enthusiasm lived in the enthusiasm he had engendered. When the proper mo- ment came, his scheme Avas vital enoTigh in govern- mental centres to kindle into energy the will to give it another chance at success. The proper moment arrived in 1697, when the Peace of Ryswick granted a breath- ing space to war-driven Europe. Louis XIV. was quick to seize it. Pontchartrain, the Minister of Marine, was iis prompt in furnishing the means. Maurepas, his son and private secretary, was ready with the man, Pierre Lemoyne d'lberville. Canadian born and bred, and, in the commentary of his governor, " As military as his sword and as used to water as his canoe," with all the practical qualities of character since claimed as American, in primal fresh- ness and vigour, Iljerville seems the man as clearly pre- destined to succeed in the New World, as La Salle, the mediaeval genius, seems predestined to fail in it. Iber- (^1[»&.\\;%\^ fo6^< Lcr NEW ORLEANS. 11 villo's enterprise as we call it now ami deterniiiiation to recognize no eventuality but success, appeared in truth to discourage (as enterprise and determination have a way of doing) the very efforts of wind and tide against him. The ex|)edition he led from IJrest, in 1()9S, steered straight across the Gulf on its course, without accident or misadventure ; his ships anchored safe; in the harbor of Ship Island; and, from the very jaws of the tem[)est, his l)arges glided into s(H*urity through one of the dreaded palisadoed moutlis of the Missis- sippi. And, as if still further to ai'ciMdua-te liis festal fortune, it was on thi; Mardi (iras of 1 (!'.»'.>, while 1^' ranee was laughing, dancing, carousing, and mas([uerading, that he erected her cross and arms upon the soil of Lou- isiana, and reaffirmed her possession of a colony gi'catcr in extent than licr whole European worhL After exploring the river for five hundred miles, the nature; and [lossibilities of the country gradually un- folded to Il)ervine, and La Salle's far-reaching scIkmuc, for I'^rench domination in America, aj)peai-cd in its true signilicance to him ; and he becanu; the ardent chamj»i(tn of it. Discarding his pi-cdcccssoi's' wild and erring calculations uj)on the existeni'e of silver mines in Louisiana, he cared only for tlie military and political iuipoi'tancc (if the new ])ossession ; and referred to the Mexican mines only to suggest the feasibility of captur- ing them at any tinu', with a handful of buccaneers and coni'curs tie bois, or at least of way-laying the gold and silver laden caramels on their way to Spain. La Salle's project of a chain of tortilied posts along the line of the Mississippi and of the great ti-ibutaries from Canada to the (iulf, he su})plenu'utcd with a ])rac- tical [)lan for consolidating the Indians into connecting 12 NEW on LEANS. links between the posts, and so, holding not only the conntry but the people also, to France. On the voyage up the river, the Indian guide con- ducted Iberville to the portage which crossed the nar- row strip of land between the Mississippi and the arm of the (lulf, afterwards called Lake Pontchartrain. A few miles below, in a sharp bend of the l)ank, was a small, rude, savage stronghold, that commanded the river; near by were some deserted huts. The indica- tions fixed the locality in the mind of Iberville, and of his young brotlier and companion, Bienville, as the proper one for the future city. lint the Canadian first made sure of his country. He fixed a fort and garrison at the mouth of the Mis- sissippi ; established a strongly fortified settlement on the (iulf at liiloxi, held on to his harbor of Ship Island, and planted outposts at Mobile, to guard against enter- prise from the Spaniards at Pensacola. The waters of the drulf of Mexico seemed ever of yore to woo the ambitious with irresistible tempta- tions. The spirits of the old Spanish adventurers were its sirens, and the song they sang of lawless free- dom, concpiest, and power, turned many an honest ca})- tain into a buccaneer, and maddened l)uccaneers, with dreams of empire and dominion, into pirates. It was the song of all others to fire the martial heart of lb >r- ville. (Jradually, he deflected from the La Salle idea, or bent it into an Iberville idea, — a French (or at times one suspects, an Iberville) domination of all the islands of the Gulf and the mastery of its waters. For such a scheme, a stronghold on the (Iulf was of far more value than a city on the Mississippi; con- sequently, the establishment was removed from Biloxi NEW on LEANS. 13 to the more accessible Mtjbile, which became the capital and centre of the colony. Magnetized by past snccesses against the English, into perfect confidence of future ones, Iberville ob- tained from his government a strong armament, and sailed with it into his new field of action. As a jire- liminary experiment, he captured the little islands of Nevis and St. Christopher; then, finding the English at Barbadoes and the larger islands prepared for him, he decided, instead of attacking them at that moment, to surprise and raid the coast of the Carolinas, as he once, with brilliant barbarity, had done to the coast of Newfoundland. But, stopping at Havana for a prom- ised reinforcement of Spaniards, he was seized with the yellow fever, raging there in epidemic, and died in the full vigour of his prime, in the year 1706. CHAPTER II. T3IENVILLE is the man whom Loui.siaiiians place at -*-^ tlie head of tlieir liistory. In his (hiy, tliey called him the Father of Lonisiana, and New Orleans is as incontestal)ly his city as if La Salle and Iberville had not so much as thought of it. He was Jean Baptiste Le j\foyne. A midshipman of eighteen, he accom- panied Iberville on liis voyage of the discovery of the Mississippi, and fair, slight, almost undersized, his fig- ure formed no less striking a contrast to his physically superb brother, than his gentle, quiet, meditative face did to the rough, bold, hardy countenances of the Canadians and buccaneers in the same expedition. He was left in the colony by Iberville, with the rank of second in command. A fever carrying off his chief, Sauvole, during Iberville's absence, he assumed full command. Iberville, always strong in the favour of the - Ministry of the Marine, secured the confirmation of 14 NEW ORLEANS. 15 this position, and tlius the young officer at twenty be- came the highest executive and sole representative of royal authority in the colony. The promotion was quite in the line of his imagi- nation, if not of his intention, and tlie intention of Iberville, in settling him in Louisiana. The American emigrants of to-day are no more as[)iring in their deter- minations, nor determined in their aspirations, than were the Canadian emigrants of the seventeenth century, lint the Canadian emigrant aimed at noble rank, feu- dal power and privileges. Thus, the father of Iberville and IJienville, Charles Le Moyne, himself the son of an innkeeper of Dieppe, a thrifty trader and interpreter, while amassing land and fortune by the life and death ventures of a pioneer in Canada, aimed his ambition for Ins sons, and fixed their careers by giving them the noble surnames proper to seigneurial rights and estates, — de Longueuil, de Sainte Helene, de Maricourt, de Serigny, de Bienville, de Chateauguay, — and events [)roved him not a bad marksman. Whilst the younger brothers were still children, the eldest had served in France; had, with his Indian attendant, figured at Court as related by the Duchess of Orleans in one of her let- ters to her sister, the Countess Palatine Louise ; had married the daughter of a nobleman, a lady in wait- ing to her Royal Highness of Orleans ; and had built that great fortress-chateau of Longueuil, the marvel of stateliness and elegance of the day for all Canada ; and had obtained his patent of nobility and title of Baron. The little Bienville, an orphan from the age of ten, was brought up l)y the Baron de Longueuil, in all the state- liness and elegance of the chateau ; and it is to this environment and reariny: that we are indebted for 16 NEW ORLEANS. that "tenue de grand Seigneur,'* which threw such quaint picturesqueness, not only over his personality, but over the city which he founded, as is noticeable by many a token to-day. Bienville, nevertheless, was a born coureur de bois, as Iberville was a born buccaneer. With a trusty Cana- dian companion or two, he paddled his pirogue through the bayous, and threaded the forests of Louisiana, until he became as expert a guide as any Indian in the territory. And, with his native Canadian instincts, to assist natural capacity for acquiring the dialects, habits, manners, and etiquette of the savages, he learned to know them, and thereby to govern them, as no Indian in his territory could ever assume to do. For twenty- seven years his authority over them was absolute. The stiff parchment and rigid sentences of government etiquette have rarely conveyed reports so redolent of forest verdure, freshness, and natural adventure as his. It comes to us still, in fragrant whiffs, even from the printed page, and one likes to dream that in that an- cient swarm of government officials in the marine office of that day in Paris, there may have existed some infinitesimal clerk, with — despite his damnable fate — an adventurous heart. With what eagerness must he not have turned, as six months by six months rolled by, to the belated courier from Louisiana, and the budget from Bienville. What a life-giving draught, — a Fenimore Cooper draught, — to the parched plodding mind ! It was not all, however, nor even the best of it, in Bienville's reports, nor in the reports sent to the gov- ernment by the facile, if unorthographic pens of his companions, young French and Canadian officers whom NEW ORLEANS. 17 we shall meet here and there later on , for there is Peiinicaiit ! The literary pilgrim comes to many an unexpected oasis in the arid deserts of colonial re- search, whose shaded wells turn out to be veritable places of dalliance and pleasure. Such a complimentary com])arison, if ever manuscript suggested it, must be thought of in connection with Pennicaut's "Journal." At least, so it appears to the Louisiana pilgrim. Pennicaut was born in La Rochelle. He was to be a ship-carpenter, but at tlie age of fifteen had the [)assion for travelling so strong in him, that three years later, unable to resist it any longer, he engaged, oh blessed time for passion-driven travellers ! for a voyage Avhose destination he did not know, but which ended in tlie discovery of the mouth of the Mississippi. About the same age as Bienville, and Avith patent congeniality of temperament, he was his constant at- tendant in his excursions and expeditions, and his ever- faithful admirer. Pennicaut could never have read a novel : he certainly Avould have mentioned it if he had, l)ut that he knew what a novel should be, and that he had in him the capability of writing many a one, no reader of his " Journal " can doubt for an instant. He wrote his adventures, from memorj^, years after in Paris, where he had gone by the advice of Bienville, in search of relief against threatened blindness. He iiad a hope that his literary effort would gain him the pension of the king; but, in spite of our own earnest wishes to find the evidence, there is none that Penni- caut's hope did not die of the usual disappointment that awaits the hope of the literary. IJesides lUeiiville's excursions and adventures, thrown into far better chronologieal proportion and effect than 18 NEW ORLEANS. reality granted, and related with an eye to detail, of which Bienville himself did not know the fictional advantage, — we have Pennicaut's own adventures. It may be frankly confessed at the outset, that Penni- caut's experiences in the merry greenwood are of far more entertaining character than those of his commandant, and that (as he relates them ) his services in the colony lead him into situations infinitely more thrilling , and we are thankful that it was so. One cannot help being thankful in reading Pennicaut, that it was so, that such a rare talent for relating adventures was so providentially accompanied by the still rarer talent of acquiring them. The third hero of the "Journal " is that Louisiana hero of romance, par excellence, that doughty chevalier, invincible Indian fighter, and irresistible lover and founder of Natchitoches, the Sieur Juchereau de St. Denis. St. Denis came from Canada to join his rela- tives Iberville and Bienville, in their new and promis- ing field of fortune. After some independent brilliant improvisations among the Alabama and Louisiana Indians, he liit upon a scheme, — which offered, in his mind, the most entrancing reaches of peril and fortune. This was an overland trade, between Mobile and Mexico, a contraband trade, for the protective tariff of Spain prevented any other. It was during the Crozat regime in Louisiana, when the French capitalist was making the experiment, and proving the illusion, of a French monopoly of trade in the Gulf of Mexico ; and St. Denis soon obtained a commission, to be his own avant-coureur, in the enterprise. He was accompanied by his valet, l)arber, and sur- geon. Jallot : and Jallot, as Pennicaut's friend, by pre- NE]V ORLEANS. 21 dilection in the colony, evidently obtained for the latter the jjerraission to join an excursion, than whicli nothing could have appeared more tempting to a literary and adventurous expert. Arrived at Presidio del Norte, St. Denis found that tlie Spaniards had his reception all prepared for him. His attendants were detained in the garrison, and he was sent on to Mexico under military escort, to explaiji himself to the governor. But it is unjust to St. Denis to allow the telling of his story to any one but Pennicaut. For a real story, the facts could not possibly have had better authen- ticity. That which St. Denis, in those expansive mo- ments of the toilette which even the most reservetl cannot resist, confided to Jallot, Jallot confided to Pen- nicaut over their social glass. It is safe to presvmie that any lacunar that arose eitlier from laj^se of confi- dences between the master and valet, or lapses of betrajail from Jallot to Pennicaut, or lapses of mem- ory on the part of Pennicaut, writing afterwards in France, — the latter was fully able to bridge with his own sure sense of the exigencies of fictional archi- tecture ; and so, we will allow him to proceed, with a few necessary curtailments : — " Escorted by an officer and twenty-four Spanish horsemen M. de St. Denis voyaged over the two hundred and fifty miles to the capital of Mexico, where he had an interview with the Viceroy, to whom he showed his passports. The Viceroy, who was the Duke of Linares, after liaving looked at the passi:)orts, replied that M. de St. Denis had made a poor voyage, and without listening further to him, put him in prison. M. de St. Denis, very nuich astonished at such a procedure, was not a little put out by it. He remained over three montlis in prison. IIa]>pily for him, there were some Frenchmen in Mexico, in the service of Spain, 22 NEW ORLEANS. who knew Iberville very well. These spoke in favour of St. Denis, to the Viceroy, who interviewed M. cle St. Denis a second time, and offered him a company of cavalry and service with the king of Spain. But M. de St. Denis, without being touched by the offer, replied that he had taken an oath to the king of France, whose service he would leave only with his life. "It had beeii reported to the Viceroy that, while M. de St. Denis had remained at Presidio del Norte, he had courted the daughter of the Captain, Don Pedro de Villesco. The Viceroy, to influence him, told him that he was a half-naturalized Spaniard already, since, on his return to the Presidio he was to marry the eldest daughter of Don Pedro de Villesco. ' I will not deny to you, my lord,' replied M. de St. Denis, ' that I love Doiia INIaria, since it has been told to your excellency, but I have never flattered myself that I should merit marrying her.' "The Viceroy assured him that he could count upon it, that if he accepted the offer made him, of a company of cavalry and service with the king of Spain, Don Pedro would be delighted to give him his daughter in marriage. ' 1 give you my word upon it,' he added. ' At the same time, I shall allow you two months to think over my proposition, during which time you will remain here at full liberty to go where you please in the city. You will meet here many French officers in the service of the king of Spain, and who are very well pleased with it.' "M. de St. Denis thanked the Duke of Linares for his kindness, particulai"ly for the liberty he gave him ; after which, on leaving the apartment, M. de St. Denis was accosted by a Spanish oflScer, who, speaking pretty bad French, told him that he had orders to lodge him in his house, and to accompany him on his pi'omenade in the city. M. de St. Denis, who knew by experience that to keep on good terms with men of this nation, one must load them with compliments and deference, replied in the Spanish officer's own language, that he would be very much obliged for the oflacer's company, which would give him the greatest pleasure. " The officer conducted his guest to his house, which was a cottage furnislied after the Spanish manner, that is, with curtains of linen, the walls all bare, and chairs made entirely of wood. He showed him a chamber beside his own, only a little larger NEW ORLEANS. 23' ami a little cleaner, opening on the garden, where, he said, M. de St. Uenis would sleep. "They were about going out when the eavalcailor major oi the Viceroy entered, and presented to M. de St. Denis a sack containing three hundred piasters, wliich the Viceroy sent for his use while he remained in Mexico. " M. de St. Denis, accompanying the grand equerry to the foot of the stairs, begged him to convey to the Viceroy how much overwhelmed he was with all his liberalities. After which, re- entering his apartment, he asked the Spanish officer to accompany him to a place where he could find sonuithing to eat for the money, and where he wished the honour of the oflicei-'s company at dinner. "The officer willingly guided him to a hostelry frequented by French and Spanish officers, where they had good cheer witliout lieing fleeced of their money, the price of the meal being fixed at one dollar a head. M. de St. Denis continued to eat there during the two months he remained in INIexico. lie there became acquainted with many French otticers in the Sjianish service, wlio knew of him, without his knowing then), because nu)st of them had been friends of Iberville's. He likewise made the acquaintance of one of the most considerable Spaniards in the city, who tried again and again to induce him to enter the service of the king of Spain. He was even invited several times to the table of the Viceroy, who gave magnificent dinners every day. Nothing that he had ever seen appeared to INI. de St. Denis so rich as the Viceroy's service of silver. Even the furniture of ills apartments, his armoirs, tables, down to his andirons, all wi're of massive silver, of extraordinary size and weight, but rudely fashioned. " M. de St. Denis was nuist careful, all the time he was in Mexico, to guard his words, to say nothing that could be used to his prejudice, although every day he partook of the good cheer of the French and Spanish officers, who neglected no effoi't to attract him to themselves. They were no doubt pushed to this by the Viceroy, but they did not succeed, and this was what ]u-obably induced the Viceroy to give JNI. de St. Denis his conge. One day when he had him to dinner, he took him aside into a nuignificent cabinet, into which j\I. de St. Denis had never 24 NEW ORLEANS. entered before, and told him, since he could not be prevailed upon to enter the service of the king of Spain, he was at liberty to return to Louisiana, and that he could depart with the officer with whom he lodged, presenting him, at the same time, a purse of a thousand dollars, "which," said the duke laughing, "he gave him for the expenses of the wedding," hoping that the Dona Maria would influence him more than he and his officers had, towards accepting his offers. " M. de St. Denis immediately commenced his preparations for departure. He supped with all his French and Spanish friends, and bade them good-bye, embracing them all heartily. " While he was dressing next moi'niug, the grand equerry of the Viceroy entered his chamber, and informed him that his Excellency had sent him a horse from his stables, to nuike the journey with. " Thanking the officer in Spanish, expressing his gratitude for all the kindness of the Viceroy, whose magnificence and generosity he would make known to the governor of Louisiana and to all the Frenchmen there, M. de St. Denis descended the stairs with the equerry and received the horse, which was held by a page of the Viceroy. Me exclaimed much over the beauty and value of the present, which gave the equerry the opportunity to descant upon the riches of his master, whom he elevated to the rank of the greatest kings of the world ; detailing the number of his servants, and of his horses, saying that in his stables there were still two thousand handsomer than the one he had just given away, besides a prodigious quantity of furniture and services of silver. " M. de St. Denis dared not interrupt him, although the dis- course had lasted over a half hour, and he was beginning to tire of it ; when fortunately the officer, who was to act as escort, called out of the window to him, that he must come to breakfast, as they were to start within the hour. Tlie present of the Viceroy was a bay horse, and one of the handsomest M. de St. Denis had ever mounted. "Travelling at their ease, it took the gentlemen three months to reach Coahuila. Here they found Jallot awaiting his master, riallot had lived all this time from his trade of chirurgeon, and had even gained a great reputation among the Spaniards for his cure of many diseases to which they were subject. M. de St. NEW ORLEANS. 26 Denis ;iii(l liis escort lodged ;it the best inn of the place, where, liowever, they would not have fared so well had not Jallot himself prepared their food. At the end of eight day.s, the governor of C'oahuila gave M. de St. Denis an officer and six cavaliers to conduct him to Presidio del NoVte. He also permitted him to buy a horse for his valet, which, although it was very good, cost only ten piasters. " Eight days after that they arrived at Presidio del Norte, where St. Denis lodged with Senor Don Pedro de Villesca. lie had been there only a week when circumstances occurred to greatly advance his marriage with Dona IMaria. Four villages of Indians, who were under Don Pedro's jurisdiction, took the determination to abandon their habitations and establish themselves outside of Spanish territory. They loaded their beasts with the best of their movables, and commenced their marcli. Don Pedro was very much troubled by this, as he was partly to blame for the defection, hav- ing given too much license to his officers who were constantly vexing and pillaging the Indians, knowing that they dared not defend themselves. Don Pedro did not know what to do to ])ut a stop to the movement; besides, no one dared go to the Indians, i'oi- the four villages formed a force of a thousand men, armed with bows and arrows. M. de St. Denis, seeing the embarrassment of Don l'eut M. de St. Denis did not trouble himself about that. lie mounted his horse, and followed liy -lallot, rode forth after the Indians. Attaching his handkerchief to the end of a cane, he made signs to them from a distance, and when he came up to tlicMii, lie spoke to them in Spanish, telling them to return, that all they wanted would be granted them, promising them on the part of Don Pedro, that they should not be harassed any more, showing them the dangers they would have to face from hostile Indians outside the Spanish government, adding that the Spanish soldiers would be forl)id(len, luider penalty of death, to go to their villages; and tiiat tiiey need only follow him to hear this law laid down to the yarrison. 26 NEW ORLEANS. "The four chiefs did not ask any better than that theyshoiild remain undisturbed in their lands, so they and their people fol- lowed M. de St. Denis, who, much to the astonishment of the gar- rison, led them to the Presidio, — the whole four thousand men, women, and children. Alighting from his horse, M. de St. Denis spoke a few moments aside with Don Pedro, who was charmed to take upon himself any obligation, for the governor of the province would have attributed the desertion of the Indians to his negli- gence, and would have so reported it to the Viceroy, who would not have failed to hold him responsible. Therefore, assembling- all his cavaliers in the presence of the Indians, he published a law, forbidding them, under penalty of death, to go hereafter to the Indian villages, or vex them in any manner. lie then exhorted the Indians to return to their villages, which tliey did, and have never left them since. "As has been said, this advanced greatly the marriage of M. de St. Denis with Doiia Maria. "The wedding took place two months afterwards, in the village church. When the marriage articles were signed by both parties, Don Pedro went to Coahuila to buy wedding garments. M. de St. Denis sent Jallot with him to make some purchases also. They returned at the end of a niontli, and six or seven days afterwards the wedding was celebrated witli pomp. M. de St. Denis gave to each of the Spanish cavaliers three dollars and a yellow cockade to wear on his hat. He presented to his wife a very handsome dia- mond which he had brought from France with him. The wed- ding lasted three days, during which the Spanish soldiers had gi'eat feasting and jollity, and they did not spare their powder for salutes. " After the wedding JVI. de St. Denis remained eight months with his father-in-law. Then, accompanied by his brother-in-law and three Sjianish cavaliers, he set out for Louisiana, to make his report to the governor, promising to return for his wife as soon as possible. The governor of Louisiana, giving up all idea of an amicable trade with the Spaniards, built a fort at Natchitoches, to protect his frontier against them, and sent M. de St. Denis, with a garrison, to take possession of it. Tliere, the Spanish brother-in- law and cavaliers bade M. de St. Denis adieu, and journeyed to Presidio del Norte. NEW ORLEANS. 27 "After their departure, M. de St. Denis I'cll into a profound sadness tliat lie could not go with them to see his father-in-law and his wife, Dona IMaria, but the Spaniards also had established a fort on tlieir frontier, and he feared to be taken a prisoner, and expose his life in Mexico a second time, for the Viceroy had declared to him that he would never be permitted to enter Alexico again without an order from the king of Spain. "One day he was absorbed in his reflections, in the little forest at the point of the island of Natchitoches, on the bank of Red River, where he was in the habit of promenading alone. eJallot, who was in the woods amusing himself picking strawberries, see- ing his master, watched him a long time from behind a bush ; and, knowing his grief, to amuse hira brought him the strawberries he had gathered in a little basket. M. de St. Denis asking where he had found them, Jallot told him, adding that there were better ones in IMexico. "'I should think so,' said M. de St. Denis, 'as the country is warmer, the fruit should be much better. And I can tell you, Jallot, that I have the greatest desire to cross these frontiers and go there, not for the fruit, but to see my wife, and my child, which is her fruit and mine. Although it is three months since Don Juan left, I have received no news from her or from my father-in-law, although T wrote to them by Don Juan. And I am in such grief that I am resolved to go and see Dona Maria even if I lose my life in the attempt, rather than remain here, consuming myself in sad- ness, as T am doing.' " ' Why vex and worry yourself so long?' said Jallot; ' the route is neither so long nor so difficult as you imagine, f know all the roads across these forests and can conduct you to Don Pedro's with- out ever being seen by any one.' " ' You cannot think it ! ' said M. de St. Denis ; ' can there be any chance of my making a journey of twelve hundred miles without being discovered?' 'I know,' says Jallot, ' that T have made the journey four times without any mischance, and, if you wish, we can, on pretence of hunting, go up the river in a pirogue, twelve miles from here, and landing, continue on foot until we reach the village of Don Pedro.' " .\fter thinking a few moments, M. de St. Denis told Jallot that he would confide himself to him, and it was for him to take all 28 NEW OBLEANS. precautions to succeed in the trip, which niiglit cost them botli their lives if they were discovered; that for his part he was deter- mined to risk his life, and to leave in three days, for that was the time he gave him to make his preparations." Tliu journal details how worthy Jallot was of this conlidence of his master's ; how admirable were the prejjarations for the journey ; how successfully it was carried out. We do not need Jallot to tell us that M. de St. Denis could never have accomplished it with- out him ; we are convinced of it the moment the trav- ellers left the pirogue and planted their first footstep in tlie forest. They travelled by night and slept by day, subsisting on the game they — or rather that Jallot invariably — found and killed. They were two months on the journey, the last day of which found M. de St. Denis and Jallot reposing in the woods a league and a half away from Don Pedro's village. M. de St. Denis asked Jallot how he was going to manage to get into the house of Don Pedro with )ut being seen. "We must wait," answered Jallot, "until past midnight, because, in summer, the Spaniards are u}) and about very late at night ; and then you have only to let me manage, and follow me. I shall get you into the garden behind the house of Don Pedro. The garden is enclosed by a hedge ; in one corner of it there is a place through which I used to enter at night to visit a certain pretty little Spanish girl whom I knew at the time of your marriage." M. de St. Denis fell to laughing and said : " No wonder our voyage has progressed well, since our augury was so good. It is love that has guided us both." "Our fate," replied Jallot, " is very different. Yon are sure of finding in Doha Maria a wife who loves you : I am not NEW ORLEANS. 20 at all certain of finding a sweetheart, who may be married/' And thus they entertained one another until night- fall. Then Jallot took out of his bag a piece of roast venison, which he placed upon a napkin before his mas- ter ; but M. de St. Denis could not eat. As for Jallot, wlio liad a good appetite, he ate a great deal and slept soundly afterwards. M. de St. Denis was also too anxious to sleep, so he kept arousing Jallot every minute, telling him it was time to set out. Finally, seeing by the stars that it was midnight, Jallot de- parted on a preliminary reconnoissance. He returned at the end of two hours, and bade his master, who was storming with impatience, follow him. Walking rapidly, in a road between an avenue of trees, they reached the ditch surrounding Don Pedro's garden, crossed it, found the place in the hedge, where .la Hot, by throwing down a fagot of dried brambles, mounted to the terrace inside, and giving his hand to his master assisted him to mount also. While Jallot replaced the brambles, M. de St. Denis strode softly into the garden. In the faint moonlight he saw the figure of his wife promenading alone, lie went to her to embrace her, but she gave a cry of fright and fell fainting. Fortunately, M. de St. Denis had on liim a bottle of the water of " The Queen of Hungary""; he held this to Dona Maria's nose and so brouglit her back to consciousness and to recognition of himself. She threw herself upon his breast. After embi-aeing one another, over and over again, he took her, with his arm ai'ound her waist, to the little parlour overlooking the garden — the one underneath the chamber she slept in during the summer. 30 NEW ORLEANS. After talking a little with her husband, Doiia ^Nlaria called her father and uncle, who came and embraced M. de St. Denis. Supper was served ; but M. de St. Denis ate very little, observing which, and also how tired he was, the gentlemen soon retired, leav- ing him to his repose — where, as Pennicaut says, we shall also leave him. The next day his father-in-law took M. de St. Denis aside and begged a favour of him. M. de St. Denis replied that there was nothing he could refuse him, and that he was ready to render him any service, even at the expense of his life. " I would not make this prayer of you," said Don Pedro, " were it not that your life is in danger, as well as mine, if you do not follow the advice I give you." And then he told his son-in-law that he had received orders from the Viceroy to arrest him, should he, M. de St. Denis, ever come to see Doha Maria, and that an ofiicer and twenty-five men, sent by the governor of Coahuila, had been waiting six months in the village to catch him ; that it was absolutely necessary that neither he nor J allot should leave the house, otherwise he would be seen and taken prisoner to the Viceroy, out of whose hands he would not escape so easily a second time. " I myself," said Don Pedro, " shall never arrest you, even should it cost me my life. Therefore, I pray you again not to leave my house, which no one has seen you enter, and where you will never be discovered, particularly in the apartments of Doha Maria, which no one ever enters." St. Denis promised, and forbade Jallot also, to leave his room. "What is surprising," Jallot related to Pennicaut afterwards, " M. de St. Denis passed nearly a year thus. NEW ORLEANS. 31 only leaving the apartments oi' his wife after dark of an evening, when he promenaded with her under the avenue of trees in the garden. He did not become tired, because they loved one another more tenderly than ever. . . . As for me," continued the valet, "• 1 never passed a more tiresome time in my life, particu- larly in the winter, when it became too cold to walk in i^ Svn<^n 6s'Tr e e the garden. Sometimes, at night, when the door of the house was closed, I would sit by the fire with a great thin, ugly servant maid, called Luce, who was prouder than the daughter of the most celebrated barber in Mexico." The birth of a second child to Dona INIaria, and its baptism in her room, although conducted in all secrecy 32 NEW OllLEANS. (St. Denis remaining, during the ceremony, hidden in an inner cham])er), brought suspicion upon the house of Don Pedro. Under fear of orders from the gov- ernor of Coahuila, for a domiciliary visit, St. Denis, parting from his wife "• with many tears on each side," left as secretly as he came. He and Jallot returned on foot to Natchitoches. The journey took them six weeks, and it was filled with all the adventures possible to the time and circumstances, or to Jallot's imagination, or Pennicaut's love of romance, — Indian and Spanish attacks, hand-to-hand combats, ending finally in tlie safe arrival of St. Denis and his valet at the French frontiers, mounted on chargers that they had captured from the Spaniards. "• These," says Pennicaut, " are the details of the love of his master, given me by Jallot." (9>\"©>vou ^t J^>iy 5 I CHAPTER III. TDTENVILLE liad never wavered in his conviction -'--' that the raison d'etre of the French domination ot" Louisiana was but the possession and control of the Mississippi. This control, as he reiterated in every report, could only be assured by colonizing its banks and by establishing upon it the capital city of the colony. For eighteen years the founding of this city grew from the fair ambition of the youth to the settled determination of the middle-aged man. On his excur- sions from Mobile he recurs again and again to the site, between tlie river and the lake, shown to Inm and Iber- ville by the Indian guide. He and Pennicaut, as Pen- nicaut relates, traversed it often on foot, and he settled some Canadians upon it to make trial of its soil and climate, and, as far as in him lay, he made it the official portage of the colony, through which communication was made between the lake and the river when the dif- ti(!ult entrance of the latter by mouth was to be avoided. It was twenty years before the opportunity came for which he was waiting. In September, 1717, Louisiana, by royal charter, passed into the great colonial assets of that company of the west, by which John Law proposed to scheme France out of financial bankruptcy into the 33 34 NEW ORLEANS. millennium of unlimited credit. In February, 1718, Law's Pactolus of speculation floated its first shiploads of men, money, and provisions to Louisiana. Out of them Bienvilla grasped the beginnings of his city. When the ships returned to France, they carried back with them the official announcement that it had been founded, and named after the Regent, Duke of Orleans. What a picture flashes upon the eye with the name I There is absolutely no seeing of Bienville's group of pal- metto-thatched huts by the yellow currents of the Mis- sissippi. Instead, there is the brilliant epoch of the regency, — that "century in eight years," as it has been well called — that Ijurst upon France like a pyrotechnic display, after the protracted, sombre old age of Louis XIV ; when Paris, intoxicated by the rush of new life in her veins, staggered through her orgies of pleasure, arts, science, literature, finance, politics, — after her leader, her lover, the Regent Duke ; her fair flower and the symbol of all that the eighteenth century contained of worst and best, the incarnation of all that is vicious, of all that is genial, debased, charming, handsome, witty, restless, tolerant, generous, sceptical, good-natured, shrewd. Kindly adjectives are so much quicker in their services to describe him than harsh ones, anecdotes and bon-mots are so ready-winged to fly to his succour against condemnation, that one feels the impotence against him that actuated his own mother to invent an apologue to explain him, an apologue, par parenthese that might have been invented also to explain his Ameri- can city. "The fairies were all invited to my bedside; and, as each one gave my son a talent, he had them all. Unhappily, one old fairy had been forgotten. Arriv- ing after the others, she exclaimed in her pique : ' He NEW ORLEANS. 35 will have all the talents except that of being able to make use of them.' " And what a role in that Paris of the Regent was tlie Mississippi to play, w4th her Louisiana and her infant city of New Orleans ? In truth, like Cinderella at the king's ball, she dazzled all eyes until the fatal limit of her time expired. Historians describe how t he names of Mississippi, Louisiana, New Orleans filled Vfturt Ho 3' .auu^jptfa*!?^! the cafes where the new Arabian luxury held enchanted sway over men's minds. It is said that France never talked so much or so well as under the influence of the subtle stimulant, " which sharpens precision and subli- mates lucidity," — "le cafe, qui supprime la vague et lourde poesie des fumees de I'imagination, qui, du reel bien vu, fait jaillir I'etincelle et I'eclair de la verite." And it may be said that France never had more to talk 36 NEW ORLEANS. about, a more inspiring subject for facile tongues, than Law, his great scheme and his evangel, " Riches can be a creation of faith." There was, of course, a claque to lead applause for it ; all the literature that could hang to it appeared suddenly on the streets ; wonderful books of travel and adventure in the New World in the Islands, as, in their geographical ignorance, the people called America ; and pictures — a telling print showing a savage paying a Frenchman a piece of gold for a knife ; — it all took. Love of pleasure begets need of money. Law had his time and people made to Ids hand. A wild frenzy of speculation spread like the raljies, and — but a satirical verse of the time rolls it off for us : — ■' Aujourd'hui il n'est plus question, Ni de la Constitution, Ni de la guerre contre I'Espague ; Un nouveau Pais de Cocague, Que Ton nomnie Mississippi, Koule a present sur le Tapis. Sans Charbon, Fourneau ni Soufflet Un homme a trouve le secret, De la pierre philosophale, Dans cette terre occidentale, Et fait voir, jusqii'a present. Que nous etions des ignorants. Tl a fait de petits billets, Qui sont parfaitement bien faits, Avec des petites dentelles ; Ce ne sont pas des bagatelles, Car il a fait et bien su tirer La quint-essence du papier. NEW ORLEANS. 37 II a, pour les achalalander, A quelques Seigneurs assure, Que, pour leurs dettes satisfaire, Son projet etait leur affaire Car il voyait auparavant Qu'on ne le sviivait qu'en treniblant. Mais depuis que les grands Seigneurs Se melent d'etre agioteurs On voit avec grande surprise, Gens, vendre jusqu'a leur chemise Pour avoir des soumissions. Les femmes vendent jusqu'a lours liijoux Pour niettre a ce nouveau Perou Passer dans la rue Quincampoix Car c'est dans ces fameux endroi Ou, des Indes la Compagnie fitablit sa friponnerie Cliacun y vient vous demander Voulez vous bien actionnerV" The map of Louisiana was parcelled out ; allotments made to this noble name and to that, to one great financier and to another. Estates upon the Mississippi! What a vista not only of wealth but of seigneurial possibili- ties to the roturier. The Mississippi, in short, was ''boomed," as it would be called to-day ; and its boom reverberated until no imagination, the medium of the boom, could be deaf to it. Colonists were sent out, land settled. The public credit of the system demanded that the movement should not slacken ; that Louisiana should not stand still in the market, tliat it should l)e pushed until the faith which was the germ of the scheme Avas rooted. The rue Quincampoix did not flinch. Ah! 88 NEW ORLEANS. the pitiless mastery of the thirst for gokl has never been more cruelly displayed than in this artificial forc- ing of maturity and maternity upon a virgin country, to keep up the value of stocks! Emigration to Louisi- ana must be kept up, by fair means or by foul. Human beings would — faute de mieux, human beings at least could — be procured in Paris. The orders were given ; so much money per head. There was no time to choose, select, or examine, and no disposition. It was a dog- catcher's work ; and dog-catchers performed it. Streets were scoured at night of their human refuse ; the con- tents of hospitals, refuges, and reformatories Avere bought out wholesale, servant girls were waylaid, chil- dren were kidnapped. Michelet, in one of his matchless pages, writes : "A picture by Watteau, very pretty, very cruel, gives an idea of it. An officer of the gal- leys, with atrocious smirks and smiles, is standing before a young girl. She is not a public girl ; she is a child, or one of those frail creatures who, having suf- fered too much, will always remain in growth a child. She is perfectly incapable of standing the terrible voy- age ; one feels that she will die on it. She shrinks with fear, but without a cry, without a protest, says there is some mistake, begs. The soft look in her eyes pierces our hearts. Her mother, or pretended mother (for the poor little one must be an orphan), is behind her, weeping bitterly. Not without cause ; the mere transportation from Paris is so severe that it drove many to despair. A body of girls arose in revolt from ill treatment at La Rochelle. Armed only with their nails and teeth, they attacked their guards. They wanted to be killed. The barbarians fired on them, wounded a great many, and killed six." NEW ORLEANS, 39 Another Watteau, willi a different instrunienl, lias o^iven his reality of it in the tender perpetuity of romance. Do you remember the opening chapter in " Manon Lescaut " ? " I was surprised on eutering tliis town [Passv] to find all tlie inhabitants in excitement. They were ruslnng out of tliuir houses to run in crowds to tlie door of a mean liosteh-y, before whicli stood two covered carts. ... I stopped a moment to inquire tlie cause of the tumult, but I received little satisfaction from the inquisitive populace, who paid no attention to my questions. At last an archer, with bandolier and musket, coming to the door, T begged him to acquaint me with the cause of the commotion. "'It is nothing, Sir,' he said, 'only a dozen Jilles de joie, that I, with my companions, are conducting to Havre, where we will ship them to America. There are some pretty ones among them, and that is apparently what is exciting tlie curiosity of these good jieasauts.' I would have passed on after this explanation, had I not been arrested by the exclamations of an old woman who was coming out of the tavern, with clasped hands, crying that ' it was a barbarous thing, a thing to strike one with horror and compas- sion.' ' What is the matter,' I asked. ' Ah, Sir,' said she, 'enter and see if the spectacle is not enougli to pierce one's heart.' ( Uiriosity made me alight from my horse. ... \ pushed myself, with some trouble, through the crowd, and in truth what T saw was affecting enough. Among the dozen girls, who were fastened together in sixes, by chains around the middle of the body, there was one whose air and face were so little in conformity with her condition, that in any other circumstances I would have taken her for a person of the first rank. Her sadness, and the soiled state of her linen and clothing, disfigured her so little, that she inspired me with respect and pity. She tried, nevertheless, to turn herself around as much as her chains would permit, to hide her face from the eyes of the spectators. ... I asked, from the chief of the guards, some light on the fate of this beautiful girl. ' We took her out of the hospital,' he said to me, ' by order of the lieu- tenant general of the police. It is not likely that she was shut up there for her good actions. There is a young man who can instruct 40 NEW OB LEANS. yon better than I on the cause of her disgrace. He has followed her from Paris, almost without stopping his tears a moment : he must be her brother or her lover.' I turned to the corner of the room where the young man was sitting. He seemed buried in a pro- found reverie. I have never seen a livelier image of grief . ... 'I trust that I do not disturb you,' I said, seating myself beside him. ' AVill you kindly satisfy the curiosity I have to know who is that beautiful person, who does not seem made for the sad condition in which I see her V He replied politely, that he could not tell who she was, without making himself known, and he had strong reasons for wishing to remain unknown. ' I can tell you, however, what those miserable wretches do not ignore,' continued he, point- ing to the archers, 'that is, that I love her with so violent a passion that T am the luihappiest of men. I have employed every means at Paris to obtain her liberty. Solicitations, intrigues, force, all were in vain : I resolved to follow her, even should she go to the ends of the earth. I shall embark with her. I shall cross over to America. But, what is a jiiece of the last inhumanity, these cowardly rascals,' added he, speaking of the archers, ' do not wish to permit me to approach her. My' plan was to attack them openly several leagues outside of Paris. I joined to myself four men who promised me their help for a considerable pay. The traitors abandoned me, and departed with my money. The impossibility of succeeding by force made me lay down my arms. I proposed to the archers to permit me to follow them, offering to recompense them. The desire of gain made them consent. They wished to be paid every time they gave me the liberty to speak to my mistress. My purse became exhausted in a short while, and now that I am without a cent they have the barbarity to repulse me brutally every time I make a step towards her. Only an instant ago, having dared approach her despite their menaces, they had the insolence to raise their gun-stocks against me. To satisfy their avarice, and to be able to continue the journey on foot, I am obliged to sell here the wretched horse which has hitherto mounted me.' "... Poor Manon ! Poor Chevalier ! Poor playtliings of Youth and Love ! Never has author breathed upon his creatures of romance the breath of such reality, if not NEW ORLEANS. 41 of life. Nay, did they not incorporate, these frail children of Prevost's imagination, Manon and the Chevalier ! They left France phantasies of fiction, hut they seem to have landed bodily in New Orleans, where, as the Chevalier tells Manon, "one must come t(» taste the true sweetness of love ; it is here that one loves without venality, without jealousy, without incon- stancy. Our compatriots come hei'e to seek gold; tluiy would not imagine that we had found here far greater treasures." They seem, as has been said, to have landed in New Orleans in bodily form, for did not tradition long show, in the environs of the city, the grave of Manon Lescaut? Are not relics of her still sold in the bric-a-brac shops here ? Is not the arrival in the colony of a Chevalier des Grieux registered in 1710? Does not he live in history enrolled among tlie officers of the royal troops? And, alas ! does not liis name head the record of a family tomb in one of the old cemeteries of a river parish? And so, out of the hell of lust, passion, and avarice tliat reigned in Paris during the last days of the System there, and out of the tempest of fury, ruin, and disgrace that followed the dehdcle., ship after ship loaded and sailed for the New World and the new life ; and we can imagine the desperate hearts, looking from deck over the grey waste of the ocean, sending out new hopes like doves ahead, in quest of some green sign of the great regeneration. But of returning olive l)ranches, the straining eyes were greeted but by few. On the contrary, dumped, like ballast, upon the arid, glittering sands of Dauphin Island or Biloxi, ill from the voyage, without shelter, without food, without em- ployment, blinded, tortured by the rays of a tropical sun. 42 NEW ORLEANS. fevered and dying of the epidemic from the West Indian Ishxnds ; with piles of brute African slaves rotting on tlie beach before them ; — the emigrants to this worse hell, must have sighed for the hell they had left. It is easy to believe the statement of the colonial records, that most of the unfortunates died in their misery. In the meantime, however, and through it all, we see Bienville busily preoccupied with his city, arguing with the directors of the Company of the West, at the Council Board, to convince them of the superior advan- tages of New Orleans over Biloxi, as capital of the colony; fighting the rival claims of Natchez to that position ; piloting a ship himself through the mouth of the river to prove its navigability ; and, in short, turning every circumstance, with deft agility, to the profit of his project. Taking with him the Sieur Pau- ger, assistant engineer, and a force of convicts and pi- queurs to the site occupied by tlie straggling cabins of his Canadian settlers, he had the land cleared and the streets aligned according to the plan of the engineer in chief to the colony, the Chevalier Le lUond de la Tour. One can, in a morning's walk, go over the square, the vieux carrS, as it is called, laid out by Le Blond de la Tour. The streets, fifty French feet wide, divide the cleared space into the sixty squares now comprised between Esplanade and Canal, Old Levee and Rampart streets ; and their present names were given them, Chartres (below the cathedral), Condd, Royal Bour- bon, Dauphine, Burgundy, and crossing them Bienville, Conti, St. Louis, Toulouse, St. Peter, Orleans, St. Anne (the two saints at the sides of the Cathedral, Orleans at its back), Dumaine and St. Philippe. Ursu- NEW ORLEANS. 43 lines received its niiiue hitcr, from the convent. The barracks, or (juarters of the sohliers, gave its name " (^Luirtier," to the last street below the Place. The central blocks, fronting the river, were reserved for the parish church of St. Louis, with the priest house on its left and guard house and prison on its right. In front, was the Place d'Armes. The govern- ment magazines were on both sides of Dumaine street, between Chartres and the river. The rest of that block opening on the Place d'Armes, was then, as now, used as a market-place. Facing the levee between St. Peter and Toulouse streets, was situated the " Intendance," intendant's house. The house of the Company of the West was on the block above, and on the block above that was the Hotel du Gouvernement, or governor's house, Bienville, however, built a private hotel on his square of ground, which included the site of the custom house of to-day. The powder magazine was placed on what would be now the neutral ground in front of the custom house. A view of the city, taken in 1718, about the time it was founded, for Le Page du Pratz, the historian, shows the levee shaded with trees, with buildings on both sides of the river, those opposite the city being on the plantation of the king, upon which Du Pratz afterwards served as physician. He siiid that the quarters given to the '"• bourgeois "(our lirst citizens) were overflowed three months of the year, lie calls these blocks, therefore, "-Islands; Isles," which is the origin of the Creolism "• Islet " for street or s(]^uare. A map of 1728 shows the buildings indicated on the margin of Pauger's plan, all put up, and the squares from "•Bienville" street to the barracks, and out as 44 NEW ORLEANS. far as Dauphine street, are pretty well filled with houses. The list of the settlers' names made by Paiiger is still printed on the margin of his map. Their houses soon dotted the squares about the central parade and market-place and on the river front, and a thin line of them extended back to the high road, the old portage, and to the bayou that connected with lake Pontchar- train. This little bayou, Tchoupic (Muddy), was christened St. Jean in honour of Bienville's patron saint. Meandering into the city from the lake, with slow, somnolent current, it is still the favourite Avater-way for the leisurely traffic of sailing craft. In the time of the Company of the West, the whole stream of emigra- tion to the Mississippi lands flowed through it : the gaping eye of French peasant and Parisian cockney taking in, despite the lapse of a century and a half, the general features of the same panorama that to-day passes, with their dreams, before the half -closed eyelids of the Dago and Malay fishermen, reclining on the decks of their schooners; — low, rush-covered banks fringing into the water, moss-laden oaks, and the buttressed trunks of slimy cypresses. But the rush-covered banks of to-day extended then into vast swamp prairies, athrill with life, and scintillating with the light and colour of the low-lying heavens. The moss-covered oaks were forests, arching their shades into majestic myster}^ and solemnity; the buttressed trunk of that single cypress, and those straggling clumps of palmettoes, were then a tropical jungle, choking in the coils of its own inbred growth of vines. One single settlement of Indians, the Tchouchoumas, a vestige of the great river tribe, the Houmas, who had NEW ORLEANS. 45 lied here from one of their internecine wars, dwelt then on the banks of the bayovi. That genial hrst historian of I^ouisiana, Le Page du Pratz, who came to the colony in 1718, in the first excited rush after the Louisiana boom, selected liis farm on the Bayou St. John, in the neigli- l)()urho()d of these Indians. It was of them lie bought that incomparable slave of an Indian girl, who, from the twilight moment when she rushed out with an axe to relieve the critical situation of her master, face to face with an intrusive alligator, awakes the interest of the reader, even as she did that of her master, and charms us into credulity, even as she did him through all the years of her services, with her marvellous explanations and stories. In trutli, she might, with some ajjpropri- ateness, be called the muse of Louisiana histor3\ Despite the great mortality at Dauphin Island and IHloxi, the number of emigrants and slaves maintained a steady movement into the colony, and they were not all the nettings of Paris streets. For liis concessions on the Arkansas, Law sent out a shipload of frugal, hardy, thrifty Germans ; incomparable colonial stock tliey proved. Entire plantations also were equipped from the best peasant class of France. Concessions along the (iulf shore were filled in ; and plantations were cleared on the Mississippi above and below the city; and saw mills and brick kilns and other industries were established at points advantageous for woi"k and transportation. As Bienville had designed, and as he laboured. New Orleans became the centre of all colonial activity, and Biloxi became more and more a mere offi- cial bureau. Finally, in 1722, Bienville's repeated argu- ments and representations to the Company of the West [)roduced an effect, and orders were sent to transfer the 46 NEW ORLEANS. seat of government to New Orleans. They were imme- diately carried into effect. In June, De la Tour and Pauger, led tlie way, by sailing a loaded vessel through the mouth of the river. As soon as word was brought to Biloxi tJiat they had passed the bar, other vessels followed with building materials, ammunition, and provisions. Under De la Tour's supervision, the city took form and shape. The church and government houses were built, levees thrown up, ditches made, a great canal dug in the rear for drainage, a cemetery located, the old St. Louis of to-day, back of Rampart street, and a quay constructed, protected with palisades. Bien- ville arrived and took up his residence there in August. But, in the midst of the building and trans- portation, the September storm came on with a hitherto unexampled violence. For five days the hurricane raged furiously from East to West. The cluirch and most of the new edifices were destroyed, and three ships were wrecked in the river. And then, as if to complete the disasters, a fever broke out which devastated the population as the storm had the buildings. The indomitable Bienville himself fell ill, and for a time his life was despaired of. But the momentum once acquired, the city advanced steadily, as over slight obstacles. Tlie prostrate buildings were re-erected, and incoming population filled the vacancies caused by deaths. For still they continued to arrive, those ships loaded with all the human history of France of that day, adventure, tragedy, comedy, lettres de cachet, the Bastile, liouses of correction, the prison, with an occasional special cargo of misfortune. Vol- taire relates that amoncr the German emigrants sent NEW ORLEANS. 47 I)y Law to his concession on the Arkansas, there was a most beautiful woman, of whom the story ran, that she was the wife of the Czarowitz, Alexis Petrowitz. To escape from his brutal treatment, she fled froni lier |)alace and joined the colonists for Louisiana. Here 'V U6v OVl she was seen and recognized by the Chevalier d'Aul)ant, who had known, and, it is said, loved her in St. [Petersburg. She married him, and after a long residence in the colonies accompanied him to Paris and afterwards to the lie de Bourbon. She returned, 48 NEW on LEANS. a widow, to Paris in 1754, and died there in great poverty. It was about this time, 1720, when the Com- pany of the West was still booming its scheme, that occurred the incident which has been so unaccount- ably neglected by the artists of the bouffe drama. The commander of the French fort in the Illinois country had the inspiring idea of impressing his Indian friends with a real sight of French power, and France by a sight of the Indian " au naturel." He therefore induced twelve warriors, and some women, to accompany him on a visit to their great father across the water. Among the women Avas the daughter of the chief of the Illinois, who was young, very beautiful, and in love with the French commander. A sergeant, Dubois, joined the party, and all arrived in New Orleans, where with a great flutter of excite- ment, talk, pow-wow, smoking, feastings, joking, and laughing, and every manifestation of curiosity and fear, and every possible send-off and farewell, they took ship for France, Arrived, they were conducted to Ver- sailles, introduced at court and presented to the king with brilliant success. A deer hunt was gotten up for the warriors at the Bois de Boulogne, a kind of Wild- West show, that entertained the Court im- mensely. Upon the women, and particularly upon the daughter of the chief, were lavished the caresses of the high-born court dames, for whom they in return per- formed Indian dances upon the floor of the Italian opera. In a flash, the Indian belles became the sensa- tion of the day. The chief's daughter, or Princess, as she was called, was converted to Christianity, and baptized with great pomp and ceremony at Notre-Dame ; and, NE]V on LEANS. 49 to perfect her patent as Christian and Parisian, she was forthwith married to Sergeant Dubois, who, to be made fit for so illustrious an alliance, was raised by tlie king to the rank of captain and commandant of tlic Illinois district. The bride received handsonu^ l)rcsents from the ladies of the Court, and from the king Iiiniself ; and for the occasion the entire savage company was clothed in the gala costumes of the day, the s(iuaws in fine petticoats and trains, the warriors in gold endjroidered coats and cocked hats. Very much ehited they were, the savage guests, when they re- embarked for home. They had another grand ovation in New Orleans, at the expense of the Compan}^ and supplied with boats, rowers, and an escort of soldiers, they proceeded in state up the river. Dubois took possession of his new post and dignity, and it is said, fdi' a brief season, enjoyed it. His wife, however, took to visiting her tribe more and more frequently. iVt last, one day, she ]u'l[)ed her [)eoplc surprise the fort. The whole gai-risoii, including Duljois, Avas massacred. She, stri})ping licrself of her tine l)ut cumbersome French dress and religion, gaily returned 50 NEW ORLEANS. to her savage life and companions — her civilization frolic over. Bienville was none too soon in the incorporation of his city. " In 172-1, the political cabal against him in the colony secured his recall. Confident in his record, upon arrival in France he answered the charges against him, with the memoir of the services that had filled liis life, since the time when a mere stripling he had fol- lowed his brother Iberville in quest of the country, for the government of which he was now, a middle- aged man, called to account. He was nevertheless disgraced, deprived of his rank, and his property confiscated. Perier was appointed to succeed him. J. ■..-.. -M..- CHAPTER IV. THE ITRSULINE SISTERS. "TpROM the beginning, the Mobile days of the cohmy, -*- the emigration of women being always meagre, there had been a constant appeal to the mother country for that requisite of colonial settlement, — wives. The Canadians of position, who were married, brought their wives with them to Louisiana, and many of them had grown daughters who naturally became the wives of the young Canadians, also in good position. The French officers, younger sons of noble families, who could only marry their equals, led their life of bachelorhood in gay and frolicsome unconcern, the absence of wives being, it is feared, by them considered a dispensation rather than a deprivation. But for the rough, the crude human material of the colony, the hardy pioneers of the axe and tlie h.atchet, there could be no possibility of domesticity ill tlicir log cabins, unless a paternal government came to their aid. " With wives," wrote Iberville, " I will 51 52 NEW ORLEANS. anchor the roving courenrs de bois into sturdy colo- nists." "Send me wives for my Canadians," wrote Bienville ; " they are running in the woods after Indian girls." "Let us sanction with religion marriage with Indian girls, " wrote the priests, " or send wives of their own kind to the young men." And from time to time the paternal government would respond, and ships would be freighted in France, and sail as in an allegory, to the port of Hymen. Of all the voyages across the ocean, in those days, none so stirs the imagination or the heart of the women to-day. And upon no colonial scene has the musing hour of women been so prolific of fancy as upon the arrival of a girl-freighted shi}) in the matrimonial haven. Dumont, who, like Du Pratz, threw his experiences in the colony into the form of a history, describes the arrival of such a vessel, Init he looked at it with the eyes of the dashing young officer that he was, and not tlirough the illusions that would have made it sensa- tional to a woman. What heart and brain shadowings must have appeared on the faces of these emigrants, in a double sense of the word ; thoughts and plans, fears and hopes, — above all, hopes, for the hopes predominate always oTer the fears of women sailing to the port of Hymen, — even of the most timid, the most ignorant, the most innocent women. And even, too, of the others who came, for tradition says and we know there was more than one Manon deported for the certain good of one country, and possible good of the other ; . . . even these women, whatever sliame and disgrace they may have left behind, their liearts must still have hoped, aspired. Here was indeed a new world for tliem, a new life, a new future, a new chance for immortality. NEW OULEANS. 53 There v/ould be no past here, that is, no tangible past, and so a forgettable past. "When they were landed," Dnniont writes : " they were all lodged in the same liouse, with a sentinel at the door. They were per- mitted to be seen during the day in order that a choice might be made, but as soon as night fell, all access to them was guarded d toufes forces. It was not long before the}' were married and provided for. UrsuVv.'JeQiQvort-. Indeed, their number never agreed with the number of aspirants that presented themselves. The last one left on this occasion became the subject of contest between two young bachehu's who wanted to settle it by a fight, although the Hebe was anything but beautiful, looking much more like a guardsman than a girl. The affair coming to the eai's of the commandant, he made the rivals draw lots for her. 54 NEJV ORLEANS. Once, one of the girls sent out refused to marry, al- though, as Bienville wrote, " many good partis had been offered to her." And thus, also, this girl has been a fruitful theme for idle feminine musings breeding the still more idle longings to know more of her, her name, her reasons, her after life. And in this connection there comes also to the mind a quaint fragment in the voluminous complaints and accusations against Bien- ville, written by his enemies to the home government. It is a letter from the superior of the Grey Sisters, who had been sent out in charge of a cargo of girls ; and she says that the Sieur de Boisbriant, a kinsman of Bienville's, had had the intention of marrying her ; but that M. de Bienville and his brother had pre- vented him ; and she was sure M. de Bienville had not the qualities needful for a governor of Louisiana. In the course of twenty-five years these women created the need of other women. There were chil- dren in the colony now, and wives, home wives, or, as we might say, Creole wives, to be educated for the Creole youths ; there were orphans to be reared, the old and infirm must be cared for; so again recourse was had to the mother country, and an appeal made for women, but not wives, — sisters. And the Company of the West, through the Jesuit father in New Orleans, M. Beaubois, contracted with the Ursulines of Rouen for the establishment of a convent of their order in New Orleans. It is with feelings of the tenderest veneration and pride that the Louisianians tell of the Ursuline sisters. They are the spiritual mothers of the real mothers of Louisiana. It is with intent that their advent in the colony lias been chronicled this way, just after and in NEW OBLEANS. 55 connection with those rnde pioneer efforts lo establish homes and domestic life in a new and still barljarons country ; it seems proper that the mission of nature should serve as introduction to the mission of grace. 'To say that the convent of our good Ursulines of New Orleans is the oldest establishment in the United States for the education of young ladies, that it made the first systematic attempt here to teach Indian and negro girls, that it was founded in 1727 under the auspices of Louis XV., and that the brevet from that monarch is still to be seen among the archives of the convent, — to say this seems to express so little ; it is only the necessary, that skeleton, a historical fact. It is not that way that one begins the story of the Ursulines in Louisiana; one always begins with Madeleine ITachard. ALideleine Ilachard was a young postulant in tlie Ursidine convent of Rouen, who obtained the consent of lier father to accompany the mission to Louisiana. On account of her facility with her pen, and, we are quite sure of it, on account of her constant, hearty, and cheerful amiability, she was selected by the superior, Mother Tranchepain, to act as her secretary and write the reports of the mission to the mother convent in b'rance. lUit while Mother Superior Tranchepain dictated, her mind fixed on her convent and her mis- sion, the young sister Madeleine wrote, her thoughts fixed on her dear father and all her good sisters and brothers in Rouen; and for every letter from the mother superior to her spiritual relations, we have one from Madeleine to her natural ones, — the same letters, with oidy the interpolations of endearments and care- less variations of a mind unconsciously copying. Her good parents in Ivoueii, pleased beyond measure with 56 NEW ORLEANS. their daughter's epistolary talent, and proud of her wondrous experiences, had the letters published imme- diately, for the print bears the date of 1728. Mother Tranchepain's letters were published later, and thus jNIadeleine's innocent plagiarisms were brought to light. The reverend Mothers Trancliepain, Jude, and Bou- langer, chosen respectively for superior, assistant and depository, went to Paris in advance, to sign the con- tract with the gentlemen of the Company of the Indies. They were joined in Paris by Madeleine Hachard, Madame St. Francois Xavier, of the Ursulines of Havre, and Madame Cavelier of Ronen, from the com- munity of Elbffiuf. One cannot forbear the surmise that tins latter belonged to the family of Robert Cavelier de la Salle, and joined the mission through hereditary atlinity for Louisiana. It was on Thursday, the 24th of October, 1726, when Madeleine took the stage from Rouen, that her mission to Louisiana — that is, lier wondrous adventures — l)egan. Nothing f but the fear of garrulity can excuse the churlishness of \ not giving her account of it, — how they arrived in Paris, at four o'clock of the afternoon, at the place where the stage stops, and found the portress of the Ursulines of St. Jacques waiting for them, and that she had been waiting for them ever since nine o'clock in the morning. And how, during their forced stay of a month in Paris, the comforts and interests of the convent life there tempted her almost to feel tempted to accept the invitation of the mother superior of St. Jacques, and give up the mission to Louisiana. But, on the 8th of December, at five o'clock in the morning, the coach for Brittany stopped at the convent door for them, and the sisters took their places in it for Lorient. NEW OIILEANS. 57 Tlu' (■oiisc.iousiKJSs of the eventfulncss of lier journoy tlirills Madeleine tliroiigli every moment of it, and (this was before her official duties had connnenced) her only fear is that she will forget to tell her father some hap- pening of it. It should have been explained that the rev- erend Father Doutreleau and lirother Crucy, Jesuits, who were also going to Louisiana, aecompanied the Ursulines. To commence with, they dined at Versailles and visited the magnificent })alace of the King, and saw so much to glut their curiosity and wonder, that the young novice had a passing thonght that she should shut her eyes to nM)rtify the flesh. The next day's adventure was fur- nished by a good-looking cavalier, who, pursuing the same route as they, proposed to pay for and occupy the vacant seat in 1 1 leir vehicle, in order, as he said, to pass the time u I (> ic agreeably in such pleasant company . II is proposi- lioii was not received with enthusiasm by the agreealjle coiiipany, however, and Father Doutreleau gave him to u u(U' rstand that the ladies ttbserved a three hours' sih'uee every morning and evening. The cavalier replit'd that if the ladies did not wish to talk, lie would entertain himself with Brother Crucy. But, .wlu'U he made himself known as the president of jNIayenne, where their boxes, valises, and packages were to be examined, they all clearly saw that they would have need of him, and not only no more demur was made to his joining the party, but they entertained him so well that, on their arrival at Mayenne, their luggage was put through the customs in a trice. We nuist not forget to say, — as Madeleine did until the end of her letter, — that the six hours of silence announced by the priest Avere not scrupulously observed during the episode, by the ladies. 58 NEW OELEANS. They then passed that dangerous place where, eight days before, the stage from Caen to Paris liad been robbed. And after that, the roads becoming more and more impassable, they had to start long before day and travel late into the night. Once, on the road, at three o'clock in the morning, their coach bogged, before they had gone two miles, and while it was being dragged out by a reinforcement to their twelve liorses of twenty-one oxen, the party walked on. After three miles on foot, they found themselves very cold and tired, but not a house was to be seen to grant them warmth and rest; so they were obliged to sit on the ground, and Father Doutreleau, mounting a convenient elevation, began, like another St. John the Baptist, to preach to them, exhorting them to penitence; but, as Madeleine writes, what they needed was patience, not penitence. Resuming their march, they finally, to their great joy, discovered a little cottage in which there was onJy one poor old woman, in bed, and it was not without many NE]V ORLEANS. 59 prayers and promises that slic all()\\'('(l llieiii to enter. She had neither wood nor candk', and the weary, frozen pilgrims were forced to content themselves with a fire of straw, Ijy the light of Avhich the reverend father read his breviary, while the rest waited for daylight. The stage did not come up with them until ten o'clock; and even then, most of that day's journey was performed on foot. But, in spite of their fatigue, Madeleine says they never left off laughing; amusing adventures con- stantly happening to them. They were mud up to their very ears ; and the funniest part of this was the veils of the two mothers, which were spotted all over by the whitish clay, giving the wearers a most comical appear- ance. And so on: every night a new town, a different tavern, or a different convent to stop in; every day a new page of adventures. During a visit to one of the convents. Father Doutreleau was taken by the superior for a priest of the Oratory, and, as no one corrected the mistake, there was much private merriment over it. Sister Madeleine here remembers that she has again forgotten to give her father an important detail, — that all the way from Paris, Brother Crucy and she have been at war. When they left Paris, his superior had charged her to be Brother Crucy's director, and the superior of the Ursulines at St. Jacques had charged Brother Crucy to be Madeleine's director, — and so they were equipped for many mischievous sallies at one another's expense, contributing not a little to the gen- eral gaiety and amusement. But, to quote Madeleine again, when one travels, one laughs at everything. They remained at the convent in Hennebon until their vessel at Lorient was ready to sail, and here Madeleine took the veil, her novitiate being shortened 60 NEW OULEANS. as a special favour. She signs herself henceforth, " Hachard cle St. Stanislas." Three Ursulines joined the mission here, which raised its number to eight sisters, two postulants, and a ser- vant. The Jesuits were taking with them to Louisiana several mechanics; "as for us, my dear father, do not be scandalized, it is the fashion of the country, we are taking a Moor to serve us, and we are also taking a very pretty little cat that wanted to join the community, sup- posing apparently, in Louisiana as in France, there are rats and mice. . . . Our reverend fathers do not wish us to say 'our,' as you know it is used in the convent, because they say the first thing we know we will hear the sailors making fun of us, with 'our soup,' 'our cup,' and so on. And, as it happens, ever since it has been forbidden us, I cannot prevent myself from using 'our' even to saying '■our nose.' Father Tartarin (one of the Jesuits bound for Louisiana) often says to me, ' My sister, lift up our head.' " At last, "the day, the great day, the longed for day," arrived, when word was sent from Lorient that they must get ready to embark in an hour. The joy of all was inexpressible, but poor Madeleine's grief at leaving her parents breaks out in a sob at the end of her letter. She assures them that the voice of God alone could have separated her from them, and begs them, " in mercj', not to forget their daugliter." Her second letter was dated from New Orleans, and gives an account of the voyage across the ocean. Surely, sailors were never better justified in their superstition of the Jonah luck of priests, and it does seem that Jonah's eventual escape was no more miraculous than that of our band of missionaries. To beofin with the NEW ORLEANS. 61 first iilarm, tlie "' Girondc " struck on the rocks just outside of Lorieut, aud aliuost went to [)ieces forthwith, in the estimation of the frightened passengers. The winds then commenced their malific contrariness, and beat directly against their route and kept the ship pitching so violently, that the sisters not only (H)uld not prevent their food from upsetting at table, but could not prevent themselves from being thrown one against the other. But neither this, nor their sea-sickness, nor their uncomfortable quarters (all six in a cabin, eighteen by six) could destroy their good humour nor arrest their laughter ; and in all the trying experiences, still to be endured, the mother superior never once lost her calmness and courage, nor for a moment regretted the holy mission she bad undertaken. A terrible storm caused the death of most of the live stock, and the fare was reduced from the begin- ning to short rations of rice, beans cooked with suet, as they had no butter, salt meat, and pork so bad til at they could not eat it ; and even this did not, in Madeleine's chronicle, depress their spirits. In fifteen days, they did not make the progress of three, so the water and bread had to be measured out to them. A short stop was made at Madeira, where the supplies were replenished. But, two days after leaving the island, while the wind beat again directly against them, a pirate was sighted ! Immediately preparations were made for a fight. Each man armed himself and took his position ; the cannon were loaded. It was decided that during the engagement the nuns should remain shut up below. The secular women, there were three of them aboard, dressed themselves in men's 62 NEW OELEANS. clothing and pluckily joined the combatants. Pere Tartarin stationed liimself at the stern, Pere Doutrelean at the bow, Brother Crucy on the bridge to pay out ammunition to the men. " All these warriors, armed to the teeth, were admirable in their courage. . . . " As for us, our only arms were the chaplets in our hands. We were not cast down, thanks be to the Lord ! and not one of us showed any weakness. We were charmed to see the courage of our officers and passengers, who, it seemed to us, were going to crush the enemy at the first blow." . . . All the doughty preparations, fortunately, were useless, the suspicious vessel, after much circling and doubling, concluding to retire. . . . And they had a similar alarm after- wards. On Good Friday they crossed the tropic, and the usual burlesque ceremonies were deferred. Instead, there was a devout adoration of the cross, observed by the nuns, walking barefoot, the priests, officers, passengers, and crew. On the feast of the Holy Sacrament there was a pretty procession on deck. As if possessed by a mocking devil, the sea grew more and more violent and threatening, and the sisters had to tie themselves in bed to stay there, and their promised land seemed more inaccessible than ever. It is a surprise that the " Gironde " arrived even at St. Domingo. Here they laid in another supply of provisions, and loaded with a cargo of sugar, the nuns and priests each receiving a present of a barrel. The Gulf of Mexico had its pirates for them also, and to the contrary winds of the Atlantic it added its own contrary currents and deathly tropical calms. Borne out of their course NEW OTiLEANS. 63 they came in siglit of an island which was taken for Danphin Ishmd ; chise upon the mouth of the Missis- sippi. The sisters were all on deck yielding without restraint to their feelings of joy, when all of a sudden the vessel grounded and with such a shock that ^ we took our rosaries and said our ' In manus ' believing that all was over and that our Ursuline establishment would be made then and there." In vain every ma- ncBuvre was tried to move the ship ; she only settled deeper and deeper into the sand. The captain decided to lighten her. The cannon were thrown over, the bal- last ; the luggage was to go next ; the nuns resigning themselves heartily, "in order to endure the greater })overty " — but the sugar was selected as a sacrili(^e, and the whole cargo, even to the barrels given to the nuns and priests, went into the Gulf. Still, the vessel did not budge, and again the luggage was doomed, and again, with the permission of God and the protection of the Holy Virgin, the liquor belonging to the Company was substituted ; and a lot more of ballast found somewhere. Madeleine understood that they were not to go ashore in the island, except in case of dire necessity, because it was inhabited by cannibals, who would not only eat them, but put them through preliminary tortures. The " Gironde," by the help of the rising tide, was linally eased away ; and so proceeded hopefully to its next accident, on another sandbar, against which it beat and thumped so fearfully that there could be absolutely no hope now except in the almightiness of (iod. Even the captain was astonished that the vessel could stand it, saying that nine shi})s out t)f ten would have gone to pieces ; that the " Gironde "' must be made of iron. 64 NEW OB LEANS. Every one fell to praying, no matter where, each one making vows to no matter whom, — " all being in snch a state of confusion and alarm that we could not agree upon any particular saint to recommend ourselves to. . . . Most of us were at the feet of our amiable supe- rior, who represented to us that we ought to have less trouble than the others in suffering death, since before embarking we had made the perfect and entire sacrifice of our life to the Lord. ..." The vessel was again delivered from the jaws of destruction, but all these delays had exhausted the supply of water, which had to be measured out, a pint a day to each person. As the heat was intense, there was great suffering from thirst. Five months to a day after leaving France, the " Gironde " anchored in the harbour of the Belize. The nuns, with their luggage, in two barges, proceeded towards the establishment of the commandant, where they were to remain until boats could be procured from New Orleans for them. But their troubles pursued them still ; the sea was rough, the wind against them, the barges too heavily loaded, and the sailors drunk. The poor women were glad enough to be put ashore at a little half-acre of an island in the mouth of the river, where Madeleine records that in their lives they had never heard men curse so fluently as these sailors did. The commandant sent his own pirogue for them, and this time they reached their resting-place. After a week's waiting, boats arrived from New Or- leans for them, two pirogues and a barge. Tliey were seven days on the river ; and even the intrepid Made- leine confesses that all the fatigues of the " Gironde " were nothing in comparison to those now experienced. NEW ORLEANS. 65 Every day they stopped one lionr before sunset, in order to get to bed before the mosquitoes — 3Iessieurs les Maringouins — and the Frappe d'ahords commenced oper- ations. The oarsmen made their mosquito baires for them, by bending long canes, fixing the ends in the ground over tlieir mattresses, and covering the frame with a linen which they securely tucked in all around. (^Baire is still the Creole, hai' the American, name for a moscpiito netting.) Twice the mattresses were laid in nuul ; and once, a heavy storm breaking out in the night and pouring through their bars, Madeleine declares that they floated. During the day it was barely more comfortable. The pirogues were piled high with freight, upon the top of which the nuns perched in a cramped position, not daring to move for fear of upsetting the boat and going to feed the hsh. Their food was trappers' fare, biscuit and salt meat. Madeleine, writing after it was all over, gives the true traveller's sigh of satisfaction, lunvever : " All these little troul)les are trying at the time, but one is well recom- ])ensed for it in the end by the pleasure one takes in telling of them, each one recounting his own advent- ures. ..." The whole colony was immeasurably surprised to hear of the safe arrival of the nuns, the '•'■ Gironde " being given up long ago for lost. As it was five o'clock in the morning when their boats touched the landing, few people were there to meet them. The convent that was being built by the Company was far from completion, so Bienville's hotel was rented for them. Madeleine describes it to her father : "The finest house in the town; a two-storjMjuilding with an attic, . , . with six doors in the first story. 66 NEW ORLEANS. In all the stories there are large windows, but with no glass ; the frames are closed with very thin linen, which admits as much light as glass. Our town," she con- tinues, " is very handsome, well constructed and regu- larly built, as much as I could judge on the day of our arrival ; for, ever since that day we have remained clois- tered in our dwelling. . . . The streets are large and straight ; . . . the houses well built, with upright joists, filled with mortar between the interstices, and the ex- msu 1 |Ua6( roo^ house ©7 (i)?is^Ttreb St. terior whitewashed with lime. In the interior they are wainscotted. . . . The colonists are very proud of their capital. Suffice it to say that there is a song currently sung here, which emphatically declares that New Orleans is as beautiful as Paris. Beyond that it is impossible to go. . . . The women here are ex- tremely ignorant as to tlie means of securing their salvation, but they are very expert in the art of dis- playing tlieir beauty. There is so much luxury in this town that there is no distinction among the classes so NEW ORLEANS. 67 far as dress goes. The magnilicence of display is equal in all. Most of tliem reduce themselves and their family to the hard lot of living at home on nothing l)ut sagamity, and flaunt abroad in robes of velvet and damask, ornamented with the most costly ribbons. They paint and rouge to hide the ravages of time, and wear on their faces, as embellishment, small black patches." In another letter she finds it impossible to realize that she is in l^ouisiana, there being ^ as much magnifi- cence and politeness " there as in France, and gold and silver stuffs in common wear, although costing tliree limes as much as in the mother country. As for food, she rattles off an astounding list for the good Rouen- nais ears : wild beef, venison, swans, geese, fowls, ducks, sarcelles, pheasants, partridges, cailles, and fish: cat ('an excellent fish'), carp, bass, salmon, be- sides infinite varieties not known in France. For vege- tables and fruits there were wild peas and beans, and rice ; pineapples, watermelons, potatoes, sabotins (a kind of egg-plant), figs, bananas, pecans, pumpkins. . . . They drank chocolate and cafe an lait everyday, and were accustoming themselves wonderfully well to tlie '' native food of the country," bread made of rice or corn and mixed with flour, wild grapes, muscadines or socos^ but principally riz au lait and sagamity; hominy cooked with grease and pieces of meat or fish (the original of the Creole Jamhalaya., in which rice has since been most toothsomely substituted for corn). Tradition asserts that the Ursulines did not long remain in Bienville's hotel, finding it too small. As soon as a sufficient Imilding could be hastily con- structed, they removed to the plantation given them. 68 NEW ORLEANS. whose location is commemorated by those two quaint straggling thoroughfares in the lower part of the city, Nun and Religious streets. The colonists, delighted to be relieved of the expense of sending their daughters to France for an education, soon provided the Ursulines with all the scholars they could attend to. Seeing the young negro and Indian girls grooving up in ignorance and idleness about them, tlie good sisters gathered them into the convent of afternoons, formed them into classes, and taught them their letters, catechism, and sewing. The orphanage was opened, and the care of tlie sick in the hospital immediately taken in hand. And the year following, the governor gave them charge of the List shipment of girls sent by the mother country. This was an inter- esting lot of sixty, who, intended as wives only for young men of established character and means, were of authenticated spotless reputation, having been care- fully selected from good families. They are known as "les lilies a la cassette," from the little trunk or cas- sette, containing a trousseau, given each one by the Company. They stayed in the convent while the young men of character and means availed themselves of the notable opportunity offered. Here and there in the state, tracing up some Creole family, one comes to a "fille a la cassette" ; and it is a tribute to the careful selection of the Company that she seems always found maintaining the recommendation of her good reputatioji and that of her family. Almost at the same time the Natchez massacre sent a boatload of orphans to the asylum. Indeed, as the items and records roll into the convent, and one looks back upon its manifold ministrations, and sees tlie nucleus of good that it was, NE]V ORLEANS. 69 one must conclude tliat one niig-lit as well try to found a city without wives as without sisters. It took seven years for the company to finish the convent. In the meantime, the administrators of the Company of the West had surrendered the Louisiana Charter, and the colony had once more returned into the wardship of the royal government. Pontchartrain immediately reinstated Bienville in his old position of governor. It was he, therefore, who, in July, 1734, formally handed over the new convent to the Ursulines, and installed them therein. We see his fondness for ceremony and state in the account of it : At five o'clock in the afternoon the convent bells rang forth a, merry peal. The colonial troops marched uj) and ranged themselves on each side of the gate. Bienville, with the intendant and a suite of distinguished citizens, arrived to serve as escort. The chapel doors opened and the procession filed out. First came the citizens ; after them the children of the orphanage and day school, followed by forty ladies of the city, all holding lighted tapers and singing hymns. Then came twenty young girls dressed in white, preceding twelve others hi snow white robes and veils, bearing palm branches, repre- senting St. Ursula and her eleven thousand virgins, attended by little girls dressed as angels. The young lady who personated St. Ursula wore a costly robe and mantle, and a crown glittering with diamonds and pearls, from which hung a rich veil ; in her hand she carried a heart pierced with an arrow. Then came the nineteen Ursulines, in their choir mantles and veils, holding lighted candles; after them the clergy bear- ing the sacrament under a rich canopy. liienvillc, the intendant, and the military officers, all with lighted 70 NEIV ORLEANS. candles, walked at the head of the royal troops, which closed the procession, their drums and trumpets blend- ing with the chanting of the nuns and priests ahead of them. As soon as they came in sight of the new building, its bells l)egan a chime of welcome, join- ing in with the fifes, drums, trumpets, and singing. That new convent is the present Archbishopric, — the oldest building in the Mississippi Valley, the oldest conventual structure in the United States. As much h as a building can, it may be said to be indigenous to the soil. Its sturdy walls are of home-made brick, the beams and rafters are rough-hewn cypresses that grew, perhaps, on the very spot where now they support their ecclesiastical burden ; the bolts, bars, nails, hinges, and balustrades are of iron, hand wrought in the government workshops by brute African slaves, as they were then designated. Here Madeleine Hachard lived until 1762, when she NEW ORLEANS. 71 returned to France. For ninety years the gentle sis- ters here pursued their devotional works among the women of the colony, sowing the seeds of education and religion, until, generation after generation passing through their hands, — daughters, grand-daughters, great-grand-daughters, rich and poor, brides for govern- ors and officers, noble and base, bourgeoise and military, — they have become a hereditary force in the colony and state ; and in truth it is not exaggeration to say that there is no Louisiana woman living to-day who, directly or indirectly, is not beholden, for some virtue, charm, or accomplishment, to that devoted band who struggled across the ocean in the '■'• Gironde." Panics of Indian massacres, and slave insurrections, Avars, revolutions and epidemics, have beat about the old convent walls, without power to disturb the sacred vocation within. Through them the sisters heard the shouts of the frantic population huzzaing over their expulsion of hated Ulloa. From their windows they saw his ship pass down the river ; and from the same windows they watched O'Reilly's twenty sail pass up. They saw the banner of France descend from its staff in the Place d'Armes, and the gold and red of Spain Tuifold its domination to the breeze ; and it was in the sanctuary, behind these walls, that on their knees they heard the musket shots, in the barracks yard near by, that despatched the six patriots out of life. They saw the flag of Spain replaced by the Tricolor of tlie French Republic, and the Tricolor by the Stars and Stripes of the American Republic. It must have seemed to them — particularly to that one old sister who lived through it all, to shake hands with Jackson in 1815 — that no government in the community was steadfast 72 NEW OB LEANS. except that of St. Ursula, nothing lasting in life save the mission of wives and sisters. Here, during the never to be forgotten days of 1814-15, they listened to the cannonading from the battlefields below, where a handful of Americans were standing up against the mighty men of valour of Great Britain, and when the day of Chalmette came, with anxious eyes they watched from their dormer windows and l)alconies the smoke rising from the battlefield, the rosary slipping through their fingers, their lips muttering vows, prayers, invocations. All night long they had knelt before their chapel altar, and they liad l)rought and placed over the entrance of their convent their precious image of "Our Lady of Prompt Succour." Twice before she had miraculously rescued them, turn- ing back the flames of conflagration burning the vieux carre bare. And again she heard them, and preserved their entrance inviolate, and saved the little city, so hard pressed by overwhelming numbers. And when Gen- eral Jackson left the Cathedral door after the solemn high mass and thanksgiving for his victory, he failed not to go to the convent, and pay his respects to the sisters, and thank them for their vows and prayers. They then had opened their doors wide and turned their schoolrooms into infirmaries for sick and wounded of both armies, upon whom they were lavishing every care. Every year since, on the 8tli of January, high mass is celebrated and a Te Deum sung for the victory, with a special devotion to "Our Lady of Prompt Succour." This annual devotion, erected into a confraternity of Our Lady of Prompt Succour, has spread throughout the United States, and now, in this year of 1895, the NEW ORLEANS. 73 Sovereign Pontiff has conferred the privilege of solemn coronation npon tht; statue of the divine patroness of New Orleans, a privilege restricted to the most re- nowned sanctuaries alone of Christendom, and the lirst of the kind to take ])lace in the United States. In 1824: the Ursulines removed to their present es- tablishment on the river l)ank, then three miles l)el()W, now well inside, the city limits. Witli its groves of PXnociKer on i'chLi£,V\o)ib fLMce- joncpi'b L octoe pecan trees, its avenues of oaks, its flowers and ])aiins, its cloisters and terraces overlooking the river, its massive, quaint buildings filled with generous dormi- tories and halls, its batten doors opening on broad gal- leries ; its chapel and miraculous statue, its historic past and present activity, its cultivated, sweet-voiced sisters, tlie old Ursuline Convent, as it has come to be talh'd, is still the preferred centre of feminine ediica- 74 iV^ir OBLEANS. tion for Creoles, and a favourite one for all Roman Catholic Americans in the state. The young girls of 1895, in their convent costume, flit through corridor, gallery, cloister, to schoolroom and chapel, or pecan grove and terrace, continuing the study, the prayer, the romps, the aspirations and fancies, of the young girls of 1727, watching with impatience the shadow that travels around the old dial, now as then, and as young girls will do forever — until it measures their meridian of womanhood and freedom, the prime meridian of all times and places, be it in 1727 or 1895, in Ursuline convent or elsewhere for all young girls. In the Archbishopric, the Ursuline Convent has been respected. Nothing is changed in its aspect, interior or exterior, none but the necessary repairs commanded by time, permitted. In the convent cliapel adjoining, behind the archbishop's chair, are enshrined the hearts of several bishops of New Orleans. Wai^i; Bi-^ketfe.. CHAPTER V. ^T^IIE revolt of the Natchez Indians against the *~ tyranny and oppression of the French officers, and their massacre of the garrison and settlement, threw the colony into the hitherto unexperienced troubles of an Indian war. The Indians in the upper Mississippi country became openly hostile, those on the lower banks covertly so. Travel on the river changed, from its old time loitering picnic pleasure to a series of hairbreadth escapes from one amijush after another. Every white settlement in the colony trembled and shook with fear, and each plantation became the centre of secret panic, for, to the horrors of Indian attacks, were added the horror of an African rebellion, and the union of the two barbarous nations against the whites, incomparably their inferiors in number. Planters, with their fami- lies, abandoned their homes and rushed for protection to New Orleans, which itself lived in a continual state of alarm. One day a woman who had taken too much tafia came running in from the Bayou St. John, scream- ing that the Indians were raiding the Bayou, and had massacred all the settlers, men, women, and children, there, and were in full pursuit of her. Drums beat the 75 76 NEW OBLEANS. general alarm, men flew to arms and gathered in the public square, where powder and Ijalls were distributed to them. The women took refuge in the churches and in the vessels anchored in the river. All was wild fear for two hours, when the alarm was found to be ground- less. There seemed to be no alternative for French author- ity, but its assertion by a bloody supremacy. In such assertions the civilized races, inflamed by their fears, are no better than savage ones under the passion for vengeance. Perier liad an easy opportunity at hand, and New Orleans received its first stigma of blood. Just above the city lived an insignificant group of Chouachas Indi- ans, who had endeared themselves to the citizens by their friendly offices of all kinds. Perier, a newcomer and a Frenchman, and in so far, it is hoped, an alien to the sentiments of the community, inaugurated his campaign against the Natchez by killing forever any possible hope the Indians might have had of a confederacy with the negroes. He armed the slaves of the neighbouring plan- tations, and, promising them the reward of freedom, he secured as barbarous an extermination of the unsuspect- ino- red men as the latter could ever have inflicted upon their foes. And soon after, a war party having made a capture of four men and two women of the Natchez, Perier had tliem publicly burned on the levee in front of the city. Soldiers from all parts of the col- ony were summoned to the capital, and an army was sent against the Natchez. They, however, made their escape across the Mississippi, and put themselves out of reach of pursuit. When the reinforcements demanded from France NEW ORLEANS. 77 arrived, Perier, with anotlier iimstering of colonial tro(>[)s, embarked tlieni in barges and pirogues and led them up the Mississippi and through Red Jviver, until he came to the country which held the Natchez strong- hold. But again the savages proved too wily for the white men, the bulk of them making their escape and seeking refuge with the powerful tribe of Chickasaws. l^erier returned with but forty prisoners, whom he sold into slavery in St. Domingo. It was the depressing effect of these Indian troubles tliat had forced the Company of the West to remit its charter to the king ; and it was his old prestige in governing the Indians that gained Bienville his rein- statement as governor of Louisiana. The first efforts of his administration were therefore directed to punish- ing the Chickasaws for receiving the Natchez, and forc- ing them to give up the refugees. His warlike plans turned New Orleans into a camp for seven years. Del- egations of Indians, volunteers, Acadians, hunters from Missouri, eoureurs de bois from all regions, and French soldiers, bombardiers, cannoneers, sappers, miners, such as^ had never been seen in the colony before — swarmed in the streets ; and Perier's embarkation was puny and trifling in comparison to the two expeditions which liicnville led away from the levee in front of the Place d'Armes. But the Canadian seemed to have lost his old cun- ning against the Indians, and he was no commander of French troops. His first expedition met with unmiti- gated disaster, the second with almost as mortifying a failure. He returned to the city with only a humili- ating treaty to show for all the brave preparations. Discouragement sapped from his heart all the old 78 NEW ORLEANS. optimistic nerve that had erstwhile vivified his devo- tion to tlie colony — liis colony, as he had some reason to consider it. Far from his maintaining as of yore his right and his sufficiency to the position of best man for it, in its misfortunes or in its prosperity, he now tendered to the government his resignation. It was accepted, and the Marquis de Vaudreuil was appointed in his place. One of the last acts of Bienville was to found a charity hospital, from a legacy left by a humble sailor in 1739 for that purpose ; it was situated on Rampart street, between St. Louis and Toulouse streets. With Bienville's departure closed the childhood of the city. The old glad pioneer days of the young Canadian government, with its boisterous, irrepressible olftcers, and their frolics and quips and cranks and larking adventures, and irreverent bouts with their spiritual directors, their processions, demonstrations NEW ORLEANS. 79 and ceremonies — it all passed away like a hearty laugh. The Marquis de Vaudreuil brought with him the aristocratic exigencies of his title, the sedate state of the middle-aged, and the cultured polish of conti- nental etiquette. The new influx of French and Swiss olHcers, fresh from the centres of fashion and politeness, more than overmatched, in the estimation of the society of the capital at least, the virile virtues of the first settlers. " Who says officer, says everything," was the growling comment of the old inhabitants. It is needless to say that the women of the city were the first and most enthusiastic converts to the higher stand- ard of the newer and more fascinating gay world ; and after a century of death, tradition through the old ladies of to-day still tells of the grandeur and elegance displayed by the Marquis, — his little Versailles of a hotel, his gracious presence, refined manners, polite speech, l)eautiful balls, with court dress de rigueur, dashing officers, well-uniformed soldiers. Even the old negresses — but they are always the rarest of connoisseurs about the standard of manners for white ladies and gentle- men — have trumpeted, from generation to generation, the Marquis de Vaudreuil as a model to be admired by all, and a test to be applied to individual social suspects. It was during this administration that occurred the episode that inspired Louisiana's first dramatic effort: ''The Indian Father," acted in the governor's mansion in 1753. Afterwards it was put into verse by a French ollicer, Le Blanc de Villeneuve, and was performed at the Orleans theatre. A Colapissa Indian killed a Choc- taw, and fled to New Orleans. The relatives of the Choi'taw came to the city and demanded the murderer. The Marquis de Vaudreuil, after trying in vain to pacify 80 NEW ORLEANS. the Choctaws, ordered the arrest of the Colapissa, but he made his escape. The father of the Colapissa then came to the Choctaws and offered his life in atonement for the crime of his son ; it was accepted. The old man stretched himself instantly on the trunk of a fallen tree, and a Choctaw chief at one stroke cut his head from his body. Dumont relates another incident of the period, which also, it would seem, might find fitting commemoration in verse. The colony was without an executioner, and no white man could be found who was willing to accept the oftice. As every well-regulated government must have an official executioner, it was decided finally l)y the council to force it upon a negro blacksmith re- nowned for his nerve and strength, named Jeannot, belonging to the Company of the Indies. He Avas summoned and told that he was to be appointed execu- tioner and made a free man at the same time. The stalwart black giant started back in anguish and horror. '■' What ! cut off the heads of people who have never done me any harm?" He prayed, he wept; but saw at last that there was no escape for him, that his masters were inflexible. " Very well," he said, rising from his knees, "only wait a moment." He ran to his cabin, seized a hatchet with his left hand, laid his right on a block of wood and cut it off. Returning, without a word he exhibited his bloody stump to the gentlemen of the council. With one cry, it is said, they sprang to his relief, and his freedom was given him. De Vaudreuil being promoted to the governorship of Canada, M. De Kerlerec was appointed to succeed him in Louisiana. De Kerlerec was an officer of the Marine, a gruff. NEW ORLEANS. 81 bluff old salt, who, carrying- on an unceasing "war with his subordinates, organized their enmity against him- self so well that after ten years they succeeded in hav- ing him recalled to France, and promptly lodged in the Bastile on his arrival in Paris. His administration covered the period of the Seven Years' War, when French and English fought hand to hand for the possession of Canada. Although far removed from the seat of hostilities, New Orleans, as a French possession, suffered her share of incidental damages. The Englisli fleet patrolled the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico, over wliich English privateers swarmed, intercepting and capturing the convoys of supplies from France, and completely destroying her commerce ; and France could neither renew the su})- ])lies nor protect her commerce. Curtailed in means, Kerlerec was forced to suspend his yearly tribute of presents to the various important Indian tribes between him and the British possessions. The venal, discontented savages immediately abandoned him and turned to trading and treating with the Eng- lish. Means failed, also, to pay the royal troops ; and the soldiers, disgusted with a service in which there was no money, no food, and no clothing, began also to desert in large numbers to the English. Kerlerec stoutly did what he could to put the colony in the best state of defence possible with his inadequate resources. A ditch was dug and a palisaded embank- ment erected all around the city, the batteries at English Turn were repaired. The main reliance, however, in case of fighting, was not upon the French troops, but upon the Swiss mercenaries, who were stationed in all the important posts. These were held firm amid the 82 NEW ORLEANS. general demoralization and defection of the French soldiery, by a pitiless application of military discipline ; one of the judicial tragedies of the city. A detachment of Swiss was quartered at Ship Island, which was under the command of a Frenchman, Duroux. The island is a mere dot of white sand in the Gulf, a veritable pearl, which at a distance dances and pla3's in the gay blue water. It seems totally inade- quate to the amount of human suffering which has been experienced upon it, in later times as a military prison of most cruel hardships, and then as the scene and opportunity for the brutality of Duroux. The isolated spot was his kingdom, and he used his soldiers as if no one before him had fittingl}^ illustrated the meaning of " tyrant." He sold their rations and gave them for food only what they could gather from the wreckage of the Gulf. Instead of performing their military duties, they were forced to till his garden, cut timber for him, and burn the charcoal and lime out of which he drove a profit- able private trade. His exactions of work would have been considered beyond human endurance, had he not hit upon a form of punishment which experience proved to be clearly so. He simply stripped his criminals naked, and tied them to trees ; and the mosquitoes, those voracious mosquitoes of the Gulf, accomplished the rest. In desperation, some of the soldiers ran away to the capital, carrying their complaints to the governor, and a piece of the bread they were given to eat. Ker- lerec, a naval martinet, sent them immediately back to Ship Island. Then the Swiss took the case in their own hands, and had recourse to the time and world- renowned measures of the over-burdened. One dav, as Duroux's boat neared the strand, after a NEW OIILEANS. 83 hunting expedition, the drums beat the salute, the banner of France was raised, and the guard filed out in arms. But, as the hated commandant put his foot on land, the corporal gave command, and the tyrant fell, pierced, it is safe to say, with a bullet from each musket. His body was thrown into the Gulf. The prisoners, of whom Duroux kept a constant supj)ly in irons, were released ; and one of them, a sea captain, was forced to pilot the rebels to the English possessions. Arrived at a safe distance, they sent him back with a certificate tliat he liad aided them only under compulsion. The party separated ; one band reached the English in safety ; the other was captured, one man stabbing him- self to the heart to avoid arrest. They were sent to New Orleans. A court-martial was held by the officers of the Swiss regiment ; the men were condemned, and, according to their regulations, were nailed alive in their coffins, and sawed in two. The ghastly execution of tlie order took place in the barracks yard. The man ^vho had served as guide was broken on the wheel at the same time and in the same place. An interesting event connects the first clashing of arms in the valley of the Ohio with New Orleans. This was when George Washington, a colonel in the British army, was sent by the governor of Virginia against Fort Duquesne. On the march he heard of a French detachment coming to surprise him. He sur- prised it, and in the engagement, Jumonville, the ensign in command, was killed. Jumonville de Villiers, his brother (ancestor of the New Orleans family) obtained from Kerlerec the permission to go and avenge the death. With a band of soldiers and Indians he hast- ened to the scene of the engagement, and found Wash- 84 NE]V ORLEANS. ington entrenched in Fort Necessity. He attacked liini, and forced the future Father of his Country to surrender to him. Later, there came down the river the boats bearing the garrison and officers of Fort Duquesne, who, after a gaUant resistance, were forced to abandon their post. And hxter, down the great artery of the continent, came from time to time other Ttgiioii Cri'o/e." 'I driftings of the French wreckage going on in the North, — weary, heart-broken bands of Acadian pilgrims. Finally, in 1763, France was forced to sign the Treaty of Paris, which left in England's grasp all of her possessions east of the Mississijjpi, with the ex- ception of the Island of Orleans, as it was called, that irregular fragment of land lying between Manchac or Bayou Iberville and the lakes, which belongs, as natu- ral appanage, to the city of New Orleans. This same year Kerlerec was recalled to France, and M. d'Abadie NEW ORLEANS. . 85 arrived with the diininishod title of director-general, to suit the diminished area of his government. The nulitary force, reduced to three hundred men, was })ut under command of Aubry, senior ranking captain. English vessels were soon a familiar sight sailing up and down the river, to and from tlieir new possessions, above Manchac, from which the French inhabitants moved with their slaves, inside the French lines, many of them to the capital. The Indians loyal to France followed them, occupying lands assigned to them by the government about the city and on the lakes. The increase of wealth and population, and concen- tration of vitality in the city, produced there a sudden revival of activity of all kinds. New houses sprang up to answer the increased demand, new shops and maga- zines were opened along the levee, and coffee houses blossomed out from street corners. Deprived for so long a time of so many of the necessaries of life, the colonists, when occasion at last gratified them, could not content themselves with anything less than the luxuries of it. The English shrewdly profited by this epidemic of extravagance, and took advantage of the crippled condition to which they had reduced French commerce. Many of the vessels going up the river, ostensibly to carry supplies to the English possessions, were in reality floating shops, well supplied with goods of all kinds, and furnished inside with the regulation counters, shelves, and clerks. They stopped at a hail, and soon acquired the trade of the entire French coast, a trade which was all the more thriving as it was illicit. For the convenience of New Orleans customers, these contraband boats used to tie up at a tree on the river bank a short distance above the city. As Manchac was 86 NEW OBLEANS. their first lawful landing-place, this place was wittily dubbed "■ little Manchac," and " going to little Man- chac " was long the current expression in the city for shopping excursions to contraband centres. Now must be told that religious scandal of the time, the war between the Jesuits and Capuchins. For the elements of this famous feud one must go back, if not to the beginning of human nature, at least to the period when the bishop of Quebec, the spiritual head of Loui- siana, appointed a Jesuit as his vicar-general. The Capuchins claimed the territory by right of a contract with the India Company, and therefore opposed the exercise of any spiritual functions by their rivals. In every bout with their burly, physically superior, antagonists, the Jesuits came off victorious. During Kerlerec's administration the campaign had been unusually sharp and brilliant. A new instrument of warfare — an instrument of polite Avarfare — had been imported, the manipulation of which became a furore with the partisan citizens. Epigrams, pasquinades, squibs, lampoons, burlesques, satirical songs, were posted on the corners of every thoroughfare, and the latter were sung in the coffee-houses. There seemed to be no end to the pleasing variety and abundance of the wit displayed by the citizens, who must have enjoyed the occasion as one of real literary culture ; and it may be here mentioned that they became in course of time so addicted to this mode of expressing not only religious, but political and even personal ani- mosities, and became such biting adepts at it, provok- ing such postscripta of duels, that in the end it was forbidden by law. The superior council, although invoked by both NEW ORLEANS. 87 parties, wisely forbore deciding in favonr of eitlicr, as much in fear of the arrogance of the victorious, as of the hostility of the defeated side ; but they patched up a truce, only a seeming, and, as it turned out, an in- sidious one. Father Ililaire de G^novaux, the superior of the Capucliins, although a priest, was by nature a warrior, to whom defeat meant anything but a discipline for the promotion of patience and resignation. He, one day, left his convent and the city and departed for Europe, saying naught to any one of his intentions or purposes. He returned in the same effective manner, but bearing the high-sounding title and office of apos- tolic protonotary, which completely outranked the vicar-general of the bishop of Quebec. The surprise of the Jesuits was complete; so was their wrath, and the quarrel flamed on with more brilliancy than ever. But neither the wit of the partisans of the Jesuits, nor the sharpness of the superior of the Capuchins, brought this memorable campaign to a close. Louisi- ana had to swing with the great pendulum of the mother country. The Jesuits were expelled from Bourbon Europe, they nmst be expelled from Bourbon America. A decree to that effect was sent to New Orleans. It is true that Louisiana owed to the Jesuit fathers an irredeemable debt of gratitude. They had been the first missionaries in the colony, and her constant friends at court and in high places. It was they who had ob- tained the establishment of the Ursulines, and it was they who made the first agricultural experiments ; do- mesticating fruits, vegetables, indigo, and sugar cane in the soil. Nevertheless the decree to expel them was final, and it was enforced. All their property, includ- ing their fine plantation, was sold at auction, and they 88 NEW ORLEANS. were made to leave. The Ursuline sisters were broken hearted at the loss of their friends and directors, and the ladies of the city would not so much as tolerate the idea of a Capuchin confessor, and the exaltation of female jnartyrdom was in the air. Although, in a way, the difficulty had been solved, its settlement seemed further away than ever. ^oneorojMAtfS, pf|:S 53»^^:^*^^''=^* '*Juit|i|i^,l|l_l|(.|,. CHAPTER VI. ^T^lIE dens ex machma of Louisiana had always been -■- the prime minister of France. The Due de Choi- seul now filled that office. Louis XV. neither reigned nor governed ; it was J^a Pomi)adonr who reigned and governed for him. We read of the monarch, sitting like some Dantesque hero of the Inferno, in the secret regions of his gorgeous l)alaces, with the never-ceasing curse upon him of en- deavouring to satisfy the appetite of the monster of his own desires. Not Hogarth himself has better traced foi'us the road to rui]i, the royal road to ruin, than Louis le Men aime. And working thus unceasingly to de- humanize himself, he attracted around him as coun- sellors, servitors, friends, and companions, only those wlio made the process smooth and easy for him. It was not as in the easy-going time of the witty, c-lever, amiable, dissipated Regent, when pleasure and business, scandal and politics, hustled one another in broad daylight, in the talking, laughing, streets of Paris. With Louis XV. it was all dark, mysterious, under- ground ; one fears to advance a finger in any direc- 89 90 NEW ORLEANS. tion, for fear of tuucliing the foul. Wlien an intrepid volunteer, like Michelet, venturing into the secret sewers of court records, returns to tell of it, we shrink from him — he bears evidence of putrid exhumations, and we are nauseated. The prime minister was not so much the Due de Choiseul, as liis sister, Madame de Grammont, the man of business, as she was called, of La Pompadour. She was also called " la doublure," the lining of her brother. Her aml)ition, it seems, was that purely feminine one, of repairing the impoverished fortunes of her family, and in this ambition women can be inflexible, inexor- able, and unscrupulous. The best of the patrimony of the De Choiseuls, was, it is said, their capacity for treason, and of the due Michelet writes: "He did not go to war, il Jit la chasse aux femmes.'''' The same authority, from the intimacy of his knowledge of this period, describes the De Choiseul he knew : " A little bull-dog face he had, ugly, audacious, impertinent, with a mocking tongue, a deadly weapon feared by the brav- est . . . vivacious, brilliant, keen, penetrating, believing nothing, fearing nothing, an easy moralist, an uncer- tain ally, a hater of priests, light minded, inconstant. First, he worried La Pompadour, then he charmed her, then gave himself to her." ''You will be dannied, Choiseul," once said the king to him with a smile. "And you, sire?" "I, oh, I am different; I am the anointed of God." It was a ghastly prologue to our own little Louisiana tragedy as we read it now, that played by the king, the favourite, and the prime minister, with his shadowy controller-general Silhouette. Morally, for France there was but one proportionate drama to follow, the NEW OH LEANS. 91 Revolution. Politii'ally, there was hut one thing for France to lose, "• simply the worhl,"" as Michelet says. From truckling to Austria, Clioisiuil turned to truck- ling to Spain, and he created and put into shape his famous Facte de Famille in ITOl, which federated the blood of the IJourbon, and united into a cond)ine(l trust the thrones of France, Spain, 'J'urin, Nai)les, and Sicily. Thence the international war ui)on the .)(!suits, and thence the transfer of Louisiana to Spain by a secret clause in the Treaty of Paris. The clause remained a secret until October, 17G4, when J\l. (TAbadie received ofHcial notice of it, with the copies of the acts of dona- tion and acceptance, and instructions to hand the col- ony over to the envoy of the king of Spain, who was to arrive. Upon pid)lication of the fact in the city, the iidiabitants were transfixed with consternation. This was an old world and a middle-age eventuality, the giving away of a country, with its ])eople, to a for- eign master, as a planter might hand over his land and slaves to a purchaser — that had never occurred to the Louisianians. 'J'hey had no need of recourse to tradi- tion to animate their feelings. Men were still alive among them who had taken possession of the country in its wihl state of nature, who had founded it, estab- lished it, and held it firm to France, with but little help or encouragement, too, from the mother country, against Ijoth Englishman and Spaniard. Nay more, they had dominated the (lulf of Mexico itself, and had France but held out a finger to them, even surrepti- tiously, they were prepared to prove at any dinner-table or coffee-liouse in the city, that Iberville and Bienville, Chateauguay, De Serigny, and themselves, could have 92 NEW ORLEANS. solidified Central America, and the islands of the Carib- bean Sea, into an indestructible French power. Rude fighters themselves, and accustomed to rude stakes, they could have understood the cession to Eiigland — that would have been according to the fortunes of war. England had ^vllipped in tlie contest for supremacy, QurtN^^A and Frenchmen of Louisiana, as Avell as Frenchmen of Canada, must stand to the terms of defeat. Ikit to be tossed without the asking, from Louis XV. to Carlos IIL, to l)e made over, in secret bargain, to the Sj^an- iards, — to the not so much hated as des})ised Spaniard, who had never ventiured a IjIow or fired a shot for them. NEW ORLEANS. 93 whom tliey had overinatchcd Avitli halt" tlieir wits aiul lialf their strength, in every contest ! That was a fate that no Louisianian was craven enough to be n;signed to ! Cities act like individuals in a crisis. Stupor fol- lowed the shock in New Orleans, and excitement Followed the stupor, mounting quickly into temper, fury. The streets hummed and throbbed with it. The cabarets exploded with indignant denunciatory ehxpicnce. The king could not mean it! 'J'he king did not know what he was doing ! He was ignora-nt of the true facts of the case ! He had no idea of Louisi- ana or the Louisianians ! He must be informed, expos- tulated with, petitioned. The citizens, the colonists, nmst speak ; they must express their sentiments, the will of the people must be evoked! The will of the [)(M)ple ! The word was out, and the idea ! The word and tlie idea that were to be made flesh a decade hence in tlu^ revolted American colonies. .\ convention was called to meet in New Orleans, and each j)arish in the state was requested to send delegates. 10\ei'y parish res[)onded with its best and most notable; the city did likewise. A large and impressive asseud)ly met. It was opened by Lafr^nicre, the attorney -gen- eral, than whom no man could with better credentials represent the colony in spirit and in letter. His father was one of four (^inadian brothers, pioneers under Iberville and Bienville, who had distinguished tliem- selves in every field of danger and enterprise offered ])y the rough times and rough country. Crumbling parch- ments of marriage contracts and land sales show them to have aecpiired wealth and honours and to have foi'med alliances witli the families of what, in feudal times, \v«)uld have been called Louisiana's nobility. The 94 NEW OBLEAJSfS. attorney-general was a man of winning address and fiery eloquence, in character and acquirements one of the best growths of Louisiana from Canadian seed. He opened the convention with a strong, stirring speech, proposing the resolution that the colonists, en masse^ supplicate the king of France not to sever tliem from their country. It passed unanimously. A delegation of three citizens, Jean Milhet at the head, was appointed to carry it to France and lay it at the foot of the throne. They left by the first vessel. Arrived in Paris, the delegation sought out I^ien- ville, the old father Bienville, for he was still living in Paris, an octogenarian now, with long white hair. One has only imagination to supply the details of the inter- view, the questions, explanations, reading of the petition, names ; what the LoLiisianians had to say of Louisiana, Bienville of France, Paris. Louisiana was so much more the country of the white-haired patriarch, than of the king or the duke, or of any man or woman in France. Surely he would be received, listened to. He consented to accompany Milhet to the Due de Choiseul. Their primitive idea was to throw them- selves on their knees before the king and present the petition, which reads to-day more like the passionate appeal of a lover to his mistress. And they would add their voices in supplication not to be cast off ; they them- selves would implore from their sovereign the proud satisfaction for the Louisianians, of being able to die as they had lived. Frenchmen, not Spaniards. It would indeed have been a scene and an interview worth record- ing. For the picturesqueness of history it is a pity that it did not take place. De Choiseul listened with perfect politeness, promised tlie interview with the NE]V on LEANS. 95 king, promised his influence ; promised everything, like a modern politician, and — never kept his word. It was not that he paid his rt)yal master the compliment of su})})osing that this white-haired pioneer, the son and hrother of the best pioneers France conld make out of her flesh and blood — that these new specimens, these l^^renchmen from the new world, could stir a memory of Ijouisiana, or arouse a patriotic thrill in that enfeebled, exhausted, diseased heart. But the Facte de Famille was De Choiseurs own master-stroke of jjolic}^ the cession of Louisiana his own paraph on the margin of it. The delegation came again and again, always meet- ing politeness and promises. The others returned to the colony, leaving Milhet in Paris. He, after a year (tf eftort, deceived, thwarted, betrayed in every verbal way by tlie brilliant ])rimc minister — he also returned home Avith the incredible report that he had not been able to see the king, had not presented the petition. In the meantime, in New Orleans, d'Abadie had died and Aubry was put in command for the short interval before cession to S})ain. But no Spanish envoy pre- sented himself. With their delegation and petition at work at court, the optimistic citizens reacted from the excitement of dejection and despair, to buoyancy of spirits. When, at the landing-place in front of the Place d'Armes, a boat load of gaunt, haggard Acadians arrived, and told their story, how their country had l)een ceded away, their churches, their allegiance, how the)' had tried to live under foi'cign masters, but at last, under exactions and suspicions, and despair of all kinds, they had been forcibly ejected from theii" fields and homes, the citizens, overflowing witli hospitality, generosity, and sympathy, drew no warning from it, 96 Ni:yV ORLEANS. l)ut rather encouragement of their own sense of secur- ity and self-sufticiency. So ill-prepared were they, tliat like a thunder clap in a cloudless heaven, came an official letter in July, 17G6, announcing that the Span- ish envoy, Don Antonio de UUoa, was on his way to take possession of the colony. There was another cata- clysm of excitement ; but as the envoy did not make his S^tVe^enclp (§u6.rter. appearance, and Milhet did not return, the minds and hearts of all again rebounded to hope and courage. In February Ulloa arrived at the Balise in a frigate of twenty cannon, with two companies of Spanish infantry, three Spanish Capuchins, and the personnel of his administration, a commissary of war, Loyola; an intendant, Navarro ; and a comptroller, Gayarrt'. He reached the city in March. An ominous storm NEW on LEANS. 97 of wind and rain was rai^'ing. Anbiy did what lie could in the way of a reception. The nulitia and regular troops were drawn up on the levee, the cannon fired a salute, and there was, stimulated by Aubry, a faint attempt at acclamation. But the citizens stood in groups to one side, siU'nt, sullen, and cold as {\k\ rain ])i)uring over them. In ap[)earance the Spanish envoy was middle-aged, grave, haughty, severe, and })ctriru'd in Spanish eti- quette and ceremony. He was no inconsiderable p(!r- sonage, but a man of repute, both in the military and scientific worlds, and was just tlicn rclurncd fi'om an expedition in which he had formed one of a comnussion to deternune the configuration of the earth at the e(|ua- tor. He seems to have approached Louisiana in the same cool, calm, critical spirit of scicntilit^ investigation, and he was about as much prepared to hear that the equator had risen up and protested against the results of his commission, as to lind that other purely theo- retical factor, the will of the people of Louisiana, in opposition to his presence and functions. He expected the country to change its flag and allegiance, the sol- diers their service, the people their nationality, as a thing of the most commonplace of coui-se. The superior council of the colony requested him to show his powers and authorities. He refused curtly, and sent for Aubry to confer with him. When he learned that the French soldiers refused to enter the Spanish service, lie agreed that the formality of taking posses- sion shouhl l)e deferred until more Spanish troops were sent to him, (]uartering his own force in separate barracks, apart and distiiu^t fiom Aul)ry\s. Hut, as if that formality had been (hdy and legally observed, 98 NEW ORLEANS. he proceeded to the clerical work of his office, taking the census, issuing new rules and regulations, and rendering decrees of trade and commerce. The exist- ence of the civil authorities was ignored, and Aubrj^ was made the official mouthpiece of the envoy and organ of communication with the people. The various mili- tary posts were visited, new ones established, the French flag being informally replaced by the Spanisli. In New Orleans, however, the French colours floated as ever, and the externals, at least, of French domination were not infringed. The inhabitants of the country parishes chafed and fumed. The citizens of New Orleans seethed and boiled. If no opportunity offered, they must inevita- bly have created one, for the expression of their feel- ings. But the opportunity was offered by UUoa. Apart from patriotic sentiments, what the people of Louisiana most feared from Spain, was the imposition of those narrow-minded trade regulations, framed for the Spanish colonies, which would ruin their commerce and port as they liad ruined all the commerce and every port in the Spanish possessions. Ulloa issued a decree which in this respect realized their worst fears. The merchants in a body presented a petition to the superior council, praying for a suspension of the decree until they could be heard upon it. The signatures attached to the petition represented the most influential names in the colony. To-day they still distinguish the elite of Creole families. The memorial was forwarded to Ulloa, who, in an official report, expressed his opinion of it as : "A kind of manifesto, of people who pretend to nothing less than to make terms with their own sovereign, and whose NEW Oli LEANS. 99 expressions, far from being supplicating and respect- ful, take on the imperious and insolent tone of a menace." Paying no heed to it, he proceeded in September to the Balise, to await the coming of his affianced bride, the Marquise d'Abrado, one of the rich- est heiresses of Peru, and, according to report, beauti- ful even beyond tlie usual fortune of heiresses. She kept him waiting seven months, and for that time the lialise became the centre of government, Aubry mak- ing periodical visits to it. Duruig one of these he signed a secret act putting Ulloa in possession of the colony, and authorizing liim to substitute the Spanish Hag for the French whenever he wished. Relieved from the hated presence of the Spaniard, the citizens had a breathing spell, and strange to say, began to -hope again that the mother country had re- considered her act or would do so. Ulloa returned with liis bride, married to him by private ceremony at the Balise. There had been some social expectations entertained from the advent of the Marquise in the city. She, however, immured herself in her hotel, associated oid\- with her own attendants, repulsed all advances from society, slninned the Creole ladies publicly, ignored them privately, and would not even worship in a common church with tliem, attending mass only in her private chapel. In short, she proved herself, in her treatment of the ladies of the place, only too apt an imitator of her husband's hauteur and arrogance with the men, and so added the last straw to the burden of the intolerable. Milhet arrived at last ! He gave an account of his humiliating failure. Popular disappointment and cha- grin flamed into a fury of passion, which swept discre- tion and judgment before it. There was to be heard 100 NEW ORLEANS. in the streets nothing bnt loud voicings of the hatred of Spain and the loathing of the yoke about to be put upon them. Calm was completely destroyed from one end of the colony to the other ; the wildest excitement pre- vailed, meetings were held everywhere, in which heated addresses inflamed still more the violence of feeling. As in every otlier revolution, a woman furnishes the nucleus of action. In tlie upper outskirts of the city about where Common and Carondelet streets cross to-day, was the elegant villa and spacious gardens of Madame Pradel, a widow, beautiful, rich, and intellectual. She was attached, it was whispered, in a secret love to Foucaut, the royal commissary, one of the most ardent of the revolutionists. The establishment had all the privacy of isolation and seclusion, and was a most charming gathering spot for the leaders of the people, Lafreniere, tlie two Noyaus, De Villere, Masan, Marquis, Foucaut, and others. After a luxurious supper, tliey would leave their hostess and retire to the garden, and there, in the fragrant obscurity of the magnolia groves, discuss the situation, and prepare, point by point, the policy to be adopted. Their first move was to invite the country again to send delegates to another grand meeting to be held in the capital. This second assembly was in all respects the same as th« first. As before, Lafreniere took the lead, or had it assigned to him. He made a speech with his charac- teristic power and eloquence, and was ably seconded by the delegate Milhet and Ins brother, and by Doucet, a young lawyer recently arrived from France. The pro- ceedings culminated in an address to the su})erior coun- cil calling upon it to declare Ulloa an usurper for having exercised authority without exhibiting liis powers to ex. NEW OBLEANS. 103 the superior council, rei^istering" them, or otherwise promulgating them in a pul)lic manner, and, as such, ordering him out of tlie colony. The paper was signed by over five hundred names. It was printed by the public printer, on the order of Foucaut, and distributed throughout the parishes. The superior council took it under consideration, and ended in rendering the de- .crce prayed for, ordering Ulloa to produce his authori- ties before the civil tribunal of the colony, or to take his departure from it, within a month. To such a man, and to such a dignitary, there was no alternative ; he prepared for the immediate departure of himself and household. Aubry, wliose ideas of independence lay strictly within the limits of military subordination, did what lie could at lirst to prevent, then to mitigate, what he ct)nsidered an outrageous breach of discipline. He expostulated with the citizens, enlightened them about the inviolate majesty of kings, warned them of retrib- utive consequences. In vain. The citizens would not, or could not, understand him. To all of his rep- resentations they had a legal answer, and they stood lirm in their position, their feet planted on their incon- testable theory of the supremacy in the colony of the civil tribunal. Aubry then did what he could to throw a semblance of dignity around the expulsion. At the head of his soldiers he escorted Ulloa and his house- liold to the levee, saluted his embarkation, and stationed sentries to guard his ship. That night there was a wedding feast in one of the wealthiest houses of the city. Banqueting and dancing had Idled the hours and prolonged the revels, and day was about to break before the last of the guests stepped 104 NEW OIlLEAJSrS. into the street ; a noisy band of merry youths; — froliclv- ing, singing, laughing, as they passed along by the silent houses. They came to the levee. In the silver light of dawn, the river lay veiled in mist, out of which, grim and ugly and forbidding, arose the frigate con- taining the Spaniard and his people. " See," cried one, "the morning star ! It heralds the last day of the Spaniard's rule." The band stopped and looked. The temptation was irresistible to young mad- heads. The cables of the frigate were stealthily cut. After one thrilling moment, the great bulk began to move, yield to the current, which, as if tlie Mississippi too were French and factional, stronger and stronger urged its way, until it bore the vessel out to midstream, and started it triumphantly down the river. Then the watching crowd threw caps in air, and broke into wild huzzas. The victory seemed brilliant, tlie jo}' of it Avas radiant. Still acting in their representative character, the committee of citizens who had addressed the council published a manifesto to their constituents, giving the account of what they had done. It was scattered broad- cast throughout the colony. A copy of it and of all the proceedings and addresses, with an explanatory and pro- })itiatory letter from Aubry, was sent by special despatch to France, to the Prime Minister. Ulloa also received a copy, which he enclosed to his government with his report of the rebellion, as he called it. He named the " conspirators : " Lafreniere, Foucaut, the two Noyaus, the two Milhets, and Villerd, summing them up con- temptuously enough as " most of them children of Can- adians Avho had come to Louisiana, axe on shoulder, to make their living by the work of their hands ; " and he NE]]' OULEANS. 105 mentions Madame Pradel's vilhi as tlic place of tlieir meeting and considtation, with the gossip ot Foiicant's love for her. A momentary calm, like the still i)anse between the blasts of a hurricane, fell over Louisiana and the Ijoui- sianians while awaiting a response from France. Surely the king would now reconsider ! They had i)roved their mettle, shown that they would not, (!Ould not, pass under S[)anish rule. 1 hey had committed no vio- lence, but in an orderly, legal manner expelled the intruder, keeping among them, for the better regula- tion of the financial accounts between the two nations. l-^-- the three Spanish officials, Gayarr ', Loyola, and Navarro. France, at any rate, could not but stand by her sons. But there was some uneertainty in their hope, and some uneasiness in their calm. There was much pi'ivate discussion and prognostication, and the leaders must have had nuu'c and more frequent deliberations in the gar- dens of jNLidame Pradel. It was in that place and in that emergency of doubt and anxiety, that they consid- ered the proposition of defying both European powers, and erecting Louisiana into a i-epresentative govern- ment of the people, after the manner of the Swiss lepublic. One of the De Noyaus, lUenville's namesake 106 NEW ORLEANS. it was, Noyan de Bienville lie was called, undertook a secret mission to Pensacola, to sound the British min- ister there on the attitude he would assume in such an eventuality. A British governor, however, at that period, was the last one in the world from whom encouragement might be expected l)y revolting colo- nies. He not only roljuffed the re})ublican missionary, but hastened to transnut the confidence to Spain. The republican idea once launched, however, gained sucli headway in the city and country, that the monarchists became alarmed and an elal)orate memorial was printed, combating any such change of government. CHAPTER VII. /^N tlio iiiorning- of July 24tli, 1769, a private messcn- ^-^ *j;cr caiiie post haste from the Balise, announcing' tlie arrival (hereof a great armament under the com- maiul of C'ount O'Reilly, lieutenant-general of the armies of Spain. The midnight following, a Spanish ofHcer, Don Francisco Bouligny, landed, bringing from ('ount O'Reilly the official announcement that he was coming up the river to take possession of the colony for Spain. Tlieri^ was no further doubt about the matter now. Nothing was to be expected from France. She had abandoned the colony without advice or warning, to the puiiisliiiu'iit of Spain, 'i'he will of the people, conven- tions, speeches, memorials, manifestoes, plans, considra- cies, theories of government, ... it all lifted like a mountain mist from the minds of the revolutionists, and left them staring at the ban; reality, — a defence- less city of three thousand iidiabitants, called to account by S[)ain, — -Spain, the pitiless avenger of her majesty! J^afrdniere, with his partisans, hastened to Aubry. After a hurried consultation, it was decided that a dep- utation of them should go to O'Reilly and personally make the best explanation possible of the expulsion of rUoa. As there had been no l)lo()(l shed, it seemed to 107 108 NEW OllLEANS. Aiibry that a prompt apology and subjection would be accepted as a settlement of the matter. Lafreniere, Milhet, and Marquis accompanied the Spanish officer down the river, and by him were presented to O'Reilly who received them courteously. Lafreniere, as spokes- man, boldly charged UUoa with the blame of what had occurred, for not having presented his credentials, and not taking official possession of the colony before exer- cising autliority in it. He stated that he now appeared as a representative from the Louisianians, bearing their professions of respect for the king of Spain, and their submission to him. O'Reilly responded kindly, and in general terms. The word ''sedition" passing his lips. Marquis inter- rupted him: ''That word," he said, "is not applicable to the colonists." O'Reilly kept the Creoles to dinner with him, and sent them away full of hope as to the past. Aubry, at midday, assembled the panic-stricken citi- zens in the Place d'Armes, and tranquilized their fears by an address, counseling prompt suljmission to tlie new authority. He also sent messages throughout the parishes, warning the colonists there against excitement or action. Tlie report made by the deputation of their interview with O'Reilly, was calming, and the city, after forty-eight hours of extreme agitation, sank the follow- ing night into the much-needed repose of sleep. The dawn of the 18tli August revealed the S|)anish fleet at anchor, in front of the city, the frigate bearing O'Reilly surrounded by twenty-three other vessels. At noon the drums beat the general alarm, and the troops royal and the militia marched from their l)arracks to the Place d'Armes, and formed facing the river. NEW ORLEANS. 109 Count O'Reilly, in all the pomp of representative majesty, heralded by music, preceded by silver maces, and followed by a glittering staff, descended the gang- way from his ship to tlie levee, and, advancing to Aubry, l)resented his credentials from the king of Spain and his orders to receive the colony. Three thousand Span- ish soldiers fded after him from the other vessels to the levee, and formed on the three sides of the Place. The credentials and powers were read aloud to the citizens assembled, an anxious, nervous crowd. Aubry, after a proclamation releasing the colonists from their alle- giance to France, presented the keys of the city to O'Reilly. The French flag was lowered, the Spanish raised ; the Spanish vessels saluted Avith their guns, the soldiers fired off their muskets and shouted " Viva el Rey I " The French guards were relieved by Spanish guards. The Spanish and French ollicers then in pro- cession crossed the open space to the Cathedral, where a Te Deum was celebrated. The ceremonies terminated with a grand parade of the Spanish troops, whose stern bearing, rigid discipline, and glittering equipments awed the crowds on the banquettes of the streets through which they passed. O'Reilly installed himself in one of the handsomest houses of the place, and maintained his viceregal assumptions. Seated on an elevated canopied chair of state, he gave audiences, held receptions, and received what he regarded as the submission of the people. The old half tender patriarchal pomposity of I)e Vaudreuil was rude and savage in comparison. Acting upon the hint of Aubry to pay their respects promptly, the colo- nists flocked in numbers to the receptions, accompanied by their wives and daughters, who, with the responsi- 110 JSTEW OELEANS. bility and secret apprehensions upon them for their husbands and brothers, hxvished, with the feminine prodigality of such emergencies, personal charms, taste in dress, witchery of manners — everything to throw the seductive glamour of a social function over the grimness of a military ceremony. Count O'Reilly maintained a graciousness of demean- our that surpassed even the most sanguine expectations. He had, however, on the day of his arrival, privately written to Aubry, demanding entire information, with all pertaining documents, respecting the expulsion of Ulloa ; and the French captain, cringing with instinc- tive soldierly subjection, under the whip-hand of military authority, was fiinnshing all, and more than the Span- ish general required, to justify the predetermination with which lie sailed from Havana. The " chiefs of tlie crimi- nal enterprise," as Aubry designated it, were the richest and most distinguished men of the city, — Lafr^niere, Attorney-General Masan Chevalier of St. Louis, Mar- quis, retired commandant of Swiss troops Noyan, retired captain of cavalry, Bienville, brother of Noj^an and son- in-law of Lafreniere, ensign of marine, Villere, brother- in-law of Lafreniere, captain of the militia of the C6te des Allemands. The lawyer Doucet was named as the author of the manifesto. Aubry made some attenqjt to exculpate Foucaut. On the 21st of August a grand levee was held in the viceregal hotel. All the above-named gentlemen pre- senting themselves by invitation, were received with more than usual courtesy by O'Reilly, who suavely invited them to follow him into an adjoining room. It was filled with Spanish bayonets. Throwing off his mask, O'Reilly tlien denounced his Creole guests as NEW ORLEANS. Ill rebels and conspirators against the king of Spain, and ordered the guards to march them to the various phices of imprisonment he liad selected for them. Caresse, joint author with Lafreniere of the address to the council, the two Milhets, Petit, who had participated in word and deed with the revolutionists, Poupet, the Old Q&.tew«.y ^IY\Q_. treasurer of the conspiracy, Hardy de Boisblanc, one of tlie council who commanded the departure of UUoa, and l)raud, the royal printer, who had printed the various documents, were also arrested and lodged in prison. Villere, at the time of O'Reilly's arrival, was on his 112 NEW ORLEANS. plantation at the Cote des Allemands. His first impulse was to throw himself under the protection of the British flag, at Manchac, but a letter from Aubry quieted his apprehensions and advised him, on the contrary, to come to New Orleans. As flight seemed a confession of guilt, this course was more acceptable to Villere, and he set out at once for the city. At the Tchoupitoulas gate he was arrested by the Spanish guard and carried aboard the Span- ish frigate lying in the river. Madame Viller^, a daughter of the Chevalier d'Arensbourg, hearing of her husband's arrest, hastened with all speed after him, and taking a skiff, had herself rowed out to the frigate. She was ordered away by the sentinels. Villere, confined below, hearing the supplicating voice of his wife, and fearing some insult, attempted to rush past his guard and get on deck. He fell, transfixed with a bayonet. It is a tradition that to convince the wife of her husband's death, his garment, wet with blood, was thrown into her skiff, while a sailor cut the rope that held it to the frigate. O'Reilly's assessors conducted the trial in a room of the barracks. Foucaut's plea that as a royal oflicer of France he was accountable only to her laws, was allowed. The charge against Brand, the royal printer, was also similarly remitted. The other prisoners attempted no defence. Tliey denied the jurisdiction of the tribunal before which they were arraigned, and protested that tlie offences with which tliey were charged were committed while the flag of France was waving over them. The trial being conducted to a close, satisfactory to the judgment at least of O'Reilly, he, on the 24th day of October, NEW OliLEANS. 113 rendered tJie sentence in the presence of three of his lieutenants, officiating- as witnesses. Lafr^niere, Milhet, and Marquis (his guests at the Balise), Noyan de Bien- ville, and Caresse were condemned to be conducted to the place of execution on asses with ropes around their necks, to be hanged, and their bodies to remain hanging until otherwise ordered ; Petit was to be imprisoned for life ; Masan and Doucet for twelve years ; Hardy de Boisblanc, Poupet, and Jean Milhet, for six. The property of all was confiscated to the crown. Viller{i, being dead, was represented at the trial by an " avocat a sa memoire " — and his memory, all that was left to Spanish jurisdiction, was, in conformity to his sentence, condemned to perpetual infamy. The A\hoIe city, men and women of every rank and class, threw themselves before O'Keill}', in an appeal for at least a suspension of the sentence until royal clem- ency could be invoked. He was inexorable. On the representation of the Spanish assessors that there was no executioner but a negro Avho was disqualified from officiating upon whites ; the sentence was modified to shooting, with the stipulation, however, that it was to retain the infamy of hanging. For a similar reason, per- hai)s, the clause about the asses w^as ignored. The sen- tence was carried into effect the next day, 25th October, 17G0, in the barracks yard. The only eye-witnesses were the Spanish soldiers, officers, interpreters, and the sheriff, whose official account furnishes the only description we have of it. He testifies that at three o'clock of the afternoon the prisoners were taken from their place of confinement in the quarters of the regiment of Lisbon, and, tied by the arms, were conducted under a good and sure guard of officers and grenadiers to the place of 114 NEW OliLEANS. execution, where a large body of troops stood formed in a hollow square ; the sentence was read to them in French and English ; they were then put in position, and fired upon. It was said that Noyau de Bienville, young, handsome, and but recently married to a daugh- ter of Lafreniere, awoke enough compassion in O'Reilly to be offered his life, on condition that he would abandon his companions ; he refused. Lafreniere, firm and heroic to the end, exhorted his son-in-law to send the scarf he wore to his young wife, that she might pre- serve it and give it to his son when he became a man. All protested against being tied to the stakes. Lafre- niere gave the command to fire. From daylight, guards had been doubled at every gate and station in the city. The troops were kept in the public places and along the levee under arms and pre- pared for action. Those of the citizens who could, fled in horror and anguish to the country. The rest remained inside closed doors and windows. All signs and sounds of life were suppressed. The explosion of musketry that announced the end reverberated as through a death chamber. It was the blackest day the city had ever known. It is still a day that lies under a pall in mem- ory. No historian with French blood can review it unmoved. Martin breaks through his studied calm and impartiality, after his account of it, with : " Pos- terity, the judge of men in power, will doom this act to public execration. No necessity demanded it, no policy justified it," and De Vergennes, the cool-headed sage of Louis XVI., cannot in writing of it forbear the cry to his sovereign : " Ah, Sire ! perhaps the names of these five unfortunate Frenchmen who were executed never came to the ears of your majesty ; deign to throw a few NEW ORLEANS. 115 flowers on their tomb ; deign to say, ' Laf r^niere, Noyan, Caresse, Viller^, Marquis, and iMilhet, were massacred by the orders of barbarous O'Heilly for liaving regretted kniving my service and for having wished to sustain my laws/'' O'Reilly wrote truly to the Spanish minister, the J\hir(|uis de Grimaldi, that the remembrance of the sen- tence would never be effaced. He extolled the neces- sity, justice, and clemency of it, and declared that it amjjly atoned for the insult offered by the province to the dignity and authority of the king of Spain. The capital now lay crushed and stunned in his hands. VVhen consciousness returned, the Spanish yoke had been securely fastened upon it, and Spanisli reconstruction was an accomplished fact. Instead of a superior council, there was a cabildo, with regidores, alcaldes, alguazils, alferez, and all tlie framework of justice and laws prescribed by tlie Recopilacion de los Indios; including the Spanisli oath of olHce, swearing: "before (lod and the Holy Cross ;iiid the Evangel, to sustain and defend the mystery of the Innnaculate Conception of our Lady the Virgin Mary." The Spanish language was made the ofticial organ, not only for earthly, but for spiritual intercourse ; and the Ursuline sisters, it is on record, shed bitter tears at having to make their devotions in a foreign tongue and from foreign prayer books. Spanish postulants were sent to them from Cuba, and French ones were not allowed to join the community, without previous per- mission from Madrid. Spanish priests were imported to serve in the churches ; the Santa Hermandad was establislied and Spanish names iilled all of O'Reilly's appoiiiliiK'uts. Notwithstanding the enduring sobriquet of '' Bloody," 116 NEW ORLEANS. affixed to his name, there are some items in the civic memory to O'Reilly's credit. By taxes on hotels, tav- erns, coffee-houses, etc., and on spirituous liquors, he assigned a regular revenue to the city. The butchers, and this is never omitted in local chronicles, voluntarily engaged to pay the city three hundred and seventy dollars annually, solemnly pledging themselves not, therefore, to increase the price of beef, except in cases of absolute necessity. A levee fund was obtained by a tax upon shipping ; and O'Reilly donated to the city, in the name of his royal master, all the vacant lots on each side of the Place d' Amies, between the levee and Chartres street, the land that was afterwards rented in perpetuity to Don Andres Almonaster. The Creoles met with a stern and cutting coldness any attempt at social intercourse on his part. He gained access only to those houses whose doors were forced open by official obligation or private interest. It was to such a house that his carriage, escorted by dragoons, was seen driving frequently up the coast. One day, when his manner or temper had provoked his hostess into a repartee too sharp for his courtesy, he lost self- command so far as to say : " Madame, do you forget who I am? " " No, sir," answered the lady, with a low bow, " but I have associated with others higher than you, who, never forgetting what was due to others, had no occasion to remind others what was due to them." The count instantly and curtly took his leave, but returned the next day with a good-humoured smile and an apology. It was not the only rebuff received by Don Alexander in good part. Among the slaves left by Noyan de Bienville, was one who had a local celebrity as cook. NEW ORLEANS. 117 O'Reilly sent for him. " You belong now," said he, "to tlie king of Spain, and until you are sold 1 shall take you into my service." " Do not dare it," answered the slave ; " you killed my master. 1 would poison you. " O'Reilly dismissed him unpunished. It was with a heartfelt sigh of relief that the colony saw O'Reilly take his departure, just a year and three months after he came to it. Don Luis de Unzaga y Aurenzago, colonel of infantry in the Spanish army, took connnand. Under his mild and easy administration, the city recovered from the despair into which O'Reilly's severity had plunged it. Indeed, O'Reilly's severity had })roduced among his own oiiicers a reaction of compassion towards the un- 118 Ni:W ORLEANS. fortunate Louisianians, with whom they soon entered into friendly relations. They were not O'Reillys and O'Reilly was not a Spaniard ; and so it was not difticnlt to direct public animosity towards the Irishman, and when he sailed away he carried it with him. Creole names soon began to appear again in the official lists. St. Denis, and De la Chaise, a brother- > in-law of Villere, accepted the appointment as alcal- des under the cabildo. Social intercourse completed in its best manner the work of conciliation. Unzasfa married a Creole, a Maxent, relative of Lafreniere. His officers followed his example : Gayarre, the son of the royal comptroller, married a Grandpre ; the intendant Odoardo, her sister ; Bouligny, a d'Auberville ; Colonel de Piernas, a De Porneuf. National and political differences became not only obliterated, but amal- gamated (as we have more than once seen since) in a common Creolism ; and by the time a few years had passed, all could co-operate with a healthy unanimity in the war between the Spanish and the French Capuchins. The triumpli of Father Genovaux over the Jesuits will be recalled, and his warrior character. His triumph, however, though brilliant, was brief, for the superior council, finding him opposed to their decree against Ulloa, expelled him from the colony as a disturber of the public peace, which, in the state of the pub- lic mind at that time, any friend of the Spaniard must necessarily have been. Father Dagol)ert, there- fore, became superior of the Capuchins. One can hardly describe Father Dagobert, without plagiarism, for in our local literature, in poetry, in prose, in song, and in history and in romance, he has been so worthily celebrated and so daintily rhymed, that his NEW ORLEANS. 119 eulogist can invent no new phrases. He was, in prac- tical parlance, the spi]-itual director, of all others, for the community committed to his charge. The very testimony of his enemies proves this. He had come into the colony when very young, and, christening, con- fessing, marrying, and burying year after year, he had founded in the hearts of the community that jurisdic- tion which only the friend and pastor can create for himself, and one in comparison with which any appoint- ment of bishop is insignilicant. He was not only be- loved of all, but he loved all, in the city and its environs. It was a notable fact, and of common remark, that the spiritual and temporal affairs had never agreed so harmoniously as under Father Dago- bert's care. No ceremony, public or private, was com- plete without him, no feast a true festivity unless his jovial face and figure appeared among the guests. And, it must always be remembered, no one knew bet- ter than he what real feasting was. And so, living along with his flock for half a century, Father Dagobert looked forward with equanimity to an old age of ease and comfort, — that ease and comfort which he would have been the last to destroy, even to disturb, in others. But there is a day of reckoning for the good as well as the bad. A short time after the Spanish pos- session of the city, the Capuchin convent was as- tounded by the appearance of its old superior. Father Genovaux, — Father Genovaux, and yet not he; so humble and patient and penitent he appeared, with eyes cast to the ground and voice barely raised above it, to beg admittance as an humble servitor of the Lord, into the house which he had once ruled as superior, from which he had been so tyrannously expelled. 120 NEW ORLEANS. Father Dagobert gave what welcome he could to a Capiichm so far removed from liis own ideals of grace, for, good-natured and tolerant as he was, there must have entered into his debonair life some irksomeness from the presence of the returned brother, who went about with such meekness and asceticism, discharging his duties with such painful exactitude, when not wrapt in prayer or in study of the Spanish language. There were also disquieting rumours in the community that Spanish Capuchins were to be sent to New Orleans. It is to be hoped that the good men prepared them- selves for the worst, for it happened. In 1772 a band of Spanish Capuchins arrived, under charge of Father Cirilo, who was also charged by the new spiritual authority of Louisiana, Don Santiago de Hecheverria, bishop of Cuba, to investigate the affairs of the Church and the state of religion in the colony. Father Dagobert, at the head of his Capuchins, duti- fully went in procession to the levee landing, to receive the new comers, and escorted them to his hospitable convent. Then, as the Gayarre chronicle proceeds to relate, Father Genovaux doffed his garb of humility, and, raising his head in his old pride and dominance, spoke, in castigating severity, of the reformation in store for the convent ; how that ignorance, profanity, wickedness, and senility would now be driven out, and virtue, learning, zeal, and religion reinstated. And forthwith he betook himself to the Spanish Capuchins, that his influence might make good his threats. He must have been of great assistance to Father Cirilo in his task, at least so we think as we read the Spanish Capuchin's report to his diocesan at Havana : — NEW OB LEANS. 121 " The people of this province are, in general, religiously disposed, and seem anxious for the salvation of their souls. Tlicy observe a profound silence during divine worship, and when the Most Holy (iliost is l.u-ouglit out, which is on the principal holidays, both sexes piostrate themselves on the ground. ^Vith regard to the women, they are more honest than in Spain, and live more in accord with the principles of the Church. . . . lUit the deportment of these . . . how shall I designate them? For I certainly cannot call Capuchins those whom I consider unworthy this holy name. In a true Capuchin . . . there is naught to be seen but austerity and poverty. But such is not the case with these men. In their dress, their shirts, breeches, stockings, and shoes, they resemble laity much more than members of their religious order. They say they have a dispensation from the Pope ... it conld never go so far as to authorize a watch in the fob, a clock striking the hour in the bedchamber, and another one, which cost two hundred ivtyar, «»2 rtj |'=^onti>i\,6,T?»x\Xci;v>e CHAPTER VIII. A ND now our city, like a. woman wlio lias been won -^^ to love her conqueror, began to assume the recon- struction that slie had shed blood to resist. It was a time one loves to recall, picturesque, romantic, rich in all poetical growths of population and custom. It was this time that has most impressed its character on the external features of New Orleans. Don Estevan Miro, too, married a Creole, a De Macarty of a noble Irish family which had followed James II. to France. He continued the gentle, familiar administration of Unzaga and Galvez. One of his first acts Avas to free the streets from the lepers, who, gravi- tating to the city from all parts of the colony, infested tlie alleyways and corners, darting out like hideous spectres, demanding, rather then Ijegging, charity of the passers-by. He collected them all in a hospital which he l)uilt for them in the rear of the city, on the high land between the Metairie ridge and Bayou St. John, still designated by old authorities as " la terre aux Lepreux." It is said that under his humane treatment the pest almost disappeared, the patients in the hospital dimin- 128 NEW ORLEANS. 129 ishing until none were left, and the useless l)uilding finally fell into decay. Ulloa had made an attempt to confine the lepers at the Balise ; but the popular indig- nation at what seemed the heartlessness of the measure forced him to desist. The conflagration, which in the history of every city furnishes the ashes for its Phtenix rise, occurred in New Orleans on Good Friday, 1788. It started on Chartres street, near St. Louis, in the chapel of the house of Don Vincento Jose Nuiiez, the military treasurer of the colony, from a lighted candle falling against the lace draperies of the altar. Everything went before the flames, — church, schoolhouse, town-hall, watchtower, convent of Capuchins, dwellings, shops ; the heart of the vieux carre was as bare as when Pauger first laid line and rod to it. We can feel the disaster as though it happened but a month ago, through the medium of a quaint historical fragment in the Howard Memorial Library, the Gazette des Deux-Ponts of August, 1798, which curiously, and fortunately enough for us, had a correspondent on the spot : — " All the vigilance of the official chiefs and the prompt assist- ance which they brought to bear, were useless, and even the engines, many of which were burned by the heat of the flames at an incredible distance. In order to appreciate the horror of the conflagration, it suffices to say that in less than five hours eight luindred and sixteen buildings were reduced to ashes, comprising in the number all commercial houses except three, and the little that was saved was again lost, or fell prey to malefactors, the un- fortunate proprietors barely escaping with their lives. The loss is valued at three millions of dollars. In an affliction so cruel and so general, the only thing that can diminish om* grief, is that not a man perished. On the morning of the morrow, what a spectacle was to be seen : in the place of the flourishing city of the day be- 130 ]srE]V OBLEANS. fove, nothing but rubbish and heaps of ruins, pale and trembling mothers, dragging their children along by the hand, their despair not even leaving them the strength to weep or groan ; and persons of luxury, quality, and consideration, who had only a stupor and silence for their one expression. But, as in most extremities, Providence always reserves secret means to temper them, this time we found, in the goodness and symiiathy of the governor and the intendant, all the compassion and all the assistance that we could expect from generous hearts, to arrest our tears and pro- vide for our wants. They turned themselves to succouring us with so much order and diligence, that we were immediately relieved. Their private charities knew no limits, and the treasury of H. M. was opened to send away for assistance." There is an editorial comment on the communication, whicli throws some light on the progress made in what Father Cirilo would have called religion and morals, under the Spanish regime. Tlie comment is this : — " The person who sent us these details adds that the fire taking- place on Good Friday, the priests refused to allow the alarm to be rung, because on that day all bells must be dumb. K such an act of superstition had taken place at Constantinople, it would not have been astonishing. The absurd Mussulman belief in fatality renders sacred to them all the precepts drawn from the Alkoran ; but a civilized nation is not made to adopt maxims so culpable towards humanity, and this trait of fanatical insanity will surely not be approved by sensible people." What lay in the ashes was, at best, but an irregular, ill-built, French town. What arose from them was a stately Spanish city, proportioned with grace and built witli solidity, practically the city as we see it to-day, and for which, first and foremost, we owe thanks to Don Andres Almonaster ; and may the Angelus bell from the Cathedral, which times the perpetual masses for his soul, never fail to remind us of our obligation to him. NEW ORLEANS. 131 Don Andres Alinonaster y Roxiis w;i.s an Andalusiau of noble birth, who, coming to Louisiana at the begin- ning of the Spanish domination, received the appoint- ment of escribano publico, or notary public, an office rich in salary, perquisites, and business opportunities, lie soon acquired wealth in it, or through it. lie became an alcalde, and afterwards bought the lionour- able rank of alferez royal, or royal standard bearer, a distinction wliicli lasted for life, and gave him a sitting at all the meetings of the council board. He was mid- dle-aged when he came into the province, and, devoting sixteen years to making his fortune, he was past sixty before he married the beautiful young Creole girl, Louise de Laronde, in the parish church of New Orleans, in 1787, the year before it was destroyed b)- lire. Standing amid the ruins and ashes of the town, that had been kind to him with money, honours, and a beau- tit'id young Avife, Don Andres had one of those inspira- tions which come at times to the hearts of millionaires, converting their wealth from mere coin into a living attribute. His first offer to the cabildo was to replace the schoolhouse. This was the first public school in New Orleans ; it was established by the government in 1772, to teach the Spanish language, with Don Andreas Lopez de Armesto as director, Don Manuel Diaz de Lara professor of Latin, and Don Francisco de la Celena teacher of reading. After finishing the schoolhouse, Almonaster offered to rebuild the parish church, and did it, at a cost of fifty thousand dollars, and continuing his benefactions he replaced tlie old charity hospital of Jean Louis with a handsome building wliich cost one hundred and fourteen 132 NEW OBLEANS. thousand dollars, changing its name to the one it now bears, Charity Hospital of St. Charles. He then filled in the still open space on each side of the church, by a convent for the Capuchins and a town hall, the Cabildo, and he added the chapel to the Ursuline convent. Nine years after his marriage, and as if indeed to reward the pious generosity of so good a Christian and citizen. Heaven sent a child to Don Andres, a daughter, who was christened, in the grand new Cathedral, Micaela Leonarda Antonia. Two years later, in the plenitude of his happiness and honour, Don Andres died and was buried in front of the altar of his Cathedral, where his name and lineage, and good deeds, coat of arras and motto, "A pesar de todos, venceremos los Godos," are cut as ineffaceably into the stone over his resting place, as, we trust, his remembrance is in the heart of his city. After the death of Don Andres, his story still went on. His beautiful young widow chose a second hus- band, and the charivari that was given her is historical. The charivaris of New Orleans are historical, in that we read of them from the very beginnings of tlie city ; but this one is called the historical charivari, for it was greater than any that had gone before, and none that came after ever could surpass it. Three da3^s and nights it pursued the beautiful widow and her husband up and down the city, to and fro, across the river. Finally, to get rid of it, they had to run away. Besides his largesse to the city, Don Andres had still wealth enough to dower his daughter with millions, so that Micaela, inheriting also the beauty of her mother, was an heiress such as the city could never even have hoped to possess. It is said, one may add, naturally, ;5 NEW OULEANH. 135 that slie fell in love with a young man in the city, but was not allowed to marry him. Instead, at sixteen, in 1811, her hand was bestowed upon young Joseph Xavier Celestin Delfair de Pontalba, son of the Baron de Pon- talba ; and this carries us still further along in our chron- icle. The old Baron de Pontalba had, under French rule, been commandant at the Cote des Allemands. His city residence was on the corner of St. Peter street and the levee. Returning to France and joining his star to that of the great Napoleon, he had been cn- nol)led by him, and his son had been taken into the royal household as page to the emperor. When Napo- leon Bonaparte first took I^ouisiana into his schemes, he ordered his ministers to collect information on its resources. INI. de Pontalba submitted a masterly me- morial to him on the subject ; fifteen days afterwards Napoleon had negotiated its cession from Spain. The marriage of his page with the Creole lieiress was cele- brated with great pomp and ceremony, and the young- couple proceeded immediately to Paris and took up their residence in a style so elegant that it became and is still a matter of local pride and great boasting to the good folk of MicaeUi's native place. The old Baron de Pontalba, haughty, severe, inordi- nately proud of his good French blood and of his devo- tion to the great emperor, lived in a magnificent cliateau called Mont I'Eveque, outside of Paris, in as great a style as his daughter-in-law inside, and, to touch lightly on the gossip of that day in Paris, the two found more sub- jects of difference than agreement, in their dispositions. It was at Mont FEveque that occurred the sensation and mystery of a moment in Paris, — where no sensation lasts longer than a moment, — ]Madame de Pontalba was 13G NEW OBLEANS. found one morning weltering in her blood on the floor of her chamber, her body torn witli pistol shots — the old Baron sitting in his arm-chair in his room in the tower, dead. . . . By a miracle, Madame de Pontalba recovered carrying to her death the bullets in her body and maintaining to the end the prestige of her wealth, position, and indomitable will. Frequenting, and fre- quented by, the Faubourg St. Germain, she escaped none of the horror and excitement that filled the minds of the ancien rSgime^ wlien it became rumoured that the beautiful palace built by Louis XIV. for the Due du Maine, on the rue de Lille, was to be bought by the " Bande Noire," and razed to the ground ; the site to be filled with smaller buildings. With her Louisi- ana millions she bought the palace herself, and even attem})ted, with the vaulting ambition of women, to live in it. Only royal wealth and attendance could, however, properly fill the pile, — four hundred rooms, it contained, — so the new proprietor, submitting, as even royal personages must, to circumstances, demolished the palace herself, but reserved all its artistic wealth of carvings, columns, ornaments, marbles, for the new hotel which she built ; a hotel of magnificent state, but more in proportion to her position and means. It was sold afterwards for five million francs to one of the Rothschilds. And here — her princely revenues from Louisiana l)eing vastly increased, by profitable investments in France, — the daughter of the alferez real continued her role until it seems only the other day, in 1874, death rang down the curtain. And what a drama, what roles had she not seen acted on the stage round about her ! The fall, the double fall, of Bonaparte, the NE]V ORLEANS. 137 Restoration, Louis XVI II., C'luirles X., Revolution, Louis Philippe, Second Republic, Second Empire, German triumph, Third Republic. But to return to Don Estevan Miro and his century. He also put his hand to rebuilding. Behind the Ca- bildo, filling all the space on St. Peter street, to within a few feet of Royal, a calaboza, " calaboose," Avas erected, a grim, two-story construction surrounded by walls of -''wpiTwrm Idoorv p»i?**r^,,5,^^^^^^^ ■•J-- (Sid A massive thickness, and filled with little cells and dun- geons, dark, fast, terrible beyond all possibility of need, it would seem, for the criminal capabilities of the place and the people. It was shut in by a huge iron gateway and ponderous doors, crossed and barred and checked with formidable handwrought iron bars. Plank- ing the calaboose, almost as fierce and imposing, was tlie Arsenal, opening into St. Anthony's alley. And, the march of improvement once started, the handsome 138 NEW OBLEAWS. French barracks, begun by Kerlerec, on the old site, near the Ursuline convent, was completed with the addition of a new military hospital and chapel. And a wooden custom-house was built on the square filled to-day by its granite successor ; then, however, it stood on the river bank, just inside the public road. On the open levee space on the lower side of the Place d' Amies, where, from time out of mind the market venders, Indians, negroes, hunters, trappers, had exposed their vegetables, fruits, skins, game, herbs, and baskets for sale, a shed, or butclier's market, was put up, the beginning of the arcades of the French market of to-day. A hotel for the governor arose on the corner of Toulouse and the levee, as we call it to-day, Old Levee street. And all over the burnt district the old resi- dences reappeared in their new Spanish garb, bricks and stones, arched windows and doorways, handwrought iron work, balconies, terraces, courtyards, everytliing broad rather than high, broad rooms, corridors, windows, doorways — some of them still standing entire, as their Spanish architect left them, others represented only b}^ vestiges, a wall, window, or door, balcony or quadrangle, but all, to the very last segment, a benefaction to the eye, and a benediction to the Spaniard's domination, and, as has been said, first and foremost to Don Andres Almonaster. In the midst of the activity and bustle of the new energy, came the news of the death of Carlos III. and the accession of Carlos IV., and pompous memorial obsequies for the one event, and rich festivities for the other, were celebrated with great form. Hardly had Don Estevan and the cily settled again into the comfort- NEW OB LEANS. 139 able routine of their respective habits, wlien the former received a reminder from the Okl Workl that a chanoe of sovereigns represented sometldng more than a cere- mony, even to a distant province. Padre Antonio de Sedelhi, a Spanish Capuchin arrived hitely in the city, called uj)()n tlie governor and exhibited a connuission to establish the Holy Office of the Inquisition in the city. He had made, he said, all of his preparations with the utmost secrecy and caution ; they were now complete and he was ready for action. So he notified the gov- ernor that he would soon, at some late hour of the night, call iipon him for guards to make the necessary arrests. Don Estevan was courteous and deferential as a Span- iard should be to the priest and to his commission ; but he made up his mind, and, like Padre Antonio, made his preparations with the utmost secrecy and caution, and they also were complete. The following night, while the priest was enjoying the slumbers of a good conscience l)efore a pleasant future, he was aroused by a heavy knocking on his door. Opening it, he saw an officer and a file of grenadiers. Thinking that they came to assist him in his holy office, " I thank you, my friends," he said, " and his excellency, for the prompti- tude of this compliance Avith my request ; but I have IK) need of your services at this moment. You can re- turn, with the blessing of (iod. I shall warn you in time when you are wanted." He was informed that he was arrested. " What," he exclaimed, stupefied, " will you dare lay hands on a commissioner of the In- ([uisition?" " I dare obey orders," replied the officer; and the Padre Antonio, with the efficiency of his own holy office, was stowed away in a sliip in [)ort, which sailed the next day for Cadiz. '' When 1 read the com- 140 NEW ORLEANS. munication of that Capuchin," wrote Miro to the Cabi- net of Madrid, " I shuddered. The very name of Inquisition uttered in New Orleans woukl be suf- ficient not only to check immigration . . . but would be capable of driving away those who have recently come here. And I even fear that, in spite of my hav- ing sent Father Sedella out of tlie country, the most fatal consequences may arise from the mere suspicion of the cause of his dismissal." A half century later, when the old calaboose was demolished, secret dungeons containing instruments of torture were discovered, which were supposed to be some of the preparations for the disciplining of the col- onists, announced as complete, by Padre Antonio. But the serious responsibility of the Spanish govern- ors of Louisiana, was the attempt to mew up the com- merce of the Mississippi in the colonial tariff regulations of Spain. Honest foreign commerce, as expected, had been nigh driven away from the port ; what trade remained was in the hands of smugglers and contra- bands. But there was another trade, tlie volume and force of which neither the French nor the Spaniards had fully estimated. After the war of Independence, the great Middle States, the great West they Avere called then, burst, as it were, into their full rich devel- opment, lliere were then no railroads ; rivers furnished the only outlet for the teeming harvests ; and the Mis- sissippi, gathering up the waters of its affluents and their freight, bore down upon its currents to New Orleans a continuous line of flatboats laden to the edge Avith the ricli produce from above. " As many as forty boats at a time," wrote Miro, could be seen coming in to the landing. The cargoes found ready sale, and NEW ORLEANS. 141 were soon [he main source of food supplies to tlie <'ity; tlie flatboats, after ])eino- unloaded, were broken up and sold for timber. But the sturdy flatboatmen, from Ohio and Kentucky, on their return, had always a long list of seizures, confiscations, imprisonments and vexations, and interferences of all kinds by the Spanish authorities, to report. The people of the States were too strong and bold in their new liberty to brook such treatment. They claimed that the Mississippi river belonged to the people of the Mississippi Valley, and they deter- mined to have the use of it, to its mouth. The violent invasion of Louisiana, and capture of New Orleans, became a connnon threat with them, although the peaceable element among them applied to Congress for relief. Miro, impressed with the importance of the ]\Iissis- sippi as the artery of trade to the country, and fully alive to the critical temper of the Americans, and to the defenceless condition of his province, did what he could to relieve the tension, by relaxing his restrictions upon the river trade. To fill up the country, he encouraged emigration from the west itself, into the Spanish side of tlie Mississi[)[)i Valley. The Acadian emigrants that came into the country were settled along the river l)ank, and, to increase the Spanish i)opulation, a nuud)er of families from the Canary Islands were imported and settled in Galvezton, near Manchac, and in Venezuela, on Bayou Lafourche. The descendants of these people are still called Islingues, Islanders. A brilliant effort was also made to secure the friend- ship of the Choctaw and Chickasaw Indians, still a formidable and always unreliable power, to the north and east of Louisiana. Miro invited thirty-six of the .42 NEW OE LEANS. nost influential of the Chickasaw chiefs, to the city, jid exerted himself to give them a royal entertain- uent, receiving them with the pomp and ceremony they ,0 delighted in ; gave them rich presents, harangued liem, was harangued by them, smoked the calumet vitli them, had a military parade for them, decorated liem with medals. The Chickasaw regent, however, ivho attended in place of the king, a minor, would not iccept his medal. Snch distinctions, he said, might 3onfer honour on his warriors, but he was already sufficiently distinguished by his royal blood. The ;^ala wound up with a grand ball, which delighted the dusky visitors mightily. They could not keep their eyes off the beautiful ladies, wondrously radiant in their ball dresses, and it is on record that, with tlie true gracefulness, if not the graceful truthfulness, of compliment, one of the visitors Avas heard remarking (what, indeed, many visitors have since remarked at New Orleans balls) that he believed the ladies were all sisters, and had descended just as they were from heaven. The mutterings from the north still continued, and at every rise of the river, INliro feared a filibustering army of indignant Westerners in flatboats. Then, from suggestions from dissatisfied Americans, there crept into Spanish calculations a ray of possibility that the Western States might, for commercial advan- tages, be seduced away from the new republic, which seemed apparently a union only for the advantage of the east and north, and formed into an independent republic, friendly to and even dependent upon, Spain. And out of Miro's surmises on the subject, and the fosterings of them by American discontent. NEW ORLEANS. 143 there arose a l)it of political iiitrinne which rnns throngli tlie rest of the Spanish domiiiation. Don Estevan, being permitted, at his own request, to retire to Spain, the province and city were, for the next five years, confided to the Baron Frangois Louis Hector de Carondelet. The Baron was a native of Flanders, a short, plump, choleric, good-hearted middle- aged gentleman. At the time of his appointment lie was serving as governor of San Salvador, in Guatemala. Like Miro, he found himself in Louisiana wrestling with the question whether, practically, New Orleans was to control the Mississippi for Spain, or the jNIississippi to control Ncav Orleans for America ; and like Miro, he wisely submitted to the violation of tariff regulations which no power could have enforced. The Western trade multiplying in volume and value, the Western boatmen, traders, merchants, increased in numbers, audacity, and independence, continued to pour into the city. Sometimes, in the wild boisterous- ness of their night frolics, their brawling and skir- mishing with the Spanish guard, the peaceable citizens, awakened out of their slumbers, ^^^ould wonder if they were not in truth making good their threats of literally capturing the place. In the wake of these pioneers came merchants from Philadelphia, establisliing branch houses in the new- business centre, and they drew after them from all over the country the rank and file of their offices, young Americans, keen for new chances at quick fortunes. The first dottings of American names, queer and foreign they seem, appear now among the French and Spanish, on signboards, in society, in families. Timely warning had been sent from Madrid, in 144 NEW ORLEANS. Miro's term, prohibiting the introduction of any boxes, clocks, or other wares stamped with the figure of the American goddess of liberty. It hung together with the Madrid idea of establishing the Inquisition in New Orleans, and putting the Mississipjn in leading strings. But the American goddess of liberty was not the only one to be feared; there was the much more deadly French goddess of liberty, or of revolution, and every paper or letter that came from the old country brought, if not her figure, the breathing of her spirit. It was electricity to the atmosphere. In vain came tlie bloody details of the Reign of Terror, the fugitives from France, the boat loads of terror-stricken women and children, in their blood-stained clothes, from St. Do- mingo and the otlier revolted West Indian islands ; the Phrygian cap was in, if not on, every head ; the '•'• Marseillaise " and the " (Ja ira " on every Creole tongue. The proclamation of the republic, the execu- tion of Louis XVI. were hailed with enthusiasm. The excitement reached its climax with the declaration of war by Spain against France. Then the Spanish reconstruction was shaken off, like a dream, from the Creoles ; they started to their feet, proclaiming them- selves Frenchmen, Frenchmen still in heart, language, and nationality. As for the republic, even the most monarchical among them had been republican since Louis XV. had cast them off and abandoned them to the vengeance of O'Reilly. They saw a chance now of reasserting their will as a people and being re-annexed by liberty, to those rights of country from which an act of despotism had cast them out. One hundred and fifty of them signed a petition praying for the protection of tlie new republic. At NEJV OnLEANS. 145 the theatre the orchestra was conijielkMl to play the Hivohitionary song's, 'i'he Freiu^li .lacobin society of Philadelpliia distributed through secret agents their inflammatory address from the freemen of France to their brothers in Louisiana, calling upon them to rise for their liberty, promising that abundant help would pour down the Ohio and Mississippi to them, a promise that the machinations of the French minister at Washington, and the well-known dispositions of the Western people, rendered only too plausible. Auguste de la Chaise, grandson of the former royal commissary (nephew of the confessor of Louis XIV,), and one of the most influential and distinguished of the young Creoles, threw himself heart and soul into tlie movement, and was sent by the French minister to Kentucky to recruit the forces he was chosen to lead into Louisiana. But the l)aron was equal to the emergency. To off- set the French petition, he had another paper signed by an equal number of citizens who pledged themselves to the king of Spain and the actual government of Louisiana. The gates of the city were closed every evening at dark ; the militia was mustered ; the orches- tra at the theatre was forbidden to play martial or revo- lutionary music ; revolutionary songs were prohibited in the streets and coffee-houses ; and six of the most ardent republicans were arrested and sent to Havana, to cool their heads by a twelvemonth's quiet and seclu- sion in the security of the castle fortress there. And the city was fortified as it never had been before and never has been since ; the baron himself going every morning at dawn on horseback to superintend the works. The maps of the time show running around 146 NEW OE LEANS. the vieux carre a tight little palisadoed wall, fifteen feet high, with a fosse in front seven feet deep and forty feet wide. On the corners, fronting the river, were two forts, St. Louis (Canal street) and St. Charles (Esplanade street), pentagon shaped, with a parapet coated with brick, eighteen feet high, armed with a dozen twelve and eighteen pounders. Before the cen- tre of the city was a great battery, which crossed its OV*'"'»<|'T» fire with the forts, and commanded the river. The rear also was protected with three forts. Forts Burgundy (Esplanade street), St. Joseph, and St. Ferdinand (Canal street). The batteries on the river were strengthened, and a fort was built on Bayou St. John. A distinguished French general, Victor Collot, who visited the province in 1790, studying its military resources, gives, in his written report of his observa- tions, an elaborate and rather amusing description of the baron's fortifications. NEW ORLEANS. 147 " It cannot be denied that these miniature forts are well kept and trimmed up. But . . . they look more like playthings in- tended for babies than military defences. For . . . there is not one that five hundred determined men could not carry, sword in hand. Once master of one of the j)rincipal forts, either St. Louis or St. Charles, the enemy would have no need of minding the others, because by bringing the guns to bear on the city, it woidd be forced to capitulate immediately, or be burned up in less than an hour. We believe that M. de Carondelet, when he adopted this means of defence, thought more of providing for the obedience of the subjects of his Catholic majesty, then for an attack of a for- eign enemy, and in this point of view he nuxy be said to have com- pletely succeeded." The baroii himself confesses in his after reports to his government that this was his point of view, and said, moreover, tliat if New Orleans had not been awed by his forts, its people wonld have rebelled and a revo- hition taken place. However deficient the baron may have appeared to the general as a military engineer, he was not so lacking in strategical shrewdness as to allow so competent a critic within his lines. He sent a lile of dragoons to the De Boro plantation above tlie city, where the general was staying, arrested him, seized his papers and maps, and lodged him in Fort St. Charles, whose value as a prison at least he had an opportunity to test. Later he was sent to the Balise, and deposited in the house of Ronquillo, the chief pilot there, situated in a swamp from which there was no escape except by boat. After six weeks' sojourn liere, CoUot succeeded in getting passage in a brig to Phihidelphia. As for De Bord (grandfather of Charles Gayarr ■, the historian), who was an ardent Frenchman, the baron thought seriously of arresting him also, and sending 148 NEW ORLEANS. him to Havana ; but he was deterred by the thought of De Bore's influential family connections, and the great benefit he had conferred upon the colony by his suc- cessful experiment in sugar making. The United States, in the meantime, had asserted its authority, checked the intrigues of the French min- iik-iih-iii.. ister and prevented the use of its territory for an inva- sion of the Spanish possessions ; and, by the treaty of Madrid, 1795, Spain allowed the free navigation of the river to Americans, and granted them a place of de- posit, free of duty, in the city. Within the city walls, the rebuilding and improve- ments continued. As there had been another disastrous NEW OliLEANS. 149 conflagration, the roofs, instead of being shingled, were terraced or (H)vered with round tiles of home mannfactiire. The dark, ill-guarded streets, a haiuit for footpads and robbers and evildoers, were lighted by eighty hanging-lamps, and a regular force of night watchmen ^vas formed, serenos they were called, from their calling out the state of the weather and the hour of the night. Jiut the great, the monumental, work of the baron, was the Canal Carondelet, which not only drained the vast swamps in the rear of the city, but, by bringing the waters of the Bayou St. John to a basin close to its ramparts, immensely facilitated and increased its commerce. The cabildo in acknowledgment gave his name to it. Louisiana having been detached from the Bishopric of Havana, and erected into a distinct see, the city received, in 1794, a high and worthy addition to its population and dignity. Her new bishop, Don Luis de Peiialvert y Cardenas, arrived with two canons and took up his residence in the convent of tlie Capuchins, and the parish church of St. Louis was advanced to the rank of Cathedral. The first newspaper of the colony, " Le Moniteur de la Louisianne," made its appearance also in this year. A Free Masons' lodge was established. The establislnnent of the French theatre, however, antedated all these events. In 1791, among the first refugees from St. Domingo came a company of French comedians. They hired a hall and commenced to give regular performances. The success they met, it ma}' be said, endures still, for the French drama has main- tained tln'ough over a century the unbroken continuity of its popularity in the city. 150 NEW OB LEANS. The Cathedral, the Cabiklo, the theatre, that is how they were ranked then — and are ranked now by the Creoles. The hired hall in conrse of time became the "Theatre St. Pierre," or "La Comedie," on St. Peter street, between Bourbon and Orleans streets, and, bar- ring a two months' respite, regular performances were given on its boards winter and summer for twenty years — classic drama, opera, ballet, pantomime. In 1808 the new and progressive "• Theatre St. Philippe," in St. Philip street, between Royal and Bourbon was opened with a grand programme : ballet, pantomime " Le Sourd," and " L'Ecossais a la Louisiane." And in its repertoire during the year, there was more local drama " Le Commerce de Nuit," a Creole comedy Avith songs and patois, and "■ L'habitant de la Guadaloupe." The two theatres kept up a fine company of actors and musicians, many of them marr^dng in the city and hav- ing representatives of their name still among us. Li 1811 the "Theatre d'Orleans" was opened on the square now occupied by the Convent of the Holy Fam- ily. When one said the " Theatre d'Orleans," in those days, and for forty years afterwards, in New Orleans, one expressed a theatrical excellence second only to Paris. If any one doubts this, there are plenty yet alive to tell of its glories, and have we not the great prima donna still with us, the beautiful and bewitching Calve? And he who can hear of her as La Norma and La Fille du Regiment without irrepressible longings to be three score and ten — has not the heart of a New Orleanian. In 1797 the Baron and Baroness de Carondelet left the city and province, the baron having been appointed president of the Audiencia Real of Quito. They were § NEW ORLEANS. 158 the most estimable of government representatives in all the relations of official and social life. They left l)ehind them in the city, to remember and regret them, a. large circle of friends, who, altliough now also passed into the remembered and regretted, have left chronicled, in many a cradle and fireside story, the sayings and doings of the good, domineering little baron and his amiable wife. Brigadier-general Gayoso de Lemos followed in the Hotel dn Gouvernement. He had been educated in England, and there, it is seriously apprehended by French and Spanish historians, acquired those hal)its of conviviality which carried him off suddenly, at the age of forty-eight, — to be definite, after an over-generous sup- per with a distinguished American friend and visitor. Still the Americans and the Western commerce came down the Mississippi, and still from the Gulf side ilowed in the immigration from the West Indies and from France. There could be no criticism now of the birth or blood of the immigrants. The class which had scoured the cities and kidnapped the villagers of France for human stock for their concessions in Louisiana, were now themselves driven into the New World by their own game, now turned into hunters. The Marquis de Maison Rouge, the Baron de Bastrop, M. de Lassus de St. Vrain came, the avant eoureurs of what Avould have been, had their ideas realized, a whole provincial nobil- ity for Louisiana. And, with the unexpected pictu- resqueness of circumstance or accident that sometimes groups dancers at a masked ball, there came across to New Orleans in 1798 the royal fugitives themselves, the Due d'Orleans, the Due de Montpensier, and the Comte de Beaujolais, the sons of Philippe Egalitc. They were cordially welcomed by the Spanish autliorities, and hos- 154 iV^E'TF OliLEANS. pitably received by the citizens, among whom they found faces and names that had once, like Louisiana, belonged by every right to France. They were the guests of that Creole and provincial magnate, Philippe de Ma- rigny (who had once been a page at Versailles), at his plantation, then below the city, now just below Espla- nade street. Costly entertainments were given them ; they became familiar figures in the streets, and fre- quented the houses of the prominent citizens. They visited the plantation of Julien Poydras and of M. de Bore, who had been, in his youth, a mousquetaire iioir in the court of their grandfather, — everywhere pro- fessing themselves charmed with the city, pleased with the Creole men, and as enchanted with the ladies as the Choctaw and Chickasaw chiefs had been. In fact, the young royal brothers left an impression of pleasure behind them in the city, not only ineffaceable but inex- haustible; reminiscences of the most miraculous origin spring up everywhere to commemorate the glory and honour of the visit. Houses built half a century after- wards, and in regions they never visited, show rooms which they occupied. There are enough beds in which they slept to fill a whole year of nights ; and vases, tea-cups, and snuff-boxes for a population. Philippe de Marigny, it is said, placed not only his house, but his purse, at the disposition of his guests, and their needs forced upon them a temporary use of the latter as well as of the former. In time the Due d' Or- leans became Louis Philippe, the bourgeois king of France. Philippe de INIarigny died, and his son, Ber- nard, the historical spendthrift of Louisiana, fell into evil days, having pleasured away the large fortune left him by his father. Ho bethought him of his father's NEW ORLEANS. 155 royal friend and guest, and went to France, hoping for a return, not only of the hospitality, but of the purse of his father. But, bourgeois though he was in other respects, Louis Pliilippe had a royal memory. He returned the hospitality, however, and offered young Mandeville, the son of Bernard, an education at St. Cyr and a position in the French army. The young Creole became lieu- tenant in a cavalry corps d'elite, but found that an obli- gation had been shifted, rather than a debt paid ; and at any rate, as he used to relate in his old age, he was too much of an American and a republican for life in France. He fought a duel with a brother officer who cast a slur upon the Americans, resigned his commis- sion, and returned to the colony. Upon the news of Gayoso's death, the captain-general of Cuba sent over the Marquis de Casa Calvo to be governor ad interim of the colony. Sebastian de Casa Calvo de la Puerta y O'Faril, Marquis de Casa Calvo, was a connection of O'Reilly's, under whom he had served as cadet in Louisiana thirty years before, when he had witnessed the execution of the five patriots. Curiously enough. Napoleon was just now consummating his re- taliatory supplement to that affair, and, by the treaty of Ildefonso, putting France again in possession of Louisiana. But, as before, the cession was a secret. Don Juan Manuel de Salceclo, brigadier-general in the armies of Spain, arrived in 1801, to relieve the Marquis de Casa Calvo. Salcedo made a vigorous defensive effort against what he considered the designs of the Americans. Their immigration into the prov- ince was practically prohibited by a decree forbidding the granting of any land in Louisiana to a citizen of the United States ; and, in order to put an end to the 156 NEW ORLEANS. influx of Americans into New Orleans, the right of deposit was suspended by proclamation, and no other place, as provided in the treaty of Madrid, was desig- nated. The Western people saw themselves deprived of an outlet without which they could not exist. They arose in their resentment, and addressed, not only Congress, but the whole country : — " The Mississippi is ours," they said, " by the law of nature. Our rivers swell its volume and flow with it to the Gulf of JVlexico. Its mouth is the only issue which nature has given to our waters, and we wish to use it for our vessels. No power in the world sliould dej^rive us of our rights. If our liberty in this matter is disputed, nothing shall prevent our taking possession of the capi- tal, and when we are once masters of it we shall know how to maintain ourselves there. If Congress refuses us effectual protec- tion, we will adopt the measures which our safety requires, even if they endanger the peace of the Union and our connection with the other States. No protection, no allegiance." 9JJ ^^fi9X* ^m2 ~-y CHAPTER IX. ''T OUISIANA is the only place on the continent, -L^ the possessor of whicli is the natural enemy of tlie United States." The interesting and highly creditible display of American diplomacy by which President Jefferson forced Napoleon Bonaparte to accept this conviction of liis as an ultimatum, and sell hun for fifteen millions of dollars, not only New Orleans, ])ut one million square miles in the heart of the Continent, must be passed over. The treaty of sale was signed in Paris on the thirtietli of April, 1803. Bernadotte was selected to take command of the colony by Napoleon, who thought thus to rid himself cleverly and profitably of a suspected rival. Berna- dotte, however, had not only a Bonaparte training, but a certain amount of Bonaparte shrewdness himself. His exaction of men and money for his command were such that, as Napoleon said, he would not do as much for one of his own brothers. I le therefore substituted General Victor, with a prefect, Laussat, and changed the form of Bernadotte's exile by ap[)ointing him min- ister plenipotentiary to the United States. Bernadotte 157 158 NEW ORLEANS. accepted this, but before he coukl complete his prepara- tions for sailing war was declared between France and England, and he returned to Paris, declaring that he would perform no civil function so long as it lasted ; and it was some time before the First Consul would be reconciled to him. General Victor, preparing also to sail for New Orleans, did not take his departure for tlie same reason. Laussat therefore sailed without him, but as General Victor alone. was authorized to receive the colony from the Spanisli government, the colonial pre- fect, upon arrival, found himself without authority and without functions. The news of its reannexation to France was welcomed by the city with the wildest excitement and rejoicings. Laussat was received with an enthusiastic ovation, and his proclamation in the name of the French Repuljlic, to quote the words of the address returned by the citizens, '■'■lilled their souls Avith the delirium of extreme felicity. . . . But," continued the address, in answer to Laussat's republican denunciation of the S^janish gov- ernment, " wc should be unworthy of wliat is to us a subject of so much pride ... if we did not acknowledge that we have no cause of complaint against the Spanish government. We have never groaned under the yoke of an oppressive despotism. It is true that the time was when our unfortunate kinsmen reddened with their blood the soil which they wished to preserve for France. . . . But the calamities which were inflicted upon us were due to the atrocious soul of a foreigner and to an extreme breach of faith. . . . Long ago we proved to the Spaniards that we did not consider them as the ac- complices of these atrocities. We have become bound together by family connections and by the bonds of NEW ORLEANS. tVifiidsliip. Let tliem liave the untrammelled enjoy- ment of all the property they may own on the soil that has become the land of freedom, and let ns share with , <-^~£ them, like brothers, the blessings of our new position." ^^^^I^^^*^ ^ Five weeks after Lanssat's arrival, the Marquis de ~^ w "^ ^y^ Casa Calvo landed in the city, sent by the captain-gen- <>r- _Z the assend)led congregation that J^e miglit be ill. T'i*. church was immediately deserted, all rushing in a mob NEW ORLEANS. 177 to the little cabin in St. Anthony's alley, in \\liich P^re Antoine lived. He tranquilized them as to his l)odily weltarc, but infornicd thcni arata- rians, " Nez Coupe," who lived at Grand Terre, used to tell that among thcni was one, Grambo, who boldly called himself a pirate and flouted Lafitte's euphemism of privateer, and his men were so much of his kind, that, one day, one of them dared an opposition to the ncAv authority. Lafitte drew a pistol and shot him through the heart, before the whole band. Although during the embargo of 1808, Lafitte opened a shop on Royal street and assumed the insignia of legitimate trade, there was no serious attempt to deceive any one. lie took and gave orders for merchandise at Barataria, as he would have done for Philadelphia. As 196 JSFEJV ORLEANS. a business venture his scheme became so brilliant a suc- cess that it made its own propaganda ; and it, not the law, became a converting power in the community. It was in 1813 that the Baratarians reached such a jjinnacle of prosperity that not only the United States felt its loss of revenue, but the shipping in the port diminished, commerce languished, and the banks weakened under the continual lessening of their de- posits from the draining off of the trade to Barataria. There the blue waters of the bay were ever gay with the sails of incoming and out-going vessels ; there the laiiding-places bustled and swarmed with activity, and capacious warehouses stood ever gorged with merchan- dise, and the cargoes of slaves multiplied, for the con- traband slavers were always the keenest of the patrons of Barataria. The farms, orange groves, and gardens of the family homes of the privateers transformed Grande Terre and the islands around the Grand Pass into a pastoral beauty which, with the marvellous witchery overhead and about, of cloud and sea-colouring, might be truly called heavenly. A fleet of barges plied un- ceasingly through the maze of bayous between the LaFourche and the Mississippi ; under cover of night their loads were ferried over the river and delivered to agents in New Orleans and in Donaldsonville, the distributing point for the upper river country, and for the Attakapas region. And, en passant., as there must, in every place and time, be a form of suspicion against the purity of rapid money making, many a notable fortune of that day was attributed to an underhand connection with Lafitte. So perfect had the system and discipline become under Lafitte's extraordinary executive ability, that it was a mere question of time NE]V ORLEANS. 197 Avlien he would hold iii his hands the monopoly of the import trade of Louisiana, and, in a great measure, that of the entire Mississippi Valley. The national government made several attempts to assert its authority, but the few seizures it made dam- aged the privateers very little, if it did not benefit them directly by advancing the prices of the goods that escaped. Every now and then a revenue cutter was sent to surprise Barataria, but it always found that a timely warning had preceded it, and not a trace was to be discovered of the rich booty expected. And as each expedition returned discomfited, the government agents themselves began to be suspected of a secret partner- ship with Lafitte. During the spring of 1813 the scandalous notoriety of the prosperity of the Baratarians drew from (lov- ernor Claiborne a proclamation against them. He qualified the business roundly as piracy, and cautioned the people of the state against any commerce with it. But the governor only gained the experience of the naive in attempting the unpopular experiment of raising public morality to a personal standard No one paid so little attention to liis proclamation as the Lafittes themselves. They made their appearance in the streets as unconcernedly as usual, surrounded as usual Ijy ad- ndring friends ; their names appeared as usual among the patrons of the public entertainments, and, as usual, auctions of slaves and goods were advertised to take place at Barataria. During the summer the British patrol of the Gulf tried a hand against the Baratarians. One of its sloops of war attacked two privateers at anchor off Ship Island; but it met with such a spirited recej)tion, 198 NEW ORLEANS. and suffered such loss, that it was gUid to beat a retreat with all haste, the prestige as ever remaining with the privateers. Claiborne launched another proclamation, offering a reward of five hundred dollars for the arrest of Latitte and his delivery to the sheriff of the parish prison, or to any sheriff in the state. Notwithstanding this, the cargoes of the privateers' prizes and slaves, four hun- dred and fifty at one time, were still auctioned at Grand Terre, and still the goods were delivered in city and country. The agents went now, however, well armed, for although Lafitte deprecated and deplored violence, force was met with force, and in one attempt to execute the law, a revenue collector had one of his men killed and two wounded. The governor, owning himself baffled, appealed to the legislature, then in session, to take some measures to vindicate the outraged law of the State and of the national government. He asked the necessary author- ity and appropriation to raise a volunteer company to send against Barataria. Lafitte only strengthened his guards, and made his deliveries with his wonted ex- actitude. His confidence in the legislature seemed well founded. They deferred all action in the matter for want of funds. The governor then, as the only satisfaction possible, secured the criminal prosecution of his adversaries. Indictments for piracy were found against Jean Lafitte and the Baratarians ; and Pierre Lafitte, charged with being an aider and abettor, was arrested in New Orleans and lodged in the Calaboose without bail. Jean Lafitte snapped his fingers at this, by retaining at a fee of twenty thousand dollars apiece, two of the NEW ORLEANS. 199 most distinguished members of the bar, for his defence;- Edward Livingston and John R. Grymes. Grymes, at the time, was district attorney, but he resigned his office for the fee, and when his successor taunted him in open court with having been seduced out of the path of honour and duty by the blood-stained gold of l)irates, Grymes defended his honour by sending his arraigner a challenge, shooting him through the hip and crippling him for life. When the two eminent counsellors had cleared their client, and brushed the cobwebs of the law out of his future path for him, Lafitte invited them to visit him at Barataria, and personally receive their honorarium. Grymes, a Virginian, an easy moralist and adventurous, accepted readily and heartily ; Livingston, the conven- tionally correct New Yorker, excused himself, deputing his colleague, at ten per cent commission, to collect his fee for him. ()hl diners-out of the time say that it was ever afterwards one of Mr. Grymes's most delec- 200 NEW ORLEANS. table post-prandial stories, the description of his trip to Barataria, and the princely hospitality of the innocent, persecuted Baratarians. Lafitte kept him through a Aveek of epicurean feasting and conducted him to the mouth of the Mississippi in a superb yawl, laden with boxes of Spanish gold and silver. " What a mis- nomer," Grymes would exclaim, "to call the most polished gentlemen in the world pirates ! " Par pa- rentliese^ there is always added to this the reminiscence, that by the time Mr, Grymes reached the city, running the gauntlet of the hospitality of the j^lanters of the lower coast, and of their card-tables, not a cent of his fee remained to him. Whether prompted by a hint from his counsel, or by his own confidence in the inflexibility of Governor Claiborne's purpose against him, Lafitte was preparing to change his base and establish his Barataria in some more secure coast, when his good fortune threw another rare opportunity across his path. On an early September morning of 1814, Barataria was startled by a cannon-shot from the Gulf. Lafitte darting in his four-oared barge through the pass, saw just outside in the Gulf a jaunty brig flying the British colours. A gig, with three officers in uniform, imme- diately advanced from her side towards him, and the officers introduced themselves as the bearers of impor- tant desj)atches to Mr. Lafitte. Lafitte, making himself known, invited them ashore, and led the way to his apartments. The description of the entertainment that followed vies with that of INIr. Grymes. It was such as no one but Lafitte knew how to give, and, without irony, no one could afford to give so well as himself, — the choicest wines of Spain and NEW ORLEANS. 201 France, tropical fruits, game, and the most temi)tiiig varieties of (iiilf lish, all serv((d in the costliest silver. And the host disphiyed as lavishly all the incomparable grace and charm of manner and l)rilliancy of conversa- tion Avhich, among the appreciative people of Jjouisi- ana, had been accepted as legal tender for moral dues. Over the cigars, the rarest of Cuban brands, the packet of despatches was opened. The letter addressed to Mr. Laiitte, of Barataria, from the British commander at Pensacola, contained, without periphrase, an offer to Lafitte of thirty thousand dollars, payable in Pensacola or New Orleans, the rank of captain in the British army, and the enlistment of liis men in the navy, if he Avould assist the English in their proposed invasion of Louisi- ana. iMiclosed with the letter was a i)rinted prorhima- lion addressed to the natives of Louisiana, calling upon them to ""arise and aid in liberating tlieir paternal soil from a faithless and imbecile government." Lafitte, affecting to consider the proposition, asked })ermission to go and consult an old friend and associate whose vessel, he said, Avas then lying in the Bay. Dur- ing his absence, a band of Baratarians, who had been on watch, seized the officers and carried them to a strong place, where they were kept prisoners, under guard, all night. The next morning Lafitte returned, and \vitli good dramatic surprise was loud in indignant blame of his men ; releasing the officers, instantly with profuse apologies, he escorted them himself through the pass, and left them safe aboard their brig. But the English letter and proclamation were already on their way to a friend, a member of the legislature, with an epistle conceived in the ])rivateer chief's best style : — 202 NEW ORLEANS. " Though proscribed in iny adopted country, I will never miss an opportunity of serving her or of proving that she has never ceased to be dear to nie. ... I may have evaded the payment of duties to the custom house, but I have never ceased to be a good citizen, and all the offences I have committed have been forced upon me by certain vices of the law. . . . Our enemies have en- deavoured to work upon me by a motive which few men would have resisted. ... A brother in irons, a brother who is very dear to me and whose deliverer I might become; and I declined the proposal, well persuaded of his innocence. . . ." He did his brother and himself injustice. Pierre Lafitte, as Jean knew, had long since given leg-bail, the other having been refused him, and was even then enjoying his wonted security and comfort in New Orleans. A few days later Lafitte sent, in a second letter to his friend, an anonymous communication from Havana, giving important information about the intended opera- tions of the British. He also enclosed a letter to Gov- ernor Claiborne : " In the firm persuasion," he wrote, "that the choice made of you to fill the office of first magistrate of this city was dictated by the esteem of your fellow citizens, and was conferred on merit, I offer to you to restore to this State several citizens who per- haps in your eyes have lost their sacred title. I oft'er you them, however, such as you would wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost efforts in defence of their country. . . . The only reward I ask ... is that a stop be put to the proscription against me and my ad- herents, by an act of oblivion for all that has been done hitherto. ... I am the stray sheep wishing to return to the sheep-fold. If you were thoroughly acquainted with the nature of my offences, I should appear to you much less guilty and still worthy to discharge the NEW on LEANS. 203 duties of a good citizen. . . . Should your answer not be favourable to my ardent desires, I declare to you that I shall instantly leave the country, to avoid the imputation of having co-operated toward an invasion on this point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest secure in the acquittal of my own conscience." The governor, to whom the entire correspondence was for- warded, submitted it to a council of the principal officers of the army, navy, and militia ; they recommended no intercourse nor correspondence whatever with any of the people. Governor Claiborne alone dissented. One of the many Lafitte episodes, transmitted througli feminine memories of the time, may be inserted here. It was related by a grandmother, whose grandmother lived on a plantation through which Lafitte, called by ' her a Jltbustier, always passed on his route between Bara- taria and New Orleans : and he seldom passed without taking supper with Madame : " I assure you he was a fascinating gentleman of fine appearance, and although described by the Americans as a pirate, was in reality a privateer, furnished with letters of marque from the French government. The fact that my grandmother received him as a friend, is a sufficient answer to any doubts as to his qualifications. The very day of Clai- borne's proclamation putting a price upon Lafitte's liead, in fact it was a reward for his arrest, he made his appearance at the plantation of my grandmother. She, with extreme agitation and anxiety, told him of the governor's act. 'You must not go to the city. You must return at once after supper. Your life, 1 tell you it's your life that is in danger.' Lafitte laughed her fears to scorn. In the midst of her arguments and his gay expostulations, the servant announced another ar- 204 NEW ORLEANS. rival, another guest. My grandmother turned her head, and at the instant was embraced by her most intimate friend, Mrs. Claiborne, the wife of the gov- ernor, the most beautiful of Creoles, the most coquet- tish, the most charming woman in the city. In great perplexity, but conquering nevertheless all traces of it, my grandmother, with quick presence of mind, introduced Monsieur Lafitte as Monsieur Clement, and then hurriedly went out of the room, leaving her guests together. She called Henriette, her confidential ser- vant. ' Henriette,' she said, looking straight into the eyes of the devoted negress, 'Henriette, Governor Clai- borne has put a price upon M. Lafitte's head. Any one who takes him prisoner and carries him to the gov- ernor will receive live hundred dollars, and M. Lafitte's head will be cut off. Send all the other servants away, all the children. Do you set the table and wait upon us yourself alone, and remember to call Monsieur Lafitte Monsieur Clement — Monsieur Clement, and be careful before Madame Claiborne.' The woman re- sponded as was expected of her, and acted with perfect tact and discretion. " The supper passed off brilliantly. The beautiful, fascinating woman instantaneously made an impression on the no less handsome and fascinating man, who never appeared bolder, more original, more sure of himself. The repartees were sparkling, the laughter continuous, the conversation full of entrain^ and so pleasing to both as to render them oblivious of all my grandmother's efforts to put an end to the meal. And afterwards she could not separate the new ac- quaintances until late bedtime. " ' My friend,' she then said to Lafitte, ' return, NEW ORLEANS. 205 return immediatel3^ Indeed, jour life; is in danger. Go where you can defend yourself.'*" I^afitte pronnsed and took his leave, but it was always supposed that lie spent the night on the plan- tation, held by the glamour of the presence of the wife of the governor, his great enemy. The next day, Madame Claiborne returned to the city, voluble in praise of the most remarkable man she had ever met as she called him. She was sitting in her boudoir, which opened on the corridor leading into her husband's office, when raising her eyes from her sewing at the sound of a step, she there saw passing the object of her thoughts, her conquest of the even- ing before. "Ah! Monsieur, I am charmed to meet you. ..." After a moment's effusion on both sides, he asked permission to go into her husband's office. ''Certainly, Monsieur, certainly." She led the way herself, and, piqued by curiosity, she remained not out of eyesight or earshot of the interview. On crossing the threshold, Lafitte put his hands to a concealed belt, and drew two pistols, cocked them, and holding them in readiness, introduced him- self : — "Sir, I am Lafitte." "Sir. . . ." " One moment. Sir. You have put a price ui)on my head." " Upon the head of a pirate." " Wait, Sir, I have come voluntarily to you, to make a personal offer of my services in repelling the British. I have a company of men, brave, disciplined, armed, and true to the death. Will the State accept of their services against the enemy or not ? " 206 NEW OB LEANS. The governor looked at the man, and considered. Madame CUaiborne who, as yon may believe, had rushed in from the corridor, was standing by her husband, darting her brilliant black eyes anxiously from his face to that of her handsome conquest. " Sir," said the governor, "I accept." " The men. Sir, will at daylight to-morrow be await- ing your orders at Madame 's plantation." Saluting deferentially, he walked proudly out of the room. At that very time, as it happened, the national government had at last managed to organize an expe- dition against Barataria, which had some prospect of success. It was commanded by Commodore Patterson of the U. S. Navy, and Colonel Ross, of the army, stationed at New Orleans, awaiting the British inva- sion, and they, the gossip goes, were lured to energy by the glittering booty of gold and silver and precious treasures known to be at the pirates' retreat. Supposing that the military and naval preparations were intended for the British, the Baratarians were for once completely surprised. Only the two Lafittes and a few followers escaped, fleeing to the German coast, where they found refuge. The settlement at Barataria was destroyed, and the two United States oflicers returned to New Orleans in triumph, with a large number of prisoners, who were lodged in the Cala- boose, and a fleet of vessels loaded with the rich spoils, which they claimed as prizes. In the booty was some jewelry which was identified as the property of a Creole lady who had sailed from New Orleans seven years before, and had never been heard of after- wards. This circumstantial evidence was the only NEW ORLEANS. 207 proof ever produced that a rigid line liad not always been drawn between piracy and privateering by the Haratarians. When Lafitte's letters, (hKuinients, and offer were forwarded to General Jackson, then at Mobile, he spurned them with scorn, having already by procla- mation denounced the Jiritish for their overtures to "robbers, pirates, and hellish bandits." Nevertheless, on the (Tcneral's arrival in New Orleans, Jean Lafitte waited on him in person, and firmly renewed his offer. Uy this time Jackson was conscious of the feebleness of the resources at hand to defend the country, and the strength of the armament coming against it ; and he saw the man. The offer was accepted. Jackson's gen- eral oiders of the 21st of January, 1815, after his vic- tory, give the sequel : — " Captains Dominique and Beluclie, lately commanding priva- teers at Rai'ataria, with part of tlieir former crews . . . were stationed at batteries Nos. 3 and 4. The General cannot avoid giving his warm approbation of the manner in whicli tliese gentlemen have uniformly conducted themselves while under liis command, and the gallantry with which they redeemed the pledge tliey gave at the opening of the campaign, to defend the country. 'I'lie lirothers Latitte have exhibited th*; same courage and tidel- il y. and tiie (Jeneral promises that the government shall be duly appriztMl of their conduct." On the part of the government, so apprised, the President, in his message on the IJattle of New Orleans, issued a full and free pardon "to the viola- tors of revenue, trade, and commerce by the inhabitants of the Island of Barataria," concluding handsomely, as became the President of the United States after so glorious a victory: — 208 NEW OB LEANS. ¥/m " offenders who liave refused to become the associates of the enemy in war upon the most seducing terms of invitation, and who liave aided to repel his hostile invasion of the terri- tory of the United States, can no longer be considered as objects of punishment, but as objects of generous forgiveness." During the rejoicings and festivities over tlie victory the two Lafittes made a hist brief appearance in tlie social life of the city, in token of which there are two anecdotes. In an affair of honour between two noted citizens, Pierre Lafitte was selected as the second by the one, M. de St. Geme by the other. The latter, who liad distinguished himself during tlie re- cent campaign as captain of one of the Creole companies, had no social supe- rior in the city, and on points of honour was looked upon by the whole population as a Chevalier Bayard. His consenting, therefore, to act with Lafitte, w\as accepted as recognition ample and complete, of the hitter's social rehabilitation. At a ball given by the officers of the army, General t/offee and Jean Lafitte were both among the guests. On their being brought together and introduced. General Coffee showed some uncer- tainty, or hesitation, of manner. The Baratarian, lifting his head and ad- JSEW Oh' LEANS. 209 vaiicing liuuglitily, repeutecl with empluisis, '• Lufitte, the pirate." At this propitious moment, the Lafittes left New Orleans forever, and nothing so well as this leaving" of it proves their verbal assurances of love for the city, and their desire to stand well in the estimation of tlie community. They formed a settlement at Galvezton, and, under letters of marque from some South Amer- ican state, they preyed, for a brief space, right roy- ally upon the commerce of Spain. Summoned by tlu' United States to produce the national authority l)y whicli he occupied the harl)()ur of (lalvezlon, Lafitl(! answered that he had found the pcn-t abandoned, and had taken possession of it with the idea of preserving and maintaining it at his own cost. His words are n(jt unworthy quotation : — " \u so doing I was satisfying tlio t^\'o jiassious which impe- riously predominate in me; tliat of offering an asylum to tlie armed vessels of the party of independence, and of placing myself in position (considering its proximity to tlio V. 8.) to fly to tlicir assistance sliould circumstances demand it. . . . I know. Sir, that I liavc been calumniated in the vilest manner by persons in- vested with certain authority, but, fortified by a conscience which is irreproacliable in every resi^ect, my internal trancpiility has not been affected, and, in spite of my enemies, I shall obtain the justice due me." Shortly afterwards, a United States cruiser having l)een attacked in the Gulf and robhed'of a large sum of money, the Galvezton settlement was broken up. Be- yond a stray indication that they were going to attach themselves to the government of Buenos Ayres, noth- ing further is definitely known of the Lafittes. But tradition still cherishes them, and tliere has been no 210 NEW OBLEANS. lack of stories about their after career. Until 1821, pirates were the terror of the Gulf, and every pirate was feared as a Lahtte; and, without any apparent authority whatever, it is still fondly believed that the beautiful Theodosia, the daughter of Aaron Burr, who met an unknown fate in tlie open seas, was made to walk the plank under his command. |VJ''*>veo^ W»r>»i«i^ue>y'oa About 1820, a United States revenue cutter, after a rattling engagement, captured a pirate schooner, with her prize, in the lakes. They were carried through the Bayou St. John, to New Orleans. The crew were tried, and three of them hanged in the Place d'Armes, as the oldest inhabitant of not so long ago saw, and ever afterwards loved to tell about. Dominique You held to his regenerated citizenship NEW OnLEANS. 211 in New Orleans. When Jackson paid Ids ever mem- orable visit to the city seven years after the l^attle, one of his first inquiries was for his friend Dominique, and it is said that no feature of that triumphal re-cele- bration more gratified him than the breakfast given him, with true privateer's hospitality and cheer, by the whilom "'hellish bandit." When, after a rare old age, Dominique You died, iu' had a funeral procession which, for years, was a local standard for size and impressiveness. His tomb can be seen in one of the St. Louis cemeteries, and if one doubts tlu; virtues, respectability, of Dominique, or (leneral Jackson's esteem for him, one can do no better to fortify one's convictions than make a })ilgrim- age to his toml) and read his epitaph. It is from no less source than Voltaire and '"La Ilenriade: " — " lutrcpide guerriev, siir la terre et sur I'onde, 11 sut, dans cent combats, signaler sa valeur Et ce nouvean Bayard, sans reproche et sans peur Anrait \m sans trembler, voir s'ecroiiler le monde." Captain lieluche, Avho was a Creole by birth, ^lassed into the service of Venezuela, as commander of her navy. The IJaratarians drifted back to their old haunts, became fishermen and oyster men ; and, bandits thougli they ever appeared in face and dress, peddled their (lulf delicacies peaceably enough through the streets of the city to the cry of " Barataria! Rarataria! " Their descendants still live in the " Chenieres," a hardy, iiandsome race of men and women, speaking a strange nuxture of Spanish, Portuguese, and Frencli. Over and over again, cyclonic Gulf storms have swept them 212 NEW on LEANS. with their habitations, a wikl ruin of drift and corpses, far out into the Gulf ; and over and over again they have seemed to resurrect ; a year or two and Barataria wouki be once more peopled and rebuilt. Lafcadio Hearn describes the Grand Terre of to-day, " a wilderness of wind-swept grasses and sinewy reeds waving away from a thin beach, ever speckled with drift and decaying things ; — wormriddled timbers and dead porpoises. Sometimes, of Autumn evenings, when the hollow of heaven flares like the interior of a chalice, and waves and clouds are flying in one wild rout of In'oken gold, you may see the tawny grasses all covered with something like husks. . . . But if you approach, those pale husks will break open to display strange splendoui's of scarlet and seal brown with arabesque mottlings in white and black ; they change into won- drous living blossoms, which , . . rise in the air and flutter away by thousands to settle down farther off, and turn again into wheat-covered husks once more . . . a whirling flower drift of sleepy butterflies." CHAPTER XL THE GLORIOUS EIGHTH OF JANUARY. TN the early summer of 1814, the reverberating news -*- oi" the fall of Napoleon Bonaparte, and of his abdi- cation at Fontainebleau, shook the city to its founda- tions ; and the first instinctive impulse of the people was a passionate outbreak of love to the mother coun- try. The city became French as it had not been since the days of Ulloa, Popular feeling frenzied and raved in talk. In the family, in the coffee-houses, in the new exchanges, the refugees from every nation and every political party, the new Americans and the ancient Louisiauians, as they were called, assend)led in their different coteries, to throw, very much as they do now, 213 214 NEW OBLEANS. their tempers, prejudices, and passions into political opinions. There was no doubt that victorious England, her hands at last liljerated, would give the United States a demonstration more characteristic of her military ability than she had exhibited up to this time in the war between them. The report came that, as a condi- tion of peace with France, England would demand the retrocession of Louisiana to Spain, who had indignantly protested at Napoleon's sharp sale of it to the United States ; and, trailing after this report, came from Spanish officers in Havana and Pensacola, to friends in Louisiana, and even from the governor of Pensacola, and from the Spanish minister in Washington, expres- sions of belief that Spain would take up arms to re- possess herself of her former colony. Hardly had this been digested colloquially, when tidings arrived of the presence of British shi]is in the Gulf, and the landing of British regulars at Pensacola and Apalachicola, where, with the passive, if not active, assistance of the Spanish authorities, they were rallying the Indians, enlisting and uniforming them into com- panies. Then came Lafitte's communications from Barataria. It must be acknowledged, if ever there Avere dreams to give a city pause, New Orleans had them then and there. Even now one is chary of publishing all the national weaknesses that, in this crucial moment, the city's examination of conscience revealed. There were no friends of England in the connnunity, but there were many and ardent ones of Spain, and as for the French Creoles, tlie United States had been at best, in their eyes, but a churlish and grudging stepmother to NEW ORLEANS. 215 Louisiana, apparently intent only on getting back the worth of her money paid for the colony. And besides, the government at Washington, with its Capitol burnt and its neighbourhood ravaged by a force not one-fourth as large as the one preparing against New Orleans, offered anything but an inspiring example. And there was slavery. The English, by a mere proclamation of emancipation, could array inside the State against the whites an e(pial numl)er of blacks and produce a situation from which tlie stoutest hearts recoiled in dismay. Tlie neiglibouring South was too weak in j)opulation and resources to count upon for any apprcv ciable help. There was only the one hope, but it was a good one, in the West, the brawny, indomitable West ! So long as the Mississippi flowed tlirough its great valley to the Gulf, New Orleans felt confident that the West would never leave her without a com- panion in arms to fight against foreign subjugation. The federal government stationed four companies of regulars in the city, ordered out the full quota of the militia of the State, one thousand men, to be held in readiness, put Commodore Patterson in charge of tlie naval defences, and appointed Major-General Andrew Jackson to take command in the threatened section. After that, it washed its hands of the whole affair. In September the British opened their campaign, as the military quidnuncs in the city had predicted they would, by an attack upon Fort Bowyer, which, if taken, would give them command of Mobile Bay, a solid posi- tion on the Gulf, and an invaluable basis of operation against New Orleiins. But the new general-comman- dant, who, so far from being a military quidnunc, had only the military training of rough and tumble, hand- 216 NEW OBLEANS. to-hand fighting witli Indians, forestalled the design of the British with all the prescience of the most practised tactician. He threw a liandful of men into Fort Bow- yer, one hundred and thirty, with twenty pieces of cannon, and these held it against the four British ships, with their ninety guns and the six hundred marines, and regulars, and two hundred Indians that came against it. The elated Jackson sent the news of this success from Mobile with two ringing proclamations to the Louisian- ians, one to the white and one to the free coloured population, treating his foes with fine and most inspir- ing contempt: — " The base, perfidious Britons have attempted to invade your country. They had the temerity to attack Fort Bowyer with their incongruous horde of Indians, negroes, and assassins ; they seem to have forgotten that NEW on LEANS. 217 this fort was defended by free men," etc., etc. After which, to give the Spaniards a lesson in the Laws of neutrality, he attacked and took Pensacola. It was on the morning of the 2nd of December, 1814, as our preferred chronicler of this period, Alexander Walker, relates that General Jackson and escort trotted their horses up the road that leads from Spanish Fort to the city. On arriving at the junction of Canal Caron- delet and Bayou St. John, the party dismounted before an old Spanish villa, the residence of one of the promi- nent bachelor citizens of the day, where, in the marble- paved hall, breakfast had been prepared for them ; a breakfast such as luxury then could command from Creole markets and cooks, for a guest wliom one wished to honour. But, the story goes, the guest of lionour partook, and that sparingly, only of hominy. This reached a certain limit of endurance. At a whisper from a servant, the host excused himself, left the table and passed into the antechamber. He was accosted by his fair friend and neighbour, wlio had volunteered her assistance for the occasion. "Ah, my friend, how could you play such a trick upon me? You asked me to prepare your house to receive a great general. I did so. And I prepared a splendid breakfast. And now ! I find that my la])our is all thrown away upon an old ' Kaintuck ' flatboatman, instead of a great general with plumes, epaulettes, long sword, and moustache." Indeed, to female eyes, trained upon a Galvez, a Carondelet, a Casa Calvo, Andrew Jackson must liave represented indeed a very unsatisfactory commandant- general. His dress, a small leathern cap, a short blue Spanish cloak, frayed trousers, worn and rusty high- 218 NEW ORLEANS. toj-) boots, was deficient ; and, even for a flatboatman, threadbare. But his personality, to equitable female eyes, should have been impressive, if not pleasing: a tall, gaunt, inflexibly erect figure; a face sallow, it is true, and seamed and wrinkled with the burden of heavy thought, but expressing to the full the stern decision and restless energy Avhich seemed the very soul of the man ; heavy brows shaded his fierce, bright eyes, and iron-grey hair bristled thick over his head. From the villa the party trotted up the Bayou road to its intersection with the city, where stood a famous landmark in old times, the residence of General Daniel Clarke, a great American in the business and political world of the time. Here carriages awaited them and a formal delegation of welcome, all the notabilities, civil and military, the city afforded, headed by Governor Claiborne and the mayor of the city, a group Avhich, measured by after achievements, could not be considered inconsiderable either in number or character. General Jackson, who talked as he fought, by nature, and had as much use for fine words as for fine clothes, answered the stately eloquence addressed him, briefly and to the point. He had come to. protect the cit}^, and he would drive the enemy into the sea or perish in the attempt;^ It was the eloquence for the people and the time. As an interpreter repeated the words in French, they passed from lip to lip, rousing all the energy they conveyed. They sped with Jackson's carriage, into the city, where heroism has ever been most infectious, and the crowd that ran after him through the streets, to see him alight, and to cheer the flag unfurled from his headquarters on Royal street, expressed not so much the conviction that the saviour NE]V ORLEANS 219 of the city was there in that house, as that the saviour of the city was there, in every man's soul. That evening the "Kaintuck" flatboatman was again subjected to the ordeal of woman's eyes. A dinner party of the most fashionable society had already assembled at a prominent and distinguished house, when the host announced to his wife that he had invited General Jackson to join them. She, as related by a descendant, did what she could uiuler the trying cir- cumstances, and so well prepared her guests for the unexpected addition to their party, that the ladies kept their eyes fixed upon the door, with the liveliest curiosity, expecting to see it admit nothing less than some wild man of the woods, some curious specimen of American Indian, in uniform. When it opened and General Jackson entered, grave, self-possessed, martial, url)ane, their astonishment was not to be gauged. When the dinner was over and he had taken his leave, the ladies all exclaimed, with one impulse, to the hostess : " Is this your red Indian ! Is this your wild man of the Avoods ! He is a prince." From now on the city was transformed into a martial camp. Every man capable of bearing arms was mus- tered into service. All the French emigres in the com- numity volunteered in the ranks, only too eager for an- other cliance at the English. Prisoners in the Calaboose were released and armed. To the old original fine com- pany of freemen of colour, another was added, formed of coloured refugees from St. Domingo, men who had sided with the whites in the revolution tlx^re. Lafitte, notwithstanding the breaking up and looting of his estal)lishment at Barataria, made good his offer to the State, by gathering his Baratarians from the Calaboose 220 NE]V ORLEANS. and their liiding places, and organizing them into two companies under the command of Dominique You and Beluche. From the parishes came hastily gathered volunteers, in companies and singly. The African slaves, catching the infection, laboured with might and main upon the fortifications ordered by Jackson, and even the domestic servants, it is recorded, burnished their masters' arms and prepared ammunition, with the ardour of patriots. The old men were formed into a home guard and given the patrol of the city. Martial law was proclaimed. The reinforcements from the neighbouring territories arrived : a fine troop of horse from Mississippi, under the gallant Hinds ; and Coffee, with his ever-to-be-remembered brigade of "Dirty Sliirts," who after a march of eight hundred miles answered Jackson's message to hasten, by covering in two days the one hundred and fifty miles from Baton Rouge to New Orleans. At the levee, barges and flat- boats landed the militia of Tennessee, under Carroll, On the 10th of December, eight days after Jackson's arrival in the city, the British fleet entered Lake Borgne. In the harbour of Ship Island, in the pass between it and Cat Island, out to Chandeleur Islands, as far as the spyglass could carry, the eye of the look-out saw, and saw British sails. Never before had so august a visita- tion honoured these distant waters. The very names of the ships and of their commanders were enough to create a panic. The Tonnant, the heroic Tonnant, of eighty guns, captured from the French at the battle of the Nile, with Vice-Admiral Sir Alexander Cochrane and Rear- Admiral Codrington ; the Royal Oak, seventy-four guns, Rear-Admiral Malcolm ; the Ramilies, under Sir Thomas Hardy, Nelson's friend ; the Norge, the Bed- NEW OULEANS. 221 lord, the Asia, all seventy-four gunners; the Arniide, Sir Thomas Trowln-idge; the Sea Morse, Sir James Alexander Gordon, fresh from the hanks of the Poto- mac, — there were fifty sail, in all carrying over a thou- sand guns, commanded by the elite of the British navy, steered by West Indian pilots, followed by a smaller fleet of transports, sloops, and schooners. It seemed only proper that with such ships and such an army as the ships carried, a full and complete list of civil oihcers should be sent out, to conduct the government of the country to be annexed to His Majesty's Domin- ions, — revenue collectors, printers, clerks, with print- ing })resses and office paraphernalia. Merchant ships accompanied the squadron to carry home the spoils ; and even many ladies, wives of the officers, came along to share in the glory and pleasure- of the expedition. "I expect at this moment," remarked Lord Castlereagh, in Paris, almost at the exact date, "that most of the large sea-port towns of America are laid in ashes, tliat we are in possession of New Orleans, and have command of all the rivers of the Mississippi Valley and the Lakes, and that the Americans are now little better than pris- oners in their own country." The city must indeed have appeared practically de- fenceless to any foe minded to take it. There was no fortification, properly speaking, at the Balise. Fort St. Philip, on the river, below the city, was small, out of repair, badly equipped and poorly munitioned. 15a ek of the city there was pretty, picturesque, Spanish Fort, a military bauble ; a hasty battery had been thrown u]) where l>ayou Chef Menteur joins lUiyou (ientilly, and further out, on the Rigolets, was the little mud fort of Petites Coquilles (now Fort Pike). As 222 NEW ORLEANS. every bayou from lake to river was, in high water, a high road to the city, these had been closed and rafted by order of the government, and, by the same token, Bayou Manchac has remained closed ever since. Vice-Admiral Cochrane promptly commenced his pro- gramme. Forty-five launches and barges, armed with carronades and manned by a thousand soldiers and sailors, were sent to clear the lakes of the American flag. What the Americans called their fleet on the lakes consisted of six small gunboats, carrying thirty-five guns, commanded by Lieutenant T. Ap Catesby Jones. These had been sent by Commodore Patterson to ob- serve the English fleet, and prevent, if possible, the landing of their troops. If pressed by a superior force, they were to fall back through the Rigolets, upon Fort Petites Coquilles. In obeying his orders, Jones in vain tried to beat through the Rigolets, with the current against him ; his boats were carried into the narrow channel between Malheureux Island and Point Clear, where they stuck in the mud. Jones anchored there- fore in as close line as he could across the channel, and after a spirited address to his force of one hundred and eighty-two men, awaited the attack. It was about ten o'clock of a beautiful December morning. The early fog lifted to show the P>ritish halting for breakfast, gay, careless, and light-hearted as if on a picnic party. The surface of the lake was without a ripple, the blue heavens without a cloud. At a signal the advance was resumed. On the flotilla came in the beautiful order and in the perfect line and time with which the sturdy English oarsmen had pulled it through the thirty-six miles Avithout pause or break, from Ship Island, each boat with its glittering brass uYEW ORLEANS. 223 caiTonade at its prow, its serried files of scarlet mu- forins and dazzling crest of bayonets, and tlie six oars on each side, flashing in and ont of the water. The American boats lay silent, quiet, apparently life- less. Then, a Hash, a roar, and a shot went crashing through the scarlet line. With an answer from their carronades, the British barges leaped forward, and (flinched with the gunboats. It was musket to mushet, pistol to pistol, cutlass to cutlass, man to man, with shouts and cries, taunts and imprecations, and the steady roar throughout of the American cannon, cut- ling with deadly aim into the open I>ritish barges, cai)sizing, sinking them; the water si)otting with strug- gling red uniforms. Two of the American boats were captured, and their guns turned against the others, and the British barges closing in, the American crews one by one were beaten l)elow their own decks and overpowered. By half-])ast twelve the British flag waved triumphant over Lake Horgne. The British troops Avere forAvarded in transports from the fleet to the He des Pois, near the mouth of Pearl River, a l)are little island and a desolate camp, where, with no tents, the men were drenched with dew, and cliilled with frosts during the night, and, during the day, parched with the sun ; many died from it. From some iisherman it was learned that about fifty miles west of He aux Pois there was a bayou that had not been closed and was not defended and which was navigable by barges for twelve miles, where it joined a canal, leading to a plantation on the river, a few miles below the city. To test the accuracy of the information. Sir Alexander Cochrane despatched a boat under charge of 224 NEW ORLEANS. the Hon. Captain Spencer, son of the Earl of Spencer, to reconnoitre the route. Arrived at the Spanish fisher- men's village on the banks of Bayou Bienvenu, the young captain and a companion, disguising themselves in the blue shirts and tarpaulins of fishermen, paddled in a pirogue through the bayou and canal (Villere's), walked to the Mississippi, took a drink of its waters, surveyed the country, interviewed some negroes ; and returned with the report that the route was not only practicable, but easy. Sixteen hundred men and two cannon were embarked immediately for the bayou. The sky was dark and low- ering ; heavy rains fell during the whole day ; the fires of charcoal, which could be kept burning in day- light, were extinguished at night ; and the sharp frost cramped the soldiers into numbness. A detail sent in advance on a reconnoissance surprised and capt- ured four pickets, who were held at the mouth of tlie bayou until the flotilla came up to it. One of tlie prisoners, a C'reole gentleman, was presented to Sir Alexander Cochrane, the British connuander, a rough- looking, white-haired old gentleman, dressed in plain and much worn clothing, and to General Keane, a tall, youthful, black-whiskered man in military un- dress. Their shrewd cross-questioning extracted from the Creole only the false statement that Jackson's forces in the city amounted to twelve thousand men, and that he had stationed four thousand at English Turn. As the untruth had been preconcerted, it was confirmed by the other prisoners, and believed by the British officers. At dawn the barges entered the bayou. The Eng- lish sailors, standing to their oars, pushed their heavy loads through the tortuous shallow water \W nine NEW on LEANS. 225 o'clock the detachment was safe on slioro. '• The place," writes the English authority, an ofiicei- dur- ing the cani])aign, "was as wild as it is possible to imagine, (laze where we might, nothing could be seen except a huge marsh covered with tall reeds. The marsh became gradually less and less continuous, being intersected by wide spots of firm ground ; the reeds gave place by degrees to wood, and the wood to enclosed fields." The troops landed, formed into columns, and, push- ing after the guides and engineers, began their march. The advance was slow and toilsome enough to such novices in swamping. But cypresses, palmettoes, cane brakes, vines, and mire were at last worried through, the sun began to brighten the ground, and the front ranks quickening their step, broke joyfully into an open field, near the expected canal. Beyond a distant orange grove, the buildings of the Villere plantation could be seen. Advancing rapidly along the side of the canal, and under cover of the orange grove, a company gained the buildings, and, spreading out, sur- rounded them. The surprise was absolute. Major Villere and his brother, sitting on the front gallery of their residence, jumped from their chairs at the sight of redcool/S before them ; their rush to the other side of the house only showed them that they were bagged. Secured in one of his own apartments, under guard of British soldiers, the young Creole officer found in his reflections the spur to a desperate attempt to save himself and his race from a suspicion of disloyalty to the ITnited States, which, under the circumstances, might easily be directed against them by the Ameri- cans. Springing suddenly through his guards, and 226 NEW OBLEANS. leaping from a window, he made a rush for the high fence that enchjsed the yard, throwing down tlie soldiers in his way. He cleared the fence at a bound and ran across the open field that separated him from tlie forest. A shower of musket balls fell around him. " Catch or kill him ! " Avas shouted behind him. But the light, agile Creole, with the Creole liunter's training from infancy, was more than a match for his pursuers in such a race as that. He gained the woods, a SAvamp, while they were crossing the field, spreading out as they ran to shut him in. He sprang over the boggy earth, into the swamp, until his feet, sinking deeper and deeper, clogged, and stuck. The Britons were gaining ; had reached the swamp. He could hear them panting and bloAving, and the orders whicli made his capture inevitable. 'J'here was but one chance; he sprang up a cypress tree, and strove for the thick moss and branches overhead. Half-way up, he heard a whim- pering below. It was the voice of his dog, his favourite setter, whining, fawning, and looking up to him with all. the pathos of brute fidelit3\ There was no choice ; it was her life or his, and with liis, perhaps the surprise and capture of the city. Dropping to the earth, he seized a billet of wood, and aimed one blow between tlie setter's devoted eyes ; with the tears in his own eyes, he used to relate. To throw the body to one side, snatch some brush over it, spring to the tree again, was the work of an instant. As he drew the moss around his crouching figure, and stilled his hard breathing, the British floundered past. When they abandoned their useless search, he slid from his covert, pushed through the swamp to the next plantation, and carried the alarm at full speed to the city. NEW ORLEANS. 227 The British troops moved up the road along' the levee, to the upper line of the plantation, and took their position in three columns. Headquarters were established in the Villere residence, in the yard of which a small battery was thrown up. They were eight miles from the city and separated from it by fif- teen plantations, large and small. By pushing forward, General Keane in two hours could have reached the city, and the battle of New Orleans would have taken place then and there, and most probably a different decision would have been wrested from victory. The British officers strongly urged this bold line of action, l)nt Keane believing the statement that General Jackson had an army of about fifteen thousand in New Orleans, a force double his own, feared being cut oft' from the fleet. He therefore concluded to delay his advance until the other divisions came up. This was on the twenty-third day of December. "Gentlemen," said Jackson to his aids and secretaries, at half-past one o'clock, when Villere had finished his report, "the British are below ; we must fight them to-night." He issued his orders summoning his small force from their various posts. Plauche's battalion was two miles away, at Bayou St. John, Coffee five miles off, at Avart's, the coloured battalion, at Gentilly. They were commanded to proceed immediately to Montreuil's plan- tation below the city, Avhere they Avould be joined by the regulars. (Commodore Patterson was directed to get tiie gunboat " Carolina " under way. As the Cathedral clock was striking three, from every (piarter of the city troops were seen coming at a qnickste[) through the streets, each company with its own vernacular music, 228 NEW ORLEANS. Yankee Doodle, La Marseillaise, Le Chant du Depart. The ladies and children crowded the balconies and win- dows to wave handkerchiefs and applaud ; the old men stood upon the banquettes waving their hats and with more sorrow in eyes and heart over their impotence than age had ever yet wrung from them. Jackson, on horseback, with the regulars drawn up at his right, waited at the gate of Fort St. Charles to review the troops as they passed. The artillery were already below, in possession of the road. The first to march down after them were Beale's rifles, or, as New Orleans calls them, Beale's famous rifles, in their blue hunting shirts and citizens' hats, their long bores over their shoulders, sharp-shooters and picked shots every one of them, all young, active, intelligent volunteers, from the best in the professional and busi- ness circles, asking but one favour, the post of danger. At a hand gallop, and with a cloud of dust, came Hinds's dragoons, delighting General Jackson by their gallant, dare-devil bearing. After them Jackson's companion in arms, the great Coffee, trotted at the head of his mounted gun-men, with their long hair and unshaved faces, in dingy woolen hunting shirts, copperas dyed trousers, coonskin caps, and leather belts stuck with hunting knives and tomahawks. " Forward at a gallop ! " was Coffee's order, after a word with General Jackson, and so they disappeared. Through a side street marched a gay, varied mass of colour, men all of a size, but some mere boys in age, with the handsome, regular features, flashing eyes and unmistakable martial bearing of the French. "Ah! Here come the brave Creoles," cries Jackson, and Plauche's battalion, which had come in on a run from Bayou St. John, stepped gallantly by. NEW ORLEANS. 229 And after these, under their white commander, defiled the Freemen of colour, and then passed down the road a band of a hundred Choctaw Indians in their war paint ; last of all, the Regulars. Jackson still waited until a small dark schooner left the opposite bank of the river and slowly moved down the current. This was the " Carolina," under Commodore Patterson. Then Jackson clapped spurs to his horse, and, followed by his aids, galloped after his army. The veteran corps took the patrol of the now deserted streets. The ladies retired from balcony and window, with their brave smiles and fluttering handkerchiefs, and, hastening to their respective posts, assembled in coteries to prei)are lint and bandages, and cut and sew, for many of their defenders and Jackson's warriors had landed on the levee in a ragged if not destitute condition. Before Jackson left Fort St. Charles, a message had been sent to him from one of these coteries, asking what they were to do in case the city was attacked. "• Say to the ladies," he replied, " not to be uneasy. No British soldier shall ever enter the city as an enemy, unless over my dead body." As the rumoured war-cry of the British was " Beauty and Booty," many of the ladies, besides thimbles and needles, had })rovided themselves with small daggers, which they wore in their belts. Here it is the custom of local pride to pause and enumerate the foes set in array against the men hasten- ing down the levee road. First, always, there was that model regiment, the Ninety-third Highlanders, in their bright tartans and kilts, men chosen for stature and strength, whose broad breasts, Avide shoulders, and stalwart figures, 230 NEW ORLEANS. widened their ranks into a formidable appearance. The Prince of Orange and his staff liad journeyed from London to Plymouth to review them before they embarked. Then there were six companies of the Ninety -fifth Rifles ; the famous Rifle Brigade of the Peninsular Campaign ; the Fourteenth Regiment, the Duchess of York's Light Dragoons ; two West Indian regiments, with artillery, rocket brigade, sapper and en- gineer corps — in all, four thousand three hundred men, under command of Major-General John Keane, a young officer whose past reputation for daring and gallantry has been proudly kept bright by the traditions of his New Orleans foes. To these were added General Ross's three thousand men, fresh from their brilliant Baltimore and Washington raid. Choice troops they were, the gallant and distinguished Fourth, or King's Own, the Forty-fourth, East Essex Foot, the Eighty-fifth, Buck Volunteers, commanded by one of the most brilliant officers in the British service. Col. William Thornton ; the twenty-first Royal, North British Fusileers, — with the exception of the Black Regiments and the High- landers, all tried veterans, who had fought with Wel- lington through his Peninsular campaign from the beginning to his triumphant entry into France. Only the first boat loads, eighteen hundred men, were in Villere's field on the afternoon of the twenty-third. They lay around their bivouac fires, about two hun- dred yards from the levee, enjoying their rest and the digestion of the bountiful supper of fresh meat, poul- try, milk, eggs, and delicacies, which had been added to their rations by a prompt raid on the neighbouring plantations. General Keane and Colonel Thornton paced the gallery of the Villere house, glancing at each NE]V OBLEANS. 231 turn towards the wood, for the sight of the coming of the next division of the army. The only hostile demonstration during the afternoon had been the tiring of the outpost upon a reeonnoitering squad of dragoons and a bold dash down the road of a detachment of Hinds's horsemen, who, after a cool, impudent survey of the British camp, had galloped away again under a volley from the Rifles. Darkness gathered over the scene. The sentinels were doubled, and officers walked their rounds in watchful anxiety. About seven o'clock some of them observed a boat stealing slowly down the river. From lier careless approach, they thought she must be one of their own cruisers which had passed the forts below and was returning from a reconnoissance of the river. She answered neither hail nor musket shot, but steered steadily on, veering in close ashore until her broadside Avas abreast of the camp. Then her anchor was let loose, and a loud voice was heard : " Give them this, for the honour of America." A flash lighted the dark hulk, and a tornado of grape and musket shot swept the levee and field. It was the " Carolina " and Com- modore Patterson ; volley after volley followed with deadly rapidity and precision ; the sudden and terrible havoc threw the camp into blind disorder. The men ran wildly to and fro, seeking shelter until Thornton ordered them to get under cover of the levee. There, according to the British version, they lay for an hour. The night was so black that not an object could be dis- tinguished at the distance of a yard. The bivouac fires, beat about by the enemy's shot, burned red and dull in the deserted camp. A straggling fire of musketry in the direction of the 232 NEW ORLEANS. pickets gave warning of a closer struggle. It paused a few moments, then a fearful yell, and the whole heavens seemed ablaze with musketry. The British thought themselves surrounded. Two regiments flew to support the pickets, another, forming in close column, stole to the rear of the encampment and remained there as a reserve. After that, all order, all discipline, Avere lost. Each ofhcer, as he succeeded in collecting twenty or thirty men about him, plunged into the American ranks, and began the fight that Pakenham reported as : " A more extraordinary conflict has, perhaps, never occurred, absolutely liand to hand, both ofiicers and men." Jackson had marshaled his men along the line of a plantation canal (the Rodriguez Canal), about two miles from the British. He himself led the attack on their left. Coffee, with the Tennesseeans, Hinds's dragoons, and Beale's rifles, skirting along the edge of the swamp, made the assault on their right. The broadside from the " Carolina " was the signal to start. It was on the right that the fiercest fighting was done. Coffee ordered his men to be sure of their aim, to fire at a short distance, and not to lose a shot. Trained to the rifle from child- hood, the Tennesseeans could fire faster and more surely than any mere soldier could ever hope to do. Wherever they heard the sharp crack of a British rifle, they ad- vanced, and the British were as eager to meet them. The short rifle of the English service proved also no match for the long bore of the Western hunters. When they came to close quarters, neither side having bayo- nets, they clubbed their guns to the ruin of many a fine weapon, liut the canny Tennesseeans rather than risk tlieir rifles, tlieir own property, used for close quarters NEW ORLEANS. 233 their long knives and tomahawks, whose skiltiil han- dling they had learned from the Indians. The second division of British troops, coming up the Bayou, heard the liring, and, pressing forward with all speed, arrived in time to reinforce their right ; but the su- periority in numbers which this gave them was more than offset by the guns of the " Carolina," which maintained their fire during the action, and long after it was over. A heavy fog, as in Homeric times, obscuring the lield and the combatants, put an end to the struggle. Jack- son withdrew his men to Rodriguez Canal, the British fell back to their camp. A number of prisoners were made on both sides. Among the Americans taken were a handful of Ncsw Orleans' most prominent citizens, who were sent to Die fleet at Ship Island. The most distinguished pris- oner made by the Americans was Major Mitchell, of the Ninety-fifth Rifles, and to his intense chagrin he was forced to yield his sword, not to regulars, but to Coffee's uncourtly Tennesseeans. It was this feeling that dictated his answer to Jackson's courteous message requesting that he would make known any requisite for his comfort ; '•'• Return my compliments to General Jackson, and say that as my baggage will reach me in a few days I sliall be able to dispense with his polite attentions." The chronicler of the anecdote ajjtly adds, that had the major persisted in this rash deter- mination, he would never have been in a condition to partake of the hospitalities which were lavished upon him during his detention in New Orleans and Natchez, where the prisoners were sent. On his way to Natchez he became the guest at a plantation famed for its elegance and luxury. At the supper table he met 234 NEW ORLEANS. the daughter of the house, a young Creole girl as charming and accomplished as she was beautiful. Speaking French fluently, he was soon engaged in a lively conversation with her. She mentioned with en- thusiasm a party of Tennesseeans entertained by her father a few days before. Still smarting from his capt- ure, the major could not refrain from saying: "Made- moiselle, I am astonished that one so refined could find pleasure in the society of such rude barbarians." " Major," she replied with glowing face, " I had rather be the wife of one of those hardy, coarsely clad men who have marched two thousand miles to fight for the honour of their country, than wear a coronet." To return to the battlefield. The Rodriguez Canal, with its embankment, formed a i3retty good line of fortifications in itself. Jackson, without the loss of an hour's time, sent to the city for spades and picks, a]id set his army to work deepening the canal and strengthening the embankment. For the latter, any material within reach was used, timber, fence-rails, bales of cotton (which is the origin of the mj'th that he fought behind ramparts of cotton bales). His men, most of tliem handling a spade for the first and last time in their lives, dug as they had fought a few hours before, every stroke aimed to tell. General Jackson established his headquarters in the residence of the Macarty plantation, within two hun- dred yards of his entrenchments. The British passed a miserable night. Not until the last fire was extinguished, and the fog completely veiled the field, did the " Carolina " cease her firing and move to the other side of tlie river. The men, shivering on tlie damp ground, exposed to the cold, NEW ORLEANS. 235 moist atmosphere, with now none but their scant, half- spoiled rations, were depressed and discouraged, and the officers were more anxious and uncertain than ever, and more completely in error as to the force opposed to them. From the intrepidity and boldness of the Americans, they imagined that at least five thousand had been in the field that night. Other observations strengthened this misapprehension; each volunteer company, with its different uniform, represented to military minds so many different regiments, a tenfold multiplication of the Americans. Besides, in the din of commands, cries, and answers, as much French was heard as English. Tlie truth began to dawn upon the British, that, much as the Creoles hated the Americans, tliey were not going to allow a foreign invader to occupy a land which they considered theirs by right of original dis- covery, occupation, and development, whatever might be the flag or form of government over them. The dawning of the twenty-fourth disclosed in the river another vessel, the '^ Louisiana," in position near the " Carolina," and all day the camp lay helpless under their united cannonading. A gloomier Christmastide, as our genial chronicler Walker puts it, could hardly be imagined for the sons of Merrie England. Had it been in the day of the cable, they would have known that their hardships and bloodshed were over, that at that very date, the twenty-fourth of December, the peace that terminated the war between the two con- tending countries was being signed in Ghent. The luiexpected arrival, however, on Christmas day, of the new commander-in-chief. Sir Edward Pakenliam, accom- panied by a distinguished staff, sent through the hearts of the British a thrill of their wonted all-conquering 236 NEW ORLEANS. confidence, and the glad cheers of welcome that greeted Sir Edward from his old companions in arms and veter- ans of the Peninsula rang over into the American camp. Well might Jackson's men, as they heard it, bend with more dogged determination over their spades and picks. Sir Edward Pakenham was too well known in a place so heavily populated from Europe as New Orleans was, not to make the thrill of joy in his own army a thrill of apprehension in an opposing one. It is perhaps from this thrill of apprehension, at that moment in their breasts, that dates the pride of the peo- ple of New Orleans in Pakeidiam, and the affectionate tribute of homage which they always interrupt their account of the glorious eighth to j)ay to him. The son of the Earl of Longford, he came from a family which had been ennobled for its military quali- ties. From his lieutenancy he had won every grade by some perilous service, and generally at the cost of a wound ; few officers, even of that hard-fighting day, had encountered so many perils and hardships, and had so many wounds to show for them. He had fought side by side, with Wellington (who was his brother-in- law) through the Peninsular War ; he headed the storm- ing party at Badajoz ; actually the second man to mount one of the ladders ; and as brigadier of the Old Figlit- ing Third, under Picton, in tlie absence by illness of his chief, he led the charge at Salamanca, which gained the victory for England and won him his knighthood. An earldom and the governorship of Louisiana, it is said, had been promised him as the reward of his American expedition, an expedition which the government had at first seriously contemplated confiding to no less a leader than the Iron Duke himself. NEW OJiLEANS. 237 Sir EdwarcFs practised eye soon toolc in tlie (lillicul ties and embarrassments ot" the liritish position. His conncil ot" war was prolont^ed far into the night, and amono- the anxionsly waiting subalterns outside^ the rumour was whispered that their chief was so dissatisfied after r(;ceiving Keane's full report that he had but little ho})e of success, and that he even thought of withdraw- ing the army and making a fresh attempt in another quarter. lUit the sturd}' veteran Sir Alexander Coch- rane, would hear of no such word as fail. " If the army," he said, "shrinks from the task, I will fetch the sailors and marines from the fleet, and with them storm the American lines and march to the city. The soldiers can then," he added, "-bring up the baggage." Tlie result of the council was the decision, first, to silence the " Carolina " and " Louisiana," then to carry the American lines by storm. All the large cannon that could be spared were ordered from the fleet, and by the night of the twenty-sixth a powerful battery was planted on the levee. The next morning it opened lire on the vessels, which answered with broadsides ; a furious cannonading ensued. Pakenham, standing in full view on the levee, cheered his artillerists. Jackson, from the dormer window of the Macarty mansion, kept his telescope riveted on his boats. The bank of the river above and below the American camp was lined with spectators watching with breathless interest the tempest of cannon balls, bursting shells, hot shot, and rockets l)ouring from levee and gunboats. In half an hour the "Carolina" was struck, took fire, and blew up. 'i'he British gave three loud cheers. The "Louisiana" strained every nerve to get out of reach of the terrible battery now directed full upon her, but with Avind and 238 NEW OliLEANS. current against her she seemed destined to the fate of the " Carolina," when her officers bethought them of towing, and so moved her skiwly up stream. As she dropped her anchors oj^posite the American camp, her crew gave three loud cheers, in defiant answer to tlie British. That evening the British army, in two col- umns, under Keane and Gibbs, moved forward, tlie former by the levee road, the latter under cover of the woods, to within six hundred yards of the American lines, where tliey encamped for the night. But there was little sleep or rest for them. The American rifle- men, with individual enterprise, bushwhacked them without intercession, driving in their outposts and picking off picket after picket, a mode of warfare that the p]nglish, fresh from Continental etiquette, indignantly branded as barbarous. Jackson, with his telescope, had seen from the Ma- carty house the line of Pakenham's action, and set to work to resist it, giving his aids a busy night's work. He strengthened his battery on the levee, added a bat- tery to command the road, reinforced his infantry, and cut the levee so that the rising river would flood the road. The Mississippi proved recreant, however, and fell, instead of rising, and the road remained undamaged. The American force now consisted of four thousand men and twenty pieces of artillery, not counting the always formidable guns of the " Louisiana," command- ing the situation from her vantage ground of the river. The British columns held eight thousand men. The morning was clear and frosty ; the sun, breaking through the mists, shone with irradiating splendour. The British ranks advanced briskly in a new elation of spirits after yesterday's success. Keane marched his NEW ORLEANS. 239 column as near the levee as possible, and under screen of the buildings (jf tlie two plantations, Bienvenu's and C'lialniette's, intervening between him and the American line; Gibbs hugged the woods on the right. 'I'lie Ninety-fifth extended across the field, in skirmish- ing order, meeting Keane's men on their right. Pak- eidiam, with his stafT and a guard composed of the 14th Dragoons, rode in the centre of the line so as to com- mand a view of both columns. Just as Keane's column }tassed the Bienvenu buildings, the Chalmette buildings were blown up, and then the general saw, through his glasses, the mouths of Jackson's large cannon com- pletely covering his column, and these guns, as our authority states, were manned as guns are not often manned on hind. Around one of the twenty-four pounders stood a band of red-shirted, bewhiskered, desperate-looking men, begrimed with smoke and uHul ; they were the Baratarians, who had answered -laekson's orders by running in all the way from their fort on Bayou St. John that morning. The other battery was in charge of the practised crew of the destroyed "Carolina." Preceded by a shower of rock- ets, and covered by the fire from their artillery in front and their battery on the levee, the British army advanced, solid, cool, steady, beautiful in the rliythm of their step and the glitter of their uniforms and e(iui])ments, moving as if on dress parade, — to the Amei'icans a display of the beauty and majesty of poAver such as they had never seen. The great guns of the Baratarians and of the crew of tlio "Carolina"' and those of the "Louisiana" flashed forth almost simultaneously, and all struck full in the scarlet ranks. The havoc was terrible. For a time 240 NEW OBLEANS. Keane held his men firm in a vain display of valour, under the pitiless destructive fire, no shot or })ullet miss- ing its aim or falling short. Then the Americans saw the heaving columns change to a thin red streak, wliicli disappeared from view as under the wand of an en- chanter, the men dropping into the ditches, burying head and shoulders in the rushes on the banks. Pak- enham's face grew dark and gloomy at the sight. Never before, it is said, had a British soldier in his presence quailed before an enemy or sought cover from a fire. Gibbs had fared no Ijetter. He who had led the storming party against Fort Cornelius, who had scaled the parapets of Badajoz and the walls of St. Sebastian, could not but despise the low levee and the narrow ditch of the American fortifications ; but after one ineffectual dash at the enemy's lines, his men could be brought to accomplish nothing, remaining inactive in the shelter of the woods until ordered to retire. As the American batteries continued to sweep the field, the British troops could be withdrawn only by breaking into small squads and so escaping to tlie rear. Sir Thomas Trowbridge, dashing forward with a squad of seamen to the dismounted guns, succeeded, with incred- ible exertion, in tying ropes to them and drawing tliem off. The British army remained on the Bienvenu |)lan- tation. Pakenham and his staff rode back to their headquarters at Villere's. Another council of war was called. Pakenham's depression was now quite evident, but the stout-hearted Cochrane again stood indomitably firm. He showed that their failure thus far was due to the superiority of the American artillery. They must supply this deficiency by bringing more large guns from NEW ORLEANS. 241 the fleet, ami equip a battery strong enough to cope with the few old guns of the Americans. It was suggested that the Americans were intrenched. " So must we be," he replied promptly. It was determined, therefore, to treat the American lines as regular forti- fications, by erecting batteries against them, and so attempting to silence their guns. Three days were con- sumed in the herculean labour of bringing the necessary guns from the fleet. While the l>ritish were thus em- [)loyed, C'onnnodore Patterson constructed a battery on the opposite side of the river, e([uipped it with cannon from the " Louisiana " and manned it by an im- pressment of every nautical-looking character to l)e found in the sailor boarding-houses of New Orleans, gathering together as motley a cor[)S as ever fought under t)ne flag, natives of all countries except Great Britain, speaking every language except that of their commander. On the night of the thirty-first, one-half of the British army marched silently to within about four hundred yards of Jackson's line, where they stacked their arms and went to work with spades and picks under the superintendence of Sir John Burgoyue. The niglit was dark; silence was rigidly enforced; offieers joined in the work, lief ore the dawn of New Year, 1815, there faced the American lines tliree solid demilmies, at nearly ecpial distances apart, armed \\ illi thirty jiioces of heavy ordnance, furnished with ammu- nition for six hours, and served by picked gunners of the fleet, veterans of Nelson and Collingswood. As soon as their work was completed, the British infantry fell back to the rear and awaited anxiously the beginning of operations, ready to take advantage of the expected 242 NEW ORLEANS. breach in the American works. The sailors and artil- lerists stood with lighted matches behind their redonbts. A heavy fog hung over the field, so that neither army could see twenty yards ahead. In the American camp, a grand parade had been ordered. At an early liour the troops were astir, in holiday cleanliness and neat- ness. The different bands sounded their bravest strains ; the various standards of the regiments and companies fluttered gaily in the breeze. The British had one glance at it, as the fog rolled up, and then their cannon craslied through the scene. For a moment the American camp trembled, and there was confusion, not of panic, but of men rushing to their assigned posts. By the time the British smoke cleared every man was in his place, and as the British batteries came into view their answer was ready for them. Jackson strode down the 'line, stopping at each battery, waving his cap as the men cheered him. During the fierce cannonade the cotton bales in the American breastworks caught fire, and there was a moment of serious peril to that part of the line, but they were dragged out and cast into tlie ti-encli. The English were no happier in their use of hogsheads of sugar in their redoubts, the cannon balls perforating them easily and demolishing them. In an hour and a half the British fire began to slacken, and as the smoke lifted it was seen that their entrenchments were beaten in, the guns exposed, and the gunners badly thinned. Not long after their bat- teries were completely silenced and their parapets levelled with the plain. The British battery on the levee had, with their hot shot, kept the " Louisiana " at a distance, but now the Americans turning their atten- NEW OB LEANS. 243 tion to it, that battery was riidiicod to the same con- dition as the redoubts. The J<]nglish army again retired, baffled, and during the night, such of their guns as had not been destroyed w ere removed. Tlie sohliers did not conceal their dis- couragement. For two whole da3's and nights there had been no rest in cam}), except for those that were cool enough to sleej) in a shower of cannon balls. From (he general down to the meanest sentinel, all had suffered in tlie severe strain of fatigue. They saw that they were greatly overmatched in artillery, their provisions were scant and coarse, they had, properly s[)eaki ng, no rest at night, and sickness was beginning to appear. Sir Edward had one more plan, one worthy of his bold character. It was to storm the American lines on both sides of the river, beginning with the right bank, which would enable the British to turn the conquered batteries on Jackson's lines, and drive him from his position and cut him off from the city. I>y the 7th of January, with another heroic exertion, V'illere's Canal was prolonged two miles to the river, and the barges to transport the troops to the other I yank carried through. During the delay a reinforce- ment arrived, two tine regiments, Pakenliam\s own, tlie Seventh Fusileers, and the Forty-third, under Major-General John l^ambert, also one of Wellington's a])prentices. Pakenham divided his army, now ten thousand strong, into three brigades, under command respectively of Generals Lambert, Gibbs, and Keane. His plan of attack was simj>h>. Colonel Thornton, with fourteen hundred men, was to cross the river during the night of the seventh and steal upon and 244 NEW ORLEANS. carry the American line before day. At a signal to be given by him, Gibbs was to storm tlie American left, whilst General Keane should threaten their right ; Lambert lield the reserve. Jackson steadied himself for what he understood to be the last round in the encounter. He also had received a reinforcement. A few days before, the long expected drafted militia of Kentucky, twenty-two hun- dred men, arrived, but arrived in a condition that made them a questionable addition to his strength. Hurried from their homes without supplies, they had travelled fifteen hundred miles without demur, under the impression that the government would plentifully fur- nish and equip them in New Orleans. Only about a third were armed, Avith old muskets, and nearly all of them were in want of clothing. The poor fellows liad to hold their tattered garments together to hide their nakedness as they marched through the streets. The government of course did nothing. The citizens, acutely moved, raised a sum of sixteen thousand dollars and expended it for blankets and woolens. The latter were distributed among the ladies, and by them, in a few days, made into comfortable garments for their needy defenders. The American force now amounted to about four thousand men on the left bank of the river. One division of it, the right, was commanded by General Ross, the other by General Coffee, whose line extended so far in the swamp that his men stood in the water during the day and at night slept on floating logs made fast to trees ; every man " half a horse and half an alligator," as the song says. The artillery and the fortifications had been carefully strengthened and NEW ORLEANS. 245 repaired. Another line of defence had been prepared a mile and a half in the rear, where were stationed all who were not well armed or were regarded as not able-bodied. A third line, for another stand in case of defeat, still nearer the city, was being vigorously worked upon. Owing to the caving of the banks of the canal, Thornton could get only enough boats launched in the river to carry seven hundred of his men across : these the current of the jNIississippi bore a mile and a half below the landing-place selected, and it was daylight before they reached there. Gibbs and Keane mai'died their divisions to within sight of the dark line of the American breastworks, and waited impatiently for the signal of Thornton's guns. Not a sound could be heard from him. In fact he had not yet landed his men. Although sensible that concert of action with the troops on the right bank liad failed, and that his movement was hopelessly crippled, Pakenham, obstinate, gallant, and reckless, would, nevertheless, not rescind his first orders. When the morning mists lifted, his columns were in motion across the field. (libbs was leading his division coolly and steadily through the grape-shot pouring upon it, when it began to be whispered among the men that the Forty-fourth, who were detailed for the duty, had not brought the ladders and fascines. Pakenham riding to the front and finding it was true, ordered Colonel Mullen and the delinquent regiment back for them. In the con- fusion and delay, with his brave men falling all around Iiini, tlie indignant Gibbs exclaimed furiously: "Let me live until to-morrow, and I'll hang him to the high- 246 NEW on LEANS. est tree in that swamp ! '' Rather than stand exposed to the terrible tire, lie ordered his men forward. " On they went," says Walker (who got his description from eye-witnesses), "in solid, compact order, the men hur- rahing and the rocketers covering their front with a blaze of combustibles. The American batteries played upon them with awful effect, cutting great lanes tlirough the column from front to rear, opening huge gaps in their flanks. . . . Still the column advanced without pause or recoil, steadily ; then all the batteries in the American line, including Patterson's marine battery on the right bank, joined in hurling a tornado of iron missiles into that serried scarlet column, which shook and oscillated as if tossed on an angry sea. ' Stand to your guns ! ' cried Jackson, ' don't waste ja^ur ammunition, see that every shot tells,' and again, ' Give it to them, boys ! Let us finish the business to- day.'" On the summit of the paraj)et stood the corps of Tennessee sharp-shooters, with their rifles sighted, and behind them, two lines of Kentuckians to take their places so soon as they had fired. The redcoats were now within two hundred yards of the ditch. " Fire ! Fire ! " Carroll's order rang through the lines. It was obeyed, not hurriedly, not excitedly, not confusedly, but calmly and deliberately, the men calculating the range of their guns. Not a shot was thrown away. Nor was it one or several discharges, followed by pauses and interruptions ; it was continuous, the men firing, fall- ing back and advancing, with mechanical precision. The British column began to melt away under it like snow l)efore a torrent ; but Gibbs still led it on, and the gal- lant Peninsula officers, throwing themselves in front, NEW on LEANS. 247 incited and aroused their men by every appeal and l)y the most brilliant examples of courage. " Where are the Forty-fourth," called the men, " with the fascines and ladders? When we get to the ditch we cannot scale the lines! " "Here come the Forty-fourth ! " shouted Gibbs, "Here come the Forty-fourth!" There came, at least, a detachment of the Forty-fourth, with Pak- enham himself at the head, rallying and inspiring them, invoking their heroism in the past, reminding them of their glory in l\g3'i)t and elsewhere, calling them his countrymen, leading them forward, until they breasted the storm of bullets with the rest of the column. At this moment Pakenham's arm was struck by one ball, his horse killed by another. He mounted the small black Creole pony of his aid, and pressed forward. But the column had now reached the physical limit of daring. Most of the officers were cut down; there were not enough left to command. The column broke. Some rushed forward to the ditch ; the rest fell back to the swamp. There they rallied, reformed, and throw- ing off their knapsacks advanced again, and again were beaten back ; their colonel scaling the breastworks and falling dead inside the lines. Keane, judging the moment had come for him to act, now wheeled his line into column and pushed forward with the Ninety-third in front. The gallant, stalwart Highlanders, with their heavy, solid, massive front of a hundred men, their muskets glittering in the morning sun, their tartans waving in the air, strode across the field and into the hell of bullets and cannon balls. "Hurrah! brave Highlanders!" Pakenham cried to them, ^\•avillg liis cap in his left hand. Fired by their intrepidity, the remnant of Gibbs's brigade 248 NEW ORLEANS. once more came up to the charge, with Pakenham on the left and Gibbs on the right. A shot from one of the American big guns crashed into them, killing and wounding all around. Paken- ham's horse fell; he rolled into the arms of an officer who sprang forward to receive him; a grape-shot had passed through his tljigh ; another ball struck him in the groin. He was borne to the rear, and in a few moments breathed liis last under an oak. The bent and twisted, venerable old tree still stands, Pakenhanfs oak, it is called. Gibbs, desperately Avounded, lingered in agony until tlie next day. Keane was carried bleeding off the field. /t {^^ (/ ;«i HhJ **..; .HI Ne»rt;9'e».Hle Orovini There were no field officers now left to command or rally. Major Wilkinson however, — we like to remem- ber his name, — shouting to his men to follow, passed the ditch, climbed up the breastworks, and was raising his head and shoulders over the parapet, when a dozen guns pointed against him riddled him with bullets. His mutilated body was carried through the Ameri- can lines, followed by murmurs of sympathy and regret from the Tennesseeans and Kentuckians. " Bear up, my dear fellow, you are too brave to die," bade a kind- hearted Kentucky major. "■ 1 thank you from my heart," faintly nuirmured the young officer ; "■ it is all NEW ORLEANS. 249 over with me. You can render me a favour. It is to communicate to my commander that I fell on your parapet, and died like a soldier and true Englishman." The British troops at last broke, disorganized, each regiment leaving two-thirds dead or Avounded on the field. The Ninety-third, which had gone into the charge nine hundred men strong, mustered after the retreat one hundred and thirty-nine. The fight had lasted twenty-five minutes. Hearing of the death of Pakenham and the wounding of (jiil)bs and Keane, General Lambert advanced with the reserve. Just before he received his last wound, I*akenliam had ordered one of his staff to call up the reserve, but as the bugler was about to sound the advance, his arm was struck with a ball and his bugle fell to the ground. The order, therefore, was never given, and the reserve marched up only to cover the retreat of the two other brigades. At eight o'clock the firing ceased from the American lines, and Jackson, with his staff, slowly walked along his fortifications, stopj^ing at each command to make a short address. As he passed, the bands struck up '' Hail Columbia," and the line of men, turning to face him, burst into loud hurrahs. But the cries of exultation died away into exclama- tions of pity and horror as the smoke ascended from the field. A thin, fine red line in the distance, dis- covered by glasses, indicated the position of General Lambert and the reserve. Upon the field, save the crawling, agonizing wounded, not a living foe was to be seen. From the American ditch, one could have walked a quarter of a mile on the killed and disabled. The course of the column could be distinctly traced 250 NEW OB LEANS. by the broad red line of uniforms upon the ground. They fell in their tracks, in some places wliole platoons together. Dressed in their gay uniforms, cleanly shaved and attired for the promised victory, there was not, as Walker says, a private among the slain whose aspect did not present more of the pomp and cir- cumstance of war than any of the commanders of their victors. About noon, a British officer, with a trumpeter and a soldier bearing a white flag, approached the camp, bear- ing a written proposition for an armistice to bury the dead. It was signed ''Lambert." General Jackson returned it, with a message that the signer of the letter had forgotten to designate his authority and rank, which was necessary before any negotiations could be entered into. The flag of truce retired to the British lines, and soon returned with the full signature, " John Lambert, Commander-in-Chief of the British forces." On the right bank of the river it was the British who were victorious. The Americans, yielding to panic, fled disgracefully, as people with shame relate to this day. It was on this side of the river that the British acquired the small flag which hangs among the trophies of the Peninsular War, in Whitehall, with the inscription : " Taken at the battle of New Orleans, January 8, 1815." The bodies of the officers were first delivered. Some of them were buried that night in Villere's garden by torch-light; the rest were hastily interred in the rear of Bienvenu's plantation ; the remains of Gibbs and Pakenham Avere conveyed to England. Of the six thousand men who made the attack on Jackson's lines, the British report a loss of nineteen hundred and NEW ORLEANS. 251 twenty-nine. Tlie American estimates increase this to two thousand six hundred. The Americans had eight men killed and thirteen wounded. The prisoners and wounded were sent to the city. Some of the little boys of the time, now in their nine- ties, who watched the slow, sad cortege, tell of their childish pity and sympathy for them, and their admi- ration for the great, tall, handsome prisoners, in their line uniforms. The citizens pressed forward to tender their aid for the wounded. The hospitals being crowded, private houses were thrown open, and the quadroon nurses, the noted quadroon nurses of the city, offered their ser- vices and gave their best skill and care at the bedside of the English sufferers. As soon as the armistice expired, tlie American bat- teries resumed their firing. Colonel Thornton with his men recrossed the river during the night of the eighth. From the ninth to the eighteenth a small squadron of the British fleet made an ineffectual at- tempt to pass Fort St. Philip. Had it timed its action l)etter with Pakenham's, his defeat might at least have cost his enemies dearer. On the 18th of January took place the exchange of prisoners, and New Orleans received again her sorely missed citizens. Although their detention from the stirring scenes of the camp formed in their lives one of the unforgivable offences of destiny, their courteous, kindly, pleasant treatment by the British naval officers was one of the reminiscences which gilded the memo- ries of the period. Sir John Lambert's retreat was the ablest measure of the British campaign. To retire in boats was im- 252 NEW ORLEANS. practicable ; there were not boats enough, and it was not safe to divide the army. A road was therefore opened, along the bank of the bayou, across the prairie to the lake, a severe and difficult task that occupied nine days. All the wounded, except those who could not be removed, the field artillery and stores, were placed in barges and conveyed to the fleet, the ship guns were spiked, and on the night of the eighteenth the army was stealthily and quietly formed into column. The camp-fires were lighted as usual, the sentinels posted, each one provided with a stuffed dummy to put in liis stead when the time came for him to join the march in the rear of the column. They marched all night, reaching the shores of Lake Borgne at break of day. Early in the morning of the nineteenth, rumours of the retreat of the English began to circulate in the Ameri- can camp. Officers and men collected in groups on the parapet to survey the British camp. It presented pretty much the same appearance as usual, with its huts, flags, and sentinels. General Jackson, looking through his telescope from Macarty's window, could not convince himself that the enemy had gone. At last General Humbert, one of Napoleon's veterans, was called upon for his opinion. He took a look through the telescope, and immediately exclaimed : "They are gone ! " When asked the reason for his belief, he pointed to a crow flying very near one of the sentinels. While a reconnoitering party was being formed, a flag of truce approached. It brought a courteous letter from General Lambert, announcing the departure of the British army, and soliciting the kind attentions of Gen- eral Jackson to the sick and wounded, whom he was compelled to leave behind. The circumstances of these NEW ORLEANS. 253 wounded men l)eing made known in the city, a nund)er of ladies drove immediately down the coast in their carriages with articles for their comfort. The British fleet left the Gulf shores on the ITth of March. When it reached England, it received the news that Napoleon had escaped and that Europe was up again in arms. jNIost of the troops were at once re-embarked for Belgium, to join Wellington's army. General Landjert, knighted for gallantry at New Or- leans, distinguished himself at Waterloo. A handsome tablet in St. Paul's Cathedral, London, commemorates Pakenham's gallant life and heroic death. Walker relates that the Duke of Wellington, after the battle of New Orleans, always cherished a great admiration for General Jackson, and when introduced to American visitors never failed to inquire after his health. CHAPTER XII. JACKSON entered the city the 20th of January ; on the twenty-third was celebrated the public thanksgiving for the victory. This was the proudest and happiest day in the life of the city. A salute of artillery greeted its sunrise, a sunrise as radiant as the one that ushered in the day of the victory. In the Place d' Amies — would that Bienville and his Canadians might have seen it ! — arose a great triumphal arch, supported on six Corinthian pillars festooned with evergreens and flowers, its entrance guarded by Liberty and Justice, in the blooming forms of two beautifid young girls. Beside tliem, posed on pedestals, two cherubs, or children, held outstretched a laurel wreath. From the arch to the cathedral stood facing one another the states and territories, the loveli- est young ladies of the city, dressed in white, with blue veils fastened by silver stars on their brows, each one holding in one hand a banner endilazoned with her national title,- in the other a basket tied with blue ribbon, filled with flowers. Behind each a lance stuck in the ground bore a shield with the motto and seal 254 NEW ORLEANS. 255 of the state or territory represented, and the huices were festooned together with garlands of flowers and evergreens, extending over the street to the wreathed and decorated door of the cathedraL The crowd gathers until every place is packed. As the cathedral clock strikes the hour a})i)ointed, General »lackson, followed by his staff, appears at the river gate of the square. Salvos of artillery, bursts of music, and Avild luizzas greet him ; he crosses tlie square and mounts the steps of the triumphal arch. At the en- trance, he is arrested, while the cherubs, with blushing faces and timid liands, place the laurel wreath upon his head ; and wilder acclamations from the crowd drown the music, as it would have drowned the artillery had it continued. So crowned, the hero passes through the arch, and is met, not by Venus, but by Louisiana, dazzlingly radiant in all her youth, beauty, and Creole grace and cliarm. Slie recites a speech as glowing as herself with gratitude and emotion, to which the gen- eral replies with no less emotion, that his merits have been exalted far above their Avorth. As lie descends the steps and proceeds down the path to the cathe- dral, tlie states and territories shower their flowers througli the air, and the ground bh)Ssoms under his feet. At the cathedral door stands the Abbe Dnl)ourg in full pontificals, at the head of his priests. lie also addresses a speech to Jackson, praising him for the vic- tory, but solemnly reminding him of the (liver of all victories, to which again Jackson replies modestly and humbly. He is led through the crowded church to a seat of honour before the brilliant high altar, the gallant liattalion d'Orleans, in full uniform, files into the aisles, the majestic Te Deum rises from organ and 256 NEW ORLEANS. clioir. At niglit the whole city is illuminated, and balls and festivities hold the hours until dawn. The celebration, however, ended not witli that day; the victory seemed only to have begun in New Orleans. For half a century afterwards the city appeared ever on a passage through triumphal arches, with states and ter- ritories throwing flowers in her path. There was no discussion thereafter over the question of her eligibility to a place in the Union, nor of the political equality of lier citizens with the Americans. Year after year trav- ellers from all over the continent and from Europe came to view tlie spot where the conquerors of Naj)o- leon had been conquered, and to meet the heroes who had accomplished it. The glorious 8th of January eclipsed every other fete day in the city ; its annual parade is one of the great memories of the happy child- hood before the civil war. Not a negro nurse but, with face as bright as her Madras kerchief, could name the heroes of the Battalion d' Orleans as it passed, and tell of the great battle they had won, always linking in the company of the freemen of colour, with the heroism and patriotism of the whites. They were all Hectors and Achilleses to the proud cliildren! And Jordan — but no one, not even the grand officers nor grander visitors in the parade, ever fired the childish heart so much as he — the young mulatto drummer, who beat his drum during all and eveiy fight, in the hottest hell of the fire, and was complimented by Jackson himself after the battle. Long after the civil war, childhood can remember '' Old Jordan " as he was then called, an aged mulatto in uniform, beating his old Chalmette drum in the i)arade, at the head of the white- haired, bent-backed, feebly-stepping veterans of 1812. NEW OTiLEANS. 259 Even prosperity fails to ()l)literiite such memories ! ^Vnd the prosperity that gikled the prophetic vision of Law now showered upon the city, — just one century too late for Law and for the city's royal godfather. Statistics alone are the proper chroniclers of it. From eight thousand at the time of the cession, tlie popida- tion of the city arose to thirty-three thousand the year after the battle; by 1819 it was forty-one thousand, (en years later lifty thousand, in 1840, one hundred thousand, and New Orleans ranked fourth in the Union, New York, Philadelphia, and Haltimore alone outnum- bering her. In 1812 the lirst steanilxnit came down the river to the city; in 1821 there were two hundred and eighty-seven arrivals of steamboats. The year after the battle the harbour was white with sails, and fifteen hundred flatboats and five hundred barges tied up at their landing. As many as six thousand flat- boatmen at a time trooped in the streets. The city walls were thrown down, the forts demolished, the moat was filled and made into bcndevards : Canal, Ram- |)art, and Esplanade. 'I'he old Marquis de Mariguy turned his plantation into blocks and streets: Love, (ireatmen, (rood Children, Piety, with a few fixed names, Mandeville, Mariguy, Kerlerec, Champs Elysees, Enghieu. This section of the city is still called by th(! ohl-fashioned. Faubourg ALirigny, or the "third" luuiiicipality. Th(^ landing for flatljoats and barges had l)een located by the Spanish government outside the city walls, along the Avillow-grown baidv in front of the Tchoupitoulas road, which fixed it as the (quarter for American settlement. This was in front of the old Jesuits' plantation, extending from the Terre Commune^ 260 NEW ORLEANS. or government reservation, outside the walls, to the line marked by Delord street, whicli was then owned by Bertrand and Marie Gravier. In the business reaction after the great conflagration of Miro's time, they divided their tract of land into lots and streets, and found ready investors in it. It was called Ville Gravier, until Jean Gravier changed it to Faubourg Ste. Marie, in honour of his mother. The Tchoupitoulas road became Tchoupitoulas street. The government storehouses for Kentucky tobacco, just outside the Terre Commune, gave Magazine street its Spanish name, Calle del Almazen. The Campo de Negros, or Negro Camp, named Camp street, beyond which, stretch- ing out to the swamp, were the truck gardens that sup- plied the markets. The first street crossing the Fau- bourg Ste. Marie was Gravier street, running into the swamp. At the end of it, about the rear of tlie Poy- dras market, stood the old plantation house and liome of Jean Gravier. Poydras, Girod, and Julia, a free coloured woman, named the streets which defined their investments on the river front. The Terre Commune became C-ommon street ; the Faid^ourg Ste. INhirie l)e- came the second municipality of the city, and, ever attracting the American settlers, it stretched upwards, taking in, one after another, the old historic plantations. The electric car of to-day speeds through the cane- fields, negro quarters, gardens, parks, and pastures of these old plantations. Every now and then, in the Garden District, the eye lights upon a venerable oak or a great solitary pecan tree, which stands amid the spick and span improvements about it, tlie last of a great grove or avenue of a century ago. The Garden District proper covers the old De Bore plantation, which had NEW OliLEANS. 261 been the property of the patriot jNIasaii, coiidemnud by O'Reilly to ten years' imprisonment in Moro Castle, IlaA'ann. Tt w:is the fii'st ])l;u'e in (lie state njxtii ^\hi(■h suii'iir was made, and, llu' cliildliood lioiiu^ of ( 'harh's 262 NEW ORLEANS. Gayarre, it was that " Louisiana sugar plantation under the old regime " of wliich he has written so charmingly and to which he loved, in his old, old age, to take his friends in conversation. There was not one of his intimates but could, with easy imagination, sub- stitute personal for oral knowledge of it; the avenue of pecan trees that lead from the high road to the great moat, alive with fish, with on its fartlier bank a thick hedge of yucca, or S})anish dagger, — a transcendent sight in the spring, when every staff bore its spike of ethereally beautiful waxen white flowers, swinging and SAvaying in the Ijreeze ; the grass-covered rampart crowned by its formidable brick wall ; with its hedge inside of wild orange ; the avenue to the house, sliaded with sweet orange trees, also in spring and autumn redolent and beautiful beyond description ; and the house itself, — a veritable treasure-house of anecdotes, historical and convivial, with its archetypal master and Louisiana planter, M. de Bor^, whom we, see as his grandson loved to picture him, in the dawn at the l)eginning of the day's work, and at the afternoon close of it, with his slaves kneeling to their prayers before him. Indigo Avas the staple and profitable product of the Louisiana plantations until a worm made its appear- ance and destroyed crop after crop. Ruin stared the planters in the face. Cane grew as well as indigo in the soil, but all efforts to make sugar out of it had failed. The syrup would not granulate, and at last popular belief would have it, that syrup made from cane grown in Louisiana soil could not granulate. It was a sort of popular reasoning that has spurred many a sensible man to a successful experiment. De NEW ORLEANS. 263 Bore invested liis and his wile's fortnne in seed cane; })lanted, prepared his mill, and engaged Cuban sugar- makers. The day of tlie roulaiso7i a crowd of planters gathered in his sugar-house, standing along the side of the kettles, turning their eyes from the boiling juice to tlie sugar-maker, with the strained interest of players looking from the cards to the dealer, at a rouge-et-noir table. Would it granulate ? would it not granulate ? The sugar-maker tested — tested ; " Not." " Not." '^ It granulates!" at last he called in triumphant voice. It was, to the colonists, as if the gold mines hoped for by La Salle had been found. Of M. de Bore's wife, a Des Trehans, daughter of the Royal Treasurer and a pupil of St. Cyr, old beaux of her day used to say that it was worth a fifty-mile journey merely to see her take a pinch of snuff. The plantation above, which extended over Audubon Park, belonged to Pierre Foucher, a son-in-law of M. de Bore; the next place above, taking in Carrollton, had belonged to the unfortunate Lafr^niere ; it was at that time the property of Mademoiselle de Macarty, who was Madame de Bore's intimate friend as well as neighbour, and, like her, had been educated at Madame de Maintenon's institution for the proper education of proper young ladies. It certainly was worth travelling fifty miles to hear INIademoiselle de Macarty described by the nonagenarian historian and see one of her visits to his grandmother acted. Her carriage, a curiosity unique in the colony, was called a chaise ; it was like a modern coupe, but smaller, with sides and front of glass. There was no coachman; a postilion rode one of the spirited horses, a little black rascal of a postilion, mIio alwaj'S rode so fast and so wildly that his tiny cape 264 NEW ORLEANS. stood straight out behind like wings. When, in a cloud of dust, the vehicle turned into the Pecan avenue, the little darkeys stationed there as lookouts would shriek out in shrill excitement, to get the announcement to the great gates ahead of the horses: " Mamzelle Macarty a pe vini! " And there would be a rush inside, to throw the gates open in time. And his cape flying more wildly than ever, his elbows beating the air more furiously, the postilion would gallop his horses in a sweeping circle through the great courtyard and bring them panting to a hviWiiint firiale before the carriage step. M. de Bore would be standing there, ready, with his lowest bow, to open the carriage door and hand the fair one out, and lead her at arm's length, with a stately minuet step, up the broad brick stairs and through the hall, to the door of the salon, where they would face each other, and he would again bow, and she would drop a curtsey into the very hem of her gown — her Louis XIV. gown, for from head to foot she always dressed in an exact copy of the costume of Madame de Maintenon. That is, all to her arms, which were in Mademoiselle de Macarty's youth so extremely beautiful that she never overcame the habit, even in extreme cold weather and old age, of exhibiting them bare to the shoulder. The mystery why, with her great wealth and great beauty, she had never married, remained a vivid one — even when old age had effaced everything except the fame of her radi- ant youth. The De Bore town house was on Chartres and Conti streets, a massive brick building, with a large courtyard opening on Conti street, a true Spanish building ; broad doorways, windows, rooms, hall, a staircase fit for a palace and beautiful enough for one, with its elaborate, NEW ORLEANS. 265 fantastic, liandwrought iron railing ; the roof was a solid terrace, surrounded by a stone balustrade. It was afterwards owned by Madame de la Chaise. The Des Trehans hotel stood opposite. Both have been demolished to make room for business buildings. But the house of Madame Poree, another member of the same family, still stands on the corner of Dumaine and Iloyal streets, looking just as it did on the brilliant December day when the little Charles Gayarre saw its iroii-balustraded balcony filled with ladies, waving their handkerchiefs to the Creole troops hurrying down to the plains of Chalmette; or when, on the 8tli of Jan- uary, the roar of the cannon subsiding, hearts were beating every instant more fearfully and anxiously, the clatter of horses' feet was heard and women and children rushing out upon it as they did upon all the lialconies around, — ''•Victory! Victory!" was shouted to them by a young Creole galloping through the streets. The old Spanish building opposite the side of the Cabildo, on St. Peter and Chartres streets, was, at this time, the restaurant " La veau qui tete,'' famed for its wine and cooking and its pationage by the elite. Be- low, on Chartres, between Dumaine and St. Philip, was the old Cafe des Emigres, the headquarters for the St. Domingans, where their favourite liquor, " le petit gouave," was concocted. In passing along the streets to-day in the French quar- ter, one can understand with a sigh of regret, the easy sociability which then made the whole heau monde one and a congenial set, the ideal of all society and an im- [)ossible one now, with the accumulation of population, the great separation of distances, and the segregative 266 NEW ORLEANS. rules of neighbourhood. In the gay season then the whole city was one neighbourhood, what one really could call a neighbourhood, courtyard doors all open, balcony touching balcony, terrace looking on to terrace. Society was close, contiguous, continuous. There were no sum- mer trips then beyond the atmosphere of Louisiana, none of the periodical separations which, year after year, like the effective dropping of water upon a stone, break through the union of families and friends, 7ion vi sed saepe cadendo. Then, when after the voyage de rigueur to France, not one year, but a series of years, held families fixed in the same place, with the same surroundings, in touch with the same affections and interests, friendship became a habit and an inheritance in what are called the old families (and so distinguish- ing them from the new ones), as can be shown by many an heir, to this day, among blacks as well as whites. In spite of epidemics, summer was then so far away from the disfavour of to-day that in the accounts that come to us, it seems as attractive as winter; the early ris- ing and morning cup of coffee ; the great courtyard, stretched open for all the breezes and all the world that choose to enter ; the figs, pomegranates, bananas, crape myrtles and oleanders, glittering in their dew; the calls in the street, musical negro cries, heralding vege- tables, fruits, and sweets : " Belle des figues! " " Belle des figues!" "Bons petits calas!" "Tout chauds! Tout chauds! " "Barataria! Barataria! " "Confitures coco!" "Pralines, Pistache! Pralines, Pacanes, " the family marchande, coming into the courtyard swaying her body on her hips to balance the basket on lier head, sitting on the steps to give the morning news to the family sitting around the breakfast-table on the gai- NEW ORLEANS. 267 lery ; the dining-room on the rez de chaussee and open- ing into the street for all passers-by to see, if tliey would, the great faniil}^ board (there were no small families in the ancient regime), and the j^ompons but- ler and the assistant " gardienne," in bright head- kerchief, gold-hook earrings, white fichu, and gay (lowered gown ; the promenade after dinner, on the tree-shaded levee, to enjoy the evening breeze and meet with every one one knew . . . and see the con- stant wonder of new ships arriving ... at night the chairs on terraces and balconies brought close to boun- dary lines, for the ladies to exchange those confidences wliich keep family secrets from dying out, Avhile the men, as the phrase was, are enjoying themselves. . . . These were features of the summer life in the city in those days. The travellers of that time in the United States, the Iviropean ones, especially, liked the place, and Avere fond of comparing it with the cities of the North. The Duke of Saxe- Weimar, Eisenach, who visited New Orleans, in 1825-26, pul)lishes quite frankly: " It was naturally agreeable to me, after wandering a long time in mere wilderness, once more to come into a long civ- ilized countr}'." He landed at Bayou St. John, and Ihuling that a boat to the city would cost six dollars, Jie walked in. After three miles, '' We found ourselves quite in another Avorld, plantations with handsome buildings, followed in (piick succession, noble live-oaks, orange trees, mansions with columns, })iazzas and cov- ered galleries. . . . We saw from a distance the white s[)ires of the cathedral and masts in port . . . passed the canal upon a turning bridge to strike into the city by a nearer way . . . the road led bet^^'een \\'ell-built 268 NEIV ORLEANS. mansions ; over the streets were hung reflecting lamps. . . . Ships hiy four or five deep in tiers along the river. In a line with the bank stood houses two or three stories high, also ancient mansion houses known by their heavy, solid style." Tlie Duke visited Mr. Grymes (who had married the beautiful widow of Governor Claiborne). They lived, he says, in a large massive and splendidly furnished house, and they made a great display at a dinner party given him. " After the second course, large folding doors opened and we beheld another dining-room in which stood a table with the dessert, at which we seated ourselves in the same order as at the first." The Duke made up his mind to pass the season in the city. " No day passed over this winter," he writes, " which did not produce something pleasant and inter- esting . . . dinners, evening parties, masquerades and other amusements followed close on each other." " There were masked balls every night of the Carnival at the French theatre, which liad a handsome saloon, well ornamented with mirrors, with three rows of seats arranged en amphitliedtre. Tuesdays and Fridays were the nights for the subscription balls, where none but good society were admitted. The ladies are very pretty, with a genteel French air, their dress, extremely elegant, after the latest Paris fashion ; they dance excellently. Two cotillions and a waltz were danced in quick succession ; the musicians were coloured and pretty good. The gentlemen, who were far behind the ladies in elegance, did not long remain, but hastened away to other balls, and so, many of the ladies were condemned to 'make tapestry.' . . . On Sundays, shops were open and singing and guitar playing in the NEW ORLEANS. 269 streets, for which in New York or Philadelphia one wonld be pnt in prison." , . . He goes to the coffee-houses to hear Spanish songs with guitar accompaniment, and to the theatre regularly, both to the French and American. At the former, aiii«)ng other dramatic performances, he saw "-Marie Stuart" played in masterly style to an enthusiastic audience, in whicli the Columhian commander in port was a conspicuous tigure, with his l)rilliant uniform and hat Avith long white feather ; he also met an old friend, the Comte de Vidua, there. At the American theatre he saw "• Der Freischiitz," the " Kentuckians " cracking nuts during the performance. . . . On iNIardi-Gras all the ball-rooms of the city were opened. Tliere was a grand masked ball at the Theatre d'Or- leaiis. . . . ]\Iany of the ladies were in mask, but cui'iosity soon led his Highness elsewhere. On the 22d of February there was a splendid ball again at tlie Tbeatre (FOrleans . . . and there is mention of a children's ball for the benetit of the daneing master,.^ in which the little ones gave proof of their inherited beauty and grace. The taste and splendour in the mansion of the Baron de Marigny are especially com- mented upon, and the coffee-set sent by the Duke of Orh^ans, the cups ornamented with portraits of the royal family, the larger pieces with views of the Palais lioyal, and castle and park at Neuilly. It was with the Marigny ladies that the Duke went to see the '^ (^osmorama," and returning from accompanying them lionu', saw the prettiest })icture he has peinied in his book: "it was eight o'clock as we descended the levee, tlie evening was clear, with starlight, the bnstle in the barljour had ceased, one only remarked on board of some 270 NEW ORLEANS. ships the sailors collected on deck under an illumi- nated awning where the captain held evening service. Precisely at eight o'clock the retreat gun tired at the city hall . . . immediately afterwards the two Colum- bian brigs fired; their drums and bugles sounded re- treat, while those in the barracks did the same. All this, added to the lighted ships and the solitary gleams from the opposite side of the river, made an impression upon me which I cannot describe." After a stay of nine weeks he left New Orleans, " with the most grateful feelings towards the inhabi- tants, who had received me in a friendly and affectionate manner, and had made this winter so extremely agree- a])le to ]ne. . . . The Creoles are, upon the whole, a warm-hearted generation ; the people with whom I was least pleased here were the Americans, who are mostly brought here by the desire of accumulating wealth." In 1824, the illustrious Lafayette paid his historical visit to the city, and was accorded a reception and triumphal arch, which almost vies in memory with the glorious triumph of Jackson. It was a hare and tortoise race between the Ameri- cans and the Creoles, and in the United States it is always the hare that wins. Before the Creoles were aware of it, the Faubourg Ste. Marie was not only a commercial rival of the vieux earre, but was proving a close competitor over her undisputed birthriglit, the expression of the religious and social life of the i)lace ; claiming separate churches, cemeteries, fine residences, and theatres. In 1805, as soon as the cession granted them freedom of worshi}), the Americans built a Protes- tant Episcopal church, Christ Church, on the outskirts of the city, the corner of Canal and Dau})liine streets. NEW ORLEANS 271 Governor Claiborne worshipped in it, and, after his death, received a marble memorial in its churchyard. A truly venerable Gothic building it was, and so filled i^OoKiao tu-^vsiv t^c Hotel rUyb-V. with memories and encased in sentiment, that Avhen its vestry, after three-quarters of a century's resistance to enterprise, linally sold it and its churchyard, to 272 NEW ORLEANS. remove into a more progressive and American part of town, the old residents, Catholics as well as Protes- tants, shed tears ; and it is only the great American compeller — financial necessity — that can, even to-day, secure any popular submission to the demolition of the first Protestant landmark in the community. 1823 is the illustrious date that begins all English theatrical memories in the city, when the Americans opened their theatre on Camp street, between Poydras and Gravier. The new enter^jrise offered all-year-round, legitimate drama, with a fine stock company of English players, and such regular annual luminaries as the elder Booths, Macready, Forrest, Barrett, the Placides, and above all, there was that incomparable owner and man- ager, accomplished English scholar, actor, reader, gen- tleman, bon vivant., Caldwell, whose suppers, hon mots., readings, criticisms, repartees, are a regular part of the make-up of any pretender to dramatic criticism of to- day. It was the convivial contact with such a stage, such a company, such actors, and such a Caldwell, that fostered the pleasant illusion which lasted so long among the gentlemen of New Orleans, that upon the drama and acting, they spoke ex cathedra. And even now, in the " old families," the heritage of obiter dicta from the " old Varieties " are given and taken as argu- ments of current exchange. Even the old slaves, the most enthusiastic of theatre-goers, by frequenting the Camp Street, and afterwards the St. Charles Street theatre, felt themselves authorized to laugh any modern theatrical pretensions to scorn, and the barbers and hairdressers of the old time made Shakespearian criti- cism and theatrical gossip a regular part of their collo- quial accomplishment. NEW ORLEANS. 273 But, with all her enterprise, Faiil)()uro' Ste Marie was mitvoted by the city below C-aiial street, which always elected the mayor and the majority of the eoiiu- cU. The consequence was that the revenues of the city were all expended upon improvements in the Cre- ole section, and every effort of nepotism was made by the city government to assure its superiority over its upstart rival ; besides its Canal Carondelet, a railroad was given it in 1825, to connect it with the lake trade ; the Pontchartrain railroad, noted as the second one built in the United States. Faubourg Ste. Marie retaliated by constructing its own canal, which brought the lake trade to the foot of Julia street. The rivalry between the two sectiT)ns was now inflamed to antagonism. In the midst of it the country members of the legislature, jealous of the pre- pondering influence of the city on its body, removed the capital to Donaldsonville, a small town on the Mis- sissippi. It was, however, transferred again to New Orleans in 1831, when the property holders of Faubourg Ste. Marie, after a most exciting struggle, forced through the legislature an amendment to the city eliarter, dividing the city into three municipalities, with Canal street and the Esplanade as boundary lines, and giving each section a separate government — in reality making three separate cities of it. The con- troller of its own finances, the Faubourg Ste. Marie, in one dash, left its Creole rival so far behind in (he race as to settle the contest forever. Streets were paved, ware- houses built, quays constructed, and blocks lilled with residences. The truck gardens were shoved into the swam}). An unsightly quagmire was filled in to fur- nish the site for a palatial hotel, the St. Charles ; two 274 NEW ORLEANS. other hotels were built, on the ground of the old cattle pens on Camp and Magazine streets. A wretched waste was converted into Lafayette Square; the City Hall, First Presljyterian Church, Odd Fellows Hall, were grouped with fine effect around it. Banks, newspapers, railroad companies, warehouses, compresses, multiplied; commercial firms sprang up like mushrooms ; property rose by leaps in value. The Faubourg Marigny built also her compresses, warehouses, quays, and blocks of residences, these last with more architectural generosity, broader spaces, longer vistas, ampler gardens, than Faubourg Ste. Marie, with more sacrifices to the picturesque, and therefore not with the same resultant accumulation of wealtli. The vieux carrS built, too, her fSt. Louis Hotel, with a great exchange, under a magnificent rotunda. A jail, the " Calaboose," strong as a Bastile, was erected back of the town near Congo Square. Banks and business rows, and finer and finer houses, crowded out the old Spanish structures, which the Creoles, unlike the thrifty Americans, filled with finer furniture, mirrors, pictures, from Europe. The enriched Americans now buy it second-hand for tlieir fine houses ; the Creoles selling it — some of them for bread. Secure in the prolific wealth of their plantations and city rents, the enter- prise of the Creoles, in inverse progression from the Americans, seemed ap})lied rather to the dispensing than to the acquiring of wealth. Travellers came to visit tlie 1830 " Chicago " and wrote all kinds of flattering things of it. The English traveller, Buckingham, who was in the city in 1839, says that below Canal street everything reminded him NEW ORLEANS. 275 of. Paris: the lamps hanging from ropes across the streets, thc^ women in gay aprons and caps, the language, tlie shops, particularly the millinery estahlishment on Royal and Toulouse streets, " La Belle (Ireoh;," with, its beautiful oil-painted sign, representing a, huly in costume de hal and another in costume de prome^iade ; the winning persuasiveness of the shop-keepers; the style of living; the love of military display, and the amusements, operas, concerts, ballets, balls and masquerades, without intermission, from November to May ; persons coming from theatres at midnight, remaining at masquerades until daylight. The ball-rooms of the St. Louis hotel were, he said, unequalled in tlie United States for size and beauty. The banks were "noble buildings." The St. Charles hotel he pronounced not only the liaiid- sonu'st in the United States, but in the world, even the handsomest of London and Paris falling short of it. In his eiunneration he specially pauses at the wonder of the city, the magnificent chandelier of the newly built St. Charles theatre, made especially in London, thirty- six feet in diameter, with hundreds of gas jets and thousands of cut-glass drops. Our traveller found the Creoles "frank, warm-hearted and impassioned, with manners more interesting than the Americans . . . the roundness and beauty of shape in the women also contrasting with the straightness and angularity of American figures ; in complexion they are like Italian women, and they combine the attractiveness of the women of Cadiz and Naples and Marseilles ; with a self- possession, ease, and elegance which the Americans seldom possess, although the latter, by contact with the Creole po})ulation, have worn off mucli of the stiff- ness which characterizes the New England States, wliiie 276 NEW ORLEANS. a long residence in the sunny South has both moulded their forms into more elegance and gracefulness and expanded their ideas and feelings into greater liberal- ity. They have lost that mixture of keenness in driving a bargain, and parsimoniousness in the expen- diture of its fruits, as well as that excessive caution in opening themselves to strangers, lest they should commit themselves, whicli is so characteristic of the people of the North. At the same time, they retain in the fullest vigour the philanthropic spirit which is also a characteristic of the North "... apropos of which may be added the Englishman's surprise at find- ing in NcAV Orleans so many charitable institutions, after so many accounts and descriptions of the profli- gacy there. At the St. Louis hotel that winter, Mr. Buckingham met a piece of social rococo, in the shape of a visitor ; the handsome and distinguished-looking Mademoiselle America Vespucci, the lineal descendant of the great navigator, and an advanced woman even for this day ; a member not only of secret political societies, but an actual combatant in man's clothing on the battle-field, where she had received a sabre cut on the back of the head. Her mission to the United States was to obtain a grant of land, in recognition of her name and parent- age. Mr. Buckingham says he had never witnessed in any other except Lady Hester Stanhope, "so noble a union of high birth and mental powers." In 1843 Henry Clay ])aid his memorable visit to the city. Lady Wortley paid hers in "'49," and could not " but think what a wonderful place this same New Orleans will bo in the future. She came by the favour- ite route then from the North, down the river ; and how NEW ORLEANS. 279 she writes of it ! With un enthusitism as obsolete now as the steamboat that called it forth : " By night the scene is one of startling interest and magical splendour. Hundreds of lights are glancing in different directions, from the villages and plantations on shore, and from tlie magnificent floating palaces of steamers that fre- (piently look like moving mountains of light and flame, so l)rilliantly are these enormous leviathans illuminated outside and inside. Indeed, the spectacle presented is like a dream of enchantment. Imagine steamer after steamer coming, sweeping, sounding, thundering on, blazing witli thousands of lights, casting long brilliant reflections on the fast rolling waters beneath. (There are often a number of them, one after another, like so many comets in Indian file.) Some of them are so marvellously and dazzlingly lighted, they really look like Aladdin's palace on fire (which it, in all likelihood, would be in America) sent skurrying and dashing down the stream, while perhaps just then all else is darkness around it." There were other scenes described by visitors, scenes that read as strange to the community now as they a})peared then to travellers. Fredericka Bremer, who came to the city in 1852, writes : — " I saw nothing especially repulsive in these places (slave marts) excepting the whole thing; and I cannot help feeling a sort of astonishment that such scenes are possible in a comnnmity calling itself Christian. It seems to me sometimes as if it could not be reality, as if it were a dream. The great slave market is held in several houses situated in a particular part of the city. One is soon aware of their neighbourhood from the groups of coloured men and women, of all shades between ))laclv and light yellow, whicli stand or sit unemployed at the doors. I visited some of tliese houses. A\'e saw at one of them the slave keeper or owner, a kind, 280 NEW ORLEANS. good-tempered man who boasted of the good appearance of his people. The slaves were snmmoned into a large hall, and arranged in two rows. They were well fed and clothed, but I have heai'd it said by the people here, that they have a very different appearance when they are brought hither, chained together, two and two, in long rows, after many days' fatiguing marches. The slightest kind word or joke called forth a sunny smile, full of good humour, on their countenances, and revealed a shiny row of beautiful pearl- like teeth. . . . Among the women, who were few in number in comparison with the men . . . there were some pretty, light mu- lattoes. A gentleman took one of the prettiest of them by the chin and opened her mouth to see the state of her teeth, with no more ceremony than if she had been a horse. . . . " I went to witness a slave auction — it was held at one of the small auction-rooms which are found in various parts of New Orleans. The principal scene of slave auctions is a splendid rotunda, the magnificent dome of which is worthy to resound with songs of freedom. ... A great number of people were assembled. About twenty gentlemenlike men stood in a half circle around a dirty wooden platform, which for the moment was unoccupied. On each side, by the wall, stood a number of black men and women, silent and serious. The whole assembly was silent, and it seemed to me as if a heavy grey cloud rested upon it. One heard through the open door the rain falling heavily in the street. . . . Two gentlemen hastily entered, one of them, a tall, stout man, with a gay and good-tempered aspect, evidently a bon vivant, ascended the auction platform. I was told that he was an Englishman, and I can believe it from his blooming complexion, which was not American. He came apparently from a good breakfast, and he seemed to be actively employed in swallowing his last mouthful. "Taking the hammer in his hand, he addressed the assembly, stating briefly that the slaves were home slaves, all the property of one master, who having given bond for a friend who afterwards became bankrupt, was obliged to meet his responsibilities by parting with his faithful servants, who therefore were sold, not in consequence of any faults or deficiencies. After this, he beckoned to a woman among the blacks to come forward, and he gave her his hand to mount upon the platform, where she remained stand- NEW ORLEANS. 281 ing beside him. She was a tall, well-grown mulatto, witli a hand- some but sorrowful countenance, and a remarkably modest, noble demeanour. She bore on her arm a young sleeping child, upon which, during the whole auction ceremonial, she kept her eyes immovably riveted, with her head cast down. She wore a grey dress made close to the throat, and a pale yellow handkerchief, checked with brown, was tied around her head. " The auctioneer, after vaunting the woman's good qualities, skill, ability, character, good disposition, order, fidelity, her uncommon (lualification for taking care of a house, her piety and talents and the child at her breast, which increased her value, obtained a starter of five hundred dollars for her, and finally the hammer fell at seven hundred. She was sold to one of the dark, silent figures before her. Who he was whether he was good or bad, whether he would lead her into tolerable or intolerable slavery — of all this the bought and sold woman and mother knew as little as I did, neither to what part of the world he would take her. And the father of her child, where was he ? . . . All were sold, — the young- girl who looked pert rather than good, the young man, a mulatto with countenance expressive of gentleness and refinement, who had been brought up by his master and was greatly beloved by him . . . and last of all, the elderly woman whose demeanour or general appearance showed that she too had been in the service of a good master, and having been accustomed to gentle treatment, had become gentle and happy ... all bore the impression of hav- ing been accustomed to an affectionate family life. . . . And now, what was to be their future fate? How bitterly, if they fell into the hands of the wicked, would they feel the difference between then and now I How horrible would be their lot 1 . . . The master had been good ; the servants good also, attached and faith- fid, and yet they were sold to whoever would buy them, sold like brute beasts." All travellers, however, did not write so gently of such scenes as Fredericka Bremer, nor accept slavery as jihilosophically as Bucking-ham did and Lady Wortley, who frankly confesses that slie saw " only the couleur de rose of the business."' Mademoiselle America Ves- 282 NE]V ORLEANS. pucci, for instance, to quote still from foreign visitors of the same period, could see nothing rose coloured about it. The improvements and renovations took at last a disastrous turn. Almonaster's cathedral was torn to the ground, and rebuilt with what was intended to be far greater art and magnificence ; Mansard roofs were added to the Cabildo and convent. The Baroness de Pontalba, who was in the city at the time, improved her father's old pointed, red-tiled roofed Spanish build- ings into the present French row, to be in harmony with the mansarded Cabildo and convent. The old Place d' Amies itself was improved into Jackson square, all vestige of grim-visaged war smoothed from it, planted in flowers and shrubs and (save the mark !) laid off in trim walks and neat bosquets ; its old flag-staff taken down to give place to the equestrian statue of the hero of Chalmette. In 1852 the three municipalities came together again into one city; that is, the other two came into the Faubourg Ste. Marie, for it now was New Orleans, the American had conquered the Creole, and the Cabildo yielded precedence to the City Hall. The next year came the great epidemic of cholera and yellow fever. Although no mention has been made of it ; during and accompanying all these years, when prosperity flushed the city, and wealth piled in banks, or ran in pleasure . . . there was at the rout and feast not any conventional, suggestive memento 7)Wi'i, there was Death itself. Death, as palpable, visible, audi- ble, as a stolid oflicial executioner ; and not as a fleet- ing presence but functioning steadily, regularly for days, weeks, months, year after year. In the colonial NEW OliLEANS. 283 days, vessels stopping at Havana and St. Domingo would invariably bring in the epidemic raging there, and the little population would })ay its tribute of lives, — always the freshest and healthiest of its new comers. The survivors of the fever, however, were immunized, or acclimated, not only in themselves, but for succeeding generations, and the yellow fever, al- though a regular visitant, had, when the immigration was scant, rather a starved run in the city. The West Indian, inured to his own climate, was of course ac- climated to NcAV Orleans. With the great inflow of American, Irish, and Ger- man innnigrants came the great epidemics of the twen- ties, increasing in raging violence through '27, '28, '29, to the fatar32. In September of that year, yellow I' e V e r , as -r -_. usual, broke A.t out, but in .cJ*>''^»'7Squ^^ 284 NEW ORLEANS. October it was reenforced by Asiatic cholera. Five thousand died during the ten days following, and these are only the recorded deaths. In twelve days a sixtli of the population was buried. Egress from the city was impossible ; families stayed at home within locked doors, and awaited the death signal. From the tales that survive of the visitation it would seem that human f ■"^"I'i -^cuij,(]^t>,e-t:eT.y. experience must have reached its limits of suffering by bereavement — and such a form of bereavement ! There are recollections of that time — buried in the graveyard — to exhume which is to revive the horrors of the plague of bygone centuries. A young Protestant minister, Dr. Clapp, who came to the city in 1822, and by a miracle survived all the epidemics, afterwards published the segment of his ex- perience. In '32 he was kept performing funeral services all day long; sometimes he did not leave the cemeterj^ NEW ORLEANS. 285 until nine o'clock at night, when the interments were made by candle light. Attending a funeral one morn- ing at six o'clock, he found at the cemetery more than a hundred bodies without coffins, brought during the night and piled uj) like cord wood. Trenches were dug, into which they were thrown indiscriminately. The chain gang were pressed into service as gravediggers and undertakers. A hospital l)eing found deserted, j)hysicians, nurses, attendants all dead or run away, and liie wards fdled with corpses, — the maj'or had the building and contents burned. I'ersons of fortune died unattended in their beds, and remained for days with- out burial. In every house there were sick, dying, and dead in the same room, often in the same bed. All 286 NEW ORLEANS. places of business were closed ; drays, carts, carriages, hand-carts, and wheelbarrows were kept busy carrying loads of the dead through the streets, dumping them at cemetery gates. Before the mortuary chapel on Ram- part street there was ever a file of them, waiting for a sprinkle of holy water and the sign of the cross, the only burial service possible. Protestant ministers, priests, Sisters of Charity, died standing at their posts. Multitudes who began the day in perfect health were corpses before night ; carpenters died on their benches ; a man ordered a coffin for a friend and died before it was finished. A bride died the night of her marriage, and was buried in her veil and dress cast off a few hours before. Tliree brothers died on the same day in a few hours of one another. A family of nine supped together in perfect health; by the end of the next twenty -four hours eight had died. A boarding- house of thirteen inmates was absolutely emptied, no one left. Corpses were found all along the streets, particularly in the early morning. A thick, dark atmosphere hung over the city, neither sun, moon, nor stars being visible. A hunter on Bayou St. John related that he killed no game ; not a l)ird was to be seen in the sky. Tar and pitch "^vere kept burning at every corner, the flames casting a lurid glare over the horrors of night ; during the day cannon were fired, like minute-guns along the streets, frighten- ing the dying into quicker death; great conflagrations were of daily occurrence, adding to the general dread. The frightened negroes thouglit the day of judgment had come; the enlightened thought it Avas hell. People stopped sending to market and cooking: they were afraid to eat anything substantial. NE]V OliLEANS. 287 The pious re(loul)le(l their fervour ; the pU^asnre h)vers tiieir desperate gayety, suppinsj;' with (hire-chnil hixiiry, betting on one another's cliaiices of deatli and tlie trenches, of which ghastly tales of burial alive were lold. One, the wildest of a gay supper party, extracted a [)roniise from his friends that he at least should not be buried alive. He did not appear the next evening, and his friends, organizing a searching party for him, traced him to a cholera trench; had it opened; he was found dressed as he had left the sujiper, just under the earth, his handsome face stiff in its dead convulsion of horror, his hands outstretched in the effort of crawling and struggling through the putrid dead towards life al)ove. Those who did not believe died with their ruling pas- sion on their lips; a passionate novel reader towards the end sent a friend out to buy the last novel of Sir VValt(ir Scott's, which had been daily expected. It was placed in liis lumds . . . his cold fingcsrs could turn the leaves, l)ut his eyes were growing dim. '' I am l)lind," he gasped, "I cannot see. 1 must be djdng, and leaving this new production of innnortal genius unread." Another one died uttering the name of Napoleon Bonaparte. The same epidemics returned the follow- ing sunnner, killing in the twelve months ten thousand out of a population of fifty-five thousand. In 1847, 1848, and 1849, eight per cent of the people died. In the summer of 1853 the climax of death was reached. Over five thousand raw emigrants, Ii'ish, English, and German, had landed during the year, and the city was in a state of U[)lieaval — canals being widened and deepened, ditches dug, gas and water mains extended, new road beds constructed. Street cleaning being yet in an experimental condition, the 288 NEW ORLEAlSrS. levees, back streets, slums, were foul and swarming with demoralized, filthy humanity. In May the yellow fever broke out on an English ship freshly loaded with Irish emigrants, and spread through the shipping in port; only twenty-five deatlis were reported for the closing week of June, the disease prowling still in 6t LbuLvb C. obscure corners. By the middle of July the week's deatlis were two hundred and four. Thousands left the city in the panic that ensued, blocking every route and mode of travelling. The weather changed to daily rains and hot suns. The floors of the Charity Hospital were covered with pauper sick. For a week, one died NEW ORLEANS. 289 every lialf hour. Every day the death rate rolled up liiL,dier, and on the 22d of August, from midniglit to midnight, tlie city yielded a fresh victim every live minutes. The horrors of 1833 were repeated. Out of a sixty thousand population, forty thousand were attacked, eleven thousand died. In 1854 and 1855 the fever returned witli cholera, with a death rate of sevent^z-two and seventy-three per thousand. In 1853 it was one hundred and eleven pei' thousand. The young Protestant minister, now an old one in the com- munity, writes, in answer to certain charges, and hehig from the North his statement is usually accepted as impai-tial: " In these epidemics, instead of the usual ace()m})animents of lawlessness and depravity, an ex- traoi-diiiary degree of benevolence prevailed, persons in every rank in life sacrificing time and money to care for the sick." But despite all this the forward march of the city 290 NEW ORLEANS. was not interrupted ; even the memory and grief of it were passing sliadows. The great financial crises of tlie decade swept over the place ; banks and fortunes were demolished, hut only for a moment ; the very stones of the street seemed to cry out wealth and prosperity, and higher and higher figures end the statistical columns, — more emigrants, more imports, more exports, more trade, more cotton, sugar, plantations, slaves ; and to off-set, the more death, the more life, the city's gayety, like the city's gold, mounting in the flood tide over it. To look back merely upon the printed account of it, — one can only repeat that it was the delirious reality of Law's delirious idea ; the fates and furies of old Paris's rue Quincampoix, by a touch of the golden wand, turning into muses and graces and pleasure pur- veyors for the little Paris in the New World. Jt was just such an orgie on a minute scale as old Paris liad known under the Regency, and the nouveaux riches here as there came from the aristocracy, and well pre- pared by ancestral seasoning, for the enjoyment of wealth. There were more and more theatres, operas, balls, hotels, clul)s, cards and horse-racing, cocking mains, even bull-fights. . . . If New Orleans were the woman she is figured to be, she would interrupt here with her uncontrollable eager- ness : " Ah, yes ! Tell about my races, my famous races, and my track, my beautiful Metairie track ! And my spring meetings. . . . My great last Saturdays — my four-mile race day — and the famous, yes, the famous Lex- ington-Lecompte matches. Describe that ! Do describe that! " But what woman, even New Orleans herself, could describe that? Who would want to read it when one can hear it told ? And when the memory of the NEW ORLEANS. 291 race takes in, as it always docs in New Orleans (for the turf was then a pastime for gentlemen and ladies, not a business for professionals), the crowds in the hotels, the noted men and women from all over the South wlio had come to the match, the whirl of carriages, and cabs, and vehicles of all kinds along the shell road, a kind of race track itself, the grand stand, exclusive as a private ball-room, glittering with ladies in toilets from the ateliers of the great modistes, Olympe and Sophie, and the ladies glittering with all those charms of beauty and conversation, which, in default of higher education, Heaven used then to supply women with . . . and the men, from all over the South glittering too in all the pride, arrogance, and self-sufficiency which their enemies, the moralists, supplied them with ; . . . the field packed . . . as the field must be always packed where the grand stand is not part of the gate receipts; and all round about, trees, fences, hedges, tops of carriages, crowded with every male being that coidd walk, ride, or drive from the city. '' By tlie Lord Harry ! Not a nigger left to wait around a table ; " the track — that superb track of old ]\Ietairie — the jockeys petted and spoiled like ballet-girls — and the horses! A volume would not hold it all before we even get to Lexington and Lecompte, and after that a library would be needed to contain it. One must hear, not read, about how '^tlie sun Avas dropping behind the trees, and the sky was all a glory, when Lecompte passed the grand stand on his first lieat in 7.2G ! And the glory of the sky was simply nothing, sir I when Lecompte won the race, beating the best heats on record ! '' And the next year, when Lex- ington ran against the record, and beat it! That, as 292 NE]V ORLEANS. the old gentlemen now — the young bloods of that day — say, was horse-rncing. And the dinners afterwards, at Moreau's, Victor's, Miguel's, and the famous lake restaurants, with their rival chefs and rival cellars ! And after that again the grand salons of the old St. Louis and St. Charles, filled with everybody ; and all enjoying themselves, as the phrase well puts it. That was what horse-racing meant then. Who thought of epidemics or financial panics ? Alas ! the old Metairie is expiating its sins now as a cemetery, and its patrons, its beaux and its belles and its horses, — they are expiating their sins too, in cemeterial ways. Within sight of the cemetery, a part of the same ridge of land, sinking into the same stretch of swamp, lies another relic of past time and civilization — the old duelling ground, now a park, a cemetery, too, in its way, although but one tomb stands there, that of its last owner, who, infatuated with love for his beautiful oaks, requested to be buried under the shadow of their branches. In the childish days of the city, when dis- putes were scarce, we hear of the officers drawing their swords and hgliting for pastime in the moonlight on the levee ; for other humours there were always quiet and retirement to be found anywhere outside of the city walls. When the emigrSs from France and the islands arrived wdth their different times and different man- ners, and when the disl)anded soldiers from Bonaparte's armies drop]i)ed into the population, there was as great a renaissance in duelling, as in tlie other condiments of life, so to speak. Fencing masters flourished, and " salles d'escrime " were the places of fashionable cidt- ure for 3'oung men. In Paris, gentlemen would step '■■"^ 'U I NEW ORLEANS. 295 out and light d V impromptu ''sous lo faiial de la eome- die." Young blades, returning from Paris, sharpened by eneounters over there with blades noted in the whole European world, must therefore tight also d Vimpromptu " sous le fanal de I'op^ra," otherwise the great lantern of the Orleans theatre, whose circle of light on a broad, smooth pavement furnished as pretty conditions for the settlement of a question about a soprano's voice or a ballet dancer's steps as could be desired anywhere. The weather not permitting this, all adjourned to Ponton's, C}^if^K^ 1--^-. the fashionable fencing room, just below the theatre. "When we fought at Ponton's." "Oh, he gave me a beautiful thrust at Ponton's." . . . This was the be- ginning of many a good friendship, and of many a good story of the fathers, uncles, cousins, and elder brothers of the young gentlemen at the Orleans college. The stories of another generation take in the Oahs. What a trooping of ghosts under the old trees, if all 296 NEW ORLEANS. the votaries of honour who liad fought or assisted others to fight there could revisit tlie phice in spirit! AVhat a throng would mine host of the restaurant opposite have to welcome, if all who quaffed a glass, in a happy reprieve from death or wounds, at that bar could return again! And he was the man of all in the city, it was said, who could, if he would, tell as much as the old oaks. Every- body fouglit with everybody then ; the score of duels was kept like the score of marriage offers of a belle. Individuals counted up eighteen, thirty, fifty of them. Mandeville Marigny fought with his brother-in-law. A fatlier and a son fought duels the same day. On one Sunday in 1839 ten duels were fought. '' Killed on the field of honour ! " The legend is a common enough one in the old cemeteries. Besides the great national differences between the Americans and Creoles, which were settled in a great national way, with shot-guns and rifles, there was every other imaginable difference settled under those trees, — politics, love, ball-room etiquette, legal points, even scientific questions. A learned scientist, an hy- draulic engineer, permitting himself to say (in justice to him, it was to exaggerate the importance of some personal theory) that the Mississippi was a mere rill in comparison to rivers in Europe, a Creole answered him : " Sir, I will never allow the Mississippi to be disparaged in my presence by an arrogant pretender to knowl- edge." A challenge followed, and the mouth of the defamer was cut across from one cheek to the other. In a ball-room a gentleman petitioned a belle : " Honour me with lialf this dance ? " " Ask monsieur," she an- swered, ''it belongs to him." ''Never," spoke her cavalier, bearing her off in the waltz, and just catch- NEW ORLEANS. 2i>7 ing the softly spoken, '^ ^Vli, vous etes mal eleve." Not a word more was said. The next morning tlie critic received a challenge and in the afternoon a neat thrust. Almost every day for years the Gascon cow- herds in the neighbourhood woidd see pilgrims on foot or in carriages wending their way to the Oaks ; and the inquisitive would peejj, and in the cool green light under the trees, witness the reparation of honour as required by the code ; a flashing, pretty siglit from a distance, when the combatants were lithe and young and the colichemardes worthy of their art. There is an episode (it may or may not l)e true) when the looker-on was not a cowherd; but the seconds, the surgeons, the one principal standing, might well start, as they did, in surprise : a woman, young, beautiful, and ccjurageous as any of them. She had waited until one fell and did not rise, and then rushed forward. She was still in her opera cloak, with her white silk gown trailing in the grass, her satin slippers wet Avitli dew, her arms and neck bare. In truth, she had not thought to change her dress. There had been the opera, and then a long supper, filled with gayety; he (the fallen duellist) as reckless, daring, and devoted, as usual, proffering his love Avith every eye glance, and she, refusing it as coquettishly as she had done for a year ])ast, for almost the best part of love to a great belle is liaving it constantly offered, that it may be refused. The coachman (coachmen hear everything that a car- riage is needed for) held her back as she was entering the house with her party, to whisper what he had heard. She gave a whispered order in return. And (lie supper, as lias been said, was gay, gay until d;i\- light. He was more himself, she more herself, than 298 NEW OliLEAJSrS. ever, and the guests were more interested than ever in the duel between them; he ever thrusting, she parrying. He had left with the others. She waited as she was until the house was quiet in sleep, and then slipping out to her carriage in the grey dawn, drove to the Oaks, and chose her position, and waited alone under the trees ; her carriage, of course, driving off to come up after the other carriages. She was without douljt a great beauty, a type, an absolute type (one may well say it, it was a common- place in the city), — like a sunrise or sunset, or the moonlight. And the men on the field knew her well; but they declared that never had she appeared so beautiful as when, throwing her opera cloak back, her white gown trailing, her satin slippers wet with dew, her hair falling from its stately coiffure over her neck, she rushed forward like a Valkyrie and picked up the form of her cavalier ; his blood dropping over her hands, cloak, and gown. She could have borne him off alone, she was strong enough, and quite as tall as he. She did bear him off in her carriage when the surgeons had finished, they telling her pretty plainly that he, her cavalier, was finished too. And she drove with him to his house, and sent the coachman for her confessor, and . . . married her cavalier as soon as he was conscious . . . and men were ready to maintain on the field of honour, and elsewhere, that under no other circumstances would she ever have married him, which is a curious fact, aljout women and about duels. There were other duels under the oaks, which men pause in their reminiscences of the past to describe, but wliich women care not to tell nor to hear about. These were the duels with broadswords; particularly that NE]V OliLEANS. 299 noted series during the spring of 1 840, when the maitres cVdnnes themselves were the opponents ; Creole, French- man, Italian, German, and Spaniard, lighting not for their personal honour, but to prove their art. There were also duels on horseback with broadswords. Tlie historic one of this kind was fought on the " Plaine Raquette," in the Faubourg Marigny, between a young Creole and a French cavalry officer. Our chronicler gives the account of an eye witness: " It was a hand- some sight. The adversaries, stripped to the waist, were mounted on spirited horses. They rode up, nerved for the combat ; the Frenchman, heavy, somewhat ungainly, but with muscles like wldp-cords, and a l)road, hairy chest, Avhieh gave every evidence of strengtli and en- durance ; the Ch'eole, lighter in weight, admirably pro- portioned, counterbalanced with youthful suppleness his .adversary's rigid strength. A clashing of steel, and " — omitting the details — " the Creole, by a rapid half-circle, and by a coup de pointe a droite plunged his blade through the body of the French officer." CHAPTER XIII. n^HE children who, in 1804, looked from the balconies -^ around the Place d' Amies to see the American flag raised in it, vaguely hearing their grandparents behind them tell of the different flags they had seen raised to that staff, were not grandparents themselves much be- fore they saw another flag officially raised to proclaim another domination over the city. From grandparent to grandparent, three memories contained the whole history of the place : the incredible, for that is wliat his- tory stores memory with, and so the grandmother of to-day passes on to the grandmother of the future tales of as open-eyed wonderment as she herself listened to at her grandmother's knee. To give them as they are thus being transmuted in their homely human crudity to tradition, — New Orleans abandoned herself, heart and soul, to the cause of the Southern Confederacy. The reasonableness of a man's self-sacrifice to a cause, or a woman's to a love, nuiy be questioned, but not the sublimity, surely not. While the city, as blind in her passion as when she defied Spain, was giving herself up more and more to her new devotion, pouring out, as if from inexhaustible sources, 300 NEW ORLEANS. 301 her men and her moiie}^, forgetting Jefferson's dictnm abont the mouth of the Mississippi, two expeditions were fitted out against her by the United States, one to come down the river, one to ascend from the Gulf. The hitter was successful. On the morning of the 25th of April, 1862, seventeen gunboats and a flotilla of smaller vessels rode at anchor in the river before lier, and she lay as helpless under their guns as she liad hdn under the guns of O'lleilly. To the populace it was the incredible that had happened, just as in the time of O'Reilly. The rain was pouring, as at the advent of the Spanish avenger, and, as then, the levee was lined with a despairing crowd. Some of the ships bore evidences of fighting, that was the only alleviation to the popu- lar feeling. There had been some lighting done. Courage was in fact the only thing that seemed ready in the emergency, everything else was incomplete, un- prepared, disorganized, through shameful, disgraceful, — the people even whispered, — traitorous, neglect and carelessness. What, they growled, were seven hundred men apiece in two badly equipped fortifications ? a straggling battery or two? an improvised, patched-up Hotilla of gunboats, manned by ignorant, undisciplined crews ? rafts ? iron chains, against the superb strength and equipment before them ? And these were only half ; as inany remained behind to bring the forts to terms. What availed against such a force the six thousand men given by the Confederacy to protect the city ? And even noAV they were evacuating the city with their general ! The curses were not muttered when tlie crowd on the levee spoke of this army and its commander. 302 NEW ORLEANS. Tlie sky was hidden by a canopy of smoke, streaked Avith flames. Heaps of burning cotton, sugar, salt meats, spirits, provisions of all kinds lined the levee. In the river the shipping, tug-boats, and gun-boats, floated down the current in flames. Molasses, running like water, flushed the gutters. All night the city had glowed in the lurid light of her own incendiarism. The little children, seeing the gleams through the closed windows, and hearing the cannons from the forts, trem- bled in their beds in terrified wakefulness. Deserted by their parents, and shrinking instinctively from their negro nurses, they asked one another in whispers : " Will the Yankees kill us all ? " The next morning, from old Clirist Church belfry, on Canal street, the bell tapped the alarm. Mothers called their children to them, and, sitting behind closed doors, listening, counting, cried, "• The Yankees are here ! " The children, horrified to see a mother weep, cried aloud, too, despairingly, " The Yankees are here ! " Slaves, rushing out, leaving the houses open, disordered, behind them, shouted triumphantly to one another, " The Yankees are here ! " The rabble, holding riot in the streets ; men, women, and children, staggering under loads of pilferings from the conflagration, cried, too, " The Yankees are here!" Early in the morning officers came from the flag-ship, bearing a summons to surrender. The mayor deferred to the military authority in command. The Confeder- ate general, evacuating the city with his army, put the responsibility back upon the mayor. During the col- loquy in the city hall, the populace surged and raged in the streets outside, hurling insults, imprecations, NEW ORLEANS. 303 threats, through the open windows, at the Union officers. A wikl hurrah herakled some new outburst. There was an expectant pause in the mayor's parlour. Through a window a ragged bundle was thrown into tlie room ; a mutilated, defiled, United States flag ; the flag that had just been hoisted over the United States mint by a barge crew. Some wild-spirited lads had instantly climbed the staff and torn the flag down, to drag it, followed by a hooting mob, through the street. The open window of the city hall and the uniformed officers inside were, in the temper of the moment, a heaven-sent opportunity for insult. Sustained by his council, the mayor refused to either surrender the city or lower the state flag over the city hall. The Federals could take the city if they wished, no resistance was possible. "We yield," he wrote, "to the Federal commander, to physical force alone, and maintain our allegiance to the government of the Con- Federate States. Beyond this a due regard for our dig- nity, our rights, and the flag of our country does not, 1 think, [termit me to go." The Federal connnander then notified the mayor to remove the women and chil- dren within twenty-four hours. " Sir," wrote the mayor to this, " you cannot but know that there is no possil)le exit from the city for a population that exceeds one liundred and forty thousand, and you must therefore be aware of the utter inanity of such a notification ; our women and children cannot escape from your shells. . . . You are not satisfied wdth the peaceable possession of an undefended city ; you wish to humble and disgrace us by the performance of an act against which our nature rebels. This satisfaction you cannot expect at our hands. We will stand your bombardment unarmed and defence- 304 NEW ORLEANS. less as we are. The civilized world will condemn to indelible infamy the heart that will conceive the deed and tlie hand that will dare to consummate it." It was finally decided that the Federals should take possession of the city, and themselves lower the state flag from tlie city hall. The mayor issued a proclamation requesting all citi- zens to retire to their homes during these acts of authority which, he said, it would be folly to resist, reminding them that at least their own authorities had not been forced to lower their flag. The people, not- withstanding, filled the streets about the city hall, a lowering, angry crowd that shook with wrath at the sight of the detachment of sailors and marines in United States uniform, which, with bayonets fixed, and preceded by two howitzers, crossed Lafayette square. They were halted facing St. Charles street ; the how- itzers were drawn into the thoroughfare and pointed at the crowd, up and down. An officer with attendants mounted the steps of the city hall and informed the mayor that he would proceed to haul down the flag. The mayor, a son of the people himself, and not schooled in the niceties of etiquette, answered, his voice trembling with emotion : " Very well, sir, you can do it ; but I wish to say that there is not in my entire constituency so wretched a renegade as would be willing to exchange places with you." The mayor then descended the steps of the hall and placing himself in front of the crowd and close to the mouth of the cannon pointing down the street, he stood there immovably with folded arms, and eyes fixed on the gunner, who, lanyard in hand, held himself in readi- ness for action. The crowd preserved a breathless NEW ORLEANS. 805 silence. The state tiag was lowered and the United States colours hoisted. The United States officers returned, the guns were withdrawn, the uniformed squad moved again across Lafayette square. As they passed through the Camp street gate they heard hurrahs behind them ; it was the crowd cheering their mayor. The naval authorities now handed the city over to the land forces, and General Benjamin Butler took possession with his army of fifteen thousand men. The regiments marched triumphantly through the streets to their quarters, l)anners flying, music resound- ing ; the negroes, in possession of the banquettes, gave themselves up to the celebration and exhibition of their new freedom. It was their hour of victory — and retribution. Men, women, and children — all, all were free alike, free and equal, for that was the way the l)hrase ran then. The white men looked on from win- dows and balconies ; the women still sat in doors, hold- ing their children together, and as the tread of the ])ass- ing soldiers, the blare of the music, the guffaw of the l)anquette crowd struck their ears, — they thought, not in the scientific truisms, political axioms or logical sequences, which since have taught them resignation, — and they did not shed any more tears. Their grandmothers had heard the shots by which O'Reilly murdered (as they called it) six as noble patriots and gentlemen as ever lived, but their grand- mothers had never felt — O'Reilly never dared — the insulting, degrading humiliation of this moment. Free, frt'c and e(piall And it was not tlic rich mother, the lady mother alone, who felt this, her look instinctively singling out her little daughters — the poorest mothers, 306 Ni:W ORLEANS. the commonest scrub of a white working woman felt the same humiliation put upon her gutter children — and cursed the power, the flag, the music, the soldiers that were doing it. It is all archaic now, and sounds ridiculous. But, however advanced and progressive a woman's brain may become, in an emergency she always seems to feel in archaisms. Negro soldiers, in uniform, ordering them! ! White men putting negro soldiers over them ! ! ! That was as far as their hearts and minds went then. It seems a trifling consideration in a great war what women feel; how the men fight is the important fact. But is it not what the women feel, in a war (the chil- dren feeling as the mothers feel), that dictates history in advance? Or, as it might be said, if to the men belongs the war, to the women belongs the peace after the war. At least it was so in New Orleans. The little children in Beranger's song beg about Napoleon, — "Parlez nous de lui, Grand'mere, parlez nous de lui." Tlie little children in New Orleans, when they are very good, are treated by tlieir grandmothers not to the thrilling adventures of Blue Beard and Jack the Giant Killer, but to tales of the Federal general in command of the city during the war. And not only the children enjoy these tales, any one, and — as the Creoles say, meaning Northerners — even the Americans, when they want (or want a visiting friend) to hear a good story well told, ask a New (Jrleans woman to tell her expe- riences after the capture of the city by the Federals ; and wherever she be, in Paris, on the Nile, or seated in her own parlour or on her own balcony, slie tells it. NEW ORLEANS. 307 always with the same verve, and always, it p()ssil)le, witli more and more burlesque. " lUit the improhahility ! The indiscretion! " Oli! that is another matter. If women are to tell only probable and discreet stories tlie Constitution had better be amended forthwith. Nothing less than oflicial dates can convince one that the regime in question lasted but little over six months; it seems inconceivable that so much could be packed into so short a time. And it was not laughal)le tlien. .\s INIadeleine Hachard says, one laughs over one's ad- ventures afterwards. From the first day, sentinels were stationed at suspected doors, and domiciliary visits made for arms, papers, flags, and other treasonable matter. Every runaway negro could carry charges of high treason and concealed treasures to the provost marshal, and have ladies' armoires promptly searched and bureau drawers run through by soldiers' hands, as, in old days, a dishonest servant's room was searched ; yes, and the lady, too, spoken to as if she were the negro servant and the theft had been proven. It was something to make children open their eyes, to hear mothers and grandmothers ordered about and told that they were untruthful, and see their pretty things tossed and kicked upon the floor. ( )h ! the provost marshal ! What terror that name struck to the childish soul ; it was so unintelligible, and it meant such almightiness of power! It is related by one of the Federal officers i)resent at the time, that, when flag-officer Farragut reported to General Butler the tearing down of the United States flag from the mint, the latter said : "' I will make an exam[)le of tliat fellow by hanging him." The naval officer smiled as he remarked : "' You know you will 308 NE]V ORLEANS. Jiave to catch him and then hang him."' " I know that, bnt I will catch him and then hang him." It was as easy for him to do both as it had been for O'Reilly to execnte his predetermination. The lad, Mumford, was arrested, tried by conrt- martial and condemned to be hung. A cry of horror arose from the city, and, as with O'Reilly, every means to obtain mercy was tried. It was represented and urged that the city had not surrendered at the time; that the hoisting of the flag over the mint was itself unwarranted ; the youth of the victim was pleaded ; the ignorance, the irresponsibility of the foolhardy act, the frenzied, delirious state of the public mind. In vain. An example must be made ; the insult to the flag must be avenged. The lad was hanged, and with line dra- matic effect, on a gallows in front of the mint, under the very flag-staff ; serried ranks of soldiers guarding the street. But see how unreliable a thing an exam- ple is, how it may turn and rend that very principle which it was begotten to illustrate. In vain, now, do historians plead and military authorities represent, in vain are explanations, denials, extenuations. Forever, in local eyes, will the front of the mint seem to bear the Cain mark of the gallows ; forever will that flag- staff seem to be draped with the anathemas that were uttered by every mother's heart, the day of the hang- ing of the lad. And for twenty years after that day there wandered through the streets of New Orleans a tliin, wrinkled, bent, crazy woman, wandering always, it seemed, as if by command, across groups of children on their way to and from school. The children never ran and shrank from her as from most lunatics. "Hush ! " they would say; "she is Mumford's mother.*' And NEW ORLExiNS. 309 they would tell the story to t)iie another, with all tlie improbable variations and versions, which madden his- torians, but which the sympathetic heart never fails to add. " But she is not Mumford's mother," many would insist. "She only thinks she is Mumford's mother." " She is Mumford's mother, all the same," would be the reply. During the school hours, the poor old woman would wander in the business thoroughfares, and when tired out she would crouch in the corner of some house- step and sleep, and the passers-by would slip a coin into her lap (she never begged awake). ''That is Mum- ford's poor mother," the}^ would explain. The doughty but unmannerly mayor was sent to the casemates of one fort, his young secretary to another, his legal advisers were shipped to Fort Lafayette. It was hard for the citizens of New Orleans to believe that these two great French lawyers, Soule and INIazureau, could be sent off like common felons. But that was in the beginning, when one could be surprised. First and last, over si:Jity prominent citizens were sent to the torts, or to that other well-proved place of imprison- ment. Ship Island, where the contumacious were fast- ened with ball and chain, and made to fill sand bags under a negro guard. With all the patriotism in the world to sustain their hearts and to preserve their dig- nity, the luxurious gentlemen of New Orleans some- times, when the sun was more unbearably hot than usual and no one was in earshot, were not above making an appeal occasionally to their black drivers, using old- time cajoleries. "Come now, uncle, let up a little." "Don't call me uncle ; I ain't no kin o' yourn." The stern rebuke lias passed into a proverb. Everybody was arrested -, clergymen for refusing to 310 NEW ORLEANS. pray for the President of the United States and all others in authority, editors for publishing Confederate victories, doctors for refusing fraternal recognition of Union doctors, druggists for selling drugs to persons going into the Confederacy, storekeepers for refusing to open their stores, a bookseller who exhibited a skel- eton marked " Chickahominy," any one possessing trea- sonable pictures or papers (illustrated papers favourable to the Confederacy). The commandant's system was so perfect, that he boasted he had a spy behind the chair of every 7'ebel family head in the city. The result was, that no man arose in the morning with any certainty that he might not spend the next night in jail. Even women were arrested. A lady was sent to Ship Island for laughing while a Federal funeral pro- ,/ cession was passing her house. An old lady teacher was sent to a prison in the city for having a Confede- rate document in her possession ; young ladies were arrested and carried before the provost marshal for -^ \ singing "• Dixie " and the " Bonnie Blue Flag." " The venom of the she-adder is as dangerous as that of the he-adder " was the legend General Butler had printed and hung up in his office ; it was adopted as the watch- word of his emulative subordinates. Every day women were brought to his Star Chamber by scores, to stand before him, while he sat cursing the men of the Con- federacy and lecturing them on their want of respect to the United States ; a Confederate flag had been found in their houses ; a miniature one had been worn in their hair or stuck in their fichus ; the flowers in their bonnets were arranged to represent Confederate colours ; they had their dresses fastened with Confeder- v/ ^y NEW ORLEANS. 311 ate buttons ; they had refused to enter a car or omni- bus in which they saw a Federal soldier ; they walked out in the street to avoid passing under the United States flag hanging over the banquette. The general however, bethought him of a correction of this dis- respect ; flags were hung not only over the sidewalks of the principal streets, but strings of them were stretched entirely across the street, and guards were placed to seize the women Avho tried to avoid passing under them, and compel the ordeal ; but even as they were being dragged under, the women would manage to draw their shawls over their heads or put up their parasols. And then General Butler launched his Order No. 28 against the ladies of New Orleans, the order that can only be alluded to in polite society ; that was condemned in the House of Lords as without precedent in the annals of war, and denounced in the House of Commons as repugnant to the feelings of the nineteenth century ; that drew from the " London Times " the comment that it realized all that had ever been told of tyranny by victor over the vanquished, and that no state of negro slavery could be more absolute than that endured by the whites in tlie city of New Orleans. A passing stranger, an alien, relates that he was caught on a street corner in a shower of rain one afternoon, and saw two curs fighting. The whipped one ran away, and he remarked that the cur was simply " making a change of base," which was a Federal newspaper's explana- tion of a recent defeat of one of the Union armies. The stranger was immediately arrested, conveyed to the custom house, imprisoned all night, and taken l)efore Butler in the morning. ''The general," so his account runs, " sat dressed in full uniform, with sword •, 312 NEW OBLEANSy /^- ^/i^' ) ''^>^'- on the table before him lay a loaded revolver, sentinels stood at the door, orderlies and soldiers crowded the anteroom. An Irishwoman was asking for a passport to go to her son in the Confederate army. After much billingsgate on both sides, ' Well, now. General Butler,' she said, ' the question is, are you going to give me a passport or are you not ? ' He coolly leaned back in his chair and with a provoking smile slowly replied: ' No, woman, I will never give a rebel mother a pass to go to see a rebel son.' She gazed at him a moment, and then as coolly and deliberately replied: ' General Butler, if I thought the devil was as ugly a man as you, I would double my prayers night and morning, that I might never fall into his clutches; ' and, bolting past the sentinels, she disappeared." It was at this period that the gentlemen among the Federal officers found their position under their com- mander intolerable, even for soldiers. Not being dis- ciplined to his mode of warfare, they had, from the day of their occupation of the city, been overstrained by their secret anxieties and their efforts in behalf of the vanquished. Like the Spanish officers under O'Reilly, they found a thousand common feelings to counterbal- ance the one great political difference ; past friendships, ties, relationships, if other reason were needed than the one that they were gentlemen, and their enemies women and children ; fearfully and restlessly they haunted the streets, swarming with arrogant negro and white soldiers, quaking much more before an application of their general's order than the women themselves did ; hence volumes of delicate episodes and pretty ro- mances, which the women of the period love also to relate. NEW ORLEANS. 313 The foreign consuls exerted themselves in every way ; the French consul exercising, as French consuls always will in New Orleans, a (ywast-paternal author- ity over the citizens, soothed, advised, helped. The captains of foreign vessels in port offered their friend- ship and assistance. It was needed under so energetic a conqueror. In September, all persons, male and female, who had not renewed their allegiance to the United States, or who held sympathy with or alle- giance to the Confederate States, were ordered to re- port themselves to the nearest provost marshal, with a descriptive list of all their property, real, personal, and mixed, their place of residence and their occupation, signed by themselves, to receive a certificate from the marshal as claiming to be enemies or friends of the United States. Neglect to register subjected the de- lin(juent to line or imprisonment Avith hard labour, or both, with his or her property confiscated. The form of the oath of allegiance prescribed was an "iron-clad" one. Another order required every householder to return to the nearest provost marshal a list of inmates, with sex, age, occupation, and a statement whether registered alien, loyal, or enemy to the United States, with the usual penalty for neglect. Policemen were held re- sponsible for returns on their beats. It was a virtual sentence of transportation against the families of Con- federate soldiers. The women and children, the registered enemies to the United States, allowed but little more than the clothing on their bodies, were put across the lines into the Confederacy. These were the fortunate ones who had means and connections in the Confederacy, but the majority, the Avidowed mothers whose sons were 314 NEW ORLEANS. in the army, the wives of clerks and workingmen whose husbands were fighting, these were forced to the per- jury of tlie iron-clad oath ; and of all the exigencies of the war, this was unqualifiedly the saddest, the costliest. Then followed the carnival of confiscations and auc- tion sales. The commandant-general had seized one of the handsomest residences in the city for his personal use. Those of his subordinates who cared to follow his exam- ple, selected each his house, ordering the owner out and taking possession ; and after these came the great number of civil employees, who had to be housed, and with them it was also a mere question of taking and having. But after these there were the camp followers, those who came, as the Duke of Saxe-Weimar would say, for the mere accumulation of wealth. It was for them a land of Canaan, such as they knew Providence would never repeat. Seizures and confiscations threw opportunities of a lifetime upon the market ; and while no man was sure when he arose in the morning that he would not spend the night in jail, no woman now when she arose in the morning was sure that she would not spend that night in the streets. The property of the registered enemies was not con- fiscated, but the alternative was little better. Not allowed to take anything but necessary clothing, and the time of preparation for departure being short, fami- lies of limited means were forced to sell everything at auction. The auctions were in the hands of a "ring." The sales were a mockery. A woman who considered her effects worth a thousand dollars might, it is said, if she were exceedingly meek and humble, and paid all commissions, receive a balance of twenty or thirty dol- NE]V OBLEANS. 315 lars. The auction marts, as may be expected, were crowded. Houses, horses, carriages, jewelry, wardrobes, silk and satin gowns, lilmy articles of ladies' under- clothing, family portraits, silver, were put up every day. A man with a thousand dollars bought ten thou- sand dollars' worth. A soldier's pay would purchase a family outfit. Camp followers, washerwomen, and cooks, Avore velvets ; real laces sold for the price of calico ; negresses went around blazing in jewelr}'. The treasure heaps of a Barataria were scattered broadcast in the city for two months. Entire libraries and sets of furniture, horses and carriages, pictures, pianos, clocks, carpets, cases of bric-a-brac, were packed and sent to distant homes. Silver, in banks or in table service, was always treasonable if in the possession of a Confederate S3'mpatliizer, as it was called, and it seemed at times that the s}^mpathy was only treason- able in proportion to the silver possessed. But there was a way of ransoming the silver and property, as there had been a way of ransoming delicate old gentle- men from Ship Island and the forts ; and if the women of the house were nervous, and their imaginations easily influenced by terror for themselves or their rela- tives, they did not haggle over terms or means, and the profit was the same to the avengers of loyalty. All this, as every one has explained since, until every one knows it, was only according to the fortunes of war. Even the children in their rudiments should have known it then, for what had their a, 6, c's served them unless to spell out how, in the past, this nation or man had conquered that nation or man, at this place and at that, and what had happened afterwards? and if even the women had considered, what they endured was r 316 NEW ORLEANS. infinitely easier warfare tlian history or romance had pictured, in many instances, even since the Middle Ages. But history and romance never disappear so completely from the memory as when experience in propria persoiia makes her appearance. " The fortunes of war " was also proven during these rare opportunities not entirely an allegorical expression; and in its other sense, the practical, it had chapters of enlightenment for the military novice as well as for the civil, for the conquerors as well as for the conquered, a truth which the following sufficiently illustrates. The Englishman, the alien in the Confederate States, as he calls himself, whose experience under the Butler regime has been quoted, relates that some years after he left New Orleans he happened to he on a steamer at Nassau, and observing some negro boatmen alongside throwing over meat to an enormous shark which they called Butler, he asked them why they applied such a name to an honest shark. They said it was because he kept away all other sharks from the bay, so as to have all the prey for himself. In December, General Banks superseded General Butler. The populace which, in the exercise of its infallible prerogative as populace, branded the first con- queror of New Orleans as " Bloody O'Reilly," has sent the second conqueror of the city down to posterity marked as "Beast Butler." Some civil organization of the place was now at- tempted on the new political basis. The military authorities had courts opened and appointed magis- trates, " Union " magistrates. The President of the United States appointed Union judges of tlie Supreme Court. An election was held, and a Union governor NEW ORLEANS. 317 elected, a Union constitutional convention was held, and a Union constitution of the state adopted, a Union leo'islature elected. The closed Protestant churches were unbarred and services were conducted in them by Union ministers, and there was even an effort made at social gayety; balls and receptions were given l)y the military authorities to Union guests, who practised social equality with the negroes. For long years, after all this was over, a coloured barber, famous in local circles (as all good barbers everywhere are famous) for his inimitable loquacity, used to tell how he once opened such a ball with the wife of the general in command (with what truth the word of a barber guarantees). But the story was a good one, and told most delectably, and the old seedy Confederates were glad enough to hear it, and laugh away some of their chagrin over it, and carry it home to their wives and children, who found it vastly amusing too. But to the natives, that period, to the close of the war, is vague and confused like the last hours of a long- vigil at the side of a death-bed. The newspapers pub- lished their Union versions of the battles outside, with lists of killed, wounded, and missing, until every other woman of the old New Orleans that walked the streets was in mourning. Gunboats steamed ever up and down the river on mysterious expeditions ; armies passed and repassed through the city, as if there were no end of men in the world to fight against the Con- federates. The hospitals were filled with Confederate wounded, the prisons with Confederate captives. The Confederate women in the city (those who had signed Butler's register, doul)ly perjuring themselves) now worked with desperate energy, besieging provost 318 NEW ORLEANS. marshals' offices, — bribing, deceiving, flattering even the negro sentinels on duty, — l3'ing desperately if need be, to gain admittance to the prisons and hospitals ; to get to the pallet of a dying boy, or to help an able-bodied soldier to escape. And they did escape, the able-bodied ones, by hundreds. And news had to be sent into the ConfedStacy, and medicines and surgical instruments. There was one woman contrabandist who distinguished herself above all, a young handsome Irish woman, who feared, as she said, naught and nobody; her confession once made and the sacrament received, and a package of medicine for the Confederates outside hidden about her person, if the night were only dark or stormy enough for her skiff to get by the sentinels and out into Lake Pontchartrain. Once she was sighted and fired into, but she rowed lier twelve miles over, with a bullet in her leg, and got back into the city the next day, with her return mail. The surrender of the Confederacy, the end of it all, is the one watershed at which all good stories, voluble resentments, gay denunciations, and humorous self- confessions turn back. It is the one item of their past over which the women of New Orleans shed tears- The rest is usually run into a hurried summary, one- sided, perhaps — most probably, but where there are two. sides of a thing or a question, the other side is always procurable, and one tells best the side one has learned personally. " C'est souliers tout seuls qui savent si bas tini trous " is a proverb of Creole mammies which can be understood ; " Shoes are only called upon to know the holes in their own stockings." There was one year of simple existence and endur- ance of the new condition of things : negro soldiers, NEW ORLEANS. 319 negro policemen, negro ol'licials, and hired negro menials; with United States soldiers in garrisons all around about and aides-de-camp in glittering uniforms galloping through the streets ; and the new })overty, new toil and stress, changed society ; the old sense of ownership of the city, which the very cliildren possessed, gone forever. It was a year of stupor and, as it seems now, of grace. And after that there is more, much more, to tell. It must be given here briefly. In 1866, Congress enacted that no seceding state could be re-established in its old representative rights in the Union until it had reconstructed its constitu- tion by a ratification of the fourteenth amendment, making negroes citizens of the state and of the United States, forbidding legislation to abridge their rights and excluding a certain class of ex-Confederates from office. As" such a reconstruction was optional, ])ut one of tlie Confederate States availed itself of the privilege of qualifying for representation. Congress therefore determined upon a forced reconstruction, and by the "• iron laws,*' as they have been well called, of 1867, put the Confederate States under military rulers, avIio were charged with the power and authority to work the machinery of constitutional government and recon- struct the states according to the plans laid down. The vote was registered in Louisiana ; 46,218 whites to 84,431 negroes, and a constitutional convention Avas called. It met in wdiat was then the Mechanics' Insti- tute (now old Tulane Ilall). The students in the neighbouring Medical College and Jesuits' College, who were just beginning, with the happy ease of youth, to forget their childhood horrors of war, were startled one 320 NEW ORLEANS. day over their school-books by pistol-shots, screams, and cries in the streets near them. Those who ventured to look out saw a wild, infuriated mob in the streets, and heard the cries of a hell in the great ugly build- ing in front, from which negroes trying to escape were climbing out of windows, and over the roof, dropping down wounded, bleeding, dead, in the surrounding court. This was the beginning of reconstruction, as middle-aged men and women now recall it, the response of the whites to the test oath and governing negro vote. To the children of the city, trembling and anguished, sent home from school after dark, under careful escort, it was a never-to-be-forgotten day. It has never been forgotten. But the negro vote nevertheless remained, and the test oath, and behind both the coercive power of the triumphant army of the United States. Tlie era of the " carpet bag " government set in ; the golden era for American enterprise, which, it may be said by an American, is never so brilliantly displayed as in politics. With an iron-clad oath barring every state and federal office, every court of justice, every jury, with the whole machinery of government framed for the one purpose of keeping them in power, with a registered vote of 84,000 negroes behind them, and the white population disfranchised into civil impotence, with the United States army always garrisoning their polling places, counting their votes and doing police duty for them — and with a returning board of their own to certify their elections, it is impossible to conceive of a more perfect millenium for the aspiring Republi- Cciu politicians of the day — and they recognized it. Ci jwds, carpet bag in hand, flocked from North, East, NEW ORLEANS. 321 and West ; hundreds, nay th(3nsands, liad not even to travel to it ; soldiers disbanded from the army one day became political leaders the next, stepping into office and fortune the following week. An ex-soldier became governor of the state, with a negro lieutenant-governor, and so on, black and white, Union soldiers and ne- groes, through every department down to the end. There was no end to tlie offices, nor to the office seek- ers for contracts, awards, monopolies, and grants and privileges carried what should have been the end of patronage or greed, — around to the governor again ; and so, the fingers of one touching the palm of the other, the circle was completed. The state debt was increased over forty millions of dollars. To quote a recent pub- lication :^ *' Tlie wealth of Louisiana made the state a special temptation to carpet-baggers. Between 1866 and 1871 taxes had risen four liundred and iifty per cent. Before the war, a session of the legis- lature cost from $100,000 to #200,000 ; in 1871 tlie regular session cost iil!900,000. ' Judge Black considered it * safe to say that a gen- eral conflagration, sweeping over all the state, from one end to the other, and destroying every building and every article of personal property, would have been a visitation of mercy in comparison to the curse of such a government.' This statement is not extrava- gant if his other assertion is correct, that during the ten years pre- ceding 1876, New Orleans paid in the form of direct taxes more than the estimated value of all the property within her limits io the year named, and still had a debt of equal amount unpaid." The old St. Louis hotel became the state house. George Augustus Sala, not then, but later, when affairs 1 " A History of the Last Quarter Century in the United States," K. IJfujamiu Andrcws,'^cril)ner's Monthly, Marcli-Jime, 1805. The autliiir, in the fores^oinc; and followiiii,^ is indebted to these articles for nmch beside the quotation. 322 NEW ORLEANS. were much improved, visited the House of Represent- atives assembled in the ball-room, and describes the forlorn appearance of the colossal pile which had once been the resort, as he says, of wealthy planters, their stately spouses and their beautiful and accomplished daughters. . . . "Wherever you turned, the spirit of dismalness seemed to have laid its hand. . . . New Orleans, I have more than once remarked, offers among all American cities pre-eminently a feast of picturesque form and bright and varied colour to European eyes ; but within the walls of the state house a universal mono- chrome pitilessly reigns, or rather the negation of all colour — black and white. But I was aroused from my reverie by the voice of a gentleman who was addressing the house. It was somewhat of a variable and capri- cious voice, at one time hoarse and rasping, at another shrilly treble, and the orator ended his periods now with a sound resembling a chuckle, and now with one as closely akin to a grunt. So far — being rather hard of hearing — as I could make out, the honourable legis- lator was remarking : *• Dat de gen'lm from de parish of St. Quelquechose was developing assertions and expurgating ratiocinations clean agin de fust principles of law and equity," upon which the orator sat down. . . . What was the precise mode of catching the speaker's eye I could not exactly discern, for more than one honourable gentleman seemed to be on his legs at the same time. When the contingency seemed to be imminent of everybody's addressing the house at once, the dull measured sound of the presi- dent's hammer, or ' gavel,' as in Masonic parlance the implement of order is called, was audible. Ere the orator who had apostrophized the gentleman from St. NE]V ORLEANS. 323 Quelqiiechose liad resumed liis seat, I liad ample time to make a study of his faeial outliue, for there was a win(k)w ch)se beliiud him, against which his profile was defined as sharply as in one of those old black sil- liouette portraits which they used to take for sixpence on the old cliain pier at Brighton. The hononrahle legislator had a fully developed Ethiopian physiog- nomy, but when he sat down I found that in hue he was only a mulatto. There were more coloured mem- bers in the house, some of them ' bright ' mulattoes and quadroons, very handsome and distinguished look- ing. ... A Southern gentleman pointed out to us one of the coloured representatives who, prior to the war, had been his, the gentleman's, slave and body- servant." . . . The returning board appointed by the governor to go over the returns as they came from the commission- ers at the polls and count the votes, decided, and it might be said awarded, the elections, or, as the people called it, counted in the candidates. Every year the test oath became less prohibitive, white youths attain- ing their majority and political disa})ilities being re- moved from elders by the pardoning power of the United States. To liberate the state from the machin- ery of negro and carpet-bag government, to put an end to the plundering of public finances, and to the making of laws and the distorting of courts of justice into polit- ical copartnerships with the ruling powers, and to free themselves from the military tutelage forced upon them, became the absorbing ambition of every Southern voter in the Southern state. This ambition effaced the issues of the Avar and the grinding necessities of the moment, and it united the men into a "• Solid South," which 324 NEW ORLEANS. was the Confederate postscriptiim of the war, to meet the Federal postscriptiim of reconstruction ; and the children, as they grew, grew into solidity against the military and civil tyranny over their country. In the passionate fervour of young hearts, they saw them- selves as a generation consecrated by parental blood and ruin and desolation to the holy service of redeem- ing the South from negro supremacy, and removing her neck, as they said then, from under the foot of her conqueror. This was the generation who had not fought but who were old enough to have seen the mis- ery of their parents through defeat. It was such a generation, under the leadership of tlie old soldiers and the great hero generals of the war, that the reconstruc- tionists attempted to reconstruct. In New Orleans the inherent political irascibility of the people made the place a volcano of political passion. The carpet- bag and negro party, despite its superior military and political power, saw itself becoming hopelessly over- matched by the civil and social power organized against it ; and, as in every other community in the South, the Southern whites and the negroes trembled on the brink of a racial war. Meanwhile, the reconstructionists quarrelled among themselves over the spoils, according to the monoto- nously regular experience of spoilsmen. The leaders — carpet-baggers no longer — over-rich in every form of wealth that Louisiana could give or negro votes legislate to them ; lands, bonds, and cash, monopolies and trusts, excited the jealousy of adherents in their own class and the distrust of the negroes. Our authority previously quoted heads his account of what followed: "Anarchy in Louisiana." NEW ORLEANS. 325 To borrow his succinct statement ^ of the facts and of the resultant situations: — "The election of 1870 gave Louisiana to the Republicans by a substantial majority, but almost immediately the party began to break up into factions. The governor was opposed by the leading federal officers, who succeeded in gaining control of the Repub- lican state convention. . . . On the death, during the previous year, of the coloured lieutenant-governor, a coloured adherent of the governor had been elected president of the Senate, but the Ad- ministration leaders declared his election illegal. . . . There was a bitter struggle in the House, during which the governor and a number of his supporters were arrested by the federal authori- ties ; and the speaker was deposed. A congressional committee investigated the quarrel, but could not quiet it. . . . " The governor and his coloured president of the Senate became estranged ; the governor headed a Liberal Republican movement, ^\hich after much manoeuvring united with the Democratic party in a fusion ticket. The coloured president of the Senate was nomi- nated for congressman-at-large by the Republicans, whose ticket was headed by a new carpet-bag candidate for governor. " The result of the election was hotly disputed. Two returning boards existed — one favouring the governor, the other the col- oured politician's ticket. The governor's board declared his ticket elected by seven thousand majority ; the coloured politician's board declared his ticket elected by nearly nineteen thousand majority : and each board made up its.own list of members for the legis- lature." . . . The members of the two Legislatures arrived in the city, determined to meet. At midnight, before the day appointed for meeting, the Republican leaders secured from a federal judge an order enjoining the Liberal legislators from meeting, and directing the United States marshal to take possession of the state house. 1 Not entirely verbatim ; dosi,;:;nat ions have been substituted for proper names, and some sentences slightly changed, in order to com- pass necessary abbreviations. 326 NEW ORLEANS. President Grant favovired the colourecl Republicans' claimants and ordered the federal troops to support him. On the morning of the day for the meeting of the legislature, a federal officer, therefore, stood at the door of the state house with a list in his hand, and admitted only those members permitted by the midnight order. A week later both governors took their oath of office. A congressional committee inves- tigated the dispute. It found that the Liberal candi- date was entitled to the government de jure, but that the Republican candidate, supported by the army, was de facto governor, a re-election was recommended. The recommendation, very naturally, was not adopted by the Washington executive. The Liberal governor and his supporters strongly protested against this de- cision, and although submitting to federal authority and deprived of power, retained tlieir organization as a de jure government. The campaign of 1874 was inaugurated. In Sep- tember the registration offices were thrown 0})en. The usual multiplication of negro registration papers fol- lowed, with the usual difficulties and impediments thrown in the way of white voters. The Republican governor had provided himself with a local army of his own, a body of metropolitan police, mostly negroes, paid by the city of New Orleans, but under his personal command and forming a part of his militia. Over against this force the citizens had organized themselves into a militia of their own, a "White League," with military organization, drill, and discipline. The metropolitan police were armed with breech- loading rifles supplied by the United States, as the state's quota of arms. The White League, save a NEW OliLEANS. 327 few fowling-pieces and pistols, was practically without arms. The governor's attempt to prevent the White League from arming itself precipitated the struggle. An order was issued forbidding the citizens to bear arms or keep them in their houses ; the police disarmed the citizens when arms were detected upon them, and liouses were searched. In the first week of Septem- ber two boxes of second-hand rifles were seized by the Metropolitans as they were being conveyed to a gun store. The owners claimed their property, and instituting legal proceedings obtained a decision from the court in their favour. The chief of police, ordered to surrender the guns, refused. Threatened with pun- ishment for contempt, he produced a pardon signed in advance by the governor. The attorney-general of the state, by virtue of a statute of the reconstruction legislature, against a crime defined as state treason, arrested and held the owners of the guns. Other guns were seized in a gun store, and another attempt was 'made to seize a shipment by rail. On Sunday, September 13, a steamer was expected with a su})ply of arms for the citizens. On Saturday niglit a large force of police, armed with Springfield rifles and one cannon, was stationed at the landing to seize the arms when they arrived. Monday a mass meeting was called at Clay's statue to protest against the seizure of the guns and assert the right of the citi- zens to keep and bear arms. The streets and side- walks were filled for several 'squares, and there was a general suspension of business. A committee was appointed to wait upon the governor and request him to abdicate. He had fled from the executive office to the custom house, a great citadel, garrisoned at that 328 NEW ORLEANS. time by United States troops. From his retreat he sent word declining to entertain any communication with the citizens. Their leaders then advised them to get arms and return to assist the White League in exe- cuting plans that would be arranged. About three o'clock the White League, mustering eight hundred men, formed on Poydras street, from St. Charles street to the levee. A company was stationed at St. Charles and Canal streets ; the street crossings to Canal street were barricaded with overturned cars. The Supreme Court building had been turned into an arsenal for the Metropolitans. They formed in Jack- son square, six hundred and fifty men with six cannon, two Catling guns, three Napoleons, and a howitzer. A force of six hundred of them held the state house. The report arriving that the citizens were in march to the steamship to protect the landing of their guns, five hundred Metropolitans, under command of the chief of police, were marched, with the cannon, to Canal street and halted in front of the custom house, and their* cannon pointed toward St. Charles street. The main body of them, with three cannon, then advanced to the levee and took their station there. Upon this, three companies of the White League moved out Poydras street to the levee, and took their position opposite the Metropolitans. The Metropolitans opened fire with their cannon and rifles. The White League attempted to reply with their one cannon, but it worked unsatis- factorily. Abandoning it, two companies advanced rapidly down the river bank, and under cover of the piled-up freight fired upon the Metropolitans at the cannon, with such effect that the negroes among them wavered and retreated. One of their Gatling guns was NEW ORLEANS. 329 turned to fire upon the levee. Taking advantage of tlie confusion among the Metropolitans and the lull in their firing the White League at Poydras street made a dash down the open levee and charged the battery. The Metropolitans broke and fled behind the custom house, abandoning their guns and leaving the chief of police wounded on the ground. A rally was made, and desultory fighting con- tinued in the streets for a short while, but in an hour all was over. When the Metropoli- tans returned to their arsenal, but sixty or sev- enty remained of the army of the morning. Fearful of the vengeance of the citizens, they had thrown down their arms, torn off their uniforms, and escaped to hiding- places. It w^as never known how many AN ere killed ; the pub- lished account ac- knowledges fifteen killed and seventy-five wounded. The citizens lost sixteen. The next morning the state house was in the cit- izens' hands ; two hours later the whole Metropoli- tan force surrendered, the barricades were torn down, the street cars resumed their trips. The coup cVetat "Re ^,^«t^ oJ^j.t.Miw-tlonijnent X;it»o 330 NEW ORLEANS. roused delirious enthusiasm throughout the state. The Democratic officials were everywhere installed in office. The Democratic governor had now repaired the flaw in his title. He was de facto as well as de jure governor of the state. As the three thousand citizens marched by the custom house to install their govern- ment, the United States troops crowded the windows and gave them three hearty cheers. But the triumph was cut short. President Grant commanded the insurgents, as he called them, to dis- perse in live days ; troops were ordered to New Or- leans, gunboats were anchored in the river, their guns aimed to sweep the streets of the city. The military commander received positive orders under no circum- stances to recognize the citizens' governor ; United States soldiers, in default of the Metropolitans, jDoliced the streets. The Republican governor issued from his asylum of the custom house and resumed his office. The citizens submitted even cheerfully. They had proved their point ; the carpet-bag government could be placed and kept in power by the United States soldiery, and in no other way whatever. The citizens who fell were honoured with the obsequies of patriot martyrs. A monument has since been erected to their memory on Liberty place where the Metropolitans' can- non stood. On the 14th of September — considered after the 8tli of January the proudest date of New Orleans — their graves are decorated, and the local journals and orators never pass the commemoration by without those words of praise and gratitude which would seem to be the noblest and only pension for true patriots. The election of 1874 passed quietly. The Demo- NEW ORLEANS. 331 cratic success was a foregone conclusion. The return- ing board, with its usual manipulations of counting out and counting in, gave the treasury to the Republicans and allowed them a majority of two in the legislature, leaving five seats contested. After recounting instances of illegal action and fraud on the part of the returning board, the Democratic committee issued an address to the people of the United States : — " AVe, the down-trodden people of once free Louisiana, now call upon the people of the free states of America, if you would your- selves remain free and retain the right of self-government, to demand in tones that cannot be misunderstood or disregarded, that the shackles be stricken from Louisiana, and that the power of the United States army may no longer be used to keep a liorde of adventurers in power." The congressional investigating committee " unani- mously found itself constrained to declare that the action of the returning board was arbitrary, unjust, and illegal." Nevertheless a few days before the assem- bling of the legislature. General Grant put General Sheridan in command of the department. The legisla- ture convened on January 4tli. As our authority states, the events of that day were memorable and unprece- dented. " The state house was filled and surrounded l)y Metropolitans and federal soldiers, and no one was permitted to enter save by the Republican governor's orders. The clerk of the preceding house called the assembly to order. Fifty Democrats and fifty-two Re- pul)licans answered to their names. A Democratic temporary chairman was nominated ; the clerk inter- posed some objection, but the Conservative members disregarding him, the motion was put and declared carried by a viva voce vote. The chairman sprang to 332 NEW ORLEANS. the platform, pushed the clerk (a negro) aside, and seized the gavel. A justice then swore the members in en bloc ... a new clerk was elected, also a sergeant- at-arms ; then, from among gentlemen who had secured admittance, assistant sergeants-at-arms were appointed. . . . The five contesting Democrats were admitted and sworn in. The Republicans now attempted to adopt their opponents' tactics . . . but the organi- zation of the house was completed by the Demo- crats. . . . Pistols were drawn, and the disorder grew so great that the federal colonel in command was re- quested to insist upon order. This he did. . . . The house proceeded with the election of minor offices. . . . At length the federal colonel received word from the Republican governor, which his general orders bound him to obey, to remove the five members sworn in but not returned by the board. The speaker refusing to point them out, a Republican member did so, and in spite of protests they were forcibly removed by federal soldiers. The Democratic speaker then left the house, at the head of the Conservative members; the Republi- cans remaining, organized to suit themselves." General Sheridan reported the matter, as his war reputation warranted that he should. He suggested that Congress or the President should declare the lead- ers of the White League banditti, so that he could try them by military commission. A public protest of indignation arose from the city. All the exchanges and the Northern and Western merchants and residents of the city passed resolutions denying the truth of the federal general's report, and, in an appeal to the nation, a number of New Orleans clergymen condemned it as "unmerited, unfounded, and erroneous." NEW ORLEANS. 333 A special congressional committee investigated the affair. It effected a " readjustment " by which the state was given to the Republican governor, but the decision of the returning board was reversed by seating twelve of the contestants excluded by it. The last act of the reconstruction drama was the election of 1876, when the returning boards of three Southern states threw out enough Democratic votes to give the states to the Republican candidate for Presi- dent ; but in Louisiana the state was, as it was called, returned to the Louisianians, and they, for the first time since 1802, entered into possession of the govern- ment. President Hayes withdrawing the federal support, the carpet-bag government collapsed. ; T--J-. ^^ Vr