The legislature--Senators and representatives--Tenney--
Gurley--Ripley--Good feeling among members--Translated
speeches--Ludicrous situations--Slave law--Bishop's hotel
--Tower--View from its summit--Bachelor establishments--
Peculiar state of society.
During my accustomed peregrinations around the city yesterday, I dropped
into the hall of the legislature, which was in session in the government
house,--that large, handsome edifice, erected on Canal-street, alluded
to in a former letter. The senate and house of representatives were
literally _both_ upper houses, being convened on the second floor of the
building.
The rooms are large and sufficiently comfortable, though devoid of any
architectural display. The number of senators is seventeen; of
representatives, fifty. The majority, in both houses, are Creoles:
there being, as I was informed, nine, out of the seventeen senators,
French, and a small French majority in the house. The residue are
_citizenized_ northerners, and individuals from other states, who embody
no mean portion of the political talents and statesman-like qualities of
the legislature. Among many, to whom I had the pleasure of an
introduction, and whose public characters are well and honourably known,
I will mention Mr. Tenney, a native of New-Hampshire, and an alumnus of
Dartmouth college. He has, like many other able and enterprising sons of
New-England, struggled with no little distinction through all the
vicissitudes of a young lawyer's career, till the suffrages of his
adopted fellow-citizens have elevated him to the honourable station of
senator, in the legislature of the state which he has chosen for his
home. There are other northerners also, who, though in different
stations, have arrived at distinction here. Their catalogue is not
large, but it is brilliant with genius. The honourable career of the
accomplished and lamented Gurley is well known to you. He was a man
eminently distinguished, both for his public and social virtues; and in
his death his adopted state has lost one of the brightest stars of her
political constellation. And Ripley too, though shining in a southern
sky, sheds a distinguished lustre over the "land of the north"--the
country of his birth.
There is generally a large amount of business brought before this
legislature, and its sessions seldom terminate before March or April. In
their transactions, as a legislative body, there is a total absence of
those little, though natural prejudices, which might be presumed to
exist among members, so different from each other in education,
language, and peculiarity of thought. If a bill is introduced by an
American, the French members do not feel a disposition to oppose its
passage on that account; nor, when it is brought in by a Frenchman, do
they support it more eagerly or unanimously for that reason. A spirit of
mutual cordiality, as great as can be looked for in a political
assembly, pervades their whole body, to the entire exclusion of local
prejudices. Neither is there an exclusive language used in their
legislative proceedings. It is not necessary that the American members
should speak French, or _vice versa_, though it would be certainly more
agreeable were it universally understood by them; as all speeches made
by Frenchmen, are immediately translated into English, while those made
by the Americans are repeated again, by the translator, to the French
part of the house, in their own language. This method not only
necessarily consumes a great deal of time, and becomes excessively
tedious to all parties, but diminishes, as do all translations, the
strength, eloquence, and force of a speech; and, of course, lessens the
impression. It is not a little amusing, to study the whimsical
contortions of a Frenchman, while, with shrugging shoulders and restless
eyes, he listens to, and watches the countenance of, some American party
opponent, who may have the floor. The latter thunders out his torrent of
eloquence, wherein the nicest epithets are not, perhaps, the most
carefully chosen, in his zeal to express his political gall against his
Gallic opponent; while monsieur fidgets about in happy ignorance, till
the honourable member concludes,--when he jumps up, runs his open hand,
chin, and nose, almost in the face of the interpreter, "_arrectis
auribus_," and chafing like a lion; and before the last sentence is
hurriedly completed, flings down his gantlet,--throws his whole soul
into a rush of warm eloquence, beneath the edifying sound of which, his
American antagonist feels that it is now his time to look foolish, which
he does with a most commendable expression of mock _sang froid_, upon
his twitching, try-to-be philosophic features.
The president of the senate and speaker of the house are Frenchmen: it
is expected, however, that gentlemen filling these stations will readily
speak French and English. By an act of a former legislature, slaves from
other states could not be sold in this state, nor even those belonging
to Louisiana, unless they were owned here previous to the passage of the
law. The penalties for a violation of this law were fine and
imprisonment to the vender, and the forfeiture of the slave, or his
value. The law occasioned greater inconvenience to the citizens of the
state, than its framers had foreseen. It again became a subject-matter
for legislation, and a large portion of the members advocated its
repeal. This was the subject of discussion when I was present, and the
question of repeal was ably and warmly supported by Mr. Tenney, who is
one of the state senators. Though he is doubtful whether the repeal
will be effected this session, he is sanguine that it will be carried
during the next annual assembly of the legislature.[8]
Leaving the government house, with its assembled wisdom, I repaired to
my hotel, where I was to await the arrival of a friend, who had invited
me to accompany him in a ride a few miles below the city on the banks of
the river. I believe, in all my letters, I have yet been silent
respecting this hotel; I will, however, while waiting for my equestrian
friend, remedy that deficiency; for true to your wish, I will write of
all and every thing worthy of notice; and I am half of your mind, that
whatever is worthy the attention of a tourist, merits the passing record
of his pen. "Bishop's hotel," so designated from its landlord, has been
recently constructed, and is one of the largest in the Union. The
Tremont possesses more architectural elegance; and Barnum's, the pride
of Baltimore, is a handsomer structure. In the appearance of Bishop's,
there is nothing imposing, but its height. It has two fronts, one on
Camp, the other on Common-street. It is uniformly, with the exception of
an angular tower, five stories in height; its bar-room is more than one
hundred feet in length, and universally allowed to be the most splendid
in America. The dining room, immediately over it, on the second floor,
is of the same size; in which from two hundred and fifty to three
hundred dine daily, of whom, probably, not twenty are French. The table
is burthened with every luxury which can be procured in this luxurious
climate. The servants are numerous, and with but two or three
exceptions, slaves. They are willing, active, and intelligent. In this
important point, Bishop's hotel is every way superior to the Tremont.
There "pampered menials," whose every look and manner speak as plainly
as anything but the tongue can speak, "if you desire anything of us,
sir, be mighty civil, or you may whistle for it, for be assured, sir,
that _we_ are every whit as good as _you_." The insolence of these
servants is already proverbial. But white servants, any where, and under
any circumstances, are far from agreeable. In this point, and it is by
no means an unimportant one, Bishop's is unequivocally superior to the
Boston palace. With the coloured servant it is in verity, "Go, and he
goeth--Come, and he cometh--Do this, and he doeth it."
The sleeping apartments are elegantly furnished, and carpeted, and well
ventilated. There are two spacious drawing-rooms, contiguous to the
magnificent dining hall, where lounging gentlemen can feel quite at
home; and one of these contains a piano for the musical. From the top of
the tower, which is one of the most elevated stations in the city, there
is, to repay the fatigue of climbing the "weary, winding way," to the
summit--a fine panoramic view of the whole city, with its sombre towers,
flat roofs, long, dark, narrow streets, distant marshes, and the
majestic Mississippi, sweeping proudly away to the north, and to the
south, alive with dashing steamers, and glancing with white sails. The
horizon, on every side, presents the same low, level, unrelieved line,
that for ever meets the eye, which way soever it turns in the lower
regions of the Mississippi. A day or two after I arrived here, I
ascended to the top of this tower. The morning was brilliant, and the
atmosphere was so pure, that distant objects seemed to be viewed through
the purest crystalline medium. I would recommend every stranger, on his
arrival at New-Orleans, to receive his first general impression of the
city, from this eminence. He will regret, however, equally with others,
that the pleasure he derives from the prospect cannot be enhanced by the
aid of a good telescope, or even a common ship's spy-glass in either of
which articles, the "lookout" is singularly deficient; but the
enterprise, good taste, and obliging manner of Mr. Bishop have
contributed in all else, throughout his extensive establishment, to the
comfort, content, and amusement, of his numerous guests. A peculiarity
in this hotel, and in one or two others here, is the exclusion of ladies
from among the number of boarders; it is, properly, a bachelor
establishment. There are, however, hotels of high rank in the city,
where ladies and families are accommodated. They are kept by ladies, and
often agreeably unite, with the public character of a hotel, the
pleasures and advantages of social society. The boarding-house of Madame
Wilkinson, widow of the late Gen. Wilkinson, a lady distinguished for
her talents and accomplishments; that of Madame Herries, the widow of a
titled foreigner, I believe, in Canal-street, and one or two others
kept in good style, in Chartres-street, are the principal in the city.
Richardson's, a large hotel on Conti-street, is a bachelor
establishment, where the up-country merchants usually put up, when they
arrive in the city to purchase goods; though many of them, from choice
or economy, remain as boarders or lodgers on board the steamers which
bring them to New-Orleans, and on which, with their goods, they return
to their homes. Young unmarried men here, usually have single furnished
rooms, where they lodge, breakfast, and sup, dining at some hotel. There
are, in some of the streets, long blocks of one story houses, with but
one or two rooms in each, built purposely to be let out to bachelors.
Indeed, there are neither hotels nor boarding-houses enough to
accommodate one-tenth part of this class of forlorn bipeds. This
independent way of living, in practice among so large a portion of the
citizens and sojourners, in this city of anomalies, necessarily produces
a peculiarity of character and habits among its observers, which has its
natural and deteriorating effect upon the general state of society.