NEW ORLEANS IN 1847.--ITS EXTENT AND
SITUATION.--LAFAYETTE.--CARROLLTON, ETC.
Omitting an account of the many deadly quarrels which were constantly
fermented with the Indians--of the battles of the Louisianas with the
Spanish and English--of the horrible and unparalleled murder of twelve
of the principle citizens of Orleans, by the order of O'Reilly, the
Spanish commandant, who had invited them to one of his banquets--nay,
of a thousand interesting things connected with the history of this
romantic city, which could not have been embodied in these hasty
numbers, I proceed to consider its present condition and prospects.
The bend of land which sustains all this magnificence and wealth, is
very much like that opposite Montgomery. A citizen acquainted with
our localities, may very justly imagine New Orleans to commence on
the west side of the Alabama, below Jackson's Ferry, continuing on
by Bibb's gate and terminating just below town.--Opposite old Alabama
town he may suppose the city of Lafayette to commence, then, further
on, the town of Bouligny, and then Carrollton.
The city proper is, by the river, five miles long, and will average
three-fourths of a mile wide. Then commences Lafayette, which extends
up the river two miles further, and, as they are so intimately
connected and associated, it all may be considered as one vast place,
seven miles in extent. After a succession of splendid mansions, farms,
and other houses, the whole resembling a continued village, Bouligny
and Carrollton unite with the chain of commerce. A century from this
date, Orleans, like London, will reach out her arms and encompass
within her limits every town and hamlet for miles around. As London
swallowed up Westminster, Southwark, Lambeth, and Chelsea, so will
Lafayette, Bouligny, Carrollton, and others adjacent be lost in her
future immensity. It will then all be New Orleans, the largest city on
the continent of America, and perhaps in the world.
The foundation consists of a plain inclining from the river, and when
looking from the St. Charles to the Levee, the singular spectacle is
presented of ships and boats standing raised up before you, and the
little rivulet in the street, just after a rain, running in a smart
current by you and losing itself in the swamp, as if afraid to mingle
with the "Father of Waters." As health and cleanliness are greatly
promoted by this gentle inclined plain, it is most fortunate that
Orleans is so situated. In ancient times the inhabitants were either
amphibious or lived at great sufferance from the floods. But now they
are protected by the Levee. A stranger however, upon the impulse,
would think that protection uncertain. But if he would reflect for a
moment, he would wisely determine that it requires not a very strong
dyke to pen up the surplus water during a freshet, for the main
current is confined by immense banks reaching far, far below. To
render my position more palpable, suppose the river should suddenly
dry up, Orleans would then be standing on a bluff three hundred and
sixty feet high, for that is the depth of the river opposite the
city. The foundation, a low alluvial bottom, has been much improved by
draining and filling up. No building is erected without the foundation
is made firm by piling with long logs driven down with immense force;
but very massive buildings, even with this precaution, will continue
to settle. It is said that the St. Charles is two feet lower now than
formerly. Three great streets divide the city into municipalities.
Between Canal and Esplanade, lies the first Municipality, between
Esplanade and the lowest street on the outskirts, far down the river,
lies the Third Municipality; and between Canal and Felicity, is
the Second. They are wide and beautiful streets, running perfectly
straight from the river to the farthest back limits, serving not
only as boundaries for municipal purposes, but absolutely separating
different races. The everlasting Yankees, with their shrewdness and
enterprize, inhabit the Second Municipality; the wealthy French and
Spanish fill up the First, with a large mixture of native Americans;
but the Third Municipality is entirely French and Spanish. It was
impossible for me to ascertain how many streets run through the
city, but there are many. No fault can be found of the topography of
Orleans, and it is strange that the regularity of the thorough
fares should have been so well preserved under all the changes and
vicissitudes through which she has passed. Everything is of interest
here; even the names of the streets attract the notice of the visitor;
and as he rides along, he may trace the different races who have
formed and named them. He will pass through streets which the
descendants of Spain first laid out, such as Esplanade, Ferdinand
Casacalvo, Morales, and Perdido. Again his eye will glance at French
names, such as Josephine, Bourbon, Chartres, Notre Dame, Dauphin, and
Toulouse. Then there are various streets bearing the names of all the
saints known to the Catholic devotee. In respect to names very little
of Orleans has been Americanized. Occasionally you will meet with such
names as Commerce and Canal, which doubtless sound very vulgar to the
the French. But the master street of the world is the great Levee,
usually from two to five hundred feet wide from the river to the
buildings. From this great thoroughfare all others diverge, and it
is the greatest mart of its extent in the world. While I was there,
THIRTY-SIX THOUSAND BARRELS OF FLOUR were sold in a few hours! And
while this astonishing transfer was going on, thousands of other
produce and commodities were changing hands. Many years ago it
was used as a fashionable promenade to enjoy the breezes of the
Mississippi. Commerce has changed its character entirely. Now scenes
of the most intensely exciting character are upon the Levee. The
very air howls with an eternal din and noise. Drays and wagons of
all descriptions, loaded with the produce of every clime, move on
continually in one unbroken chain. Ships from every nation, whose
masts tower aloft in a dense forest for five miles, with thirty
thousand sailors and stevedores, busily loading and unloading, stand
in your view. Steamboats, and crafts of every make and shape, from
every river which empties into the Mississippi, are here mingling in
the strife of commerce. The rough and homely produce of the far and
cold Iowa--of the distant Wisconsin--of the black and stormy Northern
Lakes, is here thrown upon the Levee in hurry and confusion mingled
and mixed with the sweets and luxuries of the sunny tropics. Here,
too, the various races of men astonish one. The Kentuckian with an
honest and ruddy face; the Yankee with his shrewd and enterprising
look; the rich planter of Mississippi; the elegant and chivalrous
Carolinian; the sensible and honest citizen from the "Old North
State;" the lively, fine-looking, and smart Georgian; the talented and
handsome Virginian; the swarthy creole sugar planter; the rough hunter
from the gorges of the Rocky Mountains--all natives of the Union--all
freemen alike--all meet upon this common ground of LIBERTY and
COMMERCE. And this picture must be carried out with the children of
_adoption_. Here is also the dark and mysterious Spaniard puffing his
cigar and sending up volumes of smoke through his black imperials; the
gay and frisky Frenchman; the sturdy Dutchman; the son of Erin, and
the cunning Jew. A trite adage says that "it takes all kinds of people
to make a world;" verily, then, the Levee is a world.