THE ROADS IN THE ENVIRONS.--THE TOWN OF CARROLLTON.--THE WOOD
YARDS.--RIVER-BOTTOMS, ETC.
Of the various delightful rides in the environs of the city, none
affords so much interest as the route to Carrollton. You reach that
place on a railroad, commencing in the upper part of the second
municipality, and running a third of the way through the suburbs of
Lafayette, the remainder passing over a wide and lovely plain, with
the Mississippi river on your left, and the deep and dismal swamp on
your right. It is impossible to conceive a more interesting level than
this, for as far as the eye can reach, objects of both nature and art
are most agreeably presented. The road first passes a splendid
country seat, resembling in appearance our imperfect ideas of a French
chateau, surrounded with shrubbery of the greenest shade, with orange
trees covered with buds and blossoms whose fragrance embalms the air,
and burthened with golden globes which richly glitter in the sun. And
next you see spread out upon this beautiful plain, heads of cattle and
sheep grazing upon the soft green sward, which none but the alluvial
bottoms of the noble Mississippi can afford in such inviting
varieties. Further on, you enter a pecan grove, resembling some of
the oaks in our forests, but every tree alike--all of the same
size--bearing aloft the nutricious nuts which make them so celebrated.
The road passes by many handsome seats and villas, the style of which
at once indicates the taste and wealth of the inmates.
While enjoying this interesting ride, my mind suddenly fell back upon
Orleans, and was at once wrapt in thoughts of futurity. An hundred
years hence, where now browze those innocent cattle in undisturbed
silence--where now grow the green grass, "the vine and the
fig-tree,"--will then be occupied by churches, towers, hotels, and
theatres! What place is this? It is a part of New Orleans the queen
city of America.
Carrollton is a small place, but contains some fine residences; and
there is a large public garden, tastefully laid out, belonging to
the railroad company. The sale of wood seems to be the principal
employment of the inhabitants. Rafts containing one hundred large logs
about fifty feet long, almost entirely of ash, pinned together, are
floated down from all parts of the world above Orleans, from as high
up as Missouri. While winding their way through the torturous currents
of the river, these raftsmen may be considered the most independent
set of people that navigate the great watery thoroughfare. All boats
and crafts avoid them and they have nothing to fear. A small hut of
the most temporary character, made of boards, and sometimes the bottom
of an old yawl turned up, is all the covering these amphibious and
nondescript watermen have. Upon landing, the raft is sold to the
proprietor of the wood yard. A log at a time is hauled upon the levee
by large chains attached to a stationary windlass. It is then sawed
into blocks four feet long, bolted up and put in cords which are
sold for four dollars. At one of the wood yards, thirty hands were
employed, and they sold $15,000 worth of wood per year.
I must ask pardon for so often recurring to Mr. Calhoun's great
"inland sea." It is to me the most interesting of all objects. I sat
upon the levee at Carrollton. I saw it in all its might and majesty,
nothing interposing to intercept the view. I thought of the countless
number of rills, of the many creeks, of the numerous lakes, and of the
untold rivers, rising in different regions and latitudes thousands
of miles apart, combining every variety of minerals known to the
continent--here passing by me, confined in one vast and deep channel,
lashing its banks with violence, and pressing onward and onward its
mighty waters to the briney sea! I cannot say, "to its ocean home,"
for it has none. It finds no resting place in the Gulf like other
rivers, but the sea groans and gives way to its immensity, and we find
its discoloured current far within the tropics! The reader of this
number being well acquainted with the low, marshy, dismal character of
the several mouths of the Mississippi, will doubtless be surprised at
being informed that there is a mountain there near four hundred feet
high! He has only to reflect that the river from Natchez to the Balize
is usually from three to four hundred feet deep; across the bar there
is only eighteen feet water; beyond the bar, just in the ocean, the
Gulf is unfathomable. So, then, the river in going into the sea, has
to pass over a mountain, which it is strange has not been washed
away, for the river, as before observed, is not arrested in its onward
course by the ocean to much extent.
The levee at Carrollton is considerably higher than the plain upon
which reposes the town. This great work that has occupied the labor,
time, and enterprize of Louisiana for years, appears to afford a
permanent and durable protection from the floods of the river.
It commences at Fort Plaquemines, and extends to Baton Rouge, the
distance of one hundred and sixty-three miles, on the east side of
the river; on the west side it extends as high up as Arkansas. It will
average four feet high and fifteen feet wide, and follows the river in
its winding course. A visitor, seeing no ditch from which the earth
is taken to erect this artificial dyke, is at first at a loss to
know where soil was obtained to make it. On the margin of the river a
continual deposit is forming called "batture;" this is drawn back from
the river and makes the levee. It soon becomes soil, and has given
rise to much litigation, for ownership is exercised over it when
formed. The levee has not given way in a long time, to do any
extensive damage. Near this place, in 1816, the river rising to an
unprecedented height, broke through and inundated much of Orleans; but
governor Claiborne had a vessel sunk in the crevasse, which stopped
it.