The day of my first arrival at this capital of many waters, this city
_sui generis_, was one to which I had looked forward with much
impatience and highly-roused expectations.
The disastrous affair of 1812 had made New Orleans a name familiar to
Britain, and given to it a celebrity more general amongst all sorts of
men than its vast trade alone would have achieved for it in double the
time.
From the day also of my landing on the continent I had never heard this
city named without accompanying remarks being elicited descriptive of
its rapid increase, its singular position, and motley population,
together with the speculations founded on the promise of its future
greatness derived from its present healthful condition; that is, its
political and commercial sanity; since no term can be worse applied, as
illustrative of the views entertained of it by the North, whether
physically or morally considered; views however that, on both these
points, I have decided are singularly overcharged, even by persons one
would conceive possessed of the information likely to lead to a correct
judgment. This I attribute partly to the habit we are in of taking
reports of places for granted, and repeating them from father to son
without much personal examination, or rather comparison, and partly to
the changes constantly operating upon society here, with a rapidity at
least equal to the growth of building or the increase of produce and
population; changes which come like Duncan's couriers, "thick as hail,"
the last giving the flat lie to the truth just told; to be, in turn,
proved false by a successor.
To a stranger, the point of observance most original and striking, and
which will at once inform and interest him, is the view from the Levee,
with a walk along this artificial embankment, which commencing a hundred
miles above New Orleans, and thence waiting on the stream whose rule it
circumscribes, here bends like a drawn bow about the city, forming a
well-frequented quay of some seven miles.
For three miles of this, the Levee is bordered by tiers of merchant
shipping from every portion of the trading world, and close against it,
those of the greatest tonnage, having once chosen a berth, may load or
unload without shifting a line; a facility derived from nature that no
port in the world can rival.
Along the whole extent of this line situated below the Levee, but at a
distance of some two hundred feet, runs a range of store-houses,
cotton-presses, and shops, connected by tolerably well-flagged
side-walks; and certainly in no other place is such accommodation more
absolutely required, the middle space or street, so called, being, after
rain, a slough, to which that of Despond, as described by Bunyan, was a
_bagatelle_; and floundering through, or pounded in which, are lines of
hundreds of light drays, each drawn by three or four fine mules, and
laden with the great staple, cotton.[3]
At both extremities of the tiers of shipping, but chiefly at the south,
lie numberless steamboats of all sizes; and yet again, flanking these,
are fleets of those rude rafts and arks constructed by the dwellers on
the hundred waters of the far West; and thence pushed forth, freighted
with the produce of their farms, to find, after many days, a safe haven
and a sure market here.
Let it not be forgotten that many of the primitive-looking transports
lying at this point have performed a drift of three thousand miles.
Their cargoes discharged, they are immediately disposed of to be broken
up; their crews working their way back on board the steamers, to return
in the following year with a vessel and a freight, both of which are at
this time flourishing in full vegetation in field and in forest.
The interest with which I looked upon these far-travelled barks I dare
hardly trust myself to declare or to describe; they told me of men and
of their increase, who, only for the waters on which they live, would be
as little known and quite as uncivilized as the Indian whose land they
have redeemed from the wild beast or more savage hunter, to bid it teem
with abundance, and to be a refuge and a home for millions to rejoice
in.
The appearance of the Levee during this season is most animated. At the
quarter occupied by the great Western steamboats, the lading and
discharging cargoes seldom ceases during the busy months, when each hour
appears to be grudged if not devoted to toil. At night, fires mark the
spots where work is most brisk, and the warehouses along the line are
frequently illuminated from the street to the upper story: crowds of
labourers, sailors, bargemen, and draymen cheer, and order, and swear in
every language in use amongst this mixed population; and, above all, at
regular intervals, rises the wild chorus of the slaves labouring in
gangs, who, if miserable, are certainly the merriest miserables in
existence.
No scene is more likely to impress a stranger with a full knowledge of
the vast deal of trade transacted here in a few months than this
prolonged bustle at a time when the rest of the city sleeps; and, as he
pursues his way amongst tens of thousands of bales of cotton that
actually cover the Levee for miles, he will cease to doubt of the wealth
which he learns is on all hands accumulating with a rapidity almost
partaking of the marvellous.
I had heard in the North much said about the great danger incurred by a
night-stroll in New Orleans, and so will the stranger who next follows
after me: but do not let these bug-a-boo tales deter him from a walk
upon the Levee after ten P.M. It is not amongst these sons of industry,
however rude, that he will encounter either insult or danger: I have
traversed it often on foot and on horseback, and never met with the
first, or had the slightest cause to apprehend the latter.
In a city like this, amongst a concourse of strangers, the worst sort of
men are doubtless to be met with, as in all large cities; but surely not
in greater numbers. I question whether London or Paris can boast of less
crime in proportion; certainly, not fewer felonies. Here, it is too
true, a quarrel in hot blood is often followed by a shot or a stroke
with the ready poniard; but for this both parties are equally prepared,
and resolute to abide the issue: and for the stranger, all he has to do
is to keep out of low places of gambling and dissipation, and, if in a
large hotel, to keep his door locked; a precaution which would be as
much called for at Cheltenham or Spa, were the congregated numbers
equally great; although, in the latter places, I admit, the thieves
might be nicer men, better dressed, and not chewers of 'baccy.
The streets, after nightfall, are the very quietest I ever saw in any
place possessing one-third of the population. The theatres, I repeat, as
far as my observation goes, might serve as models to cities boasting
greater claims to refinement.
As a set-off, however, let the stranger visit the gambling tables, which
are numerous; the low balls, masked or other, occurring every night, for
whites or quadroons, or both; let him visit the low bar-rooms, or even
look into that of the first hotel, which bar forms a half-circle of
forty feet, yet is, during ten hours of the twenty-four, only to be
approached in turn, and whose daily receipt is said to exceed three
hundred dollars for drams; and he will, if such be his only sources of
information, naturally come to conclusions anything but favourable to
the moral condition of New Orleans.
The crowd so occupied, however, be it remembered, is composed of
strangers, or what is here called the transient population, at this
season counting at least forty thousand persons, the greatest proportion
of whom are here without a home except the bar-room of a public-house,
or a shelter save the bedchamber which they have in common with from
three to twenty companions, as luck or favour may preside over their
billet.
This assemblage is compounded of men from every section of the
Union,--the quiet Yankee, cautiously picking his way to fortune, with
small means and large designs; the gay Virginian, seeking a new location
on the rich land of Mississippi or Alabama; the suddenly enriched
planter of Louisiana, full of spare cash, which can only be got rid of
in a frolic, having settled with his merchant and purchased the
contemplated addition to his slave stock, and resolute to enjoy his
holiday after his own fashion; the half-civilized borderers from the
banks of the Gazoo, or the prairies of Texas, come hither with the first
produce ever won by industry from the swamp or the forest, to see New
Orleans, form connexions, and arrange credit for future operations.
Numerous as are these classes, they are yet readily distinguished by one
who has seen and observed them in turns, and noted their
characteristics, which are indeed sufficiently distinct.
The Yankee, slow, observant, concentrated, with thin, close-compressed
lips, bilious complexion, and anxious countenance, may be picked out
amidst a hundred other men, edging cautiously from place to place,
scanning every group, and having, as it were, eyes and ears for all
present.
The Virginian, tall of stature, thin and flexile of form, of an easy
carriage, with an open up-look, and an expression at once reckless and
humorous, talking rapidly and swearing loudly, frank in his _abord_, of
engaging deportment, and assuming as though there were no country so
good as the "Old Dominion," and no better man than her son.
The Kentuck farmer--whose marked characteristics are pervading all the
States bordering on the Mississippi, and who, together with the Buck-eye
of Ohio, will ultimately give tone and manner to the dwellers on its
thousand streams--of a stronger outline and coarser stamp, as is fitted
to and well-becoming the pioneer of the grandest portion of the
continent, and of one who is putting forth the thew and sinew of a
giant, to benefit posterity; his only present recompense the possession
of a rude independence, and the consciousness of increasing wealth, to
add to which his energies are unceasingly devoted; his relaxation,
meantime, an occasional frolic or debauch, which he grapples with, as
his father did with fortune and the forest, closely and constantly, only
pausing for breath through sheer exhaustion, or prostration rather. His
person is square, and better knit together than most men's; his
complexion clear, though bronzed by exposure to sun and storm; his
manner rustic, but not rude; with a self-possession that is evident at a
glance, and which makes him at all times equal to any chance or change
that may cross him. Good-humoured, sociable, and very observant, his
confidence is quickly won, or lost, according to a first impression.
Proffering largely, yet ever ready to more than make his words good;
full of kindliness to those he loves or esteems; boisterous, rude, and
ill to deal with, where he dislikes; capable withal of rapid refinement,
and having a ready perception of its advantages.
The Creole of Louisiana forms another distinct specimen to be met with
here, though seldom mixing much with either of the first named classes.
He invariably conserves much of the air and appearance of _la belle
France_, and can never be mistaken, offering, according to his
disposition, all the varieties of his original stock, from the amiable
deportment and companionable _bonhommie_ of the well-bred Frenchman, to
the fierce _brusquerie_ and swaggering sneer of the gallant of the
_estaminet_.
What will be the result of a complete amalgamation of all these classes,
which one day must arrive, together with an admixture yet more
opposed,--an admixture as certain nevertheless as is the march of time,
but which cannot now be named, and which these classes would each and
all shudder to contemplate,--an amalgamation that has already begun, and
is in truth in full progress; and this increase a falling-off in the
price of cotton, so as to render slave-labour less valuable, will
infallibly hasten in a ratio perfectly geometrical.
Time is the surest emancipator after all; for proof of which look not to
the prospect presented here, but turn back on the old States. At what
period did philanthropy triumph there? why exactly at that point where
interest joined issue with its dictates; the slave was, in fact,
admitted as a hired labourer, when he ceased to be profitable as a
bondsman: and that day will arrive here also, as surely as that the sun
shines on Louisiana; and the lower valley of the Mississippi will yet
be peopled by a free and hardy race, born on the soil made each year
more fruitful and less pestilential, until it shall rival the valleys of
the Ganges or the Nile, if not in the splendour of art, at least in the
more solid and enduring possessions,--education, intelligence, and
freedom; for only whilst so sustained can the institutions of democracy
exist; these once failing to advance hand-in-hand with population, the
whole fabric will, with inconceivable rapidity, be resolved into a rude
anarchy for some bold mind to re-form and re-model.
One of the greatest works now in progress here, is the canal planned to
connect Lac Pontchartrain with the city. In the month of February it was
completed to within three miles of the lake; and as it was a pleasant
ride to the point where the digging was in progress, I two or three
times visited the scene, after its bearings had been explained by the
two intelligent persons under whose guidance I first penetrated the
swamp.
I only wish that the wise men at home who coolly charge the present
condition of Ireland upon the inherent laziness of her population,
could be transported to this spot, to look upon the hundreds of fine
fellows labouring here beneath a sun that at this winter season was at
times insufferably fierce, and amidst a pestilential swamp whose
exhalations were foetid to a degree scarcely endurable even for a few
moments; wading amongst stumps of trees, mid-deep in black mud, clearing
the spaces pumped out by powerful steam-engines; wheeling, digging,
hewing, or bearing burdens it made one's shoulders ache to look upon;
exposed meantime to every change of temperature, in log-huts, laid down
in the very swamp, on a foundation of newly-felled trees, having the
water lying stagnant between the floor-logs, whose interstices, together
with those of the side-walls, are open, pervious alike to sun or wind,
or snow. Here they subsist on the coarsest fare, holding life on a
tenure as uncertain as does the leader of a forlorn hope; excluded from
all the advantages of civilization; often at the mercy of a hard
contractor, who wrings his profits from their blood; and all this for a
pittance that merely enables them to exist, with little power to save,
or a hope beyond the continuance of the like exertion.
Such are the labourers I have seen here, and have still found them
civil and courteous, with a ready greeting for the stranger inquiring
into their condition, and a quick jest on their own equipment, which is
frequently, it must be admitted, of a whimsical kind.
Here too were many poor women with their husbands; and when I
contemplated their wasted forms and haggard sickly looks, together with
the close swamp whose stagnant air they were doomed to breathe, whose
aspect changeless and deathlike alone met their eyes, and fancied them,
in some hour of leisure, calling to memory the green valley and the pure
river, or the rocky glen and sparkling brook of their distant home, with
all the warmth of colouring the imaginative spirit of the Irish peasant
can so well supply, my heart has swelled and my eyes have filled with
tears.
I cannot hope to inspire the reader with my feelings upon a mere sketch
like this; but if I could set the scene of these poor labourers' exile
fairly forth, with all the sad accompaniments detailed; could I show the
course of the hardy, healthy pair, just landed, to seek fortune on these
long-sighed-for shores, with spirits newly lifted by hope and brighter
prospects from the apathy into which compulsory idleness and consequent
recklessness had reduced them at home; and then paint the spirit-sinking
felt on a first view of the scene of their future labour,--paint the
wild revel designed to drown remembrance, and give heart to the
new-comers; describe the nature of the toil where exertion is taxed to
the uttermost, and the weary frame stimulated by the worst alcohol,
supplied by the contractor, at a cheap rate for the purpose of exciting
a rivalry of exertion amongst these simple men.
Next comes disease, either a sweeping pestilence that deals wholesale on
its victims, or else a gradual sinking of mind and body; finally, the
abode in the hospital, if any comrade is interested enough for the
sufferer to bear him to it; else, the solitary log-hut and quicker
death. Could these things with their true colours be set forth in detail
before the veriest grinder of the poor that ever drove the peasant to
curse and quit the soil of his birth, he would cover his eyes from the
light of heaven, and feel that he yet possessed a heart and human
sympathy.
At such works all over this continent the Irish are the labourers
chiefly employed, and the mortality amongst them is enormous,--a
mortality I feel certain might be vastly lessened by a little
consideration being given to their condition by those who employ them.
At present they are, where I have seen them working here, worse lodged
than the cattle of the field; in fact, the only thought bestowed upon
them appears to be, by what expedient the greatest quantity of labour
may be extracted from them at the cheapest rate to the contractor. I
think, however, that a better spirit is in progress amongst the
companies requiring this class of labourers; in fact it becomes
necessary this should be so, since, prolific as is the country from
whence they are drawn, the supply would in a little time cease to keep
pace with the demand, and slave labour cannot be substituted to any
extent, being much too expensive; a good slave costs at this time two
hundred pounds sterling, and to have a thousand such swept off a line of
canal in one season, would call for prompt consideration.
Independent of interest, Christian charity and justice should alike
suggest that the labourers ought to be provided with decent quarters,
that sufficient medical aid should always be at hand, and above all,
that the brutalizing, accursed practice of extorting extra labour by
the stimulus of corn spirit should be wholly forbidden.
Let it be remembered that, although rude and ignorant, these men are not
insensible to good impressions, or incapable of distinguishing between a
kindly and paternal care of their well-doing, and the mercenary
cold-blooded bargain which exacts the last scruple of flesh it has paid
for.
I have inquired much, and have heard many worthy, well-informed men
comment upon this subject, and feelingly regret the existing system; but
it is only by the close supervision of the Directors of Public Works
that this crying evil can be effectively checked, and the condition and
character of the labourer improved.[4]
At present the priest is the only stay and comfort of these men; the
occasional presence of the minister of God alone reminds them that they
are not forgotten of their kind: and but for this interference, they
would grow in a short time wholly abandoned and become uncontrollable;
unfortunately of these men, who conscientiously fulfil their holy
functions, there are but too few,--the climate, and fatigue soon
incapacitates all but the very robust. Those who follow the ministry of
God in the swamp and in the forest must have cast the pride of flesh
indeed out from them, since they brave the martyr's fate without a
martyr's triumph.
If a few of our goodly Cheltenham Parsons, the non-resident gentlemen,
who so laudably desire to uphold their church, were to come here, they
would find ample employment for their leisure, and might make hosts of
converts; for courage and kindliness of heart are irresistible in
appeal; and it is on these foundations, whether amongst the bogs and
mountains of Ireland, or in the wilderness of America, that the Catholic
priest of our days has built the unimpeachable influence he exercises
over his people.
The gloomy picture of the labourer's condition, which my mention of this
canal has drawn from me, may by some be considered overcharged; but I
protest I have, on the contrary, withheld details of suffering from
heat, and cold, and sickness, which my heart at this moment aches when I
recall.
To return to the canal. It in all probability will never be used for the
purpose designed, even when completed; it was, in fact, the bonus
proffered to the legislature by a bank which required a certain charter;
it will, at least, answer the purpose of a great drain, and so far must
prove of infinite local importance, the more especially since it is in
contemplation to redeem the whole of the surrounding swamp,--a measure
that, if effectually carried out, will probably render New Orleans as
healthy as any city south of the Potomac.
The police of this place I should imagine at present better than in the
Northern cities, since noise or disturbance in the streets is a thing
unknown, and after ten at night everything is usually still and quiet,
excepting upon the Levee, where work at this season appears to go on by
night as by day.