Carrying arms--New Orleans jail--Desperate
characters--Executions--Female maniacs and prisoners--The
river and levee--Climate of New Orleans--Population--General
distress--Pressure of the blockade--Money--Philosophy of abstract
rights--The doctrine of state rights--Theoretical defect in the
constitution.
_May 31st._--I went with Mr. Mure to visit the jail. We met the
sheriff, according to appointment, at the police court. Something
like a sheriff--a great, big, burly, six-foot man, with revolvers
stuck in his belt, and strength and arms quite sufficient to enable
him to execute his office in its highest degree. Speaking of the
numerous crimes committed in New Orleans, he declared it was a
perfect hell upon earth, and that nothing would ever put an end
to murders, manslaughters, and deadly assaults till it was made
penal to carry arms; but by law every American citizen may walk
with an armoury round his waist if he likes. Bar-rooms, cocktails,
mint-juleps, gambling-houses, political discussions, and imperfect
civilization do the rest.
The jail, is a square whitewashed building, with cracked walls and
barred windows. In front of the open door were seated four men
on chairs, with their legs cocked against the wall, smoking and
reading newspapers. “Well, what do you want?” said one of them,
without rising. “To visit the prison.” “Have you got friends
inside, or do you carry an order?” The necessary document from our
friend the sheriff was produced. We entered through the doorway,
into a small hall, at the end of which was an iron grating and
door. A slightly-built young man, who was lolling in his shirt
sleeves on a chair, rose and examined the order, and, taking down
a bunch of keys from a hook, and introducing himself to us as one
of the warders, opened the iron door, and preceded us through a
small passage into a square court-yard, formed on one side by a
high wall, and on the other three by windowed walls and cells,
with doors opening on the court. It was filled with a crowd of men
and boys; some walking up and down, others sitting, and groups on
the pavement; some moodily apart, smoking or chewing; one or two
cleaning their clothes or washing at a small tank. We walked into
the midst of them, and the warder, smoking his cigar and looking
coolly about him, pointed out the most desperate criminals.
This crowded and most noisome place was filled with felons of
every description, as well as with poor wretches merely guilty
of larceny. Hardened murderers, thieves, and assassins were
here associated with boys in their teens who were undergoing
imprisonment for some trifling robbery. It was not pleasant to rub
elbows with miscreants who lounged past, almost smiling defiance,
whilst the slim warder, in his straw hat, shirt sleeves, and
drawers told you how such a fellow had murdered his mother, how
another had killed a policeman, or a third had destroyed no less
than three persons in a few moments. Here were seventy murderers,
pirates, burglars, violaters, and thieves circulating among men
who had been proved guilty of no offence, but were merely waiting
for their trial.
A verandah ran along one side of the wall, above a row of small
cells, containing truckle beds for the inmates. “That’s a desperate
chap, I can tell you,” said the warder, pointing to a man who,
naked to his shirt, was sitting on the floor, with heavy irons
on his legs, which they chafed notwithstanding the bloody rags
around them, engaged in playing cards with a fellow prisoner, and
smoking with an air of supreme contentment. The prisoner turned at
the words, and gave a kind of grunt and chuckle, and then played
his next card. “That,” said the warder, in the proud tone of a
menagerie keeper exhibiting his fiercest wild beast, “is a real
desperate character; his name is Gordon: I guess he comes from
your country; he made a most miraculous attempt to escape, and all
but succeeded; and you would never believe me if I told you that
he hooked on to that little spout, climbed up the angle of that
wall there, and managed to get across to the ledge of that window
over the outside wall before he was discovered.” And indeed it did
require the corroborative twinkle in the fellow’s eye, as he heard
of his own exploit, to make me believe that the feat thus indicated
could be performed by mortal man.
“There’s where we hang them,” continued he, pointing to a small
black door, let into the wall, about 18 feet from the ground, with
some iron hooks above it. “They walk out on the door, which is
shot on a bolt, and when the rope is round their necks from the
hook, the door’s let flop, and they swing over the court-yard.” The
prisoners are shut up in their cells during the execution, but they
can see what is passing, at least those who get good places at
the windows. “Some of them,” added the warder, “do die very brave
indeed. Some of them abuse as you never heard. But most of them
don’t seem to like it.”
Passing from the yard, we proceeded up-stairs to the first floor,
where were the debtors’ rooms. These were tolerably comfortable,
in comparison to the wretched cells we had seen; but the poorer
debtors were crowded together, three or four in a room. As far as
I could ascertain, there is no insolvency law, but the debtor is
free, after ninety days’ imprisonment, if his board and lodging be
paid for. “And what if they are not?” “Oh, well, in that case we
keep them till all is paid, adding of course for every day they are
kept.”
In one of these rooms, sitting on his bed, looking wicked and
gloomy, and with a glare like that of a wild beast in his eyes, was
a Doctor Withers, who a few days ago murdered his son-in-law and
his wife, in a house close to Mr. Mure’s. He was able to pay for
this privilege, and “as he is a respectable man,” said the warder,
“perhaps he may escape the worst.”
Turning from this department into another gallery, the warder
went to an iron door, above which was painted a death’s head and
cross-bones, beneath were the words “condemned cell.”
He opened the door, which led to a short narrow covered gallery,
one side of which looked into a court-yard, admitting light into
two small chambers, in which were pallets of straw covered with
clean counterpanes.
Six men were walking up and down in the passage. In the first room
there was a table, on which were placed missals, neatly bound,
and very clean religious books, a crucifix, and _Agnus Dei_. The
whitewashed wall of this chamber was covered with most curious
drawings in charcoal or black chalk, divided into compartments, and
representing scenes in the life of the unhappy artist, a Frenchman,
executed some years ago for murdering his mistress, depicting his
temptations--his gradual fall from innocence--his society with
abandoned men and women--intermingled with Scriptural subjects,
Christ walking on the waters, and holding out his hand to the
culprit--the murderer’s corpse in the grave--angels visiting and
lamenting over it;--finally, the resurrection, in which he is seen
ascending to heaven!
My attention was attracted from this extraordinary room to an open
gallery at the other side of the court-yard, in which were a number
of women with dishevelled hair and torn clothes, some walking up
and down restlessly, others screaming loudly, while some with
indecent gestures were yelling to the wretched men opposite to
them, as they were engaged in their miserable promenade.
Shame and horror to a Christian land! These women were maniacs!
They are kept here until there is room for them at the State
Lunatic Asylum. Night and day their terrible cries and ravings echo
through the dreary, waking hours and the fitful slumbers of the
wretched men so soon to die.
Two of those who walked in that gallery are to die to-morrow.
What a mockery--the crucifix!--the _Agnus Dei_!--the holy books! I
turned with sickness and loathing from the dreadful place. “But,”
said the keeper, apologetically, “there’s not one of them believes
he’ll be hanged.”
* * * * *
We next visited the women’s gallery, where female criminals of
all classes are huddled together indiscriminately. On opening the
door, the stench from the open verandah, in which the prisoners
were sitting, was so vile that I could not proceed further; but I
saw enough to convince me that the poor, erring woman who was put
in there for some trifling offence, and placed in contact with the
beings who were uttering such language as we heard, might indeed
leave hope behind her.
The prisoners have no beds to sleep upon, not even a blanket, and
are thrust in to lie as they please, five in each small cell.
It may be imagined what the tropical heat produces under such
conditions as these; but as the surgeon was out, I could obtain no
information respecting the rates of sickness or mortality.
I next proceeded to a yard somewhat smaller than that appropriated
to serious offenders, in which were confined prisoners condemned
for short sentences, for such offences as drunkenness, assault, and
the like. Among the prisoners were some English sailors, confined
for assaults on their officers, or breach of articles; all of whom
had complaints to make to the Consul, as to arbitrary arrests and
unfounded charges. Mr. Mure told me that when the port is full he
is constantly engaged inquiring into such cases; and I am sorry to
learn that the men of our commercial marine occasion a good deal of
trouble to the authorities.
I left the prison in no very charitable mood towards the people
who sanctioned such a disgraceful institution, and proceeded to
complete my tour of the city.
The “Levee,” which is an enormous embankment to prevent the
inundation of the river, is now nearly deserted except by the river
steamers, and those which have been unable to run the blockade.
As New Orleans is on an average three feet below the level of the
river at high water, this work requires constant supervision; it is
not less than fifteen feet broad, and rises five or six feet above
the level of the adjacent street, and it is continued in an almost
unbroken line for several hundreds of miles up the course of the
Mississippi. When the bank gives way, or a “crevasse,” as it is
technically called, occurs, the damage done to the plantations has
sometimes to be calculated by millions of dollars; when the river
is very low there is a new form of danger, in what is called the
“caving in” of the bank, which, left without the support of the
water pressure, slides into the bed of the giant river.
New Orleans is called the “crescent city” in consequence of its
being built on a curve of the river, which is here about the
breadth of the Thames at Gravesend, and of great depth. Enormous
cotton presses are erected near the banks, where the bales are
compressed by machinery before stowage on shipboard, at a heavy
cost to the planter.
The custom-house, the city-hall, and the United States mint, are
fine buildings, of rather pretentious architecture; the former is
the largest building in the States, next to the capital. I was
informed that on the levee, now almost deserted, there is during
the cotton and sugar season a scene of activity, life, and noise,
the like of which is not in the world. Even Canton does not show
so many boats on the river, not to speak of steamers, tugs, flat
boats, and the like; and it may be easily imagined that such is the
case, when we know that the value of the cotton sent in the year
from this port alone exceeds twenty millions sterling, and that
the other exports are of the value of at least fifteen millions
sterling, whilst the imports amount to nearly four millions.
As the city of New Orleans is nearly 1700 miles south of New York,
it is not surprising that it rejoices in a semi-tropical climate.
The squares are surrounded with lemon-trees, orange-groves, myrtle,
and magnificent magnolias. Palmettoes and peach-trees are found in
all the gardens, and in the neighbourhood are enormous cypresses,
hung round with the everlasting Spanish moss.
The streets of the extended city are different in character from
the narrow chaussées of the old town, and the general rectangular
arrangement common in the United States, Russia, and British Indian
cantonments is followed as much as possible. The markets are
excellent, each municipality, or grand division, being provided
with its own. They swarm with specimens of the composite races
which inhabit the city, from the thorough-bred, woolly-headed
negro, who is suspiciously like a native-born African, to the
Creole who boasts that every drop of blood in his veins is purely
French.
I was struck by the absence of any whites of the labouring classes,
and when I inquired what had become of the men who work on the
levee and at the cotton presses in competition with the negroes, I
was told they had been enlisted for the war.
I forgot to mention that among the criminals in the prison there
was one Mr. Bibb, a respectable citizen, who had a little affair of
his own on Sunday morning.
Mr. Bibb was coming from market, and had secured an early copy of a
morning paper. Three citizens, anxious for news, or, as Bibb avows,
for his watch and purse, came up and insisted that he should read
the paper for them. Bibb declined, whereupon the three citizens,
in the full exercise of their rights as a majority, proceeded to
coerce him; but Bibb had a casual revolver in his pocket, and in a
moment he shot one of his literary assailants dead, and wounded the
two others severely, if not mortally. The paper which narrates the
circumstances, in stating that the successful combatant had been
committed to prison, adds, “great sympathy is felt for Mr. Bibb.”
If the Southern minority is equally successful in its resistance
to _force majeure_ as this eminent citizen, the fate of the
Confederacy cannot long be doubtful.
_June 1st._ The respectable people of the city are menaced with
two internal evils in consequence of the destitution caused by the
stoppage of trade with the North and with Europe. The municipal
authorities, for want of funds, threaten to close the city schools,
and to disband the police; at the same time employers refuse to pay
their workmen on the ground of inability. The British Consulate
was thronged to-day by Irish, English, and Scotch, entreating to
be sent North or to Europe. The stories told by some of these
poor fellows were most pitiable, and were vouched for by facts
and papers; but Mr. Mure has no funds at his disposal to enable
him to comply with their prayers. Nothing remains for them but
to enlist. For the third or fourth time I heard cases of British
subjects being forcibly carried off to fill the ranks of so-called
volunteer companies and regiments. In some instances they have been
knocked down, bound, and confined in barracks, till in despair they
consented to serve. Those who have friends aware of their condition
were relieved by the interference of the Consul; but there are
many, no doubt, thus coerced and placed in involuntary servitude
without his knowledge. Mr. Mure has acted with energy, judgment,
and success on these occasions; but I much wish he could have, from
national sources, assisted the many distressed English subjects who
thronged his office.
The great commercial community of New Orleans, which now feels
the pressure of the blockade, depends on the interference of the
European Powers next October. They have, among them men who refuse
to pay their debts to Northern houses, but they deny that they
intend to repudiate, and promise to pay all who are not black
Republicans when the war is over. Repudiation is a word out of
favour, as they feel the character of the Southern States and of
Mr. Jefferson Davis himself has been much injured in Europe by the
breach of honesty and honour of which they have been guilty; but
I am assured on all sides that every State will eventually redeem
all its obligations. Meantime, money here is fast vanishing. Bills
on New York are worth nothing, and bills on England are at 18 per
cent. discount from the par value of gold; but the people of this
city will endure all this and much more to escape from the hated
rule of the Yankees.
Through the present gloom come the rays of a glorious future, which
shall see a grand slave confederacy enclosing the Gulf in its
arms, and swelling to the shores of the Potomac and Chesapeake,
with the entire control of the Mississippi and a monopoly of the
great staples on which so much of the manufactures and commerce of
England and France depend. They believe themselves, in fact, to
be masters of the destiny of the world. Cotton is king--not alone
king but czar; and coupled with the gratification and profit to be
derived from this mighty agency, they look forward with intense
satisfaction to the complete humiliation of their hated enemies
in the New England States, to the destruction of their usurious
rival New York, and to the impoverishment and ruin of the states
which have excited their enmity by personal liberty bills, and
have outraged and insulted them by harbouring abolitionists and an
anti-slavery press.
The abolitionists have said, “We will never rest till every slave
is free in the United States.” Men of larger views than those have
declared, “They will never rest from agitation until a man may as
freely express his opinions, be they what they may, on slavery,
or anything else, in the streets of Charleston or of New Orleans
as in those of Boston or New York.” “Our rights are guaranteed by
the Constitution,” exclaim the South. “The Constitution,” retorts
Wendel Phillips, “is a league with the devil,--a covenant with
hell.”
The doctrine of State Rights has been consistently advocated not
only by Southern statesmen, but by the great party who have ever
maintained there was danger to liberty in the establishment of
a strong central Government; but the contending interests and
opinions on both sides had hitherto been kept from open collision
by artful compromises and by ingenious contrivances, which ceased
with the election of Mr. Lincoln.
There was in the very corner-stone of the republican edifice a
small fissure, which has been widening as the grand structure
increased in height and weight. The early statesmen and authors
of the Republic knew of its existence, but left to posterity the
duty of dealing with it and guarding against its consequences.
Washington himself was perfectly aware of the danger; and he
looked forward to a duration of some sixty or seventy years only
for the great fabric he contributed to erect. He was satisfied a
crisis must come, when the States whom in his farewell address he
warned against rivalry and faction would be unable to overcome
the animosities excited by different interests, and the passions
arising out of adverse institutions; and now that the separation
has come, there is not, in the Constitution, or out of it, power to
cement the broken fragments together.
It is remarkable that in New Orleans, as in New York, the opinion
of the most wealthy and intelligent men in the community, so far as
I can judge, regards universal suffrage as organised confiscation,
legalised violence and corruption, a mortal disease in the body
politic. The other night, as I sat in the club-house, I heard a
discussion in reference to the operations of the Thugs in this
city, a band of native-born Americans, who at election times
were wont deliberately to shoot down Irish and German voters
occupying positions as leaders of their mobs. These Thugs were only
suppressed by an armed vigilance committee, of which a physician
who sat at table was one of the members.
Having made some purchases, and paid all my visits, I returned to
prepare for my voyage up the Mississippi and visits to several
planters on its banks--my first being to Governor Roman.