No theatre in the world can be better patronised. Every night it is crowded with fashionable audiences. For weeks together seats at an extravagant price are engaged far ahead. In going away from this little world of gaiety and amusement, the visitor may justly conclude that Frenchmen never get old! Here are men portly in appearance and elegant in manners, whose heads are "silvered o'er with many winters," apparently sixty and seventy years of age, entering into the merits of the play with spirits as gay and ardent as the young man of twenty. At the conclusion of a fine act, they will rise upon their feet and shout with rapture and delight, "bravo! bravo!! bravissimo!!! c'est bien!!!!"
I shall continue to speak more frequently of the French and Spanish population than of the native Americans, because, being the more novel and strange, they are the most interesting. They have a great many singular customs and attractive amusements. Among others, "Mardi-Gras, or Shrove Tuesday," when the religious holidays are at an end, is of some interest. I saw this ceremony under unfavorable auspices. It rained the whole day, and the procession did not exceed an hundred, who constantly appeared in small detachments, some riding on horseback, others in open wagons and cabs, but many on foot; all masked and most fantastically and even ridiculously dressed. I presume the eminently pious portion of the Catholics do not engage in this celebration, unless giving it a more serious and respectable turn, for it struck me as I witnessed it as composed of persons of a low and vulgar character. Every Mardi-Gras man has his pockets filled with flour, and as he passes the well-dressed stranger, who excited by curiosity gets near, throws handfuls upon him, to the amusement of those bystanders who fortunately escape. One wagon in particular contained eight hideous-looking objects, dressed in bear, panther and buffalo skins, with horns of various descriptions on. Among them was his Satanic Majesty, with the same old cloven feet, lashing tail, and black skin. Those on foot fared badly, for scores of boys would follow them up, and pelt them with sticks and mud, and in one instance I saw a fellow stripped of his old woman's habiliments and mask, who looked stupid and ridiculous to the laughing boys and spectators.
But while quitting a description of this poor celebration, once so large and interesting, I must not fail to notice the grandest sight my eyes ever beheld. I was standing on the gallery of the Verandah; in front of me rose up high in the air the imposing and magnificent St. Charles. On its granite gallery stood crowds of the finest race of men upon the globe—below, the streets were full, all looking at the Carnival. For four stories high, every window was full of beauty and fashion. Never had the remark so often made to me before, been so entirely convincing, that New Orleans contained more handsome ladies and fine looking men than any city in the Union. Every thing in front of the St. Charles is rich and inviting. The men all free and easy and elegantly apparelled, with forms cast in Nature's best mould; the ladies all gay, cheerful and beautiful; the cabs and coaches all elegant, with the most dazzling caparisons covering the noble horses. The eminent merchant, the learned jurist, the respectable planter, the dashing young fellow, the officer of the army, all congregate before the St. Charles, the best house in the world!
CHAPTER VIII.
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.