It was almost night when we returned on board the Natchez to continue our voyage. On leaving Baton-Rouge, we had the mortification to part again with some of those who had accompanied us from New Orleans, and among others, with Mr. Duplantier, senior, whose active and tender friendship, as well as that of his son, had been of great service to the general.
Baton-Rouge stands upon the left bank of the river, one hundred and thirty-seven miles above New Orleans. In this passage, the navigation of the river is very interesting. For several miles after leaving New Orleans, the eye reposes agreeably upon the shores, enriched with fine cotton and sugar plantations, and embellished with clusters of orange trees, from the midst of which rise the white and showy dwellings of the planters. By degrees the gardens and houses become more rare; but all the way to Baton-Rouge one continues to see fine and well cultivated lands. These plantations spread along the river, sometimes extending nearly a mile back to the thick forests, which serve as their limits. The soil is entirely formed of the fertile sediments deposited by the ancient inundations of the Mississippi, now confined to its channel by artificial banks. A special law enjoins it upon each river proprietor to keep up with care that portion of dike opposite his property, so that one every where sees the slaves continually engaged in driving down stakes, interlacing the branches of trees, and heaping earth here and there where there is danger that the river will force a passage. But notwithstanding all precautions, the water often rushes furiously over these obstacles, and spreads devastation and death. Not a year passes without some proprietor having the misfortune to see snatched from him in a few minutes the fruits of long and laborious exertions. All the lands which border the Mississippi, from its outlet to six hundred miles above, are subject to inundations. Nevertheless, on leaving Baton-Rouge, the left shore appears sufficiently elevated above the surface of the water to be free from these accidents.
The distance between Baton-Rouge and Natchez, is two hundred and sixty miles. This we ran in thirty-two hours, having had a pleasant passage, in the course of which we met a great many boats of all forms and sizes, laden with all sorts of productions from the most distant points of the Union. Those which more particularly attracted our attention were large and of a square form, without either masts, sails, or oars. They floated down the river at the mercy of the current, and bore more resemblance to enormous boxes than to boats. They are called arks, and are commonly manned by Kentuckians, who go in this way to New Orleans, to dispose of their grain, poultry, and cattle. There, after receiving pay for their produce, they sell also the planks of their arks, which cannot ascend the river, and return to their homes on foot, across the forests of the states of Mississippi, Alabama, and Tennessee. More than fifteen hundred persons, it is said, travel thus, every summer, seventeen hundred miles by water, and afterwards, in returning, eleven hundred on foot.[[9]]
On Monday, the 18th of April, some distant discharges of cannon, which we heard at dawn, announced our approach to a city. Some minutes afterwards, the first rays of the sun gilding the shores of the Mississippi, which, in this place, rose a hundred and fifty feet above the surface of the water, showed us the tops of the houses in Natchez. Our steam-boat stopped a little while previous to arriving opposite the town, and we went on shore at Bacon’s landing, where the citizens, with a calash and four horses, and an escort of cavalry and volunteer infantry, were waiting for the general. We might have landed a little higher up and entered the city by a more direct road, but the members of the committee of arrangement had the address to conduct us by a devious road, along which our eyes were presented with all the beauties of the country. In proportion as we advanced, the escort increased. It consisted of citizens on horseback, militia on foot, ladies in carriages, and nearly the whole population, who came in a crowd to see their beloved and long expected guest. Two addresses were made to the general; one by the president of the committee of arrangement, on entering the city; the other by the mayor, on one of the most elevated spots on the banks of the Mississippi, within view of the town and the river, its source of prosperity. At the moment the general finished his reply, a man suddenly emerged from the crowd, approached the calash, waving his hat in the air, and cried out, “Honour to the commander of the Parisian national guard! I was under your orders in ’91, my general, in one of the battalions of the Filles-Saint-Thomas. I still love liberty as I loved it then: Live, Lafayette!” The general was agreeably surprised to meet, on the shores of a distant country, one of his old citizen soldiers, who recalled to him in so touching a manner the happy times when he could rationally think of the happiness and liberty of his country. He affectionately offered him his hand, and expressed to him the pleasure he felt in thus meeting him in a land of liberty and hospitality.
At the moment we were preparing to enter our hotel, we observed a long procession of children of both sexes approaching us. They were led by Colonel Marshall, who requested of the general for them, and in their name, permission to shake hands with him. The general willingly complied with this wish of the children of Natchez, who marched in order before him, placing successively one of their little hands in that which had fought for the liberty of their fathers. The parents, spectators of this scene, contemplated it with silence and emotion. On its termination, I heard them congratulate each other on the happy influence which this day would have upon the future characters of their children. “When they have grown up,” said they, “and come to read their country’s history, they will find the name of Lafayette intimately connected with all the events which led to the freedom of their fathers, they will recall the gentleness of his manners, the mildness of his voice, when he received them in their infancy, and will feel an increased love for a liberty won by such a man.”
The inhabitants of Natchez neglected nothing which could contribute to the pleasure of their guest during the twenty-four hours he remained with them. The public dinner concluded with toasts, To the Nation’s Guest—The triumph of Yorktown—France fighting for the liberty of the world—The victory of New Orleans—in fact to all glorious and patriotic American recollections. It was not until after the ball which closed about daybreak, that the general could think of embarking. The ladies employed all the charms of mind and person to retain him as long as possible, but our minutes were counted; and six o’clock in the morning found us again on board our vessel.
At the moment when the general was about to leave the shore, an old revolutionary soldier presented himself, and uncovering his breast marked with scars, “these wounds,” said he, “are my pride. I received them fighting by your side for the independence of my country. Your blood, my general, flowed the same day at the battle of Brandywine, where we were so unfortunate.” “It was indeed a rough day,” said the general to him, “but have we not since been amply indemnified?”—“Oh! that is very true,” replied the veteran, “at present we are happy beyond our furthest wishes. You receive the blessings of ten millions of freemen, and I press the hand of my brave general! virtue always has its reward!” Every one applauded the enthusiasm and frankness of the old soldier, whom the general cordially greeted.
On leaving Natchez, we parted from the worthy Mr. Johnson, governor of Louisiana, who would not consent to leave the general whilst within his own state. He now placed us under the care of the state of Mississippi, and left with us, for the purpose of doing the honours of Louisiana as far as St. Louis, Messrs. Prieur, recorder of the councils of New Orleans, Caire, his private secretary, and Morse and Ducros, his aides-de-camp. In taking leave of the governor, General Lafayette evinced the most sincere affection, and desired him to express in his name all the gratitude with which he was penetrated by his cordial reception in Louisiana.
Natchez was formerly the capital of the state of Mississippi, but has ceased to be so in consequence of not being in a central situation. Its population is nearly three thousand, and its port is the place of rest and provisioning for vessels passing between New Orleans and the western states, which gives it a great deal of activity. This city was founded in 1717, by some French soldiers and workmen who had been in the garrison of Fort Rosalie, and who, finding the situation good, established themselves upon it after obtaining their discharge. The most of them bought their lands from the Indians, who lived at some distance from the river, where they had five villages situated very near each other. That which they called the Great Village, where the principal chief of the nation resided, stood on a small stream called White River. It was to the west of this village that the Frenchmen, led by Hubert and Lepage, had erected Fort Rosalie.
When one has viewed the environs of Natchez, it is easy to conceive how readily the first settlers renounced their own country to fix themselves in these then savage wilds. It is difficult to find a more fertile soil, a more vigorous vegetation, or more agreeable and varied situations. The valleys afford fertile pastures, the hills are crowned with sassafras, catalpas, tulip-trees, and the superb magnolia grandiflora, the tops of which rise more than one hundred feet high, while their large white flowers deliciously perfume the air. Nevertheless, one cannot exclude the thought, that these verdant meadows, cool groves, and cheerful and vigorous nature, are sometimes visited and rendered melancholy by the yellow fever.