I had heard too much boasting and bragging about New Orleans, not to be disappointed in my expectations. I found it by no means so splendidly or so tastefully built as was asserted, and as I walked along the narrow streets my thoughts wandered to the far more agreeable Cincinnati. The only handsome building in New Orleans, and one without a parallel, is the St. Charles’ Hotel, which certainly is very magnificent.
It is no wonder that the air of New Orleans should be generally so unhealthy, and in autumn quite pestilential, for the town is built in a complete swamp, and required to be protected by a dam from being submerged by the river. It certainly was never intended by nature for the abode of man; at most it is fitted for alligators, frogs, and mosquitoes. It is the churchyard of the United States.
CHAPTER V.
CINCINNATI—A FARMER’S LIFE IN THE WOODS.
Scenery around New Orleans—Arrangements of American steamers—Cincinnati and its reputation—Number of German inhabitants—Situation of the town—Religious absurdities; the girl “possessed with a devil”—Dangers of American steam navigation—The “Mississippi”—Rambles in the woods—Crawfish—Mosquitoes—Picnic in the woods—Poisonous plants—Residence with a backwoodsman, and farming operations—Wild honey—Cattle keeping—Turkeys’ eggs—A Methodist meeting—Attack of ague—Our farming operations.
I found letters and money awaiting me here, which came very opportunely, as I had expended nearly all I had gained. I now looked out for a passage to Cincinnati; the steamer “Chillicothe” was to start for that place at ten the next day. I paid five dollars for 1,500 miles. A cheaper voyage is almost impossible. We did not start till evening.
On ascending the river from New Orleans, the scenery is quite enchanting. There is a succession of plantations, with country-houses embosomed in orange and pomegranate trees, &c., while the regular rows of negro cottages give a peculiar character to the whole.
The Mississippi steamers are light and sharp, built to make their passages as quick as possible, and to enrich their owners in five or six years,—then they may burst or sink. The boilers are in the forepart of the vessel, the stokers working under them in the open air. They reach nearly to the centre, some steamers having as many as eight; the “Chillicothe” had seven. The machinery, also on deck, comes next, and then a place for steerage-passengers, where there is no want of fresh air; it is provided with three rows of bed places. Mounting a flight of steps you find the officers’ cabins forward, and generally a bar for the sale of various drinks, excepting in the “Temperance” boats. The saloon is in the centre, having sleeping cabins with glass doors, for gentlemen, on each side; and near the stern, the most secure place in case of disaster, is the ladies’ cabin. Some of the boats have a third story, but most are satisfied with the arrangement described above. The station for the helmsman is placed high up between the two chimneys, covered over and glazed, so that he can look out in all directions. The tiller ropes have lately been made of wire, so that in case of fire, the vessel might remain under command of the helm till the last moment.