New-Orleans is, no doubt, an unhealthy place; but I believe it is much less so than is generally supposed. Much might be done to improve it in this respect. When the municipal concerns of this city shall be directed by Americans, which will probably be very soon, the place will become less unhealthy and less dissipated than it is. In this case, people who now go thither merely for the purposes of trade, will permanently reside there, and will, of course, be more interested in the destinies of the place. The police of the city is, at present, quite inefficient. Murders here are frequent, and sometimes not enquired into; and the streets are suffered to be very dirty. It may be observed too, that but little respect is paid to the dead at New-Orleans. The burying-ground lies in the heart of the city, is in an exposed situation, and the surface of it is covered with human bones. People here generally go armed, particularly the Spaniards, French, and Portuguese. Owing to the unhealthiness of this place, its principal characters spend the summer months at [234] the Eastward, and in some cases at the Bay of St. Louis, situated about fifty miles from the city.[[199]] This is said to be a healthy situation. The American population at New-Orleans are hospitable.
The orange groves, and the Levee, at and near this place, and which travellers have glowingly described, by no means equal their representations. Of the latter I have already spoken, and as to the former they are small and unflourishing.
The market, at New-Orleans, is very long and spacious. Near this place are a great many poultry-boats, which are employed in bringing poultry from the plantations in the vicinity. The beef in the market is very inferior. Owing to the climate, or bad management, the cattle, although large and elegant, are poor. All the wealth of New-Orleans could not purchase there a piece of any kind of flesh equal to what is every day seen in the New-England markets. Vegetables are plenty at New-Orleans, but provisions of every kind are here very high. Turkies are from four to six dollars apiece, fowls one dollar each, beef about twenty cents, and butter seventy-five cents per pound. The best boarding here is eighty dollars per month. Some of the hotels are superb establishments. Money is here easily obtained and expended; its circulation is free. Wages are here very high, and labourers in great demand. Indolence characterizes a portion of the people. There are two theatres and a circus at New-Orleans. The principal season for amusement is the winter. In the summer, a very considerable proportion of the population leave the city, and during this period but little business, comparatively, is done.
I have mentioned the Nunnery at New-Orleans.[[200]] In entering some of the apartments of this interesting seclusion, I was much less disposed to censure than to venerate the motives of its inmates. Man [235] is a religious being: and he often realizes that this world is not his home. This is particularly the case in seasons of affliction. Here the human mind, sensible of its unworthiness, and of its dependence upon God, seeks the favour of that Being, who only can forgive and render happy. When the affections of man are weaned from the world, he sighs for the purity and peace of heaven. Human society no longer interests him. He wishes well to mankind; but prefers to their society, the seclusions of meditation. Sometimes this is the immediate effect of the spirit of regeneration; and sometimes it proceeds from the loss of some earthly friend, upon whom the heart continually dwelt; and in whom it might be said to move and have its being:—some friend, the remembrance of whose lovely life,—whose almost superhuman aspect, manner, and converse, alienates the affections from earth, and points them, with a pure and tranquil spirit, to an anticipated reunion in a better world.
Under such circumstances have females, of the most enlightened minds, and purest hearts, received the veil.
There is, probably, in New-Orleans and its vicinity, a population of about 40,000. About a third part of these may be presumed to be slaves. The French here are more numerous than any other distinct class. Among them are many persons, who have lately emigrated from France. Some of these persons are gentlemen of great talents and noble principles. It seems unnatural that they should have left their native country in the hour of her adversity; but, no doubt, their object is to preserve their lives, in this land of liberty, for the service of France when she shall again be true to herself. Colonel L. who was at the fatal battle of Waterloo, is a real Frenchman. He considers Buonaparte a [236] great and good man; but says, that in several instances he acted imprudently. The Colonel almost hates his country for abandoning that great General, who had so long defended France, and who had acquired for her unparalleled fame. France was, indeed, great; and Frenchmen have had much cause for pride. All Europe combined for her subjugation. The coalition of a world was necessary to subdue a single nation, acting under the auspices of the mighty genius of her Emperor. This man, even in his humiliation, is the terror of all Europe; and this terror arises from their sense of his superiority. All Europe are now engaged in legislating upon this wonderful character; whole fleets are employed in guarding him; and vast armies are stationed on the confines of France, to prevent the rise of that spirit which he had created in her bosom. Shame to England! shame to her Continental allies! Why do not these Powers who boast of their strength and their magnanimity, leave this King of men to choose his own residence? He overthrew Monarchs, but he did not trample upon them,—he generously restored them their crowns and their liberty. If England,—if the powers of the continent wish to destroy Buonaparte, why do they not issue, at once, an order for his execution? Why do they disgrace themselves, by the infliction of contemptible privations? Well may this great man say, when deprived of that liberty which is essential to health, “if these proceedings should be fatal to me, I bequeath my death to the reigning house of England.”
I am not sensible of any undue partiality for France. I wish, in this world of error, to be a candid spectator of passing events, and, in my humble sphere, to approve of what is great, and to censure what is mean. Many persons cannot bear the name of France, on account of the horrors of her Revolution; [237] but they should reflect, that these excesses were the natural consequence of oppression. The Monarchy of France was corrupt and tyrannical. Her religion was foul, and deceptive. When the light of liberty shone upon the recesses of her pollutions, the people were shocked; and in a paroxism of astonishment, and indignation, declared that the Christian Religion itself was a mere name. Did not England go as far as this? Previous to the Restoration, her Parliament declared the Decalogue to be without authority.
Opposite the City of New-Orleans the river is more than a mile wide. The channel is very deep, and the current rapid. Boats, destined for the city, are sometimes swept down the stream for several miles, before they can make a landing. The inhabitants of the place procure all their water from the Mississippi; but it is generally filtered before using. The boatmen, however, drink it as it is; and some suppose it, in this state, conducive to health. It must not, however, be taken from the eddies.
The numerous stories, which have so often been circulated, and believed, respecting the cruel modes of fighting, prevalent among the boatmen of the west, are, generally speaking, untrue. During the whole of my tour, I did not witness one engagement, or see a single person, who bore those marks of violence which proceed from the inhuman mode of fighting, said to exist in the west, particularly in Kentucky and Tennessee. The society of this part of the world is becoming less savage, and more refined.
The judicial proceedings at New-Orleans are recorded both in the French and English languages; and the juries there consist of men of both nations. In all cases, excepting those of a criminal nature, the Code Napoleon prevails; but in criminal cases, [238] the Common Law is the rule of action. Here genius is not trammelled by the rules of special pleading. The allegations of the parties, if intelligible, have to encounter no quibbles.