New Orleans

New Orleans is a surprising evidence of what men will endure, when cheered by the hopes of an ever-flowing tide of all-mighty dollars and cents. It is situated on a marsh, and bounded by the river on one side, and on the other by a continuation of the marsh on which it is built, beyond which extends a forest swamp. All sewerage and drainage is superficial more generally covered in, but in very many places dragging its sluggish stream, under the broad light of day, along the edges of the footway. The chief business is, of course, in those streets skirting the river; and at this season December when the cotton and sugar mania is at its height, the bustle and activity is marvellous. Streets are piled in every direction with mounds of cotton, which rise as high as the roofs; storehouses are bursting with bales; steam and hydraulic presses hiss in your ear at every tenth step, and beneath their power the downy fibre is compressed into a substance as hard as Aberdeen granite, which semi-nude negroes bind, roll, and wheel in all directions, the exertion keeping them in perpetual self-supplying animal steam-baths. Gigantic mules arrive incessantly, dragging fresh freight for pressure; while others as incessantly depart, bearing freight for embarkation to Europe. If a pair of cotton socks could be made vocal, what a tale of sorrow and labour their history would reveal, from the nigger who picked with a sigh to the maiden who donned with a smile.

Some idea may be formed of the extent of this branch of trade, from the statistical fact that last year the export amounted to 1,435,815 bales or, in round numbers, one and a half millions which was an increase of half a million upon the exports of the preceding twelve months. Tobacco is also an article of great export, and amounted last year to 94,000 hogsheads, being an increase of two-thirds upon the previous twelve months. The great staple produce of the neighbourhood is sugar and molasses. In good years, fifty gallons of molasses go to a thousand pounds of sugar; but, when the maturity of the cane is impeded by late rains, as was the case last year, seventy gallons go to the thousand pounds of sugar. Thus, in 1853, 10,500,000 gallons of molasses were produced, representing 210,000,000 pounds of sugar; while, in 1854, 18,300,000 gallons of molasses were produced, being nearly double the produce of the preceding year, but representing only 261,500,000 pounds of sugar, owing, as before explained, to the wet weather. Some general idea of the commercial activity of New Orleans may be formed from the following statistics for 1853: 2266 vessels, representing 911,000 tons, entered New Orleans; and 2202 vessels, representing 930,000 tons, cleared.

Now, of course, the greater portion or I might almost say the whole of the goods exported reach New Orleans by the Mississippi, and therefore justify the assertion that the safe navigation of that river is, in the fullest sense of the term, a national and not a local interest, bearing as it does on its bosom an essential portion of the industrial produce of eleven different States of the Union.

It is quite astounding to see the legions of steamers from the upper country which are congregated here; for miles and miles the levee forms one unbroken line of them, all lying with their noses on shore no room for broadsides. On arriving, piled up with goods mountain high, scarce does a bow touch the levee, when swarms of Irish and niggers rush down, and the mountainous pile is landed, and then dragged off by sturdy mules to its destination. Scarce is she cleared, when the same hardy sons of toil build another mountainous pile on board; the bell rings, passengers run, and she is facing the current and the dangers of the snaggy Mississippi. The labour of loading and unloading steamers is, as you may suppose, very severe, and is done for the most part by niggers and Irishmen. The average wages are from 7l. to 8l. per month; but, in times of great pressure from sudden demand, &c., they rise as high as frol. to 14l. per month, which was the case just before my arrival. The same wages are paid to those who embark in the steamers to load and unload at the different stations on the river. Every day is a working day; and as, by the law, the slave has his Sunday to himself to earn what he can, the master who hires him out on the river is supposed to give him one-seventh of the wages earned; but I believe they only receive one-seventh of the ordinary wages i.e., 1l. per month.

Let us now turn from the shipping to the town. In the old, or French part, the streets are generally very narrow; but in the American, or the La Fayette quarter, they are very broad, and, whether from indolence or some other reason, badly paved and worse cleansed; nevertheless, if the streets are dirty and muddy, the houses have the advantage of being airy. There are no buildings of any importance except the new Custom-house, and, of course, the hotels. The St. Louis is at present the largest; but the St. Charles, which is being rebuilt, was, and will again be, the hotel pride of New Orleans. They are both enormous establishments, well arranged, and, with the locomotive propensities of the people, sure to be well filled during the winter months, at which period only they are open. When I arrived at the St. Louis, it was so full that the only room I could get was like a large Newfoundland dog’s kennel, with but little light and less air. The hotel was originally built for an Exchange, and the rotundo in the centre is one of the finest pieces of architecture in the States. It is a lofty, vaulted hall, eighty feet in diameter, with an aisle running all round, supported by a row of fine pillars fifty feet in height; the dome rises nearly as many-feet more, and has a large skylight in the centre; the sides thereof are ornamented by well-executed works in chiaroscuro, representing various successful actions gained during the struggle for independence, and several of the leading men who figured during that eventful period. A great portion of the aisle is occupied by the all-important bar, where drinks flow as freely as the river outside; but there is another feature in the aisles which contrasts strangely with the pictorial ornaments round the dome above a succession of platforms are to be seen, on which human flesh and blood is exposed to public auction, and the champions of the equal rights of man are thus made to endorse, as it were, the sale of their fellow-creatures.

I had only been in the hotel one day when a gentleman to whom I had a letter kindly offered me a room in his house. The offer was too tempting, so I left my kennel without delay, and in my new quarters found every comfort and a hearty welcome, rendered more acceptable from the agreeable society which it included, and the tender nursing I received at the hands of one of the young ladies during the week I was confined to the house by illness. Among all the kind and hospitable friends I met with in my travels, none have a stronger claim on my grateful recollection than Mr. Egerton and his family. When able to get out, I took a drive with mine host: as you may easily imagine, there is not much scenery to be found in a marsh bounded by a forest swamp, but the effect is very curious; all the trees are covered with Spanish moss, a long, dark, fibrous substance which hangs gracefully down from every bough and twig; it is often used for stuffing beds, pillows, &e. This most solemn drapery gave the forest the appearance of a legion of mute mourners attending the funeral of some beloved patriarch, and one felt disposed to admire the patience with which they stood, with their feet in the wet, their heads nodding to and fro as if distracted with grief, and their fibrous weeds quivering, as though convulsed with the intensity of agony. The open space around is a kind of convalescent marsh; that is, canals and deep ditch drains have been opened all through it, and into these the waters of the marsh flow, as a token of gratitude for the delicate little attention; at the same time, the adjacent soil, freed from its liquid encumbrance, courts the attractive charms of the sun, and has already risen from two and a half to three and a half feet above its marshy level.

The extremity of this open space furthest from the town has been appropriately fixed upon as the site of various cemeteries. The lugubrious forest is enough to give a man the blue devils, and the ditches and drains into which the sewers, &c., of the town are pumped, dragging their sluggish and all but stagnant course under a broiling summer gun, are sufficient to prepare most mortals for the calm repose towards which the cypress and the cenotaph beckon them with greedy welcome. The open space I have been describing is the “Hyde Park” and “Rotten Row” of New Orleans, and the drive round it is one of the best roads I ever travelled; it is called the “Shell Road,” from the top-dressing thereof being entirely composed of small shells, which soon bind together and make it as smooth as a bowling-green. The Two-forty trotters when there are any come out here in the afternoon, and show off their paces, and if you fail in finding any of that first flight, at all events you are pretty sure to see some good teams, that can hug the three minutes very closely. Custom is second nature, and necessity is the autocrat of autocrats, which even the free and enlightened must obey; the consequence is, that the inhabitants of New Orleans look forward to the Shell-road ride, or drive, with as much interest and satisfaction as our metropolitan swells do to the Serpentine or the Row.

Having had our drive, let us now say a few words about the society. In the first place, you will not see such grand houses as in New York; but at the same time it is to be observed, that the tenants here occupy and enjoy all their houses, while in New York, as I have before observed, the owners of many of the finest residences live almost exclusively in the basements thereof. This more social system at New Orleans, I am inclined to attribute essentially to the French or Creole habits with which society is leavened, and into which, it appears to me, the Americans naturally and fortunately drop. On the other hand, the rivalry which too often taints a money-making community has found its way here. If A. gives a party which costs 200l., B. will try and get up one at 300l., and so on. This false pride foolish enough anywhere is more striking in New Orleans, from the fact that the houses are not calculated for such displays, and when they are attempted, it involves unfurnishing bed-rooms and upsetting the whole establishment. I should add they are comparatively rare, perhaps as rare as those parties which are sometimes given in London at the expense of six weeks’ fasting, in order that the donor’s name and the swells who attended the festive scene may go forth to the world in the fashionable column of the Morning Post. Whenever they do occur, they are invariably attended with some such observations as the following:

“What did Mrs. B.’s party cost last night?”

“Not less than 300l.”

“Well, I’m sure they have not the means to afford such extravagant expense; and I suppose the bed-rooms upstairs were all cleared out?”

“Oh, yes! three of them.”

“Well I know that house, and, fix it how you will, if they cleared out three bed-rooms, I’m sure they must have slept on the sofas or the tables. I declare it’s worse than foolish it’s wicked to have so much pride,” &c.

If those who thus indulged their vanity, only heard one-half of the observations made by those who accent their hospitalities, or who strive to get invitations and cannot, they would speedily give up their folly; but money is the great Juggernaut, at the feet of which all the nations of the earth fall down and worship; whether it be the coronets that bowed themselves down in the temple of the Railway King in Hyde Park, who could afford the expense; or the free and enlightened who do homage in Mrs. ’s temple at New Orleans, though perhaps she could not afford the expense; one thing is clear where the money is spent, there will the masses be gathered together. General society is, however, more sober and sociable, many families opening their houses one day in the week to all their friends. The difference of caste is going out fast: the Créoles found that their intermarriages were gradually introducing a race as effete as the Bourbons appear to be in France; they are now therefore very sensibly seeking alliances with the go-ahead blood of the Anglo-Saxon, which will gradually absorb them entirely, and I expect that but little Trench will be spoken in New Orleans by the year 1900. Another advantage of the Creole element, is the taste it appears to have given for French wines. As far as I am capable of judging, the claret, champagne, and sauterne which I tasted here were superior in quality and more generally in use than I ever found them in any other city. The hours of dinner vary from half-past three to half-past five, and an unostentatious hospitality usually prevails.

Servants here are expensive articles. In the hotels you find Irishmen almost exclusively, and their wages vary from 2s. to 10l. per month. In private houses, women’s wages range from 2s. to 4l. and men’s from 6l. to 8l. the month. The residents who find it inconvenient to go to the north during the summer, cross the lake to their country villas at Passe Christianne, a pretty enough little place, far cooler and more shady than the town, and where they get bathing, &c. A small steamer carries you across in a few hours; but competition is much wanted, for their charges are treble those of the boats in the north, and the accommodation poor in comparison.

When crossing over in the steamer, I overheard a conversation which showed how early in life savage ideas are imbibed here. Two lads, the eldest about fifteen, had gone over from New Orleans to shoot ducks. They were both very gentlemanly-looking boys, and evidently attending some school. Their conversation of course turned upon fighting when did schoolboys meet that it was not so? At last, the younger lad said

“Well, what do you think of Mike Maloney?”, “Oh! Mike is very good with his fists; but I can whip him right off at rough-and-tumble.”

Now, what is “rough-and-tumble?” It consists of clawing, scratching, kicking, hair-pulling, and every other atrocity, for which, I am happy to think, a boy at an English school would be well flogged by the master, and sent to Coventry by his companions. Yet, here was as nice a looking lad as one could wish to see, evidently the son of well-to-do parents, glorying in this savage, and, as we should call it, cowardly accomplishment. I merely mention this to show how early the mind is tutored to feelings which doubtless help to pave the way for the bowie-knife in more mature years.

The theatres at New Orleans are neat and airy. Lola Montez succeeded in creating a great furore, at last. I say “at last,” because, as there really is nothing in her acting above mediocrity, she received no especial encouragement at first, although she had chosen her own career in Bavaria as the subject in which to make her debut. She waited with considerable tact till she was approaching those scenes in which the mob triumph over order; and then, pretending to discover a cabal in the meagre applause she was receiving, she stopped in the middle of her acting, and, her eyes flashing fire, her face beaming brass, and her voice wild with well-assumed indignation, she cried “I’m anxious to do my best to please the company; but if this cabal continues, I must retire!” The effect was electric. Thunders of applause followed, and “Bravo, Lolly!” resounded through the theatre, from the nigger-girl in the upper gallery to the octogenarian in the pit. When the clamour had subsided, some spicy attacks on kingcraft and the nobles followed most opportunely; the shouts were redoubled; her victory was complete. When the piece was over, she came forward to assure the company that the scenes she had been enacting were all facts in which she had, in reality, played the same part she had been representing that evening. Thunders of “Go it, Lolly! you’re a game ‘un, and nurthin’ else!” rang all through the house as she retired, bowing. She did not appear in the character of “bowie-knifing a policeman at Berlin;” and of course she omitted some scenes said to have taken place during interviews with the king, and in which her conduct might not have been considered, strictly speaking, quite correct. She obtained further notoriety after my departure, by kicking and cuffing a prompter, and calling the proprietor a d d scoundrel, a d d liar, and a d d thief, for which she was committed for trial. I may as well mention here, that the theatre was well attended by ladies. This fact must satisfy every unprejudiced mind how utterly devoid of foundation is the rumour of the ladies of America putting the legs of their pianofortes in petticoats, that their sensitive delicacy may not receive too rude a shock. Besides the theatres here, there is also an opera, the music of which, vocal and instrumental, is very second-rate. Nevertheless, I think it is highly to the credit of New Orleans that they support one at all, and sincerely do I wish them better success.

The town is liberally supplied with churches of all denominations. I went one Sunday to a Presbyterian church, and was much struck on my entry at seeing all the congregation reading newspapers. Seating myself in my pew, I found a paper lying alongside of me, and, taking it up, I discovered it was a religious paper, full of anecdotes and experiences, &c., and was supplied gratis to the congregation. There were much shorter prayers than in Scotland, more reading of the Bible, the same amount of singing, but performed by a choir accompanied by an organ, the congregation joining but little. The sermon was about the usual length of one in Scotland, lasting about an hour, and extemporized from notes. The preacher was eloquent, and possessed of a strong voice, which he gave the reins to in a manner which would have captivated the wildest Highlander. The discourse delivered was in aid of foreign missions, and the method he adopted in dealing with it was first, powerfully to attack monarchical forms of government and priestly influence, by which soft solder he seemed to win his way to their republican hearts; and from this position, he secondly set to work and fed their vanity freely, by glowing encomiums on their national deeds and greatness, and the superior perfections of their glorious constitution; whence he deduced, thirdly, that the Almighty had more especially committed to them the great work of evangelizing mankind. This discourse sounded like the political essay of an able enthusiast, and fell strangely on my ears from the lips of a Christian minister, whose province, I had always been taught to consider, was rather to foster humility than to inflame vanity. It is to be presumed he knew his congregation well, and felt that he was treading the surest road to their dollars and cents.

Among other curiosities in this town is a human one, known as the Golden Man, from the quantity of that metal with which he bedizens waistcoat, fingers, &c. During my stay at New Orleans, he appeared decked with such an astounding gem, that it called forth the following notice from the press:

ANOTHER RING. The “gold” individual who exhibits himself and any quantity of golden ornaments, of Sunday mornings, in the vicinity of the Verandah and City Hotels, will shortly appear with a new wonder wherewith to astonish the natives. One would think that he had already ornaments enough to satisfy any mortal; but he, it appears, is not of the stuff every-day people are made of, and he could not rest satisfied until his fingers boasted another ring. The new prodigy is, like its predecessors, of pure solid gold. It is worth 500 dollars, and weighs nearly, if not quite, a pound. This small treasure is intended for the owner’s “little” finger. It is the work of Mr. Melon, jeweller and goldsmith, on Camp-street, and is adorned with small carved figures, standing out in bold relief, and of very diminutive size, yet distinct and expressive. The right outer surface represents the flight of Joseph, the Virgin, and the infant Jesus into Egypt. Joseph, bearing a palm-branch, leads the way, the Virgin follows, seated on a donkey, and holding the Saviour in her lap. On the left outer edge of the ring is seen the prophet Daniel, standing between two lions. The prophet has not got a blue umbrella under his arm to distinguish him from the lions. The face of the ring exhibits an excellent design of the crucifixion, with the three crosses and the Saviour and the two thieves suspended thereto. This ring is certainly a curiosity.

There is a strong body of police here, and some of their powers are autocratically autocratic: thus, a person once committed as a vagrant is liable to be re-imprisoned by them if met in the street unemployed. Now, as it is impossible to expect that people in business will take the trouble to hunt up vagrants, what can be conceived more cruelly arbitrary than preventing them from hunting up places for themselves? Yet such is the law in this democratic city. A gentleman told me of a vagrant once coming to him and asking for employment, and, on his declining to employ him, begging to be allowed to lie concealed in his store during the day, lest the police should re-imprison him before he could get on board one of the steamers to take him up the river to try his fortunes elsewhere. At the same time, a person in good circumstances getting into difficulties can generally manage to buy his way out.

The authorities, on the return of Christmas, having come to the conclusion that the letting off of magazines of crackers in the streets by the juvenile population was a practice attended with much inconvenience and danger to those who were riding and driving, gave orders that it should be discontinued. The order was complied with in some places, but in others the youngsters set it at defiance. It will hardly be credited that, in a nation boasting of its intelligence and proud of its education, the press should take part with the youngsters, and censure the magistrates for their sensible orders. Yet such was the case at New Orleans. The press abused the authorities for interfering with the innocent amusements of the children, and expressed their satisfaction at the latter having asserted their independence and successfully defied the law. The same want of intelligence was exhibited by the press in censuring the authorities for discontinuing the processions on the anniversary of the Battle of New Orleans “a ceremony calculated to excite the courage and patriotism of the people.” They seem to lose sight of the fact, that it is a reflection on the courage of their countrymen to suppose that they require such processions to animate their patriotism, and that the continuance of such public demonstrations parading the streets betokens rather pride of past deeds than confidence in their power to re-enact them. Although such demonstrations may be readily excused, or even reasonably encouraged, in an infant community struggling for liberty, they are childish and undignified in a powerful nation. What would be more ridiculous than Scotland having grand processions on the anniversary of Bannockburn, or England on that of Waterloo? Moreover, in a political point of view, it should not be lost sight of, that if such demonstrations have any effect at all on the community, it must be that of reviving hostile feelings towards those to whom they are united most closely by the ties of blood, sense, and though last, not least cents. I merely mention these trivial things to show the punyizing effects which the democratic element has on the press.

Formerly, duels were as innumerable here as bales of cotton; they have considerably decreased latterly, one cause of which has been, the State of Louisiana passing a law by which any person engaging in a duel is at once deprived of his vote, and disabled from holding any state employment. John Bull may profit by this hint.

I was much amused, during my stay at New Orleans, by hearing the remarks of the natives upon the anti-slavery meeting at Stafford House, of which the papers were then full. If the poor duchess and her lady allies had been fiends, there could scarcely have been more indignation at her “presumptuous interference” and “mock humility.” Her “sisters, indeed! as if she would not be too proud to stretch out her hand to any one of them,” &c. Then another would break out with, “I should like to know by what right she presumes to interfere with us and offer advice? If she wants to do good, she has opportunities enough of exercising her charity in London. Let any one read The Times, and then visit a plantation here, and say whether the negroes are not happier and better off than one-half of the lower classes in England,” &c. If every animadversion which the duchess and her colleagues’ kind intentions and inoffensive wording of them called forth in America had been a pebble, and if they had all been gathered together, the monument of old Cheops at Ghizeh would have sunk into insignificance when contrasted with the gigantic mass; in short, no one unacquainted with the sensitiveness of the American character can form a conception of the violent state of indignation which followed the perusal of the proceedings of that small conclave of English lady philanthropists. Mrs. Jones, Smith, Adams, and Brown might have had their meeting on the same subject without producing much excitement; but when the aristocratic element was introduced, it acted as a spark in a barrel of gunpowder. As an illustration of the excitement produced, I subjoin an extract from one of their daily papers, under the heading of “Mrs. Stowe in Great Britain:”

“The principles of free government developed here, and urging our people on with unexampled rapidity in the career of wealth and greatness, have always been subjects of alarm to monarchs and aristocracies of pleasure and hope to the people. It has, of course, been the object of the former to blacken us in every conceivable way, and to make us detestable in the eyes of the world. There has been nothing since the revolution so well calculated to advance this end, as the exhibition which Mrs. Stowe is making in England.

“It is because they have a deep and abiding hostility to this country, and to republicanism in general, that the aristocracy, not only of England, but of all Europe, have seized with so much avidity upon Uncle Tom, and have been at so much pains to procure a triumphal march for its author through all the regions she may choose to visit. They are delighted to see a native of the United States of that republic which has taught that a people can flourish without an aristocracy or a monarch of that republic, the example of whose prosperity was gradually undermining thrones and digging a pit for privileged classes describing her country as the worst, the most abandoned, the most detestable that ever existed. Royalty draws a long breath, and privilege recovers from its fears. Among the people of the continent, especially among the Germans, Italians, and Russians, there are thousands who believe that murder is but a pastime here that the bowie-knife and pistol are used upon any provocation that, in fact, we are a nation of assassins, without law, without morality, and without religion. They are taught to believe these things by their newspapers, which, published under the eye of Government, allow no intelligence but of murders, bowie-knife fights, &c., coming from America, to appear in their columns. By these, therefore, only is America known to their readers; and they are very careful to instil the belief, that if America is a land of murderers, it is so because it has had the folly to establish a republican form of government.

“These ideas are very general in England, even where the hostility is greater than it is on the Continent. To British avarice we owe slavery in this country. To British hatred we owe the encouragement of anti-slavery agitation now. The vile hypocrisy which has characterised the whole proceeding is not the least objectionable part of it. The English care not one farthing about slavery. If they did, why do they keep it up in such a terrific form in their own country? Where was there ever true charity that did not begin at home? It is because there is a deep-rooted hostility to this country pervading the whole British mind, that these things have taken place.”

The wounded sensitiveness, however, which the foregoing paragraph exhibits, found some consolation from an article which appeared in The Times. They poured over its lines with intense delight, soothing themselves with each animadversion it made upon the meeting, and deducing from the whole though how, I could never understand that they had found in the columns of that journal a powerful advocate for slavery. Thus was peace restored within their indignant breasts, and perhaps a war with the ladies of the British aristocracy averted. Of two facts, however, I feel perfectly certain; one is, that the animadversions made in America will not in the least degree impair her Grace’s healthy condition; and the other is, that the meeting held at Stafford House will in no way improve the condition of the negro.

There are two or three clubs established here, into one of which strangers are admitted as visitors, but the one which is considered the “first chop” does not admit strangers, except by regular ballot; one reason, I believe, for their objecting to strangers, is the immense number of them, and the quality of the article. Their ideas of an English gentleman, if formed from the mass of English they see in this city, must be sufficiently small: there is a preponderating portion of the “cotton bagman,” many of whom seek to make themselves important by talking large. Although probably more than nine out of ten never have “thrown their leg” over anything except a bale of cotton, since the innocent days of the rocking-horse, they try to impress Jonathan by pulling up their shirt-collar consequentially, and informing him, “When I was in England, I was used to ’unt with the Dook’s ’ounds; first-rate, sir, first-rate style no ’ats, all ’unting-caps.” Then, passing his left thumb down one side of his cheek, his fingers making a parallel course down the opposite cheek, with an important air and an expression indicative of great intimacy, he would condescendingly add, “The Dook wasn’t a bad chap, after all: he used to give me a capital weed now and then.” With this style of John Bull in numerical ascendency, you cannot wonder at the club-doors not being freely opened to “the Dook’s friends,” or at the character of an English gentleman being imperfectly understood.

Time hurries on, a passport must be obtained, and that done, it must be vised before the Spanish consul, as Cuba is my destination. The Filibusteros seem to have frightened this functionary out of his proprieties. A Spaniard is proverbially proud and courteous the present specimen was neither; perhaps the reason may have been that I was an Englishman, and that the English consul had done all his work for him gratis when the Filibustero rows obliged him to fly. Kindness is a thing which the Spaniards as a nation find it very difficult to forgive. However, I got his signature, which was far more valuable than his courtesy; most of his countrymen would have given me both, but the one sufficed on the present occasion. Portmanteaus are packed my time is come.

Adieu, New Orleans! adieu, kind host and amiable family, and a thousand thanks for the happy days I spent under your roof. Adieu, all ye hospitable friends, not forgetting my worthy countryman the British consul. The ocean teapot is hissing, the bell rings, friends cry, kiss, and smoke handkerchiefs flutter in the breeze, a few parting gifts are thrown on board by friends who arrive just too late; one big-whiskered fellow with bushy moustache picks up the parting cadeau gracious me! he opens it, and discloses a paper bag of lollipops; another unfolds a precious roll of chewing tobacco. Verily, extremes do meet. The “Cherokee” is off, and I’m aboard. Down we go, sugar plantations studding either shore; those past, flat dreary banks succeed; ships of all nations are coming up and going down by the aid of tugboats; two large vessels look unpleasantly “fixed” they are John Bull and Jonathan, brothers in misfortune and both on a bank.

“I guess the pilots will make a good thing out of that job!” says my neighbour.

“Pilots!” I exclaimed, “how can that be? I should think they stood a fair chance of losing their licence.”

“Ah! sir, we don’t fix things that way here; the pilots are too ’cute, sir.” Upon inquiry, I found that, as the banks were continually shifting, it was, as my friend said, very difficult “to fix the pilots,” a fact which these worthies take every advantage of, for the purpose of driving a most profitable trade in the following manner. Pilot goes to tug and says, “What do you charge for getting a ship off?” The price understood, a division of the spoil is easily agreed upon. Away goes the pilot, runs the ship on shore on the freshest sandbank, curses the Mississippi and everything else in creation; a tug comes up very opportunely, a tidy bargain is concluded; the unfortunate pilot forfeits 100l., his pilotage from the ship, and consoles himself the following evening by pocketing 500l. from the tugman as his share of the spoil, and then starts off again in search of another victim. Such, I was informed by practical people, is a common feature in the pilotage of these waters, and such it appears likely to continue.

The “Cherokee” is one of those vessels which belong to Mr. Law, of whom I could get no information, expect that he had sprung up like a mushroom to wealth and Filibustero notoriety. He is also the custodian, I believe, of the three hundred thousand stand of arms ordered by Kossuth for the purpose of “whipping” Russia and Austria, and establishing the Republic of Hungary, unless by accident he found brains enough to become a Hungarian Louis Napoleon; but Mr. Law’s other vessel, called the “Crescent City,” and the Cuban Black Douglas, yclept “Purser Smith,” are perhaps better known. Peradventure, you imagine this latter to be a wild hyena-looking man, with radiant red hair, fiery ferret eyes, and his pockets swelled out with revolutionary documents for the benefit of the discontented Cubans; but I can inform you, on the best authority, such is not the case, for he was purser of the “Cherokee” this voyage. He looks neither wild nor rabid, and is a grey-headed man, about fifty years of age, with a dash of the Israelite in his appearance: he may or he may not have Filibustero predilections I did not presume to make inquiry on the subject. And here I cannot but remark upon the childish conduct of the parties concerned in the ridiculous “Crescent City and Cuba question,” although, having taken the view they did, the Spaniards were of course perfectly right in maintaining it. It was unworthy of the Spanish nation to take notice of the arrival of so uninfluential a person as Purser Smith; and it was imprudent, inasmuch as it made him a person of importance, and gave the party with whom he was supposed to be connected a peg to hang grievances upon, and thus added to their strength. It was equally unworthy of Mr. Law, when objection was made, and a notification sent that Mr. Smith would not be admitted nor the vessel that carried him, to persist in a course of conduct obnoxious to a friendly power; and it was imprudent, when it must have been obvious that he could not carry his point; thereby eventually adding strength to the Spanish authority. When, all the fuss and vapour was made by Mr. Law and his friends, they seemed to have forgotten the old adage, “People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.” President Filmore, in his statesmanlike observations, when the subject was brought before him, could not help delicately alluding to Charleston, a city of America. Americans at Charleston claim to exercise the right what a prostitution of the term right! of imprisoning any of the free subjects of another nation who may enter their ports, if they are men of colour. Thus, if a captain arrives in a ship with twenty men, of whom ten are black, he is instantly robbed of half his crew during his whole stay in the harbour; and on what plea is this done? Is any previous offence charged against them? None whatever. The only plea is that it is a municipal regulation which their slave population renders indispensable. In other words, it is done lest the sacred truth should spread, that man has no right to bind his fellow-man in the fetters of slavery.

Was there ever such a farce as for a nation that tolerates such a municipal regulation as this to take umbrage at any of their citizens being, on strong suspicions of unfriendly feeling, denied entry into any port? Why, if there was a Chartist riot in monarchical England, and the ports thereof were closed against the sailors of republican America, they could have no just cause of offence, so long as the present municipal law of Charleston exists. What lawful boast of freedom can there ever be, where contact with freemen is dreaded, be their skins black or any colour of the rainbow? Why can England offer an asylum to the turbulent and unfortunate of all countries and climes? Because she is perfectly free! Don’t be angry, my dear Anglo-Saxon brother; you know, “if what I say bayn’t true, there’s no snakes in Warginny.” I feel sure you regret it; but then why call forth the observations, by supporting the childish obstinacy in the “Crescent City” affair. However, as the housemaids say, in making up quarrels, “Let bygones be bygones.” Spain has maintained her rights; you have satisfied her, and quiet Mr. Smith enters the Havana periodically, without disturbing the Governor’s sleep or exciting the hopes of the malcontents. May we never see the Great Empire States in such an undignified position again!

Here we are still in the “Cherokee;” she is calculated to hold some hundreds of passengers. Thank God! there are only some sixty on board; but I do not feel equally grateful for their allowing me to pay double price for a cabin to myself when two-thirds of them are empty, not to mention that the single fare is eight guineas. She is a regular old tub of a boat; the cabins are profitably fitted with three beds in each, one above the other; the consequence is, that if you wish to sneeze at night, you must turn on your side, or you’ll break your nose against the bed above you in the little jerk that usually accompanies the sternutatory process. The feeding on board is the worst I ever saw tough, cold, and greasy, the whole unpleasantly accompanied with dirt.

Having parted from my travelling companion at New Orleans, one of my first endeavours was, by the aid of physiognomy, to discover some passenger on whom it might suit me to inflict my society. Casting my eyes around, they soon lit upon a fair-haired youth with a countenance to match, the expression thereof bespeaking kindness and intelligence; and when, upon further examination, I saw the most indubitable and agreeable evidence that his person and apparel were on the most successful and intimate terms with soap and water, I pounced upon him without delay, and soon found that he was a German gentleman travelling with his brother-in-law, and they both had assumed an incognito, being desirous of avoiding that curious observation which, had their real position in life been known, they would most inevitably have been subject to. Reader, be not you too curious, for I cannot withdraw the veil they chose to travel under; suffice it to know, their society added much to my enjoyment, both on the passage and at the Havana. The sailing of the vessel is so ingeniously managed, that you arrive at the harbour’s mouth just after sunset, and are consequently allowed the privilege of waiting outside all night, no vessels except men-of-war being allowed to enter between sunset and daybreak. The hopes of the morrow were our only consolation, until at early dawn we ran through the narrow battery-girt entrance, and dropped anchor in the land-locked harbour of Havana.