[Subsection]

My dear Heart! * * * *

January 20th. I began to write, but was interrupted, on the second day after my removal to this good, quiet home, the home of a young couple, gentle and quiet people, who seem to live wholly and entirely for each other and their two little children, the youngest still a baby, just now beginning to open his little rosy mouth, and smile and coo. It was the most glorious weather on the afternoon and evening of the day on which I removed here; I can not describe the deliciousness of the air, the serenity of the heavens, the enchanting beauty of the sun, the clouds, the moon, and the stars on this day, when merely to live, to see, and to breathe sufficed to give a fullness to life. Miss W. and I sat out on the piazza with oleanders and magnolias around us, and enjoyed this affluence of nature. Tall aloes, the Yucca gloriosa, and many rare trees and plants, shone out verdantly from the little flower-beds of the garden which surround the lovely house. I enjoyed, besides this, her conversation, which is distinguished by its freshness and originality, its perfectly independent and earnest mode of feeling and judging. I again perceived that imprisoned fire which I had before seen glimmering in her clear, dark-brown eyes, diamond-like and still. It warmed me. We talked about Jane Eyre, and I for the first time heard any one openly express my own secret wishes with regard to Jane's behavior to Rochester. I love that virtue which is above conventional morality, and which knows something better than to be merely--free from blame.

But I ought to tell you the cause of the interruption in my letter yesterday. First it was the cold, and then it was the fire. I will explain. The day which succeeded that beautiful summer-day of which I have spoken was   [p. 228]   wretched weather, so cold that it shook both soul and body, and made me so irritable and so out of humor, that I thanked my good fortune not to have slaves, and that I thus should not be excited to wreak my bad temper on them. Never, until I came into America, had I any experience of the power which the feelings of the body can have over the soul. God help the slave-owner and the slave in this variable climate, the penetrative atmosphere of which causes both body and soul to vibrate according to its temperature.

Well, I was frozen, but I had a fire in my large, handsome room. Octavia le V. came, and Mrs. G., for I had begun to sketch their portraits in my album, and they were to sit to me.

I enjoyed the contemplation and the drawing of these two amiable ladies, the noble, earnest, regular profile of Mrs. G., and the round, child-like, piquant countenance of Octavia le V., with its little turned-up nose, which I imagine resembles Cleopatra's, and its fantastic arrangement of the hair, the artistic labor of Betsy's hands. We were very comfortable; Mrs. G. sat before the fire, Octavia before me, and we were talking earnestly and cheerfully about love, when a messenger came to Mrs. G. from her husband requesting her to send her keys. St. Charles's Hotel was on fire.

Mrs. G. could not be easy to remain; she knew that her husband and her children were at the burning hotel, and thither she hastened.

Octavia le V. had, before she came to me, given Betsy leave to go out, and had locked her room door. There was no one at the hotel who would take charge of her room or her effects. Her beautiful wardrobe, her casket containing several hundred dollars, destined to defray the expenses of her journey to Cuba, all would probably become the prey of the flames.

"Ah! it is quite certain every thing will be destroyed,"   [p. 229]   said Octavia, and sat tranquilly before me, an image of unexampled equanimity. The heart which had bled with the deepest sorrow could not agitate itself by the loss of earthly possessions; the eye which had wept so long over a beloved brother and those dear children, had no tears for worldly adversity. I saw this evidently, while Octavia calmly reckoned up every thing which her room contained, and which would now be consumed. She said that early that morning she had seen a volume of black smoke issue from under her bed. She gave the alarm, and sent a message to the master of the hotel, who replied that there was no danger; that the smoke had merely found its way thither through a defect in one of the chimney-flues, and that all would soon be put to rights. An hour afterward smoke was again in the room; but it seemed perfectly to have subsided when she left the hotel.

I had seen so much of Betsy's precaution and alertness, as well as affection for her mistress, that I could not but hope for and rely upon her help on this occasion.

"She will soon," said I, "hear of the fire, and then she will immediately hasten to the place, and find some means of saving your property."

"She will not hear of it," said Octavia; "she has gone a long way out of the city. The hotel is built of wood, and the fire will consume it in a few hours; besides, I am certain that the fire has broke out near my room. Oh, no! all the things will be destroyed."

The loss seemed as nothing to Octavia. She was much more uneasy on account of the distress which her husband and her mother would feel if they should hear of the circumstance before she wrote.

In the mean time, as hour after hour went on, and we received no tidings either from Betsy or from St. Charles's, Octavia determined to go to one of her friends, who dwelt not far from the great hotel, that she might there gain some information, or even still go to the place itself.

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When she had been gone about an hour, there was a hasty ring at the gate which leads from the garden into the street. I recognized Betsy, and rushed down to speak to her.

"How is it, Betsy?" cried I.

"All safe!" said she, so out of breath that she could hardly speak, but with a beaming countenance. "I have all the money with me!" and she laid her hand upon her breast. "Where is my Missis?"

"I believe that she is gone to St. Charles's," said I.

"There is no longer a St. Charles's," said Betsy. "It is burned to the ground!"

And so it was. In less than three hours' time that splendid building was a heap of ashes, and its population of nearly four hundred persons were houseless.

I went out with Betsy to seek for Mrs. Le V.

On our way, that faithful creature told me how the rumor of the fire had reached her, how she had hastened to the hotel, how one of the gentlemen there, a friend of Mrs. Le V., had broken open the door of her room, and how he and Betsy had saved all Octavia's property. Not an article was lost. Betsy told me still more as we went along, of how much she loved her mistress; of how she might have been married more than once, and how there was still a free man in the North who would gladly have her, but she could not think of leaving Mrs. Le V. "She was so fond of her, she should never leave her."

But who would not be fond of Octavia?

When we reached the residence of Mrs. Le V.'s friend, we found that she had been taken thence to a small hotel in the neighborhood of St. Charles, and thither Betsy hastened to seek for her.

With the thought of Mrs. G. I went to the scene of conflagration, in the hope of hearing some tidings of her there, and was fortunate enough, when near the place, to meet her eldest son, and to hear from him that she, his   [p. 231]   father, and little brother were all well lodged in the house of a friend at no great distance. I passed St. Charles's; merely a small number of people were now busied about the fire. It had done its work, and the flames were now consuming the lower portion of the beautiful colonnades, and ravaging the remains of the basement story. The burning ruins produced a very picturesque effect. Not a trace of tumult or disorder appeared on the open space in front. Every thing had been already disposed of and housed elsewhere; every thing was tranquil. It was now only about four hours from the outbreak of the fire, and I have heard to-day that a subscription is already on foot to erect another St. Charles's. American expedition!

A few persons have been injured by the fire, and many have lost their effects. The fire broke out just by Octavia's room, which was very near mine. How fortunate that it did not happen in the night!

I do not grieve about St. Charles's. It was, in my opinion, a dear, uncomfortable, splendid hotel, and worthy of such a death! I was obliged to pay four dollars and a quarter for a residence there of one night and half a day in dark room, four stories high. But Louisiana is a very dear place, the dearest in the United States.

From 20th to 27th January. Quiet days, but disagreeable weather! Since the day when I last wrote, and when the weather had changed from warm to bitterly cold, it has rained incessantly, and been cold and cheerless with a perseverance such as I scarcely ever saw before. Not a blue speck in the heavens, not a sunbeam--perpetual fog, sleet, and gray cold. To-day, for the first time, it has cleared up, and seems as if it would again become pleasant. This weather has caused many excursions, both within and out of the city, to be deferred. But how thankful I am for my quiet and pleasant home during this time! Mr. and Mrs. C. are kind, gentle, and very quiet people, and that order and comfort, which is a distinguishing   [p. 232]   feature of American homes, prevails in their house. Anne W. is full of life and quiet fire, imprisoned within her, as in the diamond; she is an intellectual and interesting being, who affords me great pleasure, from the originality of her character, and her reading aloud in the evening. In this way she has made me acquainted with various English poets hitherto almost unknown to me. It has been a great pleasure to me to hear her read Shelley's magnificent poem, "Prometheus Unbound," which would be the most glorious poem of the age if its conclusion had been equal to its opening scenes. But this is stranded on a threadbare morality. I have also enjoyed the reading of Browning's poems and dramatic pieces, as well as some by Elizabeth Barrett, the wife of Browning. Browning does not appear to me great as an artist. There is a deficiency of strength and coherence in his compositions. But a something singularly grand and pure in feeling and tendency gladdens and warms the heart. A spirit of noble, self-sufficing heroism permeates his poems. One feels one's self refreshed as by the waftings of a something divinely great.

I spent one evening with Mr. and Mrs. D., friends of Mr. Lerner H., and heard good music, well played by amateur musicians, gentlemen and ladies of the Northern States. Another evening I attended the opera, where I heard Meyerbeer's "Prophète." The piece is unpoetical and meagre in its conception, but it affords grand spectacle, and the music of Meyerbeer has, in all cases, some dramatic, characteristically beautiful parts. Mrs. D., who performed the part of the mother of the prophet, played and sang nobly and well. The prophet was a wearisome person, so was his beloved. If the piece, instead of being founded on a poor love intrigue, had been sustained by religious fanaticism and spiritual pride, such as we meet with in the historical prophet, John of Leyden, the opera would have had a true interest. As it is, there is no food   [p. 233]   for thought, and it excited my nerves to that degree with its continual startling effects, that it was with difficulty I could keep my eyes open. The last scene was monstrously magnificent, and woke me up a little. The sight of the white-garmented, lovely young Creoles in the pit and boxes charmed my eyes as before. But I discovered some pearl-powdered noses on the faces of some of the elderly ladies.

I have also visited asylums and schools in consequence of invitations. New Orleans is divided into three municipalities; the schools are said to have greatly improved within the last few years. Teachers, both male and female, come hither from the Northern States, and wherever they come, they bring with them that energetic educational life which distinguishes those states. A female teacher in one of the schools of New Orleans can obtain a salary of one thousand dollars annually; but the living, on the other hand, costs three times as much as in the other states of the Union.

I heard the boys in the great boys' school singing boldly the praise of their native land, as

The land of the brave and the land of the free!

This is sung in the slave states without any one perceiving the satire of the domestic institution which such praise implies.

Thus, from childhood upward, is the natural sense of right, and the pure glance of youth, falsified by the institution of slavery.

And it does not operate injuriously merely upon the upright mind of the child, so that it does not perceive the lie, but also upon its heart and its character. A noble lady of New Orleans, who has resided here some years, told me a great deal of the unhappy effects of slavery upon the education of the child, and its influence in making the young disposition stubborn and intractable. The child, surrounded by slaves from the cradle, accustoms himself   [p. 234]   to command them, to have all his caprices gratified, or to see the refusal punished, often with cruelty. Hence results that violence of temper, and those ferocious and bloody scenes which are of such frequent occurrence in the slave states. And how can it be otherwise? Even I have seen a few examples of the behavior of children to slaves, which has shown how much this institution tends to develop the naturally despotic disposition of the child.

I visited a school for young girls, where I could not but admire their capacity for making intellectual salto mortales.

During the examination which the superintendent caused them to pass through, and which they passed through with remarkable ability, the questions were proposed something in this style:

"What is snow? How large is the standing army of the Emperor of Russia? Where is Lapland? Who was Napoleon? What is saltpetre? How far is the earth from the sun? When did Shakspeare live? In what year did Washington die? What is the amount of the population of France? What is the moon?" and so on.

The girls answered in chorus, very quickly, and for the most part quite correctly. The whole examination was a succession of surprises to me, and I can not do other than admire the kind of order which must be obtained in those young souls, from their contact with snow, the standing army of Russia, Lapland, Napoleon, saltpetre, Washington, the population of France, and the moon!

I must now tell you about a real African tornado which Anne W. and I witnessed last Sunday afternoon. It was in the African Church, for even here, in this gay, lighthearted city of New Orleans, has Christianity commenced its work of renovated life; and they have Sunday-schools for negro children, where they receive instruction about the Savior; and the negro slaves are able to serve God in their own church.

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We came too late to hear the sermon in this African Church, whither we had betaken ourselves. But at the close of the service, a so-called class-meeting was held. I do not know whether I have already said that the Methodists form, within their community, certain divisions or classes, which elect their own leaders or exhorters. These exhorters go round at the class-meeting to such of the members of their class as they deem to stand in need of consolation or encouragement, talk to them, aloud or in an under voice, receive their confessions, impart advice to them, and so on. I had seen such a class-meeting at Washington, and knew, therefore, what was the kind of scene which we might expect. But my expectations were quite exceeded here. Here we were nearer the tropical sun than at Washington.

The exhorters went round, and began to converse here and there with the people who sat on the benches. Scarcely, however, had they talked for a minute before the person addressed came into a state of exaltation, and began to speak and to perorate more loudly and more vehemently than the exhorter himself, and so to overpower him. There was one exhorter in particular, whose black, good-natured countenance was illumined by so great a degree of the inward light, by so much good-humor and joy, that it was a pleasure to see him, and to hear him too; for, although his phrases were pretty much the same, and the same over again, yet they were words full of Christian pith and marrow, and they were uttered with so much cordiality, that they could not do other than go straight to the heart with enlivening power. Sometimes his ideas seemed to come to an end, and he stood, as it were, seeking for a moment; but then he would begin again with what he had just now said, and his words always brought with them the same warmth and faithfulness, and he looked like a life-infusing sunbeam. And it was only as the messenger of the joy in Christ that he preached:

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"Hold fast by Christ! He is the Lord! He is the mighty One! He will help! He will do every thing well! Trust in him, my sister, my brother. Call upon him. Yes. Yes. Hold fast by Christ! He is the Lord!" &c., &c.

By degrees the noise increased in the church, and became a storm of voices and cries. The words were heard, "Yes, come Lord Jesus! Come, oh come, oh glory!" and they who thus cried aloud began to leap--leaped aloft with a motion as of a cork flying out of a bottle, while they waved their arms and their handkerchiefs in the air, as if they were endeavoring to bring something down, and all the while crying aloud, "Come, oh come!" And as they leaped, they twisted their bodies round in a sort of cork-screw fashion, and were evidently in a state of convulsion; sometimes they fell down and rolled in the aisle, amid loud, lamenting cries and groans. I saw our tropical exhorter, the man with the sun-bright countenance, talking to a young negro with a crooked nose and eyes that squinted, and he too very soon began to talk and to preach, as he sprung high into the air, leaping up and down with incredible elasticity. Whichever way we looked in the church, we saw somebody leaping up and fanning the air; the whole church seemed transformed into a regular Bedlam, and the noise and the tumult was horrible. Still, however, the exhorters made their rounds with beaming countenances, as if they were in their right element, and as if every thing were going on as it ought to do. Presently we saw our hearty exhorter address a few words to a tall, handsome mulatto woman, who sat before us, and while he was preaching to her she began to preach to him; both talked for some time with evident enchantment, till she also got into motion, and sprang aloft with such vehemence, that three other women took hold of her by the skirts, as if to hold her still on the earth. Two of these laughed quietly, while they continued to hold her   [p. 237]   down, and she to leap up and throw her arms around. At length she fell and rolled about amid convulsive groans. After that she rose up and began to walk about, up and down the church, with outspread arms, ejaculating every now and then, "Halleluiah!" Her appearance was now calm, earnest, and really beautiful. Amid all the wild tumult of crying and leaping, on the right hand and the left, she continued to walk up and down the church, in all directions, with outspread arms, eyes cast upward, exclaiming, in a low voice, "Halleluiah! Halleluiah!" At length she sank down upon her knees on the platform by the altar, and there she became still.

After the crying and the leaping had continued for a good quarter of an hour longer, several negroes raised the mulatto woman, who was lying prostrate by the altar. She was now quite rigid. They bore her to a bench in front of us, and laid her down upon it.

"What has happened to her?" inquired Anne W. from a young negro girl whom she knew.

"Converted!" said she laconically, and joined those who were softly rubbing the pulses of the converted.

I laid my hand upon her brow. It was quite cold, so also were her hands.

When, by degrees, she had recovered consciousness, her glance was still fixed, but it seemed to me that it was directed rather inwardly than outwardly; she talked to herself in a low voice, and such a beautiful, blissful expression was portrayed in her countenance, that I would willingly experience that which she then experienced, saw, or perceived. It was no ordinary, no earthly scene. Her countenance was as it were transfigured. As soon as, after deep sighs, she had returned to her usual state, her appearance became usual also. But her demeanor was changed; she wept much, but calmly and silently.

The tornado gradually subsided in the church; shrieking and leaping, admonishing and preaching, all became   [p. 238]   hushed; and now people shook hands with each other, talked, laughed, congratulated one another so heartily, so cheerfully, with such cordial warmth and good-will, that it was a pleasure to behold. Of the whole raging, exciting scene there remained merely a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure, as if they had been together at some joyful feast.

I confess, however, to having been thoroughly amused by the frolic. Not so Anne W., who regarded that disorderly, wild worship with a feeling of astonishment, almost of indignation; and when our warm-hearted exhorter came up to us, and, turning especially to her, apologized for not having observed us before, that it was with no intention to neglect us, and so on, I saw her lovely coral-red upper lip curl with a bitter scorn as she replied, "I can not see in what respect you have neglected us." The man looked as if he would have been glad, with all his heart, to have preached to us, and, for my own part, I would gladly have listened to his Christian exhortation, given with its African ardor. We shook hands, however, in the name of our common Lord and Master.

And spite of all the irrationality and the want of good taste which may be felt in such scenes, I am certain that there is in them, although as yet in a chaotic state, the element of true African worship. Give only intelligence, order, system to this outbreak of the warm emotions, longings, and presentiments of life, and then that which now appears hideous will become beautiful, that which is discordant will become harmonious. The children of Africa may yet give us a form of divine worship in which invocation, supplication, and songs of praise may respond to the inner life of the fervent soul!

How many there are, even in our cold North. who in their youthful years have felt an Africa of religious life, and who might have produced glorious flowers and fruits if it only could have existed--if it had not been smothered   [p. 239]   by the snow and the gray coldness of conventionality--had not been imprisoned in the stone church of custom.

I have visited some other churches in New Orleans, a Unitarian, an Episcopalian, and a Catholic Church, the last with the name dear to me, that of St. Theresa. But the heavenly spirit of St. Theresa was not there. An Irishman jabbered an unintelligible jargon, and in not one of these houses of God could I observe or obtain that which I sought for--edification. There was, at all events, life and ardor in the church of the negro assembly.

What more have I to tell you about New Orleans? That it is a large city of one- hundred thousand inhabitants, and the commercial capital of the southern portion of the Mississippi Valley, yon can learn from books. The crescent-formed site of the city on the Mississippi is beautiful, and it has some handsome streets and markets, and splendid houses surrounded with trees and shrubs, like other American cities. The French and older portions of the city have a more bald and business-like character; but New Orleans is beyond every thing else a business and trading city, and it is far behind the other large cities of the United States as regards institutions for a higher intellectual and moral culture. It does not possess any means of artistic enjoyment, excepting at the theatres, and these, especially as regards dramatic scenes, do not take a very elevated stand.

At the present moment, people here are occupied with the prosecution of several of the gentlemen who accompanied Lopez as leaders on his robber expedition to Cuba. Lopez has been released on his finding surety to a considerable amount--15,000 dollars, I believe --but a certain Colonel Henderson, and others, have yet to be tried, and are to plead their own cause, as they are said to be possessed of great ability in--making speeches. The New Orleans gentlemen laugh, and call the whole thing "a farce," which will not result in any thing but--long   [p. 240]   speeches! There is no earnestness in the prosecution, and this gives rise to somewhat more than a suspicion that certain slave states have an interest in the expedition.

I have rambled about the city during the few fine days which have occurred while I have been here, but have found few objects of interest for the eye, excepting those lovely, colored Creole women, who, with their delicate features, fine eyes, and pretty heads, adorned with showy handkerchiefs, tastefully arranged, according to the custom of New Orleans, produce a very piquante appearance; and I have seen in the streets young servant-girls, quadroons, whose beauty was perfect. Their figures also are generally slender, and remarkably well-proportioned.

New Orleans has long been known as a "very gay city," but has not so good a reputation for its morality, into which French levity is strongly infused. This, however, it is said, decreases in proportion as the Anglo-American people obtain sway in the city. And their influence grows even here rapidly. The French population, on the contrary, does not increase, and their influence is on the decline. Nor have I heard the most favorable testimony given to the commercial morality of New Orleans. On one occasion I heard a merchant, a friend of mine, say, as he stood among the sugar-hogsheads on one of the great wharves of the city, "There has been more rascality practiced on this very place than would be sufficient to sink the whole city!"

Nevertheless, there is a good public spirit at work to make the city worthy to maintain its place on the earth. One excellent institution now in progress of erection here is a large sailors' home, in which it is intended to board and lodge in an excellent manner, and at a reasonable rate, sailors whose vessels are lying in the harbor either to land or to take in cargo. Hitherto, mariners arriving at the city have had no other abode than in ale-houses, which were regular nests of thieves. The large and magnificent house   [p. 241]   which is now being erected by good men of the city, will henceforth provide a comfortable and safe haven for the mariner. Two of my gentlemen friends, who are working for this cause, hope to interest Jenny Lind in it, who is shortly expected hither from Cuba; and as the house is intended for the benefit of the Swedish as well as any other seamen, it is probable that this patriotic and generous Swede will interest herself in its behalf.

I read to-day in a New Orleans paper, "The Daily Picayune" (picayune is the name of a little Spanish silver coin which is current here, value sixpence), a beautiful and earnest address to the inhabitants of New Orleans, beseeching them to leave the celebrated Swedish singer at full liberty in the exercise of her well-known beneficence, and not to fail in proper respect to a stranger by their obtrusiveness or exhortations, etc.

And it must be confessed, that although Jenny Lind has often had just cause to complain of the Americans' well-meant, but frequently thoughtless and childish obtrusiveness, yet I have often had opportunities of knowing and admiring the beautiful and magnanimous manner in which people here have felt for her. How many there are who have satisfied themselves by a silent benediction rather than cause her a moment's annoyance; how many who would not allow themselves to approach her, because they knew that they could not give her pleasure by so doing, nor would venture to invite her to their homes for the same reason.

I remember hearing an estimable old gentleman, a judge at Cincinnati--a magnificent old man he was!--say that he accompanied her, in the newspapers, every step of her journey, with that interest and solicitude which a father might have for his daughter; and that he felt real distress that she should, in any degree, compromise her beautiful reputation by any unadvised step. And I have heard so much said about Jenny Lind in America, that I know that while people love in her the singer and the giver of money,   [p. 242]   they love still more the young woman, in her beautiful rôle and reputation--the ideal Jenny Lind.

But I must now speak of Louisiana and New Orleans. Louisiana, as you know, was first discovered by the Spaniards and French. The French were the first who attempted to colonize Louisiana. They began and left off, and then began afresh. It would not succeed. But a great deal was said in France and England about Louisiana as a promised land, an El Dorado, with immeasurable internal wealth ready to be brought to light, and faith in this gave rise to the gigantic financial speculation of John Law, based upon the fabulous, delusive wealth of Louisiana, and afterward to the great bankruptcy of all who had taken part in that wild speculation. Louisiana or that vast country embracing the southern part of the Mississippi, and which at that time included Arkansas, passed afterward from the dominion of the French to that of the Spaniards, then back to that of the French, until, in the year 1503, Louisiana was purchased by the government of the United States, and united to them as an independent state. In the mean time, Louisiana had been cultivated and peopled by the French, Spaniards, English, Germans, and other nations, and New Orleans had slowly grown up amid inundations and hurricanes, and with small prospect of ever becoming that "crescent city" which it now is.

The population of Louisiana did not exceed fifty thousand souls, not reckoning the Indians, when it was incorporated with the United States. Seven years later the amount of its population was three-fold. The new epoch, and new life, however, of both Louisiana and New Orleans, first commenced when, in the year 1812, the first steam-boat came thither upon the Great River. This was soon followed by hundreds of other steam-boats, and New Orleans rapidly increased to a city of the first rank among the cities of the South.

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The whole of Louisiana is flat, in part swampy and under water, and in part rich and fertile country; sugar, cotton, maize, rice, indigo, are the products of Louisiana. In the northern portion, where the sand elevates itself into little hills, are forests, which abound in many kinds of trees--oak, chestnut, walnut, sassafras, magnolia, and poplar. In the south the palmetto, mulberry, live-oak, cedar, and pine, and every where an abundant growth of the wild vine. There are also many navigable rivers, tributaries of the Mississippi, which, as well as bogs and small lakes, abound in alligators. These alligators, though they do not venture to attack full-grown men, not unfrequently carry off little negro children. Louisiana is said to produce many poisonous plants, serpents, and other noxious creatures. It seems to me an undesirable place in every way. I would not live in it for all its sugar and cotton.

I must now tell something of the internal history of New Orleans, or, rather, a story which has struck me. That noble-minded Mr. Poinsett, the old ex-minister of South Carolina, told me that slavery seemed to operate still more prejudicially on women than on men, and that women not unfrequently were found to be the cruelest slave-owners. And, whether it was a mere accident or a confirmation of the truth of this assertion, the most terrible instances which I heard mentioned in South Carolina of the maltreatment of slaves were of women, and of women belonging to the higher grades of society. I believe I already have told you of the two ladies in Charleston who were publicly accused for the murder of their slaves, the one by hunger, the other by flogging, and who, although they were acquitted by cowardly laws and lawyers, yet fell under the ban of public opprobrium, and were left to a dishonorable solitude and to--the judgment of God.

My friend of the Mississippi, the pure conscience of   [p. 244]   Louisiana, had asserted the same fact as Mr. Poinsett, and, as if it were in substantiation thereof, New Orleans has not in its chronicle of crime a more bloody or a more detested name than that of--a woman, Mrs. Lallorue, born Macarthy. It is to the honor of New Orleans that this wealthy lady has been obliged to fly from the fury of its hatred. But how long before that time had she tormented her victims?

It appears that the behavior of her brother to his mistresses of the colored race excited her hatred toward them. Other slave-owners maltreat their slaves in the irritation of the moment or the excess of temper, but Madame Lallorue maltreated hers because she enjoyed and relished their sufferings. She was the possessor of a large plantation, and indulged upon it her arbitrary sway in such a manner as roused her neighbors in arms against her. They announced to her that they would no longer hear of such transactions; and that in case they did, she should become amenable to law.

On this, Madame Lallorue fled to New Orleans, where, less under observation, she could devote herself to her own private pleasure. She here derived an income by hiring out her slaves, who every week were compelled to bring home their earnings to her. If, however, they did not return to the time, or if their earnings were less than she thought proper--woe to them! Her own house-slaves had no better fate; on the slightest occasion--which never fails for those who desire it--she confined them in the cellar, fettered with iron chains, where she visited them only to practice her cruelty on them. I will not tell you the means which she used to indulge her lust of cruelty--the chronicles of heathenism and fanaticism know nothing worse. Enough--the doleful cries of her victims found their way above ground, through stone walls and bolted door, and made themselves heard. It was noised abroad in the city. The heart of the people swelled with   [p. 245]   indignation. They gathered in crowds round the house in which she lived; they vowed to release the victims, to pull down the house, and take vengeance on this monster in the shape of woman. The business was in rapid progress; the walls of the house were beginning to fall, when--the mayor appeared with an armed force. Madame Lallorue's house was preserved, and an opportunity was afforded her to escape through a back gate. She fled, half dressed, out of New Orleans; and, somewhat later, left America.

She afterward lived in Paris, and received there the income of an immense property acquired in Louisiana, by what means we know. She died, it is said, only a short time since. Who can doubt a hell after death when they see the life and pleasure of such persons on earth! Madame Lallorue's husband, a Frenchman, still resides in New Orleans, and is said to be a man of good character. He must at that time have lived separate from his wife.

This circumstance occurred ten or twelve years since.

If it really be true that women are the worst of slave-owners, it must proceed from their temperament being in general more excitable, and from the climate having an unusually irritating effect upon the nervous system by its stimulating character; besides which, women generally exceed men in their extremes either of good or evil; they are by nature more eccentric, more spiritual, nearer the spirits, whether they be angels or devils.

In Sweden also--in the highest circles of Stockholm--we have known ladies whose domestics bore bloody marks, and whom the police were obliged to take in charge. Countess L. was amiable, kind, agreeable to every body except her domestics, and she was not able to keep a servant in her house beyond six weeks. We have had the ladies of two foreign ministers--both English--both of whom, from their treatment of their servants, deserved the Christmas gift which one of them received from an   [p. 246]   acquaintance of the family--a bloody medal of bravery! A good thing is it that the servants of these ladies could leave them, thanks to the laws of a free country! But here, in this free country, people can, in the face of such facts, still defend slavery as a patriarchal institution, quite compatible with the laws of a free people, and with human rights and happiness!

I have had here several contests with a lady who defends these opinions, and who, in order to prove the justice and equity of slavery, and the happiness of the negro slaves under this excellent institution, avails herself of arguments and sophisms, backward and forward, with such an amazing contempt of logic and all sound reason, that I have sometimes become dumb from sheer astonishment.

I avoid, in a general way, as much as possible, conversation on this subject. The question of slavery is a sore eye which winches at the slightest touch. It is painful to the good, and it irritates those who are not good, while it serves no purpose one way or the other. I am therefore silent when I can be so with an easy conscience; but for all that, it is evident that the question can not rest; that the work of light has commenced for the release of the children of Africa, and that their condition, even here, is improving with every passing year.

I would gladly tell you of some good female slave-owner who might be placed as a counterbalance to Mrs. Lallorue, but--I do not know any; such, however, must exist. The very bad make a great noise, and the good but very little. But I must tell you of a gentleman, a slave-owner, who seems to me to stand in the slave states as an opened door to the house of bondage.

Two years ago there died in New Orleans a gentleman named Macdonald, who left behind him a property of many millions of dollars, the whole of which he bequeathed for purposes of public benevolence in Louisiana. This singular man, who lived in the most miserly manner, expended   [p. 247]   next to nothing upon himself, and never gave away any thing, not even to his near relatives, who were almost perishing of want; his one thought was how to save, to accumulate, and by the increase of each day to double his capital, and to this end all his activity and industry were applied, even in the smallest thing. He was parsimonious even of his words, and parted with nothing unnecessarily.

Nevertheless, he had great thoughts and plans. He considered himself as destined by Providence to acquire an immense property, by means of which to achieve great things for the good of the state of which he was a native. He regarded himself, therefore, as the steward of his wealth, and maintained that he had no right to give even the smallest portion thereof for the most trifling object. These, at least, were the pretexts with which he gilded his parsimony and his hardness of heart.

He said, "If I, year after year, double my capital in this (a certain given) proportion, I shall in the end become the richest man in Louisiana; I might, continuing in this way, ultimately purchase the whole of Louisiana, and then--" Then he would do great things, which would make Louisiana the finest and the happiest state in the Union. And Macdonald had views for this purpose, and plans which prove him to have been possessed of a deeply thinking mind. But the poor man forgot that he was mortal, and, although he attained to an extreme old age, yet he had not nearly acquired the wealth after which he strove when he was surprised by--death. His magnificent plans will die with him, and effect little or nothing for Louisiana, except possibly in one respect, and that is the one of which I spoke, as--the opening of the prison-door.

Macdonald was a planter and the owner of slaves. He determined to emancipate his slaves, and that in a mode by which they should gain, and he lose nothing.

He said to them,

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"You shall work yourselves free, and purchase your own release from slavery for the same sum which I paid for you. I will give you the means of doing this. You shall work for me five days in each week, as heretofore, for food, clothing, and habitation; you shall work for me also on the sixth day, but I will pay you wages for that, and give you credit for the money thus earned, which I will employ for you. Thus the first year. During the second year you shall be paid for two days' labor in the week, provided that you work industriously and well; the following year three, and so on, till the sum is acquired which is requisite for my reimbursement, and for you to have a little over, so that you may possess enough to begin life with in Liberia, whither I shall send you when you are free."

The slaves knew that Macdonald would keep his word. They began to labor with new heart, because they now labored for their own freedom and their future well-being. Some accomplished it more rapidly, others more slowly, but within two years all the slaves on the plantation had worked themselves free. Macdonald fulfilled his part to them as he had promised, and they could now become free without detriment either to themselves or others. They had become accustomed to work, to forethought, and self-government, at least so far as regarded their own affairs. In the mean time, Macdonald's plantation had been unusually well cultivated, and the slaves had repaid their original purchase-money.

I do not know whether it was Macdonald's intention to have his plantation afterward cultivated by white laborers or by free blacks; but one thing appears to me certain, and that is, that Macdonald's mode of effecting the emancipation of slaves is deserving of consideration and imitation, as one of the wisest which can be devised for the gradual and general release of both the blacks and the whites of North America from the fetters of slavery.

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I know many estimable and thinking men of New Orleans who consider that such a mode of emancipation, as would, by degrees, convert the negro slaves into free laborers, might be put into operation without much difficulty, and that all those dangerous results which people imagine are, in great measure, only fears and fancies.

I have been told that the severest slave-owners in this neighborhood are French, and I can credit it from the French popular temperament; the Scotch and the Dutch take the second place. Slaves of small and poor proprietors often suffer very much from hunger, as do also cattle. I heard to-day of one place where a considerable number of cattle had literally perished for want of food.

I have made inquiries after the Christmas dances and festivities of the negro slaves, of which I heard so much, but the sugar-harvest was late last year, and the sugar-grinding was not over till after New-year's day; the cotton is still being plucked on the plantations, and the dances are deferred. I have now traveled in search of these negro festivities from one end of the slave states to the other, without having been lucky enough to meet with, to see, nay, not even to hear of one such occasion. I believe, nevertheless, that they do occur here and there on the plantations.

For the rest, I have experienced so much kindness, have met with so many good and warm-hearted friends, that I have been both astonished and affected. I had always heard New Orleans mentioned as a very lively but not very literary city, and Mr. Lerner H. had prepared me to find that the people of New Orleans liked to see that which was beautiful. It was clear, therefore, that for that very reason they would not like to look at me; and yet they have come and come again to me, have overwhelmed me with kindness and presents, as well men as women, and made my days pleasant in many ways. For my own part, I have no other memories of New Orleans but those of pleasure and gratitude.

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Octavia le V. returned home a few days ago. Those eyes, which remained dry and bright when she was in danger of losing all her ornaments and her money, overflowed with tears when she had to part from her newly-found friend. I kissed away the tears from those pale cheeks. I feel that I am heartily attached to her.

Mrs. G. has been an incomparable friend to me at this time when I had to prepare my wardrobe for Cuba--somewhat elegant, and of a light summer texture at the same time --and when I had divers little misfortunes, partly caused by the dress-maker, but principally through my own blunders. You know how annoying all such business is to me; but you can scarcely imagine how I have felt it here, where weariness both of body and mind as well as ignorance of prices and persons in the dress-making and millinery world, rendered all my difficulties tenfold. Neither can you at all imagine how kind and amiable Mrs. G. has been during all these great little troubles--her patience, her good temper; nor, lastly, how well she has helped me with every thing. Yes--I am ashamed when I compare myself with her; but then she is one of the most amiable people I ever met with.

In the evening. I have now had my last drive with Anne W. along the beautiful cockle-shell road to Lake Pontchartrain. The air was delicious, and the sky once more gazed upon us with blue eyes from between the clouds, which parted more and more. The road, for the most part, runs through flat and still unreclaimed forest-land. One does not here see our beautiful moss and lichen-covered mountains and hills, but thickets of the primeval forest, from which, on all sides, look forth those beautiful palmetto-trees, with their large, fan-like leaves waving in the air, and the regular and graceful form of many half-tropical plants, which, indicating a new phase of earth's vegetable productions, have a wonderful fascination for me.

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In the morning, in the morning, my Agatha, I shall go on board the great steamer, "The Philadelphia," and in three days I shall be at Cuba. I shall be very glad to get there, both because I shall see some new beauties of nature, and because I shall breathe a milder air, and shall escape during the winter months this variable American climate, which is so trying to my strength both of body and mind. I have become physically ten years older during this twelve months' journey in North America.

But be not afraid for me, my dear heart, but trust, as I do, that my traveling fairy, your little friend, which has hitherto conducted me safely through all perils --which conducted me without any misadventure down the whole extent of the Mississippi to New Orleans, at the very time when four steamers, with their passengers, were blown into the air upon its waters, and caused me to remove from St. Charles's Hotel to this good home the day before the hotel became the prey of flames--the same will conduct me safe and sound once more to my own sister-friend, to you.

P.S.--I have been gladdened here by letters from my friends in the North, the Downings, the Springs, and the Lowells. These friends accompany me like good spirits, and I must tell you so, because you must love my friends. Maria Lowell writes, the little traveling companion who went with us every where, and to Niagara, and yet which never spoke, and remained so quiet, was--a little boy, who now, large, and stout, and rosy, is little Mabel's oracle. She listens to every sound he utters, and says to it all, "What does little brother mean?" Beloved, happy Maria!

Jenny Lind is now in Havana, and people speak differently of the success of her concerts. I believe, nevertheless, that she will gain the victory over her adversaries, who in reality belong to the French party in the country, and who contest her rank as a great singer. She will be   [p. 252]   received here in New Orleans with enthusiasm; every heart is warm, every ear open to her. She will leave Havana just when I am arriving, and it is doubtful whether I shall see her.

I am well, my beloved child, and in good spirits. God grant that you are so too! And you must be so, with the help of homeopathy. May Æsculapius enlighten you and those concerned.

I shall soon write again from Cuba!