CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Mobile—Gulf of Mexico—Passage of the Balize—Landing at the entrenchments near New Orleans—Entrance into the city—Entertainments and Public Ceremonies—Battle of New Orleans.
The vessel on board of which we had retired, on leaving the ball, was the Natchez, an excellent and handsome steam-boat, sent by the city of New Orleans to transport the general from Mobile to the shores of the Mississippi. An experienced captain, Mr. Davis, commanded her; she had on board the Louisiania deputation, at the head of which was Mr. Duplantier, an old friend and companion in arms of the general. At the break of day, cannon were heard, at which signal we weighed anchor. The general stationed on the deck, received the farewell of the citizens who pressed in crowds to the shore, and testified their sorrow by expressive gestures and a gloomy silence. In half an hour, the city of Mobile disappeared from the horizon, which enlarged around us, and in a short time the smoke of the artillery, tinged by the rays of the rising sun, also became invisible. When night returned, it found us in the Gulf of Mexico.
To reach New Orleans, we might choose between two routes; either behind Dauphin, Horn, Dog, Ship, or Cat islands, traversing lakes Borgne and Pontchartrain, and disembarking a few miles in the rear of the city, or else boldly cross the gulf to the mouth of the Mississippi, pass the Balize and ascend the river. Our captain, confident of the solidity of his vessel, decided on the latter plan, which was not unattended with danger, but it gained us a whole day. We soon repented of his determination. A storm arose in a short time. The motion of the vessel became so disagreeable that we were obliged to lie down to avoid the sea sickness which attacked almost all of us. During the night, the wind greatly augmented, and the waves became so high, that several of them entering the ports, inundated the cabin and our beds. The noise of the wind,waves, and engine, with the creaking of the vessel, were so horrible, that we expected to founder every moment. At break of day I ascended to the deck, from whence I beheld the most imposing and awful spectacle; we arrived at the Balize. We could not avoid feeling a strong emotion at the sight of this magnificent river, whose rapid stream and prodigious breadth announced rather a conqueror than a tributary of the ocean. Its waves repelling, to a great distance, those of the sea, heaped on the low islands at its mouth, thousands of immense trunks of trees, which, after having flourished for ages under the polar circle, were now decaying under the burning sky of Mexico, and feeding a new vegetation with their remains. Enormous alligators of a sinister appearance and sluggish gait, attached to the floating trunks of trees, menaced the navigator, and seemed to dispute the entrance of the river with him. For a long time after we had entered the Mississippi we thought ourselves in another sea, so distant are its shores, and so tumultuous are its waves. It was not until after some hours that it became sufficiently narrow for us to perceive its muddy banks, or that the stream diminished in swiftness.
In the morning we passed fort Plaquemine, from which we were saluted with thirteen guns, and night again surprised us before we could perceive the walls of New Orleans. No variety in the vegetation is perceptible for sixty miles from the Balize. Hitherto nothing was to be seen but cypresses covered with the sombre tillandsia, called by the natives of the country, Spanish beard. This parasitic plant, which forms a long and dense drapery on the trees, has a more melancholy appearance, from its only growing in countries subject to the yellow fever. It is said to afford food to those animals which seek a shelter in the woods during the winter. The inhabitants of Louisiana employ it to stuff matrasses and cushions; for these purposes, after having washed it in an alkaline solution, they beat it till the husk is detached; when it is dry it has the appearance of long black hair. It is so durable as to be considered incorruptible. It is employed with success in building, mixed with mortar or tenacious earth.
About midnight, I went on deck for a short time; the night was dark, the sky charged with thick clouds, and the air filled with a hoarse noise. The batteries at New Orleanswere then firing a salute of a hundred guns, to announce that the day on which the guest of the nation would arrive, was commencing.
Next morning we awoke near those famous lines where twelve thousand picked English troops were overthrown by a few hundred men, the half of whom bore arms for the first time. Astonished at the cries ofVive la liberté, vive l’ami de l’Amerique! vive Lafayette!in the French language, we hastened on deck. What was our surprise on seeing the shore covered with French uniforms! For an instant we believed that we were transported back to the bosom of our country, once more freed, and our hearts beat with joy. General Lafayette disembarked in the midst of the thunder of artillery, and the acclamations of an immense multitude, who, regardless of the badness of the weather and the distance from the town, crowded the levee. He was received by a numerous escort of cavalry, and by the twelve marshals who had been appointed to direct the procession. Leaning on the arm of his ancient companion in arms, Mr. Duplantier, and of General Villeré, he proceeded to the house of Montgomery, which had been Jackson’s head quarters on the day when he covered himself with glory by his admirable defence of his lines. The governor of the state there waited for him, and received him in the name of the people of Louisiana.
The speech of the governor, depicting Frenchmen enjoying a liberty which is still considered in France as problematical, made a deep impression on the general, and he replied to it with much emotion.
At the conclusion of his reply, every one that could force an entrance into the house were presented to him in turn. There were a great number of the veterans of the revolution, and among others, Colonel Bruian-Bruin, who had served at the siege of Quebec, where the brave General Montgomery perished; Judge Gerrard, who fought at Yorktown, Colonel Grenier, who, after having gloriously assisted in the three revolutions of America, France, and Colombia, still preserved at seventy years of age, all the courage and fire of youth. A great number of ladies also came down to meet the general, and offered him their congratulations through Mr. Marigny, on his safe arrival in Louisiana. After all the presentations had been gonethrough, the procession was formed, and, notwithstanding the violence of the rain, we took up the line of march to the city. We advanced but slowly, from the denseness of the crowd, which, as we approached the city, blocked up both the road and the levee. When we arrived at the outskirts of the town we met with bodies of troops drawn up in two lines, through which we passed to the sound of martial music. Notwithstanding the badness of the weather, the general proceeded along these lines on foot, and before he again entered the carriage returned his thanks to the commanding officers. The procession again moved on, augmented by the troops falling into the rear, and, as it advanced, the crowd became still greater in spite of the continuance of the storm. This immense concourse of people, the view of the triple row of houses adorned with hangings, bordering the river side, the sound of the artillery and bells, and the prolonged acclamations of the whole population, produced a sensation which it is difficult to describe; at last, in the midst of these testimonies of strong affection, the general arrived at the barrier of the public square, and was conducted by the committee of arrangement under a triumphal arch of admirable architecture and excellent design. This monument was sixty feet in height, forty of which were below the springing of the arch, by fifty-eight in breadth; the arcade was twenty feet wide, and twenty-five long; it rested on a socle imitating Sera-Veza marble; the base, forming a pedestal of green Italian marble, was decorated with colossal statues of Justice and Liberty. This allegorical basement supported an arch of the doric order, adorned with four coupled columns on each face. The key-stones were composed of twenty-four stones, each decorated with a gilt star, united by a fillet, on which was engraved the word,Constitution, thus representing the twenty-four states connected by one common tie. The pediment, in imitation of yellow Verona marble, supported two figures of Fame with trumpets, and carrying banners entwined with laurel, having on them the names of Lafayette and Washington; the whole was surmounted by the national eagle. The upper socle supported an entablature of seven feet, on which was inscribed, in English and French, “A grateful republic dedicates this monument to Lafayette.” On the top of the monument was a group representingWisdom resting her hand on a bust of the immortal Franklin, and the four angles were decorated with rich national trophies. The names of the signers of the declaration of independence, and those of officers who had distinguished themselves during the war of the revolution, were inscribed on various parts of the arch. This beautiful edifice, designed by Mr. Pilié, and executed by Mr. Fogliardi, presented a striking appearance, and the reliefs had an admirable effect.
Under this monument the general was received by the municipal body, at the head of whom was the mayor, Mr. Roffignac, who addressed him in the name of the citizens of New Orleans.
In expressing his thanks to Mr. Roffignac, the general did not permit such an occasion to escape him, of paying a tribute of esteem to the memory of the father of this worthy magistrate. “On my entrance into this capital,” said he, “I feel penetrated with gratitude for the reception I have met with from the people of New Orleans and its worthy mayor, whose name recalls to a cotemporary of his father’s, recollections of courage and loyalty.” Mr. Roffignac appeared extremely affected by this testimony of the general’s to the exalted character of his father, and the tears that escaped from his eyes proved the depth of his feelings.
After leaving the triumphal arch, the general was conducted, amidst the acclamations of an immense crowd, to the city hall, where he was complimented by Mr. Prieur in the name of the city council; from here we went to the hotel of the municipality, where our quarters had been prepared, and which the people of New Orleans designated by the name of the “Lafayette house.” After taking a few moments of repose, the general went out on a balcony to review the troops. All the detachments that passed were remarkable for the elegance of their uniform, and the exactness of their discipline. The grenadiers, the voltigeurs, Union guards, chasseurs, New Orleans guards, Lafayette guards, each in turn attracted the attention of the general. But when, in the rear of the riflemen, whose name recalls so many recollections of gallantry, he perceived a file of a hundred Choctaws, marching, according to the Indian custom, in a single line, he was much gratifiedto see, that, by a delicate attention, they had shown him that his name was familiar to the warriors of the most distant nations, and that they had admitted among their troops, these brave Indians, who had been the allies of the Americans in the Seminole war, and, who, for nearly a month past, had been encamped near the city, in order to see the “great warrior,” “the brother of their great father Washington.”
The next day, the general received the visits of the vice president of the house of representatives, and of those members of the legislature who were then in the capital, and immediately afterwards the gentlemen of the bar, headed by Mr. Derbigny, who had been chosen their orator, were presented to him. In a discourse filled with noble thoughts, and pronounced with a touching eloquence, Mr. Derbigny eulogised with delicacy and address, that rectitude of mind, and firmness of character, which, during political tempests, had always guided Lafayette in the path of justice, and preserved him from participating in the excesses of party.
In his reply, the general, carefully avoiding any allusion to the eulogies that had been heaped upon him, confined himself to the consideration of the general interests of Louisiana, and the individual exertions of those who complimented him; he felicitated the citizens of that state, after having been governed by the criminal laws of France and Spain, that they gradually ameliorated them, and were still occupied in perfecting this part of their code, to such a degree, that it might even serve as a guide to the rest of the United States, whose criminal laws are already so superior to those of every other people.
Being strongly urged to visit both the French and American theatres on the same evening, the general decided by lot which he would attend the first; chance was in favour of the American. We went there at seven o’clock, and were received with an enthusiasm that cannot be described; they gave an appropriate piece, of which neither he nor the audience could appreciate the merit, as every eye was attracted by the hero of Yorktown, who completely withdrew all attention from the representation of the Prisoner of Olmutz. He afterwards went to the French theatre, where they were impatiently expecting hisappearance. When he entered, the violence of the plaudits, and the repeated cries of “Vive Lafayette,” suspended the representation. Every body rose; it was like Themistocles appearing at the Olympic games: at last, calm being re-established, the general took his seat in the box that had been prepared for him, and saw with pleasure the last act of that charming comedy,L’Ecole des Vieillards, which seemed to me to be as much relished by my former countrymen, the Americans of Louisiana, as by the inhabitants of Paris. Before he retired, the general heard an ode which was performed to his honour, all the allusions of which were applauded with enthusiasm.
In the course of Tuesday morning, a deputation of the Spanish emigrants and refugees presented themselves to compliment the general; and, above all, to testify their gratitude for the manner in which he opposed, in the Chamber of Deputies in France, the invasion of Spain, and the destruction of the liberal constitution.
The general, whose principles had led him to oppose, with all his energy, a measure disapproved of by France—a measure which had produced such disastrous results to Spain, and the heroic victims of which were now before him, was deeply affected by the expressions of gratitude now showered upon him; and, in an eloquent and impressive reply, paid his tribute of esteem, admiration, and regret, to the memory of the unfortunate Riego; he had already, on more than one occasion, openly expressed his opinion on the unhappy death of that generous martyr to liberty, and the whole American nation had partaken of the same feelings, for the consistent and courageous defender of the revolution in the peninsula.
On the following day, many other deputations waited on General Lafayette, and expressed to him their attachment, and devotion to his principles. Among them were those of the militia staff, of the medical society, of the clergy, and of the free blacks, who, in 1815, courageously assisted in the defence of the city; and our two last evenings were occupied, the one by a public ball, and the other by a masonic dinner. I will not attempt to describe these entertainments, which, from the beauty, elegance, and amiability of the ladies, the enthusiasm and frank cordiality of the citizens, the sedulous and delicate attentions ofthe magistrates, the richness and profusion of the details, equalled any thing we had ever met with.
Nevertheless, in the midst of the pleasures thus afforded him by the Louisianians, the general experienced moments of inquietude and sorrow. Sinister rumours reached him; he was told of a serious dispute between the staff and the officers of the militia, on the subject of certain prerogatives of the legion, denied by one, and insisted on by the others with equal warmth, which might produce bloody results after the departure of him whose presence was a curb even on the most headstrong. In so serious an affair he did not hesitate on using all his influence to reconcile citizens, whom a moment of error and a false point of honour had temporarily divided; he, therefore, invited all the officers of the different corps to meet at his house. When they arrived, he told them that they were, doubtless, aware of his reasons in thus bringing them together; that he was informed of what had passed, and the evil consequences that would ensue; he observed, that he felt that he was the cause, however unwillingly, and could he have foreseen such unpleasant circumstances, he should have written to decline their invitation. He begged them to consider the injurious reports it would occasion as regarded all parties, and concluded by begging that they would accept of him as a mediator.
One of the superior officers immediately advanced, and with an honourable frankness said to him, “General, I place my honour in your hands, and now agree to whatever you may dictate.” The eldest of the complainants then observed, “General, I also confide my honour, and that of my comrades, who freely agree with me, in your keeping.” The general took a hand of each of these brave men, and having united them, had the satisfaction of seeing the happiest concord established between men, who an instant before had renounced the pleasing title of brothers in arms. This interesting scene had many witnesses, who soon promulgated the details. The news of it was received with astonishing enthusiasm, as it was a sincere reconciliation between all that Louisiana cherished and revered.
General Lafayette had intended to visit the scene of the battle of the 8th of January, but the continuance of stormy weather, and the necessity for his complying in two or three days to all the kind invitations that were heaped uponhim, obliged him to relinquish the idea. A colonel of the staff, who witnessed the chagrin this sacrifice occasioned me, had the goodness to propose that I should accompany him, whilst the general was paying some private visits. I accepted his invitation with eagerness, and we immediately set out in a carriage he sent for. On the way he informed me that he was born in France; that placed, from his birth, in the privileged class of society, he had, from his infancy, been brought up in the aristocratic prejudices of his caste; and that, although very young at the epoch of the French revolution, he believed it his duty to defend the rights of a few against the natural and sacred rights of the many, and that he had joined the Vendeans. “Then,” said he, “I believed in the legitimacy of an absolute monarchy, and in the hereditary succession of virtue, with all the fervour of ignorance, and I at first fought for them, with all the courage and devotion of fanaticism; but the campaign had not terminated before my reason, bursting the bonds with which education had loaded it, taught me, that instead of combating, as I had believed, for justice and truth, I was merely the instrument of a few men, determined to sacrifice every thing, even their country, to their own private interests, and I sheathed my sword, which I ought never to have drawn in so unjust, so absurd a cause.” He went on to say, that he would have re-entered France, but was deterred by the scenes of bloodshed and confusion then so prevalent in that country. He, therefore, sought in other lands that happiness he was denied at home. After traversing all Europe, and every where finding the same criminal alliance of royalty, nobility, and clergy, against the welfare and interests of the people, he finally settled in the United States. He added, “I had only lived at New Orleans a short time, when, in 1815, the inveterate enemies of the liberty of others in both hemispheres presented themselves before that city. I flew to arms, happy in finding an occasion of proving my gratitude to my new country, and my sincere attachment to the principles which governed it, and I am happy in being able to say, that my presence was not wholly useless on the field of battle we are about to visit.”
My companion had scarcely uttered these words, when our carriage stopped, and we stept out near the extremeright of the lines. Before examining them, the colonel had the goodness to explain to me the operations that preceded and brought on the battle of the 8th. I understood, from these details, how difficult it had been for General Jackson, with the handful of men he had at his disposition, to oppose the landing and rapid progress of an army of 15,000 men, or quadruple his own.
The position chosen by the American general to wait for reinforcements, and to arrest the advance of so formidable an enemy, appeared to me to be very judicious. He threw up entrenchments about five miles below the city, along an old canal, the left of which was lost in the depths of a swampy wood, whilst the right rested on the river. The total length of this line was about eight hundred toises, but as three hundred toises of the left were unassailable, the enemy was confined in his attack to a front of about five hundred toises, and obliged to advance in full view over a perfectly level plain. Nevertheless, whether from want of time, or want of reflection, General Jackson committed two serious errors; the first was in erecting his entrenchment in a straight line, and at right angles to the river, so that he not only deprived himself of the advantage of cross fires, but he also exposed himself, if the English, more skilful or fortunate, had sent a few vessels up the river in the rear of his lines; he exposed himself, I say, to the danger of having had his whole line enfiladed by the enemy’s artillery. The other fault was, erecting his second line at so great a distance from the first, that if this had been forced, he would never have been enabled to have gained the other, and his troops would have been cut to pieces in the interval. These two faults would have sufficed, as may readily be supposed, to compromit the safety of an army more numerous and better disciplined than that of General Jackson; but the destiny of American liberty, or rather the supernatural courage of the citizens, who, on that day, fought for the preservation of their independence, and the safety of their families, with the inflexible firmness of Jackson himself, shaded with the laurels of a most brilliant victory those faults which would have destroyed a less patriotic army.
I will record the details, which were given me with great clearness and precision, of all the operations that precededthat glorious day. I refer those who wish to study them to the excellent memoir of Mr. Lacarriere Latour, and to the equally distinguished accounts of Messrs. Brackenridge and Mac Fee; but I cannot resist the desire of now retracing some of the most brilliant acts which saved Louisiana, and immortalized its defenders.
Notwithstanding all his exertions, General Jackson was unable to collect for the defence of his entrenchments more than 3,200 men, and fourteen pieces of cannon of different calibers, pressed for time, he had been obliged to form the upper part of his works with bales of cotton, brought down from the city. He remained twenty-four hours in this position, expecting an attack every instant, when, on the 8th of January, at break of day, he perceived the English army, 12,000 strong, advancing on him in three columns, the most formidable of which menaced that part of his left wing, defended by the Tennessee and Kentucky militia. Each soldier, besides his arms, carried fascines or a scaling ladder, and marched in the most profound silence. The Americans permitted them to advance within half cannon shot, and then opened on them a terrible fire of artillery, to which the English replied by three cheers, and the flight of some Congreve rockets, and then hurried their march, closing their ranks as they were mowed down by the shot. This coolness and determination, which seemed as if it would ensure them a speedy victory, did not last long. The moment they arrived within musket shot, the Tennesseans and Kentuckians commenced a fire of small arms, which instantly broke their columns, and forced them to seek for shelter behind some thickets, which covered their right. It is true, that infantry never kept up so constant and destructive a fire, as that of these intrepid American militia. The men, arranged six deep, loaded the arms, and rapidly passed them to the front rank, composed of able marksmen, each of whose balls carried certain death to the enemy.
Whilst the English officers, with a courage worthy of a better cause and of a happier destiny, endeavoured to rally their scattered troops, to lead them to a fresh assault, an American artilleryman, in the battery commanded by Lieutenant Spotts, perceived in the plain, a group of officers, agitated and dismayed, carrying off some one with some difficulty. “It is perhaps thecommander-in-chief and only wounded,” exclaimed he, “he must not escape so.” He levelled his piece against them, fired, and Packenham the English commander was killed in the arms of his friends. The desire for revenge now rallied the English; officers and soldiers pressed forward in a new column, led on with fury by Kean and Gibbs, the successors of Packenham. But the fire of the Americans redoubled in intensity and precision; Kean and Gibbs successively fell, the one mortally, the other dangerously wounded, and the column again broken, disappeared, leaving only its wreck on the plain.
Whilst in the centre of the line the American troops were thus crushing their adversaries, without the loss of a single man, fortune seemed as if she wished to try them on the right by a reverse. Twelve hundred English, led by a daring chief, rapidly advanced along the river, and unexpectedly fell on a small redoubt, defended by a company of riflemen and one of the 7th regiment. The Americans, surprised at this point, at first retired in some disorder. General Jackson, whose vigilant eye let nothing escape, at this decisive moment perceived an English officer mounted on the entrenchments, brandishing in one hand his sabre, and with the other assisting his soldiers to scale the rampart. Jackson hastened to the spot, met the runaways, arrested their flight, and, in a terrible voice, demanded of their commander who had given him orders to retreat. “The enemy has forced our entrenchments,” replied the captain. “Well,” answered Jackson in a severe voice, “go back and with your bayonets force them out.” This order was immediately executed. In an instant the English, who at first thought themselves victors, fell under the blows of the Americans. Among the slain, was the intrepid Colonel Rennie, an ancient French emigrant who had entered the English service; the same that had been seen so boldly surmounting the rampart, aiding and encouraging his soldiers in the assault.
This battle, which decided the fate of New Orleans, and perhaps even of Louisiana, only lasted three hours, and cost the Americans but seven men killed and six wounded, whilst the English left near three thousand men and fourteen pieces of cannon on the field. General Lambert, the only one of the English generals in a state to command,ordered a retreat, and hastened to seek shelter for himself and the wreck of his army, on board Admiral Cochran’s fleet, who, the evening before, had said with his accustomed boasting, that if he were ordered to attack the American lines, he would carry them in less than half an hour, with two thousand sailors, sabre in hand.
Thus, a small army, composed of citizens hastily collected, and commanded by a general whose military career had just commenced, beheld an English army, which passed for one of the bravest and most experienced in Europe, and which boasted it had expelled the French from Spain, fall before its patriotic efforts.
When I returned to the city, I found General Lafayette surrounded by numbers of ladies and citizens of all ranks, who, knowing that he would leave them the next morning, mournfully came to bid him farewell, and once more to take him by the hand. In the crowd I remarked some ecclesiastics, and among them a capuchin, whose dress being new to me had attracted my attention on the day of our arrival. The account I heard of him interested me strongly, and may perhaps be equally so to my readers.
Father Anthony, for such is his name, is a venerable capuchin friar of the order of St. Francis, and has resided in Louisiana for many years. Animated by an ardent and sincere piety, Father Anthony prays in silence for all the world without asking prayers of any one. Placed in the midst of a population composed of different sects, he does not think it right to trouble their consciences by endeavours to gain proselytes. Sometimes, as being a capuchin, Father Anthony asks alms, but it is only when he has some good action in view, and his slender funds, exhausted by his constant charity, deny him the power of doing it himself. Every year, when the yellow fever, in stretching its murderous hand over New Orleans, drives the terrified inhabitants to the country, to seek an asylum against disease and death, the virtue of Father Anthony shows itself in all its brilliancy and force. During this time of dread and grief, how many unhappy wretches, abandoned by their friends or even by their relations, have owed their recovery and life to his exertions, his care, his piety. Of all those he has saved, (and there are many,) there is not one who can say, “before he lavished his care on me, didhe ask of what religion I was.” Liberty and charity, such is the moral code of Father Anthony; hence he is not in favour with the bishop. When he came to visit the general, he was dressed, according to the custom of his order, in a long brown robe, tied about his middle with a thick cord. The moment he perceived him, he threw himself into his arms, exclaiming, “O my son, I have found favour before the Lord, since he has thus permitted me to see and hear the worthiest apostle of liberty!” He then conversed a few moments with him in a tone of the most tender affection, complimented him on the glorious and well-merited reception he had met with from the Americans, and modestly retired into a corner of the room, apart from the crowd. I took advantage of this, to approach and salute him. How deeply was I touched by his conversation!—what sweetness! what modesty! and at the same time what enthusiasm! Every time that he spoke of liberty his eyes sparkled with a sacred light, and his looks were fastened on him he termed his hero, on Lafayette. “How happy must he be,” said he, “how pure is the source of all his glory! with what transport he must contemplate the result of his labours and sacrifices! Twelve millions of men happy and free through him! Yes! this man is certainly beloved by God. He has done so much good to others.” He came again to see us the morning before our departure. When the crowd had quitted the room, and he was left alone with the general, he hastened to him, and pressing him with transport to his bosom, “Adieu, my son,” cried he, “adieu, best beloved general! Adieu! may the Lord attend you, and after the termination of your glorious journey, conduct you to the bosom of your beloved family, to enjoy in peace the recollection of your good actions and of the friendship of the American people. O, my son, perhaps you are still reserved for new labours! Perhaps the Lord may make you the instrument of freeing other nations. Then, my son, think of poor Spain! Do not abandon my dear country, my unhappy country!” The tears flowing from his eyes, moistened his long beard, whitened by age; his voice was interrupted by sobs; and the venerable old man, leaning his forehead on the shoulder of Lafayette, remained inthis attitude a few moments, still murmuring, “My son, my dear son, do something for my unhappy country.” It was not without deep emotion that the general tore himself from the arms of this pious patriot, who, before he retired, also bestowed his benediction on Mr. George Lafayette.
But the 15th being fixed for our departure, from the dawn of day the avenues to the general’s apartment were filled with even a greater assemblage than that of the evening before. There were present a great number of ladies, and particularly crowds of children brought by their parents, that they might contemplate the features of the benefactor of the country, the friend of the great Washington. The general left the house on foot. Cries ofVive Lafayettewere heard on every side. In crossing the parade ground, on which were several companies of the legion and troops of the line, lining the avenues, he expressed his gratitude to all the officers whom he met; he again testified to Mr. Gally, the captain of artillery, how much he appreciated the merit of the fine corps he commanded; and, as he understood that this officer intended going to France in a short time, he begged him, in the most pressing manner, to have the goodness to carry news of him to his family at La Grange. He got into a carriage at the extremity of the parade ground, to proceed to the place of embarkation, where the steam-boat that was to take him to Baton-Rouge now waited for him. The levee was crowded by an innumerable concourse of people. The balconies, roofs of the houses, all the shipping and steam-boats which were near this spot, were filled with spectators; and, when he went on board, he was saluted by a prolonged acclamation, but it was not repeated, and more than ten thousand persons remained in a state of profound silence, until the Natchez was out of sight. The artillery only was heard at intervals, giving a solemnity to this separation that was profound and universal.
The governor and his staff, the mayor and municipal body, the committee of arrangement, to whom we owed so many and great obligations, embarked with us to prolong for a few moments the pleasure of being with the general; but at two miles from the city, the most of themwere obliged to leave us. It was not without profound regret that we separated from these worthy officers, whom we had only known for a few days, it is true, but yet sufficiently long to appreciate them fully.