Yes, Eric, "democratic vistas" both better and worse.
From a contemporary point of view, a delight to see a City full of people
instead of suburban emptiness that pervades much of this country now. Even
San Francisco is full of neighborhoods that are as empty as a Utrillo
painting.
Stephen V
Blog: http://stephenvincent.net/blog/
(Please note: new blog address).
> And then there's this, for better and worse:
>
>>
>>
>> V. November Boughs
>> 17. New Orleans in 1848
>>
>>
>> WALT WHITMAN GOSSIPS OF HIS SOJOURN HERE YEARS AGO AS A NEWSPAPER
>> WRITER. NOTES OF HIS TRIP UP THE MISSISSIPPI AND TO NEW YORK.
>>
>> [From the New Orleans Picayune, Jan. 25, 1887.]
>> 1
>> AMONG the letters brought this morning (Camden, New Jersey, Jan.
>> 15, 1887,) by my faithful post-office carrier, J. G., is one as
>> follows:
>>
>> "NEW ORLEANS, Jan. 11, '87.-We have been informed that when you
>> were younger and less famous than now, you were in New Orleans and
>> perhaps have helped on the Picayune. If you have any remembrance of
>> the Picayune's young days, or of journalism in New Orleans of that
>> era, and would put it in writing (verse or prose) for the Picayune's
>> fiftieth year edition, Jan. 25, we shall be pleased," etc.
>> 2
>> In response to which: I went down to New Orleans early in 1848 to
>> work on a daily newspaper, but it was not the Picayune, though I saw
>> quite a good deal of the editors of that paper, and knew its
>> personnel and ways. But let me indulge my pen in some gossipy
>> recollections of that time and place, with extracts from my journal
>> up the Mississippi and across the great lakes to the Hudson.
>> 3
>> Probably the influence most deeply pervading everything at that
>> time through the United States, both in physical facts and in
>> sentiment, was the Mexican War, then just ended. Following a
>> brilliant campaign (in which our troops had march'd to the capital
>> city, Mexico, and taken full possession,) we were returning after
>> our victory. From the situation of the country, the city of New
>> Orleans had been our channel and entrepot for everything, going and
>> returning. It had the best news and war correspondents; it had the
>> most to say, through its leading papers, the Picayune and Delta
>> especially, and its voice was readiest listen'd to; from it
>> "Chapparal" had gone out, and his army and battle letters were
>> copied everywhere, not only in the United States, but in Europe.
>> Then the social cast and results; no one who has never seen the
>> society of a city under similar circumstances can understand what a
>> strange vivacity and rattle were given throughout by such a
>> situation. I remember the crowds of soldiers, the gay young
>> officers, going or coming, the receipt of important news, the many
>> discussions, the returning wounded, and so on.
>> 4
>> I remember very well seeing Gen. Taylor with his staff and other
>> officers at the St. Charles Theatre one evening (after talking with
>> them during the day.) There was a short play on the stage, but the
>> principal performance was of Dr. Colyer's troupe of "Model Artists,"
>> then in the full tide of their popularity. They gave many fine
>> groups and solo shows. The house was crowded with uniforms and
>> shoulder-straps. Gen. T. himself, if I remember right, was almost
>> the only officer in civilian clothes; he was a jovial, old, rather
>> stout, plain man, with a wrinkled and dark-yellow face, and, in ways
>> and manners, show'd the least of conventional ceremony or etiquette
>> I ever saw; he laugh'd unrestrainedly at everything comical. (He had
>> a great personal resemblance to Fenimore Cooper, the novelist, of
>> New York.) I remember Gen. Pillow and quite a cluster of other
>> militaires also present.
>> 5
>> One of my choice amusements during my stay in New Orleans was
>> going down to the old French Market, especially of a Sunday morning.
>> The show was a varied and curious one; among the rest, the Indian
>> and negro hucksters with their wares. For there were always fine
>> specimens of Indians, both men and women, young and old. I remember
>> I nearly always on these occasions got a large cup of delicious
>> coffee with a biscuit, for my breakfast, from the immense shining
>> copper kettle of a great Creole mulatto woman (I believe she weigh'd
>> 230 pounds.) I never have had such coffee since. About nice drinks,
>> anyhow, my recollection of the "cobblers" (with strawberries and
>> snow on top of the large tumblers,) and also the exquisite wines,
>> and the perfect and mild French brandy, help the regretful
>> reminiscence of my New Orleans experiences of those days. And what
>> splendid and roomy and leisurely bar-rooms! particularly the grand
>> ones of the St. Charles and St. Louis. Bargains, auctions,
>> appointments, business conferences, &c., were generally held in the
>> spaces or recesses of these bar-rooms.
>> 6
>> I used to wander a midday hour or two now and then for amusement
>> on the crowded and bustling levees, on the banks of the river. The
>> diagonally wedg'd-in boats, the stevedores, the piles of cotton and
>> other merchandise, the carts, mules, negroes, etc., afforded
>> never-ending studies and sights to me. I made acquaintances among
>> the captains, boatmen, or other characters, and often had long talks
>> with them-sometimes finding a real rough diamond among my chance
>> encounters. Sundays I sometimes went forenoons to the old Catholic
>> Cathedral in the French quarter. I used to walk a good deal in this
>> arrondissement; and I have deeply regretted since that I did not
>> cultivate, while I had such a good opportunity, the chance of better
>> knowledge of French and Spanish Creole New Orleans people. (I have
>> an idea that there is much and of importance about the Latin race
>> contributions to American nationality in the South and Southwest
>> that will never be put with sympathetic understanding and tact on
>> record.)
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