USA > Louisiana > Orleans Parish > New Orleans > Creole families of New Orleans > Part 6
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The Pontalba family lived on their Indigo planta- tion outside the city facing the river where, following the example of thrift of their neighbors and friends, they drew their daily expenses from the profits of their garden and orchard, sending their filled-up baskets into the city every morning by their ven- deuses. These were selected from their choicest slaves-strong, straight, sturdy young women who could walk miles holding a heaped-up basket on their heads without wavering, and who never failed to bring back the full amount of their sales, keeping their accounts in their heads and their money in kerchiefs tucked in their bosoms. (We shall read later Gayarré's description of them as he remem- bered them on the Boré plantation.)
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Madame de Pontalba had been reared as a daughter by her aunt, Celeste Macarty, the wife of Governor Miro. When Miro was recalled to Spain in 1792 he left his private affairs to de Pontalba as to a son. In 1795 Miro died, and his wife fell into a state of despondency and ill-health so alarming that her niece was summoned to her side. Without hesitation on the part of either husband or wife Madame Pontalba made her preparations to hasten to Spain. She took with her the little five-year-old son-the apple of his father's eye-although the voyage was fraught with danger. She had never traveled out of the province before and the separa- tion seemed almost that of death.
It is to this separation that we owe the prettiest document without doubt in Louisiana historical archives: this is the series of letters, or rather the letter-journal written to her by her husband during nine months, day after day, from the 24th of Feb- ruary, the day of her departure, to the 10th of November, when he announces that he is on the point of leaving and will in three months be reunited to her in Spain. The picture of perfect marital devotion and a man's virile expression of his gratitude to the woman who for seven years had given him, as he writes, the enjoyment of the purest earthly bliss, would alone give to the letters a rare and unique interest and make the reading of them an intellec- tual treat; but we are concerned here more in the other interest they offer us of the confidential and frank description of the life he led in his enforced widowhood. The incidental details fill out a com- plete picture of what in truth constituted New
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Orleans a century and a quarter ago; its business, its diversions, its sorrows, its gossip and its truth.
The collection as a whole is so perfect in its way that to detach a leaf of it is to pull out a petal from a beautiful flower. With the exercise of self-restraint, only what was necessary to satisfy natural curiosity has been detached. "Tintin" Celestin, the little son, flits like an iridescent butterfly through the letters. We can see the father's eyes soften and grow moist over his paper as he writes about him; and our own eyes grow moist as we think upon the great tragedy awaiting the father and son as the result of their passionate love, the one for the other.
The personality and the family of the Baron de Carondelet, his wife and his little son, Angelito; his brother, the Abbé, who dies of yellow fever; the card parties at the Government house; the set of intimates who frequented them-all such personalia are new to the historian of Louisiana, and are pre- sented here for the first time in literature. The description of the insidious advance of an epidemic of yellow fever-the first epidemic that came to New Orleans-and, day by day, the tale of its casualties recall to the dwellers in New Orleans only an oft-suffered misfortune, the catastrophic details of which are limited only by what human nature can suffer.
Pontalba describes the interesting young émigré officer de Coigne, his brief appearance in the social life of the place, his fever, his death; the beautiful and lively Madame de Rivière; the hospitable aunt de Macarty and her frolicsome parties; the other aunts, Madame d'Aunoy and Madame Jonchère ;
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the shrewd and cunning (as he calls him) Don Andres Almonaster and his pettish wife, Louise de la Ronde; his intimate friend, Philippe de Marigny (the splen- did host of the Royal Princes) and his scheming in a bargain to get ahead of de Pontalba (who showed himself not a whit behind him in money- making.
We are told of the house-building for himself and Madame Miro; the buying and selling and hiring out of slaves, with the black cloud in the distance, but ever getting nearer, of a rising of the slaves, spreading from the insurrection and barbarous out- rages of the blacks in St. Domingo; the constant watchfulness of Carondelet to avert a repetition of the same in Louisiana; the secret, gnawing fear of it among the planters, and the consequent panic. And, as time goes, comes the infiltration of the rumor of a political change in Louisiana; the retrocession of the colony perhaps to France and in the end its probable domination by the United States.
The enumeration of it all seems endless. Not a letter has been omitted without a pang of regret; every one is important. What has perforce been left out has been done so with the hope that some day, by the grace of some divine historical benefaction, all the letters will be published in the full series as de Pontalba wrote them.
The first two weeks give the chronicle only of the days, the weeks of the wife's absence, of the lonely house, the desolate heart, the longing for news of what happens to the vessel. "What of his dear little love, Tintin? Does he talk of his father? Does he want to put his arms round his neck 'tighter, tighter,' to say good-night to him?"
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A few extracts from the journal follows:
"13th March .- I have been passing my day planting strawberries. I did it to divert me from my weariness. I no longer have the passion for gardening that used to furnish all my amusement. I see now that you and our son were the end and aim of all my occupations. If I cared for the flowers it was in order to sce your pleasure in gathering them; I really never enjoyed the beauty of my strawberries except when we were together and amusing our- selves with the joy of Tintin in gathering them. I see them now covered with flowers without taking any interest in them. When I look at them I seem to hear the cries of joy of our little love, and I stand overcome with the saddest of thoughts. Where are you, mon amie?
"I am gardening more than ever. Of all ways of passing the time I find it the least insupportable. With Augustin, when he has no hauling to do, and with Baptiste and Jean, I busy myself working in the garden. I had forgotten it completely, but on walking through it I saw in it magnificent cabbages, already headed, as fine as any in Europe; lettuce, too, fringed and headed, superb brocoli, and already some little saucers of strawberries. I gather them myself, sending the handsomest to my Aunt d'Aunoy (Made- moiselle d'Estréhan) : the rest I share among friends.
. . Just ask my little Tintin what he wants me to do with all these strawberries. There are two big bowls of them a day, large and ripe; ask him if he does not want to come back and let me fill up his little wagon with them. In truth, mon amie, I have a lot of them and I am passing for a great gardener. I am making presents of them. They are found so good that every one wants to plant them now and multiply them everywhere. Every one believes that I have made a particular study to produce things in different seasons from other people. In fact I am the only one at present with headed cabbage. I have put Jeannette to selling them; she brings me back six dollars a day and sells all that she has. She only sells summer cabbage, brocoli, and fringed lettuce. Dussuau (de la Croix) is jealous of my talent; he pretends that I make more than he does. I do not sell my strawberries: I give them away, but they would bring four dollars a day. Dussuau complains that his sellers are so poor that they bring back nothing.
"From time to time, I pass the evenings at the Governor's (Governor Carondelet), when I do not go to my relations. It is
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the only house where I go. They play cards there-sometimes 'Bourre,' sometimes 'Coq.' Madame de Rivière does not like to lose, and gets seriously offended with those who do not treat her well at these games. Treating her well is to let her win money, and as I do not treat her well she finds that I play a very ridiculous game and criticizes it a great deal; and you know this does not make me more complaisant. Oh! mon amie, where are those delicious evenings that I passed with you and my son? I go out and I look everywhere, but never, never do I find aught that can replace them.
"24th March .- All this bad weather has put our levees in the most unfortunate condition. I am afraid that le Breton (her brother) will not make any more than Pedesclaux. The crevasse at M. Port's has been abandoned. It has become so great that we are assured that it is a second Bonnet Carré .* Massicot has a large crevasse as well as Braud, near d'Estréhan. Besides the river is flowing over all the levees. Our fields are covered with water. Next year the planters will have to add a foot to the height of their levees.
"31st March .- I received a letter yesterday from M. Herrera announcing that he had forwarded the garden seed that M. Paul Miro had the kindness to send me. Although I have aban- doned my garden, the seed will give me great pleasure. I announced their arrival to my aunt d'Aunoy, to whom I had just given an assortment I received from New York. That will give her certainty of making something out of their garden, which they wanted to give up because all their vegetables were brought back to them unsold. They are surprised to see my garden at present full of fine cabbages, brocoli, beautiful lettuce and spinach, without any cost to me. It is sold as soon as it gets to the market, but I prefer to send them to my friends. I have revealed my secret to them, which is to get my seed from the North. .
. I passed the whole of to-day at the Governor's. I tried to get from the Baron all the circumstances relating to the revolt of the negroes. It seems to me from what was told me that there was very little reason for the alarm that produced a very bad effect. The slaves are not ignorant of the reason why many planters have brought their families to the city. They will deduce from that, that they are feared, and this will give birth in their
* A very disastrous crevasse of recent occurrence.
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heads to projects that they never would have conceived otherwise. In fact, the planters have for fifteen days kept the government in alarm, and the clearest thing about it all is that there is no plot. The three negroes who have been arrested could only be convicted of having been guilty of seditious language tending to a revolt, but it could not be proved that any plot had been formed and it now appears that there was more fear among the planters than danger to the colony.
"18th May .- . . Another very boisterous party at Gentilly. Tremoulet took charge of getting it up. A list was passed around in the circle of Madame la Baronne (de Carondelet). The men each gave five dollars in accepting and each one was to invite the lady he wished. I like to contribute to the amusements of others and so I did not fail to pay my share, with the tacit condition that my presence would be dispensed with. In truth I profited by the excuse given me by the rain this morning to remain at home.
"I know, mon amie, that it would give you pleasure to have me profit by any amusement that presents itself, and that is a reason for me why I should not miss any if there were a chance of getting any diversion out of them, but as I feel that I should bore as much as I am bored I should be very much out of place in them. It is not a privation but a heavy duty I have spared myself. When the ladies return this afternoon, I shall call on them and shall not fail to find some valid excuse for not going.
Ask my little Tintin if he has forgotten our little crayfish parties: tell him I saw one this morning that interested me far more than the party to Gentilly. His little cousins d'Aunoy with Celeste la Jonchère were fishing for them, catching fire or six on their line at one time. I recalled the joy he would have had if he had been with them. I could see him, hanging over the ditch at the bottom of our field, screaming with glee whenever he brought one up.
Mon amie, the memory of all these little nothing's and that of the perfect happiness I enjoyed from your tenderness and kindness during the whole time of our union are with me all the time, and it is above any pleasure that society could offer me. If I could only know what you are doing at this very moment; where you are; what is to become of you; what your unfortunate situation is, and that of our little love; and if our good friends feel some consolation from your presence!
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"22nd May .- . Mdle. Macarty, with whom I passed the evening in her box at the Comédie, spoke a long time about you and of our dear good aunt. Tintin was not forgotten. When I meet with any one, mon amie, to whom such conversation is pleasing, I never tire. Such moments are the only ones that do not depress me. My little Tintin took much of my thoughts during the whole play. I seemed to hear him repeating, 'Down with your arms! The first one who advances toward me I will lay him low!'
Tell him not to lose the habit of saying good night every evening to his papa.
"24th May .- It was before your departure, I think, that d'Aunoy received a letter from Zénon Trudeau at the Illinois, announcing the arrival at his house of M. de Coigne, an émigré, the nephew of M. de Copineau, who asked him to interest himself in the newcomer and begged him to engage me, as well as Favrot and others who have served under his father (de C's), to do some- thing for him. He praised him and d'Aunoy, who at that time took no other interest in him than what was inspired by his attach- ment to M. Copineau, asked M. le Baron (de Carondelet) if he could not do something for him. He wrote to de Coigne inviting him to come straight to his house, and he arrived yesterday morn- ing. The la Jonchère family were staying with d'Aunoy, and his own house was full, so I hastened to offer a room in my house which d'Aunoy accepted with pleasure. He had begged de Coigne to look upon his house as his own home, assuring him that although his fortune was not in proportion to the size of his family, he would take charge of him. When I entered into the service, the father of this young man was Captain of Grenadiers in the regiment in which I was a cadet. He had a pretty, agreeable wife, of pleasing manners, whom we cultivated a great deal, and he used to receive us in a friendly way. De Coigne, the son, does not need this to inspire interest. He inspires it as soon as he makes himself known. I told d'Aunoy that I wanted to have my share in providing for him, and since d'Aunoy had invited him to eat at his house he must leave the care of lodging him to me. He has arrived naked after an emigration of two years, during which he has been in need of the necessities. I was with him this evening for two hours in his room, talking all the time of you and of our good aunt. He showed so much interest and he is in such full accord with all my sentiments that I find he is the one that I love most to talk to
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about you all. Good evening, good night, I embrace you tenderly. . I began my day, mon amie, with an action that pleased me very much, since I owe it to you, sending to Mde. E. what you left for her. I should like to have something as pleasant to do every day.
The son of M. D. has just arrived from St. Domingo. He left it only fifteen days ago. He pretends that the negroes there are absolutely the masters and that at the Cape there are only forty or fifty white men, who are worse treated by the negroes than the negroes were ever treated as slaves. It seems that they want to be independent of everything white, even of the French Republic. A Spanish frigate which came into port was forced to leave. The negroes would not permit it to stay and, by threatening to sink it, forced it to withdraw. M. le Baron who, up to the present, has been so vigilant to protect us against suspicious folk, has relaxed a great deal lately.
At last, mon amie, I am thinking seriously of building in front of the river on the Grand Pré lot. My plan is made; the materials bought; and the trade concluded. The news yesterday decided me. We received from Kentucky the Treaty of Peace between Spain and the Americans. They have the free navigation of the Mississippi from its source to the sea without paying any duty. They have New Orleans as a place of deposit for three years, and every kind of merchandise is allowed them except munitions of war. You can judge by that, mon amie, that this country is going to become one of the most prosperous in the world. The population will increase in an incredible manner; property will double in value; stores and houses will be rented at exorbitant prices and our city will soon resemble Philadelphia in the diversity of nations that will live here. One of the articles of the treaty permits liberty of worship and the Americans will be permitted to bring in their own lawyers to settle their differences. I believe that there will no longer be any Custom House, for it would be useless.
"This treaty is already ratified by Congress and should be, at present, with the Court of Spain. It cannot be long before we receive official notice of it here. It is to be put into execution six months after ratification, which would bring us to the first of next October. I think from all this that I shall be able to sell advan-
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tageously all my built-up lots. My intention is to sell the seven stores I have on the corner of the 'Contador,' as well as those I have in front of the Government House (on Toulouse Street, be- tween Chartres and the levee), reserving sixty-five feet depth on the whole length facing the river, upon which I could at once put five stores. I cannot get any more tiles from Pensacola I have just bought twenty thousand tiles at fifty-six dollars a thousand.
" . . . Everybody is building. It is inconceivable the rapidity with which everything is being built in brick as a protection from fire. I have found nearly all that I need. I have bought them from Madame de Marigny through her husband, who prides himself on being a man of business. . . This evening I went to the 'Comédie,' because they were playing 'The Honest Criminal.' The piece recalled to me the happiest time of my life, though it was very badly given. Henry inspired no interest in the role of the honest criminal. Fontaine and Madame Marsay were the only ones that gave pleasure.
Behold me a gambler! Mon amie, look out for your- self! Quick to my rescue! Your presence by absorbing me will help to speed this kill time, for I cannot call it otherwise. In short, I went this evening to the card party (at Madame Carondelet's). Madame Landry, Madame Gauthier, Madame Macarty and others were there. The ladies are now reconciled to Madame la Baronne, whom they find very tactful. In fact you cannot find ladies more amiable in society, more friendly, more simple, more affable, than these who now frequent her parties and who are attached to her. The number would be greater if it were not for 'la petit Rivère,' who estranges them by her airs with them; besides she never loses a chance to say a risqué thing, which she takes for a witticism. When modesty forces the ladies to pretend not to notice it she thinks her witticism is lost or, no doubt, that their minds are obtuse and that they have need of an explanation-which she gives at once without being asked, always at the risk of making some one always blush. So she is never at her ease except when she is in the company of la Baronne, Madame Macarty or Madame Maxent. . . .
. I am charmed at having M. de Coigne staying with me; he often keeps me company; an amiable, solid young man, sensible and, I think, very frank and honest. He is of a very gay tempera- ment. He tries to recommend himself to me so that I shall make
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a good marriage for him, one that will relieve him of his troubles. For four years he has been without resources, living from day to day, and never knowing what fate awaited him on the morrow. He seems grateful towards those who have assisted him, although we have not done much for him. He came here with only the clothes he had on his body. We introduced him everywhere after we had provided for his needs. I think we shall be able to get him out of trouble. In the meantime, I shall see that he needs nothing. D'Aunoy, seconded by his wife, treats him as if he were of the family.
You would be astonished to see how the city is building up and all with terraced roof and frame work covered with brick or plaster; there are hardly any traces left of the fire .* Barthelmine Borgone is rebuilding the house I sold him on Chartres Street and his neighbor who bought a lot from Pierre (Marigny) is building also. I judge that this great rush of building will make rents fall and for this reason I feel like not putting the ceilings in the houses of your aunt and leaving the woodwork very simple so that the capital required will not be so great and for fear she might not receive the rent I flattered myself she would. I am following the same course with mine which I am not furnishing with ceilings or windows.
Pardon me, mon amie, I must write you one word in spite of my fever. You know it is impossible for me to live without concerning myself with you, and that as long as a breath of life is left me I will make it serve to repeat to you that though my strength may decline my love for you will never weaken. My attacks of fever have been long, the interval between them short before the chill seizes me again. I have hardly had any head- ache.
De Coigne who loves greatly to visit, begged me to take him this afternoon to call on Mesdames Dreux and Cespédez. The former announced to us that in a few days she was leaving for Gentilly and she invited us to come next month and hunt grassées with her. As for our cousin (Cespédez), she inquired all about the poor emigrant and asked him a thousand questions, ending by telling me that he was a charming man.
* The great fire of 1787 that burned out the old original city of Bienville. The new city that was built was practically the handsome old-world city we see to-day.
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"14th June .- In passing through the street yesterday I saw the children of M. L. The poor little wretches seemed to be in the greatest poverty. If I had found you at home when I came in and had told you about them you would have done something to help them. I did not want them to suffer too much by your absence so I tried to guess what you would have done. I have so many half-used things that you left here in the armoires-stockings, drawers, vests, chemises, skirts, corsets. I cleared the house of all that was useless and sent it all to her, for the poor mother will know how to make use of it to clothe her children. What was only a nuisance to me will be very useful to her. I added ten dollars, thinking of the pleasure you would have had in sending them. She has thanked me in a way that shows me how timely the little assistance was.
"15th June .- M. de Coigne has returned from his little trip, and I am very glad of it. It is necessary that I should not be alone at home; I am too much plunged into sad reveries that harm my health. He is well satisfied with the houses of Robert, Mde. Marigny, Destréhan, Robin, etc. He wishes to return there often, but never, he says, to Mde. Boré. He did not see the husband, and the wife became so exalted in conversation, with so much fire and so much passion, that he had doubts for a moment whether he was in New Orleans. Miss Hortense seemed, he said, to have the air of admiring with astonishment all that her mother said, and he had hopes for no recourse in that quarter. He has become well informed as to what would suit him; it seems he made enquiries. He understands nothing, he says, of the management of slaves, and even less about business; he sees no other resource for him than a supportable marriage, and in this is all his ambition. Céleste Marigny would suit him well, but he fears the rivals who surround her; he would prefer Mdle. Emme, because he sees in her more possibilities, and less delay ; Mdle. Collet did not excape him either; he is careful to pay frequent visits there and if he loses all hope in these quarters he will see if it is possible to fix the attention of her who was able not to give way before the attack of the poor great Captain of the Grenadiers, Chs. de Bouillé.
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