The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1877-04-08
THE CATHEDRAL.
Some Of its Changes In the Last Century
and Hall.

LAffeniers and Milhst died I9f BoHlsisha, more,
Jackson reviewed his troops before and after his
victory, snd this very spot, hallowed with oil
these ANCIENT memories and recollsctops, WAS
Atly chosen for our latest episode In history
which brought us the death of the Packard gov.
eminent.
when we wish TO sos New Orleans in its
ancient days, we have but 10 visit these classic
precincts to draw in inspiraton-not OF Sun
dsy, however, for then the square is alive and
noisy with the songs, the sports, the games oil
children; but Of quiet, sunny, sleepy noon,
lust IA market time IL over and tho long line oil
baskets hiss fslsd homeusrd through the square,
when the milk carts have ceased TO run, whom
ths children sre at A, b, O, when even the pea-
INIT woman Ut the gsts has forssksn her post and
sought refuge from the burning sun under the
aroade Of the police station opposite; then,
stretched upon one Of the crazy iron benches Of
the place, the sun, In very few short minutes,
warns into life old sbadowy rscellectioes Of the
past and brings back sgain the days When Louis
lana wss q SMILING unwed maiden, or the loved
bride Of that Union who, now that her beauty
has deserted her and her dowry u Wasted snd
We turn, half lazy, half slespiIy, TO the patron
Of the square who, hat In hand, 30 CALAMITY
leads some hslf dozen dissipsted lamp posts TO
the charge. and gaze at him sttentvely, so atten.
lively that We cannot fall TO see that the eminent
artist, Mr.. CLARK Mills, hss shod the Generals
horse with decidedly too few nails TO the shoe
has turned the animals ears the wrong way fer
. horse rearing and kicking, and fairly over
loaded him with supsrflaity OF tail. There Ia no
inspiration 10 be drawn from the weather beaten
General; we glance from him TO those two white
faced, fiddle Widowed buildings that stand
aside the Cathedrsl-an odd trio these. lawyer,
priest and policemsn-and try TO solve the conun-
mt I'll
these, and that eagle they bear on their facade,
Matching q nest-inll Of cannon balls, since this
eagle, we know, has rested In the pelican's nest
only these seventy FIVE years, In which time it has
pretty nearly crowded the other poor bird alto
gether out OF bis nest. lsDguid feeling comes
over tis, our limbs grow heavy, cloud gathers
before our eyes, and IS 1t drifts away before the
wind, change comes over the whole scene.
HIS.
All IL. indeed, changed. Instead OF the well
trimmed trees, the tasty flowers the shell walks.
that but lately were around us, is an open,
swsmpy waste, blackensd here and there By half
burnt cypress stumps, and covered with stagpsnt
pools, fringed by tall weeds and grass. The
hslf reclaimed from the former o ate OF swamp.
Running through this swamp is long ditch,
which empties into large half dry basiD, where
in some dozen piroguss are lying. Facing this
basin IL mole on levee, upon which, where but
few short seconds ago the Cathedral seemed to
stand, ID long, low wooden warehouse. built OF
pickets and boards, and matched with moss,
dead leaves and grass. II boasts OF large slid
ing doors, an immense supeiauty OF windows,
and ever 30 many moro openings in the way OF
cracks and crevices. Humble though 1t be, IL is
cont iJuous among its ruder neighbors by its
size and elegance; the latter are but cabins, such
~ furnish lodgings to plantations darkies Of to-
day, while IL Ia some hundred feet in length, and
boasts Of . new coat Of whitewaeh, that gives 1t
grand, magnificent, and even fashionable air.
A plank partition divides this building into two
aa1 tba az ef IL In
subdivided into number OF small closets. In
these are piled mp, hides. bales Of moss, sacks Of
corn and provisions, and utensils Of all kinds.
The other room bears, as its symbol, simple
benches and clumsy box like altar, show that
this, with all its ru. eHess, ID . church.
But wild and rough - it IL, II is not half as
wild and ssvage-looking ~ the little congrega-
only OF these, Of whom the greater number
show, by their short-cropped hair, and the slow
manner In which they drsg one foot behind them
that they have spent no small portion OF their
Also, and appear wholly careless concerning reli.
gion, curse and swear on the very threshold OF
the church, and even deDounce the arrangement
rs inhuman by which the largest, driest and
for religious purposes while they are left in
rickety, leaking cabins. to be drenched by the
rains and frozen by the cold.
1873.
frightful hurricane passes over the settle
ment; the rude warehouse church Ia hurled aside
BY the hurricane, dashed 70 pieces, and its ruins
carried off by the rising waters. In its stead now
stands simple cow-shed, free TO the wind, open
70 the rigors OF the weather. The parish priest
chants prayers to no human choir, but to the
music Of the wind, while the savage river, yet
untamed and unbri led by lsvees, sings forth
perpetual mass Ut the very door OF this church.
A little crowd Of worshippers, much thnned by
hunger and disease, crowd around the church,
less eager perhaps for religious help than for
some word Of news from home. that homo from
which they have got no word for the many months
that storm and hurricane have swept along the
coast.
The little city now boasts Of score or two OF
cabins, scattered around carelessly and unevenly,
without regard TO any settled Ian. These are,
with but few exceptions. Of cypress logs, the
chinks between filed with mud--n fact, just such
cabins o. are yet TO be seen in many western
frontier settlement The town ID now no longer
q swamp, for five foot levee protects 1t from
inusdAon BY the river, while canal, alias ditch,
carries of the superfuous city water that was wont
formerly 70 hnger for weeks over every street and
garden. The square also 10 now Cry and fast
assuming dusty, desert like Look; the grass has
died away, except in spots here and there, giving
the whole place somewhat the appearance Of an
old housewives counter pane. II Is barren Of
Of trees for the old Expresses are gone and the
oaks and cedars but lately rived, donot seem to
thrive In this new atmosphere and under the
rough treatment accorded THEM as poles for
clothes lines.
The parish church Of st.. Louis stares ut the
square. Il 10 . somewhat substantial building
BY tho side Of it's neighbors, for it 10 built Of mind
and brick, Of about one-half the size and less
than one-thrd the height Of our present Cathedral
single steepie cross crowned, rises In the center
Of the building. The church Is simply built,
Of CROSS shape, and a. unornamented az Z
Methodist meeting-hous Of the olden time.
On both sides OF u ID m alley. Behind 1t opens,
not - new, into dreary, melancholy garden,
but direct into Orleans street.
On the right Of this, in the midst OF q little
garden, IL low. rambling two. story building
with one OF those comfortable, old-fashioned
Creole galleries, Of INNER 90 width. sur ported by
huge round log pillars. This 10 the residence OF
the Capuchins, to whom the care OF the parish
church has been confded' On the left are the
rickety town fail and susrd-house.