I believe New Orleans to be as vile a place as any under the sun; a perfect Ghetto or cursed place; in fact, it is the rendezvous of renegades of all nations, and hordes of negro traders and planters are to be seen flocking round the hotels. These are extensive patrons of the gambling-houses; and the faro, _rouge-et-noir,_ roulette, and other establishments, fitted up with gorgeous saloons, are generally crowded with them. As you pass, you may observe the frequenters of such places in dozens, deeply engaged in play, while the teller of the establishment sits at a table with a huge heap of Spanish doubloons or Mexican mill dollars before him, which he adds to or takes from with the tact of a banker's clerk, as the chances of luck may arise. Violence and Woodshed have been indigenous to this city from time immemorial, and feuds are instantly settled by an appeal to the bowie knife, or ever-ready revolver. Highway robberies are very frequent, and I was told it was more than your life was worth to be out after dark, in certain localities, unless armed and on your guard. The police authorities are, nevertheless, vigilant, and the magistrates severe, so that many desperadoes are brought to justice.

The suburbs of New Orleans lie low, and the swampy soil emits a poisonous miasma. This is, without doubt, the cause of virulent epidemics that visit the city annually with direful effect. Thousands fly to the northern states, to escape the contagion; but there are many who, for want of means, are obliged to risk a continued residence at such periods, and it is amongst those that the yellow fever, the ague, or the flux, plays dreadful havoc. It is the custom for the small store-keepers, as well as the more affluent merchants, to confide their affairs at such seasons to others, and I have frequently seen advertisements in the _New Orleans Picayune_, and other papers, offering a gratuity to persons to undertake the charge in their absence.

An Englishman's Travels in America — Part 51

The heat, although the summer was not far advanced, was excessive, and the thousands of mosquitoes that filled the air, especially after a fall of rain, when they seemed to burst into life in myriads spontaneously, kept up an increasing annoyance. At night this was ten-fold, for notwithstanding the gauze awnings, or bars, as they are called, which completely enveloped the bedstead, to the floor of the room, they found admittance with pertinacious audacity, and kept up a buzzing and humming about my ears that almost entirely deprived me of rest. This unceasing nuisance in the hot season, makes it difficult to keep one's equanimity of temper, and has, probably, much to do with that extreme irascibility shown by the southern inhabitants of the American continent.

An Englishman's Travels in America — Part 51