{"1": {"fulltext": "V,", "height": "3246", "width": "2338", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "lifK pap of Jiff \u00c2\u00a7aint5,\\nAT NEW ORLEANS,\\nA\\n.JYovemher 1st. 1845,\\ne-i\\nV v ^^V^-^\\noo\\nIS^", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "To\\nROBERT BUCHANAN:\\nTon and I are the survivors of a party of gentle-\\nmen who^ loving the science of Botany^ wandered over the\\nhills which surround Cincinnati^ Covington, and Newport,\\nmore years ago than either of us would like to acknowledge.\\nThis fugitive has gone about, disfigured and misprinted,\\nuntil I am fairly called upon to take up my child, and give\\nit, at least, a decent suit of clothes.\\nRemembering, as a boy, the kindness you did me when\\nkindness was valuable, I have honor to be.\\nVery respectfully.\\nTour obedient servant,\\nG. E. PUGH.", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "3\u00c2\u00a3n-jSalnfx-BaB.\\nI ROSE very early, anxious to get a sight of the great capital,\\nand made my way over the cotton bales which were piled upon\\nthe forecastle and guards of our steamer. Once upon the levee,\\nmy emotion was of the highest delight long-expected pleasure\\ngratified to the full. I was at last in New Orleans and, at six\\nof the morning, the walks were thronged with people intent on\\nbusiness. I had seen nothing like it since I left home. It was\\nSunday when we were at Louisville, and almost dark when 1\\nrambled through Memphis. Natchez was a beautiful and indo-\\nlent city, where business seemed but the adjunct of pleasure.\\nHere, however, was bustle mighty Commerce, with her mes-", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "JTIxe IBm ^11 SaCnts\\nsengers vast wealth employed everybody at work. Home\\nmy native Cincinnati rose up to mind. The sky above was\\ngloriously clear the sun gilding the domes of St. Charles and\\nSt. Louis, pouring floods of gladness upon the wide levee and\\nthe noble river.\\nWith some difficulty I succeeded in getting the ear of a lazy\\nblack boy, who sat upon the box of a venerable hack, and made\\nhim understand that I would be carried, with my trunk and\\nmovables, to the St. Charles Hotel. Behold me, however, seated\\nin the rotunda of that splendid establishment, about ten o clock,\\nafter a hearty breakfast not without having run quite around the\\ncity already. My eye, for want of a better occupation, fell upon\\na paragraph in the Picayune, a copy of which paper I had bought\\nfrom a boy at the door of the breakfast room, announcing that\\nthis was All-Saints-Day the ist of November when the cem-\\neteries would be dressed with flowers. I had often heard of the\\ncustom and far away, in the cold North, my heart had warmed\\nwith love for those who thus did honor to the dead. I shall\\nnow behold it, with my own eyes, said I to myself; but will\\nthe reality equal the imagination\\nThe next point to be solved was, where to find the cemeteries.\\nI was an utter stranger, and did not remember to have seen a\\nplace of burial in my walks. I could inquire of nobody.\\nThere were half a dozen old gentlemen sitting about, intent\\nupon reading the news, and several well-dressed loungers of", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "^t ^eto \u00c2\u00a9rlcans.\\nthe younger sort. There, too, was the polite individual who\\nkeeps the office, and who would, doubtless, have enlightened\\none that is, have told me which way to turn, and the names of\\nthe streets. But it would all have been so much Sanscrit to me;\\nand, besides, who would display the least sentiment before\\nstrangers\\nSo I sauntered out, upon my own bent, toward the French\\ntown. There I saw, by and by, a black girl with a basket of\\nflowers upon her head dahlias, japonicas, and the pale, sweet\\nChickasaw rose. New Orleans is the greatest place for green-\\nhouses I ever saw: you find them scattered along the most public\\nstreets, enlivening the very air with their beauty and fragrance.\\nThere was a large one above the St. Charles, at the opposite cor-\\nner of Gravier street, and another on a small street, at the other\\nside of the hotel, right beneath my window.\\nBut I have lost my story almost, and my guide as well. I\\nhad followed her at some distance, thinking she was bound for the\\ncemetery, until she turned aside into a narrow lane and entered\\na house. Here I was quite at a loss, and with no one to ask\\nfor everybody around me was talking French in furious style,\\nand, really, I could not recall any phrase of that language to\\nexpress my wishes. Luckily, however, the girl reappeared, and\\nwith her came out two ladies, one quite youthful and the other\\naged, both dressed in deep mourning, with black vails over their\\nfaces.", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "10 JThe Bag of ^U Saints\\nI followed at a respectful distance, trying to behave as if I did\\nnot notice them, and was only lounging along the street. They\\nwent a great way, turned up many avenues, stopped at several\\ndoors but finally they came in sight of an old church the\\nMortuary Chapel, as I afterward learned, at the junction of Rue\\ndes Remparts and Rue deConti. A few more steps brought us\\nto the Cemetery of St. Louis, a square inclosed by a low wall\\nof brick. There was quite a number of people, men and boys,\\nprincipally negroes, collected around the entrance and I hesi-\\ntated a moment whether I might be allowed to go in. But I\\nmade bold and entered, nobody interposing the least objection.\\nI can not describe the cemetery so as to give any one much\\nidea of it. They never bury the dead in New Orleans the soil\\nis damp and miry, and the graves would fill with water. So\\nthey build tombs of brick upon the surface of the earth, to the\\nhighth of three or four feet, or more, with a hole in the side for\\nthe coffin to be inserted. This is then closed by a marble or\\nstone slab containing the epitaph. The tomb is covered with\\nplaster on the outside, and painted blue, with specks of white\\nand black, much the color of chimney jams I have sometimes\\nseen. Above the slab there is often a small black mantel-piece,\\nand below, in front, there is a paved space, like a hearth some-\\nwhat, and stained red. At the sides of this there are little\\nparterres, some filled with growing plants, some with a single\\nbox-tree in the center, and set off with white shells. Around", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "^t ^t m (Orleans. ii\\nthe whole a railing is generally erected to keep off impious\\nhands.\\nIn some parts of the cemetery the tombs were already decked.\\nFlowers and leaves were strewn upon the top and upon the\\nhearth in front. On the mantel-pieces were vases full of\\nbouquets, and sometimes pots of rare plants. Beautiful dahlias,\\nrudely plucked from their nourishing stems by the hand of affec-\\ntion, were stuck into the strange earth around. Splendid can-\\ndelabras stood upon the hearth, decorated with paper fantastically\\ncut, holding up long wax tapers of various colors. I looked\\nabout me with a sad pleasure. The grave, thought I, has lost\\nits terrors it is but to lie down and sleep upon a bed of roses.\\nAffection is not quenched when the chill of death invades those\\nmost dear to us. Their tender memories revive with the new\\nbirth of the flowers their faces and their forms revisit our long-\\ning eyes their low words charm again our ears as when life was\\nonce made sweet to us by their presence. Love is the con-\\nqueror of Fate itself:\\nLove is not love,\\nWhich alters vv hen it alteration finds,\\nOr bends with the remover to remove\\nOh, no It is an ever-fixed mark.\\nThat looks on tempests, and is never shaken.\\nIt is the star to every wandering bark,\\nWhose worth s unknown, although his height be taken.", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "12 ^Tiie Bag of ^U SaCnts\\nLove s not Time s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks\\nWithin his bending sickle s compass come;\\nLove alters not with his brief hours and vi eeks,\\nBut bears it out even to the edge of doom.\\nAnd when we shall have fretted our brief lives away, let there\\nbe steps which will kindly seek out our last homes, and hands\\nwhich will sacrifice to us the flowers, as often as spring returns,\\nor summer fades into autumn.\\nOther parts of the cemetery were thronged with workmen\\nrepairing the plaster upon the tombs from the ravages of time\\nand weather some painting them again, or furbishing up the\\ninscriptions. There were, also, troops of quadroon girls and\\nancient negresses, arranging wreaths and long trailing festoons\\nof flowers, and hanging over the epitaphs beautiful lace vails. I\\nobserved these marks of tender and affectionate respect with\\nemotions which I need not express.\\nAnother part of the cemetery contained some very old tombs\\nwith quaint French inscriptions the tombs of those who were\\ndistinguished citizens before Louisiana was purchased by the\\nUnited States. Some had been rent asunder by trees growing\\nclose beside them others appeared to have been repaired and\\ndecked, year after year, until those who attended them had\\ndropped off to death, and become the subjects of the same holy\\noffice which they had so long administered. These were mostly\\nmoldering into piles of rubbish, and soon would be indistin-", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "at iaeto \u00c2\u00a9rlcans. 13\\nguishable from the dust around. Some, however, and very old\\nones, were still adorned by the hands of grateful and affectionate\\ndescendants.\\nI next took a view of the catacombs, which are rows of sepul-\\nture running all along the sides of the cemetery. There are\\nthree tiers in each, and the dead are divided one from another by\\nslight partitions of brick. Of course, the catacombs are for poor\\npeople ;and those which I saw were crowded. The only space for\\nan epitaph is about two feet square it is upon the slab which\\ncovers the opening to admit the coffin. Many of these places of\\nrest were decorated with small mantel-pieces and hearths, and\\nstrewn in front by leaves and flowers. Others had squares of\\npainted board merely to close the cells, and rough inscriptions\\ncarved upon them. Still others were walled up with brick, and\\nthere was nothing to tell who moldered within. These, said I,\\nare the last homes of the poor and the stranger while my pulse\\nthrobbed at the thought that I, too, might find such a place to lay\\nmy failing frame, far from the scenes of childhood, an adventurer\\nin the great city of the South. Behind me were the tombs of\\nthose who had walked in high places the generals, the gover-\\nnors, the important men of provincial Louisiana men sent over\\nfrom France to exercise authority, and at last interred with\\npomp and honor. As I turned once more to view them, a sol-\\nitary chamelion, which had crawled upon one to bask in the sun,\\nshot suddenly from my gaze into a crevice of it. Yes, noble", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "14 m\\\\t \u00c2\u00aeas fit ^11 Safnts\\nand puissant men, ye too must die The earth, which your\\nproud feet almost scorned to touch, shall receive your molder-\\ning dust to itself again. And by thy side, Right Royal Governor\\nand Judge, the poor beggar who sat at thy gate for charity shall\\nsleep the self-same sleep with thee. The worm shall eat thy\\ndainty corpse as well as his thin flesh, and the lizard which inhab-\\nits his tomb shall likewise gambol over thy bones. And thou,\\nlone stranger, who camest to this metropolis to seek thy fortune,\\nand found that fortune a grave, rest thee well here They heed\\nthee not, nor honor thy name, but they the teeming thousands\\nwhose loud hum I hear now they shall come to hold compan-\\nionship with thee\\nAs the long train\\nOf ages glide away, the sons of men,\\nThe youth in life s green spring, and he who goes\\nIn the full strength of years matron and maid,\\nAnd the sweet babe, and the gray-headed man\\nShall, one by one, be gathered to thy side\\nBy those who, in their turn, shall follow them.\\nMy heart was full to bursting. I retraced my steps toward\\nthe entrance. There was now a table just inside the gateway,\\nand a silver plate upon it, above which was a placard, \u00e2\u0096\u00a0^Souvenez\\nvous les pauvres enfans qui riavaient pere que D teu^ or something\\nto that effect. The little orphans were standing in groups about\\nthe neighborhood, and, with the usual attendance of negroes,", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "^t Jleto #rlfans. 15\\nmade up the crowd I had at first noticed. I was in no mood to\\nslight the request, especially as the plate was almost bare. As\\nI passed, therefore, I dropped into it my largest coin. A priest\\nof mild and benevolent aspect, who sat in the gate, looked up\\nwith some surprise but I pulled my hat down over my eyes and\\nwalked hastily away.\\nMany of the epitaphs in this cemetery were extremely pathetic\\nand beautiful. But the most tender was that of a young girl\\nwhose tomb was in the row of catacombs alonp; the back wall.\\nIt gave her name, the dates of her birth and death she was only\\nseventeen and, beneath, these words\\nMa Pauvre Fille!\\nI never saw anything more felicitous. There is one in the\\nProtestant cemetery (I do not remember which row of the cata-\\ncombs) much like it\\nMy Brother\\nWilliain.\\nNear the first is another name recorded, full of different instruc-\\ntion\\nVictime de I honneur!\\nJet. 24.", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "16 JThe 2ia\u00c2\u00bb of ^11 Safnts\\nAbout two months after I had left New Orleans, a young\\ngentleman (whose acquaintance I had made before this visit) of\\nfine abilities and education, and great personal beauty, just rising\\nto public notice at the bar, accepted a challenge to the duel, and\\nwas killed Victim of honor. He, too, was about twenty-\\nfour.\\nI returned to the St. Charles. That day, and the next one, and\\nthe next, I wandered through the streets of New Orleans, and\\nsaw many strange and beautiful objects before I started home\\nbut the memory which dwells most sacredly in my remembrance,\\nand keeps the greenest corner of my heart, is that brief sojourn\\nin the Cemetery of St. Louis.", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3143", "width": "2115", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS\\n014 544 951", "height": "3169", "width": "2292", "jp2-path": "dayofallsaints00pugh_0018.jp2"}}