plebeian blood, who, from a proud bearing and imperious manner, was nicknamed "Louis Quatorze;" a republican by instinct, who was an aristocrat by taste. By nature strong, ambitious, eloquent, he was possessed of a fever of unrest better suited to a lawless adventurer than to the

sworn officer of the law. Hating intrigue, he was a believer in audacity, as Danton, thirty years later, was to interpret it; an agitator with a conscience, he was a political iconoclast with a faith; in short, he was a natural leader of men, as reasonably sure to explode a crisis in unsettled times as to meet its triumphs or its penalties with dignity. Next to him. came Foucault, the King's Intendant Commissary, a creature of a different

stripe; of an intellect keen, snaky, insincere; loving nothing so much as to have his hand in intrigue, yet always trembling as he put it in; in his heart an egotist, capable of intense though always subtle energy in building a revolutionary wall, so long as the work might be safe, yet equally capable of prompt denial of having built it should he find it toppling. Masan, a wealthy planter, and a Knight of St. Louis, was an ex-captain of infantry. Marquis, captain in the Swiss troops in the service of France, was a dreamer bred in the school from which was to spring the Helvetic Republic; a brave man, a trifle heady, therefore of large aims beyond his age, preferring rather to look at a public question from its fantastic angle; hence, a fervent believer in a republic for Louisiana and a free port for New Orleans. Noyan and Bienville, nephews of Bienville, were representatives of the army and navy-both ardent natures with a simple faith in each other, and loyal to the colony their uncle had founded. A useful man was Doucet, a distinguished lawyer, a Frenchman even in his law, patriotically inclined to judicial bigotry, and making light of that boast of Spanish colonial jurisprudence, Las Recopilaciones de las Leyes. Jean Milhet was an honored relic of the first embassy-destined, in the hurly-burly of an unexpected insurrection, to have his name stand for posterity on a pedestal wholly uncommercial. The mercantile interest itself was more directly represented by Joseph Milhet (Jean's brother), by Caresse, Poupet, and Petit. From outside of New Orleans came Joseph Villeré, highly respected throughout the colony, Lafrénière's brother-in-law, and captain of the German militia on the Golden Coast; and Hardy de Boisbalnc, then a planter, but formerly a member of the Superior Council.

After Ulloa's departure, the position of these men became perilous. They could not doubt that the community was in full accord with them. Of its sympathy, the proofs came to them from day to day. But mere accord is not co-responsibility. Leaders living on a hill must suffer for their elevation. When Governor D'Abbadie read that sorrowful letter which announced the cession, Lafrénière and his friends believed in it, and were prepared to accept it. But when Ulloa, after nearly three years of loitering, came to represent the new authority, and failed to do so, they lost all faith in the reality of the cession. In the November following the expulsion, one memorial and two letters left New Orleans. All were addressed to the Minister Duke de Praslin. The memorial was from the Superior Council, affirming its position, and begging for its action the support of the minister. One letter was from Foucault to the duke, in which he strove, as was his way, to carry water on both shoulders. The other was from Aubry, giving posterity a clearer light into the private thoughts

and their effects, from the colony which had ceased to be a home. They 321 chose, as delegates to make known this self-expatriation to the Spanish General, Lafrénière, Marquis and the younger Milhet. letter from Aubry, at whose house they had on the eve of departure dined Armed with a with the Spanish officials, and mightily cheered by this social meeting which, in the clink of friendly glasses, breathed of peace, the delegates left for the Belize. On reaching there, all signs were auspicious. It was Bouligny, the envoy, who, a pleasant companion on the trip, did the honors of introduction. Lafrénière spoke for the delegates with moderation. They were instructed, he said, to assure His Excellency "of their submission to the orders of their Catholic and most Christian Majesties, and of their veneration for the virtues and military talents which had raised him to the eminent powers with which he was clothed." Complimentary

here, he was frank enough, in justifying the revolution, to ascribe it alone to "Ulloa's harshness and subversion of the privileges guaranteed by the act of cession." He was still franker when he referred to "the orders of which His Excellency was the bearer, as sufficient to put him in possession." He was an advocate whose client was a revolution-a revolution which would never have been begun had Ulloa exhibited his powers. He ended by reminding the general, while begging him "not to consider Louisiana as a conquered country," of the claims of the colonists that those who might choose to emigrate should be allowed to do so. O'Reilly listened to this harangue without interrupting it, "with the gravity and the dignity due to his position." "I shall be the first," he said, “to use all means to tranquilize the people, and you may assure them of the good dispositions which are natural to my own character." He saw pleasure the frank submisson of the colonists. Had this not been so, he "with would have made the flag of his king respected "against the clamors of a seditious people, and would have ascended the river as high as the Illinois, if necessary, for punishment." Here Marquis--always rash—jumping to his feet, protested hotly against the word "seditious." Nothing could have been more courtly than the general's "At the proper time, sirs, I shall with pleasure listen to your arguments." thing be more hospitable than the invitation to dinner which followed, or Nor could anyhis graciousness as a host. Thus, twice dined and wined, the delegation believed that Spain had forgiven; and believing, returned light-hearted.

In the eighteenth century, Spain, losing power, found it hard to forgive. On the morning of August 17, 1769, the whole Spanish fleet lay anchored in front of New Orleans. It was a spectacle of power, not again to visit the town, until a century later, when blue jackets, under a

VOL XVI.-No. 4-22.

This arrival was, in itself, a threat which, throwing the town into new fright, provoked a passing spirit of resistance. Messengers rode post haste with the news along the coast. These were but the dead ashes of a fire that had been kindled on the delusion that France had relented and that Spain had grown weary.

The next day set all doubt at rest. A Spanish officer, Don Francisco Bouligny, landed on the levee. He brought a message from Don Alexander O'Reilly, the commander of the forces of Spain, to Aubry. The contrast between the first messenger of Ulloa and O'Reilly could not be more sharply emphasized. Ulloa, who had not come to stay, first ignored Aubry and favored the council: O'Reilly, who had come to stay, ignored the council and favored Aubry. Shortly after the receipt of the news, Lafrénière and the more sober of his colleagues were closeted with Aubry. The noisier spirits were abroad on the public square. Marquis, with dreams full of Morgarten, was there, parading with a white cockade, at the head of a hundred men as wild as himself. There too was Petit flaunting a pair of pistols, and threatening to blow out the brains of every coward who would not join him. This defiance by Marquis and Petit, if pathetic, was useless. The townsmen had turned as wise as those who were consulting with Aubry. Having given up the fight, they took to mourning their disappointment within doors; and before midnight, the last white cockade, as a living symbol, was put by forever in Louisiana. This was a rare opportunity for the display of Aubry's versatility. On the next day, he summoned the people to meet him on the Place d'Armes. Surrounded by a Spanish guard, composed of the new envoy and the old Spanish officers who had remained after Ulloa's departure, this ex-French governor was in a high state of Franco-Spanish exaltation. He lauded the union between their Majesties of France and Spain, dwelling tenderly on the known clemency which marked the latter. He praised the new Chief O'Reilly, and referred to his great military qualities. He exhorted, in the name of the King-presumably Louis-prompt submission to the new authority; and dismissed the assembly filled with sorrow for the France which, through her representative, had forsaken them. With Lafrénière and the other leaders, he was full of advice. He counseled them to be quiet and to join their influence with his to allay the popular excitement. He still kept on his French mask. Later on was to be the time to take it off, when the lives of Frenchmen were on the Spanish weights.

All this time, the citizens, ceasing to stir themselves, had formed a heroic resolve. They would no longer stay in the country. All they asked would be two years within which to remove themselves, their children

and their effects, from the colony which had ceased to be a home. They chose, as delegates to make known this self-expatriation to the Spanish General, Lafrénière, Marquis and the younger Milhet. Armed with a letter from Aubry, at whose house they had on the eve of departure dined with the Spanish officials, and mightily cheered by this social meeting which, in the clink of friendly glasses, breathed of peace, the delegates left for the Belize. On reaching there, all signs were auspicious. It was Bouligny, the envoy, who, a pleasant companion on the trip, did the honors of introduction. Lafrénière spoke for the delegates with moderation. They were instructed, he said, to assure His Excellency" of their submission to the orders of their Catholic and most Christian Majesties, and of their veneration for the virtues and military talents which had raised him to the eminent powers with which he was clothed." Complimentary here, he was frank enough, in justifying the revolution, to ascribe it alone to "Ulloa's harshness and subversion of the privileges guaranteed by the act of cession." He was still franker when he referred to "the orders of which His Excellency was the bearer, as sufficient to put him in possession." He was an advocate whose client was a revolution-a revolution which would never have been begun had Ulloa exhibited his powers. He ended by reminding the general, while begging him "not to consider Louisiana as a conquered country," of the claims of the colonists that those who might choose to emigrate should be allowed to do so. O'Reilly listened to this harangue without interrupting it, "with the gravity and the dignity due to his position." "I shall be the first," he said, “to use all means to tranquilize the people, and you may assure them of the good dispositions which are natural to my own character." He saw "with pleasure the frank submisson of the colonists. Had this not been so, he would have made the flag of his king respected "against the clamors of a seditious people, and would have ascended the river as high as the Illinois, if necessary, for punishment." Here Marquis--always rash—jumping to his feet, protested hotly against the word "seditious." Nothing could have been more courtly than the general's "At the proper time, sirs, I shall with pleasure listen to your arguments." Nor could anything be more hospitable than the invitation to dinner which followed, or his graciousness as a host. Thus, twice dined and wined, the delegation believed that Spain had forgiven; and believing, returned light-hearted.

In the eighteenth century, Spain, losing power, found it hard to forgive. On the morning of August 17, 1769, the whole Spanish fleet lay anchored in front of New Orleans. It was a spectacle of power, not again to visit the town, until a century later, when blue jackets, under a

VOL XVI.-No. 4 -22.