Bienville himself piloted the first royal vessel of provisions and immigrants through the mouth of the river, and made the first landing at the levee bank, crowded to-day with commerce and shipping. Finally, in 1723, Bienville removed thither all the government offices and stores, and made New Orleans the capital of the colony. In a year, the city was in full tide of progress, and attaining its majority as a city among the oldest cities of the continent. History and romance carry on the chronicle of its life, for it is a place whose history has become romance, romance history, in our literature. The neat little square checker-board prepared by Bienville’s engineers, has grown out of all regularity of proportion; unwieldy and awkward enough it is now upon paper, with its streets that vainly strive to run straight, as they follow the bend of the river, or “Crescent” as it is called. But the first map still represents the centre, the heart of the city, the source of its tradition and sentiment. And to the children of the city--or, we should say, the descendants of the children of the first-born of the city, there has been no change in this “mother” spot, save that of harmonious growth and age;--at least so they think in tender reverence as they saunter through the old thoroughfares with the high-sounding names. [Illustration: CHARTRES STREET AND CATHEDRAL.] The _place d’armes_ has become Jackson Square; the public market, the French market; the parish church, the Cathedral; the Ursulines Convent, the Archbishopric; the cemetery is now the old St. Louis--beyond Rampart Street, instead of outside the Ramparts, as it used to be called. The _vieu carré_--as the original city is affectionately called--has suffered its share of the vicissitudes of cities. More than once, tornadoes and fires have swept whole quarters of it bare of dwellings. Epidemics of yellow fever--then as now said to be brought in from Havana--decimated the inhabitants at recurrent intervals; while the river ever and anon rose up and overflowed its banks, producing a steady crop of domestic fevers. But the gay-hearted inhabitants--then, even as now--seemed to draw from their misfortunes only zest for greater energy of work and greater pleasure in life. [Illustration: THE URSULINES CONVENT.] Every ship that arrived brought accessions to the population--accessions, not immigrants, and therefore reckoned by quality, not quantity. Gay sprigs of the nobility were sent out to “la Nouvelle Orleans” to mend their morals; thrifty ones, to mend their fortunes; ambitious sons of the bourgeoisie came seeking opportunity for acquiring landed estate; old officers remained when their terms of service expired; new officers willingly grew into old ones in a place so near akin in society and elegance to Paris. For Paris was the arbiter and model of New Orleans, and never had the great city by the Seine an apter pupil than the little city by the Mississippi.