Review over, Admiral Cockrane in the van with the _Tonnant_, the fleet sails out of Negril Bay for Louisiana. As the General's horse cools his weary muzzle in the Mississippi, the English fleet has been two days on its course. It is a dull, lowering December morning when the General, on his great war stallion, following the Bayou road, rides into New Orleans. He finds the city in a tumult, and nothing afoot for its defense. He is received by Governor Claiborne, a stately Virginian, and Mayor Girod, plump and little and gray and French, with a delegation of citizens. Among the latter is one whom the General recognizes. He is Edward Livingston, aforetime of New York, and the General's dearest friend in those old Philadelphia Congressional days. The General gives the Livingston hand a squeeze and says: “It's like medicine in wine, Ned, to see you at such a time as this.” Governor Claiborne makes a speech in English, Mayor Girod makes a speech in French-leading citizens make speeches in English, Spanish, and French. The speeches are fiery, but inconclusive. All are excited, confused, ani without a plan. The General replies in little more than a word: “I have come to defend your city,” says he: “and I shall defend it or find a grave among you.” Following this ultimatum, the General goes to dinner with Mr. Livingston. Governor Claiborne, Mayor Girod, and the leading citizens remain behind to talk the General over in their several tongues. They are disappointed, it seems. There be those who wish he hadn't come. Among them is the Speaker of the Territorial House of Representatives--A French creole of anti-American sentiments. “His presence will prove a calamity!” cries this legislative person. “He seems to me to be a desperado, who will make war like a savage and bring destruction and fire on our city and the neighboring plantations.” There is no retort to this, for the local spirit of treason is widespread. While the citizens of New Orleans are discussing the General, he with his friend Livingston is discussing them. “What is the state of affairs here, Ned?” asks the General. “It could not be worse,” is the reply. “All is confusion, contradiction, and cross-purposes. The whole city seems to be walking in a circle.” “We'll see, Ned,” returns the General grimly, “if we can't make it walk in a straight line.” Commodore Patterson comes to call on the General. He is one who says little and looks a deal--precisely a gentleman after the General's own heart, for while he himself likes to talk, he prefers silence in others. Commodore Patterson sets forth the naval defenses of the town. An enemy entering from the sea must come by way of Lake Borgne, and there are six baby gunboats on Lake Borgne. The flotilla is commanded by Lieutenant Jones, who is Welsh and therefore obstinate; he will fight to the final gasp. The General beams approval of Lieutenant Jones, who he thinks has a right notion of war.