The greater part of this crowd had been living in tents round the inclosure, and laid the foundations of a town which has since been called “Ardan’s Town.”  The ground bristled with huts, cabins, and tents, and these ephemeral habitations sheltered a population numerous enough to rival the largest cities of Europe.

Every nation upon earth was represented; every language was spoken at the same time.  It was like the confusion of tongues at the Tower of Babel.  There the different classes of American society mixed in absolute equality.  Bankers, cultivators, sailors, agents, merchants, cotton-planters, and magistrates elbowed each other with primitive ease.  The creoles of Louisiana fraternised with the farmers of Indiana; the gentlemen of Kentucky and Tennessee, the elegant and haughty Virginians, joked with the half-savage trappers of the Lakes and the butchers of Cincinnati.  They appeared in broad-brimmed white beavers and Panamas, blue cotton trousers, from the Opelousa manufactories, draped in elegant blouses of ecru cloth, in boots of brilliant colours, and extravagant shirt-frills; upon shirt-fronts, cuffs, cravats, on their ten fingers, even in their ears, an assortment of rings, pins, diamonds, chains, buckles, and trinkets, the cost of which equalled the bad taste.  Wife, children, servants, in no less rich dress, accompanied, followed, preceded, and surrounded their husbands, fathers, and masters, who resembled the patriarchs amidst their innumerable families.

At meal-times it was a sight to see all these people devour the dishes peculiar to the Southern States, and eat, with an appetite menacing to the provisioning of Florida, the food that would be repugnant to a European stomach, such as fricasseed frogs, monkey-flesh, fish-chowder, underdone opossum, and raccoon steaks.

The liquors that accompanied this indigestible food were numerous.  Shouts and vociferations to buy resounded through the bar-rooms or taverns, decorated with glasses, tankards, decanters, and bottles of marvellous shapes, mortars for pounding sugar, and bundles of straws.

“Mint-julep!” roars out one of the salesmen.

“Claret sangaree!” shouts another through his nose.

“Gin-sling!” shouts one.

“Cocktail!  Brandy-smash!” cries another.

“Who’ll buy real mint-julep in the latest style?” shouted these skilful salesmen, rapidly passing from one glass to another the sugar, lemon, green mint, crushed ice, water, cognac, and fresh pine-apple which compose this refreshing drink.

Generally these sounds, addressed to throats made thirsty by the spices they consumed, mingled into one deafening roar.  But on this 1st of December these cries were rare.  No one thought of eating and drinking, and at 4 p.m. there were many spectators in the crowd who had not taken their customary lunch!  A much more significant fact, even the national passion for gaming was allayed by the general emotion.  Thimbles, skittles, and cards were left in their wrappings, and testified that the great event of the day absorbed all attention.