James H. Caldwell was an Englishman, and by profession a comedian.  It was he who first brought a theatrical company to the West.  He had built the first theatres in Cincinnati, St. Louis, and New Orleans, and first created a taste for theatricals in the great West.  Possessing fine natural abilities, and wonderful enterprise, he pushed his fortunes, as a theatrical manager, successfully for a number of years.  He built the Camp Street Theatre, and made it exceedingly profitable.  Away back, forty-five years ago, I remember my first meeting with him at Vicksburg, then a little hamlet, with but few houses and many hills, abrupt, and ugly.  He and his company were descending to Natchez, and thence, after a short season, to New Orleans.  Edwin Forrest, then a youth, was one of his company, which also included Russell and wife, Sol.  Smith and brother, with their wives, Mrs. Rose Crampton, and, as a star, Junius Brutus Booth.  How wild was the scene around us!  The river was low and sluggish; the boat small and dirty; the captain ignorant and surly; the company full of life, wit, and humor.  Slowly we labored on.  The dense forest came frowning to the river’s brink, with only here and there, at long intervals, an opening, where some adventurous pioneer had cut and burned the cane, and built his shanty.  The time was whiled away with song, recitation, anecdotes, and laughter, until midnight brought us to Natchez.  It was a terrible night—­dark, and beginning to rain.  Under the hill at Natchez, forty-five years ago, was a terrible place.  The road up the bluff was precipitous and muddy.  There were no accommodations for decent people under the hill.  The dance-houses were in full blast.  Boisterous and obscene mirth rang from them; men and women were drunk; some were singing obscene songs; some were shouting profanity in every disgusting term; some, overcome with debauchery, were insensible to shame, and men and women, rushing from house to house, gathered a crowd to meet us as we landed.  One tremendous slattern shouted, as she saw us come on shore:  “There are the show-folks; now we’ll have fun!” If Mrs. Farren—­the daughter of Russell—­still lives, I will say to her that this was her advent to Natchez.  Up that hill, through mire and rain, I bore her in my arms, on that terrible night.  Caldwell alone was cheerful; Sol.  Smith joked, and Russell swore.

  “How many, many memories
  Sweep o’er my spirit now!”

It was a peculiarity of James H. Caldwell to do whatever he did with all his might.  No obstacle seemed to deter or impede the execution of any public or individual enterprise of his.  Beside being a splendid performer, he was an accomplished gentleman, and a fine, classic scholar.  His reading was select and extensive.  At a very early day, he was impressed with the future importance of New Orleans as a commercial city, and commenced to identify himself with the American population, and to make this his future home.