NOLA Trip: The Destrehan Plantation
We're getting closer to the finish line. Only about four posts to go. Or two. Honestly, given how long this trip log has been taking, I'm wondering if I should just stop once I finish the New Orleans stuff.
We'll see.
For now, let's recap what happened so far.
I admit that I was looking forward to it almost as much as seeing the French Quarter. Like most Midwestern states, Illinois never had slavery (with one notable exception). But in Louisiana, it was part of a day-to-day reality until 1863. Because the state was originally a French colony, slaves and freedmen were treated somewhat differently than they were in other slave states. But while freedmen were better off than they were in other slave states, same couldn't quite be said for slaves themselves.
Growing up in Russia, I've read a lot about what slavery was like in America, and how it was similar and different from serfdom in the Russian Empire (where, by the way, it was only abolished in 1861). I think most Russians, at the very least, read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. So there is... I would hesitate to call it "fascination" because that implies that it has any appeal, but there is definitely interest.
For the first time in my 17 years in this country, I would get to see something I've been reading about since childhood. I would see an actual, real-life plantation, one that used to house actual, real-life slaves. The prospect of it filled me with both curiosity and dread.
There are several plantation museums in Louisiana, but only one anywhere near the New Orleans metropolitan area - the Destrehan Plantation.
And it wasn't just any plantation. During my visit to the museum, I learned that the Destrehan family played an important role in Louisiana's transition from a French colony to a US territory, and then into a full-fledged state. Jean Noel Destrehan, the second owner of the plantation, played a pivotal role in crafting Louisiana laws. As he head of the Orleans Territorial Council, he was a major reason why Louisiana is divided into parishes rather than counties, and why the state laws (at least initially) were based around French and Spanish legal systems. The document that established the council is stored inside the plantation mansion, in a climate-controlled room where, alas, photography wasn't allowed under any circumstances.
The Destrehan Plantation is notable for another reason. It was a filming location for the Interview with the Vampire and, more recently, 12 Years a Slave.
The museum is made up of the mansion, some surviving slave cabins and a few other structures. The tour started inside a ticket office/gift shop. Angie and I got the guided tour of the mansion, and after that, we were free to check out other parts that were open to the public. The tour guides wore period costumes, but they didn't try to act period - though our tour guide often shifted to present tense when describing what different portions of the house were in different time periods.
The tour was, really, part family history and part history of the house itself. Our tour guide explained how the house was expanded and remodeled, how Greek Revival features were added to the original French design. He talked about the three generations of Destrehans that lived that, and what life in the house was like at the time.
Because we weren't allowed to use flash photography, only some of the pictures turned out okay. That means that, unfortunately, the gallery does have some gaps.
The original mansion kitchen
Which doubled as a children's dining room
The adult dining room (the guy in the stovepipe hat is our tour guide)
A study that belonged to the third owner of the plantation - Stephen Henderson, Jean Destrehan's son-in-law. INterestingly, he wanted his slaves to be freed upon his death, but the Destrehan's got his will thrown out.
A common area
A living room
A bathroom
The bedroom belonging to the mistress of the house (which is to say, the wife of a plantation owner). The little bed you see at the foot of the bed was, according to our tour guide, a place where the mistress took naps. Using the actual bed was considered bad form, since the house slave worked hard to make the bed in the morning.
So yes, you could own people, but God forbid you take their work for granted.
The men's parlour
And the mansion's gorgeous veranda
The mansion used to have two water towers. What I didn't realize (until Angie pointed it out) was that they were cleverly re-appropriated during the restoration process. One tower was turned into a wheelchair elevator - which was really the only way to include that feature without compromising the building's historical interiors.
And the other was turned into a restroom
The tour guide struck an interesting tone. While his tour was a story of the Desterhan family, he repeatedly talked about the slaves who worked in the house and helped raise the kids. He also pointed out that dividing lines of the Louisiana race-based slave society weren't always clear cut. The mansion was built by Charles Pacquet, a half-black carpenter, who was paid for his work with combination of money, grain and "one brute negro."
Which brings us to the non-guided part of the tour.
The Destrehan plantation originally specialized in indigo dyes, but like most other area plantations, it soon shifted to sugar cane. While the majority of the slaves worked in the field or in the house, other slaves did other work, serving as blacksmiths, candlemakers, rope makers, weavers and barrel makers.
The museum holds regular demonstrations of the crafts the slaves used to do. While the reenactors follow period techniques, they are not necessarily black. We didn't stick around to see the demonstration that was scheduled on that day, but I did get some shots of the museum's demonstration area.
This is where they demonstrate how to make bousillage - the mixture of clay and grass used to fill in space between boards in Louisiana mansions like this one.
And this is where you'd get a look at how the indigo dyes were made.
The slaves lived in cabins like these ones.
This is what the common kitchen/dining area looked like on the inside.
The museum grounds had some other structures those purpose seems pretty self-explanatory.
But perhaps the most interesting part of the museum ground - other than the mansion - was the former overseer's house (Side note - at the Destrehan plantation, overseers were slaves, which must have made for an... interesting dynamic)
The museum turned most of the building into an exhibit on the 1811 German Coast Uprising - the biggest slave rebellion in United States history. Partially inspired by the then-recent successful Haiti revolution, the slaves in the plantations further west along the Mississippi took advantage of the lull in field work and rose up. They marched onto New Orleans, freeing slaves in all the plantations they passed through - including Destrehan Plantation.
The rebellion was crushed before they reached the city. The survivors were tried at Destrehan Plantation and at New Orleans by parish courts made up of plantation owners (Jean Destrehan recused himself). When describing what happened to the ones that were tried at the plantation, he exhibit is short and to the point
If you are wondering about the "missing" part, they could've slipped away and hid out in the swamps, the way many slaves that escaped from the area plantations did. Or it could be that local militias captured and killed them. We may never know.
The exhibit doesn't mention that the executed slaves' heads were put on pikes as a way to deter any further rebellions. But the exhibit does mention that the uprising added fuel to both sides of the growing debate over slavery. Louisiana legislature tightened restrictions against slaves and freemen, while abolitionists used it as evidence that slavery was cruel and unjust.
As I looked through the exhibit, I couldn't help but wonder. What if the German Coast uprising was larger and more successful? What if Louisiana - or at least a portion of it - became a nation of freed slaves, the way Haiti did. It would've had to be a much larger rebellion in order to stand any kind of chance, but still. As someone who's always been a fan of alternative histories, the possibility alone is pretty intriguing.
Like I said, the Destrehan Plantation would continue to use slaves until the end of the American Civil War. During the Reconstruction, it became one of the Freedmen Bureau colonies, where freed slaves were able to work (for money) and get educational and medical assistance. As the Reconstruction would down, the Destrehans got the plantation back, but it was a different world now. The family sold the plantation to the Mexican Petroleum Company, which would eventually become part of the American Oil Company. Amoco was only interested in the land for the oil that was buried underneath, so it had no qualms about removing any historical structures that got in the way. It did maintain the mansion to a certain extent, but once the well ran dry, they didn't even bother to do that.
in 1971, Amoco donated the property to the River Road Historical Society, which restored or recreated pretty much everything you saw in this post. It's a still-ongoing process, as the society continues to work to expand the museum.
Not far from the entrance, there's a plaque commemorating the donation.
"Yeah, after they ruined it," Angie snarked as we read it.
I should also mention that the plantation has some truly impressive trees, like the Spanish Moss...
...and the enormous oaks with branches that spread out and reach down to the ground, like tentacles.
Back when Destrehans first moved here, they could see the Mississippi River from their veranda. But, since then, levies were built to keep the flood water at bay.
I've never actually seen a levy up close before. So, before Angie and I headed back to Metairie, I asked if we could check it out.
I was surprised to discover that there was a bike trail running atop of the levy.
But when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense. It's a long embankment that runs for miles without any interruptions, and it gives you a great vantage point.
Bike trails are less common in southeastern Louisiana than they are in Chicagoland. The issue of Times-Picayune Angie brought me last year during FailCon had a front-page article about a proposed bike trail in the parish where she lived, and what struck me most about it is how everyone treated it as a strange, new phenomenon. Yet, according to Angie, the levy bike trails were well-used - and, much to her annoyance, bike riders don't seem to particularly care about pedestrians that walk along the trail.
So yes, fellow Chicagoans - it's kind of like Lake Shore Drive trail :)
After a stop atop of a levy, Angie and I headed back to Metairie. She and Jak invited a bunch of their friends for a party, asking each of them to bring some New Orleans specific food thing. The plan was to spend the rest of the day eating, chatting and playing board games.
But, as it's often been the case during the trip, things didn't quite work about this way.
We'll see.
For now, let's recap what happened so far.
- March 19 - I leave Chicago to visit phoenix_anew and jaklocke in New Orleans area
- March 20 - I arrive in New Orleans, and Jack and Angie show me some interesting things in the Metairie, a New Orleans suburb where they live
- March 21 - I see the New Orleans' historical cemetaries and a surprisingly interesting local library, explore Angie's neighborhood a little and watch Jak's band perform
I admit that I was looking forward to it almost as much as seeing the French Quarter. Like most Midwestern states, Illinois never had slavery (with one notable exception). But in Louisiana, it was part of a day-to-day reality until 1863. Because the state was originally a French colony, slaves and freedmen were treated somewhat differently than they were in other slave states. But while freedmen were better off than they were in other slave states, same couldn't quite be said for slaves themselves.
Growing up in Russia, I've read a lot about what slavery was like in America, and how it was similar and different from serfdom in the Russian Empire (where, by the way, it was only abolished in 1861). I think most Russians, at the very least, read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. So there is... I would hesitate to call it "fascination" because that implies that it has any appeal, but there is definitely interest.
For the first time in my 17 years in this country, I would get to see something I've been reading about since childhood. I would see an actual, real-life plantation, one that used to house actual, real-life slaves. The prospect of it filled me with both curiosity and dread.
There are several plantation museums in Louisiana, but only one anywhere near the New Orleans metropolitan area - the Destrehan Plantation.
And it wasn't just any plantation. During my visit to the museum, I learned that the Destrehan family played an important role in Louisiana's transition from a French colony to a US territory, and then into a full-fledged state. Jean Noel Destrehan, the second owner of the plantation, played a pivotal role in crafting Louisiana laws. As he head of the Orleans Territorial Council, he was a major reason why Louisiana is divided into parishes rather than counties, and why the state laws (at least initially) were based around French and Spanish legal systems. The document that established the council is stored inside the plantation mansion, in a climate-controlled room where, alas, photography wasn't allowed under any circumstances.
The Destrehan Plantation is notable for another reason. It was a filming location for the Interview with the Vampire and, more recently, 12 Years a Slave.
The museum is made up of the mansion, some surviving slave cabins and a few other structures. The tour started inside a ticket office/gift shop. Angie and I got the guided tour of the mansion, and after that, we were free to check out other parts that were open to the public. The tour guides wore period costumes, but they didn't try to act period - though our tour guide often shifted to present tense when describing what different portions of the house were in different time periods.
The tour was, really, part family history and part history of the house itself. Our tour guide explained how the house was expanded and remodeled, how Greek Revival features were added to the original French design. He talked about the three generations of Destrehans that lived that, and what life in the house was like at the time.
Because we weren't allowed to use flash photography, only some of the pictures turned out okay. That means that, unfortunately, the gallery does have some gaps.
The original mansion kitchen
Which doubled as a children's dining room
The adult dining room (the guy in the stovepipe hat is our tour guide)
A study that belonged to the third owner of the plantation - Stephen Henderson, Jean Destrehan's son-in-law. INterestingly, he wanted his slaves to be freed upon his death, but the Destrehan's got his will thrown out.
A common area
A living room
A bathroom
The bedroom belonging to the mistress of the house (which is to say, the wife of a plantation owner). The little bed you see at the foot of the bed was, according to our tour guide, a place where the mistress took naps. Using the actual bed was considered bad form, since the house slave worked hard to make the bed in the morning.
So yes, you could own people, but God forbid you take their work for granted.
The men's parlour
And the mansion's gorgeous veranda
The mansion used to have two water towers. What I didn't realize (until Angie pointed it out) was that they were cleverly re-appropriated during the restoration process. One tower was turned into a wheelchair elevator - which was really the only way to include that feature without compromising the building's historical interiors.
And the other was turned into a restroom
The tour guide struck an interesting tone. While his tour was a story of the Desterhan family, he repeatedly talked about the slaves who worked in the house and helped raise the kids. He also pointed out that dividing lines of the Louisiana race-based slave society weren't always clear cut. The mansion was built by Charles Pacquet, a half-black carpenter, who was paid for his work with combination of money, grain and "one brute negro."
Which brings us to the non-guided part of the tour.
The Destrehan plantation originally specialized in indigo dyes, but like most other area plantations, it soon shifted to sugar cane. While the majority of the slaves worked in the field or in the house, other slaves did other work, serving as blacksmiths, candlemakers, rope makers, weavers and barrel makers.
The museum holds regular demonstrations of the crafts the slaves used to do. While the reenactors follow period techniques, they are not necessarily black. We didn't stick around to see the demonstration that was scheduled on that day, but I did get some shots of the museum's demonstration area.
This is where they demonstrate how to make bousillage - the mixture of clay and grass used to fill in space between boards in Louisiana mansions like this one.
And this is where you'd get a look at how the indigo dyes were made.
The slaves lived in cabins like these ones.
This is what the common kitchen/dining area looked like on the inside.
The museum grounds had some other structures those purpose seems pretty self-explanatory.
But perhaps the most interesting part of the museum ground - other than the mansion - was the former overseer's house (Side note - at the Destrehan plantation, overseers were slaves, which must have made for an... interesting dynamic)
The museum turned most of the building into an exhibit on the 1811 German Coast Uprising - the biggest slave rebellion in United States history. Partially inspired by the then-recent successful Haiti revolution, the slaves in the plantations further west along the Mississippi took advantage of the lull in field work and rose up. They marched onto New Orleans, freeing slaves in all the plantations they passed through - including Destrehan Plantation.
The rebellion was crushed before they reached the city. The survivors were tried at Destrehan Plantation and at New Orleans by parish courts made up of plantation owners (Jean Destrehan recused himself). When describing what happened to the ones that were tried at the plantation, he exhibit is short and to the point
If you are wondering about the "missing" part, they could've slipped away and hid out in the swamps, the way many slaves that escaped from the area plantations did. Or it could be that local militias captured and killed them. We may never know.
The exhibit doesn't mention that the executed slaves' heads were put on pikes as a way to deter any further rebellions. But the exhibit does mention that the uprising added fuel to both sides of the growing debate over slavery. Louisiana legislature tightened restrictions against slaves and freemen, while abolitionists used it as evidence that slavery was cruel and unjust.
As I looked through the exhibit, I couldn't help but wonder. What if the German Coast uprising was larger and more successful? What if Louisiana - or at least a portion of it - became a nation of freed slaves, the way Haiti did. It would've had to be a much larger rebellion in order to stand any kind of chance, but still. As someone who's always been a fan of alternative histories, the possibility alone is pretty intriguing.
Like I said, the Destrehan Plantation would continue to use slaves until the end of the American Civil War. During the Reconstruction, it became one of the Freedmen Bureau colonies, where freed slaves were able to work (for money) and get educational and medical assistance. As the Reconstruction would down, the Destrehans got the plantation back, but it was a different world now. The family sold the plantation to the Mexican Petroleum Company, which would eventually become part of the American Oil Company. Amoco was only interested in the land for the oil that was buried underneath, so it had no qualms about removing any historical structures that got in the way. It did maintain the mansion to a certain extent, but once the well ran dry, they didn't even bother to do that.
in 1971, Amoco donated the property to the River Road Historical Society, which restored or recreated pretty much everything you saw in this post. It's a still-ongoing process, as the society continues to work to expand the museum.
Not far from the entrance, there's a plaque commemorating the donation.
"Yeah, after they ruined it," Angie snarked as we read it.
I should also mention that the plantation has some truly impressive trees, like the Spanish Moss...
...and the enormous oaks with branches that spread out and reach down to the ground, like tentacles.
Back when Destrehans first moved here, they could see the Mississippi River from their veranda. But, since then, levies were built to keep the flood water at bay.
I've never actually seen a levy up close before. So, before Angie and I headed back to Metairie, I asked if we could check it out.
I was surprised to discover that there was a bike trail running atop of the levy.
But when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense. It's a long embankment that runs for miles without any interruptions, and it gives you a great vantage point.
Bike trails are less common in southeastern Louisiana than they are in Chicagoland. The issue of Times-Picayune Angie brought me last year during FailCon had a front-page article about a proposed bike trail in the parish where she lived, and what struck me most about it is how everyone treated it as a strange, new phenomenon. Yet, according to Angie, the levy bike trails were well-used - and, much to her annoyance, bike riders don't seem to particularly care about pedestrians that walk along the trail.
So yes, fellow Chicagoans - it's kind of like Lake Shore Drive trail :)
After a stop atop of a levy, Angie and I headed back to Metairie. She and Jak invited a bunch of their friends for a party, asking each of them to bring some New Orleans specific food thing. The plan was to spend the rest of the day eating, chatting and playing board games.
But, as it's often been the case during the trip, things didn't quite work about this way.