Audubon Park

Audubon Park, once a plantation, was used by both the Union and Confederate Armies during the Civil War, as well as staging ground for the Buffalo Soldiers following the war. named for the famed naturalist, the city purchased the park in 1870 with the intention of creating a park. little development of the park occurred in the first decade the city owned it, but it managed to host the World Cotton Centennial (a World’s Fair) in 1884. development began in earnest thereafter though nearly all of the Fair buildings came down in favor of others. structures went up and down throughout the 20th century – a miniature railway, swan boats, carousel, a viewing shelter on the banks of the Mississippi, a conservatory. several early features remain – a golf course from 1898 (converted to Par 3 executive course in 2002 and protested as desecrating the original design of the park), the zoo (which received development aid from the Works Progress Administration), and a rookery on Oschner Island, which hosts a wide array of birds (including herons, egrets, and cormorants) and apparently makes for some of the best birding in New Orleans.

during Katrina, a few of the park’s oak trees blew over, but the park escaped flooding and attendant problems because of its location on top of the River’s natural levee. following the storm, it served as a makeshift helicopter port and encampment for National Guard troops and relief workers.

we made use of Audubon Park for a morning run – once we finally got there, after walking from the end of the (construction-shortened) streetcar line. we had to share the 1.7 mile paved path (which was closed to vehicles in the 1980s) with a swarm of parents and children engaged in a charity run/walk of some kind. the costumes on some of the kids – and the gravel path to one side – mostly made up for the congestion. next time, I wager we’d try the longer dirt path that skirts the edge of the park!

Plessy in New Orleans

the American history courses I took in high school differed from others in the emphasis placed on the experience of blacks and other people of color (the section covering the 20th century that I opted for was titled “African American Experience,” whereas the option most of school took was titled “American Experience”). however, while we spent quite a bit of time discussing various pieces of landmark legislation pertaining to social justice and racial equality, I was surprised to (re)discover Plessy’s link to New Orleans while exploring the exhibits of the Cabildo.

Homer Plessy was born to French-speaking Creole parents just before the outbreak of the Civil War and just after General Benjamin Butler’s troops occupied the city and liberated enslaved African Americans. his paternal grandfather, a white Frenchman from Bordeaux, arrived in New Orleans after leaving Haiti in the wake the rebellion that liberated the nation from Napoleon’s France. after his father’s death in 1869, his mother married a clerk at the U.S. Post Office who supplemented his income as a shoemaker. Plessy followed his stepfather into the shoe business, and also worked as a clerk and insurance agent, according to city records.

during the period of occupation and Reconstruction in which Plessy grew up, blacks in the city enjoyed a degree of freedom unheard of in the rest of the South – marrying freely and attending integrated schools (briefly), among other rights. in 1873, his stepfather signed on to the Unification Movement which sought to establish equality in Louisiana (which had a more laissez-faire attitude about racial segregation from its early years as something of a remote backwater up until it became a state and its liberality conflicted with laws of neighboring states.) once federal troops withdrew from the city by the order of President Hayes in 1877, however, rights hitherto enjoyed by most and any prospect for a racially egalitarian society vanished.

from a young age, Plessy displayed political and social conscious; he served as a leader in an education reform movement and, ultimately, joined a mixed-race civil rights group called the Comite de Cityones. not unlike the Montgomery Improvement Association, the Comite orchestrated the events that culminated in the landmark Plessy v. Ferguson case. as with the Montgomery boycott some six decades later, Plessy’s appearance contributed to the plan — as one scholar noted, he was white enough to gain access to the location where he was black enough to get arrested. on June 7, 1892, he bought a first-class ticket on train between New Orleans and Covington and took a seat in the “whites-only” car. when asked for his ticket Plessy stated that, as a person 7/8 white, he did not want to sit in the “blacks-only” car. he was arrested immediately, held overnight on $500 bond and tried a month later for the offense.

the trial – before Judge John Howard Ferguson – took place in one of the second floor rooms of the Cabildo and Plessy’s case rested on the argument that the law that resulted in his arrest violated his rights under the recently-passed Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments. Ferguson disagreed based on the contention that the state could set rules for railroad business that took place within its borders. the State Supreme Court upheld Ferguson’s ruling and refused to rehear the case but allowed for a petition for writ of error, which allowed the case to progress to the United States Supreme Court.

in 1896, the U.S. Supreme Court heard and ruled on the case, the majority opinion laying out the doctrine of “separate but equal” that permitted states to segregate with federal permission until struck down by the Brown v. Board decision of 1954. (one Justice – John Marshall Harlan of Kentucky – dissented on the grounds that the Louisiana law was inconsistent with the liberty citizens and was hostile to both the spirit and letter of the U.S. Constitution. his position on this and other cases dealing with racial segregation earned him the nickname “the Great Dissenter.”)

following the Court’s decision, Plessy pleaded guilty and paid the levied fine in January of 1897. he returned to his life – became a father, remained active in his church and community, sold insurance — and died at in 1925. he was interred in his family’s tomb at the St. Louis Cemetery #1; our group vied with three or four others to see the site and to discuss his importance to the city and American history. it wasn’t a long discussion, more a kind of shorthand — you all have heard of Plessy, right? this one is his family tomb. I’ve learned more about his life in writing this post, but seeing the family tomb and site of the trial spurred me into researching his life.

the Cabildo

until our trip to New Orleans, all of our Pi Phi Homecoming destinations took us places one of us did or had lived. consequently, I hadn’t much context into which I might fit excitement, anticipation, or plans for must-see sites. (beyond beignets. we knew beignets were #1 on our list of everything.) although generally I anxiously and enthusiastically plan out which historical or otherwise noteworthy places I want to visit, this trip saw me picking a guidebook up from the library on a whim mere days before the trip.

ultimately, that plan worked out pretty well. Gabrielle had visited the city before and knew enough about what to check out to give us a template to structure our weekend on, and the “top sights” provided us with the rest. as a result, I knew little of what to expect when suggesting we check out the Cabildo beyond the (in hindsight) vague blurb in the guidebook. a delightful and detailed tour through the city’s history through Reconstruction in one of its most historic buildings.

the Cabildo and its architectural twin, the Presbytere, buttress the St. Louis Cathedral on the northwestern edge of Jackson Square. fire destroyed the original structure in in the Great New Orleans Fire of 1788 and the present building went up between 1795 and 1799 to serve as the seat of Spanish governance for the territory. that role didn’t last long – the Louisiana Purchase transfer occurred in the Cabildo in 1803 and thereafter served as City Hall until 1853, as well as home to the territorial superior court (1803-1812). it also hosted notable visitors to the city, including the Marquis de Lafayette, who was granted use of the Sala Capitular during his stay. from 1868 to 1910 it served as State Supreme Court, where landmark cases such as Plessy v. Ferguson were adjudicated.

despite housing the Supreme Court, by the late 19th century the building had fallen into significant disrepair and was poised for demolition. artist William Woodward (known for impressionist paintings of the city and Gulf Coast) led a successful campaign to save and preserve the building. in 1908 ownership transferred to the Louisiana State Museum, which opened it to the public with historical exhibits shortly thereafter. it was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1960 and underwent extensive restoration in the early 1990s following a fire in 1988 that destroyed the cupola and most of the third floor. it came through Katrina with relatively minor damage and served as temporary offices for Louisiana State Police as they patrolled the streets in the aftermath of the disaster. today the Friends of Cabildo run tours of the Vieux Carre, and the site hosts yoga in the second floor gallery that overlooks Jackson Square on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. (it sounded like fun … but we opted for a ride on the St. Charles streetcar, a long walk to Audubon Park, and run around the lake.)

beignets at Cafe Beignet in Royal St

two days in New Orleans naturally meant two days of beignets. our second tasting took us to Cafe Beignet in Royal Street. our guide book claimed there’s a heated debate as to which tourist cafe has the better beignets — this one or the Cafe du Monde we’d visited the day earlier.

it sits deeper into the French Quarter, rather than plopped next to the Mississippi River across from Lafayette Square, and benefits from it. the cafe has a bright but subterranean feel, which contrasted interestingly with the open-air, wall-less atmosphere of the previous day. we opted to take our beignets in the courtyard, shared by the police station next door. (in truth, while the courtyard was clearly designed for use by the cafe customers I wasn’t convinced we weren’t, technically, on city property.) we arrived in the mid-afternoon, meeting up for a cemetery tour schedule to depart from the sidewalk out side the cafe, but opted to work up an appetite on our walking tour before enjoying the slightly-less-powder-covered fried treat. while I can’t speak to the quality of the coffee, the iced tea was quite tasty — and a welcome option. the workers at this establishment seemed much less world-weary and notably more competent; perhaps a question of scale but certainly welcome. leaving this place, I was nigh-tempted to buy a box of their beignet mix; not so at the other place or when I saw offerings in gift shops along Royal Street. I may not have any kitchen appliance designed for frying, but I’m adventurous enough to try it out on my own, so long as I can find a good recipe when inspired.

while many cultures have variations of fried fritters, beignets came to New Orleans from France in the 18th century. (some believe the Ursuline nuns may have brought the recipe, though there isn’t evidence to substantiate the claim.) they became a staple of Creole cuisine, generally sweet though sometimes savory, and in 1986 were declared the official state doughnut of Louisiana.

Old U.S. Mint

the Mint in New Orleans is the only one in the United States to have produced coinage for both the United and Confederate States of America. the strategic location of the city, its bustling port, and sizable antebellum population made it a desirable location for a mint. in the 1830s, Andrew Jackson established several mints throughout the south, including the one in New Orleans, because he felt the Second Bank of the United States (the recharter of which he vetoed in 1832) benefited northeastern businessmen at the expense of common frontiersmen. combined with the effects of some of Jackson’s presidential acts and fiscal policy, by the end of the 1830s, the need for minted money necessitated additional mints. the red brick building was designed by William Strickland (who also designed the mints in Philadelphia, Charlotte, NC, and Dahlonega, GA) went up in 1835 and began making coins in 1838.

the New Orleans mint quickly became one of the most important in the country. its location made it convenient both to Mexican or and recently discovered gold mines in Alabama. while the Philadelphia mint produced more coinage, New Orleans could distribute its output much faster, particularly to the rapidly growing southern and western states and territories.

prior to Louisiana’s secession from the Union, the mint produced numerous denominations of coin, all from silver or gold. once the building and assets were seized by the Confederacy, operations were turned over to making Confederate half-dollars of the remaining gold bullion. once the bullion ran out, the building served to quarter Confederate troops until the Union occupied the city in 1862.

the Union flag raised above the mint after the city was captured resulted in a notable scandal. a professional gambler named William Mumford and several other people defied Marine orders to leave the flag alone, and entered the mint to rip the flag down, tearing it apart and stuffing bits into his shirt to save as souvenirs. the commander of U.S. forces in Louisiana, Benjamin Butler, arrested and charged with high crimes and misdemeanors. he was tried and convicted by a military tribunal in May of 1862 and was executed by hanging in the courtyard of the mint.

after the Civil War, the building was used as an assay office from 1876-79, during which time it was refurbished and damaged minting machinery was replaced. it continued to make coins until 1909. the mint was then decommissioned, much to the chagrin of then-governor Huey Long, and the machinery sent to the one in Philadelphia. responsibility of the building was transferred to the state in 1965 after serving as an assay office, federal prison, Coast Guard storage facility. it was refurbished and turned into a museum, in which capacity it has served since the 1960s. damage from Katrina closed the museum for two years and now showcases rotating exhibits and the Louisiana Historical Center and the Jazz National Historic Park hosts concerts periodically.

beignets at Cafe du Monde

consumption of beignets sat squarely atop our list of tourist-musts for our New Orleans adventure. our very first stop on Friday morning, after a breezy but pleasant walk from our hotel next to the convention center into the French Quarter, was the Cafe du Monde – perhaps the best known source of beignets in the city.

situated diagonally across the street from Jackson Square, Cafe du Monde has operated since the 1860s, originally a part of the French Market. capitalizing on the popularity of their signature treat, at one time Cafe du Monde locations ranged all over Louisiana and as far away as Atlanta. today, there are just under a dozen locations around the greater New Orleans area. the French Market cafe is open 24 hours a day year round, with the exception of Christmas day and whenever hurricanes threaten enough to necessitate closure. the cafe closed on August 27, 2005, in advance of Katrina and, though the venue was only slightly damaged by the storm, the property owners took two months following the storm to refurbish the cafe while visitor numbers were down.

we arrived about 10:00 a.m. on a Friday to stand in line. while the line moved quickly, getting us under the awning in about 10 or 15 minutes, the same couldn’t be said for getting our tasty fried treats and chicory-flavored cafe au lait. when the beignets arrived, they proved mostly worth the wait, though by the end of my order they seemed to be losing a crucial degree of their warmth, if not their tasty, fried (and sugar-drenched) sweetness. not the best beignets I had on our trip, but still mighty tasty.

Jackson Square

while one of the most popular locations in the French Quarter, I had no idea I was looking at Jackson Square when I first saw it. it was just “off to the left” while we were waiting to taste our first beignets. it’s most prominent feature is Andrew Jackson, hero of the Battle of New Orleans and later 7th President of the United States, rearing up on his trusty steed. it is one of four identical statues of Jackson, the other three residing in D.C., Nashville, and Jacksonville.

in the colonial period, the space between St. Patrick Cathedral and the river was the Place d’Armes/Plaza de Armas and served as a public space, military parade ground, and open-air market for the burgeoning city. it also served as a place for executions in the rowdier days of the colony, including those of the German Coast Slave Uprising of 1811.

later in the 19th century the Baroness Micaela Pontalba helped transform the square into a garden, lobbing for and financing the transformation into a park. the new design included pathways, benches, fountains, and an iron fence along the outside, with her namesake buildings facing the park from across St. Ann and St. Peter streets. the statue was dedicated in 1856, and a plaque proclaiming that “The Union Must and Shall be Preserved” added during the Civil War by Union General Benjamin Butler during the occupation of the city.

today, now that three of the adjacent streets have been made into pedestrian malls, all manner of artists, performers, and fortune and tarot readers entice tourists. during the time we were around the Square I saw perhaps a half-dozen musical performers of all varieties. while in the Presbytere, I thought the exhibition’s soundtrack had gotten turned up overwhelmingly loud … but it turned out to be the brass band in front of the building!

Bienville and the founding of New Orleans

this year, our Homecoming tradition took us for the first time to a city where none of us have ever lived, and two-thirds of us had never been: the Crescent City, the Big Easy, home of the cocktail, voodoo, jazz, and beignets — New Orleans.

we were up early the first morning to explore the city, heading first to the French Quarter the oldest and possibly most atmospheric of the cities sections. initially, I was taken aback by how little of the city’s early history I knew — first settled by the French, then taken over by the Spanish and returned to the French only to be sold to the fledgling United States. up from the Louisiana Purchase I have a vague understanding of how things operated, but I was delighted to discover a much more layered and rich history than I’d ever anticipated.

one of the first plaza statues we encountered was of Bienville, one of the founders of New Orleans and early governor of the French colony. born in Montreal, he was appointed to the position for the first time in 1701 and established several settlements, including a deep water port at Dauphine Island, what is now Mobile, Alabama, and ultimately New Orleans. the slight elevation made it far more practical than other sites along the flood-prone river and delta and was convenient to important trading positions. with permission from the company directors, he established New Orleans in 1718 and the heart of it — what is now known as the the Vieux Carre or French Quarter — was drawn up between 1720-21. the proposed grid pattern was largely overlooked by settlers initially, but when a hurricane flattened most of the existing structures in 1722, the new pattern went into effect, as we see it today. it became capital of the new colony, named for the Duc d’Orleans, in 1723.

the land had been inhabited for thousands of years by native peoples and, generally, the original inhabitants welcomed and aided early settlers, such as French trappers and traders traversing the Mississippi River. Bienville was known for his cordial relations with Native Americans, one of few early governors who could communicate without the use of an interpreter and, moreover, willing to aid local tribes against opposition tribes. many of the settlers were unsavory types and the governor complained frequently in his letters back to the central government. his relationship with administrators of the Company of the Indies, which controlled the colony, was fractious and resulted in him being recalled to France in 1725. he returned some 8 years later and severed as governor officially and focused on fortifying the settlement. all told, he served 30 years as governor over a 42 year period and retired to live in Paris for more than twenty years.