Title: The Great Days of the Garden District - and the Old City of Lafayette
Author: Samuel, Joseph Raymond, Samuel, Martha Ann Brett
Language: English
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                         _THE GREAT DAYS OF THE
                            GARDEN DISTRICT
                     And the Old City of Lafayette_


                                  _by
                        Martha Ann Brett Samuel
                                  and
                              Ray Samuel_


                     Published and Copyrighted 1961
                          Fifth Printing 1974

         By the Parents’ League of the Louise S. McGehee School

            Library of Congress Catalogue Card No. 61-18748

    [Illustration: The city of Lafayette, during its 19 years of life,
    was proud and independent. Map shows its location and that of its
    “back” residential area, the Garden District. (Drawn by Gilbert
    Tasso.)]



                                PREFACE


There has long been a need for the factual story of the old City of
Lafayette and its fine residential area, the Garden District. What
better opportunity to attempt to fill this need than to benefit the
Louise S. McGehee School! This venerable institution now approaches its
fiftieth year, a memorable half century of leadership in education.

Therefore, the Parents’ League of McGehee’s, as the school is
affectionately known to three generations of students, considered it
fitting to put its members to work on this project with a three-fold
purpose: to memorialize the half century of growth of McGehee’s as it
continues to expand its facilities to serve the community; to develop an
extra source of income for the League’s contributions to the school; and
to satisfy the continuous requests made by the hundreds of visitors who
take the League-sponsored Garden District home tours.

The authors, who were asked to undertake the research and writing
project, are gratefully indebted to many for their kind advice and
consent. Old maps, documents, rare books and family records have been
generously offered for examination. Illustrations have been lent from
private and other collections. Patient understanding and careful
correction of the manuscript were invaluable. We would like to thank
particularly the following: Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Wilson, Jr., Mr. Cecil
J. Murphy, Mr. Leonard V. Huber, The Waldo-Burton Memorial Home, Miss
Margaret Ruckert, Mrs. Sue Bauman, Mr. Richard Koch, Mrs. William J.
Griffith, Mrs. Dorothy Whittemore and others in the archives department
of the Howard-Tilton Library of Tulane University, the Louisiana State
Museum Library, the Notarial Archives, Mrs. Benjamin Cromwell Gore, Mrs.
Robert Lee Emery, Jr., Miss Barbara Gessner, Miss Lily Gauche, Mr. Frank
Boatner, Mrs. Keith Temple, Dr. Bernard Lemann, Mr. Albert Lieutaud, Mr.
Harold Leisure, Mr. Carleton King, Mr. Errol E. Kelly, Mrs. John Prados,
and Dr. Virgil L. Bedsole.

From the McGehee faculty and the Parents’ League inestimable assistance
was received. Mrs. Edmund McIlhenny, Parents’ League President, and Miss
Elise McGehee, Headmistress, were extremely generous with their time and
counsel. Our thanks to Mrs. Andrew W. Dykers for reading the manuscript;
Mrs. Leslie Bowling, who designed and executed the cover picture; Leon
Trice, Jr., who took the majority of the interior photographs; Mrs.
Bernard Wolfe, capable business manager of the project; and very special
gratitude to Mrs. Dallam O’Brien, who designed the book, and to Mr.
O’Brien for his help.

Particular appreciation is given, of course, to the present owners of
the great houses selected for inclusion in this work, for their gracious
permission and cooperation.

  MARTHA ANN BRETT SAMUEL
  RAY SAMUEL

October, 1961


_Acknowledgment_

The Parents’ League of the Louise S. McGehee School acknowledges with
appreciation the work of Mr. and Mrs. Ray Samuel in writing this book on
the Garden District in New Orleans. We are indeed grateful to them for
devoting their time and talent to this school project.

    [Illustration: Italianate villa of James Robb, millionaire railroad
    man, was showplace of Garden District in the early 1850’s. It
    occupied entire block of Washington Avenue, Camp, Chestnut, and
    Sixth Streets. Rare works of art embellished its ornate rooms,
    landscaped gardens.]



                         A LAFAYETTE CITY STORY


It was February 23, in the year 1852; the place, Lafayette City, the
independent municipality on the Mississippi River, just above the
thriving city of New Orleans. The hazy sun was turning a chilly morning
into one of the unseasonably warm late winter afternoons typical of the
semi-tropical climate. Throughout the spacious back residential section
of Lafayette City, known as the Garden District, the azalea bushes were
covered with swollen buds, ready to burst into their annual blaze of
glory.

A morning rain had sent a tiny fresher gurgling along the deep,
weed-lined gutters, carefully retained between street and banquette by
stout “gunwales”, long planks from broken up flatboats. The neat
herringbone pattern of the red brick banquettes was set off by the
doily-like border of the white pickets fencing the fine mansion of John
Layton on Jackson Street.

Tall jalousies guarded the front door of the Layton home. Suddenly they
parted, and John Layton, Esquire, himself, walked out, followed by John,
Junior, a lad of 12 years. Emerging from the darkened interior, they
both squinted at the afternoon haze. Obviously, from their winter
finery, hats and light topcoats, this was a more-important-than-usual
sortie.

“There she comes, John, c’mon!” shouted Father, grabbing John by the arm
and hustling him down the wooden stairs of the gallery, out the swinging
gate and into the street to hail the passing omnibus mule car, bound in
Jackson Street toward the lively commercial center of Lafayette City,
near the river front.

Father physically scooped son aboard the double-decker omnibus “Governor
Johnson”, the pride of Lafayette and product of its own Hart, Thomas and
Company. It was crowded this day, top to bottom, and all passengers were
dressed in unaccustomed finery.

“But, Father...,” panted young John, “... why are we ... where are
we...?”

Both struggled into the packed lower section of the “Governor Johnson”
and sandwiched into seats. Blowing hard, the elder Layton withdrew a
large linen handkerchief and mopped his brow. In February! Then he
answered his son.

“It is a day in history, lad. You’ll see. ’Tis a memory of it I want you
to have. Whew!” It was close inside the “Governor Johnson”.

The rocky ride on the mule car compounded the effort of John Layton,
Sr., to regain composure. Someone opened a window, but little breeze was
generated by the four-mile-per-hour clop, clop, clop of the two scrawny
mules. Father knew he still owed son an explanation.

“You see, my boy, we live—or have lived to this very day—in Lafayette
City, a distinct and separate city of our own people, our own mayor, our
own police, God bless ’em all. But this day, as I said, boy, is
historic. The mayor and city fathers in their wisdom, have seen fit to
join us to the city of New Orleans by law, as we have long been in fact.
Nothing but an imaginary line on the downtown side of Felicity Road has
divided us before. Now we will become one. You will see. A wedding you
will witness, a wedding of two cities.... ’Til death us do part.” Layton
_père_ was warming up to the occasion and rather enjoying the attention
of the crowd which smiled benignly at his efforts.

By this time the mule car had come to a stop at Magazine Street where
several people got on, further packing the omnibus until passengers were
hanging on the stairs outside. As the car started up again, faint sounds
of music, a brass band, were heard, coming from the center of the city’s
activity.

“It’s a great day, isn’t it, Mr. Layton?” said a red-faced man from
behind a well-starched collar, sitting next to them, “becoming the
fourth district of New Orleans, and all that.”

“That it is, sir, now that we can be sure the new city government will
treat us properly. That’s why we held off before, you know. They assume
our indebtedness, $504,800, I believe, and we share in their expenses
and in the McDonogh fund—all in proportion, as it should be. No one can
complain now.”

As the omnibus crossed Laurel, young John glanced anxiously to the
right, looking up the street between Jackson and Philip at the quiescent
Lafayette Public School building, making sure there was really a
holiday. No sign of life there relieved him immensely, for the
Principal, Mr. Lewis Elkin, brooked no absentees without due cause,
which usually meant near death.

The tired mules, knowing the end of the line and a well-earned rest were
imminent, slowed to scant mobility, just as the “Governor Johnson”
passed the Orphan Asylum buildings between Chippewa and Rousseau. Young
John steeled himself for the standard lecture from Layton _père_ on
counting his blessings that he had loving parents, et cetera.
Surprisingly, it didn’t come and then John realized that was because
everybody was getting ready to disembark.

The mule car stopped at the Jackson Market. Here the street parted to
pass on each side of the two-story, whitewashed building which extended
almost across Rousseau Street. Passengers poured out of the omnibus,
Laytons included, and all joined a large assemblage of noisy citizens,
ready for a convivial occasion.

On Jackson, toward Levee Street, at their left, a big United States flag
hung from the editorial offices of the Lafayette _Statesman_, where J.
G. Fanning, its indomitable editor, was holding a sort of wake as his
days as “official city printer” came to an end.

    [Illustration: Asylum for Destitute Orphan Boys, established in
    1824, occupied site on Jackson between Chippewa and Rousseau where
    hospital stands today.]

Up Rousseau toward Philip, from where the Laytons stood, they could see
banners and bunting swathed all over the Lafayette Courthouse, for the
city still would have its court, that of the Fourth District, and would
still be the seat of Jefferson Parish, too.

In the next block between Philip and Soraparu, a drab note was added by
the still uncleared ruins of the burned out Lafayette Theater, directly
across the street from the equally charred remains of Terpsichore Hall,
both victims of the same night’s conflagration. John had mixed emotions
about the loss of the hall. He had delighted at the antics of the
remarkable General Tom Thumb there; but he had also paled before the
saber tongue of Monsieur Pierre Clissey, dancing master who taught “the
latest dances now in vogue, with special classes for children”. His
father had attended a fete for General Zachary Taylor in Terpsichore
Hall; so, despite M. Clissey, its memory still held certain charms for
John’s young imagination. What he _did_ remember vividly was the great
fire in March, 1850. Everybody in Lafayette, it seemed, had rushed to
the scene. The fire began in the Lafayette Theater and took the entire
block with it. Sparks jumped across the street and claimed Terpsichore
Hall and several houses next door. A boy doesn’t forget a sight like
that!

The crowd now gravitated around the towering flagpole at the river end
of Jackson Market. If there was any place the residents of Lafayette
City instinctively considered the center of town, this spot was it,
under the 135 foot high flagpole. Although one block from the
courthouse, it represented the heart of Lafayette out of pure sentiment.
Within the memories of almost everyone, the seat of the city fathers had
been the rooms above the market stalls. To this day some citizens still
maintained that new quarters for the Council should be found further out
on Jackson, mainly because of the ... well ... civic pride prevented use
of the word ... “smell”.

Even though most of the slaughter houses had been moved to Jefferson
City landing, above Lafayette; and even though the breaking up of
flatboats with their objectionable odors had several years before been
relegated to comparatively secluded sections along the river, there
still wafted in from the water’s edge certain disagreeable olfactory
assaults. These seemed to be at their worst whenever the city council
was in session, giving rise, among the jocular Irish and German senses
of humor, to all sorts of unfortunate jokes concerning the odor of the
particular politics under discussion.

The _Southern Traveler_, published by the Rust brothers, Richard and W.
E., had moved into a new building just around the corner of Levee
Street, and that, some people felt, might help to sweeten the
atmosphere. They were in the process of giving this a fair chance when
the amalgamation of Lafayette and New Orleans was proposed. So now, it
appeared, the matter was moot.

Anyway, on this particular day, at this particular hour, the two
Laytons’ attention was diverted by the arrival, from opposite
directions, of two parades. One, headed by top-hatted horsemen, red
bands across their chests, issued from lower Rousseau Street. The blasts
of the familiar brass band were the unmistakable label of the merry
Germans, who for this occasion were arm in arm with their neighbors of
the Irish Channel section of Lafayette, the streets closest to the upper
limit of New Orleans and nearest the river, Felicity, St. Mary, Adele
and Nuns. The German families congregated for excitement at the
Lafayette Ballroom, St. Mary corner of Bellechasse. This day produced a
delightful excuse for excitement at the Lafayette, not that an excuse
was generally necessary. The merriment there was known to last as long
as the poker game in the back room, which was eternal. William Toy, the
blue-nosed editor of the _City Advertiser_ and ardent temperance
crusader, often thundered in print about these “sounds of revelry by
night” and by morn, too.

The Lafayette was in contrast to the more sedate ballroom run by Mr.
Jacob Kaiser, Josephine corner of Chippewa, across from the back of the
Orphan Boys’ Home. This was more of a coffee house, where political
meetings were held, and only on Saturday night did its hall echo loud
and long. Early Sunday morning the good ladies of the Roman Catholic
Church congregation barely had time to clean out the hall before early
Mass. This was before St. Mary’s Church was built by the Redemptorists.

The other retinue, made up mostly of squeaky two-wheeled carts toting
frosty barrels of conviviality for the celebration, snaked along
Rousseau Street toward Jackson. This parade had no brass band, but it
had collected more of a crowd than if it had. Mr. Kranz had thoughtfully
supplied the refrigerant from his popular ice house on Soraparu, just
off Rousseau, and the Lafayette Rum Distillery on Levee, between First
and Second Streets, had provided the rest of the refreshments.

Young John Layton was taking all this in while trying to keep from being
squeezed by the crowd. It was indeed another sight he’d never forget,
even though all of it was not very clear to his tender understanding. He
was much more interested in the Kaintucks from upriver with their long
rifles and in the be-medalled guardsmen.

Then things began to happen. Mayor Francis Bouligny, his sash of office
loosely tied around his corpulence, made his way through the crowd to a
small wooden stand beneath the flag pole. He was followed by the other
city officials: the treasurer, comptroller, city attorney, surveyor,
harbormaster, commissary of streets, commissary of day police, captain
of the night watch, tax collector and the 10 aldermen, all performing
their last independent functions as officials of the city of Lafayette.
Michel Musson, prominent Whig Party leader, was everywhere in evidence.

Traditionally, such an occasion would call for hours of oratory. But the
skies were darkening early and a nippy breeze was stirring in from the
river; so comparatively short work was made of it. Appropriate words
were said over the city of Lafayette, its nineteen years of life, by
members of the clergy. Mayor Bouligny read the ad of incorporation into
the City of New Orleans as approved by the Louisiana Legislature and
signed by Governor Joseph Walker. Lafayette City thereby ceased to
exist. The fourth district of the City of New Orleans was now in
business, and on with the drinks, boys!

From the levee bells clanged, signalling the departure of the Bostona,
Magnolia and several other popular packets at the wharves across from
the Bull’s Head, the lusty tavern at the cattle landing, foot of St.
Mary Street. The two John Laytons, father and son, made their way toward
the soda water establishment run by Mr. M. Michell on Jackson, near
Levee, where a cup of hot chocolate, sweet and tasty, would reward the
youngster’s patience during the ceremony which he had but scarcely
comprehended.

    [Illustration: Michel Musson was prominent in Whig politics and
    served as New Orleans postmaster. He built fine mansion at Third and
    Plaquemine, now Coliseum. Edgar Degas was his nephew and visited
    Musson in the Garden District.]

His father found friendly conversation inside the tiny shop, fragrant
with aromas of vanilla bean and chocolate. As John blew on the steaming
cup, he noticed his father chatting with a fine-looking gentleman who
was followed by a liveried footman, hat in hand. Layton, Sr., called his
son over.

“This is my son John, Mr. Robb. This is Mr. Robb, son.” James Robb! The
name was magic to any youngster in Lafayette, especially those living in
the garden section. This was the celebrated New Orleans millionaire who
was, they said, going to build a real palace right in their own
neighborhood. They had walked over to Washington Street one day to see
the workmen clearing the space for it. It was to take up a whole square!

“Mr. Robb has kindly offered to drive us home in his carriage,”
explained Layton, and the three proceeded out the door, followed by the
footman who stepped nimbly ahead outside and lowered the step.

The conversation between the two men immediately jumped to a name
familiar to the boy: Poultney. It was familiar because it was the
subject of so much “grown-up” talk.

“I hope the Federal Supreme Court will now settle the matter once and
for all time,” asserted Robb. “One’s sympathies may be with the Poultney
heirs, but the magnitude of the property, so much of Lafayette City is
involved, that one must consider the injustice of dispossessing the
present owners who bought their small lots in good faith.”

Layton agreed, adding that should the decision be otherwise, a friend of
his, Captain G. T. Beauregard, might realize a sum, as he was one of the
heirs.

Mr. Robb directed his carriage out Jackson to the river, turning right
at Levee Street with its Belgian block pavements, made of granite blocks
dumped on the levee from foreign ships which brought them as ballast.
The river front as far as the boy could see was lined with flatboats,
the ugly but extremely practical box-like floating storehouses, their
“broadhorns” shipped and nestling so close to each other that one could
walk for miles along their cabintops.

    [Illustration: Flatboats lined riverfront in early days, awaiting
    sale of cargoes.]

The flatboats were built to bring cargoes for sale at New Orleans, then
the boats were broken up and sold as timber. The flatboat crews, a
robust lot, went “on the town” while awaiting the sale of their cargoes,
and before returning upriver for another cargo in another boat. John had
been warned many times about becoming too friendly with the flatboatmen,
although nobody ever recalled their being out of line with other than
their own brood and the police.

The main problem the city government had with flatboatmen was keeping
them from putting out signs and selling their cargoes “retail” in
competition with legitimate Lafayette merchants.

The shiny black wheels of the elegant carriage skidded and creaked along
the uneven stones, and John was glad when the driver finally turned
right again and entered Washington Street. The conveyance ran relatively
more smoothly now. Washington had been “paved” with flatboat gunwales
laid very closely together. Just past Rousseau Street, Mr. Robb gave a
sharp command and the carriage veered left, and “Oh, no,” thought young
John, “It can’t be!”

But it was. The carriage pulled into the lane leading up to the most
forbidding spot in Lafayette to the youngsters. This was known as the
“Haunted House of Lafayette”, and no boy or girl, no matter how brave,
no matter how dared, would approach it, especially in the late evening.
That was when “things” happened!

And there they were, driving right up to it. Frightening, that’s what it
was. Haunts and ghosts, and pirate treasures, and dead bodies!

Mr. Robb slowed the carriage by command, and he and John Layton, Sr.,
looked over the state of ill repair in which the once celebrated
plantation house now stood.

“I can see no advantage to Madame Livaudais’ offer,” said Mr. Robb,
breaking a silence that had helped terrify the young boy.

“Nor do I, Mr. Robb,” Layton replied, obviously taking up a conversation
of an earlier period of which the boy had not been a part. He listened
as Mr. Robb described the offer of Madame Livaudais to sell to the
Lafayette Council, now the Fourth District Aldermen, the entire square
of Washington, Sixth, Levee, Fulton, including the house, for $80,000,
to serve as a Municipal Hall and market. Layton commented that, since
the present location served the government’s need at $1,100 per year,
and since a new market on Soraparu was under consideration, it would not
be of interest.

John Layton Jr., had clasped the seat of the carriage so hard that his
knuckles were white, and as the carriage turned around and headed back
toward Washington Street, he couldn’t even summon courage for a furtive
glance back at the ruin to see if the reported red lights danced from
the cracks in the crumbling and once proud home of the family de
Livaudais.

The street lamps had been lit at each intersection as the fine pair
pulled the carriage steadily out Washington.

Chippewa Street John knew because he loved to play in Clay Square
between it, Second, Third and Annunciation Streets. The last street he
had first known as Jersey. Laurel Street, where the heavy doors and the
iron bars of the jail, just a block from his school, served as a
reminder to the little boys to stay in line. Constance Street, first
known to him as Live Oak, was familiar as the location of Holy Trinity
Church, corner of Second, where his family worshipped. The new church on
Jackson was not yet ready.

Magazine Street was next, and this held special charm for him because on
Washington, from Magazine to Camp, Live Oak Square formed a vast,
tree-shaded playground where he and his young friends staged many a mock
battle, refighting the famous engagement at Chalmette, as told to them
by some of the veterans themselves, men who had known Jackson, Lafitte
and Dominique You in the flesh! Often the boys surrendered the wonderful
grounds to real soldiers who encamped there and had military drills;
sometimes, to wagon-loads of picnickers of a Sunday. The moss-draped
oaks indeed beckoned to him even in the twilight and seemed to whisper,
“We’ll be waiting.”

And in the next block they saw the rough foundation outlines of Mr.
Robb’s house, an Italian villa he said it would be. The granite
foundation stones being hewn, the stacks of the finest cypress and
imported mahogany, the piles of red bricks made of the best lake sand—no
ordinary house was abuilding here!

Mr. Robb slowed his carriage, but as it was too dark to make out much,
they sped onward, turning right at Chestnut Street for the final lap
back home to Jackson.

“What a day this has been in the life of the former city of Lafayette,”
thought John Layton, Sr. “I wonder,” he mused that night at home, “if
the boy really grasped the impact? Maybe I’d better....”

It was too late for that night. John, Jr., had long before gone to
sleep.

    [Illustration: Old drawing in Archives of building at Third and
    Levee, probably a tavern. Lamp at corner was typical of those
    throughout Lafayette.]



                 THE GREAT DAYS OF THE GARDEN DISTRICT


The foregoing is meant to provide a setting for the information to
follow. The scene described is not based on an actual occurrence,
although it is entirely probable, and factually correct as to dates,
places and people except for the Laytons. “Any resemblance is entirely
coincidental,” as the usual disclaimer says. The merger of Lafayette
City and New Orleans did take place under the circumstances described,
although no such public event was recorded in the newspapers. This _mise
en scène_ has been contrived merely to serve as a vehicle for revealing
the surroundings and events of the period, since the essence, the
individuality, the physical characteristics of old Lafayette City are so
important to the full understanding and appreciation of the present
Garden District and its great houses.

It is equally important to go back one more step to learn how Lafayette
City came to be; and it is highly interesting to anyone with the
slightest historical inquisitiveness. For the area which was Lafayette
City, some four miles removed from what is considered the “historical
section” of New Orleans, the Vieux Carré, is still closely interwoven
with the original colony’s basic story line.

Louisiana was first seen through European eyes by the Spanish
conquistadores of De Soto’s expedition in 1540. The Spanish did nothing
to make use of the vast territory they first claimed. Almost 150 years
passed before the white man again cast an interested glance in this
direction. This was the period of French exploration in the 1650’s, when
Canadians began to look south from the Great Lakes and wonder if all
were true that the Indians told them about the great river to the south
which led to the sea through a land of wealth and plenty. This increased
curiosity resulted in the famous La Salle expeditions and the claiming
of the entire central area of the United States for France in 1684.
Still, no colonial interest was aroused. It took the threat of war and
the encroachment of English colonies from the East and Spanish from the
West to make the French take Louisiana seriously as a possible source of
wealth for the throne.

To secure the colony from attack, forts were built in Canada and on the
Great Lakes. The distinguished French-Canadian naval officer, Pierre Le
Moyne d’Iberville, hero of Hudson’s Bay and other battles with the
English, was sent to install a colony on the Gulf Coast and to build
bastions to guard the great river.

The first Colony in Louisiana was founded at Ocean Springs, Miss., near
Biloxi, in 1699, by Iberville. It wasn’t until 1718 that another Le
Moyne, the Sieur de Bienville, succeeded his brother and persuaded the
French authorities to move the capital of the colony to a site on the
Mississippi River. Not until 1722 did the capital finally move to New
Orleans, to the area we now know as the Vieux Carré, the old quarter.

After the founding of the city of La Nouvelle Orléans, a fine example of
foresight was shown by Jean Baptiste Le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville,
governor of the colony. He wisely realized that the land surrounding the
young city would become valuable, and according to the custom, he asked
for a grant of land from the Company of the Indies, the agency which
operated the colony for the King. He asked for “the concession of a
tract situated above and at the limits of New Orleans, facing the
Mississippi River, and in depth running West quarter North West to the
Mississippi, in the bend above the Chapitoulas....” This would include
an area roughly from Bienville street in the Vieux Carré, up the river
beyond Carrollton to Nine Mile Point, and back from the river to the
undrained swamps where Claiborne Avenue is today.

Hardly had he been given possession of his land than Bienville received
a further ruling that a governor could not receive concessions of
property except for “vegetable gardens”. Bienville, therefore, caused
the first section of his land from just above Bienville Street, to the
lower limit of what was later Lafayette City to be known as his
“vegetable garden”. On the rest he settled German families in small
farms or plantations.

Some of these immigrant farmers were successful, but most succumbed to
the floods and the fevers. Others departed for healthier sections of
Louisiana. In 1728 the ax fell again on Bienville’s right to hold
property, and it was not until 1737, according to the best evidence,
that he succeeded in having his original claim, or what was left of it,
sustained. By that time, many parts of his original plantation had been
sold to new owners, some even having been sold by Bienville himself.
These tracts became proud plantations with lovely homes fronting the
river and extensive indigo, and later, sugar cane, fields running far to
the rear.

Five of these baronies were those of d’Hauterive, Broutin, Darby,
Carrière, and Livaudais, roughly situated between what was known as
Felicity Road and almost to Grand Route Wiltz (Louisiana Avenue).

These five plantations, called Faubourgs by the old French people,
gradually became consolidated into three small communities fronting on
the river, with residences built on lots into which the earlier farm
lands had been divided. The communities were called Nuns, Lafayette and
Livaudais. Then in 1833 these three communities joined forces to become
the city of Lafayette and were so incorporated by an act of the state
legislature.

Eleven years later, Lafayette annexed a small settlement on its upper
boundary, the Faubourg de Lassaiz, which extended the city to what is
now Toledano Street. Further expansion was blocked still later when the
citizens of the next upper community, Faubourg Plaisance, voted very
definitely _not_ to unite with Lafayette City.

Although the municipal personality called Lafayette City has
disappeared, the way of life it launched within the framework of greater
New Orleans will remain as long as there is a New Orleans. There was the
gay, industrious, hard-working, but pleasure-loving commercial part of
old Lafayette; and the spacious, gracious section of the great homes,
the ante-bellum and post-bellum houses of the area known as the Garden
District.

Why did the uppermost plantation of those which formed Lafayette City
become so desirable as a district of imposing and elaborate residences?

    [Illustration: Contemporary sketch of Mme. Livaudais’ house set in
    lovely garden. Plantation home was never completed. Ruins were
    removed in 1863.]

In the year 1816, the river crevassed at the Macarty plantation, several
miles upriver from the Livaudais property, and its waters inundated most
of the large holdings down to New Orleans. Among them was the great
plantation of Jacques François Esnould Dugué de Livaudais, whose father
and grandfather had been large landowners.

François de Livaudais had married just about the best catch any man
could aspire to: Célèste, the daughter of Philippe de Marigny, the
wealthiest man in Louisiana and perhaps one of the wealthiest men in all
America. The marriage represented the union of two vast fortunes, and
the couple began construction of the castellated, lavish plantation home
on their country domain.

Perhaps the floodwaters dampened their ardor for a castle on the
Mississippi to rival those of their ancestors in France. Perhaps it was
something else. In 1825 the Livaudais were separated. In the settlement,
Madame Livaudais received the plantation among other properties and
funds. She moved to Paris, where as La Marquise de Livaudais she cut a
wide swath, being among King Louis Philippe’s inner circle. Through her
New Orleans attorneys she sold her plantation to a group of real estate
entrepreneurs for $500,000. They engaged the eminent surveyor, Benjamin
Buisson, formerly an engineer of Napoleon’s army, to lay out the
plantation into streets and lots.

Thus from just below First Street to just above Ninth Street (now
Harmony) and from the river back to St. George Street (now La Salle)
this expanse of property, the original Faubourg Livaudais, was divided
into squares and placed on the market, with one exception. Madame
Livaudais retained the tract with her house on it, including her garden.

This is why the blocks between Washington Avenue and Sixth Street from
the river to La Salle Street are wider than the other blocks. They
follow the width of Mme. Livaudais’ house and grounds.

The house itself was never completed. For brief periods, members of the
Livaudais family appear to have lived in the habitable portions. It was
once used as a public ballroom, though which sections of it were
adaptable for that purpose have never been specified. Itinerant
wayfarers settled within its shambles as years passed. In 1861 it was
briefly converted into a plaster factory when that commodity became
scarce because of the Federal blockade. Two destitute, frail old crones
next made it their home. These female hermits, it was said, refused all
offerings of food or money. Little wonder that the ruin became “The
Haunted House of Lafayette”, until it was finally torn down in 1863.

The Livaudais plantation became a valuable part of Lafayette City at its
incorporation with the Faubourgs of Nuns and Lafayette in 1833. It
supplied, besides more river frontage, fine residential sites, covered
with the rich silt from the Macarty crevasse. It would indeed grow
anything, but particularly, flowers in profusion.

    [Illustration: Omnibus line using double-decker vehicles was the
    first means of transportation between New Orleans, Lafayette, via
    Tchoupitoulas.]

The fragrance and the variety of floral abundance evoked the paeans of
poet and author. It was natural that some of the wealthy “American”
families and later even a few Creoles should seek these new sites for
their great homes. An omnibus from New Orleans ran regularly out
Tchoupitoulas. The New Orleans and Carrollton Railroad, chartered by the
same session of the legislature which incorporated Lafayette, began
regular service from the heart of the growing business and financial
section in New Orleans proper up Nayades Street (now St. Charles Avenue)
right through this verdant section on its way upriver to the town of
Carrollton.

In 1834 a spur route turned off Nayades and came out Jackson Street to
the river, along Lafayette City’s most elegant thoroughfare. The wealthy
citizens of New Orleans and the successful merchants of Lafayette City
began to spread out in the section which quickly became known as the
Garden District. Although many fine homes were built on the outer
fringes of the quadrangle formed by Jackson and Louisiana Avenues and
Magazine Street and St. Charles Avenue, it is generally agreed today
that the Garden District lies within these boundaries. However, in the
1850’s the term was not so strictly applied and Josephine and Apollo
(Carondelet) Streets were included.

    [Illustration: First steam train of New Orleans and Carrollton
    Railroad on Nayades, now St. Charles Avenue, gave access to Garden
    District.]

The operator of this mule car branch railroad which first served
Lafayette City crosstown was the New Orleans and Carrollton Railroad
Company. In July, 1834, it was franchised to construct a “single railway
commencing from the intersection of Jackson and Nayades Streets into
said city running through Jackson to the site of the projected market
house, thence branching around said market house and running to the
river Mississippi.” The rate of travel could not, by law, exceed four
miles per hour.

    [Illustration: Quaint old picture from Stanton home on Jackson
    Avenue, with mule car going past Trinity Church towards St. Charles
    Avenue. Jackson has always been one of Garden District’s elegant
    streets.]

Historically, the Lafayette river front had long been the scene of
commerce. The succession of Spanish governors, who took over the colony
after 1763, failed to enforce the strict embargo against any but Spanish
vessels trading with New Orleans merchants. The British, under the
pretext of sailing their commercial vessels up the Mississippi past New
Orleans to their own colonies at Manchac, Baton Rouge and Natchez, would
tie up above New Orleans in the future Lafayette area, and carry on a
heavy trade in merchandise and slaves with the businessmen and planters
in and around the city. Directly across the river from the site of
Lafayette, in what is now Gretna, the audacious British maintained two
floating warehouses and even “built a warehouse on land to facilitate
the passage of the floating warehouses of their vessels” according to a
contemporary report.

We can visualize the busy river front at this point on the east bank,
with merchants plying back and forth in skiffs, and larger batteaux
bringing loads of the high quality English goods, including cloth,
cutlery, farming utensils—and slaves. New Orleans businessmen who dared
not indulge in this illicit trade protested to the Spanish authorities
who continued to wink at the British until the American revolution made
anti-British sympathies fashionable. Then Bernardo Galvez, the Spanish
governor, on April 17, 1777, seized the English boats and warehouses,
and the illegal trade stopped. But it is safe to assume that the
commercial identity of what became Lafayette’s riverfront persisted,
perhaps even its later competition with New Orleans having begun in that
early illicit trade.

The good business prospects in Lafayette caused men to say that the city
might possibly “capture” New Orleans some day. The Texas cattle trails
ended their long treks over the prairies at Gretna. Cattle boats brought
the Stock across the river to the slaughter houses with special landings
for the pounding, snorting beasts, skittering down the gangplanks into
the pens, as if entirely cognizant that the end of the trail had come
now for certain.

If one could stand the smell, it was a curious and exciting vista
watching the steamboats unload cattle at Lafayette. Satellite industries
lined the river front, the tallow renderers, the soap-boilers, the hide
merchants, the tanners, the disposers of unused parts, and the bone
grinders, whose odoriferous products made tasty vegetables and sweet
sugar cane grow, paradoxical as that seemed.

King Cotton considered the wharves at Lafayette one of his royal ports.
The puffing, graceful white swans of the Mississippi began to nudge the
rows of flatboats from the river front. In the Forties the city council
decreed exclusive facilities between First and Second Streets for
steamboats, with inclined landing areas. The city supplied heavy, thick
planks, bound on each end with iron bands and proudly branded “L”, for
the use of the steamboats calling at its wharves. By 1850 twenty piers
had been constructed to accommodate the packets.

The “breadbasket” of the upper valley dumped its cargoes at Lafayette
wharves also. The first grain elevator on the lower river was built at
the foot of Harmony Street. Flour was an important commodity, with busy
factors waiting to trade as the clumsy broadhorns, floating on the
current, edged into their moorings. So crowded were the flatboat
moorings—above Second Street—that flatboat captains received a $10 fine
for not immediately removing the large steering oars on each side.
Twenty-four hours was the time limit for unloading.

At first, 80-foot sections of the river front had been set aside for the
flatboats, once delivered of their cargoes, to be broken up. But this
became a nuisance, and by 1845, it was forbidden along the entire
Lafayette river front.

There was always a ready market for the timbers from broken up
flatboats, or “gunwales”, as the long, heavy fore-and-aft planks were
called. Many of the early houses were built of these excellent,
weathered timbers from the virgin forests of the upper valley. Most of
the streets of Lafayette, until after the mid-nineteenth century, were
“paved” with them, as were the sidewalks, or “banquettes”. The long
boards would not disappear so quickly into the mud, as would rocks and
bricks. Numerous cottages remaining in various sections of New Orleans
near the river are built of these sturdy, enduring timbers.

Lafayette City was a complete entity in every respect, with the
exception of a bank. There was a branch of the Carrollton Bank to serve
its citizens, at the corner of Jackson and Levee, but it was not their
own. No doubt a Bank of Lafayette was high on the list of these
enterprising citizens, when annexation took place.

    [Illustration: Row of buildings at Seventh and Laurel in 1866.
    Second from right is tannery. Note bridges over deep gutters. Some
    are still in use.]

James H. Caldwell, the theatrical impresario, entrepreneur, the man most
responsible for the development of the “American” section, the former
Faubourg Ste. Marie, left his enterprising mark on Lafayette. In 1847,
the City Council granted him the sole right of vending gas lighting
under the name of the Lafayette Gas Light Company. He could lay pipes
and conduits at the company’s expense in the city streets. For the
privilege, the company had to supply gas to public lamps throughout the
city as well as in public buildings at special rates. The first home
reported to have gas illumination was that of Mr. E. S. Miles on Nayades
(St. Charles) between Sixth and Seventh.

    [Illustration: This unique building housed the Sixth Precinct on
    Rousseau near Jackson, on site of earlier Jefferson Parish
    courthouse and prison. Egyptian style building still stands, now
    serves as city sign shop.]

Lafayette was the scene of a celebrated legal case involving large and
valuable sections of the city, second in local court annals only to the
Gaines litigation. The original name of the faubourg which later became
known as Lafayette was Faubourg Panis, after its owner, the Widow Panis.
She first had this property subdivided into lots and streets. Her
daughter Mme. Rousseau, a widow, inherited the faubourg. In 1818 she
sold the remaining property for $100,000 to John Poultney, who died
before he could pay for it. His creditors, who had advanced him part of
the money to make the purchase, paid the notes and proceeded to sell
lots in honest belief of clear title. Poultney’s wife, on behalf of
herself and her minor children, had renounced their rights to the
property. The name of the faubourg was changed at that time to
Lafayette, in honor of the French patriot who had visited New Orleans.

Later the Poultney heirs claimed that their tender age and legal
incapacity prevented them from accepting the property at the time of the
succession. The suit was instigated in 1832 and rambled through the
courts until 1855 when the United States Supreme Court upheld the
Louisiana tribunal against the plaintiffs. Interestingly, one of the
disappointed claimants was the then Major G. T. Beauregard, engineer in
charge of construction of the New Orleans Customhouse. Mrs. John
Poultney had been Emilie Toutant-Beauregard.

The city was not without its theatrical attractions. The only actual
theater built for stage presentations was the Lafayette on Rousseau
between Philip and Soraparu Streets. It was in the center of the block,
on the lake side, directly across from Terpsichore Hall, the favorite
_salle à danser_. The theater opened in late December, 1848, and
according to the _Statesman_, “has already increased property values
near it.” It had 100 feet of depth, was 55 feet wide, 40 feet high, and
its stage was 35 feet deep, said the newspaper account. Sol Smith, one
of the pioneer actors who penetrated the “frontier” communities from the
East, along with Noah Ludlow and his troupe, played the Lafayette and
left this comment, dated February, 1849:

“A theater in Lafayette, a suburb of New Orleans, was opened under the
management of Mr. Oliver this season. The prevalence of the cholera
blighted any prospects there might have been of success. This company
was composed principally of new beginners and their salaries were paid
in various commodities, such as the manager stipulated to receive of the
citizens for tickets. It was a stipulation in each article of agreement
(so the manager told me) that every actor should take a portion of his
salary in _coffins_, should he need any!—that is to say, if he should
die during the season, he should be _buried on account_; the style of
coffin, number of carriages, and so forth, to be regulated by the amount
due at the time of his demise.

“I had a fellow feeling for this manager, and when he asked me to act
one night for him, assuring me that I could fill the house at double
prices, I could not refuse him, though I doubted very much whether my
acting would add anything to his receipts. Manager Oliver was right,
however, and I had the pleasure of playing the _Mock Duke_ in the _Honey
Moon_ to one of the most crowded audiences I have ever acted to. Of
course, under the circumstances, I would take no pay for my night’s
services, though the grateful manager offered me a clear half of the
receipts.

“The season failed totally, the manager left for parts unknown and next
season, after a vain attempt by one Hickey to resuscitate the drama by
presenting some horrible representations (or misrepresentations rather)
of Yankee character, the theater took fire one day and was burned to the
ground. Lafayette is too near New Orleans to give an efficient support
to the theater.”

The earliest homes in Lafayette naturally were built on streets closest
to the river. As early as 1842, the crusty editor of the _Daily
Picayune_ in New Orleans was rhapsodic over the beautiful cottages in
Lafayette City with their handsome architecture and lovely gardens. The
_Lafayette Spectator_, by 1850, was equally enthusiastic. “The City of
Lafayette”, wrote John McMillin, “at no previous time could boast of so
many valuable buildings in progress as at present. Styles, finishes and
materials being so vastly improved.” The cottages were becoming mansions
at this point, getting away from the flatboat gunwales.

“Such is the demand for lots,” continued McMillin, “in the back part of
the city that they are selling for nearly double the price of those
three or four squares from the river. Lots on or near the railroad (St.
Charles Avenue) sell for $1,800. Those on Jersey (Annunciation), $800 or
$900. Cheapest lots are on Jersey and Laurel Streets.

“To become independent here,” he advised, “it is necessary to purchase a
few lots only, at a low rate and keep them a few years when the
fortunate owner finds himself well off in the world. We believe for the
next five years real estate will increase 20% per year.”

In 1852, Lafayette City counted a population of 12,651 with 1,539 slaves
added. This was short of the anticipated total because the city had just
come through a particularly devastating yellow fever epidemic in which
some 2,000 souls had been lost. One journalist felt that the census
takers had not been thorough in their tally.

The city burial grounds, the Lafayette Cemetery on Washington between
Coliseum and Prytania, laid out in 1833, was hard put to find space for
the bodies. Apparently most of the deceased were part of the huge
drifting population, newly arrived immigrants, the flatboatmen and
others, for only 389 citizens of Lafayette could be accounted for by the
census taker among those buried in the cemetery.

The prospects of the Garden District of Lafayette were also favorably
mentioned by the editor of the _Spectator_, a Whig newspaper published
there during the mid-century era:

“It is already the seat of fashionable residences. The property in the
rear of the district has been greatly sought by merchants and bankers
and professional men. Little or none has been held for speculation. It
will maintain its value.”

The appearance of the Greek Revival mansions now rising from the
vicinity of Nayades and in toward Magazine supported the claim that at
this time, New Orleans had more per capita wealth than New York.

It appears from the best sources that the first house of consequence to
be built in what is now the Garden District proper was that of Thomas
Toby in 1838. He came from Philadelphia, and his father’s ships brought
some of the materials for the house from his native city. This house is
still standing at Prytania and First Streets. Others who built in the
same general neighborhood in the following decade were F. B., T. B., and
Charles Conrad, P. N. Wood, Judge R. F. Ogden, Captain Thomas Ivey, and
Charles Briggs. The Fifties saw the greatest activity of construction of
the great houses of the Garden District.

This section, peopled as it was chiefly by those who conducted their
businesses in New Orleans, but who enjoyed the shaded gardens for their
residences, rapidly developed a life apart from the teeming waterfront
of Lafayette City. Inevitably a rivalry began. The catalyst was the
constant annoyance of pounding hooves and the odors of the
slaughterhouses and tanneries. Eventually, the early residents of the
Garden District were instrumental in getting the Lafayette City Council
to pass restrictive measures which removed the cattle landing. The
important commerce of this trade moved upriver to the neighboring town
of Jefferson, which caused the fiery editor of the _Spectator_, the
outspoken champion of the city’s growth, to howl from his columns that
the city had lost a million and a half dollars in trade a year by this
act.

He belabored particularly the aldermen from the “rear of the city” who
“turned up the whites of their eyes and stopped their delicate noses as
they passed by with their white gloves on and exclaimed, ‘What a
nuisance!’”

    [Illustration: Tomb of members of Jefferson Fire Company No. 22 in
    Lafayette Cemetery. “Ready at the First Sound” was motto. Relief
    shows 1832 engine.]

Despite these earmarks of a brewing donnybrook, one couldn’t exactly
blame the owners of the fine gardens for objecting to “the great numbers
of horses and mules running at large, particularly at night, occupying
the sidewalks to the danger of the passers-by and racing up and down
streets, disturbing the rest of the families.” Not only horses and
mules, but goats, too! “If a gate is left open for a minute, choice rose
bushes suffer and the rare plants of the most careful training are
ruined. Our feed stores are compelled to keep an extra clerk to protect
the corn sacks and bales of hay from these bold plunderers.” At least
there was a law passed in 1841 which prohibited the keeping of bears in
Lafayette City.

    [Illustration: One of Garden District’s great houses was the
    Stauffer mansion on Jackson, corner of Prytania, shown in Archives
    drawing dated 1870.]

In the early days of Lafayette and the Garden District, “the war”
referred only to the very real and fresh memories of Jackson’s battle
with the British at Chalmette hardly twenty years previously. In the
Forties, it referred to the War with Mexico, in which many Lafayette
citizens took part. Troops were encamped and trained on some of the
vacant lots. The Rev. Jerome Twichell held Presbyterian services for
them, and a government warehouse near the river on Washington dispensed
supplies to troops coming down the Mississippi for Mexican service.

Then, in 1861, “the war” took on a present and terrifying meaning.
Although no actual fighting was reported in or around the Garden
District, the coming and going of troops, the warships passing on the
river, the shortages because of the blockade, the restrictions of the
occupation, the loss of sons, brothers, husbands and fathers, the
surrender of proud homes for quartering of Union officers—these and
other tangible evidences left deep scars.

Perhaps the Garden District’s most distinguished and colorful figure to
wear the gray uniform was Bishop Leonidas Polk, bishop of the Episcopal
Diocese of Louisiana and rector of Trinity Church. A West Point
graduate, he answered the call to the priesthood in 1831. When war came,
after repeated urgings from his former West Point classmate, Jefferson
Davis, he “buckled the sword over the gown”, as he phrased it, and
accepted a commission as major general. In June, 1864, while he was
reconnoitering near Etowah, Ga., this gallant figure was stilled by a
cannon ball, leaving memories at Trinity which persist to this day.

After the war two other prominent figures in the Confederacy were
closely associated with the Garden District. Jefferson Davis often
visited his friend Judge Charles Fenner and died in the Fenner house on
the corner of First and Camp Streets. General John B. Hood, “The Gallant
Hood”, had his family home on the corner of Third and Camp.

    [Illustration: Bishop Leonidas Polk of Trinity Church became
    Confederate general.]

Calvary Episcopal Church’s resolute minister, the Rev. John Fulton, was
one of the three Episcopal ministers who defied General Benjamin “Silver
Spoons” Butler. In morning prayer this trio omitted the prayer for the
President of the United States and all in civil authority. They instead
invited their congregations to join in silent prayer. This enraged
Butler, and after several verbal altercations with them, he exiled the
group to a New York prison.

Butler quartered officers in several Garden District houses, including
that of General Wirt Adams on Chestnut and Josephine, now owned by
Trinity Church and called Copeland House. For his own use Butler cast
his covetous eye on the fabulous Washington Avenue “Italian villa” built
by James Robb and later owned and occupied by John Burnside, wealthy
merchant and planter. It is told that Butler and his retinue approached
the front door, to be met by Burnside. The Union general not only was
refused use of the house but was not even admitted. And the refusal
stuck. The reason: Burnside was a British citizen. So Butler took the
lovely home of Confederate (late U.S.A.) General David E. Twiggs, on
Camp near Calliope Street, which still stands today as St. Theresa’s
school.

The homes of the elite attracted their share of celebrities to the
hospitable, high-ceilinged drawing rooms and parlors, and to the dining
tables so immaculately set and served with viands to please a nabob.
Culture, travel and education were hallmarks of most of the inhabitants
of the great houses. Delightful, spirited discussions on a wide variety
of subjects kept visiting authors, poets, artists and correspondents for
the eastern magazines enthralled.

    [Illustration: House erected in 1860, said to have been built by
    James Robb for his daughter, at corner Washington, Camp.]

    [Illustration: House as it appears today, with galleries, ironwork
    added in 1870’s.]

Strangely, these distinguished writers and authors went back to their
offices in the East and proceeded to turn out bales of copy about New
Orleans but with only side references to the Garden District. Passing
mention was made of the luxury and beauty of the homes of this area, but
the French Quarter was the subject of all the sketches and engraved
illustrations. Rare is the surviving sketch, tintype or glass plate
photo of amateur or professional.

Yet the district captivated the earliest of many visitors who put their
sentiments down for posterity. The Rev. Theodore Clapp, beloved parson
of the mid-nineteenth century, wrote of his arrival in 1822, before
Lafayette was so named:

“On a beautiful morning near the close of February we were landed at
Lafayette where the boat stopped to discharge a part of her cargo, about
three miles above New Orleans. The passengers, impatient of delay,
concluded to walk to the city. Leaving the levee, we took a circuitous
route through unenclosed fields, which a few years before had belonged
to a large sugar plantation. They were adorned with a carpet of green
grass, where herds and flocks grazed in common. Here and there we passed
a farm house in the midst of gardens, luxuriant shrubbery and orange
groves.... The air was cool, inspiring and scented with the flowers of
early spring. The music of the thrush and various other species of
singing birds, saluted our ears with their sweetest notes. All things,
so far as our eyes could reach, seemed like a paradise. These suburbs,
then so radiant with rural charms, are now the site of a large portion
of the buildings belonging to New Orleans.”

Walt Whitman, a writer for the _New Orleans Crescent_ in 1848, living on
Washington Street near the river and travelling to and from his desk in
New Orleans by omnibus, must have been impressed by the large live oak
trees in Lafayette City. In a later edition of “Leaves of Grass”, he
refers to the live oak as “rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of
myself.”

Commenting on the ways one kept cool in summer, Julian Ralph, in _Dixie,
or Southern Scenes and Sketches_, related:

“... when I rode through the Garden District—the new part of the town—my
lady friends pointed to the galleries and said: ‘You should see them in
the summer, before the people leave or after they come back. The entire
population is out-of-doors in the air, and the galleries are loaded with
women in soft colors, mainly white. They have white dresses by the
dozen. They go about without their hats, in carriages and in street
cars, visiting up and down the streets. In-doors, one must spend one’s
whole time and energy in vibrating a fan.’”

Writing of the Garden District, Mark Twain said: “All the dwellings are
of wood ... and all have a comfortable look. Those in the wealthy
quarter are spacious; painted snowy white, usually, and generally have
wide verandas, or double-verandas, supported by ornamental columns.
These mansions stand in the center of large grounds and rise, garlanded
with roses, out of the midst of swelling masses of shining green foliage
and many-colored blossoms. No houses could well be in better harmony
with their surroundings, or more pleasing to the eye, or more home-like
and comfortable-looking....”

    [Illustration: “The galleries are loaded with women in soft colors,
    mainly white.”]

George Washington Cable, who is credited with introducing the French
Quarter’s charms to the world, was born on Annunciation Square, just
below Lafayette City and later grew up and spent many years in various
homes in the Garden District. Cable was internationally celebrated in
his day for his Creole stories. His house on Eighth Street, between
Chestnut and Coliseum, still standing today, was a mecca for visiting
authors. Public education had its start in Lafayette City shortly before
it was started in New Orleans. However, Cable gives a delightful glimpse
of the wild carefree youngsters of Lafayette in the 1830’s before the
free educational institutions were established:

    [Illustration: Mark Twain and George W. Cable posed for this picture
    during a lecture tour. Twain wrote of evening at Cable’s Eighth
    Street home.]

“... The mass of educable youth—the children who played ‘oats, peas,
beans’ with French, German and Irish accents, about the countless
sidewalk doorsteps of a city of one and two-story cottages (it was
almost such); the girls who carried their little brothers and sisters on
one elbow and hip and stared in at weddings and funerals; the boys whose
kite-flying and games were full of terms and outcries in mongrel French,
and who abandoned everything at the wild clangor of bells and ran to
fires where volunteer firemen dropped the hose and wounded and killed
each other in pitched battles; the ill-kept lads who risked their lives
daily five months of the year swimming in the yellow whirlpools of the
Mississippi among the wharves and flat-boats, who, naked and dripping,
dodged the dignified police that stalked them among the cotton bales,
who robbed mocking-birds’ nests and orange and fig trees, and trapped
nonpareils and cardinals, orchard-orioles and indigo-birds in the
gardens of Lafayette and the suburban fields—these had not been reached
and had not been sought by the educator.”

Visualize Twain, Cable and Charles Dudley Warner of _Harper’s Magazine_
at Cable’s Eighth Street home. Add Lafcadio Hearn and Joel Chandler
Harris for very good measure. You have the principals of a scene which
actually took place, well documented by Cable’s children who were also
present as youngsters, and described delightfully by Mark Twain in _Life
on the Mississippi_. Briefly, Twain, Warner and Hearn had come to join
the host in welcoming the famous “Uncle Remus”. A literary evening
ensued, but to the dismay of the children, not only was “Uncle Remus”
white, but he didn’t _talk_ the dialect of which he was the undisputed
master. Harris was so very shy that Twain read the “Tar Baby” for him to
assuage the feelings of the disappointed youngsters. Then the authors
read from their own works; Cable played his guitar and sang his
celebrated Creole songs. Twain’s amusing passage describing the scene
has an equally humorous sketch showing himself reading while the others
are sound asleep.

    [Illustration: Lovely raised cottage on Eighth Street was Cable’s
    home, scene of many literary gatherings during late 19th century in
    New Orleans.]

Great sports figures knew the Garden District. The Southern Athletic
Club, at Washington Avenue and Prytania Street, now Behrman Gymnasium,
was a center of athletic endeavor for the elite of the area, and its
volunteer military units had headquarters there. Among the sports
luminaries who used its facilities was the great Jake Kilrain. He
trained there in 1889 for his bout with John L. Sullivan at Richburg,
Miss. In 1892 “Gentleman Jim” Corbett trained there for his celebrated
fight with Sullivan at the Olympic Club, and to the Southern he returned
triumphant for a victory celebration. The S.A.C. had New Orleans’ first
Turkish bath. In 1878, the Lawn Tennis Club had the city’s first tennis
court at Jackson Avenue and Prytania.

The most discussed showplace in an area of palatial homes was the
Renaissance-inspired house of James Robb on Washington Street, now
Avenue. His dream house deserved all the adjectives lavished upon it.
The one-story brick and plaster mansion was surrounded by gardens
rivalling those of Europe’s royal estates. He brought over a German
gardener to design and maintain them. Statuary by European and American
masters embellished the grounds.

Some contemporary observers found the severe classical exterior a bit
plain, but inside there was a lavishness of detail which made even these
carpers wax enthusiastic. The house contained frescoes by the celebrated
Dominique Canova, priceless European pictures, furniture, rugs and
objects. The most famous art work was probably Hiram Powers’s _Greek
Slave_, the daring marble beauty which had shocked New York. Robb
allowed it to be exhibited in several cities before bringing it to his
home. Everywhere it aroused controversy. Today it is in Washington’s
Corcoran Gallery of Art.

Robb, millionaire businessman, president of the first trunk line
railroad to New Orleans, the New Orleans, Jackson and Great Northern
(later part of the Illinois Central) lost his fortune and in 1860 the
great house which had been dubbed “Robb’s Folly” was acquired by another
millionaire, John Burnside. Under his ownership the beauties of the
dwelling were preserved. The noted octagonal room, decorated in the
Pompeian fashion, with its arrangement of mirrors which reflected the
scene _ad infinitum_, continued to excite admiration.

In 1890, Mrs. Josephine Newcomb purchased the three-acre square and its
buildings for the girls’ college which she had endowed some years
before. In converting it into a school, great care was taken to preserve
the architectural beauty. When Newcomb College moved to its present
campus in 1918, the old campus was acquired by the Baptist Bible
Institute, later the Baptist Theological Seminary. They used the site
until 1955, when they, too, moved to larger quarters. The Baptists
extended Conery Street through the square, divided the property into
lots, and sold them. Fine new homes have arisen there.

The people of Lafayette were notably deep in their religious faiths and
in love for their fellow men. This is shown by their early church
organizations, by their solicitation for the welfare of the indigent and
the orphans of the immigrants devastated by cholera and yellow fever
epidemics, and by their inauguration of public education, lyceum
programs and a library.

It is interesting to note that, with the background of Germans and
Irish, it was a Protestant church which first was erected for a
Lafayette City congregation. In a building on St. Mary Street, near
Fulton (now St. Thomas), as early as 1831 the Methodists were meeting.
Some 10 years later the same denomination built a new church on Magazine
Street out of flatboat gunwales, and this was known for years as the
“Flatboat Church”. Later it became identified with a young pastor,
Elijah Steele, who had died of yellow fever. As Steele’s Chapel it
united with the St. Mary Street Church and the Andrew Chapel, which had
been built on Dryades and Felicity in 1835, to form the Felicity
Methodist Church.

Although a parish was chartered for Lafayette Roman Catholics in 1836,
they had no church and no priest until 1843. That year Father Peter
Chakert, of the Redemptorist order, gathered the faithful in Kaiser’s
Hall on Chippewa and Josephine Streets for masses on Sunday morning
after the past evening’s dance had ceased. The following year saw the
start of their first church on Josephine Street, St. Mary’s Assumption.
This lovely little wooden chapel, with its bell which was cast at Des
Allemands, was later replaced by the present structure. However, the
first building is still standing, moved to St. Joseph’s cemetery on
Washington Avenue, where it serves, all white and clean, as a mortuary
chapel, 117 years old.

St. Mary’s Assumption first served all the Roman Catholics of Lafayette
with sermons alternating in German, French and English. In 1850 St.
Alphonsus Church was completed across the Street, chiefly for the Irish,
and nine years later, this remarkable tri-lingual parish opened a church
for the French people on Jackson Avenue. This was taken down in 1925,
but is perpetuated in the Chapel of Our Mother of Perpetual Help at
Third and Prytania, the old Lonsdale-McStea house.

    [Illustration: Surveyor’s drawing of Livaudais Plantation, or
    “Faubourg”, divided into squares for sale of lots following purchase
    from Mme. Livaudais. She retained square with her house and garden,
    near river. Note how this square governed size of entire row of
    squares, as they are today.]

            A SKETCH OF THE PLAN OF THE FAUBOURG LIVAUDAIS,
_Drawn at the request of_ Messrs. L. PEIRCE, W. H. CHASE, M. MORGAN and
                             S. J. PETERS,
    By B. BUISSON, Surveyor for the Parish of Jefferson—March, 1832.
               PRINTED BY BENJAMIN LEVY, CHARTRES-STREET.

The year 1840 saw the Presbyterians organized in Lafayette City under
the popular Rev. Jerome Twichell. Their church, completed in 1843, on
Fulton between Josephine and Adele, was also occasionally used by the
Society of Friends. Henry Clay attended services once in the church soon
after it was opened. The Prytania Presbyterian Church, where George W.
Cable worshipped and sang in the choir, was founded in 1846.

Episcopal services began in a room on the corner of Washington and
Laurel streets in 1847. Later that year, construction started for the
Church of the Holy Trinity at the corner of Live Oak (now Constance) and
Second streets. In 1851, the Rev. Alexander F. Dobb, a dynamic
churchman, began working for the construction of a handsome new edifice
at Jackson and Coliseum Streets. Trinity Church, as its name was
shortened, was occupied in 1853. Unfortunately, Mr. Dobb and his wife
died in the tragic yellow fever epidemic of that year and never saw the
completed church.

Congregation Gates of Prayer, the Jewish synagogue, originally
worshipped in a building near the corner of Sixth and Tchoupitoulas
Streets, but in 1854 it moved to a building, still standing though no
longer used for that purpose, on Jackson Avenue.

Missions for the German Protestants were provided by the Evangelical,
Methodist, Presbyterian and Episcopal churches in various locations.

Lafayette City is no more. Its heritage is two-fold: the sturdy
Irish-German stock of its riverfront section; and the great houses and
cultural heritage of the Garden District, its fine residential section.
Of the former, volumes could be written; of the latter, the following
pages will attempt to touch the high spots. If this small book
encourages the reader to visit the scenes described, if it provides a
setting for the better appreciation of the great houses, the many hours
of patient research and writing will be well rewarded.

    [Illustration: Mansion on Prytania, between Philip and Jackson,
    typifies great days of Garden District, was once home of authoress,
    historian Grace King.]

    [Illustration: Frances Jones was Miss King’s illustrator.]



                        LOUISE S. McGEHEE SCHOOL
                          2343 Prytania Street


    [Illustration: LOUISE S. McGEHEE SCHOOL]


_The Main Building_

Formerly one of the most lavish private homes in the Garden District,
this mansion now serves as the main building of the Louise S. McGehee
School, for almost half a century one of the outstanding private schools
for girls in the South. Amid architectural surroundings which bespeak a
bygone age of leisure, work and study now prevail as the students pursue
their exacting college preparatory curriculum.

Designed in the splendid free Renaissance style by James Freret, the
mansion was constructed in 1872 for Bradish Johnson, a young man of
wealth and discrimination whose family fortune was based on sugar
plantations. Its erection marked the second great period of affluence
for the Garden District. According to tradition it was built at a cost
of one hundred thousand dollars and its furnishings were as lavish as
the house itself. Always beautifully maintained by the Johnsons and the
Walter Denègre family, its later owners, the architectural features of
the building have been carefully preserved by the school corporation. Of
undiminished loveliness are the fluted Corinthian columns, lofty
ceilings and elaborate moldings embellished with classical motifs. An
outstanding feature of the building is the winding staircase which rises
at the rear of the marble-floored entrance hall. This stairway of
unsurpassed beauty has been frequently honored as a masterpiece of
design and craftsmanship.

A curious fact about the building is that neither a marriage, a birth,
nor a death has ever taken place within its walls. However, since its
acquisition by McGehee school in 1929 it has been the scene of many
scholastic triumphs. The school features an honor system and student
self government, the first high school in the city to establish this
type of government. Nearly all of the school’s graduates have gone to
college and most of the alumnae are active in civic affairs.

    [Illustration: Magnificent spiral staircase in marble-floored
    central hall of former Bradish Johnson mansion has mahogany railing,
    stained glass skylight. Johnson fortune was based on large sugar
    plantations. City house was showplace.]

A stroll around the grounds on the First Street side gives a good view
of the former servants’ wing, which extends to the rear, looking today
much as it did when the house was new. The beautiful grounds are
particularly lovely in the spring when myriads of azaleas are in bloom
as well as the large wisteria vine which drapes the arch of the front
gate. Aged and majestic are the many magnolia trees, the largest of
which some years ago was declared by E. H. Sargent, then curator of the
Arnold Arboretum, to be the most magnificent specimen of _magnolia
grandiflora_ in the United States.

Provision for fine private education for girls has long been a tradition
in the Garden District. By a strange coincidence, three of the earlier
schools were within the immediate neighborhood of what is now McGehee
School, and one of these was on the very spot.

In 1853 the Reverend William Duncan, later a professor of Greek and
Latin at the University of Louisiana, opened the Young Ladies’ Seminary
on the corner of Jackson and Prytania Streets. The seminary offered what
was for that time quite an impressive curriculum in languages, arts and
physical sciences.

Little is known today about the Carnatz Institute, a “fashionable
academy for young ladies”, which in the 1860’s occupied a substantial
brick cottage on the present site of McGehee School. This corner of
First and Prytania streets had been one of the first settled in this
part of Lafayette. Here Charles Conrad, one of a prominent family of
lawyers, had his cottage. Nearby were the houses of Alfred T. and Frank
Conrad, also barristers. Sometime later General W. R. Miles was said to
have owned the Conrad house which subsequently became the Carnatz
Institute. In addition to day students this school attracted boarding
students from Mississippi, Alabama and Texas. The Institute was
advertised as having a “healthy and secluded location with spacious
rooms and shaded grounds.” It is not known whether the academy moved or
was disbanded when Bradish Johnson bought the property and removed the
old house to make way for his new mansion.

Of more recent vintage was the school of Mrs. Francis D. Blake which was
located in a large gray house, now demolished, on the downtown lake
corner of Prytania and Philip Streets. Mrs. Blake, a daughter of the
famous Bishop Leonidas Polk, was assisted in running the school by her
sister, Mrs. Lucia Chapman. This school of Sally Polk Blake is of more
than passing interest because in the last years of the school the
English teacher was the youthful Miss Louise Schaumburg McGehee. When
the doors of Mrs. Blake’s were closed, parents of undergraduates asked
Miss McGehee if she would undertake to run a school for their daughters.

In 1912 Miss McGehee began her school in a small cottage on Louisiana
Avenue near St. Charles. The following year the school moved to more
commodious quarters at 1439 Louisiana Avenue. Assuming corporate status
in 1929, the school purchased the Johnson-Denègre house and moved to its
present location. The carriage house of this mansion was converted into
a gymnasium and the stable into a cafeteria.

A program of growth and expansion was undertaken in 1953-54 with the
construction of a new building containing elementary classrooms and an
assembly room. By 1960 McGehee School had acquired adjoining properties
which complete the school’s ownership of the entire Prytania Street
frontage on the lake side of the 2300 block. Plans begun in that year
call for the construction of a lower elementary building, new cafeteria
and gymnasium and a studio-laboratory wing to the upper school building.
This project will be financed by a drive for capital funds, launched in
1961.

During its history, McGehee’s has seen changes not only in its physical
plant but also in its organizational structure. In 1937 the school was
re-incorporated as a non-profit institution, which status it has today.



                        HARRY MERRITT LANE HOUSE
                           1238 Philip Street


    [Illustration: HARRY MERRITT LANE HOUSE]

The classic Greek Revival Style and all that typifies antebellum life in
the South are to be found in the stately Lane home. The handsome
two-story-and-attic brick building with its front and side verandas was
built in 1853-54 for John H. Rodenberg, a dealer in feeds. In addition
to the stunning front portico, the view from the corner reveals the
charm of the Chestnut Street elevation with the gently undulating effect
achieved by the juxtaposition of a pair of shallow bays.

In the years after it was built, the mansion was the residence of the
Hardie and Brooks families and for more than 50 years was known to New
Orleans society as the Pipes house. For many years it was the home of
the late Federal Judge Wayne G. Borah and his family, Mrs. Borah being
the granddaughter of Mr. and Mrs. David W. Pipes. In 1969 the house was
purchased by Mr. and Mrs. Harry Merritt Lane, Jr., who have preserved
all the notable traditional features of the house while adapting the
rear section to accommodate the needs of their active young family of
four.

The substantial methods of construction used by early builders resulted
in the brick-bearing walls being 18 inches thick. The 14-foot-high
ceilings are typical of houses of the period as is the Victorian parlor,
18 by 40 feet in size. The two large crystal chandeliers in this room
are reflected in gold leaf mirrors over the twin white marble mantels.
Lovely traditional furnishings complete the picture.

The cypress woodwork, doorframes in the so-called “keyhole” design,
bronze doorknobs, and heart pine floors are in the best traditions of
buildings of the period.

One of the focal points of the patio is a curious bit of Southern
Americana, a plant bed made from the brick foundation of an old cistern
where rainwater was collected. Every house had one or more of these
tanks, made of wood and usually painted green. As a rule the cistern
stood quite high, built upon a stilt-like frame, and was located in
plain view near the back corner of the house. The sight prompted Mark
Twain to write, “There is a mansion-and-brewery suggestion about the
combination.”

Here in the garden are many rare varieties of old camellias, grown from
cuttings by Mrs. Pipes, who brought them from her family home in the
Feliciana section of Louisiana more than fifty years ago. In addition to
these fine specimens, this lovely Southern garden abounds in other
interesting plant materials. Around the pond are plants of Creole
boxwood (_Buxus japonicus_) which were propagated many years ago to
supply the beautiful box hedge which flourishes on the property. The
very tall palm tree is one of the few remaining in the Garden District
where once they were plentiful, as old pictures show. Hurricanes, time
and freezes cut down their numbers. On this tree grows a spreading
wisteria vine which seems a shower of lavender in the spring.

Notable also are the sweet olive trees, crape myrtle, pear, Japanese
plum (loquat) and coral tree (_Erythrina Cristagalli_). The latter is
nicknamed locally the “crybaby tree” because at certain times the
flowers emit a colorless fluid reminding some of tears. Contributing a
tropical touch are the showy bougainvillea which climbs the side of the
house, and the Hawaiian ti plant.

    [Illustration: Semi-octagonal bay with decorative iron railing, twin
    chimneys of massive gable, are architectural features of south side
    of Lane house.]



                  FORMER HARRIS-MAGINNIS-CRASSON HOUSE
                          2127 Prytania Street


    [Illustration: FORMER HARRIS-MAGINNIS-CRASSON HOUSE]

As this edition goes to press, preservationists are fighting to stay the
demolition of this handsome raised cottage. Its interesting and varied
history dates from 1857-58 when it was erected for Alexander Harris, a
cotton broker. In 1871 it was sold to John H. Maginnis, whose family
lived there for many years. It was the local headquarters for the
American Red Cross from 1939 until 1954 when it was purchased by Dr. and
Mrs. Clyde Crasson, who restored the building to its original beauty as
a home.

The well proportioned lines of the Greek Revival mansion were designed
by James Calrow, who, with his partner Mr. Day, also served as builder.
Although the three fine houses he designed during this period show
Calrow to have been a man of unquestionable talents, he is otherwise
unknown to architectural historians.

Symmetry and grace characterize the imposing portico with its eleven
Corinthian columns, echoed by the capitals of the pilasters flanking the
front door. While construction of this house was under way in 1858, an
interested spectator of its progress was T. K. Wharton, one of the
architects of the customhouse. In his diary, now in the New York Public
Library, he notes on February 10 of that year that this house “promises
to be the handsomest piece of work in the District.” Its style, he later
remarked, is “rich Corinthian, very handsome.”

The broad gallery, so typical of the Garden District, is also
embellished with the popular grillwork, “iron lace” as it is sometimes
called. An astonishing diversity of ironwork patterns is to be seen in
the area. This particular design of fruit and flowers is a fine example
of both single- and double-faced cast iron used in alternation.

Proceeding up the broad, high flight of center stairs, the visitor
crosses the wide veranda and reaches the handsome front door, which in
its carved basket of fruit ornamentation repeats one of the motifs of
the grillwork. An old-fashioned pull type of doorbell announces a
caller. Inside one enters a center hall of breath-taking proportions.
Within its area of 67 feet by 12 feet could be placed several rooms of a
modern development house. Here again we find the reflection of the
classic revival in the elaborate plaster work of cornices and ceiling.

On the right of the entrance hall is a large drawing room of the type
called “double parlor” because of the suggested separation into two
rooms, each of which was treated identically and had matching mantels. A
balanced spacing of all openings in the room plus the treatment of
windows as doors in the French mode give harmony to the room. Both
mantels are of black and gold Italian marble with bronze trim. The front
mantel features the _fleur de lis_ of France while the companion mantel
has the crossed bows of Louis XVI and the roses of Marie Antoinette.
Both fireplaces are backed with black iron embossed with the _fleur de
lis_ design.

Across the hall is the dining room, which is lighted by the original gas
chandelier, now wired for electricity. Here the graceful mantel is of
white marble. Directly behind this room the Crassons have installed a
family room kitchen in the early American style. Originally the kitchen
was outside, as was the custom of that day, but the present owners made
a more convenient arrangement for modern living by this relocation. The
comfortable sitting room has a black and gold mantel with the same Louis
XVI motifs as one in the drawing room.

No trace of the original garden which extended to Jackson Avenue
remained when the Crassons purchased the property. They are now in the
process of restoring this corner to some of its former beauty. In the
front of the house, however, huge oaks and palms remain from the past.
According to reliable sources, these massive oaks were planted as young
saplings on September 14, 1874, the day the carpet baggers were driven
out of New Orleans.

    [Illustration: Double doors, ten feet tall, are natural cypress.
    Corinthian capitals of pilasters, molded plaster cornices are
    typical parlor details.]



                       ATWOOD L. RICE, JR. HOUSE
                           1220 Philip Street


    [Illustration: ATWOOD L. RICE, JR. HOUSE]

While it was the home of Isaac Delgado, this exquisite dwelling housed
the art collection which became the nucleus of our city’s art museum.
Although this is one of the largest houses in the Garden District, a
delicacy of proportion and the tree-shaded garden within which it stands
serve to minimize its great bulk. A good notion of its size can be
obtained from counting the many chimneys which rise from the slate roof.
Constructed entirely of wood, it exemplifies the style developed locally
just before the War Between the States. Here we find the characteristic
fluted Corinthian columns used on both upper and lower galleries and
linked by iron grillwork. Gracefully curved upper portions of windows
and shutters lend a note of harmony. The semi-octagonal bay which
extends on the north side of the house was once the dining room but was
transformed into a bar and kitchen in recent years. The north wing of
the house has also been converted into a separate _maisonette_.

Little is known about the construction of the house. It was built in the
late 1850’s for Mrs. Augustin Marius Tureaud, believed to have been the
daughter of James Mather, who was mayor of New Orleans in 1810. In 1866
the house was sold at auction to Trinity Episcopal Church for use as a
rectory. For some reason this purpose apparently was never carried out,
and the house was sold again in 1868 to Samuel and Sarah Delgado for
$12,400.

Samuel Delgado was a prosperous sugar and molasses broker. Childless, he
and his wife took into their home their fourteen-year old nephew, Isaac
Delgado, who came from Jamaica. Apparently having exceptional business
aptitude, the boy entered the world of commerce almost immediately. In a
few years he began amassing the fortune he was to use for charitable
purposes. Long before his death Delgado, a bachelor, gave away huge
sums. He donated his art collection and $150,000 to erect the Delgado
Museum of Art in City Park. It was completed in 1911 and the old man was
quite disappointed that ill health prevented his attending the
dedication ceremonies. On his death in 1912, he left his millions for
hospitals and the trade school which bears his name. His home he
bequeathed to the city. For a brief period it served as the British
Consulate, and then in 1920 it was sold to David Pipes, who owned the
fine house next door which is now the Lane home. Present owners are Mr.
and Mrs. Atwood L. Rice, Jr. who purchased the house in 1972 from Mr.
and Mrs. John R. Fitz-Hugh. Charmingly furnished, this house is a fine
example of how an early Victorian mansion can be adapted to modern
living.

The beautifully landscaped garden is planned to feature color in the
spring with a predominantly green effect for the hot summer months.
Across the front of the yard is a hedge of white camellia sasanquas.
From front to back on both sides, the garden is bordered with dwarf
azaleas which range in color from deep red (Hexie and Henodegeri) to
pinks (Pink Pearl and Coralbells) in the center to white (Snow) in the
rear. The large azaleas in the side garden are Pride of Mobile. Among
the other plants are camellia, crape myrtle, cocculus, cherry laurel,
pear and wild plum, many of which are grouped around an inviting patio.

    [Illustration: Charming patio of Rice house adjoins comfortable open
    porch which is shaded with colorful green and white striped canvas
    curtains.]



                          THOMAS JORDAN HOUSE
                           1415 Third Street


    [Illustration: THOMAS JORDAN HOUSE]

This great mansion on the corner of Third and Coliseum streets is an
outstanding example of the age of opulence. Designed by an unknown
architect, the house was completed in 1865 for Walter Robinson, a young
Virginian who came to this city to buy Cuban wrappers for cigars and to
purchase perique, an especially fine type of tobacco which to this day
is grown only in St. James Parish of Louisiana.

The house’s second owner, David C. McCan, a native of Cincinnati, is
remembered for his philanthropy and civic endeavor. Third occupant was
Peter Pescud of Raleigh, North Carolina. His wife, Margaret C. Maginnis,
who reigned in 1874 as the second queen of the New Orleans Carnival,
made it a center of gay social activity.

Douglass Freret assisted the present owner, Thomas Jordan, Esq., with a
fine restoration.

Viewed from the street, the house presents an impressive sight. The
unknown architect set it far back on the lot, sideways to the street,
with a Palladian carriage house and iron gates. The impressive scale of
the house results from stories of equal height, 15 feet, 8 inches.
Double galleries with curved ends adorn the façade. These feature Doric
columns below and Corinthian above. Linking the columns are panels of
cast iron in a pattern somewhat heavier than usual, which admirably
blends with the feeling of solidity which the building gives. On the
southern exposure are double galleries framed in ironwork of a lacy
design, which effectively lightens and gives delicacy to the whole. Not
to be overlooked is the iron fence which, with its handsome shell
motifs, contributes to the effect of beauty.

Detailing of the interior, with its elaborate carved door and window
trim, fine plaster cornices and ceiling centerpieces, and especially the
superb winding staircase, is among the most elaborate in the city. All
the rooms are palatial, furnished with choice antiques, many the work of
America’s foremost cabinet makers.

Painted ceilings are features of both living and dining rooms, that of
the latter executed with great delicacy after the manner of Robert Adam.
The wallpaper in the dining room is the famous Züber 1834 “Scenic
America”. The chimney piece of this room was designed to contain a
wooden eagle found at the mouth of the Mississippi after a hurricane.
Carved from cypress, it is believed to be the sternboard of a pilot boat
built in Charleston at the time of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803.

A fascinating fact about this house is that it was said to be among the
first in the city to have inside plumbing, water being supplied from
cisterns on the roof, which also provided protection from fire.

    [Illustration: Jordan house dining room has painted ceiling, pressed
    glass chandelier.]



                         THOMAS B. FAVROT HOUSE
                           1448 Fourth Street


    [Illustration: THOMAS B. FAVROT HOUSE]

During the fabulous 1850’s when splendid mansions were rising all
through the Garden District, no structure was larger or finer than this
important house. Although usually identified as the “house with the
cornstalk fence”, this house has other features to recommend it.

The tremendous size, the asymmetrical design and the beautiful iron work
galleries on front and sides make it an unusual structure. Designing
during a period when romanticism was the ascendant trend in arts and
letters, the architect Henry Howard turned to the Italian villa style,
which he skillfully adapted to the hot and humid New Orleans climate.
Built in 1859 for Colonel Robert Henry Short, a Kentucky colonel, the
house cost the wealthy commission merchant $23,750. Cost of duplication
today would be impossible to estimate.

The mansion presents an exterior which, except for the classical
pilasters of the entrance doorway, is a radical departure from the then
prevalent Greek Revival. Howard’s expertness in the latter form at this
period had been demonstrated in the recently completed Belle Grove
plantation at Bayou Goula, one of the most magnificent of all the
plantation houses. Some of the features of the Belle Grove plan he used
again for Colonel Short. Despite the Italian façade beautifully allied
with New Orleans’ beloved iron lace, the interior of the house adhered
strictly to the Greek Revival in woodwork and ornamentation. Marvels of
workmanship are the handsomely carved door and window frames and the
decorated plaster cornices and ceiling centerpieces.

The usual double parlors are found to the left of the entrance hall, but
in this instance they are not identical rooms. The rear one extends
farther into the side yard in a curved bay with an iron work gallery
outside. Giving an idea of the magnificent scale of the house are the
approximate dimensions of the parlors, which at their greatest points
measure 43 by 26 feet. The ceilings are 16 feet high.

Across from the back parlor is a library which extends out in a similar
manner on the Prytania Street side. The wide entrance hall is met at the
rear of the parlors and library by a large cross hall which contains the
stairway. This is of oak, evidently not the original since that kind of
wood was not used for buildings in this locality at that period. This
was one of many alterations made by one or both of the subsequent
owners: Miss Mary Morgan, who bought it in 1892 from Short’s succession;
or Abraham Brittin, cotton broker, who acquired it in 1906.

Around the turn of the century other changes had been made in a
determined effort to wipe out every vestige of the neo-classic. Deep red
brocade was applied to the walls, and in one room the ceiling was
painted red. All woodwork was painted a gloomy brown with imitation wood
grain, while simulated wall panelling was used to change the character
of other rooms.

Some of the changes, however, were not as heavy and unattractive to
present day tastes. The already commodious dining room was further
enlarged with a delightful semicircular bay on the Prytania Street end,
and with an extremely decorative arcaded conservatory with open terrace
at the other end of the room.

Under the sympathetic restoration of Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Jay Moran,
oppressive dreary paint gave way to light cheerful colors and spurious
panelling was torn down with a feeling of expansive grace regained. In
1971 the house was purchased by Mr. and Mrs. Thomas B. Favrot, for whose
large family it is a handsome and congenial setting.

Outside, the distinctive fence of morning glories intertwining
cornstalks which was falling to pieces in 1950 when the Morans bought
the house, has been restored. When the repairs were underway, an exposed
base of a fence post revealed that the iron work was supplied by Wood
and Perot, the famous Philadelphia foundry. Through the local agents,
Wood and Miltenberger, this firm supplied a good percentage of the cast
iron used in New Orleans. It is likely that the “iron lace” galleries on
this house were also their work.

    [Illustration: Curved bay window at Prytania Street end of
    tremendous dining room in Favrot house is Newport style feature
    added near turn of century.]



                            BRYAN BELL HOUSE
                           1331 Third Street


    [Illustration: BRYAN BELL HOUSE]

Iron lace, delicate but dramatic, casting lovely shadows across the
façade of the Bell house, has made this a favorite “shot” for
photographers, both amateur and professional. These cast iron galleries,
often called the finest in the city, make the house eye-catching, but
locally it is also famous for its associations with the New Orleans
family of the French painter Edgar Degas.

In 1850 Michel Musson, a prominent cotton merchant and postmaster of New
Orleans from 1849 to 1853, purchased the site and is said to have
commissioned James Gallier, Sr., to design his dwelling. Construction
was soon completed on this interpretation in wood of a formal Italian
villa, as its style has been defined by Samuel Wilson, Jr., local
architectural historian. Certainly in those days the designation would
have been more appropriate than now, the famous ironwork having been
added in 1884. The original Gallier plan had two bay windows on the
front, similar to one on the garden side of the house, with canopies
such as are on the Coliseum Street side protecting the upper windows.
The bracketed overhang of the roof on both sides is Italianate in
feeling.

    [Illustration: Rare daguerreotype shows Bell house before grillwork
    was added. Mansion had Italian villa influence, bay windows, shaped
    canopies.]

In 1869 the house was sold to James Buckner, who in turn sold it in 1884
to Charles M. Whitney. In addition to altering the front of the house,
Whitney also added the Victorian stables which are still preserved
complete with brass name plates on the former stalls of his favorite
horses, Momus, Comus and Twenty-one. The last was named for a favorite
riverboat gambling game. At the rear of the property is a garçonnière
(literally “house of the boys”) which is original, as is the ornamental
iron fence.

The house is now the property of Mr. and Mrs. Bryan Bell who have
furnished it with an excellent collection of antiques and paintings.

As a visitor enters the house, he is at once captivated by the graceful
curved stairs, typical of Gallier’s work. This is of the unsupported or
free-hanging type. Throughout the house, woodwork of door and window
frames is of the famous neo-classic design, popularly called the
“keyhole design”, which owes its inspiration to the vogue for Egyptian
styles which followed Napoleon’s campaigns in that country. The lovely
living room cornices are of plaster, set out from the wall at a slight
angle with an openwork design which gives them the local name of “double
transparencies”. The wide board floors are heart of pine, sun-cured
instead of kiln-dried which gave great durability to the wood.

Lovers of the unusual are always fascinated by the handcarved teakwood
mantel in the living room. Added by the Whitneys, it has a secret
compartment on either side.

An unusual feature of the house is the huge dining room, which, despite
its twin mantels, was always a single room. The large Musson family and
the many friends they entertained dictated a dining room of tremendous
proportions. The identical bronze chandeliers were originally for gas
but later were wired for electricity. Mrs. Whitney, however, not fully
trusting the new-fangled electricity, prudently had only half the arms
wired. The rest she kept for gas “just in case”.

The spacious side garden of the Bell home uses many typical Southern
materials bordering a wide sweep of green lawn. The towering palm is a
species of date palm tree. On the trellises by the house are Carolina
jasmine (_Gelsemium sempervirens_) vines. At the corner of the house is
a large golden dewdrop (_Duranta repens_), a showy shrub which has
bright yellow berries and racemes of small lilac flowers, frequently at
the same time. Near this spot is a Lady Banksia rose (_Rosa Banksiae_),
for many years a New Orleans springtime favorite. In summer the famous
“Whitney pink” oleanders are especially striking. This variety was
propagated by Mrs. Whitney’s gardener and is now one of the most popular
in the Crescent City.

    [Illustration: Molded plaster cornices are set out from wall in
    style locally called “double transparency”.

This type of work is typical of that done by European artisans who
decorated many great Garden District homes.]



                       ADELAIDE L. BRENNAN HOUSE
                          2507 Prytania Street


    [Illustration: ADELAIDE L. BRENNAN HOUSE]

Nearly a century after it was built, this vast mansion, a newspaper
editor’s dream house, almost made the front page when a raging fire
gutted the interior and threatened destruction. Fortunately the house
withstood good times and bad, hurricanes and fire, and stands today
lovingly restored.

The quarter square of land at the corner of Prytania and Second Streets
was purchased in June, 1852, by Joseph H. Maddox, owner of the _New
Orleans Daily Crescent_, a prominent newspaper of the period. Plans for
his new residence were made by a local architect, John Barnett, and in
August of that year a contract for construction was signed with John R.
Eichelberger. As was often the case in those days, a different architect
was employed to supervise the construction. Edward Gotthiel was selected
for this job.

Unfortunately, soon after its completion, Maddox became embroiled in a
ruinous law suit which resulted in the house’s being seized by the
sheriff and sold to John Coleman. Subsequent owners have been F. W.
Kirchoff, Alfred Moulton, S. P. Walmsley, C. D. Cecil, Walter S.
Simpson, and now Mrs. Brennan.

As envisioned by Barnett and brought to fruition by Gotthiel and
Eichelberger, the house emerged as one recognized for its exceptionally
fine proportions. A strict scale was adhered to so that all rooms, both
upstairs and down, are 22 feet square with the exception of the entrance
hall which measures 11 by 44 and the gold ballroom which is 22 by 44
feet.

Viewed from the street the front elevation of broad front galleries with
superimposed Ionic and Corinthian columns impresses even the casual
observer. A more practiced eye will detect refinements of scale and
detail which make it notable.

In 1954, soon after the Simpsons acquired the property and began
restoration, a major fire destroyed a large part of the interior.
Heartsore but undaunted by the monumental task they now faced, the
Simpsons were determined that the house should be restored as closely as
possible to its original state. Months went into the search for proper
materials and workmen who could execute in the style of a past century.
Today this beautiful home, with recent restoration by Mrs. Brennan, is
again the object of much admiration.

In the entrance hall the molded cornices around the ceiling are prized
“double transparency” style. The rosette was made directly upon the
ceiling at the time of the restoration. Others in the house were molded
separately and then applied. Following the popular neo-classic trend,
the doorframes were made in the “keyhole design”, enhanced by handmade
hinges of silver over solid brass.

Many different woods are used to advantage in the house. Hall floors are
of pine, but cypress is the flooring for living and dining rooms.
Diagonally laid oak boards were placed over the old pine in the ballroom
to give a better surface for dancing. The magnificent stairway combines
cypress treads with walnut spindles topped with a mahogany rail.
Especially beautiful in the living room are the sliding doors made of
burl walnut. They complement the handcarved mantel, also of burl walnut,
with brass trim and Italian tile hearth.

In the dining room the fire blistered off layers of paint on the mantel
tiles and revealed beneath the original design of the tiles. This
Louisiana bayou scene is unique.

Most elegant room in the house is the gold ballroom, looking today much
as it did in 1870, when the Moulton family commissioned a Viennese
artist to decorate it. At that time the ceiling of the coved area was
done in tapestry. Since the fire, it has been hand painted in colors as
close as possible to the original. The birds are done on canvas, and the
field paper is a companion to that on the walls. In this room is a pair
of mantels, dark Italian marble rimmed with silver plated brass, with
hearths of Italian tiles. When the fireplaces are in use, fascinating
designs embossed on the iron firebacks glow and stand out in relief. At
the far end of this spacious chamber is a small room, now converted into
a bar, which was once the room where musicians sat while furnishing
music for soirées.

    [Illustration: Native Louisiana birds in swamp setting are fireplace
    decorations in Brennan house. Fire revealed presence of unique
    painted files.]



                        FRANK G. STRACHAN HOUSE
                           1134 First Street


    [Illustration: FRANK G. STRACHAN HOUSE]

By reason of its beauty alone this majestic house would deserve notice,
but history has touched the house, making it a landmark. It is revered
by Southerners because the Confederacy’s beloved President, Jefferson
Davis, died within its portals. A granite marker placed beside the front
walk by the United Daughters of the Confederacy memorializes this sad
event.

Very little is known about the actual construction of the house, but it
is conceded to have been one of the very first large mansions of the
district. Records show that the site on the corner of First and Camp
Streets was purchased in May, 1849, by Jacob U. Payne and his business
partner, J. P. Harrison. It seems reasonable to suppose that the date of
construction was between that time and 1850, the dawn of Lafayette’s
great era of building. Since no record of architect or builder has been
found, it is a popular local supposition that Mr. Payne himself designed
the house, carrying on the tradition of the previous century when many
gentlemen considered skill in architecture a necessary accomplishment.

The architect, whether Mr. Payne or some unsung genius, achieved a
masterpiece which has both dignity and grace. The use of the Greek
Revival style of architecture could not have been more correct. The
handsome portico with its double gallery is adorned with great columns,
Ionic below and Corinthian above, in the great classic tradition.
Massive gables of the house with their twin chimneys are typical of the
high quality of materials and workmanship employed. The cast iron
capitals of the columns are marked New York, 1848.

The exterior of the house is stuccoed brick and the thick walls within
are also of brick. Cypress was used for the beams; heart pine, for the
floors. Window frames and doors are of mahogany. The decoration of this
house is more restrained than in most of the houses built later when a
greater exuberance came into vogue. The cornice design was duplicated in
a miniature room depicting a New Orleans interior in the Chicago
Institute of Art.

From J. U. Payne, ownership of the house passed to his son-in-law, Judge
Charles E. Fenner, and his family. It was in the downstairs bedroom, on
December 6, 1889, that President Davis died. Mrs. Edward Gay,
granddaughter of the original owner, recalls that Davis, an intimate
friend of the Paynes and Fenners and frequent guest in their home, was
taken ill at his home “Beauvoir” on the Mississippi Gulf Coast and was
brought to her grandfather’s house in an ambulance.

Joyous times as well as sad form the tapestry of this house’s
associations with the Davis family. Winnie Davis, the daughter of
Jefferson Davis, had her happiest moments here. This lovely girl,
christened Varina Ann Jefferson Davis, had been born in the Confederate
Executive Mansion in Richmond in June, 1864. Her birth was regarded as a
single bright light in the darkest time for the South. Ever afterward
she was affectionately called the “Daughter of the Confederacy”.

When she came of age, Winnie was presented to New Orleans society from
the Fenner home. Her social success was a tribute to her beauty as well
as an expression of the esteem with which her father was regarded. In
1883 Winnie was queen of the Momus ball, the theme of which was “The
Moors in Spain”. The following year Winnie, along with the daughters of
Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson and A. D. Hill, was signally honored by
Comus. These girls were given the honor of dancing the first quadrille,
Miss Mildred Lee being Comus’s partner. Although they were not
officially proclaimed queens and maids of honor, the dynasty of Comus
courts dates from that ball.

Later, the charming Miss Davis had her turn to reign with full Carnival
panoply. Comus made her his queen in 1892. Mrs. Gay recalls how, as a
small girl, she stood by the steps to catch a glimpse of Winnie in her
white satin gown, styled along modified Oriental lines, as she entered
the carriage to go to the ball. A portrait of Winnie in this dress,
along with her jewels and the chalice Comus used to toast his queen, are
on display at the Confederate Memorial Hall.

In 1935 the house was sold for the first and only time to Mr. and Mrs.
William Bradish Forsyth. Present occupants of the house are Mr. and Mrs.
Frank G. Strachan. Mrs. Strachan is a daughter of the Forsyths. The
large house is furnished with a fine collection of European and American
antiques and _objets d’art_.

On the south side of the house is an enchanting garden pavillion, which
was designed by Richard Koch and Samuel Wilson, Jr., who have also been
consulting architects for restoration work on the house. The lovely
gardens were planted according to the plans of Umberto Innocenti, noted
landscape architect of Long Island, N. Y.

    [Illustration: Classical serenity of summer house keynotes style of
    formal Italian garden. Lovely structure is noteworthy feature of
    spacious grounds.]



                         THOMAS M. TERRY HOUSE
                           1417 Third Street


    [Illustration: THOMAS M. TERRY HOUSE]

Small and appealing, this remodeled carriage house furnishes a
delightful contrast to the huge mansions which surround it. Some thirty
years ago Dr. and Mrs. Thomas M. Terry bought the carriage house in the
rear of the large house at 2520 Prytania Street. The main house, built
in 1853, is attributed to Isaac Thayer, architect and builder, in Samuel
Wilson, Jr.’s _Guide to Architecture of New Orleans_—1699-1959, although
local tradition holds that it was the work of James Gallier, the
younger. This was the childhood home of John M. Parker, a former
governor of Louisiana.

After purchasing the rear portion of the property, the Terrys, under the
direction of Douglass Freret, architect, embarked upon a building plan
which preserved the interesting features of the original structure and
yet added modern convenience. The resulting arrangement has a serenity
achieved partly through a flowing use of available space and also
through selection of muted, quiet colors. Theirs is a house spacious
enough for entertaining yet a compact home for two.

The original outside walls of the carriage house are 13 inches thick, a
density which is readily seen in the depth of the doorways in the old
exterior walls. Preserved on the exterior are the broad doors which once
swung back to permit the passage of carriages.

The entrance hall, with kitchen on the left, is part of the additions
made by the Terrys. The hall flooring is beautiful Tennessee marble.
Although the brass stair post is not old, the well-worn steps, hidden
beneath the carpet, are the original outside steps leading to the loft
of the carriage house.

The elegant living room was once the carriage house itself, while the
extension on the street end, which now serves as a small study, was used
as harness room, it is believed. Together they form a room 20 by 34
feet.

Extending the width of the house in the rear is a 38-foot-long dining
room and enclosed porch. Huge sheets of glass installed in the spaces
between “iron lace” grillwork of a characteristic Garden District
gallery permit sweeping views of the garden while preserving the
traditional character of the dwelling.

The charming garden is a prize example of achieving maximum beauty in a
more or less minimum space. In competition with gardens of much greater
size, it won the New Orleans Garden Society Cup for three consecutive
years, at which time the cup was permanently presented to the Terrys.
Planned around a large swimming pool, it is skillfully laid out so as to
give the impression of much greater size. Among the plantings are found
azaleas, camellias, sasanquas, sweet olives, hibiscus, hydrangeas and
spring bulbs. The view from the rear of the garden toward the house is
particularly pleasing.

The late Dr. Terry was a tireless worker on behalf of the preservation
of the Garden District. During his twenty-year tenure as President of
the Garden District Property Owners Association, he helped launch an
energetic program aimed at preserving and restoring the beauty of this
section.

    [Illustration: View across swimming pool toward back of Terry house
    shows how glass enclosed iron galleries, new wing blend house with
    traditional garden.]



                       GEORGE G. WESTFELDT HOUSE
                          2340 Prytania Street


    [Illustration: GEORGE G. WESTFELDT HOUSE]

The simplicity and unpretentious charm of this ancient raised cottage
set well back amid luxuriant vegetation bring to mind the pleasant rural
character of the Faubourg Lafayette of the 1830’s. Strongly akin to the
type of plantation architecture which developed in Louisiana, the house
was built by a pioneer resident of the Garden District, Thomas Toby.

In 1817 Toby left Philadelphia and came to New Orleans where he
introduced the use of long-tailed drays for hauling cotton bales. Soon
he had the largest wheelwright and commission merchant business in the
South. After the railway up Nayades Street made the new town of
Lafayette so accessible a suburban paradise, he chose a beautiful lot,
heavily wooded with fine oak trees, on the corner of First and Prytanée
(now Prytania) Streets. In 1838 he erected the charming white cottage
surrounded by a picket fence which became a point of reference when
describing the area. From that day the house has been known as “Toby’s
Corner”. Much of the lumber and supplies used in its construction was
brought from Philadelphia on the ships of his father, Simeon Toby, who
engaged in the East coast trade. Thomas Toby suffered severe financial
reverses in helping to finance the Texas revolution and some years after
his death in 1849, his widow sold the house.

The present owner George G. Westfeldt, Jr., was the fourth generation of
his family to occupy the house. At present the house is the dwelling of
the British Consul General, Mr. A. G. Maitland, and his family.

Thomas Toby had come to New Orleans the year following the disastrous
Macarty crevasse. Doubtless he was mindful that this circumstance had
ruined the Livaudais plantation’s sugar cane crop, and that flood might
come again. Certainly a raised cottage, high water architecture if you
will, was an excellent choice of style. His dwelling had the typical
Louisiana arrangement of brick-piered basement at ground level with a
wide flight of stairs leading to the principal floor above. Originally
there were galleries only on the front and rear of the house, but
through the years other galleries were added as well as a wing on the
Philip Street side. Now the outside steps have been removed and the main
entrance to the house is through the ground floor hall.

The lack of elaborate ornamentation in the house is a testament to its
great age. The pine mantels in the summer living room downstairs and the
simplicity of the woodwork are examples. Also notably chaste in design
is the cornice of the upstairs drawing room. It has been estimated that
one square foot of this molding would weigh 12 pounds. In this room and
the dining room the Italian marble mantels are replacements made many
years ago. Fireplaces remain in almost every room in the house and are
sometimes used in the winter. As in so many houses in this neighborhood,
the handmade glass window panes with their delightful irregularities are
original.

Outside, the garden has been kept in a naturalistic planting to preserve
the plantation atmosphere. The large live oak in the back is a member of
the unique Live Oak Society and is listed as the Livaudais oak. The big
_Magnolia grandiflora_ trees, the much beloved Southern magnolia, were
said to have been planted in the year the house was built. The four
Italian sweet olive trees (_Osmanthes fragrans_) and the large crape
myrtles (_Lagerstroemia indica_) in the front are very old also. The
smaller crape myrtles form a collection of “friendship trees” which have
been received as gifts from nearly every Southern state. There are many
varieties of azaleas and camellias as well as a number of fruit and
flowering trees. A beautiful effect is created in fall and winter by the
colorful berries of the yaupon (_Ilex vomitoria_), the Southern holly,
which reaches nearly to the roof on the First Street side.

    [Illustration: Thomas Toby, native of Philadelphia, was wealthy
    commission merchant. He lost fortune financing Texas revolution.
    Portrait by Vaudechamp.]



                          JOHN A. MMAHAT HOUSE
                           1239 First Street


    [Illustration: JOHN A. MMAHAT HOUSE]

Roses, their beauty captured in iron, embellish the grillwork of this
palatial Garden District mansion. The interesting façade with double
galleries is distinguished by the use of “columns in antae”, Corinthian
and Ionic columns between the square pilasters at the corners.

The contract for construction of the building was signed on January 3,
1857. For $13,000, so modest by present day standards, the owner, Albert
Hamilton Brevard, erected a mansion of many spacious rooms, ornamented
in the best classic fashion, with all the carved wood in the house of
solid mahogany.

Architect of this splendid, typically New Orleans interpretation of the
Greek Revival was James Calrow. Charles Pride was the builder.
Originally the lot comprised half a square extending all the way to Camp
street, boundaries which are still defined by identical fencing along
the block. This decorative fence was a patented design and as such was a
forerunner of the unaesthetic chain link fences of today. A century ago
it was unthinkable that beauty and utility not go hand in hand.

Two years after the completion of the house, Brevard died and his
daughter inherited the property. In 1869 she sold it to Emory Clapp for
his bride. In preparation for the newlyweds, special mirrors were
ordered from France for the double parlor, where they hang today. Made
of rosewood, these mirrors are ornamented with the monogram of the bride
and groom. A pair of the mirrors hangs over the marble mantels and the
other pair, hung at opposite ends of the huge parlor, reflect the
handsome crystal chandelier _ad infinitum_, a source of delight to
visitors.

On the south side of the house are double galleries of the same delicate
ironwork. The hexagonal library with bedroom above and the accompanying
grillwork gallery were added by the Clapps in 1869. For over 65 years
Mrs. Clapp made her home here, taking a loving interest in both house
and grounds. Upon her death in 1934 the house was purchased by Mrs.
Frank Brostrom. Next owners were Federal Judge and Mrs. John Minor
Wisdom, who occupied the house from 1947 until 1972. Present owners are
Mr. and Mrs. John A. Mmahat, who have tastefully preserved the various
outstanding features of the house.

Both inside and outside walls are of brick. The recessed entrance
provides space to fold back the tremendous storm doors. Door and window
frames in the house follow several patterns but for the most part are
topped with egg and dart molding and a Roman classic design of great
charm. Especially elaborate treatment of the woodwork was used in the
dining room. Among the many beautiful plaster ceiling centerpieces, the
medallion in the library is considered the finest.

From the entrance hall the stairway, which has rails and spindles of
mahogany, extends in an unbroken flight to the floor above. The typical
double parlor is divided by a large arch, necessary to support the
ceiling. This arch of carved mahogany terminates in a decorative corbel
at either end. Two fireplaces warmed the area in winter and many
windows, all with handmade glass, provided the necessary summer
ventilation. The marble mantels are unusual in that they are an
unidentical pair. One depicts spring; the other, autumn. Throughout the
house are rare antiques, paintings and _objets d’art_.

The front portion of the beautiful garden has a formal arrangement
focusing on a classical statue. There is also a bird bath backed with a
long bed containing cherry laurels (_Prunus Laurocerasus_), yews
(_podicarpus_), myrtles, a seasoning bay tree (_Laurus nobilis_), a
large cocculus, camellias japonica, and azaleas, edged with boxwood. A
huge purple bougainvillea climbs the iron lacework on the front, while
the back of the gallery supports a _Quirqualis indica_ vine, a tropical
plant sometimes called Rangoon creeper. The bed alongside the house has
camellias, multifleur, and Confederate jasmine vines (_Trachelospermum
jasminoides_).

An integral part of the landscape design is the limestone balustrade
which encloses the garden and runs along the flagstone paving. There are
formal boxwood parterres in the back garden and an inviting circular
bench which surrounds an exceptionally large sweet olive tree
(_Osmanthes fragrans_). The planting around the fish pond includes
podicarpus, sasanquas, bottle-brush (_Callistemon lanceolatus_), shrimp
plant (_Beloperone guttata_), loquat, viburnums, and barberries. White
azaleas in profusion lend springtime beauty.

    [Illustration: Elaborate ornamentation over windows and doors in
    Mmahat house is of carved mahogany. Note ceiling medallion detail,
    crystal chandelier.]



                      THOMAS NORTON BERNARD HOUSE
                          1328 Harmony Street


    [Illustration: THOMAS NORTON BERNARD HOUSE]

Strikingly handsome in its simplicity, the Bernard house is often cited
as a pure example of a Louisiana raised cottage. Sturdy brick pillars
support the wide gallery which is reached by a long flight of steps.
Wooden railings are plain while windows to the floor are symmetrically
arranged on either side of the recessed doorway.

Long owned by various members of the Bernard family, the cottage exudes
family tradition but the builder and construction dates are unknown.
Earliest record of the “property with improvements” is 1861. Bernard
family lore tells of workmen who were finishing the roof watching
Admiral Farragut’s fleet steam up the river toward New Orleans in 1862.

The floor plan of the main floor of the house is typical, a wide central
hall, in this instance eight feet wide and 33 feet long, which extends
from front gallery to back gallery. Behind the characteristic double
parlors on the right of the hall an added wing contains dining room and
kitchen. All rooms are large, distinguished in proportion but not formal
in character. Modernization has been done in an unobstrusive way by the
present owners who also corrected alterations done some 20 years ago so
that all changes are now compatible with the structure’s original lines.

This old house has been adapted skillfully to the needs of an active
family with the attic converted for boys’ bedrooms and additional rooms
in the ground floor basement. The spacious corner lot is landscaped with
swimming pool and patio.



                         GEORGE A. COIRON HOUSE
                        2926 St. Charles Avenue


    [Illustration: GEORGE A. COIRON HOUSE]

A delightful Southern home with many galleries to catch the breezes, the
Coiron house dates from 1882, yet it was designed and built in the
manner of dwellings of the 1860 period. The architect is unknown but the
original owner was one Thomas McDermott, who resided there for many
years with his two maiden sisters.

Older Garden District residents still recall McDermott sitting on the
little porch off the dining room every summer evening, smoking his cigar
until dusk. One charming eccentricity of the McDermott sisters earned
them a place in the ranks of colorful individuals who have made the
Garden District their home. When the garden produced no live blooms,
these old ladies pinned paper flowers to the hedge on the Seventh Street
side of the property.

Subsequent owners of the house were Mrs. Hughella Virginia McCloskey,
Henry Mooney, Ernest Scipio Myers, Mr. and Mrs. Morris Legendre, and, by
bequest of the Legendres, Christ Church Cathedral.

Extensive restoration work was done by the present owners Mr. and Mrs.
George A. Coiron, Jr., after they purchased the house in 1964 from Mrs.
Sylvia Reiner, who had acquired it from the Cathedral.

During the renovation, interesting construction details of this finely
built house were revealed. Year-round comfort was assured inside the
house by the original designer who left air chambers between the inner
and outer walls, which are braced some 12 inches apart. Every room has a
balcony or gallery.

Above the front door is the number 710, etched in France, which was the
original street numeral on St. Charles Avenue before the municipal
numbering system was changed in 1895.

A bit of history attaches to the iron fence and gates which were
installed in 1934 by Mr. Myers. The rear gate, originally from old
Spanish Fort, had been purchased for $35 from a junk man who got it when
the popular lakefront amusement park was demolished.



                          JOHN B. HOBSON HOUSE
                          1224 Jackson Avenue


    [Illustration: JOHN B. HOBSON HOUSE]

Particularly charming, this raised cottage is one of the few remaining
vestiges of the elegance of the homes along Jackson Avenue during the
early days of the Garden District.

Research by Samuel Wilson, Jr., architectural historian, establishes
that the house was built around the time of the War Between the States
by a man named Swain, who previously had resided in a house on the
corner of Philip and Chestnut streets. In 1869 it was the property of
Louis Schneider. In May of 1881 the house was sold to Isaac West, whose
family lived there until 1929, when it was purchased by the Kilpatricks.
They in turn sold to Mr. and Mrs. Paul Pigman. Mr. and Mrs. John B.
Hobson bought the house in 1962.

The beautiful façade is embellished by a deep cornice, fluted Corinthian
columns and lovely “iron lace” in a pattern of lyres and flowers.
Instead of the usual symmetrical arrangement of windows on either side
of the central doorway, the Hobson house has a gentle bay on the left
side. Originally the house had a large rear wing which was destroyed by
fire in the 1950’s.

Inside the house are found ornate and elegant plaster moldings and
ceiling medallions. A spiral stairway rises dramatically to the second
floor from the wide central hall. The Hobsons have furnished the house
with a collection of 18th century English antiques.



                        CHESTER A. MEHURIN HOUSE
                           1427 Second Street


    [Illustration: CHESTER A. MEHURIN HOUSE]

This dignified and handsome Greek Revival house has been the property of
Mr. and Mrs. Chester A. Mehurin since 1948. During their long period of
ownership, the Mehurin’s have completely restored the house, under the
supervision of Koch-Wilson architects, made some additions and also
delved into the interesting history of the property.

The house was probably built by Mrs. Jane Fawcett, widow of James
D’Arcy, on this ground which she purchased in 1845, in the rear of her
other property facing First Street that she had purchased the year
previous. According to Mrs. Dagmar Renshaw LeBreton in “A Tour of the
Garden District” the D’Arcy-Mehurin house was part of a large plantation
home moved here by the D’Arcy’s in the early 1850’s and then added to.
Such house moving was not uncommon during that early period, strange as
it may seem.

A number of architectural features help establish the date of the house
as circa 1850. The ceilings are only 12 feet high and the doors were
originally single width. The door moldings are in the same pattern as
those in the Pontalba buildings, also created in the 1850’s.

At the time of Mrs. D’Arcy’s death in 1885 the house was under lease to
Dr. Henry D. Bruns and was described as “a commodious and well-built
two-story and attic frame-slated residence, with hall in the center, and
contains parlor, library, dining room, kitchen, etc. and some numerous
bedrooms above. Bathroom, pantry, etc., with marble mantels and
gas-light fixtures throughout. Embellished yard and garden, two
cisterns, sheds, etc. Stylish appearance, choice neighborhood.”

In 1907 the house was acquired by Mrs. Henry C. Miller, whose daughter
Miss Lottie Miller conducted a fine private school for girls there until
about 1931 when Dr. John H. Musser bought the place. The ironwork on the
house was added at that period. The Mehurin’s purchased the house from
Dr. Musser’s estate. Many old out-buildings, including a wine cellar,
were removed by the present owners so that the present garden could be
established.



                       LELAND S. MONTGOMERY HOUSE
                          1506 Seventh Street


    [Illustration: LELAND S. MONTGOMERY HOUSE]

Although the architect and builder of this stately mansion are unknown,
it was probably constructed in the 1850’s. A delightful rendering in
water color of the house as it appeared in 1865 is in the notarial
archives of Orleans Parish.

This charming painting shows the house without the library with bedroom
above which was added to the south side of the house in 1890. Details
such as the columns—Ionic on the lower gallery, Corinthian above—and the
curved flagstone walk from the entrance on Seventh street are clearly
shown. This rendering indicates that the present large drawing-room was,
at that time, a double parlor, perhaps separated by an arch. The former
servant’s ell, extending back from the dining room, was so deteriorated
that when Mr. and Mrs. Leland S. Montgomery purchased the house in 1961,
they demolished that wing and had the present kitchen, breakfast room
and playroom added in keeping with the style of the original house. The
Montgomerys also had the wooden front porch floor replaced with one of
flagstones that came from the front walk.

Interestingly, the original owners of the house were named Montgomery,
but no relation to the present owners. The leaded glass of the front
door is etched with an “M”, placed there circa 1912 by the third owners
of the house, whose name was Morgan.

Many interior embellishments of the house are original to the structure.
In the living room the brass and bronze gas chandeliers, now
electrified, are original as are the French cornices over the windows.



                         BILLUPS P. PERCY HOUSE
                           1236 First Street


    [Illustration: BILLUPS P. PERCY HOUSE]

Majestically situated on a large corner lot abounding in typical
Southern shrubs and towering magnolia trees the Percy house is a fine
example of the Greek Revival style. All the components of a classic
Garden District mansion are here—double galleries, fluted Corinthian
columns, iron grillwork, and a deep but simple cornice above the top
porch.

A characteristic floor plan, as indicated from the arrangement of
windows and the door in the façade, was to have all major rooms on the
south side (the preferred exposure) of a long hall. The present owners
of the home, Mr. and Mrs. Billups P. Percy have modified this
arrangement by the addition of a library on the north side of the house.

One of the oldest structures in the Garden District, the Percy house was
erected in 1847 by John W. Gayle for his young bride. It was passed to
its present owners through several ownerships, including the Alfred Le
Blance family who resided here for fifty years.

In the interior of the house are to be noted such familiar antebellum
hallmarks as black marble mantels, plaster ceiling rosettes and crystal
chandeliers. In addition to the English, French and Italian antiques in
the house, an item of special interest is an oil portrait of the late
William Alexander Percy, Mississippi poet, author of the
autobiographical “Lanterns on the Levee” and the adoptive father of
Billups Percy.



                        ALBERT J. RUHLMAN HOUSE
                        2336 St. Charles Avenue


    [Illustration: ALBERT J. RUHLMAN HOUSE]

This early Louisiana cottage, believed to date from the 1840’s, looks
today much as it did when the little railroad on Nayades Street brought
wealthy business men from their offices downtown out to their palatial
Garden District homes.

The façade of the house is symmetrically lovely, distinguished by the
wooden railing in a diamond-shaped design, so seldom found today.
Typical of the best features of homes of this period are the wide center
hall, high ceilings, double parlors, cypress woodwork with hand-hammered
door knobs, heart pine floors and handsome window glass. Window and door
frames are in the so-called keyhole design.

The present owners of the house, Mr. and Mrs. Albert J. Ruhlman have
furnished it with pieces contemporary with the era of its construction.
Particularly noteworthy is the collection of furniture by Prudent
Mallard, a native of France who worked in New Orleans from 1840-79. The
Mallard sideboard in the dining room is of peg and hole construction, no
nails of any kind having been used. Also the work of Mallard are two
bedroom sets, one with a half tester, the other with full tester. Among
the other interesting Mallard furniture are two chairs and a prie dieu
which were once possessions of the master cabinetmaker himself.



                       JOSEPH V. SCHLOSSER HOUSE
                           1240 Sixth Street


    [Illustration: JOSEPH V. SCHLOSSER HOUSE]

After undergoing varied and not always felicitous usages during its long
history, this handsome double galleried frame house is once again what
it was originally, a fine private dwelling.

Estimated by Koch and Wilson, architects for the restoration, to have
been built between 1866 and 1868, the house for many years was the Music
School of the original Sophie Newcomb High School and College. The
school’s main campus was in the square directly across the street, as
described earlier in this book. When Newcomb relocated, the property was
acquired by the Baptist Bible Institute, which divided the huge rooms of
the dwelling into six apartments, all with individual baths and
kitchens.

After Dr. and Mrs. Joseph Schlosser purchased the house in 1953, many
months of planning preceded the restoration. In addition to removing the
apartment arrangements, the Schlossers had the house completely
rock-lathed, replastered, repainted, replumbed, re-wired and insulated.
From 11 to 15 coats of paint were removed from the original woodwork.

The entrance door and the stair railing are solid mahogany. The pair of
black and gold Austrian marble mantels in the living room and library
came from Uncle Sam plantation. This sugar plantation, owned by Pierre
Auguste Samuel Fagot, had been one of the most magnificent in Louisiana.
In the dining room the marble mantel came from a house, now destroyed,
designed by the celebrated architect Henry Howard.

The Schlosser’s have furnished their home with antiques and a notable
collection of paintings by Ellsworth and William Woodward. William
Woodward, a native of New Hampshire, was the first professor of Art and
Architecture at Tulane and his brother Ellsworth founded the Art School
of Newcomb College.



                         SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY


  Bickle, Lucy Leffingwell Cable. _George W. Cable: His Life and
          Letters._ New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1928.
  Briede, Kathryn C. _A History of the City of Lafayette._ Unpublished
          thesis. Howard-Tilton Library of Tulane University.
  Cable, George Washington. _The Creoles of Louisiana._ New York:
          Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1889.
  Carter, Hodding and Betty Werlein Carter. _So Great a Good._ Sewanee,
          Tennessee: University Press, 1955.
  Castellanos, Henry C. _New Orleans As It Was._ New York: L. Graham and
          Son, 1895.
  Chase, John Churchill. _Frenchmen, Desire, Good Children ... and Other
          Streets of New Orleans._ New Orleans: Robert L. Crager and
          Co., 1949.
  Clapp, Theodore. _Autobiographical Sketches and Recollections._
          Boston: Phillips, Sampson and Co., 1859.
  Fortier, Alcee. _A History of Louisiana_, 4 vols. New York: Mansi,
          Joyant and Co., 1904.
  Kendall, John Smith. _History of New Orleans_, 3 vols. Chicago: Lewis
          Publishing Co., 1922.
  King, Grace. _Creole Families of New Orleans._ New York: Macmillan
          Co., 1921.
  ____. _New Orleans, The Place and the People._ New York: Macmillan and
          Co., 1895.
  leBreton, Dagmar Renshaw; Ethel Wight Usher and Marcel Peret. _A Tour
          of the Garden District._ New Orleans: American Association of
          University Women, 1942.
  Martin, Francois-Xavier. _The History of Louisiana._ New Orleans:
          James A. Gresham, 1882.
  Ralph, Julian. _Dixie, or Southern Scenes and Sketches._ New York:
          Harper and Bros., 1896.
  Renshaw, James A. “The Lost City of Lafayette”, _Louisiana Historical
          Quarterly_, II (1919), 47-55.
  Smith, Sol. _Theatrical Management._ New York: Harper and Bros., 1868.
  Soniat, Meloncy C. “The Faubourgs Forming the Upper Section of the
          City of New Orleans”, _Louisiana Historical Quarterly_, XX
          (1937), 192-211.
  Twain, Mark. _Life on the Mississippi._ Boston: James R. Osgood and
          Co., 1883.
  Wilson, Samuel, Jr. _A Guide to Architecture of New
          Orleans—1699-1959._ New York: Reinhold Publishing Corp., 1959.
  City Directories of New Orleans and Lafayette City.
  Various issues of _Louisiana Spectator_, _Lafayette City Advertiser_,
          _Southern Traveler_, _The Louisiana Statesman_, and New
          Orleans newspapers.
  Articles by John W. Coleman, _The New Orleans States_, 1922-1925.
  Microfilm of diary of Thomas Kelah Wharton, 1853-1862, in
          Howard-Tilton Library. (Original in New York Public Library.)
  Minutes of the Police Jury of Jefferson Parish, 1834-1843.
  The Ordinances and Resolutions of the City of Lafayette, 1852.
  Map by Louise Renes Trufant and Randall Genung, 1940.

    [Illustration: CITY OF LaFAYETTE]



                          Transcriber’s Notes


—Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook
  is public-domain in the country of publication.

—Silently corrected a few palpable typos.

—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
  _underscores_.





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