Top Stories New Orleans

I recently re-read Grace King’s 1920’s book, “New Orleans: The Place and the People” and realized all over again the importance of her contribution in chronicling the city’s history.  Not only that, but Miss King’s passion for the city shines through in every paragraph, making it, not only interesting and informative, but a joy to read.  For the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing some excerpts from the book.  Since the winter season is upon us, that’s where I’ll begin — with the winter social season of 1825:  its opera, theater, balls and holiday and Mardi Gras festivities.

Click here to see the full Historic New Orleans photo gallery!

“New Orleans:  The Place and the People” – excerpt from Chapter 12:
The travelers of that time in the United States, the European ones, especially, liked New Orleans, and were fond of comparing it with the cities of the North. The Duke of Saxe-Weimar, Eisenach, who visited New Orleans, in 1825‑26, publishes quite frankly: “It was naturally agreeable to me, after wandering a long time in mere wilderness, once more to come into a long civilized country.” He landed at Bayou St. John, and finding that a boat to the city would cost six dollars, he walked in.  After three miles, “We found ourselves quite in another world, plantations with handsome buildings, followed in quick succession, noble live-oaks, orange trees, mansions with columns, piazzas and covered galleries.  We saw from a distance the white spires of the cathedral and masts in port and passed the canal upon a turning bridge to strike into the city by a nearer way.  The road led between well-built mansions; over the streets were hung reflecting lamps.  Ships lay four or five deep in tiers along the river.  In a line with the bank stood houses two or three stories high, also, ancient mansion houses known by their heavy, solid style.”

The Duke visited Mr. Grymes (who had married the beautiful widow of Governor Claiborne).  They lived, he says, in a large and splendidly furnished house, and they made a great display at a dinner party given him.  “After the second course, large folding doors opened and we beheld another dining-room in which stood a table with the dessert, at which we seated ourselves in the same order as at the first.”

The Duke made up his mind to pass the season in the city. “No day passed over this winter,” he writes, “which did not produce something pleasant and interesting . . . dinners, evening parties, masquerades and other amusements followed close on each other.  There were masked balls every night of the Carnival at the French theatre, which had a handsome saloon, well ornamented with mirrors, with three rows of seats arranged en amphitheâtre.  Tuesdays and Fridays were the nights for the subscription balls, where none but good society were admitted.  The ladies are very pretty, with a genteel French air, their dress, extremely elegant, after the latest Paris fashion; they dance excellently.  Two cotillions and a waltz were danced in quick succession.  On Sundays, shops were open, and singing and guitar playing in the streets, for which, in New York or Philadelphia, one would be put in prison.”

He goes to the coffee-houses to hear Spanish songs with guitar accompaniment, and to the theatre regularly, both to the French and American.  At the former, among other dramatic performances, he saw “Marie Stuart” played in masterly style to an enthusiastic audience, in which the Columbian commander in port was a conspicuous figure, with his brilliant uniform and hat with long white feather.  He also met an old friend, the Comte de Vidua, there.  At the American theatre he saw “Der Freischütz” (the Kentuckians), cracking nuts during the performance.  On Mardi-Gras all the ballrooms of the city were opened.  There was a grand masked ball at the Théâtre d’Orléans and there is mention of a children’s ball for the benefit of the dancing master, in which the little ones gave proof of their inherited beauty and grace.  The taste and splendour in the mansion of the Baron de Marigny are especially commented upon, and the coffee-set sent by the Duke of Orleans, the cups ornamented with portraits of the royal family, the larger pieces with views of the Palais Royal, and castle and park at Neuilly.  It was with the Marigny ladies that the Duke went to see the “Cosmorama,” and returning from accompanying them home, saw the prettiest picture he has penned in the book:  “It was eight o’clock as we descended the levee, the evening was clear, with starlight, the bustle in the harbour had ceased, on board of some ships the sailors collected on deck under an illuminated awning where the captain held evening service.  Precisely at eight o’clock the retreat gun fired at the city hall . . . immediately afterwards the two Columbian brigs fired; their drums and bugles sounded retreat, while those in the barracks did the same.  All this, added to the lighted ships and the solitary gleams from the opposite side of the river, made an impression upon me which I cannot describe.”

After a stay of nine weeks he left New Orleans, “With the most grateful feelings towards the inhabitants, who have received me in a friendly and affectionate manner, and have made this winter so extremely agreeable to me.”

The French Opera House was destroyed by fire in 1919.  This is an excerpt from The Times-Picayune, December 5, 1919:  “Gone, all gone.  The curtain has fallen for the last time upon “Les Huguenots,” long a favorite of the New Orleans public.  The opera house has gone in a blaze of horror and of glory.  There is a pall over the city; eyes are filled with tears and hearts are heavy.  Old memories, tucked away in the dusty cobwebs of forgotten years, have come out like ghosts to dance in the last ghastly Walpurgis ballet of flame.

“The heart of the old French Quarter has stopped beating.”

The photos and sketches are of the French Opera House’s interior and exterior, ranging from 1873 to 1900; the program is from the 1919 season – the last season the grand old Opera House would see.