And then came Laura

Recently I was in New Orleans for a week of brainstorming, writing, frozen cocktails, beignet, and crab cakes (if you haven’t had the crab cakes at Oceana on Conti, you haven’t really had a crab cake IMO). As my crit partners and I sucked down the tref (hello, we found a bacon and oyster sandwich at a place called Cochon) we also managed to squeeze in a day of research by visiting a couple of plantations: Oak Alley and Laura.

Oak Alley was worth going to for the trees alone (top pic). An alley of 28 three-hundred year old trees is an impressive sight indeed. Unfortunately, the tour of the house was given by a woman who seemed to be doing an impression of the Spanish Infanta from Black Adder, and she actually said said “The slaves on Oak Alley were happy and very well treated.” leading me and the one African American on the tour to exchange horrified looks and quickly duck out.

And then came Laura (bottom pic) . . . I’ve been on a lot of house tours, all over the world. Laura Plantation, at least in the hands of Norman Marmillion, is hands-down the best house tour I’ve ever been on. Between his charming Creole accent, his passion for the Creole life, and his deep knowledge of the history of the plantation, I was basically in love with both Norman and the plantation itself. It helps, of course, that he’s the editor of the plantation’s memoir: Memories of The Old Plantation Home (and yes, I bought it, and am really looking forward to reading it).

He tells an uncompromising and unsentimental story of plantation run by women generation after generation: Women who died cursing the North and screaming that their house couldn’t be bombed because their husband fought with General Washington; women who shouldered aside husbands and brothers and made their plantation a roaring success in the teeth of everyone around them; women who were ruthless enough to sell off their son’s African mistress and their child to separate owners (this was one case where a man in the family stood up and asserted themselves, buying them back on the spot).

Norman doesn’t hold back when telling it like it was (no happy slaves here). You get the branded, the runners, the children working all day in the fields and kitchens, even the story of the mistress nearly sold off, who begged after the Civil War to be allowed to serve first her lover’s wife and then his sister (regardless of how their mother had treated her, she clearly considered them family).

Laura also has a literary claim to fame: The stories of Br'er Rabbit, were recorded in its slave cabins by Alcée Fortier in 1894 (and Fats Domino was born there, for those who prefer a musical legend).

Oh, and they make the best pralines I’ve ever had (which sadly seem to be the one thing you can’t order online from their shop, unlike a facsimile of Br’er Rabbit or the wonderful memoir of Laura Locoul Gore, the last president of the plantation).

Do you enjoy house tours? Have you ever found one you wanted to go back to again and again?