3421 Esplanade Ave
New Orleans, Louisiana
March 7, 2002
Of course, I always do my research before I travel anywhere, so I knew that it was ill-advised to travel alone in either of the French Quarter-area cemeteries (St. Louis #1 or #2). In fact, I knew that you were advised to stick with a tour group in St. Louis #1, and I don’t even know if tours occur at all in St. Louis #2. You see, both cemeteries are adjacent to some nasty projects (in fact, St. Louis #2 is right in the MIDDLE of the projects) and because most New Orleans graves are held in above-ground tombs (which I’ll get into more detail about later), the cemeteries are filled with lots of blind alleys, just perfect for mugging unsuspecting tourists. So, I was a bit wary about exploring the cemetery alone. However, when we arrived the first day, there were a large number of tourists there, and it didn’t seem particularly dangerous. So, we took our chances and wandered in.
Founded in 1789, St. Louis Cemetery #1 on Rampart Street is the oldest existing cemetery in the city. Near the front gate is the most famous of all the graves in the cemetery: the final resting spot of Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen (1794-1881). What exactly does a voodoo queen do, you might ask? Well, the usual stuff: leading rituals, telling fortunes, giving advice on love, and preparing custom gris-gris for anyone needing to effect a cure, charm, or hex. (Personally, I think she was the original Hypemaster, more than anything else.)
But who am I to doubt dear Marie? Here people are still putting offerings and drawing little X’s all over her grave over 100 years after her death. She obviously still has some major drawing power! If she’s buried there, that is… rumor has it that this is the grave of a different Marie Laveau. Now, what sort of town loses their Voodoo Queen??? Well, I suppose it would be an intoxicated, absinthe-hazed town like New Orleans…
(Incidentally, if you’re into the whole Voodoo aspect of New Orleans, you’ll want to be sure to visit the Voodoo Museum. I didn’t have time to get there this time around, unfortunately.)
After spending a few quality moments with some Marie Laveau or other, we decided to commence wandering aimlessly through the cemetery. I noticed there was some quite lovely old ironwork on some of the graves. There were also some nice iron crosses on top of the crypts. One thing I can say about New Orleans, in general, is that the ironwork is superb!
I suppose now is as good a time as any to discuss the unique aspects of New Orleans cemeteries and funeral customs. Of course, the most unique thing about the New Orleans “Cities of the Silent” is that the graves are interred in crypts above-ground. This isn’t done for aesthetic reasons, but practical ones. You see, the water table in New Orleans is extremely high, so when the original settlers tried burying their dead the convential way, they kept coming back from the grave. The caskets would literally float and pop-up out of the ground, which would make for a MOST interesting cemetery stroll for those of us with a morbid nature, but is somewhat less enticing to the general public.
So, the policy of keeping the dead above ground came into vogue out of necessity. The societies (ie. groups of individuals with a common profession, ethnicity, or creed) and the rich have their own fancy shmancy tombs (such as this society tomb entitled “Italia”) , but most families have simple, economical vaults that are stacked one on top of the other. The most fascinating part of the whole thing is that the bodies that are placed in the crypts are “naturally” cremated. You see, the temperature inside the crypt on hot summer days reaches incredible heights – enough to turn most of a human into ash (barring the odd femur here and there). In fact, there is a fascinating ritual that surrounds the placement of the body in the tombs, and it goes a little like this:
Generally, a family will own a few compartments within a tomb. Whenever someone in the family dies, there are placed into one of the empty compartments and it is bricked up for one year and one day. This is the traditional Judeo-Christian mourning period. After exactly one year and one day, the compartment is opened, and the cremains are dumped into a communal pit at the bottom of the tomb. And there the remains further decay, in that old “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” sort of way.
(Of course, I couldn’t help but think… what if you despised your father? Or your Aunt Edna? Or Cousin Charlie? And here you were, dumped into a pit with them for all eternity! Molecule touching molecule. Oh, the horror!!!)
But I digress…
Another interesting thing about this custom is what happens if you run out of room in the family tomb. Let’s say there’s a car crash and your brother and sister are both killed on January 7th, so they are bricked-up in two of the four compartments in your family tomb. Then, on March 24th, Grandma finally kicks the bucket. She goes into the third compartment. On April 27th, Grandpa is overcome by grief and puts his head in an oven. Now, he goes into the fourth compartment. Then, on July 16th, you come down with a fatal case of impetigo (who knows, it could happen). There’s no room for you – all the compartments are filled. Where do you go?
Well, the answer is that you rent a unit until January 9th of the next year when brother and sister are dumped into the family cistern. And where are the rental units? Why, they are built into the walls of the cemetery. Talk about an economical use of space!
So, I guess when you live in New Orleans, you don’t get that “burial or cremation” choice that causes arguments at Thanksgiving tables the worldover. I suppose that, in itself, is one of the best things about this custom. Having said that, there are still a few old-fashioned ground graves, for those who just can’t bring themselves to be cremated (like Egyptians), but they are rare. (This one doubles as a convenient location for goth kids to have sex.)
We continued wandering about, admiring the ornate tombs, which actually are few and far between. Really, as far as cemeteries are concerned, St. Louis isn’t that pretty. It has its moments, such as this nifty gravestone with its “angel hovering over newly-deceased actor” carving (eroded as it may be), and the tragic inscriptions that surrounded it:
ELIZA W. LEWIS
WIFE OF
William C. C. Claiborne
governor general of Louisiana
who died at New Orleans
the 27th day of Sept. 1804
at the age of 20
And, even more tragically:
Also
CORNELIA TENNESSEE CLAIBORNE
the only child of
Eliza W. Claiborne
who died on the same day
aged three years
And, finally:
“Here also rests the body of
MICAJAH GREEN LEWIS
brother of Eliza W. Claiborne
and private Secretary to Governor Claiborne
who fell in a duel
Febry 14th 1805
in the 25th year of his age.”
However, apart from those, and the city-like novelty of the above-ground tombs, there wasn’t a lot that held my interest in the cemetery. Many of the inscriptions are in French, which also can be frustrating when your français is a oui bit rusty like mienne. But for that special old-world Voodoo Queen/Vampire Lestat ambiance, it cannot be beat.
VISITOR CONTRIBUTIONS
Steve’s Flickr Page
“I ran across your St. Louis No. 1 cemetery photos and travelogue. I enjoyed them both. Thought you might appreciate that I’ll be buried there myself at the appropriate time. Here are some photos I took on All Saints Day in 2005. It was the first time the cemetery was opened after Katrina. While we were exiled in the days after the storm, we could see from the aerial photos on the internet that the cemetery had flooded, and read somewhere that it only got a foot or so of water.
“There was no damage we could see, however. Not even a water line on the family tomb. I don’t know whether they cleaned it up or whether the water just didn’t get that high. Someone used the space between two tombs next to ours as a shelter, putting a blanket over some sticks running from the roofs of the tombs, almost like a kid’s fort. The normal amount of junk was scattered around what may or may not be Marie Laveaux’s tomb, and someone left a stuffed Tasmanian Devil doll right across from it. Photos at the link below.
“I think your tour guide might have been carried away somewhat. It does get Africa hot in New Orleans but not hot enough to actually cremate remains. The decomposition process is accelerated if the body is not embalmed, though. A great uncle who died of yellow fever in Panama in 1917 was shipped home in a sealed steel coffin and placed in the upper vault. When my grandfather died in 1971, my grandmother had to petition the archdiocese and fill out forms with the Board of Health to have the steel coffin opened and the remains removed to make way for him. My grandmother died in 1985 and is the last one to be buried in our tomb.”
http://www.flickr.com/photos/steve_o3/sets/1270320/
Anyone have any additional stories, tidbits or photos to add?
If so, by all means, write me!
