St. Joseph Plantation: A Mourning Tour

St. Joseph Plantation, Vacherie, Louisiana

Take a drive along Louisiana's Highway 18, a winding stretch of road that matches the meandering path and measured pace of the Mississippi river, just west of a thin sliver of a town called Vacherie, and you'll soon find the elegant, Creole style St. Joseph Plantation.  If you do so in October you will be able to tour a home that is in the midst of observing the traditional mourning customs of the Creoles.

St. Joseph is a working sugarcane plantation, surrounded by fields of tall, green cane and an industry that supplies over 32,000 jobs to Louisiana.  While sugarcane is grown all across the lower half of the state, it is here, along the banks of this great river, that sugar first became a prominent aspect of New Orleans society.  And it was here that Valcour Aimé, known as the "Louis XIV of Louisiana", built his sugar empire, which included St. Joseph, a home he bought for his daughter Josephine in 1858.

St. Joseph Plantation, Vacherie, LA

Restoration of the plantation began in 2002 by descendants of several families that once owned St. Joseph.  We were pleased to learn that our tour guide for the day would be Diane Butler, a great, great, great granddaughter of Joseph Waguespack, who bought the plantation in 1877.  Diane was more than just a tour guide.  We did not feel as if we were touring a historical museum.  Instead, we felt as if Diane had invited us into her home, spinning tales of her families history as she opened up each room to us.

What really set this tour apart from so many other plantation tours was the way in which Diane wove the stories of those who lived at St. Joseph into those of the families all along this stretch of the Mississippi.  In fact, one quickly came to understand that St. Joseph, like Oak Alley Plantation, Felicity Plantation, Laura Plantation and others in the area, were all a part of a tight-knit community; a neighborhood made up of families that grew up together, intermarried, and whose successes and failures were indelibly tied together.  As proof of this, Diane told us of her grandparents.  Her grandmother grew up at St. Joseph, her grandfather at Oak Alley, and their courtship began as they promenaded along the levy.

Front door draped with black crape and wreaths to indicate a death in the home.

During the month of October, St. Joseph Plantation observes the mourning customs of the early Creoles.  From the road one can first see the front door with crape and wreaths.  This was a way for the family to announce to outsiders that a death had occurred.  In this way concerned friends and relatives did not have to stop and inquire if a sick member of the family was still alive.  They could wait until they saw the draping of the entrance after which they would know the family member had passed.

The body was prepared and placed in a coffin for viewing in the parlor.  Sometimes a bedroom was used.  As the families at St. Joseph were Catholic, a prie-Dieu was placed beside the coffin so that visitors could pay their respects and pray for the deceased.

The coffin lies in the parlor, ready for visitors.

Because embalming was not common until after the Civil War, efforts had to be made to control the odor of death.  Sometimes, a bucket of ice was placed under the coffin to keep the corpse cool.  Candles were lit at both ends while fragrant flowers and greenery were placed about the room.  This was important, since a vigil was kept for two days in which the body was never left alone.

As we followed along with the tour, I wondered about this now abandoned custom.  We are so isolated from the dead these days.  Unless you request to be involved, as my wife did when she applied the makeup for her mother before the viewing, you probably won't have much interaction with the body of your deceased loved one.  Are we missing something when we don't have them in the house for two days?  When one could sit with the body for hours, reflecting on their lives, the impact they made, or maybe needing that chance to say a few words you couldn't before?  Perhaps it is something we need to bring back.  I feel certain it won't ever be.  Certainly not any time soon.

Mirror draped for mourning.

With mirrors covered and clocks stopped at the time of death, a household in mourning seemed to hold its breath.  In a way, time did actually stop as the community gathered to console the family and the deceased was prepared and sent off into the afterlife.  Again, there seemed to be more attention paid to this event, more focus on the man or woman or child who was passing on.  Today we drop by to a viewing after work, and if we can we attend the burial, a short occasion managed by strangers whose business it is to get the body propped up for a quick look and an even quicker eulogy.  Friends and family might stand around for finger foods for a short time.  But in the end we all have to rush back to living.  Death is not a subject over which we like to linger.

Immortelles hang on the wall at St. Joseph Plantation

In one of the rooms at St. Joseph we were shown a collection of wreaths known as immortelles.  These decorative wreaths were often taken to the cemetery during the burial, and might be either left there or brought back to house as a symbol of remembrance.  They often included the use of glass bead and photographs under glass.  The immortelles hanging at St. Joseph were found in the attic.

A mourning dress on display, alongside the portraits of Josephine Aime
and her husband Alexis Ferry.

Of course, much effort went into dressing for this time of mourning.  And for a widow, there were a great deal of rules and customs to follow.  They would wear dull black mourning clothes for the six months during the first stage of mourning, sometimes referred to as deep mourning.  There might be a second stage, half-mourning, in which a few muted colors such as heliotrope (a reddish, blue-red) might be worn.  Though re-marriage was allowed for widows after a year and six weeks, many widows not only did not remarry, they might choose to dress in mourning for the rest of their lives.  Today we would feel the need to tell a widow to move on, to not dwell on their loss, but is that really the best choice?  For many women, then and even now, it may not be.  But it would have been an easier choice to make in the past when it was more socially acceptable to do so.

The rear porch and entrance to St. Joseph's Plantation.

The Mourning Tour runs from October 1st to November 2nd.  And I encourage everyone to take advantage of this peek into customs that have passed from our culture over the last hundred years.  The staff at St. Joseph's are friendly and eager to share their home and history with each and every visitor.  And whether you come for the Mourning Tour or just a regular tour, you'll be glad you did.  The grounds are enchanting and the history fascinating.  It is a beautiful day-trip you won't soon forget.

While you are at the plantation you can buy a copy of the book Early Creole Mourning Customs in South Louisiana.  Most of my research for this blog was taken from its pages.

For more information on St. Joseph Plantation please visit their website:
St. Joseph Plantation

Special thanks to Diane Butler and Denise Borell for their generous help and eagerness to share their family's home and history with us.

Oak Alley Plantation: An Iconic View (Part Three)

Oak Alley Plantation, Vacherie, Louisiana

For the final portion of our tour, I promised to take everyone inside the main house at Oak Alley.  A man's reputation is won and lost on how he handles his promises, and I wouldn't want to give the impression that my promises are not worth the Ethernet they're written on.  So let's go ahead and amble up to the front door.  There we'll find a friendly guide to take us through the front door.

Here you can see the front door, and the beautiful scene that awaits visitors.  Don't be shy.  Step right in.  You are more than welcome to enjoy the wonderful scenes that await in every room.

Now, to be honest with you, I won't even try to describe the historical details and architectural features of the house.  For that, be sure to take the tour yourself.  Our own guide was bursting with stories and details that make the tour well worth the ticket price.  But I would like to share a few pictures that we took as we made our way through the house.

Speaking of guides, here you can see our guide, dressed as if she stepped right out of the Antebellum era.  For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, Antebellum refers to the period of time before the American Civil War.  That is the era to which this term is attached in the United States.  From what I understand, the rest of the world considers the years leading up to World War I as the Antebellum era.  But for our purposes, and this tour, we'll stick with the American definition.

The pictures on the far wall are paintings of Jacques and Celina Roman, who lived in this house from 1836 to 1866.  (Celina lived in the house after Jacques' death in 1848 until her own death in 1866.)

A punkah fan hangs over this long dining room table.  When the family had slaves, a house slave would sit in the corner and pull on a rope.  This kept the fan in motion, cooling the diners as they ate.

We were encouraged to keep an eye out for ghosts, especially ones that might show up in our photographs.  An active imagination might be tempted to think I caught one here, but I'll have to disappoint everyone and point out it is only the glare from the sun.  (Or is it?)  The stairs are quite steep, and in fact, one of the Roman children, Louise, fell down stairs when her hoop skirt caught.  She lost a leg in the accident.  Though it was thought that she fell down the stairs in Oak Alley, recent reports tell us she in fact was in New Orleans at the time.  But if you stand at the top of the stairs here, you can believe how easy it would be to fall down such steep stairs.

On the second floor you'll find the Roman's bedroom.  It was here that Jacques Roman died in 1848.  The historical detail in this room is wonderful to examine, including the chandelier.

Be sure to check out the detail work above the lights.

Across from the Roman Bedroom is the only room in the house that is not decorated in the Antebellum style.  This was Josephine Stewart's room.  She lived in the house from 1925 until October 3, 1972.  Mrs. Stewart founded the Oak Alley Foundation, which enables the plantation to remain open for the public.

For more information on Josephine Stewart, click here.

And if you missed the first two parts of this tour be sure to check them out.

Oak Alley Part One

Oak Alley Part Two

For more information on Oak Alley, be sure to visit their website:  Oak Alley Plantation

To see all of our posts featuring Louisiana Plantations click on the link below:
Louisiana Plantations at Room With No View

And check out our newest 2015 New Orleans Calendars:

Oak Alley Plantation: An Iconic View (Part Two)

Oak Alley Plantation, Vacherie, Louisiana.

For our second look at Oak Alley we will take a walk down the back alley.  That's right.  There are, in fact, two magnificent approaches to the house.  The trees are younger here, some of them having been planted over a hundred years later than the oaks in the front of the house by the Roman family, the rest of them added by the Stewarts another hundred years later in the 1930's.  This approach is the path visitors first use to reach the main house.

The centerpiece at the end of the lane is an iron sugar kettle, once used to refine the sugar that was the main product of this plantation.  Four kettles, the largest seven and a half feet in diameter, the smallest four feet in diameter, comprised what is known as a Jamaica Train, where cane juice was processed into crystallized sugar.  Molasses, a by-product of the process, was also produced.

Walking past the sugar kettle, and out to the end of the back alley, visitors will find the Oak Alley Restaurant, housed in a turn of the (20th) century quarter house.  It was here that tenanted farmers and their families lived, each square building consisting of four rooms centered on a single fireplace.

Breakfast is served here from 8:30 to 10:30.  Beignets and coffee are a popular choice here, as well as their Pan Perdue, a French toast covered in confectionery sugar and cane syrup.  Since it opens earlier than the house tours this is a great chance to relax and fuel up before walking the grounds.

Lunch is served from 11:00 to 3:00 p.m. with an emphasis on Cajun and Creole cuisine.  You'll have your choice of red beans and rice, fried alligator nuggets, crawfish etouffée, gumbo and a daily special from chef Antonio Reymundo.  (And don't forget to grab some bread pudding with whiskey sauce, unless you'd rather have some pecan pie.)

There is also a café open from 9 to 5 p.m. where you'll be able to grab a quick refreshment if you weren't planning on a full meal.  It is located in the gift shop, which is connected to the restaurant.

Across from the restaurant and gift shop is Oak Alley Spirits.  It was a little too early in the day for us to sample the Apple Pie Moonshine, though it did sound intriguing.

Between the restaurant and the main house is a reconstruction of the plantation's slave quarters.  The Slavery at Oak Alley exhibit, which was added in July of 2013, is an educational memorial to the slaves that built and worked this plantation.  Though slavery is forever tied to its history here, keep in mind it was only in use at Oak Alley for thirty years.

The exhibit does not shy away from the ugliness of slavery.  On display are shackles as well as implements used for punishment, including neck shackles with bells, used as a way to make it harder for an escaped slave to hide.  The children's transport shackles in the center of the picture are especially sobering.

I really liked this simple yet moving memorial inside one of the cabins.  Alongside the wall of names is a plaque that reads:

Between 1836 and the Civil War, 198 men,

women and children were enslaved at Oak Alley.

Dehumanized and quantified like any other

commodity, they appear in sales and records and

inventories, yet as people they have been all but

forgotten by history.

This is a respectful recognition of the people on whose

backs this plantation was built.  For most of them, a

name is all that remains of their story.

There is also an interactive Civil War Encampment on the grounds as well as an 1890's blacksmith shop.  If you have the time you might also enjoy the antique car garage, featuring cars from the 1920's representing the Stewart era.

In part three of our tour we will step inside the main house and look at what life was like for the Romans and Stewarts.

If you missed part one of the tour, you can follow this link to it: Oak Alley (Part One)

For more information on Oak Alley see their website here.

Oak Alley Plantation: An Iconic View (Part One)

Oak Alley Plantation, Vacherie, Louisiana

To walk the grounds of Oak Alley Plantation is to walk the history of Louisiana.  This grand antebellum Lady of the Deep South provides one of the most iconic views of a Creole sugar plantation.  One hundred and Seventy-Five years ago, in 1839, Jacques Télesphore Roman built a home on the banks of the Mississippi as a gift for his wife Celina.  Although it would eventually become known as Oak Alley, its signature rows of Virginia Live Oaks were not planted by the Romans.  The man responsible for the 28 oaks, planted in two rows spaced 80 feet apart, is unknown.  It is believed that they were planted about one hundred years before the Romans built the main house.  Today, a short trip south from Baton Rouge or a short trip north from New Orleans will bring you to this amazingly restored plantation.

The largest oak on the grounds has a girth of 30 feet with a 127-foot spread of limbs.  The oaks in the alley were inducted into the Live Oak Society in the mid-nineties, each oak being registered with a name.  Since live oak trees can live as long as 600 years, these 300 year old oaks are now in the prime of their life.  Having lived this long, one can only imagine how many hurricanes they have endured.

The house is surrounded by 28 columns, representing the 28 oaks.  The walls of the home are sixteen inches thick, constructed of bricks that were made with mud from the Mississippi river, and covered in stucco.  A porch runs around the entire home with a portico that does the same on the second floor.  Our visit was on a hot day in late summer, yet the air was pleasant with a slight breeze and we sat in the shade quite comfortably.  Sipping on a Mint Julep made the experience even more pleasant.

 The plantation is open every day of the year except for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Day, and Mardi Gras.  From March through October the hours are 9 am to 5 pm.  From November through February it closes a little earlier at 4:30 pm on weekdays.  Tickets to enter the grounds are $20 for adults and $7.50 for young adults (13-18).  Tickets for children ages 6 to 12 are only $4.50.  The restaurant opens earlier, at 8:30 am.

The southern porch looks out over a second alley of oaks that were planted by the Romans in the 1830s.  (The Stewarts, who owned the property from 1925 to 1972, added a few more oaks to the back alley in the 1930s.)  It is here on the back porch where you'll get a chance to order a few drinks to quench your thirst.  Tea and lemonade are available for the kids (including a virgin Mint Julep) and of course genuine Mint Juleps for the adults.  

We'll revisit Oak Alley for a look at the back alley and the slave quarter memorial, as well as the restaurant in our next post.  We'll save the tour of the house for our third installment, which will include the tragic story of the Romans.

And let's finish with one last look at the front of the house, as seen from the oaks.

My View of Rosedown Plantation (Part Three)

Rosedown Plantation, St. Francisville, Louisiana.

Today's post is the final look at the historic garden plantation, Rosedown.  After our introduction in part one, and our interior tour of the house in part two, we'll now take a final walk around the grounds.  And as promised, I'll introduce you to a friend we met along the way.

Just off the southwestern corner of the house, you'll find the formal gardens.  Admittedly, during our visit, there were not many flowers in bloom.  It was early September, and most of them were still in heat-check.  However, we did see plenty of marigolds, ageratum, phlox (white and pink), as well as flowering crepe myrtles and butterfly bushes.

But don't worry, in this view on the left, from the formal gardens, you can see that even the pond looks picturesque in the late morning sun.  

As I mentioned in the first post on Rosedown, Martha Turnbull was inspired by her trip to Europe in the 1850's to build these gardens, which eventually expanded to 28 acres of lush, carefully planned walks and gardens.  The old brick wall in this picture is what is left of the original conservatory, where many of the plants would have been carefully raised.

According the Louisiana State Park web site, these were some of the largest private gardens in the United States in the 19th century.

Midway down the grand Oak alley that approaches the house, you will see this view of the North Garden's fountain and summerhouse on the left.  There is a corresponding summerhouse in the South Garden.  The playful sounds of the fountain were a special addition to the stillness of the gardens.  

It would be very easy to lose yourself in the solitude and peace that shrouds these grounds like the Spanish moss on the oaks above.

  As soon as we arrived in the parking lot, this tough-looking fella crawled out from under a car and introduced himself.  He was eager to show us around.  After we paid the entrance fee (as of this date, the entrance fee is $10 a person) he accompanied us as we began our walk through the paths of the North Garden.  He was not in the least interested in the spider-webs that spanned the pathways, nor the menacing banana spiders that brooded in the center of them.  He was short enough to pass under them without giving them the least thought.

However, he was happy to have company, rubbing himself against my ankles as I stopped to take a few snapshots.  He even made sure to get my attention so that he would make it into my blog.  I only noticed he was gone when I heard him crashing through the bushes after a very noisy and frightened pigeon.

The sun-dappled privet hedges and paths provide plenty of opportunity for visitors to take in this breath-taking plantation.  For those of you who are gardening enthusiasts, the bookstore at Rosedown sells copies of Martha Turnbull's extensive gardening journals, which detail the intricacies of the preparation and maintenance processes necessary to create and sustain such impressive landscaping.

A link is provided at the end of this post if you are interested in the diary.

  

This map, which is provided at the beginning of the tour, gives you an idea of the scope of the Rosedown gardens.  During the 1950's restoration, great care was taken to use the most accurate varieties of plants they could find.  Using Martha's diary, they were able to recreate her antebellum world.  

Many thanks go out to the staff of Rosedown Plantation for their friendliness and hard work.  It made for an enjoyable stroll beneath spreading oak trees, cypress trees, and even the oldest pine tree in the state.  We won't soon forget this world that is well off the beaten path of all that is ordinary.

And one last bit of advice for visitors:  There is no restaurant on the grounds.  However, just down the road in St. Francisville, you'll see Sonny's Pizza, a local joint with some of the best pizza I've had in a long time.  Don't hesitate to check them out.

Like the photograph of the approach to Rosedown at the top of this post?  It is available as a coffee mug at the following link.

Rosedown Plantation Coffee Cup

My View of Rosedown Plantation (Part Two)

Rosedown Plantation, St. Francisville, Louisiana.

Having taken a tour of the grounds around Rosedown Plantation in our last post, as promised, I'll give you a tour of the interior of the home on this trip.

The foyer of the house grabs your attention as soon as you step in out of the sunlight.  This open entryway is colorfully decorated with a wall paper that, while not original to the house, is an exact copy of the original wall-covering, manufactured by the original European firm that first supplied the design over one hundred and fifty years ago.

The home remained in the hands of the original family from the time it was built, in the 1830's, until the mid 1950's.  At that time, Catherine Underwood, a Texan, purchased the estate and spent $10 million on a ten-year restoration.  This included researching and commissioning the recreation of the wall décor.

Our tour was conducted by a very friendly guide, Sasha, who was full of wonderful information on the restoration as well as the history of the home.  A few rules were stressed, including the requirement that we not use a flash with our camera, and we were asked not to touch anything in the home.  It was easy to see why.  All of the furniture was original, and you could tell.  Not that it looked old and used.  Far from it.  It was all in excellent and remarkable condition, considering the humidity of Louisiana.  (Now the home is air-conditioned, which was a nice treat on that hot summer day.)   But you could simply sense that these marvelous pieces were not merely imitation tables and chairs and divans.  The Turnbulls, the family that built Rosedown, were extremely wealthy, and they furnished their home accordingly.

Being wealthy in the America South of the early 19th century, they were slave-owners.  A large plantation, Rosedown included about 450 slaves at one time.  According to the guide, this stairway was built for the Turnbulls with the skilled carpentry of their slaves.  As she pointed out, after over one-hundred and fifty years, they are still solid, and do not even creak.  A testament to the slaves' skill.

However, these were not the only stairs in the house.

In the back of the house, in the butler's pantry, between the dining room and Mrs. Turnbull's office, you can see these stairs that were used by the house servants.  When the house was restored, these stairs were left as they were found, in order to preserve their condition for display.  As you can see, the edge of the wooden steps are heavily worn down from a century of use.

This view is from the second floor, as it goes down into the butler's pantry.  At the top of these stairs is the attic, which we were not allowed to see.  (What a disappointment!)  However, it was the only part of the house we were not allowed to see.  As house tours go, it was a very thorough tour with near-total access.  Something that is not always the case in historic homes.

The dining room was still flooded with morning light, despite the fact that it was after 11 AM.  Here in the dining room, there was one main meal of the day, eaten around two in the afternoon.  According to our guide, the fan above the table was operated by a young slave who sat on a seat against the wall.  Though the guide did not mention it, I wondered if they hired servants to do this after 1865.  I'm just glad the fan above our own table is electric.

Just outside the front of the house, off to one side, was a small office built for the family's doctor.  Martha Turnbull had three children; Sarah, who would eventually raise 10 children at Rosedown, and two boys, one of which died of yellow fever at the age of seven.  Hired to care for the children, the doctor remained to care for not only the family but the entire slave population.  It was a rarity for a plantation to have a doctor on site for the slaves.

The plantation was ravaged by Northern troops during the war, and Sarah's family (she married James Bowman from the nearby Oakley Plantation) kept the plantation in operation with the aid of 250 sharecroppers.

Upstairs in the master bedroom, there was this little collection of sundries.  The wedding dress off to the left was a reproduction of Sarah's original dress.  Along the way I also saw swords, wicker bustle supports, shotguns, and lots of personal papers.

The personal papers were well preserved from the family, who never seemed to throw out any papers.  Receipts, notes, lists, sheet music, and schoolwork; it was all there for the preservationists to discover and examine.  Many of them have been laid out so that visitors can catch a glimpse of the Turnbulls' daily lives.

The master bedroom was not particularly large.  However, considering that Sarah and James had ten children, it was a fairly large (and busy!) room in comparison to the three smaller rooms that were used for the children.

Sarah lived until 1914.  Her four unmarried daughters, Corrie, Isabel, Sarah and Nina, became the sole inhabitants of Rosedown.  When Nina, the last daughter, died in 1955, they had managed to keep Rosedown debt-free, as well as held onto 3,000 acres of land, 28 acres of gardens, the house and its furnishings.  They were remarkable women, considering everything the plantation had seen, including the Civil War and the Great Depression.

The nursery looked very cozy.  It must have been, with all of those kids!  I was amused to see a fireplace in the nursery.  We are so safety conscious today, the Turnbulls might have been brought up on reckless endangerment charges for having a fireplace in the nursery.  However, as the guide pointed out, how else would they have heated the room?  And as my wife pointed out, there was probably a nursemaid on duty to keep an eye on them.  Or maybe at that time, kids were just so used to seeing fires that they weren't tempted to play with them.  Yeah, sure.

As the tour came to an end, we ended up in the library.  This beautiful room was graced with three bookshelves, one of  which you can see in the picture here.  They were not built on site, but were ordered from abroad.  They were supposed to be made with the same dimensions, but when they arrived, it was discovered that they were not of equal size.  Instead of having them sent back and others made, it was decided to offset the chimney.  This was not such a difficult decision when slaves were available to do such labor-intensive work.  Still, it seems a bit extreme.  It is sort of comforting, however, to realize that even the extremely wealthy have to deal with things like this.

Sasha did a great job of showing off the house and its history.  We were the only ones on the tour, so it was an unhurried, quiet tour.  The guide even treated us to her own rendition of Beethoven's Für Elise on the Turnbull's pre-Civil War piano.  It still sounded amazing.  Again, a difficult feat in the Louisiana humidity.  And yes, I too saw the irony in her playing a piano on which stood a card that clearly read please do not touch.

So be sure to take the time to tour the inside of Rosedown while you're visiting the grounds.  There is much more to see than what I've included here.

Next post I'll show a bit more of the formal gardens as well as introduce you to a friend I met while we were there.

Like the photograph of the approach to Rosedown at the top of this post?  It is available as a coffee mug at the following link.

Rosedown Plantation Coffee Cup

My View of Rosedown Plantation (Part One)

Rosedown Plantation, St. Francisville, Louisiana.

The sun was shining strong the morning we drove north on US Highway 61.  Just about twenty minutes north of Baton Rouge, in the quiet, historic town of St. Francisville, we arrived at our destination: Rosedown Plantation.  It was a splendid September morning, perfect for taking in the natural beauty of this one-hundred-and-eighty-year-old estate.  After passing through the entrance, we paid the ten dollar entry fee (per person) and were directed to enter the grounds through a small path that led through tall azalea bushes and even taller cypress trees.  Spanish moss draped the canopy above.  Right away, we discovered that Spanish moss was not the only material hanging about.

Spread across the path were many large webs with these rather alarming looking banana spiders sitting directly in the center of them.  These are actually a fairly common site down here in Louisiana, as my kids can tell you from growing up in the country.  Run around playing hide and seek in the myrtle bushes and you're going to run into this yellow fellow eventually.  My wife can still remember her childhood experience of walking into a web and seeing the spider start towards her.  Her uncle pulled her out of the web in time to prevent her from being bitten but not soon enough to erase the nightmares.  Though everyone here calls them banana spiders, they are actually golden silk orb-weavers.  Their webs are spectacular works of art, and though they will bite and their venom is similar to a black-widow bite, it is far less powerful.  But I didn't want to test that theory.  However, once we were on the paths of the North Garden, there was no way to get out except under and around all the webs.  So we crouched, and walked very slowly until we made it out into the open approach to the house.

There were no identifying marks that I could find on
these statues, so this could either be one that
represented a season or any of the mythological characters.

As we stepped into the open, we were treated to an iconic view of the plantation house down a lengthy avenue of oak trees.  On an ancient brick base, I found a faded plaque which read:

STATUES: THE CARRARA MARBLE STATUES WERE PURCHASED IN ITALY IN 1851 WHEN MARTHA AND DANIEL TURNBULL AND THEIR DAUGHTER, SARAH, TOURED EUROPE.  THOSE ALONG THE AVENUE ARE NAMED FOR MYTHOLOGICAL CHARACTERS AND THE SEASONS.  THE FOUR FACING ROSEDOWN HOUSE REPRESENT THE CONTNENTS (sic).

There was no statue on this base.  There were several bases which seemed to be missing their statues.  However, there were still several of the statues in attendance along the avenue, and the four figures representing the continents still face the house.  I wanted to linger along the avenue, however, the house tour was about to begin, as it was 10:55 and the tours begin every hour on the hour.  So we walked through the shade of the oaks and approached the front porch.

The front approach to the house, as seen from its
balcony.  Two of the Carrara marble statures that
represent the continents can be seen on the left.

The stately feel of that approach is truly spectacular.  These formal gardens were designed and built over a twenty year period under the direction of Martha Turnbull after that grand tour of Europe.  She is said to have been influenced heavily by the formal gardens she saw there.  I can believe it.  Having recently been to Versailles and the Tuileries gardens, I can say that Rosedown, while not as large as those sites, can certainly stand in their company without shame.  Rosedown's gardens were in fact some of the only formal gardens found in the United States in the 19th century.

Rosedown is far too extensive and fascinating to cover it in one blog, so I'll stop here for now.  Next post we'll look at the interior of the house.  A third post will cover the formal gardens.

The avenue of oaks leads to this idyllic walkway, which leads to the front porch.  It was easy to imagine
riding up the avenue in a carriage.  Despite the heat of the day, it was pleasant under the shade of the oaks.

This lady was surrounded by Spanish
moss, azaleas, and banana spiders.

Like the photograph of the approach to Rosedown at the top of this post?  It is available as a coffee mug at the following link.

Rosedown Plantation Coffee Cup