New Orleans, the Founding Era

One of the most interesting aspects of New Orleans’ ongoing tricentennial is the fact that the city ever began at all—the oft-battered, never-beaten, eminently historical city seems more like something that would have already been here to startle colonists, like the opossum. Nevertheless, build it someone did, and while we may occasionally wish those optimistic Frenchmen had chosen a slightly different spot than the watery wonderland we know, we’re all still glad they did. These first few years of the city are explored and celebrated in a new exhibit at the Historic New Orleans Collection, titled New Orleans, the Founding Era. The exhibition will be on display until May 27.

The exhibit is a true triumph of curation; historian and curator Erin Greenwald has secured the loan of over seventy-five objects from prestigious institutions in the United States, Canada, Spain, and France. They paint a picture of a tenuous world, little redoubts of Europe clinging to the Gulf’s edge, as Spain, Britain, and France vied for control of a territory none of them terribly prioritized, but didn’t want the others—or God forbid, the Dutch—to monopolize. The balancing act between France and Spain was essentially delicate; the two kingdoms were ruled by Bourbon cousins allied in a “family pact” but remained wary of each other’s designs in the Gulf. Early maps remind visitors of the minuscule footprint the fledgling city had in its first years—and even those maps of a truncated French Quarter are optimistically rendered, with less of the land being cleared than they display. The poorest early residents lived literally on the edge of town, exposed to dangers from animals who roamed the woods that still covered what would eventually become the Treme.

The exhibit is inclusive, taking special care to record, to the extent possible, the women, Africans, poor, and Native Americans who were often not considered the “actors” of history. The paper trail of these groups can be sparse, especially for Native populations, who did not use writing systems before European arrival. Nevertheless, the exhibit takes pains to tell these populations’ stories, using slave ships’ manifests and rare artifacts to show what life might have been like for these populations on the edge of the “official” story of history.

The greatest draw, though, is the objects themselves. Gorgeous illustrations from colonial archives in France show the city as it bloomed onto land from the imaginations of the architects of empire. A gigantic steel press, marked with a cross, looks like it would be the terror of heretics until you read that it was, in fact, what the city’s early Ursuline nuns used to make Communion wafers. A deerskin, soft and supple, was tanned in 2017, but by heritage craftworkers who keep ancient methods alive. (Those methods, incidentally, involve using the animal’s brain as a source of natural oils.) The exhibit marries the familiar feeling of New Orleans’ glee at celebrating itself with the intellectual curiosity of a strong historian, capped with the evocative value only fascinating physical objects can survive. New Orleans, the Founding Era would be worth a steep admission price; as it is free and open to the public, it’s one of the best deals since the Louisiana Purchase. An accompanying book, in French and English, is a worthy addition to any library. hnoc.org.

This article also appeared in our April 2018 issue. Subscribe to our print magazine today.