The Great Days of the Garden District, and the Old City of Lafayette

In Short

Combining local history with a house-by-house architectural survey, this book serves as both a historical record and a guide for visitors to New Orleans’ famed Garden District. It documents the transformation of former plantation land into a prosperous residential center during the mid-19th century, exploring the cultural, economic, and political shifts that shaped the area. Originally compiled to support the Louise S. McGehee School, the text preserves the legacy of the neighborhood through detailed descriptions of its landmark mansions, their structural nuances, and the prominent families who once called them home.

The Story

The narrative begins by grounding the reader in the physical and social geography of the City of Lafayette during the mid-1800s. It paints a vivid picture of a bustling, distinct municipality—complete with its own courthouse, theater, and social life—that operated just upriver from the established Vieux Carré. The authors guide us through the sights of the era: the noisy crowds at the Jackson Market, the flatboats lining the Mississippi, and the daily concerns of citizens navigating both the physical dangers of the riverfront and the legal complexities of land ownership, such as the long-standing Poultney inheritance suit.

As the text moves forward, it explains the transition of the area from a series of agricultural concessions granted by French colonial authorities to an elegant residential district. The integration of the Faubourg Livaudais into the City of Lafayette in 1833, coupled with the introduction of the New Orleans and Carrollton Railroad, catalyzed this shift. Wealthy merchants and socialites sought out these verdant, silt-rich lands to build homes that reflected their prosperity. The story of the Garden District is told through the rise and fall of these properties, which weathered the encroaching chaos of the Civil War, the sorrow of yellow fever epidemics, and the slow, inexorable decay of time.

The latter half of the book shifts focus toward preservation. It highlights how, in the mid-20th century, a renewed interest in the district’s heritage led to the careful restoration of these crumbling mansions. The authors provide specific histories for a series of iconic homes, such as the Frank G. Strachan House—the final residence of Jefferson Davis—and the George G. Westfeldt House. Each entry functions as a biographical sketch of the structure itself, noting the original builders, the architectural styles (from Greek Revival to Italianate), and the modern families who have taken on the arduous task of maintaining these historic sites against the pressures of urbanization and neglect.

The final arc of the work serves as a testament to the endurance of the neighborhood. It argues that the Garden District remains a living historical document. By cataloging the efforts of groups like the Garden District Property Owners Association and individual homeowners to protect the ironwork, gardens, and interior craftsmanship of these houses, the book frames the neighborhood not as a static museum piece, but as a evolving environment where the past is constantly being negotiated. The narrative concludes by linking the district’s survival to a wider appreciation of Louisiana’s unique cultural landscape, ensuring that the stories of the people who shaped this "city within a city" are not lost to the progress of the coming century.

How It Unfolds

The colonial foundation The account opens by tracing the early French exploration of the Mississippi River and the granting of land concessions by Bienville. It establishes the original geography of the region, from the Vieux Carré upriver to what would eventually become the Garden District.

The City of Lafayette The narrative shifts to the 1840s and 1850s, describing the vibrant, independent life of Lafayette. We see the city through the eyes of its residents, from the bustling riverfront markets to the theatrical performances and the ongoing legal battles over land titles.

A transition to elegance The middle section explores the rapid development of the Garden District as a residential haven for the wealthy. It details the arrival of the railroad and the subdivision of plantations, which paved the way for the grand homes that define the neighborhood’s aesthetic.

War and upheaval The book addresses the profound impact of the Civil War, noting the departure of men to the front and the physical and psychological toll on the community. It highlights the stories of prominent figures, such as Bishop Leonidas Polk, who bridged the divide between the religious and military life of the South.

The era of restoration The final chapters focus on the 20th-century preservation movement. Through individual house studies, the authors catalog the shift from neglect back to pride, showing how new owners restored iron lace, gardens, and interiors to preserve the district’s antebellum character.

The People

The book presents a cast of characters who embody the aspirations of a rising merchant class. James Robb, the celebrated millionaire, represents the ambition of the era, famously planning to build a "real palace" that would define the prestige of the Garden District. John Layton, a young boy growing up in the district, provides the reader with a vital, ground-level perspective of a child navigating a world of flatboatmen, dancing masters, and city fires. Bishop Leonidas Polk stands as a figure of transition, a man of the cloth who turned to the sword, symbolizing the deep entanglement of the district’s leaders in the conflicts of the 1860s. Isaac Delgado, who rose from a young immigrant nephew to a major philanthropist, illustrates the economic potential and eventual civic generosity associated with the city’s successful families. Finally, the local owners and preservationists, such as Dr. Terry and the various families mentioned in the house studies, act as the final keepers of the story. Their struggle to maintain 18-inch-thick brick walls and delicate garden parterres shows how they define themselves through the stewardship of their physical surroundings, ultimately ensuring the neighborhood’s longevity.

In Its Own Voice

"The river front as far as the boy could see was lined with flatboats, the ugly but extremely practical box-like floating storehouses, their 'broadhorns' shipped and nestling so close to each other that one could walk for miles along their cabintops."

This observation captures the bustling, rugged reality of the Mississippi riverfront that once defined the life and commerce of the City of Lafayette.

"If a gate is left open for a minute, choice rose bushes suffer and the rare plants of the most careful training are ruined."

The authors use this mundane complaint about stray livestock to illustrate the intense, protective relationship the residents held with their prized gardens.

"A theater in Lafayette, a suburb of New Orleans, was opened under the management of Mr. Oliver this season."

This quote introduces an early, somewhat tragic account of a local entertainment venture that struggled against both the cholera epidemic and the eccentricities of frontier theatrical management.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an inquiry into the relationship between architecture and collective memory. It asks how a physical space—a collection of mansions, gardens, and streets—can serve as a vessel for a community’s identity. The authors are concerned with the fragility of history; they argue that the preservation of these buildings is essential for understanding the social, economic, and cultural layers of New Orleans. The book implicitly grapples with the question of whether a neighborhood can truly be "saved" from the passage of time, suggesting that while the original inhabitants and the original city of Lafayette have long since vanished, the built environment provides a necessary anchor that allows the past to remain present in the modern world.

Why Read It Today

This book is essential for anyone interested in the intersection of urban planning, architectural history, and the specific, storied landscape of New Orleans. Readers who appreciate the slow, methodical pace of a house tour will find the detailed entries on structural features—from "keyhole" doorframes to the specific varieties of azaleas in a side garden—deeply satisfying. It feels like a labor of love, written with a commitment to local records and personal history that is increasingly rare.

However, the reader should be prepared for the book’s specific origin. As a 1961 publication written to support a private school, it possesses a certain period formality and a clear reverence for the elite families of the era. It does not shy away from the romanticized view of "antebellum life," reflecting the attitudes of the time in which it was written. While it provides a fascinating, well-researched look at the district’s evolution, it is a document of its own era as much as it is a history of the 19th century. If you are looking for a guide that rewards patience with a granular, vivid, and deeply grounded understanding of how a neighborhood’s physical character reflects its social aspirations, this book will remain a rewarding, informative companion.