The stately three-story home at 1140 Royal St. in the French Quarter has
been a fixture since the mid 1800s. It currently sits empty and quiet
with just a sign hanging outside and crumpled permit papers
taped to the windows. The sign reads "The LaLaurie Mansion" in black,
spooky type. Tour guides lead visitors to the corner of the building and
recount the story of the mad Madame LaLaurie, the Creole
socialite who afflicted unspeakable acts of torture on her slaves. That
tale has stuck to the home throughout the decades, but some researchers
don't believe the hype created by the often dramatized
accounts written in newspapers. Evidence suggests that the city vilified
an innocent person.
The legend from articles in newspapers like The Bee
goes that the LaLauries bought the home in 1831. They were prominent
citizens; locally-born Madame Delphine LaLaurie and Monsieur
LaLaurie, who was her third husband and a doctor from France, were the
toast of Creole society. Madame LaLaurie was charming and beautiful, but
rumors began circulating of mistreatment of their slaves. One
account claimed that a young girl was being chased around the house by
Madame LaLaurie and fell from the third story or roof, and her body was
buried in the courtyard during the night. There was an
investigation into the allegations, yet Madame LaLaurie had intrigued
the detective, and he couldn't believe that she could be that cruel.
On April 10, 1834, a fire broke out in the home. When
firefighters arrived, Madame asked them to save the furnishings, saying,
"…never mind about the slaves." But hearing from neighbors
that they were chained, the firefighters entered the third floor and
were horrified upon seeing them. The slaves were mutilated and near
death, some even the subjects of experiments like sex changes.
The Courier Newspaper printed that the slaves were taken to the
Cabildo with wounds filled with worms and holes drilled in their skulls.
Thousands of citizens brought them nourishment while
marveling at their conditions. Outraged by this torture, they formed a
mob and attempted to capture Madame LaLaurie, but she escaped by
carriage and boat to the Northshore and eventually to France.
According to a grave marker found in the mid-20th century in St. Louis
Cemetery No. 1, she died at the age of 68 in 1842.
Beginning soon after the incident, newspapers slammed Madame LaLaurie; The Bee (L'Abeille)
even called her "The Lady Nero." The home was changed into a music
conservatory, a school for black and white girls, apartments
for Italian men, and even a bar called Haunted Saloon, but businesses
never lasted long, some citing ghosts as the problem. One owner claimed
his furniture kept getting ruined by vandals who would smear a
foul black liquid on the upholstery. He waited around one night to
catch them, but no one came. When he saw the furniture again,
it had the liquid on it. He promptly sold the home. The eccentric son of
a French general, Jules Edward Vignie, squatted in the house for years
and was found dead in 1892 on a tattered cot surrounded by
art, precious objects, and lots of hidden cash.
After his demise, an article ran on March 13, 1892, in The Daily Picayune (eventually, The Times Picayune).
Marik Point writes in "The Haunted House" that he wants to dispel myths
created by writer George Washington Cable, which Point
believed were probably dramatized to the point of fiction for newspapers
and books. Point writes, "How much of the story is true, and how much
the creation of Mr. Cable's fancy, the old Creoles of New
Orleans will tell you." Throughout the article that includes hand-drawn
pictures and long descriptions of the home, Point says that
the injuries of the slaves Cable described were exaggerated, but goes
into great detail of the mob going after LaLaurie's carriage, then
killing the horses after she escaped and destroying her home
by ransacking then burning it.
The bad press kept
coming through the decades; more publications asserted that Madame
LaLaurie was a sadist. In a 1912 article in The Daily Picayune,
Henriette Fuller van Pelt, a wealthy citizen recounting her
life, stated, "Madame LaLaurie was a degenerate. I recognize that fact
now. She was crazy."
It wasn't until 1934, 100 years
after the incident, that someone researched beyond the typical stories.
In an article titled "Was Madame LaLaurie the Victim of a Foul Plot?"
printed in The Times Picayune on February 4, Meigs
Frost asserts that Delphine LaLaurie was blameless. Frost uncovered a
complex familial connection between her and her neighbor Monsieur
Montreuil, who is described in the early newspaper accounts as
telling firemen that the slaves were chained. Frost believes that
Montreuil started rumors of slave torture, even requesting
investigations because Madame was the business administrator
of her brother's (L.B. Macarty) estate, which Montreuil was a
beneficiary of and had disputes with her over property. He cites
numerous legal notices posted in newspapers during the 1840s
and 50s from when she sued the executors who took commission from the
estate at the Louisiana Supreme Court and won. I also found these
notices in the newspaper databases at UNO's Louisiana
Collection, with her name displayed on every one. Moreover, this
suggests that she never left the city, as Frost says, and moved to
Treme. He also mentions that the home was never ransacked
because the documents from that time were still there and intact, as
well as the furnishings.
Later accounts continued to
believe there was torture, but softened the blows slightly. A 1970s
article about George Cable recounts his book about Madame LaLaurie,
saying "…the beautiful but brutal Madame LaLaurie allegedly
tortured her slaves." Fred Darkis, Jr. writes in Louisiana History
in 1982, "Nineteenth-century authors were not kind to Madame LaLaurie.
Undoubtedly, they made mistakes. It must also be admitted that
these writers were not in complete agreement with respect to details or
bits of information." He believed that the newspapers highly
sensationalized the account, which led to a firm belief by most that she
was a ruthless beast. In his 2010 book Haunted New Orleans, Troy
Taylor describes, "Horrible things happened in this house -
horrible enough to earn the house a reputation that still lingers almost
two centuries later." He also describes her as "…cruel, cold-blooded
and possibly insane…"
A pair of writers recently
released a fact-based book about the LaLauries, attempting to discredit
the myth once and for all, beginning by exploring their early lives to
reporting on their deaths. Victoria Love and Lorelei Shannon
released Mad Madame LaLaurie in 2011. Foremost, they question why
Louis LaLaurie, Delphine's husband, was left out of all accusations and
believes that he, in fact, committed the horrific acts,
conducting medical experiments on the unwilling slaves to further his
knowledge of medicine. They found that Delphine petitioned to
free one slave on October 26, 1832, and petitioned for separation from
Louis on November 16, 1832, possibly because she did not like what he
did to their slaves. Love and Shannon do believe that some
indications of abuse were found, such as women with heavy iron collars
on their necks, and they assert that the LaLauries fled the city. They
uncovered a series of letters from Madame in France to her
family in New Orleans and one from Louis in Cuba in 1842. The writers
claimed that the grave plaque found in St. Louis Cemetery was a hoax
meant to make New Orleanians believe she was dead when she
arrived in New Orleans to live out her life, dying in the 1850s. Another
grave in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, the same where Marie Laveau is
buried, bears her name with the later date.
It's been rumored that a movie will be made about the event, or the
home will be turned into a museum. Through all of its incarnations, it
was owned in 2007 through 2009 by actor and part-time resident
Nicholas Cage, who has been known for his many, sometimes strange,
holdings here. It was sold for nearly three million dollars, but further
information about the future of the home is unknown. The
terrifying story, true or fiction, is forever burned into this city's
memory--a scene that was depicted in a gruesome diorama in the former
Musée Conti Wax Museum where Madame LaLaurie was shown
overseeing her henchman whip one slave, who was bound, while others
looked on in horror in a dark attic. The truth will probably never be
known, and so it remains the most haunted house in the city
and one with a tortured past.