Monday, July 27, 2020

The Mandeville Yacht Club - 1893

Mandeville area sailors launched the Mandeville Yacht Club in the summer of 1893. It may not have been the first sailboat club in the area, and it certainly wasn't the last.

Sailing off the Mandeville Lakefront
Here are some articles from the St. Tammany Farmer telling of the yacht club's organization and activities. Click on the images to make them larger and more readable.

See also:

Sunday, July 26, 2020

Building Your Own Home in the 1800's

Homebuilding today is different than it was in the early 1800's.

We turn again to the writings of Polly Morris for a fascinating and detailed account of how Jacques, a poor but determined woodsman in St. Tammany, acquired the tools, cut down the trees, and fashioned the lumber that made it possible for him to build a home for his family.

With a little help from his neighbors, the frames were lifted into place, fastened together, and at last his family had a shingled roof over their heads. The article comes from the Feb. 11, 1976, issue of the St. Tammany News-Banner.

The House That Jacques Built

By Polly Morris, Feature Writer

    The many gracious old homes of St. Tammany were built for gracious people. They are truly things of beauty because their owners could afford the very best in craftsmen and materials.

    But what about the houses that Jacques built?

    Jacques was an ordinary man of the early 1800's, uneducated and almost penniless. He barely eked a living out of the wilderness of St. Tammany and was a Jacques-of-all-trades in his struggle for survival.

    He hunted, he trapped, he fished, he farmed. And he was a tar burner and a producer of charcoal. His worldly possessions were few. A gun, a foot axe, a knife, a hoe, and a spade. His ramshackle hut was built of boughs and bark and palmetto.

    But Jacques had a great love for his growing family, and an even greater determination to do his very best for them. The thing they needed most was a good strong house, and he often lay awake at night, planning on a two-room structure that would stand on a rise that he had cleared by felling trees for firewood.

    He would have to buy metal parts for the needed tools one by one, and make handles for them out of hickory.

    Jacques wished the sawmill was not so far away. Though he could not afford to buy lumber, he could float timber to the mill and get half back in sawed pieces. It would save time, but Jacques had as little time as money. And there was a whole forest for the taking, at his leisure.

Gathering the Construction Materials

    Jacques was a woodsman, and he depended on the forest for almost everything, in one way or another. It provided him with berries and nuts and acorns, and was a shelter for the animals he hunted. He knew which plants made medicine, which wood the best bowls and spoons.

    Jacques even slept on springy Spanish moss, and kept warm in winter with firewood that had been cut at the right time of the moon.

    Jacques had to wait until he had money for some simple tools, but he was not idle. He went into the friendly forest with his foot axe and girdled the best trees. He selected cypress for the framing of his house, and fragrant pine for the flooring.

    The girdling was cutting through the bark all around the tree. It would kill the tree which would dry out standing up, and be partly seasoned when he came back to cut it down.

    Jacques found an old oak that had been dead for some time, and he took home some of it. At night he could sit by the fire and make gluts and treenails, or trunnels as he called them. 

Gluts were wooden wedges that could be used in place of expensive metal ones. The trunnels were wooden pegs that would serve lime iron nails that were scarce and costly. He even made a latch of oak and hinges of hickory. And a wooden maul.

Buying Necessary Tools

    At last he had enough coins to buy a broadaxe and a wedge of steel. The broadaxe was a wicked ten pound tool with a wide blade, with the one beveled edge as sharp as saw grass. He took both axes into the forest and also the three wedges. With his foot axe he cut down the girled trees, then he made deep notches along the rounded top of the tree for its full length.

    He turned the tree over so that the notches would be on the side, and went to work with the broadaxe. He hacked the wood away from between the notches until the entire side was flat. Then he turned the tree again and cut more notches. Finally, the round tree was a rouge square beam.

    Some of the logs were  split into halves and squares. This Jacques did by driving a metal wedge into the log with the maul. It made a crack along the log, so he inserted a glut into the crack and drove it in as far as it would go. The log split neatly. Jacques stacked the lumber loosely so it could season more. He now had the sills, studs, rafters and beams for his house.

Tools For Drilling and Shingling

    Jacques spent his last money on three tools: a chisel, a froe and an auger. With the chisel, he shaped the ends of the beams and the sills so that the heavy studs would fit into each one like a three-dimensional jig-saw puzzle.

    He bored holes in the joints with the auger so that an oaken trunnel could be driven through the joint with the maul. The froe was an L-shaped piece of metal that he laid with the grain of a large chunk of cypress. When sharply hit with the wooden mallet, the shingles would split neatly, one after another. It required no great strength or skill, and was somewhat of a fun job that could be done sitting down.

    Jacques would have liked to have had an adze, but he had no money, so he used the broadaxe instead, becoming so adept that the planks had an almost adze look, leaving the planks without splinters.

    Jacques also wished he had a whip saw, for with it he could cut smoother and longer lengths of lumber quicker. But he would need another man to help him because he could not work the long saw alone. He would have to get down in a pit with the log balanced overhead and pull the saw down, while his partner pulled it back up again.

Calling on The Neighbors

    Jacques wanted to do as much as possible on his own home, so he built sections of the frame on the ground. Only then did he invite the neighbors to help him, which they were glad to do because there was so little amusement in St. Tammany in those times.   

    Despite hard work, it was also a sort of a holiday, too. Jacques brought home some wild game, and his wife cooked it. Neighbors brought food and their own tools. The men raised the sections of the heavy frame with push poles and ropes and brute strength. The drove many trunnels into augered holes to hold it together.

    They secured the shingles with smaller wooden pegs, and when they were finished they went for a swim in the bayou. The women set out the food, and the feast went on until long after dark. They departed with pine knot torches to light their way.

    The next day Jacques made holes through the uprights. He collected twigs and sticks and shoved them through the holes. This would help hold the bousillage. Jacques made this from mud and moss and deer hair that he had scraped from hides. He filled the spaces between the studs with this mixture which would dry almost to the hardness of brick.

    The family could not wait until the house was finished to move in. It was spring and the unfinished house was better than the shack they had lived in for years. Even without its doors or shutters it was as safe from prowling animals as had been the flimsy structure of boughs and bark, but to be safe Jacques hastily made a batten door of scraps of leftover lumber and hung hides over the windows until he could make shutters.

    Window glass was sold only in New Orleans and was considered a luxury.  Screening had not been invented yet.

    Jacques was too excited to sleep well during the first night in his new home. He tossed about on his moss mattress and planned how he would make a clay chimney and a fireplace of crude homemade bricks. He must remember to keep an oak log for burning at night. It did not throw off sparks that might cause a fire in his wonderful new home.

    He looked up at the rafters and saw the marks of his axe and knew that his children's children would tell their children about young Jacques hewing those very timbers for the generations that would come after him. He knew it was not as fancy as the fine houses he had seen in the town, but his was not built with money. It was built with sweat and blood and sacrifice. But most of all, it was built with love.

St. Tammany News Banner 
February 11, 1976

Friday, July 24, 2020

Grayhawk Perkins Tells About the Area and Its Music

Native American historian Grayhawk Perkins starts with a canoe trip on Cane Bayou and brings Go Coast host Tom Gregory to Ruby’s Roadhouse for his band’s gig with the late Coco Robicheaux.

Click on PLAY TRIANGLE below to view the video. If there are problems, CLICK ON THIS LINK to go directly to the video on YouTube.

The video is a production of, the website outreach of the St. Tammany Parish Tourist & Convention Commission.

Thursday, July 23, 2020

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

"Faces & Places: A 200 Year Madisonville Pictorial"

In 2011 Rusty Burns put together a video featuring a number of old photos of the Madisonville area. It was compiled by Burns for the enjoyment of the community and to perpetuate the history of Madisonville, Louisiana, which was celebrating its Bicentennial at the time.

To view the video CLICK HERE and then press the play triangle shape.

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Baron Frederick Emile d'Erlanger

 Erlanger Street in Olde Towne Slidell is named after a prominent historical figure who had some deep connections with European financiers and the development of the railroad throughout the South. 

The personal history of Barron Frederick Emile d'Erlanger was discussed in a February 2016 article in the North Kentucky Tribune newspaper. It was written by Paul A. Tenkotte, a researcher exploring the history of Erlanger, Kentucky. Here it is reprinted as a highlight connected with Slidell History. 

Our Rich History: Erlanger and the d’Erlanger and Churchill families — unraveling a historical puzzle
Feb 22nd, 2016 - by Paul A. Tenkotte

 Barron Frederick Emile d’Erlanger, 1869. Source: Wayne Onkst, ed., From Buffalo Trails to the Twenty-First Century: A Centennial History of Erlanger, Kentucky.
The Article
by Paul A. Tenkotte follows:

The hefty package in my mailbox in Spring 1985 bore the return address of Mrs. Winston Churchill of Broadwater House in England. I anxiously unwrapped the contents and found therein a copy of Baron Emile B. d’Erlanger’s Quelques Souvenirs de France (Some Memories of France). The unraveling of an historical puzzle had begun.

I had long wondered whom Erlanger, Kentucky, was named for. Myths abounded, so I was determined to search for the truth. The historical journey surprised all of us.

The Erlanger family had deep roots in Germany, France, and Great Britain. It had been one of the world’s premier banking families. In fact, as investment bankers, the Erlangers played a vital role in financing large projects throughout the British Empire. Its clients included Cecil Rhodes, the British South Africa Company, the Confederate States of America, railroads throughout the world, and the Austro-Hungarian, Greek, Norwegian, Portuguese, Prussian, and Swedish governments. Their investments spanned five continents—Africa, Asia, Europe, North America, and South America.

Löb Moses (1780–1857) Erlanger moved to Frankfurt am Main in today’s Germany in 1816. There, he earned his fortune as an exchange broker. The family, originally known as “von Erlanger,” was Jewish, like many of the premier banking families of Europe.

Ludwig’s son, Baron Raphael von Erlanger (1806–1878), converted to Christianity. Raphael also worked as an exchange broker and, by about 1840, founded a bank in Frankfurt am Main. By 1865, the family’s banking operations were known as “von Erlanger & Söhne” (“von Erlanger and Sons”). From Frankfurt am Main, they eventually opened branch operations in Vienna, Austria; Paris, France; and London, England.
The Erlanger Depot, circa 1910. Source: Wayne Onkst, ed., From Buffalo Trails to the Twenty-First Century: A Centennial History of Erlanger, Kentucky.
Raphael’s son, Baron Emile Frédéric d’Erlanger (1832–1911; also called Frederick Emile d’Erlanger) moved to France, where he directed operations of the family’s Parish branch.

There he began referring to himself by the French name “d’Erlanger.” In France, he met his future wife, Marguérite Mathilde Slidell, the daughter of John Slidell, the Confederate States of America’s commissioner to France.

Mathilde and her father left Cuba for Europe aboard the Trent, a British mail ship. In November 1861, Union forces captured the ship. The resulting “Trent Affair” caused an international crisis that almost drew Great Britain into the American Civil War.

Mathilde was permitted to continue to Europe, but her father and James Murray Mason, Confederate commissioner to England, were imprisoned. Finally, British pressure forced Abraham Lincoln’s administration to release them.

Frederick Emile d’Erlanger married Mathilde Slidell in October 1864. She was a Roman Catholic, and they raised their four sons as Catholics. In 1870, the d’Erlanger family left Paris during the Franco-Prussian War for London, England. In London, their banking operations became known as “Erlangers Limited” in 1928.

Upon the death of his father in 1878, Frederick Emile’s younger brother, Ludwig (1836–1898) became chief of the Frankfurt and Vienna operations, which were eventually sold in 1904.

The Erlanger family floated the only foreign loan to the Confederate States of America, called the “Erlanger Loan.” In addition, they financed the second transatlantic telegraph cable. Completed in 1869, it connected France to the United States. In 1882, Frederick Emile d’Erlanger became a member of the board of the Channel Tunnel Company, and its Chairman in 1901.

After the Civil War, Frederick Emile d’Erlanger gained majority control over more than 1,100 miles of railroads in the American South, including the Alabama Great Southern, and the Cincinnati, New Orleans and Texas Pacific Railway (CNO&TP). The CNO&TP leased the municipally-owned Cincinnati Southern Railroad, connecting Cincinnati, Ohio to Chattanooga, Tennessee.

The Erlanger Depot, circa 1910. Source: Wayne Onkst, ed., From Buffalo Trails to the Twenty-First Century: A Centennial History of Erlanger, Kentucky.

The Cincinnati Southern, completed in 1877, crossed the Ohio River at Ludlow, Kentucky, and then began a steady climb up the hills of Kenton County. At what is now Erlanger, Kentucky, a train depot was built, along with a reservoir. Both were named Greenwood Lake for Miles Greenwood, President of the Board of Trustees of the Cincinnati Southern Railroad. The reservoir supplied water for the railroad’s steam engines.

 Mrs. Winston (Minnie d’Erlanger) Churchill and Dr. Paul A. Tenkotte, October 2011, Erlanger, Kentucky.

In the early 1880s, the citizens of Greenwood Lake applied to the federal government for a post office, but the overused name of Greenwood was rejected. Consequently, the residents suggested the name Erlanger, in honor of Frederick Emile d’Erlanger.

During an 1889 trip to the United States to examine his railroad holdings, Baron d’Erlanger donated $5,000 to establish a hospital in Chattanooga that bore his wife’s name, Baroness Erlanger Hospital. It is now called Erlanger Medical Center.
Frederick Emile d’Erlanger’s son, Emile B. (Beaumont) d’Erlanger (1866-1939), assumed control of Erlangers Limited.

Following in the footsteps of his father’s interest in the Channel Tunnel Company, Emile B. became a member of the board of the channel project in 1905, and its Chairman in 1911. The Erlanger family remained early and ardent supporters of the famous “chunnel” between England and France, which was finally completed in 1994.

Emile B. d’Erlanger’s children included Gerard John Regis Leo Baron d’Erlanger (1906-1962), who was commandant of the Air Transport Auxiliary for Great Britain during World War II. He later served as Chairman of the British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC). His daughter (and Frederick Emile d’Erlanger’s great-granddaughter) is Minnie Caroline d’Erlanger.

In 1964, Minnie married Winston Spencer-Churchill (1940-2010), the grandson of noted Prime Minister Winston Churchill (1874-1965). In October 2011, Minnie d’Erlanger Churchill visited Erlanger, Kentucky, where she was honored.

Author note:

Paul A. Tenkotte ( is Professor of History and Director of the Center for Public History at NKU.

Link to the original article

Monday, July 13, 2020

Horse Business -1984

In October of 1984, some 36 years ago, Northshore Magazine ran a comprehensive article on the topic of horses in St. Tammany, in particular the horse industry in all its aspects. It contained many interesting statistics, political observations and business-oriented tips for the newcomers to the parish seeking to get in on the action.

Here is the text of the article:

The Horse Industry on the Northshore

By Garry Boulard/Photography by Harriet Blum

To call it a horseman's paradise may actually be missing the point. To talk of the many farms and even more horses that dot the map of St. Tammany might be an understatement. To point out the interesting state tax incentives available to the horsing industry could sink the argument into a trivial mass of numbers.

Instead, it might be more appropriate to say—simply—that St. Tammany parish is rapidly becoming one of the best areas in the entire country for the delicate art of horsebreeding.

The reasons for this dramatic evolution are as varied and numerous as the types of trees one might find in the same backroad trails regularly traveled upon by the many horses and their friends.

While various breeds trot and gallop in large, sometimes rolling fields across the parish, seemingly oblivious to the role they are playing in the region's economic well-being, state record keepers in Baton Rouge have been looking at some figures—and almost all of them agree that St. Tammany parish is the heart and soul of Louisiana's quietest and healthiest business: horse breeding.

The folks who pour over these official numbers will find that in 1969  there was a grand total of 608 Louisiana-bred -foals. The leaders in this newly expanding business took heart. The figure in 1961 was only 142.

Yet, to trace what has happened since would require a slide rule big enough to be called Herculean. Within the next decade, the state's breeding business exploded and St. Tammany was the busiest parish. By 1982, there were more than 2,350 foals-an all-time record--from 1,150 breeders.

Industry estimates point to yet another record for 1984—perhaps more than 2,500 foals statewide. Once again, St. Tammany breeders will probably lead the way.

In a meandering Iine that would start just north of Slidell can be found the proof of the parish horsing industry's vitality. Following this line down shady, gravel roads that seem to be a far cry from the inhabited thruways of Slidell's Cause Boulevard, one sees large, spacious farms filled with gallant stallions and sleek mares.

More than likely, the horses would be in clusters of two or three. Many of them would be found in the backyards of neighborhood houses.

Our line of travel would take us on a scenic route of the parish. From Slidell to the rural outlying areas of Mandeville and Covington. Eventually the scenery would change from large, flat ground to slightly rolling hills. By the time the road reached Folsom, the trees would become less dense, and horses by the dozens would appear out of nowhere.

"All kinds of people are getting into the horse business," said Peggy Authement, the manager of Authement Quarter Horses in Folsom. "While there have been a lot of bigger farms starting up in the last couple of years, I'd say most of the activity has been with the families who have moved up here and decided to get a horse or two."

"Someone was telling me not too long ago that about ten years ago we were one of only about two or three quarter horse ranches in the entire area," Mrs. Authement continued. "Now every Tom, Dick, and Harry has a quarter horse operation. In some ways it's been good for the business and in other ways it's been bad."

As St. Tammany's population exploded in the mid and late 1970s, the horse industry reacted in kind. Former New Orleanians who decided to take on the country life found that one of their first priorities became finding a nice home in a rural, unsettled area. Their second task was probably getting a horse.

Continued Authement; "In this day and age, people need hobbies. It can be anything from knitting to horses. A lot of people have gotten into the business by buying just one backyard animal. Then maybe they thought 'Well, let's
breed this mare we've got. Why not breed it with a good stallion and see what we come up with?' Before you know it, they're in business."

The Authement farm, located on Bush-Folsom Road, started up in the comparatively docile days of the mid-1960s. Dr. E.G. Authement is the founder of the business.

A stickler for perfection in his horses, the doctor invested thousands of dollars into his animals in order to get the purest quarter horses in these parts. Almost twenty years later, Authement's colts go for anywhere from $3000 to $10,000. A top of the line colt might actually bring upwards of $20,000.

Customers who spend such big money, however, almost invariably realize an early profit on their investment.

"Within a year a real good halter quality baby can earn back everything you've bought it for," said Mrs. Authement. "They're going to run for four or five thousand each."

If such a lucrative financial incentive weren't enough for the many new horse breeders in St. Tammany, there's always the attraction of the tax structure. In the 1960s, the state legislature set up a variety of tax structures that made the horse business all but irresistible. "There are more shelters in it than even the real estate business," one Slidell breeder commented.

Another incentive for breeders required each racing track in the state to allow for two races a day just for the Louisiana-bred horses. In addition, money was taken from racetrack betting pools and cash awards given to the owners of state mares and stallions who produced successful Louisiana-bred racehorses.

According to the Times‑Picayune/States-Item, awards under this program amounted to almost $2 million in 1982 alone. In addition, the horse industry has gained some important friends in Baton Rouge—friends that come in handy in times of need.

In 1983, when Jefferson Parish representative Eddie D'Geralamo introduced a bill that would have done away with all state-sponsored breeder and stallion awards, a legion of breeders and horsemen got in touch with their best friends in the capital-­including the prominent Sen. B.B. "Sixty" Rayburn--and arrived en masse to a meeting of the House Ways and Means Committee to protest the action.

Rayburn, who has long represented the local breeders and is the president of the Louisiana Thoroughbred Breeders, strongly opposed the bill. But, for once, he didn't have to work out a tough compromise with his colleagues on the floor to get his point across.

When D'Geralamo rose to speak in favor of his bill he did so alone. No other senator was willing to stake out the Kenner legislator's position, and the bill died a quiet death in committee.

Such legislative support has only added to the attraction of the local horse business. Those who concern themselves primarily with breeding-­rather than training race or show horses, can realize exceedingly hand­some profits for all their efforts.

In the industry, stud operations are considered to be the luxury aspect of the business. The biggest bread-winner in this country's thoroughbred history was the well-publicized Spectacular Bid who earned an unprecedented $2.8 million.

Another sire, Conquistador Del Cielo, was purchased by a syndicate in late 1982 for $36 million. A syndicate commonly buys several shares of the horse. Each share entitles the owner to a free mating of a mare with the stallion. The mare is usually brought to the stallion's farm, bred to the stallion, and then leaves. In his lifetime, the stallion can mate 100 to 125 times during the February to July breeding season.

On a farm like Classic Farms in Covington, there may be as many as 20 different breedings in a season. With an average of about 30 horses a year, that means the horse population is one that is always increasing at Classic Farms.

"But that doesn't mean we're always doing that well," said David Hadley, the manager of Classic Farms. "While there's big money in this business, there is also the normal reaction to the general economy. Since the recession has winded down, our business has gone up some."

At Classic Farms a rare breed called the American Showhorse is the star of the show. A cross breed involving an American saddlebred and an Arabian line, the American Showhorse can bring in an average of $10,000. Some, however, go much higher. One such animal was rumored to have been sold recently,for as much as $150,000.

"As far as I know we're the only ones who have this kind of breed." said Hadley. "I think it gives us an edge on the competition."

Classic Farms, which is owned by Nancy Herpin, specilizes in showhorses only. Although the farm is spread out on 62 acres off of Blackwell Road, only 30 of those acres are presently used by the farm. "Right now we're more interested in getting the right sale. Eventually we'll be more involved in breeding and showing, but our concern now is the public auctions, where you put the right horses in and get the right kind of dollars out."

As the breeding business in St. Tammany has grown in recent years, a variety of farms have established solid reputations as reliable or specialty markets for breeding.

Among those considered to be the most popular in the region are Gambda Horse Farm and Saralin Morgan Horse Farm in Covington; Berryhill Farms, Middlebrook Farms, and Sun Creek Farms in Folsom; and Baldwin Lodge Farm and Ima Cactus Ben, Inc., in Slidell.

Perhaps the most recognized of the older farms is the Clear Creek Stud Farm spread over 365 acres south of Folsom on Bennett Bridge Road. Operated by Jack Lohman, the Clear Creek Stud Farm was begun in the late 1960s and today is considered to be probably the biggest commercial thoroughbred farm in the state.

More than 200 horses can usually be found in the farm's stables, while that number quickly rises to more than 300 during season. In 1982, Dixie magazine reported that Clear Creek's "line of 10 stallions at stud is likely the biggest in  the state..."

To get an idea of how vast the breeding business can be on a larger scale, the Magazine went on to point out that Clear Creek had $20,000 worth of horse feed a month; $1,000 in utility bills; $2,000 a month for the fuel needed to run the farm's six trucks, five tractors, and eight lawn mowers; as well as veterinary costs totalling some $20,000 a year.

Although Lohman is recognized as one of the giants in the business, his high operations costs once prompted him to remark, "You've got to love horses to be in this business. You don't make a lot of money."

Such declarations aside, Clear Creek is the Cadillac of the business and many of the medium sized breeders in the parish look at the farm as an exam­ple of what they'd like to be.

"OK, there's a lot of work to it all," admitted one woman breeder in Covington. "But Clear Creek started out small once too. Now they're the giants. Who knows? At the rate it's going around here, in five or six years there may be a couple of other Clear Creeks."

If that sentiment seems a bit optimistic, then consider that in the last five years, the number of small breeders in St. Tammany has almost doubled. Typical of these new operations is the Weichart Farms, which specializes in mare and foal care, and started up in the spring of 1983.

Located off of Turnpike Road in Folsom, Weichart Farms is owned by Dr. Rudy Weichart, a New Orleans cardiovascular surgeon. With 50 acres and two ponds, Weichart Farms has turned out to be a respected business specializing in the caring of young horses.

According to Louisiana Horse, Dr. Weichart hopes to keep his business on the smaller side, while perhaps developing young breeds on the farm. Said the doctor: "I'm not at all interested in going out and purchasing a proven race horse and taking him to the track and gambling on him. What I want to do is develop young horses on the farm. I imagine if we were to breed and/or foal a winner on the farm my interest would really peak."

Weichart's visions are typical of the up and coming horse breeder in St. Tammany. The opportunities and the possibilities seem as limitless as the land that rolls across the parish.

"Sure there's been a lot of new people coming into this business," admits Laura Landry, the manager of the Oak Wind Farm in Folsom—which itself has only been in operation since 1981. "But many of these people come here just  because they like the way it is around here and they want to do something."

Concerned mainly with commercial breeding, the Oak Wind Farm is owned and operated by Bob Landry and Phil Nettles and is considered to be one of the leading contenders for the new breeding business that has been on the rise almost constantly since 1980.

But, despite the financial opportunities and the chance to control your own business and the role you want to play in it, some of the newer breeders admit they came to St. Tammany for reasons other than the love of horses and a hope for financial success.

"I think the business is growing mainly because there are a lot of younger people with children coming here," said manager Hadley of Covington's Classic Farms. "It's a perfect way, when you think about it, to keep the kids away from the drug scene. You used to hear a lot about the 'Generation Gap' when I was in school.

"Now you don't hear as much about it. Today more families are staying involved with their kids and the horse business is a good way of doing that. With all of these newer horse farms coming up, I bet that's one of the biggest reasons why. It's just a good life.''

See also:

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

When Governor Long Almost Lost His Mind

The sanity hearing for Gov. Earl Long took place in downtown Covington in June of 1959, some 61 years ago, and the week-long event is seared in the memories of many area residents. Not only because it dealt with the Governor of the state, not only because the hearing was being held in the gym at Covington Middle School, and but also because driving through the middle of town passed by the Southern Hotel where many associated events were taking place.The town was buzzing with activity.

The number of national new media reporters in attendance gave the goings-on a circus-like atmosphere, over and above the circus-like atmosphere of Louisiana politics at its finest.

Covington area resident and court reporter Vera Haik occupied a front row seat on the sanity hearing, and in a 1993 Times Picayune article she told her story of what it was like.

"On June 22, 1959, one of the hottest days I have ever lived through in St. Tammany Parish, a trial was held in the 22nd Judicial District Court, bringing reporters from all over the United States to Covington," she wrote. "More people came to this quiet country town than I had ever seen before or since, for the 'sanity hearing' of Governor Earl Long."

Her memorable experience began the night before, when Sheriff Red Erwin called her and announced that he would like to bring the governor to her house for breakfast the next day.

As a court reporter, that was going to be a big deal for her and her family.

Running short of breakfast makings (some 15 to 20 people were expected to be accompanying the governor), she called Bob Champagne of Champagne's Grocery and he opened up his store for her, so she could stock up on what she needed. In addition, she made arrangements with her housekeeper Alma White to pick her up early in the morning so she could help prepare the breakfast.

The governor was staying at a motel in Mandeville, so, as a diversion tactic, the sheriff had the governor's car driven from the motel in the opposite direction to lure the dozens of reporters away. Then they brought the governor to Haik's house on La. 21 just north of Claiborne Hill.

Breakfast went on as scheduled, but Haik had to leave at 9:30 to go to her job as court required her services. Court was being held at Covington Middle School because a new courthouse was being built downtown.

"There had to be 3,000 people in and around the court when I arrived," she wrote. "I almost had to be carried by the deputies to get inside the courtroom."

There was no air condition in the gym, and only a few electric fans, so it was hot, "so hot I am surprised that no one fainted," she said. "It seemed people were hanging from the ceiling."

The hearing began, lasted a "very short while," and the governor never took the stand, she noted. "In fact, he never came into the courtroom."

The politics of the situation was quite involved. "Long had fired Dr. Charles Belcher, head of Southeast Hospital at Mandeville (the mental health hospital) where Long had been committed. He had been committed by his estranged wife Blanche, which is a story all by itself. "Long then hired Dr. Jess McClendon, who declared Long sane," Haik reported.

"Since Long was not technically and legally insane, in effect there could not be a sanity hearing, nor could he be confined at Mandeville against his will, according to Long biographer Michael Kurtz," Haik wrote in her Times Picayune senior citizens column.

The case was dismissed, and Long was free to go. "As I was getting all my junk into my briefcase, one of the Associated Press reporters asked if I was Mrs. Haik, and I told him I was. He was extremely angry."

"You live next door to the Green Springs Motel? he asked, and I told him I did." The reporter then said, "We have been running all over St. Tammany Parish, and he was right next door."

Vera Haik smiled, and "I think that made him even angrier."

"Just one day, long ago, that is part of Covington's past. Another thing that makes it an interesting place to live," she concluded.


Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Wagons Ho

 St. Tammany has a love of old wagons. Not only are there relics of old wagons parked in area museums, but there are plenty of old wagons still visible in the yards of rural folks across the countryside. Some of those wagons are still in use.


The American Bicentennial Celebration way back in 1976 spotlighted the horse-drawn wagon and the important part it had played in the history of the country, moving cargo, moving settlers westward, and just getting people from home to town and then back home again. 

Here are two articles from the St. Tammany News Banner in 1976 that tells a little about those wagons. 

CLICK ON THE IMAGES below to make them larger and more readable. 



Monday, July 6, 2020

Horse Show Participants Named-- 1976

 On June 23, 1976, the St. Tammany News Banner published this article about the large number of riders who took part in the multi-parish horse show put on by the Mandeville Saddle Club. Click on the image to make it larger and more readable. 

Sunday, July 5, 2020

Bernard De Marigny: The Man Who Was Mandeville

The story of Bernard de Marigny, the founder of Mandeville, has been told in numerous ways, but the following article, produced in 1977 by Lacombe writer Polly Morris, is one of the most intriguing. She tells of the man, his times, his ups and the downs, but mostly of his triumphs and sorrows.It's a great example of her individual style and flair for telling a complex story.

As published in the March 23, 1977, edition of the St. Tammany News Banner, here is "Bernard de Marigny: The Man Who Was Mandeville."

Bernard de Marigny: The Man Who Was Mandeville

By Polly Morris

The quaint Quartier de Mandeville was a dream which came true for a man of vision. Then it faded away, as dreams will.

Bernard de Marigny, creator of Mandeville, has been portrayed by historians as somewhat of a madman, laughingly tossing a thousand silver pesos into the molten metal for the bell of Fontainebleau. He also laughed as he threw coins on the gambling tables, and he Iaughed as he delicately balanced his rapier for yet another bloody duel.

Bernard de Marigny: Was he only a laughing libertine who lived a useless life with nothing better to do than squander the family fortune? Can Mandeville be proud of the founding father who gave his family title to a town on Lake Pontchartrain?

Historians, however well-intentioned, have not been kind De Marigny. Perhaps they have been too fascinated by flamboyant exaggerations of those who envied the handsome influential aristocrat of great wealth.

The man who was Mandeville, whose only monument in St. Tammany is the crumbling ruins of an old sugar mill, what manner of man was he? Perhaps he was only a lonely man behind a mask of merriment.

Poor Little Rich Boy

Bernard de Marigny enters the pages of history as a pampered and wayward heir to seven million dollars. He was so rebellious that his guardian sent him to wards in Pensacola and London, but they too failed. Perhaps he was only a broken-hearted boy of 15 who fought tears as the body of his father was carried from his retreat in Mandeville to the home of the Almonaster family.

Then to the Cathedral where he was entombed by his father and his father's father. Miserable and bereft, the boy needed compassion instead of the iron wills that sought to reshape him into a conservative mold. So he sought companionship away from his austere custodians.

Bernard was shipped home like contaminated cargo returned to its sender, and immediately he became a reproach to his reproachers. It was 1803 and the eve of the difficult double transfer of loyalties and Louisiana.

The territory was under three flags in less than 30 days, and the Spaniards, the Frenchmen, and the Creoles were hostile to the rule of a raw republic of the young United States. English-speaking Bernard harbored no prejudice for the newcomers, so he diplomatically offered his services to the Americans. At 18, he was Alderman and aide to the staff of General Wilkinson.

Family Man

A year later Bernard ended all escapades. He married the Creole-American daughter of the American counsul. He called her Pomponne, but her name was Mary Ann Jones. She presented him with two sons, and ecstatic happiness. For four years, Bernard was a truly happy man. Then Pomponne died and Bernard was desolate.

He buried her in the flower garden to keep her close to him, even in death. Friends took the two sons to their home, and he stayed alone in the great house on the Mississippi River, except for servants.

Bernard's anguish seemed to deepen as days passed, and concerned friends finally persuaded him to take a trip to Pensacola.

When he was there he met a beautiful young Spanish girl named Anna Mathilde Morales. Had he been less lonely, he would have taken time to learn of her disposition, and there would have been no rebound romance.

After a whirlwind courtship, the amiable Bernard realized his mistake. Anna Mathilde was arrogant, haughty, and given to violent temper tantrums. When she screamed and threw things, Bernard left the mansion and sought more pleasant companions.

Although there were five children born of this union, the marriage was unhappily as explosive as a Spanish musket.

Politics and Peccadillos

Bernard developed other interests, like politics, public activities... and peccadillos. In 1811 he was Alderman, Colonel, and a member of the Territorial Legislature. When Louisiana became a State, he was the youngest delegate to the first Constitutional Convention.

When the British threatened New Orleans, he had command of a post at Chalmette and was on the Legislative Committee for Defense. Later he would be several times State Representative and State Senator, in which latter position was President of that august body. These trusted positions would surely have not been given to an irresponsible man.

De Marigny ran for Governor twice, and although he was defeated, he made a good show, considering the powerful opposition.

Evan as a Lothario, Bernard can be defended, for he was not a libertine after his first marriage, and had he been happy with Anna Mathilda, he might not have ever strayed. But let it be said that he was neither a sly seducer nor was he a gay deceiver. He was handsome, rich, and gallant, a fatal combination that attracted women to him.

Not that he objected.

Moreover, he did not love them and leave them. He provided for his favorites in no miserly way, and at a time when keeping a mistress was no back street affair. Only a side street alliance that was discreetly ignored by everyone except Anna Mathilde.

Bernard never denied or defended his many amours. "When is it a crime to be a man?" he would ask with disarming guile.

Gambling was in Bernard's blood, which made him no worse than others of his time. Having an after-dinner game of chance was much like having an after-dinner drink. Instead of being a vice, gambling was a respectable way to support charitable institutions such as  hospitals and orphanages.

The North Shore

It may well be that Mandeville and Fontainebleau owe their existence to the irritable Anna Mathilda. Bernard had always loved St. Tammany for he had frequented the north shore when his father had his modest place on the lakefront.

And Bernard was desperately in need of peace and quiet. His New Orleans home was being crowded by his Faubourg Marigny, a suburb he created for the Creoles who were in need of reasonably priced property outside the Vieux Carre.

Bernard began to buy tracts of land in Tammany. At first it was only for a retreat, but it was not entirely extravagance. There was a sugar mill, brickworks, and a profitable plantation. There were also winding roads, alleys of fine trees, and gardens that made it a showplace.

He invited guests to share in his sylvan Paradise, and his hospitality almost crowded him out of the plantation home called Fontainebleau... after his friend-king's country estate in France.

Bernard then began to dream of a town where everyone could live like a kingling without great wealth. Bernard, aristocrat-millionaire, had compassion for the working man, and determined that they, too, should have a chance to pursue happiness.

So he planned a model town called Mandeville and offered its lots at reasonable prices, for he was not interested in profit. Only people.

There was only one thing about Mandeville that Bernard did not like. Hot-bloods would come across the lake to settle their differences under the mighty oaks, and he had had no taste for duels since a fateful day in October of 1830...

Bernard had a reputation as being a daring and skillful dualist who had been the victor in at least 18 duels, all quite bloody, it was rumored. The truth was that he never killed a man in a duel. An expert with the rapier, he tried only to nick his opponent. A slight show of blood was sufficient to end a duel, and Bernard was an exceptionally mild-mannered man in this respect.

Duels to the death and a false honor seemed foolish. Later Bernard was the President of an anti-dueling society.

Bernard was a sensitive and emotional man, but no doubt his laughter often came close to tears. Few historians have written about the tragic death of young Mary Ann or the death of Prosper, her son, who also died young to Bernard's dismay.

There was Bernard's son-in-law who died before a firing squad. But the greatest sorrow of all came on October 26, 1830. Friends brought home the blood-soaked second son by Mary Ann. There was an ugly gaping wound in his chest. Gustave Adolph had lost a duel, and Bernard had to helplessly watch him die. He was the son so much like Bernard himself, and he was only 23 years of age.

Fortune Frowns

What of the vast family fortune he frittered away? Of the seven million dollars that he inherited in about 1804, and the 40 plus years it took to throw it away, during which there were two wives, seven children and two major depressions?

His acknowledged extravagances were only a part of the story.

Bernard never tried to make a great profit on either his Faubourg Marigny or his town of Mandeville. The only time he tried to profit from the former ended in humiliation.

The Americans offered him a handsome price for his property in New Orleans which might have become the beautiful Garden District. Bernard accepted the offer and set up an appointment for the signing of the necessary documents. It fact, he set up three different appointments.

Each time everyone but Anna Mathilde was present. To the Americans, it was a deliberate insult, and they bitterly blamed Bernard. But Anna Mathilde was his wife and he had to silently endure the burning shame of it all.

Bernard had made wise investments in plantations, sugar mills, brickworks, and stocks. He helped start a bank and a railroad. He weathered the depression of 1820. He weathered the panic of 1837 although 14 banks closed and 136 sugar plantations went broke.

No one was buying land, sugar prices had dropped, and bricks were not worth the making. Yet Bernard borrowed and schemed and planted. Somehow he kept going until 1830.

A flood that year broke the levee, and his crops were swept away. He replanted the next year and the same thing happened. He was fighting with his back to the wall.

He had to sell Fontainebleau and Mandeville, which was no longer his dream town. People had returned lots to him because they could not pay for them.

Little by little, he sold his New Orleans property until only the mansion on the river was left. When that too was sold, he moved the furnishing to a house on Frenchman Street. Only Mary Ann was left sleeping at the old family estate mercifully unaware of misfortune.

One by one, Bernard was forced to sell the things from the old home Anna Mathilda, nearing 70 and bed-ridden, sued him for her part of what was left. They had been separated for years, and she won the suit and died shortly thereafter.

Bernard was reduced to living in two rooms of the three story house on Frenchman Street. He lived alone, except for a servant. He had outlived all his old friends, and his children seldom saw him, except for his daily walk and at a distance.

He was taking his morning walk regardless of the cold February weather when he slipped and fell, striking his head on the pavement. The next day, those who had half-forgotten Bernard de Marigny de Mandeville followed his casket in the rain.

Contrary to his wishes, he was not buried next to Mary Ann. He was 83 years old.

He often said that he had all the vices of a gentleman.He never mentioned that he had many virtues, too.

Mandeville can have pride in her founding father because his life was gentle and the elements so mixed in him that she may stand up and say to all the world, "This was a man."

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Happy Fourth of July

Happy Fourth of July! Here are some pictures and links to previous 4th of July blog articles:

4th of July Picnic At The Park

Happy Fourth of July

From 1976, the American Bicentennial, some 44 years ago