Jefferson Island
Thank you Wikipedia for this portrait of Joe Jefferson (February 20, 1829 - April 23, 1905), an American actor known for his role as Rip Van Winkle. Although he did play other parts, including just about any that required "a babe in arms" as a babe in his actress mother's arms, he played Rip Van Winkle almost exclusively during his adult years.
Jefferson Island was his summer home and he spent only 3 months per year here (why anyone would want to spend summers in the south of Louisiana, melting in the heat, is beyond me!) He had three other homes including one in Florida where he spent his last years. The gardens are not original to the house, they were designed and built after Jefferson's death by Lyle Bayless who bought the house from Jefferson shortly before his death but were named in honor of Jefferson's role as Rip Van Winkle.
Not a lot to say about the gardens, other than they are beautiful and well maintained, not much blooming except for some Azaleas. So just enjoy the beauty.....
The peacocks were quite the showoffs, both from the front view and as you can see from the back.
The home is described on the website http://www.ripvanwinklegardens.com/joseph-jefferson-mansion/ as "The home is an architectural treasure reflecting Moorish, Steamboat Gothic, French and Southern Plantation styles, harking to the Victorian age of elegance and grandeur." Like so many of our sweet puppies with a mixed lineage, the combination of styles worked beautifully. The cupola is 4 stories tall, viewed through a ceiling opening on the ground floor. Like Shadows on the Teche, this home was furnished with beautiful antiques and paintings. Joe Jefferson was an accomplished artist and hid animals in his many of his paintings. One that we saw had a peacock sitting on top of a tree that without looking close was just leaves on a branch. When you saw it, it was very obvious.
Outside the gardens themselves is "Rip's Rookery" home to migrating egrets and spoonbills. It is on the oak lined road leading to the gardens and mansion. Worth a quick stop.
Not sure who lives in these houses, but they had an architect with a good sense of style.
There is a bit of history to Jefferson Island, besides Joe Jefferson. Jefferson Island is one of five islands that are not true islands; they sit atop massive salt domes. One such dome was owned by the Diamond Crystal Salt Company and was being mined for the salt. Along came Texaco drilling for oil in 1980 beside the salt mine, because oil and salt work hand in hand for some reason. Unfortunately, due to a mathematical error the drill bit punctured the ceiling of the mine. I urge you to watch the short video about the disaster that followed, a link to the video can be found on Lake Peigneur: The Swirling Vortex of Doom a page with much better detail that I could give you. That breach of the salt mine ceiling resulted in a whirlpool that ate 12 barges, land, buildings, and anything that got caught in its grips. I just know it is scary to think something like that could so easily happen - one tiny mistake and instant disaster, and I would have thought the same as a fisherman, Leonce Viator, that was on Lake Peigneur that day "it seemed like the end of the world." The chimney of a home on Jefferson Island still stands. Just not quite where it should be standing.
The good news is that there was no loss of life resulting from that accident, even though there were 55 miners, 12 oil rig operators, and countless crew on board the barges, and poor Mr. Viator and his nephew out to catch some catfish. Unfortunately, three dogs were not so lucky.
With a bit of daylight left, we headed to St. Martinsville, considered by some as the birthplace of Cajun culture. It was also the home to Arcadians expelled from their homes in Nova Scotia by the British between 1768-1769. Pat and I both found it interesting since we had been in Nova Scotia last year where the expulsion took place. The museums were closing, no luck there, but we did see the Evangeline tree where the fictional Evangeline (maybe, just maybe based on an actual person) held the dying Gabriel in her arms - although actually it was supposed to have happened in a ward in Philadelphia. (the Louisiana version is much more romantic).
The Evangeline Oak sits on the banks of the Bayou Teche (which translates to snake in English - this Ophidiophobic just loves that) with a bust of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. A nice little boardwalk beside the museum and a short walk to the veterans' memorial and Saint Martin de Tours Church, one of the oldest Catholic churches in America, founded in 1765 by exiled Arcadian refugees.
Veterans' Memorial
The current structure was built in 1836. It was placed on the National Register of Historic Places on April 10, 1972 and is recognized as the Mother Church of the Acadians.
Construction began on the church in 1836 but for many reasons it was not completed until June 2 1844. One reason was a low water level in the Bayou Teche preventing the shipping of building materials. Originally it was a simple rectangular shape, but in 1874 it was enlarged and the nave was extended and the apse and north and south transepts were added creating the church's current cruciform shape.
The pipe organ was manufactured by the Pilcher Organ Company of Saint Louis, Missouri around 1890 for another church in Beaux Bridge. It was given to the Holy Rosary Institute in 1934 and used there until 1955. It sat idle for 20 years and was then sold to Saint Martin de Tours in 1977 for $600. It was restored and reassembled and put to use. For the music lovers out there that understand this (Gwynne and Betty) "The seven ranks of 393 pipes range in size from two inches to eight feet and produce seven families of sound."
Some of you may remember this guy from Fort Louisbourg last year.
.
Well here he is again in another form thousands of miles away.
This is my commentary from then, and it still holds true so I won't try to repeat it, just copy it.
The story of this guy is really neat to Marti's mama....the man went to the woods to die after being afflicted with the plague (he is showing you one of the sores). The little dog at his feet came every day bringing him a heel of bread to eat. Through the efforts of that little bitty dog, the man lived. Now isn't that a wonderful story? I have contacted Ft. Louisbourg to validate whether the story is a tall tale or based on fact.
I heard back from the staff at Fort Louisbourg immediately telling me they were out of the office until this morning. An email was waiting this morning with this explanation of the statue.
The statue in the chapel of the man with the dog is known as Saint Roch.
His story was taken from a book called "The Lives of Saints", Vol 3 by
Reverend Alban Butler (1711-1773). It was published in 1886 after Butler's
death. Here is what he says about Saint Roche:
"We find this eminent servant of God honoured, especially in France and
Italy, amongst the most illustrious saints in the fourteenth century, soon
after his death; nevertheless, says F. Berthier, we have no authentic
history of his life. All that we can affirm concerning his is, that he was
born of a noble family at Montpellier, and making a pilgrimage of devotion
to Rome, he devoted himself in Italy to serve the sick during a raging
pestilence. Maldura says this happened at Placentia. Falling himself sick
and unable to assist others, and shunned and abandoned by the whole world,
he made a shift to crawl rather than walk into a neighbouring forest, where
a dog used to lick his sores. He bore incredible pains with patience and
holy joy, and God was pleased to restore him to his health. He returned to
France, and in the practice of austere penance, and the most fervent piety
and charity, he wore out his last years at Montpellier where he died, as it
is commonly said, in 1327. Some postpone his death to the decline of that
century, and think he went into Italy only in 1348, when historians mention
that a pestilence made dreatful havoc in that country. Many cities have
been speedily delivered from the plague by imploring his intercession, in
particular that of Constance during the general council held there in 1414.
His body was translated from Montpellier to Venice in 1485, where it is
kept with a great honour in a beautiful church; but certain portions of his
relics are shown at Rome, Arles, and may other places. See Pinius the
Bollandist, t. 3. Augusti, p.380. F. Berthier, the last continuator of F.
Longueval's Hist. de l'Eglise de France, t. 13, ad an. 1327, and the life
of St. Roch by Maldura, translated into French by D'Andilly. Also Pagi the
younger. Bened. XIV. & c."
I heard back from the staff at Fort Louisbourg immediately telling me they were out of the office until this morning. An email was waiting this morning with this explanation of the statue.
The statue in the chapel of the man with the dog is known as Saint Roch.
His story was taken from a book called "The Lives of Saints", Vol 3 by
Reverend Alban Butler (1711-1773). It was published in 1886 after Butler's
death. Here is what he says about Saint Roche:
"We find this eminent servant of God honoured, especially in France and
Italy, amongst the most illustrious saints in the fourteenth century, soon
after his death; nevertheless, says F. Berthier, we have no authentic
history of his life. All that we can affirm concerning his is, that he was
born of a noble family at Montpellier, and making a pilgrimage of devotion
to Rome, he devoted himself in Italy to serve the sick during a raging
pestilence. Maldura says this happened at Placentia. Falling himself sick
and unable to assist others, and shunned and abandoned by the whole world,
he made a shift to crawl rather than walk into a neighbouring forest, where
a dog used to lick his sores. He bore incredible pains with patience and
holy joy, and God was pleased to restore him to his health. He returned to
France, and in the practice of austere penance, and the most fervent piety
and charity, he wore out his last years at Montpellier where he died, as it
is commonly said, in 1327. Some postpone his death to the decline of that
century, and think he went into Italy only in 1348, when historians mention
that a pestilence made dreatful havoc in that country. Many cities have
been speedily delivered from the plague by imploring his intercession, in
particular that of Constance during the general council held there in 1414.
His body was translated from Montpellier to Venice in 1485, where it is
kept with a great honour in a beautiful church; but certain portions of his
relics are shown at Rome, Arles, and may other places. See Pinius the
Bollandist, t. 3. Augusti, p.380. F. Berthier, the last continuator of F.
Longueval's Hist. de l'Eglise de France, t. 13, ad an. 1327, and the life
of St. Roch by Maldura, translated into French by D'Andilly. Also Pagi the
younger. Bened. XIV. & c."
so there you have it......
The white marble baptismal font is believed to be a gift from the King of France. The original marble lid was broken during transport when the ship carrying it wrecked. Today's wooden lid is designed to be in harmony with the church's style.
Beside the church is a small grave yard that includes a bronze statue of Evangeline, donated by the actress, Delores del Rio who played Evangeline in a movie filmed in the area in 1929.
A full day resulting in having a glass of wine and some snacky food in our rooms for dinner and lights out before God turned His off.
All to quickly it was time to head home with full bellies, more laugh lines, lots of pretty images in our minds of flowers and mansions, and still trying to decide how to best duplicate Jo's breakfasts.
Finally!!! I thought this was going to be one trip where I missed seeing a rusty ole pickup. Nope, there it sat waiting for me to take its picture as we stopped at a light.
All roads lead to home....some in Texas include passing a trail ride.
At the end of this trip I would like to take just a moment to thank 5 people that make my travels possible and make them fun. I should end every posting with these thanks.
Pat - my lifelong friend, travel buddy, and co-conspirator. Life, and traveling especially, would be empty without you in it. We have had some good times, have more planned, and I love you dearly, my friend.
Susan - who makes it possible for me to go off and not worry about the piece of my heart, Marti, I left behind. I know Marti and the house are both in good hands while I am not there. Thank you.
My three children - who encourage me to travel and spend all my money before I die doing so. Thank you for giving up your inheritances (little as they are) for me to follow my passion. I love each of you so very very much.
and I would also like to thank the people, foundations, historians, gardeners, and everyone else that give us things to see and do...you have made a beautiful, interesting and entertaining world and we never take it or you for granted.
Until next time.....listen and you might hear some whispers along the back roads, or you might hear the screech of a proud peacock.
