February 15, 2008
Staff Blog Posted by Catherine Sumner at 07:00 AM EST It’s a standard field trip for all sixth graders in Louisiana- the Chalmette Battlefield. The only war waged there now is between man and nature. At one time though, greatness happened in that bend of the river. Although Chalmette remains practically deserted post-Katrina, an oil refinery a few hundred yards away from the Beauregard House lights the evening sky. One can walk along the path and imagine troops plotting- looking out onto the river-perhaps seeing the same trees as we see now, watching the waves of the Mississippi River crash against rocks never touched by man. Preserving the history of New Orleans was never a question before. It happened mostly out of default. Historic homes and acreage are still intact because no one bothered to build on it. New Orleans was only briefly an ambitious city. The gods just smiled on New Orleans and luck befell the city for most of its beginning. One could now argue the tide has turned, and quite literally.
They say you can never go home again. For me, that’s especially true. I’m a New Orleans native, and my hometown doesn’t exist anymore. One of the few compliments tourists could truthfully give New Orleans, other than remark on our booze, is how well our history has been preserved. The Garden District of New Orleans looks much today as it did 100 years ago, minus the frou-frou shops on Magazine Street of course. We refer to buildings built after 1900 as “new construction,” at least we did until August 2005. The city of Chalmette was once the destination of a social migration in the late 1960s called “the great white flight.” For reasons no more complicated than logistics and a shortage of cash, the Battlefield remained. Locals reference St. Bernard Parish to this day as “the parish” because of its favor by the growing population who wished to escape the crime of inner city New Orleans. A military cemetery makes use of a small part of the battlefield. It makes sense to have so many dead there- like a metaphor to sum up the area along the river- once a lively area, it rests in silence now. Along with several historical markers, two monuments, and a doublewide trailer, it is the site of the first shot fired in the Battle of New Orleans. Samuel Spotts solidified his place in history on January 8, 1815. Bet he never thought he’d still be fighting to hold the same ground almost 200 years later.
The cannons on site are painted a horrid color that I can only describe as institutional blue. I’ll never understand the need to “freshen-up” artillery pieces at historic battlefields. (Chalmette is not the only offender who participates in this practice.) Furthermore, in the interest of depicting an authentic experience, wouldn’t the first thought be to blend the weapons? I’m not an expert in military strategy, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to draw attention to the source of your defense. The red wheels certainly add little to the goal of camouflage. While researching a story, as any New Orleans writer would do, my first question was, “how many remains were lost?” I knew the watermark in Chalmette was at least five feet, which meant the surge was probably ten feet. The park ranger said no remains were disturbed, but I doubt that. Nothing in Chalmette went “undisturbed.” Orange fencing, the kind used in construction sites and on Mardi Gras parade routes, fills the gaps between broken brick walls. The cemetery was officially established in 1864, but it is common knowledge that there are several “re-burials” of Union soldiers who died in the Gulf region during the Civil War. Many grave markers remain tipped over or entirely absent. 15,000 souls have been laid to rest at the Chalmette National Cemetery. Only four veterans of the War of 1812 are actually buried at Chalmette and the most recent burial is of a veteran of Vietnam.
Onto the renaissance! Although you’ll have to wait for the full-length article in the print edition of American Heritage Magazine, I can tell you there are many great things going on at the Chalmette Battlefield. The most promising vision is the same as what’s happening all around the city. The doublewide trailer currently on the site is being replaced by a solid new structure. The National Park Service Superintendent, who was beyond gracious, beamed over the plans to build a 3500 square-foot visitor center. New sod is being laid out and building materials have flattened the saturated ground. One of the most surprising facts I learned while developing this story is that not one single penny to rebuild this site has come from a private donor. The restoration of the battlefield is strictly funded by the Department of Interior. Every person I spoke to with the National Park Service was from somewhere else, and they had a great passion to preserve this property. One in particular came from New York. He said he saw what was going on and didn’t understand how the locals could just “let go of this place.” The only rational explanation I can give to that is simply, New Orleanians don’t understand preservation because it had never been a question- nothing had ever changed before. Indifference once preserved the land, and now it is indifference that will destroy it.
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