LouisianaTravel.com

When Governor Claiborne set a $500 reward for the capture of the pirate Jean Lafitte in 1813, the pirate thought it insultingly low. His response was to set a $1,000 reward for the capture of the governor. When I play Lafitte – in my rakish hat, sword and boots, causing modern folks to marvel, bow, photograph and sometimes even flirt – I feel right at home in the French Quarter. Whether I’m writing a book, giving a tour or swaggering as a famous pirate, I feel a sense of pride – inspiring, heroic, downright crazy – in the stories of Louisiana.

Sometimes, I relive New Orleans history on a ride on the newly refurbished Mid City streetcar. I board in front of the classic U.S. Customs House at the foot of Canal Street. Clattering under mossy oaks and creamy magnolias, I notice how the style of houses morphs every 20 blocks or so, reflecting the changing local tastes over two centuries. At the end of the line stands the equestrian statue of hometown hero General Beauregard, who, in a nice bit of symmetry, was the lead engineer in the construction of the Customs House, where my ride began. From here, I might go left to the New Orleans Museum of Art or right, past St. Louis Cemetery #3, famous for its above-ground burials.
 
As I explore New Orleans historical sites, I ponder a recent musing: If the Battle of New Orleans had been fought in May, when we didn’t have any other days off, I’m positive it would still be celebrated today as a national holiday. Alas, it was fought just a week after New Year’s and got a calendarial downgrade. However the Chalmette Battlefield, where the battle guaranteeing our independence took place, may be the single most important military memorial in the country.
 
Folklore & Folkways
Of course, the Louisiana story ranges far outside of the New Orleans city limits, so I head west out of the city on Highway 90, which runs like a smile through bayou country. 
 
I gotta love a people that would adopt the crawfish as their coat of arms. The town of Houma is named for its native tribe of crawfish warriors, and is a hub of the Indian nations of Louisiana. It’s the home of the Terrebonne Folklife Culture Center, a sort of one-stop Louisiana folkways retreat. To really delve into bayou life, sign up for their workshops in American crafts, duck-carving, French-speaking or quilt-making.
 
I can’t deny it, political controversy is as Louisianian as Spanish moss. Up in Thibodaux, the E.D. White Historic Site on the banks of Bayou Lafourche has both. I ponder 150-year-old American political questions while strolling through the Greek Revival plantation house’s main hallway. Was Supreme Court Chief Justice White a closet Confederate? Why did Republican President Taft cross party lines to appoint a Democrat? I find the answers and more while poring over the home’s exhibit, which also fills me in on the area’s Chitimacha Indians and Acadian settlers.
 
When I was a teenager, my grandmother gave me a copy of Evangeline, Longfellow’s classic poem about the diaspora of the Acadians from Canada to Louisiana. The Museum of the Acadian Memorial in St. Martinville recounts the actual events. My grandmother would be pleased to know that whenever I go to the memorial, I always stop at Evangeline Oak Park and at the nearby church to see the statue of heartbroken Evangeline herself. The place where Evangeline was said to meet her lover, the Longfellow-Evangeline State Historic Site, is close by, too. It doesn’t have any evidence of the star-crossed lovers, but it does have a Creole cottage and an Acadian farmstead.
 
My saunter on 90 through Cajun Country ends appropriately enough in Lafayette, where there’s a replica of a 19th-century Cajun village, le Village Acadien. I can’t think of any folks we know so much yet so little about than the Cajuns. The village is a great place to remind me of what we do know and what we have yet to learn. For example, some Cajuns will tell you the expression “Eh la bas!” means “Rock on!” and some say it means “What’s the use?” and some will say it means the equivalent to New Yorkers’ “forgetaboutit.” Le Village Acadien has even a few more translations to add to the mix.
 
Labors of Love
Any talk of Louisiana’s heritage has to include the Mississippi River. I begin in Baton Rouge, where David Floyd, the director of the Rural Life Museum, stands in a recently relocated 19th-century antebellum church, part of the museum complex. “The congregation never had a piano,” he says, “so for their hymns, they would create rhythms with their hands and feet.” Listening to his fervor, I can just imagine being a part of the services that once happened here.
 
The renovated 1840s Old Louisiana State Capitol, with its fantastic crenellations and dizzying staircases, looks like it came right out of a Harry Potter book. I know the “new” State Capitol spearheaded by then-Governor Huey Long in 1928 is more famous. But I’m amazed the old one is still standing, having withstood capture by the Union, artillery fire and abandonment during the Civil War. Visitors can tour the building daily.
 
If I were able to live the good life a couple of centuries ago, I would walk the grounds daily at Houmas House, not in Houma, but up in Burnside. I’d watch cool breezes shake pecans out of the trees above the finest kept grounds on the river before entering the exquisite house, site of the film Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte, and a precious example of sugar-trade success.
 
Ancient (and Not-So-Ancient) History
For ancient (really ancient) history, I take friends to the intriguing Poverty Point Park. Way up in the northeastern Louisiana town of Epps, this ongoing archeological dig shows the oldest evidence of human habitation on the North American continent. A ranger tells me these little-known people lived here some 12,000 years ago!
 
Nearly 150 miles to the west in Shreveport, the dignified Spring Street Historical Museum sits in the city’s oldest building, the historic 1865 Tally Bank. The museum’s collections and deft narrative bring to life the foundations of a thriving Southern city.
 
Whether it’s their famous rodeo, or in music, books, the news or film, I can think of at least a dozen cultural references to the Angola State Penitentiary. If you’re curious to see if the pop culture is accurate, Angola’s museum retells the prison’s notorious history. 
 
St. Francisville seems to whisper “welcome” to me every time I meander along its verdant streets. Among several stunning mansions is the 1806 Oakley Plantation House, where John James Audubon stayed while creating his bird paintings.
 
Lake Charles, about 150 miles away, sits as the commercial center of a five-parish area that once was called the “Imperial Calcasieu” region. The Imperial Calcasieu Museum is the repository of all things historic, cultural and just plain interesting for the region, such as a reconstruction of a vintage barbershop and an exhibit of the United States’ military action. And, if you aren’t fortunate enough to catch the springtime Contraband Days celebrating the pirate influence on Lake Charles, the museum has lots of Jean Lafitte memorabilia, including a letter from the French king to Captain Lafitte.
 
Sulphur, Louisiana, doesn’t smell like the valuable resource found there, but the Brimstone Complex lays out the revolutionary mining process in a way that even a non-scientist like me can understand.
 
My figure-eight through the state brings me home to New Orleans, neatly tying together a few places, and leaving lots of others for another adventure. The nice thing is that New Orleans offers the two best things to do when not doing anything – drinking and eating. The brand, spanking new Museum of the American Cocktail, right inside of the Southern Food and Beverage Museum in the Riverwalk, describes the history of these two pastimes. While we admire pelicans floating on the Mississippi, a visitor from a far different place says to me “You know, no matter where I am in the world, I love ending up in a place like this,” and I think he’s reading my mind.