The Mysteries of New Orleans (The Longfellow Series of American Languages and Literatures)
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THE MYSTERIES OF NEW ORLEANS
The Longfellow Series of American Languages and Literatures
Marc Shell and Werner Sollors,
Series Editors
Baron Ludwig von Reizenstein (1826–1885), his wife, Augusta née Schroder (1824–1886), and his daughter Sophie (1853–1923), in New Orleans. Date uncertain (circa mid-1860s). From SchlossReitzenstein, Bavaria, reproduced by gracious courtesy of Baron Konrad von Reitzenstein.
The Mysteries OF NEW ORLEANS
By Baron Ludwig von Reizenstein
TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY
STEVEN ROWAN
© 2002 The Johns Hopkins University Press
All rights reserved. Published 2002
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper
2 4 6 8 9 7 5 3
The Johns Hopkins University Press
2715 North Charles Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21218-4363
www.press.jhu.edu
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Von Reizenstein, Ludwig, 1826–1885
[Geheimnisse von New Orleans. English]
The mysteries of New Orleans / by Baron Ludwig von Reizenstein ; translated and edited by Steven Rowan.
p. cm. — (The Longfellow series of American languages and literatures)
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 0-8018-6882-3 (pbk : alk. paper)
1. Rowan, Steven W. II. Title. III. Series.
PT2547.V92 G4413 2002
833′.7—dc21
2001003733
A catalog record for this book is available from the British Library.
CONTENTS
Preface and Acknowledgments
INTRODUCTION
Searching for a Key to The Mysteries
Memoranda for the Sympathetic Reader
Prologue
Book • I
CHAPTER 1. Lucy Wilson
CHAPTER 2. The Masquerade
CHAPTER 3. Two Sisters
CHAPTER 4. A Night after the Honeymoon
CHAPTER 5. A Welcome Guest
CHAPTER 6. Don Juan in Hell
CHAPTER 7. Parasina Brulard-Hotchkiss
CHAPTER 8. An Intermezzo and Further Events at Madame Brulard’s
CHAPTER 9. The Southern Cross
CHAPTER 10. Mantis Religiosa
CHAPTER 11. The Negro Family
CHAPTER 12. Sulla
CHAPTER 13. The Manuscript
Book • II
CHAPTER 1. Jenny and Frida
CHAPTER 2. Far Away
CHAPTER 3. The Assault on Looking-Glass Prairie
CHAPTER 4. Gretchen in the Bush
CHAPTER 5. Unexpected
CHAPTER 6. Searching for a Bride
CHAPTER 7. Lesbian Love
CHAPTER 8. Albert
Book • III
Dedicated to the Creole Marie Lolette Bloodword
CHAPTER 1. One Year Later
CHAPTER 2. Under the Live Oaks
CHAPTER 3. The Coffee Pickers
CHAPTER 4. The Prince of Württemberg
CHAPTER 5. Aunty Celestine
CHAPTER 6. Corybantic Fits
CHAPTER 7. In the Hamburg Mill
CHAPTER 8. Clubmen of the 99th and 100th Degree
CHAPTER 9. Under the Bed
Paralipomena
Book • IV
Prologue. The Fata Morgana of the South
CHAPTER 1. Angel and Genius
CHAPTER 2. On the Flight to Nineveh
CHAPTER 3. Interludes
CHAPTER 4. A Parrot in Cupid’s Service
CHAPTER 5. A Letter from the West, or, The Voice of a Friend from Highland
CHAPTER 6. The Confession
CHAPTER 7. Complications and Revelations
CHAPTER 8. One Night in the Life of a Young Woman
Book • V
Prologue. The Criminals’ Dock on the Mesa
CHAPTER 1. Red Today, Dead Tomorrow
CHAPTER 2. The Nurse
CHAPTER 3. How It Happened
CHAPTER 4. The Reunion
CHAPTER 5. The Journey to the Place of Execution.
Epilogue
Notes
PREFACE AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THIS EDITION began as a whim and ended as an obsession. The memory of Reizenstein and his notorious book was preserved primarily by J. Hanno Deiler.1 It has long been known that Ludwig von Reizenstein wrote a book about New Orleans which offended the taste of its time and was quickly withdrawn from circulation; more could not be said. It is safe to assume that the book, Die Geheimnisse von New Orleans, remained unread for more than a century until 1990, when I managed to reconstruct almost all of it from the microform files of the Louisiana Staats-Zeitung. It was not until a trip to New Orleans in 1990 that I was able to confirm the existence of two copies of the publication, one version including almost all of the first four books (in the Louisiana Collection of the Tulane University Library) and one complete version (at the Historic New Orleans Collection). These were surprising discoveries, as there is no mention of Reizenstein’s book in the standard reference work on New Orleans publications. 2
The edition that follows is based on the book as serially published in the Louisiana Staats-Zeitung as well as the sometimes slightly different fascicles of the book publication in 1854 and 1855. The translation is a modern English rendering of nineteenth-century German prose, although obvious linguistic anachronisms have been avoided. Terms of ethnic abuse are rendered in a historically accurate manner, as is sexist and otherwise colorful language. Reizenstein’s notes, usually making an arch point, appear as footnotes, while all of my annotations can be found in the Notes at the end of the book. Words or passages given in spread type (Sperrdruck) in the original are usually rendered here in italics. In my annotations, I have tried to explain references that the author probably expected his readers to know or enhance the reader’s comprehension of the text. Many names, however, were simply included as part of the atmospherics of a dense narrative style, so I have not tried to resolve everything. It is clear that Baron Ludwig intended that some of the obscurities of his Mysteries should never be clarified. That is part of why one can glean new information with every reading.
• • •
A project that connects such fascinating towns as Munich and New Orleans has to incur interesting debts and obligations. Don Heinrich Tolz-mann, director of the German-Americana Collection of the University of Cincinnati has continued to be helpful even after the completion of our joint effort on an Emil Klauprecht novel. In New Orleans, the Historic New Orleans Collection has always been obliging, particularly the former director, Dr. Jon Kukla, and the former reference librarian Jessica Travis. The current reference librarian, Mrs. Pamela D. Arcéneaux, has been invariably quick and helpful. Joan Caldwell of the Louisiana Collection of Tulane University Library also read the translation at an early point and shared helpful notes on New Orleans localities. Ellen C. Merrill provided more than will be obvious in the notes, since I eventually passed over her translations to the original sources. During the final period of my research, it was my good fortune to come into contact with Professors Werner Sollors and Marc Shell, and I was introduced to the program of the Longfellow Institute during an idyllic return to Harvard University in the spring of 1996 and autumn of 1998. They have provided a perfect setting for the revival of Ludwig von Reizenstein. Caryn Cossé Bell of University of Massachusetts-
Lowell has helped to remind me of the often bizarre Creole dimension behind these writings. The Mercantile Library, now at my own institution, the University of Missouri–St. Louis, has helped me reenter the America of the mid-nineteenth century. Its director, John Hoover, has been ceaselessly generous and helpful. In early 2000, when I was in New Orleans as a guest of the Jean Lafitte National Historic Site, I was able to make the acquaintance of Sevilla Finley of the German-American Cultural Center, who showed me the community of Gretna, which Reizenstein surveyed when it was called Mechanicsburg.
In Germany, I was able to do research at the Stadtarchiv München, the Hauptstaatsarchiv München, the Staatsarchiv für Oberbayern, the Universitätsarchiv, the Universitätsbibliothek, and the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek. Professor Dr. Berndt Ostendorf of the Seminar für Amerikastudien of the Ludwigs-Maximilans-Universität was supportive, as was his former colleague Professor Dr. Hartmut Keil, now of Leipzig University. Dr. Hans-Joachim Hecker of the Stadtarchiv brought me into contact with current members of the baronial house of Reitzenstein, particularly Dr. Helene Freifrau von Reitzenstein. It was my pleasure and privilege to visit Konrad Freiherr von Reitzenstein at Schloss Reitzenstein in the Franconian Forest in late October 1992 to enjoy his hospitality and advice. My resurrection of Baron Ludwig appears to have the blessings of a noble house.
Financial support for early phases of this project was provided by the College of Arts and Sciences of the University of Missouri–St. Louis, as well as by the Chancellor’s Fund for Innovation in the Humanities.
The first publication of Book II, Chapter 7, “Lesbian Love,” was in the Antioch Review 53, no. 3 (summer 1995): 284–96, for which I must thank Robert Fogarty, its editor and a true friend. It has since been republished with the German text in Marc Shell and Werner Sollors, eds., The Multilingual Anthology of American Literature: A Reader of Original Texts with English Translations (New York: New York University Press, 2000), 185-209. Small excerpts dealing with St. Louis were also published in “‘Smoking Myriads of Houses’: German-American Novelists View 1850s St. Louis,” Gateway Heritage 20, no. 4 (spring 2000): 30–41.
My wife, Marilyn, has been most patient while I pursued this project, which often threatened never to be realized.
INTRODUCTION
Searching for a Key to The Mysteries
Who Was Baron Ludwig von Reizenstein?
The only available sketch of the life of Ludwig von Reizenstein consists of tantalizing fragments and suggestive scraps, some of which resonate with his surviving work. J. Hanno Deiler provides a rough outline that has to be corrected in many of its details.1 Ludwig von Reizenstein was born in Marktsteft am Main on 14 July 1826, the eldest son of Baron Alexander von Reitzenstein-Hartungs (1797–1890) and his first wife, Baroness Philippine von Branca (1800–1864).2 The Barons von Reitzenstein were Franconian Imperial nobility of ancient lineage, counting high ministers (most notably Sigmund Freiherr von Reitzenstein, chief minister of the Grand Duchy of Baden in the Napoleonic era) and twenty-four generals in their number.3 At least three members of the house served during the American Revolution as officers of German auxiliaries in British service.4 As Baron Alexander explained in his memoirs, which have recently been published, Lud-wig’s birth excited hopes destined for disappointment:
Another delivery by my wife that took place on 14 July 1826 increased my household by a son, who received from his godfather at his baptism the name of “Ludwig,” after the reigning king. The intention of the namer in bestowing this on his grandson was to place before him an example of a continuously striving spirit. Indeed I attached the most splendid hopes for the future of my house to this event … In my mind I conceived of my firstborn son as the refounder of the dignity and splendor of my house, risen to high honors and married to a wealthy heiress, recovering one of our ancestral estates.5
Baron Alexander’s line had lost all its estates by the end of the eighteenth century, and the Baron had to rely on his income as a bureaucrat.6 Baron Alexander had worked his way through the ranks of the Bavarian army in the last phases of the Napoleonic wars, losing an eye in a training accident and being awarded a Prussian decoration for bravery in battle at Bar-le-Duc.7 Although a Protestant, he married the Catholic Baroness Philippine von Branca in a love-match in Straubing in 1821 (confirmed legally only in 1823), and he entered the Bavarian customs service in Franconia. He served in various towns along the northern and eastern frontier of Bavaria until 1837, when he was called to Munich. He received a patent as a royal chamberlain as early as 1824, but this was a ceremonial court rank shared with hundreds of others—the printed roster of chamberlains for 1846 runs to eighteen closely set pages.8 Baron Alexander’s chief claim to fame was his energetic work in organizing the border patrol (Grenz-Wache), which won him a position on the supreme council for customs (Ober-Zoll-Rath) in the Finance Ministry. Decorated with the Order of the White Falcon by the (Protestant) Grand Duchy of Saxony-Weimar for his negotiations over the Zollverein, Baron Alexander did not receive any significant decoration from the Bavarian state until 1852.9 He retired for health reasons in 1863. In all, Baron Alexander had a successful but hardly brilliant administrative career for someone who was a Protestant noble in Bavarian service.10
Baron Alexander’s brood of children—all baptized Catholic—amounted to two sons and at least ten daughters born between 1822 and 1840. The long inspection trips demanded by his position began taking a toll on his wife after 1841, when she started to show signs of depression and alienation. She also fell under the influence of the wife of a “Colonel von J.” in Munich: “a lady who obviously did not have a spotless past. This woman exercised the worst influence on my wife, who possessed an imagination easily excited, as well as hot blood. Soon I was aware of a surprising change in her entire nature, since she always acted as she felt and was incapable of dissimulation, due to her lack of self-control.”11
This sudden change of attitude led to a confrontation and a confession by Baroness Philippine of her “guilt,” the exact nature of which is never made clear in the memoirs. She might have been accused of lesbianism. A petition to the king written by the chief customs administrator on Baron Alexander’s behalf provides more detail: Baron Alexander returned from one of his border tours to find “his wife sunk in the deepest immorality, his eleven children delivered over to seduction by their own mother, and his house robbed of almost all its valuable objects by the same hand.” Baron Alexander himself described his wife’s “intense and sensitive temperament” as leading her to “steps which … not only suspended the marital fidelity she had preserved through nineteen years, but also injured my honor.”12
With royal aid, Baron Alexander managed to repair his finances, and in response to pressure from his wife’s relatives and others he reunited with his wife. Yet two years after the original crisis, in 1843, he returned home from another tour to find his wife once more “fallen into bad company and gradually drawn down into the most extreme moral decadence. After she had squandered all objects of any value, not excepting even the best, she ran away, leaving eight children in the house, plundered and helpless.” Baron Alexander estimated the cost of restoring basic household furniture and such supplies as linen at no less than 1800 guilders. A divorce was soon obtained, and the woman’s father shared with Baron Alexander the expense of supporting Baroness Philippine, who quickly deteriorated from mere irresponsibility to true insanity.13 She was placed in a convent, but after the nuns refused to take further responsibility, she was put under the personal supervision of an elderly priest. She died in these circumstances in Untergriesbach on 6 February 1864.14
In the autobiographical sketch at the beginning of Book III of The Mysteries, Ludwig von Reizenstein makes much of his putative Italian heritage, claiming to have spent much of his childhood in Italy. His father’s memoirs show that the Italian idyll is a fabrication, but a fabrication with significance. The claim of Italian birth and culture not only brought Ludwig von Reizenstein into line with the Ita
lianate style of the Bavaria of Ludwig I, but it also constituted a silent vote for the ancestry of his mother over that of his father. The Barons von Branca were an old noble house originating at Cannobio, near Milan, and had been granted a patent as German nobility in 1775 for services to the elector of Bavaria. Hence, although the von Branca house originated in Italy, it had been thoroughly Germanized by the nineteenth century, and had Protestant as well as Catholic branches. Baroness Philippine herself had been born in Wetzlar, Prussia, and she had met Baron Alexander in Straubing, where her father was a government official.15 There is no evidence that she ever saw Italy, let alone brought her son there.
After the trauma of divorce and the institutionalization of their mother, the older children were placed under personal pedagogues (Hofmeister). Ludwig, as the eldest son, was assigned to a theologian; his sole brother Ernst (born in 1827) was already in military school. Two daughters took their turns as stipendiaries of the prestigious St. Anna Foundation in the Munich Altstadt, thanks to grants by King Ludwig I, which provided a much-needed boost to strained family finances. As early as 1843, Ludwig began giving signs of being a problematic child: the year 1843 was a period of care and distress, Baron Alexander wrote, “because my son Ludwig had been expelled from the Holland Institute, and I was only able to get him into the Educational Institute at Neuburg on the Danube with much effort and the most pressing intervention of Abel, the [Prime] Minister.”16