The Petticoat Rebellion

by Jon Laiche

  The Company of the Indies were SUPPOSED to provide the Capuchin friars with “necessary clothing according their Rule, and for their sustenance, namely, for each religious, one cask of Bordeaux wine, two quarts of flour, one half quart of bacon, ditto beef, ditto brandy, twenty-five pounds of large beans, or like quantity of peas or kidney beans, eight pounds of Holland or Gruyere cheese, twenty-four pounds of candles, one half pound of pepper, twenty pots of vinegar, twenty-five pounds of salt and twelve pounds of olive oil.” Needless to say, these supplies never materialized. (p. 26)

  The original Capuchin mission was led by one Father Bruno of Langres. Prior to the supply decree quoted above, Father Bruno had inquired of his superiors and requested, “some little necessaries” for the mission in Louisiana, “such as kitchen cranes, bedsteads, paper, tables, chairs,” etc. (p. 29) Father Bruno served as pastor until the spring of 1723 when Father Raphael of Luxembourg arrived to take over. More than likely, by this time Fr. Bruno had become ill. We hear no more of him in the records. he probably died in New Orleans or returned to France.

  By autumn of 1723,the Capuchins were living in three rooms, a kitchen/chapel, a small dormitory, and a storeroom. with only about 30 regular churchgoers, offerings at Mass were scant. “ . . the friars had not the wherewithal to buy a few eggs.”

  Several more quotes from Father Raphael graphically illustrate the culinary conditions of early New Orleans:

  “They were occasionally able to acquire, “a few bottles of wine and quantity of flour . . . ‘out of special consideration’ of their office.”

  Fr. Raphael reminds the powers in Paris, that “you promised us two cows and a bull. (if) these cattle can be delivered to us, we shall be deeply obliged to you, for a little milk with our bit of pork and rice . . . will render our life less hard.” (p.31)

  He speaks of the availability of rice or Indian corn bread, and that the inhabitants of New Orleans are only too glad to “mix half French flour or half rice or Indian corn meal, which makes a very good bread.” Fr. Raphael’s efforts finally yielded results, for by 1725, each friar was provided with an annual salary of 600 Livres (over $100 thousand in 2012 dollars / buying power !!!!????) (p. 32) Even taking these dollar figures with a full shaker of salt, the Parish at New Orleans was well established by 1730.

  During those years, “the Capuchins toiled on, their brown habit becoming a familiar sight that brought the colonists recollections of their mother country. In 1728, the new church was completed. It was a frame building and was dedicated to St. Louis. … Thus, after years of patient waiting amidst hardship and trial, the Capuchins (were in ) possession of a church destined to become the center of colonial life in Louisiana.” (p. 40-41)

  “Between 1722 and 1724, nine Capuchins had gone to Louisiana, seven priests and two lay brothers, and …two more Fathers were ready to sail.” Normally, there were three or four priests in New Orleans serving the parish and the hospital. Population figures are given at 600 families in 1750 and 4000 people by 1765. (p.42)

  Vogel O.M. Cap., Ph.D., Claude L. The Capuchins in French Louisiana (1722-1766). Franciscan Studies No. 8, August, 1928. New York: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc. 1928.

  Father Vogel thus provides a historical context for our mythical Frere Gerard and the work of his (historically real) fellow Capuchin priests and brothers. Frere Gerard is to be found among the friars, artisans, and laborers (slave and free) who were commissioned to build what we see today on the lakeside of Jackson Square as the Cathedral and the Presbytere. Within our timeframe (1720-1770), these building sites were, of course, occupied by a wood frame church and rectory, not the grand edifices we see today. Frere Gerard’s kitchen and potager were in the rear of the rectory between Orleans Ave. and St. Ann.

  * Much of the economy and the trade among the Gulf Coast and the Caribbean islands was based on “smuggling”, that is, the illegal exchange of trade goods (including foods and beverages) between the local representatives of the Spanish, French, and British colonial Empires. Without such economic activity, life and survival in some of these colonies (especially Louisiana) would have been near impossible. See chapter 18 for a fuller explanation of this phenomenon.

  One

  FRENCH AND INDIAN BREAD

  We arrived at the beginning of September, 1722. Father Bruno led his two confreres and the small group of servant brothers (including me) onto the Island, we then boarded a small boat to take us to Fort Louis at the town of Mobile. From here we began our preparations to leave for the new capital at New Orleans. Among the thousand tasks associated with the trip, it was fascinating to watch the atmospheric actions of our new surroundings, as the wind and clouds blew the water about in the Bay. What we didn’t know was that a few hundred miles to the south, the wind was really blowing the seas to a froth and the storm was moving our way.

  After about a week had passed and the time was nearing to leave the coast and head to the capital, the wind and rain began to pound the coast. September 11 dawned red and black to the south and the wind and rain were fierce. I came understand later that we were on the eastern end of a violent hurricane that swept through Biloxi, virtually destroyed all the buildings in the capital, and blew as far up as Fort Rosalie at the Natchez settlement before diminishing. What a welcome to the New World !!!

  But the Lord Almighty never sends us a misfortune without some meaning. By wiping out the feeble huts and barracks at New Orleans, our Lord God gave us a clean slate upon which to build his city on the river. Naturally, our first task upon getting to the town, was to provide ourselves some shelter. My part in the overall task was to set up our kitchen and later, start our potager. I set about my labor with a full heart and a sense of excitement in finally building our future in the New World. As part of the job, I also had to feed my Brothers and the few workers we could round up to help us build. The combination of being newly arrived, the emotions surging through the loss of the town and its rebuilding, and the general lack of food supplies set me quite a task.

  To sustain the work effort until a supply chain could be established, I decided to heed the holy Psalmist, “Here is bread, which strengthens man’s heart, and therefore is called the staff of life.”(Ps.104), and set up the bakery first. Isaiah in Ch. 30 also, “Brown bread and the Word of the Lord are good fare.” From the Indians, I acquired some ground corn flour, and from the Germans up the river, we could acquire some rice. With a little conversation among the earlier settlers, and some guidance from our Native neighbors, I was able to supply our community with a steady supply of bread.

  Authentic 18th Century French and Indian Bread

  While corn meal is a common ingredient in today's kitchens, it was a very strange ingredient for Frére Gerard in 1720-something. The recipe that follows was discovered in a journal written by one of the first French explorers of Louisiana, and has been updated for the “Petticoat Rebellion”. That original “recipe” is described by Dr. Shannon Dawdy as follows:

  “Dumont wrote a detailed recipe for an “excellent” colonial bread created with a combination of African labor and Indian and European technology.” Dried corn kernels are soaked overnight, after which the “Negres ou Negresses” pound them into flour using a pestle and sift the flour in basket sieves made by local Indian women, which are works of “perfection.” The resulting coarse flour is then mixed with cooked rice and the sticky dough placed in a French casserole dish to air-leaven and bake in a hot oven. He also describes a more familiar version of southern cornbread, a half- and- half mixture of corn and “French flour,” made when wheat was available.”

  Zecher, Dawdy, et. al. Dumont de Montigny, 414-15.

  An adaptation for modern (21st Century) kitchens:

  This experiment began on a rainy June day. Bread baking in the rain is a slightly different procedure‡ (see footnote). To begin, boil 2 cups of rice in about 3 or 4 cups of water until mushy- about 20 to 30 minutes. Dissolve 1 tbsp of yeast into 1 c. of buttermilk. In a casserole* dish, blend the buttermilk/yea
st into 2 c. of cornmeal along with 2 eggs and 2 teaspoons of cooking oil or melted lard or butter or bear fat. Mush the rice into a paste and mix with the corn batter. Add salt ( and/or any other flavorings you wish). Set to rise.

  After about 2 hours, the experimental pan of bread had only risen about ½ inch. Nevertheless, it was placed into a “hot” oven†, and baked for 30-35 minutes. Test with a toothpick, as you would test cakes or brownies, when the toothpick comes out clean, the bread is done.

  Tasting Notes:

  The bread came out very light and fluffy, almost like an angel food cake. It had a pronounced corn flavor. Overall it was very good. This experiment used hardly any flavoring agents. I didn't put salt in it for fear of inhibiting the yeast. After the fact, i.e. served with dinner, it's basic neutrality, allowed for the addition of various toppings, such as:

  Salt: very good.: Brown sugar: excellent: steak gravy: very good: Lemon Sweet & Sour sauce: different

  ± Really, any liquid can be used. The standards are water, milk, broth, beer (might be interesting), etc.

  ‡ On a rainy, humid day, you must reduce the liquid added to the batter/dough as the bread absorbs moisture from the air in the rising stage. How much to reduce by? Only the day, the weather, and experience knows.

  *For this trial I used a 9x13 glass casserole pan (3.7 qts). An earthenware casserole size vessel would be more authentic.

  † A “hot” oven is normally 450° to 500°F. My oven is “hot” for baking bread at 425°F.

  Two

  FRERE GERARD DISCOVERS SAGAMITE

  As I set about building our first kitchen, and trying to stock it with some foodstuffs so that I would be able to cook meals for my brothers as well as the workers who are building the town, I encountered an immediate and most serious problem. Put in simple terms, there was little, if any, food to be had in the area. Although the “town” had been here for some three years, most of it had blown away in the hurricane that had greeted our arrival. The food stores of the Company were woefully inadequate. Hardly anything had been planted so far, and what had was barely enough to feed the owners of the gardens. The closest farms were two leagues away at the Bayou settlement, or many leagues away in the Biloxi and Mobile settlements where they had been established for some 20 years already. So I asked Pere Bruno if I could wander around the town and the immediate neighborhood to see if I could scrounge up anything with which to stock my kitchen. The next morning I set out early and went up the road to the Bayou settlement to see what I could find. I managed to get a few eggs, a small collection of herbs, and a couple of sacks of the meal they grind from the local grain. On the way back home, I fell in with some Indians from the local Tchoupitoulas settlement where the Bayou meets the river, and was

  able to get some information about what could be had by trading with them. Back in the town, I was able to gather some fruits that were coming into harvest, oranges and plums and berries. Wandering around the streets, making my way back home, I was able to secure from the itinerate Indian traders some salt and a basket of nuts. Once home, I set out my meager treasures upon a table. I began to scratch my head wondering what I could do with these ingredients.

  The biggest mystery were the sacks of grain. As far as I know, and I knew very little back then, no one in the colony had managed to produce a harvest of wheat or rye or barley in this New World– at least not along the lower Mississippi. However, most of the people I had talked to, while gathering these ingredients, were familiar with this grain, which they call maize. I had heard talk of it growing up in the forests of northern France, but had never really seen or used it. As far as I knew, it was mostly a grain grown around the Mediterranean countries and used mainly for decoration or to feed farm animals. Here in America, I was given to understand that it was a common dish among the Natives as well as the colonists who had been here for sometime. For new arrivals, like my community, arriving from France it was quite a new experience. Most of our French compatriots here in Louisiana had originally come from New France, where they had grown up eating this common American grain. I decided then to take another walk down to a small settlement of Natives who had built their huts at the edge of town next to the river. After the inevitable smalltalk, I sat down with the women and asked them how to go about preparing this new grain in an appetizing fashion.

  What I learned was fascinating and for my primitive kitchen very economical. Every time I reflect upon what the Native ladies taught me that day, I have to smile. The preparation we discussed that day was called in the Indian tongue - Sagamité - it was prepared with either corn grits, flour or meal according to whatever was available. It was simply a variation on what we call porridge in the Old Country. Buoyed by this simple solution to my immediate problem,

  I headed back to prepare the following recipe, which was to become the first of many thousands of variations of this filling and satisfying meal for my brothers. It became a staple in my presbytere kitchen. My first version was a simple herb and cheese mix.

  1718 Sagamite

  Prepare a pot of corn meal or grits as usual. Pour into a pie dish or baking pan.

  Add: (any or all of the available below)

  4 green onions, snipped into tiny bits

  2 spoons of chopped chives

  3 toes garlic, smashed, peeled, and chopped

  a spoon of butter

  a touch of Cayenne pepper, or to taste

  salt to taste

  some Shredded Gruyere or other semi-hard cheese

  a small spoon or two of Sesame seeds

  Thoroughly mix the herbs, seasonings, and cheese into the corn meal or grits and bake for at least 20 min. in a warm oven. Keep an eye on the dish during the last five minutes as the grits may begin to “souffle” and overflow the pan.

  Once you have mastered this simple recipe, you have mastered Sagamité.

  Your imagination is now free to roam the markets and fill in this culinary blank canvas with whatever takes your fancy.

  A HISTORICAL ADDENDUM

  Indian Corn (Maize) ground into flour, meal, or grits was the staple foodstuff that French explorers and settlers encountered as they spread their colonial influence among the Iroquois and Huron nations of what would become New France or French Canada in the 17th and 18th centuries. One great advantage of flour or meal (be it corn, wheat, rye, oats, etc) is its unending variability. Over the millennia, the human race has added just about everything under the sun to the basic mix of flour, water, fat, salt, (and sometimes yeast or soda). The Natives of the northeastern American woodlands and, as it turns out, the Gulf Coast and its piney woods hinterland, used their ground corn – or sagamité – no differently. The LeMoyne brothers, who were raised as French Canadian landed gentry, were no strangers to Sagamité. As they explored the Gulf Coast and the Mississippi's gulf delta, Sagamité was often an ice breaker and a medium of gift exchange in their first contacts with Louisiana Natives. As a testament to its versatility and ubiquity, Iberville himself writes in his journals (1699-1704) of Sagamité prepared with the Native plums and of the same dish prepared with with wild game meat and bear fat. It easily covers the entire sweet-savory spectrum.

  You will, no doubt, encounter many recipes that call for boiled corn flour. Research has shown that the extent or size of the “grind” was solely an accident of the milling or grinding equipment and the upper body strength of the miller. However we recommend a coarse corn meal – or grits – to give the recipe the right texture.

  We must admit a bit of sardonic irony in choosing the cheese and herb presentation. A gleeful chuckle cannot be avoided when local (New Orleans) casual dining establishments add their “new speciality” of roasted grits to their upscale menus, as this meal has been around for 300 years.

  Prof. Richard Campanella* of Tulane offers a linguistic and geographical study of sagamité which we offer here for your consideration. He states on p. 472, “There are, after all, only so many ways to render corn edible,…”. Frére Gerard’s preparatio
n of sagamité can easily be placed aside the descriptions contained in his paper. While sagamité is easily prepared with large corn kernels, there is reason to maintain that this is not the only way to go. Many of the original sources, both in our research and Prof. Campanella’s also describe the dish made with ground corn. Corn meal and sometimes even wheat flour were used in preparation of the porridge. It is not unreasonable to include grits among these options. Like gruel or broth or soup or jambalaya, this almost universal (among Eastern Woodland Indians) one-pot meal can really use any type of grain at all.

  Prof. Campanello's descriptions of this ubiquitous corn preparation need to be included here to complete the coverage of this versatile and convenient recipe.

  “Linguists trace sagamité to the Algonquin Indian word kijagamite, which the philologist Father Jean André Cuoq translated to mean l’eau est chaud-the water is hot-in his canonical 1886 Lexique de la Langue Algonquine. Cuoq noted that "It is from this misheard word that the word ‘sagamité’ comes from, which can be compared to the ‘little hot water’ of the English…" Algonquins apparently applied the term to hot broths regardless of ingredients, and broadly to the manner of cooking in which ingredients were immersed in boiling water-a method that usually rendered a one-pot soup or gruel." (Campanella, 2013, p. 466 )

  "Grace King interpreted “sagamity” as “hominy cooked with grease and pieces of meat or fish” and speculated that it represented the original of the Creole jambalaya, in which rice has since been most toothsomely substituted for corn.” (Ibid., p. 471)