Napoleon, Jackson, Etc.

January 1, 2015

After my hangover wore off, the day got better. The weather was chilly and damp, but we didn’t get rained on.

We joined a walking tour. Usually you sign up for a walking tour for $20 or so a person. This one you get to decide at the end what you’re going to pay.

The guide, Nathalie Richard, is a transplant from Australia and very enthusiastic. She had to shout most of the time over the noise of traffic, bands, and random drunks protesting the excellence of their college football teams.

We started in Jackson Square, where we learned that the buildings surrounding it were a sort of family affair. 

During the Spanish period, roughly the last half of the 18th century, a rich guy named Andres Almonester y Rojas paid to rebuild St. Louis Cathedral, which had been leveled by a fire in 1788. It was rebuilt in 1794. Much of that building has been replaced by subsequent renovations, so little more than the foundation of the original is still there.

Andres started to build a house next to the cathedral as a residence for priests. That’s why it’s still called the Presbytere, although no presbyters ever lived there. He died before it was finished, and so it languished. When it was finally completed decades later, it was a commercial building and later a courthouse.

When Andres died, his daughter, Micaela, got the family fortune. Some cousins in France wanted the fortune too, so they arranged for Micaela to marry one of them. The father-in-law, the Duke of Pontalba, became frustrated when Micaela refused to sign her money over to his family, so he shot her four times at point-blank range and then shot himself.

He died. She lived. She became the Duchess of Pontalba, but separated from the cousins and took care of herself.

Eventually Micaela built the row houses that flank both sides of the square. 

So everything around Jackson Square, except the former town hall known as the Cabildo, was put up by an Almonester.

New Orleans is one of the few places in the South where something called Jackson isn’t likely to be named for Stonewall.

The Jackson of Jackson Square is Andrew, who was general over one of the few American victories of the War of 1812. According to a cenotaph in St. Paul’s, the British lost two generals here. The battle was fought after a treaty of peace ended the war, but this was in the days before telegraph and wireless, so nobody down here knew.

There is a statue of Andrew Jackson in the middle of the square. He perches on a horse reared onto its hind legs, sort of like the Lone Ranger. He’s waving his general hat and looking very triumphant indeed.

It sort of puts me in mind of David’s painting of Napoleon on the rearing horse. There’s a reproduction of that one on Bourbon Street in front of the Napoleon’s Itch bar. 

The tour lasted two hours, and much of it covered ground we had already seen. But we picked up a couple of useful tips.

Not far from the square is the home of an old-time mayor named Girod. He offered his house as a refuge for Napoleon, if someone could get him off St. Helena. There is a legend, Nathalie said, that the Lafitte brothers were trying to cook up a scheme to spring him.

Anyhow, the bar on the first floor of the building is called Napoleon House. Nathalie recommended it for Pimm’s cup and muffaletta.

So when the tour was over, that’s where we went and what we had for lunch. It’s a very cool place, with paint faded off the walls and lots of Napoleon stuff inside, including a print of that David of Napoleon on his horse. Also a poster for a screening of Abel Gance’s “Napoleon,” a 1927 silent film. This was a special showing in 1981 accompanied by a symphony orchestra. 

I knew that there had been a revival of the film with new music. But didn’t know that the music was composed and conducted by Carmine Coppola, Francis Ford Coppola’s father, who wrote the music for “The Godfather” movies.

Pimm’s Cup mixes Pimm’s No. 1 with 7-Up and lemonade, maybe something else. Given my newly discovered taste for mixed drinks, I found it more than all right. Joanna liked it too, so we shared two before we left.

The muffaletta at Napoleon House consists of a round loaf filled with ham, Genoa salami, pastrami, Swiss, and provolone. We split half a muffaletta with a side of red beans and rice. 

The sandwich is heated till the cheese melts and is topped with an Italian olive salad. It was supposedly invented not far away, in a place called Central Grocery on Decatur Street, as a specialty for Italian delivery truck drivers.

We roamed back to the Crowne Plaza and took it easy for a while. Truth be told, I think we’re wearing down.

Joanna found a music program on the local Public Broadcasting Service station. It began with ballet, and Joanna loves dance. Then the program proceeded to a concert hall in Vienna. One of the numbers include “On the Beautiful Blue Danube” by Strauss, complete with quaint scenery shots. I’m sorry, but the only thing more boring than static scenery on film is Johann Strauss. 

Julie Andrews did the bumpers for the show. I only liked Andrews when she did the double drag part in the remake of “Victor und Victoria.” I hated “Sound of Music.”

After playing on the computer for a while, I was getting a mite peckish. We went downstairs to the seafood restaurant, where Joanna had a salad and I had raw oysters with caviar. They were very good that way. The white caviar was better than the black.

I had them with a couple of IPAs. When I ordered the first ale, the bartender asked what Joanna would have. She didn’t want anything, not even water. The salad would be enough.

I explained: The lady doesn’t drink; she just hangs around with me because I’m a bad influence.

We shared a cheesecake with all kinds of citrus added: a citrus glaze, some orange slices and Meyer lemon cookies, and some sweetened shavings of lemon peel. It was delicious, especially with the IPA. Turns out, IPA is a great dessert beer almost every time.

Joanna was amazed. “I don’t eat dessert,” she says. “I don’t drink beer.”

But she loves dessert and India pale ale together.

They were closing the restaurant bar when we left around 10, but the bar on the other side, by the hotel lobby, is open 24 hours. I was thinking about one more Campari or something there, but Joanna said she was full, and I realized I was too.

So that was it for the night.

Good night.

Harry

January 3

Wow....your e-mail reminded me of the restoration of Gance's Napoleon in the 1980s. My pal JC and I saw it at Carnegie Hall with Carmine Coppola conducting an orchestra (I forget which one) performing his score. It was really great, especially with the live performance. 

Larry