French Quarter Journal

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Gallier House’s Creole Death and Mourning Tour


It’s a somber scene at 1132 Royal Street, as anyone passing by can glean from the black fabric-wrapped wreath adorning the front door. 

October 2024

Travel back in time and revisit 19th-century New Orleans funereal culture and customs during Gallier House’s most popular seasonal event.

– by Doug Brantley

photos by Ellis Anderson
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It’s a somber scene at 1132 Royal Street, as anyone passing by can glean from the black fabric-wrapped wreath adorning the front door. 

Step inside and you’ll find the shutters closed, curtains drawn, clocks stopped, piano lid shut, gilded mirrors cloaked in black crepe, white lilies on the Egyptian marble mantle.  And a casket in the front parlor, just as there would have been in May 1868, when the last rites were held for the home’s original owner.



The former French Quarter residence of architect James Gallier, Jr. draws history and building buffs year-round for a peek at the circa-1860 property’s period-perfect interiors and innovative features.  Take the double-skylight ventilation system in its second-story study, for example.  But it’s particularly popular in October during the annual Creole Death and Mourning Tour.

“It’s our most popular tour,” says Tessa Jagger, executive director of both Gallier House and its sister property Hermann-Grima House, noting Gallier’s other seasonal offerings, Creole Christmas and Summer Dress.  “Halloween, and October in general, is always an attractive time for this kind of content.” 


Docent Leah Levkowicz explains some of the mourning traditions in the front parlor of Gallier House



Mirrors in the house (background) would have all been draped with black fabric during the mourning period.



The long-running event, which also includes after-dark excursions on Saturdays as well as Halloween night, originally took place at Hermann-Grima before moving to Gallier House in 2021.

“With Gallier House’s connection to things like Anne Rice, American Horror Story and Interview with the Vampire, it just felt like a better fit,” Jagger explains.  “Plus, it’s two houses down from the LaLaurie Mansion.

“So, we already had a tremendous amount of people in that area looking for things that are on the macabre side.  But we wanted to offer something that was a little more respectful and history based.”

The Creole Death and Mourning Tour is a far cry from the neighborhood’s standard ghost and vampire fare.  Gallier guides aren’t out to shock or scare guests with implausible tales from the dark side but to illuminate and inform with facts and funereal lore culled from New Orleans history.

Gallier Jr. wasn’t the only person to perish on this property.  His wife Aglaé’s mother also died in the house a year prior—as did her sister, Celeste, shortly thereafter.  A somber scene, indeed.


Aglaé’s mother may have spent her illness in this small upstairs bedroom, which may have doubled as a sick-room.


Even everyday items like stationary and handkerchiefs had the requisite black borders during the mourning period.


“That means Aglaé is already in mourning,” says docent Leah Levkowicz, nodding to 19th-century societal customs.  “But the mourning will be amplified now that she’s a widow and in mourning for her husband.”

Widows were required to be in deep mourning for a full year, before transitioning into a second phase that lasted up to an additional 12 months.  Men would observe a much shorter mourning period of just six months. 

Both would wear black, as did any other adults in the household, including servants or enslaved individuals, while children were outfitted in all white, or black.  Funeral guests would be expected to arrive in other muted mourning colors, such as lavender, mauve, or gray.


The Galliers’ bedroom


Even day-bed covers were reminders of the loss. 


But widows of Aglaé’s affluence and stature wouldn’t wear just any old black gown she had on hand; they would employ dressmakers to create an entirely new wardrobe, in fitting with the fashion of the day. 

They would don special jewelry, always dark and sometimes incorporating human hair (though not necessarily that of the deceased), and a black veil that would shorten as the mourning period grew longer. 

There would be related accessories – fans, purses, black-bordered handkerchiefs – even children’s dolls were dressed somber for the occasion. 


Mourning jewelry made from human hair, although not usually hair of the deceased. 


This newspaper ad from one Canal Street business touted “DOLLS DRESSED to represent WIDOWS.”

A doll dressed in widows weeds


“When we talk about the idea of death and mourning during this time period, it’s pervasive,” adds Levkowicz.  “It permeates every part of everyday life.”

So much so that a booming subculture industry was in place to meet the need, with French Quarter shops flourishing with funeral paraphernalia, offering everything from coffins and beaded immortelle wreaths to white armbands and subdued stationery.

“There were all these visual indicators,” Levkowicz points out.  “Nothing gilded, nothing golden, nothing brass.  You want to remove the idea of vanity from your day-to-day life, because it should be about respectful reflection at this moment for the family member you’ve lost. 

“The idea is that you should not be vain, but for the widow, so much of the mourning is about outward symbols. It’s ironic.” 


Upstairs, docent Leah Levkowicz explains the innovative double skylight ventilation system that opened to pull hot air out of the house.


Though based on death, it’s a lively tour, fast-paced and packed with interesting info and educational asides, touching on everything from yellow fever and lead pipes to enslavement and the home’s unique architectural elements and amenities.  

In addition to hot and cold running water, the influential architect’s home featured one of the city’s earliest indoor bathrooms—on the second floor, no less—with an oversized copper tub encased in walnut and a flushing toilet fitted with a decorative porcelain bowl.

“Gallier Jr. built this house while also building the French Opera House, which also included indoor plumbing,” Levkowicz notes.  “So, he is very familiar with this technology.  This modern feature would add luxury for his family but also impress visitors…who might be inspired to hire him as their next architect.”


Extravagant gas lighting and hand-painted French wallpaper would have been typical of fashionable furnishings in the late 1800s. 


A portrait of James Gallier, Sr., hangs now in the dining room.  Gallier, Sr. perished in a shipwreck. 


The “modern” 1800s kitchen, with a cast iron stove and a copper hot water heater (background, right).

Like his son, James Gallier Sr. was also a notable New Orleans architect, perhaps best known for designing the St. Charles Hotel and Gallier Hall, the former city hall.  With his eyesight failing, Gallier Sr. had turned over ownership of his architecture firm to Gallier Jr. in 1850, and spent the rest of his life traveling the globe.

His final—and fateful—trip was a return to New Orleans in 1866, six years after the completion of Gallier House, aboard the Evening Star

Tragically, just off the coast of South Carolina, the steamer encountered a massive hurricane and sank, all but 18 passengers were lost, including Gallier Sr. and his wife.

“One interesting coincidence,” notes Levkowicz, “is that some of the other victims were members of a French opera company from Paris, who were going to perform at the French Opera House in New Orleans — the one his son built.”

With no physical body to inter, Gallier Jr. designed and erected an elaborate monument to his father in St. Louis Cemetery #3 on Esplanade Avenue near City Park, where he himself would be interred soon after.


The tomb Gallier Jr. designed to honor his father, who was lost at sea.  Photo by Peter Dandridge


“This would be the beginning of the Gallier family tomb,” says Levkowicz.  “It’s much more elaborate, much larger of a monument than you typically see in these cemeteries.  On top is one of the most quintessential funerary figures—the draped urn—meant as a mourning symbol.” 

The tour wraps up in the home’s porte cochère, where pallbearers may have placed Gallier Jr.’s coffin in a horse-drawn carriage before heading to the cemetery, with only the closest of family members following.


Looking toward the home’s porte cocheré at the end of the tour.


James Gallier, Jr.’s life may have ended at the much-too-early age of 41, but the lasting legacy of one of New Orleans’ most important early architects lives on at Gallier House—as does the Creole Death and Mourning Tour every October and into early November. Pay a visit and pay your respects.


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