The Lalaurie Mansion in New Orleans, Louisiana, is said to be one of the most haunted houses in the French Quarter. The extreme and shocking stories that are told about the Lalaurie house are egregiously exaggerated and overwhelmingly gloss over the real issues of race, gender, and violence prevalent with the institution of slavery. Yet, we still voyeuristically consume these types of ghost stories. In this episode, part of our “Spooky” series, we’re exploring the story of 1140 Rue Royal – it’s haunted history so to say – and delving into the events, the media coverage, and the urban legend that grew from the events that took place in the early morning hours of April 10, 1834.
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Transcript for Haunted Slavery: The LaLaurie Mansion:
Written and Researched by Elizabeth Garner Masarik
Produced by Elizabeth Garner Masarik, PhD Candidate and Sarah Handley-Cousins, PhD
Sarah: Hey listeners, a little disclaimer before we begin. We’ll be talking about some pretty gruesome stuff in this episode so you might want to put the earbuds in for this one.
Elizabeth: Neighbors and passersby commented on the strange sounds that emanated from the stately city mansion. People spoke about the house as if it were haunted. A house that was only a few years old at that time. Surely it was a grand house, with all the lavish accouterments that a elegant New Orleans town home, built in the latest style, could command. But something was not right. City dwellers whispered among themselves that the home’s owners had some dark secrets to hide. Enslaved people and free people of color whispered among themselves the knowledge of what they knew was true.
Sarah: But the horrors of what went on inside were not laid bare until the early morning hours of April 10, 1834 when the mansion at 1140 Rue Royal in New Orleans, Louisiana caught aflame.
The people of New Orleans were shocked to discover that the truth about the home, and it’s owners, Madame Delphine Lalaurie and Doctor Louis Lalaurie, were far worse than any rumors they could have imagined.
Elizabeth: The fire was believed to have been set by their enslaved cook, in retaliation for the cruel abuse that she and her fellow enslaved had endured. When passerbys rushed in to the house to help those inside escape, they were shocked to find starved and mutilated bondspeople held and even chained inside.
Sarah: Stories of the LaLauries, particularly Madame Delphine Lalaurie, have become common horror tales. Numerous tours, books and videos document the depraved events that happened in the home on Rue Royal. In fact, the third season of American Horror Story: Coven even takes the characters and weave them into a fictional tale.
Sarah: Today, when you take a popular haunted “history” tour in New Orleans, you’ll be regaled with accounts of human tragedy and suffering while standing outside of the present-day mansion in the heavy, humid New Orleans night.
Elizabeth: I’ve been on a few of these “haunted” tours in New Orleans. They vary in their degree of theatrics and story-telling, truth and fiction. Some are great tours that offer an insightful look at the histories, tragedies, and vibrance of the city. Others are crass, gruesome, and stereotypical. The last time I was on one of these tours, a tour guide told our group that a fire broke out at the house, during a lavish party that was spilling out into the street. When firefighters rushed inside, they were appalled by what they found. Our tour guide regaled us with the horrors that were found inside that night, so gruesome that firefighters ran out into the street and vomited because of what they found. In the attic, they found an operating room full of human experiments. Enslaved people, in various degrees of life and death, were inside; some with horrific surgical atrocities done to them, covered in maggots and excrement. Our guide spoke of a woman whose legs had been broken over and over again until they fused into a sort of human accordion, making her walk spider-like and live crouched inside a truck. He spoke of people chained to the walls with various appendages sewn to their bodies. He also spoke of how, years later when new owners were renovating the house, a gruesome discovery was under the floor. When workers pulled up the floorboards, they discovered the bones of multiple bodies and the most shocking part were the scratch marks on the underside of the floorboards, showing that the people had been buried alive in the house.
Sarah: Because of these atrocities, the Lalaurie mansion is said to be one of the most haunted houses in the French Quarter. The extreme and shocking stories that are told about the Lalaurie house are egregiously exaggerated and overwhelmingly gloss over the real issues of race, gender, and violence prevalent with the institution of slavery. Yet, we still voyeuristically consume these types of ghost stories. In this episode, part of our “Spooky” series, we’re exploring the story of 1140 Rue Royal – it’s haunted history so to say – and delving into the events, the media coverage, and the urban legend that grew from the events that took place in the early morning hours of April 10, 1834.
And I’m Sarah
And we are your historians for this episode of Dig.
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Elizabeth: Ghost hunters, psychics, and the generally curious flock to New Orleans to track and find the existence of ghosts or paranormal entities circulating among us. According to Gallop polling, 1 in 3 Americans believe in paranormal activity. Plenty of people have professed to have experienced weird, unexplainable things.
Sarah: Popular stories shared about the ghosts at the Lalaurie mansion include the story of a man who once ran a furniture store out of the bottom floor of the reconstructed mansion. He reported that his stock was constantly, and mysteriously, stained with blood, feces, and urine. Another is the sighting of a male ghost who turns towards with his mouth open in a mute scream, exposing the nub at the back of his throat where his tongue should be.
Elizabeth: Every haunted house has a story and the Lalaurie mansion in New Orleans is no exception. The mansion and the story behind it are prevalently featured in present-day horror story collections and cable shows, but this is nothing new. The Lalaurie atrocities have a long run in the annals of horror, urban legend, and ghost stories. Primarily, the narrative centers around Madame Delphine Lalaurie, a Creole woman descended from French colonists. She is described as “beautiful,” and having a “glow” about her, but also “sadistic” and “maniacel” in her cruelty and insidiousness towards the enslaved people she owned.
Sarah: Madame Delphine was forty years old when she married Louis LaLaurie. He was twenty five. Louis was her third husband, the previous two having died of natural causes. Louis was born and studied medicine in France and moved to New Orleans in 1825. Newspapers from the time touted Louis as a doctor adept at the newly discovered French practice of “destroying hunches.” New Orleans had few doctors at the time, although plenty of people practiced healing arts and many free women of color worked in the city as midwives and healers. Interestingly, later Lalaurie descendants intent on reclaiming their good name, brushed off the screams that people said they heard coming from the Lalaurie house as emanating from the patients that Dr. Lalaurie was working on while straightening their crooked backs.1
Elizabeth: Delphine gave birth to Louis’ child five months before they actually married, although that didn’t seem to affect her social standing. Accounts suggest that their marriage was never a happy one. An 1828 letter written by a nearby neighbor describes the Lalaurie marriage. [They] “do not have a happy household; they fight, often separate, and then return to each other, which would make one believe that someday they will abandon each other completely.”2
Sarah: In 1831, led it seems primarily by Delphine (since she brought most of the money into the marriage), the Lalauries moved to the newly constructed house at 1140 Rue Royal, on the corner of Royal and Hospital Street, which would later be renamed Govenor Nicholls street. The original home was a stately, two story town home and looked much different than the current austere grey urban mansion, which has had some additions since 1831 including a flat-roofed third story.
Elizabeth: And just a side note, the was actually owned by Nicholas Cage for a few years in the 200s but people said that he never stayed there.
Sarah: Contemporaries described the home as a “beautiful brand new home with an iron balcony and many amenities.”3 Many of the town homes built in New Orleans used the bottom floor as shops or workspaces, however it doesn’t appear the Lalauries used their ground floor for such. The upstairs held bedrooms, a parlor, and dining room and above that was attic space that may have held rooms for domestic servants. A stone fence enclosed a courtyard behind the house and housed a well, a privy – so an outhouse essentially – and a two-story service wing built off the house that contained the kitchen and slave quarters. There were probably other outbuildings as well, such as a carriage house and a laundry. Needless to say, it was, and is, a pretty grand house.
Elizabeth: It was also a fairly full house. Delphine and Louis lived their with their son, Jean Louis Lalaurie. Also, four of Delphine’s second husbands’ siblings lived with them – Pauline age twenty three, Laure aged nineteen, Jeanne age eighteen, and Paulin aged seventeen. So needless to say, this was a big house. Pauline left the home in 1833 when she married and and Paulin left the same year to attend Yale University.
Sarah: Additionally, Delphine’s married children from her previous marriages lived a few blocks away as well as the free women of color her male relatives, including her father, had held as mistresses over the past decades, along with their nearly-white children. In fact, Delphine served as godmother to several of her father’s children with his free quadroon mistress – her half brothers and sisters – and even gifted her half-sister Emesie a young slave of her own. So… complicated stuff here. Many white women did not associate themselves with their mixed-race siblings, and there’s no indication that Delphine treated her own mixed-race siblings or nieces, nephews and cousins with the same respect as her white family members, but there is an interesting history here for sure – and is an example of the unique culture in New Orleans in regards to the color line. Urban legend and horror writers have contributed Delphine’s cruelty towards her slaves as an act of revenge against her father and other white relatives, using the existence of her mixed race family members as reason for her rage at the black people under her control, but historians have found no evidence to confirm or deny that claim.
Elizabeth: However, rumors and court cases involving Delphine’s cruel treatment of her slaves began to spread. Even before the Lalaurie’s had moved to their house on Royal street, Delphine was involved in a court case involving the treatment of her enslaved, and in 1832 she was indicted for abusing her slaves and was made to pay a fine to the court as well as pay her lawyers. She paid the fine by selling some of the slaves she inherited from her parents. So, selling some people you own in order to pay the fines for mistreating other people you own – and this was… not that uncommon.
Sarah: The Lalaurie house was filled with a lavish interior and furnishings. They hosted grand parties that were frequented by New Orleans high society. However, not all was right in the house. Louis spent a lot of time away from the home. In 1832 Delphine petitioned the First Judicial district court for a marital separation, stating Louis treated her badly and had “in the presence of many witnesses… beat and wounded her in the most outrageous and cruel manner.” She told the court that Louis was spending most of his time away and asked the judge to “authorize her to live separately from her husband in the home she now occupies with her family at the corner of Royal and Hospital Streets.” As you’ll remember from our marriage in America and Coverture episodes, the law was not necessarily on the side of the wife. According to Louisiana Civil Code, a husband could separate from a wife if she committed adultery, but a wife could only get a divorce if the husband kept “his concubine in their common dwelling.” Also, a divorce could be granted if their living together rendered their lives “unsupportable” or one person threatened “the life of the other.” Delphine’s petition stated that her life was rendered “unsupportable” because of the physical beatings she endured. Ultimately they stayed married but “separated in property.” However, Louis still visited the home and was living at the residence in the early morning hours April 10, 1834 when the fire broke out.4
Elizabeth: According to papers published within days of the fire, the flames began in the kitchen and quickly spread to the service wing and slave quarters at the rear of the house. One of those that first responded to the fire was Judge Jacques François Canonge, who in his later deposition said that “on arriving he was apprised of there being in one of the apartments some slaves who were chained and were…exposed to perish in the conflagration.” When Cononge confronted the Lalauries about those concerns, he stated that both Louis and Delphine replied that the allegation “was a slander.” When Cononge demanded to know if there were “any slaves in his garret” Louis reportedly said “there are those who would be better employed if they would attend to their own affairs instead of officiously intermeddling with the concerns of other people.” Right, I’m sure he said it that way as his house was on fire right? But essentially he was saying, let them burn. Stay out of my business.
Sarah: The fire was quickly spreading through the building so Judge Canonge ordered the crowd to break down the doors. Those that entered were met with an “appalling sight,” as “several wretched negroes” came from the service wing, “their bodies covered with scars and loaded with chains.” As rescuers ventured in further they discovered “seven slaves, more or less horribly mutilated…. suspended by the neck with their limbs stretched and torn from one extremity to the other.” One woman described as “an elderly negress,” was inside with a “deep wound on her head.” Another enslaved woman was chained in the kitchen. A third woman was fitted with an iron collar and was “chained with heavy irons by the feet.” Another man had a “large hole in his head, his body [covered] from head to foot with scars and filled with worms.” They found a “mulatto boy” who said he had “been chained for five months, being fed daily with only a handful of meal, and receiving every morning the most cruel treatment.”5
Elizabeth: Contemporary media reports of the fire were quick and widespread. Between April 10th and April 15th, the New Orleans papers, the Bee, Courier, and the New Orleans Mercantile Advertiser, carried stories of the ghastly event, which were written in both French and in English. The Bee reported that the “elderly negress…declared to the mayor that it was she who set the house afire with the intention of terminating the sufferings of herself and her companions, or perishing in the fire.”6
Sarah: The injured bondspeople were taken to the Cabildo, or the city hall, for protection and medical treatment. The French edition of the Bee reported that, “at least two thousand persons visited the jail to be convinced…of the sufferings experienced by these unhappy ones. Several have also seen the instruments which were used by these villains: pincers that were applied to their victims to make them suffer all manner of tortures, iron collars with sharpened points, and a number of other instruments for punishment impossible to describe.”7 So already, there is a voyeuristic element to this case as people are clamoring to get inside and see what has happened to these people.
Elizabeth: An angry mob also gathered outside the Lalaurie home and, finding the family gone, destroyed much of the house’s interior, smashing furniture and stripping the home of anything of value. Four days later, it was reported that the yard was dug up and bodies removed, including the body of a child.
Sarah: In the weeks and months that followed the fire, national newspapers took up the story, especially the abolitionist press. The spectator aspect that ran through the reporting of the Lalaurie scandal dwelled on the most lurid and horrific examples of slavery’s evils in order to animate moral imagination and encourage action. Readers of the abolitionist paper, the Liberator, were assured that, had they witnessed the events first-hand, they would recoil in terror and then be flooded with sympathy. “We saw one of the miserable beings… The sight was so horrible that we could scarce look upon it. The most savage heart could not have witnessed the spectacle unmoved.”8
Elizabeth: In May, the Liberator published stories from the New Orleans Advertiser, of the mob that formed outside of the Cabildo and the Lalaurie house, and added:
it is evident to our mind that it was not slaveholders, who prosecuted these
investigations, and brought forth the bones of the miserable victims of as
diabolical a system of tyranny as ever disgraced the annals of mankind. No, no! it
was not slaveholders. They were alarmed at these proceedings. They were
frightened at the threats of ‘vengeance on other persons who had been guilty OF
SIMILAR CONDUCT to that of Madame Lalaurie.’ (Madame! How polite to this
Elizabeth: The abolitionist press went further in their reportings on the story. They not only recounted the events in all of their gruesome, worm-filled details, but also broadened their focus as a condemnation on slavery in its entirety. They pointed out that slaveholders weren’t alarmed at the event, just alarmed that the anger over the event would spread and expose all slaveholders as accomplices.
Sarah: The Christian Secretary, reprinting a New Orleans Bee article on May 3rd, 1834, and extrapolating upon it, called Delphine Lalaurie ““a demon in shape of a woman.”10
The Free Enquirer specifically called Delphine a, “a female monster,” and went on to describe the atrocities in the house.
Seven poor unfortunate slaves were found, some chained to the floor, others with
chains around their necks fastened to the ceiling, and one poor man upwards of 60
years of age chained hand and foot and made fast to the floor in a kneeling
position. His head bore the appearance of having been beaten until it was broken,
and the worms were actually to be seen making a feast of his brains!! A woman
had her back literally cooked (if the expression may be used) with the last; the
very bones might be seen projecting through the skin! but I will not dwell upon a
subject so truly horrible.11
Sarah: And yet, with the exception of one newspaper account’s description of a child slave describing his ill-treatment, the boy found chained and served only a “handful of meal” a day, we never have access to the language of the Black victims themselves.
Elizabeth: The horrors of the event were squarely laid at the feet of Madame Delphine, not her husband Louis. She is centered as the mastermind of the torture and described as a devil and a tiger, with hardly a mention of Louis. Women were a central tenet in the spectacle or voyeurism prevalent in 19th century culture, open to display and judgement. According to the ideals of nineteenth century sentimentalism, they were supposed to be the keepers of the home, the ideal domestic respite from the harshness of the outside world. So a preoccupation with the woman, a woman who had overstepped her place, who was overbearing, who committed cruelties in a supposed place of domestic bliss, who was perhaps haughty or vain, and used her vanity and beauty to mask the terror within – those questions fueled the story surrounding the fire. What kind of Womanhood did Delphine Lalaurie represent?12 Was she a “good” woman or a “bad” woman? And the side of public opinion, and urban legend, have squarely come down on the side of bad, of a woman who did not fit inside the ideal of perfect womanhood. And modern-day depictions of the events continue to suggest that her husband Louis was nothing more than a passive bystander. And I’m not saying she wasn’t cruel, but more contextualizing the gendered aspects of the event.
Sarah: Harriet Martineau, a prominent English social theorist and member of the transatlantic abolition movement, was the first to write a long narrative of the Lalaurie even. She wrote in 1838, “[Louis] was many years younger than his lady, and had nothing to do with the management of her property; so that he has been in no degree mixed up with her affairs and disgraces,” essentially exonerating Louis Lalaurie on the basis of his inattention to household manners. This idea of Delphine as a controlling mistress and Louis as an indifferent, or sometimes emasculated younger husband, persists in the retelling of the story to this day. Martineau described Delphine as a “French creole…graceful and accomplished, so charming in her manners and so hospitable, that no one ventured openly to question her perfect goodness.” So essentially, a devil in disguise. She goes on to write that Delphine was the one who kept her slaves in “wretched condition.”13
Elizabeth: Martineau also fueled some of the aspects of the Lalaurie horror story that swirl between historical and urban legend. She was the first to write some backstory into the tale, elements that have never been proven by historical records, recounting that a neighbor once saw Lalaurie chase a young enslaved girl onto the roof. Rather than receive a beating from the whip Delphine held in her hand, the girl jumped off the roof to her death. Martineau also added to the urban legend by writing that Lalaurie was whisked away in her carriage the night of the fire, but an angry mob attacked the carriage, tore it to pieces, and stabbed the horses to death. Somehow however, the Lalauries escaped. In reality, Delphine did make it to Paris where she died in 1849 and according to to writer Carolyn Morrow Long, who did an excellent archival dive into the Lalaurie atrocity, Delphine’s remains were exhumed in 1851 and reburied in a family tomb in New Orleans Cemetery No. 1.
Sarah: The Lalaurie atrocities found renewed interest in the 1880s, amid a time of both extreme racial violence and a movement to forget the ills of slavery. In the 1888 book Strange True Tales of Louisiana, travel writer George Washington Cable added a ghostly mystique to the story by writing, “The neighborhood is very still. The streets are almost empty of life, and the cleanness of their stone pavements is largely the cleanness of disuse,” positioning the Lalaurie mansion as a haunted place where no one ventured. He writes about the house as most assuredly haunted. In great detail he described the home’s doors that mysteriously opened by themselves, the walls, ceilings, balconies, and windows; centering the house as a character in his story. When he winds his way to the slave quarters he writes that those types of service wings were common in New Orleans but some of the features in the Lalaurie quarters were not, such as seven-inch locks, and windows with iron grates over them with solid iron shutters. He describes “full length batten shutters” attached by “iron hooks,” that covered the doorway to the slave quarters. This doorway, he writes, is where the ghosts travel to and from the house. His story is the first written account of a ghost at the house, seen by a young white girl who, fifty years after the fire, saw the ghost of the eight-year-old enslaved girl who jumped to her death instead of being beaten by Delphine.
Elizabeth: From here on, the Lalaurie atrocities were fodder for ghost stories rather than a condemnation of slavery as other writers built on Cable’s ghost stories and added details of their own. Many of the stories surrounding the event posit that slavery in New Orleans was not as bad as in other places. They highlight the fact that a mob broke into the Lalaurie house – trashing it after word got out about the cruelties committed towards bondspeople – as evidence that the city did not abide by excessive abuse of slaves, while glossing over the fact that those outraged were not elite slaveholders.14 Others attribute Delphine Lalaurie’s French Creole heritage to the cruel treatment she enacted on those she owned, instead of centering it within the acceptable parameters of what slave-holders were allowed to do to their enslaved. Historian Thavolia Glymph has demonstrated through careful analysis of diaries and letters belonging to slaveholding women in the south, in addition to slave narratives, that in fact, white women across the South were extremely violent towards their slaves.15 These “reasonings” are one way that allowed people at the time, and today as well, as a way to voyeuristically look at the Lalaurie story while also viewing it as an outlier, a break in the “norm” without dealing with the horrors of slavery in its entirety.
Sarah: A Washington Post travel writer wrote in 1895 about the demon mistress Lalaurie and described her crimes as explanations for the homes apparent hauntings. He wrote, an event“for a slight misdemeanor [would] cause a finger of an offender to be cut off to-day, and perhaps another one tomorrow, and another on the next day.”16 Yet, the people who Lalaurie committed her crimes against were rarely acknowledged and the system of slavery that allowed her crimes to be committed were never explored. The people that violence was committed against, are not central to the story unless they are the silent ghosts that move about the house.
Elizabeth: Later writers built on Martineau and Cable and added new, and more extreme elements to the ghost story. The stories of medical experimentation were added to the urban legend in 1946, when fiction writer Jeanne deLavigne published Ghost Stories of Old New Orleans. Here is where we find many of the stories that present-day haunted tours present to their audience. Delphine is depicted living in lavish luxury while her slaves were “stark naked, chained to the wall, their eyes gouged out, their fingernails pulled off by the roots…their ears hanging by shreds, their lips sewed together, their tongues drawn out and sewed to their chins, severed hands stitched to bellies, legs pulled joint from joint.” She also writes about the ghosts that haunt the house, like the “grisly” little girl who goes “shrieking through the shill air” as she jumps from the rooftop every night.
Sarah: Numerous other novels and “true crime” stories have been written about the Lalaurie mansion, each re-creating and pushing the story to further and further extremes. And so there’s no doubt that horrible things happened within the Lalaurie mansion. But one has to wonder if the goings on were really that different from the horrors of slavery happening in some degree among all slaveholding households. The macabre preoccupation with the twisted experiments, and the insanity of Delphine herself, gives people a way to talk about slavery without actually talking about slavery. Instead, we voyeuristically see a story of a crazed woman and the diabolical pain she inflicted on others as opposed to a story about a violent tempered and perhaps an abused wife, who in turn, abused and inflicted violence on the people she owned.
Elizabeth: I think Tiya Miles sums it up perfectly in her book, Tales from the Haunted South, so I’m going to quote her directly:
Madame Delphine Lalaurie is consistently described as “mad” and “insane” in published treatments of her history. In the garret of her urban mansion, she is said to have committed the vilest acts of sadistic lunacy. But instead of Madame Lalaurie being a rare type of slave mistress in a a rare type of slave society, historical evidence suggests that she was among many in the New Orleans area and greater South who treated African Americans like chattel, and often brutally so. Entertaining stories of the haunted house on Royal Street depend on the vilification of their central character, Madame Lalaurie, whose guilt absolves New Orleans slaveholders in the past and the New Orleans tourist industry in the present from responsibility for committing or sensationalizing acts of racialized violence.17
Elizabeth: Right, so I guess the takeaway here is that there are places where horrific things have happened. Whether they be asylums, or the cruelties of slavery, but our ways of dealing with those horrifying elements are to be scared of the ghosts of the people who were actually hurt in those instances. Even if people, whether they be mediums or amateur ghost hunters want to help the souls of those that are somehow stuck in a middle world or whatever you want to call it, it’s their voices -the ghost voices – that are really missing from the historical record. In the case of the Lalaurie event, the omission of their voices even at the time of their rescue suggests that the recognition of their bodies as human did not also include a recognition of their capacity for human self-consciousness. It’s their voices that cannot speak for themselves, they are instead frozen in silent screams and rote actions to repeat night after night.
Sarah: And so that’s it for today. Make sure to check out our show notes on the blog, digpodcast.org for the sources used in this episode.
Elizabeth: There’s a lot from this story that we didn’t even begin to touch on and for the sake of our time here, I had to radically edit or we would be talking for another two hours, so I encourage you to pick up the books listed for more information about the subject.
Sarah: Also, visit New Orleans. There are plenty of great historical tours to take, wonderful food to eat, and beautiful places to explore. Drink a Hurricane for us (it’s a drink) and take your historical contextualizing cap with you when you go.
Carolyn Morrow Long, Madame Lalaurie: Mistress of the Haunted House, University Press of Florida, 2012.
Karen Halttunen, “‘”Domestic Differences’: Competing Narratives of Womanhood in the Murder Trial of Lucretia Chapman,” in The Culture of Sentiment : Race, Gender, and Sentimentality in 19th-Century America, edited by Shirley Samuels, Oxford University Press, 1992.
Kristin Nicole Huston, “‘Something at least human’: Transatlantic (re)presentations of Creole women in nineteenth-century literature and culture,” PhD dissertation, University of Missouri – Kansas City, 2015.
Sarah Handley-Cousins, “Ghosts are Scary, Disabled People are Not: The Troubling Rise of the Haunted Asylum,” Nursing Clio, 2015.
Thevolia Glymph, Out of the House of Bondage: The Transformation of the Slaveholding Household, Cambridge University Press, 2008.
Tiya Miles, Tales from the Haunted South: Dark Tourism and Memories of Slavery from the Civil War Era, The University of North Carolina Press, 2015.
W. Fitzhugh Brundage, “The Long Shadow of Torture in the American South,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Literature of the U.S. South, eds. Fred Hobson and Barbara Ladd, 2016.
- Quoted in Carolyn Morrow Long, Madame Lalaurie: Mistress of the Haunted House
(Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2012),544-55.
- Quoted in Long,65.
- Quoted in Long,66.
- Quoted in Long,70.
- Quoted in Long,94.
- Quoted in Long,93.
- Quoted in Long,91.
- Quoted in “The Long Shadow of Torture in the American South,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Literature of the U.S. South, eds. Fred Hobson and Barbara Ladd, 2016,120.
- Quoted in Kristin Nicole Huston, “‘Something at least human’: Transatlantic (re)presentations of Creole women in nineteenth-century literature and culture,” PhD diss., University of Missouri – Kansas City, 2015, ProQuest (3704018), 135.
- Quoted in Huston, 134.
- Quoted in Huston, 137.
- The Culture of Sentiment : Race, Gender, and Sentimentality in 19th-Century America, edited by Shirley Samuels, Oxford University Press, 1992, 44.
- Tiya Miles,ales from the Haunted South: Dark Tourism and Memories of Slavery from the Civil War Era, The University of North Carolina Press, 2015,63.
- Miles, 75.
- Thevolia Glymph, Out of the House of Bondage: The Transformation of the Slaveholding Household (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008).
- Quoted in Fitzhugh, 130.
- Miles, 75.