As we meander along the storied Esplanade Avenue, bridging the serene city park with the lively French Quarter, our path leads us to the heart of the Treme. Within this historic enclave, where the echoes of Creole families resonate through the ages, lies a chapter of our ancestry.
It was here, amidst the whispers of Esplanade Ridge, that my sixth great-grandfather found solace in the arms of a free woman of color. Her presence, a beacon of comfort after the loss of his wife, illuminates the complexities of the Plaçage system that shaped New Orleans in the 1700s. This union, forged along the thoroughfare of Esplanade Avenue, hints at the intricate tapestry of our family’s lineage, woven with the threads of time and tradition.
In the context of 18th century New Orleans, quadroon plaçage significantly impacted the relationships between individuals like Adelaide Boisdore and François Dubuisson. Plaçage was a social custom unique to Louisiana, where wealthy white men entered into informal unions with free women of color, typically of mixed-race ancestry. These relationships were often recognized by society and carried certain legal and social privileges for the woman and any children resulting from the union.
Adelaide Boisdore in Creole Society
In the mosaic of New Orleans’ history, few stories illustrate the complexities of race and social dynamics as poignantly as that of Adelaide Boisdore and her ties to the influential François Dubuisson. Through the lens of their connection, we glimpse into the intimate and public gradients of 18th-century Creole society, where the uniquely Louisianan custom of quadroon plaçage played a defining role.
The Fabric of Plaçage
Plaçage was a recognized social contract that intertwined love, economics, and societal positioning. Among free women of color, the quadroon (one-quarter African descent) was often central to these arrangements. They entered into consensual unions with white men, and while these lacked formal recognition through marriage, they bore significant influence within the local culture, as vividly explored in works like the film ‘Courage to Love’.
Adelaide Boisdore, a free woman of color and a quadroon by designation, found herself in the orbit of François Dubuisson, member of the French Creole elite. Under the placage system, her racial identity paralleled desirability, shaping her relationship with François into one that could stride both public acknowledgment and private affection.
A Relationship Defined by Its Era
Their liaison potentially fashioned economic stability and upward social mobility for Adelaide and, subsequently, her son, François Boisdore. While legal documents seldom detailed the affairs of the heart, it’s likely that Adelaide’s son was indeed the product of this union, recognized as the natural son of François Dubuisson – a fact later echoed in his own marriage record.
François Boisdore would go on to foster this lineage, marrying Josephine Sophia Livaudais, a union that buttressed the family’s standing in a city where Creole culture thrived on unspoken rules and silent agreements. The Dubuisson-Boisdore family history becomes even more entrenched in the foundations of New Orleans, leaving their thumbprint on the city’s identity.
Adelaide’s Imprint on Creole Society
Adelaide’s life narrative adheres tightly to the threads of plaçage, dictating not just personal prospects but also the larger cultural canvas. To be a free woman of color was to maneuver within a structure that both constrained and elevated, something Adelaide no doubt experienced firsthand. Her balancing act within these devised roles and expectations underlines a potent resilience at a time when racial lines were drawn with indelible ink and societal niches carved by birthright.
Though the legal validation was often elusive, Adelaide’s impact can be inferred through the opportunities her son garnered and the legacies cemented by successive generations. From the Soniat Guest House to matrimonial bonds that crossed racial divides, the story of Adelaide and her descendents weaves through New Orleans history.
By peering into the lives of historical figures like Adelaide Boisdore and François Dubuisson, we unlock a deeper understanding of Creole society and the influences that bore upon it. The plaçage system that framed Adelaide’s world left imprints still traceable in the cultural vibrancy of New Orleans today.
Her tale is a testament to personal tenacity and the interplay of societal norms that commanded New Orleans’ diverse tapestry. It serves as a historical mirror, reflecting the paradoxes of freedom and limitation, connection and classification—a tale that resonates with the spirit of a city unafraid to reveal every soulful and sordid detail.
Seeded in the rich loam of New Orleans history, the Boisdore and Dubuisson family tree continues to bear its complex fruit, nourished by roots that stretch deep into the heritage of the Crescent City.
François Boisdore, a free man of color, made indelible marks on both the architectural and societal landscapes of New Orleans. Utilizing his freedom in times when such liberties were uncommon for people of color, Boisdore forged a path of renown in architecture and design. Commissioned by a white landowner to showcase his talents in a palpable form, Boisdore designed a Creole townhouse that would later become part of the heritage of New Orleans. His contribution did not stop with one building; a second townhouse soon followed opposite the first, both combining to form what is today known as The Soniat House Hotel.
This property stands as a testament to Boisdore’s ingenuity and his ability to transcend racial barriers of the time. The hotel, comprised of both townhomes, has been meticulously restored to preserve its historic essence. The Spanish wrought-iron balconies, the gracefully curved staircases, and the arched passageways designed for horse-drawn carriages invite guests into a bygone era. The Soniat House Hotel, through its very existence, narrates a remarkable chapter of New Orleans’ history, underscored by François Boisdore’s vision and craftsmanship as a free man of color.
Charlotte Morand the mother of Adelaide Boisdore and Marie-Josèphe Díaz (her half-sister), the familial ties between Adelaide Boisdore and Henriette DeLille become clearer. François Boisdoré, Adelaide’s son, then becomes a cousin to Henriette DeLille.
Henriette DeLille’s journey towards sainthood, marked by the formal opening of her cause of canonization in 1988 and her declaration as Venerable by Pope Benedict XVI in 2010, adds another layer of significance to the intertwined legacies of the Boisdore and DeLille families.
Their shared familial connections, as well as their individual contributions to society and culture, further highlight the interconnectedness and enduring impact of these families within the context of New Orleans’ history.
Today the name Boisdore identifies families and can be found as street names. restaurants, art antiques , gilded wood work, mansions – a Mr. Elliott Boisdore was King in 1980, Mardi Gras. Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club.
Who Knew ?
This explains a lot of unspoken history and the complexity of race relations in New Orleans.
When these first French colonist arrived they had no French woman so they fathered children with the natives and then later the enslaved.
Not sure if these guys were just lonely or if there was an incentive to populate the colony by any means… it was not that long before this that the French were marrying young girls in Canada.
This did help me in understanding our Treme roots and the Mardi Gras Indian tradition.
Laissez les bons temps rouler
- François Dubuisson relationship with Adelaide Boisdore only began after the passing of his wife – just sayin.