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there is plenty of information about Marie
Laveau (Lavaux) and her daughter and namesake
in the legends and lore of Old New Orleans,
known as Marie II, separating the fact from
the myth has always been a challenge for those
seeking a true history of this famous New
Orleans icon. Nearly everything that is known
about them originates in the secretive oral
tradition of the practitioners of Voodoo and
that information has been embellished with
hearsay and drama, making an already larger
than life persona absolutely formidable in
the tales that survive.
there’s not a single person who grew
up in New Orleans without hearing about the
legend and powers of the city’s infamous
Queen of Voodoo.
Marie Laveau is known throughout
the world as “the most famous and powerful
Voodoo Queen of North America.” In actuality,
this famous icon is really a combination of
two people – a famous mother and daughter
– who epitomized the sensational and
exotic appeal of Africanized Voodoo in 19th
and early 20th century New Orleans. Both women
thrived against the strong ethnic backdrop
of this First American Melting Pot, the gumbo
that is New Orleans, and their legend grew
along with their patrons. Rich and poor sought
them out, first the mother and later the daughter
in equal measure, to seek the aid of their
dark powers to control lovers, gain fame and
fortune, become pregnant, and exact revenge
on others important in their lives.
Marie I, the mother, reputedly
was born a Free Woman of Color in New Orleans
around 1794. She was a mulatto, a person of
mixed Black, White and Native American blood.
Some legends describe her as a Creole, a descendant
of the great French and Spanish aristocracies;
still others style her as the daughter of
a wealthy white Southern planter and his Negro
mistress. It is likely that she may have had
the blood of every one of these ethnic groups
coursing through her veins.
Marie I’s marriage to
Jacques Paris, a Free Man of Color from Saint
Dominique (Haiti), is recorded on August 4,
1819: This record lists for the first time
the names of Marie I’s parents, listing
her as an illegitimate daughter of Msr. Charles
Laveau and a Marguerite Darcantrel. Marie
was described as tall, beautiful and statuesque,
with curly black hair, golden skin and "good"
features (then meaning more white than Negro).
She and Paris took up residence in a house,
supposedly part of her dowry from Charles
Laveau, in the 1900 block of North Rampart
Paris disappeared soon after
the marriage, perhaps returning to Sainte
Dominique. A death certificate was filed five
years later without any certificate of interment;
Marie then began addressing herself as the
Widow Paris. She took up employment as a hairdresser
catering to the wealthy white and Creole women
of New Orleans and this is considered the
root of her enduring legend. For many of the
women looked upon Marie as a confidante, confessing
to her their most intimate secrets and desires
about their husbands and lovers, their estates
and families, their husbands’ mistresses
and business affairs, and their other heartfelt
wishes. What probably began as the delivery
of broad-shouldered good advice from one woman
to others ultimately grew into a force and
a legend that still resonates throughout New
Around 1826, Marie took up with
Msr. Louis Christophe Duminy de Glapion, a
quadroon also from Sainte Dominique. They
lived in Marie’s North Rampart Street
house until his death in 1855 (some claim
possibly as early as 1835). Although she and
Glapion never married, Marie had 15 children
by him in rapid succession and ultimately
ended her hairdressing career to devote all
her energies to raising this brood. But Marie
by no means lost a clientele, for as she settled
into domesticity on Rampart Street she also
set about becoming the legend: The Voodoo
Queen of New Orleans.
Voodoo had been secretly practiced
by blacks and islanders in and around New
Orleans since the first boat loads of slaves
arrived from Africa and the Caribbean. New
Orleans was always more French-Spanish than
English-American, and the slaves had came
from the same parts of Africa that had sent
blacks to work the French and Spanish plantations
scattered throughout the colonial New World.
After the blacks had won their independence
in the infamous slave uprising in Haiti (1803-1804),
the Creole planters escaping the rebellion
brought their loyal slaves with them to the
friendlier shores of southern Louisiana where
the French-Spanish culture was more familiar
and welcoming. The slaves were avid practitioners
of the ancient Vodoun and Yoruba religions,
and although deftly hidden among the intricacies
of the prevailing Catholic faith, the old
African beliefs thrived as the slave populations
Quickly tales circulated of
hidden and secret rituals being held deep
in the bayous, complete with the worship of
a snake god called Zombi, and orgiastic dancing,
drinking, and lovemaking. Almost a third of
the worshippers were white, desirous of obtaining
the "power" that was promised by
the priests and mambos directing these rituals.
These meetings frightened the white population.
Many slave owners began to fear that the blacks
were planning an uprising against them, as
had happened in Haiti. As a result, in 1817,
the New Orleans Municipal Council passed a
resolution forbidding blacks to gather for
dancing or any other purpose except on Sundays,
and only in places designated by the mayor.
The accepted spot in the City was Congo Square
on North Rampart Street, now located adjacent
to Armstrong Park. Blacks, most of them voodooists,
met, danced and sang in the stylized rituals,
overtly worshipping their gods while entertaining
(and frightening) the whites with their Africano
By the 1830’s there were
many voodoo mambos in New Orleans, fighting
over control of the Sunday Congo Square dances
and the secret ceremonies still held on the
shores of Lake Pontchartrain. But when "Mamzelle"
Marie Laveau stepped forward to begin her
reign, contemporaries reported the other queens
faded before her; some succumbing to her powerful
gris-gris, some being physically driven away
by the brute force of Marie’s growing
mass of followers. Marie also gained control
of the Congo Square Dances by entering before
all the other dancers and entertaining the
fascinated onlookers with her snake.
Marie knew the sensation that
the rituals at the lake were causing and used
it to further the purposes of the voodoo movement
in New Orleans. She invited the public, press,
police, the New Orleans roués, and
others thrill-seekers of the forbidden fun
to attend. Charging admission made voodoo
profitable for the first time. Marie was always
a devout, practicing Catholic and she added
influences of that religion -holy water, incense,
statues of the saints, and Christian prayers
- to the already sensational ceremonies of
Her entrepreneurial efforts
went even further by organizing secret orgies
for wealthy white men seeking beautiful black,
mulatto and quadroon women for mistresses.
Marie presided over these meetings herself
and they invariably became “secret”
public knowledge. Eventually, Marie Laveau,
with all of the secret knowledge which she
had gained from the Creole boudoirs combined
with her own considerable knowledge of spells
along with her undeniable magical abilities,
became the most powerful woman in New Orleans.
Whites of every class sought her help in their
various affairs and amours while blacks saw
her as their leader. Judges paid her as much
as $1000 to assure victory in elections; other
whites paid $10 (a high fee at the time) for
an insignificant love powder. But she never
charged the black community for her services.
At the age of 70, in 1869, Marie
gave her last performance as a voodoo queen.
She announced she was retiring and retired
to a home located on the more peaceful St.
Ann Street in the Old Quarter. But she never
completely retired. She continued her work
until at least 1875, when she is said to have
been active visiting the poor and imprisoned
and still giving readings in her home.
On June 16, 1881, Marie I, Widow
Paris, died in her St. Ann Street house. Reporters
of the day painted her in the most glorious
terms, a saintly figure of 98 (actually 87),
who nursed the sick, and prayed incessantly
with the diseased and condemned. Reporters
called her the recipient "in the fullest
degree" of the "heredity gift of
beauty" in the Laveau family, who gained
the notice of Governor Claiborne, French General
Humbert, Aaron Burr, and even the Marquis
de Lafayette. Her obituaries claimed she lived
a pious life surrounded by her Catholic religion,
with no mention of her Voodoo past. Even one
of her surviving children, Madame Legendre,
claimed her saintly mother never practiced
Voodoo and despised the cult.
Laveau's reported Tomb in St. Louis Cemetery
Then a similar tall woman with
flashing black eyes, and the ability to control
lives, emerged as Marie Laveau II.
of Marie Laveau II Saint Louis cemetery Number
Marie Laveau Glapion was born
February 2, 1827, one of the 15 children crowding
first the home on Rampart Street and then
the St. Ann Street cottage. It was never known
whether her mother, Marie I, chose the role
for her daughter, or whether Marie II chose
the role herself to follow in her mother’s
footsteps. By most accounts she shared her
mother’s features to an extraordinary
degree, a virtual replica of Marie I. Others
say the pupils of her eyes were half-moon
shaped and this is how you could tell daughter
from mother. Apparently, Marie II lacked the
warmth and compassion of her mother because
she seems to have inspired more fear and subservience
than her mother did. Like her mother before
her, she began work as a hairdresser; eventually,
however, she abandoned that profession to
run a bar and brothel on Bourbon Street, between
Toulouse and Saint Peter.
Marie continued operations at
the "Maison Blanche" (White House),
the house which her mother allegedly had built
for secret voodoo meetings and liaisons between
white men and black women. Marie II was proclaimed
to be a talented procuress, able to fulfill
any man’s desires for a price. Lavish
parties were held at the Maison Blanche offering
champagne, fine food, wine, music, and naked
black girls dancing for white men, politicians,
and high officials. They were never raided
by the police who feared that if they crossed
Marie she might "hoodoo" them.
Marie II continued in the rich
traditions and persona of the Voodoo Queen
began by her mother so many years before.
The Saint John's Day celebrations were especially
connected to the Voodoo rituals of the time,
celebrated along the shores of St. John’s
Bayou where it met the waters of Lake Pontchartrain.
The St. John celebration of 1872 was distinguished
by the presence of both mother and daughter
and began as a religious ceremony in the tradition
of Marie I. She came with a crowd singing.
Soon a cauldron was boiling with water from
a beer barrel, into which went salt, black
pepper, a black cat, a black rooster, a various
powders, and a snake sliced in three pieces
representing the Trinity. With all this boiling
the practitioners ate, whether the contents
of the cauldron or not is not known. Afterwards
or during the feast was more singing, appropriately
to "Mamzelle Marie." Then it was
cooling off time at which all stripped and
swam in the lake. This was followed by a sermon
by Marie II, then a half hour of relaxation,
or sexual intercourse. Then four naked girls
put the contents of the cauldron back into
the beer barrel. Marie I gave another sermon,
by this time it was becoming daylight and
all headed for home. Marie II continued these
yearly rituals throughout her lifetime.
Strangely, although Marie I
seemed almost to fade into obscurity, Marie
II "died" well within in the public
eye. Since the public had never made a true
distinction between mother and daughter, the
death of one ended the career of the other.
Marie II still reigned over the voodoo ceremonies
of the blacks and ran the Maison Blanche,
but she never regained high notice in the
press. Supposedly she drowned in a big storm
in Lake Pontchartrain in the 1890s, but some
people claimed to have seen her as late as
Death did not end the power
of the Great Marie Laveau.
Though the Widow Paris is reportedly
buried in the family crypt in St. Louis Cemetery
No. 1, the vault bears the name of Marie Philome
Glapion, deceased June 11, 1897. If this inscription
is correct, this would rightly be the burial
place of Marie II. But the vault still attracts
the curious and the faithful from all corners
of the globe and gifts of food, money, flowers,
candles, and artifacts can always be found
there. Believers and the simply superstitious
ask for Marie’s help in an elaborate
knocking and turning ritual, marking the white
stone with three crosses of red brick in the
effort to write their hopes on her memory.
Curiously, in St. Louis Cemetery
No. 2 there is another vault bearing the name
of Marie Laveau. This vault has red crosses
on it as well and is distinguished as the
"wishing tomb” where young women
can go to petition the great Voodoo Queen
when seeking husbands.
Many cemeteries around New Orleans
claim to be the last resting place of one
or both of the legendary Laveau women, but
the St. Louis No. 1 is recognized as the most
accurate location. Still, there are others
who insist that the Great Mamzelle never died
and that she even visits the cemeteries herself,
in disguise, chuckling with amusement at the
devotees who honor her legend even now.
Marie Laveau's grave
in New Orleans is visited daily by curiosity
seekers and true believers of voodoo.
Legend has it that you should make three
"X" marks with red brick found
nearby, place your hand over the marks,
close your eyes, and knock hard against
the tomb three times.
suggested by many New Orleans tourist
guides that the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans
still grants wishes.
COVER THE PASSING OF MARIE LAVEAU!
Marie Philomene Laveau Glapion
DEATH OF MARIE LAVEAU
A WOMAN WITH A WONDERFUL HISTORY
ALMOST A CENTURY OLD, CARRIED TO THE TOMB
Those who have passed by the quaint old house
on St. Ann, between Rampart and Burgundy streets
with the high frail looking fence in front
over which a tree or two is visible, have
been within the last few years, noticed through
the open gateway a decrepid old lady with
snow white hair, and a smile of peace and
contentment lighting up her golden features.
For a few years past she has been missed from
her accustomed place. The feeble old lady
lay upon her bed with her daughter and grand
children around her ministering to her wants.
On Wednesday the invalid sank
into the sleep, which knows no waking. Those
whom she had befriended crowded into the little
room where she was exposed, in order to obtain
a last look at the features, smiling even
in death, of her who had been so kind to them.
At 5 o'clock yesterday evening
Marie Laveau was buried in her family tomb
in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Her remains were
followed to the grave by a large concourse
of people, the most prominent and the most
humble joining in paying their last respects
to the dead. Father Mignot conducted the funeral
Marie Laveau was born ninety-eight
years ago. Her father was a rich planter,
who was prominent in all public affairs, and
served in the Legislature of this State. Her
mother was Marguerite Henry, and her grandmother
was Marguerite Semard. All were beautiful
women of color. The gift of beauty was hereditary
in the family, and Marie inherited it in the
fullest degree. When she was twenty-five years
old she was led to the altar by Jacques Paris,
a carpenter. This marriage took place at the
St. Louis Cathedral. Pere Antoine, of beloved
memory, conducting the service, and Mr. Mazureau
the famous lawyer, acting as witness. A year
afterwards Mr. Paris disappeared, and no one
knows to this day what became of him. After
waiting a year for his return she married
Capt. Christophe Glapion. The latter was also
very prominent here, and served with distinction
in the battalion of men of San Domingo, under
D'Aquin, with Jackson in the war of 1815.
Fifteen children were the result
of their marriage. Only one of these is now
alive. Capt. Glapion died greatly registered,
on the 26th of June, 1855. Five years afterwards
Marie Laveau, became ill, and has been sick
ever since, her indisposition becoming more
pronounced and painful within the last ten
Besides being very beautiful
Marie also was very wise. She was skillful
in the practice of medicine and was acquainted
with the valuable healing qualities of indigenous
She was very successful as a
nurse, wonderful stories being told of her
exploits at the sick bed. In yellow fever
and cholera epidemics she was always called
upon to nurse the sick, and always responded
promptly. Her skill and knowledge earned her
the friendship and approbation, of those sufficiently
cultivated, but the ignorant attributed her
success to unnatural means and held her in
Notably in 1853 a committee
of gentlemen, appointed at a mass meeting
held at Globe Hall, waited on Marie and requested
her on behalf of the people to minister to
the fever stricken. She went out and fought
the pestilence where it was thickest and many
alive today owe their salvation to her devotion.
Not alone to the sick man was
Marie Laveau a blessing. To help a fellow
citizen in distress she considered a priceless
privilege. She was born in the house where
she died. Her mother lived and died there
before her. The unassuming cottage has stood
for a century and a half. It was built by
the first French settlers of adobe and not
a brick was employed in its construction.
When it was erected it was considered the
handsomest building in the neighborhood. Rampart
street was not then in existence, being the
skirt of a wilderness and latterly a line
of entrenchment. Notwithstanding the decay
of her little mansion, Marie made the sight
of it pleasant to the unfortunate. At anytime
of night or day any one was welcome to food
Those in trouble had but to
come to her and she would make their cause
her own after undergoing great sacrifices
in order to assist them.
Besides being charitable, Marie
was also very pious and took delight in strengthening
the allegiance of souls to the church. She
would sit with the condemned in their last
moments and endeavor to turn their last thoughts
to Jesus. Whenever a prisoner excited her
pity Marie would labor incessantly to obtain
his pardon, or at least a commutation of sentence,
and she generally succeeded.
A few years ago, before she
lost control of her memory, she was rich in
interesting reminiscences of the early history
of this city. She spoke often of the young
American Governor Claiborne, and told how
the child-wife he brought with him from Tennessee
died of the yellow fever shortly after his
arrival with the dead babe upon her bosom
was buried in a corner of the old American
Cemetery. She spoke sometimes of the strange
little man with the wonderful bright eyes
Aaron Burr, who was so polite and so dangerous.
She loved to talk of Lafayette, who visited
New Orleans over half a century ago. The great
Frenchman came to see her at her house, and
kissed her on the forehead at parting.
She remembered the old French
General, Humbert, and was one of the few colored
people who escorted to the tomb long since
dismantled in the catholic Cemetery, the withered
and grizzly remains of the hero of Castelbar.
Probably she knew Father Antoine better than
any living in those days - for he the priest
and she the nurse met at the dying bedside
of hundreds of people - she to close the faded
eyes in death, and he, to waft the soul over
the river to the realms of eternal joy.
All in all Marie Laveau was
a most wonderful woman. Doing good for the
sake of doing good alone, she obtained no
reward, oft times meeting with prejudice and
loathing, she was nevertheless contented and
did not lag in her work. She always had the
cause of the people at heart and was with
them in all things. During the late rebellion
she proved her loyalty to the South at every
opportunity and fully dispensed help to those
who suffered in defense of the "lost
cause." Her last days were spent surrounded
by sacred pictures and other evidences of
religion, and she died with a firm trust in
heaven. While God's sunshine plays around
the little tomb where her remains are buried,
by the side of her second husband, and her
sons and daughters, Marie Laveau's name will
not be forgotten in New Orleans. Daily Picayune
- June 18, 1881
Death of the Queen of the Voudous
Just Before St. John's Eve.
"On the eve of St. John
I must wander alone,
In thy bower, I may not be!"
" Marie Glassion, nee Lavaux, was buried
yesterdy evening, and her funeral was attended
by large numbers of the colored population.
Marie Lavaux, as is well-known by all the
old residents of the city, was the queen of
the Voudous, that curious sect of superstitious
darkies that combined the hard traditions
of African Legends with the fetich worship
of our Creole Negroes.
She was a woman of some presence
and considerable conversational powers. Somewhat
bent with years when she last officiated as
regnant mistress of her weird domain, she
yet retained a remarkable control over her
whilom subjects and impressed them with her
sovereignty. As a rule reticent on subjects
other than fetich worship, she was somewhat
loquacious and quite a spirited talker.
Her eyes were peculiar in their
look and had considerable magnetism about
them. Her face was of the old Negro type,
expressionless except when highly animated,
wrinkled from forehead to chin and with a
skin not unlike parchment.
She was a peculiar character,
and one which essentially belongs to an era
of Louisiana long since passed away. That
remarkable woman died at the advanced age
of ninety-eight years, and it is curious that
her demise should have happened within a few
days of the "eve of good St. John,"
which is the anniversary of the Voudous, and
which has been commemorated by the sect under
her regency, for the last forty years, on
the twenty-fourth of June of each year. When
the next celebration comes, the Voudous will
have no queen and on the eve of St. John Marie
Lavaux will be voudouing with the ghosts of
the past and her charms and incantations,
will be of no avail. For she had love charms
that brought lovers together and fearful drugs
that sundered loving souls. Among her people
her incantations, fetiches and charms were
supposed to be without fail, and thousands
crowded around her to obtain relief, fortune
or revenge. How they were satisfied is neither
here nor there, but they believed in the dark
superstition, and faith covered all the faults
and lies that made her a sorceress and a queen.
With Marie Lavaux dies the last of these old
Negro Creole characters that had almost risen
in New Orleans up to the standard illustrations.
First went old Zabette, the
celebrated cake woman of the St. Louis Cathedral,
who in old times delighted the children and
even some of the grown folks with her home-made
pastry and delicious "boiere du pays,"
always kept cool in a bucket of clearest water.
Of early mornings Zabette gave out choice
black coffee in tiny cups to her clients,
and we remember an old song composed ex tempore
by a representative Creole on a certain morning
succeeding a sleepless night, which she took
as the price of a cup of coffee, and which
began in this wise:
"Piti fille, piti fille,
Piti fille qui couri dan de lo."
Then went Rose, the coffee woman of the French
Market, one of the comeliest of her race,
black as Erebus, but smiling always and amicable
as dawn. Her coffee was the essence of the
fragrant bean, and since her death the lovers
of that divine beverage wander listlessly
around the stalls of Sunday mornings with
a pining at the bosom which cannot be satisfied.
Now Marie Lavaux is gone, the
least graceful or poetic of these strange
personations of the past, but undoubtedly
the most powerful, and we can say that with
her vanishes the embodiment of the fetich
superstition and the last representative of
that class whose peculiar idiosyncracies were
derived from the habits and customs of old
Louisiana. Much evil dies with her, but should
we not add, a little poetry?" New Orleans
Democrat - June 17, 1881
"Who has been stuffing our contemporaries
in the matter of the defunct voudou queen,
Marie Lavoux? For they have undoubtedly been
stuffed, nay crammed, by some huge practical
joker. The informant for all is evidently
the same, as the stories of the Picayune,
Item and States consist admirably in their
uniform departure from historical fact. According
to the accounts of these esteemed but deluded
contemporaries, Marie Lavoux was a saint,
who had spent a life of self-sacrifice and
abnegation in doing good to her fellow-mortals,
and whose immaculate spirit was all but too
pure for this world.
One of them even so far in his
enthusiasm as to publish a touching interview
with the sainted woman, in which the reporter
boasts of having deposited a chaste kiss on
her holy forehead. We are sorry for that reporter
if his story is true, for if he really believes
it all, his only consolation is in the fact
that greenness is the color of hope. These
fictions had one good result, for they created
a vast amount of merriment among the old Creole
residents, and in fact among all men of mature
age who knew the social history of their time
in New Orleans.
The fact is that the least said
about Marie Lavoux's sainted life, etc., the
better. She was, up to an advanced age, the
prime mover and soul of the indecent orgies
of the ignoble Voudous; and to her influence
may be attributed the fall of many a virtuous
woman. It is true that she had redeeming traits.
It is a peculiar quality of the old race of
Creole Negroes that they are invariably kind-hearted
and charitable. Marie Lavoux made no exception.
But talk about her morality and kiss her sainted
brow - pouah!!! The New Orleans Democrat,
June 18, 1881
The last account we have of
her was published in 1886 by George W. Cable,
one of the most respected Southern journalists
of his era:
"I once saw, in extreme
old age, the famed Marie Laveau. Her dwelling
was in the quadroon quarter of New Orleans
... In the center of a small room whose ancient
cypress floor was worn with scrubbing, sprinkled
with crumbs of soft brick -- a Creole affectation
of superior cleanliness -- sat, quaking with
feebleness in an ill-looking old rocking chair,
her body bowed, her wild, gray witch's tresses
hanging about her shriveled, yellow neck,
the queen of the Voodoos. Three generations
of her children were within the faint beckon
of her helpless, wagging wrist and fingers
... one could hardly help but see that her
face, now so withered, had once been handsome
and commanding. There was still a faint shadow
of departed beauty in the forehead, the spark
of an old fire in the sunken, glistening eyes,
and vestige of imperiousness in the fine,
slightly aquiline nose, and even about her
silent, woebegone mouth ... Her daughter was
also present, a woman of some 70 years, and
a most striking and majestic figure. In features,
stature and bearing she was regal. One had
but to look at her, and impute her brilliances
-- too untamable and severe to be called charms
and graces -- to her mother, and remember
what New Orleans was long years ago, to understand
how the name of Marie Laveau should have driven
herself inextricably into the traditions of
the town and the times."
On June 16, 1881, word went
out that Marie Laveau was dead. The Times
Democrat wrote, "Much evil dies with
her, but should we not add, a little poetry
The following are some places
of interest that any fan of Marie Laveau must
include for a perfect visit to the haunts
of this most famous Voodoo Queen Of New Orleans.
1801 Dauphine Street Marie -Laveau's father's
1900 block of North Rampart
Street (in Faubourg Marigny) - wedding house
1016, 1028, 1022, 1020 St.
Ann (originally 152 Rue St. Ann) -house received
after helping win a falsely accused rape case
St. Louis No. 1, Crypt No.
3 - reported site of Marie Laveau's tomb
723 Rue Dumaine - New Orleans
Historic Voodoo Museum
729 Bourbon Street - Marie
Laveau's House of Voodoo
Notes and Bibliography
1. Robert Tallant, Voodoo in New Orleans (Gretna:
Pelican Publishing Company, 1946), p. 53.
2. Ibid., 54.
3. Jessie Mulira, "The Case of Voodoo
in New Orleans" in Africanisms in American
Culture, ed. Joseph E. Holloway (Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1990), p. 49.
4. Adrian Nicholas McGrath, The Voodoo Queen,
5. Mulira, p. 54.
6. Guiley, Rosemary Ellen.
The Encyclopedia of Witches and Witchcraft.
New York: Facts On File, 1989 [ISBN 0-8160-2268-2]
Antippas, A.P. "A Brief
History of Voodoo." New Orleans: Hembco,
Gandalfo, Charles. "Marie
Laveau of New Orleans." New Orleans:
New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum, 1992.Haskins,
Jim. Voodoo and Hoodoo. Briarcliff Manor:
Stein and Day, 1978.
Martinez, Raymond J. Mysterious
Marie Laveau, Voodoo Queen. New Orleans: Hope
Mulira, Jessie Gaston. "The
Case of Voodoo in New Orleans." In Joseph
E. Holloway, ed., Africanisms in American
Culture. Bloomington: Indiana University Press,
Tallant, Robert. Voodoo in
New Orleans. Gretna: Pelican Publishing, 1956.
MARIE LAVEAU ON THE INTERNET
See the Portrait
of Marie Laveau Franck
Schneider after George Catlin
Oil on canvas
Performed by Bobby Bare
Written by Shel Silverstein and Baxtor
The most famous of the voodoo queens
that ever existed
Is Marie Laveau, down in Louisanaa
There's a lot of wierd, ungodly tales
She's supposed to have a lot of magic
potions, spells and curses....
Down in Louisana,
where the black trees grow
Lives a voodoo lady named Marie Laveau
Got ablack cat's tooth and a Mojo bone
And anyone who wouldn't leave her alone
She'd go (growl) another man done gone.
She lives in a swamp
in a hollow log
With a one-eyed snake and a three-legged
She's got a bent, bony body and stringy
If she ever seen y'all messin' 'round
She'd go (growl) another man done gone.
And then one night
when the moon was black
Into the swamp come handsome Jack
A no good man like you all know
(TALK) He was lookin' around for Marie
He said Marie Laveau,
you handsome witch
Gimme a little a little charm that'll
make me rich
Gimme a million dollars and I tell you
what I'll do
This very night, I'm gonna marry you
Then It'll be (growl) another man done
So Marie done some magic, and she shook
a little sand
Made a million dollars and she put it
in his hand
Then she giggled and she wiggled, and
she said Hey, Hey
I'm gettin' ready for my weddin' day.
But old handsome Jack
he said goodbye Marie
You're too damned ugly for a rich man
Then Marie started mumblin', her fangs
Her body started tremblin', and her
eyes started flashin'
And she went (growl) another man done
So if you ever git
down where the black trees grow
And meet a voodoo lady named Marie Laveau
If she ever asks you to make her your
Man, you better stay with her for the
rest of your life
Or it'll be (growl) another man done
Articles & Haunted Stories
HAVEN'T BEEN REALLY HAUNTED UNTIL YOU'VE
NEW ORLEANS VOODOO RITUALS
Ms Glassman is also the artist for the ENOCHIAN
TAROT DECK, artist and co-creator of THE NEW
ORLEANS VOODOO TAROT, and author and artist
of the book VODOU VISIONS: ENCOUNTERS WITH
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