The Roman Catholic Church has deep roots in New Orleans. In 1721, French military engineer Pierre Le Blond de la Tour designed the most skeletal parts of the colonial hub. One of these early plans depicts a church at the center, a common layout in European cities. This building was to become St. Louis Cathedral, the current seat of the Archdiocese of New Orleans. The church’s central location attests to the fact that religious life was not limited to the confines of one’s home but was a key part of civic life.
The Cathedral is marked with a cross in this 1722 plan of the city. (HNOC, 1974.25.18.9)
Building a church in the center of the city reflected a pillar of Catholic theology of the time. Especially in New Orleans, the church sought to usher all persons into salvation through conversion. Further cementing Catholicism in the region was the arrival of New Orleans’s first monastic order, the Ursuline nuns, in 1727. Led by Marie Tranchepain, the French sisters established their convent at the request of Commissioner Jacques Delachaise, who hoped their presence would support health and morality in the colony.
(HNOC, gift of Mr. Ernest Villere, 1984.222)
Like members of most Catholic religious orders, Ursuline nuns took vows of poverty and did not have many belongings. Many of the sisters did, however, possess prayer books, which they owned before joining the order or which were donated to the convent by the faithful. They were tools used in religious or non-religious spaces, written in French, Spanish, English, and Latin. They often contained morning and evening prayers, called Lauds and Vespers, along with prayers for the celebration of the Eucharist. The Ursuline sisters used prayer books daily; they were integral parts of women’s lives.
HNOC’s holdings include many prayer books from the Ursuline convent. Some of the books are quite modest, with unalluring leather backing and minimally decorated edges. Others are far more attractive with a velvet construction, metal clasps, and a foredge that has swirling designs surrounding Christian iconography. Some are made with an early form of plastic called celluloid, and others with mother-of-pearl and animal shells.
(HNOC, 98-001-RL.1930)
Even the less ostentatious books were expensive, and most people could not afford them. Despite some of these books appearing as though they should sit on a shelf behind glass, they were meant to serve practical functions. These books belonging to the very same women who took vows of poverty displayed the wealth of their owners. It would be rather odd for a nun to wear the latest fashions or rare jewelry, but prayer books that cost as much were acceptable possessions.
Examining the books through the lens of gender provides us with an interesting perspective. Despite being members of a monastic order, the Ursulines were beholden to the feminine ideals of the time. Women were expected to be meek and to tend to their husbands, families, and homes. As nuns, the Ursulines took vows of chastity, eschewing the mainstream ideal of the proper, feminine status of wife and mother—and were uninterested in appeasing the male gaze. The intricate and often feminine decorations of their prayer books may have allowed the sisters to highlight their femininity in a culturally acceptable manner. Their books could have provided one of the few socially and religiously acceptable outlets for feminine expression.
Their prayer books are evidence that, in a world where they were expected to be pious and to abandon the feminine ideal, Ursuline nuns in New Orleans’s early years were still negotiating their identities. The fine materials and detailed designs not only present viewers with gorgeous art but also a glimpse at what some individuals would be willing to pay for that art. These items, owned by women who religiously avoided potentially prurient attention, draw attention and draw eyes to their beauty and their intricacy. The books may have also allowed the nuns to participate in their version of social competition. “Who has the better prayer book?” sounds less vain than “Who has the tighter corset?” The sisters’ possession of these prayer books presents a radical juxtaposition that encourages us to ponder how the Ursulines and others balanced individual expression and societal expectations, wealth and poverty, and their faith in the early history of New Orleans.
