Prairie des Femmes

By Ashlee Wilson

Wife's Prairie

 

The Matas "barn", Robin Plantation 

St. Landry Parish, Louisiana-history and archaeology of a nineteenth century milk house 

Sara Anne Hahn Louisiana State University and Agricultural and Mechanical College, 2005

Mon cœur quand il me parle

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Medicinal Plants on the Coteau

In the flat coastal plain of south Louisiana high ground is sacred. Our indigenous ancestors were mound builders. Settlements appeared along chenières, or ridges of oaks, and local folklore says that even one old live oak tree is a good sign that the surrounding land won't flood. In times of severe hurricane, one survival skill was to lash one's self to the mid-branches of the live oak with grape and muscadine vines to ride it out. Those that did this usually survived. 

In this near sea-level prairie, it is known that the hill of Grand Coteau is sacred, high holy ground. It was this way long before the land was claimed by colonial-era settlers like Sieur Smith, the Religious of the Sacred Heart and the Jesuits. Much is made about the Catholic presence of the land, because of the early institutions such as nearby Saint Charles College, Saint Ignatius School and the Schools of the Sacred Heart, where a miracle happened when Mary Wilson was healed by the intercession of Saint John Berchmans. But a local legend is that it was the Grand Coteau where indigenous men, notably the Opelousa and Ishak, would go to "fight with honor". The validity of this and what it means, whether battle, ceremony, hunting or even competitive ball game is still mysterious. This story seems to weave in with lore of the Prairie des Femmes, just across the bayou and east of the Academy for girls, being a place where the women stayed when the men left to fight or hunt. 

Grand Coteau is on the Coteau or Coteau Ridge. It is the ancient bluffs of the Mississippi River when it flowed west, also called the Teche escarpment. The land that holds the ancient convent and Academy of the Sacred Heart has been called "la prairie des coteaux". The Academy is a pastoral landscape reminiscent of old France and colonial Louisiana, containing multiple live oak and pine alleys, pecan alleys, formal gardens and orchards, open rolling prairie with horse and cow pastures. The four-story Academy is surrounded galleries and a garconière, formal gardens, rolling pastures and then beyond, the Secret Hart and the bois vièrge, a forest primeval that has never been disturbed throughout the centuries. In the formal gardens one notices the early varieties of roses, crepe myrtles, camelias, azaleas, sweet olive and gardenias. There are white, red and pink roses and azaleas, as well as pineapple guava bushes in the center whose flowers taste like Fruit Loops. L'absinthe grows in the pecanères which are plentiful and produce sweet full pecans in the fall.  The sheer age of some of these bushes and trees ensures high yield of their medicines and fruits. I often think that the sisters and enslaved people who planted and developed these gardens, they who indeed survived times of famine, flood and war back here, seem to have taken seriously their choices of edibles and ornamentals.  

Over the seasons of working at the Academy and as my eyes adjusted to the landscape, they also zoomed in on the native and medicinal plants that pop up at the fringes and in the lands that surround the gardens. This seemed to be a deeper indicator of native land stewardship, a sign of ancient wild habitation still amid the efforts to tame the land. Chou-gras (poke salat) was shooting up at the base of the pines of the alley, in Saint Francis Patio and along the Chapel wall. The woods to the east of the Academy were full of poke as well as nettle, resinous pine, violets and muscadine. In the tree lines are oak, pecan, copal, cherry, magnolia, chassepareille, cherry laurel, hickory, tulip tree, bitter orange and palmetto. I collect Spanish moss, perilla, chickweed, violet flower, root and leaf, white clover, green resurrection fern, and orange chanterelle mushrooms from the oak alley. I find fresh herbe cabri every fall along the ditches of the Jesuit pasture. Their leaves can be used for tea and the young seed eaten as a melon flavored snack.

The nettles in the woods I gather bare handed in the spring and dry the leaves for tea. I'll use the formic acid on the leaves for muscle and mood therapy and the seeds for nutrition. From the poke I gather berries for dye, the leaves for spinach and the extremely toxic and dangerous root for inflammation therapy. The bitter orange fruit we gather and use for Christmas decoration with cloves for pomanders. I gather white flowers of the sweet olive, orange, and gardenia that fill the gardens at different intervals to make enfleurage oils. The girls and I make accessories such as flower crowns, necklaces and crafts (like Marie Antoinette's bouffant) with the fallen roses, azaleas, camelias and wildflowers of the garden. I harvest baume from the native plant garden as a spice and perfume, chassepareille leaves for insect repellant and cherry from the woods for bounce. I harvest pine sap daily from the trees of the pine alley, sometimes they appear as resinous ambers that fall from above, and other times in the clearest tears of sap that are produced when the grounds crew hit the exposed roots with lawn mowers while manicuring the gardens. I walk the pine alley in the fog of the morning collecting miniature domes of sap from roots like dewfall. 

l'herbe cabri

Loofa Flowers and Starlink

 

La Fin de Semaine

 vendredi le 4

duty on the Gallery, mass at 8 am to welcome two Religious of the Sacred Heart back to Grand Coteau, gouter of chocolate chip cookies under the link afterward. 

samedi le 5

workshop on vineraire at Monique's prairie land, Birria pizza and Horchata in Opelousas with the boys

dimanche le 6

taught a Louisiana French class online, Monique's party, painting, Creole Renaissance Festival in Rayne to see J. Paul and the Zydeco Nubreeds and Keith Frank and the Soileau Zydeco Band

lundi le 7 

two neighbor women called for herbs, I gave them freshly dug lizard's tail from Frozard Community Garden, elderberry pith for the eyes, manglier, sweet olive flower oil, vineraire

Summer Collage

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Prairie des Femmes Pigment Portals

 

Prairie des Femmes Earth Pigments

​I spent this Labor Day weekend here in the Prairie participating in Monique Verdin's annual land celebration here at her land in the Prairie. 

On Saturday I gave a workshop on vineraire to a group of women and we made smudges and drank iced mint tea. 

On Sunday we had a party with lots of good food. Joey made white beans and sausage on the braise and there was so much watermelon and fresh boiled shrimp I ate until I couldn't anymore. The most special part besides the superlative group of herbalists, artists, writers, producers, professors and generally lovely friends Monique brings together so often was the earth pigment paints hand made and provided by Tammy Greer. Like Monique she is a member of the United Houma Nation and specializes in making paints and dyes with natural materials. She generously allowed us to paint with her assortment of powders we reconstituted with water. There were red and yellow ochres and pink clays from far north. We used blue butterfly pea powder, charcoal, smilax, elderberry, prickly pear, hibiscus and yellow dock.

Prairie aux Femmes 1760

 

Eux-Autres Connaît Pas

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1927 Flood in Prairie des Femmes, Prairie Basse, and Grand Coteau

 

Late August Morning Scene

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Prairie des Femmes Schemel Record 1780

 

“A tract of land situated in the Opelousas Parish, and lying in the Prairie des Femmes”

 

Record Courtesy of Alex DePaul Lee

Je suis la Prairie des Femmes

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Mon cœur équand il me parle

Mi'kmaw Shamanism and the Sacred Approach

Mededeskooi is a mythical magical herb from Mi'kmaw folklore translated as the "rattling plant". 

The historical ethnography of the Micmac of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries: Part 6 Bernard Gilbert Hoffman Claims and Historical Research Centre 

But perhaps the most interesting of Micmac magical herbs is that known as mededeskooi, or, as the Micmacs translate it, "rattling plant," because its three leaves strike each other constantly with a sound like that of the rattlesnake. I have not been able to identify the plant, nor can I positively assert that it really exists. I have met but one Micmac who claimed to have seen it, and generally the Micmacs are reluctant to talk about it, because of its highly mystical associations. But it is certainly strongly suggestive of the pasaw, or rattlesnake root, of the Creeks, already referred to, which occupies the same preeminence, and gives its name to the whole magic decoction used at initiations.1 The Micmacs describe the plant as resembling the wild turnip. It stands about knee high, with leaves about eight inches long, like those of the poplar. Its root is the size of one's fist, and the stalk is surrounded by numerous brownish yellow balls as large as buckshot. Others describe the plant as being much smaller. Stephen Bartlett, who thinks he saw the plant, buried some of the yellow balls, but next morning they and the plant had disappeared. As Stephen admits, however, that he did not go through any of the ceremonies necessary in approaching the plant, he is considered a doubtful authority, even by himself.

 To find the plant, one must first hear the bird called cooasoonech ("dwelling in old logs") singing in an interval in the forest, otherwise the plant is invisible. This bird is brown and very small, but is chosen chief of all the birds because he is quickest and can hide in the smallest holes. He is sometimes called booöin, "the magician," from his aptitude for quick disappearance, and his ability to fly through fire without being injured. When he sings, one should follow him at once, although, like the mystic songster known in Yucatan, he often leads one on and on through the forest depths, leaving him at last lost and forlorn. But the fortunate 6ne will at length hear the rattling leaves of the magic plant as he approaches it, and then the plant itself will soon be seen. He must now gather thirty sticks and lay them in a pile near the plant. Next he must induce a girl, the more beautiful the better, to accompany him to the plant. Under circumstances of the greatest temptation, both must have no wish save to obtain the medicine or the plant will disappear. They must approach it crawling on hands and knees. Now the plant is inhabited by the spirit of a rattlesnake, which comes forth as they near the plant, and circles around it.1 The man must pick up the serpent, which will then disappear without harming him. These tests of perseverance, self-control, and courage are all I have heard, but there may be others. The plant must be divided in four portions, of which three may be taken, but one must be left standing. The three parts are scraped and steeped and a portion worn about the person. Some say that, divided in seven parts, this medicine will cure seven diseases, but the great majority believe that it will cure any disease and gratify any wish. It is held to be especially potent as a love-compeller. No woman can resist it. If the possessor wills it, she will follow him until he breaks the spell by touching her. This attribute is held also by the "seven-hued lilies of Te-net-sa-li," already referred to, and by the flowers of the goddess Xochiquetzal in Mexico, the touch of which produced everlasting love. It may be worthy of notice that the mnededeskoo' is a trefoil plant. Many instances of its power over women are related as occurring recently, and for this and other reasons I am told the Micmacs strongly deprecate the knowledge and use of it. If the circumstances of these stories suggest some knowledge of hypnotism amongst them, I simply state the fact. Personally I have not yet seen any evidence of such power there. The rattlesnake which accompanies the plant brings it at once into touch with the mysteries in all parts of the globe. The same species is associated by the Micmacs with a dance which they used to perform only at night. This dance was mystical in a marked degree, and was connected with the Pleiades. 

Stansbury Hagar

1 Is it a mere verbal coincidence which connects this plant with the Piasa (pro- nounced piasaw), the winged serpent of Illinois described by McA

1 Hernandez, physician of Philip 

II., quoted by Brasseur, states that the Mexicans used an herb called ololiuhqui or serpent plant when they wished to consult with their gods. By means of it they were enabled to behold a thousand visions and the forms of hovering demon

 

Mariella- Khruangbin & Leon Bridges

 

Summer Artifacts

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Prairie Laurent

Adieu Laurent

Adieu, Laurent! Quelle nouvelle est ça?

Pâmé, tout déparler  

Adieu, Laurent! Quelle nouvelle est ça?

Pâmé, tout déparler   

                                

La femme assise dans la fenêtre après penser

Pâmé, tout déparler     

Assez jalouse elle peut pas dormir

Pâmé, tout déparler                           

J’ai pris une saucisse pour une serpent             

Pâmé, tout déparler                           

J’ai pris du coton pour de la neige             

Pâmé, tout déparler                         

J’ai pris du verglas pour du sel             

Pâmé, tout déparler                       

Sister Edith

Painted Ceramics Summer 2026

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La Serpente

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The First Arnaudville Table Française July 2006

This summer marks twenty years that I live in the Prairie des Femmes. In 2004 I began to come here and spend time as a camp and a wild place. « We’re going to the prairie » we’d say. 

 It was a dream place where a house was being raised. This house was a curiosity and then a wonder to me. No one had ever brought me to a new land and hand built me a home. The day before we married I found myself alone in the central room of the house. I sat on the fresh wooden floor with my back on the cypress tree pillar in the middle of the room and imagined the future that would pass in this room. This would be the room where I lived, celebrated every Christmas, conceived and raised children and this very blog.

 I moved here permanently on my wedding night, July 14, 2006. I remember the moon casting our enormous shadows on the wall as he carried me over the threshold through the French doors he’d kicked open. It was fine, the doors had holes for knobs. The next morning we had an open house party in our unfinished prairie cottage. My grandparents showed up earlier than anyone else the morning after my wedding night and made me scramble for my modesty. Everyone showed up later and were able to eat their own personal pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, the groom’s favorite. We drank and played music surrounded by family and flower arrangements from the wedding. 

 The next week was dream like. I hand-washed my wedding dress and dried it in the porch. We ate at Myran’s Maison de Manger. We went to Nunu’s first potluck. We lived and worked in our new house to make sure it had a front wall, doorknobs, hot water and reliable electricity, all of which we had moved in without. I was preparing to begin as the new French teacher at nearby Beau Chêne high school while my new husband was a Cajun musician. He left for tour after our marriage. I was brave about it, but at 25 I was alone for the first time in the Prairie des Femmes. The house was sparse. There was no internet in those days. I boiled water in a red kettle for my baths and used a fancy bath oil, Mary Black by Florence Gunnarson, because it was all the soap that I had. I was sure that I had moved to the far countryside and bid goodbye to the cultural scene around the Blue Moon Saloon in Lafayette but soon I realized that nearby Arnaudville was emerging as its own cultural bastion, mainly through NuNu’s cultural arts center with George Marks and his mother Rita. There were events there such as the community pot luck, bands like Joe Hall and the Louisiana Cane Cutters, and at the end of July, a new French Table headed by Arnaudville matriarch Mavis Arnaud Frugé. I wrote the information about the a French table on the back of a card and pinned it to our post. I looked at that card every day as a beacon, my only social outing while I was alone and first French event before I became the « Madame » of Beau Chêne. 

 I attended the table that day and made acquaintances and friendships that I hold still today. Madame Mavis served us beignets she hand fried on the steep edge of Bayou Têche. I have continued to attend her monthly French tables at Nunu’s. It was there and through the strong French that still exists in Arnaudville that I was able to integrate into this community. Last year i was asked to lead the Arnaudville French Table and today I find myself in the unique position to be leading it 20 years to the day that I first attended as a newlywed. I find myself no longer married, but still choosing to stay in this place and serve this community and to stay in this house on the prairie that was my refuge all those years ago. I raise three beautiful sons in the Prairie des Femmes and still serve my community as Madame as I teach French to the girls of the Sacred Heart of Grand Coteau, just west of the prairie.