"Notes
from the Old Mint"
by Ann
Chandonnet, co-editor of “Write
Quick": War and a Woman’s Life in Letters, 1836-1867
In Write Quick, the book my cousin,
Roberta Pevear, of Bethel and I created, dozens of the letters
written by Henry Foster to his wife Eliza were penned in the
cramped attic of the New Orleans Mint. Henry wrote about his
uncomfortable bed on the rafters, and of once using a drum
head as a desk. The Mint had been under construction for many
years, but remained unfinished. Henry was able to get up onto the
roof and view the wharves along the Mississippi and the business of
cotton and other goods going on there. He waited for
ships arriving from New England, hoping they would bring mail from
Eliza in Massachusetts or from other members of his extended
family. Soldiers away from home "lived on mail," as his
brother-in-law once wrote.
For nearly two years, Henry was stationed in
New Orleans with the 26th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. His
duties were chiefly to guard Confederate prisoners. Occasionally,
his unit was sent to other places in Louisiana, and he wrote to
Eliza from those camps. But he kept returning to the Mint.
In the early 1860s, the Mint not only minted
money but also served as the Post Office for the city. The Post
Office closed at 5:00 p.m., a fact that Henry mentioned several times
in his correspondence.
Today there is a new Mint several blocks
away. The Old Mint, located near the popular French Market on the
waterfront, lost its copper roof during Hurricane Katrina (2006);
sheets of it flew far and wide. It took until November 12 of 2011
to refurbish the building. I had heard that the Old Mint opened
for business during the summer, so when I showed up on its doorstep on
November 13, I didn't realize how lucky I was. The Park Service
historian was very kind, listening to my story of Henry and his
letters. I wanted to see the view Henry had from the roof, but
that was not accessible. I also wanted to see the attic, but it
wasn't available to the public. However, the historian and her
fellows quickly realized how important it was for me to get a
glimpse of this area. They scouted up two sets of original
cast iron steps—closely resembling some of the famous iron
balconies of the city, and then allowed me a peek into the attic.
It had been transformed with batts of insulation and air ducts, but I
got the general idea of how low and dark it must have been when Henry
and his comrades lodged there. I was thrilled!
Descending to the ground floor (now a
mint museum) again, I noticed the enormous granite steps
of the staircases. I could imagine Henry running down the cast
iron steps and then down these granite steps—trying
to make the 5:00 p.m. deadline for another of his letters to Eliza.
The
impressive entrance portico on the Old Mint in New Orleans
Author
Ann Chandonnet at the Old Mint, November 13, 2011
(photos courtesy of Fernand Chandonnet)