marie annette
JOURNAL ENTRY #274
VOLUME #40
The Teatre De Roquefort is no more! It has burned in the night! I know that it was Marie De La Sevre who started the fire, but I cannot prove it to the constable. Why, Marie? What did I do to you that made you want to take everything from me? You have stolen my pride! You have stolen my livelihood! What will you attempt to steal next from me, Marie?!? Why do you torment me?!?
JOURNAL ENTRY #300
VOLUME #40
I have just been visited by Abegunde Laveau, a cousin to Marie LaVeau. He has told me, out of respect, that Marie Annette and her Mother are dead. He spared me the details of their passing, but assured me that whatever tragedy that had visited me by any member of the house of De La Sevre has been cleaned away. Madame LaVeau asks for nothing in return but my appreciation. I told him it shall be hers, although my heart tells me that I have only traded the companionship of one devil for another. It is my hope that Madame LaVeau should never call upon me for favor, as I feel that God would weep should I acquiesce.
JOURNAL ENTRY #142
VOLUME #47
I have just left the side of my friend, Judge Canonge. I heard his heart shatter as the courier brought him the news at the discovery of Angelique, his twelve year old daughter. Like the others, she had been found hanging from the tall willow tree near Honey Island. Thick vines had been driven through her wrists and knees. The monster had removed her eyelids and positioned her in a profane display. What creature has the devil unleashed upon this world?!?
I had discovered, while she was alive, the extent of her evil, but could not imagine the vile acts she would commit even in death! Marie Annette De La Sevre...even saying her name tastes like acid on my tongue. Should God weep, and condemn me to the fires for seeking the guidance of Madame LaVeau, his tears shall dry as I drag Marie Annette to hell with me.
And so, my friend, I leave you. Should I return, mayest thou always believe in God’s eternal mercy.
SCRAWLED ON THE BACK PAGE OF THE FINAL JOURNAL
seigneur céleste et sauveur
pardonner mes péchés
et miséricorde
car je ne suis pas
Name: Marie Annette
Born: Sevres, France April 12th, 1815
Died: New Orleans, La. Oct. 19th, 1834
Marie Annette De La Sevres was born in Sevres, France on Oct. 19th, 1815 to a Rosalie De La Sevres, wife of Guy De La Sevres, one of Napoleon’s Majors, who had been exiled with Napoleon on the Isle of Elba at the time of conception. To avoid the scandal that would certainly surround the family De La Sevres, and to avoid the Prussian occupation of the town of Sevres, Rosalie and her daughter Marie were sent to New Orleans to live with Guy’s cousin Jean Blanque, who at the time was married to New Orleans’ most famous socialite, Delphine Blanque. .
Shortly after arriving in New Orleans, Rosalie found employment as an assistant to Charles Roquefort, a toymaker and puppeteer who had set up his shop in a small warehouse in the French Quarter. Rosalie discovered she was prodigious in the art of puppeteering, and soon found minor fame at Roquefort’s theatre on Esplanade Avenue. She would often keep Marie with her at the theatre where the girl learned how to craft her own puppets. Marie would secretly spend hour upon hour, crafting gruesome creations, conceptualizing her own Grand Guinol. performances. This continued until Roquefort agreed to allow Marie, at the age of sixteen, to present her own performance for the public. Neither he, nor Rosalie, could have imagined how horrifying and perverse a performance it was to be. The Archbishop, William DeGual, had been in attendance that evening, and had stood during the show and condemned the performance, as well as, "The demonic bastard who had conceived of such immoral filth."
Roquefort, in an effort to save his reputation, fired Rosalie, publicly decrying her fitness as a Mother, having raised a heretic, and allowing her to defile the resources of an upstanding, Christian member of the community. They were both shunned throughout the French Quarter, and retreated into Madame LaLaurie's newly built mansion on Royal Street. LaLaurie, reluctant to turn them away while wanting to also distance herself from her distant cousin's reputation, offered Rosalie employment as a housemaid. Rosalie and Marie were moved to a remote area of the mansion so that Rosalie would not often be seen...and Marie would not be seen at all.
However, only three years later, in 1834, Delphine LaLaurie had earned her own legendary shame when a kitchen fire led to one of the most horrific scenes in American history. The members of the fire brigade discovered an attic of horrors where slaves had been chained and tortured by LaLaurie, some stretched on a rack, their limbs pulled and torn from their sockets. It was later discovered that the fire had been started by a septuagenarian slave attempting to commit suicide after having been chained to the oven by her ankle. LaLaurie escaped New Orleans only moments before the local citizenry administered their own justice upon the now infamous Delphine LaLaurie.
Shortly after the mansion had been abandoned by the LaLaurie family, who had exiled themselves to France, another room was found in a remote area of the mansion, untouched by the fire. Within this room, a number of slave children had been suspended from the ceiling, heavy ropes had been sewn through their wrists, and knees, their bodies positioned in a macabre display. A small number of slave children had been left during the fire, each in a different state of transformation into a marionette. Many of them had cracked, worn china placed over their faces and welded to their flesh. To this day, thousands of tourists each year visit the LaLaurie mansion, and yet few of them ever discover the complete story of the LaLaurie legacy of horror.
While it was assumed that Rosalie and Marie had fled to France with the rest of their family, they actually remained in the ruins of the LaLaurie mansion for a brief period. The famed voodoo queen of New Orleans, Marie LaVeau, so incensed at the discoveries made at the LaLaurie mansion, issued her own investigation, and shortly discovered that the mansion was still hosting the remaining members of the family. Marie sent her cousin Abegunde, and his brother Oluwayne to fetch Marie and her Mother. They were brought before her. Rosalie threw herself at the mercy of the throne of the voodoo queen, asking that she be spared as she was unaware of Marie's twisted obsessions. She found no mercy from LaVeau, having been found guilty of not "ripping the devil child from her womb" and having giving birth to the daughter of Satan. Rosalie was murdered in front of Marie, who simply smiled sweetly at the site of her dying Mother.
Marie was then shackled, thick swamp vines sewn through her wrists and knees, a mask of cracked china was welded to her face. She was then made to "perform" for the guests of Marie LaVeau. During this performance, Marie collapsed to the floor, dying. As Marie breathed her last breath, LaVeau kneeled over her, cursing her to "live" long after death had carried her from this world. Marie's corpse was discarded, unceremoniously, into the bayou at Honey Island.
​
THE JOURNAL OF CHARLES ROQUEFORT
DISCOVERED UNDER THE ROOTS OF A WILLOW ON HONEY ISLAND
CHARLES ROQUEFORT, O.S.M.
ROQUEFORT’S THEATRE
400 ESPLANADE
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
JOURNAL ENTRY #47
VOLUME #22
Bonjour, mon vieil ami. Je sais, je sais, nous sommes maintenant americains. Et pour vous, je vais traailler sur mes competences en anglais au cas ou certains corps vous trouve un jour une centaine d’annees dans le futur. Hahaha.
Today I have won favor with the prestigious Blanque family, monsieur Blanque and his wife Delphine, by taking an apprentice, monsieur’s cousin Rosalie De La Sevre. I hope this will encourage them to patronize the theatre. If they come, then maybe others of their class will come. Nes Pas?
She is a beautiful young, lady with a beautiful infant daughter. I have arranged for the child, Marie Annette (how funny that she should come work for me and have a daughter named Marie Annette!), to stay in the workshop during Rosalie’s hours of working for me. Rosalie was a talented seamstress in France, and especially brilliant with the use of porcelain, a specialty of the Sevre region. She is worth having here, even if it means having to listen to a crying child from time to time. I hope she works out well. We shall see.
JOURNAL ENTRY #56
VOLUME #22
Rosalie is working out beautifully, thank the heavens. She is a master of her craft and has brought new life to my creations. She has taken what I imagined and made it real...sometimes I swear I can see the toys breathing as if alive. She will bring great success to my shop and my theatre one day. I promise you, mon vieil ami.
I was wrong about the infant child, though. She does not cry. She never cries. Sometimes I worry and pat her head to feel her warmth to relieve my fears for the child. The peace and quiet is good...but what an oddity to have such a silent baby.
I have warned Rosalie of my minou...my kitty, Andre. A cat will steal the breath of a baby, I know! But Andre is so sweet, and not much older than little Marie. I do not think he will do anything, but what is the harm in a friendly warning?
JOURNAL ENTRY #14
VOLUME #29
Rosalie assisted me in an actual performance today! I am so proud of her! She works harder than anyone I have ever known, and her craftsmanship has begun to rival my own. She has asked me to spare some scrap materials so that she can begin to teach Marie the trade as well! How productive we will soon be with two masters of the craft and an apprentice working in this shop! I have given Marie her own private work space...not more than a large closet for storage, but what more does a little girl need?!? I think I will stop in from time to time on the child, and see how she is progressing. Perhaps give her a tip or two. Threading the wrists and feet can be a bit taxing until you have learned to effectively find the center of the wrist, and knees, or the marionette will be wobbly and difficult to manipulate. How exciting!
Also, I have some sad news. Andre, my minou doux, mon ami et compagnon, was found dead today. Marie will be so upset! They were the best of friends! Maybe I will just tell her Andre ran away. Yes...that might be best for the poor girl.
JOURNAL ENTRY #154
VOLUME #33
Today I received a visit from Madame Delphine LaLaurie. She came, at first, to see if I had seen her dog, a handsome mastiff she had named Brutus. She said she had not seen him for the past two days. Then she told me that the carriage house had somehow caught fire, and she had thought that it may have scared Brutus away. Imagine a big dog like Brutus being scared of anything. I had to cough to hide my laughing at the image.
As she was about to leave, she stopped to ask me if I had noticed anything peculiar about Marie. I said that I had not. I said she was the perfect, little angel. And it is true! She does not speak often, and when she does her manners are tres admirable. She has not only taken to the craft of puppetry, and done quite well, but I told her that just last week, I found the girl twirling on the stage, dancing like a gazelle...such grace! I told Madame that every child should be like our own little Marie Annette.
Madame said she was glad to hear it, and she left after apologizing for the intrusion. I did not mind. She is a very kind lady, and interesting to speak with. I do feel sorry for her about the dog, Brutus. I hope Marie was not as attached to the dog as she was to my Andre those few years ago. She was inconsolable, the poor thing. She is so sensitive and caring, this Marie. She and her Mother are like my own children. I hate to see them upset.
JOURNAL ENTRY #155
VOLUME #33
Brutus is dead. He was found in the garden with a meat cleaver, from Madame’s own kitchen, buried in his chest. We must not allow Marie to know the truth! Such horrors! She has such a fondness for animals.
JOURNAL ENTRY #59
VOLUME #38
Today is the day I have dreamed of! I have told you about this day time after time! Marie asked me if she could present her own show! She said she has written it and choreographed it all by herself! She showed me the first scene which tells the story of the angel who visited Joseph of Arimathea. It is a beautiful tale. I told her I would be so proud to present this at my theatre! She has grown up so fast! It seems like yesterday that she and her Mother first came to me, and today she is prepared to show the world how truly talented she is! If I really were her Father, I could not be more proud of her than I am today!
JOURNAL ENTRY #100
VOLUME #38
SHAME!!! I am ASHAMED!!! I was a fool to believe that any person, even a child, could be that perfect! That innocent! No! Marie has taken me for a fool! My reputation is ruined! It has broken my heart to separate from Rosalie and Marie but how could they have taken me for a fool for so long?!? I think because I am a fool. I have denounced them to the Archbishop! I have sworn to shun them!
The girl, Marie, the daughter of Satan himself, showed her true colors tonight. There was no Joseph! There was no angel! The main character was a black demon covered in blood! Real animal blood! She had carved for him an enormous...bistouquette and when the monster attacked and raped a beggar woman puppet! The puppet was torn in half, blood spilling on to the stage. Then, the girl, speaking as the demon, screamed profanities that would have embarrassed even one of Lafitte’s men! Before the Archbishop stood and denounced this blasphemous display, she portrayed the demon as eating a child, starting from between the legs! More blood spilled to the stage as the Archbishop cried out! Marie spit at the Archbishop and cursed at him! The Archbishop in my theatre and she cursed at him! I stood as well and bellowed at Rosalie to take Marie away, never to return and the girl turned her venom on me, spitting at me, attacking me with flailing arms. Her mother dragged her away, out of the theatre,
and into the night. I apologized to my patrons and assured them this was not the show I was told would be performed tonight.
Tomorrow I will write to the Archbishop and beg his forgiveness. He is a wise man. I hope he will understand. But first, I will call for one of Madame Delphine’s slaves to collect these belongings. My heart is broken tonight. Not because of the spectacle caused by Marie and her grand guignol, but because the people I thought they were are dead to me. My daughters are dead and my heart has broken! Damn you, Marie De La Sevre! I hope to God you have not ruined me!