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Watch: Nottoway Plantation fire unearths deep pain over enslavement of Africans
Watch: Nottoway Plantation fire unearths deep pain over enslavement of Africans

India Today

time20-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • India Today

Watch: Nottoway Plantation fire unearths deep pain over enslavement of Africans

A fire engulfed the historic Nottoway Plantation in White Castle, Louisiana on May 15, 2025, leaving behind only ashes and a storm of public reaction. The mansion, built in 1859 by sugar planter John Hampden Randolph with the forced labor of enslaved Africans, was the largest remaining antebellum house in the American South. At over 53,000 square feet, it had long stood as both a historic site and a lightning rod for controversy over its romanticized portrayal of slavery-era wealth.A devastating fire destroyed the Louisiana's historic Nottoway Resort, the largest antebellum mansion in the South, officials confirmed Friday.#Nottowayplantation #Louisiana Abhijit Pathak (@aajtakabhijit) May 16, 2025advertisementAs flames consumed the towering white pillars and grand verandas—once used to host weddings and luxury events—video footage quickly spread across social media and news platforms. For some, the destruction was a loss of architectural heritage. For many others, particularly Black Americans, it represented long-overdue justice and a symbolic end to a legacy of and celebratory posts flooded the internet. One clip of the fire set to Usher's 'Let It Burn' went viral, while others added ASMR-style sound design to the crackling wood. In a widely shared post, historian Mia Crawford-Johnson shared a grinning selfie from across the river, writing, 'Went and watched Nottoway Plantation burn to the ground!'While fire officials confirmed the blaze was likely caused by an electrical fault and found no signs of arson, the emotional impact ignited intense debate. advertisementPreservationists mourned the loss, citing the skill of the enslaved craftspeople whose work had been erased in the fire. But critics pointed to how the plantation had for years downplayed its brutal origins, often omitting or sugarcoating the experiences of those who were enslaved Andrea Livesey, a historian who visited Nottoway in 2019, noted that the site's museum offered just a single placard on slavery, one that disturbingly claimed enslaved people were 'treated well for the time.' As of this writing, the plantation's official website makes no mention of either its enslaved history or the fire that destroyed many, the fall of Nottoway was more than the loss of a building — it was a inputs from Associated Press

We Hear You, Ancestors: Fire Decimates Nottoway Plantation In Louisiana
We Hear You, Ancestors: Fire Decimates Nottoway Plantation In Louisiana

Black America Web

time19-05-2025

  • General
  • Black America Web

We Hear You, Ancestors: Fire Decimates Nottoway Plantation In Louisiana

Source: Three Lions / Getty On Thursday, flames engulfed the Nottoway Plantation in Iberville Parish, Louisiana—one of the largest remaining antebellum mansions in the South. The fire raged for hours, ultimately reducing the 165-year-old structure to ashes. And while local officials mourn what they describe as a 'cornerstone of our tourism economy,' many of us—especially those descended from the enslaved—felt something else entirely: release. The ancestors are speaking. Can you hear them? To be clear, no one celebrates destruction for destruction's sake. But what burned that day wasn't just timber and brick. It was the rotted heart of a narrative that has too often romanticized the horrors of slavery and the brutal systems that upheld it. Let's be honest: plantations are crime scenes. Period. Nottoway, with its opulent architecture and manicured grounds, stood as a monument to wealth built on human suffering. Constructed in 1859 by John Hampden Randolph, the plantation was home to 155 enslaved Black people. Their labor, their pain, their stolen lives—this is the untold story behind every chandelier and Corinthian column. So when I see headlines describing the mansion as a 'symbol of the grandeur and the deep complexities of our region's past,' I can't help but ask: for whom? Because for descendants of the enslaved, grandeur is not what comes to mind when we hear 'plantation.' We don't see elegant ballrooms or bridal photo ops. We see sweat and scars. We hear the crack of whips. We feel the weight of our ancestors' chains. That's the real legacy of Nottoway—and of every plantation that still stands in the American South. The fire that reduced Nottoway to rubble has been called a tragedy by some, but it may be closer to a reckoning. As crews battled flames that started in the attic and spread throughout the four-story structure, we were reminded of what still smolders under the surface of this country: a refusal to fully reckon with our past. To mourn the loss of a plantation as if it were a sacred relic is to ignore the truth of what it represents. It's important to note that Nottoway wasn't just a historic home. In recent years, it had become a luxury resort, a wedding venue, and a so-called 'educational site.' But let's be real—what kind of education sanitizes the blood-soaked ground it stands on? How many of those destination weddings ever acknowledged that vows were being exchanged where children were torn from their mothers, where people were sold like livestock? This isn't history. It's historical revisionism with a fresh coat of white paint and a gift shop. We hear a lot about 'preserving heritage' and 'respecting history' when it comes to places like Nottoway. But what's being preserved? Whose heritage is being honored? Because if we're not honoring the memory of the enslaved—if we're not telling their stories—then all we're doing is glamorizing atrocity. And let me be crystal clear: to romanticize the antebellum South is to be completely absent of the pain it inflicted on millions of Black bodies. It is to choose nostalgia over justice. It is to drape horror in Spanish moss and call it culture. In a Facebook post, Iberville Parish President Chris Daigle wrote, 'While its early history is undeniably tied to a time of great injustice, over the last several decades it evolved into a place of reflection, education, and dialogue.' Respectfully, reflection without truth is denial. Dialogue without accountability is noise. We don't need more places that 'evolve.' We need places that acknowledge. That name the horror for what it was. That center the voices of the descendants, not just the dollars of the tourists. Because the truth is, Nottoway never belonged to Louisiana's tourism economy. It belonged to the people who built it with their bare hands. The people who suffered there. The people who never got to leave. So no, I don't mourn the loss of a plantation. I mourn the lives that were lost in bondage. I mourn the continued erasure of their humanity in service of southern gentility and mint julep mythology. As the ashes settle along the Mississippi River, let us not be so quick to rebuild what was never ours to begin with. Let us sit in this moment. Let us listen to what the ancestors are saying. Because sometimes, the most sacred act is letting something burn. Burn, baby, burn. Not out of vengeance. But out of truth. Out of liberation. Out of the need to finally, fully, bury the lie that plantations were anything less than sites of American terror. We hear you, ancestors. Loud and clear. SEE ALSO: The Tragic Case of Rodney Hinton Jr. And The Trauma Of Black Grief In America Adriana Smith: Pregnant Brain-Dead Woman To Remain Alive To Give Birth SEE ALSO We Hear You, Ancestors: Fire Decimates Nottoway Plantation In Louisiana was originally published on Black America Web Featured Video CLOSE

America's largest remaining antebellum mansion burns down in devastating fire
America's largest remaining antebellum mansion burns down in devastating fire

Fox News

time17-05-2025

  • General
  • Fox News

America's largest remaining antebellum mansion burns down in devastating fire

Historic Nottoway Plantation, the largest antebellum mansion in the U.S., burned to the ground this week after a fire broke out on Thursday. There have been no reports of injuries or deaths connected to the fire. Fire crews worked to extinguish the flames with water reportedly being poured onto the rubble as long as 18 hours after the fire started, according to Fox 8. As of Saturday, the cause of the fire was still under investigation. "Some staff members stated they had gone into the museum and there was smoke. When they returned, the whole room was in flames," Iberville Parish President Chris Daigle told Fox 8, adding that it was "a total loss." Daigle noted in a post on the Iberville Parish Government's Facebook page that "The loss of Nottoway is not just a loss for Iberville Parish, but for the entire state of Louisiana. It was a cornerstone of our tourism economy and a site of national significance." The 64-room mansion was built by John Hampden Randolph in the late 1850s, according to multiple sources. It sat on more than 53,000 square feet and — in addition to the dozens of rooms — it contained 365 doors and windows and 22 white columns, Fox 8 reported. The property overlooked the Mississippi River. Randolph first arrived in Louisiana in 1841 and began by planting cotton, but ultimately shifted to sugar cane, according to the LSU Scholarly Repository. The scholarly repository article also notes that the mansion was named "Nottoway" after the county in Virginia where his ancestors lived. U.S. Department of the Interior records cited by Axios show that Randolph owned 155 slaves and 6,200 acres of land by 1860. In addition to the luxurious mansion, the property also featured several trees that are over 100 years old, several of which are more than 120 years old, according to Nottoway Plantation's website. In modern times, the mansion and the surrounding property functioned as a museum, resort and wedding venue. Nottoway Plantation's website states that it sat on 31 acres, which included 40 overnight rooms, a bar, a restaurant, event space, a pool, tennis courts and more. "While its early history is undeniably tied to a time of great injustice, over the last several decades it evolved into a place of reflection, education, and dialogue," Daigle wrote in the Facebook post. "Since the 1980s, it has welcomed visitors from around the world who came to appreciate its architecture and confront the legacies of its era. It stood as both a cautionary monument and a testament to the importance of preserving history — even the painful parts — so that future generations can learn and grow from it."

South's Biggest Antebellum Mansion Mysteriously Burns to Ground
South's Biggest Antebellum Mansion Mysteriously Burns to Ground

Yahoo

time16-05-2025

  • General
  • Yahoo

South's Biggest Antebellum Mansion Mysteriously Burns to Ground

The South's biggest surviving antebellum mansion was reduced to rubble by a massive fire which was still under investigation Friday. The Nottaway Plantation in White Castle, Louisiana, started burning around 2am on Thursday morning and was completely destroyed within hours despite the efforts of 40 firefighters. At 53,000 square feet it had been almost as big as the historic core of the White House and was used as an events venue. But the destruction of a mansion built in 1859 by a man who enslaved hundreds and made himself one of the richest men in the pre-Civil War south also sparked a heated debate online. The house was completed in 1859 for John Hampden Randolph, a Virginia-born man who had moved to Louisiana to profit from sugar grown by enslaved people. The business proved to be lucrative, and in 1855 he purchased over 1,000 acres of land on the Mississippi River to build 'Nottoway,' named for the Virginia county where he was born. The manor was built by 150 enslaved people, who baked each brick by hand and slept in slave quarters on the property and completed in 1859. They build a ballroom with 15-foot mirrors—and lived in squalor themselves. When the Civil War began, Hampden chose to financially back the Confederacy. All three of his sons fought for the Confederate Army, with his oldest son dying at Vicksburg in 1863. As Confederate defeat loomed, Hampden forced his slaves to move to Texas to avoid emancipation and keep making him money. When he returned after the Confederate surrender, 53 of them remained as low-paid laborers. After passing through a series of owners, the house and a surrounding 1,000 acres of the original larger plantation had become a resort and events venue and in 1980 it was put on the National Register of Historic Places. But the fire divided opinion—inevitably given its tarnished past. The president of Iberville Parish, where the home was located, posted a statement on the Facebook page saying the home was a 'a symbol of both the grandeur and the deep complexities of our region's past.' 'While its early history is undeniably tied to a time of great injustice, over the last several decades it evolved into a place of reflection, education, and dialogue,' said Chris Daigle. Louisiana Lieutenant Governor Billy Nungesser, a Republican, called the fire a 'gut punch.' 'Today my beloved Nottoway burned,' said Nicholas Schabert, who got engaged on the property and posted a tribute to the home on Facebook. 'To say I'm upset is an understatement.' Others argued that Nottoway left a dark stain on the history of Louisiana. 'Let's be real—Nottoway wasn't just some 'pretty old building,'' said Kenny Pahina. 'It was a plantation built off the backs of over 150 enslaved Black people who were owned, whipped, starved, raped, and worked to death so one family could live in luxury.' Pahina, who originally posted that he had 'no sympathy' for the property, said he 'refused to mourn a moment to human suffering.' 'This wasn't a fairy tale. The sugar industry was one of the most violent and deadly—people lost limbs, collapsed in the fields from exhaustion, or died slowly from infections while being treated like livestock," he added. 'Misery sank into those walls and floors,' agreed Erik Harry. 'This is the way it gets cleansed.' There are 375 other plantation sites, both publicly and privately owned, that are open to the public in 19 states. Some say that tourists that visit the sites for weddings, leisure, or parties turn it into 'Disneyland for adults' and sugarcoat the location's brutal past. One critic said: 'The rest of them need to burn down.'

Nation's largest remaining antebellum plantation burns to the ground
Nation's largest remaining antebellum plantation burns to the ground

Axios

time16-05-2025

  • General
  • Axios

Nation's largest remaining antebellum plantation burns to the ground

Nottoway Plantation burned to the ground this week after a fire broke out Thursday, authorities say. Why it matters: The plantation was the largest antebellum mansion remaining in the South, making it an important but complicated connection to the nation's history of enslavement. The latest: The fire's cause is still under investigation, Fox 8 reports, but the building is " a total loss," says Iberville Parish President Chris Daigle. Zoom in: The 64-room mansion was built by John Hampden Randolph in the 1850s. The home was located on the edge of the Mississippi River in Iberville Parish, south of Baton Rouge. In recent years, it had rebranded as Nottoway Resort and served as an event space, offering tours and dining. Between the lines: Randolph was already successful in the cotton business when he decided to expand into sugar production with the development of the plantation at Nottoway, according to 64 Parishes. His success came on the backs of the enslaved people he owned — 155 of them in 1860, records show. Public reaction to Nottoway's destruction has been mixed. Its "early history is undeniably tied to a time of great injustice, over the last several decades it evolved into a place of reflection, education, and dialogue," Daigle wrote. "The loss of Nottoway is not just a loss for Iberville Parish, but for the entire state of Louisiana. It was a cornerstone of our tourism economy and a site of national significance." Lauren Marque Sanders, who said on Facebook that she'd worked at the property for 23 years, called it "beyond sad." "I knew this house like the back of my hand. I'm at loss for words," she wrote. Sharing a video of the building while still aflame, Brad Gordon wrote, "If you don't understand why Black Americans are celebrating the symbolic dismantling of this monument to bondage and generational oppression—well, today, we simply don't care."

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