Some believe plantation weddings are relics of the past, yet they remain relatively common for white couples in the South. In 2019, The Knot, a wedding planning website, vowed to review and, in some cases, change the language used to promote these locations. Many felt this shift signified the sun setting on a racist tradition. However, the company hesitated to remove these venues due to their popularity. Years later, plantation wedding venues are still listed on their platform. In Louisiana, the Oak Alley Plantation holds a rating of 4.6 stars, the Forrest Grove Plantation has a rating of 4.8 stars, and the Tchoupitoulas Plantation at Cedar Grove boasts a 5-star rating based on customer reviews. Despite the praise the wedding industry received from activists a few years ago, plantation weddings remain highly favored. Why are some couples drawn to these venues like moths to a flame?
During the Antebellum era, plantation weddings became symbols of wealth and social power. To understand this phenomenon, consider the wealth amassed through slavery in the region. John Bardes, assistant history professor at Louisiana State University, noted in 64 Parishes that “by 1860, Louisiana produced about one-sixth of all the cotton and virtually all the sugar grown in the United States. Louisiana’s more than 22,000 slaveholders were among the wealthiest in the nation. Overall, the state boasted the second-highest per-capita wealth in the nation, after Mississippi. Sugar and cotton — and the slave labor used to produce them — defined Louisiana’s economy, politics, and social structure.” In this context, the plantation wedding offered visitors a glimpse into the lives of some of the nation’s wealthiest citizens and their progeny.
When a wealthy white couple decided to tie the knot at a plantation, local newspapers and bridal magazines typically provided details about these “elaborate affairs.” The News-Examiner noted that plantation weddings in Louisiana involved placing orders from New Orleans to be shipped by boat. Cakes and other pastries would be sent the same day. Often, “the bride’s father chartered a steamboat to take the guests out to the plantation.” This scenario may sound romantic for a couple, surrounded by family and friends, traveling along the bayou and witnessing the natural splendor of the lower parishes. But that fantasy comes crashing down when we consider that plantation life was maintained through the enslavement of Black people. The landscape and architecture, beautiful as they may be, are inseparable from the legacy that America has yet to reckon with in earnest. Some may overlook the history of plantations; others may be ill-informed and lured into booking these venues because of the flowery language used in advertisements. But some couples want to get married on a plantation because of racist attitudes.
Plantation weddings have become an enduring symbol of the Lost Cause movement, a visual callback to a period associated with white southern comfort and power. Those who endorse this worldview attempt to minimize the role of slavery in the conflict between the North and the South. One example is the United Daughters of the Confederacy, an organization comprised of women descendants of Confederate veterans. They have promoted a whitewashed history, including a minimization of the role of slavery. To understand the lasting popularity of these plantation weddings, we must not overlook their appeal to southern white women. A 1988 Town Talk article stated that Southern Bride Magazine caters to “women of Dixie.”
Though more subtle language is now employed, their write-ups expose the ongoing trend of whitewashing. When describing a ceremony at Boone Hall Plantation in South Carolina, editors wrote a vivid portrayal of “rows of live oak trees and age-old Spanish moss. The bride and groom’s elegant apparel perfectly matched the timeless backdrop and portrayed the epitome of Southern charm.” This was an effort to present plantation weddings as appealing and even idyllic. White southerners often claim their affinity for Confederate flags, statues, and plantation weddings reflects their heritage rather than prejudice. Yet, sympathizing with the Lost Cause has racist implications as it seeks to glorify the group despite its connection to race-based slavery.
For enslaved people, the conditions on plantations were nightmarish. Consider the narrative of Mary Reynolds, a woman enslaved by the Kilpatrick family in Black River, Louisiana. She described slavery as “the worst days” and noted that those working could not “stop in the fields” even after hearing others yelling due to the physical torture they faced. Enslaved people, she shared, were provided barely enough food and water to drink, often of questionable quality. White planters expected young children and even pregnant women to labor long hours in brutal weather, and those who resisted faced brutality. Romanticizing these historical sites overlooks the harsh reality faced by the enslaved people who built these structures and cultivated the crops that made these plantations immensely wealthy. In 2020, Aneesa Glines, a North Carolina wedding planner, noted that while some local wedding sites have recently dropped the word “plantation” from their title, “there is more to be done than simply changing the name.” Some venues use alternate phrases such as “traditional southern wedding,” “antebellum wedding,” or “historic estate wedding” instead of plantation to market plantation weddings to a more socially conscious clientele.
While some plantations turned into museums, such as the Whitney Plantation, which features exhibits that shed light on enslaved people’s experiences, many in the South continue to promote plantation weddings and host tours focusing on w hite enslavers’ experiences. The sales manager for The Oak Alley Plantation in St. James Parish describes the “plantation wedding venue” as a pristine choice for couples searching for a location to tie the Knot. “Love should be celebrated in the most enchanting setting,” they added to emphasize the natural landscape and distract from the connection to slavery. In 2017, Margaret Biser wrote a Vox article sharing their experience leading tours on plantations. Customers would often express frustration with the emphasis on the history of slavery. One man said, “Listen, I just wanted to say that dragging all this slavery stuff up again is bringing down America.” Their comment implies that peaceful coexistence depends upon the dominance of whitewashed narratives. Rather than including diverse narratives, they prefer excluding those that appear unflattering to White Americans.
The Trump Administration recently cut two federal grants “for Black history and culture awarded to the Whitney plantation,” the museum that focuses on the experiences of enslaved people, according to Adria R. Walker’s reporting in The Guardian. This policy decision highlights an irony, that while plantation wedding venues continue to profit from these historical estates, those trying to engage with the public honestly about the legacy of chattel slavery face backlash. This is consistent with efforts to diminish the presence of black history in public K-12 schools, colleges, and libraries using anti-DEI measures.
Plantation weddings remain popular for White couples because our nation has yet to reckon with its legacy of slavery. As a result, these historical sites are often trivialized, rather than memorialized in the way Auschwitz and other concentration camps are in Poland. In doing so, the experiences of enslaved Black people are pushed into the margins of society. And those who attempt to honor that history face backlash for shedding light on this portion of American history. While the Knot and other companies claimed they would abandon this racist tradition, the romanticization of plantation weddings persists, enabled by their platforms. Paired with censorship efforts, plantation weddings remain popular in the 21st century. Such framing to promote these venues often diverts attention from the cruelty of slavery by fixating on breathtaking landscapes and architecture.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of Dr. Allison Gaines' work on Medium.