“THE GOSSELIN TRACT

The next article is not for the squeamish! But, it gives a good insight into the grizzly goings on from Algiers past...the “Good Old Days”.

The tract of land between what is known as Verret and Vallette Streets, was formerly the plantation of Mrs. Bazille GOSSELIN. The family residence was about the site of where Gastelda FELIX now dispenses soda and fruit. In 1834 Mrs. GOSSELIN sold the portion between Olivier and Verret Streets to Jean B. OLIVIER. Some time after the balance of the tract she sold to a company consisting of J. B. BALLISTER, R. B. SUMNER and Bernard O’FALLON, the ground conveyed consisting of all the portion between Olivier and Vallette Streets. O’FALLON subsequently sold to John HUGHES for HUGHES, VALLETTE & Co., who caused the same to be surveyed and divided into town lots. The tract is now nearly all built on and considered the most valuable in our town for its central location and high ground.

Within this tract during the last half century have been committed murders most foul, suicides and deaths by accidents, enough to delight the hearts of the authors of “Beadles” ten cent novels, the “Boys own Pirates”, a Sylvanius COBBS, “Red Avenger of the Plain”. Other portions of our town no doubt, have stories equally as horrible as is proposed here to relate, and which in due time will also receive attention. One installment at present must suffice for to each.

In 1836 a saw mill stood where the VALLETTE Dry Dock office now is located (Vallette, corner of Patterson), Edward JANIN was the proprietor, the chains and log trucks extended out to Patterson Street. Mr. JANIN was in the habit of remaining on the log in the river and giving the signal to those at the windlass on shore to hoist away on the cradle. One fair day in April while thus engaged the log was chained and started, after a few minutes Mr. JANIN was missed, search was made and the unfortunate man was found crushed to death within the chain and the log where he had fallen unperceived by those on shore, after the signal had been given.

During the year 1840 a duel was fought on Olivier Street, near the present German church, between two cousins it is said. The sharp rapier pierced the heart of one, and while his lifeblood stained the surrounding sod his opponent fled the scene. After years of remorse he entered a monastery among the Alpine Hills, and devoted the balance of his life to scourges, prayers, sackcloth and ashes as a penance for the soul he untimely sent before his maker.

A score of years goes by, a brick edifice is built opposite the spot where JANIN met his unfortunate fate. It was only occupied a few months, when during the absence of the proprietor and his family across the lake, a French physician who had lately left his native land to seek his fortune in the new world, one Dr. KAUFFMAN, “shuffled off this mortal coil” by firing a bullet thro’ his heart and falling lifeless to the floor. He had been a passenger across the ocean on the “Arago”, the first iron steamer of immense size that crossed the sea. The doctor was a highly educated gentleman and the failure to get successful practice at once in our midst so preyed upon him that it ended as I have stated, by taking his own life.

The last sad scene enacted in the same house, the identical same room, is but too vivid to the recollection of your readers - over the horror - let us draw the veil of oblivion - surely it originated in a mind diseased, not responsible.

Let us cross the street - go back to the wartimes of 1864 - when our town was crowded with soldiers. Joseph REY was the proprietor of a butcher shop in that vicinity. One October morning on opening his door he discovered a young soldier on the banquette in front of his place with a bayonet through his heart. The weapon had transfixed his body and embedded itself between the bricks beneath. His murderer was never discovered. Hardly a month had elapsed when Mary CARE, a handsome quadroon woman, the mistress of an employee on the Opelousas Railroad, residing in the same block back of Mr. GERARD’s blacksmith shop, was discovered dying in her bedroom with two fearful cuts. It is still a question whether her lover stabbed her in a fit of jealousy or not? Shortly afterwards she expired, no knife was found, but she to the last refused to tell who had so cruelly wronged her. It is believed, however, that she was killed by her lover.