Jim Bradshaw: Louisiana had treasure long before the lottery

In the days before Powerball and other Win Big schemes began to inspire visions of instant wealth, the best way to get rich quick in Louisiana was to find buried treasure. In my experience it has probably been the only way — aside from finding oil on the old family farm. Both treasure and oil have eluded me so far, or great wealth from any source. I bought a ticket for the recent $1 billion jackpot, but somebody in California won that. I can’t get too upset. They probably need it, with the cost of living out there.
I did come close, sort of, years ago when the Louisiana lottery was new. A guy who worked across the street won a million dollars. When I complained that he’d greatly diminished my chances — “What are the odds of guys working across the street from each other winning?” — he smugly told me that it was my problem, not his. That’s when I started thinking about buried treasure again.
Every old Louisiana family has a treasure story: Beneath this huge oak … on such-and-such a cheniere … along the bank of this bayou … near the old plantation house … there was an old map. Many stories supposedly came from deathbed tales: An old relative whispered a long-kept secret heard from the deathbed of another, who heard it from the nephew of one of Jean Lafitte’s men.
Most of the stories were nothing more than wishful thinking, or just plain fiction. The tale persisted for many years that a Texan named Wooten found a stash of Lafitte’s booty in 1914. But Wooten’s grandson said his grandfather and some friends made up the whole thing. They repented and tried to tell everyone the story was a hoax, but nobody believed them. People thought they were just trying to protect their riches.
There is another story of how Lafitte captured six wagon-loads of silver from a Spanish ship and was trying to sneak it inland when the law caught up with him near Hendrick’s Lake in east Texas. As that story goes, Lafitte’s men drove the wagons to the rim of a steep bank and rolled them into the water. That inspired an attempt in the late 1800s to drain the lake and uncover the treasure, but the lake filled again as fast as the treasure hunters could empty it. The silver — if it was ever there — has never been found.
Some people believe pirate treasure is still buried on the Sabine River bank near Vinton, even though everybody knew about it. For years, a billboard just on the Louisiana side of the bridge on old Highway 90, proclaimed that “Lafitte Buried His Treasure Here Near 40 Gum Trees.” Unfortunately, the gum trees are long gone. Not even a stump stands as a clue.
It sometimes seems like there are more places in South Louisiana rumored to hide Lafitte’s gold than there are without a treasure tale. His horde might be on Kelso’s Island in Calcasieu Lake, or buried on Pecan Island, or Grand Terre, or Grand Isle, or along Contraband Bayou in Lake Charles (so named because a few doubloons once washed out of its banks), or on Jefferson Island (where a worker once dug up a handful of Mexican coins), or on the grounds of any of the plantations Lafitte is said to have visited.
Most of those old plantations had stories of their own about gold coins or old silver or priceless jewels the family buried to save them from Civil War looters. Some of those tales probably are more authentic than the ones about pirate treasure, but also as elusive. In my family the story is that $30,000 worth of gold coins were buried somewhere near an ancestral home. We’ve dug in all the likely places, and a few unlikely ones. We are still people of only modest means.
Some of the old folklore might help if you’re inclined to go treasure hunting. The best time to dig for treasure is between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. on the second day of the full moon, but you won’t find anything if you talk, spit, curse, or swear while you’re digging. If you dream about a beam of light focused on a certain place, treasure is buried there, unless the light is bobbing up and down in the swamp. That’s just the mischief of a feux-follet.
Also, the search will be a lot easier if your ancestors remembered to bury a rooster’s head with the family jewels. Everybody knows that the rooster will crow if the rightful owner comes near.
You can contact Jim Bradshaw at jimbradshaw4321@gmail.com or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.