“A theater in Lafayette, a suburb of New Orleans, was opened under the management of Mr. Oliver this season. The prevalence of the cholera blighted any prospects there might have been of success. This company was composed principally of new beginners and their salaries were paid in various commodities, such as the manager stipulated to receive of the citizens for tickets. It was a stipulation in each article of agreement (so the manager told me) that every actor should take a portion of his salary in coffins, should he need any!—that is to say, if he should die during the season, he should be buried on account; the style of coffin, number of carriages, and so forth, to be regulated by the amount due at the time of his demise.
“I had a fellow feeling for this manager, and when he asked me to act one night for him, assuring me that I could fill the house at double prices, I could not refuse him, though I doubted very much whether my acting would add anything to his receipts. Manager Oliver was right, however, and I had the pleasure of playing the Mock Duke in the Honey Moon to one of the most crowded audiences I have ever acted to. Of course, under the circumstances, I would take no pay for my night’s services, though the grateful manager offered me a clear half of the receipts.
“The season failed totally, the manager left for parts unknown and next season, after a vain attempt by one Hickey to resuscitate the drama by presenting some horrible representations (or misrepresentations rather) of Yankee character, the theater took fire one day and was burned to the ground. Lafayette is too near New Orleans to give an efficient support to the theater.”
The earliest homes in Lafayette naturally were built on streets closest to the river. As early as 1842, the crusty editor of the Daily Picayune in New Orleans was rhapsodic over the beautiful cottages in Lafayette City with their handsome architecture and lovely gardens. The Lafayette Spectator, by 1850, was equally enthusiastic. “The City of Lafayette”, wrote John McMillin, “at no previous time could boast of so many valuable buildings in progress as at present. Styles, finishes and materials being so vastly improved.” The cottages were becoming mansions at this point, getting away from the flatboat gunwales.
“Such is the demand for lots,” continued McMillin, “in the back part of the city that they are selling for nearly double the price of those three or four squares from the river. Lots on or near the railroad (St. Charles Avenue) sell for $1,800. Those on Jersey (Annunciation), $800 or $900. Cheapest lots are on Jersey and Laurel Streets.
“To become independent here,” he advised, “it is necessary to purchase a few lots only, at a low rate and keep them a few years when the fortunate owner finds himself well off in the world. We believe for the next five years real estate will increase 20% per year.”
In 1852, Lafayette City counted a population of 12,651 with 1,539 slaves added. This was short of the anticipated total because the city had just come through a particularly devastating yellow fever epidemic in which some 2,000 souls had been lost. One journalist felt that the census takers had not been thorough in their tally.
The city burial grounds, the Lafayette Cemetery on Washington between Coliseum and Prytania, laid out in 1833, was hard put to find space for the bodies. Apparently most of the deceased were part of the huge drifting population, newly arrived immigrants, the flatboatmen and others, for only 389 citizens of Lafayette could be accounted for by the census taker among those buried in the cemetery.
The prospects of the Garden District of Lafayette were also favorably mentioned by the editor of the Spectator, a Whig newspaper published there during the mid-century era:
“It is already the seat of fashionable residences. The property in the rear of the district has been greatly sought by merchants and bankers and professional men. Little or none has been held for speculation. It will maintain its value.”