In July 1947, the town of Gonzales lay quiet among sugarcane fields and swamp land in southern Louisiana. On the edge of town, along a sparsely settled road, stood a two-story white wooden house with a faded gray tin roof. It belonged to Barton Hamilton, 41, an accountant at a nearby lumber mill, his wife Christine, 38, who took in sewing for the shop at St. Theresa’s Catholic Church, and their 22-year-old son Charles, an engineering student in Baton Rouge.
The Hamiltons were regarded as a respectable, private family. Barton left for work each morning, Christine managed her sewing orders, and Charles focused on his studies. Even in early July, as the town prepared for Independence Day with flags and fresh paint on fences, their routine appeared unchanged. Red, white, and blue ribbons hung from their porch rail.
On a humid summer night, neighbors noticed the Hamilton house lights remained on later than usual. Some later recalled hearing a door open and slam shut, something heavy dropping to the floor, and then silence. A light rain began, masking any additional sound.
At dawn, the house was still. Curtains remained drawn. No smoke rose from the chimney. Barton’s black Ford sat in the garage. The milkman saw the previous day’s bottles untouched on the step.
By midmorning, Christine’s friend came to return fabric. She knocked repeatedly. No answer. She tried the kitchen door. Locked. Word spread quickly in the small town. Neighbors checked for Charles. No one had seen him in the yard. Relatives arrived before noon and tried every door. All were locked from the inside.
A neighbor went to the police station and reported that Barton and Christine Hamilton, and possibly their son, had vanished.
Sheriff Walter Duval drove to the house with a deputy that afternoon. The yard was wet from the night rain. Shallow shoe prints marked the soft dirt. The front door was shut. Curtains closed. He knocked. No response.
The deputy circled to the back. The kitchen door was locked from the inside. There were no pry marks. The front lock appeared undisturbed. In the garage, the Ford remained in place, a thin layer of dust on the hood, tires settled in familiar tracks.
Duval called out again.
Then, unexpectedly, the front door opened slightly. Charles Hamilton stepped out. His shirt was wrinkled, hair uncombed. He appeared exhausted.
Charles said his parents had left early the previous day to spend a few days at a cabin on Lake Morapas with two friends. He had stayed behind.
Duval asked for the friends’ names. Charles gave vague answers, describing them as acquaintances of his father from Baton Rouge, unable to provide addresses.
Inside, the living room was orderly. Two cold coffee cups sat on the dining table. A newspaper lay open. Nothing appeared disturbed. Windows were locked from inside. Beds were made. Christine’s jewelry box remained untouched in the bedroom. No suitcases were missing.
The house felt frozen mid-routine.
Duval questioned Charles about departure time, transportation, and who had driven. Charles responded evenly, without visible panic. According to him, his parents had left before he woke and had been picked up in their friends’ car.
Duval found no immediate signs of forced entry or struggle. Neighbors signed a statement confirming the house had been locked from the inside when first checked.
Back at headquarters, Duval began verifying Charles’s account. There were no cabin rentals under the Hamilton name near Lake Morapas. Local residents around the lake had seen no such couple. Livingston Parish authorities reported no traffic incidents or accidents. Barton had not shown up to work and had never missed a day without calling. Christine had sewing orders due and had mentioned no travel plans.
The Ford had not been moved. Its engine was cold.
Piece by piece, Charles’s story unraveled.
Duval revised the report, crossing out “Missing, cause unknown” and replacing it with “No evidence subjects left locality. Recommend expanded search phase.”
The next morning, a full-scale search began around Lake Morapas. Deputies, auxiliary police, hunters, and volunteers combed the swampy terrain. Boats dragged the dark water. Dogs worked along dry ridges.
No cabin was located. No tire tracks led to the shore. No belongings were found.
By afternoon of the second day, a search boat radioed about an object caught in reeds along the western shore.
It was a woman’s leather handbag, partially buried in wet grass. The brass clasp was rusted. Mud covered the exterior, but the interior remained dry.
Inside were business cards printed with Barton Hamilton’s name and address, a wallet, paper bills, a set of keys attached to a wooden tag engraved with the letter H, a handkerchief embroidered with the initials “CH,” and a lipstick tube.
The bag showed no signs of robbery.
Duval noted the mud pattern indicated it had likely been thrown from the western shore less than 24 hours earlier. No one had seen it during the previous day’s sweep.
He sealed it as evidence E4703 and reclassified the case from “Missing, cause unknown” to “Missing, suspected criminal activity.”
Charles was summoned again.
In a formal interview, he repeated that his parents had left early for the lake with friends. When asked about a note he claimed they had left on the kitchen table, he said he had thrown it away.
Duval underlined that answer in red ink.
No suitcases were missing from the closets. When asked about that discrepancy, Charles suggested they might have placed luggage directly into their friends’ car.
His answers became inconsistent. The color of the friends’ vehicle shifted from gray to blue. He could not describe the cabin’s location. He provided no names that could be verified.
Still, there were no bodies and no definitive proof of homicide.
Duval obtained a search warrant for the house.
Inside, investigators found the coffee table overturned, one leg cracked. Beneath it lay a palm-sized brownish stain on the rug. The rug was cut and preserved.
In the fireplace, light-colored ash remained, mixed with tiny metal fragments and bits of ceramic. The ash appeared recent. Samples were collected.
Porcelain shards were found in the bedroom. A scratch marked the back door frame.
All items were sealed and sent to the state forensic laboratory in Baton Rouge.
The results were inconclusive. The rug stain tested negative for blood. The ash contained high calcium levels, lime compounds, iron oxide, and brass alloy fragments, but technicians could not determine the source. The porcelain shards were ordinary. No direct evidence of violence was confirmed.
Under state regulations, without proof of injury or death, the case could not proceed as a homicide.
Duval logged the findings as inconclusive. In his duty log, he wrote: “No criminal evidence. File paused at monitoring level.”
Charles remained in the house for a few weeks before selling it and leaving Louisiana. He moved to Texas, later Oklahoma, working odd jobs. He never married and died in 1982 of lung disease.
The Hamilton case was assigned number 4717 and archived as an undetermined disappearance.
Sheriff Walter Duval retired in 1968. He referred to the Hamilton case as the only unfinished case of his career. He died in 1972.
The file remained in storage for decades.
In 2005, Louisiana established a cold case unit under the Criminal Investigation Bureau, tasked with reviewing unsolved cases from the previous century.
Among the transferred files was the thin Hamilton folder.
Inspector Megan Crowell, 39, was assigned to pre-1950 missing persons cases. She opened the Hamilton file and studied the black-and-white photographs: the overturned coffee table, the fireplace ash, the rug stain.
Two details caught her attention.
First, the scene diagram described the rug stain in the center of the room, nearly 2 m from the fireplace, but the photograph showed it against the wall beneath a window.
Second, a handwritten note on a lab report read: “Item destroyed. W. Duval.”
There was no documentation authorizing destruction.
Crowell underlined it in pencil.
She contacted the current owners of the former Hamilton house. The husband recalled that during chimney repairs in 1998, he had discovered a thick layer of strange white ash beneath the hearth tiles.
Crowell requested a warrant to excavate the fireplace.
Approval was granted.
In December 2005, a forensic team removed the hearth tiles. Beneath them lay a 3.5 cm layer of pale gray ash, unusually thick. Under magnification, technicians found shiny flecks and charred fibers.
At approximately 12 cm depth, they recovered a porous white fragment the size of half a coin.
Preliminary testing indicated human bone.
Four small bone fragments were collected in total, along with rusted metal and charred cloth fibers.
The samples were sent to the Louisiana State Forensic Science Center in New Orleans.
Under a scanning electron microscope, the fragments were confirmed as human bone. Chromosomal analysis indicated female. DNA extraction yielded a usable profile.
Crowell located a distant relative of Barton Hamilton in Florida who provided a blood sample.
The comparison showed a 99.84% match with the female Hamilton genetic line.
The bone fragments belonged to Christine Hamilton.
The Hamilton disappearance was officially reclassified as a homicide.
Crowell continued reviewing archived evidence.
In a storage cabinet labeled 3C, she found a sealed envelope marked H47 Exhibit 3. Inside was a rusted brass 12-gauge Remington shotgun shell.
The 1947 file contained no record of its recovery.
Ballistics analysis confirmed the shell had been fired. Barton Hamilton had registered a Remington 12-gauge shotgun in 1945. The firing pin impression was highly compatible with that model.
The shell bore dark brown organic traces consistent with human biological material and showed signs of exposure to temperatures exceeding 600°C.
Christine’s remains had been burned in the fireplace. A shotgun had been fired inside the house.
Crowell expanded the search to the backyard, where radar detected anomalies near the eastern fence.
Excavation uncovered a broken saw blade with dark stains, a deformed 12-gauge shotgun barrel section, and a charred kitchen knife.
Carbon residue tested positive for human protein and hemoglobin. DNA matched Christine Hamilton.
The tools bore signs of exposure to high heat.
The reconstruction suggested dismemberment and attempted destruction of the body on site.
Crowell then reviewed original administrative records signed by Sheriff Walter Duval.
Handwriting inconsistencies emerged. Some signatures attributed to Duval did not match authenticated samples.
Personnel records revealed that Duval’s son, Raymond Duval, had worked as a court clerk in the 1970s and had signed out the Hamilton file during the period it was transferred.
A search warrant was issued for Raymond Duval’s residence.
In a wooden box engraved “H47,” investigators found original crime scene photographs from different angles, handwritten notes by Walter Duval, and a leather-bound notebook.
One note read: “They must not know. Stay silent to protect the boy.”
Another listed: “1. Rug destroy. 2. Ashes – keep small portion. 3. Photos – only one copy.”
Handwriting analysis confirmed the notes were written by Walter Duval.
Raymond Duval was arrested for obstruction of justice and destruction of criminal evidence.
During interrogation, he admitted his father had believed Charles Hamilton committed the crime in panic and did not deserve to lose his life to prison. Walter Duval had removed and destroyed evidence to prevent prosecution. Raymond had kept the remaining documents.
In March 2006, Raymond Duval was tried in Baton Rouge. The prosecution presented DNA evidence, ballistics findings, recovered tools, and Walter Duval’s notes.
Witness Sarah LeBlanc, a former maid for the Hamiltons, had provided a recorded statement before her death. She recalled hearing a muffled gunshot the night of the disappearance and seeing Charles dragging a heavy object wrapped in cloth the following morning. She had reported this to Sheriff Duval in 1947 and was told to remain silent.
The jury found Raymond Duval guilty of obstruction of justice and destruction of criminal evidence. He was sentenced to 15 years in prison.
The court formally determined the Hamilton case to be a double homicide.
Primary suspect: Charles Hamilton, deceased 1982.
Barton and Christine Hamilton did not vanish. Barton was shot inside the house. Christine was killed and burned in the fireplace. Evidence was altered and destroyed by the investigating sheriff.
In July 2006, file CC4721 was placed in the Louisiana state crime archive center, marked “Hamilton case resolved after 58 years.”
The disappearance once logged as “undetermined” was recorded as double homicide in Louisiana legal history.
After the DNA results confirmed that the bone fragments recovered from the fireplace belonged to Christine Hamilton, the Hamilton file was formally reopened under a new designation: CC4721. What had long been classified as an undetermined disappearance was now a homicide investigation supported by physical evidence.
An emergency meeting was convened at cold case headquarters in Baton Rouge. Representatives from forensic services, technical divisions, and the state prosecutor’s office reviewed the excavation findings, DNA analysis, and newly recovered materials. The prosecutor concluded that the case had moved beyond suspicion. Christine Hamilton had died inside the house in 1947, and her body had been burned in the fireplace. The file was reclassified as suspected homicide, and investigators were authorized to expand the inquiry to determine whether additional victims were involved and whether evidence had been concealed.
Access to archived 1947 Ascension Parish records was granted. Original crime scene reports, lab findings, and Sheriff Walter Duval’s duty logs were digitized for comparison. Inspector Megan Crowell continued examining inconsistencies between written descriptions and preserved photographs.
The reopened investigation revealed that several original exhibits referenced in the 1947 file were no longer present in their original sealed containers. Among them were metal fragments described only as unidentified alloy. To locate them, Crowell searched Archive 3C, the physical evidence storage section for unresolved cases.
After hours of reviewing catalog entries, she located an envelope labeled H47, Exhibit 3. The faded wax seal bore the faint signature “W. Duval.” No description of this exhibit appeared in the original inventory.
The envelope was opened under supervision and video documentation. Inside was a rusted brass 12-gauge shotgun shell. The base was stamped Remington. The primer showed clear firing pin impressions. The rim displayed uneven black scorching, indicating exposure to high heat.
The 1947 case file contained no reference to the recovery of a shell casing.
The shell was sent to the Baton Rouge Ballistics Examination Lab. Under magnification, technicians confirmed it had been fired and retained identifiable firing pin marks. Crowell searched state firearm registries from 1945 and discovered that Barton Hamilton had registered a Remington Sportsman 12-gauge shotgun. The serial type matched the recovered shell.
The firearm had never been reported missing or confiscated.
Comparison testing showed high compatibility between the firing pin marks on the shell and manufacturer test samples for that model. Additionally, the shell casing bore dark brown organic fiber traces. Chemical analysis detected protein and hemoglobin consistent with human biological material, though insufficient for DNA profiling.
The lab report concluded that the shell had been fired and exposed to temperatures exceeding 600°C, suggesting discharge in an enclosed space near combustible material.
The emerging reconstruction indicated that a shotgun had been fired inside the Hamilton home in 1947. Christine’s remains were later burned in the fireplace. The sequence suggested lethal violence followed by attempts at concealment.
Crowell next examined original administrative documents bearing Sheriff Walter Duval’s signature. She noticed inconsistencies in handwriting. Some signatures were firm and right-slanted; others appeared shaky and left-leaning, lacking Duval’s characteristic flourish.
Most notable was the handwritten notation “Item destroyed. W. Duval” on the 1947 forensic report. Forensic document examination concluded there was a high probability that two different individuals had signed as W. Duval on certain documents.
Personnel records revealed that Walter Duval had a son, Raymond Duval, born in 1925, who worked as a local court clerk from the 1960s through the 1980s. From 1970 to 1975, Raymond had custody of parish judicial archives during the period when many unresolved case files, including the Hamilton file, were reorganized and transferred.
Archive logs showed that Raymond Duval signed out file 4717 Hamilton twice in 1971 and 1973, around the time of his father’s death and the transfer of the file to Baton Rouge.
Crowell reported the findings and sought authorization to investigate possible tampering or concealment of evidence. A search warrant was approved on December 2, 2005, authorizing inspection of Raymond Duval’s residence in Lafayette, Louisiana.
The warrant was executed the following morning. The two-story wooden house stood at the end of a narrow road, surrounded by oak trees. The forensic team divided into groups to search the property.
Upstairs, investigators located a metal filing cabinet labeled 1940–1950. In the bottom drawer, they found a small wooden box engraved H47. The lock was rusted. The box was opened on site in the presence of law enforcement and the prosecutor.
Inside was a gray cloth covering a stack of black-and-white photographs, loose handwritten pages, and a small leather-bound notebook.
The first photograph showed the Hamilton fireplace from a different angle than the image preserved in the 1947 file. The hearth was intact and covered in ash. In the lower corner, a blurred figure stood partially visible.
At the bottom of the photograph was handwriting: “Before ceiling, Duval.”
Beneath the photograph were handwritten sheets signed “W. Duval.” One note read: “They must not know. Stay silent to protect the boy.”
Another sheet listed:
- Rug destroy.
- Ashes – keep small portion.
- Photos – only one copy.
In the notebook, a passage written in blue ink dated to the closing period of the 1947 investigation stated: “They wouldn’t understand. He was scared. I could see it clearly. All the evidence would be against him, but he only panicked. I can’t let him lose his whole life in prison for what happened in a moment of rage.”
Handwriting analysis confirmed the writing matched authenticated samples of Walter Duval.
Inside the lid of the wooden box, a small glued slip of paper read: “Store separately, RD.”
The evidence indicated that Sheriff Walter Duval had deliberately removed and destroyed evidence to prevent prosecution and had preserved certain materials privately. Raymond Duval had retained the box after his father’s death.
Raymond Duval was arrested for obstruction of justice and destruction of criminal evidence. During interrogation, he confirmed that his father had given him the box and instructed him to keep it secret. He explained that the “boy” referenced in the note was Charles Hamilton.
According to Raymond, Walter Duval believed Charles had committed the crime in panic and did not deserve to lose his life to imprisonment. Walter had altered reports and destroyed evidence so the case would close as a missing persons matter. Raymond admitted he knew this was unlawful but retained the documents to preserve his father’s reputation.
A press conference announced the arrest and confirmed the Hamilton case had been reclassified as double homicide. The Louisiana State Bureau of Investigation issued notice that Barton and Christine Hamilton were now identified homicide victims, with Charles Hamilton, deceased 1982, designated as primary suspect.
The trial of Raymond Duval began in March 2006 at the federal courthouse in Baton Rouge.
The prosecution presented the chain of evidence: DNA-confirmed bone fragments belonging to Christine Hamilton; the Remington 12-gauge shell; the broken saw blade and burned knife recovered behind the house; and Walter Duval’s handwritten notes.
Witness Sarah LeBlanc’s recorded statement was played in court. She described hearing a muffled gunshot the night of the disappearance and seeing Charles dragging a heavy object wrapped in cloth into the backyard the following morning. She had reported this to Sheriff Duval in 1947 and was told to remain silent.
Document examiners testified that the notes “Stay silent to protect the boy” and the list referencing destruction of the rug and ashes were written by Walter Duval.
Raymond’s defense argued that he had merely retained the box at his father’s request and had not personally destroyed evidence. The prosecution countered with records showing Raymond had signed out the Hamilton file during the 1970s and had knowingly concealed materials.
After deliberation, the jury found Raymond Duval guilty of obstruction of justice and destruction of criminal evidence under Louisiana law. He was sentenced to 15 years in prison.
In its formal conclusion, the court determined that the Hamilton case constituted a double homicide committed in Gonzales, Louisiana, in the summer of 1947. The primary suspect was Charles Hamilton, deceased in 1982. The acts of concealment by Walter Duval and Raymond Duval were legally established.
With the verdict entered, the disappearance of Barton and Christine Hamilton was no longer listed among unresolved missing persons. It was recorded as double murder in Louisiana legal history.
Following the March 2006 conviction of Raymond Duval, the Louisiana cold case unit finalized file CC4721. What had begun in July 1947 as a missing persons report in Gonzales, Louisiana, ended nearly 60 years later as a confirmed double homicide with documented obstruction of justice.
The completed investigative report exceeded 400 pages. It incorporated the original 1947 scene documentation, the 2005 excavation records, DNA analysis from the Louisiana State Forensic Science Center in New Orleans, ballistic examination reports, tool mark comparisons, recovered witness testimony, and certified handwriting analysis.
The final reconstruction of events, based strictly on physical evidence and corroborated statements, established the following sequence.
On a summer night in 1947, a shotgun registered to Barton Hamilton was discharged inside the Hamilton residence. The recovered Remington 12-gauge shell, preserved separately in archive storage, bore firing pin impressions compatible with the model Barton owned. The casing also carried biological traces consistent with human material and showed heat exposure consistent with proximity to combustion.
Witness Sarah LeBlanc, who worked part-time as the Hamilton family’s maid, later testified that she heard a muffled gunshot that night. The following morning, she observed Charles Hamilton dragging a long, heavy object wrapped in cloth toward the rear of the property. She reported her observations to Sheriff Walter Duval in 1947 but was instructed not to discuss it further.
Excavation beneath the fireplace hearth in 2005 revealed a thick layer of pale ash containing human bone fragments. DNA analysis confirmed the remains belonged to Christine Hamilton. Additional excavation in the backyard uncovered a broken saw blade, a deformed shotgun barrel section consistent with a Remington 12-gauge, and a charred kitchen knife. These items bore human biological traces matching Christine’s DNA and evidence of high-temperature exposure.
The condition of the saw blade indicated forceful cutting of hard material. The knife and barrel fragment showed signs of burning and corrosion. Soil samples from the backyard contained charcoal and calcium phosphate compounds consistent with the fireplace ash.
The evidence supported a scenario in which Barton Hamilton was shot inside the residence. Christine Hamilton was killed and her body subjected to burning within the fireplace cavity. Tools found behind the house indicated dismemberment and attempted destruction of remains on site. The absence of intact remains was consistent with deliberate concealment.
The only surviving member of the household, Charles Hamilton, left Louisiana shortly after the disappearance. Records show he relocated to Texas and later Oklahoma. He never married, maintained no significant criminal record, and died of lung disease in 1982.
Sheriff Walter Duval, who led the original 1947 investigation, documented private notes stating, “Stay silent to protect the boy,” and recorded instructions to destroy the rug and retain only a small portion of ashes. Handwriting analysis confirmed the authenticity of these entries. Evidence demonstrated that Duval removed key materials from the official file and altered documentation to prevent prosecution.
Raymond Duval, Walter’s son and later court clerk with access to archived case files, retained the concealed materials in a wooden box marked H47. Archive logs confirmed he signed out the Hamilton file during the early 1970s when records were being reorganized. His conviction in 2006 established unlawful interference and destruction of criminal evidence under Louisiana law.
In its formal ruling, the court determined:
- Barton Hamilton and Christine Hamilton were victims of a double homicide committed in Gonzales, Louisiana, in the summer of 1947.
- The primary suspect was Charles Hamilton, deceased in 1982.
- Sheriff Walter Duval intentionally destroyed and altered evidence to prevent criminal prosecution.
- Raymond Duval knowingly concealed those materials and obstructed justice.
On July 12, 2006, file CC4721 was officially placed in the Louisiana State crime archive center in Baton Rouge, cataloged under “Historical Resolution.” The new black binder bore a silver label: “Hamilton Case – Resolved After 58 Years.”
Local newspapers described it as one of the longest resolved cold cases in Louisiana judicial history. The cold case unit documented the investigation as a model example of reopening long-dormant files using modern forensic techniques, including DNA extraction from burned bone fragments and evidence recovery from deteriorated materials.
The final report emphasized two conclusions.
First, Barton and Christine Hamilton did not disappear. They were killed inside their home in 1947, and the crime was concealed.
Second, the suppression of evidence by a sitting sheriff delayed justice for nearly six decades.
With the verdict entered and the report archived, the Hamilton case was removed from the registry of unresolved disappearances and entered permanently into Louisiana’s legal record as a confirmed double homicide.
The file, once thin and marked “Disappearance undetermined,” now stands as a documented account of homicide, concealment, and eventual resolution through preserved evidence and forensic reexamination.
After 58 years, the case was closed.
