NOLA T-Shirt of the Month Club
630 St. Ann Street
New Orleans, Louisiana
In my work documenting the ghosts of the French Quarter, I have encountered two thoughts that are incongruous. The first thought says that every building in the Quarter is haunted and must have at least one, if not more, ghosts. Secondly, I have discovered that there is little information on the haunting of a vast majority of the places in the Quarter. Most information pertains to the most famous of haunted places, leaving tremendous shadows on other locations. After combing through many books, websites, and conducting innumerable Google searches, finding new places is exceedingly rare.
I was overjoyed to find this small t-shirt shop, the NOLA T-shirt of the Month Club, on St. Ann is reporting paranormal activity; activity which has been caught on video. The French Quarter is populated by hordes of t-shirt and souvenir shops catering to the many tourists that throng the streets. Notably, this is the only t-shirt shop in the Quarter that has reported activity to my knowledge.
The NOLA T-Shirt of the Month Club occupies the building in the right side of this photo. This 2019 photo is by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The owners of the shop recently discovered that some paranormal activity was captured by security cameras. In the video, it appears that a side door moves with a bright orb appearing a short time later that shoots across the store. This video clearly captures the activity. After being alerted to movement, the owners did not find that anything was amiss inside the store. (The video can be seen in the link in the sources.)
One owner noted that they hear the occasional disembodied footsteps and they have had a lamp turn itself off unexpectedly. Other than that, the owners are taking their ghost in stride saying, “I believe if the store is haunted than it is definitely a friendly ghost who loves T-shirts and the spirit of all things New Orleans.”
According to the Collins C. Diboll Vieux Carré Digital Survey, a project of the Historic New Orleans Collection, the building is a typical townhouse that was constructed around 1840.
Sources
628-630 St. Ann St. Collins C. Diboll Vieux Carré Digital Survey. Accessed 17 June 2023.
This article is part of my series, Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter, which looks at the haunted places of this neighborhood in a street by street basis. Please see the series main page for an introduction to the French Quarter and links to other streets.
Ursulines Street
When Adrien de Pauger laid out the streets of New Orleans in 1721, he named this street for his personal saint, Rue de Saint-Adrien. The name did not stick for long and the street was renamed Rue de l’Arsenal. Eventually, the name was changed to honor St. Ursula, the patron of the Ursuline Sisters who arrived here in 1727 and founded a convent at the corner of what is now Chartres and Ursulines Streets. That name evolved to honor the sisters themselves.
Sources
Arthur, Stanley Clisby. Walking Tours of Old New Orleans. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 1936.
Haunted Hotel 623 Ursulines Street
This early 19th century home is the host of modern tourists and supposedly a number of ghosts. I have covered it in a separate article.
715 Ursulines Street (private)
This typical early 19th century home became the scene for two bloody murders in 1927 dubbed the “Trunk Murders, “after making headlines around the country. According to the current owner, the house is not haunted, though the story has influenced another ghost story a few doors down. This strange murder has been covered in my article, “A Block of Death and Dismemberment—New Orleans.”
725 Ursulines Street
The doorway of 725 Ursulines Street, 2019. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
For nearly a century, a famous ghost tale has been placed in this home, though the story may be mostly fictional. For more information, see my article, “A Block of Death and Dismemberment—New Orleans.”
735 Ursulines Street
This classic Creole cottage may be haunted by ghosts, but it does provide an eerie postscript and tie-in to two stories in the same block. See my article, “A Block of Death and Dismemberment—New Orleans for more details.
Stay away from jazz and liquor, and the men who play for fun. That’s the thought that came upon me when we both reached for the gun.
— “They both reached for the gun.” from the musical Chicago (1975) by John Kander and Fred Ebb.
715, 725, & 735 Ursulines Street (private)
While reading about the infamous 1927 “Trunk Murders,” my mind instantly began to draw parallels with the Kander and Ebb musical Chicago. The musical explores the intersection of murder, tabloid journalism, and infamy, all against the backdrop of Prohibition-era Chicago with its wild criminality and vaudeville entertainment drunk on the influences of money and illegal liquor, all underscored by the rhythms of jazz. The themes of the musical however, could easily be transplanted to many other American cities in this era, especially New Orleans.
Northeastern side of Ursulines Street in 1999. The edge of 735, a creole cottage, is on the far left with 725 near the middle of the photo. The last balcony with lacy ironwork on the right is 715. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Throughout the early twentieth-century, much of the French Quarter was a working-class neighborhood populated by immigrants. This collection of old buildings still possessed a magical aura that attracted Bohemians like Sherwood Anderson, William Faulkner, Lyle Saxon, and other creatives who immersed themselves in the vibrant, thrumming atmosphere and took advantage of the low rents. Less than a decade before, a pall had been thrown over these neighborhoods as they were haunted by the infamous axe man who mostly preyed on Italian immigrants adding to the city’s allure. Crime remained rampant in the Quarter.
Just a few days before Halloween 1927, housekeeper Nettie Compass stepped inside the second-floor rooms of 715 Ursulines Avenue to attend to her regular duties for the Moity family. The crowded domicile was in a bloody disarray. Compass quickly summoned some bystanders and newspaper reporter George William Healy before she proceeded further into crime scene. Healy wrote in his memoirs “we found red stains on the floor and saw a large trunk in a bedroom, partially open. When I pulled up the trunk lid, a woman’s body, arms, and legs severed from the torso, was exposed.”
Healy called a fellow reporter, Gwen, who intrepidly ventured further into the apartment where “she sighted several objects on a bed. ‘Look,’ said Gwen, holding up these objects. ‘Lady fingers.’ Four fingers had been cut from a woman’s hand … After placing the fingers back on the bed, Gwen moved to a second bedroom, found a second trunk, and opened it. It contained a second woman’s body.”
A machete-like cane knife, typically used to cut sugar cane, rested on the second torso, as if to proudly boast of its role in the killings. The rest of the apartment was strewn with the family’s personal effects and smears, trails, drops, and spatters of blood. It’s not hard to imagine the metallic reek of blood bolstered by the late October humidity surrounding the sanguine scene.
After examining the scene, the coroner, Dr. George Roeling, determined that the two women had likely been beaten with a lead billy club before they were decapitated with the cane knife and then skillfully dismembered. The victims were Theresa and Leonide “Lonie” Moity, the wives of brothers Henry and Joseph Moity. The two couples lived with their children in these small rooms where the neighbors reported frequent loud, drunken fights among the adults over money and infidelity.
In a bedroom cabinet, investigators discovered a poorly written manuscript of Lonie’s story exhorting young girls to “be careful, for marriage is a life sentence… Guess it was only my luck to be happy like this, so I warn others not to take the same risk.” Ironically, nearby a rejection slip from a popular ladies’ magazine was discovered smeared in blood.
From the scattered clues, investigators pieced the family’s torrid tale. Joseph Moity had recently left his wife, Lonie after uncovering her infidelity. At the same time, tensions between Henry and Theresa continued to simmer. A realty office operated on the ground floor of 715 Ursulines under the aegis of Joseph Caruso. After the couples moved in upstairs, Caruso and Theresa Moity began flirting in the quiet moments when Henry was out of the apartment.
A clipping of a newspaper article posted to Joseph Moity’s Find-A-Grave memorial page. The children are Henry and Theresa’s, with Leonide “Lonie” and Henry Moity pictured below.
On October 26, a day before the bodies were discovered, Lonie and Theresa announced that they were moving out as they packed their belongings in a pair of trunks. Henry began drinking and, under the influence of alcohol, devised a plan to murder the women. He waited until the women and children were asleep before he entered the bedrooms and began his grisly work. Moity’s skills as a butcher made quick work of the dissection of his wife and sister-in-law. Once the deed was done, he made his way into the morning breeze of the Quarter.
Once the bodies were found, authorities initiated in the search for the women’s husbands. Joseph quickly turned himself in, revealing that he was separated from his now late wife and currently living with his sister. The search immediately turned to focus on Henry. The crew of a freighter headed out of the city turned Henry in, just two days after the murders were discovered. Henry was eventually found guilty of the murders and given two concurrent life sentences.
Henry Moity spent a number of years in the Louisiana State Penitentiary gaining the trust of the prison wardens. In 1944, after he was sent on an errand to the post office, he blithely escaped. Two years later he was arrested in St. Louis and returned to Louisiana where he was shortly released from prison. Making his way to California, he was arrested for shooting (but not killing) his girlfriend and was incarcerated in the infamous Folsom Prison where he died some years later.
The Moity murders were national news. This article appeared in the Indianapolis (IN) Star – Sun on Christmas 1927.
Today, there is little to distinguish this typical nineteenth-century town house from its neighbors. On the subject of the torrid and bloody affair that happened within its walls just a few days before Halloween in 1927, the house is mute. Tour guides spin tales about paranormal activity here, though the co-owner recently told the Times-Picayune, “This place is absolutely not haunted. It’s a lovely house that unfortunately had this really tragic thing happen in it in the 1920s.”
Interestingly, this tale may have influenced another ghost story just a few doors down at 725 Ursulines St. In 1945, Gumbo Ya-ya: A Collection of Louisiana Folk Tales was published. Compiled from material collected by writers with the WPA’s Writers Project under the supervision of Lyle Saxon, this book enshrined a number of ghost tales that remain in the collective psyche of New Orleanians and especially ghost tour guides. The tale of the “sausage ghost” is one of those stories. Somehow, despite any documentary evidence, this story has been placed at this address.
The doorway of 725 Ursulines Street, 2019. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
According to this story, Hans Muller lived and worked at this address some time ago. He was a sausage-maker and had his factory within his home. Over the years, he grew tired of his wife and one night pushed her into the sausage grinder. Customers began to complain of finding “bits of bone and cloth in their sausages.”
One evening as he worked, Mr. Muller was confronted by the angry spirit of his wife and fled in terror. Disturbed by his screams, neighbors contacted the authorities, though Muller placated them by saying he’d had a nightmare. After a customer discovered part of a gold wedding band in their sausage, the police were sent to the address again. There “they found Hans Muller in his factory screaming and crying, a raving maniac.” After determining the nature of his crime, he was placed in an asylum where he later committed suicide. The next owner of the property reported that the spirit of the wife continued to return.
The sausage ghost tale is believed to be fiction as there is no other evidence attesting to the story’s validity outside of its inclusion in Gumbo Ya-ya. Is it any wonder that this house, so close to the location of the Trunk Murders, has had this strange tale attached?
The Creole cottage containing 735 and 737 Ursulines Street, 2023. By Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Still, while these stories don’t pan out as ghost stories per se, there is an eerie postscript. In 2002, at 735 Ursulines Street a disturbed man murdered his girlfriend, likely after she revealed that she was leaving him. The man butchered her and packed her remains into “a cheap particle board trunk.” A short time later, the man moved to a new apartment on Elysian Fields Avenue (so named for the resting place of Greek heroes) with the morbid trunk in tow. After the man left that apartment, his landlord discovered the trunk and its mummified contents in 2005, leaving this dark detail among the myriad that pervade the French Quarter like the stodgy humidity and dampness that continue to linger in this tropical city.
Joseph Moity (1894-1966) Find-A-Grave Memorial. Saint Vincent de Paul Cemetery #3, New Orleans, Orleans Parish, Louisiana, USA; Maintained by Clonegall (contributor 48053852). Accessed 21 May 2023.
Saxon, Lyle, et al. Gumbo Ya-ya: A Collection of Louisiana Folk Tales. Louisiana Library Commission, 1945.
This article is part of my series, Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter, which looks at the haunted places of this neighborhood in a street by street basis. Please see the series main page for an introduction to the French Quarter and links to other streets.
Conti Street
Conti Street sign, 2019 by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
According to historian Stanley Clisby Arthur, Bourbon Street was initially called Conti Street for the Princess Conti. When Bourbon Street was renamed, this street was renamed Conti.
Sources
Arthur, Stanley Clisby. Walking Tours of Old New Orleans. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 1990. Originally published in 1936.
700 Block Conti Street
Throughout its history, the French Quarter has been no stranger to violence. In the early morning hours of 21 March 2015, gunshots rang out in this block of Conti Street. In the aftermath, two young men in their 20s lay wounded. One of them died on the scene, while the other died at the hospital a short time later.
A view of the 700-block Conti Street looking towards Bourbon Street. Photo 2019, by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Part of this spectacle may replay itself. Investigator and author Jeff Dwyer explains that witnesses have seen “the ghostly images of a young man who appears lifelike but quickly becomes transparent as he runs a distance of about 50 feet and then vanishes.” Others have heard “muted gunshots” as they have seen this horrible image.
Sources
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans: Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 2016.
Prince Conti Hotel
830 Conti Street
The Prince Conti Hotel’s bar, The Bombay Club, is apparently haunted by the spirit of a madam who once operated on the premises before the hotel was opened. She has been dubbed Sophie by staff members who have encountered her in the kitchen, bar, and at Booth 3.
The bar of The Bombay Club in the Prince Conti Hotel, 2010. Photo by Gary J. Wood, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Sources
Gardner, James. Professor’s Guide to Ghosts of New Orleans. CreateSpace, 2020. Kindle Edition.
917 Conti Street (formerly Musee Conti Wax Museum), private
The idea for the Musee Conti Wax Museum came to Ben Weil after a visit to London’s famous Madame Tussaud’s while on a trip to Europe. He quickly imagined a similar counterpart in New Orleans illustrating scenes from local history. The museum opened in 1964 with figures created by a Parisian mannequin maker. The figures of Napoleon, Andrew Jackson, Madame LaLaurie, Marie Laveau, and Jelly Roll Morton were shipped to the city on a Pan Am jet, where some of the figures were seated in the cabin among actual human passengers. The wax museum quickly became a major tourist attraction in the French Quarter. Legions of school children visited among the silent and still figures to learn the weird and wacky and violent history of the city.
917 Conti Street, the building that once held the Musee Conti Wax Museum, is the grey building on the right of this photo. Photo 2021, by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Over time, stories began to spread of spirits among the wax figures. Staff and guests have heard disembodied voices within the museum and others have seen shadow figures moving about amongst the stationary figures. Others have felt the eyes of the figures follow them around the space. The museum has undergone investigations by a number of paranormal investigators who have uncovered a great deal of evidence alluding to the presence of spirits here.
Sadly, the Musee Conti Wax Museum closed in 2016 and the building was sold. Developers transformed the building into high-end private condos. Since the building’s redevelopment, it is unknown if the spirits remain here.
In a city chock full of irascible characters, Norma Wallace is amongst the pantheon. For decades, she was one of the most well-known doyennes of the city’s pleasure palaces. She was the last, and perhaps the most upstanding and respectable, of many madams who operated throughout this city’s vice-ridden history. From this innocuous address she operated one of the city’s most famous brothels, a place where the patriarchs of prominent families brought their sons as a rite of coming of age. A place where wanted criminals might rub shoulders with the judges who might one day sentence them. Business leaders, bureaucrats, political leaders, entertainers, law enforcement, and diplomats all came to indulge in Norma Wallace’s court of young women. For a time, couples might visit to observe some of New Orleans’ first sex shows given in Norma Wallace’s parlor.
Born into a poverty-stricken family, Wallace had aunts engaged in prostitution. At a young age, she learned that she could earn a living with her womanly charms, though she quickly grew tired of actually selling herself. Within a short time, she began overseeing other ladies of the evening and quickly learned how to finesse law enforcement and the justice system to protect her business interests. With the election of increasingly conservative crime-fighting district attorneys who vowed to fight corruption, she was forced to close her house and business. In her later years, she was able to transform her infamy into fame and her name was celebrated, though she quickly grew bored. In 1974 she took her life at her home in rural Mississippi.
This infamous address fell into disrepair and decay following Wallace’s ownership. Recently, a developer purchased the home and restored it, dividing the house into condos. It is said that the odor of cigars is still smelled here accompanied by the clinking of glasses and the sound of a woman’s husky laugh. Perhaps Norma Wallace is reliving the best years of her life?
Sources
Gardner, James. Professor’s Guide to Ghosts of New Orleans. CreateSpace, 2020. Kindle Edition.
Wiltz, Christine. The Last Madam: A Life in the New Orleans Underworld. NYC: Open Road Integrated Media, 2000. Kindle Edition.
This article is part of my series, Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter, which looks at the haunted places of this neighborhood in a street by street basis. Please see the series main page for an introduction to the French Quarter and links to other streets.
Bourbon Street
Named for the House of Bourbon, the ruling family of France in the 18th century, Bourbon Street has earned a reputation as the place to party in The Big Easy. Prior to the turn of the 20th century, it was one of the premiere addresses in the city. Its fortunes declined a bit with the establishment of Storyville above the French Quarter. This notorious red-light district attracted prostitution and gambling to much of the French Quarter. This street has attracted many businesses catering to an adult audience. Even with the presence of these businesses, the street is the focus of the city’s many tourists.
A view of the 400 block of Bourbon Street looking towards the Central Business District, 2012. Photo by Chris Litherland, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Sources
Bourbon Street. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 22 April 2023.
Old Absinthe House 240 Bourbon Street
Occupying a corner of Bourbon and Bienville streets, the Old Absinthe House also occupies position in both the alcoholic and paranormal history of the city. Built in 1806, this structure was originally a business and dwelling house for a pair of Spanish importers, Pedro Font and Francisco Juncadella. Eventually, noted local bartender Cayetano Ferrer took out a lease on the building and began serving absinthe, renaming it The Absinthe Room.
The Old Absinthe House, 1937, by Frances Johnston. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
Legend holds that before the Battle of New Orleans, the infamous pirate Jean Lafitte, met with General Andrew Jackson here to arrange for his help in the defense of the city against British attack during the War of 1812. Jackson agreed to Lafitte’s services in exchange for a pardon on the charges leveled at him for his pirate and smuggling operations.
While there is little evidence that this meeting actually occurred within the walls of the Old Absinthe House, owners over the years have continued to support this legend. Indeed, they have also attributed paranormal activity here to the dashing shade of Lafitte, despite the claims of his spirit haunting many other places throughout the city and the state. Perhaps Lafitte is as busy in the afterlife as he was during his existence in this plane.
Old Absinthe House in 2012. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Several sources note the presence of unexplained activity throughout the old building including doors opening and closing by themselves, and glassware and chairs moving on their own accord.
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans, Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 2016.
“Old Absinthe House: Legend says Jackson, Lafitte met here in French Quarter.” The Daily Advertiser. 4 March 1959.
Taylor, David. “Museum solves problem of Absinthe House secret floor.” The Daily Advertiser. 15 October 1950.
Taylor, Troy. Haunted New Orleans. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2010.
327 Bourbon Street (formerly Temptations Gentlemen’s Club)
The elegant townhouse at this address is still (as of March 2022) boarded up with graffiti and slowly decaying. The building has being sitting in this sad state since early 2018 when Temptations was shut down permanently after the city cited the business with numerous code violations and found evidence that prostitution was taking place on the premises.
This home was built in 1835 by Judah P. Benjamin, a brilliant young Jewish lawyer who married the young daughter of a private family. While he was successful as a lawyer and planter, his wife separated from him and moved with their young daughter to Paris. In 1852, Benjamin was elected to the US Senate and he served in that capacity until Louisiana seceded from the Union in 1861. Impressed by him, Jefferson Davis appointed him as attorney general, then to Secretary of War for the Confederacy, and ultimately to Secretary of State. With the end of the war, he fled to London where he served as a barrister for the remainder of his life.
327 Bourbon Street around 1937 or 1938 by Frances Benjamin Johnston.
This lovely home remained a private residence for many years following Benjamin’s ownership and may have served as a brothel at some point in more recent history. By the mid-2010s, the building had been transformed into Temptations. The owners had left much of the historic interiors intact and had also renovated the slave quarters in the back for private encounters with the club’s female employees.
Paranormal investigator Brad Duplechien toured in the building around this time and documented stories from various members of the staff. They spoke of encountering a lady in white in the main house and spoke of a certain VIP room as having an oppressive atmosphere. In the old slave quarters, they experienced doors opening, closing, and locking on their own.
Sources
Duplechien, Brad. “Temptations Gentlemen’s Club – New Orleans, LA (The Haunted Strip Club).” Haunted Nation. 5 October 2016.
Litten, Kevin. “Temptations strip club owners give up on F. Q. property; club shut down permanently.” New Orleans Times-Picayune. 30 January 2018.
Bourbon Heat 711 Bourbon Street
The carriageway at the Tricou House, now Bourbon Heat nightclub. Photo by Frances Johnston, 1937, courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
The spirit of a young woman who died in a fall on the stairs here is supposed to remain in this nightclub. Built in 1832 by Dr. Joseph Tricou, this former private residence has been a bar for many years. The doctor’s niece Penelope supposedly lost her footing on the stairs and tumbled to her death. Staff and patrons have heard disembodied footsteps throughout the building. A statue in the club’s courtyard is also said to move on its own volition.
Sources
Klein, Victor C. New Orleans Ghosts. Chapel Hill, NC: Professional Press, 1993.
Smith, Katherine. Journey Into Darkness: Ghosts and Vampires of New Orleans. New Orleans, LA: De Simonin Publications, 1998.
Bourbon Pub and Parade 801 Bourbon Street
The Bourbon Pub decked out in Pride regalia for one of the city’s many pride celebrations, 2016. Photo by Tony Webster, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The Bourbon Pub and Parade is the largest gay bar in New Orleans and one of the premier sites for partying during the annual Southern Decadence, a six-day gay and lesbian festival held over Memorial Day weekend. Patrons here have seen, heard, and occasionally felt spirits throughout the bar area. Some patrons have been surprised by the hollow sound of a thud accompanied by the inexplicable sensation of a cane hitting the bottom of their shoe.
Sources
Summer, Ken. Queer Hauntings: True Tales of Gay and Lesbian Ghosts. Maple Shade, NJ: Lethe Press, 2009.
Café Lafitte in Exile 901 Bourbon Street
Doorway of the Cafe Lafitte in Exile, 2016. Photo by Tony Webster, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Opened in 1933, at the end of Prohibition, the Café Lafitte in Exile is now known as the oldest continuously operating gay bar in the United States. Two of the café’s most famous patrons, writers Tennessee Williams and Truman Capote, are believed to revisit this, one of their favorite haunts. While neither writer died in New Orleans, they have been seen within the walls of the café. Ken Summers notes that another, rather frisky spirit, known as Mister Bubbles, is known to pinch some patrons’ posteriors.
Sources
Richardson, Joy. “New Orleans’ Café Lafitte Haunted by Two Literary Greats.” com. 12 July 2010.
Summer, Ken. Queer Hauntings: True Tales of Gay and Lesbian Ghosts. Maple Shade, NJ: Lethe Press, 2009.
Housed in an old mansion overlooking Bourbon Street and the historic and haunted Lafitte Blacksmith Shop across the street, the Lafitte Guest House is home to a handful of spirits. Some years ago, the inn’s owners were planning on going on a cruise. As they discussed the plans for the cruise, soot blew down the chimney of the room where they sat and spelled out the words “No Voyage” on the floor.
The spirit of a little girl has been seen by guests in the mirror of the second floor balcony. Guests will look at themselves in the mirror and see a little girl crying behind them. She may be the young daughter of the Gleises family who resided here in the mid-19th century. It is believed that she died during one of the many yellow fever epidemics that swept through New Orleans in the 1850s. The spirit of an anguished woman is believed to be the spirit of this little girl’s mother.
Sources
Kermeen, Frances. Ghostly Encounters: True Stories of America’s Haunted Inn and Hotels. NYC: Warner Books, 2002.
Sillery, Barbara. The Haunting of Louisiana. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 2001.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
N.B. This article was originally published 15 June 2016 with Bourbon Street.
This article is part of my series, Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter, which looks at the haunted places of this neighborhood in a street by street basis. Please see the series main page for an introduction to the French Quarter and links to other streets.
Dauphine Street
Tile street name set into the sidewalk. Photo by Infrogmation, 2019, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Originally the Rue de Vendome, this street was renamed Dauphine Street not long after. According to John Chase’s Frenchmen, Desire, Good Children…and other Streets of New Orleans, there is no certainty as to who this street is named for, though it was likely named for the Dauphin of France, the heir apparent to the French crown.
Sources
Chase, John. Frenchmen, Desire, Good Children…and other Streets of New Orleans. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 1949.
Dauphine Orleans Hotel
415 Dauphine Street
Like so many French Quarter hotels, the Dauphine Orleans comprises a number of buildings with varying histories and spirits. On the west side of Dauphine Street is a small group of old cottages, some dating to at least 1775. Among these buildings is the Audubon Cottage, one of several buildings where artist John James Audubon lived for a time. Another cottage was once occupied by one of the city’s infamous bordellos in the 19th century, a bawdy house under the watchful eye of May Bailey. This building is now the hotel’s bar, May Bailey’s Place.
The 1895 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map of the corner of Dauphine and Conti Streets where the Dauphine Orleans Hotel is now located. Most of the cottages and buildings on this corner now comprise the hotel.
In 1834, merchant Samuel Hermann built a large home just across the street from the cottages. This building now houses the hotel’s offices. After these buildings were renovated, the Dauphine Orleans Hotel opened in 1971.
Investigations conducted in the 1990s by the International Society for Paranormal Research (ISPR) reported the presence of a number of spirits including a soldier’s spirit in the pool area, and several former ladies of the evening, possibly associated with May Bailey.
Sources
Brown, Alan. The Haunted South. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2014.
“The Dauphine Hotel is really haunted.” WGNO. 30 October 2015.
Montz, Larry and Daena Smoller. ISPR Investigates The Ghosts of New Orleans. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2000.
Oswell, Paul. New Orleans Historic Hotels. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2014.
Gardette-LePretre House 715 Dauphine Street, private
The Gardette-LePretre House in January 1958. This photo was taken by Richard Koch for the Historic American Buildings Survey (HABS), courtesy of the Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
Sometimes known as the “Sultan’s Retreat” this private residence is home to a popular legend. At some point in the early 19th century, a deposed potentate from the east took up residence here. Accompanied by scimitar-wielding guards, a harem, eunuchs and servants, the potentate rented the home and turned it into an Eastern-styled pleasure garden. One morning passersby noticed that everything had suddenly gone quiet. Ominously, and in testament to the horrors within, a small trickle of blood dripped from underneath the front door. When the police broke in to investigate they discovered all the home’s residents had been massacred in an orgy of blood and violence. Since that time, residents have supposedly dealt with odd sounds, disembodied screams, and mysterious apparitions. Sadly, there’s no evidence that these events actually occurred or that the building may be haunted.
Sources
Ambrose, Kala. Spirits of New Orleans. Cincinnati, OH: Clerisy Press, 2012.
Caskey, James. The Haunted History of New Orleans. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2014.
Dauphine House Bed & Breakfast
1830 Dauphine Street
The Dauphine House is located about a block outside of the French Quarter in Faubourg Marigny, but I think it’s close enough to include in this look at French Quarter haunts.
This small inn, built in 1860 as a private residence, hosts several spirits. Not long after the owner purchased the home she encountered a spectral couple on the stairs, “they wore clothes from the end of the 1800s…they were standing there smiling.” She thanked them for their home and explained that she would take care of the house and the couple disappeared. A guest at the inn who was distraught over a breakup reportedly saw the couple a few times during her visit and felt they were attempting to comfort her.
Sources
“Haunts of the Dauphine House.” Ghost Eyes Blog. 15 January 2010.
Smith, Terry L. and Mark Jean. Haunted Inns of America. Crane Hill Publishers, 2003.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
This article is part of my series, Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter, which looks at the haunted places of this neighborhood in a street by street basis. Please see the series main page for an introduction to the French Quarter and links to other streets.
Wilkinson Street
Also known as Wilkinson Alley, this street runs for a block between Decatur Street and Chartres Street. It was cut through this block in 1816 and named Jefferson Street, though the name was later changed to honor General James Wilkinson (1757-1825), who was appointed by Thomas Jefferson as the first territorial governor of Louisiana.
James Wilkinson by Charles Willson Peale, 1797.
Wilkinson is quite a controversial figure in American history. He served the Patriot cause during the American Revolution, though he involved himself in a myriad of political intrigues and scandals throughout much of his life. Some years after his death, a scholar uncovered evidence that Wilkinson had been a spy for Spain.
Sources
Chase, John. Frenchmen, Desire, Good Children…and other Streets of New Orleans. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 1949.
James Wilkinson. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 15 April 2023.
535 Wilkinson Street
About two decades ago, this address, originally constructed around 1895 as a warehouse for Jackson Brewery, was occupied by Shalimar Indian Cuisine. During that time, Ghost Expedition tours frequently took guests to the restaurant in search of a male spirit that was reported there. Described as a man in traditional Sikh clothing consisting of long robes, a turban, and wielding a scimitar, the spirit was believed to be a protective entity watching over the family who owned the establishment.
Shalimar Indian Cuisine once occupied the far left bay in the white warehouse building in the center of this photograph. Photo by Infrogmation, 2019, courtesy of Wikipedia.
The entity was frequently encountered on the second floor, where people felt sudden temperature changes and would hear the sound of heavy furniture being dragged across the third floor.
During one Ghost Expedition visit in 1997, the entity made its presence abundantly clear. As the guide was speaking with her guests on the restaurant’s second floor, a large shadow appeared and “superimposed” itself on the guide. Feeling threatened, she began to back up, eventually making her way to a far wall with the shadow still on her. Upset, several guests screamed and fled the building. Once the guide was able to regain her voice, she apologized to the spirit and the shadow disappeared.
It is unknown if the spirit has remained on the premises since the Indian restaurant has closed.
Sources
Montz, Larry and Daena Smoller. ISPR Investigates The Ghosts of New Orleans. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2000.
Café Sbisa
1011 Decatur Street
New Orleans, Louisiana
The building that is now occupied by the Café Sbisa was originally a ship’s chandlery in 1820, where crews of ships berthed at the wharves and docks along the river could purchase supplies. As was typical in this time period, the first floor was used as retail space with the upper floors serving as a residence for the store’s owner and his family. Over the time, the building continued to serve seamen as a banking operation and a saloon with a brothel on the upper floors.
In 1899, the Sbisa family purchased the building and opened a respectable café in it. Over the years, the café has garnered a reputation for its food, drinks, and conviviality, so much so that New Orleans artist George Dureau (1930-2014) captured it in a triptych painting that hangs above the bar. The work celebrates patrons, employees, and the artist himself all within a fantastical vision of the restaurant called “Strangers in our midst: Café Sbisa, New Orleans.”
A highly decorated art car is parked just outside Cafe Sbisa on the afternoon of 2 August 2008. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
At times, amidst the bustle of staff and patrons, spectral strangers may make their way through the restaurant. These strangers date to the building’s notorious era during the 19th century. A tale has emerged concerning a young girl sold into prostitution by her father to pay his debts. The young girl believed that she could work to repay the debt and would then be freed. Unfortunately, she became pregnant and was shocked to learn that the debt had been compounded with charges for room, board, and clothing, thus keeping her against her will for her entire life. After giving birth, the distraught girl drowned her infant in courtyard’s fountain and hanged herself. These tragic deaths have left spiritual imprints on the space.
Patrons and staff have reported feeling their clothes tugged at by unseen hands as well as gentle shoves in the second-floor dining area. Others have watched as the chandelier has begun swinging on its own. Is this activity a sign of spectral strangers in our midst?
Sources
Gardner, James. Professor’s Guide to Ghosts of New Orleans. Amazon, 2020.
Some paranormal investigators theorize that cemeteries and burial sites should not be haunted because spirits are not thought to remain near their earthly remains. However, this thinking can easily be proven wrong with the sheer number of cemeteries and burial sites that are said to be haunted. This directory lists all cemeteries covered within this blog.
Alabama
Boyington Oak, inside Church Street Cemetery, Bayou Street, Mobile
This article is part of my series, Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter, which looks at the haunted places of this neighborhood in a street by street basis. Please see the series main page for an introduction to the French Quarter and links to other streets.
Pirate Alley
Running from Chartres Street and Royal Street between St. Louis Cathedral and the Cabildo, Pirate Alley was originally called Orleans Alley South, as it is an extension of Orleans Street. Despite the official 1964 name change, there has always been contention on whether the name is singular (“Pirate”), plural (“Pirates”), or possessive (“Pirate’s” or “Pirates’”). A 2017 article in the Times-Picayune examines this issue and weighs in on the side of the paper’s own style-guide, which deems the name as the singular and non-possessive “Pirate Alley.”
A view down Pirate Alley towards Chartres Street. Photo 2007, by Infrogmation. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Of course, this also begs the question as to the identity of the pirate for whom this alley is named. Most sources point to the infamous Jean Lafitte, the privateer and pirate whose legend is inextricably linked to New Orleans’ history. In his classic history of New Orleans street names, John Chase notes:
The other passage—Pirates’ Alley—is named in fanciful recollection of the legendary Jean Lafitte and his motley band of pirogue-mounted cutthroats, the Baratarians. Lafitte’s outfit had no more connection with Pirates’ Alley than with the teachings of the church, which the passage flanks on the uptown side. But the name fascinates all visitors.
While tour guides continue to promulgate legends that Lafitte and his men met and did business along this passage, there is no evidence that it actually happened. In Lafitte’s time, this alley was the seat of power for both the church, in the form of the cathedral, and the law, which was issued and enforced from the Cabildo (see my entry on this building and its ghosts at 701 Chartres Street) and the prison behind it. While the romantic notion of a pirate rebelliously conducting his business in the shadow of the church and the law is a fascinating image, it is unlikely to have actually happened as such.
Jean Lafitte
In examining the ghostly tales of New Orleans, there are two names that are frequently encountered: Jean Lafitte and Marie Laveau. If even half the stories of their hauntings are true, these two must be the busiest spirits in New Orleans, making appearances and causing paranormal shenanigans throughout the city and the Gulf Coast Region.
An anonymous, early 19th century portrait purported to be Jean Lafitte. From the Rosenberg Gallery.
About thirty years after Lafitte’s death, one researcher remarked, “I found in my researches, twenty years ago, romantic legends so interwoven with facts that it was extremely difficult to the historical truth from the traditional.” So couched in legend is the life of Jean Lafitte that scholars have argued about so much of his life, and writing a biography is a difficult exercise in speculation and conjecture. Even contemporary sources disagree and contradict one another.
Lafitte’s place of birth is argued to have been southwest France, though others have posited that he may have been born in the colony of Saint Domingue in what is now Haiti. Biographer William C. Davis argues that both Jean and his older brother, Pierre (who worked alongside his brother in New Orleans) were born in the town of Pauillac in the Gironde region of France, and that Pierre ventured to Saint Domingue around the turn of the 19th century where he eventually fled the turmoil for the prosperity of La Louisiane.
Jean Lafitte possibly appears on the scene around the time of the sale of the Louisiana Territory to the United States in 1803. Around this time, Pierre, possibly with the help of his brother, began to deal in slaves and also evade the newly established American trade laws. This piracy, which was all too common along the Gulf coast, created a reputation for the brothers. Their knowledge of the intricacies of the bayous and waterways of the area led them to providing aid—in terms of knowledge, material goods, and fighting men—to American forces during the War of 1812. This aid was provided on the condition that the brothers would be granted pardons for their crimes.
The notorious brothers were forced out of business by the government which forced them to close their business matters in New Orleans. They continued their pirating, though in different places: Pierre establishing a base off the coast of Mexico before being killed in 1821 and Jean dealing in Colombia before his death in 1823. William Davis notes that the legacy of the brothers was more as folk heroes.
Sources
Chase, John. Frenchmen, Desire, Good Children…And Other Streets of New Orleans. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 2007.
Davis, William C. The Pirates Laffite: The Treacherous World of the Corsairs of the Gulf. NYC: Harcourt, 2005.
Scott, Mike. “Pirate Alley: A history of the New Orleans street and its name(s).” Times-Picayune. 5 April 2017.
Pirate’s Alley Café
622 Pirate Alley
Since the mid-18th century, this space behind the Cabildo, the seat of Spanish rule in the city, was occupied by the Spanish Calabozo or Calaboose, a royal prison. This building remained until it was demolished in the late 1830s. It was here that both Lafitte brothers and some of their men were imprisoned. Some of the structures that now stand here were constructed thereafter, though may still be the residence of the spirits of some of those incarcerated here.
A bartender at the Pirate’s Alley Cafe prepares an absinthe drink in this 2008 photo by Infrogmation. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
In an interview with the café’s owner, author James Caskey was told that one of the spirits in Pirate’s Alley Café tends towards “naughty” antics. While some bars and restaurants in the city regularly leave out an offering to appease the spirits, the spirit here was not impressed by the bread and water. The bar experienced doors slamming and light bulbs shattering until someone had the idea of leaving out a glass of rum. The antics quieted down after that. The spirit was also blamed for harassing a female bartender as it undid her bra and her top, exposing the poor employee.
Sources
Caskey, James. The Haunted History of New Orleans: Ghosts of the French Quarter. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2013.
The three haunted buildings on Pirate Alley. Faulkner House Books is the yellow building. Photo 2007, by Infrogmation. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Faulkner House Books
624 Pirate Alley
William Faulkner arrived in New Orleans as a poet and left as a novelist. During his stay here in 1925, he rented the street-level floor of this home and wrote his first novel, Soldiers’ Pay, with influence and support from his friend, writer Sherwood Anderson. This building now appropriately houses a bookstore named for him where some have encountered the odor of pipe smoke, attributed to Faulkner.
Sources
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans, Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican, 2017.
A view of the haunted buildings of Pirate Alley from Pere Antoine Alley across St. Anthony’s Garden. The yellow building is Faulkner House Books, while the red building next door is the house at 626 Pirate Alley. Photo 2007, by Infrogmation. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
626 Pirate Alley (private)
During one of the many epidemics that swept through New Orleans during the 1850s, a little girl contracted one of these illnesses. To aid in her recuperation, the child lay on a chaise lounge in front of one of the large third floor windows of this home. Jeff Dwyer was granted a tour of the home and sensed a great deal of sadness near one of the windows. Others have reported seeing the face of the child pressed up against the windows overlooking St. Anthony’s Garden across the street (for information on the haunting of this garden, see my entry on Royal Street).
Sources
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans, Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican, 2017.
