N.B. This article was originally published 16 June 2016 with Basin and Burgundy Streets.
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.
North Rampart Street
Tile North Rampart Street marker, by Infrogmation, 2007, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Rampart Street is named for the old city wall, or ramparts, that once stretched along this street from Fort St. Jean at the intersection of North Rampart and Barracks Streets to Fort Bourgogne at the intersection of North Rampart and Iberville Streets. Throughout the early and mid-20th century, Rampart Street was the center of an important African-American commercial and entertainment district. Notably, many of the clubs along this street were influential in the evolution of jazz music.
Sources
Federal Writers’ Project of the Works Progress Administration. New Orleans City Guide, 1938. Reprint by Garrett County Press, 2009.
Rampart Street. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 30 July 2019.
Haunted Museum & Spirit Shop 826 North Rampart Street
In 2006, tragedy was visited on this typical Creole-style cottage. Death visited the young couple living in the upstairs apartment with the young man strangling his girlfriend and eventually dismembering her body. After he committed suicide some days later by jumping off the top of the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel on St. Louis Street, the mutilated remains were found by police in the kitchen of the apartment, some of them cooking on the stove while other parts were stored in the refrigerator. Locals began to refer to the cottage as the “Rampart Street Murder House.”
The infamous Rampart Street Murder House (on the right), 2015. Photo by Roman Eugeniusz, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Recently, Bloody Mary; a local Voodoo priestess, psychic, and tour guide; has opened a haunted museum with patrons touring the upstairs apartment. However, this museum has been the focus of criticism from friends and associates of the young couple who accuse Bloody Mary of exploiting the heinous events.
Through the aftermath of the murder-suicide, some have been left wondering if the young man’s actions may have been influenced by supernatural elements around him. Apparently, the building was known to be haunted prior to the tragedy, and part of the downstairs storefront housed, and continues to house, a Voodoo temple. Dana Matthews writes in a Week in Weird article detailing the building that the priestess who operates the temple is well-respected and blameless in what unfolded in the upstairs apartment.
According to Matthews, a “dark, oppressive force…seems to emanate from the very building itself.” In addition, locals have had a sense of being watched and heard disembodied voices both within and without the home. The house was featured on a 2017 episode of Paranormal Lockdown, where investigators Nick Groff and Katrina Weidman experienced uneasy feelings and strange noises while locked into the apartment over the course of 72 hours.
Sources
“As grisly secret hid, suspect lived it up.” Tampa Bay Tribune. 20 October 2006.
According to Terry Smith and Mark Jean’s detailed history of this property, this house was constructed in 1852 for wealthy sugarcane plantation owner Lucien Mansion. In 1883, the property was deeded to a woman who was reportedly his mistress. After that time, it may have been operated as a brothel.
The home was purchased in 1940 by Leo Marchand and his wife who occupied the house for many years. Mr. Marchand, or “Uncle Leo” as he was affectionately known, passed away in the dining room in 1977, and Smith and Jean attribute the hauntings to his spirit. Several guests have reported encounters with the spirit of an elderly man. One guest awoke to find a man sitting motionless in his room. When he alerted the innkeeper of the mysterious man’s presence, he pointed to a picture of Uncle Leo saying, “that’s him.”
A protest on North Rampart Street, 2017. The Olde Victorian Inn can be seen on the far left with the rust red wall behind the palm tree. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
A maid cleaning another room was startled when the door slammed shut. After the door refused to open, the innkeeper had to summon a contractor to remove the door from its hinges to release the frightened maid. No explanation was ever discovered.
According to Yelp, the inn has since closed.
Sources
Smith, Terry L. and Mark Jean. Haunted Inns of America. Crane Hill Publishers, 2003.
Best Western Plus French Quarter Courtyard Hotel 920 North Rampart Street
A guest here in the 1970s brought two hustlers back to his room one night. When they tried to rob him, he pulled a gun and shot both men to death. See my entry “A hotel on edge” for the complete story.
New Orleans Courtyard Hotel & Suites
1101 North Rampart Street
Two guests of this hotel had an odd experience awaking to find a group of people gathered to watch them sleep. See my post, “Where ghosts are just another service.”
1870 Banana Courtyard Bed & Breakfast
1422 North Rampart Street
A video on YouTube produced by Haunted History Tours covers their investigation of this bed & breakfast. The video includes interviews with the owners, Mary and Hugh Ramsey, recounting that they have had “numerous comments from guests about ghosts.” Mary continued, “We’ve had too many responsible people who have visited us numerous times say that they felt a presence, so I’ve got to believe now that there’s something going on.”
One of the more interesting reports came from a male guest who was napping in his room while his wife was out. He was awakened by the feeling of a warm breath on the back of his neck and a woman whispering in his ear. When he realized it was not his wife, he jolted awake to find himself alone in his room.
The home was built in the 1870s and during its history reportedly served as an upscale brothel and a funeral home. Perhaps lingering spirits from these uses remain.
N.B. This article was originally published 16 June 2016 with North Rampart and Burgundy Streets. This article was edited for clarity 7 November 2020.
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.
Basin Street
Basin Street, or Rue Bassin, was named for the canal turning basin that was once located nearby. This portion of the Carondelet Canal provided a large area for ships to turn around and was filled in in the 1920s when its use declined.
Looking “down the line” of bordellos along Basin Street, probably around the turn of the century. This view is from Iberville Street looking towards St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
In the mid-19th century, Basin Street was a noted residential street though it was overtaken in the 1870s when the fine homes were converted to use as bordellos, saloons, and music halls. The street formed the edge of the famous Storyville, the city’s most prominent red-light district. Basin Street was immortalized by Spencer Williams in his jazz standard, “Basin Street Blues.” Dr. John’s 1992 cover of the song includes a particularly interesting lyric, “I’m tellin’ ya, Basin Street, that’s the street/Where all the ghouls from Storyville and the St. Louis cemetery meet.”
After Storyville’s demise, the fine homes were demolished and replaced by the Iberville Projects.
Sources
Basin Street. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 29 July 2019.
Basin Street Blues. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 29 July 2019.
St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 425 Basin Street
Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1, the first of three such named cemeteries in New Orleans, is the oldest extant cemetery in the city. It opened in 1789 after the St. Peter Street cemetery was closed due to overcrowding and a year after a disastrous fire swept the city. Initially, the dead were buried underground, though this was found impractical after those graves were swamped because of the high water table. Above-ground vaults were found to be the most practical, and the cemetery grew from the ground up.
Basin Street entrance gate to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. Photo by Infrogmation, 2007, courtesy of Wikipedia.
These vaults proved especially useful for holding generations of family members. After a loved one was interred within a vault, it would be opened after a period of time and the human remains cast into a crypt at the bottom while the coffin was usually burned. With this method, many thousands have been buried in this one block cemetery.
Since its opening, the cemetery has come to house a parade of both illustrious and ignoble New Orleanians. Among some of the best names are the great chess player, Paul Morphy, who is associated with the haunted Beauregard-Keyes House; Benjamin Latrobe, architect of the U. S. Capitol Building among many other famous structures; and possibly, Madame Delphine LaLaurie, the infamous mistress of the famous haunted residence on Royal Street.
Perhaps the “Voodoo Queen,” Marie Laveau, is this burial ground’s most famous resident. Believed to have been buried in the tomb of the Glapion family, her grave remains a focal point for paranormal activity, rituals, vandalism, and curious tourists. Tradition holds that Laveau may grant the wish of someone completing a ritual at the tomb. After drawing an X on the tomb, the person is supposed to turn three times, knock on the tomb, yell out their wish, and return if the wish is granted. The X is supposed to be circled and the recipient expected to leave an offering. Thanks to this, the tomb is covered with many X’s and has received other vandalism.
Tomb of Marie Laveau, 2007, by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Visitors to the cemetery have reported seeing a woman wearing a “tignon,” or a seven-knotted handkerchief, near this tomb, who has been identified as Madame Laveau. Tour guide Katherine Smith reports that a guest on one of her tours placed her hand on Laveau’s grave to pray. As she did, she heard a woman’s voice speaking to her. Believing it to be the voice of Laveau, she left an offering and took some photographs. The photographs taken at the tomb were blacked out, despite all the other photographs on that roll of film being fine. There are also reports of visitors encountering the specter of a large black snake near the tomb that may be Zombi, one of Laveau’s pets.
Legends dating to the 1930s speak of cab-drivers avoiding the cemetery for fear of picking up a disappearing hitchhiker who appeared outside the cemetery. It seems that St. Louis No. 1 is home to many restless spirits who are seen walking through the labyrinth of above-ground crypts. One spirit of a man is even said to stop visitors and inquire as to the location of his grave.
Unfortunately, the vandalism of graves and crime in the area has led the Catholic Diocese of New Orleans to make the decision to close the cemetery to individual tourists. Only licensed tour groups can now enter the cemetery.
Sources
Caskey, James. The Haunted History of New Orleans: Ghosts of the French Quarter. Savannah, GA: Manta Ray Books, 2013.
Christovich, Mary Louise. National Register of Historic Places Nomination form for St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. April 1975.
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans, Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican, 2016.
Federal Writers’ Project of the Works Progress Administration. New Orleans City Guide, 1938. Reprint by Garrett County Press, 2009.
Several years before I started this blog in 2010, a series of articles by George Eberhart about haunted libraries was published in the Encyclopedia Britannica Blog. This comprehensive list, still up on the now defunct blog, covers perhaps a few hundred libraries throughout the world with a concentration on the United States. After perusing the list and noting the many Southern libraries missing from the list, I’ve decided to create my own list here.
Like theatres, it seems that every good library has its own ghost. George Eberhart argues that there are two reasons for libraries to be haunted: one, that the library inhabits a building that may have been the scene of a tragedy, or two, that the library may be haunted by a former librarian or benefactor who may continue to watch over it.
Allen J. Ellender Memorial Library Nicholls State University Campus Thibodaux
Nicholls State University opened originally as Francis T. Nicholls Junior College of Louisiana State University in 1948. Eight years later, the school became a separate entity from LSU and developed a four-year curriculum. While the school is relatively young among schools in Louisiana, the campus has proven to be especially paranormally active. Perhaps the echoes of the 1887 Thibodaux massacre, a protest by African-American farm workers in the area which turned violent when whites began to hunt down and kill organizers and participants, may be to blame for this.
The Allen J. Ellender Memorial Library is one of many campus buildings with reported paranormal activity. According to Point of Vue Houma magazine, the spirit of a girl has been seen wandering the floors of Ellender Library. An article in My New Orleans magazine provides the description of the experience a janitor had one night after hearing footsteps coming from a locked librarian’s office. Moments later he watched as a girl with a bookbag, clad in a mini-skirt and with waist-length brown hair, walked through a wall and vanished. Near the spot where the janitor had his encounter, a student later caught a brief video of a shadowy form crossing the room and vanishing.
Sources
Frois, Jeanne. “School spirits in Thibodaux.” My New Orleans. October 2012.
“Local haunts: Fact or Fiction?” Point of Vue Houma. 30 September 2015.
Eunice Public Library 222 South Second Street Eunice
Staff of the Eunice Public Library believe that a spirit may be haunting the building. See my article, “Louisiana Noteworthy Haunts—6/3/2014,” for further information.
Karpeles Manuscript Library Museum 3201 Centenary Boulevard Shreveport
While the Karpeles Manuscript Library Museum is more a museum and less a library, I think it still deserves to be listed here. This museum is one of twelve throughout the country that have been established to display documents from the Karpeles Manuscript Library, one of the largest collections of documents and manuscripts in the world. The collection was created by businessman David Karpeles and his wife and contains many notable historical documents including drafts of the Bill of Rights, the Confederate Constitution, Mozart’s La Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto, and letters from Christopher Columbus.
The Shreveport location is housed within a structure that was constructed as the First Church of Christ, Scientist in the 1920s. The museum has been housed in the old church for roughly 15 years. During that time, museum staff and visitors have had a number of odd experiences including seeing shadow-like apparitions, smelling odd odors, having objects manipulated and moved by unseen hands, and have been touched by or feeling the presence of spirits. Louisiana Spirits Paranormal Investigations, the state’s most prominent paranormal investigation organization, investigated the building on three separate occasions during 2013, though results were mostly inconclusive.
Milton H. Latter Memorial Library 5120 St. Charles Avenue New Orleans
When Hurricane Katrina roared into New Orleans in 2005, some believe that the Latter Memorial Library was spared damage by the diminutive spirit of a former silent film star. Indeed, since the library’s opening in 1948, visitors and staff have seen a “woman-child” spirit, as well as smelling the odor of exotic perfume, and witnessing lights mysteriously flickering within the Italianate mansion.
Marguerite Clark’s former St. Charles Avenue Mansion, now the Milton H. Latter Memorial Library. Photo 2007, by Infrogmation. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
In the heyday of silent film, Marguerite Clark was second only to “America’s Sweetheart,” Mary Pickford in the hearts of moviegoing Americans. The child-like star gained her popularity first on the New York stage, then on film in 1914. At the height of her fame in 1921, she retired from entertainment to live with her husband in their New Orleans mansion (which now houses this library). Clark’s husband was killed in a plane crash in 1938, and the widow moved to New York where she died in 1940. Due to the loss of many of Clark’s films her fame has been overshadowed by other actresses whose films have survived.
Sources
Marguerite Clark. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 23 April 2019.
Opelousas Museum and Interpretive Center 315 North Main Street Opelousas
The building housing the Opelousas Museum has a long and interesting past. It was built in 1935 to house a funeral home and has since hosted a church and the city’s library for about a year. With such a history, and its current use as a repository for relics of the city’s past, there’s little surprise that the building is haunted. Doors open and close by themselves, loud noises issue from empty rooms, and several visitors have sensed such bad vibes that they stop at the museum’s door and refuse to enter.
Williams Research Center 410 Chartres Street New Orleans
Housing the research portion of The Historic New Orleans Collection–a collection of artifacts and archives covering the history of New Orleans and the region–the old Second City Criminal Court and Third District Police Station building still may contain the spirits of police officers and offenders. For further information, please see my article, “Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter-Chartres 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.
Decatur Street
Decatur Street originally ran alongside the levee that protected the city from flooding and was called Rue de la Quai,Rue de la Levee, or Levee Street until 1870 when it was renamed for early American naval hero Stephen Decatur. Until the early 20th century, much of Decatur Street was a working-class and immigrant area with “Upper Decatur Street” (the portion of the street near to Canal Street) serving sailors during their stopovers in port.
Ryan’s Irish Pub
241 Decatur Street
Patrons sitting near the back wall of this popular Irish pub have seen the apparition of an African-American workman. Jeff Dwyer posits that he may be a victim of the fire that swept through this section of the city in December of 1794.
Sources
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans, Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 2017.
Bienville House
320 Decatur Street
This elegant boutique hotel began life in the early 19th century as a rice mill and warehouse. The property was transformed in 1835 into the North American Hotel and has served as a hotel for much of its existence. When Decatur Street began to see revitalization efforts in the mid-20th century, the building was renovated as a private apartment building. In 1972 the Monteleone family, owners of the famed and haunted Hotel Monteleone, purchased the building for use as a hotel again.
According to psychic and paranormal investigator Cari Roy, the Bienville is home to several spirits. One is the wraith of a young woman whom guests have awakened to find standing at their bedside. Often, the guests are unable to move for a moment, though the apparition vanishes after they are released from their momentary paralysis.
Sources
“About Us.” Bienville House. Accessed 16 May 2016.
Roy, Cari. “Haunted Hotels.” Paranormal New Orleans. Accessed 16 May 2016.
Kerry Irish Pub
331 Decatur Street
Ad from The Town Talk of Alexandria, LA, 10 August 1914. This business once occupied the building that now houses the Kerry Irish Pub.
This three-story commercial building was probably constructed in the 19th century. Ads in early 20th century papers show this building was utilized by the Southern Mattress Company, though that does little to explain the cold spots, disembodied footsteps and voices that staff and patrons have encountered within the warm interior of this pub.
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans, Revised Edition. Gretna, LA: Pelican Publishing, 2017.
French Market Inn
509 Decatur Street
Originally a bakery for the Dreux family, this 18th century structure has hosted an inn since the Baroness de Pontalba purchased the property in the 1830s. Reports of ghosts began to surface shortly after the building opened to guests. Shadowy figures slipping in and out of rooms and the sounds of metallic clanging, possibly the same sounds produced by a pulley system that operated in the original bakery, have haunted the inn for its almost 200 years of history.
The 500 Block of Decatur Street, 2007. The gold colored building is the French Market Inn. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Stories of guests waking to find a bloody handprint on their sheets have also surfaced. A paranormal investigator staying in room 218 was kept awake throughout the night by the feeling of unseen presences, an alarm clock going off periodically, her shower turning off and on on its own accord, and bangs and thuds of unknown origin.
Klein, Victor C. New Orleans Ghosts III. Metarie, LA: Lycanthrope Press, 2004.
Tujague’s
823 Decatur Street
The second oldest restaurant in the city after Antoine’s, Tujague’s (pronounced TOO-zhagz) has operated since 1856. Opened by Guillaume Tujague and his wife, Marie Abadie, the restaurant initially served the dock workers and laborers who crowded this neighborhood. For years, the restaurant’s biggest competitor was Beague’s which operated at the corner of Decatur and Madison, on Jackson Square. The owners of both restaurants teamed up and opened the Begue’s space as Tujague’s in 1914.
Tujague’s 2007, by Infrogmation. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
One of the more interesting spirits here is believed to be that of Julian Eltinge, the famous vaudevillian female impersonator. Eltinge always made a point to stop here when he was in town and a photograph of him once graced the dining room. After this photograph was moved to the attic, his image appeared in a selfie taken by some patrons in 2013.
On the second floor, which once housed the kitchen, the sounds of breaking glass and china is sometimes heard. This is thought to be related to a love triangle that existed between Madame Beague, who owned the restaurant, her second husband Hypolite, and a young lady who worked in the kitchen.
Writer Alison Fensterstock notes that the 1100 block of Decatur Street “is a particularly fertile area for haunting,” in her 2009 article, “When Ghosts Attack.” In fact, when she visited Turtle Bay while researching the article, her presence may have riled the restaurant’s resident spirit, “Boudreaux.” When she returned to the restaurant the following day, she discovered that the spirit had thrown a tantrum, throwing a couple knives and a pan in the kitchen. This activity, however, is not limited to visits by writers, the cook explained to Fensterstock that the business’ owner was not liked by the spirit and had once pushed a table into him.
Sources
Fensterstock, Alison. “When Ghosts Attack.” Gambit Weekly. 9 August 2005.
Santos Bar 1135 Decatur Street
Santos, a Rock n’ Roll bar, is the latest of many bars and clubs that have occupied this 19th century building. Spirits here include former patrons and staff members. For further information, see my writeup, “Sipping with Spirits—New Orleans.”
Santos Bar 1135 Decatur Street New Orleans, Louisiana
For years, women have encountered a man in the ladies’ room in this building. In the hedonistic atmosphere of New Orleans, this might not generally be cause for alarm, but when the man stares the women down, they often leave, and notify a staff member. Dutifully, the staff member will check the restroom, though they know the man is only one of the handful of spirits that inhabit this ancient structure. Known as the “Guy in the Bathroom,” the gentleman, wearing a tank top and Jams shorts, is just one of the lost souls remaining here.
Peeling back the layers of history in New Orleans can be a fascinating process. The land upon which Santos Bar is located once was a part of the Ursuline Convent that still stands on the opposite side of the block on Chartres Street. Ursuline sisters from the French city of Rouen arrived in New Orleans in 1727 to establish a hospital and provide education for girls. The sisters were granted a large parcel of land stretching from the river to Chartres Street. This property held an assemblage of structures, several of which were hospital buildings. With the many epidemics of cholera and yellow fever that swept the city in its early years, this site likely saw many deaths.
In the first decades of the 19th century, the convent was moved to a new facility in the Ninth Ward, and the main convent building converted to use as a residence for the bishop of New Orleans while many of the convent’s buildings were demolished to make way for homes and commercial buildings. A series of three-story brick buildings were built along Decatur Street from 1830-1831 called “Ursuline Row.” (see my Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter for more haunted places on Decatur Street) There does seem to be some contention as what buildings were constructed as part of Ursuline Row. Samuel Wilson’s 1959 A Guide to the Architecture of New Orleans includes all buildings in this block facing Decatur Street, though the Historic American Buildings Survey (HABS) only includes Nos. 1107-1133 in their collection; stopping short of including the building at No. 1135. Regardless of if the building was part of Ursuline Row, the current structure was likely built no earlier than the 19th century.
Ursuline Row in June 1936. No. 1135 is in the background towards the right side. Photo taken by Richard Koch for the Historic American Buildings Survey (HABS). Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
For decades the neighborhood around Ursuline Row was a working-class neighborhood inhabited by dock workers, laborers, and immigrants. In the 1930s, saloons and bars opened up along the street and hosted jazz bands. This address was occupied by the Popeye Beer Parlor, which remained open for almost a decade. This would be one of the first of many drinking establishments that would occupy this building.
1135 Decatur Street in 2007 when it was home to The Whirling Dervish. Photo by Infrogmation, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Over the past few decades, this building has played host to a panoply of bars ranging from a lesbian bar, Rubyfruit Jungle, to a well-known underground goth bar, The Crystal, with many variations in between. As I write this, the building is a bar called Santos, run by the same owners of The Saint Bar & Lounge on St. Mary Street (which is also known to be haunted). While the clientele has changed over the years, spirits remain.
A 2009 article (this address was Rubyfruit Jungle when this article was written) on New Orleans bar ghosts notes, however, that the most well-known spirit on the premises was the Guy in the Bathroom. An earlier article, from 2004 when the building was occupied by The Whirling Dervish, looks at more spirits. At this time, the bar was owned by a businessman who also ran a French Quarter haunted history tour, which featured the bar as one of its stops. The article mentions the Guy in the Bathroom, and includes three more spirits, as well as vampires that are rumored to inhabit the shadows here.
One ghost is always seen upstairs and another hangs out where the old DJ booth used to be.
The third is seen outside the bar where he was supposedly murdered when the club was known as The Crystal.
A fourth ghost, the owner at the time of The Crystal was bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat in the upstairs room.
Now his ghost is said to lurk in the upper bar.
I have not been able to locate any information on murders here, though such tragedies in the building’s history are almost par for the course for New Orleans.
In a city where spirits are a hallmark for many establishments, Santos, it seems, is a perfect place to hear good music and sip with spirits.
Sources
Fensterstock, Alison. “When ghosts attack.” Gambit Weekly. 9 August 2005.
Heintzleman, Patricia. National Register of Historic Places Nomination Form for Ursuline Convent. 22 May 1975.
In the past few weeks, several people visiting haunted places here in the South have been photobombed in a spectral fashion. Visitors to St. Francisville, Louisiana’s The Myrtles Plantation and Homestead, Florida’s Hotel Redland have captured images of someone in their photographs, someone who wasn’t physically present when the photos were taken.
Six friends visiting The Myrtles decided to take a group selfie just outside of the house. Upon closer inspection, the photographer noticed the face of a seventh woman peering from behind a window pane behind the group. While all the women in the group are smiling, the women in the window pane appears to be scowling. Photographs of the this nature are easy to fake, so I cannot say this photograph is authentic. Surely, this is not the first photograph taken at The Myrtles to possibly show something spectral. In 2015, I published a photograph taken by an acquaintance that appears to show someone sitting on the staircase.
The Myrtles, 2005, by Bnet504. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Perhaps the most famous haunted places in the country, The Myrtles (7747 US-61, St. Francisville, Louisiana) is a late 18th-century plantation with a tragic history. Of course, much of that tragic history has literally come back to haunt the home. The house is preserved as a museum, bed & breakfast, and haunted attraction. In my opinion, at least some of that tragic history has been created to make the haunting more interesting. I looked into these stories in a blog entry several years ago.
It’s interesting that the other selfie that has been published in the news is from a place that also has a doubtful history. The history of the Hotel Redland (5 South Flagler Avenue, Homestead, Florida) is not as long or as varied as The Myrtles, though it has also left spectral impressions. Those spectral impressions led a friend of a hotel staff member to investigate the hotel recently. During the investigation, the visitor snapped a selfie standing in the lobby. In the selfie, a face appears which the British tabloid, the Daily Mirror, described as resembling the horror movie villain, Michael Myers, from John Carpernter’s movie franchise, Halloween.
My opinion on the photograph is that this is a case of pareidolia, when the brain tries to make sense of something chaotic by finding patterns in it. In this case, light reflected in the window pane creates a “face,” within the reflection.
The first building on this site was constructed in 1904 as a boarding house for railroad employees called the Homestead Inn. This building’s history was rather quiet until the fateful day of November 10, 1913. I’ll allow the Miami Metropolis to take over the story from here:
A few minutes before 2 o’clock in the afternoon the large steam roller, being used in rolling the streets, puffed down in front of the Homestead Inn, and it was only a few seconds later that the roof of the hotel was discovered on fire, having caught from a flying spark from the engine. Soon the entire fire-fighting population of the town was on the scene, and all efforts were brought to bear to save the burning building, but to no avail. However, the furnishings were carried to safety and the loss of the building is just about covered by insurance.
Flames spread to five adjoining buildings destroying several other businesses. The paper ends the article by mentioning that a fire caused by sparks from the same steamroller had damaged the city’s other hotel across the street that morning. “It is likely that some action will be taken to curb the chances of another such conflagration starting from the same cause.”
Hotel Redland, 2011, by Ebyabe. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
While the damage to the structure led to much of it being rebuilt, the story of this dramatic fire continued to be told and expanded. The story of the fire as told now sets the scene late at night where the fire takes the lives of a number of guests soundly asleep in their rooms. These same guests now haunt the hotel.
An article in the August 16thMiami New Times detailed a paranormal investigation of the hotel by the South Florida team of PRISM Miami, lead by investigator David Rodriguez. That article hints at the hotel actually being haunted, though the details are somewhat vague.
Sources
“Business section of Homestead wiped out in big fire Monday.” Miami Metropolis. 11 November 1913.
Beauregard Parish Jail 205 West First Street DeRidder, Louisiana
Joe Genna’s last hours were full of pain and misery just as the last moments of J. J. Brevelle’s life had been. On the fateful evening of August 28, 1926, Genna and Molton Brasseaux robbed and beat Brevelle, a 43-year-old cab driver, on the outskirts of DeRidder and dumped his body in a mill pond. As he awaited hanging within the Gothic confines of the Beauregard Parish Jail, Genna tried to take his own life by swallowing several poison pills. The Shreveport Times takes up the story:
Genna, pale and haggard and apparently deathly ill from the effects of the several poison tablets he swallowed in his cell Thursday night, required the assistance of deputy sheriffs to walk from his cell to the death chamber. The deputies supported him while he stood to make his statement of repentance and express willingness to die. Friday he repented of his act for having attempted to take his life.
The paper notes that at 12:54 on Friday afternoon, March 9, 1928, Genna “mounted the scaffold at the Beauregard parish jail and was dead five minutes later of a broken neck. Molton Brasseaux walked to the same scaffold to meet his death about twenty minutes later.”
The hangings of Genna and Brasseaux took place under the auspices of the stumpy Gothic central tower of the Beauregard Parish Jail. While the “Collegiate Gothic” architecture of the building has been deemed the most fanciful of all the jails in the state, it still lends a cruel sense of ominousness to the building squatting on its haunches next to the proudly standing Beaux-Arts courthouse. Under the jail’s foreboding tower, a circular staircase rises with cells off each round. Hangings could be conducted here allowing for the whole of the jail’s population to witness the death-drop of the convicted. This horrifying feature was used this one time, though it did lend a nickname to the building, the “Hanging Jail.”
Beauregard Parish Jail, 2005. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
For a little over a hundred years these two siblings, the beautiful courthouse and the ugly jail, have existed side by side. Constructed for the newly established Beauregard Parish in 1914, the courthouse continues to operate while the jail is vacant, save for tourists, spirits, spirit-hunters, and memories, having been replaced by a new facility in 1984.
The day of the hanging in 1928, schoolchildren were witness to a pair of black wicker coffins being carried from the jail, though the pair of convicts may not have left spiritually. In 2006, the state’s most notable paranormal investigative organization, Louisiana Spirits Paranormal Investigations, explored the jail. The group did detect some activity that was unexplained as well as having some personal experiences hearing footsteps and flowing water. During their second investigation, the group’s report notes that many of the windows are open thus allowing ambient noise from the street to filter in, which may be mistaken for paranormal activity.
More recent investigations have captured even more compelling evidence. During one investigation, an investigator asked “Do you know that you’re dead?” and recorded the response, “I’m alive. I’m alive.” A photographer taking photos of the jail a few years ago may have captured the image of a jailer sitting on the porch. Starting last year, the jail has been opened at night during the Halloween season allowing visitors to explore the building in the dark.
Scribbled on the wall of a cell, graffiti reveals that at least one inmate expected to remain in this dark place forever: “Here inside these chambers of death I will dwell forever more. I lost my heart, my mind and my soul just because of a bolted door.”
‘Twas the night before Halloween and all through the blog, little was stirring…
This move from Blogger to this new site has been tedious and time-consuming. I’ve tossed out a great deal of junky posts and put many posts aside that need to be updated and refreshed leaving me with many bits and pieces that should be republished in a different context. This is a selection of recycled pieces for Halloween.
East Coast/West Coast 138 St. George Street St. Augustine, Florida
This modest commercial building once housed Kixie’s Men’s Store and some odd activity. The shop employed a young tailor, Kenneth Beeson who would later serve as mayor for the city. While working late one evening he noticed a door opening by itself followed by the sweet scent of funereal flowers. After experiencing odd activity for a while, Beeson put out a tape recorder and set it to record just before he left. When he returned the following morning, he was shocked to discover a plethora of sounds including marching feet and guttural growls. Disturbed by these incidents, Beeson had a priest exorcise the building. The activity ceased.
Sources
Cain, Suzy & Dianne Jacoby. A Ghostly Experience: Tales of St. Augustine, Florida. City Gate Productions, 1997.
Lapham, Dave. Ghosts of St. Augustine. Sarasota, FL: Pineapple Press, 1997.
Western & Atlantic Railroad Tunnel Chetoogeta Mountain Tunnel Hill, Georgia
As the railroad spread its tentacles throughout the nation before the tumult of the Civil War, a route was needed from Augusta, Georgia to Chattanooga, Tennessee. Numerous obstacles stood in the way, but the biggest was Chetoogeta Mountain. Plans for a railroad tunnel dated to the second half of the 1830s, but work did not commence until 1848 with work completed two years later. The new tunnel was instrumental in Atlanta’s growth as a railroad hub and was a strategic feature for the Confederacy to protect during the Civil War.
The tunnel’s strategic importance led to a series of skirmishes being fought here leading up to the Battle of Atlanta. Following the war, the tunnel remained in service until 1928 when a new tunnel was built a few yards away. The old tunnel became overgrown with kudzu and was largely forgotten until 1992 when preservationists fought to save the tunnel. It is now the centerpiece of a park that features reenactments of the skirmishes fought at the site.
Entrance to the old Western & Atlantic Railroad Tunnel, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell, IV, All rights reserved.
It is often re-enactors who have encountered anything supernatural at the site. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the number of documented accounts of spirits at Tunnel Hill. At least four books and a handful of good articles document the high levels of activity at this site. Accounts include the apparitions of soldiers seen both inside the tunnel and around it. Ghostly campfires, disembodied screams, spectral lantern light and the smell of rotting flesh (minus the presence of actual rotting flesh) have all been reported by re-enactors and visitors alike.
Sources
DeFeo, Todd. “Antebellum railroad tunnel still a marvel after all These years.” com. 22 June 2009.
Kotarski, Georgiana C. Ghosts of the Southern Tennessee Valley. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2006.
Underwood, Corinna. Haunted History: Atlanta and North Georgia. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2008.
Western and Atlantic Railroad Tunnel. Tunnel Hill Heritage Center. Accessed 28 November 2010.
Old Talbott Tavern 107 West Stephen Foster Avenue Bardstown, Kentucky
Old Talbott Tavern, 2008, by C. Bedford Crenshaw. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Continuously open since the late 18th century except for a period in the late 1990s when the tavern was being renovated following a disastrous fire, the Old Talbott Tavern has hosted an impressive array of visitors ranging from Daniel Boone to General George Patton. Perhaps one of the famous guests who has never checked out is outlaw Jesse James who stayed frequently in the tavern while visiting his cousin who was the local sheriff. With the claims of Jesse James’ spirit which may also roam the halls of Selma, Alabama’s St. James Hotel, James’ spirit may split the hereafter between two favorite locales. But James’ spirit is not the only spirit acting up in the Old Talbott Tavern. Other ghosts may include formers guests, owners and their families.
Old Louisiana State Capitol 100 North Boulevard Baton Rouge, Louisiana
When the state capitol was moved from New Orleans to Baton Rouge in 1846, the city donated land atop a bluff over the Mississippi for the capitol building. Architect James Dakin designed a Neo-Gothic building very much unlike the other state capitols which were often modeled on the U.S. Capitol building in Washington. The magnificent crenellated and be-towered structure was used as a prison and garrison for soldiers under the city’s Union occupation and during this time it caught fire twice leaving it a soot-stained shell by the war’s end. The building was reconstructed in 1882 but abandoned in 1932 for Governor Huey Long’s new state capitol.
Old State Capitol, 2009, by Avazina. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Even before the capitol burned during the war, there was a ghost gliding through its halls. Pierre Couvillon, a legislator representing Avoyelles Parish, enraged by his colleagues’ corruption, suffered a heart attack and died. Though he was buried in his home parish, his spirit was said to reside in the capitol; perhaps checking up on his colleagues. When the capitol building underwent restoration in the 1990s, the spirit or spirits in the building were stirred up and activity has increased. Staff members and visitors have reported odd occurrences. One security guard watched as movement detectors were set off through a series of rooms while nothing was seen on the video.
Two organizations investigated the building in 2009 and uncovered much evidence. Louisiana Spirits Paranormal Investigations picked up a number of interesting EVPs including someone singing the old song, “You Are My Sunshine.” Everyday Paranormal, in their investigation had a few encounters in the basement of the building, the area used as a prison during the Union occupation. It seems that there are many spirits within the crenellated walls of the Old Capitol.
Sources
Duvernay, Adam. “Several Baton Rouge sites said to be haunted.” The Daily Reveille. 27 October 2009.
Dwyer, Jeff. Ghost Hunter’s Guide to New Orleans. Gretna, LA: Pelican, 2007.
Louisiana Spirits Paranormal Investigations. Old State Capitol, Baton Rouge, LA. Accessed 11 November 2011.
Southeastern Students. “Old State Capitol Still Occupied by Former Ghosts.” com. 29 October 2009.
Jericho Covered Bridge Jericho Road at Little Gunpowder Falls Harford County Near Jerusalem, Maryland
Jericho Covered Bridge, 2009, by Pubdog. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Straddling the county line between Harford County and Baltimore County over the Little Gunpowder Falls is the Jericho Covered Bridge, constructed in 1865. According to Ed Okonowicz in his Haunted Maryland, there are legends of people seeing slaves hanging from the rafters inside this nearly 88-foot bridge. Certainly, there is an issue with this as the bridge was constructed in 1865, after the end of both slavery and the Civil War. Other, more realistic legends, speak of a woman seen on the bridge wearing old-fashioned clothing and people having their cars stop inexplicably in the middle of the bridge.
Varhola, Michael J. and Michael H. Varhola. Ghosthunting Maryland. Cincinnati, OH: Clerisy Press, 2009.
Corinth Battlefield Corinth, Mississippi
Following the Confederate’s disastrous attack in April of 1862 on the Union forces at Shiloh, Tennessee (for a battle description see my entry on the Beauregard-Keyes House in New Orleans), the Union army laid siege for two days to the vital railroad town of Corinth, just over the state line. To save his army from annihilation, General P.T.G. Beauregard gave the appearance of reinforcement troops arriving and being put in place while efficiently moving his troops out of the city to nearby Tupelo. The Union army entered the city the following day to find it devoid of Confederates. In October of the same year, Confederates tried once again and failed to capture the city losing some 4,000 men (including dead, wounded and missing) in the process.
The railroad junction at the heart of Corinth. Photo 2013, by Ron Cogswell. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
The battlefield on which these two battles were fought is now incorporated into the mid-sized city of Corinth. Portions of the battlefield and earthworks are now preserved as the Corinth unit of Shiloh National Military Park. As one might expect, some of those portions have spiritual artifacts remaining. Some of the best stories from Civil War battlefields come from re-enactors who have experiences while re-enacting battles and one of the primary reports of ghosts from the Corinth battlefield comes from a re-enactor whose story was documented by Alan Brown. This particular re-enactor heard the sound of a phantom cavalry and a few nights later, the sound of someone rummaging through her tent while camping on the battlefield.
Sources
Brown, Alan. Stories from the Haunted Southland. Jackson, MS: University Press of Mississippi, 2004.
Siege of Corinth. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 27 January 2011.
North Carolina Zoological Park 4401 Zoo Parkway Asheboro, North Carolina
North Carolina lawyer and folklorist Daniel Barefoot has done much to preserve North Carolina and Southern legends and ghost stories in his books. His series, North Carolina’s Haunted Hundred provides a single ghost story or legend from each of the state’s one hundred counties. From Randolph County, smack dab in the middle of the state, comes the legend of the aptly named, Purgatory Mountain, now home to the NC Zoo. The state-owned zoo is the largest walk-through habitat zoos in the world and a major attraction in the region.
NC Zoo sign, 2010, by Eleazar. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
During the Civil War, much of rural North Carolina was resistant to seceding from the Union and, as a result, the state was the final state to secede. Still, many citizens, including the peaceable Quakers of Randolph County resisted joining the butternut ranks. Recruiters were sent to these areas to nudge and sometimes force the inhabitants to join. One particular recruiter in this area earned the nickname, “The Hunter,” for his harsh methods. He rounded up a group of Quaker boys, tied them roughly and marched them to Wilmington to join the army, but a few escaped and returned, bedraggled to their rural homes. When the recruiter returned, this group of escaped boys shot him outside of his cabin at Purgatory Mountain. His malevolent spirit is still supposedly stalking the crags of his mountain home.
Sources
Barefoot, Daniel W. North Carolina’s Haunted Hundred, Vol. 2: Piedmont Phantoms. Winston-Salem, NC, John F. Blair, 2002.
North Carolina Zoo. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 11 April 2012.
Carter House 1140 Columbia Avenue Franklin, Tennessee
By some accounts, the Battle of Franklin, November 30, 1864, was one of the bloodiest battles of the war. Some historians have even deemed it the “Gettysburg of the South.” Fought right on the edge of the town of Franklin, the battle hit very close to the home front and absolutely hammered the farm of the Carter family which was located at the center of the main defensive line. During the furious fighting, the Carters, neighbors and slaves cowered in the basement of the house, emerging after the battle to witness the carnage spread through their yard and around their house. The house and outbuildings still bear bullet holes, attesting to their experience.
Fanny Courtney Carter, who was 8 years old when the battle overtook her family’s farm, later recalled the day following the battle: “Early the next morning after the Battle I went to the field. The sight was dreadful. It seemed I could scarcely move for fear of stepping on men either dead or wounded. Some were clod and stiff, others with the lifeblood ebbing out, unconscious of all around, while others were writing in agony and calling ‘Water! Water!’ I can hear them even now.” Fanny’s brother, Tod, who had enlisted in the Confederate army was found some yards from the house, his body riddled with eight bullets, but still clinging to life. The family brought him into the parlor of his home where he died on December 2.
Carter House by Hal Jesperson, 2009. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
The pastoral fields that once surrounded the Carter House as well as the town of Franklin that saw so much blood that November day have mostly been lost to development though the spiritual imprint of the battle is still felt throughout the city. The spirit of Tod Carter may be one of the more active spirits at the Carter House. He has been seen sitting on the edge of the bed where he may have died and according to Alan Brown, he took a tour of the house, correcting the tour guide when she didn’t use the correct name or date and disappearing before he and the guide could descend to the basement.
Apparently he’s not the only lingering spirit. Poltergeist activity in the house has been attributed to Tod’s sister, Annie. Objects have moved from room to room and one visitor on a tour watched a figurine that jumped up and down.
Sources
Battle of Franklin (2009). Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 13 December 2010.
Brown, Alan. Haunted Tennessee: Ghosts and Strange Phenomena Of the Volunteer State. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole, 2009.
Rockledge Mansion 440 Mill Street Occoquan, Virginia
The town website for Occoquan (pronounced OK-oh-qwahn), Virginia states that the city, “has an inordinate amount of spooks per capita” and then goes on to list a number of locations in the town with ghosts. Among this remarkable collection of haunted locations is the magnificent Georgian mansion, Rockledge, which commands a literal rock ledge above Mill Street. The town was founded in the mid-eighteenth century as a port on the Occoquan River and during the Civil War this northern Virginia town served as a post office between the North and the South.
Rockledge Mansion by AlbertHerring, 2008. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Quite possibly the work of colonial architect, William Buckland, Rockledge was built in 1758 by local industrialist John Ballandine. In the yard of this house the ghost of a Confederate soldier has been seen and possibly heard. One witness saw the soldier then noticed peculiar wet footprints on the front steps that appeared to be from hobnail boots, the kind that would have been worn by soldiers during the war. Many people have heard loud footsteps in the house as well as someone knocking at the door. So far, no source has identified this soldier.
Sources
Occoquan History. com. Accessed 16 November 2010.
Occoquan, Virginia. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 13 December 2010.
Streng, Aileen. “Benevolent ghost believed to haunt mansion.” com. 27 October 2010.
Virginia Historic Landmarks Commission. National Register of Historic Places Nomination Form for Rockledge Mansion. Listed 25 June 1973.
Berkeley Castle WV-9 Berkeley Springs
Berkeley Castle by Jeanne Mozier. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Berkeley Springs, also known as “Bath,” has attracted visitors who come to take the waters of the mineral springs located there. Overlooking this quaint town from a commanding position on Warm Spring Mountain sits Berkeley Castle, seemingly a piece of medieval Britain transplanted. Modeled and named after Britain’s own Berkeley Castle, the castle was built as a wedding gift from Colonel Samuel Suit for his bride, Rosa Pelham. The Colonel, who was quite a bit older than his bride, died before the castle was finished and his widow finished the building. She lived in the castle after his death and squandered the fortune she inherited and died penniless well away from the castle, but legends speak of her return.
The castle was purchased by paranormal investigators in 2000 but sold fairly shortly after that. Once open for tours, the castle is now primarily a private residence, though it may be rented for weddings, parties and other events.
Sources
Fischer, Karin. “Castle in Eastern Panhandle could be in need of a new lord this spring.” Charleston (WV) Daily Mail. 21 November 2000.
History Berkeley Castle. Berkeley Castle. Accessed 19 March 2011.
Robinson, James Foster. A Ghostly Guide to West Virginia. Winking Eye Books, 2008.
…for I doubt if there is another building in the while South that has been the theatre of more mental travail. Do you remember Hugo’s ‘Last Days of a Condemned Man?’ That horrible drama has been enacted over and over again inside its walls. And think of the desperate men who have taken their lives in its cells, and the other desperate men who have lain awake at night plotting escape. The old place has held the concentrated essence of every human emotion—hope, fear, rage, grief, remorse.
— “By the By!” The Times-Democrat 23 October 1899
The Ninth Precinct Prison once humbly squatted behind the Greek Revival magnificence of the CARROLLTON COURTHOUSE (719 South Carrollton Avenue). Originally the seat of justice for Carrollton while it was a part of Jefferson Parish, the courthouse and jail were designed by Henry Howard, a noted New Orleans architect, and constructed in 1855. When the burgeoning city of New Orleans absorbed Carrollton in 1874 the courthouse was transformed into a school while the jail remained open just steps from studious children, staffed by officers from the New Orleans Police Department.
After complaints from worried parents, the ancient jail was torn down in 1937 while the courthouse building remained an elementary school until the 1950s when it became Benjamin Franklin Senior High School. The high school had outgrown the old courthouse building by the late 1980s and a new building was constructed for the high school. The courthouse again became an elementary school and was in use until 2013. The courthouse building has been abandoned since that time and was listed by the National Trust for Historic Preservation to its list of 11 Most Endangered Historic Places.
Old Carrollton Courthouse from W.H. Parish’s Art Work of New Orleans, 1895.
At the back of the old courthouse building where the jail once stood is now occupied by school trailers with no sign to indicate the inhumane building that once occupied that space. In this place criminals were locked away in dank cells some spending their last days here before they transcended this plane in the execution yard. It’s no wonder that stories began to pour forth from this building towards the end of the 19th century telling of spectral experiences and uncanny events. The Times-Democrat devoted a little more than two columns of space to the experiences of the “peculiarly level-headed and unimaginative” officers working there:
“I can tell what has happened easily enough,” said Sergeant Clifton, “but explain it, I can’t. I have been on duty here about a year and a half, and we have been bothered off and on, from the start by strange noises, things falling without apparent cause, and other unaccountable disturbances. Lately they have grown worse. Here in my office our attention was first attracted to that old sofa in the corner. Frequently at night one of the men would lie down on it to rest, and invariably something queer would happen. Sometimes the man would be thrown off violently, sometimes he would feel hands touching him, and several times the sofa would be moved bodily several feet from the wall. Strangers here have had the same experience. We have never been able to find any clew [sic] to the cause. Some weeks ago I was sitting one evening at my desk reading, when suddenly my chair was whirled entirely around. I was quite alone and several lights were burning brightly in the room. I was simply dumfounded, and all I can do now is to give you the facts. As I said before, the explanation is beyond me.
“A few nights later, I was talking to Corporal Perez, when a large picture of Gen. Beauregard, hanging on the wall above the washstand, came crashing down, and at the same instant, the stand itself, bowl and pitcher, were apparently hurled forward and struck the floor several feet away. Strange to say, nothing was broken, and oddest of all, the cord of the picture was intact and the nail on which it hung was as firm as ever. We had been talking about Beauregard during the evening and the coincidence startled us greatly. Next night the mirror, below where the picture had been, fell in exactly the same manner. That time the washbowl was broken. I have since placed the picture and looking glass elsewhere, and they have not been molested any further. These things occurred right before our eyes, under the glare of the electric light.
“One evening last week,” he went on, “two gentlemen and a lady dropped in to pay me a visit. While the men were sitting on the sofa talking, the lady arose and leaned against the wall. A moment afterward she staggered forward, crying out that some one had given her a violent push. We were all astonished, and in explaining to us what happened she again leaned against the wall and again bounded away exactly as if she had received a sudden thrust against the shoulders. She was greatly excited and alarmed, and it was some time before we could quiet her. There is the large bare brick wall; you can see for yourself how impossible it was for any trick to have been played. The lady had never heard of the ghosts.”
The most remarkable story of all is told by the head doorman, C.W. Foster. Officer Foster is a man of middle age, quiet, well educated and intelligent. He has been on duty at the jail about eight months.
“I heard all sorts of strange noises frequently,” he said, “and more than once searched the place from top to bottom trying to discover what caused them. But the first time I actually saw anything was one afternoon last July. The sergeant had stepped out, and I was occupied with something in the clerk’s office on the other side of the passage. The doors are on a line, and I could see through in the opposite room. Presently I looked up and was astonished to see two women standing by Sergeant Clifton’s desk. They were holding themselves very erect, looking straight toward me, and their stiff, unnatural attitude struck me as strange. Still I thought they were merely visitors, who had slipped in without my noticing them. They were young and both wore dresses of some sort of spotted stuff. They impressed me as being very light-skinned negresses.
“I got up, never taking my eyes from the pair, and started across the passage. Just as I was entering the other room both figures vanished. It was so sudden, so absolutely inexplicable, that I couldn’t believe my senses, and stood here for a moment literally paralyzed with amazement. The sun was shining brightly, the room was perfectly light and I was never in better health. It was hard for me to believe the appearance was an hallucination, yet there was no way in the world for the women to have left the room, for there was only one door, in which I stood. I never saw the women before or afterward.
Old Carrollton Jail, c. 1900.
“My next experience was even more startling. It was in the evening, and, as before, the sergeant’s room was temporarily vacant, while I was engaged in the clerk’s office. Lights were burning everywhere, and several men were in the building. When I got through my work in the office I stepped into the passage and happening to glace into the other room, I saw Sergeant Shoemaker, who died a year ago last July, standing between the desk and the sofa. I knew Shoemaker intimately for years, and there is absolutely no possibility of my being mistaken. He had charge of this jail up to the time of his death. The figure I saw was perfectly distinct and solid, and was in the full light of an incandescent lamp. His head was slightly bent, as if he was in a brown study, and he was walking slowly toward the sofa. While I stood there staring at him he vanished precisely as the two women had vanished. It was like snuffing out a candle—one instant he was there and the next instant he was gone.
“I admit frankly that I was frightened,” continued Officer Foster. “I never received such a shock in my life, but I forced myself somehow to go into the room. It was perfectly empty. I have seen nothing since, but hardly a day or night passes without noises and other manifestations. We have about ceased to pay attention to them.”
Mr. Joseph Crowley, the night clerk and operator, has had his full share of uncanny experience. When he was assigned to duty at the precinct he made a good deal of sport of the current ghost stories, but he soon witnessed enough to thoroughly puzzle him. One night last month, as he tells the story, he was at his desk writing, when something prompted him to look up, and he saw a tall, dark-bearded stranger standing outside the railed inclosure [sic]. The man look ill and thin, and was dressed in black. Mr. Crowley was about to inquire his business when the stranger glided away toward the door. Remembering the ghost stories, and sure that a trick was being played, he sprang through the gate and rushed towards the figure, which disappeared in the hall. He was only two steps behind, but the hall was empty. There was no egress except past the doorman, who was on duty, and not one of the several officers on the floors had seen a soul. They made an instant and thorough search of the building, but could find no trace of the mysterious visitor. He had vanished like a feat in conjuring.
A few nights afterward Clerk Crowley was again in the office, talking with Patrolman Edward Harrison and George Shafe, when the pale, bearded stranger suddenly appeared in the door. That time he was seen by all three of the men at about the same instant, and they rushed toward him with one accord. Exactly what happened they have some difficulty in explaining. As before, the strange man glided backward into the hall, passed into a little patch of shadow and that was the last of him. They ran over the very spot where he had been, questioned the doorkeeper, ransacked the building and searched the garden with lights from one end to the other, but all in vain.
Officer Harrison is a very practical, common sense type of man. He is perhaps fifty years old, but still active, and is tall and strongly built. He has a stern, aquiline face, and talks briefly and to the point.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” he said yesterday. “That’s all nonsense, and there must be some explanation for these things. Still I don’t know what it is, and the best I can do is to state exactly what I witnessed. I saw the man with a beard. He simply appeared and disappeared, and where he went to I have no idea. It was the quickest thing I ever looked at. We made a very thorough search, and I’m certain he was not hidden about the house. I never saw the man before, but his face was very peculiar, and I would know it in a thousand. Yes, I have heard noises and footsteps—frequently. What causes them is a mystery. We’ve tried out best to find out, but have so far failed. All the same I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Mr. Crowley not only saw the phantoms, but felt them. He states that he was seated at his desk on another occasion when something that seemed like a cold hand gripped him by the neck. For an instant he was too startled to move, but at the first struggle he was released and whirling around found himself alone. The clock stood exactly at 3 a.m.
The sound of heavy footsteps in the hall and corridor has been heard at different times by nearly all the officers about the building. In conversation yesterday Corporal Harry Hyatt described that particular manifestation.
“I have heard it twice,” he said. “It sounded exactly as if some powerful man had entered the front door and walked as far as the office. On both occasions I ran out immediately and no one was there. The footfalls were as distinct as anything I ever heard in my life.”
Sometimes the sound of walking comes from the courtroom up stairs, where there was formerly a row of four “condemned cells,” used for confining prisoners under sentence of death. One night, when the noises from that quarter were particularly loud, several officers went up to investigate and were amazed to see the heavy docket fly through the air from the judge’s desk. It struck the floor with a crash audible all over the building, but what propelled it they were never able to find out. One of those who had an experience with the sofa, which seems to be the storm centre [sic], so to speak, of the sergeant’s room, was Driver Dell of the patrol wagon. He went in to get a bit of rest, and had no sooner stretched himself out then the sofa moved from the wall fully a yard and then moved back again. The motion was gentle, as if the legs were on well-oiled wheels, but the startled driver did not tarry from another ride. He sprang to his feet and sought his rest in another part of the building.
Many of the manifestations reported about the old building are perfectly meaningless and grotesque, and paradoxical as it may seem, they derive a certain impressiveness from that very fact. The theory of trickery presupposes more or less of a coherent plan, and it is hard to associate it with things that have no apparent purpose. For example, mounted officer Jules Aucoin went to the sergeant’s room at about 11 o’clock last Wednesday night to make a report. Glued to the wall above the fireplace is a large colored lithograph of Admiral Dewey, and as Aucoin entered he was surprised beyond measure to see the picture seemingly turning round and round like a wheel. He called to some of the others, but before they could get there the lithograph was still again. Many kindred stories are told. In one corner of the clerk’s office is a small ledge on which several books are kept. Lying on them were two large weights, such as are used by grocers. A few nights ago the weights described a curve through space and came crashing down on the floor. Several officers witnessed the occurrence, but nobody is able to offer any explanation. Now and then different articles of furniture act as if they are bewitched, tumbling about, shifting their places and echoing to invisible blows. Everybody in the station has been under suspicion as a practical joker, but nowadays that theory has been pretty thoroughly abandoned.
One night last week, a colored man named Charles Marquez was arrested on a capias issued by Judge Duggan on the charge of contempt of court and locked until morning in cell No. 3. When the doorman came to release him, he was a pitiable object. He was shaking with fright and declared that he had been tormented all night long by things he could not see. Viewless hands hauled him about the floor, snatched away his blankets whenever he spread them to lie down, and kept up and incessant rattling at his lock. A score or more of times he felt cold fingers drawn across his face, and from the patter of footfalls in the dark, he could have sworn he had a dozen companions. Such was the man’s story. He was unusually intelligent, and however he may have embroidered the narrative, there was no gainsaying the fact that he was half dead with terror. Something had certainly played havoc with his rest.
Cell 3, by the way, has an evil name. There is no particular legend connected with it, but most of the mysterious noises in that end of the building seem to have their origin there, and many other prisoners have reported experiences more or less resembling that of Marquez.
The author of the article ends by noting that the reports from the jail should be further investigated by the Society of Psychical Research out of London. The author was so insistent of this that in an article published in the same paper two days later, he (I’m assuming this is the same author, though bylines in papers were not common at that time) recounts a conversation about the case and a discussion of the Society’s investigation techniques.
As for the activity at the old jail, a few other sources state that a vague figure was seen as the building was torn down in 1937. The blog Seeks Ghosts notes that a strange figure is still seen in the area of the building.
The French Quarter has been lived in and died in; human energy has been manifested continuously and freely for 250 years. Where we find presently a sedate restaurant, we would have found—20 years ago, 50 years ago, 100 years ago or more—a dry goods store, a grocery, a saloon, a coffeehouse, a patisserie, an apothecary, a gambling joint, a silversmith, a printer, a jeweler, a letter-writer, a whorehouse, a bank. They may have disappeared along with their proprietors, but they’ve left behind an aura that infuses the atmosphere.
–Andy Peter Antippas, A Guide to the Historic French Quarter (History & Guide). 2013.
New Orleans’ French Quarter—the Vieux Carré to locals—is among a handful of locales in the South that possesses a high concentration of haunted places. Encompassing nearly two-thirds of a square mile (.66 to be exact), the French Quarter has been said to have spirits in nearly every building and site. Even looking at the documented hauntings here, the number is quite impressive.
The French Quarter is generally defined as the section stretching from Canal Street to Esplanade Avenue and from the Mississippi River northwest to North Rampart Street. This section of the city is where the city was originally founded by the French in 1718. With buildings and sites spanning three centuries, the French Quarter is easily the most paranormally active neighborhood in the entire city.
This series of articles is meant to act as a street by street guide to those hauntings. While some of these stories have gained quite a bit of notoriety in the literature, like Royal Street’s LaLaurie Mansion, and Bourbon Street’sLafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, some stories have only been explored in the literature once or twice. This is an attempt to synthesize information from the many sources that exist on the French Quarter into a succinct guide.
Antippas, Andy Peter. A Guide to the Historic French Quarter (History & Guide). Charleston SC, Arcadia Publishing, 2013. Kindle Edition.
Jackson Square, bounded by Decatur, Chartres, St. Peter, and St. Ann Streets. Behind the statue is St. Louis Cathedral with The Cabildo on the left and the Presbytere on the right. All three buildings are haunted. See the entry for Chartres Street for further information. Photo by Sammi99tr, 2009, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Street Guide to the Phantoms of the French Quarter
N.B. The streets that are not linked do not yet have guides. Check back here soon for those guides to be created.
