Cottage Plantation
The Cottage was built in 1824 by Colonel Abner Duncan as a wedding gift for his daughter and her husband, Frederick Daniel Conrad. The house had 22 rooms and was considered one of the finest in the River Road area. Visitors to the house included such notables as Jefferson Davis, Henry Clay, Zachary Taylor, and the Marquis de Lafayette. The Conrad family itself had esteemed beginnings, tracing its ancestry to George and Martha Washington. In the years before the Civil War, life was very good at the Cottage. They imported furniture, collected a fortune in jewelry and amassed great wealth. In the 1850's, another man came to live at the Cottage, a traveling teacher named Holt, who would become the private tutor to the Conrad children and Frederick Conrad's personal secretary. Holt became a part of the Conrad family and lived there happily until war came.
Life, after the beginning of the Civil War, changed forever. The Union Army took over the Cottage and removed everything that could be found of value, from horses to furniture to jewelry to even the clothing of the children. The troops occupied the plantation and held the family prisoner, being especially brutal with Frederick Conrad and his secretary, Mr. Holt. After the troops left, the family abandoned the house and it was taken over and used as a hospital for Union soldiers with yellow fever. In the years that followed, this is probably what saved it from being destroyed by vandals. Many had died from the disease in the house and were buried on the grounds.... the fear that the sickness lingered kept many people away.
A few years later, Frederick Conrad died in New Orleans and Holt returned to the abandoned Cottage. He was a changed man, becoming a recluse, spending all of his time trying to repair the old house for what remained of the Conrad family, most of whom had been his students. He stooped shaving and was seen wandering the grounds of the Cottage with a long, white beard. Many local people avoided him, but they could never forget the wonderful man that he had once been and made frequent gifts of food to sustain him while he stayed on at the house. When Holt finally died, friends went through his many trunks and found huge quantities of books and clothing, along with moldy half-eaten biscuits and portions of meals. Holt had taken to walking about the house at night, reliving the happier times in the house, and as he walked, he would munch on biscuits and meat and then throw the uneaten portion into one of his trunks.
Holt was taken away and lovingly buried in a local cemetery. The Conrad children would never forget what the man had meant to them.... but had he really left the Cottage?
As the years passed, the Cottage again stood empty. People who lived nearby said it was haunted. No one would go near the house after dark, fearing that Holt's ghost was still there. There were reports of doors opening and slamming by themselves and sightings of apparitions on the grounds. These shadowy figures were often seen, but when investigated, the place was found to be empty.
In the 1920's, the Conrad family began a restoration of the house. Luckily, thanks to the rumors of ghosts and yellow fever, the house had managed to survive fairly intact throughout the years. In the 1950's, the house was opened to the public and served as a museum to the memory of the Old South. It attracted a great deal of interest and artists came from all over the world to capture the flair of the south before the Civil War. It was also used at the set for several movies, including Cinerama Holiday and Band of Angels, starring Clark Gable.
During these days, the rumors of ghosts still persisted. Some visitors would report the sounds of singing and strange music in the house and on the grounds. It seems that in the heyday of the house, before the war, the Conrads would often entertain their guests by having their slaves sing for them and play music. Now, nearly a century later, the sounds of that music could still be heard at the house, a residual and ghostly echo from another time.
Other visitors had their own encounters... with Mr. Holt. He was said to be seen walking through the house, pulling at his long beard and mumbling to himself. One reporter for the Elks Magazine even photographed the ghost by accident. He was doing a story about the Cottage and after having his film developed, he noticed the image of an old man looking out the window. He was sure that no one had been there at the time and after showing it the staff members at the house.... they identified the man as Mr. Holt!
Chretienne Point
The tract of land upon which Chretienne Point stands was purchased from the Spaniards in 1800 by Hypolyte Chretienne, a French colonist, who built the house and started a cotton plantation. In the building of his wealth, he became friends with the notorious smuggler and pirate, Jean Lafitte, a man for which much of the wealth of the region was responsible. The house and land later became the property of his son, Hypolyte II, and this younger man married a passionate and troublesome young woman named Felicite Neda, the daughter of a neighboring Spanish landowner. Felicite had a well-deserved reputation for unconventionality and a quick temper. The Chretienne quarrels became legendary but the two of them managed to remained together for years, until Hypolyte died from yellow fever.
Felicite never hesitated in taking over the management of the plantation, which by now included the house and farm and over 500 slaves. Never known to be lady-like by the standards of the day, Felicite proved to be an excellent manager and card player, by which fortune ruled she would continue to increase her wealth. Her husband's, and her father-in-law's, friendship with Jean Lafitte stayed strong and he was a frequent guest at the house.
While the pirate's friendship never wavered, his men were not always so gentlemanly. After the death of Lafitte, his men became renegades and turned from organized privateering to just plain thievery. They came one night to break into Felicite's home, knowing of the wealth that was hidden there. They arrived and found the door locked, but quickly broke it down. When Felicite heard them enter the house, she gathered up a pistol and when down to meet the marauders. She encountered the first pirate at the head of the grand staircase and promptly shot him between the eyes with the pistol. The top of the man's head came off and blood sprayed over the staircase as he tumbled down. The other pirates, not expecting resistance, fled the house and did not return.
Unfortunately, Felicite could not live forever and she died several years later. Her son, named Hypolyte for his father and grandfather was left alone. He was a cripple with poor health problems, but he managed the plantation to the best of his ability. He was the one responsible for saving the house from Union troops in 1863. He climbed out of his sick bed and tottered the upper balcony railings, making a Masonic sign with his shaking hands. The Union commander, as it happened, was also a Freemason and he spared the house, although the outbuildings were destroyed.
As the years passed, the house remained in the possession of the family and it remains a private residence owned by the ancestors of the original Chretienne builders today... although not all of them have actually departed from the house.
According to legend, the ghost of Felicite Chretienne still walks in the grand mansion today. She has been seen and experienced here many times over the years and some say that you can even hear the sound of the fateful pistol shot that saved the house, still echoing in the stairway on certain nights. They say you can also hear the sound of that pirate's body as it falls and tumbles down the steps.
One thing is known, the bloodstains left by that pirate were never removed from the staircase. It has been said that the blood cannot be washed away and on those nights when the sound of the gunshot is heard again, the blood becomes liquid once more.
The Myrtles Plantation
The 205-year-old Myrtles Plantation is said to host the spirits of several long-dead former inhabitants. Over the years, those spirits have been heard and seen around the grounds of the plantation.
No one really knows why there have been so many reported happenings at the plantation. The house does sit on an ancient Tunica Indian burial ground. And there have been at least 10 homicides and suicides on the property since it was settled in 1796.
Former plantation owners John and Teeta Moss took advantage of the homes' spiritual past by offering a "Mystery Tour" on Friday and Saturday nights. The tour highlighted some of the stories and pinpoints the history of some of the happenings over the years.
Teeta Moss said that while they certainly played up the house's supposed spiritual residents, they discouraged spirit worshipers and occult or Satanist practitioners from descending upon the house. No Ouija boards, burning candles or seances were allowed at the house.
Shortly after buying and moving into the home, Moss had her own encounter with one of the disembodied sprits roaming the grounds. When they first moved into the house, her son was lying in bed one night and told her he saw a young girl on the chandelier. Moss said her son was adamant he was seeing a young girl above him. The young boy said the apparition wore a white dress and had yellow or blonde hair. As she talked to her son, Moss thought it might have been the imagination of a two-year-old running wild. But she later talked to a psychologist friend who told her that while children at that age can describe things they see, they cannot conjure images and describe them.
In another instance, at 10 months old, Moss' son was sleeping in a King-sized bed in an upstairs bedroom. She was taking care of some work on the computer. As she worked, a nagging feeling to check on her son came over her. As she was walking back to the house, she spotted the young boy toddling toward a pond in the back yard. He had descended the stairs and made it outside without any assistance.
As she screamed to the boy, Moss felt the feeling of a warm blanket being wrapped around her. "It told me that we would be alright," Moss said. "As long as we were in this house, nothing would happen to my family."
The most famous are the supposed spirits of a former house servant and the wife and children of Judge Clark Woodruffe, who owned the plantation before he was murdered. Legend has it that Judge Woodruffe took up with Chloe, who gave in to the Judge's advances to keep her position in the house rather than working out in the fields. The judge soon tired of Chloe and began an affair with another young slave. Fearing she would be sent to the fields, Chloe began listening through doors and walls to the judge's conversations. She was caught one day endured the punishment of having an ear severed. She began wearing a turban to hide the wound inflicted by the judge. Certain she would be sent from the house after being thrown over by her master and being caught eavesdropping on his conversations, Chloe concocted a plan she thought would be sure to get her back in the good graces of the family.
In a birthday cake made for the Woodruffe's oldest daughter, Chloe added a small amount of poison from an oleander plant, which still grows by the side of the house. The plan was to sicken the daughters and their mother to the point she could nurse them back to health and appear to be the hero. The plan backfired. The three Woodruffe women succumbed to the poison and died. When word spread amongst the slaves of what Chloe had done, a lynch mob formed and she was hung from a tree. Chloe's body was weighted with rocks and dropped in the nearby Mississippi River.
While some hold to the theory that Chloe was trying to get back in the good graces of the family and did not mean to poison Mrs. Woodruffe or the children, still others believe she intentionally poisoned the family out of revenge for the loss of her ear. Had the judge been there that day, she would have killed him too, this belief goes.
The house itself is a stunning example of a grand old southern mansion. There is a 120-foot long veranda with ornamental ironwork. The entrance hall contains examples of art faux bois and open pierced frieze work. There is a Baccarat crystal French chandelier, weighing more than 300 pounds. The stained glass on the entranceway was hand-painted, etched and patterned after the French Cross, to ward off evil.
Hester Eby, curator and tour guide and the plantation for 14 years, said she has had two distinct interactions with what may be the spirit of two of the children murdered by Chloe. Eby was standing behind a couch explaining parts of a room in the house when she felt a tug on her skirt. At first, Eby dismissed it as maybe getting her skirt caught on a piece of furniture or the edge of a windowsill. But she could not ignore a second occurrence. "The second time was lower on the hip," she said. "It felt like a child tugging on the skirt trying to get my attention."
Sometimes images of the children show up in a hallway mirror. People often hear their names called from different rooms only to find they are alone in the house. Visitors and guests often photograph Mryt, the house cat. The 14-year-old black cat poses dutifully, but sometimes does not appear in the pictures. The surroundings will be there, or the person petting the cat will appear in the photo but the cat won't. There will only be a puff of smoke of a blank space. No one can seem to explain it. That's not the only trick of the light that happens to would be shutterbugs who visit the plantation. When she first bought the plantation, Teeta Moss took several pictures at various points around the grounds. In those is a photograph of the rear of the house looking at the kitchen building. There was no one in the shots when Moss took the photos. But when they were developed, tucked into a corner near the kitchen building the image of a woman can be seen faintly. It appears to the an African-American woman wearing a turban.
Butressing the history of the house, others have had similar experiences during their attempts to take photographs at the plantation. Donna Albey of Ormand Beach, Fla., was on her second visit to the plantation on July 14. Last year she took a picture of the rear of the house. When she had them developed, the picture shows a figure with an orange kerchief on its head. "There wasn't anyone there when I took the picture," Albey said. "I can show the picture to other people and they'll say who is that standing there?"
Nottaway Plantation
At the edge of sugar cane fields, Nottoway stands overlooking the Mississippi River. This enormous mansion, completed in 1859, reflects an unusual combination. Greek revival architectural elements blend with innovations that were the fanciful desires of the original owner. Not only is the floor plan irregular, but the house contained many elements that were innovative and rare in the mid-19th century, such as indoor plumbing and hot and cold running water.
Laura Plantation
Probably one of the most unusual plantations is Laura Plantation, a Creole Plantation that was owned by only two families in almost 200 years. There are several reasons that makes this particular plantation home unusual. First of all it hasn't been beautified like the other plantation homes, second, a diary was written about life in this home, a diary that will be published soon too. Third, eventhough it is being restored, it is being restored to its original style from the beginning of the 20th century with the Creole colors, which are very bright.
Madewood Plantation
Madewood Plantation, one of Louisiana's most majestic plantations, is one of the Louisiana antebellum homes that conjures up the elegance of the pre-Civil War South. Nestled among moss draped oaks, on acres of quiet land, few places are more peaceful as the sun sinks below the horizon. As a bonus, there is a very old family grave yard on the grounds. It was typical for estates to have their own cemeteries, and Madewood is no exception. Fenced off with a very old and rusting iron fence, and creaking gate, are the tombs and headstones of those who lived and died 200 years ago, or earlier. Some are so old, that you can barely read the inscriptions.
