The University may be home to Death Valley, but an even more sinister haunt lurks in nearby St. Francisville — the historic Myrtles Plantation, famous for being one of the most haunted homes in America.
Being scared isn’t my thing, and by that I mean I typically avoid anything intended to make me jump, gasp or become frightened in even the slightest way. But in the spirit of Halloween, I decided to set myself up for some potential terror and spend a night at the Myrtles during fall break.
The plantation is a creepy place, especially at night.
Enormous, moss-laden trees scatter the grounds and create an ominous feeling from the moment you enter the gate. The place looks like a picturesque postcard from a Southern plantation, but I couldn’t forget the site is also home to a slew of violent murders and a handful of spirits who allegedly never left.
Stories of the Myrtles’ ghosts are as famous as the plantation itself. The most notable is that of Chloe, a slave who was temporarily an in-house servant, a coveted position because of the close proximity to the homeowners and their luxuries.
But when Chloe was caught eavesdropping, her master cut off her ear and banished her to the scorching hot kitchen. To earn back his good graces, Chloe devised a plan — she would poison a birthday cake to make the family ill. Because she knew the poison, she would also know the antidote. She planned to nurse them back to health and find her way out of the kitchen.
Unfortunately for Chloe, things didn’t go as planned. Instead, she killed several family members and was subsequently hunted down and hanged from an oak tree.
I can only speak for myself, but meeting the ghost of a woman who has lost an ear, been chased by a violent mob and hung from a tree doesn’t exactly seem like a good time.
So it was with trepidation I began the evening by going ghost hunting.
I was not alone. It wasn’t ghosts who kept me company, but fellow poltergeist seekers. The grounds were crawling with people eager to spot something strange. My ghost hunt was fruitless, but two other guests told me they had seen the face of a young girl in a window.
The paranormal activity didn’t pick up much during the rest of the evening. My stay was mostly peaceful, save for a few literal bumps in the night, including creaking doors and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. I couldn’t be sure whether those were the sounds of fellow visitors or something more sinister, but it was creepy nonetheless.
I didn’t see any ghosts, but that doesn’t mean I think the legend of the Myrtles is all superstition. A certain feeling lingered in the air that made me feel like humans weren’t the only presence in the house. Along with that fright factor, the valuable historic significance of the plantation home makes the Myrtles a must-see Louisiana destination.
And though I didn’t experience anything, I was told the next morning that one couple staying in the house heard a high-pitched scream in the middle of the night. It was apparently enough to send them rushing to sleep in their car.
Though I would have liked to experience something for myself, I have to say — I’m glad it wasn’t me.
 
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Contact Ryan Buxton at [email protected]