Thursday, May 3, 2012

Haunted South Carolina








Hammock House, Beaufort:
    If you spend time visiting the little town of Beaufort, no doubt you’ll be confronted with the locals’ stories about ghosts and pirates, especially Blackbeard. The notorious captain (as well as other pirates) has certainly left his mark on this quiet seaside village, murdering many villagers, lovers, and crewmates who later came back to haunt the living. One particularly interesting, lust-filled story takes place around Hammock House, a large mansion at the top of a hill.
    Captain Madison Brothers was a young, hard-working sailor admired for his skill and ambition. However, he was infamously prone to fits of rage, especially when he had been drinking. It was rumored that his temper had drove him to fight and even kill. This earned him the nickname of “Mad” Brothers, courtesy of the other ship captains.
Somehow, Brothers had managed to win the heart of the beautiful and wealthy Samantha Ashby. Before he left on another sea voyage, they agreed to be married in the Hammock House upon his return. Time passed, and Samantha arrived again in Beaufort with plenty of time to spare. But her fiancé had not been so lucky, and was delayed out at sea with problem after problem. His first mate had fallen severely ill, the ship’s masts were damaged beyond repair, and storms were constantly tossing the ship and crew about.
    Meanwhile, Samantha had been waiting anxiously back in Beaufort, when she heard news of her brother returning from the British navy. She met up with Lieutenant Carruthers, and the two siblings spent a few days walking along the beach and catching up on each other’s lives. Finally, during a large party in the Hammock House, Captain Brothers’ ship finally arrived. Enraged by the light and merriment pouring from the house, the captain stormed inside. Timing could not have been worse, for the first thing he saw was Carruthers giving Samantha a brotherly peck on the cheek. Thinking a stranger had moved in on his bride in his absence, Brothers drew his sword and exclaimed, “Betrayed!” loud enough to silence the entire party.
    Carruthers drew his sword as well, and although a few guests tried to explain the misunderstanding, the two seamen began to duel. The fight whirled madly throughout the house, until Carruthers was finally killed on the staircase. Two hundred years later, his blood is still visible, and many pay a visit to his grave by the sea.
    Another victim of pirate rage was one of Blackbeard’s young “lovers”. (He is said to have at least two dozen wives in ports all along the coast.) This one, however, was rather disinterested and desperately fought against all of Blackbeard’s romantic advances. Fed up with her noise and struggle, he hung the girl from a large oak tree while on their “romantic” stay in the Hammock House. According to folklore, visitors can still hear her screams during the night.
In addition to screams and suspiciously irremovable blood, Hammock House is known for its constant creepy noises, glowing orbs of light, and, of course, violent history.






The Battery, Charleston:
Charleston’s Battery, also known as White Point Gardens, sits on the edge of the meeting place of the Ashley and Cooper Rivers. Long before the area became a scenic retreat and peaceful park, both Fort Broughton (established around 1735) and later Fort Wilkins occupied what was then known as White or Oyster Point, named for the eerie white and skeletal piles of bleached oyster shells covering the peninsula’s point. The Battery has been a place of conflict since its colonial beginnings. Frequented by pirates and later a key location as Charleston tried to defend itself from the Union’s invasion during the Civil War, Charleston’s Battery has seen enough death to explain it being haunted.
                  Charleston’s Most Haunted Inn
    Behind the wrought iron gates of “No. 20,” known more popularly as the Battery Carriage House Inn, ghosts have continued on well beyond their expected stays. Built in 1843, the battery Carriage House is part of a larger, private home, but visitors who dare overnight are welcomed by the B&B’s staff. Heavy footsteps are heard on stairways where no one is seen walking. Strange glowing masses appear, change shape and fade away and cell phones act oddly in Room 3 of the Inn. Shutters open and close on their own and some visitors report seeing faces on one of the Inn’s beautiful mirrors.
    Beginning in the early 1990s, reports started coming in about more oddities. People report feeling like they were being watched in the middle of the night, and perhaps most disturbing of all, some visitors claim to have seen a headless torso dressed in layers of clothing, overcoat on top haunting Room 8.
    The strange headless torso is thought to be either the remnants of a colonial pirate or a man from the Civil War period. His overcoat is of a coarse material, which, depending on additional details could belong to a man of either historical period. Speculation rages over the figure’s identity and people get an uneasy feeling when he appears. He is possibly one of the many pirates and near-do-wells that met their end “dancing the hempen jig” in 1718 when Charleston tried and hanged nearly 50 pirates. Charleston was overrun by pirates and was one of Blackbeard’s favorite ports. Anne Cormac (later Anne Bonny, the famous female pirate) grew up in the area and met her husband, pirate James Bonny in Charleston. It was from Charleston that Blackbeard kidnapped Council member Samuel Wragg and his young son, holding them hostage until his crew received necessary medicines. Stede Bonnet, “the Gentleman Pirate” met his end at the end of a hangman’s noose after his pleas were ignored. He was buried on White Point Shoal (now the Battery Garden); although most pirates were dumped unceremoniously into the ocean. Is it possible Bonnet still roams the area, displaced and angry, threatening in a raspy, breathy way because his final words were useless?
The other frequent ghostly visitor is the “gentleman ghost.” It is believed that the gentleman ghost is the spirit of a well-bred well-educated young man whose family owned the house decades ago. A college student with a supposedly sensitive nature, the young gentleman jumped to his death, leaving his motivation a mystery to friends and family alike. Now he seems to frequent Room 10 of the Inn, ghosting by like little more than a shadow—sometimes with the scent of fresh soap as if he’s just bathed. Occasionally he is rumored to take a liking to certain members of the opposite sex, ghosting nearby them and giving the sensation he is lying beside them, his arm gently around them.
    Whether you visit Charleston’s Battery for its history or the pleasant Southern hospitality and authentic warmth, be aware you may not be alone—even in your most private moments!







The Jailhouse Pickens County:
What is now the Pickens County Museum of Art and History in Pickens South Carolina was once the county jail. In 1944 a string of events occurred around that place that has the ghost of a young boy pleading his innocence until judgement day.
    It all started in 1944 with a racist cabbie and a black passenger. As they drove towards the destination, the cabbie, a man named Johnny, took shots at his passenger, each more vicious and profanity laced then the last, trying to get a rise out of the man. But the black man stayed quiet. When they got to where they were going, the black man quietly got out of the cab and began to walk away. The cabbie jumped from the car, hollering after the man that he'd not been paid. The black man turned and said he was not paying and the cabbie was lucky not to get a beating. Infuriated, Johnny pulled a gun and shot the black man in the back, killing him.
    Johnny was never arrested, but he told almost everyone he knew about the killing. As if he were proud of taking the life. Tensions in the area ran high for some time after. That's when Willie Earle came to town to visit his mother. She left him in the house when she went to work at a diner That afternoon, she got a visit from the police telling her Willie had been arrested for the robbing and stabbing of a cab driver.
Willie was taken to the Pickens County jail, but he was never tried. A mob of cab drivers entered the jail and took Willie by force to the old slaughter yard where he was tortured and finally shot twice in the head. The cabbie Johnny was the only one who came to work the next morning. He acted as if nothing had happened. On Febuary 21, 1947 31 cab drivers were arrested for the murder of Willie Earle. That May, they were aquitted. To this day, people tell of hearing the soft moan of Willie Earle as he desperately trys to plead his innocence... "I didn't do it.. I didn't do it".

















Litchfield Plantation:
    Back when the gates of Litchfield were made of wood and not iron, it was owned by a kind doctor named Henry Tucker. When he was finished visiting a patient or coming back from a horse ride he would ring the bell outside of the gates of Litchfield. This would signal a gatekeeper who lived nearby to let Tucker in.

    Sometimes the gatekeeper would slip away and Dr. Tucker would ring the bell furiously to no answer. He would then tie his horse to the fence and climb over to walk to the house where, if it was late, he would use a private staircase to avoid disturbing his family.
    Long after the doctor's death people claimed to see him on the stairs walking up to his room. Some would hear the sound of a horse trotting up the lane towards the main house. Others would hear the clanging of the bell at all hours of the night as though the doctor was trying to get the gatekeepers attention. It was this sound that caused one owner to remove the bell entirely to prevent the doctor from disturbing his slumber.
    So if you pass Litchfield Plantation late at night or on a gray, rainy day and see a bay tied near the gate, perhaps its the good doctor coming home yet again.









The Gray Man of Pawleys Island:
The gray man of Pawleys Island in South Carolina has walked the coastline for nearly 200 years. And much like the Gray man of Hatteras, his presence spells impending danger for the small island and the people who dwell there. It seems that while he is responsible for saving lives, he was unable to save his own.
   There are several stories about the origin of the Gray Man, this is just one.
    In 1822 a young woman was staying on the island with her family when she received word her fiancée was going to join her on the island after going to see his family. Delighted with the news, she had the servants prepare all his favorite dishes and decorate the house in anticipation for his arrival. When the time came for him to arrive, no one showed. For hours she waited for her love, only to be visited by the fiancées servant with tragic news.
    As they were traveling down the road, her fiancée was in great spirits and challenged his servant to a race on their horses. They raced down the strand and when he saw a shortcut through a marsh, he decided to take it. Fate stepped in and caused his horse to stumbled, throwing it's rider off. When he tried to stand, he found himself sinking in quicksand. Despite his best efforts, he nor his companion were able to free him and the girls husband-to- be sank beneath the sand.
    The news nearly drove the girl mad. She spent hours walking along the Pawleys Island strand. One afternoon she was out walking when she saw a man looking out over the water. As she got closer she felt her stomach tighten. She couldn't believe her eyes. When she got mere feet from the man, she was sure it was her love. Suddenly, a wave burst from the sea, enveloping him. When it had gone, so had he.
She told her family of what she had seen. They, of course, thought that losing her fiancée was starting to take her mind. That night, she had a horrific dream of being in a small boat in the ocean tossed by the waves. wreckage all around her. All the while, her lover stood on a dune, trying to wave her to him. When she awoke she was terrified. So her father took her and the rest of the family to Charleston to see a doctor.
That was fortunate. Within hours of their leaving, a hurricane struck the coast. When it was over, almost all the inhabitants of the North Inlet had died. Realizing that her love had returned to save her from a horrible fate, the girl returned to her normal self.
    People still claim they see the Gray Man. In 1954 a grandmother on vacation with her family saw a man dressed completely in gray fade to a blur before fading away. The next day tornadoes ripped through the area. One person tried to chase the Gray Man only to have him disappear in front of their eyes.
    So if you are on Pawleys Island in late September or October, keep an eye turned to the beach. And if you do see the Gray Man, heed his warning. and take shelter.






Ghost rider of Bush's River:
During the Revolutionary War, a time of darkness settled over South Carolina as hope for independence began to fade. It was during this time that a man living along Bush's River made a promise to the love of his life. He told her as he joined the cause, that he would return for her, alive or dead. A year later, he made good on his promise.
    Henry Galbreath was a courageous man. He was also well versed in the terrain around Bush's River and South Carolina in general. He was also a man in love. His heart belonged to a beautiful girl named Charity. Because he was wanted by the Tories in the area, Henry could only visit Charity at night, stealing away to a meeting point where they could be together until the morning when he would be forced to leave her once more.
    One night, as the clouds raced past the moon, he told her he was joining the continental army. "But no matter what," he told her, "Dead or alive, I'll be back to see you in a year". Charity promised to wait for him. So in July of 1780 Henry Galbreath left to join the cause for freedom.
    It is said he joined General Horatio Gates in the defeat at Camden. After which he supposedly joined Frances Marion, otherwise known as the "Swamp Fox" for a time before becoming a scout for William Washington's cavalry where his knowledge of the countryside made him almost a legend in the British ranks as well as the Americans.
    In January of 1781 the tide began to turn for the Americans. At the battle at Cowpens the British began to retreat in full barely an hour into the battle. As the British officers fled, one turned and fired a shot at a man on horseback giving chase. That bullet found its way into the heart of Henry Galbreath.
Henry's love Charity knew nothing of his passing. As the day of his scheduled arrival dawned, her heart sang. She swept the floor and made breakfast for her father and brother. Every so often she would go to the door, looking for his horse to bring him down the road. The day eventually passed without word from her love.
    She was awoken at around 2 o'clock the next morning by the sound of horse hoofs. She listened as the sound got louder until it stopped right outside her door. She opened the front door to see a man on a beautiful horse. A dark blue robe hung from his shoulders. A light flashed twice and off the horse and rider went, back down the rode where they disappeared from sight.
    The next day Charity and her family searched in vain for proof the rider had been there. No prints were ever found. Charity knew it was Henry making good on his promise to come back dead or alive. The British never again won a real victory in the south. General Cornwallis eventually went to Virginia where he would surrender.
    As for the "Ghost rider of Bush's River", it is said on moonless nights you can hear horse hoofs start at the battlefield of Cowpens and continue to Bush's River up to a spot where long ago a man spent time with the woman he loved... even in death.






Ghost Treasure of Folly Island:
Stories of buried treasure and ghosts go hand in hand. In this tale we have a lust for treasure, murder, and a guard from beyond the grave, All on Folly Island in South Carolina. How far would you go to grab a share of the booty? Would you fight the ghost of a pirate?
    During the Civil War the Union army landed on Folly Island off the coast of South Carolina. While preparing to attack the Confederate port of Charleston, men were sent around to gather up citizens to transport them off the island. A young officer named Yokum was assigned to help with the task. As he was going about his duty, his came across a run down shack housing and elderly black woman and a child.
    When she was informed that she would be leaving, the woman protested, and began telling the young man stories of her life in the house. Yokum sat on the porch and politely listened to her stories, although he wasn't really paying any attention. It was only when she mentioned that treasure was buried around did she truly grab Yokums attention.
    She told Yokum that a group of pirates had come ashore and dug a hole between two big oaks and lowered six chests of gold, silver and jewels into it. Then, when the last chest was in place, the captain stabbed one of his crew in the back and threw his body in the hole. The gang then covered the hole and sailed away.
    Yokum, trying to act casual, then asked the old woman if the treasure was still there. "Who gonna go to that place? That pirate watches over the treasure even though he's dead". She said. Yokum then helped the woman with the child onto the ship to take them off the island.
    That night, Yokum and his friend by the name of Hatcher, crossed the sand dunes with shovels in their hands. Finding the trees the old woman had pointed to, they began to dig. It was then that they noticed the tops of the trees started swaying as if a powerful wind had suddenly come up. The more they dug, the higher the wind got until the blown sand felt like needles on their faces. Then, flashes of light began to appear. The more they dug, the more frequent the flashes of light in the night sky. Suddenly, a flash came that lasted for several seconds, making the night as bright as if it were noon. It was then that Yokum and Hatcher realized there was someone, or something, there with them. The outline of whatever it was was clear. It was a pirate. Leaving the gear behind, Yokum and Hatcher raced back over the dunes to the safety of the camp.
    The two men swore to never tell of what had happened. A few years after the war, Hatcher was dead and Yokum had moved west. The story would've been lost forever, but fifty years later, Yokum recalled the story at a veterans reunion and a writer named Frances Moore printed the story.
As for the treasure, I guess some things are better off buried.






The Ghost Hound of Goshen:
On Buncombe Road between the Ebenezer Church in Newberry County and Goshen Hill in Union County in South Carolina, there lurks a strange beast. Know as "The Hound of Goshen", it has been witnessed by many reputable people. Some say it's the dog of a peddler falsely accused of murder and hanged. Whatever the case, the dog is known to chase those who trespass in its territory. But don't worry, it's never caught anyone... That we know of...
    Some say the ghost hound was, in life, the pet of a peddler making his way across the area in the early 1850's. Unfortunately for the man, a murder occurred while he was passing through and was the scapegoat. After a sham of a trial, the man was hanged. His faithful dog stayed by his grave until either starvation or stones thrown by the townsfolk (depending on which story you hear) ended it's life. It was after this that "The Hound of Goshen" was seen.
    The earliest sighting of the Goshen Hound happened in 1855. William Hardy sent a young slave to the home of Dr. George Douglass to bring the doctor back to look at a sick man. When the boy arrived at the home of the doctor, he was terrified of something. After a while the doctor had calmed the young slave enough to hear his story. It seems the boy was riding on a mule headed for the doc's, when he heard an awful noise coming from behind him. He described what he saw as the biggest, whitest dog he'd ever seen.
Immediately, the boy dug his heels in the sides of the mule to hurry the animal along. As they ran for all they were worth, the dog got in front of the mule, causing it to rear up almost throwing the boy off. The boy then said the dog just stared at him. It never left the boys trail until he had turned into Dr. Douglass' yard. Dismissing the boy's story, Dr. Douglass told the boy to go home only to have the child plead and beg to stay with the doctor for the night.
    Years later, Dr. Jim Coefield saw the the animal. Try as he might, he was never able to give a rational answer for what he'd seen. Dr. Coefield even had a dog of his own who would walk along side his master until they got to the Ebenezer cemetery. Then, the dog would whine and disappear into the woods until the good Doctor had passed the ghost dog's territory. Only then would he rejoin Coefield on the road.
In 1936, Berry Sanders was making the trip home when he came face to face with the ghost hound. Over a mile from the safety of home, Sanders ran the entire way, screaming. Only when he made it to the door did the animal turn and head back into the woods.
    In the 1970's an elderly woman was said to have had an encounter with the dog when it came into her yard, grew in size and leaped towards her. The woman fainted. When she awoke, the dog was no where to be found.
The latest sighting is said to have happened in 1998, but I could not find any information on that account.
    So if you travel Buncombe Road between Ebenezer Church and Goshen Hill, keep and eye towards the woods. For the Hound Of Goshen still watches and waits. Ever ready to chase anyone from its territory.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Dominican Hill, Baguio City, Philippines.






The empty ruined remains of the Diplomat Hotel on Dominican Hill, Baguio City, Philippines have the reputation of being haunted by headless apparitions amongst other things. The building dates back to the early 20th century and was constructed by the Dominican Order as a seminary, covering 17 hectares. Father Rogue Ruano was in charge of the construction and on 23 May 1915 the Collegio del Santissimo was inaugurated. Due to poor enrolment figures the school aspect was closed in 1917 and the building was used as a vacation house/sanitarium.
    During WWII refugees took shelter in the building until the Japanese forces attacked, causing extensive damage to the property. The occupying Japanese are supposed to have beheaded several of the priests and nuns from the vacation house. According to stories passed down, these murders took place on the ground floor and some rooms on the second floor of the building. There is a rumor that babies were killed near the fountain.
    Restoration work started in 1947 and was finished in 1948. In 1973 the building was bought by Diplomat Hotels, Inc who remodeled it into a 33 bedroom modern hotel, whilst keeping a lot of the architectural features associated with the Dominican Friars, including the large white cross on top of it. The rooms were described as being large and eerie.
    Tony Agpaoa, major stockholder in Diplomat Hotels Inc and faith healer, managed the hotel until his death from a heart attack in 1987. Many of the visitors were patients of Agpaoa from Europe seeking a miracle cures. With the death of Agpaoa the hotel was closed to the public and declared off limits to visitors, though I believe it maybe accessible now. Whilst it was open as a hotel staff and guests supposedly heard wailing sounds both during the evening and throughout the daytime. A headless priest was also seen wandering the corridors.
    The building is now in a dilapidated state and supposedly avoided by the locals who consider it to be haunted. Neighbors have supposedly claimed to hear noises from the hotel, like dishes clattering, people screaming, and hearing doors slamming shut, the locals have also reported seeing the "White Lady".

Sunday, March 4, 2012

New Orleans Louisiana







New Orleans has been called the most haunted city in the united states. It has been said by many that the actual history of New Orleans is far stranger than anything fictional writers can create.
    Legend tells us that this vast swamp was once used by Indians as a sacred burial place. The location was appealing for its geographical position on the Mississippi River. The french believed it would be extremely profitable for trading. Therefore, in 1718, New Orleans was founded. Being a swamp, New Orleans did not appeal to the taste of wealthy Parisians. It was during this time that the prisons in Paris were extremely over populated. The King of France decided to relieve this problem by sending over laborers from the prisons to build the city.
    Murderers, thieves, rapists, and common criminals were among the first to populate the area. Living conditions were deplorable. Harsh elements, quick sand, alligators, venomous snakes, mosquitoes and disease were rampant. The murder rate was high. Add a couple of major fires that devoured the city, (as well as many of its inhabitants), numerous hurricanes, wars, and yellow fever epidemics over the next hundred years created excellent conditions for ghosts and hauntings. 

    In 1834, a crime occurred that shocked the city beyond belief. A crime that eventually became known as the blemish of the city. A woman by the name of Delphine LaLaurie became a common name in the city's dark history. 
    She moved there with her husband Dr. Louis LaLaurie both very wealthy were known to throw parties of the century, they were also known to have very well behaved slaves.
    One the madame was getting ready for a party and her long hair was being combed by a 12 old slave girl named Leah, well the comb hit a snag and the madame pulled out a bullwhip and intended on punishing the poor girl. Little Leah kept running away from the madame and ran out onto the balcony where she lost her footing and fell to her death, the madame was unable to hide the crim and was charged with abusing her slaves and fined 300.00 dollars, a mere slap on the wrist for her, her slave were then taken away and auctioned off to a family member that LaLaurie payed. With her slaves back life continued on and eveything was almost forgotten until a fire broke out in the kitchen of the LaLaurie house, the fire brigade was called to the house and when they went into the kitchen they seen two slaves chained to the stove. It was apparent that they started the fire in the hopes of bringing attention to the aweful things that were being done.
    The remaining slaves directed the fire brigade to a small attic crawlspace, the door was bolted and locked from the outside, yet screams and cries could be heard within. the fire brigade used a battering ram and knocked the door open, to their horror they seen at least a dozen slaves had been victims of very crude medical experimentations. They were chained to the walls, maimed and disfigured. One man looked as if he had been the victim of some crude sex change operation. One poor soul, a woman, had managed to break free from her shackles. Instead of being relieved that someone had come to rescue her, she ran in fear of further torture. She made it past the rescuers, in through the house, then jumped through a window. She fell to her death on the balcony below. The window remains sealed to this day. Another victim had her arms amputated and her skin peeled off in a circular pattern, making her look like a human caterpillar. Yet another, had been locked in a cage that the newspaper described as barely large enough to accommodate a medium size dog. Breaking the cage open, the rescuers found that the LaLaurie’s had broken all of her joints resetting them at odd angles so she resembled a human crab. Body parts were in jars on shelves in the room. 
    Before the LaLaurie's could be caught and punished for their crimes they escaped through their carriageway and disappeared at the river's edge.
    Many years later the house was turned into apartments as it is today, during renovations on the 3rd floor however there was a horrible discovery, the bodies of seventy five people were found who had been buried alive. To this day the house is said to be the most haunted in the city.

   



    On November 23, 1762, in the Treaty of Fontainebleau, the King of France, Louis XV gave Louisiana to his cousin, King Charles III, of Spain. The treaty was kept secret for a number of years to all except the Spanish. On March 5, 1766, the first Spanish Governor, Don Antonio de Ulloa arrived in New Orleans.
    No doubt France failed to alert the settlers in New Orleans of this change in command. This was a very early time for New Orleans. The French Parisians still wanting no part in colonizing this swamp city. The new Governor and his army arrived unannounced and proceeded to replace the French flag flying in the Place D’ Arms with that of Spain.
    Needless to say, the French population of the city feared the worse. It would appear to The French Creole colonists wanted no part of Spanish rule. Having not been informed of this change, they of course believed that they were being invaded by Spain. They did what seemed to be the only natural thing to do, defend their city. They organized an army led by six Creole gentlemen and fought the first revolution in North America. They literally overtook the soldiers and expelled the Spaniards from the colony. The Creole colonist fought and won the first revolution in this country. The Spanish Governor and his army retreated to Cuba.
    Spain was slow to respond. In 1769, another governor, Don Alejandro O’Reilly, an Irish ex-patriot who joined Spain during the Spanish Inquisition, entered New Orleans. He brought with him a new priest for the church and an entire Spanish army consisting of 24 ships. The ships appeared to float into the port of New Orleans. Governor O’Reilly and his army seized the Place D’ Arms and raised their Spanish flag. They set up camp in the newly appointed Plaza de Armas.
    The governor’s first matter of business was to capture the six men who led the revolution. One by one they were captured and shot for treason without a trial. One by one their bullet torn bodies were laid out in the sand in front of the church. Governor O’Reilly set forth a proclamation to the city of New Orleans and its French residents. It stated the bodies would be removed from the church entrance for no reason. The rotting corpses were to remain where they lie to rot, fester and decompose for the entire city to see.
    The priest, of the church, at that time was a beloved Capuchin Monk, named Pere Dagobert. He was outraged by this act of terror. “What Catholic could possibly do this to nother Catholic,” he wondered. In an attempt to correct this blasphemy and give the men a proper funeral, he visited Governor O’Reilly. He tried to reason with him. Governor O’Reilly very rudely sent the priest away, forbidding him to defy his actions. Several days later, Pere Dagobert made another attempt to reason with the Governor. This time begging and beseeching him to have mercy on the souls of these poor men. Again, the Governor sent him away. The Governor warned Pere Dagobert that if defied him or even attempted to visit him again, he too would join the others in front of the church.
    Finally, in an act of desperation to give these men a proper Catholic funeral, Pere Dagobert bravely did what anyone would have done. He took matters into his own hands. He waited until a stormy night and he gathered the families of the men. Pine boxes were constructed to be coffins for what was left of the remains. In the middle of a torrential rainstorm, he and the families gathered the remains into the boxes. Pere Dagobert proceeded to perform the funeral mass in the storm. Pere Dagobert was best recognized in New Orleans for his beautiful tenor voice. As he sang the Kyrie his voice echoed out against the sound of the pounding rain and crashing thunder. He continued singing throughout the rain, as he led the funeral procession down
    Pere Antion’s alley (ironically named for his predecessor), down Orleans Avenue to what was then St. Peter’s cemetery. The men were given their funeral in spite of the threats of Governor O’Reilly. Not one Spanish soldier attempted to abandon their tent to disrupt the funeral.
    Pere Dagobert was eventually replaced in the church by the first Spanish priest Father Antonio DeSadilla, referred to by the French as Pere Antion. Pere Dagobert continued out his life in New Orleans and was eventually buried under the altar in the Cathedral. But the impression of Pere Dagobert however intense, was not left in the Place D’ Arms,now Jackson Square. Nor was it left in the Cathedral. For it is not the ghost of Pere Dagobert that haunts this city. His impression was left in the rain. On rainy summer nights, his haunting voice can still be heard echoing throughout the alleys. Still singing the Kyrie. The closer to dawn the louder the singing. His beautiful tenor voice. singing the funeral mass, down the alley, and throughout Orleans Avenue.





    One of the most mysterious ghosts in the French Quarter is that of the “Sultan”. He reportedly roams the halls of the four-story house at 716 Dauphine St., on the corner of Dauphine and Orleans Ave. A Times-Picayune article written on February 11, 1979, recounts the Sultan’s tale. There are discrepancies as to dates of the actual incident as well as when the house was even built.
    New Orleans was one of the first cities to be taken over and occupied by the Union during the Civil War. This was a time in our history when even the wealthiest of Creoles were losing their fortunes. Often, those who owned large mansions would sell their properties for smaller homes or even rent out the homes to several families. Businesses were dying and Confederate money was no longer good. A man by the named of LePrete owned the large mansion at 716 Dauphine Avenue. The LaPrete family owned a plantation in Plaquemines Parish but used the spacious home in the French Quarter during the winter months, which was opera season in New Orleans. In fear of losing his plantation, he planned to rent or sell his second home. He was visiting New Orleans and discussing his financial concerns with some associates in a local pub. Overhearing his conversation, a man wearing a turban approached Mr. LePrete and introduced himself as an emissary of a Turkish sultan who had recently arrived in New Orleans. He explained to Mr. LePrete that the Sultan had quite a large family and was in dire need of a large home to rent. Mr. LaPrete was delighted to hear that the Royal family was interested in his home. The man offered for Mr. LaPrete to check his references that were banks across the city where the Sultan had deposited rather large sums of money. The following morning Mr. LePrete checked with the banks and indeed, the Sultan was quite wealthy. Mr. LePrete met again with the mysterious man in a turban and orchestrated the transaction. Immediately, the Sultan moved in with his family. His family consisted of many, many wives. There were woman of every shape, size and color among them. He had many children from these wives. The Sultan had a harem of not only women but also young boys. Over the two years he occupied the house in the city, it is said that he was known to kidnap women, girls and boys off the street and torture them into submission. He had an entire army of eunuchs to protect his family and harem. The guards would march the balconies and galleries of the house with scimitars.
    He had bars put over the doors and windows of the house making it look for like a fortress. For two years, his parties were the talk of the city. Loud music and laughter rang through the building all hours of the day and night. The smell of opium and incense reeked through the doors and windows.
    Two years after the sultan moved into the home, a woman who lived at a neighboring house was strolling by early one morning. As she passed the corner, she noticed that for the first time in two years, the home was quiet, no laughter, and no music. She stood for a few seconds on the corner, straining to hear any sign of life. She then became aware that there was a drip coming down off of the gallery. Looking up, she realized that it was blood. Running around to the front door, she observed blood pooling from underneath.
    She reported the situation to police who had to enter the property by way of a battering ram. As the doors collapsed in, the police saw pools of blood trailing down the halls. As they wallowed through the congealed blood they saw that there were body parts strewn throughout the house. Legs, arms, heads, torsos, every member of the household had been cut into pieces. The woman, children and eunuchs alike, butchered into unrecognizable parts. They had to count heads in order to get an accurate count of the bodies.
    The Sultan’s body was the only one that had not been cut up. His body was found in a shallow grave, one hand reaching through the freshly dug dirt. When they retrieved his body, there was so much soil shoved into his throat and esophagus, it can only be assumed that he was buried alive. The murder of the Sultan and his entourage is the biggest mass murder mystery in the city’s history. No one knows who committed the murders.
     For years, the city blamed pirates for the crime. It was assumed that possibly they intended to rob him and ultimately murdered everyone. This story doesn’t carry a lot weight however. Pirates generally used pistols. Also, the largest trade for pirates was white slavery. It would have been far more profitable to kidnap the woman and children, even the eunuchs and sell them as slaves in the Caribbean.
    A much more sinister explanation has since been derived. It is now suspected that this man, Prince Suleyman, was not a Sultan at all, but the brother of a Sultan. Up until the late 1800’s, it was customary that when a son was crowned Sultan, he would order his brothers and their families executed. With many wives and many children, it meant many heirs. Older brothers who gained the crown would insure that one of their own children would be heir to the thrown rather than a brother. It is now believed that the prince was hiding in New Orleans with his family to avoid execution from his older brother, the real Sultan. Professional assassins from Turkey located him and were ordered to execute the entire household. The prince was probably drugged or knocked unconscious the buried alive. This is substantiated by the way the body was dressed in traditional Muslim funeral attire and dressing.
    In the newspaper article of 1979, called “Life with an Exotic Ghost,” tales of the sultan’s ghost was recounted. Two residents of the home who had lived there during different periods, claim to have had encounters with the sultan. Both women claim to have seen the ghost of the sultan. One woman moved out of the home after hearing shrieking screams and gurgling sounds inside the house. A previous owner of the house, claimed she was visited nightly by the Sultan. She would awaken to a presence hovering over her. When she would look up, she could see his face peering down at her, with his turban still on his head. When she would scream or turn on a light, the apparition would vanish. A twisted tree grows in the courtyard in the site where the sultan was buried. Other residents throughout the years have claim to have heard the sounds of body parts hitting the wood floors at night. While others have merely seen the robe of the Sultan whip around a corner.
   
   

  These are just a few stories to tell about how haunted New Orleans is, if you plan on visiting it should be told that no matter where you go in New Orleans no matter what corner you turn always remember you may not be alone like you think, there are also plenty of haunted hotels and it wouldn't hurt to check out the cemeteries as well. Have fun and enjoy yourself and whatever you do dont turn out your lights