Look Who's Knocking

Happy Halloween!

Storyville Madam Josie Arlington's former tomb in Metairie Cemetery, designed by the Albert Weiblen Marble and Granite Company in 1911, frequently tops the list of most haunted sites in New Orleans. Weiblen architect Lorenzo Orsini developed the preliminary sketches for the red granite tomb surmounted with flambeaux.  Derived from a similar work in the city cemetery of Munich, the bronze figure of a woman carries a bundle of roses as she reaches her hand out towards the tomb door.  

Image above:  Lorenzo Orsini. John T. Brady (Tomb for Josie Arlington), Metairie Cemetery. 1911. Albert Weiblen Marble and Granite Company Office Records, Southeastern Architectural Archive, Special Collections Division, Tulane University Libraries.

Workmen Vouch for a Real Ghost Story

In October 1905, New Orleans house mover/shorer George J. Abry reported on his workers' encounter with a spooky place:


“I had a house back in the rear of the city to raise, repair and generally overhaul – just where that house is I won’t say, because I don’t want to give it a bad name; that might cause tenants to taboo the place – and put quite a number of men on the job.

The house was an old one, had been on its alto for a long time, I guess but until our experience we – my men and myself – didn’t know that it had the reputation of being haunted by a former occupant who had died there.

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Believe me there was consternation among my men, and all were of the opinion that the house was certainly haunted, and that a ghost had taken it upon himself to superintend their work. Everybody went about with a nervous uncertain air, and at the least sound, other than the noises consequent to the work underway, each man would drop his hammer, hatchet or whatever other implement he had in his hand, and stare about with frightened eyes.”

The Times Picayune 22 October 1905

Chartres Street Ghost 1915

As reported by The Washington Post 12 March 1915:

"Legends like the fragrance of lavender hang about the old buildings in Chartres street, eight blocks below Canal. Tenement houses now, in the old days they were the abodes of cavaliers and fair ladies.

Even now when the lights are out and the neighborhood is dark swords and silks swirl in ghostly sarabands as the dwellers of other days come back and take possession for the night of their former abode. At least that is one of the legends, and the imaginative of the neighborhood will vouch for its authenticity.

Miss Lucille Lacoste ever since she was a little girl has lived in one of these 'haunted' tenements. She and her mother have a dingy little room and oftentimes the girl would wake her mother and bid her listen to the gallants and their ladies as they danced the olden dances on the vacant floors below.

Lately she had become imbued with the idea that one of the cavaliers nightly sought her for a partner in a minuet. . . "

To read more, consult the database ProQuest Historical Newspapers, available from Tulane University (and other) libraries.

New Orleans Ghost Story

The Chicago Tribune reported the following story from The New Orleans Bee on 29 October 1860:

"The Ghost of Barracks Street, New Orleans -- A Horrible Discovery

For some three weeks past there has been considerable excitement among the negroes who live in the neighborhood of Barracks street, New Orleans, in consequence of a report that the ghost of a free-colored man, who blew out his brains in that locality, was in the habit of occasionally emerging from his late residence and indulging in his midnight strolls, clad in vestments of most unearthly whiteness. Many negroes saw the ghost, and some had even approached it, in which case they saw it always sank slowly into the earth. This story at length spread among many white people, and there were not a few who had satisfied their curiosity by midnight visits to the locality and were ready to take oath that the ghost story was no fabrication. At length it even obtained credit with the police, and two night watchmen got their beats removed to other streets from this one. One of these declared the ghost to be over ten feet high, and of ghostly visage. This had to be investigated, as there could be no doubt but that there was some ground for these stories, which attracted numbers of people on foot and in cabs, every midnight to Barracks street, one of those matter-of-fact men in whose minds the supernatural element finds little room. He walked up to the ghost the other night, and catching firm hold of it, discovered it to be a poor old half crazy woman who wanders out of her house at this time with one of her white undershirts drawn over her head. The mystery was fathomed, and the locality has now lost all its former interest."

Twelfth Night Delights in the Prison Yard

"Midnight Revels in the Great Court Yard
of the Famous New Orleans Jail."

Reported by The Galveston Daily News following a story from the Picayune January 1895:

One of the show places of New Orleans has for years been the old parish prison. A gloomy, gray pile, with forbidding exterior of stuccoed walls, it has been the "bogy man" of the thousands of children who have played near it in Congo square. Its slimy corridors have re-echoed the hopeless tread of the condemned, the timid walk of the curious, and the defiant step of the captured bandit, whose pinions have been plucked by the strong arm of the law. But no more will its walls be re-stormed by outraged populace nor its gates swing on rusty hinges to receive unfortunates who enter and leave all hope behind. The old prison has served its time as such, and is now given over to spooks and spirits, that they may hold their orgies unchecked by human presence.

* * *

What could be better adapted to the visitations of ghosts than the parish prison? Where could a more ideal place be found for their constant habitation and abode? The fact that they live in the old pile is established by the fact. They have been seen roaming the courtyards and climbing invisible ladders to the roofs. It is their wont to play a pantomime near a condemned cell and peep with lifeless eyes between the grated doors upon the sleeping prisoners. Often in the still hours of the night, when the fog settles down over the city, these ghosts come out of the crannied walls, assume earthly habiliments, and with the striking of the midnight clock begin their carnival of weird delights.

To read more of this article, consult the database 19th-Century U.S. Newspapers available to Tulane affiliates through its portal here.

The Old Parish Prison, built between 1832 and 1836, was located on Orleans Street between Marais and Treme. The three-story structure was designed by Joseph H. Pilié and A. Voilquin, was vacated in 1894 and razed in 1939.

Image above. Unidentified photographer. Old Parish Prison. circa 1915-30. Miscellaneous Photographs Collection, Southeastern Architectural Archive, Special Collections Division, Tulane University Libraries.