My partner surprised me with a pre-Thanksgiving jaunt to one of my favorite haunted cities. I couldn’t leave without compiling a list of my favorite allegedly haunted locations and the lore behind them.
Whether you believe in the supernatural or not, there is something about New Orleans that feels almost uncanny. It’s a city steeped in history--some true and some of the more folkloric variety.
Join me for little tour of the Quarter and a few stories about what haunts the streets of New Orleans.
st. ursuline convent
Our first stop in the French Quarter was sneaking a decent picture of the Ursuline Convent through the bars of the rather tall wall that surrounds the property.
Why is there a massive gate around a convent?
Ask around and you’ll find that the Ursuline Convent might be home to more than just a few nuns.
The convent is also the alleged home of Les Filles de la Cassette or the Casquette Girls—vampiric women the Catholic Church sealed away in the attic of the Ursuline Convent.
Our story begins when Louisiana was still a French colony, and King Louis XIV was determined to grow the swampy, disease-ridden territory because he was really bad with money. We won’t get into how fucked Louis XIV left France’s coffers, but let’s just say, he was incredibly unwilling to cut back.
Now, you may have heard the line that New Orleans was founded by criminals, prostitutes, and the general dregs of society, and that’s sort of true, though not entirely.
You see, unlike the British, the French were not desperate to leave the comforts of France to rough it in the New World. Few people were willing to build out a colony and fend off indigenous people in a swamp in service of the Crown.
The thing about colonization (aside from it being fucked up) is that it requires a lot of hard labor. It’s not just showing up, sticking a flag in the ground, and committing genocide; early settlers needed to build an entire infrastructure from the ground up. They had to build homes, ports, and roads, find ways to access potable water and a sustainable food supply and defend their land from both indigenous people and other countries looking to colonize the same land. And on top of all of this, early settlers had to export resources to continue funding their growth.
As you can imagine, it was difficult to find people willing (or skilled) enough to engage in that sort of labor. So, the King turned to economist John Law to fix his problem.
Because finance bros always have the answers, right?
Law quickly went to work moving money around and developing the marketing campaign of the century. His plan was to get rid of France’s debt by taking out a loan that would be paid off by raw materials the settlers would export. All he needed to do was make sure there were enough men in the New World ready to go to work, so enough revenue could be generated to pay the loan back.
Sadly, calling the French Territory the “New Eden” didn’t increase the settler population by a significant enough amount.
Things weren’t looking good for Lock; he’d made big promises to the King and thus far he’d barely delivered. So, he hatched a new plan: instead of wasting time and money trying to convince people to build out the territory, he’d find people who had no other option but to go.
Lock scoured prisons and mental hospitals promising men freedom in the New World after only a year of service to the Crown. Unsurprisingly, many of these men agreed and were immediately shipped off to an area that would eventually be known as Biloxi, Mississippi.
Biloxi was originally intended to become what the Port of New Orleans eventually would grow into…were it not for the sudden influx of criminals.
You see, the original settlers didn’t quite enjoy hoards of murderers, rapists, and thieves descending upon their shores. These individuals were typically unskilled and arrived worse for wear after a five-month voyage. And many of those who survived the trip died from tropical fever or from the lack of infrastructure to support that many new settlers.
So, the criminals stayed in Biloxi and the original colonists shifted slightly south, and set up shop in what would become New Orleans.
But, what does this have to do with the Casquette Girls?
Well, John Lock knew that in order to ensure a territory would continue to grow, you’d need to have multi-generational families, and the only way to do that was to make sure there were enough women in the New World to birth the next generation.
So, he started a little program called the “Daughters of the King”, which would send women of good French breeding to marry men in the New World.
Now, women of good French breeding were typically not interested in being shipped off to an unknown land to marry some random guy (who may or may not be a criminal), so Lock got creative and abducted women instead.
He visited more jails and asylums, and forced these women onto boats, promising them “freedom” if they did their duty for King and country. However it’s debatable if being forced into marriage is not merely another potentially worse form of imprisonment.
It’s generally assumed that most of these women were sex workers, but it’s important to note there were many reasons women could be sent to jail or an asylum during this period in France.
It was not uncommon for wealthy women to accuse female servants of theft as punishment or for a woman to be sent to an asylum because a husband or father was tired of their “hysterics”. This meant many of the women being sent overseas were not “criminals” at all; they were merely victims of circumstance.
Once these women were rounded up, they would be placed on a boat with a small box of clothing and personal effects for the voyage that looked like a small wooden coffin, which resulted in their nickname: the Casquette Girls.
They would then undergo a five-month voyage with some sort of chaperone (like a nun), and pending they survived the voyage, they would be married off to men within the territory.
These women who were able to travel alone were slightly luckier than some of their peers. The promise of a wife was so popular, Lock began promising male prisoners freedom and a wife if they consented to work in the territory. Some women were literally dragged from asylums and forcibly shackled to their “future husbands” for the entire five-month voyage.
To be blunt, Lock and the French government authorized the sex trafficking of women who were already exploited by the justice system, and unfortunately, this piece of the story is often glossed over, though it provides a great deal of context to the story of the Casquette Girls.
Now, there are different versions of the story, but this is the one I prefer:
After months of waiting for the King to send over wives, a ship from France finally arrived in the Port of New Orleans. It had been so long, that nearly half the Quarter had lined up to see the seven women chosen by the King to join New Orleans society.
But, the ship that pulled into port looked practically empty. There appeared to be only a skeleton crew, despite the long and treacherous voyage, and instead of seven blushing brides, seven caskets accompanied by Ursuline nuns were quickly shepherded off the boat and into the convent.
The crowd was stunned. The nuns had offered no explanation for what had happened to the women during the course of the voyage and the coffins appeared to be nailed shut. Even more peculiar, the women were not buried. Their caskets were taken to the uppermost floor of the convent, and the windows there were sealed from the outside with blessed iron.
Rumors circulated, supposedly from the surviving crew, that something happened on that long journey across the Atlantic that transformed these seven women into ghastly pale creatures with bright red lips, red-rimmed eyes, curiously sharp teeth, and a lust for warm blood.
And while the nuns were able to subdue the creatures, they were unable to fully kill them. So, instead, they keep vigil over the seven coffins, making sure the nails on the coffins and windows are blessed, and that the door to the attic is always locked, so the Casquette Girls can never escape to terrorize the people of New Orleans.
Now, whether there is truth to vampiric women being trapped in a convent is debatable, but the Ursuline convent is strangely well-guarded.
A large wall surrounds the property and security guards lurk behind an iron gate. And aside from a small museum and brief walking tour, it’s almost impossible to see the full property...particularly that mysterious attic that may or may not hold real vampires.
So, were the Casquette Girls merely unfortunate victims of disease? Or is there something lurking within the Ursuline Convent that we should all be very glad is sealed away?
Or, given what we know about the “Daughters is the King” is the moral of this particular story that abducting women and forcing them to wed complete strangers (that might be actual convicts) might make them something quite monstrous?
1041 royal street
No trip to New Orleans would be complete without a stop at the former home of my second favorite vampire of the Quarter (Lestat will always be first):
Jacques St. Germain.
So the story goes, St. Germain moved to the Quarter in the early 1900s. He claimed to be a descendant of Count St. Germain, a famous philosopher, alchemist, and artist who’d risen to prominence in the court of Louis XV.
While not everyone believed Jacques was a descendant of the famous Count, it was clear he was incredibly wealthy and well-educated.
Jacques could speak several languages fluently, spoke with authority on history and art, and had endless stories of his travels around the world. He was known for throwing wild, lavish parties with the finest foods and wines.
But, for as much as people enjoyed St. Germain’s company and extravagant parties, they noticed there was something off about him.
Jacques never ate or drank a drop of wine at his events. He would only drink from a flask he always kept on him, claiming he had a particular personal vintage he preferred.
And when he discussed historical events, he often spoke as if he had intimate knowledge of them—as though he had lived them.
And while these things did seem peculiar, most people wrote it off as the eccentricities of a wealthy man. After all, the guy threw a great party and who were they to complain?
But, everything changed one night when a young woman, drenched in blood, threw herself from the second-floor balcony of St. Germain’s home.
The woman dragged her broken body through the streets until she found law enforcement.
And what she told the police was so shocking, they weren’t sure what to believe.
You see, the young woman claimed Jacques St. Germain had lured her to his home, subdued her, tied her up, and attempted to slit her throat and consume her blood.
She claimed there were other women in the house he had killed with large bite marks on their necks and begged the officers to arrest him immediately.
The officers suspected the woman was likely an intoxicated sex worker who’d become a bit hysterical after a bad “date”, but promised they would investigate St. Germain.
Officers arrived at St. Germain’s home, relayed the young woman’s accusation, and asked if they could look around.
Jacques was perfectly amenable to the police and apologized for the inconvenience the young woman had caused them. And then he handed each of the officers a rather large wad of cash and asked if they could come back in the morning, as it was very late and he was tired. He swore to the officers he would answer all of their questions as soon as it was morning.
Palms sufficiently greased, the officers agreed to return first thing, as long as Jacques promised to not leave town.
Unsurprisingly, when officers returned the following morning, St. Germain was nowhere to be found and the house looked as though it had been ransacked.
Now, the story gets murky here. In some versions, officers find exsanguinated bodies and in others, they find what appears to be blood stains all over Jacques’ private quarters.
But, all stories tend to end with the same gruesome discovery…
You see, everyone believed the flask Jacques carried had to contain some incredibly fancy wine he wasn’t willing to share with guests. So, you can imagine the officer who found a secret room, filled with what appeared to be Jacques’ private wine collection, was more than a little bit excited.
Perhaps even a bit tempted to take a swig for himself before returning to the search.
Well, the officer took a swig and practically vomited after one sip.
The bottle did contain a nice vintage, but it also contained a thick, congealed, almost metallic substance that would later be determined to be blood.
And that’s the story of Jacques St. Germain.
Some say there have been sightings over the years of a man who looks and sounds like Jacques St. Germain in the Quarter. A shorter, slightly stout man who appears to be in his mid-40s, who never drinks or eats, but is always willing to cover your tab and invite you back to his place for a nightcap.
Is it possible, that the Count of legend cannot stay away from his favorite haunt? Or is it simply local lore?
Well, it’s hard to say. There’s no concrete proof Jacques St. Germain ever owned 1041 Royal. Records indicate the building was owned by an individual who owned several buildings around the Quarter, so it is possible he rented.
There was someone by the name of Jacques St. Germain who lived in the Quarter around this period, but records from the time have him listed as a laborer who lived on Rampart Street at the edge of the Quarter.
Records do indicate that at some point in the late 1800s, a middle-aged man from France by the name of Jacques St. Germain entered the country; however, we don’t know much about this individual or where he was headed. The only information we have is that he listed his occupation as “engineer”.
But, before you dismiss this story completely, don’t forget, that Count St. Germain was a very real person whose exploits and adventures were recorded by the likes of Voltaire, Casanova, Mozart, and Louis XV.
Anton Mesmer, the father of mesmerism, even credits his conversations with the Count in 1776 as the foundation for his work on the concept of magnetism.
And though his death was recorded in 1784, the Count would continue to appear throughout history.
Gabrielle Pauline d'Adhémar, known as the Comtesse d’Adhémar, was a French court official who documented encounters with St. Germain all the way to 1820 and noted how peculiar it was that St. Germain never seemed to age.
In 1821, writer Albert Vandam documents potentially exposing the Count, who appeared to be living under the name Major Fraser at the time. Fraser bore a striking resemblance to portraits of St. Germain and talked of personally knowing historical figures like Dante and Nero.
Major Fraser would eventually vanish, but supposed sightings of the Count have been recorded far beyond the Quarter for decades.
And what do these records say about the Count?
That the individual they met was a charming, intelligent man who appeared to be of middle age and spoke multiple languages fluently. That he never ate or drank a drop of wine at parties, and only drank from a flask he always kept on him.
And when he discussed historical events from the far past, he spoke as if he had intimate knowledge of them—as though he had lived them.
Perhaps, in the case of Count St. Germain, the truth really is stranger than fiction.
st. louis street and 826 n rampart street
621 St. Louis Street
I have one last story for you from the Quarter.
It’s ultimately a sad story, but the circumstances around it were so peculiar that it has become entwined with the bloody lore of the city. It’s the story of a young couple named Zack and Addie, and the gruesome murder-suicide that shook the foundations of a city in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.
Now, in order to tell this story right, we have to start with how it ends:
It was a warm, cloudy Tuesday night when Zack Bowen made his way to the rooftop bar of 621 St. Louis Street. He chatted with fellow patrons, took several shots, and bought rounds of drinks for those around him before taking a seven-story plunge onto the parking lot of the Omni Royal Hotel.
First responders came to the scene immediately but found the victim did not survive the fall. A police officer checked the victim’s pockets hoping to find a wallet with some form of identification, but instead found a pair of dog tags and a set of keys.
After a bit more searching, the officer found a folded-up piece of paper that read “Police Only” on the front and things became even more confusing.
The officer opened the letter to find the following:
This is not accidental. I had to take my own life to pay for the one I took. If you send a patrol car to 826 N. Rampart, you will find the dismembered corpse of my girlfriend Addie in the oven, on the stove, and in the fridge and a full signed confession from myself.
Zack Bowen
What led to this horrific act and what was waiting for officers at 826 North Rampart?
Well, we’ll need to go back in time just a few weeks before Hurricane Katrina would descend on New Orleans.
Our story begins in July of 2005 when Zack Bowen, an army veteran, met Addie Hall, a free-spirited, young artist and part-time bartender at the Spotted Cat on Frenchman Street.
Zack was immediately taken with Addie, despite what many would describe as her “mean way of flirting”. And after coming around quite a few times and taking her barbs with ease, his feelings were more than reciprocated.
The two became inseparable and when Katrina was about to hit land two weeks later, the pair opted to shack up in Addie’s cramped Quarter apartment instead of evacuating. It was a strange move, particularly because Zack (along with Addie) had been invited to wait out the storm with his ex-wife and children in another state. But, the two were madly in love and wanted to start building their life together as soon as possible.
Then, in the aftermath of the hurricane, Zack and Addie became local heroes. They helped residents of the Quarter get access to food and water, slung drinks for people who needed a cocktail and even photographed the destruction for national publications and participated in an interview about why they chose to stay in the city.
Things were good.
For a while.
You see, for as much time as Zack and Addie spent together during and after the storm, they didn’t really know each other. They knew a version of the other person who had no bills or responsibilities, and they overlooked a lot of glaring issues between them, blaming arguments on the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol consumed while the city was shut down.
But, for as fondly as the denizens of the Quarter remember the pair; it was no secret they tended to have explosive arguments. It’s unclear if these verbal altercations ever escalated into something more, but we do know that once life in the Quarter restarted, their fights were no longer a flash in the pan.
Bills had begun to pile up, and the two had to return to work, which meant they spent more time apart than they did together. Zack also had to go back to being a present figure in his children’s lives.
Not only did he have to think about how he would pay overdue child support, but he also had to consider how he was going to be an active part of his kids’ lives from multiple states away. See, Zack was considering moving closer to his kids before he met Addie, but she had little interest in leaving the French Quarter or being tied down by the responsibility of someone else’s children.
The fighting between the pair grew worse, but instead of going their separate ways, they decided to move to a new apartment and get a fresh start.
So, one day, as they were walking on the edge of the Quarter, they saw a “For Rent” sign over 826 North Rampart Street for the small apartment above Priestess Miriam's Voodoo Spiritual Temple and decided this was the place for their fresh start. They cobbled together months and months worth of tips and asked if they could move in immediately.
826 North Rampart Street
But, a mere two weeks into their “fresh start”, Addie discovered that Zack was not quite so committed to rekindling their passion. Zack was seeing someone else on the side, and for Addie, this was the last straw. She could tolerate the arguments, but knowing this man was trying to pin her down with all of his baggage while cheating on her was a bridge too far.
Addie met with the landlord privately and asked if she could have Zack’s name removed from the lease. She offered to take over the apartment completely, but the landlord pushed Addie to try and work things out instead. The landlord later told police that Addie had given them no reason to believe she was in any danger, and that it sounded like the two had just had a bad argument.
But, once Zack learned of Addie’s deception, things went downhill quickly.
Remember how our story began? With officers finding Zack’s body and the note?
Well, the responding officers were understandably horrified by the note and immediately called for backup.
Police quickly descended on 826 North Rampart, but despite the contents of Zack’s note, they were not prepared for what they found inside. The apartment was a mess of half-unpacked boxes and trash, and shockingly cold. Officers noticed the air conditioning had been turned down as low as possible and left on full blast.
At first, officers thought maybe Zack’s letter had misled them. There was no blood, no smell of rotting flesh, but then they noticed the silver spray paint on the walls.
I love her.
I’m a total failure.
Look in the oven.
Officers moved to the kitchen area and noticed there were several covered pots on the stove. I won’t get into the gory details, but it appeared that after Zack killed Addie, he remained in the home with her corpse for nearly two weeks before dismembering her and cooking various parts of her body.
Police also found Zack’s final confession, as promised:
“Today is Monday 16 October 2 a.m. I killed her at 1 a.m. Thursday 5 October. I very calmly strangled her. It was very quick.”
“Halfway through the task, I stopped and thought about what I was doing. The decision to halt the first idea and move to Plan B (the crime scene you are now in) came after a while. I scared myself not by the action of calmly strangling the woman I’ve loved for one and a half years, and then (desecrating) her body but by my entire lack of remorse. I’ve known for forever how horrible of a person I am — ask anyone — and decided to quit my jobs and spend the 1,500 cash I had been happy until I killed myself. So, that’s what I did: good food, good drugs, good strippers, good friends, and any loose ends I may have had. I didn’t contact any of my family. So that’ll explain the shock. And had a fantastic time living out my days … It’s just about time now.”
Given the contents of the note and the long period between the murder and Zack’s suicide, there have been rumors of necrophilia and cannibalism surrounding this murder, but according to police, there is no concrete evidence of either. The only thing we do know is that for two weeks with a body in his living room, Zack came to work regularly, hung out with friends, and told anyone who asked about Addie that she’d left New Orleans.
Now, there are some people who will claim living over a Voodoo Temple or the dark energy that seems to be at the root of so much violence in the Quarter is what caused this tragedy, and it’s easy to say with how bizarre the case is that something supernatural was involved, but the truth is much sadder than fiction.
Zack Bowen was a man with severe untreated post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). He’d served in Kosovo and Iraq, and while he’d received a NATO medal and the Presidential Unit Citation for his service, as well as a recommendation for an honorable discharge; he was given a general discharge, which meant he qualified for VA benefits, but not other GI benefits like free tuition.
And then, after two consecutive tours, Zack returned home to find that his wife, Lana, and their two children were gone. Lana had decided she was no longer interested in a man ten years her junior and decided to file for divorce and move out before he returned. He’d come back to no family, no support system, and a government that didn’t value all that he’d given for his country.
Understandably, these circumstances left Zack bitter and likely contributed to his already severe depression. He went on to work odd jobs around the Quarter and abused alcohol rather than seek out help.
It’s reasonable to assume Addie appeared to be a bright light in a dark place, but Addie was not without her own demons.
According to friends, Addie had bipolar disorder, and while she did seek treatment, she went on and off her medication frequently, which led to periods of extreme highs and lows.
Addie had been dealt a rough hand in life. She grew up in an abusive home, and from what friends reported, she’d been molested by a male relative growing up. After leaving home, Addie found herself in a string of abusive relationships that had left her fearful of letting anyone have too much control over her life again.
Both Addie and Zack were also heavy drinkers, and at some point during the aftermath of Katrina, they began to regularly use cocaine. And anyone with access to the internet can probably tell you that abusing stimulants and depressants at the same time with bipolar disorder or PTSD is a bad idea.
So, the truth is it wasn’t something supernatural; Zack and Addie had an incredibly fraught relationship and struggled with mental health issues exacerbated by alcohol and drug abuse. And while we’ll never know exactly why Zack dismembered and cooked his girlfriend after living with her corpse for two weeks, it’s not hard to imagine that someone struggling with issues of inadequacy and abandonment might want to hurt the person who hurt them first, especially after months of increasing instability.
Some people say they’ve seen Zack’s ghost pacing at the Omni Rooftop Bar, before vanishing over the edge. Others say if you visit 826 North Rampart, which is an unfortunately garish museum now, you’ll feel an unbearable coldness or see strange shadows out of the corners of your eye.
I can’t say for certain if the stories are true, but what I can say is this crime, like many others, has left an indelible mark on the Quarter and the people that live there. People knew and interacted with this couple. They saw them as good neighbors.
Margaret Sanchez, one of the couple’s closest friends, was shaken by the revelation of what Zack had done to Addie.
Interestingly enough, in 2016 Margaret and her boyfriend, Terry Speaks, were convicted of killing and dismembering a Bourbon Street dancer in June of 2012. The couple lured the woman back to their home in Kenner, stabbed her repeatedly, dismembered her body, and disposed of her remains in the Mississippi River.
Strange coincidence, right?
1140 royal street
We’ve already done a really deep dive on LaLaurie Mansion, and you can find both parts here:
But, I had to come back with at least an update for you guys about this allegedly haunted location.
If you remember, 1140 Royal Street was on the market when last we spoke. Well, she’s finally sold, and the new owner seems to be really obsessed with color changing lights (I’m not sure Delphine would approve).
Now for legal reasons, this is alleged:
And after engaging with the local community, it seems as though some of the more interesting design choices of the previous owner (like latex walls) were because it was allegedly, to put it mildly, an “adult party” destination.
Which begs the question, why would a place where some of the most brutal alleged crimes occured be a place you’d want to allegedly do really gross things with your closest friends?
And if those alleged parties, didn’t end with everyone getting cursed by Delphine LaLaurie or the many people who died there, I’m not sure we can say 1140 Royal is haunted.
And that's all she wrote...for now.
In these times, we all need a bit of joy, so if you enjoy this content and would like to support all the work that goes into this little folklore project, click the link below to contribute:
And if you just want to enjoy these stories, that’s okay too.
Stay cursed, friends.
Resources:
A Lesson in Disguise: Zack Bowen & Addie Hall by Shockingly Wicked Podcast
Jacques St. Germain, Vampire of the French Quarter by A. P. Sylvia
Margaret Sanchez pleads guilty in 2012 death, dismemberment of Jaren Lockhart by Clint Durrett
Mutinous Women: How French Convicts Became Founding Mothers of the Gulf Coast by Joan DeJean
Saint-Germain: The Immortal Count by Stephen Wagner
The Gruesome Tale of Zack Bowen and Addie Hall — And What It Says About Our Fascination with True Crime by DeLani R. Bartlette
The Horror House Of New Orleans by Jasper Wolf
When Parisian Prisoners Were Offered Freedom if they Agreed to Marry Prostitutes and Move to Mississippi by Stephanie Schoppert