5 chilling haunted houses in New Orleans

The Forgotten Mansion of Esplanade Avenue

A grand, Victorian-style mansion on Esplanade Avenue in New Orleans, overgrown with ivy and Spanish moss. The house, built in the late 1800s, was once the jewel of the city but now lies in ruins, with broken windows and a haunting, desolate aura. In one of the upper windows, include the translucent figure of a woman in a 19th-century gown, known as the “Weeping Bride,” who is said to roam the halls mourning her lost love: “Eternal love is quite the commitment when you’re stuck in a decaying mansion. Maybe ’till death do us part’ wasn’t long enough.”

The Creole Cottage of Chartres Street

A small, abandoned Creole cottage on Chartres Street in the French Quarter, with peeling pastel paint and a sagging, wrought-iron balcony. Built in the early 1800s, this once-charming home is now shrouded in mystery. A ghostly figure of a jazz musician, with a trumpet in hand, should be faintly visible in the moonlit courtyard, a nod to the home’s past as a popular musicians’ haunt in the 1920s: “I’ve played to some dead crowds in my time, but this eternal gig takes ‘lifeless audience’ to a whole new level.”

The Bayou St. John Plantation Ruins

The haunting remains of an antebellum plantation house near Bayou St. John, surrounded by wild, overgrown gardens and ancient oak trees draped in Spanish moss. Constructed in the early 1800s and abandoned after the Civil War, the mansion’s dilapidated pillars and crumbling façade are a ghostly sight. In the foreground, include the spectral figure of a Confederate soldier, rumored to wander the property searching for his lost love: “I’ve been searching for something that probably never existed. Just like the hope of fixing this old dump.”

The Decaying Mansion of St. Charles Avenue

A once-opulent mansion on St. Charles Avenue, now in a state of elegant decay, with its intricate ironwork and grand columns fading into time. Built during the height of the cotton boom in the mid-1800s, it was abandoned after a devastating family tragedy in the early 20th century. A ghostly child in Victorian attire should be seen playing in the overgrown garden, representing the youngest member of the family who is said to still inhabit the grounds: “They say childhood is magical. Mine’s been lasting over a hundred years in this dusty old wreck. Believe me, the magic wears off.”

The Lost Hospital of Treme

An abandoned, early 20th-century hospital in the Treme neighborhood, known for its history of yellow fever outbreaks. The building, with its boarded-up windows and a foreboding, institutional appearance, has been left to decay since the 1950s. In one of the broken windows, include the apparition of a nurse in a vintage uniform, who is said to still roam the halls, forever caring for patients long gone: “After decades of tending to the sick, I’m still here. Turns out, the afterlife is just another long shift with no break.”