This information originally a booklet created for a group of people brought together by a message board discussing their appreciation and fascination of a plantation in Louisiana,  “The Myrtles”.

Many thanks and much appreciation to Mary and Sandra for their time searching libraries and to the Myrtles Ghost Club for all those hours of discussion and sharing of information gathered over the years.

Several years ago while watching a Travel Channel program featuring "One of America's Most Haunted Homes", I was intrigued by a Bed & Breakfast tucked away in a quiet little town on the East Bank of the Mississippi, where a majority of the buildings are on the National Register of Historic Places about an hour north of Baton Rouge.

The possibility of many ghosts roaming the house and grounds sounded very interesting for a long weekend getaway and a reservation was made that evening for an upcoming long weekend. 

Never did I imagine that a mansion, modest in size when compared to many of the plantation homes along River Road would seduce me into returning again and again or spend hour after hour researching the families and history of this home, much less create a connection to a wonderful group of people drawn there just as I had been.  Nor was I prepared for the overwhelming sense of deja’vu that left me dizzy as we drove past the gatehouse onto the property for the first time.

This story of the Myrtles Plantation is my version of jambalaya, elements of legends, flavored with innuendo, filled with mystery, a dash of history, spiced with personal thoughts, speculation, local folklore, seasoned with conjecture and an abundance of unanswered questions.

Legend suggest that Ponce de Leon visited the Tunica Indian Villages along east bank of the mighty Mississippi River – taken with the flowing waters of the bayous, astounding flora and fauna, invigorating climate, he decided to name it “Nueva Feliciana”, meaning “New Happy Land”.  

In the early to mid 1700s, people of French and American descent began to arrive and settle along the bluffs and hills.  Word of land grants offering fertile soil and flowing waters spread following the Revolutionary War and the Treaty of 1795, offers by Spanish authorities attracted emigrants from West Florida and the western states, as well as groups from the Carolinas, Georgia and Virginia.

St. Francisville, the second oldest town originally chartered in the Florida parishes and began as a burial ground established by the Spanish Cauchins Monks and the name from the order’s gentle patron.  Raging floodwaters unearthing anything in its path, prompted the Monks to cross the river to bury the dead in the dry highland bluffs allowing the departed to rest undisturbed.   A wooden monastery was built and a settlement slowly developed around it.  This oldest town in the Florida Parishes has been referred to as ” the town two miles long and two yards wide”. 

David Bradford, a successful lawyer, businessman, and Deputy Attorney General of Washington County Pennsylvania is said to have traveled along the Mississippi River.  Bradford, possibly like Ponce deLeon was enamored with St. Francisville and in 1792 applied and received a Spanish Land Grant for 500 prime acres for a mere $1.40 an acre - well laid plan or just good timing?

 “General” Bradford not long after the land purchase found himself deeply embroiled in the Whiskey Rebellion for refusing to pay taxes on spirits.  With the insurrection, Bradford faced the threat of arrest; he once again traveled south, this time a fugitive from Justice, Bradford landed at the Mississippi River port of Bayou Sara over one thousand miles from Washington DC returning to West Feliciana to build a home for his family.

Even though still referred to as General Bradford, it seems he may have come by this rank by way of an election by farmers and Militia during the Whiskey Rebellion rather than actually serving in Washington’s Continental Army.

The Tunica Indians before his arrival had inhabited Bradford’s tract of land.  It is said that this tribe flattened their heads and except for ceremonial occasions walked nearly naked with the hair worn long down the back.  They buried their dead in the ground, in shallow ground with carefully prepared goods in the grave and dressing the deceased in elaborate attire.  A knife would have buried with a man to hold off attack on his journey to the next world, as well as personal items, eating utensils, saddlery and sundries.

According to custom, a fire was lighted at the graveside to light the way for the soul at night for four nights – the length of time traditions taught was needed until the soul would reach the spirit world and a temple with a sacred fire and gods of the Sun, Thunder, Fire, Sky and Earth had been erected.

General Bradford, wishing to avoid the floodwaters, had chosen the land for the fertile soils that would reward him with bountiful harvests and higher elevation to protect the home when the river flooded its banks.  The highest point of this tract chosen by Bradford to construct his mansion is said to have been the Tunica’s Scared Burial Ground.

Stories passed on indicate that General Bradford having determined this was the spot to build, unearthed the remains from this sacred ground, sweeping away generations of Native American history, with little regard for the deceased piled the bones and burned them.  Folklore and speculation tell us the Indians unable to defend the sacred resting place of their ancestors called upon their spirits to curse Bradford and his house.

Bradford may have avoided the curse, but is reported to be the first to encounter a ghost on the land – that of a naked Indian maiden wandering the grounds.

Today visitors are said to have had glimpse now and then of a nude, well-endowed Indian maiden wandering aimlessly near the gazebo on a small dry patch of land accessible only by bridge in the center of the pond.

 When contemplating Bradford’s letters and his mention of illness for an extended period of time, makes me wonder, did he actually avoid the Indian curse?  Could it be that he encountered the spirit of one or more of the ghosts angry over the desecration of their graves and remains, which contributed, to his ill health?

In 1796, construction began on what is called the “older” section of the house atop a rolling hill, nestled under centuries old Live Oaks, a home we have come to know as The Myrtles.   The kitchen building pre-dates the house by two years. 

The first half of the house, the “older” section, consisted of two floors, each with four large rooms.   The ground level consisted of a Ladies’ Parlor, a Gentleman’s Parlor, a Dining Room and the Gaming Room divided by a walled stairway leading up the second level offering four large bedrooms, two on each side separated by a large cedar planked foyer.

According to The National Register of Historic Places Bradford originally named the plantation “Richland”, but according to Stirling family notes the land may have been known as “Laurel Grove”. 

Because the plantation was a commercial enterprise, record keeping was essential. Many planters kept journals, crop books, overseers’ journals, and account books in remarkable detail. Family members often kept personal diaries and corresponded extensively with friends and relatives near and far, but if these records exist from Bradford’s time, they have been secured and not available leaving many details uncertain.

David and his wife, Elizabeth are thought to have had eleven, possibly more children.  Abelard, Jane, Sophia, Sarah Mathilda (m. Clark Woodruff), Edmund, David (m. *Amanda Jane Davis, one of the sisters of Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States), Eliza, Octavia and James are the only known names. 

As you tour the home, the story unfolds and possibly the first known consequence of the curse of the plantation being built on the ancient Tunica burial ground, cursed the moment the a white man, Bradford took over, surround Sarah Mathilda said to be the youngest child and only female. 

But in letters written by Bradford to his friend in Pennsylvania, Redick, add to the confusion concerning the number of children, order of birth and their names.  In his letter dated Feb 9, 1803 he writes:

"Inform Madam Redick that Mrs. B has the most charming little girl we ever had. She is named Octavian. The 12th I intend on calling Duadeumon."

Considering the possibility "Duadeumon" is a misspelling or alternate spelling of "duodenum", which, although it's modern usage is for part of the intestine, its roots are in Middle English by way of Medieval Latin and does refer to the number twelve.

Octavia very well may have been the eleventh child.  Why would she be called the eighth child (Octavia) if she were the eleventh?  Could she have been the eighth girl and three previous girls had died?  If the statement about a child drowning on the trip down the Mississippi is correct, or the death of a child in Pensacola is indeed fact, then Octavia was not the eighth child.   The last three children, Eliza, Octavia and James were born at the Louisiana Plantation, following the birth of Sarah Mathilda.

More conflict comes from statements in a collection of articles in the Observer - Reporter Newspaper of Washington, Pennsylvania,  “David and Elizabeth Bradford had at least eleven children, six while in Washington Pennsylvania and five more after their arrival here in Louisiana in 1803” and “David and Elizabeth lived on the plantation with their daughter (Sarah Mathilda) and their ten (10) sons, one of which was David Bradford, Jr.”

There is much speculation that Elizabeth Bradford may have established a family cemetery on the grounds, exact location is unknown and unconfirmed.  The grassy area lined with oaks to the left as you drive on to the property is thought to be the general vicinity, archeology students from LSU tend to think the location is behind the Carriage House, under what is now the Garden Rooms, locals say the Bradford Cemetery lies beneath a housing development in adjacent property once belonging to the plantation.

Walking the grounds, myself and others are drawn to the grassy lane lined with moss draped oaks, scattered with Crepe Myrtles with a solitary statue placed at wood’s edge.

The construction of the Garden Rooms was not an easy task.  Numerous, unexplained delays and accidents plagued the construction, extending a one year project well beyond it’s projected completion date.

David Bradford’s letters to his friend lead us to believe that he was in ill health for a long period of time.   An early February 1808, New Orleans newspaper lists David’s death at the age of 53.  We know that he “signed” his will in December 1807.    Often his date of death is listed as eight years later, but the 1816 date would have been when his will was read and properties disbursed.

The difference of eight years was due to legal problems with the will and his signature.  It is said that the doctor, due to his weaken state held David’s hand, guiding his signature to the document and wife Elizabeth made adjustments to the will after it was signed.

The document below might be related to legal inquiries concerning the validity of Bradford’s Last Will and Testament, had those witnessing the possible forced signature or changes as to who would inherit what notified authorities?

Documents on file at the LSU Library include a personal letter written by David Bradford detailing the disbursement of his property in Pennsylvania.  Papers include Spanish land grants, surveys, plats, conveyances, appraisals, and mortgages for land owned by David Bradford and family, chiefly in West Feliciana and East Baton Rouge parishes.  Some items pertain to the settlement of the estate of David Bradford and the disposition of his property among heirs including Harrison, James M., Elizabeth, Eliza,
Octavia, Edmund, David, James B., Leonard, Isham, Samuel, and Charles M. Bradford, and Nancy Reams.

Land records indicate that Elizabeth bought the land in West Feliciana for $8000 – December 3, 1816.

In an article from Louisiana Life, it tells of a young man who had come to the Myrtle’s to study law under Bradford’s tutelage succumbed to the charms of the only daughter among his 11 children.

Clark Woodruff, born August 23, 1791 in Litchfield, Connecticut.  An account from his home news paper states, “Removed 1810 from Litchfield to St. Francisville where in the summer of 1811 an advertisement appeared in “The Time Piece” wherein he “respectfully informs the public that his academy will open the first Monday in September next for the reception of students”.  He proposed to teach English Grammar, Geography, Astronomy, Elocution, Composition and Penmanship, Latin and Greek.

The historical tours convey that Clark Woodruff came to St. Francisville to study law with Bradford.  This and the article above conflict, unless he arrived before Bradford’ death in 1808 studied law, returned to Connecticut and then came back to St. Francisville in 1810.   If the notice above is accurate, then it is possible Woodruff may not have known David Bradford.

Research indicates that Woodruff may have served with the Bradford brothers during the Civil War and was a friend of Jefferson Davis. 

The story goes that while studying law with General Bradford, Clark, was smitten with young Sarah Mathilda.  Clark Woodruff (26) married Sarah Matilda Bradford (19) in 1817.  Records indicate that Sarah Matilda Bradford Woodruff purchased the plantation in 1817, but the National Register of Historic Places state the date as 1826.

Rumor has it that mention of a fire that destroyed part of the home in the 1800s when both Bradford and Woodruff family members lived in the home.   What we have not confirmed is the possibility that two children and possibly a mother died of smoke inhalation in that fire, nor their names or relationship to either the Bradford or Woodruff’s.

“A mother and her two children were killed in a fire when part of the plantation burned down.”

Might the two children referred to be Bradford’s or Woodruff's?   Could they be the little one’s dressed in white, frilly pinafores that peak in windows and enjoy wedding receptions held at the plantation?  Correspondence from The Bradford House Organization indicated that Bradford’s Pennsylvania family might have destroyed any reference to David and his family due to his involvement with the Whiskey Rebellion, leaving many questions and dead ends concerning his descendants.

On a recent stay at the Myrtles as a guest in the William Winters or Peach Room, the odor of wood smoke was strong.  While the rooms do have fireplaces, neither wood nor fire have been placed there in almost a hundred years.

When Woodruff purchased the plantation from Mrs. Bradford for a mere $2.50 per acre, he added crops of indigo and cotton.  Judge Clark Woodruff appears in the census for 1820 and 1830, Woodruff listed occupation as teacher, lawyer, judge and friend of Andrew Jackson.

Sarah Mathilda and Woodruff are said to have been very fruitful with their lives and their plantation; they had three young children, an estimated 5,000 acres, with 450 field slaves and fifty house servants.

Legend has it although Woodruff had a reputation in the region for integrity with men and with the law, he was also known for being promiscuous.  Historical references of this era have shown us that the practice of intimate relationships between plantation owners and

slaves was not uncommon.  Clarke Woodruff is said to have participated in this practice much to his wife’s disapproval.

Her age would have been approximated 13 years old when Chloe caught the eye of her master.  Chloe was a household servant, caring for the children of Clark and Sarah Mathilda, Mary Octavia, James and Cornelia - a very treasured position on the plantation.

Preferring a place as a household servant, she feared being sent to work in the fields, the most brutal of the slave's work if she refused the sexual advances of the Judge.  It is said she succumbed and became his mistress, thereby securing her place in the home.

Possibly feeling knowledge was power; Chloe often listened in business and family conversations, a dangerous practice which would eventually lead to disfigurement and being sent to work the fields, planting and harvesting the profitable cotton and indigo.

Judge Woodruff, either due to his wife’s displeasure with his slave mistress or he eventually tired of Chloe and moved on to another.  Chloe’s position in the home was extremely perilous at this point, Sarah Mathilda was not happy with her, the Judge no longer desired her.

Chloe desperate to maintain her place in the home began eavesdropping on the Woodruff family’s private conversations, fearing she would hear mention of her name and plans of possible dismissal to the fields.

 She may have felt to preserve her influence and power; she foolishly collected information whenever she could – going so far as to monitor the Judge’s private business discussions with neighboring plantation owners, overseerers and planters.  Chloe, from past efforts had learned to move the massive parlor door just enough to hear.  On one dark day, hearing the Judge’s angry voice raised with a planter, Chloe allowed her urgent desire to hear more details, slide the door open too far – the Judge saw her.

Punishment was fierce, painful and disfiguring.  The Judge ordered her left ear to be cut off and ordered that Chloe be cast out of the house and would be sent to the fields.  Ichabod has been brought up on some tours as the Judge’s “nephew” and overseer of the plantation.  Was this order was carried out by Woodruff’s relative Ichabod?

Ichabod Woodruff is listed in the funeral records of Grace Episcopal Church that lists the funeral date as November 21, 1850, 61 years of age c. 1789, buried in St. Francisville, Louisiana. 

Chloe somehow managed to hold on to kitchen access for a time, wearing a green turban to hide the missing ear and a gold loop earring was placed in the remaining ear.

The ninth birthday of Mary Octavia gave Chloe an opportunity to try to win back her place, in the home with the children she had grown fond of.  Chloe entered the kitchen and began to prepare a special cake for the birthday girl.  Added to the ingredients for the cake batter she mixed the juices from the oleander leaf. Chloe was aware that the liquid from the leaf of the oleander in small measure would make everyone ill.  With the family suffering illness, she planned to offer her services to care for the family and nurse them back to health with herbs. Chloe believed that the grateful Woodruffs would then see her as a powerful voodoo priestess, and she would be allowed to resume her former standing in the home.  

One slight problem, Chloe evidently unfamiliar with poisons placed too much oleander in the cake.

Many say the Judge was away in New Orleans on business, others say he was seeing to the business of the plantation – either way the Judge did not partake of the cake, nor did the birthday girl, Mary Octavia, only Sarah Mathilda, Cornelia and James died after eating the cake. 

The two younger children, James, Cornelia and their mother Sarah Mathilda, each had slices of the tainted cake. By the end of the day, all of them were very sick.   If the oleander was indeed intended to make them ill, so that Chloe could tend to them and maintain her household status, she had miscalculated and sealed her fate … it was only hours before all three were dead.

health, imagining the family would be ever grateful and dependant on her skills of healing. 

The word spread like wildfire among the household and field slaves of Chloe’s crime.  Some say it was born of fear, others feel it was out of respect and consideration for the Judge and the motherless daughter left behind … either way to avoid punishment themselves, a group of slaves took the distraught Chloe to a nearby massive oak tree on the plantation grounds, they secured a rope to a gnarled limb.  Chloe’s young life came to an end that night, by the hands of the other slaves.   The folklore tells us that it was much later when Chloe’s lifeless body was cut down from the tree, the body was weighted with large rocks and thrown into the Mississippi River two miles away from the only home she had ever known.

 Chloe’s human form may have been tossed into the currents of the river, but it is said that her spirit remains with the house – protecting the children that visit.

One account has it that Chloe poisoned the cake out of revenge intending to kill the family, either due to the Judge tiring of her and taking on a new mistress or angry that he ordered her ear severed and being banished to the fields. 

Yet another version states that (Mary) Octavia was the illegitimate daughter of Chloe and Clark – guesstimate would have Chloe between ten (10) and twelve (12) years of age when she gave birth.  No records of Chloe’s actual age have been located, but it is told that she was about sixteen (16) years when she was hung.  Supposedly the story of Chloe is documented in a journal of a neighboring plantation, but this is unconfirmed.  Local historians indicate that no record of a slave by the name Chloe exists.

A local historian calls the poisoning “hogwash”’, saying it is more likely that Judge Woodruff’s wife died during childbirth and the girls passed away in a yellow fever epidemic more than a year apart.  Yet a docent of the Myrtles stated that copies of the death certificates reflect the same date of death, but that a newspaper article cited the deaths to be of yellow fever and on dates separated by many months.  Without reviewing the actual certificates, this cannot be confirmed.   The official records are unclear and oral histories passed down are considered to be factually unreliable.

A consistent discrepancy is that two little girls died from the poisoned cake, but research indicates differently.  Even the tour guides at the Myrtles comment on this issue, stating maybe the confusing comes from the fact that in this era young males were attired in clothing that would resemble a dress.

The most common reported sightings of two children dressed in white are noted as females, indicating long curls and white dresses.  It would be difficult to determine if the sightings are a result of the legend or if two female children of different families choose to "play" together.

On a visit in 2003, two members of the MGC opted not to join the Haunted tour that evening, the opted to leave their door open so that they could hear the docent as she told the tour group the history of the Myrtles.  Their room for that evening, the Bradford Suite is located at the top of the stairs of the main foyer where the tour begins.

Not once or twice, but several times an employee of the Myrtles ventured up those stairs looking around and not appearing to be very happy.  One the last trip up to the second floor the employee asked the two if they had children with them, the ladies responded "no".  When asked if the two had seen children running in the upper foyer, they again responded "no".  The guests inquired as to why the questions were asked, according to the employee, the sounds of children running on the second floor interrupted the docent's narrative as the tour moved through the lower level of the house.  The last visit to the second floor had been prompted by the sound of a loud crash from the second floor.

These two guests were the only people on the second floor during the tour. Other than employee's venture to the second floor and the sounds of the tour group, the reported noises had not been heard. 

  Records indicate that Mary Octavia survived, married and had children of her own.  An original letter written by Octavia eluded that she pledged An Oath of Allegiance to save the plantation where she resided as an adult in the Covington, LA area.  The letter mentions her daughter refusing the Yankee callers, yet by the end of the letter the same daughter marries, moves north, never to return to the south.

Another lady who also shares a passion for The Myrtles recalls during a tour while in New Orleans, visited a home thought to be called the Octavia House.  The guide’s story made mention of Octavia being a quadroon with ties to The Myrtles Plantation.  At this point in time, the assumption is the two Octavia's are not related.

Over the years, some feel that due to her horrible punishment and death, that Chloe’s ghost remains behind, refusing to leave.  Often visitors allege to “feel” the presence of Chloe.  To this day, Chloe is blamed for missing objects, most notable the loss of one earring.  A long time employee and tour guide at The Myrtles has been part of the daily routines through three successive owners, agrees.  It is said that she feels that Chloe is the one plucking hair ornaments off the heads of unsuspecting young ladies enjoying the tour of the home.  Frequently hair ribbons and clips are in place when the girls enter the home, but by the tour’s end the hair ornaments are missing.  Retracing their paths and searches of the rooms, do not locate the lost articles.

And yet one more theory contends that at The Myrtles that the vengeful Chloe may be trying to get back at the Judge’s children for causing her so much grief by eating too much of the poisoned cake; Chloe only picks on the girls on tour-never the boys.

The gaming room also served as the children’s dining room, this is the room where the fatal dessert was served.  When the Judge learned of the circumstances of the death of his wife and small children, he ordered the room closed and sealed never to be used again as long as he lived in the house.

Southern custom was to cover all mirrors in a home when a death(s) had occurred, a tradition normally carried out by the lady of the house.  Mary Octavia was only nine years old and probably not aware of the tradition, even if she had been instructed of such custom, she had lost her mother and two siblings on her birthday – their deaths brought about by a cake, baked to celebrate her special day. 

The large gilded mirror that hung in the main dining room was not covered that fateful day and according to legend has trapped the spirits of the mother and her children.

Today that mirror hangs in the main foyer.

While those see eerie handprints and faces in the glass that tour the home lend to the atmosphere of the mystery and legends.

Considering that two hundred years ago the glass used would not have been perfect, the flaws would be apparent in waves or ripples in the glass, being porous enough to soak up and hold the natural oils from the glassmakers hands as they applied the silvering for reflective purposes could possibly explain the appearance of the imperfections.  Several versions of how the images in the mirror have evolved are very intriguing.

The first being that the mirror glass was resilvered in one of the several restorations of the house, only to have the images reappear; another that the glass was replaced entirely and the mirror was stored in the basement for many months waiting to take it’s place in the grand foyer.  When the newly replaced mirror was retrieved, the owners were stunned to find the very same impressions in the new glass that had existed in the old.

A clarification is required here, unless a well-guarded secret, the house has no basement and access to the attic space would be too small to have stored such a large piece.

For now it is my thought that the original glass was left intact, possibly resilvered which might explain the reoccurrence of the images.  As to the images themselves, they are intriguing – could it be the spirits of Sarah Mathilda, Cornelia and James trapped in the glass that was left uncovered on the day of their deaths?

This infamous mirror is photographed hundreds of times each week, photographs with reflections of men in uniform in the doorway or ladies in full skirted gowns midway up the staircase, others with down right creepy images have been shared by visitors over the years.

From the book, The Haunting of Louisiana,   “They were so superstitious in the early 1800s-not only here at The Myrtles, but throughout the South-they strongly believed that whenever someone died on the plantation grounds, that all mirrors needed to be covered with a black cloth.  If they weren’t covered, the spirit of the deceased could enter the mirror and be trapped in the home.”  “During the time of the poisoning of Sara and her daughters, there was so much confusion that this mirror was left uncovered.  It’s believed those people’s souls still live inside this section of the mirror.”

For added emphasis, Hester lays her hand on the mirror, index finger pointing to dark discolorations in the glass bearing a marked resemblance to small handprints.  The Clarence Darrow of tour guides slowly traces the mirror’s evolution step by step. “This is the original frame; the glass looks very old, but it’s not.  It was replaced eight years ago, and each time a new glass has been placed back into that frame, the handprints reappear.”

Chloe's ghost has been reported at the Myrtles and may have been photographed by the current owner.  Photos taken by the current owner not long after moving in to document the proximity of adjacent buildings to the home for a fire code rating from the courtyard of the house shows a shadowy figure in a turban standing near the building. 

A shadowy, turbaned female shape was captured in the passageway between the main house and the old kitchen building.  The figure in the photo appears to be transparent; the clapboard siding of the house is seen through the shape of the body.  Thinking this only a photographic flaw or light casting shadow, the collection of photos was carefully reviewed.  It is suggested that photos taken from many different angles each contained the same shadowy image.  There were so many requests to see the turbaned ghost that the photo is now sold in the gift shop in postcard form.

At the end of the Mystery Tour held on the weekends at The Myrtles, photographs are shared.  A large photograph is presented to the group, the photograph is the same as the postcard, and only this version has markings and measurements depicting the details of the shadowy form.  Depending on the guide, an FBI agent or a National Geographic photographer once a guest at the bed and breakfast studied this photo; the markings were a scientific approach to determine if indeed this could be a human like form.  The conclusion being that it was a female form, listing what they determined to be the dimensions, height and weight of a small woman.

Some articles suggest that a Mammy was brought in to care for the surviving child, Mary Octavia following the deaths of her Mother and Chloe and that this slave like Chloe wore a green turban, possibly to cover her ears disfigured either by frostbite or punishment by a previous master, leaving the identity of the mysterious female shadow is uncertain.

You may hear innuendo that Judge Woodruff had a daughter by Chloe, but there is absolutely no evidence of this. However, he and Sarah Bradford Woodruff did have a third daughter who lived to adulthood.

Is it possible that there were two Octavia’s?  Or were Mary and Octavia twins or sisters.  One account mentions the “Twin Room” in the house, but the available genealogy does not account for twins in the Bradford or Woodruff lines.  A portrait in the French day room is labeled as Octavia Woodruff Besancon.  Could it be that the name Mary was left off due to spaces issues?  Listed in Bradford’s heirs is an Octavia, could this be the Octavia that was engaged to Sterling West?

An article from Travel, D magazine states “Later, during an impromptu tour, the guide mentioned that psychics say the figure flitting about that room (the French day room) is Woodruff’s eldest daughter, Octavia, killed because she was the illegitimate spawn of the judge and Chloe, a black governess to Woodruff’s children as well as his mistress.”

Another frequent visitor to The Myrtles recalls a tour while in New Orleans, before she was even aware of the plantation in St. Francisville that took them to a home.  The guide’s story told of a quadroon named Octavia has lived in the house and that this woman had ties to The Myrtles.

An Internet search did locate Octavia House; 2000 Octavia Street, New Orleans, Louisiana is a turn of the century mansion located in gracious tree-lined uptown New Orleans. The homes in this section were once the city residences of up-river planters and their Creole companions.  Unfortunately the house is now a private residence and confirmation could not be obtained if indeed this Octavia was connected to The Myrtles or if, as the street name suggests, Octavia was just a common name.  Coincidence, possibly, but worthy of mention none the less.

One account has it that Octavia Woodruff was betrothed to Sterling West in 1820; he was stabbed to death in a poker game or over a gambling debt and died in the doorway between the foyer and dining room.  Not long after, the bride to be was either murdered or committed suicide in the French day room.  From data gathered it is possible that this may have been Octavia Bradford rather than Woodruff and it is supposed that both Bradfords and Woodruffs resided in the home for a period of time.

The local historians remain skeptical about the presence of ghosts at The Myrtles; they agree the house has a sad history, citing bizarre incidents and unnatural deaths that have occurred in the home.

On May 23, 1825, Clark Woodruff purchased more land adjacent to The Myrtles.  He and Mary Octavia lived at the plantation for another nine (9) years.  On January 1^st, 1834 Woodruff sold the plantation to Ruffin G. Sterling for $46,853.00.  The Judge and his daughter, Mary moved to New Orleans.

Records do indicate that Mary Octavia moved to New Orleans with Judge Woodruff and that she married Lorenzo Augustus Besancon of Copperstown, New York on May 10^th, 1838.  Records also tell us that two of their children were born in Natchez, which is about 60 miles north of St. Francisville – giving me pause to wonder, why would she have traveled over a hundred miles from to New Orleans to Natchez for the birth?  Transportation would have been by steamboat up the Mississippi River or by horse drawn carriage either way the trip would have been long and travel arduous.  It could be that the intense heat and humidity of the summer months or even business dealings took the Besancon family, as well as many of the well to do families of New Orleans, out of the city.

Clark Woodruff died Nov 25 1851, at Oaklawn Plantation, near Carrollton, Louisiana and was interred at Girod Cemetery in New Orleans – but his remains were not to rest in the Crescent City.   Approximately thirty five years ago surviving family members were contacted and told that the cemetery residents would have to be moved to make way for the New Orleans Super Dome.  According to a Myrtles guide, no one stepped forward to claim Clark Woodruff or offer space in a family crypt.  His current resting place is unknown.  According to the docent, the remains of those unclaimed were gathered and placed in a mass grave elsewhere in New Orleans.

 Employees and visitors feel that the spirit of Sarah Mathilda still lingers.  The sweet aroma - like honeysuckle or roses is said to announce Sarah Mathilda’s presence.  Possibly her favorite perfume or flowers she chose to have throughout the house –the fragrances are most often accompanied by the sound of crying – yet the neither the fresh flowers nor small children are present.

From an issue of the October, 1984 Wall Street Journal there is mention of The Myrtles; “Yet longtime neighbors who have seen firsthand the strange happenings at the Myrtles are loath to attribute them to ghosts. Mamie Thompson, an eightyish Southern belle who sips sherry and who likes gentlemen callers to present flowers, says, "As a child, we always heard about the little Negro girl with no ears." Miss Thompson recalls that she once saw the lights at the
Myrtles flash off and on, even though no one was home. Still, she drawls,
"everyone knows there's no such thing as ghosts."

Property records indicate that in January of 1834 Woodruff sold it to Ruffin Gray Stirling for $46,853.

The Stirling family held the plantation until 1894.  The Stirling’s were a wealthy family in the Louisiana area. They are said to have owned several great plantations, as well as a townhouse in Natchez.  It was Ruffin Gray Stirling who renamed "Richland" "The Myrtles”.  

When Ruffin Gray Stirling purchased the plantation, a wing was added on to the house, it is thought that he changed the name from Richland to The Myrtles to reflect the abundance Crepe Myrtle trees planted throughout the grounds surrounding the home.

An article from the February 1990 issue of Louisiana Life tells us that, “Ruffin was a wealthy cotton planter who farmed thousands of acres with some 500 slaves and who had close blood ties to the families at nearby Wakefield and Oakley Plantations.  After the Civil War the family at the Myrtles was heavily in debt; Ruffin Stirling had died of consumption in 1854 and his widow had invested heavily in unprofitable and war ravaged sugar cane plantations across the river.  Of nine children, only four lived long enough to marry; the eldest son Lewis died at 23 in the same year as his father, and daughter Sarah Mulford’s husband William Drew Winter was- it’s true – called out to the front gallery to be shot and killed by an anonymous visitor during the reconstruction era.

Soon the place was lost by a Stirling son’s overindulgence, it was said in a game of chance, or perhaps it was simply too deeply in debt for the family to hold onto. “

Ruffin was married to Mary Catherine Cobb, their children are listed as Ruffin, Henry, Lewis, Mary Ann, Stephen, William and Sarah Mulford.  Once again we find different accounts as to the number and gender of children, some researchers say that The Stirling’s had nine children, eight boys and one girl, Sarah.

Another source list nine children; going on to say that only four lived to marry.  There are references that Lewis was the only one of seven sons to survive the Civil War, but this statement leads to unresolved discrepancies.  The Stirling’s were repetitive with male names lending to the confusion.

Ruffin, Sr. died of consumption in 1854; burial records at Grace Episcopal Church list that son Lewis died the same year of yellow fever.          Some rumors indicate that Lewis Stirling was also a gambler; The Myrtles was well known for its parties and grand celebrations from journals at nearby plantations.  There are questions concerning whether Lewis Stirling may have been shot in dining room rather than the death of yellow fever as told by descendants.

The Stirling’s wealth allowed hired craftsmen to add the beauty and opulence to the house as well as incorporating elements born of superstition or as a result of the numerous deaths that had already occurred in the home.

An excerpt from the July 2001 edition of the Baton Rouge Library Weekly,

“As you look around the mansion, you can see the effort that went into protecting the family. It is particularly apparent in the downstairs “morning room” where a chandelier with angels sits high in the center as if stretching out an arm of protection.  It is said that all the keyholes in the doors were turned upside down, and had covers added, in order to keep out the evil spirits.  In the plasterwork, leafs have been molded, symbolizing safety and friendship.  Much effort went into warding off the wickedness that had befallen throughout the homes history, yet the tragedies continued.”

And from The National Parks Service,   “The house itself is a broad, low, rambling frame mansion with a clapboard exterior and was built in two halves. The first half, which was built in 1796, forms the western six bays of the main façade. These were increased in size due to mid-19th-century restoration, when the house also received a southward extension that almost doubled its size. An exceptional cast-iron railing of elaborate grape-cluster design supports the unusually long gallery. It is the interior detailing, however, which is perhaps the most important feature of the Myrtles Plantation. Most of the ground floor rooms have fine marble, arched mantles in the Rococo Revival style, with central console keystones or cartouches. Most of the rooms have plaster-ceiling medallions, no two of which are the same. All of the flooring and most of the windows in the house are original. The Myrtles Plantation is an outstanding example of the expanded raised cottage form that characterized many Louisiana plantation houses by the mid-19th century. The plantation house is touted as one of the most haunted houses in America, as it was the scene of a Reconstruction-era murder and other more natural deaths that have entered into local folklore over the years. Restored to its 1850s grandeur, complete with fine French furnishings and chandeliers.”

“A period of residency with a surviving daughter in the Crescent City probably provided the inspiration for some improvements effected on The Myrtles at this time, which seem to show New Orleans townhouse-type influence.  It was during this period that the ornate iron grillwork was added to decorate the front gallery” is mentioned in the book, Haunted Inns of the Southeast and is thought to be a reference to Mary Octavia Woodruff Besancon.

A Tourist’s Guide to West Feliciana Parish references, “In 1834 The Myrtles was purchased by Ruffin Gray Stirling whose extensive remodeling in the 1850s added a large central hallway and southern section of the home as well as additional double and single dormers upstairs.  It was Stirling who was responsible for the elaborate frieze work embellishing the ceiling of each room.  This fine plasterwork is thought to have been done by the same skilled craftsman who decorated the ballroom at Afton Villa (Gothic home of the Barrow family that burned in 1963).

The front gallery with its grape-cluster grillwork extends an incredible 107 feet.  From it, an entrance door boasting 1875 Cross of Lorraine stained glass panels opens into the broad entrance hall.  The matching parlors have twin Carrara marble mantles, ceiling medallions and frieze work. “

Ruffin Stirling has been described as “kind and jovial”.  Mention was made he might be most remembered for an incident that had him falling from a steamboat into the river.

During the Stirlings residency the acreage was increased to approximately five thousand acres, possibly extending the property to Bayou Sara as well as suggesting the purchase of several hundred more slaves to work the land and as household servants.

For a time the Stirling’s found themselves fortunate, prosperous and content at The Myrtles, but the War of Northern Aggression would soon introduce this family to death and tragedy.

Sarah Stirling met and fell in love with William Drew Winter, an attorney from St. Louis; she believed that life was perfect.  The wedding celebration, held June 3rd, 1852 at the Myrtles, was said to be the social event of the decade.  The couple settled into wedded bliss.

This union lead to the birth of their children listed as Mary Stirling, Sarah Bowman, Kate Lyle, Ruffin Sterling, William and Francis Anderson.  They resided in what is still referred to as, “the new section of the house” even though well over one hundred years old.  The bedroom and nursery of William and Sarah is now called the Woodruff Suite, even though this part of the house did not exist during the Woodruff’s time in the house.

Winters a graduate of Harvard Law in 1839, as his predecessors at the Myrtles, practiced law.  Assuming the war had a major impact on his law practice and the plantations productivity, records indicate that William Winter was declared bankrupt on December 23, 1867.

In 1864 the War Between the States erupted. The Yankees annihilated ill-prepared southern river communities. Messages of horror were reported from nearby Vicksburg, where mothers and children were forced to leave their homes and live in caves while death and pilfering ravaged on around them.   Soon the battles moved to the waters of Bayou Sara as Union troops fired upon St. Francisville. With attack on homes imminent, every man old enough to carry a gun joined forces, passionately committed to protecting his wife and children from the aggressive slaughter.

Stories passed down say that seven of the eight Stirling sons bravely left home to join the Confederate army, but only one, Lewis, would return to the Myrtles.

Some say a year later Lewis was gunned down in the dining room as the family watched in horror.  

Even though a doctor lived at nearby Rosedown Plantation, legend suggest that William and Sarah’s daughter, Kate was suffering from yellow fever and that Sarah desperate to save her child, begged one of the slaves to contact another plantation and have a slave known for her voodoo come to save Kate.  “That night after dark, the frantic, rhythmic beat of drums by the slaves sent an urgent message to slaves at neighboring Solitude Plantation.

If on your visit to the Myrtles you happen to be a guest in the Caretaker’s Cabin, you may awaken to the rhythmic vibrations and sounds that could be associated to drums.   No need to get up and venture out to determine the source, it is only felt and heard inside the cabin.

The voodoo priestess, Cleo arrived at the Myrtle’s to try to save the child.  Her Gris Gris or medicine did not work and Kate succumbed to the fever and died in what is now called the William Winters or the Peach Room.  Overcome with grief, anger and devastation of the loss of her child, that it has been said that Sarah ordered Cleo be hung from the chandelier in the very room that young Kate was lost to the ravages of yellow fever.   As with Chloe before her, Cleo’s body was thrown into the river.  The photo below is the chandelier from that room.  From Kermeen's book concerning the ghosts of the Myrtles there is confusion with Cleo and Chloe.  The book refers to Chloe as Cleo.  From our research we feel that Chloe and Cleo were two different people and involved with different family deaths.

The OxBow Carriage House Restaurant is in close proximity to the house, over looking the courtyard and pond and as the name indicates was originally the carriage house.

In 2005 The Oxbow relocated into St. Francisville, another restaurant escaping the effects of Katrina now resides in the old carriage house.

On our visit to The Myrtles in November we were told of an experience of an employee that had occurred recently.  A waitress encountered a woman standing in the bar area, this woman was distressed and asking “why do they not speak of me any longer?”  The waitress, not understanding the question or cause of distress, asked this woman to wait a moment allowing her to call for the manager.  When the employee turned to go in search of the manager, he was approaching the waitress and the woman.  As the waitress tried to explain to the manager that the woman was upset and asking questions, the manager looked around the employee and asked, “what woman?” 

He had seen no one but the lone employee standing in the room. 

A description by the employee, was a heavy framed, black woman – could this have been Cleo?   Unfortunately the “story” of the voodoo priestess being called to save Kate is no longer part of the ‘Haunted Tour program’ due to unwanted occult interest and issues that this particular story drew.  While the employees of the Oxbow would not discuss the possibilities of ghosts at the Myrtles, the current staff has stories of their own since they've come to the plantation.

If while visiting the Myrtles you are a guest in the William Winters Room you may wake up feeling feverish and push the covers away.  Don’t be surprised if you wake again to find yourself tucked in gently by unseen hands.  Some guests have reported the sounds of a child’s voice or that of a woman reciting the Lord’s Prayer.  Even a playful bounce has been experienced, as if a small child is jumping on the bed.

On January 26^th, 1871 at 7:30pm, someone rode up on horseback and called out that they required the help of a lawyer.  William Winters is said to have walked out of the house on to the veranda to see who was calling for an attorney and was hit in the chest by a shot gun blast.   The guides go on to tell that Winters struggled making his way to his wife who was on the second floor.  Sarah hearing the gunshot had come out of her room to find William as he reached the seventeenth step, only to die in her arms.

It is doubtful that Winters made it into the house, the consensus is that he died on the verandah where he was shot.  Family notes disagree - one stating he was teaching a Sunday School class, the other that he was involved in a card game.  Due to the time of day, it is more likely a game of cards was in play