(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Night has fallen, and the moon is a glowing golden orb in the black sky. See how it shines on the dark back roads of America, and on one road in particular. Come with us, and we'll take a walk down the moonlit road, for the night is waiting. And the moon is full. The Moonlit Road presents episode 50, The Slave Girl, written by Craig Dominey and told by Veronica Byrd.
When folks think about the American South, one image that always comes to mind is the old plantation house. Before the Civil War devastated the South, the plantation homes were about the closest thing America had to magical European palaces. But what some folks don't know, or maybe don't care to think about, is that many of these plantations were built on the backs of slaves.
These slaves toiled under the whip of the white plantation owners, harvesting cotton and sugar cane for days, weeks, months, and years on end. Some were literally worked to death, only to be replaced like an old shoe when the next boatload of captured slaves came into port. So while the plantations may have been wealthy palaces to some, they were places of misery and death for many others.
So it should come as no surprise that many of the plantation homes remaining in the South are rumored to be haunted. This is the story of one of those houses. Back in the 1800s, many plantations were located north of New Orleans along the banks of the Mississippi River. These plantations fueled the national economy with cotton and sugar cane, and their owners were some of the richest men in America.
Myrtle's Plantation, located a few miles outside of St. Francisville, Louisiana, was one of these homes. It was a beautiful example of Old South antebellum architecture. Upon arrival, a visitor would be greeted with the magical sight of Spanish moss swaying in the breeze, sweeping wide verandas with ornamental ironwork, and the sweet smells of pink-blossomed myrtle trees.
Inside, one would find a lavishly decorated home in the Gothic style, with ornate plasterwork, European antiques, winding staircases, and sparkling crystal chandeliers. Lurking behind all of this beauty and grandeur, though, hid a very sinister history, which many believe started with a slave girl named Chloe. At that time, Myrtle's Plantation was owned and operated by Judge Clark Woodruff and his wife, Sarah Matilda. The Woodruffs had two young daughters, with a third child on the way.
The judge was well respected in the community as a man of integrity and a staunch upholder of the law. Although he would uphold the law at any cost, his morals and values left a lot to be desired. You see, he held a dirty secret. Judge Woodruff was a compulsive womanizer. Whenever he had the opportunity, the judge would sneak around and have relations with his female slaves.
Chloe, a slave of mixed blood who served as governess to the Woodruff children, eventually became the target of his advances. Chloe was disgusted with the thought of the judge having his way with her. But she knew that if she didn't, he would probably send her back out into the fields to toil with the other slaves. You see, working in the big house was as close to freedom as a slave girl could expect at that time. So Chloe did what she had to do.
But after a while, Chloe began to suspect that the judge was getting tired of her and would soon be looking for a new lover. Terrified of being sent back to the field, Chloe began eavesdropping on the family's conversations to find out if her fears were true. But one day, the judge caught her, and he was so enraged that he sliced off one of her ears. And from that day forward, Chloe wore a green turban around her head to hide her shameful wound.
With the judge now furious at her, Chloe knew she had to do something fast to prove her worth to the family. But what? Her opportunity came one day when she was directed to help set up a birthday party for the Woodruff's eldest daughter. The judge was away, and his wife and daughters planned on celebrating the birthday by eating cake in the dining room. Chloe came up with a plan. She crept outside and picked one of the oleander plants growing beside the house.
She knew that the plant contained a small amount of poison, which she secretly added to the birthday cake. She figured if she made the family sick, she could nurse them back to health and prove herself invaluable to the family. She cared for the children and was careful only to add enough poison to make them slightly ill. As the family ate the tainted birthday cake, Chloe soon found out she had made a terrible mistake.
One by one, they dropped their utensils and began writhing and moaning in pain and agony. Chloe helped them to their beds and tried desperately to save them, but it was too late. Soon the young girls, their mother, and the unborn child were dead. As word spread throughout the plantation, the other slaves were terrified that the judge would take his anger at Chloe out on them. To save their own hides, they knew they had to do something to prove their loyalty to the master.
So one night, a lynch mob grabbed Chloe while she slept and hanged her from one of the oak trees. After she died, they cut her down, weighted her body with rocks, and tossed her into the Mississippi River. The judge promptly sealed off the dining room, and he never used it again. In later years, the plantation house was turned into a bed and breakfast, with many visitors attracted to its beauty and Old South charm.
But visitors and future owners alike would soon discover they were not in the house alone. One day, one of the new owners of Myrtle's Plantation snapped a photo in front of the house. When the picture was developed, she could see a shadowy figure standing near the veranda, her head wrapped in what appeared to be a turban. That night, some of the guests reported hearing restless footsteps wandering the halls of the house.
Others said they were jolted from their sleep by a black woman in a green turban who lifted up the mosquito netting around their beds as if looking for something. Soon, other strange incidents were reported in the house. Some guests claimed to have seen the images of small children in the hallway mirrors. Others heard their names called out from distant rooms, only to find they were in the house alone.
And others spotted two playful little girls in white dresses playing in the hallways, peeking through the windows, bouncing on the beds, and even swinging from the chandeliers. Is the mysterious woman in the green turban the ghost of Chloe, searching for the judge who caused her such grief? Are the mysterious little girls the ghosts of the Woodruff children, forever trapped in the home where they died? We'll leave that up to you to decide.
Or better yet, next time you're in Louisiana, spend a night in the Myrtle's Plantation near St. Francisville and find out for yourself. That concludes this tale from The Moonlit Road. Be sure to visit our website at themoonlitroad .com to find out more about our stories and let us know how we're doing. The Moonlit Road is produced and directed by Craig Dominey, recorded and soundscaped by Henry Howard in beautiful Stone Mountain, Georgia. Thanks for listening, and we'll see you next time.