Haunted Savannah Sites
Eight watercolor collages of Savannah’s most iconic haunted histories, created in collaboration with Sarah Mathis, host of Hostess: A Savannah Podcast.
Scroll to see the full series, accompanied by storytelling by Sarah, shop prints and originals here.
The Ghost of Wright Square: Alice Riley
In the early days of the Georgia colony, Alice Riley and her lover, Richard White, arrived in Savannah as Irish indentured servants. In 1734, Alice and Richard allegedly murdered the man to whom they were bound. Both were executed for the crime, though as a pregnant 17 year old, Alice’s execution was postponed to allow her to give birth. Today, Wright Square is said to be the most haunted patch of ground in a city of ghosts. For centuries, witnesses have reported seeing a frantic young woman in tattered clothing wandering Wright Square, frantically searching for her baby.
Read the “true” story here
The Ghost Cat of the Davenport House
Unlike the weeping mothers or tragic soldiers of Savannah lore, this haunting is smaller, swifter, and decidedly more domestic. For decades, staff and museum-goers have reported a fluffy, orange-and-white tabby cat that seems to live in a state of permanent play. The cat is most often seen darting into a room just ahead of a tour group or curling up in a sunbeam on the second floor, only to vanish into thin air when a hand reaches out to scratch its ears. The legend of the Davenport Cat is one of the city's most charming, yet persistent, hauntings. It is said that the feline was the beloved pet of the Davenport family in the early 1800s.
Read the “true” story here
Colonial Park Cemetery and the Declaration of Independence
Button Gwinnett is perhaps the most frustrated spirit in Georgia. As one of the three Georgians to sign the Declaration of Independence, his name has been forever etched on American history, yet his life ended not in a blaze of revolutionary glory, but in a dusty, bitter duel over a bruised ego in 1777. Today, Gwinnett’s spirit is most closely associated with Colonial Park Cemetery, though his haunting is as elusive as his signature. His exact gravesite is a mystery, however visitors often report a "disturbed energy" near the vaulted tombs & a monument placed in his honor.
Read the “true” story here
Anna & the 17Hundred90 Inn
Of all the spirits in this city, Anna’s story is perhaps the most romanticized—a classic "Lady in White" whose presence is so tangible that the inn has a room dedicated to her restlessness. Anna is said to have been a young woman living at the 17Hundred90 Inn during the early 19th century. As the legend goes, she fell deeply, hopelessly in love with a sailor. She watched his ship leave from the window of Room 204, and, overcome with devastation, threw herself from the third story window, landing on the road below. Today guests report seeing a woman's silhouette standing by the window, staring out toward the river, waiting for a ship that will never dock.
Read the “true” story here
The Mercer-Williams House
The Mercer-Williams House is famous for its dark history. The sight of a fatal shooting of a young man in 1981, the house was immortalized in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, both a novel and film adaptation. The shooter & home owner later died in the foyer after numerous criminal trials. While it is said these two spirits may be trapped within the house, long before 1981 an 11-year old boy fell to his death from the roof in 1969 while hunting pigeons.
Read the “true” story here
Little Gracie Watson
For generations, visitors have claimed to see a small girl skipping through Johnson Square, drifting away among the trees, leaving only the faint sound of laughter behind. This could be the spirit of Gracie Watson, a daughter of the long gone Pulaski House Hotel that once stood in Johnson Square. After succumbing to pneumonia at the age of six, the her family commissioned a grave marker in her likeness so lifelike it was said to be a child waiting to wake up.Read the “true” story here
The Poltergeist at the Olde Harbor Inn
Overlooking the Savannah River, the Olde Harbour Inn stands as a testament to the city’s industrial bones. Long before it was a boutique hotel, it was a bustling warehouse built in 1892. Within its thick masonry walls resides Savannah’s most mischievous permanent resident: a spirit known simply as Hank. Hank is apparently a blue-collar ghost, a worker from the building's rougher days who seems to have never clocked out. Guests and staff report a sudden, phantom aroma of burning cigar. A notorious prankster, Hank really likes Room 406. Guests often wake up to find their luggage moved or the TV volume inexplicably blaring at 3:00 AM.
Read the “true” story here
The Little Boy in the Pirate’s House
For decades, servers and diners at The Pirate’s House Restaurant have caught glimpses of a young boy darting between the heavy wooden pillars or peering out from behind the curtains in the building. Guests often report seeing a small figure out of the corner of their eye, thinking a child has wandered away from a nearby table, only to find the area empty. He is a mischievous presence; staff have reported finding silverware rearranged into patterns or hearing the distinct, light pitter-patter of running feet upstairs after the restaurant has been locked for the night.
Read the “true” story here