Time hasn't been kind to these eerie estates, once the most palatial properties of their day. 

Left to wrack and ruin, Mother Nature has reclaimed their once-grand hallways and their ornate façades are crumbling away in the wind. While they may be shadows of their former selves, these forlorn homes have fascinating pasts just waiting to be uncovered.

Click or scroll to reveal a treasure trove of secrets lying in the ruins...

Nestled amongst overgrown land in Natchez, Mississippi, this grand old antebellum house, built around the early to mid-19th century, has seen better days. Gnarled vines have wrapped themselves around the grand double-height pillars and graffiti adorns the redbrick façade.

Captured by photographer Leland Kent, the derelict mansion was once a landmark Southern Belle, drawing crowds of well-heeled socialites to the grand soirées hosted in its heyday. However, this palatial property has witnessed its fair share of tragedy too.

Up close, the full extent of the damage becomes all too clear. Arlington, which was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1973, is completely open to the elements, with broken windows and an exposed loft.

While the origins of the home are somewhat unclear, it's thought that the estate may have been designed by John Hampton White for his wife, Jane Surget White, sometime between 1816 and 1821. Other sources think Jane herself or indeed her father, Pierre Surget, a French immigrant, could be behind the classic design.

However it came to be, the property served as the marital home of John and Jane, though not for long. In 1819, around the year of the estate's supposed completion, John Hampton White tragically died in a yellow fever epidemic.

Despite her heartbreak, Jane continued to live in the property, decking it out with opulent furnishings.

It's hard to imagine the grandeur that would've greeted visitors in the entrance hall, though the exquisite arched window above the doorway gives something of a hint as to its former glory.

Jane died in 1825, and the property passed through numerous hands before being snapped up by Annie and Hubert Barnum in the early 1900s. An affluent matriarch who moved within the upper echelons of society, the house was a lavish country estate under Annie Barnham, a far cry from its derelict condition today.

Tragedy descended on Arlington once more when Mrs Barnham's one-year-old grandchild, Gwin, died in a tragic accident on the property. The grand property eventually passed to Annie's daughter, Anne, before being handed down to her son, Thomas Vaughan, in the 1990s.

In September 2002, disaster was to strike the house once more, when a devastating blaze destroyed much of the property's roof and second floor. Without insurance, the once-grand home was left to languish and decay.

Currently, the City of Natchez has begun legal proceedings to take control of the estate, while a Florida couple started a fundraiser in 2021 to restore it to its former glory, as reported by local newspaper The Natchez Democrat. So there could be a happy ending to this tragic tale yet...

Around ten miles from the capital, Kabul, sits Afghanistan's grandest abandoned building, a sprawling palace built in the 1920s for King Amanullah Khan as part of a project to modernise the country.

King Amanullah had an ambitious vision to create a new capital city centred around the neo-classical palace and planned to construct a narrow-gauge railway to connect the building with the old capital.

Designed by French and German architects, the palace has around 150 rooms and was once earmarked to be Afghanistan's future parliament building.

But it wasn't meant to be. In 1929, religious conservatives forced King Amanullah Khan into exile, and the monarch's modernisation project was abandoned, much like the palace itself.

At first, the palace had its uses. During the early and mid-20th century, the building housed the Kabul University School of Medicine and served as offices for various Afghan ministries. Due to its large size, it was even used as a warehouse at one point.

In 1969, disaster struck, and a fire destroyed much of the building. However, the gutted palace was promptly restored and served as the headquarters for Afghanistan's Ministry of Defence in the 1970s.

But during the Communist Coup of 1978, Darul Aman Palace was damaged by fire once again and became riddled with graffiti and bullet holes from the conflict that surrounded it.

Yet another restoration followed, but the palace received its final blow during the early 1990s when the Mujahideen (an Arabic term that broadly refers to people who engage in jihad) shelled it into oblivion. By the mid-1990s, the ruined palace was a shadow of its former self. 

Since the mid-1990s, the palace has been used as a refugee camp and a base for the Afghan army. Battered and bruised, the building was also attacked by the Taliban in 2012. Fortunately, a new beginning was on the horizon for the besieged palace. A costly restoration project saw the majority of the derelict structure restored to its former glory in 2019, with a new, dazzling white façade.

Brought back from the brink, the building was earmarked to house a museum containing artefacts from the archive of the Presidential Palace and currently runs exhibitions to support the sale of domestic products, according to TOLOnews, Afghanistan's first 24-hour news and television network.

Like something out of a fairytale, the heart-stoppingly romantic Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers in the Vienne region of France dates to the 13th century when it was the seat of the aristocratic Bauçay family. However, the fairytale comparisons certainly can't be applied to the château's troubled past. 

The moated castle was captured twice by English forces during the medieval period, who used the building as a grand banqueting venue. Although the château reverted to French ownership during the Renaissance period, it was devastated following the French Revolution of 1789.

Severely damaged, the once dreamy château was acquired by affluent merchant François Hennecart in 1809, who attempted an extensive renovation project to restore the stunning building and preserve it for posterity, adding a vineyard to the property.

Then, in 1857, the château was sold to Baron Joseph Lejeune. The landed aristocrat reconstructed the building in 1870, adding several neo-Gothic features that nod to the iconic châteaux of the Loire Valley.

The château was the home of the Lejeune family until one fateful day in 1932 when Baron Edgar Lejeune attempted to install a central heating system. A severe fire broke out, destroying many of the interiors. Only the chapel, the outbuildings and the dovecote escaped the flames.

The damage was devastating, with French newspaper Le Figaro reporting at the time that an entire library of rare books, Gobelins (a specific type of tapestry), antique furniture and valuable paintings had all been lost. No longer fit for human habitation, the castle descended into wrack and ruin.

The ownership of the castle then passed to a French bank, which sold it to a teacher living in the area called Marc Demeyer in 1981. In 2013, he told a local newspaper that he spent two years “killing himself” to save the chateau with planned preservation work, only for his efforts to be “torpedoed by some people”.

Mr Demeyer has never specified how exactly or why his efforts were being sabotaged but, in any case, his efforts to restore the château failed and the building deteriorated further.

But this fairytale château got a happy ending after all. A group called the Friends of the Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers began raising funds to restore the castle and it is now finally open to the public to be explored.

Since 2018, the Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers has welcomed tens of thousands of visitors from all over the world for unique experiences including tours, parties and even a Halloween event.

Considered the Caribbean Palace of Versailles, the Sans-Souci Palace (meaning 'without worry') in Haiti was once the most ostentatious building in the West Indies. It was completed in 1813 for the autocratic King Henri I of Haiti, a former slave. 

Sadly, many workers are known to have perished during the palace's construction. A showcase for Haiti, the palace was built to demonstrate to foreign powers, some of which were still engaged in slavery, the sophistication of the local Haitian elite, who defeated the French following a slave revolt and established the independent country in 1804.

The palace shares its name with another Haitian revolutionary leader, Jean-Baptiste Sans Souci, an African slave who led troops in guerrilla fighting against the French in 1791. He viewed Henri Christophe as a traitor after his defeat of the French.

About ten years before construction, the future Haitian king tricked Sans Souci into believing he wished to reconcile, asking him to meet at the main Grand Pré plantation, next to the Milot plantation, where he would later build the palace. When Sans Souci arrived, Christophe's guards killed him and his guards.

Henri used the palace as a home for himself and his family, Queen Marie-Louise and their children, as well as their royal staff of advisors. During his reign, the palace hosted glittering banquets and balls that attracted the great and the good from far and wide.

The palace's gardens were particularly renowned and boasted elaborate water features. Determined to display his prowess during his reign, King Henri I also built a mountaintop fortress, the Citadelle Laferrière, nearby to repel a feared French invasion that never occurred.

Later in life, however, tragedy struck. Disabled by a stroke on 15 August 1820, Henri finally shot himself on the grounds of the palace on October 8 1820, some say with a silver bullet. 

As if that were not dramatic enough, ten days later, his son and heir, Jacques-Victor Henry, the Prince Royal of Haiti, was murdered at the palace by revolutionaries.

The palace was abandoned following the murder and left to the mercy of the elements. In 1842, a major earthquake destroyed much of what remained of Sans-Souci, and today only the ruins of the palace survive.

Sans-Souci was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1982, and since then efforts have been made to preserve what is left of the crumbling ruins. Such efforts enabled the structure to withstand the earthquake of 2010.

Today, Visit Haiti suggests visitors spend an hour or two exploring the palace and grounds before heading onward to the Citadelle. The ruins are a source of much pride for Haitians but remain largely unknown to people overseas.

Years of political instability have put foreigners off visiting the palace, and tourists are still few and far between at the site.

Pictured here in a postcard from 1907, the imposing neo-Gothic Château Miranda in Celles, Belgium, was built in 1866 by English architect Edward Milner for the aristocratic Liedekerke-Beaufort family.

They lost their original seat, the Château de Vêves, during the French Revolution. Luckily for them, they kept this imposing, yet beautiful, home. In fact, Château Miranda stayed in the Liedekerke-Beaufort family until the Second World War, when it was confiscated and occupied by the Nazis.

Following the war, the mansion was no longer used as an aristocratic home, as it was acquired by the National Railway Company of Belgium, renamed 'Château de Noisy', and repurposed as an orphanage and vacation camp.

It had plenty of space for the children to roam although the regime was rumoured to be strict. Despite its eerie look, Château Miranda was used as a vacation centre for children until the late 1970s when it was sold on to the National Railway Company of Belgium.

While it hosted the children, a square between the outbuildings had a small football pitch set up and the fountain in the garden was converted into a swimming pool. During the 1980s, the crumbling mansion served as a school and movie location.

But by 1991, it had been totally abandoned due to the rising costs of maintenance and refurbishment. The château remained empty from then on. Plagued by neglect and vandalism, the building was severely damaged by a fire in 1995, and in 2006, a freak storm destroyed much of what was left of the roof, exposing the rooms below to the elements.

Despite numerous offers from the municipality of Celles to purchase and restore the structure, for years the owners, descendants of the Liedekerke-Beaufort family, steadfastly refused to sell it, allowing the historic château to literally crumble away.

At long last, the owners agreed to sell the château to local developer Luc Lavroff in 2016, who had ambitious plans to dismantle the structure and rebuild it in Marbella, Spain. Workers began disassembling the building. 

By October 2017, the château had been almost completely dismantled. The last part to be removed was the central tower.

Tragically, the realtor was diagnosed with terminal cancer and subsequently pulled out of the purchase. Demolition firm Castignetti put out an appeal for donations to save the half-dismantled building, but was not able to generate the necessary funds. In 2017, the château was completely demolished.

Witley Court in Worcestershire, in the UK, was built in the 17th century for the Foley family, whose fortunes were at first based on the iron industry. Later, they became landed aristocrats and politicians. The home was reconstructed in 1805 by John Nash, the architect behind Buckingham Palace and Brighton's Royal Pavilion.

Unable to maintain their fortune, drowning in debt, the Foleys sold Witley Court in 1837 to William Ward, 11th Baron Ward, of the wealthiest men in England at the time, with an income from more than 200 Black Country coal mines.

In the 1850s, Ward commissioned the architect Samuel Daukes to remodel the home, including recasting the austere exterior in Bathstone. The transformation was largely complete by 1860.

The property remained in the Ward family until 1920, when it was acquired by carpetmaker Sir Herbert Smith. Then, in 1937, tragedy struck when a major fire broke out in the basement, destroying part of the house. The fire, which began in the southeast corner of the great house, caused major damage.

However, Smith's insurers refused to cough up the cash for a rebuild of Witley Court. Unable to afford the restoration bill, the carpet manufacturer sold off the estate in lots.

Scrap dealers moved in and stripped Witley Court of everything of value, and the building was left a sorry shell. Luckily, English Heritage came to the rescue in 1972 and bought the house and gardens, preventing further decay.

The conservation charity has shored up the building's foundations and stabilised the structure, and the ruin is now open to the public. While English Heritage is keen to preserve Witley Court as a spectacular ruin rather than restore the house in its entirety, the south and east parterres of the gardens have been recreated and explode with colour every spring and summer.

The impressive gardens at Witley Court were designed in the 1850s by William Andrews Nesfield, the leading garden designer of his day, who described the project as his ‘monster work’.

Today, restoration of the gardens continues in earnest at Witley Court, and English Heritage completed a revamp of Nesfield's stunning Perseus and Andromeda fountain, which adorns the scenic south parterre.

Valuation-wise, it's almost impossible to put a price on Witley Court, but if the property were to be completely rebuilt and sympathetically restored, it would likely be worth in the hundreds of millions of pounds.

Regarded as one of the most amazing abandoned palaces in Europe, Pidhirtsi Castle in Ukraine was built between 1635 and 1640 for Grand Crown Hetman Stanisław Koniecpolski of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth

The Dracula-worthy castle stayed in the Koniecpolski family until 1682 when it passed to aristocrat Jakub Ludwik Sobieski. In 1725, the grand country pile was acquired by Great Crown Hetman Stanislaw Rzewuski and remained in his family until the late 19th century.

The Rzewuski family sold the property to Polish nobleman Wladyslaw Sanguszko in 1869, and the castle was inhabited until the First World War when Pidhirtsi was captured by Russian troops.

Most of its valuables were pillaged. Priceless antique furnishings, paintings and fixtures and fittings, including many of the castle's exquisite marble fireplaces, were looted and the interiors ransacked.

This painting by Aleksander Gryglewski depicts the castle's Crimson Room in 1871.

Pidhirtsi was ransacked again during the Polish-Soviet War of 1919-1921. In a very poor state of disrepair by this point, the castle was owned by Prince Roman Sanguszko of Poland during the interwar years.

At the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, Prince Sanguszko fled to Brazil, taking most of the castle's remaining valuables with him. The Soviet authorities confiscated the property not long after and it was used as a tuberculosis sanatorium after the war.

In 1956, a catastrophic fire devastated the castle and the property was abandoned. After lying empty for decades, it was bought in 1997 by the Lviv Gallery of Arts and converted into a museum.

The World Monuments Fund has included Pidhirtsi Castle in the list of 100 objects of world-historical and architectural heritage that are at risk of being lost to humanity. 

In May 2024, Ukraine’s official fundraising platform United24 partnered with LEGO creators to produce five unique building sets that recreate iconic Ukrainian landmarks, and Pidhirtsi was included. 

While the castle is still in pretty bad shape, it is hoped that a renovation can be undertaken one day. Since the start of the Ukraine-Russia war in 2022, any work to preserve the building has likely been impossible.

Originally built in the 17th century for use as a hunting lodge, Sammezzano Castle was later purchased by Marqui Ferdinando Ximenes D'Aragona, who spent 40 years designing the castle's current interiors. 

A kaleidoscope of vivid colour, Sammezzano Castle has the wow factor and then some. The palazzo boasts a total of 365 rooms, all of which feature unique décor and the most incredible carvings and tiling. This includes Latin, Italian and Spanish writing intricately woven into the walls telling stories of Ferdinando's life and his favourite mottos.

The castle was a magnet for Italy's high society and hosted none other than King Umberto I in 1878. On the main floor is a reception room, a small chapel, and the Hall of Peacocks with bright rainbows of colour used throughout. Elsewhere there are numerous rooms with interesting names including the Oath Room, Room of Love, Room of Mirrors and the Hall of Lilies.

But eventually, Sammezzano passed out of the Ximenes d'Aragona family in the mid-20th century and the property was turned into a luxury hotel, welcoming guests from around the world.

The castle was filled with hidden niches, corners, windows, columns, arches and vaults for guests to explore during their stay. However, with fewer returning each year, not long after it opened its doors, Sammezzano was abandoned around the early 90s.

It was purchased in the late 1990s by Italo-British company Sammezzano Castle Srl, which intended to reopen the castle once more as a five-star luxury hotel.

Despite several attempts to fund an extensive conservation project to restore the deteriorating castle, the company's plans fell through. Struggling to survive, the property has since remained empty and off-limits to the general public.

A conservation group called Save Sammezzano was set up in 2012 to help fund the restoration of the castle. By this time, the property was suffering from years of neglect, with many of the rooms in dire need of an overhaul.

The hope was that by raising awareness of the castles' history and incredible interior design, someone with enough funding to maintain it would come forward. After a purchase by a Dubai investor in 2017 fell through, Sammezzano Castle was back on the market again in 2018 for around $18.5 million (£15.6m).

The Save Sammezzano site is still active, so let's hope for a happy outcome. Whatever becomes of this colourful castle, we hope any restoration is carried out sympathetically and in keeping with its history.

Languishing on the Briarcliff Campus of Emory University in Georgia, this boarded-up Georgian Revival mansion was built between 1920 and 1922 for eccentric Coca-Cola heir Asa Griggs 'Buddy' Candler Jr.

Candler is said to have had all sorts of curious hobbies, from performing magic tricks to collecting exotic animals. 

Briarcliff Mansion even housed its own zoo, which included lions and a baboon that reportedly escaped in 1935, plus four elephants named Coca, Cola, Refreshing and Delicious. During the 1920s and 1930s, Briarcliff was brimming with sumptuous furnishings and pricey paintings.

The impressive main Tudor-style hall has a vaulted ceiling, panelled walls and a huge limestone fireplace. In its heyday, the mansion encompassed over 40 rooms, two pools and a ballroom.

Candler Jr and his wife, Helen, a leading socialite, hosted numerous fashionable parties in the home. Candler Jr amassed a world-class collection of magic paraphernalia (another passion) and hosted 'magic soirées' at Briarcliff. 

Famous magicians attended, and Candler was rumoured to be friends with Houdini. Candler and his family lived in the property until 1948 when it was sold to the General Services Administration due to Candler's rising debts.

By 1953, Briarcliff had been repurposed as an addiction treatment centre, and the mansion served as a psychiatric hospital from 1965 to 1997. The abandoned mansion was purchased by Emory University, Atlanta, Georgia in 1998 and though Briarcliff was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1988, the university failed to renovate the property and it was left to decay.

If the local legends are to be believed, the mansion is also a hive of paranormal activity, with a host of ghosts said to walk the corridors and haunt the many rooms of the former country house after dark. No surprise then to hear the building has featured in many spooky sci-fi films and TV shows, such as Stranger Things and Vampire Diaries.

Ghostly inhabitants aside, Briarcliff now sits forlorn and empty on the Emory campus. Plans to restore the historic home and transform it into a luxury hotel were abandoned in 2018 when it was sadly deemed too expensive to restore.

There may be hope on the horizon, however, after Emory signed a long-term ground lease with developers Galerie Living in 2022 to turn the majority of the site into a senior living community according to Emory University's website.

Considered one of the finest surviving Gilded Age mansions in all of America, Lynnewood Hall is a stately home with a sad and complex history. Once nestled on 480 acres (194 ha) in Elkins Park, Philadelphia, the estate was constructed between 1897 and 1900 and harbours plenty of secrets.

The neo-classical revival masterpiece was once one of the finest pieces of real estate in Pennsylvania. Captured here by Leland Kent of Abandoned Southeast, it was commissioned by US tycoon, art collector and Titanic investor, Peter Arrell Browne Widener.

The mogul’s wife, Hannah, died on board the family yacht in 1896. While in mourning, Widener set his sights on building a legacy for the family. Widener’s wealth was impressive and, in fact, he's now considered to be one of the richest Americans in the country's history.

His fortune and tastes are reflected in the design of his former home, which was curated by notable architect, Horace Trumbauer. The house is thought to have cost $8 million (£6.3m) and has 110 rooms. Covering 70,000 square feet (6,503sqm), Lynnewood Hall was constructed from ornate limestone and its impressive frontage rivalled the world's greatest stately homes.

The Widener family lived at Lynnewood Hall for 15 years, but after persistent ill health, Widener passed away in November 1915. His eldest son, George Dunton Widener Sr, should have inherited the property, but tragedy had struck the family three years earlier. Widener had invested in RMS Titanic, so in 1912 George, his wife Eleanor and their son Harry travelled on the ship's maiden voyage.

Sadly, both George and Harry lost their lives when the Titanic collided with an iceberg. Eleanor survived and Widener’s only surviving child, Joseph, inherited the estate, receiving an estimated fortune of $60 million (£47.3m).

Joseph passed away in 1943, but neither of his children wanted to take on responsibility for Lynnewood Hall and the property fell into disrepair. If it weren't for the Titanic, the abandoned mansion could well still belong to the Widener family, but in 1948, a developer purchased it for the astonishingly low sum of $130,000 (£102k). which is around $1.6 million (£1.3m) today.

The estate was purchased again by the Faith Theological Seminary, a branch of evangelical Christians, in 1952. The group sold off many of Lynnewood's valuable assets, including 350 acres (142 ha) of land and its rare interior fixtures.

In 2003, the estate was added to the Preservation Alliance for Greater Philadelphia, a list of endangered historic properties. And it officially became the property of the Lynnewood Hall Preservation Foundation in June 2023, who have prepped the house for a massive restoration to ensure its future. Yet there’s one final secret inside this iconic home.

Leland Kent of Abandoned Southeast stumbled upon a mysterious underground tunnel, deep in the basement. Little is known about the clandestine passageway, and it's not clear what exactly it was used for. Widener's 37 permanent staff members may have used it to navigate the house, out of sight.

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