Haunted Mansion Stories- The Pirate Ship

This is another tale coming from the the Changing Gallery at Gracey Manor.  

“The Pirate Ship"

Name: Ambrose Gracey

Born: 1761

Died: Fall 1810

Ambrose Gracey was the first of his line to settle in New Orleans. His father, Teufel, was a slave trader who operated out of Barbados. His mother was never spoken of in polite society.

Through fortunate happenstance Ambrose came into a substantial amount of money rather quickly. At this same time he also acquired the deed to a fine old mansion on the river north of town. With his newfound position he was able to marry well and later established a lucrative shipping business.

Captain Gracey had friends in all walks of life. Doctors and politicians eagerly invested in his ventures while those who wish to gain influence cultivated his favor. Two of Graceys lesser known partners were the pirate Jean Laffite and Mr. Francois D’Thave. They found access to the rich and powerful through him, could use his estate as a safe haven in any storm (natural or legal) and borrowed of his respectability. Ambrose in turn received even greater wealth and all that goes with it.

The details of the first Master Graceys death are simple, well-known and completely wrong. Yes, it was due to a carriage accident but the truth of the tale is more dark and terrible.

It all started a month after his sudden rise to prominence. There was some disagreement between Gracey and Mr. D’Thave over a most unusual and valuable object. Ambrose refused to part with it while the shopkeeper claimed ownership. What is known is that a deal was made allowing the Captain to retain the thing while Mr. D’Thave’s niece was given a position in the Gracey household.

This niece, later discovered to be Madam Leota’s grandmother, was a most capable housekeeper for the bachelor Gracey. While he was away at sea she would oversee the renovations to the house and its provisioning. With his return she would spend days there cooking, cleaning and performing any other such duties as he required.

For two years this arrangement continued to the great satisfaction of all. Ambrose had a domestic and more importantly the uncle introduced him to many profitable people. Marie had a benefactor and secret hopes of a future home. As for Mr. D’Thave, he could occasionally ask a favor of Ambrose which was rarely questioned and never refused.

Things changed in June of 1806 when Captain Gracey made a social marriage to Juliet Desmoulins Cavanaugh. It would cement his position within New Orleans society, but there was a price to pay. Marie had had designs on Ambrose and was furious when he returned from Europe with the unexpected wife.

Young Miss D’Thave stopped working at the mansion and convinced her uncle to halt all of his efforts in favor of Ambrose. Although he had become fabulously wealthy, over the next four years Gracey was unsuccessful in every business deal. Storms, blights and fires seemed to attend his every move and by the fall of 1810 Ambrose was concerned enough about his future to go see his old friend D’Thave.

A small bell clanged with an ominous tone as Gracey entered Le Bat en Rouge.

“Ahh, my dear Monsieur Gracey, it has been far too long since we embraced in friendship. Are you come to be my brother once again? I must admit, I expected you sooner and longed for this day.”

“Monsieur D’Thave. It has been too long. May we talk about old times…and future ones?”

“Certainly, my friend. Come into my office.”

Ambrose followed the small man into a back room and was surprised to find three persons already there. One he recognized as his own former maid, Francois’s niece Marie. Next to her was an older woman whose face was completely hidden under a cloak and shawl. The third was a young girl, shyly peeking from behind Marie’s chair.

“How delightful!” cried D’Thave with a clap of his hands, “A day for reunions. Marie, if you would do the honors.”

The younger woman raised her face to look at Ambrose. Her eyes were a mixture of hate and triumph. He had seen that look many times on the faces of desperate men who perceived an advantage. His name, fortune and very life were in danger here.

“Victoria, come here darling. Stand-up straight and say hello to your father.”

“So this is their game.” thought Gracey, “Well, they won’t gain my estate that way.”

The little angel stepped forward, curtsied and then met his gaze. A belaying pin could not have struck him harder. This was undoubtedly his child. Her eyes, nose and curve of her cheek all mirrored his own. What would Juliet say? How could he escape this?

“D’Thave, what do you plan to do?”

“I? I plan to do nothing. But you my dear Ambrose have choices to make. Marry my daughter…oh, oui, she is my daughter, not my niece. It was easier for all if I made that small deception. Pardon moi. So, you take Marie as your wife. Give Victoria her rightful name and all will be forgiven.”

“And if I refuse?” Gracey asked to buy some time.

“Your fortune has suffered enough no? Do what is right Ambrose.” he said with a slight grin, “All will be well.”

“It is impossible. I…”

“Juliet? No. She will go quietly…and the boy. There is little problem there. This is your family Ambrose. Embrace them.”

As D’Thave spoke those last words, the old woman lowered her shawl to reveal a strangely familiar face. 39 years before, Teufel Gracey had brought his ailing wife to New Orleans and sought-out a local witch for help. It was there a 10 year-old Ambrose had learned of his true heritage. This woman was his mother. Yet she was also Marie’s. The ungodly nature of D’Thave’s trap crushed down upon him. To marry his sister and raise such an abomination of a family was unthinkable. To refuse would mean exposure, to lose everything and be tried for depravity. As Ambrose hesitated, the other three adults began to laugh, exulting in the horror they had brought upon this greedy fool. Graceys eyes darted from one face to another like a trapped animal, seeking any chance of freedom. When he lit on Victoria, he could see her visage ablaze with full understanding. A monster! Bred by monsters! Truly she was their victory. He was almost resigned to his fate when the willful sea-captain of his youth awoke. He drew his ruby-hilted saber from its scabbard and crying to God for forgiveness, drove it down upon D’Thave’s head, cleaving the smaller man almost in two. He quickly spun back, the blade making a wide arc which ended just after passing through his mother’s neck. Marie screamed-out the wail of the damned, grabbed Victoria and simply vanished.

Terror stricken and fearing the demons he had encountered, Ambrose fled the shop. He leapt to the carriage driver’s seat and urged the team of four to a wild gallop. He left town as if the devil himself were in pursuit. Approaching the last curve before home he saw a lone figure in the middle of the road. Marie was here! “Run her down”, a voice screamed in his brain. “No one would see on this dark night.” He whipped the horses to a fury and bore down on the woman. She raised one hand and the horses stopped in full career, rolling in a tumbling mass of wood and flesh. Ambrose was thrown free; his soulless body gracefully soared though the air and crashed into a tree, splintering branch and bone. Marie looked keenly at his remains, glanced at the nearby mansion and then disappeared into the wood.

A year later she cast his spirit into the painting of a ship to display her powers to a local voodoo priest. She then took the unhallowed image and kept it in anticipation of her Victory and the day she would rule Gracey Manor.

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[1] “Laffite’s Landing” by Robert Miller, “Frogmiller” on Flickr.com

[2] Sailing Ship by Jeff, “Athenamama” on Flickr.com

[3]Ghost Ship image by “ATIS547” on Flickr.com