The Phantom Manor: Ghost Gallery

[Evilgidgit]

Welcome, curious friends…

Every town has its secrets. Every street, every corner, every house. All houses experience death, but that does not mean that those who lived there ever truly leave.

The old Ravenswood Manor, in the township of Thunder Mesa, has a dark, eerie past; a tragic tale of romance, obsession, murder, and a terrible curse that cast a dark cloud over the town.

In the golden era of cowboys, frontiersman, outlaws, and the gold rush, the Ravenswood family had become well known in the west, their old home still standing on a hill overlooking the abandoned town. Our story is of a young bride, longing for her missing groom to home to wed her, and a malevolent phantom who robbed her of her happiness, dark and powerful in his menace.

Though the manor’s garden has overgrown, and its white walls have rotted over time, some say that the bride is still in the house, never taking off her wedding dress, or discarding her bouquet, in the hope that her groom comes for her.

Once thing is certain – beauty once lived in this house, and may still…

This is the tale of Phantom Manor.

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This is a project I've been writing for longer than I can remember. Phantom Manor is very dear to my heart, its delightfully spooky story and tragic, haunting atmosphere being an integral part of Disneyland Paris. This is my own take on how the story and history of Ravenswood Manor, Melanie, The Phantom, and Thunder Mesa played out. This has been an absolute joy to create, though I made revisions to tone down more darker or grizzly parts to suit this forum's standards. Anyway, I hope you have fun reading it as much as I had writing it.

CHAPTER ONE: THE LEGEND OF THE THUNDERBIRD​

Long before Thunder Mesa was founded and gold was found beneath Big Thunder Mountain, the land was owned by the local Shoshone tribe. For generations, the tribe has lived within the vicinity of the mountain in peace.

It was said that the legendary Thunderbird lived either within, beneath, or atop Big Thunder, slumbering for the longest time, but could bring about great storms and earthquakes if enraged. Beneath the mountain was a valuable treasure, and anyone who tried to steal it, or disturbed the Thunderbird’s sleep would be cursed to suffer a terrible fate. The Shoshone people did not venture to Big Thunder, steering clear of it if out in their canoes. If an earthquake or a thunderstorm did occur, the people would simply leave the area until the danger had passed.

Years later, pilgrims found Thunder Mesa. Some travellers befriended the Shoshone, others traded with them, or would fall into conflict with them. But, none of the travellers and pilgrims settled on the land, perhaps out of respect for the locals, or out of fear for their tales of the mountain. That all changed when a young man on horseback wandered over the hill and stumbled across the mesa, finding its beautiful blue river, local geysers, and ominous mountain, finding the place mysterious, adventurous…and profitable.

Rodney Burke was a man in debt. From Boston to Philadelphia, Burke had taken his gambling addiction with him. He didn’t just gamble at card games, but just about everything else. Jobs, women, businesses, horses, chickens, shady deals, you name it, Burke had likely done it. His hands were in many pockets, and though he had his charm, a slick tongue, and could likely talk his way out of a standoff, Rodney Burke was cursed with rotten luck. Everything he did seemed to backfire or come back to haunt him, and he lost money quicker than a cut can bleed.

His habit of betting and gambling on bad decisions or dodgy deals cost Burke a lot. And before anyone could find any hide or hair of him, Rodney Burke would be out of town and hitting the road. But, he couldn’t run forever. Sooner or later, some man with a warrant or a price would find him, carrying a bullet or a hangman’s noose with his name on it. He knew he had to make up for his losses, and find something extraordinary that would grant him a new lease on life.

All that glitters is gold, and gold was a pretty good way to get rich quick. Burke had heard of great treasures and gold being found in the west. Like any good man seeking riches, Rodney Burke headed westward bound to new frontiers.

It was on a horse named Cecil, which he had stolen from a drunken vagrant, that Burke came across Big Thunder Mountain. He had rumours of a vast treasure beneath the mountain, and by befriending the Shoshone natives, he was able to enter the mountain’s vast caverns and stole a large chunk of gold, big enough to clear his debts.

Burke would successfully escape with his large golden nugget, but a holy man named Blue Hawk warned him that he had been cursed by the Thunderbird. His destiny and that of his stolen nugget were intertwined with Big Thunder, and both, together or alone, would find their way back to the river. He was warned that the thunderous stampede of a thousand bulls would signal his death. Burke ignored these warnings, fleeing the land to what he presumed would be a wealthy life.

Burke used the nugget to clear his debts and make himself a little rich. He toured the States, developing a successful business as a stagecoach salesman. He would spend several years in Louisiana, but would misplace the last remaining chunk of his golden nugget. It would go from person to person, and wind up in the hands of a young showgirl and would make its return to the valley of Big Thunder years later, just as fate foretold.

And, so would Burke…

Many people asked him where he found the nugget, but Burke claimed he found in all sorts of places: On a riverbank somewhere in Mississippi, or found by chance after escaping a hungry bear, or even was given to him by some natives out of friendship. Of course, Burke’s slick tongue didn’t always work. Once when drunk, he informed a group of prospectors the truth about where he found his nugget, right down to its location. Needless to say, Burke’s hangover was one full of dread.

After many days and nights of travel, and just as many trying to avoid the destination, Rodney Burke and the pilgrims travelled up a steep hill and came across the familiar sight of Big Thunder. Almost as if sensing his return, dark, thundering clouds rolled across the sky, looming overhead. A great rumbling clap could be heard. Burke watched the sky in terror as the clouds took on the shape of a stampede of bulls racing towards him. In a flash of light, an ungodly blast of lighting pierced the clouds and struck Rodney Burke dead on his horse. Cecil survived, but took off to parts unknown.

Despite Burke’s sudden death, he was buried in what would become Boot Hill, in the first of many graves to be filled. The pilgrims were entranced by the beauty of the river and its surrounding mountainous landscape. The prospect of finding gold drew the men and women to set up camp in the area. This camp eventually grew into a small town, drawing others seeking fresh starts, new lives, and gold. The Shoshone natives once again warned them not to disturb Big Thunder itself or awaken the Thunderbird. At first, people agreed, but the lure of riches soon drove away their promises.

Thus, the town of Thunder Mesa was founded on April 12th, 1823. At first, it was just a small outpost, living in relative peace with the Shoshone tribe. But greed would soon consume the minds of the people, who would battle and chase the natives away to plunder their sacred mountain. And whilst Thunder Mesa would prosper through the success of its gold rush in the years to come, death lingered over the frontier town, said to be the curse of the Thunderbird.

Thunder Mesa was small at first, made up of the original settlers, but more travellers and frontiersman came over time. It would truly flourish when the Ravenswood family arrived, bringing with them good fortune, and eventual tragedy.

​

 

[Evilgidgit]

CHAPTER TWO: GO WEST, YOUNG RAVENSWOOD​

The family of Ravenswood would become infamous with Thunder Mesa and their gold mining industry. But, long before Henry Ravenswood found his riches and built his manorhouse by the river, his family were neither rich, not did they even have their name.

Henry’s grandparents had the name of Forrester, originating from Cork, Ireland, in the 1760s. His grandfather was Corvus Forrester, who was by no means a good man. He was a sleazy, two-faced con man and thief. He would rob women of their jewellery, threaten widows with knives for their inheritance, pose as a highwayman, and swindle kindly vicars out of their poor boxes. As Corvus would say, “There are no depths I wouldn’t go to for money.”

Even the craftiest of tricksters run out of luck, and Corvus lost his when he tried robbing the carriage of a man who happened to be a policeman. Corvus was put on trial and found guilty, but rather than a hanging, he was sentenced to penal transportation for the American colonies. Rather than seeing this as a punishment, Corvus viewed it as an opportunity to start afresh, evade his servitude, and begin his career anew without being caught by the law. The New World was a big place, with bountiful opportunities to disappear. And he certainly wouldn’t be going alone.

Corvus framed his young wife, Elena Forrester, as an accomplice. Elena was pregnant at the time, but despite her pleading, this didn’t stop her from being dragged onboard a ship bound for America.

Perhaps it was by fate or divine intervention, but Elena would not have to put up with her husband’s schemes for much longer. A horrendous storm tossed the penal ship about in the sea like a toy. Lightning bolts struck the masts, setting the ship ablaze. Whilst the crew tried to evacuate the prisoners into longboats, only one boat would make it to land. Elena was one of the survivors of the wreck.

Corvus made his priorities clear when he rushed back down into the hull to retrieve a stash of money he had managed to smuggle onboard the ship, hidden within a barrel of spice. Elena leapt onboard the escaping longboat, and watched as the ship burnt and was lost to the sea, taking her greedy husband to a watery grave – the deepest depths he would ever traverse.

Upon arriving on American shores, fourteen prisoners and two crewmen had survived, all of the officers onboard drowning. With all paperwork of the prisoners lost, the survivors convinced the two crewmen to let them off, since most, if not all of them, had performed petty crimes. Elena took on a new surname of “Ravenswood”, posing as a distraught widow, whose husband perished at sea. Her pregnancy allowed her to gain favour with others quite easily. Elena moved to Philadelphia, where she gave birth to a son, Carmichael.

Carmichael was a sickly child at first, but was bright, teaching himself to read and write, and had a certain charm to him. Unfortunately, the promise of opportunities in the New World proved to be unkind to Elena. Her son’s early illness made life difficult, but she managed to find work as a seamstress, a maid, and then a governess. But, when her employer flirted with her and was rejected, Elena was discredited. She was forced to seek employment in a workhouse, the stress and misery leading to Elena to fall deathly ill. Before being taken into death’s shroud, Elena told her son to make something of himself.

On his own at the age of fourteen, Carmichael had to grow up rather quickly, working a number of jobs, including as an assistant to a shoemaker named Ivan Holmes. Though he found stable work as a clerk to a tradesman, Emmanuel King, Carmichael soon found out his employer was supporting smuggling in the Caribbean. Remembering his mother’s final words, Carmichael sold out his boss to the authorities. By chance, King’s goods at a Spanish fort in the Caribbean were destroyed in a fire. Rather than face the hangman’s noose, King fashioned his own. Carmichael returned to the employment of Ivan Holmes, whose small shoe business had become a larger shipping company. Carmichael became Mr. Holmes’ clerk, thanks to his prior experience.

By the time Ivan grew old and died, he had left his business to Carmichael, along with a pair of snake boots. During the American Revolutionary War, Carmichael reluctantly sold shoes and goods to both sides, but fully supported the Revolutionists, providing many shoes for them during snowy battles. His contribution was minor, but it allowed Carmichael’s business to survive and flourish in a new nation. Carmichael married Ivan’s niece Ursula, a socialite who had a long-winded history of rejecting suitors. Luckily for her, she found Carmichael’s charm and honest tongue to be a good match for her wit.

Together, they had two children, Henry Ravenswood in 1795, and Arthur Ravenswood in 1798. Arthur, the younger brother, had inherited his father’s childhood illness, and developed a dreadful cough that would haunt him all his life. Nevertheless, he was a sweet-natured, gentle, and very kind man, but by know means was he a weak man. He preferred negotiation and bargaining to be brash and dominating, reason and respect were his bread-and-butter. He married Gabrielle Chagney, a kind, soft-spoken woman, full of life though a little sensitive. They discovered that they would never be able to have children, but were happily married.

Henry, on the other hand, was a very different man. Although Henry was close to his brother and tried to toughen him up, he secretly envied the attention his parents shared with him, even if it was mostly to care for him. Henry did not have a particularly caring heart. He was arrogant, confident, capricious, controlling, and had a need to get what he wanted. Never one to take no for an answer, Henry could be very forward, aggressive, and demanding in what he wanted. He would reward those who pleased him, and was merciless towards those who crossed him. Henry did have charisma, capable of using words to weave either trust or discord amongst others. And if he couldn’t have his way, he would through more unscrupulous methods.

Henry did not have the best relationships with his parents, but did take his father’s words to heart. Just as his mother had told him, Carmichael told Henry to make something of himself and carry on the family name. Whilst Carmichael had led a life of hard work and principles, Henry only wanted power in all forms. Power in money, power in reputation, power over others. Everything he did would be based around a need to assert his control and authority. Even his marriage was not out of love, but one based on business opportunities.

Martha Worlaum enjoyed the finer things in life like tea parties, pleasant music, and crocheting. Her father was a rising industrialist, interested in developing business ventures out west. Martha was content with her cushy life in Philadelphia. Her marriage to Henry was not really a loving one, but despite much quarrelling, they did remain wed for many years. It took three times before Martha would accept Henry’s engagement proposal, since his often blunt and forward methods did not work. Instead, Henry would have to win Martha over before she agreed to wed him. But, it would be some time before they had a child, not that they struggled, but decided to wait.

Carmichael would pass away aged sixty-one during a harsh winter, leaving his business and fortune to his sons. But, Henry surprised everyone by passing responsibilities over to Arthur. Impatient and impractical, Henry knew if he took control of the family trade business, he’d find himself being talked down to by older, richer men who would spend their remaining years telling him what to do, and trying to control Henry from behind the scenes. Henry would not have it. No one would control him or tell him what to do. His father was dead, and his sharp-tongued mother would follow soon enough. Henry Ravenswood would pursue his own path in the world.

As chance would have it, Henry heard of the rising prospects and successes of gold rushes in the far west. He decided that it was on the other side of America where he would find his own little empire of gold. Leaving Arthur to care for the family business and their mother, Henry packed up Martha and headed out west for new horizons.

 

[Evilgidgit]

CHAPTER THREE: THE GOLDEN AGE

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In the years following its foundation in 1823, Thunder Mesa was small and wasn’t even on the map. The tales of gold being discovered in the river and around Big Thunder drew miners and prospectors, cowboys and bandits, fortune hunters and just ordinary folk looking to make a new start.

Amongst these was Henry Ravenswood, arriving in 1832. Though having little experience in mining or exploring rugged terrain, Henry led an expedition to find the legendary treasure trove beneath Big Thunder, ignoring the warnings of the Shoshone. With some effort, Henry and his expedition of miners located gold beneath the mountain and began their mining work.

Soon, golden nuggets were coming out by the cart load, and Thunder Mesa began to flourish with its newfound riches. Henry Ravenswood founded the Thunder Mesa Mining Company, partially financed by Barnabas T. Bullion, who would later help install a mining train within the mountain. Bullion would help other frontier towns like Rainbow Ridge and Grizzly Gulch prosper with their own mines. Henry would later be assisted by Beauregard B. Arnold, who Henry regarded as a weedy simpleton who happened to be good with money. But, Henry did have a habit of underestimating people, as Beauregard was a lot more smarter and devious than he realised.

Thanks to the boom of the gold rush, Thunder Mesa grew and expanded along the riverside and across the valley. The Shoshone tribe were able to cling to a small patch of land east to the town, close to their sacred mountain, and continued their traditions from afar. The riverboats brought new traders, prospectors, adventurers, and families.
Many new businesses and restaurants opened in town. There was a funeral director’s, run by J. Nutterville, who would have quite the fortuitous business in town, and the blacksmith Jedediah Rose, who taught the tricks of the trade to his gorgeous daughter Lavinia. Fort Comstock, a US Ranger-run fort, would be built in the 1860s, and the popular and profitable Cottonwood Creek Ranch would provide a lot of agriculture and prime ribs for the town’s dining establishments.

The Silver Spur Stakehouse was the go-to place for the richer residents of town, and where Henry would often dine with influential people in Thunder Mesa. The Last Chance Café was a little more low class, and was known to attract a lot of unwanted customers on the run from the law. Shady deals would go down here, bounty hunters and smugglers could acquire information here, and the occasional high stakes poker match would draw a crowd. The most popular joint in town was the Lucky Nugget Saloon, opened in 1850 by Lillian “Diamond Lil” Hayworth, the lucky gal who had acquired the same nugget which Rodney Burke had stolen from Big Thunder. It is said when Lil entered town to build her saloon, the ground trembled upon on her arrival, bringing the nugget home.

Henry Ravenswood was proud and confident in his achievements. To commemorate his own success, Henry built a manorhouse on a high hill overlooking the river, the town, and Big Thunder. This beautiful, white-walled manor would become an icon in town, where Henry would spy on the residents from the high windows of the house. While Henry took care of the structure, Martha took care of the interior decorating and the gardens. If there was one thing Martha took pride in was her knack for detail and running a tight ship. Her gardens were filled with beautiful plants, trees, and flowers, and a private gazebo where she could have tea with friends.

Henry did add his own touches to the interior. Perhaps his strangest purchase was a grandfather clock, which was shaped to resemble some kind of monster or demon, with the pendulum doubling as a forked tongue. Martha hated the clock, but Henry was quite pleased by it, believing it could be used to frighten foolish guests. The salesman, Ulrich Sweitz, told Henry that the last owner had died of paranoia, convinced the clock was watching him. Henry dismissed such nonsense. But, when he noticed the clock had a thirteen on it in place of the twelve, Henry demanded a refund, only to learn that Sweitz had died in the night, found in his hotel room with a petrified expression. As J. Nutterville put it, “His ticker stopped.”

Henry and Martha were happy in their manor, attended to by their house servants: Jasper Jones, the dutiful butler, and his wife, Anna Jones, the family maid. Henry, having little love for Martha, struck up a secret romance with Anna, though it fizzled out after a few years. It was in 1840 when Martha became pregnant, and on April 12th of that year, she gave birth to her daughter, Melanie Ravenswood.

Melanie was the heart and joy of Ravenswood Manor. She was beautiful, kind, gentle, a romantic, and could make people stop what they were doing and listen when they heard her amazingly operatic singing. Several people suggested that Melanie could pursue a career in opera and theatre, but Henry shot down such ideas. He did not want to show his daughter off to the world like a peacock, sending her to the unknown corners of the earth, away from her family.

Though Henry displayed a rarely seen sense of love and affection towards Melanie, she, like everyone else, was someone he liked to control. Being his daughter, Henry was convinced this gave him even greater right to decide what life she would lead. But, controlling Melanie was like trying to contain a firecracker in a closed palm. His attempts to confine her to the manor were impossible, and each attempt just made his daughter more daring, and Henry more desperate.

Melanie, who hid a more rebellious side, would find ridiculous ways to escape her home and venture out into town and the surrounding wilderness. Melanie was a free spirit. She went horse riding, travelled down river on a steamboat, visited the Shoshone’s village, climbed trees, learned to paddle in a canoe, and even tried to use a pistol. Melanie was the life of the town, and very popular with potential suitors. Of course, no one dare hurt or mistreat Melanie, since they knew her father would come down upon them like a vulture. To complete the family, Henry adopted a young Doberman, who he named Goliath, to guard the manor’s grounds. Goliath turned out to be a bit of a dunderhead, easily swayed by food or Melanie’s affections, distracted by every squirrel and butterfly in sight.

In 1842, ten years after moving to Thunder Mesa, Henry received an unexpected letter from his brother Arthur. Due to a number of mishaps, fraud, and economic turmoil, the Ravenswood business had collapsed, and Henry and Arthur’s mother had passed away. Feeling unexpected sympathy for his brother, Henry welcomed Arthur and Gabrielle to live in the manor, Melanie becoming very fond of her uncle and aunt. Arthur would come to aid his brother in running the mining industry. Together, the Ravenswoods lived in relative peace during the golden age of Thunder Mesa.

Yet, even as Thunder Mesa grew and flourished in prosperity, the legend of the Thunderbird’s wrath lingered in the shadows and discussed in hushed whispers. For over the next few years, a series of freak accidents, strange deaths, and unexplained terrors would begin to spoil the reputation of the town, culminating in a disaster like no other that rocked the town to its core.