They wanted to make extra sure their vengeance on Corrie was complete. Her body was later cut down, weighted with ricks and tossed into a nearby river. From that day forward, however, many people have reported seeing the image of a young slave girl, her head adorned in a bright red turban, standing at the window of the room where the birthday celebration had been held in 1823 and looking with sadness and longing into the house. But this is just part of the story. Following the deaths of her children at the hand of Corrie, Suzanne fell into a deep and seemingly inconsolable depression. However, once she emerged from her depression, she began to find out more and more about Charles’ proclivities in St. Francisville. One story after another led her on a trail that led her back to Corrie. Eventually, she confronted her husband over what seemed to have led to the deaths of their children, but he refused to admit to any of it.
In the winter of 1830, on a dark and chilly evening, apparently Suzanne could stand no more. The oral history of the region tells of neighbors hearing screams and curses so loud they were sure there was some sort of incursion coming their way from the Daucourt Mansion. Seers and other practitioners of the dark arts told of Suzanne Wilder coming to their ancestors for a curse that would either dispatch her unfaithful husband to the depths of hell or attach his spirit following his mortal demise to the mansion, unable to move on or leave.
When authorities finally could be convinced to investigate the disturbances from the mansion, the scene was as horrifying and sickening as anyone in Bayou Sara could ever recall. The curses, as described by witnesses, left no doubt that Suzanne Wilder had indeed consulted a voodoo priestess. As to Charles Wilder? Well, what was left of him, and from all accounts, there was not much, were bits and pieces scattered in the hallway leading to the room where their daughters had been poisoned. There were artifacts and fragments of voodoo scriptures strewn about the floor and the look on the face of the Charles’ head, now well-separated from his dismembered torso, was one of sheer terror and fright. The body of Suzanne Wilder was discovered out behind the main house where she had hung herself from a rafter in the barn, her nightgown splattered and streaked with her husband’s blood and viscera.
To his day, visitors and workers at The Daucourt Mansion insist they have seen the wandering ghost of Charles Wilder in addition to the fleeting image of Corrie. The mansion, it seems has become a place of interest to the paranormal-curious over the years and the town of St. Francisville has taken it on as a revenue stream for such. Neither ghost seems to come in the presence of the other, but both are reported to be regular visitors to the mansion, both seeming to be tied to the locale…
Back to the Present
So that is what drew me to the mansion myself. As to the specific story of what has happened just recently, I thought this historical setup was needed. What has happened now, though, was enough to make me wish I had just ignored my own curiosity following a minor history class I chose at random to fulfill my undergraduate requirements. I passed along what I had read to a friend of mine, Sabrina Duncan, who at the time was developing an online ghost-hunting business. I was just trying to help her out as she was struggling in launching her business. Never in a million years did I ever want to put her or her team in harm's way. What is that phrase about good intentions and the road to hell? I will let Sabrina’s version take over from here. This is her milieu for sure, but even so, I am sure she had no idea what she was getting into when I called her about Daucourt Mansion…
Road Trip for the Team
Evansville, Indiana
December 4, 2015
When we last left off, I had just introduced you to my friend, Sabrina Duncan. There was a time when I thought Sabrina and I would last forever. But I guess this is a common enough thing in the early stages of any relationship. It was certainly like that for me when I first met Sabrina. I have no idea if it was like that for her, but in the beginning anyway, that was the vibe I was getting back from her. Guess that was moving off topic, huh? Well…sorry…I tend to do that from time to time, especially when I think back to her. Again, please bear with me…this all has a point.
Sabrina and I met at this mixer they had for arriving freshman at school. She was a local girl. Born and raised just twenty miles down the road from campus, while I found myself having arrived from clear across the country. She loved it there from years of familiarity while I loved it there as it was about as far away from the dysfunction of my family as I could get without leaving the country. Regardless, we came together, and as the poets say, the sparks flew, and the flame ignited. Despite the hackneyed setup, it was like lightning struck and both of us were in its path.
Until the summer between our sophomore and junior years, other than my academics, all that was in my field of view was Sabrina. But in that summer, all that changed. Sabrina had come to the university at loose ends. As we talked, it became apparent that a four-year program was most likely not in her long-range plans, but I was so enamored with her. I just was not paying attention, I guess. Just the opposite for me. My undergraduate program, at the time, was just the beginning for me. I had big plans to follow up on my first degree. I know this very intelligent man who lectures around the world now, and one of the phrases he regularly uses to make a point is:
“Want to make God laugh? Just share your plans…”
It’s a good one and could not have been more accurate with me. That summer, between our second and third years at school, Sabrina told me she was not coming back to school. It was like my world imploded. I figured she was just taking some time off, but no…for her that was it for school. I could have dealt with that if there had not been more to it. She had been mentioning this interest in the supernatural for as long as I can remember. I never told her how I felt about that stuff at the time. It just did not seem so important. But when she told me she was dropping out to start an online ghost hunting business? I guess laughing was not my best moment.
Without going into the specifics, let’s just say it was irreconcilable differences. This had been on her radar for years, and despite trying to get me to see that, I was just deaf to it. Thinking back, I have no idea how I could not have seen this as a very serious endeavor for her. At the time, paranormal issues were a joke for me. How could anyone with even a modicum of intelligence and education take any of that seriously? I think I actually said that to her in my shock at her decision. I guess you don’t need to know how things went after that…
Sabrina got dressed, stomped out of the room, and for a long time, we did not speak again. I knew I had messed up big time, but sometimes you cross a line, and that is the end of everything. That is how it was with us for almost a year. I’m not blaming her. This one was on me. No excuses. Just very insensitive on my part and I got exactly what I deserved. At the end of the summer, I went back to school, and Sabrina went into business for herself. I tried several times to get in touch with her, but was not really surprised to not hear back. I just gave you the very abbreviated version of what I said to her. It was much more elaborate and detailed at the time, so no big shock that she was done with the guy sharing her bed that had just told her that her dreams and aspirations were a joke.
However, as time went by, what I thought was a joke to me, ended up with me being the joke. Perhaps you have heard of Sabrina and her company? The Elkton Ghost Hunters? No? Well, unless you were really looking for it, I am not surprised. There are a million of these outfits now, and Sabrina and her team have stayed pretty local in Indiana. It’s not New England or New Orleans or other really hot spots for these types of shows, but you’d be surprised at how much is going on in the Midwest. Lots of farms and old houses left over from the depression and the migration from the dust bowl disaster which seem to be homes to old spirits and other entities. It is very hard to believe I am actually talking about this stuff in this manner now.
Anyway, Sabrina got a small team of like-minded people to work with her after we split up. I have to hand it to her though. She knew what she wanted and
went after it with total focus and determination. She never had any doubts. Until just recently, they had stayed very local, and at least across the heartland they are well-known and have the financial statements to back it up. Sabrina is the leader and on-air personality with her cohost, Josh Holmes. Josh also happens to be the new love interest in her life as well. I guess I was a bit jealous at first when I heard, but from all reports they are happy, and that is enough for me. In addition to Josh, Wendy Newton, an old friend of Sabrina’s from childhood works the camera and takes care of the other technical details of the operation, letting the on-camera responsibilities go to Sabrina and Josh.
Wendy also fields the leads they get from their followers and elsewhere and weeds through the chaff to help Sabrina decide which ones they should pursue and which ones are just garbage. Sabrina was hoping to land a television gig for them to give them more exposure and in the end a bigger payday, but it just never happened. Since we are talking again now, she tells me it was the local-focused aspect of the webcast that was making cable television producers and show creators gun shy with them. So, when I passed along the story of the old Daucourt Mansion to her, I could almost see her eyebrows go up in interest over the phone.
Knowing where the mansion was located and how close it was to such a hotbed of activity as New Orleans, I could sense that this was just what Sabrina had been looking for to take the organization to the next level. I roughed out the background for her and e-mailed her some references that would give her all the details.
“Just thought of you when I came across this place, Sabrina.”
“So you’re a convert now, Allen?”
“Um…let’s just say it has opened my mind more to the idea,” I said as I chuckled lightly.
“I see. I guess enough to go looking, huh?”
“Just look over the material, Sabrina. It’s a great story. Maybe you can find out more than is just on the surface if you decide to air it.”
“Fair enough, Allen. I will have Wendy pour through it all and will let you know what we decide. You still in Indiana?”
“Actually, I am back out in Maryland for now.”
“You heading to grad school like you always talked about?”
“Not sure. My plans kind of got a curveball thrown at them.”
“This story?
“Actually…yeah. From what I have read and heard down there, it really disrupted my belief system.”
“Wow…I never thought I would hear that coming from Allen Duggins.”
“Don’t rub it in…and good luck.”
About two weeks later, I got this e-mail from Sabrina saying they had looked it all over and it seemed legitimate. Wendy had even had this long conversation with a modern-day psychic in Louisiana who was familiar with the mansion and the legend. Glory Trevil was her name, and she preferred to call herself a witch as opposed to a psychic.
“It catches peoples’ ear better.” Glory had told Wendy with a mysterious cackle. “Everyone in the field these days thinks they are psychics. How many actual witches have you met?”
She was surprised that it had taken anyone this long to come looking in St. Francisville. She was looking forward to their arrival in town. She was convinced the place was seriously haunted and wanted to try her hand at healing the land around the mansion. She just wanted someone with a serious background in the field with more technical expertise than herself to confirm her readings so she could select the best way to begin. Sabrina was excited and chomping at the bit to get this new opportunity moving, but it had taken some real salesmanship and convincing to get her team on board.
“So, Josh…” Sabrina began as they met one last time before moving ahead, “you looked over all the material that Wendy put together about the Daucourt Mansion down south?”
He nodded slowly but did not respond. He looked across the room at Wendy, who looked back at him with the same somber and measured expression on her face.
“And?” Sabrina prodded when he did not reply right away.
Despite her being in charge and technically making all the final decisions regarding a go/no go on projects, they had as a group made a pact long ago to get a consensus agreement before moving ahead on anything. Sabrina had discovered long ago that unless they were all in agreement—at least in 90% agreement—and all on board with any new work, that in the end, the project suffered.
Josh exhaled heavily.
“I’m not so sure about this one, Sabrina…”
“Really? How come?”
“Well for starters I guess it is the mansion itself and the backstory.”
“I’m not following you, Josh…”
“OK…what we have been doing here so far? It’s fun and creative and all that, but it’s just entertainment, you know? It’s not like we have been digging up any real ghosts.”
Sabrina waited a beat.
“And you think this is different? Is that your point?”
“Well….yeah. This place looks like the real deal to me from what I have seen and read so far. Feels way out of the realm of what we have been taking on here locally. Just a bit concerned we might be getting over our heads here.”
“How about you, Wendy? You’re the one who has been more involved in the background research as well as talking to the ‘so-called witch’…what was her name?”
“Trevil…Glory Trevil.” Wendy replied as she felt her stomach flutter with concern. “I am just the technician here, Sabrina. Whatever you and Josh decide is what I show up to film.”
“But I’d like your input, too. You feel like Josh does about this one?”
“With all due respect, Sabrina…I guess I would have to say Josh has some valid concerns.”
“Alright, I get your point. Both of you. And sure, maybe what we have going here locally is more fluff and entertainment than serious investigation, but I really want to take us to the next level with this business. Maybe get us a cable TV gig. To get there, we need to get some exposure outside of Indiana as well as taking on a story like this that is the real thing. Not just a bunch of—and please forgive me, Indiana—yahoos who see things in the shadows and hear things in their imaginations. I know we have elaborated and embellished a lot of stuff we put on the airwaves. Through Wendy’s magic and some really creative scripts from Josh and myself.”
“You have no worries otherwise, Sabrina?” Josh asked as he saw the concern manifest more deeply on Wendy’s face.
“I guess on some level, but you know me, Josh. I tend to take risks. The biggest of those was dropping out of school to launch this thing in the first place. You know the ridicule and negativity that I got inundated with when I announced my plans.”
Josh was well aware that she was talking mostly about Allen. It had cut her to the core when he had downplayed her ideas precipitating the breakup of their relationship.
“OK…” Josh finally replied. “I get it. If Wendy is onboard, then count me in, too.”
“Wendy?” Sabrina asked.
Wendy just nodded reluctantly, knowing once Sabrina got her head wrapped around an idea, it was nearly impossible to dissuade her.
“We need this job, guys. Things are fine here now. In fact, better than fine, but I am concerned that will not last forever. People out there always want more, and for us to stay relevant and successful, we need to be thinking of expanding and offering what viewers want. I am guessing neither of you would be opposed to the big payday that could accompany this, right?”
Josh and Wendy looked at each other and laughed with Sabrina.
“OK. Good. So let’s get out gear packed and get the show on the road. Next stop, St. Francisville, Louisiana…”
On the Road Again
December 6, 2015
The drive from Evansville toward Louisiana was long, but for all three of the team members, it was intriguing as none of them had ever been this far south before. It was like charting unknown waters for them seeing a part of the country they had never ventured into before. After a br
ief stop in Memphis to break up the long drive, with Sabrina at the wheel of the van they had rented to contain a lot of extra gear they figured they might need for this new enterprise, they finally branched off I-55 and onto local roads that veered west giving them their first real good look at the expansive Mississippi River down south. The local roads turned south from the western direction they had been on, and route 61 led them onward toward their destination.
About an hour or so outside St. Francisville proper, the sun dropped over the western horizon and the dark of the night set in making the setting of what they had come to investigate even eerier. And on top of that, this heavy, dense fog had settled over the road making Sabrina slow their progress as the final local roads were narrow and winding. The cool winter evening was making the thick mist condense quickly on the windshield, and Sabrina felt her hands unconsciously grip the steering wheel tightly. She had never been a big fan of winter driving back up in Indiana from snow and ice, and this fog and what it was doing to the overall visibility here reminded her of that.
To distract her concern over the weather outside, she began to throw out some random questions to her partners about their plans on how to handle the mansion project once they arrived. She had a feeling that they might be as on edge from the weather as she was, and perhaps a diversion might help. Knowing Josh was the one with the most issues on their safety, she had him run over the inventory of their gear as well as the basic itinerary of the project once they got set up and got started. Even as Josh talked, Sabrina could hear the trepidation and catch in his voice.
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