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S1 E49 Ebeneezer Lee Hatfield - Story Teller
11 Plays21 days ago
Something a little different this week, as I was asked to do a Webinar for Paranormal Phenomena Research & Investigation (PPRI), on Victorian Ghost Stories.
Please join me as we discover the history of Ghost Stories being told at Christmas in Victorian times and my first attempt at being a story teller
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Transcript
Intro
Introduction to Christmas Ghost Stories
00:00:12
Speaker
So welcome everybody to the ghost stories of Christmas past. My name is Lee or as Elliot decided to call me Ebenezer Lee.
00:00:26
Speaker
So when I see him in person, he's in big trouble.
00:00:32
Speaker
So tonight we're going to be talking about Victorian Christmas stories. Elliot thought it'd be a great idea, the fact that I could talk about them, the fact I'm from England. So I lived in England, I should know everything about Victorian Christmas stories.
Origins of Victorian Christmas Ghost Stories
00:00:51
Speaker
So one of the most famous lines of from a Christmas story, not necessarily ghost Christmas story, was, "'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
00:01:08
Speaker
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there." That was written by Clement Seymour in 1822. And it's probably one of the most famous lines that people ever had with regards to Christmas.
00:01:29
Speaker
So, as all story times begin, if you are sitting comfortably, then we'll begin. And I'm a poet, and I didn't know it.
00:01:42
Speaker
So, back in the Victorian days, it was common practice to have Victorian Christmas stories.
00:01:56
Speaker
It all began with the rise of the supernatural supernatural fiction in the 19th century Britain. And of course, back in those days, they never had TV.
00:02:10
Speaker
There was long winter nights. So that encouraged fireside and even by the Christmas tree storytelling.
00:02:23
Speaker
Obviously, the most famous ghost stories were linked to Christmas before Dickens.
00:02:34
Speaker
Can we just stop there one second?
00:02:43
Speaker
So welcome everybody to Ghost Stories of Christmas Past. My name is Ebenezer Lee. I did not pick that nickname.
00:02:55
Speaker
That was done by Elliot. I think it might have stuck because when people think I'm grumpy, but hey ho. So tonight's webinar will be on Victorian Christmas stories.
00:03:10
Speaker
So because I'm from England, Elliot thought it'd be a great idea to ask me to talk about Victorian times. I don't know if he thinks I was alive then.
00:03:22
Speaker
However, It's my job to talk about Victorian Christmas stories.
00:03:33
Speaker
So one of the most famous sayings that people hear through Christmas time was written by Clement C. Moore in 1822. And it goes like this. "'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring,
00:03:55
Speaker
not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there. So obviously back in the day before we had TV, before we had radio, it was extremely common to tell stories
Cultural Landscape of the Victorian Era
00:04:14
Speaker
at Christmas time.
00:04:16
Speaker
They had to entertain themselves in the evening. So they came up with Christmas stories.
00:04:25
Speaker
And as everything begins, if you're sitting comfortably, then I will begin this webinar.
00:04:42
Speaker
Back in Victorian era, but so the Victorian era was from 1837 to 1901. It was called the Victorian era because of Queen Victoria.
00:04:55
Speaker
It represented an unprecedented cultural intersection of industrial progress, religious religious questioning and revived interest in folklore.
00:05:08
Speaker
So this made it fertile ground for the ghost story as both literary entertainment two a week um more and moral reflection. Christmas already associated with midwinter traditions became a natural setting for supernatural storytelling and all these kind of spooky stories that came out at Christmas.
00:05:33
Speaker
Historical evidence shows that long before Charles Dickens,
00:05:41
Speaker
winter gatherings often included eerie tales. many of which were rooted in pre-Christian beliefs about the thinning boundary between the living and the dead.
00:05:56
Speaker
Victorian Christmas ghost stories were not anomalies, but the continuation of centuries old European midwinter storytelling practices.
00:06:08
Speaker
What changed in the 19th century was literacy, access to print culture and a social appetite for narratives that treated supernatural events as metaphors for ethical self-examination.
Pre-Dickensian Christmas Ghost Tales
00:06:24
Speaker
This made ghost stories both culturally permissible and thematically useful in a rapidly modernizing society.
00:06:41
Speaker
why ghost stories at christmas so people should know that christmas as a supernatural season predates christianity the winter solstice observed in various pagan traditions was believed to be a liminal time when spirits wondered freely the victorians inherited these beliefs sometimes unknowingly through customs, superstitions and folk tales.
00:07:15
Speaker
As Christmas became a major domestic celebration, these ancient associations merged with new Victorian values.
00:07:27
Speaker
Midwinter festivals historically served as a communal experiences where people confronted the fear of darkness, scarcity and death.
00:07:40
Speaker
Ghost stories provided a narrative structure for those unzared anxieties. By the 19th century, they also carried moral lessons suitable for a holiday increasingly defined by introspection, charity and reflection.
00:08:02
Speaker
Early pre Dickens Christmas ghost law. Before Charles Dickens revived Christmas, ghost stories were already embedded in English seasonal folklore.
00:08:13
Speaker
The medieval belief that Christmas Eve revealed the future or exposed hidden spirits lingered in rural communities. Early modern chapbooks preserved eerie tales featuring wandering spirits, ancestral ghosts, or supernatural warnings.
00:08:35
Speaker
Dickens did not invent the idea of holiday ghosts, despite what people say. He only popularized an older tradition.
Dickens' Influence on Christmas Stories
00:08:51
Speaker
So Charles Dickens and the cultural transformation. Dickens played a pivotal role in shaping the modern Christmas. So his social concerns and narrative talent, he transformed Christmas into a celebrity celebrity that can't say that I must be ah having too much wine already.
00:09:12
Speaker
Celebratory season focused on generosity, family and redemption. His use of ghosts was not purely for fright, but served as a moral and emotional catalyst.
00:09:27
Speaker
By presenting supernatural encounters as agents of personal reform, Dickens made ghost stories both entertaining and socially instructive.
00:09:44
Speaker
The Victorian fireplace setting was obviously a very popular location. It became a symbolic location for storytelling. It represented warmth and safety, creating a dramatic contrast with chilling tales of spirits and the unknown.
00:10:05
Speaker
Illustrations from the from the era frequently depict families gathered by the hearth listening to ghost stories.
00:10:15
Speaker
but will these ghost stories scare people? That's the question.
00:10:25
Speaker
So as most of us all know now, the Christmas Carol, which was written in 1843, it's
00:10:34
Speaker
it's now been pretty much mainstream. There's been so many different versions, more different books, movies,
00:10:46
Speaker
and it became the template for Victorian and later modern Christmas ghost stories. That's what everybody thinks about when they think of Christmas ghost stories. It had an enormous impact stemmed from its ability to engage readers emotionally while still addressing urgent social issues like poverty and exploitation.
00:11:08
Speaker
So we all know the story of Charles Dickens, oh sorry, correction, the Christmas Carol. We know about Scrooge. We know about his work colleague marley coming to visit him and then the three ghosts so the spirit's roles reflect victorian concerns with time memory and moral accountability the story's success sparked a publishing trend where christmas editions of magazine and books routinely included ghost tales
00:11:47
Speaker
christmas carol was not the only the story that charles dickens wrote about christmas he continued to publish supernatural christmas stories annually works like the chimes the haunted man
00:12:07
Speaker
and the collaborative christmas numbers expanded the tradition These stories often explored themes of regret, social injustice and memory through supernatural visitations.
00:12:24
Speaker
They were not merely scary, but served as vehicles for emotional and ethical reflection.
00:12:39
Speaker
Ghost story illustrations in print played an essential role in shaping readers expectations. Engravings used shadow, candlelight and expressive faces to heighten emotional tension.
00:12:59
Speaker
They help helped stabilize the visual language of ghost stories.
00:13:07
Speaker
So now let's have a listen to a few ghost stories and then you can decide for yourself.
Tales of Love and Redemption Beyond the Grave
00:13:19
Speaker
The first one is called The Candle in the Snow.
00:13:29
Speaker
On Christmas Eve of 1891, the snow fell upon Bracken Hill village with an uncommon silence, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
00:13:45
Speaker
Mrs. Eleanor Whitcomb, recently widowed and hardly past her 31st year, made her lonely way home from the churchyard, where she had left a sprig of holly on her husband's grave.
00:14:01
Speaker
The air shimmered with frost and every lamplight burnt with a faint wavering halo. as she reached the iron gate of whitcomb house she noticed something odd a single candle flickering in the window of the upstairs study she froze no one had entered that room since her husband's passing she had even locked it herself yet there it was the unmistakable glimmer of a candle
00:14:41
Speaker
summoning more resolve than fear eleanor let herself in the house welcomed her with its quiet familiar creeks but the air felt and unusually cold her breath curled into small clouds as she climbed the staircase each step groaning as though warning her back At the study door, she paused, light flickering beneath it.
00:15:17
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She opened it slowly. Inside, the candle burned on her husband's old mahogany desk, illuminating the dust, drifting through the frigid air.
00:15:33
Speaker
And then she saw him.
00:15:36
Speaker
She saw her husband, Edward. His outline shimmered like frost on glass, and yet she recognised his posture. Shoulders slightly bent as if in an apology.
00:15:54
Speaker
His face was pale, nearly transparent, but his eyes held that same gentle sadness she had known so well. Eleanor, he whispered.
00:16:08
Speaker
The sound was distant, as though rising from deep water. Her hand flew to her mouth, but she stepped towards him all the same.
00:16:22
Speaker
Edward, is it truly you? He bowed his head. Only for a moment, I was permitted to return.
00:16:34
Speaker
She felt both sorrow sorrow. and an inexplicable warmth flood her chest. Snow hissed softly against the window as the candle flame swayed.
00:16:47
Speaker
Why? she asked. He looked forward toward the desk drawer, the one she had never opened since his death. There is something i left unfinished.
00:17:03
Speaker
With trembling fingers, Eleanor pulled the drawer open and inside lay a sealed letter addressed in Edward's handwriting.
00:17:16
Speaker
To my dearest wife, her breath caught.
00:17:21
Speaker
I meant to give it to you Christmas morning, he said, but his form flickered. Time ran shorter than I knew. Eleanor pressed the letter to her heart.
00:17:34
Speaker
Oh, Edward. He smiled faintly, but the grief in it made her eyes burn. Do not shut yourself away because I am gone.
00:17:45
Speaker
Live. Laugh again. The world is still full of light. Stay, she whispered, reaching for him, her hand passing through cold nothingness.
00:18:00
Speaker
I cannot, he said, growing even dimmer. But know this, love does not end in the grave.
00:18:13
Speaker
The candles sputtered, the room seemed to shake with a sudden draught. When Eleanor blinked away her tears, Edward was gone.
00:18:26
Speaker
Only the candle remained, burning steadily now, warm and golden. On Christmas morning, Eleanor opened the letter.
00:18:38
Speaker
Its words were simple, but they mended something within her that had felt broken beyond repair.
00:18:49
Speaker
And though she would never see Edward again, every Christmas Eve thereafter, she placed a single candle in the study window.
00:19:01
Speaker
It's glow a reminder that love once kindled is never truly extinguished.
00:19:19
Speaker
The next story is called The Carolers at Briar Hollow.
00:19:30
Speaker
The winter of 1886 was the coldest in recent memory, and the village of Briar Hollow lay beneath a depth of snow that swallowed whole hedgerows and bowed the roof like old men in prayer.
00:19:50
Speaker
On Christmas Eve, Mr. Alistair Wren, solitary, proud, and disliked in the way wealthy men often are, retired to his country home with the intention of ignoring the holiday altogether.
00:20:07
Speaker
He had dismissed his servants for the night, preferring the company of his ledges to people. Sounds similar to somebody we know. It was nearly 10 o'clock when he heard it.
00:20:22
Speaker
He heard singing. Soft at first, then growing clearer. choir's voices, cold as winter air, drifting up the lane.
00:20:36
Speaker
Yet no one caroled at Briar Hollow.
00:20:41
Speaker
Not since the accident, anyway.
00:20:45
Speaker
Curiosity tugged at him. He stepped to the frosted window and peered out. A group of figures in dark, old-fashioned cloaks stood at the gate.
00:20:57
Speaker
Their heads bowed, lanterns flickering pale blue rather than gold. Snow had piled on their shoulders, yet none moved to brush it away.
00:21:11
Speaker
Their carol was one he had never heard before, a dirge really slow, mournful, and terribly precise.
00:21:23
Speaker
When the last note faded, all heads turned towards his window at once. Wren jerked back, heart hammering. Moments later, there were three knocks at the door.
00:21:43
Speaker
The first visitor. He opened it just a crack. A young woman stood on the step, her face white as bone, her cloak heavy with snow.
00:21:57
Speaker
It did not melt. And she held her out a sprig of holly. For your hearth, she whispered.
00:22:10
Speaker
Wren frowned. I want no part in your cowling. Leave my property. Her lips parted as if to smile, but the expression never reached her clouded eyes.
00:22:24
Speaker
It was your property then too, she murmured, when we came singing the same night three years ago.
00:22:34
Speaker
She then vanished, simply gone. The snow where she stood remained undisturbed.
00:22:45
Speaker
The second verse. Uneasy, Wren barred the door, but the singers returned. Closer now, as though the choir had moved inside the very walls of his house.
00:23:00
Speaker
Their voices harmonised strangely. Some sounded far away, others whispered directly at his ear.
00:23:11
Speaker
Cold the night, the master called. cold the hearts he froze with fear wren stumbled back trembling he had heard those words before on the night the children from the village had vanished three years ago exactly a night he had tried terribly hard to forget
00:23:39
Speaker
Snow had been heavy then too. They'd come singing at his door, begging to warn themselves, and he had turned them away. He had been angry.
00:23:52
Speaker
Someone had stolen tools from his barn. He blamed those children.
00:24:00
Speaker
They never made it at home. The storm swallowed the lane and search parties found nothing until the thaw.
00:24:13
Speaker
Not the bodies, not the lanterns, nothing.
00:24:23
Speaker
And Wren had told himself he bore no blame.
00:24:30
Speaker
The choir assembles. The temperature in the house plummeted.
00:24:37
Speaker
Frost wreathed the banisters. Candles gutted, their flames bending away from the dark hallway leading to the parlour. Then came the sound of small feet shuffling through snow.
00:24:54
Speaker
But this was inside the house.
00:24:59
Speaker
He followed the noise. dread coiling in his gut. The children stood in a huddled line beneath the hearth. Boys and girls, their faces pale, cheeks rhymed with frost, lanterns glowing, that same unnatural blue.
00:25:22
Speaker
Their breath did not cloud in the air.
00:25:26
Speaker
One step forward, a boy of perhaps ten, his coat torn, His fingers were black and blue.
00:25:37
Speaker
You promised you'd let us in next time, he said softly. Wren's knees buckled. hi i I didn't know. i didn't think.
00:25:50
Speaker
You didn't care, a girl whispered. And it was so cold. The choir outside began to sing again, louder now, an unholy harmony that made the windows quake.
00:26:06
Speaker
The children joined hands. Snow began falling from the ceiling, flurries of white swirling around them, heavier and heavier, until the hearth was buried.
00:26:23
Speaker
The carpet drifted over and Wren's breath came out in desperate gasps. He tried to stumble back, but the snow rose faster, swallowing his legs and came up to his chest.
00:26:41
Speaker
The last thing he saw was the boy's expressionless face as the child pressed a lantern into his hand.
00:26:51
Speaker
For your journey, he said gently. Wren screamed, but snow filled his mouth, stealing the sound.
00:27:04
Speaker
Christmas morning. When the villagers came to check on him, the house was wide open, cold as crypt. Snowdrifts lay strangely inside, piled high in the parlour, pristine and untouched.
00:27:24
Speaker
At the centre of the room, where the hearth had been, stood a new figure in a dark cloak. Lantern glowing faint blue in his hand, face hidden beneath a hood of ice-crusted fabric.
00:27:42
Speaker
He joined the choir silently. That Christmas Eve, they say one more voice began singing in Briar Hollow, a deep, mournful baritone that had never been heard before.
00:28:02
Speaker
And the carolers never missed a year again.
Ghostly Encounters and Unfinished Business
00:28:15
Speaker
The Lamplighter's Guest.
00:28:22
Speaker
On a bitter December evening in 1887, young Clara Whitcomb hurried along the fog-choked streets of Waynesford, clutching her cloak tight at her throat.
00:28:38
Speaker
Gas lamps sputtered behind her, their glow swallowed by the mist that curled like living things around her boots. Her mother had warned her not to tarry after dark, but since the lamplighter had fallen.
00:28:58
Speaker
Mr Hollis, a mild and cheerful man, had lit the town lamps for nearly 30 years before he disappeared one winter night. They found his pole lying beside the riverbank, but no footprints in the frost.
00:29:15
Speaker
Some said he'd fallen into the room water. Others whispered of darker forces that lurked when the fog rolled in thick and strange.
00:29:28
Speaker
Clara told herself she did not believe in ghosts. She was a modern girl, educated and sensible. Yet when she heard footsteps behind her, slow, dragging, unsteady, her breath caught.
00:29:48
Speaker
Who's there, she called, forth forcing her voice not to tremble. There was no answer, only the swish of something moving through the fog.
00:30:02
Speaker
She quickened her pace. A soft light gloomed ahead, a single lamp burning with a steadiness odd for such a windy night.
00:30:14
Speaker
Beneath it stood a tall figure in a long dark coat. back-toned Back turned towards her and relief washed over her. Sir, please.
00:30:27
Speaker
Could you escort me to the square? She asked. The fog is dreadful tonight.
00:30:34
Speaker
The man turned slowly. Though his features were pale and blurred by the swirling haze, Clara saw the unmistakable shape of a lamplighter's pole in his gloved hand.
00:30:50
Speaker
A faint, almost sorrowful smile lifted his lips. Of course, he said. His voice sounded distant, as though carried from a faraway room.
00:31:03
Speaker
Walk with me. The lamps should guide you home.
00:31:09
Speaker
They set off together as they passed each lamp. The flame brightened unnaturally, casting long, trembling shadows across the cobblestones.
00:31:23
Speaker
Clara tried to thank him for his kindness, but every time she glanced at him, his face seemed less solid. fading at the edges like an image in thinning smoke at least at last they reached the square the fog parted revealing the warm glow of shot windows and the distant ringing of carolers thank you clara said you've saved me the lamplighter lifted his cap politely
00:31:59
Speaker
I only wish someone had done the same for me, he murmured.
00:32:07
Speaker
Before Clara could ask what he meant, a sudden icy gust swept between them. She blinked and the man was gone.
00:32:21
Speaker
In his place stood a rusted lamplighter's pole leaning against the base of the nearest lamp.
00:32:30
Speaker
Clara fled home. She burst through the door, breathless, rambling to her mother about the stranger's help. A mother stared at her, her face drained of colour.
00:32:46
Speaker
Clara, she whispered. They found Mr Hollis's body this morning. Downstream. They say he died weeks ago.
00:32:59
Speaker
Clara turned towards the window. Outside, through the swirling fog, the lamps along the street glowed brighter than she had ever seen, each one flickering as though lit by a guiding hand, still faithfully tending to them.
00:33:20
Speaker
And from somewhere in the darkness came the faint tap, tap, tap. of a pole on the stones.
00:33:43
Speaker
The Night Visitors of Blackwood House.
00:33:49
Speaker
In the winter of 1874, when the night stretched long enough to swallow a manhole, Mr. Jonathan Harrow, recently widowed and fleeing London's whispers, took residence in Blackwood House.
00:34:08
Speaker
It stood alone on the edge of the heaths, where the wind seemed always to be remembering something dreadful.
00:34:18
Speaker
The solicitor had told him only one thing.
00:34:23
Speaker
Do not tool yourself with the West rooms
00:34:31
Speaker
Jonathan, who was numb with grief, scarcely noticed this warning. The house was cold, but manageable. The staff minimal, but polite.
00:34:45
Speaker
Only Mrs. Ashcombe, the cook, seemed persistently anxious. The wind carries voices here, sir, she said, as she served his first supper.
00:34:59
Speaker
If you hear knocking at night, best to stay where you are.
00:35:05
Speaker
He smiled weakly. Wind cannot knock. Mrs. Ashcombe. She did not return that smile.
00:35:18
Speaker
The first night. Jonathan slept poorly. Near midnight, he woke to three sharp knocks on his bedroom door. Slow, deliberate, spaced far enough apart to feel intentional.
00:35:36
Speaker
He sat up. Who's there? There was silence.
00:35:43
Speaker
He lit his candle and opened the door to an empty corridor. Though the air seemed unnaturally cold, as he stepped out, the flame guttered violently, as though someone had exhaled upon it.
00:36:01
Speaker
He retreated, locking that door.
00:36:08
Speaker
The Second Night The knocking returned, but this time it came not from the door, but inside the walls, a frantic, ragged pounding, like fists slamming from within the plaster.
00:36:26
Speaker
Jonathan pressed his ear to the wall and felt a faint vibration.
00:36:34
Speaker
And then, just barely, he heard a woman's voice.
00:36:41
Speaker
like to be He stumbled backwards in terror. The next morning, the servants refused to answer his questions, all except Mrs. Ashcombe, who whispered, hands trembling.
00:36:59
Speaker
This house was not built upon empty heaths. There was a home here before. They keep the West rooms locked because because the walls remember what happened.
00:37:16
Speaker
The third night, a storm rolled in, rattling every shutter. Jonathan, determined not to be afraid, brought a bottle of brandy to the West corridor and forced the locked door open.
00:37:34
Speaker
dust rot and something else greeted him the unmistakable smell of old decay trapped for decades a child's wooden ball lay in the hall it rolled on its own straight towards him jonathan throws a small voice whispered from the darkness
00:38:05
Speaker
play with us the shadow shifted and two male figures emerged children all the memory of children their eyes were wrong glassy and lifeless their pupils too wide devouring the candlelight behind them came a woman Her face was mutilated, as though crushed by something massive.
00:38:35
Speaker
Her mouth hung at a terrible angle. She reached towards Jonathan with fingers bent in impossible directions. Her voice scraped from a ruined throat.
00:38:52
Speaker
He buried us in the walls.
00:38:56
Speaker
Jonathan fled, but the corridor stretched impossibly long, the floor sinking like wet earth, hands cold, small and impossibly numerous grasped at his ankles.
00:39:14
Speaker
He threw himself through the doorway of his room and he slammed it shut.
00:39:22
Speaker
The final night. Jonathan awoke, not to knocking, but to breathing. Low, rasping breaths directly above him.
00:39:36
Speaker
He looked up. A face stared down from the ceiling, pressed outward from inside the plaster, its features distorted, screaming silently.
00:39:48
Speaker
More faces appeared, stretching the ceiling until cracks formed. the entire house began to groan. And then came the whisper echoing from all sides.
00:40:05
Speaker
You found us. The walls convulsed, the plaster split open, skeletal hands emerged crawling like insects.
00:40:17
Speaker
The floorboards bulged with movement from underneath.
00:40:24
Speaker
Jonathan ran barefoot and desperate. He reached the front door, but something held it closed from outside, an unseen force pushing back.
00:40:37
Speaker
He heard the children giggle behind him. The last thing anyone ever found was the splintered front door swinging open in the morning breeze.
00:40:52
Speaker
Jonathan Harrow and disappeared
00:40:57
Speaker
those who passed black woodhouse in the fog swallowed hours before dawn swore they heard the faint sound of someone one pounding from winning that within the walls begging to be let out
00:41:21
Speaker
The final story is called The Kit Bag by Algernon Blackwood.
00:41:32
Speaker
When the words not guilty sounded through the crowded courtroom that dark December afternoon, Arthur Wilbraham, the great criminal KC and leader for the triumphant defense was represented by his junior.
00:41:50
Speaker
But Johnson, his private secretary, carried the verdict across the chambers like lightning.
00:41:59
Speaker
It's what we expected, I think, said the barrister without emotion. And personally, I am glad this case is over. There was no particular sign of pleasure that his defense of John Turk, the murderer, on a plea of insanity had been successful.
00:42:20
Speaker
For no doubt he felt as everyone who had watched the case felt that no man had ever better deserve the gallows. I'm glad too, said Johnson.
00:42:33
Speaker
He had sat in the court for 10 days watching the face of the man who had carried out with callous detail one of the most brutal and cold blooded murders of recent years.
00:42:48
Speaker
The council glanced up at his secretary. They were more than employee and employed for family and other reasons. They were friends.
00:43:00
Speaker
I remember, yes, he said with a kind smile and you want to get away for Christmas. You're going to ski and skate in the Alps, aren't you? If I was your age, I would come with you.
00:43:17
Speaker
Johnson laughed shortly. He was a young man of 26 with a delicate face like a girl's. I can catch the morning boat now, he said, but that's not the reason I'm glad this trial is over.
00:43:30
Speaker
I'm glad it's over because I've seen the last of that man's dreadful face. It positively haunted haunted me. That white skin with the black hair brushed low over the forehead.
00:43:47
Speaker
"'Tis a thing I shall never forget, and the description of the way the dismembered body was crammed and packed with lime into that. "'Don't dwell on it, my dear fellow,' interrupted the other, looking at him curiously out of his keen eyes. "'Don't even think about it.
00:44:07
Speaker
Such pictures have a trick of coming back when one least expects them. He paused a moment. Now go, he added presently, and enjoy your holiday.
00:44:19
Speaker
I shall want all your energy for my parliamentary work when you get back. And don't break your neck skiing.
00:44:29
Speaker
Johnson shook hands and took his leave. At the door, he turned suddenly. I knew there was something I wanted to ask you, he said. Would you mind lending me one of your kit bags?
00:44:43
Speaker
It's too late to get one tonight and I leave in the morning before the shops are open. Of course, I'll send Henry over over with it to your rooms.
00:44:54
Speaker
You shall have habit it the moment I get home. I promise to take good care of it. Johnson, gratefully delighted to think that within 30 hours he would be nearing the brilliant sunshine of the high Alps in winter.
00:45:11
Speaker
He thought of that criminal court. It was like an evil dream in his mind. He dined at the club and went on to Bloomsbury, where he occupied the top floor in one of those old gaunt houses in which the rooms are large and lofty.
00:45:29
Speaker
The floor below his own was vacant and unfurnished, and below that were other lodgers whom he did not know. It was cheerless and he looked forward heartily to a change.
00:45:44
Speaker
The night was even more cheerless. It was miserable and few people were about. A cold sleety rain was driving down the streets before the keenest east wind he had ever felt.
00:46:00
Speaker
It howled dismally among the big gloomy houses of the great squares. And when he reached his rooms, he heard it whispering and shouting over the world of black roofs beyond his windows.
00:46:15
Speaker
In the hall, he met his landlady, shading a candle from the draughts with her thin hand. This come by a man from Mr. Wilbrim, sir.
00:46:27
Speaker
She pointed to what was evidently a kit bag and Johnson thanked her and took it upstairs with him. I shall be going abroad in the morning for 10 days, Mrs Monks. I'll leave an address for letters.
00:46:42
Speaker
And I hope you'll have a Merry Christmas, sir, she said in a rourish, wheezy voice that suggested spirits and better weather than this. I hope so too, replied the lodger, shuing shuddering a little as the wind went roaring down the street outside.
00:47:03
Speaker
When he got upstairs, he heard the sleet volleying against the window panes. He put his kettle on to make a cup of hot coffee and then set about putting a few things in order for his absence.
00:47:17
Speaker
And now I must pack such as my packing in, he laughed to himself and he set to work at once. He liked the packing for it brought the snow mountain so vividly before him and made him forget the unpleasant scenes of the past 10 days.
00:47:36
Speaker
Besides, it was not elaborate in nature. His friend had lent him the very thing, a stout canvas kit bag, sack shaped with holes around the neck for the brass bar and padlock.
00:47:51
Speaker
It was a bit shapeless, true, and not much to look at, but its capacity was unlimited and there was no need to pack carefully. He shoved in his waterproof coat, his fur cap and gloves, his skates, climbing boots, sweaters and snow boots and ear caps.
00:48:15
Speaker
And then on top of these, he piled his woolen shirts and underwear. He also included his thick socks, putters and knickerbockers.
00:48:28
Speaker
The dress suit came next in case the hotel people dressed for dinner and then thinking of the best way to pack his white shirts, he paused a moment to reflect.
00:48:42
Speaker
That's the worst of these kit bags, he mused vaguely, standing in the centre of the sitting room where he had come to fetch some string.
00:48:53
Speaker
It was after 10 o'clock, a furious gust of wind rattled the wind as though to hurry him up. And he thought with pity of the poor Londoners whose Christmas would be spent in such a climate while he was skimming over snow slopes in bright sunshine and dancing in the evening with rosy cheek girls.
00:49:14
Speaker
Ah, that reminded him. He must put in his dancing pumps and evening socks. He crossed over from his sitting room to the cupboard on the landing where he kept his linen.
00:49:29
Speaker
As he did so, he heard someone coming softly up the stairs.
00:49:36
Speaker
He stood still for a moment on the landing to listen. It was Mrs. Monk's step, he thought. She must be coming up with the last post. But then the steps ceased suddenly and he heard no more.
00:49:53
Speaker
They were at least two flights down and he came to the conclusion they were too heavy to be those of his landlady. No doubt they belonged to a late lodger who had mistaken his floor.
00:50:06
Speaker
He went into his bedroom and packed his pumps and dress shirts as best he could.
00:50:13
Speaker
Be kit bag by this time was two thirds full and stood upright on its own base like a sack of flour For the first time he noticed that it was old and dirty.
00:50:27
Speaker
The canvas faded and worn and that it was obviously being subjected to rather rough treatment. It was not a very nice bag. Certainly not a new one.
00:50:39
Speaker
Or one that his chief had valued. He gave the matter a passing thought and went on with his packing. Once or twice, however, he caught himself wondering who it could have been wandering down the stairs below.
00:50:57
Speaker
For Mrs. Monks had not come up with the letters and the floor was empty and unfurnished. From time to time, moreover, he was almost certain he heard a soft tread of someone padding over the bare boards.
00:51:14
Speaker
Cautiously, stealthily, as silent as possible, and further that the sounds had been lately coming distantly distinctly nearer.
00:51:26
Speaker
For the first time in his life, he began to feel a little creepy. Then as though to emphasize this feeling, an odd thing happened. As he left the bedroom, having just packed his white shirts, he noticed that the top of the kit bag lobbed over towards him with an extraordinary resemblance to a human face.
00:51:53
Speaker
Gammas fell into the fold like a nose and forehead and the brass rings for the padlock just filled the position of the eyes. Shadow? Or was it a travel scene?
00:52:07
Speaker
He could not tell exactly, but it looked like hair. It gave him rather a turn, for it was so absurdly, so outrageously like the face of John Turk, the murderer.
00:52:23
Speaker
He laughed and went into the front room where the light was stronger. That hard case has got into my mind, he thought. I shall be glad of a change of scene and a change of fresh air.
00:52:39
Speaker
In the sitting room, however, he was not pleased to hear again that stealthily tread upon the stairs and to realise that it was much closer than before.
00:52:51
Speaker
This was mistakenly becoming real. And this time he got up and went out to see who he could be creeping about the upper staircase at such a late hour. The sound ceased.
00:53:05
Speaker
There was nobody visible on the stairs. He went to the floor below, not without trepidation, and turned on the electric light to make sure that no one was hiding in the empty rooms of the unoccupied suite.
00:53:21
Speaker
there was not a stick of furniture large enough to hide a dog then he called over the banister to mrs monks there was no answer his voice echoed down into the dark vault of the house and was lost in the roar of the gale that howled outside everyone was in bed and asleep
00:53:46
Speaker
everyone except himself and the owner of this soft and stealthily tread.
00:53:55
Speaker
My absurd imagination, I suppose, he thought it must have been the wind after all. Although it seems so very real and close, he thought.
00:54:09
Speaker
He went back to his packing. It was by this time getting on towards midnight. He drank his coffee and lit pipe, the last before turning in.
00:54:23
Speaker
It was difficult to say exactly at what point fear begins when the causes of the fear are not plainly be before the eyes. Impressions gather on the surface of the mind, film by film, as ice gathers upon the surface of still water, but often so lightly that the claim no definite recognition
00:54:49
Speaker
then a point is reached where the accumulated impressions become a definite emotion and the mind realizes that something has happened with something of a start Johnson suddenly recognize that he felt nervous oddly nervous Also, that for some time, past the causes of this feeling that had been gathering slowly in his mind,
00:55:20
Speaker
he had only just reached that point where he was forced to acknowledge them. It was a singular and curious malaise that had come over him, and he hardly knew what to make of it.
00:55:34
Speaker
He felt as though he was doing something that was strongly objected to by another person.
00:55:42
Speaker
another person moreover who had some right to object. It was a most disturbing and disagreeable feeling, not unlike the persistent prompting of consciousness.
00:55:55
Speaker
Almost in fact, as if he were doing something he knew to be wrong.
00:56:02
Speaker
Yet though, he searched vigorously and honestly in his mind. He could nowhere lay his finger upon the secret of his growing uneasiness, and it perplexed him.
00:56:15
Speaker
More, it distressed and frightened him. Pure nerves, I suppose, he said out loud with a forced laugh. Mountain and air will cure all that, still speaking to himself.
00:56:31
Speaker
And that reminds me, my snow glasses. He was standing by the door of the bedroom during this brief thought, and as he passed quickly towards the sitting room to fetch them from the cupboard, he saw out the corner of his eye, the indistinct outline of a figure standing on the stairs.
00:56:53
Speaker
A few feet from the top, it was someone one in a stooping position with one hand on the banisters and the face peering up towards the landing. At the same moment, he heard a shuffling footstep.
00:57:09
Speaker
The person who had been creeping about below all this time had now come up to his own floor. Who in the world could it be?
00:57:20
Speaker
And what in the name in heaven did they want?
00:57:24
Speaker
Johnson caught his breath sharply and stood stock still. Then after a few seconds hesitation, he found his courage and turned to investigate.
00:57:37
Speaker
He saw to his utter amazement.
00:57:42
Speaker
There was no one there.
00:57:46
Speaker
The place was empty. He felt a series of cold shivers run over him and something about the muscles of his legs gave a little and they grew weak.
00:57:58
Speaker
For the space of several minutes, he peered steadily into the shadows that congregated about the top of the staircase where he had seen the figure. And then he walked fast, almost ran in fact, into the light of the front room.
00:58:15
Speaker
But hardly had he passed inside the doorway when he heard someone come up the stairs behind him with a quick bound and go swiftly into his bedroom. It was a heavy, but at the same time, a stealthy footstep, the tread of somebody who did not wish to be seen.
00:58:34
Speaker
It was at this precise moment that the nervousness he had hitherto experienced leaped the boundary line and entered the state of fear, almost of acute, unreasoning fear.
00:58:49
Speaker
Before it turned into terror, there was a further boundary to cross, and beyond that again lay the region of pure horror.
00:58:58
Speaker
Johnson's position was not a good one. By Jove, that was someone on the stairs, he muttered, his fresh his flesh crawling all over, and whoever it was had now gone into his bedroom.
00:59:17
Speaker
His delicate, pale face turned absolutely white, and for some minutes he hardly knew what to think or do.
00:59:28
Speaker
Then he realised intuitively that delay was only set a premium upon fear. and he crossed the landing boldly and went straight into the other room, where a few seconds before, the steps had disappeared.
00:59:47
Speaker
Who's there? Is that you, Mrs Monks? He called aloud as he went, and he heard the first half of his words echo down the empty stairs, while the second half fell dead against the curtains in a room that apparently held no human figure than his own.
01:00:05
Speaker
who's there he called again in a voice unnecessarily loud and that only just held firm what do you want here
01:00:15
Speaker
the curtain swayed very slightly and as he saw it saw it his heart felt as if it had almost missed a beat yet he dashed forward and drew them aside with a rush A window streaming with rain was all that met his gaze.
01:00:33
Speaker
He continued his search, but to no avail. The cupboards held nothing but rows of clothes hanging motionless, and under their bed there was no sign of anybody hiding.
01:00:47
Speaker
He stepped backwards into the middle of the room, and as he did so, something all but tripped him up. Turning with a sudden spring of alarm, he saw the kip That's odd, he thought.
01:01:02
Speaker
That's not where I left it. A few moments before, it was surely been on his right-hand side, between the bed and the bath. He did not remember moving it.
01:01:15
Speaker
It was very curious. What in the world was the matter with everything? Where all his senses have gone? A terrible gust of wind tore at the windows, dashing the sleet against the glass with the force of small gunshot.
01:01:31
Speaker
and then fled away howling dismally over the waste of Bloomsbury roofs. A sudden vision of the channel next day rose in his mind and recalled him sharply to reality.
01:01:46
Speaker
There's no one here at any rate, that's quite clear, he explained aloud. Yet at the time he uttered them he knew perfectly well that his words were not true and that he did not believe them himself.
01:02:02
Speaker
He felt exactly as though someone was hiding close about him, watching all his movements, trying to hinder his packing in some way. And two of his senses, he added, keeping up the pretense, having played me in the most absurd tricks.
01:02:20
Speaker
The steps I heard and the figure I saw were both entirely imaginable.
01:02:29
Speaker
He went back to the front room, poked the fire into a blaze and sat down.
01:02:37
Speaker
What impressed him more than anything was the fact that the kit bag was no longer where he had left it. It had been dragged nearer to the door. What happened afterwards that night, of course, to a man already excited with fear and was perceived by man that would not the full and proper control of his senses.
01:03:02
Speaker
Outwardly, Johnson remained calm and a master of himself to the end, pretending to the very last that everything he witnessed had a natural explanation.
01:03:15
Speaker
always merely delusions of the tired nerves. But inwardly, in his very heart, he knew all along that someone had been hiding downstairs in the empty suite.
01:03:28
Speaker
That this person had watched the opportunity, and then stealthily made his way up to the bedroom. And the oily sir and ho heard afterwards, from the moving of the kit bag,
01:03:41
Speaker
to well to the other things this story has to tell, were caused directly by the presence of an invisible man. And it was here, just when he most desired to keep his mind and thoughts controlled, that the vivid pictures received day after day upon the mental plates exposed in the courtroom of the old Bailey came strongly to light and developed themselves in the dark room of his inner vision.
01:04:09
Speaker
Unpleasant haunting memories have a way of coming to life again just when the mind the mind least desires them. In the silent watches of the night on sleepless pillows during the lonely hours spent by sick and dying beds and so now in the same way.
01:04:31
Speaker
Johnson saw nothing but the dreadful face of John Turk, the murderer, lowering at him from every corner of his mental field of vision. The white skin, the evil eyes and the fringe of black hair low over the forehead.
01:04:49
Speaker
All the pictures of those 10 days in court crowded back into his mind, unbinding and very vivid. This is all rubbish and nerves, he exclaimed at length, springing with sudden energy from his chair.
01:05:06
Speaker
I shall finish my packing and go to bed. I'm overwrought, overtired. No doubt at this rate I shall hear steps and things all night.
01:05:19
Speaker
But his face was deadly white all the same. He snatched up his field glasses and walked across to the bedroom, humming a music whoresong as he went, a trifle too loud to be natural.
01:05:33
Speaker
And the instant he crossed the threshold and stood within the room, something turned cold about his heart. And he felt that very hair on his head stood up.
01:05:46
Speaker
The kit bag lay close in front of him. several feet nearer to the door than than he had left it. And just over its crumpled top, he saw a head and face slowly slinking sinking down out of sight, as though someone was crouching behind to hide.
01:06:06
Speaker
At the same moment, the sound like a long drawn sigh was distinctly audible in the air between the gusts of the storm outside. Johnson had more courage and willpower than the girlish indecision of his face indicated.
01:06:23
Speaker
But of at the first such a wave of terror came over him and for some seconds he could do nothing but stand and stare. A violent trembling ran down his back and legs and he was conscious of a foolish, almost hysterical impulse to scream aloud.
01:06:41
Speaker
That sigh seemed in his very ear and the air still quivered with it. It was almost mistakably a human sigh. Who's there?
01:06:51
Speaker
He said at length, finding his voice. But though he meant to speak with loud decision, the tones came out instead in a faint whisper. For he had partially lost the control of his tongue and lips.
01:07:07
Speaker
He stepped forward so that he could see all around and over the kit bag, of course, there was nothing there. Nothing but the faded carpet and the ball gang canvas sides.
01:07:19
Speaker
He put out his hands and throw up the mouth of the sack where it had fallen over and being only three parts full, he saw for the first time that round the inside, some six inches from the top, there ran a broad smear of dull crimson.
01:07:38
Speaker
It was an old and faded bloodstain. He utter uttered a scream and drew back his hands as if they had been burnt. At the same moment, the kit bag gave a faint but unmistakably lurch towards the foot door.
01:07:56
Speaker
Johnson collapsed backwards, searching with his hands for the support of something solid and the door being further behind than he realised, received his weight just in time to prevent his falling.
01:08:08
Speaker
and to and shut with a resounding bang at the same moment the swinging of his left arm accidentally touched the electrical switch and the light in the room went out
01:08:21
Speaker
it was an awkward and disagreeable predicament and if johnson had not been possessed of real pluck he might have gone all manner of foolish things As it was, however, he pulled himself together and groped furiously for the little brass knob to turn the light on again.
01:08:40
Speaker
But the rapid closing of the door had set the coats hanging on it a-swinging, and his fingers became entangled in a confusion of sleeves and pockets, so there were some moments before he found the switch.
01:08:54
Speaker
And in those few moments of bewilderment and terror, two things happened that sent him beyond recall over the boundary into the region of genuine horror. He distinctly heard the kit bag shuffling heavily across the floor in jerks.
01:09:09
Speaker
And close in front of his face sounded once again like the sign of a human being. In his anguished efforts to find the brass button on the wall, he nearly scraped the nails from his fingers.
01:09:23
Speaker
But even then, in those frenzied moments of alarm, so swift and alert are the impressions of a man keyed up with a vivid emotion, he had time to realise that he dreaded the return of the light and that it may be better for him to stay hidden.
01:09:44
Speaker
In the merciful screen of darkness, it was but the impulse of a moment, however, and before he had time to act upon it, had yielded automatically to the original desire, and the room was flooded again with light.
01:10:00
Speaker
But the second instinct had been right. It would have been better for him to have stayed in the shelter of the kind darkness, for there, close before him, bending over the half-packed kit bag,
01:10:14
Speaker
clear as life in the merciful merciless gla mercifulless glare of the electric light stood the figure of john turk the murderer not three feet from him the man stood the fringe of black hair marked plainly against the pillow of his forehead the whole horrible presentment of the scoundrel as vivid as he had seen him day after day in the old bailey where he stood in the dock cynical and callous under the very shadow of the gallows in a flash johnson realized what it meant the dirty and much used bag the smear of crimson within the top
01:10:58
Speaker
the dreadful stretch condition of the bulge inside. He remembered how the victim's body had been stuffed into a canvas bag for burial. The ghastly dismembered fragments forced with lime into this very bag and the bag itself produced as evidence.
01:11:16
Speaker
It all came back to him as clear as day. Very softly and stealthily, his hand groped behind him for the handle of the door. But before he could actually turn it, the very thing that he most of all dreaded came about.
01:11:33
Speaker
John Turk lifted his devil face and looked at him. At the same moment, that heavy sigh passed through the air of the room, formulated something into words.
01:11:47
Speaker
It's my bag and I want it.
01:11:52
Speaker
Johnson just remembered clawing the door open and then falling in a heap upon the floor of the landing as he tried frantically to make his way into the front room.
01:12:04
Speaker
He remained unconscious for a long time and it was still dark when he opened his eyes and realised that he was lying stiff and bruised on the cold boards.
01:12:16
Speaker
Then the memory of what he had seen rushed back into his mind and he promptly fainted again.
01:12:24
Speaker
When he woke the second time, the wintry dawn was just beginning to peep in at the windows, painting the stairs a cheerless, dismal grey, and he managed to crawl into the front room and cover himself with an overcoat in the armchair, where at length he fell asleep.
01:12:45
Speaker
A great clamour woke him. He recognised mrs vo Mrs. Monk's voice, loud and voluble. what you ain't been to bed sir are you ill or has anything happened and there's an urgent gentleman to see you though it ain't seven o'clock yet who is it he stammered i'm all right thanks i just fell asleep in the chair i suppose someone from mr wilbrim's and he says he ought to see you quick before you go abroad
01:13:20
Speaker
show him up please at once said johnson whose head was whirling and his mind was still full of dreadful visions mr wilbraham's man came in with many apologies and explained briefly and quickly that an absurd absurd mistake had been made and that the wrong kit bag had been sent over the night before henry we somehow got hold of the one that came over from the courtroom And Mr Wilbraham only discovered it when he saw his own lying in his room and asked why it had not gone to you, the man said.
01:13:58
Speaker
Oh, said Johnson stupidly. And he must have brought you the one from the murder case instead, sir. The man continued.
01:14:09
Speaker
Without the ghost of an expression on his face,
01:14:15
Speaker
he paused.
01:14:17
Speaker
The bag that John Turk packed the dead people in. Mr Wilbraham's awful upset about it, sir, and told me to come over first thing this morning with the right one, as you were believing by your boat.
01:14:33
Speaker
He pointed to a clean looking kit bag on the floor, which he had just brought, and it was to bring the other one back. He had casually. For some minutes, Johnson could not find his voice.
01:14:47
Speaker
At last he pointed in the direction of his bedroom. Perhaps you could kindly unpack it for me. Just empty the things onto the floor. The man disappeared into the other room and was gone for five minutes.
01:15:01
Speaker
Johnson heard the shifting to and fro of the bag and the rattle of the skates being unpacked. Thank you, sir, the man said, returned with the bag folded over his arm.
01:15:13
Speaker
And can I do anything more to help you?
01:15:18
Speaker
What is it? asked Johnson, seeing that he still had something he wished to say. The man shuffled and looked mysterious. Beg pardon, sir, but knowing your interest in the Turk case, I thought you maybe like to know what's happened.
01:15:34
Speaker
Yes?
01:15:37
Speaker
John Turk killed himself last night with poison. and he left a note to Mr Wilbraham saying as he had much obliged if they would have have him put away same as the woman he murdered in the old kit bag.
01:15:58
Speaker
What time did he kill himself? Johnson asked. Sir, it was 10 o'clock last night.
01:16:09
Speaker
They end.
Conclusion and Reflection
01:16:14
Speaker
So ladies and gentlemen, there were five stories. The last one was a little bit longer than the four previous. I hope you've enjoyed stories.
01:16:26
Speaker
And this brings our webinar to an end. Thank you.