Dark Designs

by Flowers, Thomas S.

  "We continued with something resembling awkward smalltalk and I gave her what remained of my packed lunch. The food was of better quality than she was used to and she devoured it hungrily.

  "In the scattered talk that followed, I recall on one occasion her saying, 'At night there are the dreams.'

  "Again I recalled from my conversations with Frankenstein that her creator had thought that he had killed her on that island in Orkney. His mind, he had informed me, was confused. Beneath the sheet however, so was his creation’s.

  "'I began life in darkness, hearing the muttering of my creator as the first sounds in revived ears. The maddened god that was breathing life with his strange smelling, acrid chemicals like the ardent and heavy breath of a sorcerer’s cauldron, was hidden from me. My eyes, that had closed in death, struggled to open once more, stung by the light that came through the sheet that covered me.'

  "I was both impressed and mystified by the clarity and refinement of her speech and between us we came to the understanding of how she had revived in the room and escaped out into the night. Frankenstein must later have entered the room in much distress, gathered up the cadavers in the house without due care. Putting the body parts in a basket and weighing it down with stones, he cast it into the sea and thought that there was an end to it.

  "'It seems that I was taken in by two people on the island. I remember that they spoke a different tongue to my maker. They looked after me well I am sure, and I was happy in their presence. But they took closer care of their babe in arms and I looked upon it with envy.'

  "She told me something of being driven out of the house by the couple, of sleeping in a fishing boat that carried her to the mainland in emulation of her maker and how she had to be away from such a place. In my own mind, I also fled that place, conscious that something terrible had occurred.

  "'Sir William Calder of the Scots College in Douai, near Paris, decided that I was ‘nickey,’ or simple-minded. The doctor had prevented his colleagues from trepanning me however as he thought it unnecessary. He was also to note that I responded well to conversation.

  "'I was eventually placed in an asylum. Where else would a creature such as I be boxed away from frightened eyes? But unlike the poor wretches around me, I appeared to be getting better. The asylum is full of people like me. Living but failing to understand why. Full grown men and women drooling like babies.

  "'The resident physician, Dr Thomas Cochrane, found me very interesting. He took a lot of time teaching me to speak. Often he would just talk; he liked to talk and could do it for hours. He spoke of his life, his studies, his travels in Europe. I did not understand at first but he slowly brought order to chaos. When laws and patterns are presented to you and understood, knowledge and learning can be consumed. With the good doctor as my oracle, I learned much. I was however entrapped within the confines of his wisdom and his prejudices.

  "'But I was educating myself and I chose my models for behaviour, not from the gibbering madness around me, but from the asylum staff; the attendants and keepers. The good doctor was quite intrigued.'

  "Her story was certainly revelatory and I was careful not to interrupt. When she looked longingly at the water jug by my side, I handed it to her without comment. She gulped deeply, wiped her mouth and continued.

  "'One of the keepers thought me a demoniac and would not come near me,’ she said with a strange smile, gazing at me with those deep dark eyes; watching my every move.

  "We remained awake talking through the night. Who could sleep at such a time? The following day was overcast. The Bride came with me, amiably enough, to Harding’s house, its position in the city ensuring that there were few people around to see. In Harding’s study, after he had recovered from his surprise, the giant woman looked on with an expression of disinterested wisdom as the surgeon examined her.

  "Joining me where I stood by the window, looking out over the rising storm, Harding buttoned his sleeve cuffs.

  "'The body is very strong and resilient,' he said. 'There are a lot of organs missing however for her to live more than a few more years. She needs to be finished; to be fully built if you prefer.'

  "'If we could find the parts, could you transplant them?' I asked hopefully.

  "Harding nodded thoughtfully. We were both thinking of the next step. For a long time, Harding said nothing; then, 'There is a man, Half-Hangit John Allardyce, that I have found to be very reliable.'

  "Harding looked at me meaningfully and I knew not to ask any indelicate questions. He informed me that the man in question hung around burial grounds, himself like a ghostly cadaver. Harding did not want him near his house however, neither did he want to be seen with him in public. I on the other hand, had no such qualms.

  "'Half-Hangit,' I said, 'What does that mean?'

  "Harding smiled. 'A man of your learning will discover soon enough.'

  "And so I entered the murky world of the resurrection men. The man known as ‘Half-Hangit’ Allardyce haunted the public houses within the parish of Greyfriars. Body snatching season actually begins in the Autumn with its dark nights and the fact that the new terms in anatomy schools are just beginning, so I supposed that he would be relatively idle.

  "At Harding’s instigation I took myself off to a public house known as The Gravedigger. Feeling uncomfortable in the less than salubrious surroundings, a hand suddenly fell upon my shoulder. As I looked up in some alarm, a dishevelled man in a black, double-breasted pea-coat threw himself down on the bench opposite. This was ‘Half-Hangit John.

  "'Guid evenin’ sir,' he said, 'our mutual acquaintance, ‘London Jack’ advised me to ‘look out for the toff in the snug.'

  "Looking around at the other faces amid the smoke, his side-glancing eyes, cunning and quick in a sallow, slightly gaunt face, appraised me as I sat. Thin and unkempt, with a strange scar about his throat, he had a couple of day’s fair stubble upon his jaw. His fingers fiddled with a length of black twist.

  "'Harding told me what it is you would be wanting,' he said, not looking at me, 'Prospects are thin on the ground this time o’ year so there shouldn’t be a problem.'

  "Allardyce, it transpired, was eager to talk as the interest of a toff was not common to him. In the taproom where it was less crowded I bought him several pints of ‘half-and-half.’

  "'It’s a strange name that you have,' I said. 'Why are you known as Half-Hangit?'

  "Allardyce looked strangely solemn. 'They always said that I would get myself a halter.'

  "'A halter?' I asked.

  "'Get myself hanged.'

  "My eyes returned to the scar around his neck. And then, of course, it struck me. He bore the mark of the rope. His sentence had been carried out and an ‘act of God’ had saved him so that he was cut down alive.

  "I was a little uncomfortable but Allardyce returned to the business in hand.

  "'I think I can do the job that you need.' He looked over slyly. 'But I’ll need a bit o’ help.'

  "There were many defences against grave-robbery within a graveyard. Families sometimes employed watchmen or stood vigil themselves, staying for several weeks until the corpse was rendered unusable. It was a moonless night as we approached the fresh grave. Allardyce gestured to the Watch-house with its tall chimney. It appeared empty, Allardyce telling me to cast my eye upon it in case the watchman should return.

  "Using a shielded lantern and several candles placed in jars and arranged around the grave to reduce light, the two of us tipped over the flat gravestone with an iron bar. Allardyce went to work with the diligence of a craftsman. The job was long and difficult as straw had been mixed with the soil. Using a hatchet to break up the ground, Allardyce had a wooden shovel to keep down the noise of digging. Again taking up the hatchet, he broke open the upper part of the coffin, pulling the corpse out of the box with two hooks. Allardyce called this “fishin’ her oot.” Wrapping the body up in a blanket, Allardyce dropped the shroud and a ring he had found on her finger back into the coffin. Seeing my sur
prised look he explained that we could be accused of theft if the corpse’s possessions were taken.

  "There are many names for ressurectionists, ‘sack-‘em-ups’ being but one. As I watched Allardyce putting the body into a hemp sack I could see why. Hurrying away from the scene, we put the body into a large tea chest on Allardyce’ handcart and drew it back to Harding’s house, carrying the chest between us up to his anatomy room. After a quick examination, Harding had us stow the body, covered in a blanket under a flagstone in the cellar until the next day.

  "Due to the lateness of the hour, Harding instructed the housekeeper to make up a bed for Allardyce in one of the spare rooms. Harding was reluctant to send Allardyce out of his sight now that he knew some of the business afoot. Allardyce was himself a little surprised that Harding had detained him. In bed that night, the household noises grew fainter until they were drowned out by my thoughts.

  "The following day, Harding went to work in his anatomy room. As I watched, Harding took a teak wood box of instruments out of his medicine chest, the many knives and scalpels being laid out in the brass fittings within. Carefully, Harding proceeded to set these out on the linen table cloth. Alongside this I noticed one of the battered books penned by Frankenstein.

  "Throughout the day, Harding studied Frankenstein’s book, and, by turns, the Bride. She seemed mildly curious as he examined her skin, complying fully whenever he had her make slight movements in her limbs and he listened to her heart. It was late evening when Harding began his work.

  "When we took lunch together, Harding told me of Allardyce’s first encounter with the Bride that morning. He had apparently stood and stared. The ways of the gentry and the professions were a mystery to him, however, and he had seen much of horror and strange in the world in which he lived.

  "Through the door of the anatomy room, I could see the Bride seated by the bed Harding had prepared to treat her on. She was very alert and observant, sometimes bearing a strange, distant half-smile on her lips. Then the door closed, shutting us out.

  "While Harding worked, myself and Allardyce waited in the study, a room of heavy dark furniture. I sat by the chimney-piece opposite the ressurectionist, watching the tallow candle burn down. The candle-wick had been left unsnuffed, so that it rose higher than the flame, flakes of charred cotton falling from it. Eventually I trimmed the wick with the steel snuffers causing the light to brighten.

  "As we sat, Allardyce amused me by referring to Harding as ‘yon saw-bones.’ Outside, the ‘Skellat’ bellman wearing a tricorne hat, long red coat, blue breeches, white stockings and buckled shoes rang his bell and called out news and useful information. In a strong, booming voice, he was letting the populace know where fish had been freshly landed, the departure times of the stagecoaches and the closing times of local inns and hostelries.

  "Allardyce was saying something, talking mysteriously about seeing ‘the other side,’ rubbing his neck as he did so. Suddenly becoming aware of what he was saying I turned to ask a question but he had moved on. He had adopted the annoying habit of referring to the Bride as ‘yir guid wife.’ The tall clock at the stair-head sounded the hours three, four, five, and then Harding, in his shirt-sleeves, emerged wiping his bloodied hands on a linen towel.

  "Standing next to me before the great street window, he remarked, “She has a number of serious ailments that her robust physique seems to be well capable of bearing.

  "'Ailments,' I echoed.

  "'She has bloody flux, cardiac insufficiency; there are some symptoms of cramp colic, hectic fever and a touch of nephritis. Her condition is quite remarkable.' He went on, 'She also has a little trouble with her left oracle.'

  "Harding however, felt the work had gone well. The Bride was late to rise the following morning, still sleeping off the laudanum. She was to sleep the clock round in fact, Harding awakening her with a sweetmeat late in the afternoon. In consultation with Harding, I had decided to give her the name Elisabeth, sometimes shortened to Beth.

  "I had also realised quickly that there was a need to make the Bride aware of her own strength. Beginning with flower blooms, she became visibly disappointed when the beauty came apart in her grip. Harding’s cat, that had watched her with some surprise and curiosity itself played a role. The two eventually struck up a relationship and the cat’s frequent yowls of annoyance went some way in teaching her ‘a lighter touch.’

  "Harding had begun feeding a diet of raw eggs mixed with milk to Elisabeth at mealtimes. She gulped this concoction down, eyes wide and staring. But the concerns around her health remained.

  "I also felt from Harding that his nerves would not cope with Elisabeth languishing in his home for much longer, filled as she was with stolen body-parts. I decided therefore, to return to London as quickly as possible.

  "Over a particularly fine bottle of claret, I persuaded him to take a leave of absence to come south with us however. I did not have to try hard as although he complained about such an excursion, his curiosity and his intellect were greatly aroused.

  "'Perhaps we can persuade Allardyce to come also.' Harding suggested, 'He has his uses.'

  "Harding was of the opinion that Elisabeth needed one more operation to be a truly created woman. He felt that some of her internal workings would need augmentation or replacing. Inevitably we had to confront the reality that we needed another corpse. For that we needed Allardyce.

  "'The small amounts of money that we give him and the conditions that he now works in are so much better than the dark squalor of Edinburgh,' I suggested.

  "Harding thought for a moment, 'You know, I do not think that he is a native of this city.'

  "A modest amount of shillings made Allardyce our accomplice for the days ahead. His accumulating knowledge of the situation and his trade made this appear to us a wise decision.

  "Harding had borrowed the coach of a friend to travel south. It was a port chaise (a four-wheeled coach that stops at inns to change horses, etc.), Allardyce modified the seat with his hatchet to accommodate Elisabeth. On the journey, he would accompany her into the woods along the way to answer the call of nature, likening this to ‘walking his dog.’ I confess I was outraged and relieved in equal measure. He was just so useful.

  "Elisabeth was clothed in a loose man’s shirt and a pair of trousers, secured for her by Allardyce that had once belonged to a simpleton of roughly her size. It was necessary to give her man’s clothes as no woman attained such stature. Her braided hair when necessary was put down her shirt to conceal her womanhood when it was necessary to move away from the coach. She learned quickly, on the road south her speech improved noticeably day-by-day. Her diction became clearer, the growl going from her voice, becoming quite male at first before softening to that akin to a young lady.

  "Harding had a real talent for itinerary and we stopped at several post houses and inns along the way. Harding did his research and soon discovered that a fresh female corpse had just been interred in the tomb of a wealthy family in a small Suffolk town called Bures. We therefore decided to make a detour on our journey. When the post-boy at Carlyle came out to help change the horses, Allardyce threw a blanket over Elisabeth, persuading her to remain still.

  "Throughout the journey we endeavoured to pass the time as best we could. On occasion I told stories that I remembered from my childhood. The tale of Prince Vanye greatly delighted Elisabeth and she clapped when the prince evaded the Mountain hag within the Valley of Despond. Allardyce sang a weavers’ song. Unaccompanied by music, the song lilted, in Gaelic, suggesting that he was not a native of Edinburgh.

  "Allardyce also had a number of ‘chapbooks.’ These are cheaply produced booklets or pamphlets, bought from a chapman, or travelling peddlar. Allardyce had used to read these to the out-of-work weavers that shared the lodging house with him. They included thrilling tales of adventure in the Caribean. At times he would read these to Elisabeth, the simple language and the halting way in which he read being ideal.

  "Pulling into the small vil
lage of Bures, a name I could not properly pronounce, the lack of people in the street made it highly desireable for us to disembark. Taking rooms at the Bures Swan, we endevoured to keep Elisabeth out of sight and she hid in the stables with Allardyce and the horses, sleeping under the coach on a horse’s blanket.

  "'The toffs look after themselves,' Allardyce said somewhat pointedly.

  "After a dinner of butter, bread, cheese and roasted fish, each with a heavy bumper of brandy, myself and Harding went out to the stable to discuss our way forward. Sitting in, or standing around the coach, we four planned our next step. In preparing to rob the tomb of the local Howard family, Allardyce informed us that he would require both myself and Harding’s help. It therefore became obvious that we would have to take Elisabeth with us as we could not risk her wanderring off.

  "Allardyce gathered the tools of his trade, including with them an old Brown Bess musket wrapped in a hemp sack for concealment, putting these in the handcart he had borrowed from the corner of the coach house.

  "The cemetery and churchyard were situated some way from the town, the townspeople walking through the fields and down the slope to the church on Sundays. As dusk fell the four of us approached the path that ran along the edge of the wood through ferns and brushwood. Skirting the wood, the path ran over the crest of a hill and through a meadow to where several old yew trees loomed. The corpse-gate, a roofed gateway to the churchyard used as a resting place for a bier before burial, was shaded by two great elms. Passing through the low stone wall with high iron railings that encircled the churchyard. We came into the cemetery. Crooked gravestones rose thickly amidst the grass and nettles, Elisabeth sitting herself on a low, flat gravestone.

  "Allardyce however advanced with a purpose, returning to persuade her to come with him to break open a large domed burial vault at the centre of the cemetery. The masonry had not fully set and Elisabeth easily tore a hole. The creature had such fearsome strength and it set me to wondering, if the same process were to be applied to a child, would the child grow, and at an equal rate of physical development.