WHAT WAS IT?
It is, I confess, with considerable diffidence that I approached thestrange narrative which I am about to relate. The events which I purposedetailing are of so extraordinary a character that I am quite preparedto meet with an unusual amount of incredulity and scorn. I accept allsuch beforehand. I have, I trust, the literary courage to face unbelief.I have, after mature consideration, resolved to narrate, in as simpleand straightforward a manner as I can compass, some facts that passedunder my observation, in the month of July last, and which, in theannals of the mysteries of physical science, are wholly unparalleled.
I live at No. -- Twenty-sixth Street, in New York. The house is in somerespects a curious one. It has enjoyed for the last two years thereputation of being haunted. The house is very spacious. A hall of noblesize leads to a large spiral staircase winding through its centre, whilethe various apartments are of imposing dimensions. It was built somefifteen or twenty years since by Mr. A----, the well-known New Yorkmerchant, who five years ago threw the commercial world into convulsionsby a stupendous bank fraud. Mr. A----, as every one knows, escaped toEurope, and died not long after, of a broken heart. Almost immediatelyafter the news of his decease reached this country and was verified,the report spread in Twenty-sixth Street that No. -- was haunted. Legalmeasures had dispossessed the widow of its former owner, and it wasinhabited merely by a care-taker and his wife, placed there by thehouse-agent into whose hands it had passed for purposes of renting orsale. These people declared that they were troubled with unnaturalnoises. Doors were opened without any visible agency. The remnants offurniture scattered through the various rooms were, during the night,piled one upon the other by unknown hands. Invisible feet passed up anddown the stairs in broad daylight, accompanied by the rustle of unseensilk dresses, and the gliding of viewless hands along the massivebalusters. The care-taker and his wife declared they would live there nolonger. The house-agent laughed, dismissed them, and put others in theirplace. The noises and supernatural manifestations continued. Theneighborhood caught up the story, and the house remained untenanted forthree years. Several persons negotiated for it; but, somehow, alwaysbefore the bargain was closed they heard the unpleasant rumors anddeclined to treat any further.
It was in this state of things that my landlady, who at that time kept aboarding-house in Bleecker Street, and who wished to move farther uptown, conceived the bold idea of renting No. -- Twenty-sixth Street.Happening to have in her house rather a plucky and philosophical set ofboarders, she laid her scheme before us, stating candidly everything shehad heard respecting the ghostly qualities of the establishment to whichshe wished to remove us. With the exception of two timid persons--asea-captain and a returned Californian, who immediately gave notice thatthey would leave--all of Mrs. Moffat's guests declared that they wouldaccompany her in her incursion into the abode of spirits.
Our removal was effected in the month of May, and we were charmed withour new residence.
Of course we had no sooner established ourselves at No. -- than we beganto expect the ghosts. We absolutely awaited their advent with eagerness.Our dinner conversation was supernatural. I found myself a person ofimmense importance, it having leaked out that I was tolerably wellversed in the history of supernaturalism, and had once written a storythe foundation of which was a ghost. If a table or wainscot panelhappened to warp when we were assembled in the large drawing-room, therewas an instant silence, and every one was prepared for an immediateclanking of chains and a spectral form.
After a month of psychological excitement, it was with the utmostdissatisfaction that we were forced to acknowledge that nothing in theremotest degree approaching the supernatural had manifested itself.
Things were in this state when an incident took place so awful andinexplicable in its character that my reason fairly reels at the barememory of the occurrence. It was the tenth of July. After dinner wasover I repaired, with my friend Dr. Hammond, to the garden to smoke myevening pipe. Independent of certain mental sympathies which existedbetween the doctor and myself, we were linked together by a vice. Weboth smoked opium. We knew each other's secret and respected it. Weenjoyed together that wonderful expansion of thought, that marvellousintensifying of the perceptive faculties, that boundless feeling ofexistence when we seem to have points of contact with the wholeuniverse--in short, that unimaginable spiritual bliss, which I would notsurrender for a throne, and which I hope you, reader, will never--nevertaste.
On the evening in question, the tenth of July, the doctor and myselfdrifted into an unusually metaphysical mood. We lit our largemeerschaums, filled with fine Turkish tobacco, in the core of whichburned a little black nut of opium, that, like the nut in the fairytale, held within its narrow limits wonders beyond the reach of kings;we paced to and fro, conversing. A strange perversity dominated thecurrents of our thoughts. They would not flow through the sun-litchannels into which we strove to divert them. For some unaccountablereason, they constantly diverged into dark and lonesome beds, where acontinual gloom brooded. It was in vain that, after our old fashion, weflung ourselves on the shores of the East, and talked of its gaybazaars, of the splendors of the time of Haroun, of harems and goldenpalaces. Black afreets continually arose from the depths of our talk,and expanded, like the one the fisherman released from the coppervessel, until they blotted everything bright from our vision.Insensibly, we yielded to the occult force that swayed us, and indulgedin gloomy speculation. We had talked some time upon the proneness of thehuman mind to mysticism, and the almost universal love of the terrible,when Hammond suddenly said to me, "What do you consider to be thegreatest element of terror?"
The question puzzled me. That many things were terrible, I knew. But itnow struck me, for the first time, that there must be one great andruling embodiment of fear--a King of Terrors, to which all others mustsuccumb. What might it be? To what train of circumstances would it oweits existence?
"I confess, Hammond," I replied to my friend, "I never considered thesubject before. That there must be one Something more terrible than anyother thing, I feel. I cannot attempt, however, even the most vaguedefinition."
"I am somewhat like you, Harry," he answered. "I feel my capacity toexperience a terror greater than anything yet conceived by the humanmind--something combining in fearful and unnatural amalgamation hithertosupposed incompatible elements. The calling of the voices in BrockdenBrown's novel of 'Wieland' is awful; so is the picture of the Dweller onthe Threshold, in Bulwer's 'Zanoni;' but," he added, shaking his headgloomily, "there is something more horrible still than these."
"Look here, Hammond," I rejoined, "let us drop this kind of talk, forHeaven's sake! We shall suffer for it, depend on it."
"I don't know what's the matter with me to-night," he replied, "but mybrain is running upon all sorts of weird and awful thoughts. I feel asif I could write a story like Hoffman, to-night, if I were only masterof a literary style."
"Well, if we are going to be Hoffmanesque in our talk, I'm off to bed.Opium and nightmares should never be brought together. How sultry itis! Good-night, Hammond."
"Good-night, Harry. Pleasant dreams to you."
"To you, gloomy wretch, afreets, ghouls, and enchanters."
We parted, and each sought his respective chamber. I undressed quicklyand got into bed, taking with me, according to my usual custom, a bookover which I generally read myself to sleep. I opened the volume as soonas I had laid my head upon the pillow, and instantly flung it to theother side of the room. It was Goudon's "History of Monsters,"--acurious French work, which I had lately imported from Paris, but which,in the state of mind I had then reached, was anything but an agreeablecompanion. I resolved to go to sleep at once; so, turning down my gasuntil nothing but a little blue point of light glimmered on the top ofthe tube, I composed myself to rest.
The room was in total darkness. The atom of gas that still remainedalight did not illuminate a distance of three inches round the burner. Idesperately drew my arm across my eyes, as if to shut
out even thedarkness and tried to think of nothing. It was in vain. The confoundedthemes touched on by Hammond in the garden kept obtruding themselves onmy brain. I battled against them. I erected ramparts of would-beblankness of intellect to keep them out. They still crowded upon me.While I was lying still as a corpse, hoping that by a perfect physicalinaction I should hasten mental repose, an awful incident occurred. ASomething dropped, as it seemed, from the ceiling, plumb upon my chest,and the next instant I felt two bony hands encircling my throat,endeavoring to choke me.
I am no coward, and am possessed of considerable physical strength. Thesuddenness of the attack, instead of stunning me, strung every nerve toits highest tension. My body acted from instinct, before my brain hadtime to realize the terrors of my position. In an instant I wound twomuscular arms around the creature, and squeezed it, with all thestrength of despair, against my chest. In a few seconds the bony handsthat had fastened on my throat loosened their hold, and I was free tobreathe once more. Then commenced a struggle of awful intensity.Immersed in the most profound darkness, totally ignorant of the natureof the Thing by which I was so suddenly attacked, finding my graspslipping every moment, by reason, it seemed to me, of the entirenakedness of my assailant, bitten with sharp teeth in the shoulder,neck, and chest, having every moment to protect my throat against a pairof sinewy, agile hands, which my utmost efforts could not confine--thesewere a combination of circumstances to combat which required all thestrength, skill, and courage that I possessed.
At last, after a silent, deadly, exhausting struggle, I got my assailantunder by a series of incredible efforts of strength. Once pinned, withmy knee on what I made out to be its chest, I knew that I was victor. Irested for a moment to breathe. I heard the creature beneath me pantingin the darkness, and felt the violent throbbing of a heart. It wasapparently as exhausted as I was; that was one comfort. At this moment Iremembered that I usually placed under my pillow, before going to bed,a large yellow silk pocket-handkerchief. I felt for it instantly; it wasthere. In a few seconds more I had, after a fashion, pinioned thecreature's arms.
I now felt tolerably secure. There was nothing more to be done but toturn on the gas, and, having first seen what my midnight assailant waslike, arouse the household. I will confess to being actuated by acertain pride in not giving the alarm before; I wished to make thecapture alone and unaided.
Never losing my hold for an instant, I slipped from the bed to thefloor, dragging my captive with me. I had but a few steps to make toreach the gas-burner; these I made with the greatest caution, holdingthe creature in a grip like a vice. At last I got within arm's length ofthe tiny speck of blue light which told me where the gas-burner lay.Quick as lightning I released my grasp with one hand and let on the fullflood of light. Then I turned to look at my captive.
I cannot even attempt to give any definition of my sensations theinstant after I turned on the gas. I suppose I must have shrieked withterror, for in less than a minute afterward my room was crowded with theinmates of the house. I shudder now as I think of that awful moment. _Isaw nothing!_ Yes; I had one arm firmly clasped round a breathing,panting, corporeal shape, my other hand gripped with all its strength athroat as warm, and apparently fleshly, as my own; and yet, with thisliving substance in my grasp, with its body pressed against my own, andall in the bright glare of a large jet of gas, I absolutely beheldnothing! Not even an outline--a vapor!
I do not, even at this hour, realize the situation in which I foundmyself. I cannot recall the astounding incident thoroughly. Imaginationin vain tries to compass the awful paradox.
It breathed. I felt its warm breath upon my cheek. It struggledfiercely. It had hands. They clutched me. Its skin was smooth, like myown. There it lay, pressed close up against me, solid as stone--and yetutterly invisible!
I wonder that I did not faint or go mad on the instant. Some wonderfulinstinct must have sustained me; for absolutely, in place of looseningmy hold on the terrible Enigma, I seemed to gain an additional strengthin my moment of horror, and tightened my grasp with such wonderful forcethat I felt the creature shivering with agony.
Just then Hammond entered my room at the head of the household. As soonas he beheld my face--which, I suppose, must have been an awful sight tolook at--he hastened forward, crying, "Great Heaven, what has happened?"
"Hammond! Hammond!" I cried, "come here. Oh, this is awful! I have beenattacked in bed by something or other, which I have hold of; but I can'tsee it--I can't see it!"
Hammond, doubtless struck by the unfeigned horror expressed in mycountenance, made one or two steps forward with an anxious yet puzzledexpression. A very audible titter burst from the remainder of myvisitors. This suppressed laughter made me furious. To laugh at a humanbeing in my position! It was the worst species of cruelty. _Now_, I canunderstand why the appearance of a man struggling violently, as it wouldseem, with an airy nothing, and calling for assistance against a vision,should have appeared ludicrous. _Then_, so great was my rage against themocking crowd that had I the power I would have stricken them dead wherethey stood.
"Hammond! Hammond!" I cried again, despairingly, "for God's sake come tome. I can hold the--the thing but a short while longer. It isoverpowering me. Help me! Help me!"
"Harry," whispered Hammond, approaching me, "you have been smoking toomuch opium."
"I swear to you, Hammond, that this is no vision," I answered, in thesame low tone. "Don't you see how it shakes my whole frame with itsstruggles? If you don't believe me convince yourself. Feel it--touchit."
Hammond advanced and laid his hand in the spot I indicated. A wild cryof horror burst from him. He had felt it!
In a moment he had discovered somewhere in my room a long piece of cord,and was the next instant winding it and knotting it about the body ofthe unseen being that I clasped in my arms.
"Harry," he said, in a hoarse, agitated voice, for, though he preservedhis presence of mind, he was deeply moved, "Harry, it's all safe now.You may let go, old fellow, if you're tired. The Thing can't move."
I was utterly exhausted, and I gladly loosed my hold.
"BOTH OF US--CONQUERING OUR FEARFUL REPUGNANCE TO TOUCHTHE INVISIBLE CREATURE--LIFTED IT FROM THE GROUND, MANACLED AS IT WAS,AND TOOK IT TO MY BED."]
Hammond stood holding the ends of the cord, that bound the Invisible,twisted round his hand, while before him, self-supporting as it were, hebeheld a rope laced and interlaced, and stretching tightly around avacant space. I never saw a man look so thoroughly stricken with awe.Nevertheless his face expressed all the courage and determination whichI knew him to possess. His lips, although white, were set firmly, andone could perceive at a glance that, although stricken with fear, he wasnot daunted.
The confusion that ensued among the guests of the house who werewitnesses of this extraordinary scene between Hammond and myself--whobeheld the pantomime of binding this struggling Something--who beheld mealmost sinking from physical exhaustion when my task of jailer wasover--the confusion and terror that took possession of the bystanders,when they saw all this, was beyond description. The weaker ones fledfrom the apartment. The few who remained clustered near the door andcould not be induced to approach Hammond and his Charge. Stillincredulity broke out through their terror. They had not the courage tosatisfy themselves, and yet they doubted. It was in vain that I beggedof some of the men to come near and convince themselves by touch of theexistence in that room of a living being which was invisible. They wereincredulous, but did not dare to undeceive themselves. How could asolid, living, breathing body be invisible, they asked. My reply wasthis. I gave a sign to Hammond, and both of us--conquering our fearfulrepugnance to touch the invisible creature--lifted it from the ground,manacled as it was, and took it to my bed. Its weight was about that ofa boy of fourteen.
"Now, my friends," I said, as Hammond and myself held the creaturesuspended over the bed, "I can give you self-evident proof that here isa solid, ponderable body, which, nevertheless, you cannot see. Be goodenough to watch the surface
of the bed attentively."
I was astonished at my own courage in treating this strange event socalmly; but I had recovered from my first terror, and felt a sort ofscientific pride in the affair, which dominated every other feeling.
The eyes of the bystanders were immediately fixed on my bed. At a givensignal Hammond and I let the creature fall. There was the dull sound ofa heavy body alighting on a soft mass. The timbers of the bed creaked. Adeep impression marked itself distinctly on the pillow, and on the beditself. The crowd who witnessed this gave a low cry, and rushed from theroom. Hammond and I were left alone with our Mystery.
We remained silent for some time, listening to the low irregularbreathing of the creature on the bed and watching the rustle of thebed-clothes as it impotently struggled to free itself from confinement.Then Hammond spoke.
"Harry, this is awful."
"Ay, awful."
"But not unaccountable."
"Not unaccountable! What do you mean? Such a thing has never occurredsince the birth of the world. I know not what to think, Hammond. Godgrant that I am not mad and that this is not an insane fantasy!"
"Let us reason a little, Harry. Here is a solid body which we touch butwhich we cannot see. The fact is so unusual that it strikes us withterror. Is there no parallel, though, for such a phenomenon? Take apiece of pure glass. It is tangible and transparent. A certain chemicalcoarseness is all that prevents its being so entirely transparent as tobe totally invisible. It is not _theoretically impossible_, mind you, tomake a glass which shall not reflect a single ray of light--a glass sopure and homogeneous in its atoms that the rays from the sun will passthrough it as they do through the air, refracted but not reflected. Wedo not see the air, and yet we feel it."
"That's all very well, Hammond, but these are inanimate substances.Glass does not breathe, air does not breathe. This thing has a heartthat palpitates--a will that moves it--lungs that play, and inspire andrespire."
"You forget the phenomena of which we have so often heard of late,"answered the doctor gravely. "At the meetings called 'spirit circles,'invisible hands have been thrust into the hands of those persons roundthe table--warm, fleshly hands that seemed to pulsate with mortal life."
"What? Do you think, then, that this thing is----"
"I don't know what it is," was the solemn reply; "but please the gods Iwill, with your assistance, thoroughly investigate it."
We watched together, smoking many pipes, all night long, by the bedsideof the unearthly being that tossed and panted until it was apparentlywearied out. Then we learned by the low, regular breathing that itslept.
The next morning the house was all astir. The boarders congregated onthe landing outside my room, and Hammond and myself were lions. We hadto answer a thousand questions as to the state of our extraordinaryprisoner, for as yet not one person in the house except ourselves couldbe induced to set foot in the apartment.
The creature was awake. This was evidenced by the convulsive manner inwhich the bed-clothes were moved in its efforts to escape. There wassomething truly terrible in beholding, as it were, those second-handindications of the terrible writhings and agonized struggles for libertywhich themselves were invisible.
Hammond and myself had racked our brains during the long night todiscover some means by which we might realize the shape and generalappearance of the Enigma. As well as we could make out by passing ourhands over the creature's form, its outlines and lineaments were human.There was a mouth; a round, smooth head without hair; a nose, which,however, was little elevated above the cheeks; and its hands and feetfelt like those of a boy. At first we thought of placing the being on asmooth surface and tracing its outlines with chalk, as shoemakers tracethe outline of the foot. This plan was given up as being of no value.Such an outline would give not the slightest idea of its conformation.
A happy thought struck me. We would take a cast of it inplaster-of-Paris. This would give us the solid figure, and satisfy allour wishes. But how to do it. The movements of the creature woulddisturb the setting of the plastic covering, and distort the mould.Another thought. Why not give it chloroform? It had respiratoryorgans--that was evident by its breathing. Once reduced to a state ofinsensibility, we could do with it what we would. Doctor X---- was sentfor; and after the worthy physician had recovered from the first shockof amazement, he proceeded to administer the chloroform. In threeminutes afterward we were enabled to remove the fetters from thecreature's body, and a modeller was busily engaged in covering theinvisible form with the moist clay. In five minutes more we had a mould,and before evening a rough fac-simile of the Mystery. It was shaped likea man--distorted, uncouth, and horrible, but still a man. It was small,not over four feet and some inches in height, and its limbs revealed amuscular development that was unparalleled. Its face surpassed inhideousness anything I had ever seen. Gustave Dore, or Callot, or TonyJohannot, never conceived anything so horrible. There is a face in oneof the latter's illustrations to _Un Voyage ou il vous plaira_, whichsomewhat approaches the countenance of this creature, but does not equalit. It was the physiognomy of what I should fancy a ghoul might be. Itlooked as if it was capable of feeding on human flesh.
Having satisfied our curiosity, and bound every one in the house tosecrecy, it became a question what was to be done with our Enigma? Itwas impossible that we should keep such a horror in our house; it wasequally impossible that such an awful being should be let loose upon theworld. I confess that I would have gladly voted for the creature'sdestruction. But who would shoulder the responsibility? Who wouldundertake the execution of this horrible semblance to a human being? Dayafter day this question was deliberated gravely. The boarders all leftthe house. Mrs. Moffat was in despair, and threatened Hammond and myselfwith all sorts of legal penalties if we did not remove the Horror. Ouranswer was, "We will go if you like, but we decline taking this creaturewith us. Remove it yourself if you please. It appeared in your house. Onyou the responsibility rests." To this there was, of course, no answer.Mrs. Moffat could not obtain for love or money a person who would evenapproach the Mystery.
At last it died. Hammond and I found it cold and stiff one morning inthe bed. The heart had ceased to beat, the lungs to inspire. We hastenedto bury it in the garden. It was a strange funeral, the dropping of thatviewless corpse into the damp hole. The cast of its form I gave toDoctor X----, who keeps it in his museum in Tenth Street.
As I am on the eve of a long journey from which I may not return, I havedrawn up this narrative of an event the most singular that has ever cometo my knowledge.
+------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's Note: | | | |The words peckett (page 11), stronge (page 170) and Boulevart(s) | |(pages 59 and 80), the use of both L'Estrange and l'Estrange, and | |variations in hyphenated words have been retained as in the | |original book. | | | |Page 21 "Derybshire" changed to "Derbyshire" | | | |Page 22 "felt their hair" changed to "felt the hair" | | | |Page 46 "Come baack to" changed to "Come back to" | | | |Page 48 Added " before Dear Mr. Westcar | | | |Page 61 "sufficiently start ling" changed to | | "sufficiently startling" | | | |Page 84 Changed " to ' before And what other | | | |Page 95 Removed " before together with | |
| |Page 115 "dangerous conditon" changed to "dangerous condition" | | | |Page 120 "keeeping the matter" changed to "keeping the matter" | | | |Page 123 Added " after new stalls, Gen'ral). | | | |Page 127 "beyond each" changed to "beyond reach" | | | |Page 138 "tradionally imputed" changed to "traditionally imputed" | | | |Page 152 "by which pedestrains" changed to "by which pedestrians" | | | |Page 164 "buy the joint of you" changed to "buy the joint off you"| | | |Page 191 "was on the the man's" changed to "was on the man's" | | | |Page 219 "Miss Collingwood had been languid" changed to | | "Miss Collingham had been languid" | | | |Page 220 Added " before Miss Collingham started | | | |Page 232 Removed " before The shades of evening | | | |Page 233 "Ferhaps the following" changed to | | "Perhaps the following" | | | |Page 235 "it gavevent to" changed to "it gave vent to" | | | |Page 250 "my rage are against" changed to "my rage against" | +------------------------------------------------------------------+
A Stable for Nightmares; or, Weird Tales Page 11
