The Story of the Grey House - Hesketh Vernon Hesketh-Prichard

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Story of the Gray House by E and H. Heron.
Mister Flaxman Low declares that only on one occasion has
he undertaken, unasked, the solving of a psychical mystery. To
that case he always refers as the affair of the
Gray House. The house bears a different name in the

(00:23):
annals of more than one scientific society, and much controversy
has raged over the strange details of a story that
seems to open up a new province of fantastic horror.
Papers and treatises have been written about it in almost
every European language, and many dismaying facts of a somewhat
analogous nature have thus been brought to light. There was

(00:45):
some hesitation at first about laying this matter, backed as
it is by an explanation which, though terrible, is not
altogether unsupported before the public, but it has finally been
decided to incorporate it in the present series. During the
summer of eighteen ninety three, mister Low happened to be
staying in a lonely village on the coast of Devon.

(01:06):
He was deeply immersed in some antiquarian work connected with
the old Norse calenders, and therefore limited his acquaintance in
the neighborhood to one individual, a doctor Fremantle, who, besides
being a medical man, was a botanist of some note.
One afternoon, when driving together, mister Low and doctor Fremantle
passed through a valley which nestled Cuplike in the higher

(01:29):
ground a few miles inland. As they passed along a deep,
steep lane with overhanging hedges, they caught a glimpse through
a break in the leaves of a gray gable peeping
out between the horizontal branches of a cedar Flaxman Low
pointed it out to his companion. That's young Monteson's house,
answered Fremantle, and it bears a very sinister reputation. Nothing

(01:55):
in your line, though with a smile. Indeed, no ghost
would lend the same hitt deous associations to the place
it now possesses. As the result of a succession of
mysterious murders that have occurred there, the grounds seem neglected.
I don't remember to have seen such rank growth anywhere,
certainly not inside the British Isles, returned Fremantle. The estate

(02:17):
is left to the care of itself, partly because Montesen
won't live there, partly because it is impossible to find
laborers to work near the house. Our warm, damp climate
and this sheltered position give rise to extraordinary luxuriance of growth.
A stream runs along the bottom, and I expect all
the low lying land where you see that belt of

(02:38):
yellow African grass is little better than a morass. Now,
Fremantle drew up as they gained the top of the slope.
From there they could overlook the tangle of vegetation, dimmed
by a rising mist, which surrounded and almost hid the
roof of the Gray House. Yes, said Freemantle, in answer
to an observation of mister low Monteson's guardian, who lived

(03:00):
here and looked after the property for him, turned the
place into a subtropical garden. It used to be one
of my chief pleasures to wander about here, but since
my marriage, my wife objects to my doing so on
account of the tales she has heard. What is the
danger death, replied Fremantle shortly. What form of death? Malaria?

(03:21):
No disease at all, my dear fellow. The persons who
die at the Gray House are hanged by the neck
until they are dead. Hanged, repeated Flaxman, low in surprise. Yes, hanged,
not only strangled, but suspended. As the marks on the
next show, if there were any hint of a ghost
in it, you might investigate. Monteson would be only too

(03:43):
grateful if you could fathom the mystery. Tell me something
more definite. I'll tell you what has happened in my
own knowledge. Monteson's father died some fifteen years ago and
left him to the guardianship of a cousin named Lampert, who,
as I told you, was a horticulturalist, and planted the
place with a wonderful variety of foreign shrubs and flowers.

(04:05):
Lampert had a bad name in the country, and his
appearance was certainly against him. A squint eyed, pig faced
fellow who sidled along like a crab and could not
look you in the face. He died first, Was he
hanged or did he hang himself? Neither? In this case,
he dropped in a kind of fit, right up in
front of the house while he was engaged in planting

(04:26):
some new acquisition. Had it not been for the evidence
of the persons who were present at the time, I
should have said his death resulted from some tremendous mental shock.
But the gardener and his relation, Missus Monteson, agreed in
saying that he was not exerting himself unduly and that
he had had no disturbing news. He was a healthy man,

(04:47):
and I could see no sufficient reason for his death.
He was simply gardening and had apparently pricked himself with
a nail, for he had a spot of blood upon
his forefinger. After that, all went well for a couple
of years, when during the summer holidays the trouble began.
Monteson must have been about sixteen at the time and
had a tutor with him. His mother and sister, a

(05:10):
pretty girl rather older than himself, were also here. One morning,
the girl was found lying on the gravel under her window,
quite dead. I was sent for and upon examination discovered
the extraordinary fact she had been hanged murder, of course,
though we could find no trace of the murderer. The

(05:30):
girl had been taken from her bedroom and hanged, then
the rope was removed and she was thrown in a
heap under her window. The crime caused a tremendous sensation
in the neighborhood, and the police were busy for a
long time, but nothing came of their inquiries. About a
fortnight later Platt, the tutor, sat up smoking at the
open study window. In the morning he was found lying

(05:52):
out over the sill. There could be no mistake as
to how he met his death, for in addition to
the deep line round his throat, his neck was broken
as neatly as they could have done it at Newgate.
As in the other case, there was nothing to show
how he came by his death, no rope, no trace
of footsteps, or any struggle to lead one to suspect
the presence of another person or persons. Yet from the

(06:15):
facts it could not have been suicide. I see you
had some suspicion of your own, said Flaxman. Low. Well,
yes I had, But time has passed and I now
think I must have been mistaken. I must explain that
the branches of the cedar you saw jut to within
a few feet of the windows of the rooms occupied

(06:36):
by Miss Monteson and Platt, respectively. At the time of death.
I told you there were no traces of anyone having
approached the house. It therefore struck me that some active
person might have leaped from the cedar into the open
windows and escaped in the same way. For the windows
open vertically and when both leaves are thrown back, there
is a large aperture. But the murders were so purposeless

(06:59):
and dis connected that they suggested irresponsible agency. I recollected
Poe's story of the Rue Morgue, where you remember the
crimes were committed by an orangutang. It seemed to me
possible that Lampert, who was of a morose and strange temper, might,
among other things, have secretly imported an ape and turned

(07:20):
it loose in the woods. I had a thorough search
made in the park and grounds, but we found nothing,
and I have long ago abandoned the theory. Low thought
silently over the story for some time. Then he asked
for the dates of the three deaths. Fremantle answered categorically,
and it appeared that all had taken place about the
same season of the year, during the summer. In fact,

(07:43):
upon this, mister Low made an offer to investigate the
affair on psychical lines, if Montesen made no objection. In
answer to this message, Montesen took the next train down
to Devon and begged to be allowed to accompany mister
Low in his inquiries. Flaxmen and Low quickly saw that
Montesen might prove a very useful companion. He was a blonde,

(08:05):
heavily built man, and plainly possessed of a strong will
and temper. Low put aside his books and went off
at once with Montesen to have a closer look at
the Gray House while the daylight lasted. It is difficult
to give any adequate impression of the teeming exuberance of
wild and tangled growth through which they had to cut
their way. Young lush, sappy leafage overlay and half disguised

(08:28):
the dank rottenness of the older vegetation beneath. After wading
more than breast high through the matted reeds below which
the spreading stream was fast reducing the land to a swamp,
they emerged into a fairly open space that had once
been the lawn round the house. Here brambles and lusty
weeds now grew abundantly under the untended trees. Curious shrubs

(08:50):
and plants flourished here and there As they came up
a stout sneaked away by a narrow footpath, nettle grown
and caked with damp, which led past blackened bushes around
the house. Otherwise the place was deserted. Not a leaf
seemed to move in the windless heat of the afternoon.
The squat gray face of the house was scarred across

(09:11):
by a dark leaved creeper hung with orchid like blossoms,
a little to the left of which Low noticed the
cedar mentioned by doctor Fremantle. Low drew up at the
weed twisted, sunken little gate that gave upon the lawns,
and spoke for the first time. Tell me about it,
and he nodded towards the house. Montesen repeated the story

(09:32):
already told, but added further details. From here, went on Monteson,
you can see the exact spot where all these things
took place. The upper of these two windows, surrounded by
the creeper, and under the shadow of the cedar, belonged
to my sister's room. The lower is that of the
study where Platt died. The gravel path below ran the

(09:53):
whole length of the house, but it is now overgrown.
Has Fremantle told you of Lawrence? Low shook his head.
I hate the very sight of the place, said Monteson hoarsely.
The mystery and the horror of it all seem in
my blood. I can't forget. My mother left on the
day of Platt's death, and has never been here since.

(10:14):
But when I came of age, I resolved to make
another attempt to live here, meaning to sift the past
if I got the chance of doing so. I had
the grounds cleared about the house, and after leaving Oxford,
came down with a man of my own year called Lawrence.
We spent the Easter vacation here reading and all went
right enough. Meanwhile, I had the house examined, thinking there

(10:36):
might be a secret entrance or room. But nothing of
the kind exists. This house is not haunted. Nothing has
ever been seen or heard of a supernatural character, nothing
but the same awful repetition of blind murder. After a
few seconds, he resumed. During the following summer, Lawrence came
down with me again one hot evening. We were smoking

(10:59):
as we walked up and down the gravel under the windows.
It was bright moonlight, and I remembered the heavy scent
of those red flowers. Monteson glanced round him strangely. I
went in to fetch a cigar. It took me some
minutes to find the box I wanted and to light
the cigar. When I came out, Lawrence lay crumpled up
as if he had fallen from a height and he

(11:20):
was dead round his neck was the same bluish line
I had seen in the other two cases. You can
understand what it was to leave the man not five
minutes before in health and strength, and to come back
and find him dead hanged, to judge from appearances, but
as usual, no trace of rope or struggle or murderer.

(11:40):
After some further talk, mister Low proposed to go into
the house. It had evidently been deserted in haste. In
the room once occupied by miss Monteson, her girlish treasures
still lay about, dusty, moth eaten and discolored. Montesen paused
on the threshold. Poor little fan, it's just as she
leftft it, he said hurriedly. The cedar outside threw a

(12:03):
gloomy shade into the room, and the fantastic red blossoms
drooped motionless in the stagnant air. Was the window open
when your sister was found, inquired Low, after he had
examined the room. Yes, it was hot weather early in August.
This room has not been occupied since after Platt's affair.
I have always avoided this side of the house, so

(12:25):
that it was only by chance Lawrence and I came
round to this part of the lawn to smoke. Then
we may suppose that the danger, whatever it is, exists
on this side of the house. Only so, it seems,
replied Montesen. Your sister was last seen alive in this room,
Plat in the room directly below, and your friend what

(12:46):
of him? Lawrence was lying on the gravel path just
under the study window. All of them have died under
the shadow of the cedar. Did Fremantle give you his idea?
Poor Lawrence? Is death disposed of that theory. No big
ape could live in England all those five years in
the open, and in any case, it must have been
seen sometime in the interval, I think so, replied Low abstractedly.

(13:11):
Now as to what we must do to try and
get at the meaning of all this? Do you feel
equal considering all that you have gone through in this house?
Do you feel equal to remaining here with me for
a night or two? Monteson again glanced over his shoulder nervously. Yes,
he said, I know my nerves are not as stiff
and steady as they should be, but I'll stand by you,

(13:33):
especially as you would not find another man about here
willing to run the risk you see it is not
a ghost or any fanciful trouble. It means a real danger.
Think over it, mister Low, before you undertake so hazardous
an attempt. Low looked into the blue eyes Montesen had
fixed upon him. They were weary, anxious eyes, and taken

(13:54):
in combination with his compressed lips and square chin. Told
Low of the struggle this man constantly and endured between
his shaken nervous system and the strong will that mastered it.
If you'll stand by me, I'll try to get to
the bottom of it, said Low. I wonder if I
should allow you to risk your life in this way,
returned Montesen, passing his hand over his prematurely lined forehead.

(14:18):
Why not, besides, it is my own wish. As for
risking our lives, it is for the good of mankind,
I can't say I see it in that light, said
Monteson in surprise. If we lose our lives, it will
be in the effort to make another spot of earth
clean and wholesome and safe for men to live on.
Our duty to the public requires us to run a

(14:39):
murderer to earth. Here we have a murderous power of
some subtle kind, Is it not quite as much our
duty to destroy it if we can, even at risk
to ourselves. The result of this conversation was an arrangement
to pass the night at Gray House. About ten o'clock
they set out, intending to follow the path they had
more or less successfully cleared for themselves in the afternoon

(15:02):
by flaxmen Low's advice. Montesen carried a long knife. The
night was unusually hot and still, and lit only by
a thin moon. As they made their way along, stumbling
over matted weeds and roots, and literally feeling for the path,
until they came to the little gate by the lawn.
There they stopped a moment to look at the house,

(15:23):
standing out among its strange sea of overgrowth, the dim
moon low on the horizon, glinting palely upon the windows
and over the deserted countryside. As they waited, a night
bird hooted and flapped its way across the open At
any moment they might be at hand grips with the
mysterious power of death which haunted the place. The warm,

(15:44):
lush scented air and the sinister shadows seemed charged with
some ominous influence. As they drew near the house, Low
perceived a sweet, heavy odor. What is it, he asked,
It comes from those scarlet flowers. It's unbearable. Lampard imported
the thing, replied Monteson irritably. Which room will you spend

(16:05):
the night in? Asked Lo. As they gained the hall,
Montesen hesitated. Have you ever heard the expression gray with fear?
He said, laughing in the dark. I'm that Low did
not like the laugh. It was only one remove, and
that a very little one from hysteria. We won't find
out much unless we each remain alone and with open windows,

(16:26):
as they did, said Low. Montesen shook himself. No, I
suppose not. They were each alone when good night. I'll
call if anything happens, and you must do the same
for me. For heaven's sake, don't go to sleep, and remember,
added Low, with your knife to cut at anything that
touches you. Then he stood at the study door and

(16:49):
listened to Montesen's heavy steps as they passed up the stairs,
for he had elected to pass the night in his
sister's room. Lo heard him walk across the floor above
and throw wide the window. When mister Low turned into
the study and tried to open the window. There, he
found it impossible to do so. The creeper outside had

(17:09):
fastened upon the woodwork, binding the sashes together. There was
but one thing left for him to do. He must
go outside and stand where Lawrence had stood on the
fatal night. He let himself out softly and went round
to the south side of the house. There he paced
up and down in the shadows for perhaps an hour.

(17:29):
In the deceptive iridescent moonlight. A pallid head seemed to
wag at him from the gloom below the ceed or,
but moving towards it, he grasped only the yellow, bunched
blossom of a giant ragwart. Then he stood still and
looked up into the branches above. The gnarled black branches
with their fringes of black sticky leaves. Fremantle's theory of

(17:52):
the ape passing stealthily among them to spring upon his
victims found a sudden horror of possibility in Lowe's mind.
He imagined the girl awaking in the brute's cruel hands.
Out upon the quiet brooding of the night, broke a scream,
or rather a roar, a harsh, jagged, pulsating roar that
ceased as abruptly as it had begun. Without a moment's consideration,

(18:16):
mister Low seized the branch nearest to him, and, swinging
himself up into the tree, he climbed with a frantic
effort toward the window of Monteson's room, from which he
was almost sure the sound had come. Being an unusually
active and athletic man, he leaped from the branch towards
the open window and fell headlong in upon the floor.

(18:38):
As he did so, something seemed to pass him, something
swift and sinuous that might have been a snake, and
disappear out the window. Remembering the candle on the toilet table,
he lit it. When he regained his feet and looked
about him. Montesen lay on the floor, crumpled up as
he had himself described Lawrence's position. Low recalled this with

(18:59):
misgiving as he heard hurried to his side. A dark
smear like blood was on Montesson's cheek, but though unconscious,
he was still alive. Low lifted him on to the
bed and did what he could to rouse him, but
without success. He lay rigid, breathing the slow, almost imperceptible
respiration of deep stupor. Low was about to go to

(19:20):
the window when the candle suddenly went out, and he
was left in the increasing darkness to all intents alone
to face an unknown, though tangible, assailant. Silence had again
fallen upon the house. That is, the silence of night,
and woodlands and many folded leafage, and the things that
go by night. He stood by the window and listened.

(19:42):
His senses were acute and throbbing. He felt as if
he could hear for miles. The scent of the scarlet
blossoms rose like deadening fumes into his brain, and he
drew away from the window, and, feeling strangely spent, threw
himself upon a couch. Then he drew out the knife
at his belt and strung himself up to watchfulness with
an effort. He knew that the attack he had to

(20:06):
expect would likely come from the direction of the window.
He saw the faint, swimming moonlight that fell through the
leaves and tendrils of the creeper fade slowly away. Probably
clouds were coming up over the sky, for the steamy
heat was even more oppressive. The low window sill was
scarcely more than a foot above the floor, and presently

(20:27):
he fancied something was moving along the carpet among the
entangling shadows of the leaves. But the darkness was now intensified,
and he could not be sure Montesen's breathing had become quieter.
It was the dead hour of the night. Hardly a
sound was to be heard. Suddenly Low felt a soft
touch upon his knee. His whole consciousness had been so

(20:50):
absorbed in the act of listening that this unexpected appeal
to another sense startled him here and there. Rapid, soft
and light, the touches passed over his body. It might
have been some animal nosing about him in the dark.
Then a smooth, cold touch fell upon his cheek. Low
sprang up and slashed about him in the darkness with

(21:12):
his knife. In that instant the thing closed with him,
a flexuous, snaky thing that flung its coils about his
limbs and body in one swift spring, like a curling whiplash.
Flexman Low was all but helpless in that winding grasp
of what the tentacles of some strange creature, or was

(21:32):
it some great snake, this sentient thing that was feeling
for his throat. There was not an instant to lose.
The knife was pressed against his body. With a violent effort,
he drew it sharply edge outwards against the tightening coils.
A spurt of clammy fluid fell upon his hand, and
the thing loosed and fell away from him into the

(21:53):
stifling gloom. In the morning, Montesen came to himself in
one of the lower rooms of the other side of
the house. Fremantle was beside him. What's the matter, he asked, Ah,
I remember, now there's Low. It has beaten us again, Fremantle,
it is hopeless. I don't know what happened. I was
not asleep when I found myself seized, lifted up, drawn

(22:17):
towards the window, and strangled by living ropes. Look at Low,
he went on, harshly, raising himself. Why man, you're all
over blood flaxman. Low glanced down at his hands. Looks
like it, he said. It has beaten even you. Low
went on, monison, there's something much more terrible and tangible

(22:37):
than a ghost in this cursed house. See here he
pulled down his collar. A faint, bluish circle with suffused
dots was drawn round his throat. It is some deadly
species of snake, exclaimed Fremantle. Low sat down astride a
chair thoughtfully. I am sorry to disagree with both of you,

(22:58):
but I am inclined to think it is no a snake.
And on the other hand, I fancy it has a
great deal to do with what we may roughly call
a ghost. The whole evidence points in only one direction.
You mustn't let your prejudice in favor of psychical problems
run away with your reason, said Fremantle dryly. Has a ghost,
actual palpable power to go further? Has it? Blood Montesen,

(23:23):
who had been looking at his neck and the glass
turned quickly. It's some horrible thing in nature, something between
a snake and an octopus. What do you say to it? Low?
Low looked up gravely in spite of Fremantle's objections. The
steps from beginning to end are very clear. Fremantle and
Montsen exchanged a glance of incredulity. My dear fellow, much

(23:46):
learning has warped your mind, said Freemantle, with an embarrassed laugh.
First of all, continued Low, we know where all the
deaths have occurred. To speak precisely, they have all occurred
in different places, interposed Fremantle. True, but within a strictly
limited area. The slight differences have been of material help

(24:06):
to me in all cases. They have occurred in the
vicinity of one thing, the cedar, cried Montesen with some excitement.
That was my first idea. Now I refer to the wall.
Will you tell me the probable weight of Lawrence and
Platt at the date of death. Platt was a small man,
perhaps under nine stone. Lawrence, though much taller, was thin

(24:30):
and could not have weighed more than eleven. As for
poor little Fan, she was only a slip of a girl.
Three people have been killed, one has escaped. In what
way do you differ from the others? Monteson asked Lowe.
If you mean I'm heavier, I certainly am. I scale
something like fifteen. But what has that to do with it? Everything?

(24:54):
The coils have evidently not sufficient compressive power to destroy
life by strangulation. Simply there must be suspension as well.
You were simply too heavy for them to tackle coils
of what of this? Low held up a tapering, reddish
brown tendon or line, which had red, curved triangular teeth

(25:14):
set on it at intervals. The two other men stared
at this object, and then Montesen burst out the creeper
on the wall, he said, in a tone of disappointment.
It couldn't be. Besides, has a plant blood. Let us
go and look at it, said Low, this creeper has
never been cut, because it withers away every winter to

(25:36):
the ground and grows again in the spring. Look here,
He took out his knife and cut a leathery shoot.
A crimson stain spurted out on his cuff. The only person,
as far as I can gather, who cut this plant
was mister Lampert in nailing it to the wall. He
died of shock when he saw the red stain on
his finger, as he knew something of its deadly properties.

(25:59):
But though stupefying, as your condition last night proved Monteson,
they are not fatal, even to stupefy. They must get
into the blood now. The deaths have all occurred within
reach of the tendrils of this plant, and all have
happened at the same season of the year, that is
to say, at the time when it attains its full
annual strength and growth. Another point in favor of Montesen's

(26:22):
escape was the dryness of the season. The growth is
not quite so good as usual this summer, is it. No?
The tendrils are thinner, a good deal thinner and smaller.
Just so, therefore your weight saved you. Though you were
stupefied by the punctures of the thorns. I feared that
and warned you to use your knife. But the brain

(26:43):
of the thing cried fremantle. Why man has a plant,
will and knowledge and malevolence, not of itself, as I believe,
answered Low. Perhaps you will prefer to attribute much to
the long arm of coincidence. But the explanation I can
offer is one that is long held by occultists in
other countries. Pythagoras and others have taught that the forms

(27:05):
of incarnation change as the soul raises their debases itself
during each spell of life. Connect this with the belief
of the Brahmans, and I may add of various African
tribes that an earth bound spirit, at the moment of
a premature or sudden death, may pass into plants or
trees of certain species by virtue of an inherent attraction

(27:26):
possessed by these plants. For such entities to go further,
it is said that these degraded souls have intervals during
which they have power of voluntary action to do good
or evil, and such action has influence on their future incarnations.
What do you mean, what do you intend us to
believe Montes had said and stopped? It is hard to

(27:48):
put it into words in these latter days of unbelief,
said low But the evidence goes to show that a man,
presumably not a good man, dies a sudden death near
this plant, even inoculated with its sap. Fremantle knows this
plant to be a Malayan creeper, belonging to a family
that possesses strange powers and properties. I may recall the

(28:11):
old story of the Upus tree, and more lately still
the murder tree discovered near Coalway in East Africa by
hare Bolts. There are also other instances. It is incredible,
said Fremantle, almost angrily. I don't ask you to believe it,
said Flaxman Low quietly. I only tell you such belief exists.

(28:32):
Monteson can do something towards proving my theory. Let him
have the plant destroyed and judge by results. The tendril
of the creeper severed by mister Lowe in his struggle
was presented by him to the authorities at Kew. Mister
Monteson has acted upon mister Flaxmanlow's suggestions. The gray House
is now occupied and safe, and it is a strange

(28:54):
fact that no plant, not even the hardy ivy, will
live where the red blossomed creeper once grew. End of
the Story of the Gray House.