9) “The Haunted and the Haunters” by Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Plot:
The unnamed narrator of this story is happy to hear of a haunted house in London that no one seems to be able to spend more than a night or two in. A friend of his recounts how he and his wife booked rooms for a week, but neither could stay in the place after the third night. His friend is vague about exactly what bothered him. He spoke only of “an undefinable terror… whenever we passed by the door of a certain unfurnished room.”
Our hero takes his servant F— and his dog (oh, just put a red shirt on the poor wee beastie!) and engages the house.
The owner, Mr. J—, who has recently returned from service abroad and inherited the house, warns him that no one, not even he, is comfortable in it. Most people flee in terror after a single night. Later, they cannot say what terrified them. No two parties tell the same story. The narrator and his servant can’t say no one warned them.
The dog has more sense than either of the humans and begs to be let out the front door the moment the company crosses the threshold. They talk him into staying. As soon as the humans settle in for the evening, chairs start moving of their own accord, just like they’re not supposed to.
His servant runs past him in terror, begging him to flee. The front door slams shut, and our hero is alone.
Thoughts:
This may sound like slapstick, but it is in deadly earnest. It reflects the mid-19th-century interest in spiritualism, as well as ancient beliefs in hauntings by evil and wronged people. But it also blathers on about “scientific” notions of the true nature of spirits. They are not supernatural per se, but are human in origin and should therefore be something one can deal with.
Our hero finds letters that hint at dark things, without giving too many details. Later, the candles dim—along with the fire in the fireplace—someone takes the letters, and he witnesses a series of violent and tragic vignettes play out almost as if he were in a theater. He is powerless, but he refuses to give in to fear.
The author goes on—and on— in places. When trying to account for things like furniture moving on its own, he reasons that there must be a human—a medium, perhaps—behind the phenomena, similar to the way people influence others through mesmerism. The human would have extraordinary capabilities, but he would be a human, not a supernatural entity. This is philosophy, not superstition.
Many things are involved. As a good old-fashioned Victorian novel that wants to rise above all that medieval nonsense and still play with the occult, this tale might strike the modern reader as a bit much. When I first read it as a kid and again some years ago, I didn’t care for it. I admit, it takes some effort to work through, but it’s not irredeemable. It is, however, quite sad.
This story can be read here:
This story can be listened to here:
Bio: Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873) was an English politician and popular English author and writer in his day. Among his books are Pelham, The Last Days of Pompeii, and Godolphin. He contributed many common phrases to everyday speech: “The pen is mightier than the sword” and “the great unwashed.” His greatest contribution (ask Snoopy) is perhaps the opening to his 1830 novel, Paul Clifford: “It was a dark and stormy night.”
Title: “The Haunted and the Haunters; or, the House and the Brain”
Author: Lord Edward Bulwer-Lytton (legal name: Sir Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton) (1803-1873)
First published: Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, August 1859
Length: novelette
