Anon [ed.] - Strange Secrets Told by A. Conan Doyle & Others

[dem bones]

Strange Secrets: Told by A. Conan Doyle & Others (Forgotten Books, 2017: originally Chatto & Windus, 1889

F. Milford - The Secret of Swalecliffe Castle
F. Talbot - The Secret of the Mine
Gertrude Parsons - The Secret of Calverley Court
Hon. Mrs. Henry Clifford - The Secret of Cousin Geoffrey's Chamber
Arthur Conan Doyle - The Secret of Goresthorpe Grange
Florence Marryat - The Box with the Iron Clamps
James Grant - The Veiled Portrait
Walter Thornbury - The Ghost of Lawford Hall
James Grant - The Spectre Hand
Eleanor C. Price - A Coachful of Ghosts
Dutton Cook - George Venn and the Ghost
Percy Fitzgerald - The Mystery in Daffodil Terrace
Elwyn Keith - Why New Houses are Haunted
M. B. Archer - A Very Queer Inn

A print-out of the copy available on Archive.org, scribbled notes against the table of contents and all.

F. Milford - The Secret of Swalecliffe Castle: Narrator Francis Milford returns to Eversford from a five year American sojourn to find best pal Jemmy 'Tiger' King, a pariah among men, loathed by his peers for the brutal murder of a love rival. Milford spends a night as a guest of Sir John Parker at Swalecliffe Castle, which until very recently served as a prison. For reasons known only to himself, Sir John, who hates all mention of ghosts, allocates his guest the sole reputedly haunted room. When Milford is duly terrified by the horrible apparition of a hanged man, his host produces a painting of the very same tortured face. Eventually everything comes out in the wash. The miscarriage of justice is reversed, the culprits punished, the wronged party weds his sweetheart, etc.

F. Talbot - The Secret of the Mine; or, Up and Down Moel Vammer: The recently abandoned Dalcarvey gold mine in Llangarreg, and how it came to be that way. As with opening story, no lack of incident but to little purpose.

[dem bones]

Gertrude Parsons - The Secret of Calverley Court: "... now that the trouble was, where all troubles ought to be, in the hands of men, she had only to be still and wait." Why does father refuse to set foot in the castle that should rightfully be his, and why has his avoided the love of his life all these years? As we might have predicted, fall out from tortuously convoluted mystery sees estranged lovers reunited, rightful heir restored, family dark secret hushed up, dignity preserved, wedding bells on Christmas morn, bliss, niceness etc. Not even a hint of ghost to alleviate the dreariness. These Strange Secrets have not been all that exciting thus far, if I'm honest. Oh, and those are the author's italics.

Hon. Mrs. Henry Clifford - The Secret of Cousin Geoffrey's Chamber: "Well, this is a funny state of things!" The lovely Paganels of Ernscliff Castle are in dire financial straits. If only there were some truth in the family legend of the priest's hole and it's miser's horde, but alas, it is pure fantasy! It is New Year's Eve. As tradition dictates, the Paganels host a fabulous ball. our narrator, Kate Seaton, 17, concerned that her beloved Hugh's head has been turned by Miss Barnett, the sweet little heiress, stomps off in a sulk. When another guests takes a fright on mention of the Mistletoe Bough, Katie gleefully offers to exchange rooms with her, settles down for the night in chamber allegedly haunted by the family wrong 'un. What a jolly adventure - until our plucky heroine stumbles against a panel in the dark, and falls through an opening in the wall. Good fun.

As is;

Arthur Conan Doyle - The Secret of Goresthorpe Grange (London Society, December 1883 as Selecting a Ghost: The Ghosts of Goresthorpe Grange; Dreamland and Ghostland: Volume III, 1887). A traditionalist seeks resident ghost for his newly acquired country mansion. As revived by Peter Haining in Supernatural Sleuths.

[dem bones]

This is more like it — miserable as sin.

Florence Marryat - The Box with the Iron Clamps: (London Society, May-June 1868). "But why do you keep this? Why do you carry it about with you, Blanche? It is pure insanity on your part. How long is it since you have travelled in company with that dreadful box."

Among the Claytons' Christmas guests at Molten Manor (sometimes Grange) that year are Mrs Blanche Dalmer, and foppish bachelor, Herbert Laurence. Up until two years ago, these two were lovers, Colonel Dalmer being away in India for five years. Now Blanche, a haggard travesty of the beauty she was, avoids him to the point of hysteria. Perhaps that which lies within the black trunk she so jealously guards so jealously has some bearing on her behaviour? Christmas is properly ruined when Blanche has the appalling bad manners to die. Before doing so, she has the hostess promise to see the box discreetly buried beside her in the family vault. Under no circumstances must her dear, devoted husband learn of her infidelity.

James Grant - The Veiled Portrait: (London Society, Christmas 1874). Convalescing after suffering life-altering injuries during last year's Bengal mutiny, narrator is spending the month as a guest of an old army chum, Major Sydney Warren, at his fine Tudor manor house in Hertfordshire. Warren, who lost his wife and infant son in the massacre at Meerut, keeps a life-size portrait of a beautiful mystery woman concealed behind green baize. The late Constance, a girl he married on a whim, and treacherously abandoned to her fate when a more financially appealing catch was dangled before him. Would not be surprised to the learn the majority, if not all of these stories, first appeared in London Society Christmas numbers.

[helrunar]

Thanks for those notes, Dem. Those sound deliciously lurid.

How tiresome people are to be so rude as to die at one's weekend house party. It disrupts the seating arrangements for luncheon so. In my day this sort of thing simply was not done. Now ring for Merryman and have him take the awful thing away.

H.

[dem bones]

James Grant - The Spectre Hand: (London Society, Christmas 1871). When armies clash in a graveyard, Carl Holberg of the Danish Guard is knocked insensible by a German bullet. He is tended by the ghost of Thyra, whose newly dug grave has been trashed during the conflict. Overwhelmed, Carl pledges his life to girl. When he recovers consciousness, the ground around him is strewn with the corpses of the newly fallen. So Thyra was only a figment - but how to explain the emerald ring on his finger?
Holberg recovers and is set to to wed his fiancee (who, to be fair, he detests) until his ghost bride intervenes. Henceforth Thyra's spectral hand haunts him right up to his final Christmas Eve.

Walter Thornbury - The Ghost of Lawford Hall; A True Story: Has the ghost of a killer Cavalier stepped down from it's portrait and grabbed the first weapon at hand, or is there a 'rational' explanation for the ghastly apparition in yellow dressing gown worrying over sleeping Mr. H ——— with a bread knife?

[dem bones]

E. C. Price - A Coachful of Ghosts: (Dreamland and Ghostland: Volume II, 1887). "Ah, now comes the frightful part of the dream! The people in the coach — they were not you — it was full of GHOSTS — strange luminous forms, through which I saw their skeletons. Heavens! What a terrible sight!" The Marquis de Grou and entourage plan their flight to the countryside despite the patriot, M. de Maury's warning that it will be the worse for all should they fall into the clutches of the rabble. The smug Aristocrat's, as ever, think they know best. Citizen de Maury has an ulterior motive in helping the family. He is in love with the fair Lenore and pledged to spare her the bloodthirsty vengeance of mob. Just the overwrought melodrama I'd hope from this collection. A must for our 20 Golden Guillotine Greats.

[dem bones]

Dutton Cook - George Venn and the Ghost: Venn's laboured account of his dealings with the terrifying 'ghost' haunting his studio, a wizened old man in shabby greatcoat and scarf. happy to pose for him and share a pipe. A 'Thigh-slapping Victorian humour' alert should be warning enough.

Elwyn Keith - Why New Houses are Haunted: (London Society, Christmas 1886: Dreamland and Ghostland: Volume III, 1887). "No one ever came out of this room alive after a night spent in it - and no one ever will. " Mr. Brace, "Master of Maidens." relates his experience in a phenomenally haunted house - phantom songstress on the terrace, dog-throttling disembodied hands in the Red Room, etc. His biggest mistake was having the place demolished as builders incorporated the bricks in several new properties - and the ghost's travelled with them.

[helrunar]

"Mr Brace, Master of Maidens" sounds like the title of a Victorian Harlequin Romance.

H.

[dem bones]

Apr 23, 2021 21:31:47 GMT helrunar said:

"Mr Brace, Master of Maidens" sounds like the title of a Victorian Harlequin Romance.

H.

He's quite the card, as it turns out. This is quite the most uneven selection I've read in quite some months, all peaks, trough's, and wild mood swings. After a tentative start, am really enjoying it, even the truly rotten efforts like George Venn, though I'll not be revisiting it any lifetime soon.

Percy Fitzgerald - The Mystery in Daffodil Terrace: "We shall all be very happy together yet, bright days are in store for us" ... That sweet-sounding but delusive anthem has been sung over and over again." The house at number five is the latest 'must visit' for local ghouls on account of a suicide. In a moment of sheer panic, Mrs. Joy stole from Mr. Hengist, her eccentric prospective son-in-law to settle with bailiffs and save her family from destitution and disgrace. A serving girl got the blame. Just as everyone's troubles (bar the expendable servant's) seemed over, Mrs. Joy's conscience caught up with her. Can't work out if this is Victorian misery porn, or a piss take of Victorian misery porn. Either way, it's miserable.

*After reading this, had a catnap on the couch. Dreamt of a young Asian girl stood on a desk applying a rope around her neck while Peter Hammill howled his way through In The End on a sound system. "I love this one," she explained.*

[dem bones]

M. B. Archer - A Very Queer Inn: A lonely country village hostelry near Baytown, two miles from Ditchley Pond. The traveller seeks a room for the stormy night, but first has to master the eccentricities of his hosts, namely Thomas Fenn, insanely jolly landlord, and his indomitable wife; Simon aka 'The Wriggler,' a nervous wreck of a waiter who reminds narrator of a caterpillar; and George, an ostler desperate to find a goat before the mistress realises it's missing. A rum bunch for sure, the landlord apparently fixated with keeping the guest from a room in the loft. Other than the Fenn's little girl, Lucy, whom he has yet to meet, that seems to be everyone in the immediate vicinity accounted for, so why the reluctance to offer him shelter? This story is typical of many in Strange Secrets. Long-winded, not the least engaging, suddenly and very unexpectedly picks up just when I'd given up on it. And the melancholy final reveal is indeed haunting.