THE APPARITION OF MRS. VEAL
INTRODUCTION
THE
FASCINATION OF THE GHOST STORYArthur
B. ReeveWhat
is the fascination we feel for the mystery of the ghost story?Is
it of the same nature as the fascination which we feel for the
mystery of the detective story?Of
the latter fascination, the late Paul Armstrong used to say that it
was because we are all as full of crime as Sing Sing—only we don't
dare.Thus,
may I ask, are we not fascinated by the ghost story because, no
matter what may be the scientific or skeptical bent of our minds, in
our inmost souls, secretly perhaps, we are as full of superstition as
an obeah man—only we don't let it loose?Who
shall say that he is able to fling off lightly the inheritance of
countless ages of superstition? Is there not a streak of superstition
in us all? We laugh at the voodoo worshiper—then create our own
hoodooes, our pet obsessions.It
has been said that man is incurably religious, that if all religions
were blotted out, man would create a new religion.Man
is incurably fascinated by the mysterious. If all the ghost stories
of the ages were blotted out, man would invent new ones.For,
do we not all stand in awe of that which we cannot explain, of that
which, if it be not in our own experience, is certainly recorded in
the experience of others, of that of which we know and can know
nothing?Skeptical
though one may be of the occult, he must needs be interested in
things that others believe to be objective—that certainly are
subjectively very real to them.The
ghost story is not born of science, nor even of super-science,
whatever that may be. It is not of science at all. It is of another
sphere, despite all that the psychic researchers have tried to
demonstrate.There
are in life two sorts of people who, for want of a better
classification, I may call the psychic and the non-psychic. If I ask
the psychic to close his eyes and I say to him, "Horse," he
immediately visualizes a horse. The other, non-psychic, does not. I
rather incline to believe that it is the former class who see ghosts,
or rather some of them. The latter do not—though they share
interest in them.The
artists are of the visualizing class and, in our more modern times,
it is the psychic who think in motion pictures, or at least in a
succession of still pictures.However
we explain the ghostly and supernatural, whether we give it objective
or merely subjective reality, neither explanation prevents the
non-psychic from being intensely interested in the visions of the
psychic.Thus
I am convinced that if we were all quite honest with ourselves,
whether we believe in or do not believe in ghosts, at least we are
all deeply interested in them. There is in this interest something
that makes all the world akin.Who
does not feel a suppressed start at the creaking of furniture in the
dark of night? Who has not felt a shiver of goose flesh, controlled
only by an effort of will? Who, in the dark, has not had the feeling
of some thing
behind him—and, in spite of his conscious reasoning, turned to
look?If
there be any who has not, it may be that to him ghost stories have no
fascination. Let him at least, however, be honest.To
every human being mystery appeals, be it that of the crime cases on
which a large part of yellow journalism is founded, or be it in the
cases of Dupin, of Le Coq, of Sherlock Holmes, of Arsene Lupin, of
Craig Kennedy, or a host of others of our fiction mystery characters.
The appeal is in the mystery.The
detective's case is solved at the end, however. But even at the end
of a ghost story, the underlying mystery remains. In the ghost story,
we have the very quintessence of mystery.Authors,
publishers, editors, dramatists, writers of motion pictures tell us
that never before has there been such an intense and wide interest in
mystery stories as there is to-day. That in itself explains the
interest in the super-mystery story of the ghost and ghostly doings.Another
element of mystery lies in such stories. Deeper and further back, is
the supreme mystery of life—after death—what?"Impossible,"
scorns the non-psychic as he listens to some ghost story.To
which, doggedly replies the mind of the opposite type, "Not so.
I believe because
it is impossible."The
uncanny, the unhealthy—as in the master of such writing,
Poe—fascinates. Whether we will or no, the imp of the perverse
lures us on.That
is why we read with enthralled interest these excursions into the
eerie unknown, perhaps reading on till the mystic hour of midnight
increases the creepy pleasure.One
might write a volume of analysis and appreciation of this aptly
balanced anthology of ghost stories assembled here after years of
reading and study by Mr. J.L. French.Foremost
among the impressions that a casual reader will derive is the
interesting fact, just as in detective mystery stories, so in ghost
stories, styles change. Each age, each period has the ghost story
peculiar to itself. To-day, there is a new style of ghost story
gradually evolving.Once
stories were of fairies, fays, trolls, the "little people,"
of poltergiest and loup garou. Through various ages we have
progressed to the ghost story of the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries until to-day, in the twentieth, we are seeing a modern
style, which the new science is modifying materially.High
among the stories in this volume, one must recognize the masterful
art of Algernon Blackwood's "The Woman's Ghost Story.""I
was interested in psychic things," says the woman as she starts
to tell her story simply, with a sweep toward the climax that has the
ring of the truth of fiction. Here perhaps we have the modern style
of ghost story at its best.Times
change as well as styles. "The Man Who Went Too Far" is of
intense interest as an attempt to bring into our own times an
interpretation of the symbolism underlying Greek mythology, applied
to England of some years ago.To
see Pan meant death. Hence in this story there is a philosophy of
Pan-theism—no "me," no "you," no "it."
It is a mystical story, with a storm scene in which is painted a
picture that reminds one strongly of "The Fall of the House of
Ushur,"—with the frankly added words, "On him were marks
of hoofs of a monstrous goat that had leaped on him,"—uncompromising
mysticism.Happy
is the Kipling selection, "The Phantom 'Rickshaw," if only
for that obiter dictum of ghost-presence as Kipling explains about
the rift in the brain: "—and a little bit of the Dark World
came through and pressed him to death!"Then
there are the racial styles in ghost stories. The volume takes us
from the "Banshees and Other Death Warnings" of Ireland to
a strange example of Jewish mysticism in "The Silent Woman."
Mr. French has been very wide in his choice, giving us these as well
as many examples from the literature of England and France. Finally,
he has compiled from the newspapers, as typically American, many
ghost stories of New York and other parts of the country.Strange
that one should find humor in a subject so weird. Yet we find it.
Take, for instance, De Foe's old narrative, "The Apparition of
Mrs. Veal." It is a hoax, nothing more. Of our own times is
Ellis Parker Butler's "Dey Ain't No Ghosts," showing an
example of the modern Negro's racial heritage.In
our literature and on the stage, the very idea of a Darky and a
graveyard is mirth-provoking. Mr. Butler extracts some pithy
philosophy from his Darky boy: "I ain't skeered ob ghosts whut
am, c'ase dey ain't no ghosts, but I jes' feel kinder oneasy 'bout de
ghosts whut ain't!"Humor
is succeeded by pathos. In "The Interval" we find a
sympathetic twist to the ghost story—an actual desire to meet the
dead.It
is not, however, to be compared for interest to the story of sheer
terror, as in Bulwer-Lytton's "The Haunted and the Haunters,"
with the flight of the servant in terror, the cowering of the dog
against the wall, the death of the dog, its neck actually broken by
the terror, and all that go to make an experience in a haunted house
what it should be.Thus,
at last, we come to two of the stories that attempt to give a
scientific explanation, another phase of the modern style of ghost
story.One
of these, perhaps hardly modern as far as mere years are concerned,
is this same story of Bulwer, "The Haunted and the Haunters."
Besides being a rattling good old-fashioned tale of horror, it
attempts a new-fashioned scientific explanation. It is enough to read
and re-read it.It
is, however, the lamented Ambrose Bierce who has gone furthest in the
science and the philosophy of the matter, and in a very short story,
too, splendidly titled "The Damned Thing.""Incredible!"
exclaims the coroner at the inquest."That
is nothing to you, sir," replies the newspaper man who relates
the experience, and in these words expresses the true feeling about
ghostly fiction, "that is nothing to you, if I also swear that
it is true!"But
furthest of all in his scientific explanation—not scientifically
explaining away, but in explaining the way—goes Bierce as he
outlines a theory. From the diary of the murdered man he picks out
the following which we may treasure as a gem:"I
am not mad. There are colors that we cannot see. And—God help
me!—the Damned Thing is of such a color!"This
fascination of the ghost story—have I made it clear?As
I write, nearing midnight, the bookcase behind me cracks. I start and
turn. Nothing. There is a creak of a board in the hallway.I
know it is the cool night wind—the uneven contraction of materials
expanded in the heat of the day.Yet—do
I go into the darkness outside otherwise than alert?It
is this evolution of our sense of ghost terror—ages of it—that
fascinates us.Can
we, with a few generations of modernism behind us, throw it off with
all our science? And, if we did, should we not then succeed only in
abolishing the old-fashioned ghost story and creating a new,
scientific ghost story?Scientific?
Yes. But more,—something that has existed since the beginnings of
intelligence in the human race.Perhaps,
you critic, you say that the true ghost story originated in the age
of shadowy candle light and pine knot with their grotesqueries on the
walls and in the unpenetrated darkness, that the electric bulb and
the radiator have dispelled that very thing on which, for ages, the
ghost story has been built.What?
No ghost stories? Would you take away our supernatural fiction by
your paltry scientific explanation?Still
will we gather about the story teller—then lie awake o' nights,
seeing mocking figures, arms akimbo, defying all your science to
crush the ghost story.
THE APPARITION OF MRS. VEAL
By
Daniel De FoeTHE
PREFACEThis
relation is matter of fact, and attended with such circumstances, as
may induce any reasonable man to believe it. It was sent by a
gentleman, a justice of peace, at Maidstone, in Kent, and a very
intelligent person, to his friend in London, as it is here worded;
which discourse is attested by a very sober and understanding
gentlewoman, a kinswoman of the said gentleman's, who lives in
Canterbury, within a few doors of the house in which the within-named
Mrs. Bargrave lives; who believes his kinswoman to be of so
discerning a spirit, as not to be put upon by any fallacy; and who
positively assured him that the whole matter, as it is related and
laid down, is really true; and what she herself had in the same
words, as near as may be, from Mrs. Bargrave's own mouth, who, she
knows, had no reason to invent and publish such a story, or any
design to forge and tell a lie, being a woman of much honesty and
virtue, and her whole life a course, as it were, of piety. The use
which we ought to make of it, is to consider, that there is a life to
come after this, and a just God, who will retribute to every one
according to the deeds done in the body; and therefore to reflect
upon our past course of life we have led in the world; that our time
is short and uncertain; and that if we would escape the punishment of
the ungodly, and receive the reward of the righteous, which is the
laying hold of eternal life, we ought, for the time to come, to
return to God by a speedy repentance, ceasing to do evil, and
learning to do well: to seek after God early, if happily He may be
found of us, and lead such lives for the future, as may be well
pleasing in His sight.