Edition created by Anonymous MIT student
Table of contents
(Move to WordPress title box:) The Night Watch
Edition created by Anonymous MIT student
Introduction
Editor’s Note/Motivation
I am an avid reader of cosmic horror and supernatural fiction, especially the works of H.P. Lovecraft. Originally I thought I would use this project to find one of his stories that had gone out of print but I soon realized that his writing in cosmic horror was all too recent for this project. This realization encouraged me to explore the stories and genres that inspired his work and expand my understanding of the context that went into his writing. I wanted to know more about the history of the genre and the influences that guided his vision and literary style. In his essay on supernatural fiction, Lovecraft credits Edgar Allen Poe as a guiding influence saying, “to him we owe the modern horror-story in its final and perfected state” (Lovecraft). Thus, it seemed only natural to begin my search for a story with Poe.
Poe was editor of Graham’s Magazine for a while and published several of his short stories there, including “The Mask of the Red Death” (The Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore). Considering that this was one of the stories specifically called out in Lovecraft’s essay as a formative influence on cosmic horror, I realized that Graham’s Magazine would be an excellent source for finding an out-of-print story that exemplifies the same kind of historical connection to Lovecraft’s work (Lovecraft).
The story “The Night Watch” was originally published in Graham’s Magazine Volume 30 Issue 1, in January of 1847. The story has no listed author and is a short tale recounting the events of four people holding a night vigil for a deceased neighbor and the fantastical events that then occur.
I see this short story as an important glimpse into the history of the literary genres that inspired H.P. Lovecraft. My hope is that republishing and sharing insight into this story will help give others a deeper appreciation for these genres and their rich literary history.
Historical Note on Funerary Traditions
Prior to modern funeral practices, services and burials where carried out from the home and relied on family and neighbors (Bael). The tradition of holding a night vigil with the deceased’s body served many purposes. The English/American tradition originated with Celtic pagan traditions and was originally seen as a way to ward off evil spirits and vermin from the body. (The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica)
Shakespeare References
This story is interspersed with select lines from the works of Shakespeare. This holds some interest because the way in which these references are used implies that the author expected their readers to be able to make a connection between these lines from Shakespeare and the moments the appear within the story.
“News, fitted to the night. Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.” (King John 5.6.2000-2001)
In this scene of the play, the news being relayed is that the kind has been poisoned and killed. This reference is a fitting opening because the very first bit of information the reader get’s about the story is that someone has died. The reference sets the tone and expectation for the opening if you are familiar with the context.
“’Tis now the very witching time of night, When church-yards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to the world,” (Hamlet 3.2.2264-2266)
In this scene Hamlet implies that the depth of night is suited to acts that would be unthinkable during the day. This connects to how during the night watch, the man rising from his death bed seems like it could be the work of the supernatural. During the day the more reasonable explanation seems obvious.
“Aurora’s harbinger,
At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.” (A Midsummer Night’s Dream 3.2.1437-1441)
In this scene of the play all the supernatural beings are returning to their resting places to flee the light. This makes for a fitting reference as dawn has broken in the story and all the supernatural occurrences are revealed to be naught.
Glossary of unfamiliar terms
Erin stems from the Irish word “Éirinn” which means Ireland, so when the story refers to a Son of Erin it is refereeing to someone of Irish heritage.
Transcribers Note
The original spellings, punctations, and errors were maintained from the original publication.
“The Night Watch”
A Tale
News, fitted to the night.
Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.
King John.
On a cold December night, in the winter of 183-, four persons were assembled in an upper chamber of an old out-house in one of the crooked streets at the “North End” of Boston. This was in former times the most fashionable part, the court end, as it were, of the town, and the house of which I speak had been the residence of one of the old colonial governors, and bore traces of its former magnificence, now almost effaced by the ravages of time and neglect.
It was a dark and tempestuous night. The wind howled mournfully through the narrow streets and around the tall houses of the “North End,” and the few passengers who were abroad wrapped their garments tighter about them, and hurried to seek shelter from the cutting blast. Within doors the aspect of things was more cheerful. An old-fashioned wood fire burned brightly on the hearth; the heavy folds of the crimson curtains excluded every breath of cold air, and the usual conveniences of comfort and luxury were distributed through the apartment. The company, consisting of myself and three female friends, were drawn closely up to the cheerful blaze, apparently as comfortable as possible. The cause of our meeting here was this. A neighbor, one Mr. Helger, had died very suddenly the day before. He had formerly been engaged largely in trade, but meeting with reverses which soured his disposition, and cast a shade of gloom over his character, he had withdrawn entirely from the world, and lived all alone by himself in this large house. We, being neighbors, had offered our services to watch with the corpse, as was the custom. The room in which we were had been the apartment of the deceased, and was fitted up with much taste, and even luxury, but all the rest of the house was bare and unfurnished, and was said by the neighbors to be haunted. The corpse was placed in a room just across the entry, so that we could hear a noise or disturbance if there should be any. Refreshments had been provided, and we had nothing to do but to make ourselves comfortable, and amuse ourselves until morning should release us from our duty.
The time flew by very quickly in pleasant chat, and when, during a lull of the storm, we heard the neighboring clock on the steeple of the North church strike the hour of twelve, we were all surprised at the lateness of the hour.
“’Tis now the very witching time of night,
When church-yards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to the world,”
said I; “can’t some of you ladies tell a genuine, old-fashioned, terrific ghost-story for our edification? Surely, Mrs. Johnstone, you must know one; you always have plenty of interesting stories.”
The lady addressed thought a moment in silence, and then replied, “I can tell you a ghost-story, and what is more, vouch for its reality, for the incident happened to myself. It was a good many years ago, but it is as distinctly imprinted on my memory as if it took place yesterday.” A ghost-story, told by one of the actors in it, could not fail to be interesting; so we drew our chairs nearer the fire, assumed a listening attitude, and the lady began.
“You must know, in the first place, that I was married at a very early age, and a year or two after, left my native place, and went with my husband to live in the interior of Vermont. The country was little settled at that time, being mostly covered with unbroken forests. I felt the change of situation very strongly. I had lived all my life in the midst of a large city, surrounded by a numerous family of brothers and sisters. We had gone into society a good deal, and had been in the habit of seeing many people, and engaging in all the amusements of the day. My present residence was in the midst of dense forests, the next neighbor lived two miles off, and the nearest town was on the Connecticut, more than ten miles from our farm. The house stood on one corner of the clearing, not more than a hundred yards from the woods, through which, on stormy nights, the winds howled in mournful and sad tones. In winter the deep snows cut off all communication with the other parts of the country, and sometimes we did not see a stranger for months. To this lonely spot I had removed, after having always been accustomed to the noise and bustle of a city, and it was not strange that it should seem gloomy to me.
“One day in autumn, in the month of November I think it was, my husband told me that he was going to take his men and go over to the next town for some necessary articles, and he was afraid that he should not be able to get home that night. So away he went, and left me alone in the house, with the exception of my infant child. I had brought a black woman with me from home, but the change of situation did not agree with her. She had been taken ill, and had died about a fortnight before the time of which I speak. On account of the difficulty of procuring servants, I had not been able to get another woman to supply her place, so I was entirely alone.
“After supper I sat by the kitchen fire some time, till at last I dropped asleep in my chair. I was awakened by the shrill sound of the tall, old-fashioned clock, striking the hour of ten. The candle had burned low in its socket, and the expiring embers diffused a faint glow through the room. I jumped up, rubbed my eyes, and prepared to go to bed. I took the light and was leaving the room, when somebody knocked at the outside door of the house. I was a little startled that any one should knock at the door at that time of night, but presently I thought that my husband had changed his mind and returned home after all. I went and opened the door, but nobody was there. I shut the door, rather surprised, and sat down by the fire.
“To understand my story clearly, you must know the arrangement of the room in which I was. On one side was the door leading into the open air, on the opposite side, the doors leading to the parlors, etc. On the third side of the room was the fireplace, and on the fourth, the door of a bed-room in which black Charlotte had slept, and where, as I have said, she died a fortnight before. This door was a little way open. I went and shut it, and had hardly done so, when the knocking was repeated with startling distinctness, and a moment after I saw the door of the bed-room slowly open, and remain ajar. I went again to the door and looked out, but, as before, I could see no one. I then shut the door of the bed-room and latched it fast. I began to feel frightened, for I could find no one who could have knocked at the door, nor could I account for the mysterious opening of the bed-room door. All the stories of ghosts and witches that I had ever heard came into my head, and hundreds of imaginary horrors beside. I made up my mind, however, that if I should hear the knocking again, I would go into the bed-room and see if any thing was there. I listened. All was quiet, and I could hear nothing but the beating of my own heart. A third time the knocking was repeated, slowly and distinctly, and a third time the haunted door slowly opened. I seized the candle and rushed in. I looked every where, but nothing was to be seen. I came out, shut the door behind me, and then went out into the open air. No one was in sight. There was a storm coming up, and the wind howled mournfully through the branches of the tall trees. To my excited fancy every thing looked strangely and differently from its usual appearance. By the dim light of the waning moon, which was half obscured by the driving clouds that shrouded her disk, I fancied I saw something moving in the deep shadow of the trees. I shuddered and closed the door. I went up stairs and looked at my child. He lay calmly sleeping in his cradle, and his deep breathing was the only sound that disturbed the stillness of the house. I felt more assured after looking at the innocent face of the little boy. I felt that even if God should permit an evil spirit to work its will for a time, he would never allow it to harm a thing so holy and innocent as that little child. I endeavored to calm my mind by the reflection that I had always treated the dead woman with kindness, and if it was really her ghost that was haunting the house, it would have no reason to injure me. But my heart grew sick within me when I heard again—‘Knock! knock! knock!’ and saw the door of the haunted room slowly open as before.”
Here Mrs. Johnstone stopped talking, and listened intently, as if she was trying to catch some distant sound.
“I certainly heard it,” at length she said. “I hear it now—I certainly hear a noise as of some one moving in the death-chamber. Let us go in and see if any thing is there.”
So saying she arose, took a candle in her hand, and went across the entry to the neighboring apartment. Presently she shrieked and ran back into the room where we were, with her face as pale as death, and said, in a very excited tone—
“Oh! such a sight as I have seen! The corpse sat upright in his coffin, and seemed as if trying to speak to me.”
“You want to frighten us, Mrs. Johnstone,” said I. “First you tell an awful story about a mysterious knocking, and then, to increase the effect, you come in and tell us this. I am sorry to say that I don’t believe a word of it.”
“It is no time for jesting now, young man,” rejoined she. “God forbid that I should sport with such an awful thing as death. But as true as I hope for salvation I saw Mr. Helger sitting erect in his coffin, and such a look as he gave me—it will haunt me till my dying day. But, if you don’t believe me, go and look for yourself.”
I hastily seized a candle, and went to the room where the corpse was laid. The rest of the company followed at a little distance. Just as I approached the door I thought I heard a step in the inside of the room, as of one coming to meet me. I said nothing, however, and took hold of the door-handle to open the door—but to my horror it was grasped on the inside and violently turned. I seized the door and held it to with all my strength, while it was pulled strongly against me by whatever infernal shape was in the room. The women screamed dreadfully and dropped the lights, which went out, leaving us only the dim light from the fire in the opposite room. The storm without howled round the old house with redoubled fury. It was a fearful scene. I felt faint and sick—my strength gave way—I let go the door. Mr. Helger, in his grave-clothes, stood in the door-way, deathly pale, his face streaming with blood, and his features distorted by a ghastly grin. We turned and ran frantically down stairs, tumbling over each other in our haste.
Just as we were running out of the house we heard Mr. Helger behind us. We ran up the street all the faster, the women screaming at the top of their voices. The noise and hubbub at last woke up a watchman, who had been peaceably slumbering in a sheltered corner. That functionary, wrathful at being disturbed from his nap, arrested our farther progress with his hook.
“An’ what the divil wud yees be doin’ wid yerselves here, the night?” inquired he, in a decided brogue.
This pertinent question brought me to my senses. I pulled some money from my pocket, and told the son of Erin to come back with us and he should be well paid for his services. We went back toward the house, and there, near the door, we found Mr. Helger, lying exhausted and fainting on the ground.
We raised him up and carried him back into the house, and put him into bed; and then I despatched Pat for a physician. He soon returned, bringing one whom he had roused from his slumbers. The physician took out his lancet and bled the patient, and, having administered the usual remedies, I had the satisfaction of hearing him say that he thought it probable in a few days Mr. Helger would recover, and be as well as ever. He advised us to remain with him, however, that night, and give him hot drinks from time to time. I paid the physician and the watchman for their trouble and dismissed them.
It was understood that Mr. Helger’s death had been very sudden, and it turned out that instead of really dying, he had only fallen into a deep trance, and on arousing from it had frightened us so dreadfully. We were all put in excellent spirits by this happy termination of our adventure—this restoration of the dead to life.
“Supposing you let us hear the rest of your ghost story now, Mrs. Johnstone,” said one of the ladies—“if that awful interruption hasn’t taken away all your desire to finish it.”
“Oh, no,” replied Mrs. Johnstone, “I will tell you the rest with much pleasure—perhaps it may turn out as well as our present adventure has.
“I believe I left off where the knocking was again repeated at the door. Well—the mysterious door again opened, but nobody was there. I felt desperate. I felt that my reason would give way if I should remain quiet any longer without doing something, and I determined that, if the knocking was repeated, I would take my child in my arms and run round the house, and see if any thing was there which could have produced these unaccountable sounds. I waited patiently till the knocking was repeated, and then went out of doors and ran round the house. The mystery was solved.
“The sheep had come down from the woods, through fear of bears, and were collected in a crowd behind the house. I stood looking at them, and presently one raised his fore-leg and knocked against the house. It is done with the bent joint of the fore-leg, and those who are acquainted with the habits of sheep know that it produces a sound exactly like the knocking of a human being at a door. I went back into the house, and in a few moments I heard the sheep knock, and saw the door open a moment afterward. The house, built in a hurry, as is usual in a newly settled country, had not been clap-boarded, so that the jarring of the knock was easily communicated to the bed-room door, and the latch being worn, it opened a little way by its own weight, and then remained fixed.
“Thus was the mystery cleared up, and you may conceive what a load was taken off of my heart. I went to bed and slept soundly till morning, when the glorious sun with his cheerful beams effectually dispelled all the phantoms and terrors of the preceding night.
“Next day my husband returned home, and I related to him all the circumstances of my fright. He praised me for the courage I had shown in going out to investigate the cause of the sounds, and said that he thought that few men would have been as brave as I was. And sure enough, on the very next night, my husband and I were sitting in the parlor, when suddenly the man-servant, a great strapping fellow, came running in, as white as a sheet, and cried out,
“ ‘Oh, Lord! we’re haunted! we’re haunted! Charlotte’s ghost has come to haunt us!’
“ ‘What do you mean, you foolish fellow?’ said my husband, ‘go back into the kitchen, and don’t let me hear any more such nonsense.’
“He went back again, somewhat abashed, but soon returned, almost frightened to death.
“ ‘I wouldn’t go back into that room again if you’d give me fifty dollars,’ said he; ‘it’s haunted. There was a dreadful knocking, but nobody was at the door, and then I saw Charlotte’s ghost open the door of the bed-room. Oh, Lord! what will become of us! what will become of us!’
“My husband took pity on him, seeing that he was so much alarmed, and showed him the cause of the phenomena. He was very much ashamed of his fright, and we heard no more of Charlotte’s ghost after that.”
Here Mrs. Johnstone finished her story, which we all declared was an excellent one, and praised not a little the courage she had shown. By this time the morning had dawned;
“Aurora’s harbinger,
At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.”
Interpretive Essay
Attempting to classify this story perplexed me at first. Reading stories by Lovecraft has conditioned me to a certain emotional experience from reading horror. I expect a sort of slow building and lingering dread that follows long after the conclusion of the tale. That is very much not the experience of “The Night Watch.” To understand this difference in reading experience, it is important to examine exactly how we are reading the story. In her essay on re-reading, Bronstein makes an important distinction in methods of critical reading. The crux of the issue stems from this concept: “whether a novel is a static object (a form) or an experience in time” (Bronstein). Examined as a whole, there is no suspense in “The Night Watch.” Every appearance of the supernatural gets neatly tied up with a nice, rational, normal explanation. Examined as a temporal experience, the story presents itself differently. At the moment when the people holding the night vigil discover Mr. Helger climbing from his coffin, the reader is caught up in the characters’ justifiable horror. There is a moment when the supernatural explanation is weighed implicitly against the rational explanation and the answer is unclear. The supernatural holds enough power to the characters’ imagination that they flee for safety.
In this moment, without the knowledge of how the story ends, “The Night Watch” exemplifies fantastic literature. In his book The Fantastic, Tzvetan Todorov defines the genre of fantastic literature. He describes two essential qualities and a third optional quality in his definition. First the reader must “hesitate between a natural and supernatural explanation of the events described” (Todorov pg. 33). While in “The Night Watch” supernatural explanations are not explicitly supplied to the reader, the momentary fear and distress and thoughts of the characters hint at the potential. In the moment, both natural and supernatural explanations would be consistent with what the characters see and do. Secondly, the reader must view the text not as allegorical or “poetic”, but as a factual representation of events. Todorov expands on this point saying, “there exist narratives which contain supernatural elements without the reader’s ever questioning their nature, for he realizes that he is not to take them literally” (Todorov pg. 32). In “The Night Watch” there is nothing in the language that would prompt the reader to not take the events literally. All the narration and dialog convey a factual recounting of the events and emotions that the characters experienced. The third optional aspect of fantastic literature links the reader’s experience of hesitancy with that of a character in the story (Todorov pg. 33). In “The Night Watch” this is accomplished twice through two different characters. The first is through the narrator. When the narrator flees the house and the animated body of Mr. Helger, the narrator’s uncertainty is linked with the reader’s uncertainty. Neither knows whether the body is possessed or if there is a rational explanation, and in that uncertainty, there is fear. The second instance of this happening is when Mrs. Johnstone recounts her ghost story. As she recounts her investigation into the mysterious knocking and door banging, the reader shares in her uncertainty of whether the room is haunted or if there could be a rational explanation.
It is important to expand upon how the second aspect of fantastical literature applies to “The Night Watch”. It is largely the way that the narrator communicate information to the reader that determines how literally the reader will take that information. In their book on narrative, Abbot dissects the different aspects of narration and the effects they have on the reader. One key concept in this application is the reliability of the narrator. If the reader cannot trust the narrator to give a reliable account of events, then they will never be convinced of the possibility of the supernatural. Obviously, the narrator is simply hallucinating or insane. A reliable narrator changes the story. Now the reader can buy into the narrative that these seemingly fantastic events have actually happened. In “The Night Watch” the author establishes the reliability of the narrator through a variety of ways. One is the way that dialog is presented. All of the lines are “direct discourse” which gives a very matter-of-fact feel to the narrator (Abbot). Complicating the matter is the fact that the story presents two fantastic scenarios to the reader but in very different ways. For the first one, Mr. Helger rising from his coffin, the reader sees it from the perspective of the narrator. The author has already established the narrator as reliable, and he serves as the “focalizer” for this portion of the story (Abbot). Additionally, he is not distanced from the story, so we have the same information, or lack thereof, that the narrator has. This is the perfect combination to meet the conditions of a fantastic story. The second fantastic moment in the story is presented quite differently. This is now an event being recounted by another character to the narrator. Mrs. Johnstone was presented almost as a prankster for a short period. When she interrupts her ghost story to investigate Mr. Helger’s room, the narrator understandably takes this to be a prank meant to provide a cheap, spooky thrill. This sense that the narrator finds her unreliable carries through to the reader and colors the perception of her story. Additionally, by the time she can resume her story the climax and completely ordinary resolution of the first fantastic event have already come. The resolution of her storyline feels almost perfunctory at this point, like it is a given that a natural explanation is a forgone conclusion.
I think that hits the crux of the matter on why this story can have elements of the fantastic but not really be a horror story. Lovecraft states that “A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and portentousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain—a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those fixed laws of Nature which are our only safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space” (Lovecraft). “The Night Watch” lacks that sense of gravitas with which Lovecraft regards the supernatural. When the fantastic occurrence in Mrs. Johnstone’s story is interrupted right as it reaches its climax, the reader loses immersion in and the seriousness of the moment. When the reader is returned to that moment, they have already experienced the anti-climactic resolution to the other fantastic event and the secondhand account of an old story could not possibly capture the imagination.
Ultimately, we gain a greater understanding of literary techniques and their effects through experimentation. “The Knight Watch” very deliberately steps away from horror despite using elements of fantastic literature. This brings us to an important distinction in the perspective between Lovecraft and Todorov. In his work Todorov disagrees with a quote from Lovecraft that says, “A tale is fantastic if the reader experiences an emotion of profound fear and terror, the presence of unsuspected worlds and powers” (Todorov pg. 35). He refutes this position and claims that it is futile to define a genre based on emotional response from readers. Todorov claims that “fear is often linked with the fantastic, but it is not a necessary condition of the genre” (Todorov pg. 35). This claim is easily supported by “The Night Watch” as we have already examined how the story both meets the mark of fantastic literature while skirting horror.
References
Lovecraft, H. P. “Supernatural Horror in Literature.” The H.P. Lovecraft Archive, 20 Oct. 2009, www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/essays/shil.aspx.
Todorov, Tzvetan. The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre. Cornell University Press, 1975.
The Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore. “Edgar Allan Poe’s Writings in the Casket and Graham’s Magazine.” Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore – Works – Editions – Edgar Allan Poe’s Writings in the Casket and Graham’s Magazine, 2020, www.eapoe.org/WORKS/editions/mgm001c.htm.
Bronstein, Michaela. “How Not to Re-Read Novels: The Critical Value of First Reading.” Journal of Modern Literature, vol. 39, no. 3, 2016, p. 76, https://doi.org/10.2979/jmodelite.39.3.06.
Abbot, H. P. The Cambridge Introduction to Narrative. Cambridge University Press, 2008.
Beal, Eileen. “Funeral Homes and Funeral Practices: Encyclopedia of Cleveland History: Case Western Reserve University.” Encyclopedia of Cleveland History | Case Western Reserve University, 11 May 2018, case.edu/ech/articles/f/funeral-homes-and-funeral-practices.
The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. “Wake.” Encyclopædia Britannica, 1998, www.britannica.com/topic/wake-religious-rite.
Stevenson, Robert Louis. “The Merry Men and Other Tales and Fables: Thrawn Janet.” Wikisource, the Free Online Library, 20 Dec. 2021, en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Merry_Men_and_Other_Tales_and_Fables/Thrawn_Janet.
“Erin.” Wikipedia, 24 Apr. 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erin.
Shakespeare, William. King John. OpenSourceShakespear, 2003. https://www.opensourceshakespeare.org
Shakespeare, William. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. OpenSourceShakespear, 2003. https://www.opensourceshakespeare.org
Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. OpenSourceShakespear, 2003. https://www.opensourceshakespeare.org
License
The text of “The Night Watch” is in the public domain.
All editorial material by Anonymous MIT student is licensed under CC BY-NC 4.0