Gin Lane
“Drunk for 1d. Dead drunk for 2d. Clean straw for nothing.”
A Report by Mr Bamber Byron: Concerning an Action undertaken by J— A—, B— B—, R— B—, S— D—, and T— S—, by request of O— B— T—.
A Curse upon Gin
Being gathered of a nonce at Kent’s Coffee House, we were privily intelligenced by O— B— T— that a factory in the service of Madam Genever had been suffered to falter, to such an extent that certain of its unfortunate patrons were rendered permanently incapable of vision. As O— B— T— is a man with the same eye for justice as Sir Henry Fielding’s brother John, we determined to ensure that this dolorous state of affairs should not prevail.
It chanced that a nearby hostelry, The King’s Arms, offered convivial retreat for watchers, and so we hied us thither to partake of local gossip regarding the issue of Mulligan’s factory.
Little enough passed our way, beyond factory workmen so sour that they might have been the very embodiment of their maladroit labours, but a busy clerk, though practically rushed off his feet, was kind enough to inform R— B— of the business of the place. R— B—’s simple country charm would brook no reservation, and the clerk was as fluent of tongue as any covert denizen might wish.
To the clerk’s eye, all seemed well that should be well – excepting, of course, the quality of the final product. More, he told a tale of witchings by which it seemed plain to us that some agency of man or demon must design to corrupt the spirit. Despite watches being set nightly, both within and without the building, rosy-fingered dawn would cast its tender glow upon a room mildly disarrayed – for without apparent intervention, closed vats would be found to have had their lids removed entire and no longer to be seen.
Being loathe to sacrifice profit to such mysteries, the proprietors continued to purvey the tampered liquor to their unfortunate clients.
Allowing for the moment some clemency to these mercantile ruffians, we sought to discover the root of the depredations. By good fortune, an establishment butting onto the factory — The Merry Milkmaid — was, by the nature of its business, pleased to allow the rent of a garret to S— D— (a mutton-monger) and B— B— for whatever purpose might be their pleasure. R— B— was once more to the fore, posing as S— D—’s personal servant and negotiator, and both servant and concierge were well-pleased with the bargain struck, despite his inexperience.
Secreting the entire company within the garret room, we awaited the occasion of nightfall before seeking a closer acquaintance with the gin factory in darkness.
With little ado, R— B— and S— D— descended to the junction of the roofs, before mounting to a light upon the factory roof. Unfortunately J— A— and T— S— failed to emulate this act of stealth and were importuned forcibly and vehemently by an irate householder armed with thunderbox and coal scuttle. Doing his best to avoid being likewise chastised, B— B— was fortunate to achieve the factory light without incident.
Upon arrival, he was perplexed to discover his comrades no longer present, but swiftly detected them upon the factory floor some distance below by the sounds of a scuffle. Attracted by a light below and an unusual glimmer, they had already descended within the building where they had instantly fallen upon some ne’er-do-wells tampering with the mash tubs.
Attempting to follow, B— B— was so unfortunate or remiss as to become held fast within the window frame, and required the assistance of J— A— and T— S— to set him free. In this they were successful, thanks in main to the efforts of J— A— in casting a suitable blessing but, unbalanced by his precipitate departure, they fell once more to the roof valley and were pelted mercilessly until they must needs retreat through the garret and down to the darkened street.
Reunited with his companions below, B— B— discovered that the rascals had already been subdued so effectively that they would take no further part in proceedings and that in the process a secret tunnel had been revealed by which the evil-doers had gained entrance to the mash tubs and stills. With such a mine, and a craven watch within, the success of their knavery was assured until our arrival.
To our surprise, the tunnel led back under the cellars of the very bawdy-house from which we had effected our rooftop entrance! Initially B— B—, and then the more agile R— B—, led the way through the tunnel and into a chamber upon the ground floor of the nugging-house.
Passing into a small chamber by way of a trap, we surprised the two leaders at their gambling – a common fellow, and a cackling crone. The common fellow picked up a cudgel, with which to threaten us, and R— B— distracted and discommoded him. As he failed to heed an order to drop the weapon, B— B— ran him through the arm as neatly as threading a needle, and R— B— brought him to the floor. In the confusion, the crone advanced towards a glowing crystal in the corner of the room, and with it vanished utterly. Searching availed nothing, and no other exit was to be found.
Searching did reveal some evil ploy to affect the gin by un-natural philosophical means; an array of seven and twenty gin bottles were found, each accompanied by a Tarot card of the major arcana. The cards bore a strange device, of the anti-Sefira Da’ath.
With no further action possible, we departed the scene as swiftly as might be achieved, leaving the scene to the Bow Street Runners. Finding the doors ajar, Sir Henry Fielding’s men closed the factory instantly, and detained various staff for their misdeeds.
An ill has been redressed.
Mr Derby’s Accounts – the thief-taker – the back Alleys – up on the Roof – a robust Response – the fleet-footed Clerk – Tea and Medals
Report by Mr S— B— E—
The Collar of Orion
Perhaps it is easier for one of my race to perceive the ubiquity of the dog in this great Gentile city. Certainly we Jews may occasionally employ dogs to guard our goods and dwelling places and, like other Londoners, take basic measures against the packs of feral beasts that seem to infest our streets, but they are seldom a part of our everyday lives. We do not keep lapdogs, housedogs or hunting dogs. We do not raise them to fight one another or other creatures for our amusement. We do not shower them with affection and they are most certainly not our best friends. However, take it from one observing with the dispassionate gaze of an outsider – our city seethes with dogs.
No person of intelligence, and certainly none belonging to this Society, can be unaware that there are those for whom the pursuit of knowledge is no philosophical enquiry but a strategy for achieving power. Consider what mischief might be wrought by such persons who were able to command dogs – not their own personal hounds but the generality of such animals – to do their bidding. An absurd, if troubling, thought, you might say – but one which myself and other fellows of our Society have been forced to entertain of late.
It began with the theft of an item of jewellery from one Mr B— (those involved in the affair will know to whom I refer but I will not expose him needlessly to further distress than that already visited upon him). His loss was an oddly designed gold collar sporting the motif of Orion the Hunter with prominence given to Sirius the Dog Star, represented by a large diamond. Unbeknownst to Mr B—, this item had already been stolen (possibly more than once) and was sought by those who would use the arcane powers apparently invested in this device – powers associated, we believe with the command of dogs.
The individuals who sought this device were most certainly not above committing murder against those who thwarted their plans. The original thief, one commonly known as “Spider”, was savaged to death by dogs in broad daylight on the Strand. The Receiver who sold it on was literally hounded from his premises by a gang of ruffians accompanied by a strangely motivated dog (this last I witnessed with my own eyes). Mr B himself was sorely afflicted by packs of dogs that haunted both his dreams and his waking life. Moreover, his garden became most strangely infested with dog-rose, clearly supernatural in the speed of its growth and vigour.
Fortunately, by the actions of members of our Society, both Intellectual and Physical, the collar was located where the thief had left it – between the paws of the Great Lion statue, which towers above the eastern end of the Strand. With the assistance of certain allies, who take it upon themselves to war against the intrusion of otherwordly forces in our affairs, it was destroyed – during which process it revealed itself to be an item of considerable supernatural power. The curse was lifted from Mr B— and thus a measure of redress effected for the unfortunate gentleman.
While we were cognisant that there were mysteries here that we had not uncovered and there was much that we did not fully understand, the matter seemed closed and my companions and I fondly imagined that this was the last we had heard of dog cults and the like. However, in my next instalment it shall be clear to you that this was very far from the end of our encounter with the evil dog societies of London.
Kidnapped – a proper Concern – a Family bereft – the Coachman – Sign of the Mandrake – all Hands – up Stairs, down Stairs, in my lady’s Chamber
From late August into early September Bartholomew Fair is held at West Smithfield for two Weeks, whereafter the greater part of the Shows move south of the River to Southwark. Here are all kinds of Entertainment, particularly Spectacles, Freaks, Ropedancers, sporting life, &c.
We are informed that Mr M— W—, having done his Servant, W— D—, most horribly to his Death, and left his Body to be devour’d by Dogs, is now fled for fear of Justice.
Reports reach your humble Informant that St Bartholomew’s Fair was lately concluded in its northern Ground by a magnificent Display of the Fireworks in broad Daylight. Such was the magnificence of the Spectacle that those who witnessed it could speak of little else of the Day’s Events.
A Report by Mr S— B— E—
The Temple of Anubis
The Matter began with a Murder Most Horrible. As reported in the popular Broadsheets, a certain Gentleman had murdered his Footman, thrown his Body to the Dogs, and had fled to avoid Justice. However, the Gentleman’s Cousin had formed a Theory that there was more to this than the Grub Street Reports and had approached the Society for Redress in the Matter.
Armed with a Warrant obtained by my Lord Foppingham (I am sure he would disdain to have his Name disguised) we made haste to the Undertakers where the Body in question was to be found, followed by a visit to the Scene of the Crime.
A viewing of the Body allowed us quickly to dismiss our Principle’s Theory – viz. that the Cadaver of the apparent Servant, badly mauled by Dogs, was in fact that of his Cousin and that the Manservant had murdered him and absconded. While it was indeed remarkably chewed around the Face, it was undoubtedly the Footman. It was also clear that although the Corpse had been remarkably mauled, the cause of Death was a broken Neck.
At the house the Housekeeper, the redoubtable Mrs Finney, showed us around. She and the other Servants broadly supported, through their Evidence, if not their Protestations, the generally held view – that the Footman was Dead in mysterious Circumstances and that the Master had equally mysteriously disappeared the very same Night.
The House did, however, contain one interesting Clue – a Paper in a locked Drawer from an unknown Party adjuring our missing Person to attend the Temple of Anubis at Bartholomew Fair to “learn something of advantage”. Anubis we knew to be the dog-headed God of the Ancient Aegyptian Underworld. Perhaps it is appropriate at this Point in the Narrative to introduce the Intelligence that the Cousin was known to be a great Fancier, Breeder and Trainer of Dogs. Through this, his Art, he moved in all circles of Society at will, include the very highest. All of a sudden our Memories of the Affair of the Collar of Orion were awakened and we began to discern a common Theme. As if to confirm our Suspicions, we found, in the same Drawer, Correspondence, innocuous of itself, from Persons of a dog-fancying persuasion, whose Names we had encountered before.
To the outward Appearance the Temple of Anubis was simply a Show-booth in a canvas Tent, although a surpassing stout, well-made and expansive One (and indeed expensive – it caused me no little Distress to have to part with a whole Shilling to view it). There was a general Show, presided over by a “High Priest” – a shaven-headed, steely-eyed Character, of dignified Mien and powerful Aspect – but the Meat of the Thing was in the Booths beyond the first Chamber. There one could see a number of the Wonders of Ancient Aegypt – the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Mummy, the Devourer of Souls (a crocodilian Deity) and finally Anubis himself. The Exhibits are extraordinary in their verisimilitude. Even now I do not understand its true Nature, but I formed a Hypothesis, yet to be refuted, that each Booth was an Extrusion into our own Place and Time of another – Mythic Aegypt.
While testing this Hypothesis, with the aid of a small Blade with which I introduced myself into the Interstices of the Tent, I was interrupted by the Results of the empirical Investigations of my Companion, the Reverend Munro, who wished to discover what would happen if he baited the Devourer of Souls with his Smallsword. I am indebted to the Gentleman, for the sight of those huge crocodilian Jaws bearing down upon me did as much to confirm my Theories as many a longer and more tedious Research. Fortunately I was able to evade the Creature and exit the Tent, with the assistance of a Diversion involving several small Boys procured by Lord Foppingham to do his Pleasure.
It were tedious to relate the Details of our subsequent Researches. However, we determined that our Quarry had indeed visited the Temple of Anubis. There he had entered into some kind of Pact with the High Priest. He had been transported to one of the realms we had seen within the booth and had there undergone some horrific and excruciating Ritual that transferred his Aspect to Another. It was unclear whether the original Agreement had been voluntarily or involuntarily, but the Outcome was surely not what our Subject had sought. Thus the Creature that had returned from Bartholomew Fair merely had the Face of a Man but was something else entire.
While the Creature passed for the Man to most, in somewise he was smoked by his Footman. Fatally, he made his suspicions known to the Doppelganger, who, to cover his Tracks, slew the hapless Footman by using its inhuman Strength to break his Neck, and then tore off his Face, covering his tracks by throwing the Corpse to the Dogs.
Satisfied with our Researches, but uncertain as to our next Move, we headed Home, our Carriage being followed by an uncommon number of Dogs. Clearly our Activities had attracted unwelcome Attentions. However, by the Expedient of crossing and re-crossing the Thames by Boat we were able to shake off our Pursuers.
The following day we received startling News that our Principle’s Cousin had returned and made a Deposition to the Magistrate that apparently satisfied the Charges against him. We made haste to call on him and found him seemingly alive and well. However we noted that Mrs Finney and all the other Servants had disappeared, to be replaced by new. Our meeting was amicable enough but afterwards it became apparent that Milord Foppingham had succumbed to exactly the same Malaise as Mr B— in my previous Account, his sleep haunted by canine Nightmares. This elementary Curse proved easy to overcome by the application of certain Natural Philosophical Disciplines. However, it confirmed us in our Suspicions, that is, that the Cousin was an Impostor and that arcane Powers similar to those we had previously encountered in the Matter of the Collar of Orion were at work here.
So what to do? We consulted with our erstwhile Allies from that Matter, the secret Society dedicated to combating the Arcane. It was determined that the best course of Action was to encourage the Conspirators to tip their Hand by returning to the Temple of Anubis and pursuing the modus operandi pioneered by the Reverend Munro – viz. to taunt the Devourer of Souls into revealing its true Nature.
In the event our Efforts exceeded our Expectations. The Devourer of Souls was so enraged that it exited the Tent and lived very much up to its Name. In the event its Victims were all of the commoner Sort, although it very nearly dined most fashionably upon Lord Foppingham who only barely contrived to avoid its snapping Jaws. Indeed we were beginning to wonder whether our Action had been entirely precipitate, when all of a sudden we were rescued by the unlikely Agency of Anubis himself, who emerged from his booth, picked up the crocodilian Behemoth and tucked it under his Arm. He also appeared to crush the High Priest, who had been trying vainly to retrieve the Situation, before disappearing, literally in a puff of smoke.
(It is interesting to relate that the only Reports of this very public Event spoke of a surprise daylight Fireworks Show – illustrating the tendency of the human Mind, at least in this rational Age to explain away the Supernatural with the banal.)
So what are we to make of all this? There are always those who would seek to use powerful but capricious Forces that they barely control and only hazily understand. We may speculate that the High Priest of the Temple of Anubis was one such, for he was surely the chief Mover in this Plot. His Intention, we surmise, was, through the Agency of the Doppelganger and his business Interests in the breeding of sporting Dogs, to gain Influence and Contacts at the highest Level of London Society. It would also no doubt bring him into contact with those Dog-fanciers who, as we have seen, already do not scruple to tamper with Powers best left alone.
Shortly afterwards we learn that our Principle’s Cousin had died in shocking circumstances remarkably similar to those surrounding the Death of his Manservant. He was found badly mauled by his Dogs. We visited the House where we found Mrs Finney back in charge. By her Account the original Servants had been imprisoned by their returning Master and an accompanying Group of Varlets. When they escaped they found the Master dead, as reported, and the Varlets gone.
This we felt marked an End of our Investigations. We felt we had provided no real Redress to our Principle, who remained ignorant of most of what I have recounted. However, despite the ultimate demise of his Cousin, he was at least content that the Stain on his family Honour caused by the original Accusation had been removed. Subsequently we learnt that the House where this had all occurred had burnt down. There were no Survivors but there was speculation that the Servants had in fact absconded with the Valuables and had caused the Fire to cover their Tracks. This we felt brought the Matter to a Conclusion. Once again we were to be proved wrong, as I shall reveal in my next Report for the Society.
…Mr Henry Harris, scion of the butcher trade in the parish of St Steven’s Beyond has departed to Europe…
Rev. St John Bulstrode has recently given up his living at St Steven’s Beyond following his Calling to undertake Missionary work amongst the benighted heathen. He is believed to have gone to Manchester.
Mrs R—’s disturbed Repose – landscaping – the Apothecary – the Graveyard – the Slaughterhouse – the Depths – flaming Retribution – riding the Bull.
“Please to remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot,
I see no Reason why Gunpowder Treason
should ever be forgot.”
Gallant Gentleman, Hon. Cartmill Downsman, son of Lord Windleham, murdered by intruders while defending his property.
“My strongbox, all my savings…” sobbed ashen-faced patriarch John Harris.
Report by Mr S— B— E—
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot
Coming of foreign Stock, perhaps the traditional Celebrations of the Fifth day of November do not have quite the same Resonance for me as for my fellow Citizens of London. Nevertheless, a number of my own Relatives having perished in Autos da Fe over the Years, I cannot deny that the sight of my adopted Nation celebrating a similar Fate meted out to a Papist would-be Assassin, has always afforded great Cheer.
It was early in November and Lord Foppingham was promenading around Town, accompanied by the Rev. Munro and myself, when we chanced upon a local – I believe the French have a Word for it – Entrepreneur. This Person was selling ready made Guys of most surprising quality. Milord was immediately concerned by considerations of whether these Devices might be considered fashionable – a matter he settled himself by purchasing One. Meanwhile Munro and I stopped awhile to consider the financial Basis for such an endeavour – our Calculations suggesting that this seemed a suspiciously unprofitable Business.
Our interest piqued, we repaired to Kent’s where Milord graciously permitted us to examine his new fashion Accessory. Careful dissection revealed, beneath a Veneer of second-hand Clothes and a Stuffing consisting largely of Horse-Nuts, a substantial charge of Gunpowder surrounded by a Web of arcane Words and Effectors. It appeared to us that we had a Device of unknown but clearly malign intent – in short – a Bomb, designed to go off on November 5th. Moreover we knew that there were now many of these scattered around London for the Trade we had observed had been most brisk.
Our initial Thought was of some kind of Jesuitical Plot and as honest Citizens we lost no Time in alerting the Authorities. They, in turn, while taking Measures to ensure the maintenance of public Order, were most anxious for us to continue our Investigations.
We returned to the Street where we had purchased the Guy. By dint of my Lord Foppingham purchasing first the Vendor’s entire Stock and then the entire contents of the delivery Cart when it arrived, we ensured that the said Cart would return to its Source instanter. We followed it to a Warehouse in the North of the City and while my Companions went to fetch the Runners, I stayed to see what further Intelligence I could gather. A most illuminating Conversation with the estimable Mrs Flossit, whose pie shop I can most heartily recommend, revealed that there was a small Factory in the Warehouse, manned by Locals who believed that they were engaged to manufacture Fireworks for a Party to be thrown by a Mr D—. The Enterprise had been set up only recently and was managed (most efficiently I was informed) by a Mrs Feeney.
On raiding this Premises we were faced not only with Evidence of the construction of the Guys but of a much more sinister Conspiracy. What could be more sinister than a Jesuitical Plot to disrupt our November the 5th Celebrations, I hear you ask. But there are even more malign Forces in Creation than Jesuits. Guarding the rear Room of the Factory, where the “Bombs” were created, and where the Workforce was forbidden to stray, we were confronted by one of the Geburim – a Creature of an ancient Race whose existence is hinted at in your Old Testament. This Entity of great Strength and utterly inimical to Mankind, fortunately cannot abide the Sunlight and in its rampage did sufficient Damage to the building to let Heaven’s golden Rays in. Discomfited by their brilliance the Ogre fled to whence it came. (Naturally, in recounting these Details I rely here on the Discretion of Members of this Society, who will doubtless be sensible of the Dangers of revealing this Account outside these Walls. For Knowledge that such Things still walk the Earth is not mete for the Mob).
With who knows how many of these Devices purchased by the unwitting Citizens of London, we felt impelled to repair in force to the House of Mr D— to arrest this Mrs Feeney, who had apparently inveigled herself a Position there as Housekeeper, in order to determine the Nature and extent of this Conspiracy. Pausing only to raise some Support from the Members of this Club, we effected an entry to Mr D—’s House. There we discovered, as we had suspected, that Mrs Feeney was none other than Mrs Finney, supposed dead in the Fire that destroyed the House of the Dog Breeder whose travails were the Subject of my previous Report (see The Temple of Anubis). There was also an assortment of Varlets who we likewise recognised as Staff from that House – all armed to the Teeth and ready to resist our Warrant.
After a sharp Engagement we soon had them begging for Mercy. However, Mrs Finney fled upstairs. We gave chase, Milord Foppingham in the Lead, but alas arrived too late to prevent a Tragedy. When we finally cornered our Quarry we found, not a middle aged Housekeeper but a Beast – none other, we believe, than the Doppleganger who stole the face of the Dog Breeder. At its Feet lay the broken Body of Mr D—, slain with his own Sword. We surmise that he must have belatedly realised the true Nature of his “Housekeeper” and bravely sought to prevent its escape.
This Creature of inhuman Strength and Vitality required many Sword Strokes and Pistol Shots before it could be dispatched. Members of this Society who were present can attest that it was no normal Denizen of this Earth. Again I would call on them and you to be discrete for it cannot be in the Public Interest that these Things be widely known.
So what was the Nature of this elaborate Plot we had foiled? While the Devices in the Guys were explosive, my researches reveal that they were not exactly Bombs, although there was an Element designed to explode if tampered with carelessly. It appears that the main Intention of the Device was some kind of summoning. Between Lord Foppingham’s purchases and the Warnings of the Bow Street Runners and Magistrates most of the Guys were found and rendered harmless. However, amongst those Devices that were actually placed on Bonfires, some Proportion were observed to take on a strange kind of Life, albeit briefly, standing up and appearing to walk.
My Hypothesis is that the Beast sought to conjure an Army of helpers by summoning some Manner of malign Spirit, which would animate the Guy and do its Master’s bidding. However, the Charges were mass-produced to a comparatively low Standard and from those I have examined, I estimate that only a few in each Hundred would actually have worked in our modern World. It may be speculated that where the Beast came from these kinds of Rituals may have more Power. The depleted Number that actually survived to the appointed Day perhaps contained none sufficiently well-wrought to Survive. There may also have been the need for some guiding Intelligence present at its “birth” and with the slaying of the Beast we had removed that Agency.
I know of no Guy that lasted more than a few Seconds of animation, but it would be prudent for we, who know something of the Truth, to be alert to the possibility and keep our ears open for such an Account. Nevertheless I will once again posit the view that this Matter is now closed. I sincerely hope that this time I will be proved correct.
Conspiracy Thwarted – the King’s Person safe – from The Gentleman’s Magazine – Lord Cornbury disgraced.
Mandrake Steps Buildings consumed by Fire.
Unfinished business – an Excursion to the country – face-to-face – wagons in the Night – bloody Execution – Qui va là – the things in the crypt – the incendiaries – the Rectory – the Letter.