Lord of the Hollow Dark (6 page)

He doubted if there were any whiskey in the whole house; alcohol, Apollinax had mentioned once, interfered with the effects of that rare powder which Gerontion had collected and compounded in Hamnegri and Sweeney had smuggled into Britain. As for guns, the boys at the gate had them, but Sweeney knew better than to try to steal one: those boys were a nasty lot, crazily loyal to Apollinax. There remained the possibility of a joint of something or other. Rather to his own surprise, Sweeney had managed to cure himself of taking hard drugs, contenting himself with pot. How about Gerontion’s white powder, what they had called
kalanzi
in Haggat? One had to restrict the dose: Sweeney recalled what had happened to certain Haggat beggars that the Archvicar had used as guinea pigs. It was precious stuff, and Gerontion had been the only supplier.

Sweeney had tried it once, surreptitiously, after wheedling out of Gerontion, a year ago, some information about dosages and consequences. Out of this world! If you wanted a trip,
kalanzi
would take you farther than anything else could. If you meant to come back, you could risk only a tiny pinch. You could have a grain of it straight, or you could dilute a grain in a liquid prepared according to the Archvicar’s formula. The stuff took all the fear out of you, while it lasted. It was extracted and distilled from some rare root found only in Kalidu, Gerontion had told him. Even to hunt for the root in the desert, you had to run the risk of being speared in the back by some Omtaggan tribesman who wanted your gear. Somewhere in this house, Apollinax had stocks of
kalanzi
, for it was part of Apollinax’s method for getting into that Timeless Moment.

With
kalanzi
, a man had to tell himself, “Not too much!” Its worst danger was that you could take quite a bit, initially, and walk around for hours, perhaps-until the full impact hit your system. Then you’d get the D.T.’s, and seem to find yourself in some other world, some creepy ghastly world, with all the physical sensations of being there and having things done to you that you didn’t want done. And after coming out of that state, you might be mush-brained for as long as you lived, which happily wouldn’t be long. Just that had happened to Gerontion’s beggars in Haggat. Of sensual drugs,
kalanzi
was the best and the worst.

So go easy, Sweeney! But tomorrow he’d see if he couldn’t pocket a bit of
kalanzi
for himself. Meanwhile, in this damned maze of a house, he couldn’t even find his way to a woman at night. Marina was the one to corner, even though he knew the danger if she should talk afterward. A pinch of
kalanzi
, tomorrow, would give him the nerve. But how should he get through the night?

As he took off his clothes, his hand encountered the sheaf of notepaper that the Archvicar had handed to him. He supposed he would have to glance through the thing, especially if Apollinax insisted upon his poking about the foundations of this ancient house. Actually, he wasn’t a bad architect, and had worked with competent builders; it had been the drugs that had got him expelled from the university, not incompetence.

What hocus-pocus was Apollinax up to now? Sweeney had been able to keep clear of Apollinax’s crazy cult, only running errands for the Master. The world was swarming with these “transcendental” cultists nowadays, but Sweeney wanted no part of that bunk. It must be a good racket for Apollinax, or whatever the man’s true name was, for he paid well, never was short of money, and could hire this big house, plus Grishkin. Those kids of his, like zombies, were recruited in the States mostly: Apollinax had plenty more of them where these came from. They gave Sweeney the creeps. He knew he was no martyr.

He settled himself in bed with the manuscript. It was in a bold hand, but the characters were difficult to decipher; he would have to read slowly until he got the hang of it.

Gerontion was something better than a “failed B.A., Calcutta.” Gerontion said he had been at Oxford; perhaps he really had done more than see the spires of Oxford as he had been passing by on the train. The old toxicologist knew something about everything, and he had fortitude, no denying that. After being tortured for months in that Haggat prison, and losing half his weight there, the Archvicar seemed shrewder and wittier than he had been in Africa. In Haggat, Sweeney had ferreted out the information that the man must be a Parsee by birth, or half Parsee, and that he had lived under other names than Gerontion. What had the Archvicar been hinting at, in their talk before Apollinax had come into the room? Was he suggesting an alliance? What for? Well, look at the old toad’s notes.

For a first draft, the manuscript was neat enough. Sweeney began reading languidly, but soon his interest was stirred.

OBSERVATIONS CONCERNING PHENOMENA
AT BALGRUMMO LODGING

At your direction, I have set down formally this memorandum of our recent conversations on the subject, together with certain supplementary suggestions. Permit me to recommend, my dear sir and employer, that you destroy these papers upon having committed to memory their contents: it would be awkward if such a document were produced in an action at law.

It appears improbable that more information about Balgrummo Lodging can be obtained than that which we already possess. I have made thorough search, at some harm to my constitution, of the muniments here at the Lodging, have consulted other papers of the Inchburn family, have gone over relevant materials in the chief antiquarian collections of Scotland, have obtained access to such Scottish private archives and collections as seemed likely to touch upon Balgrummo Lodging and its proprietors, and have ascertained that, except for myself, all participants in the affair of 1913 at Balgrummo Lodging either are dead or have dropped altogether from sight. Perhaps materials relating to the early history of this property, and to what occurred here during the sixteenth century, were destroyed during the Regent Morton’s sack of the Lodging. As an alchemist, the Third Laird must have kept careful records of his experiments here. Those have vanished.

I do not attempt below a systematic account of the history of the Lodging and the monastic buildings which stood upon the site earlier, nor of the actual or alleged “psychic” occurrences from medieval times until the present century. Instead, I endeavor to provide you, Master, with succinct, considered responses to your principal inquiries.

1. Access to the weem, or
souterrain.
Before this property was secularized and put into the possession of the Inchburns of Balgrummo, popularly it was known as Nectan’s Purgatory, or Nectan’s Weem. We are uncertain as to the character, construction, and extent of the subterranean chambers and passages beneath the buildings now known as Balgrummo’s Lodging; so it is best to refer to the whole complex as the Weem, implying an artificial cave.

It is certain that this Weem existed and was known in early medieval times. The Priory of Saint Nectan was erected above it, for at one time the Purgatory or Weem was nearly so famous a religious site as was Patrick’s Purgatory, in Ireland. Whether the Weem still exists, at least in its state before the year 1500, has not been positively determined. Certainly it has been damaged, and it may have been flooded or have collapsed.

Presumably the Weem lies, or lay, beneath the large hillock, mound, tumulus, or motte upon which the Lodging stands. (It is uncertain even whether this mount is a work of nature improved by art, or almost wholly the work of man.) The chambers and passages of the Weem may have been or still may be in part elaborate masonry structures, like undercrofts, comparable to the extant “Goblin Ha’” near Gifford. At least the earlier portion of the underground complex, however, probably is a good-sized cave. The geology of this district considered, we are not to expect such a formation as Wookey Hole, in extent; but the strata beneath the Lodging belong to those known as the “Coal Measures,” and include apparently large areas of calcareous rock from which extensive caves may have been formed through the action of carbonic acid. At some remote time, indeed, the whole of the valley known as Fettinch or Balgrummo Den, to the rear of the Lodging, may have been an enormous cavern, of which the roof collapsed some thousands of years ago. Therefore it seems not unreasonable to assume that old tales of a labyrinth or maze beneath the Lodging, of which Saint Nectan’s Holy Weem is a part, have some foundation in fact.

So presumably there once existed, and perhaps still exists, beneath the Priory which stood upon this site, a “holy cave” containing a spring of water once used in rites; this cave, improved by art, may have been not unlike Saint Fillan’s Cave at Pittenweem, in Fife, which still may be inspected.

These subterranean reaches beneath the present Balgrummo’s Lodging were known in medieval times as “Saint Nectan’s Purgatory.” A handsome and broad “Pilgrims’ Stair,” tortuously quarried from the living rock, is said to have twisted down to the Purgatory. A portion of the priory structures, as well as of the earlier Templars’ buildings, is incorporated in the present Balgrummo Lodging; but even the whereabouts of the “Pilgrims’ Stair” is quite unknown today.

This Stair and Saint Nectan’s Purgatory were “destroyed” by the Archbishop of St. Andrews, at papal insistence, about the year 1500. Probably the “destruction” consisted of removing the portable contents of the Weem and sealing the entrance or entrances thoroughly.

It is believed that the Third Laird of Balgrummo, or “Warlock Laird,” reopened the
souterrain
not earlier than 1570, for purposes which remain conjectural. He may have enlarged the passages and chambers within; he was accused by the Regent Morton of having done so, and there exists some documentary evidence to suggest that he kept at work about the Lodging a considerable body of miner-serfs. With a number of retainers, miners among them, the Third Laird retreated into the subterranean areas when the Earl of Morton’s troops stormed the Lodging in 1578. The entrance to the Weem was blown up from within, presumably upon the Third Laird’s orders, to prevent his being taken and burnt as a warlock. Traditionary tales notwithstanding, it may be assumed that neither the Third Laird nor any of his party escaped from the Weem. Thus this house stands over dead men’s bones.

The Fourth Laird, some years after succeeding to the estate, shored up the foundations of the northern face of the Lodging, that quarter of the house having been shaken by his father’s men’s use of gunpowder in sealing the entrance to the Weem. In doing so, the Fourth Laird’s masons must have blocked still further the old access to the underground reaches.

So much may be gathered from the Fourth Laird’s papers and lesser sources. May we assume that no person has penetrated to the old Purgatory since the destruction of 1578? As recently as last year, the Balgrummo Trust (which is chiefly Miss Euphemia Inchburn) denied a request from the Ancient Monuments Commission for permission to examine the older portions of the Lodging. Such has been the policy of the Inchburns ever since the succession of the Fourth Laird. Although the last Lord Balgrummo was much interested in regaining entrance to the Purgatory, it is certain that he had not been able to do so by 1913, when his “Trouble” undid him. The rituals of his circle-I give you personal testimony—were held in the existing damaged chapel, not in the Weem.

There is no evidence available as to whether he tried to reach the Purgatory after his isolation under house arrest here in the Lodging. Gillespie, the Balgrummo Trust’s solicitor, informs me that the Trust authorized no expenditures for such purposes during the whole of the last lord’s house confinement. I continue to examine Lord Balgrummo’s personal papers upon this point, but much of what fragmentary notes were kept by him appears to be in code.

As I mentioned above, no approach to the old Pilgrims’ Stair has been discovered. In the present cellars no indication exists of an entrance from that quarter. Presumably the medieval access was under or near the present northern face of the Lodging. Heavy external buttresses, conspicuous there today, were erected against this front by the first Lord Balgrummo, late in the seventeenth century. The old approach may lie buried, presumably impossible to excavate without extensive demolition of the Lodging, beneath those works.

Some clue might be gained by tracing the lines of the old monastic drains which still run beneath the Lodging-they having been constructed when pilgrimages to the Priory of Saint Nectan and its Purgatory were not infrequent, before 1500. The place of worship and the place of slime, one may conjecture, lay cheek by jowl. Such monastic sewers often were elaborately constructed and large enough to permit passage of men, if with some difficulty. Some old plans which I have found in this house, however, seem to suggest that the medieval drains are permanently filled with water from the adjacent Moss, accounting for the dampness of large portions of the Lodging.

Thus I am unable to encourage you, my dear sir and employer, in your ambition to find a way into the Purgatory. Not only is it doubtful whether an entrance could be opened at all, but after the elapse of centuries the whole
souterrain
may be filled with water or fatal to enter because of firedamp.

Such are the physical impediments and hazards. It seems to me also that there might be other dangers consequent upon disturbing a place formerly put to certain ceremonial uses. You understand such matters better than I do, but you cannot be unaware of “psychic risks.”
Quieta non movere.

2. Particulars of the last Lord Balgrummo. Alexander Fillan Inchburn, tenth and last Baron Balgrummo, found dead in the Lodging three years past, undoubtedly was proficient in the occult arts. As remarked above, I happen to be the last person alive who had some small share in his rituals. Although he possessed several other large houses, Balgrummo made the Lodging his principal residence, even before he was confined here. His slaying of two principal members of the cult of which he was patron appears not to have been premeditated, and yet not altogether the act of a madman, as it was represented in the press at the time. Unquestionably he was influenced in his occult studies by the example of his distant ancestor the Third Laird. It is believed by his surviving niece and by the family solicitor, both canny people, that Lord Balgrummo’s presence curiously pervaded the whole house during his lifetime and may not have wholly vanished from the Lodging upon his death.

With respect to a related inquiry, it is true that a picture thief was found dead in the Lodging at the time when the last Lord Balgrummo’s body was discovered. The cause of the former’s death could not be ascertained. There exist rumors of two or three other mysterious deaths within the Lodging or its policies, during the last half-century of Lord Balgrummo’s life; but these are not substantiated by evidence which a court of law would accept.

The weapon that Lord Balgrummo employed in the killing of two members of his cult never has been discovered. Nor do the fragmentary jottings or notes which Balgrummo made during his five decades of confinement to this house contain any recognizable reference to that notorious slaying nor to the reputed deaths of other persons, later, in or near the Lodging. I regret being unable to give you satisfaction on these two points which you particularly emphasized.

3. Local tradition and folklore. Unhappily no systematic compilation of popular tales concerning the Lodging and the earlier structures upon this site was made while such a collection might have been possible. The Inchburn family may have discouraged any such undertaking. We retain only fragments, in private collections of papers, touching on several centuries of local belief. These fragments reflect a confused mass of narrations, confounding pre-Christian times, the medieval period, events of the Reformation, and later episodes.

What with the mobility of population in recent decades, and the destruction of the nearby ancient village of Fettinch, some nine years ago, to clear the ground for the new Fossie Housing Estate, there survives virtually no continuity of local population from which otherwise some significant folklore clues might be gathered. In any event, here as elsewhere, the successive coming of popular newspapers, films, radio, television, and other modern diversions has obliterated local folklore as “oral history.” Let me express my sorrow that I have been unable to gather substantial unrecorded evidence of that character.

Notwithstanding, it may be said confidently that until the early years of the present century, and indeed as late as the time of Balgrummo’s Trouble in 1913, some among the population of this parish at least half believed that preternatural phenomena continued to occur within the Balgrummo demesne. The vanished
souterrain,
according to a number of elderly persons, was the abode of warlocks and witches; according to others, the stronghold or the prison of fairies. At the time of the Trouble in 1913, three or four cottagers of advanced years testified to journalists that in their youth they had heard “the music under the hill,” the sound of chanting or wailing beneath Balgrummo Den, which at that time had not been closed to strollers. One woman perhaps ninety years of age, who had been a servant girl in the Lodging when fifteen years old, volunteered the information that she had heard such revelry—if we are to call it that—beneath the Lodging itself.

With such fancies or traditions were mixed up memories and legends of the fate of the Third Laird and his followers, self-immured in the Purgatory. These were said still to cry out for rescue; as late as 1895, two coal miners in the nearby Balgrummo Pits (disused since nationalization) declared that they had heard tappings on the walls of the shafts, from the direction of the Lodging, and even faint imploring shouts, allegedly from the lost Laird, his paramour, and his armed men. The miners did not endeavor to break through to the damned; they fled as fast as they could up to the pithead.

Almost certainly the area near the Lodging has been a haunted spot for many centuries; some of the legends have an origin obviously pre-Christian, and St. Nectan’s Purgatory itself seems to have been a pagan religious center converted to Christian, or quasi-Christian, observances. There survive many other such examples of mystical continuity in Scotland, such places having been resorted to until the Reformation. The many “holy wells” are the most common manifestations of that continuity.

As for your question concerning the objective reality of the phenomena associated with
the souterrain
here, I must decline again to commit myself. When a young man, I did incline to believe that some activity of the sort continued under the Lodging. With regard to the now-popular theory of “earth currents” which you tentatively advanced, I am of no fixed opinion.

4. Necromancy. When I agreed, dear sir and employer, to undertake certain tasks for you on satisfactory terms, conjuring was not mentioned. It is true that once I was put on trial in the Shan States, charged with necromancy. But I must remind you that I was acquitted, or at least that the verdict of the magistrate was the equivalent of the Scottish “not proven,” two principal witnesses having disappeared during the interval between my arrest and the court hearings. Moreover, I was charged in that instance with having raised up a small boy who had been buried less than twenty-four hours, and of compelling the corpse to serve me as messenger. It would be a very different matter to raise men and women buried alive three centuries ago. “Catch the shadow ere the substance fade.” I protest that whatever powers of rescucitation I may possess do not extend so far.