A Victorian Horror Story for Christmas
SEASON 3 : BONUS 3
DECEMBER 24, 2024
This is a special bonus episode to celebrate Christmas the Victorian way. In the winter and especially during the Christmas season, Victorian’s enjoyed gathering with the family around the fire at night and telling ghost stories. So tonight, I am going to tell you, in my own words, one of my favorite Victorian era ghost stories. This story was first published in in 1902 by W. W. Jacobs.
It is called “The Monkey’s Paw.”
Follow along on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube @agoodnightforamurder.
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INTRO
Hello and Happy Holidays everyone
Welcome to A Good Night for a Murder, a Victorian true crime podcast.
My name is Kim, and this is a special bonus episode to celebrate Christmas the Victorian way.
In the winter and especially during the Christmas season, Victorian’s enjoyed gathering with the family around the fire at night and telling ghost stories.
So tonight, I am going to tell you, in my own words, one of my favorite Victorian era ghost stories.
This story was first published in in 1902 by W. W. Jacobs
It is called “The Monkey’s Paw.”
CONTENT WARNING
A Good Night for a Murder is a true crime podcast that does cover stories including death, violence, sexual assault, and other adult themes.
Please take care while listening.
EPISODE
It was a cold, wet night outside the White household.
Darkness had fallen almost unnaturally early, prompting Mrs. White to tend the fire more frequently than usual
She wanted it burning nice and hot when their visitor arrived. The visitor was an old friend of her husbands, Sergeant Major Morris
The pair had attended school together, and whereas Mr. White had gone on to eek out a reasonably comfortable living, Major Morris had achieved great success as a military man, then a businessman whose endeavours took him all over the world
At this point in the evening, Mrs. White was knitting by the fire, while her husband and grown son, Herbert, played a game of chess
Mr. White used to be able beat his son at chess with one hand tied behind his back, but young Herbert had become quite the skilled player as he’d grown, and was now - much to his father’s chagrin - a formidable match
Mr. White had just realized a mistake with his last move, and in an attempt to distract his son, he remarked, “Would you listen to that wind out there?”
“Yep, I hear it…” Herbert replied, focused on his next move.
“I wonder if he’ll even make it out here tonight…” Mr. White wondered aloud about Major Morris
Recognizing that Herbert had spotted his mistake, he suddenly hollered, “That’s the problem with living out here! The roads aren’t maintained and it makes it impossible to get around! They think because we’re only one of a few out here, it doesn’t matter!”
Mr. White’s last ditch effort to throw off his opponent - though true - did little to break his son’s concentration and in two more turns, Herbert had his father beat.
Mr. White caught a knowing glance exchanged between his wife and son - a bit of a smirk at his expense - but before he could scold them about it, he heard the gate at the end of the walkway bang, and he knew his friend had arrived.
Mr. White met him at the door and immediately ushered him to a chair by the fire to warm his self against the cold and blustering night.
The men drank whiskey as Major Morris regaled the White family with stories of his travels to exotic lands with strange customs and people
“I’d like to go to India myself one of these days,” remarked Mr. White, “Just to see it…”
“You’re better off where you are…” Major Morris replied, tipping his glass in a knowing manner…
“What was that one story you told that time? Something about a monkey paw?”
At this, Major Morris froze…
Recovering, he said, “That’s nothing worth hearing about…” and took a somewhat hasty gulp of his drink…
“What’s this about a monkey’s paw?” Mrs. White asked, her curiosity piqued.
“It’s something they thought was magic,” the major replied dismissively.
“Magic!” Herbert exclaimed
The three listeners leaned forward keenly…
Sighing, the Major went on:
“It’s literally just a mummified monkey’s paw…”
After a moment’s hesitation, he reached in to his pocket and proffered the object itself…
Indeed, it was a small, black, knobby… monkey’s paw!
Mrs. White jumped back, but Herbert reached out and took it from him
“An old fakir, a very holy man, put a spell on it.”
“He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it.”
This gave the three White’s a laugh, but their jovialness quickly faltered when they saw the unexpected graveness of the Major’s expression,
The room fell silent
For a moment the only sound was that of the crackling fire and the wind outside.
“Did you make three wishes, sir?” asked Herbert
Staring into the fire, the Major responded, almost inaudibly, yes, he had.
“And did you have your wishes?” Mrs. White asked then.
“I did,” the Major answered.
“Why do you still have it then?” Mr. White asked.
At this, the Major inhaled and sat back, and replied, “I don’t know, I thought about selling it, but it’s caused some… mischief… already. So I thought maybe I’d better hang on to it for safe keeping…”
The Major held the paw up in front of his face between his thumb and forefinger, then suddenly flung it in to the fire!
The White family all jumped at once, and Mr. White quickly fished the monkey’s paw out.
“Well if you don’t want it, just let me have it!” Mr. White said.
“You’d be better off to destroy it…” the major said seriously.
With a flourish, Mr. White straightened his self in front of the fire and said, “well, how I wish?”
His wife and son laughed, but the major only shook his head and told him not to blame him for what might happen if he kept it
“Wish for another pair of hands for me,” said his wife, “So I can get this dinner on the table faster.”
Major Morris stood suddenly
“No.” he said. “If you wish, just wish for something sensible…”
After this, Mrs. White did get dinner on the table, and the earlier conversation was forgotten, including the strange mood that had come over them all.
After the door closed behind Major Morris later that evening though, Herbert said, “Well, if the story of that monkey’s paw is half as true as the rest of his stories, I doubt we’ll get much out of it.”
At this, Mr. White picked the monkey’s paw up off of the side table and examined it.
His wife asked if he’d given Major Morris any money for it
When he said he had, she scolded him for his frivolous spending
“Wish to be an emperor, father, then you won’t have answer to mother’s nitpicking!”
His mother swatted at him playfully with a rag, and his father said, “Noooo, it has to be something sensible, remember?”
He stood thoughtfully turning the paw over in his fingers
“Well, wish for 200 pounds then. Then we can own our house,” said Herbert
His father smiled with amusement, held up the paw before him and said, “Alright then, I wish for 200 pounds!”
Then came a sound that startled them all as Mr. White fell back against the piano, causing a loud crash.
His wife and son whipped around to see what was the matter and to their astonishment saw the older man white as a ghost, pointing at the monkey’s paw that now lay on the carpet at his feet
“It moved!” he shouted
“It what!?” exclaimed his wife?
“It moved! The paw!” he reiterated, leaning over to peer at it on the floor.
“It did not, you just thought it moved,” his wife tsked at him.
“No, it really did…” said Mr. White, crouching down now to look more closely at it.
He reached out a hand and tentatively poked at the monkey’s paw with an extended forefinger
Realizing the ridiculousness of what he was saying, he plucked up his nerve and quickly picked the paw up off of the floor.
He slowly brought it closer to his face…
“You’re right,” he said examining the paw, “I must have imagined it…”
He stood up straight and set the paw aside on the sideboard, glancing back at it once before heading to pour his self another whiskey
For the rest of the evening, Mrs. White knit by the fire while Mr. White finished his pipe
The bang of the gate in the wind caused Mr. White to startle more than once.
His uneasiness was contagious, and despite the glowing fire, a heaviness settled over the entire house.
Eventually, Mr. and Mrs. White announced they were headed up to bed.
“Good night,” Herbert told them, “keep an eye out for the delivery of your money tonight.” he joked.
Herbert sat up awhile, listening to the wind wail and watching the flames dance and flicker in the fire
He imagined he saw shapes of animals and faces formed in them
The draft was strong that night and despite the quickness of the flames, he gazed in to one spot longer than usual that seemed stiller than the others
In that, he saw a face emerging… a horrible, twisted face… so frightening that he reached blindly for a glass of water beside him and flung it on to the fire…
After this, Herbert decided he’d better go to bed as well
The next morning was brisk, bright and clear, and whatever had come over the house the night before had dissipated in the sunlight
The family had come to see the events of the night before in a new light, and even had a laugh at Major Morris’ expense
“These businessmen will say anything to make a buck sometimes,” Mrs. White said, “Even so, how could 200 pounds hurt anyone?”
“It could fall out of the sky and land on you,” Herbert joked.
Mrs. White rolled her eyes at her son as he headed out the door to his job at Maw and Meggins factory.
Mr. and Mrs. White passed the day as they usually did, then just before supper time took a minute for themselves to sit down and rest.
“Herbert will expect you to have 200 pounds when he gets home,” Mrs. White said sarcastically.
“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I really thought I felt it move…” Mr. White said.
“Exactly,” said his wife, “you thought you felt it…”
“Well I did!” Mr. White went on, “I held it, like this, and then I… is something the matter?”
Mr. White noticed his wife had stopped listening to him and had turned her attention to something going on out of their front window
Mr. White looked as well, and down the lane, they saw a nicely dressed, young man who seemed to be pacing back in forth in front of their gate
He passed by 3 or 4 times before resolutely turning toward their house and pushing open the gate
Mrs. White rose and met the man at the door and ushered him inside
She and her husband waited patiently for the man to tell them his purpose, as his dress and manor clearly indicated he was from a class above their own…
Finally, after awkward handshakes and how-do-you-dos, the man announced he was from Maw and Meggins factory, where Herbert worked.
Mrs. White’s hands flew to her face, “What is it!?” she begged, “What’s happened? Is Herbert okay?”
“Settle now,” said Mr. White, trying desperately to be the more level headed of the two, “don’t jump to conclusions… It’s possible this may be good news?”
The man swallowed hard and looked down, “I’m sorry…” he said.
“Has he been hurt!?” Mrs. White rushed forward.
“He has,” said the man, “but… he’s not in any pain…”
“Oh!” cried Mrs. White, and collapsed in to a chair, “Thank goodness, thank goodness, he’s not -”
She broke off suddenly.
In her desperation, she’d mistook his meaning - but she understood now… she understood…
Her boy was dead…
“No!” she began to wail. “No no no!”
“He was caught in the machinery…” the man from Maw and Maggins said in a low voice.
Mr. White ran to his wife’s side, and fighting with everything he had in him to maintain his composure, he comforted his wife,
Then, to the man from Maw and Maggins he said, “He was the only child we had left… it’s hard… you understand…”
The representative from Maw and Maggins looked about ready to break his self and replied, “Of course… of course…”
Then as if suddenly remembering his purpose, he stated that the firm wished to convey their deepest sympathies, though would take no liability.
They did wish to compensate the family with a sum of money though
At this, Mr. White bolted to his feet
“What sum!? How much!?” he asked desperately.
“Two - hundred - pounds,” the man responded.
At that, Mr. White did not hear his wife scream, as he had passed out cold on the floor.
Things happened quickly after that.
The Whites did receive their 200 pounds.
Mr. White had to identify the body of his son - but he wouldn’t let his wife see - it was too much -
the equipment he’d been caught in had… well… they were lucky they anything left to bury…
They buried Herbert in the new cemetery two miles away, and afterwards moved through their days mechanically
About a week and a half later, Mr. White awoke in the night and realized his wife was not in bed.
He heard her nearby though, gently weeping
“Come back to bed, you’ll get cold,” he said softly.
“Not as cold as my sweet Herbert…” she replied, as a fresh wave of tears washed over her.
Mr. White knew he ought to get up and go to her, he was in as much pain as she was, if not more…
Had he caused this?
Had he caused this… with his wish?
He dismissed the thought in the same moment that it occurred to him and told his self to think of something else, anything else…
In his efforts to distract his self, he did not get up and go to his wife, but rather drifted off back to sleep in the warm bed..
But then, he was startled awake again, this time by his wife at the bedside, clutching his shoulders
“The paw!” she cried, “The paw! Do you still have it!?”
Struggling to come fully awake he responded, “What? Yes…”
She clapped and laughed - she didn’t sound like herself.
“Bring it to me, I want it,” his wife said manically.
“What in god’s name for!?” he asked.
“Two wishes!” she said frantically. “We have two more wishes! I only just thought of it now!”
All at once his blood ran cold and he understood her meaning.
“Go get it,” she demanded, hysterically. “Go get it now, and wish our boy alive again!”
Mr. White began to shake his head, as if trying to shake his next thoughts away
“He’s been dead 10 days!” his voice shook. “You didn’t see him before, if he was too terrible to look upon then - then how will he look now!?”
Mrs. White gripped his arm and yanked him out of bed with strength that an old woman should not have, and said, “Do you think I fear my own child that I nursed?
“Bring him back.”
His wife was not in her right mind - she was mad with grief -
Perhaps he saw no other option, but before he knew what he was doing, his feet had carried him down to the parlor where in the pitch black, his hand fell upon the monkey’s paw, hanging by the door
It felt gnarled, and repulsive - it made his skin crawl to touch it
He made his way back upstairs
His wife had lit a candle on the bedside table, and in the light of the flame, she looked more monster that human - driven by madness, her ability to reason was gone
“Wish,” she said.
“No, please, it’s wrong…” he said feebly. He was afraid of her.
“Wish!” she said again, louder this time.
“I wish my son alive again!”
He’d said it. Had he really said it? Why did he say it?
Neither of them moved…
As before, he had dropped the monkey’s paw on the floor
They stood opposite one another, staring at it.
Mr. White slowly sunk in to a chair and covered his face.
But his wife strode with purpose to the window and raised the blind.
And that’s how they both stayed for awhile, until the bedside candle burned down, then finally out.
Relieved, Mr. White dragged his self back to bed.
A short while later, he felt his wife get in beside him.
Neither fell back to sleep, but lay there in the dark listening to the wind in the rafters, the creaks of the house, a mouse scurrying in the wall
All of these sounds that Mr. White had grown so accustomed to were now too much for him to bear
He lay awhile screwing up his courage, before sitting up and striking a match to go downstairs and get a fresh bedside candle
His match burnt out as he reached the bottom of the stairs, and he paused to light another
That was when he heard a new sound - which was not the wind in the rafters, or a creak of house, or a mouse in wall - but more like… a knock… a soft knock, on their front door
He froze, unlit match in hand
And the sound came again - a knock - on the front door
He bounded up the stairs back to the bedroom and shut the door
The room was in pitch blackness but he could still make out his wife sitting bolt upright in bed
“What was that?” she said.
And then it came again - louder this time - a knock at the front door!
His wife flew out of bed and he flew to block the door
“Herbert! It’s Herbert!” she screamed.
“Of course, of course! The cemetery is 2 miles away! He needed time to get here!” she exclaimed.
She tried desperately to fight her way through her husband blocking her path
“It’s not!” Mr. White cried. “It’s not him anymore! For god’s sake whatever you do, don’t let it in!”
“You’re afraid of your own son!?” she cried, and with renewed strength pushed past her husband and off in to the dark house, headed directly for the front door.
“Herbert!” she screamed, “Herbert I hear you! I’m coming!”
What had begun as slow, rhythmic knocks were coming harder and faster now
“I’m here, Herbert, I’m right here!” Mrs. White cried
Mr. White heard her turn the bolt, then slide the bottom dead bolt aside
He curled in to ball by the bed and covered his face like a child
He felt cold, and hot, and weak - he was going to be sick
She was going to do it, she was going to let him in… let it in
BAM BAM BAM again came the pounding at the door
And then he heard is wife calling to him
“Help me!” She was saying. “Help I can’t reach!”
She couldn’t reach…
She couldn’t reach she couldn’t reach!
She couldn’t reach the top bolt!
But she would… she would…
Mr. White heard her hauling a chair across the floor from the parlor
BAM BAM BAM - again on the door
“Help me!” she cried.
In his mind, he cursed Major Morris, he cursed Maw and Maggins, he cursed the house, he cursed his wife - most of all he cursed the paw, that paw!
The monkey’s paw…
BAM BAM BAM - on the door!
Desperately he threw his self on to the carpet, arms sweeping wildly out before him
The paw, the paw!
BAM BAM BAM
He heard the creak of the top bolt
And at that second - that very last second his hand closed around the monkey’s paw and he breathed his last and final wish
The pounding on the door ceased
He heard the chair dragged away from the door, the door flung open, and felt an icy wind race through the house…
Then… nothing… he heard nothing…
Until a long, painful wail of disappointment and despair emerged from his wife
Mr. White jolted to his feet and he raced down the stairs to find her kneeling in front of the open door way, the frozen wind gently blowing her hair
He paused by her side and they both looked out in to the dark, cold, empty night…
He ran out to the gate, his bare feet punching through the ice of frozen, muddy puddles.
The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.
My friends, that is the story of The Monkey’s Paw
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I hope you all have a wonderful, safe and happy holiday with your friends and family.
Thank you for listening,
And I will talk to you again soon