The Beast of Croglin Grange.
Captain Fisher also told us this really extraordinary story
connected with his own family:-
Fisher may sound a very plebeian name, but this family is of
very ancient lineage, and for many hundreds of years they have
possessed a very curious sort of place in Cumberland, which bears
the weird name of Croglin Grange. The great characteristic of the
house is that never at any period of its very long existence has
it been more than one story high, but it has a terrace from which
large grounds sweep away towards the Church in the hollow, and a
fine distant view.
When, in lapse of years, the Fisher's outgrew Croglin Grange
in family and fortune, they were wise enough not to destroy the
long-standing characteristic of the place by adding another story
to the house, but they went away to the south, to reside at
Thorncombe near Guildford, and they let Croglin Grange.
They were extremely fortunate in their tenants, two brothers
and a sister. They heard their praises from all quarters. To
their poorer neighbours they were all that is most kind and
beneficent, and their neighbours of a higher class spoke of them
as a most welcome addition to the little society of the
neighbourhood. On their part the tenants were greatly delighted
with their new residence. The arrangement of the house, which
would have been a trial to many, was not so to them. In every
respect Croglin Grange was exactly suited to them.
The winter was spent most happily by the new inmates of
Croglin Grange, who shared in all the little social pleasures of
the district, and made themselves very popular. In the following
summer, there was one day which was dreadfully, annihilatingly
hot. The brothers lay under the trees with their books, for it
was too hot for any active occupation. The sister sat in the
verandah and worked, or tried to work, for, in the intense
sultriness of that summer day, work was next to impossible. They
dined early, and after dinner they still sat out in the verandah,
enjoying the cool air which came with evening, and they watched
the sun set, and the moon rise over the belt of trees which
separated the grounds from the churchyard, seeing it mount the
heavens till the whole lawn was bathed in silver light, across
which the long shadows from the shrubbery fell as if embossed, so
vivid and distinct were they.
When they separated for the night, all retiring to their rooms
on the ground floor (for, as I said, there was no upstairs in
that house), the sister felt that the heat was still so great
that she could not sleep, and having fastened her window, she did
not close the shutters - in that very quiet place it was not
necessary - and, propped against the pillows, she still watched
the wonderful, the marvellous beauty of that summer night.
Gradually she became aware of two lights, two lights which
flickered in and out in the belt of trees which separated the
lawn from the churchyard, and as her gaze became fixed upon them,
she saw them emerge, fixed in a dark substance, a definite
ghastly something, which seemed every moment to become nearer,
increasing in size and substance as it approached. Every now and
then it was lost for a moment in the long shadows which stretched
across the lawn from the trees, and then it emerged larger than
ever, and still coming on - on. As she watched it, the most
uncontrollable horror seized her. She longed to get away, but the
door was close to the window and the door was locked on the
inside, and while she was unlocking it, she must be for an
instant nearer to it. She longed to scream, but her voice seemed
paralysed, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth.
Suddenly, she never could explain why afterwards, the terrible
object seemed to turn to one side, seemed to be going round the
house, not to be coming to her at all, and immediately she jumped
out of bed and rushed to the door, but as she was unlocking it,
she heard scratch, scratch, scratch upon the window, and saw a
hideous brown face with flaming eyes glaring in at her. She
rushed back to the bed, but the creature continued to scratch,
scratch, scratch on the window. She felt a sort of mental comfort
in the knowledge that the window was securely fastened on the
inside. Suddenly the scratching sound ceased. And a kind of
pecking sound took its place. Then, in her agony, she became
aware that the creature was unpicking the lead! The noise
continued, and a diamond pane of glass fell into the room. Then a
long bony finger of the creature came in and turned the handle of
the window, and the window opened, and the creature came in; and
it came across the room, and her terror was so great that she
could not scream, and it came up to the bed and twisted its long
bony fingers in her hair, and it dragged her head over the side
of the bed, and - it bit her violently in the throat.
As it bit her, her voice was released, and she screamed with
all her might and main. Her brothers rushed out of their rooms,
but the door was locked on the inside. A moment was lost while
they got a poker and broke it open. Then the creature had already
escaped through the window, and the sister, bleeding violently
from a wound in the throat, was lying unconscious over the side
of the bed. One brother pursued the creature, which fled before
him through the moonlight with gigantic strides, and eventually
seemed to disappear over the wall into the churchyard. Then he
rejoined his brother by the sister's bedside. She was dreadfully
hurt and her wound was a very definite one, but she was of strong
disposition, not given either to romance or superstition, and
when she came to herself she said, 'What has happened is most
extraordinary and I am very much hurt. It seems inexplicable, but
of course there is an explanation, and we must wait for it. It
will turn out that a lunatic has escaped from some asylum and
found his way here.' The wound healed and she appeared to get
well, but the doctor who was sent for to her would not believe
that she could bear so terrible a shock so easily, and insisted
that she must have change, mental and physical; so her brothers
took her to Switzerland.
Being a sensible girl, when she went abroad, she threw herself
at once into the interests of the country she was in. She dried
plants, she made sketches, she went up mountains, and, as autumn
came on, she was the person who urged that they should return to
Croglin Grange. 'We have taken it,' she said, 'for seven years,
and we have only been there one; and we shall always find it
difficult to let a house which is only one story high, so we had
better return there; lunatics do not escape every day.' As she
urged it, her brothers wished nothing better, and the family
returned to Cumberland. From there being no upstairs in the
house, it was impossible to make any great change in
arrangements. The sister occupied the same room, but it is
unnecessary to say she always closed her shutters, which,
however, as in many old houses, always left one top pane of the
window uncovered. The brothers moved, and occupied a room
together exactly opposite that of their sister, and they always
kept loaded pistols in their room.
The winter passed most peacefully and happily. In the
following March the sister was suddenly awakened by a sound she
remembered only too well - scratch, scratch, scratch upon the
window, and looking up, she saw, climbed up to the topmost pane
of the window, the same hideous brown shrivelled face, with
glaring eyes, looking in at her. This time she screamed as loud
as she could. Her brothers rushed out of their room with pistols,
and out of the front door. The creature was already scudding away
across the lawn. One of the brothers fired and hit it in the leg,
but still with the other leg it continued to make way, scrambled
over the wall into the churchyard, and seemed to disappear into a
vault which belonged to a family long extinct.
The next day the brothers summoned all the tenants of Croglin
Grange, and in their presence the vault was opened. A horrible
scene revealed itself. The vault was full of coffins; they had
been broken open, and their contents, horribly mangled and
distorted, were scattered over the floor. One coffin alone
remained intact. Of that the lid had been lifted, but still lay
loose upon the coffin. They raised it, and there, brown,
withered, shrivelled, mummified, but quite entire, was the same
hideous figure which had looked in at the windows of Croglin
Grange, with the marks of a recent pistol shot in the leg; and
they did the only thing that can lay a vampire - they burnt it.