#jemima barrows

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 20: Homestead (Transcript) - 2nd November 2015

tw: racism, slavery, child death, suicide, disease, ghosts Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

[Reminder of upcoming live shows at the time]

“Home sweet home”: for most of us, those words are about as true as it gets. The place we call home can easily become the centre of our universe and is often the source of our feelings of security and peace. Most people who tell you stories about their childhood home do so with wide eyes and a wistful smile. Home is, as they say, where the heart is. Our home is the place where we experience life, we fill each room with our laughter, we chase our passions, we make plans for the future. You might remember holidays in the living room, or breakfast conversations, or exploring the attic on a winter day. These homes, nothing more than buildings that we dwell in, somehow become a part of us, but life isn’t always roses and laughter. Sometimes the things we experience are… difficult, or painful, or both. Sometimes people do things that leave a lasting mark, like an echo that carries on through the years, and upon occasion these dark moments are even experienced within our home. From Macbeth to American Horror Story, from the typewriters of Shirley Jackson and Stephen King, it has been made abundantly clear just how much power the home can have over our lives. Maybe it’s the tragedy or the memories, maybe it’s the dark acts committed in the shadows or the secrets buried beneath the foundations, both metaphorical and literal. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t take a popular novelist or a historian to point out the simple truth: there’s no place like home, and considering what’s been known to happen there, that might be a good thing. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

When Christopher and Elizabeth Crowley built their home in the new South Wales town of Junee in south-eastern Australia, they envisioned a normal, happy future for themselves. Christopher Crowley had caught wind of the impending construction of the Great Southern Railway Line through Junee, and so he built the Railway Hotel across from the station, and it paid off. In 1884, they finished construction on a new home they called “Monte Cristo”. It wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but it did have nine rooms, a stable for his prized race horse, a dairy barn and a separate ballroom, although that eventually became the servants’ quarters. But life wasn’t idyllic for the Crowley family. While carrying one of the little Crowley girls, their nanny dropped her down the stairs, where she died from the injuries. She claimed that an unseen force had reached out and knocked the child from her arms. Whatever the cause, the Crowleys had to go through the ordeal of burying a child, something no parent should have to endure. In 1910, Mr. Crowley’s starched shirt collars began to rub the skin on his neck. The abscess that formed became gangrenous, and by December of that year he died as a result of a heart attack, brought on (they say) by the wound.  After her husband’s death, Elizabeth, already known to be a harsh, disciplined woman, went into a state of mourning that lasted the rest of her life. She converted one of the upstairs rooms into a chapel and spent much of her time there. According to local lore, she only left the house twice before her death in 1933.

Other tragedies found their way into Monte Cristo. A pregnant maid committed suicide by jumping from the top storey of the house; she bled to death on the front steps. Maurice, the stable boy,/ burnt to death in a fire, and in 1961, the caretaker of the house was shot and killed by a local boy, who had been inspired by the recent Hitchcock film, Psycho. Today, many young children feel anxious near the stairs. A dark stain has been seen on the front steps of the house, but it seems to fade in and out of view over time. The shape of a young woman in a white gown has been witnessed passing in front of the windows of the front balcony, and some believe it’s the spirit of the pregnant maid, repeating her final moments over and over. Others claim to have seen a young boy wandering around near the site of the coach house. A few visitors to the house have witnessed the figure of an older man in the upstairs hallway, and most have assumed it to be Mr. Crowley, but it’s his wife, Elizabeth, who is most commonly seen, almost as if she hasn’t fully let go of her home yet. She has been reported to appear in the dining room, where she’s ordered people to leave the room. Others have seen her ghostly figure in the chapel upstairs, dressed in black as if mourning for a lost loved one.

Across the world, in the state of Kentucky, another home became the scene of tragedy and pain. Their names have slipped from history, but in Allen county, one of the families there in the early 1860s owned a number of slaves. According to local stories, most of the slaves lived in their own quarters on the property, but the husband kept chains in the basement of the family home, for times when he wanted to… discipline one or two of them. When the civil war broke out, word began to spread among the slaves of the south that it would be better to escape and run north, so plans were made in their small dormitory over many weeks. Finally, the night came, and the entire group of slaves left the homestead and headed north. All of them, that is, except for the two still chained up in the basement of the owners’ home. Whether it was the noise of their escape or part of his usual evening rounds, the man soon discovered that his slaves were gone. The stories describe how he spent hours that night on horseback with his gun, riding north and looking for his runaway slaves, but they were never found. Instead, the man returned home empty-handed and full of rage. Fuelled by his anger, he descended into the basement, where he shot and killed both captive men. Later, after he had cooled off, he was said to have buried the bodies there in the dirt floor of the cellar, and then, months later, the man was called into service with the confederate army, where he died in battle. The widow never opened the cellar door again – in fact, even though it was in the middle of the house, she had it boarded up. There’s a lot of symbolism in that single action, if you’re looking for that sort of thing. I think she just wanted to make sure no one ever found the bodies her husband had buried beneath the dirt floor down there. She passed away a few years later due to illness, and the house was sold to distant relatives. When the new family began to move in, they opened the cellar and discovered that it reeked with a powerful odour. They vented the space and cleaned it as best they could, but the smell never went away. It wasn’t long before their children began to tell them about hearing sounds at night, that seemed to come from the cellar. They dismissed it as childhood fantasies, but the stories continued. One night, many months later, the husband and wife were both pulled from sleep by strange sounds. She stayed in bed while he went down to investigate. From their room, she claimed she heard a loud cry, and then a crash. She raced out of bed and ran to the cellar door. When she got there, she found her husband. He was lying dead on the dirt floor at the bottom of the cellar stairs, his neck broken and twisted. There are many stories like these, but they all teach the same, bitter lesson. Sometimes, our homes attract tragedy, and sometimes, we create it ourselves.

When Daniel Benton built his small, red, Cape-style home in Tolland, Connecticut, I doubt he imagined it would still be standing today. It’s not enormous like some of the plantation homes one might find in the south, but for a house built in 1720, it was comfortable, and in complete contrast to our modern, mobile life of the 21st century, it stayed in the Benton family until 1932. That’s over 210 years, for those of you who are counting, and that’s a very long time. The family grew, and by the 1770s, Daniel Benton had three grown grandsons who lived in the house with him. One of them, Elisha, had taken an interest in a young woman in town named Jemima Barrows. She was the daughter of a cabinet maker, and in a social station below that of the Bentons, and so Elisha’s family looked down on the romance. They did everything they could to discourage them, but Elisha and Jemima were stubborn. In 1775, an alarm was raised in Lexington, Massachusetts that was heard across the countryside, thanks to riders like Paul Revere. Colonists from all across New England came to join the fight, and among them were the three Benton grandchildren. While Daniel Benton was sad to see his grandchildren go off to war, there was some relief knowing that the separation just might be the thing that Elisha needed to take his mind off the young woman. It is thought by historians that Daniel hoped the war might bring an end to their relationship forever. He was only partly right. A year later, in 1776, all three of the Benton brothers were captured by British forces and taken to Long Island, where they were imprisoned on ships in the sound. These prison ships were notorious for their unsanitary conditions and the diseases that ran wild through the inmates. It was even thought that the British soldiers working the ships actually handed out food and bedding that was contaminated with smallpox. Soon, Daniel Benton received word that the two oldest of his grandsons had died while aboard the prison ships, but no word came of the whereabouts of Elisha. He sent for news, and waited impatiently, but before he could learn the truth, Daniel Benton passed away.

It was weeks later when the answer finally came: Elisha was free, and being bought home, but he was sick with smallpox. This was bittersweet news for the Benton family. On one hand, Elisha was coming home - that was good for everyone - but on the other, smallpox was deadly. Nearly half of everyone who contracted the disease eventually died, and those were not the kind of odds that gave people hope. Soldiers brought Elisha into the house and he was guided straight to a room near the kitchen known as “the dying and borning room”, where those giving birth or sick with illness could be kept away from the rest of the house and cared for. It was a colonial American version of quarantine and intensive care, but the word spread of Elisha’s return. Not every son and grandson returned from war, something even homes today still deal with, and one of those who caught wind of the young Benton’s arrival was Jemima Barrows. She had waited and stayed true to her beloved, and there was nothing she had hoped for more. Elisha had come home. I imagine she ran rather quickly to the doorstep of the Benton home. I would imagine that she knocked, as well, being from a lower social status, after all, but it must have been hard for her not to kick the door in and race to find her beloved. Jemima knew her place, though, and she waited for someone to come to the door. She was told that Elisha was sick, and that she needed to go back home, but Jemima turned out to be a very stubborn young woman. Even when they told her that he was dying and sick with a highly contagious and deadly disease, she wouldn’t relent, and in the end, she won. Jemima was allowed into the house, where she set herself up as his sole care-taker and nurse. After a time, Jemima’s parents became worried. Their daughter hadn’t come home all day, and so they made their way to the Benton home and asked if they had seen her. When they discovered that she was, in fact, in the room caring for a smallpox patient, it is said that they wept. Jemima’s mother said they would go back home and get clothing for their daughter, and then they quickly left the Benton house. They never came back.

Elisha Benton died on January 21st, 1776, after weeks of battling the smallpox that ravaged his body. Jemima stayed by his side the entire time, caring for him through it all, but her sacrifice did not come without a price. In the final days of Elisha’s life, she too began to show signs of the illness. Within weeks, she was also dead. The couple was buried on the Benton family property alongside the stone walls that line the road to the house, but due to burial customs at the time, they were not allowed to share the same plot. Instead, they were separated by about 40ft, one grave on either side of the road. It sounds like the end of a tragic story, and in some ways, it is. Elisha and Jemima were never able to marry, and their young lives were cut short. But in other ways, they live on. According to some, it’s their separation outside that has led to the reports of the restless spirits within the home. The Benton home was sold in 1932, and then again in 1969 to the Tolland Historical Society. It was converted into a museum shortly after, but the influx of visitors only served to draw out more reports of mysterious occurrences. One member of the staff claimed that her dog would not enter the dining room. When she picked the animal up and moved it to the sitting room, it refused to go anywhere else after that. Others have felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding and unwelcome. One woman, after cheerfully asking to visit the second floor, climbed the narrow staircase only to return moments later, telling the staff: “I never want to go up there again”. Noises have been heard throughout the house that are difficult to explain: knocking, footsteps, and what sounds like the snapping of branches have all been reported by visitors. Some have even heard what sounds like distant voices, and sometimes the movement of furniture. Others have heard what they describe as a weeping woman - someone who is mourning a deep loss. Those familiar with the homestead’s past have assumed the woman is Jemima, crying for her lost love. A few have even seen the figure of a young woman in a white dress in various places in the house, searching for something no one else can see.

At times, the home has been used by overnight guests. One couple actually lived there for a few weeks while their home was being renovated, and on one occasion entertained a guest of their own. They claimed that on the night of their friend’s visit, the conversation in front of the fireplace was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, thumping down the hallway from the eastern door of the home. The sounds moved closer and closer to the living room, and then just stopped. According to the woman, their guest was packed and gone within 15 minutes. Another couple who stayed overnight in the Benton homestead reported a very odd experience that happened during their stay. Their hosts had retired to sleep upstairs and they themselves had settled down in the living room, which was serving double duty as a guest room. The wife claims that she was awoken in the middle of the night. It was nearly completely dark in the room, but she felt as if someone, or something, were in the room with her. And then, as if materialising out of the darkness, a pair of legs appeared near the head of the bed. A man, she assumed, was standing there, close to her. Her first assumption was that her host had come down to play a joke on her, maybe that was the kind of guy he was, but the middle of the night is probably the worst time to play the joker, no matter who you are. Either way, she decided to call his bluff, and waited to see what he would do. Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next, though. A hand came out of the darkness and quickly covered her mouth. She flinched but held her ground. If he was going to try and frighten her, she said, he was in for a surprise. She pretended not to care, but after a few moments it became hard to breathe, and in the end, panic took over. Pushing the hand away, she sat up and whispered harshly at the figure: “What are you up to?” Almost instantly, everything vanished; the legs, the hand, all of it, just… gone. The following morning, she brought up her experience at breakfast and asked the hosting couple what the reason was for their prank. The husband and wife looked at each other with confused expressions on their faces. They each made the same claim: no one had come downstairs during the night.

The places we live can take on a certain life of their own. We fill them with our personality, our celebrations, and sometimes even our tragedy, and although we can move on, whether by packing up and moving out, or literally by leaving this life behind, we often leave pieces of ourselves behind. Like a cardboard box forgotten in the back corner of the attic, some of our echoes stay behind where others can discover them. Some call them ghosts, others think of them as “bad vibrations” – I don’t think any of us would be wrong no matter what language we use. In the end, something stays behind, and it’s not always easy to see. Sometimes, though, it is. A few years ago, an architectural photographer visited the Benton homestead with his sister in order to get some pictures for a project they were collaborating on. They wondered the property outside, looking for the best view of the house. It’s gorgeous, really, if you have a thing for antique, First Period homes, and the deep red paint on the wood clapboard is very classy and elegant. The project involved using polaroid cameras, the kind that immediately kicks out a small, white-framed photograph that slowly fades into clarity. When they found the perfect place to shoot the house, very near to the graves of Elisha and Jemima incidentally, the photographer took a picture. Something was wrong with the photo, so he took another. That one, too, seemed wrong. He showed his sister, and they tried a third, then a fourth, and then a fifth and a sixth. Finally, they switched to a backup camera, one that had just come back from a camera shop where it had been repaired, but the photographs that came out of the new camera were the same. It wasn’t the camera, they realised, it was the house. All of the defective photos had the same flaw, as clear and easy to spot as the house itself. There, in each image, the second storey window was glowing, as if something bright and hazy were just behind the glass.

[Closing statements]

[simonfarnabyslegs]

for the ask game: Julian, Captain and Humphrey! :)

julian

a song that reminds me of them: a cop out, since this one is canon. any time i hear "i'll make love to you," i think of him singing that at music club (and also mary going "i don't want him toooo" lol). i also feel like he would LOVE britney spears's music.

what they smell like: really expensive but really bad aftershave and too much cologne. also alcohol and sex. but the first thing you notice is the bad aftershave.

an otp: him and robin. there is no other acceptable pairing. i do think it would be funny if he and fanny had a thing though. or him and the captain (alison walks in on them doing something and the captain just yells "WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF CHAPS IN THE LIBRARY" while julian isn't even trying to keep what they were just doing a secret).

a notp: uhhh him and kitty. she's the only one i would be mad about tbh.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: the way he's like a really awful, bad-influence uncle to alison.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i can't think of one. we all generally agree that he's a hilarious bastard man and come up with stuff accordingly.

the position they sleep in: he sleeps in the exact middle of the bed, or he starts out on one side, since he's used to sharing in life, but gradually spreads out, and if anyone else tried to sleep in the same bed as him they'd be really annoyed because he always manages to hog so much space and leave them barely hanging onto the edge.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: very unoriginal, but i'd love to see a horrible histories stupid deaths segment with him.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: we've seen a couple now actually, unlike some of the other ghosts. but i really do prefer the no trousers look and anything else is slightly unsettling if i'm honest.

the captain

a song that reminds me of them: i really can't think of one. the captain isn't one of my favourite characters so i don't really think a lot about him when i listen to music. sorry.

what they smell like: weirdly, i think he smells like nothing. like. unsettlingly so. you almost want him to smell like something, but he just. doesn't. he's very clean, but he doesn't even smell like soap. it's just. an empty air smell, if you can describe it as such. he smokes, too, so you'd expect a tobacco smell or a smoke smell, but even that isn't there. this man just smells like nothing.

an otp: i don't ship him with any of the other ghosts in the house. i do think him and julian hooking up exactly one (1) time could lead to multiple hilarious comedic possibilities, but i don't want them to be in a relationship.

a notp: i saw someone shipping him with fanny and just... no. that doesn't make any sense.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: i love how he's just got that Dad Instinct. he looked at kitty and alison and went "isn't anyone going to father these young ladies?" and didn't wait for an answer.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i don't like the patcaps ship.

the position they sleep in: series 1 cap slept board-straight in the bed, almost like he was standing at attention. series 3 cap probably sleeps curled up on his side, or on his stomach, or curled up all nice and comfy.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: young wwi era cap in series 2 of downton abbey. i don't know if i'd like to see him turn up as a young man in the trenches or one of the patients at downton, or maybe as a medical officer like thomas barrow, in the lower ranks, helping out in the background.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: *gestures* this?

humphrey

a song that reminds me of them: "blue caravan" by vienna teng. after all the "mr. cheese" stuff, i got to thinking about how he probably has a lot of time to imagine the different lives he could have had if circumstances had been different, and this song is about imagining the perfect supportive, caring partner, but realising that they're not real and it's just a foolish self delusion. or perhaps a lighter, more hopeful version of the same theme, "jackie and wilson" by hozier, where the narrator once again imagines a partner and an ideal life which they haven't achieved yet, but they're still holding out for.

what they smell like: okay so tudors only bathed like once every six to eight weeks or something like that. they believed baths were bad for them. not only that, wealthy tudors' diets were appalling. so unfortunately he probably doesn't smell great. (but luckily i've never had much of a sense of smell, so.....)

an otp: him and someone who actually likes him and wants to talk to him and spend time with him. so far we haven't seen that, so for now i'll keep making up random ocs to set him up with.

a notp: him and thomas, since thomas is so horrible to him.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: i'd love to see him be yet another dad to alison, or to kitty.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i don't like the whole humphrey and jemima thing because a lot of the stuff is either really fucking uncomfortable, or the people who write it make it weird by babying jemima. she's 11-12 years old and they treat her like she's four years old and that just feels really weird to me. obviously she's a kid and she should be treated like one, but there's also such a thing as age appropriate parenting. also i'm pretty sure jemima is meant to be one of john's kids who also died of the plague so like. acting like she's all alone and hasn't got any parents or anyone at all is so confusing to me because if she's one of john's kids, she's got like twenty parents. we just don't see her with the plague ghosts because like any kid, she probably goes off and plays away from her parents during the day. anyway.

the position they sleep in: when he was alive i feel like he would fall asleep in a normal position, on his back or on his side, but when his valet or whoever went to wake him up in the morning, he was always like, hanging off the bed or laying at a weird angle and they were always like "how the fuck did he even get like that." in death, like. his head just sleeps however it was set down or dropped. and i'm a fan of your headcanon that the body just collapses wherever it is when his head falls asleep.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: forgive me for saying downton abbey again but i'm doing a rewatch with one of my friends. i'm gonna throw him into the edwardian era as some random gentleman cousin and he and lady edith are going to be poor, pitiful, unlucky-in-love besties who bond over all the ridiculously tragic shit that's happened to them and how they always get bullied or left out of things.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: he technically only has one outfit (damn the bbc for putting the whole costuming budget into the georgian episode instead of the tudor one. /j), but i like the dressed down version where he's just in the white shirt and the breeches. he looks. very handsome. in that scene. ahem.

[katlanacross]

some cats human au headcanons

im mainly writing these to avoid my cats cult au jkabdianshs

•mistoffelees has black and white split dyed hair that he did himself, it comes out uneven most of the times and it drives alonzo up the wall

•tugger and munkustrap share somewhat of the same style except munkustrap is more goth while tugger is punk

•speaking of munkustrap, he likes to wear harnesses (no i won’t elaborate)

•thanks to demeter and bombalurina, rumpleteazer, victoria, cassandra, jemima, and electra all like lana del rey. they’ll sometimes get together and have jam sessions

•e-boy mistoffelees enough said

•mistoffelees likes to raid alonzo’s closet, at first he thought it was annoying but now he thinks it’s cute how his little brother likes to barrow his clothes

•rumpleteazer has a secret love for beanie babies that only mungojerrie and demeter know about. she also has a certain platypus one that’s a comfort item that she carries around with her

•tugger went through a scene phase when he was younger and there’s some days where munkustrap won’t let him live it down

•bombaluria is somewhat of a fashion icon amongst the jellice house. one time she wore a fishnet hooded cropped shirt over a solid color tank top and a week later all of the girls (including tugger and mungojerrie) were also wearing it

•victoria is a pastel goth

•after months of plato, alonzo, mistoffelees, tumblebrustus, and electra’s begging munkustrap to join their dnd game he caves and joins in for one game, he’s been the dungeon master for all their other games since

•every month the jellice house has a movie night where they all get together and try to agree on a movie to watch (whatever old deuteronomy picks usually goes). munkustrap goes out of his way to invite grizabella to join. she never joins, but he still invites her hoping one day she will

feel free to add on!!