Loremen Podcast - S3 Ep69: Loremen S3 Ep69 - The Midnight Library 2 - The Ghost of Harry Main

Episode Date: June 3, 2021

This is the Midnight Library 2: Electric Boogaloo AKA The Midnight Library Returns: Electric Boogalurns. Miranda Merrick and Mr Darling make their way to merry olde England and cause a right old fuss. Miranda shares the tale of Harry Main, a distinctly land-based pirate with a side-line animal disguises. Oh, and if you ever dig a hole in Ipswich, Massachusetts – watch out for cats, mate. Loreboys nether say die! Support the Loremen here (and get stuff): patreon.com/loremenpod ko-fi.com/loremen @loremenpod www.twitch.tv/loremenpod www.instagram.com/loremenpod www.facebook.com/loremenpod @JamesShakeshaft | @MisterABK

Welcome to Lawmen, a podcast about local legends and obscure curiosities from days of yore. I'm Alistair Beckett-King. And I'm James Shakeshaft. And in this episode, we are joined by Miranda Merrick of the Midnight Library podcast. Yeah. This is our second collaboration. Is it still a collaboration if it's under duress? What's a more crimey version of collaboration?

Home invasion? Yeah, it was kind of like that. And we hear a tale from the land of North America. It's the land where people are walking there. So what was that? They're walking there. The Americans are walking there. So what was that? They're walking there. The Americans are walking, are they? Some of them.

Alistair. James, hello. Alistair, why... You seem very tense. What's going on? Why did you invite the Midnight Library crew? I didn't invite them, I thought you invited them I didn't invite, I didn't even know that they could travel I thought there was meant to be a travel ban or something

Yeah, I thought coronavirus had kept us safe Miranda Merrick has turned up on my doorstep At the stroke of midnight Which is four hours past my bedtime Yeah There was a crack of thunder, whiff of sulphur Was that you or her? Gentleman never tells.

We've had Mr Darling around our place. He's been awful. He didn't eat any of the salad I offered him or any fruit. Wouldn't touch his nuts. That's not what I've heard. Miranda has this tiny, tiny little weird woman called Irma and she... I don't know if it's gibbers or jibbers, but

it's terrifying. They've got their own hand-crocheted double slanket. What? But one side's got a tiny little arm for it. That's a very small double slanket. Well, one side's small, the other side's standard. Oh, yeah, a tapering slanket. Yes, it's off-putting.

It's uncanny. That's unheimlich. Yes, definitely. I carried in one of the suitcases and it slithered. It's full of snakes. What? The suitcase was full of snakes. Why are people still travelling with snakes? Have the films on that very subject taught us

nothing? What, you mean Snake Death Travel 3? Snakes, please? Yeah, that is exactly the film I'm thinking of. It's a classic. I preferred two. Anyway, I think they're leaving soon because I heard Mr Darling say something about a rare book. So do you have any idea where they are now? Yeah, they're drinking what they call tea,

but I'll tell you what, they put the milk in first. They're having it in the guest house. Do you mean the shed? Yeah. How were your accommodations, Mr Darling, at Mr Beckett King's? I'd say accommodations, Mr. Darling, at Mr. Beckett King's? I'd say mixed, madam. He was quite amiable, but his lady friend told me to get down off the couch. And he kindly kept offering me a hot bath, even though I explained I had just had one the winter before last.

How were you received? Well, I don't think they get many guests in the Shake Shaft household. You should have seen the shocked looks on their faces when they saw me on the doorstep. James quickly offered to show me to their guest suite. How refined. What was it like? Well, you're sitting in it. What do you think? You and our little Irma spent the night in this shed? Yes, and I had to shoo all of my holiday snakes into one suitcase just so Irma had somewhere to sleep.

Not everyone is as polished at hosting as we are, madam. No wonder they don't get many guests, Mr. Darling. Yes, Mr. Darling. Hello, gentlemen. Won't you please come in? Absolutely. Mr. Darling's gone for a stroll in the local forest, and Irma is still asleep after a restless night. Come into my humble abode, won't you?

My shed. Do we have to be quiet to avoid waking Irma? Because she looks really comfy in that slanket. She's a sound sleeper, I promise you. But you don't want to disturb her, that's for certain. I think she's disturbing me. Yeah, I don't want to be so disturbed by her.

James, thank you so much for putting us up in these remarkable accommodations. Yeah. I see you've made a little sort of nest there. Yes. Is that real bat wing? We've had a rather quiet night.

Only, you know, a little scratching. You don't have rats by any chance in this shed, do you? Oh, there's a mild zombie baby problem. They're not rats, no. No, I wouldn't look into that at all. No. Or think about it. Okay, well, you may have fewer rats when I leave.

That's a nice bonus then. Don't worry about leaving any money for, you know... Oh, I wasn't going to. Oh. Well, utilities, James. Yeah, there's electricity and standing water. Standing water? Like a water butt? Are you charging for butt use? That's outrageous. You've got to. You've got to these days. It's a creator economy.

Who can afford not to? Well, it's lovely, for want of a better word, to see you again, Miranda. Oh, well, thank you very much. While we're here, you could tell us a story and we could, I suppose, rate it according to the lawmen scoring system. Yeah, the arbitrary. As it happens, I believe I know a story or two by heart that I could share with you. And then you could pull your little rating system on me and we could all have a happy time. How does that sound? Splendid.

Cool. have a happy time. How does that sound? Splendid. Cool. Well, dearest lore men, I have brought for you the true story of the ghost of Harry Maine. And it has nearly everything a perfect story should. History, mystery, murder, pirates, ghosts, hidden treasure, and a load of attacking cats. hidden treasure, and a load of attacking cats. I say nearly perfect by reason that it takes place in the 1600s, so sex, aliens, and car chases weren't yet a theme. Our story takes place in the enchanting old maritime town of Ipswich, Massachusetts, which was originally called Agawam when it was founded in 1633. From the start, Ipswich, being only 11 miles from Salem, has ever since been fraught with tales of devils, witches, vampires, and ghosts. Might I suggest here that we all book a nice long vacation there soon? It sounds like home. I had high hopes initially that the town known as Ipswich might be

affectionately named after a person or a demon named Ip who had their very own personal witch, but as of now, this is yet to bear out. Just one of the old seafaring town's claims to fame is that of its giant golden cock. I guess I'll continue. The town has a treasured possession, a large gilded rooster or weathercock, that has been proudly anchored to the steeple of every church built there since the 1700s. This was a directive set by 9th century Pope John VIII for reasons, I guess. I would have bet they'd have chosen a dove.

But those church-bound folks get up to all kinds of unpredictable things, I've heard. Anyway, the golden cock weighs 40 pounds, which is a sentence I have never had cause to say before. which is a sentence I have never had cause to say before. In the year 1761, Harry Maine and a friend of his, Andrew Diamond, moved to the coastal town of Ipswich to try to further their luck as fishermen. The two men were friends, but not business partners. As luck would have it, Andrew Diamond's fish-catching career flourished, while Harry Maines' fishing efforts floundered. Diamond became popular with the townspeople. His

fishing business was a success. He contributed to the design and building of several of Ipswich's new wharfs, and even became the co-owner of a fleet of merchant ships that bolstered the town's gainful trade business with other states and the United Kingdom. Harry Maine became jealous, then embittered, then evil, crooked, and malicious. Instead of just asking his friend for a few fishing tips, he embraced a new philosophy of felony. He began stealing from the townsfolk. Then he became a kind of shorebound pirate, what was known as a wrecker.

One who paddles out to marooned or wrecked ships, then ransacks and plunders them for anything of value. Soon, this was not enough for Horrible Harry. He became what's known as a Moon Cusser, a breed of pirate that, under cover of night, would cruelly construct bonfires just ever so deceptively inland along the coast. These wrongly placed fires would lead the approaching goods-laden ships to believe they could come closer to the shore, thus causing them to crash upon the shallow jagged rocks of the breakers, disabling and stranding them. Another insidious method of luring ships to their ruin that Harry engaged in was to walk a horse along the shore at night whilst holding aloft what was called a Judas

Lantern. The bobbing motion of the light looked exactly like a ship, safely floating upon the inner shores much further inland, and luring the merchant ships to their doom. Once a ship had successfully crashed, Harry Maine and his henchmen would then paddle their flotilla of boats out to the wreck, and his henchmen would then paddle their flotilla of boats out to the wreck, board the waylaid ship, rob it of its cargo, and relieve its crew of any and all money and valuables. And you know as well as I do,

sometimes the worst thing a person can be is a witness. Harry knew this too, and promptly killed any hapless survivors of the dastardly shipwreck he himself had just caused. When the townspeople finally caught wind of who was behind the uptick in all of the sinking ships along their fair shore, Murderous Harry Maine and his cruel-hearted crew were tried and convicted of being moon-cussing pirates. Harry, being the ringleader, was sentenced to a special kind of punishment. He was ushered in shackles out upon the Ipswich Sandbar

and chained to a deeply buried iron stake. He was given a shovel and told to dig for all of eternity if need be. And dig he did, shouting and cussing in an uproarious fashion all who had brought him there. Now, as I'm unfamiliar with how this particular form of torture works, I rather imagine him digging enough sand to shovel into a heap to climb upon, to preserve his life each time the tide came in. But in any case, he soon drowned. Thereafter, whenever there were turbulent storms that noisily battered the coast, the locals claimed they could hear the odd sounds of Harry's curses carried upon the wind,

saying the devil is raising old Harry, and oh that's just old Harry growling again. For years and years afterward, the area was plagued with Harry's beleaguered bellows, carried on the wind. Rumors were passed around in the town that Harry's stash of gold and jewels was probably hidden somewhere. His house was broken into and his property was dug up but no treasure was ever found after this his house was sold but was said to be so haunted by strange apparitions the sounds of digging and the voice of Harry himself grumbling curses that no one would live in it and it was eventually torn down. In the town, one man who dreamed of the hidden treasure for three consecutive nights finally gathered the courage to venture out one night and try to dig for the hidden hoard.

He walked along until he came to the spot shown to him in his dreams, until he came to the spot shown to him in his dreams, and began to dig a deep pit, down in which he found an iron bar beside a stone slab. Just as he attempted to pry the massive stone upward, a drove of crazed black cats attacked and flung themselves at him, wildly hissing, clawing, and biting him, ripping his clothing and flesh. Using the hefty rod, he swung it about and fought off the herd of raging cats.

He fled the pit with his only prize, the iron rod he had found, but no treasure. Defiantly, even though he believed the bar to be the one that held Harry tied to his grave, he parsed out the pieces from it and fashioned them into door latches for several of the doors in Ipswich. Even now, Harry's ghost is said to inhabit Plum Island, where on some nights a persistent digging of sand can be heard, along with muttered curses carried on the breeze. In a festive end note, there was on offer a microbrew aptly named The Ghost of Harry Main Beer,

although I don't know if it's still available due to complaints of salty, fishy background notes and a sandy grit that could never seem to be cleared from the drinker's throat. I know piloting a ship is difficult, but it's check where you stop just sailing it towards lights and crashing. At some point, at some point, learn from that that people can trick you about where lighthouses are. Can't you tell the difference between a guy with a torch and a lighthouse? Yeah, they've really got a summit of the moth about them, don't they, these captains? I can safely sail towards that forever. Oh no, I'm foundering upon rocks again. Yes.

How does this keep happening? Because of that strategy. It causes more problems than it solves. I liked his tricks though. I did like old Harry Maines tricks. I really liked the horsey one, where he was on the horsey because it resembled a boat. Yes, wasn't that brilliant?

They tricked the horse into walking along with a lantern out in front of it and being part of the crime. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I suppose the horse is... The horse is an accessory, absolutely. Because ignorance is not a defence, is it? So the horse is part of... Yeah.

I think the horse would have been got in contempt of court for either going... ..at any of the charges or doing a big horse boo in a courtroom. I mean, they can only really say nay, so it's perfect for denying. Yeah. I thought we might start with names. A man named Harry Main.

In my mind, that conjures up a strong lion with a hairy mane. Yeah. Oh. Like a hairy mane. Like a hairy mane. Harry sounds a lot like harry in an american accent doesn't it i didn't really realize that yeah do americans think the film is called dirty hairy like it's just a list of descriptions of clint eastwood dirty comma hairy you know

bigfoot and the henderson's in america is called harry and the henderson's i see now why he's called harry because he's hairy i It's a pun. I've just got it. I've just got it. This is blowing my mind. Yeah. Hairy in the Henry sense. It does sound the same. Hairy.

I didn't know there was a difference. In English or correct accent, the difference would be Harry and hairy. It's a very different vowel sound. Look at that. You have to be really, really posh to make that be the same word. Wow. Harry. Harry. Harry. Which one are you saying? Which one are you saying? Harry or Harry? Yes, which?

Dirty Harry. And of course, you know, his friend was Andrew Diamond. I like the Diamond geezer. Andrew Diamond. Andrew Diamond. I'm a legitimate businessman now. Nah, nah, sorry, Harry. You're not getting a penny from me.

We're going to catch the biggest fish you've ever seen, my darling. Bring me an horse that walks like a boat. Those sea muppets don't know what they're doing. It's all about land piracy All the spoils Don't even get your ankles wet Beautiful What other names were there?

I mean those are obviously two cracking names Well we had moon cussing Moon cussing pirates That's nice It's like the opposite of sun worship isn't it? So is it moon cussing because they can only Go about their dastardly business when there's no moon? Yeah. So whenever the moon comes out, they're like, oh, you again.

And then we had the Judas lantern. Oh, that's also really good. The Judas lantern. I would say it's, I think it might be a five. I think it's a five. Yeah. It may just be a light on the shore that looks like a five, but I'm sailing straight towards it. Yeah, I'm getting right over there.

My next category, I thought about ambient atmosphere because we had the nice, spooky New England town, which was Ipswich. We've got Harry's haunted house. We've got the pit of pussycats, let's not forget. Yeah, which has a different vibe to it as a name, but it's Haunted House. We've got the Pit of Pussycats, let's not forget. Yeah, which has a different vibe to it as a name, but it's certainly got ambience. And let's not forget the Golden Cockbedeck Churches. We have those as well. Let us not forget that.

Oh, and the dreary coast strewn with corpses. So what do you think of the ambient atmosphere of my story? It's definitely damp. It's got a lovely H.P. Lovecraft vibe, but without any of the weird politics or racism, which I am thrilled about. So that's very welcome. Rather pleased myself about that.

No big penguins, though. No. No big weird penguins. Yes, no cyclopean penguins. Albino penguins, that's what Lovecraft's penguins are. Which are definitely very white. He ought to love those penguins. We also had Plum Island, which sounds quite nice.

And the Ipswich Sandbar, upon which lovely old Harry drowns. Yeah, that's on a misty night night hearing the sound of digging of sand as the waves crash in. Yeah, it's got a real atmosphere, definitely. Mm-hmm. I did find it interesting that that was a decree from the Pope that a giant golden cock would be placed on top

of the churches. I think the Pope's tried to sort of bring a bit of levity by getting those shiny bright church decorations. Yeah, I'm leaning to the low end as well here because I think it sounds great and I'd really like to visit. If anything, I'm attracted to the area rather than... Yeah, I love cats. Boy, have we got a place for you.

I've jumped over the cock on top of St Mary's Church, by the way, the weather vane. You've jumped... How can you jump over a weather vane? Yes. Well, what they did, it was being taken down for cleaning by someone and he so he brought it into the local primary school and we all got lined up to jump over it so that we could say that we jumped over the weather how did your school anticipate that you were going to end up in a bargain with the devil yeah that you had to win through trickery how could they possibly have known that would happen i don't know wow what a badge of honor i think it's only a two

the spooky atmosphere because i like it too much yes i like the atmosphere that is odd reasoning okay okay we're in trouble here james all right i'll take my two my third category is uh hauntiness now is that the same as supernatural? I guess it is. I don't fancy my chances with this category because now Ipswich is loaded with haunted houses, by the way. I had learned that there are 18 haunted houses that you can visit when you go there.

Now, we know Harry's house was torn down because Harry couldn't leave it alone after he was dead and made a ruckus there and they tore it down. I like the way you've rebranded the boring old British sounding category of supernatural into the much more funky, in your face, radical American hauntiness. Hauntiness. You know like Oak Island, the stories of Oak Island and that it's below sea level or something. So when you dig down, the holes instantly fill with water. Right. It sounds like this place is like that, but with cats.

It's below the cat table. That doesn't sound natural. No, no, no. It's pretty spooky, though. That torture is quite unnatural. It's cruel and unusual. It's a bit weird that the law is against unusual punishment it's like the more you do it the less unusual it is as well so how does something go

from being unusual punishment to the usual punishment it doesn't really allow for any new punishments to break through does it this is yes this is the problem it's stifling creativity punishment wise yeah i think it should be like Dragon's Den slash Shark Tank, where you come in with your new ideas for punishment. Oh, I like that. But you're not allowed to suggest a Dragon's Den or a Shark Tank. Shark Tent. Shark Tent.

That puts you on more of an equal pegging with the shark. The shark is dangerous, but not very manoeuvrable. It sounds like something that old Hairy Main would come up with as a way to lure boats. I've got a shark tent. A shark in a wheelbarrow. This will confuse them. They'll bring their boats over here.

It's the only way to get properly nautical vibes is to put an actual giant fish in a wheelbarrow, attach a line to it and wheel it along to give it the authentic wobble. I think it's a high score for hauntiness. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Hauntiness? A house had to be knocked down because it was just too haunted. Its structural integrity was compromised by the amount of ghost. And we don't know for certain that it was knocked down with a giant wrecking ball made of a million cats clinging to each other. But I'd be prepared to

assume that is the case i think four because it was oh that's that's pretty good i was expecting more pirate ghosts from the you want you want the ghosts of the people who were killed in the piratical acts yeah to get them involved thank you it's very generous, I do believe. There is one last possibility. How about the category of cats? The cat category? Excessive. Well, it's... Excessive cats. Too many.

It was too many. They had to be beaten back with a stick. An iron bar, thank you very much. It's five for cats, too many cats. Well, thank you for your generosity regarding the number of cats my story provided. Too many, too many. Gentlemen, it's been so wonderful to spend the afternoon

with you. I wonder if I could have just a little bit of privacy, you know, to change before Mr. Darling comes back. Changing to what? I don't want to know. Let's go. Yeah, that's yours. Stay in the shed. See you. Let's make like a tree.

Get the hell out of here. I wonder if you could point us toward your local Leeho Fooks by any chance? A local what now? I think it's in Soho, isn't it? Yeah, we haven't got a branch of that out here. We haven't even... We've only got a Burger King

and that's on the roundabout. Be honest, James, that's a wimpy. Yeah. Do come in, Mr. Darling. How was your, uh, stroll in the local forest? Unprosperous, I'm afraid. They kept offering me salad and fruit at Mr. Peckett King's all evening. Can you imagine? Round about 8pm, Mr. Shakechef poked his head in the shed and asked if he could get me anything. I politely refused and only asked if perhaps Irma could have a small wasp sandwich. Do you know, he looked at me like I had nine heads, busted out laughing and wished us a good night.

If I wasn't in the habit of carrying centipedes in my purse, she'd have gone to bed hungry. As I said, madam, not everyone is as gracious and hosting as we are. Do you have the book? The Dictionary of Obsolete and Provincial Words from 1880? Yep, I've snatched it right off their bookcase. Well done, madam, well done. Right, I think they've gone. And they didn't go in a car, they just walked off down the road. What?

In the middle of the road as well. I think they've misunderstood the whole pavement sidewalk thing or something because they're going to get run over if they're not careful. And I think she was carrying a broom. She sort of looked a bit like a goth Mary Poppins. Goth Poppins? Yeah, Goth Poppins.

Goth Poppins? Yeah, Goth Poppins. It sounds like a sad serial. Well, I'm glad they're gone. Although the guest shed is full of snakes still. Was that good or bad for zombie babies? I feel like you've made the situation probably neutral for the baby, worse for yourself. We're going to find out.

We'll know. Wait, where's our copy of the Dictionary of Obsolete and Provincial Words from 1880? Fie! Those biblioclepts have purloined that goodly tome. Words cannot describe. I have no synonyms to express this frustration. This make me mad. Well, they've gone. They've gone indeed.

But for how long? I just don't know. If you like the sound of the Midnight Library, you can check out their podcast in the places where podcasts come from. It's the internet, Alistair. The internet is the internet, of course. And if you liked our half of the podcast,

you can support us on patreon.com forward slash lawmenpod. And there'll be a little bit of bonus material for Miranda on there. And I'm going to be doing some more field reports, Alistair. Yes, as lockdown lifts, James's field reporting cannot be contained. No way. There's so many fields.

And they all want reporting on. And you're not a robot. And I'm not a robot, no. You've passed captures. How often do you fail a capture? I pass those 90% of the time. If you need to know what is and is not a traffic light, come to me.

Okay.