“The Thing in the Moonlight” is based on a letter that Lovecraft wrote to Donald
Wandrei on 24 November 1927. The story surrounding Lovecraft’s description of his dream was
written by J. Chapman Miske and published in the January 1941 issue of Bizarre.
Letter to Donald Wandrei
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“The Thing in the Moonlight”
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My dreams occasionally approach’d the phantastical
in character, tho’ falling somewhat short of coherence. One scene is especially
stamp’d upon my recollection—that of a dank, fœtid, reed-choak’d
marsh under a grey autumn sky, with a rugged cliff of lichen-crusted stone rising to the
north. Impell’d by some obscure quest, I ascended a rift or cleft in this beetling
precipice, noting as I did so the black mouths of many fearsome burrows extending from both
walls into the depths of the stony plateau. |
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Morgan is not a literary man; in fact he cannot speak English with any
degree of coherency. That is what makes me wonder about the words he wrote, though others have
laughed.
He was alone the evening it happened. Suddenly an
unconquerable urge to write came over him, and taking pen in hand he wrote the following:
My name is Howard Phillips. I live at 66 College Street, in
Providence, Rhode Island. On November 24, 1927—for I know not even what the year
may be now—, I fell asleep and dreamed, since when I have been unable to
awaken.
My dream began in a dank, reed-choked
marsh that lay under a gray autumn sky, with a rugged cliff of lichen-crusted stone rising to
the north. Impelled by some obscure quest, I ascended a rift or cleft in this beetling
precipice, noting as I did so the black mouths of many fearsome burrows extending from both
walls into the depths of the stony plateau. |
At several points the passage was roof’d over by the choaking of
the upper parts of the narrow fissure; these places being exceedingly dark, & forbidding
the perception of such burrows as may have existed there. In one such dark space I felt
conscious of a singular accession of fright, as if some subtile & bodiless emanation from
the abyss were ingulphing my spirit; but the blackness was too great for me to perceive the
source of my alarm. |
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At several points the passage was roofed
over by the choking of the upper parts of the narrow fissure; these places being exceeding
dark, and forbidding the perception of such burrows as may have existed there. In one such
dark space I felt conscious of a singular accession of fright, as if some subtle and bodiless
emanation from the abyss were engulfing my spirit; but the blackness was too great for me to
perceive the source of my alarm. |
At length I emerg’d upon a table-land of moss-grown rock & scanty
soil, lit up by a faint moonlight which had replac’d the expiring orb of day. Casting my
eyes about, I beheld no living object; but was sensible of a very peculiar stirring far below
me, amongst the whispering rushes of the pestilential swamp I had lately quitted. |
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At length I emerged upon a tableland of
moss-grown rock and scanty soil, lit by a faint moonlight which had replaced the expiring orb
of day. Casting my eyes about, I beheld no living object; but was sensible of a very peculiar
stirring far below me, amongst the whispering rushes of the pestilential swamp I had lately
quitted. |
After walking for some distance, I encounter’d the rusty tracks of
a street-railway, & the worm-eaten poles which still held the limp & sagging trolley
wire. Following this line, I soon came upon a yellow, vestibuled car numbered
1852—of a plain, double-trucked type common from 1900 to 1910. It was untenanted,
but evidently ready to start; the trolley being on the wire & the air-brake pump now and
then throbbing beneath the floor. I boarded it & looked vainly about for the light
switch—noting as I did so the absence of controller handle which implied the brief
absence of the motorman. Then I sat down in one of the cross seats toward the middle,
awaiting the arrival of the crew & the starting of the vehicle. Presently I heard a
swishing in the sparce grass toward the left, & saw the dark forms of two men looming up
in the moonlight. They had the regulation caps of a railway company, & I could not doubt
but that they were the conductor & motorman. Then one of them sniffed with
singular sharpness, & raised his face to howl to the moon. The other dropped on all fours
to run toward the car. |
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After walking for some distance, I
encountered the rusty tracks of a street railway, and the worm-eaten poles which still held
the limp and sagging trolley wire. Following this line, I soon came upon a yellow, vestibuled
car numbered 1852—of a plain, double-trucked type common from 1900 to 1910. It
was untenanted, but evidently ready to start; the trolley being on the wire and the air-brake
now and then throbbing beneath the floor. I boarded it and looked vainly about for the light
switch—noting as I did so the absence of the controller handle, which thus implied
the brief absence of the motorman. Then I sat down in one of the cross seats of the vehicle.
Presently I heard a swishing in the sparse grass toward the left, and saw the dark forms of
two men looming up in the moonlight. They had the regulation caps of a railway company, and I
could not doubt but that they were conductor and motorman. Then one of them sniffed
with singular sharpness, and raised his face to howl to the moon. The other dropped on all
fours to run toward the car. |
I leaped up at once & raced madly out of that car & away across
endless leagues of plateau till exhaustion waked me—doing this not because the
conductor had dropped on all fours, but because the face of the motorman was a mere white cone
tapering to one blood-red tentacle. . . . |
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I leaped up at once and raced madly out
of that car and across endless leagues of plateau till exhaustion forced me to
stop—doing this not because the conductor had dropped on all fours, but because
the face of the motorman was a mere white cone tapering to one
blood-red-tentacle. . . . |
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I was aware that I only dreamed, but the
very awareness was not pleasant. |
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Since that fearful night, I have prayed
only for awakening—it has not come! |
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Instead I have found myself an
inhabitant of this terrible dream-world! That first night gave way to dawn, and I
wandered aimlessly over the lonely swamp-lands. When night came, I still wandered, hoping for
awakening. But suddenly I parted the weeds and saw before me the ancient railway
car—and to one side a cone-faced thing lifted its head and in the streaming
moonlight howled strangely! |
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It has been the same each day. Night
takes me always to that place of horror. I have tried not moving, with the coming of
nightfall, but I must walk in my slumber, for always I awaken with the thing of dread howling
before me in the pale moonlight, and I turn and flee madly. |
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God! when will I awaken? |
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That is what Morgan wrote. I would go to
66 College Street in Providence, but I fear for what I might find there. |
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