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Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family - H. Lovecraft

Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family

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Once upon a time, in the captivating land of England, where noble families flourished and majestic tales were spun, lived the renowned Sir Arthur Jermyn. The lineage of this distinguished British nobleman could be traced back to an extraordinary lineage filled with adventurers, the very essence that shaped the destiny of this extraordinary man.

Within the depths of this ancestry, we encounter the remarkable and determined Sir Wade Jermyn, whose spirit of exploration led him to embark on a remarkable expedition to the enigmatic region of Congo. Sir Wade's written accounts of an undiscovered white civilization nestled within the heart of the Congo were met with skepticism and disdain. Unfortunately, this unjust reception led to his tragic downfall, as he was forcibly committed to an asylum in the year 1765.

Interestingly, it is here that H.P. Lovecraft weaves a captivating narrative, revealing the peculiar physical traits that manifested in the subsequent generations of the Jermyn lineage. These unusual features, which seemed to possess an otherworldly allure, sprouted within the progeny of Sir Wade Jermyn and his enigmatic, slyly reclusive wife - a woman of Portuguese descent, according to Sir Wade's claims.

The echoes of Sir Wade's discoveries reverberate through time, as the Jermyn family's fascinating lineage becomes entwined with tales of mystery and secrets yet to be unveiled. From the noble heart of England, their story unfolds, captivating all who dare venture into the depths of this grand narrative.

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I

Life is a hideous thing, and from the background behind what we know of it peer daemoniacal hints of truth which make it sometimes a thousandfold more hideous. Science, already oppressive with its shocking revelations, will perhaps be the ultimate exterminator of our human species – if separate species we be – for its reserve of unguessed horrors could never be borne by mortal brains if loosed upon the world. If we knew what we are, we should do as Sir Arthur Jermyn did; and Arthur Jermyn soaked himself in oil and set fire to his clothing one night. No one placed the charred fragments in an urn or set a memorial to him who had been; for certain papers and a certain boxed object were found which made men wish to forget. Some who knew him do not admit that he ever existed.

Arthur Jermyn went out on the moor and burned himself after seeing the boxed object which had come from Africa. It was this object, and not his peculiar personal appearance, which made him end his life. Many would have disliked to live if possessed of the peculiar features of Arthur Jermyn, but he had been a poet and scholar and had not minded. Learning was in his blood, for his great-grandfather, Sir Robert Jermyn, Bt., had been an anthropologist of note, whilst his great – great-great-grandfather, Sir Wade Jermyn, was one of the earliest explorers of the Congo region, and had written eruditely of its tribes, animals, and supposed antiquities. Indeed, old Sir Wade had possessed an intellectual zeal amounting almost to a mania; his bizarre conjectures on a prehistoric white Congolese civilisation earning him much ridicule when his book, Observation on the Several Parts of Africa, was published. In 1765 this fearless explorer had been placed in a madhouse at Huntingdon.

Madness was in all the Jermyns, and people were glad there were not many of them. The line put forth no branches, and Arthur was the last of it. If he had not been, one can not say what he would have done when the object came. The Jermyns never seemed to look quite right – something was amiss, though Arthur was the worst, and the old family portraits in Jermyn House showed fine faces enough before Sir Wade’s time. Certainly, the madness began with Sir Wade, whose wild stories of Africa were at once the delight and terror of his few friends. It showed in his collection of trophies and specimens, which were not such as a normal man would accumulate and preserve, and appeared strikingly in the Oriental seclusion in which he kept his wife. The latter, he had said, was the daughter of a Portuguese trader whom he had met in Africa; and did not like English ways. She, with an infant son born in Africa, had accompanied him back from the second and longest of his trips, and had gone with him on the third and last, never returning. No one had ever seen her closely, not even the servants; for her disposition had been violent and singular. During her brief stay at Jermyn House she occupied a remote wing, and was waited on by her husband alone. Sir Wade was, indeed, most peculiar in his solicitude for his family; for when he returned to Africa he would permit no one to care for his young son save a loathsome black woman from Guinea. Upon coming back, after the death of Lady Jermyn, he himself assumed complete care of the boy.

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