Some stories were never supposed to be told. Stories that exist in the twilight, between science and the supernatural, between history and the form, stories that speak of terrifying things, stories that you want to hear,

stories that you need to hear, stories that will sink their teeth in and never let you go. My name is Mike Brown, and this is Pleasing Terrors.

Pleasing Terrors Podcast Episode 43

The Mermaid Returns Part 3

The Forbidden Cabinet

The street numbers have changed since the events described in this episode. The current 104 King Street is an entirely different location and has no connection to anything mentioned here.

This episode is going to be covering some very dark and disturbing parts of the history of Charleston, South Carolina.

You will also hear terms that are today considered to be racially insensitive. These are included only where it is necessary to quote historical sources accurately.

Listener discretion is advised.

In January of 1860, news of the gruesome events which had taken place inside the narrowhouse the previous summer continued to circulate through the streets of Charleston, South Carolina.

The details grew more disturbing with each retelling, as gossip was swiftly transformed into legend.

Across the Atlantic Ocean in the French village of St. Nicholas Stéau, an older legend was being reborn, as workers inside the chapel of St. Nicholas Stébyens continued restoring the fourth in a series of frescoes that told a disturbing story.

White paint had been scrubbed away to reveal the image of an enraged husband, towering over his inconsolable wife.

She had disobeyed his orders and had entered a Forbidden room where she had discovered his secret. He had murdered his previous wives and now she would be next.

She would be killed and her body hung on the wall of that awful Forbidden room, lost to recollection unless someone arrived to save her.

In the background, they saw what appeared to be another woman kneeling by an open window as if in prayer or perhaps searching for some terrestrial source of help.

Around 40 years later, under a twilight sky, writer John Bennett sat on his back porch in Charleston, talking with Walter Mayrant and Caesar Grant.

The two men had been falsely accused of stealing lumber and would have been convicted and sent to jail, but Bennett at Mayrant's request had intervened on their behalf.

Mayrant did yard work for Bennett and knew him to be more sympathetic to black folks than the average white Charlestonian.

Bennett had helped them, but he had asked for something in return.

He wanted to hear their stories. He was collecting the folklore of the city's black community, hoping to preserve it before it faded away.

So on that night, the two men had come to Bennett's home to share as many of the folk tales and legends as they could.

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