by M. Shaw
Reprinted from The Jefferson Inquisitor, 23 March, 1873
Written by Lucille Edith Kilbeggan – annotated by M. Shaw
I have many a time received inquiry regarding the servants retained by my husband’s estate, and ever more often since the war between the states. Never before have I shared our method, which is jealously guarded by my family and has been over generations beyond count. Only having beheld the suffering of the many honest farmers of the county[1] am I now compelled to break with tradition. A chivalrous, Christian way of life[2] must endure for the sake of our children. I pray the readers of this publication will use the following recipes in good faith and godly intention, and that the benefits once reserved for my own clan be visited herewith upon us all.
To begin with, the arms and legs must be cleanly separated from the original torso[3], without use of a bone-saw. The length of the remaining flesh is unimportant so long as the tops of the leg and arm bones are preserved.
Within the day, prepare the following mixture:
- Ten pounds good, rich earth in which the chrysopoeia is known to grow[4]
- Ten pounds bone meal, obtained in the usual way[5]
- Six pounds freshly ground red meat
Mix the soil and fill halfway five pots; four large, one small. Reserve an additional large pot. In the large pots with the soil, place the removed limbs with the bone pointed downward, and fill then the pots the rest of the way.
The head must be preserved similarly, but its removal must include the full extraction of the spine bones, this process being all the more delicate as a result. A pair of simple garden shears may suffice; to remove any larger obstructions[6], a hedge shear or bone saw may be used in this case. So removed, the head shall then be planted in the remaining large pot, spine bones coiled for fit, filled in with soil along the way.
As to the smaller pot and its contents, I say only that some matters are unbecoming to speak of in polite society.[7]
The limbs and head must be watered diligently, as one would for potted pansies. If done properly, through the grace of God, they will take root in a matter of weeks.
During this period, obtain an empty barrel of the size used for salting. Wash out the inside, then find drills equal in size to the potted extremities. Bore sockets in the barrel, positioned appropriate to their eventual counterparts.
After no less than one month, on the next new moon time, prepare the following mixtures for the attachment of the flesh:
Joining mixture:
- Four pounds of clay from the county’s own ground
- A proportional quantity of silver salts of the kind used by daguerreotypists[8]
- The ground kidneys of a goose
- One half pound of powdered lime
Sealant:
- Two pounds tar pitch
- One pound kidney stone[9]
Spread joining mixture inside each hole, such that it covers the full circumference of each with like thickness. Join the potted extremities securely to the barrel and seal. Remove the lid and halfway fill the barrel with sea water. The other half, fill with matter of your choosing, be it of animal, vegetable, or mineral nature. Your choices will weigh upon the character of your servant.
Do not replace the barrel lid. Instead, return the head to its pot with the lid still attached.
Leave the barrel to warm several days in the sun. Take its temperature each morning using a mercury-in-glass; when it reaches to just below one hundred Fahrenheits, add to the mixture three ounces baker’s yeast and some quantity of bull’s milk[10]. Move the barrel to a barn or cellar. Each morning, check for mold on the surface and skim it away in a sieve. The fleshy skin that accumulates, however, must be stirred back into the mixture.
Seal the barrel when the content bubbles consistently, almost as if boiling, but use a fresh lid. Leave in place nine months. After which time, remove the lid, examine the contents, and confirm the Lord’s plan[11]. If all is well, remove the head from its pot. Rub the spine bones in oil of pepper and reseal the barrel with everything in its proper place. Let sit overnight.
Some words of caution to the modestly inclined: you may find yourself ashamed to behold the servant in this bare state, being of good Christian breeding. Remember that, while Man himself is made in the image of our Lord, your servant is merely a simulacrum made in the image of Man. Its station lies below even that of the lower animals. You do not sin to look upon it any more than you would to look upon your supper.
Nevertheless, you may wish to alleviate your natural discomfort through a simple drape of broadcloth. You need only a ring cut to size for the top of the barrel, with its hole large enough for the servant’s head, stitched to a sheet long enough to cover a man’s shame.
At daybreak, place a hand to the servant’s forehead to see that it is warm. To awaken, feed into the mouth several dozen live ants. The servant may be awakened on a diet of other small creatures if necessary, but be wary that, owing to their character, ants are the key to my own servants’ total loyalty and tireless will to work. Bees will work similarly, but require caution. Birds are not to be used, as the awakened servant will attack any others it might behold.
Finally, engrave the Mark of Cyprian[12] upon the front of the barrel.
The servant may take several hours to awaken fully. Give it time to come to its senses, just as you would a newborn calf. It should be able to stand by day’s end, and thereafter to perform any duties you wish.
If you have followed my instructions to the letter, you will find yourself in possession of the most docile staff you have ever retained. Your servant will obey without question even to the point of its own expiration, and most likely will never utter a single sound. It will live for as much as twenty-four years, if my own household’s records are of any indication. It will eat indiscriminately as a goat does, providing a convenient outlet for the disposal of refuse. The Lord willing, you will find its obedience superior even to that of [redacted].[13]
[1] Where exactly The Jefferson Inquisitor might have been printed and circulated is a matter of debate. Surviving copies are dated between 1815 and 1896. The author’s “war between the states” reference would seem to indicate somewhere in the southern states during the American Civil War, but copies of the paper have been discovered in Union and Confederacy states alike. It is not even clear whether “Jefferson” is the name of a place or a person. They have only ever been found in private collections, never in any kind of public or academic library, and only in North America. Most editions consist of a single broadsheet.
[2] Material printed in the Inquisitor covers an eccentric range of topics, but frequently touches on what would have been considered nonstandard religious practices at the time. This profession of a “Christian way of life” despite a lack of clear link to normative Christian pedagogy is far from unheard of in its pages.
[3] At no point does the author specify what “the original torso” refers to; presumably a human body, but it is unclear where the reader was meant to obtain the body, or whether it was meant to be alive or dead at the time of amputation.
[4] “Chrysopoeia” is a term normally referring to the alchemical transmutation of base metals into gold. This and other Inquisitor articles suggest that it may also have been a folk name for a plant or fungus, or even a species of insect larva. Other articles suggest it might be gathered in horse stables or slaughterhouses.
[5] Again, the author omits necessary context. “The usual way” of obtaining bone meal may have been known to regular readers of The Inquisitor, but it is not explained in any surviving edition of the paper. It must be noted, however, that this article does not mention anything else to be done with the rib cage or pelvic bone, which would provide the requisite weight if taken from a human adult.
[6] “Larger obstructions” likely refers to the rib cage. Since the author specifies only the spinal bones to be preserved, the smaller shears would have been used to cut blood vessels, nerves, and muscle tissue.
[7] I gather the author is talking about sex organs. I’d prefer not to speculate about why these would be included.
[8] This is the author’s furthest-reaching assumption yet. It’s taken for granted that the average reader would already know the correct ratio of silver salts (presumably silver nitrate) to mix with clay, as though this were a common practice with other familiar uses. This might refer to a recipe in an earlier, as yet undiscovered edition of the Inquisitor. Silver nitrate is not a common additive to clay in any other known capacity.
[9] This would require a large volume of kidney stones, which typically weigh only a few grams. The term might also refer to malachite, which was sometimes called “kidney stone” by layfolk and was believed to protect unborn children from evil spirits. However, it would be unwise to fully discount the possibility that she literally means kidney stones and had some way of procuring them in quantity.
[10] For the record, I regret having researched this slang, so please take me at my word when I tell you that it does mean what you think it means.
[11] As best I can tell, the author is instructing the reader to check that the contents of the barrel have somehow transformed into those of a human torso. I would like to point out that this is impossible, but I also have to admit that I have not personally tested her method and I frankly hope that nobody ever will.
[12] This likely refers to Cyprian of Antioch. Cyprian was believed to be a sorcerer with the ability to summon and command demons or djinni, who converted to Christianity before his martyrdom. His historical existence is apocryphal at best. The earliest surviving record of his supposed life appears in the work of Symeon the Metaphrast, a Byzantine hagiographer with a penchant for fabricating people and histories wholesale. As to what the actual “Mark of Cyprian” might look like, I have found no clues.
[13] There are terms I prefer not to reproduce even in the name of historical accuracy, but given the author’s apparent ethnicity and social caste, as well as the date of original publication, you can probably guess. Her final word is a stark reminder that while her claims of necromancy are a matter of speculation, the systems and social attitudes that produced them are not.
~
Bio:
M. Shaw (they/them) writes fiction, poetry, and the odd piece of creative nonfiction. Their novella ‘One Hand to Hold, One Hand to Carve’ (Tenebrous Press) received the 2022 Wonderland Book Award, and made the preliminary ballot for the Bram Stoker Award. Their short story collection ‘All Your Friends Are Here’ is forthcoming in Fall 2024, also from Tenebrous Press. They are a 2019 graduate of the Clarion Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers’ Workshop, as well as a past organizer of the Denver Mercury Poetry Slam. Their website is mshawesome.com. They live in Arvada, Colorado.
Philosophy Note:
Speculative fiction frequently grapples with the question of cost, in terms of everything from magic to advanced technology. When people seek to transcend the limits of our human existence, what does such power demand of us, what sacrifices does it require? I have always been most drawn to work that explores this question from the standpoint that the power itself is the cost; that magic or technology’s true cost is how easy it makes it to exercise our worst impulses.
