Witness testimony asserts that, on occasion, a mysterious figure may be seen perambulating across the Fellows’ Garden of Christ’s College, Cambridge. This figure, reported to be an older gentleman wearing unusually archaic clothes, is a figure of mystery – but certain documents kept by one Simon Goodridge, and uncovered after long years of neglect, suggest a potential identity. The most substantial piece in Goodridge’s archive is an account by Christopher Round, a lecturer of Christ’s College from years gone by, who composed the piece to explain a tragic event which came of his burning jealousy towards Philip Collier, a colleague of his. However, certain details in the inquest into Collier’s demise contradict Round’s account. Just how much should we trust Round’s account? Is the spectre in Fellow’s Garden is Round’s ghost, a projection born of lingering guilt? And if so, is that guilt justified or misplaced?
A.P. Baker was, himself, a lecturer at Christ’s College, and knows this haunted territory well – but whilst the place is real, and vividly described in his A College Mystery, the story of Christopher Round and Philip Collier and the apparition of Fellow’s Garden is all Baker’s invention. Having become disabled as a result of sporting injuries in his early twenties, Baker can’t have had a very easy life – his early death at the age of 45 in 1919, shortly after the publication of this novella, may well have been the long-term consequence of this.
A repeated theme of characters in failing health putting their affairs in order hangs over the story; Collier, Round, and Mary Clifford, the noble widow who charms them both and becomes yet another cause for Round’s jealousy of Collier, all seem to see their deaths coming. There is also a theme of heroic sacrifice misunderstood, something which was likely on Baker’s mind: as well as dedicating the book to Christ’s College men who had died in World War I, the closing epilogue of the book that relates on the most recent manifestations of the ghost touches on the fact that Cadets were boarded in Christ’s College, as the usual business of Oxbridge colleges was pushed aside by the need to contribute to the war effort. Collier, himself, turns out to have been making sacrifices of his own – their nature misinterpreted by Round.
Another Cambridge contempory of Baker’s was none other than M.R. James himself, who appears to have enjoyed A College Mystery and offered feedback on it; a coy reference to this appears at the start of the book, though Baker credits James as “the Provost of Eton”. This is in keeping with Baker’s overall approach with the novella – because, though it draws on the Jamesian tradition, Baker goes further than James ever did in terms of investing things with a sense of verisimilitude. Since Baker was setting the story in his own place of residence, he is able to draw heavily on reality for the locations, and he goes further than this by framing the story as though he were merely editing-together a set of pre-existing documents and witness testimony in order to chronicle a “real” ghost story.
It would have likely been evident to most of those in Baker’s immediate circle that it was merely a story, and attentive readers would pick up on hints like the nod to M.R. James and draw the right conclusion, but it does seem like the story was taken by some as being genuine, which is testimony to Baker’s ability to accurately capture the tone of the sort of sources he purports to be drawing on. In addition, he weaves in certain real events – in particular, research being undertaken at the time of Round and Collier’s tragedy by real-life individuals proves to be relevant to the story, perhaps providing a further ring of authenticity.
Baker applies the supernatural here with a very light touch, but there are certain things about the novella which linger troublingly once things are done. The question of how exactly Collier died seems to be a curious one, since it is hard to reconcile Round’s confession with the facts related at the coroner’s inquest, but at the same time Round’s account is so vivid that it is difficult to write it off as a mere delusion born of feverish delirium (Round falls ill at around the same time as Collier’s death). It is not impossible that both accounts are somewhat true – but if so, the question of how Collier was able to be where he was found the next morning compared to the last place Round saw him is cause for disquiet.
Furthermore, Round is able to discover – or to at least think he has discovered – a scandalous thing about Collier as the result of a curious coincidence, namely Collier’s door being damaged in a weirdly specific way just when Round is trying to get in to see Collier. Had Round not made this discovery, perhaps things would not have gone to the extreme that they did. One is tempted to look to see if a hidden hand were in some respect at work here.
Although it is by now in the public domain, so far as I am aware no Project Gutenberg-like free version of A College Mystery circulates. It has been reprinted from time to time, and is available on Kindle for less than £1; my own hard copy was a version sent out to accompany the limited edition hardcover of There Is a Graveyard That Dwells In Man; as with that collection, it comes with some brief biographical notes on Baker by Mark Valentine some thoughts on the text by David Tibet, so perhaps Tibet had considered it for inclusion in Graveyard only to decide that space considerations didn’t allow it.
It’s a shame that A College Mystery is not better known, and a greater shame that Baker did not survive to write more fuction, but at least the ebook version means the story remains somewhat available, because it’s a well-honed little gem; I put it on a similar level to another obscure short horror novel set around a Cambridge college, The Devil’s Looking-Glass.
Jumbled Thoughts of a Fake Geek Boy 