Kingsport 1844: Hog Island

40) Hog Island
Northeast Harbor

A) Hogg’s Land
This flat, brush-covered island was once a “tidal island” connected to the harbor by a narrow tongue of land. In 1639, Kingsport founder Malachi Hogg used the island as a farm for goats and swine. The endeavor was a miserable failure, but the name “Hogg’s Land” remained even after Malachi abandoned the farm. The causeway subsided during the earthquake of 1727, and eventually Hogg’s Land became Hog Island. In 1772, the Hoag family sold the island to the Talbots.

B) The Ruins of Talbot Hospital
As described in “A Brief History of Kingsport,” Hog Island was the site of the Talbot Inoculation Hospital for Smallpox, burned down in 1774 during the “Smallpox War.” Seventy years later, all that remains of this three-story sanitarium are blackened, weed-covered walls and a pervasive atmosphere of despair. Most locals consider it haunted, the subject of campfire stories populated by flaming lepers and spectral physicians in plague masks. Even bandits and ragpickers avoid these ruins, and anyone exploring them is likely to find rusted equipment, broken glassware, and scorched buttons and buckles.

C) Paupers’ Shame
A kind of grim, spontaneous cemetery has evolved in the center of the ruins. Bearing no formal name or official recognition, “Pauper’s Shame” is a stretch of earth holding Kingsport’s most undesirable dead. Some of the graves bear wooden signs, but most are crowded and unmarked. Penniless isolatoes found lifeless in the street, strangled drifters from Dunwich, lost sailors washed ashore at Doyle’s Rock, such bodies are carted here and unceremoniously dumped into holes. Aside these nameless strangers are souls Kingsport simply wishes to forget—overdosed whores, swaddled infanticides, the mad, the lame, the diseased, and the damned. Walking Pauper’s Shame is a depressing experience, surrounded by charred stone walls and neglected markers bearing one-word tragedies: “Adulteress,” “Bastard,” “Beloved.” There’s even a suicide surreptitiously relocated from the Catholic cemetery on Prospect Hill, a curse painted on his broken cross: “Foul THIS earth, sinner!”

D) The Wreck of the Gravesend
Another casualty of the Smallpox War was the Gravesend, the former merchantman used by Kingsport as a prison ship from 1722–1774. Anchored off the far side of Hog Island, the hulk was directly downwind from the fire. The guards began wetting the decks the moment they saw the hospital burning, but to no avail. A rain of sparks descended upon the wooden planks, and the Gravesend caught fire with twenty-eight prisoners and three guards on board. They managed to free ten of the prisoners, but after a guard fell through the burning deck to his death, the remaining prisoners were abandoned to their fate. Gathered on the shore of Hog Island, the survivors watched the Gravesend sink flaming into the harbor.

In 1842, a geological shift beneath the harbor tilted the Gravesend upwards, and its bowsprit now protrudes from the water during low tide. A few fearless divers have returned from the wreck with rusty manacles and human bones, often sold to macabre Kingsporters as mementoes of the disaster. It should go without saying that most Gravesend souvenirs sold in curio shoppes are fakes.

Urban Legends
Local legend claims that some of the trapped prisoners managed to escape immolation and drowning, and for a few years after the fire, Gravesend “fugitives” were blamed for every unsolved crime and missing article of laundry. By the turn of the century, Kingsport children were gleefully terrified by campfire stories of Puddinghead, a Gravesend bogeyman with a horribly burnt face, a hook for a hand, and an appetite for human flesh. The tale has endured to this day, especially among families dwelling in the Hollow.

Kingsport’s fascination with witches is also part of the Gravesend myth. The “diabolical” Father Rufus Cheever and the mass-suicide of his imprisoned followers is another popular campfire tale, transformed over the years from a grim historical tragedy to a gruesome ghost story—“They chewed their wrists open like trapped dogs, thinking Satan was going to save them!” It’s widely believed that some of the St. Michael’s witches were still imprisoned on the Gravesend by the time of the fire, particularly Old Mother Cawches. Escaping the sinking ship on her flying broom, she remains Kingsport’s most enduring legend, an old crone wearing a plague mask and plucking out the eyes of naughty children. (Old Mother Cawches was likely inspired by Kingsport’s historical founder, Perotine Cauchés, who was accused of witchcraft in the Channel Islands. Her great-grand-daughter Bernadette was hanged in 1692.)

E) Programmed Events
Hog Island may be reached by rowboat, but there’s little reason to visit this blasted heath. Unless, that is, you need to disturb the dead.

October 29-30: Rachel Ward’s Grave Errand, Part 3
If Rachel Ward decides to dig up a corpse on her own, Pauper’s Shame is her best option. It’s remote, unguarded, and most of the bodies aren’t protected by coffins. Rachel must secure a boat, head to the island with a shovel, and look for a marker bearing a man’s name. A successful Luck roll is required to find a corpse wound in cerements. Each failed Luck roll finds an unsuitable corpse, whether tumbled in the grave unshrouded or nailed firmly inside a coffin. The first corpse Rachel exhumes triggers a Sanity roll for a 1/1D3 loss. The second brings a Sanity roll for a 0/1 loss; after that, Rachel may add “graverobber” to her list of “bad habits.”

October 30: Graverobbing in the Name of Science! Part 2/Rachel Ward’s Grave Errand, Part 2
This scenario combines Dr. Lowell and Rachel Ward’s separate Adventure Hooks, and assumes both were instructed to appear at Maul Street Pier at 2:00 am the morning of October 31. The pier is located at the shallow eastern end of Harborside, just past the notoriously rowdy Eight Bells public house and the floating brothel, the Judy Blue. The slips here cannot support the larger vessels of the inner harbor, and feature a variety of shallops, dingeys, rowboats, and fishing boats.

Bishop Butcher and Slipsey Ward are standing near one of the rowboats. Butcher holds a lantern, while his companion grasps a gunny sack sprouting a pair of shovels. With an obscene leer, Butcher nods, “Well, if it ain’t the Professor and Ginger, here for their three hour cruise!” (Or possibly, “Well, if it ain’t Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet! I’m betting on the wrench in the conservatory.”) If only one player character is present, or if the Keeper is unwilling to break the fourth wall for a spectacular pun, Bishop’s greeting becomes a one-word sneer: “Professor,” or “Scarlet.”

It’s clear that Butcher is in charge, his baritone voice edged with mocking superiority, whether he’s bullying his wiry companion—“Row harder, ye daft Irish cunt, or I’ll use this spade to dredge up yer guts for His Nibs here. I hear a Mick’s balls suck into his belly when he faces an English aristocrat, and I’d like to see for myself!” or attempting to get a rise from Rachel and Lowell—“Eh, the dead ain’t so bad, not at first. A little fish oil solves yer main problem; have yerself a little fun while yer plucking their teeth with ol’ Clampy here”—hoisting a pair of pliers—“if ye know what I mean!” Halfway to the island, Butcher shutters the lantern and unwraps Hicksey, a human femur studded with nails—“A present from the famous pirate Albert Hicks. Well, the leg at least. I ‘et the flesh off the bone myself!”

Hog Island
As they approach Hog Island, Slipsey hops from the rowboat and drags it ashore. The crumbling ruins of the Talbot Inoculation Hospital are a short distance ahead, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by thornbushes. Fog drifts across the island, and an inch of snow lies on the ground. It’s an unnerving walk, the barren soil a palimpsest of slaughtered swine, pigshit, smallpox, and charred flesh. If the players have not heard the story of the hospital, Bishop Butcher relates it cheerfully as he walks along, laughing richly at his own embellishments—“They say that havin’ the pox makes ye randy as hell. My grandam says they found three patients charred together in the same bed, all interpenetrated-like, like one of them tavern puzzles. Just imagine that! ‘Oi, Bob, I think yer giving me the clap, it burns so bad!’ ‘Naw, Jane, that ain’t me, love! Billy’s arse is on fire!’ Now that’s some real sparking! Am I right, Scarlet?”

Disinterment
With his dubious instinct for such things, Bishop Butcher finds the most recent grave, a shallow hole covered with rocky earth. A wooden plank reads, “here lies diego silva, harpooner from imboca. died 1844.” (Keeper: the spelling errors are intentional.) The grave is located beside a crumbling, blackened wall near a row of similar planks. Farther to the right, a large pit emanates a foul odor, a mixture of human decomposition and chlorate of lime. Butcher sets the lantern on the marker and passes out perfumed handkerchiefs—“Wrap this ‘round yer phiz, like a French poof. This ain’t gonna be delicate.” He passes a shovel to Slipsey and the two get to work. Within a few minutes they strike the body, wrapped in a linen sheet and crawling with worms. Using a pair of hooks, the Ghouls drag the corpse to the surface and step back. Butcher looks at Rachel and says, “Look! All wound up like a baby! Fresh linen, too. Why, it’s yer lucky evening, love!” He tosses the spade to Lowell and adds, “Me and Slipsey gonna get us some fresh air, have a bit of this flask. Ye got an hour. Ye want the body brought back, that’s extra, and Mr. Lovejoy don’t need to know.”

Diego Salva
Unwrapping the body unleashes the stench of corruption and triggers two separate Sanity rolls. The first Sanity roll (0/1 loss) is for the odor and the sight of so much vermin—the body was buried on October 26, and is quite actively rotting! The second Sanity roll is for seeing the body itself, and costs 1D3/1D6.

At first glance, Diego Salva appears to be a muscular young man possessing a bushy black beard and full head of hair. He has several nautical tattoos and scars, nothing unusual for a harpooneer. However, his left arm is…no longer human. It’s still composed of flesh, muscle, nerve, and bone; but it’s transformed into a grotesque shape that resembles a lobster claw—or perhaps a spiny fin, or the arm of a starfish; and there’s a ridge of suction cups running along the inner forearm…

An initial investigation of Salva’s arm requires forty-five minutes, and assumes Dr. Lowell has brought along equipment such as scalpels and forceps. A Science (Biology) roll recognizes the impossibility of what he is seeing—this is mutation on a catastrophic, previously unimagined scale! A First Aid roll determines the cause of death—it seems Dr. Talbot attempted to saw through the arm at the shoulder and stopped halfway; there are saw-marks along the bone, and it’s clear Salva bled to death. A Medicine roll suggests that none of the deformations are “foreign,” but actually spring from human tissue; for instance, the chitinous material making up the claw looks like nail keratin, the spines seem to be extraordinarily thin bones, and the teeth lining the claw are human molars! Cutting open the arm reveals numerous tumorous lesions, some of which sprout clusters of fine dendrons. A second Medicine roll determines that the mutations were traveling up the arm, but didn’t reach past the shoulder. A Hard success on this roll determines that none of the mutations are postmortem; Salva’s death halted the process.

Any additional investigation requires a microscope and a chemistry set. However, if Lowell does not cover Salva’s body before the Ghouls return, the sight of the mutated arm fouls their cheerful mood. Bishop Butcher demands the corpse be burned on the spot, and is willing to physically restrain Lowell to make this happen. In order to prevent this outcome, Lowell must rewrap the body, or sever the arm and wrap it in canvas. This latter action requires nothing more than the shovel, a sharp strike carried out by a successful Strength roll, and a resulting Sanity roll for a 0/1 loss. Butcher may comment wryly on Lowell’s package, but won’t demand an inspection. The former option—hauling the bundled corpse back to Harborside—requires a Sanity roll for a 1/1D4 loss, and may involve a series of bribes, mishaps, and unfortunate events at the Keeper’s discretion. In any event, reburying the corpse costs the Professor an unexpected $3 reinterment fee—“Well, I reckon you already asked after the poor devil ‘round port, so maybe it’s best we send him back to a dignified repose?”

Further Study
If Lowell keeps Salva’s arm for additional study, he’ll need to preserve it in alcohol to prevent further decomposition. A Medicine roll determines the original location of the “burr,” and confirms that the mutations radiated from that central intrusion. A Science (Chemistry) roll determines there’s no chemical agents in the tissue. A Science (Biology) roll aided by a microscope finds no unexpected microorganisms, and verifies the arm is entirely made from human tissue. If all of these rolls are successful, Dr. Lowell gains +1D3 Sanity points. After all, Salva’s arm offers compelling evidence supporting his theory of catastrophic teratology! It seems certain that biological development is directed by some form of discrete influencing fluid, perhaps located deep within the cells…

White Leviathan > Chapter 1—Kingsport 1844
[Back to Encounter 39, The Old Gibbet | White Leviathan TOC | Forward to Encounter 41, Doyle’ Rock]

Author: A. Buell Ruch
Last Modified: 12 December 2021
Email: quail (at) shipwrecklibrary (dot) com
White Leviathan PDF: [TBD]