Concealment and Darkness in Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto

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Volume 18 Article 1

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Concealment and Darkness in Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Concealment and Darkness in Horace Walpole’s The Castle of

Otranto Otranto

Alexandra G. Speck

Pepperdine University

, [email protected]

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In 1764, Thomas Gray wrote to thank his friend Horace Walpole for the gift of Walpole’s

new novel, The Castle of Otranto (1764). In his letter, Gray admitted, “[It] engages our attention

here, makes some of us cry a little, and all in general afraid to go to bed o’ nights” (137). As

Gray’s comment makes clear, Walpole’s literary creation has inspired terror in its readers since

its publication. Through its distinctively dark setting, subterranean passages, and supernatural

dangers like the infamous giant helmet, Walpole initiated a new literary genre — the Gothic

novel — in which he brought together “the two kinds of romance, the ancient and the modern,”

or, the romance and the novel, in order to create a literary form that was both realistic and highly

imaginative (Walpole 9).

Despite the terror that the supernatural elements of the novel imbue in the storyline, as

E.J. Clery and other scholars have shown, the supernatural elements in Otranto and its Gothic

descendants are not the primary source of terror. Clery suggests that the human villains in Gothic

novels emerge as more terrifying than any ghosts due to their sinister intentions for the young

heroines of these stories. Otranto opens with the notorious scene of the giant helmet that crushes

Conrad to death, but the fear in the story is not from other giant falling objects but rather the

looming threat Conrad’s father, Manfred, poses to the women around him. Since Manfred

interprets his son’s death as an omen forecasting the ending of his family’s reign, he seeks to

reestablish his bloodline and confirm his authority by forcing Conrad’s betrothed Isabella to

marry him instead. Isabella, however, declines his proposal and flees, resulting in a chaotic and

fearful chase as Manfred pursues her through the castle’s dark underground halls.

While previous scholars attribute the Gothic’s terror solely to the nefarious intentions of

its villains, they fail to recognize the extent to which the dark setting magnifies the terror by

eliminating the heroines’ sight. Darkness envelops Otranto, with Isabella’s escape taking place at

night through the castle’s subterranean passages. For Isabella, darkness itself poses a danger

because, without light, she loses visual sensory perception and the ability to create knowledge of

her surroundings. Walpole’s novel speaks to almost a century of philosophical debates about the

connection between the imagination, sensory perception, and the formation of knowledge.

Enlightenment thinkers such as John Locke argued that the ability to think arises through

empirical observation of the world. In his 1689 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Locke

notes that “external and internal sensation, are the only passages I can find, of Knowledge, to the

Understanding. These alone, as far as I can discover, are the windows by which Light is let into

this dark Room” (123). Locke suggests humans generate knowledge through sensory observation

— including vision — of the world, metaphorically comparing knowledge acquired through

sensation to “Light” illuminating the otherwise “dark” mind. Rather than use darkness as a

passive aesthetic feature of his ancient Gothic setting, Walpole weaves darkness into Otranto to

manipulate Isabella’s visual sensory perception and, accordingly, her ability to knowledgeably

think. Darkness, therefore, invokes terror in Isabella not only by concealing danger but also by

preventing her from taking in visual data that she can use to generate knowledge and devise her

plan to escape, instilling fear of not only the unknown but also the unseeable.

Manfred reveals to Isabella that darkness does not impede his physical movements,

contributing to her fear of his pursuit through the underground passages. After Manfred demands

a servant bring Isabella to him, he orders the servant, “Take away that light, and begone. Then

shutting the door impetuously, he flung himself upon a bench against the wall, and bade Isabella

sit by him” (Walpole 23). Through Manfred’s removal of a light source from the room, Walpole

emphasizes Manfred’s propensity to enact evil in darkness. Manfred demonstrates an embodied

power in the darkness through his impetuous behavior, confidently flinging himself upon the

Speck: Concealment and Darkness in The Castle of Otranto

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bench despite the lack of a light source to guide his movements. Where Isabella’s terror aligns

with her impaired visual faculties, Manfred remains unnervingly unimpeded by the dark setting.

Manfred contradicts Locke’s argument that knowledge and, therefore, the ability to reason,

require sensory input.

Joseph Crawford lends insight into how Enlightenment notions of empiricism and reason

reveal Gothic characterizations of villainy, writing that Enlightenment-era authors believed

“failures of reason, education, empathy, or self-control” gave rise to evil (6). Manfred perverts

Enlightenment values of sensory observation through his preference for darkness over light. His

easy functioning in the dark resembles Crawford’s depiction of Enlightenment “evil,”

contributing to his fearsomeness. Moreover, Walpole figuratively emphasizes this correlation

between Manfred’s preference for darkness and his villainy. As Manfred develops his scheme to

entrap Isabella, Walpole notes, “[I]t was now twilight, concurring with the disorder of his mind”

(22). In correlating twilight with Manfred’s disorder, Walpole likens Manfred’s impending evil

to the setting’s upcoming night. The setting’s literal darkness thus materializes as an indicator of

Manfred’s figurative darkness, or wickedness of character. Nick Groom aptly recognizes twilight

as a symbol of concealment, defining “the action takes place in obscurity, from twilight to

impenetrable darkness” (121). Twilight, the shadowy precursor to night, suspensefully

foreshadows Manfred’s yet-unrevealed plan to trap Isabella as his wife through his figuratively

dark intentions and shrouded movements.

Walpole reveals the castle’s supernatural dangers with lighting to emphasize the chief

terror of Manfred’s concealment in darkness. After Isabella realizes Manfred’s scheme to entrap

her, she descends into consuming, “half-dead” fearfulness and only musters bravery when a ray

of moonlight cuts through the dark room (Walpole 24). Walpole writes, “the moon, which was

now up, and gleamed in the opposite casement, presented [to Manfred’s sight] the plumes of the

fatal helmet” and Isabella “gathered courage from her situation, [who] dreaded nothing so much

as Manfred’s pursuit of his declaration” (Walpole 24). The ray of moonlight striking the scene

enables her to visually observe her surroundings and create knowledge of the dangers nearby.

Through this sensory knowledge, Isabella reasons that Manfred poses a greater danger than the

motionless fallen helmet, and she finds bravery in the ability to recognize the bigger threat.

Moreover, Walpole distinguishes between the supernatural terror of the helmet and the

human terror of Manfred, implying Isabella finds Manfred more terrifying. Clery, recognizing

Gothic literature’s characteristic distinction between natural and supernatural terror, explains

readers rely on “the mode of the ‘explained supernatural’, there is also the reverse possibility that

such fictions might encourage… a capacity to see the everyday in another, less complacent,

light” (114). Clery posits that the Gothic novel demystifies or lends normalcy to supernatural

dangers to encourage readers to identify the greater terror — the figurative darkness in

“everyday” human villains like Manfred. As Clery argues that normalizing supernatural dangers

figuratively sheds “light” on reality’s horrors, Walpole normalizes the supernatural helmet

through illumination, the ray of moonlight confirming it is unmoving and harmless. Walpole’s

method is characteristically Gothic; as Fred Botting notes of Sophia Lee’s Gothic novel The

Recess, “[r]ather than the imaginary threats of supernatural powers it is the pursuit and

persecution by noblemen that constitute the major instances of fear” (58). Manfred poses a more

fearsome danger to Isabella than the inanimate giant helmet. The helmet, well-lit and observable,

appears far less terrible than Manfred’s figuratively dark intentions and darkness-concealed

pursuit of Isabella through the castle’s underground halls.

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Walpole’s notion of fearing what darkness may conceal mirrors ideas of terror presented

by Edmund Burke. In A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and

Beautiful, Burke explores how the human psyche responds to danger. He writes that dangers “at

certain distances, and with certain modifications, they may be and they are delightful” (Burke

459). Burke reinforces that dangers will simply inspire fear if the viewer believes themselves at

genuine risk. Distance therefore refers to sufficient separation from the dangerous object,

delighting the viewer that their life remains unthreatened. Conversely, Burke notes that “when

danger or pain press too nearly” they “are simply terrible,” suggesting terror manifests when

danger is too imminent (Burke 459).

Walpole manipulates Burke’s notion of near danger through Otranto’s darkness, which

makes danger feel nearer to Isabella by preventing her from observing and confirming the

danger’s distance. When Isabella flees from Manfred through the castle’s subterranean passages,

lighting controls her understanding of the imminence of Manfred’s danger. Isabella relies on

lamplight to observe her surroundings, acquiring a sense of safety through the ability to visually

confirm Manfred’s absence from her immediate vicinity and the nearness of her escape exit. In a

moment of “fortifying herself,” she considers “what she could observe, that she was near the

mouth of the subterraneous cavern” (Walpole 27). Light enables Isabella to ascertain that safety

— the cavern's end — lies within reach. Isabella’s ability to visually observe her surroundings

lends her reassuring confirmation that Manfred remains distant in his pursuit, resembling

Locke’s argument that rational thought requires sensory input. Lighting thus becomes Walpole’s

symbolic method for distancing his characters from danger, protecting Isabella from a descent

into fear by permitting her to exercise sensory observation. Accordingly, Isabella’s fear

reemerges only when a gust of wind extinguishes her lamp and plunges her into darkness. As

Isabella laments the loss of her extinguished light source, she fearfully “expect[s] every moment

the arrival of Manfred” (Walpole 27). Manfred’s danger nears Isabella by the possibility that he

may lurk in the dark, prompting her Burkian reaction of fear. Darkness transforms Manfred from

a visible terror to a terror of expectation, forcing Isabella to suspensefully await his arrival.

James M. Keech observes that Isabella’s fear “is created not only by that which frightens, the

darkness of the underground passageways… but by the foreboding that magnifies its dangers:

Isabella’s apprehensions of her fate if captured by Manfred in this darkness” (132). Manfred’s

terrifying character looms — and even grows — in the possibility that he may be concealed in

any approaching moment or turn through the passageway. The sudden plunge into darkness

compounds Isabella’s fear of Manfred; she remains afraid of his pursuit but now doubly fears the

darkness that may mask his arrival.

While Isabella must only reasonably fear Manfred’s pursuit through the underground

passages, she also expresses fear of additional unknowable terrors, suggesting that darkness

instills fear by simultaneously broadening and concealing terrifying possibilities. Isabella finds

darkness fearsome not only because it conceals Manfred but also because it hides infinite

opportunities for danger. Verging on collapse from fear at her extinguished light source, she

reports being “far from tranquil on knowing she was within reach of somebody, she knew not

whom, who for some cause seemed concealed there-abouts, all these thoughts crowded on her

distracted mind, and she was ready to sink under her apprehensions” (Walpole 27). Walpole

stresses Isabella’s immense terror by revealing her fears in a run-on sentence that mirrors her

racing mind. Her fear of being “within reach” of danger parallels Burke’s emphasis that danger

that is too near is “simply terrible” (Burke 459). Darkness brings danger nearer to Isabella by

Speck: Concealment and Darkness in The Castle of Otranto

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preventing her from observing her surroundings, allowing the perpetual possibility that danger

lurks nearby.

Moreover, Isabella’s fear of an imaginary “somebody” in the darkness reveals

irrationality as the consequence of limited sensory perception (27). Her pre-established fear of

Manfred, a known pursuer, contradicts this abstract fear of an unknowable “somebody,” despite

Manfred being the only human in the castle who poses Isabella danger. Botting notes darkness’

distinctive ability to instill unreasonable fear of the unknown in Gothic protagonists, writing,

“Darkness, metaphorically, threatened the light of reason with what it did not know” (32).

Isabella’s “apprehensions” of an imaginary “somebody” confirm that an inability to generate

knowledge through sensory perception leads to irrationality and, in a dangerous situation that

requires a clear and informed mind, fear. Regarding similarly dark passageways and their

paranoia-inspiring nature in Anne Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho, Mary Poovey writes,

“In such complete obscurity the imagination is cut loose from all governing images… its innate

susceptibility becomes an aggressive force, rushing to fill the void with its own projected

images” (320). Despite the irrationality of her fear of mystery persons other than Manfred,

Isabella cannot help her imagination’s frantic fear of what dangers may be concealed in the

darkness. Her fear of mystery persons lurking in the dark resembles paranoia, or an overactive,

irrational imagination. Such paranoia corresponds with the Enlightenment idea that rational

thought requires knowledge acquired through sensory observation. Stripped of her visual

faculties, Isabella accordingly loses her reason.

Another gleam of light saves Isabella from her terrified state, confirming that her sharp

transitions between fear and relief depend upon her perception of the darkness around her.

Isabella reports “a kind of momentary joy to perceive an imperfect ray of clouded moonshine

gleam from the roof of the vault” and gladly moves towards the chasm revealed by the light to

continue making her escape (Walpole 27). Isabella takes joy not just in the chasm itself but also

in her ability to see, or “perceive,” her surroundings with moonlight. Light spares Isabella from

the unknown and infinite dangers of darkness, and her happiness mirrors Burke’s understanding

of delight, which requires dangers stay “at certain distances” (Burke 459). Without changing her

physical location in the subterranean passage, Isabella takes delight in the illumination that

confirms her distance from her pursuer and her — albeit momentary — safety. Manfred’s

villainous intentions remain unchanged, yet Isabella expresses joy in the return of her visual

faculties, revealing her relief at creating knowledge of her surroundings once more.

Walpole frames these gleams of moonlight that repetitively assist Isabella’s escape as

unpredictable strokes of good fortune, building readerly suspense and inviting readers to share in

Isabella’s tumultuous experiences of the unpredictable dark. As Theodore — the rightful heir to

the crown whom Manfred so fears — and Isabella search for a trapdoor to assist her escape, “a

ray of moonshine streaming through the cranny of the ruin above shone directly on the lock they

sought—Oh, transport! Said Isabella, here is the trap-door!” (28). In the image of a ray of light

shining directly on the object Isabella desires, Walpole contrasts the unimaginable, pervasive

darkness with a focused, well-lit detail, relieving Isabella of her darkness-instilled fear and the

reader of their sympathetic suspense. The detail of the lock only surfaces to Isabella — and to

readers — after the moonlight illuminates it, allowing her to surpass an obstacle in her frantic

journey. Robert D. Hume observes that “the Gothic atmosphere seems mechanical, even in the

greatest of these novels, but originally its purpose was to arouse and sensitize the reader’s

imagination,” referring to the suspense-building nature of supernatural horrors (284). Otranto’s

dark setting and providential strokes of moonlight inspire similarly bated breath. Darkness

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conceals Manfred’s location and Isabella’s means of escape — such as the lock — to Isabella

and, therefore, to readers limited to her perspective. The novel’s dark setting invites readers to

experience Isabella’s nervousness at her concealed surroundings. Readers must suspensefully

wait alongside Isabella for the strokes of moonlight to relieve the darkness, enduring the

tumultuous emotions that Isabella herself feels as a result of the darkness or light.

Scholars have previously recognized that Otranto’s human dangers — namely, Manfred

and his tyrannical pursuit of Isabella — invoke more terror than its supernatural threats;

additionally, scholars acknowledge that Isabella’s darkness-shrouded flight through the

subterranean passages inspires terror characteristic of the Gothic genre. Indeed, Otranto’s

supernatural dangers are extremely visible in their moonlit, larger-than-life appearances, but

Manfred’s fearsomeness emerges in both his darkness-shrouded stalking and his figuratively

dark intentions. Yet increased attention to the birth of Gothic literature during the British

Enlightenment suggests a significant correlation between dark settings and the genre’s

characteristic horror. Before the development of the Gothic novel, Enlightenment thinkers

associated sensory observation with the development of knowledge and, therefore, rational

thought. By utilizing darkness as a tool to create sensory deprivation, Walpole explores the deep-

rooted fear of irrationality that underlies the Enlightenment pursuit of knowledge. Through vivid

and thrilling storytelling, The Castle of Otranto demonstrates a keen understanding of the

philosophical and psychological emphases of its time. The recognition it spurred in readers,

demonstrated by genuinely fearful reactions such as Gray’s, fueled a new genre driven by this

primal understanding of human nature. Darkness pervades Otranto’s successors in the Gothic

genre, including in the similarly dark castles Radcliffe and Reeve modeled after Walpole’s. The

influence of Enlightenment thought on Gothic fear of the dark and the unknown can, therefore,

be traced from Walpole through the genre he inspired.

Speck: Concealment and Darkness in The Castle of Otranto

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