Black Forest: Trees of Evil

[Dr Strange]

And a few more from Weird Woods -

Elliot O'Donnell - The White Lady of Rownam Avenue, Near Stirling (from Scottish Ghost Stories, 1911). A schoolboy sneaks out one night to hide in a hollow oak tree in the avenue leading to Rownam Manor, hoping to catch a sight of the local White Lady ghost while at the same time avoiding being caught trespassing by Sir E.C., the still-living husband of the ghost, local tyrant, and all-round bad egg. Schoolboy gets what he wants, and some.

Algernon Backwood - Ancient Lights (The Eye-Witness, July 1912). Another one I've read before, and fairly representative of Blackwood's brand of nature mysticism. A surveyor's clerk is dispatched from Croydon to rural West Sussex to assist a local landowner who wants to "improve" the view from his house by removing an ancient copse. On the road to the house, he makes the mistake of "'aving a look" at the copse by himself.

Mary Webb - The Name-Tree (The English Review, Dec 1921). Married sexual predator Julius Winter, the wealthy new lord of the manor, tells down-on-her-luck tenant Laura that he will let her keep her beloved cherry orchard if he can have his wicked way with her. Short, unpleasant, and to-the-point, but the orchard doesn't really have anything very much to do with the story. Editor informs us the story might be set in Hampshire, or Shropshire, or neither.

[humgoo]

A.M. Burrage loves his trees:

The Hawthorn Tree (Between the Minute and the Hour: Stories of the Unseen): "'That's a wonderful old tree,' he remarked. 'Looks just as if it's had a new life given to it this year.'"

The Oak Saplings (ibid.): "There's company in the copse at night as you wouldn't like meeting. There's them that can't sleep because they lies hard and damp," says old Baylord, who prides himself on being a member of the old gentry, like "old Durbeyfield in 'Tess', only he's a bitter, sinister old wretch", "them" thus referred to being his daughter and Micheal Carr, a member of the "jumped-up offal" who have taken the manor from the Baylord family with their new money. The two try to elope, but don't get far.

The Black Diamond Tree (Un-Paying Guests): "'For God's sake, no!' he cried. 'Don't touch anything off that tree. Drop it! Drop it, I tell you! Don't even touch it.'"

Dallas Goffin

Oct 26, 2017 21:03:38 GMT dem said:

M. P. Dare - Fatal Oak: (Unholy Relics, 1947).

And its ancestor the Hanging Oak. Let no one say that the Vault doesn't promote LITERATURE:

When I grew in the Wood
I was water'd w^th Blood
Now in the Church I stand
Who that touches me with his Hand
If a Bloody hand he bear
I councell him to be ware
Lest he be fetcht away
Whether by night or day,
But chiefly when the wind blows high
In a night of February.

We know our POETRY!

[helrunar]

I watched the early Seventies film of The Stalls of Barchester late last night (and had to smile when the credit for "Action by Havoc" came up since I'm a huge fan of the Jon Pertwee Dr Who series). That had a short but effectively filmed scene regarding Pagan rites performed in a sinister wood... the unduly complacent protagonist was unwise enough to refer to such rites as "superstitious foolery." And to say such words with blood on his hands.

The trees had been removed... but the spirits that had thronged to them, dwelt in them, were still very much alive. Heh, heh.

H.

[Dr Strange]

The final selection from Weird Woods -

Walter de la Mare - The Tree (from The Riddle & Other Stories, 1922). A story about two half-brothers - one a financially successful but unimaginative fruit merchant, the other an artist with a weird tree in his garden who is happy to "take things as they come". An allegory about what really matters in life, I suppose, but far from being one of de la Mare's best.

Marjorie Bowen - "He Made A Woman" (from Seeing Life & Other Stories, 1923). Another author I am usually quite fond of, but this story is not one of her better ones. Set in the Forest of Dean and drawing on Welsh mythology, the title gives rather too much away.

MR James - A Neighbour's Landmark (The Eton Chronicle, March 17th 1924). It's been a while since I read this one and I think it's probably fair to say that it's one of MRJ's lesser stories, but even at that it's much better than a lot of the other tales in this anthology. It's got a typical MRJ set-up: an antiquarian comes across a strange reference (in this instance to something "which walks in Betton Wood") in an old book in a private library, and tries to find out more. For me, the (relative) weakness of this particular story comes from the fact that very little actually happens to the antiquarian himself (he hears a weird noise that frightens him, but that's about it), but he manages to piece together the story about Betton Wood from the second- and third-hand accounts of others.

Arthur Machen - N (from The Cosy Room & Other Stories, 1936). Machen at his most wistfully mystical (wystical?) - a story about a fabled park of extraordinary beauty situated somewhere in Stoke Newington, North London, but apparently accessible only to those who possess the inner vision to see it. Stories like this are part of the reason that Machen is now seen as a key figure in early "psychogeography", but I have to say I prefer him when he is dealing with darker themes.

All in all, an OK anthology - and better than OK if somehow you haven't read the Nesbit, Benson, Blackwood and/or James before.  New ones to me that I am glad I got the chance to read were The Whisper in the Wood (Anon.), The Striding Place (Atherton) and The Name-Tree (Webb).  The only major disappointments were An Old Thorn (Hudson) and The Tree (de la Mare).

And I never did find any "language which would now be considered xenophobic or offensive" - apart from some questionable allusions to Laura's "ripening fruit" and the like in The Name-Tree.

[dem]

Sept 6, 2020 13:54:18 GMT Dr Strange said:

The final selection from Weird Woods -



Arthur Machen - N (from The Cosy Room & Other Stories, 1936). Machen at his most wistfully mystical (wystical?) - a story about a fabled park of extraordinary beauty situated somewhere in Stoke Newington, North London, but apparently accessible only to those who possess the inner vision to see it. Stories like this are part of the reason that Machen is now seen as a key figure in early "psychogeography", but I have to say I prefer him when he is dealing with darker themes.

You and me both. Anyone know if Machen was aware of the real and very beautiful Canon's Park in NW London when he wrote N? Or maybe it wasn't known by that name at the time. It's particularly notable for it's woods and the St. George V Memorial Park. It's a personal favourite haunt - or was pre-Covid (!). There's a spinney nearby I used to run through most days as a kid. Back in February, I wondered if I were still capable ...

Don't ask.

Very much enjoyed your commentary, Dr. S. Particularly tempted by The Name-Tree and The Whisperer in the Woods. If/ when the local libraries reopen, will try order in a selection of these Tales of the Weird titles.

Sept 6, 2020 13:54:18 GMT Dr Strange said:

And I never did find any "language which would now be considered xenophobic or offensive" - apart from some questionable allusions to Laura's "ripening fruit" and the like in The Name-Tree.

"These stories are presented as they were originally published and as such contain language in common usage at the time of their writing. Neither the publisher nor the editor endorses any language that would now be considered xenophobic or offensive."

Perhaps BL are now running the disclaimer inside all publications? Can't see any big problem myself. It's surely far preferable to interfering with the text as originally published?

[Dr Strange]

Sept 7, 2020 9:31:34 GMT dem said:

"These stories are presented as they were originally published and as such contain language in common usage at the time of their writing. Neither the publisher nor the editor endorses any language that would now be considered xenophobic or offensive."

Perhaps BL are now running the disclaimer inside all publications? Can't see any big problem myself. It's surely far preferable to interfering with the text as originally published?

Yes, I think that is probably the case - I just checked out their Into The London Fog (published a week before Weird Woods), using you-know-who's "Look Inside" function, and it carries the same disclaimer; though, having also read through the Introduction, there could well be a couple of stories in there that actually warrant it.

[dem]

Phyllis Vere Campbell: What gives me the worst fright is a tree....”

I myself first learned of a tree ghost from an old tramp, who came and sat by my side on a seat on Clapham Common.

“Do I ever see anything strange here at night?” he repeated in answer to my question. “Yes, I do, at times, but what gives me the worst fright is a tree that I sometimes see close to the spot where that man was murdered some ten or twelve years ago. I never saw it before the murder, but a few nights afterwards, as I was passing the spot, I saw a peculiar glimmer of white, and, on getting a bit closer, I found, to my astonishment, that it was a tall, slender white thing with branches just like a tree, only it was not behaving like a tree. Although there was not a breath of wind, it kept lurching with a strange, creaking noise, and I felt it was watching me, watching me furtively, just as if it had eyes, and was bent on doing me all the harm it possibly could. I was so scared, I turned tail, and never ceased running till I had reached home.”

“Home!” I said.

“Yes, a clump of bushes near the ditch, where I always turn in of nights. It ain’t much of a home, to be sure, but it’s the only one I’ve got, and I can generally count on lying there undisturbed till the morning.”

I gave him a few coppers, and he blessed me as if I had given him a fortune.

On Tooting Common I met a Northumberland miner, who had come to London for the first time on a holiday, and, having had his pocket picked, was obliged to spend the night out-of-doors. “Ghosts,” he said, when I asked him if he had any experiences with the supernatural[142] whilst engaged in his underground work. “Ghosts! Yes, but of a nature you don’t read about in books. Me and my mates, when working in a drift at night, have heard the blowing of the wind and a mighty rustling of leaves, and have found ourselves surrounded on all sides by numerous trees and ferns that have suddenly risen from the ground and formed a regular forest. They have not resembled any trees you see now-a-days, but what you might fancy existed many thousands of years ago. There has been no colour in them, only a uniform whiteness, and they have shone like phosphorous. We have heard, too, all the noises, such as go on daily in forests above-ground—the humming and buzzing of insects, and the chirping of birds; and shafts and galleries have echoed and re-echoed with the sounds, till you would have thought that those away above us must have heard them, too.”

I do not think the miner romanced, for what he said was only a corroboration of what other miners have often told me.

Elliott' O'Donnell talks to vagrants in Twenty Years’ Experience as a Ghost Hunter, 1916.

[Dr Strange]

Daphne du Maurier - The Apple Tree (1952). Downtrodden husband feels only relief when his passive-aggressive wife dies from pneumonia. But then the apple tree in the garden starts to take on some of her characteristics...

[cauldronbrewer]

Sept 5, 2020 8:41:37 GMT ropardoe said:

Fine if you want a book of stories about woods, trees not in woods and stories which only mention trees in passing!  Some of the stories are very good, even excellent, but at least half don’t belong in the book.  I must say that the introduction is good though - pointed and quite timely.  Almost (but not quite) worth getting for that alone.

I started Weird Woods this evening, and I agree that the introduction is well worth a read. The first part, in which the editor describes a nighttime walk through a supposedly haunted forest, might make a good story opening in and of itself. The part about preserving the habitats of ghosts (I'm paraphrasing here) also reminded me of something the tour guides told me when I visited Iceland: that the people there sometimes reroute road construction to avoid the homes of elves. From a 2013 Guardian article:

Elf advocates in Iceland have joined forces with environmentalists to urge authorities to abandon a highway project that they claim will disturb elf habitat, including an elf church.

The project has been halted until the supreme court of Iceland rules on a case brought by a group known as Friends of Lava, who cite both the environmental impact and the detrimental effect on elf culture of the road project.

As for the stories:

Sept 4, 2020 18:42:28 GMT Dr Strange said:

Anon. - The Whisper in the Wood (All The Year Round, Dec 1880). Dartmoor, 1845: Ronald Morris, on honeymoon with his young wife, sets off for a stroll across the moors, never to be seen again. As if that's not bad enough, he had in his pocket the only copy of his late Uncle's will, which would have provided for his widow and the child she was carrying. 20 years later, Ronald Jr. is working as a lowly clerk in a warehouse in the City when he decides to accompany a couple of friends on a fishing holiday in the West Country. Not really being much of an angler, Ronald often wanders off by himself, and one day comes across a strange wooded area where the wind blowing through the trees sounds uncannily like a whispering human voice...

The setting for the story is Wistman's Wood in Devon, described in the editor's intro as "one of England's highest oakwoods" (and described by a Victorian geographer in 1848 as a place "with an evil reputation among the country people") - he also describes the story itself as "a somewhat over-the-top gothic chiller", which is pretty spot-on I think.

LATER: After googling for images of Wistman's Wood, what happens in the story seems a lot more believable.

I found Dr. Strange's photograph more interesting than "The Whisper in the Wood" and its variation on the "ghost who returns to inform a living relative of a will" theme. I couldn't help wondering whether the wife was being a bit passive-aggressive when she told her husband, "[T]here is no reason because we are out on our honeymoon that you should not do some work" [work that gets him killed; maybe he should've focused more on the honeymoon].

[cauldronbrewer]

Sept 5, 2020 18:44:18 GMT Dr Strange said:

From Weird Woods -

WH Hudson - An Old Thorn (The English Review, May 1911). Not sure what to make of this one. There's a solitary hawthorn tree on a hill just outside a village in the South Wiltshire Downs. It has ivy growing on it. The locals say it is very old and has never looked any different to the way it does now. There's an old story about a man who once climbed on the tree as a child coming to a bad end. Maybe it was the tree getting its revenge on him for "hurting" it. Or maybe not. Maybe the tree sometimes grants wishes. Or maybe not. Probably just about qualifies as "weird" (fate, destiny, and all that), but it's not nearly weird enough for me. Reminded me vaguely of Thomas Hardy's The Withered Arm, but with all the horror taken out.

Not weird enough for me, either.

Sept 5, 2020 22:12:31 GMT Dr Strange said:

Elliot O'Donnell - The White Lady of Rownam Avenue, Near Stirling (from Scottish Ghost Stories, 1911). A schoolboy sneaks out one night to hide in a hollow oak tree in the avenue leading to Rownam Manor, hoping to catch a sight of the local White Lady ghost while at the same time avoiding being caught trespassing by Sir E.C., the still-living husband of the ghost, local tyrant, and all-round bad egg. Schoolboy gets what he wants, and some.

This one's more entertaining, and shorter too. I got a little excited when the editor mentioned O'Donnell's account of Glamis Castle, a subject that's all the rage on the Vault these days.

Sept 5, 2020 22:12:31 GMT Dr Strange said:

Mary Webb - The Name-Tree (The English Review, Dec 1921). Married sexual predator Julius Winter, the wealthy new lord of the manor, tells down-on-her-luck tenant Laura that he will let her keep her beloved cherry orchard if he can have his wicked way with her. Short, unpleasant, and to-the-point, but the orchard doesn't really have anything very much to do with the story. Editor informs us the story might be set in Hampshire, or Shropshire, or neither.

When I see a writer's style described as "lyrical," it's usually a sign that I'm in for a rough read. Sure enough, "The Name-Tree" is the lowlight of the book for me so far (the highlight would be Blackwood's "Ancient Lights" if I hadn't already read it at least twice).

[cauldronbrewer]

Sept 6, 2020 13:54:18 GMT Dr Strange said:

The final selection from Weird Woods -

Marjorie Bowen - "He Made A Woman" (from Seeing Life & Other Stories, 1923). Another author I am usually quite fond of, but this story is not one of her better ones. Set in the Forest of Dean and drawing on Welsh mythology, the title gives rather too much away.

Yeah, I was hoping for more from a Bowen-does-Welsh-legends story. Still, even a so-so tale by her standards tops some of the other entries in the anthology.

[dem]

Daily M**l, 7 Nov 1977, via Peter Haining's Superstitions, 1979.

[humgoo]

Mary Danby - Arbor Day (Nightmares 2): As usual, you don't want to mess with the Green Man.

[dem]

TREE WITH CLUTCHING HAND
SAID TO HAUNT SLEEPERS.
LONDON PARK GHOST STORY.

Tales of a haunted tree in Hyde Park, London, which had a malignant influence on those who slept beneath it, are related by Mr. Elliott O'Donnell, who has for many years investigated ghost stories. He first heard of the haunted tree from a down-and-out university man who used to sleep in the park. The tree stood in an isolated position.
"It was a singular-looking tree," said his informant, "inasmuch as it had, growing almost horizontally from its trunk, one long branch that strikingly resembled a very long human arm with a hand outstretched and all the fingers widespread, and curved as if in the act of clutching someone."
The man then described a nightmare he had experienced while sleeping under the tree. "I fancied," he said, "the long, grotesquely fashioned, horizontal branch immediately above me turned into an actual living arm and hand, and began slowly to descend, the fingers all wide-spread ready to grip hold of me. I was at once seized with an awful horror, but found myself utterly unable to move. I was forced to watch the arm descend lower and lower until the great hand hovered just above my face and the tips of the long, cruel-looking fingers all but grazed my flesh. A voice then said in soft but decidedly menacing tones—'I have got you now. I mean to keep you always, always, always—there is no escape.'
"The next moment the fingers, soft as satin, closed over my mouth and throat and began to throttle me. I awoke shrieking, and in such terror that I jumped up and sought a bed elsewhere."
This man had heard that a number of people had committed suicide on the spot, after spending a night under the tree. Some time later Mr. O'Donnell heard that he had been found dead beneath it, strangled with his braces. The tree seemed to exercise an extraordinary fascination upon those who had once slept under it. Mr. O'Donnell himself stood under the tree at night, and experienced an eerie feeling that he was being watched intensely by some unseen presence. The tree, he states, was some years ago out down.

— Belfast Telegraph, 15 December 1924.

[helrunar]

I assume that's straight-out fiction, but it's very creepy nevertheless.

I've read about "suicide trees" in various places that are haunted by malignant spirits that will attempt to coax anyone unwise enough to take a nap underneath to seek self-immolation. There's also old folklore of a rather different stripe about having Faery encounters if one sleeps under an elder tree or near a thornapple plant. 

Hel.