Pallinghurst Barrow by Grant Allen
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- Опубліковано 8 вер 2022
- Pallinghurst Barrow by Grant Allen
A horror story about spirits who linger in old places in the English countryisde. Published 1892. Suggested by Susan Tudor-Coulson
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Grant Allen
Charles Grant Blairfindie Allen was born in 1848 on Wolfe Island in Ontario in Ca nada and died in Haselmere in Surrey aged 51. His father was from Dublin and he was a protestant minister. He was educated at home and then when he was 13, his family moved to the USA, then to France then to Britain. He was educated at King Edward’s School in Birmingham (where Tolkien later went amongst other famous alumni) and then at Merton College in Oxford. He went to teach in Brighton and in Jamaica. He returned to Britain from Jamaica and began to write professionally. He was most famous for his scientific essays. But he also wrote science fiction.
He was an atheist and socialist. He was married twice. He died of liver cancer in 1899. He was a friend and neighbour of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
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Memorandum: 1. Avoid ancient places during the autumnal equinox. 2. Too much cannabis indica may or may not be a good thing. 3. Think for yourself and do not follow the recommendations of light and fairy-like young girls. 4. Always carry a pocketknife. 5. Never doubt the narrator knows his stuff.
And barrows aren't benches. Sit on your coat! This is ace by the way. Foreshadowing MR James and Algernon Blackwood. Exceptional as ever Tony.
Sound advice!👍
Agreed.very good advice !
6. Don't go down there. It's dark 👻
@thewildbirds6070 Blackwood was incredible. My other favorite is Arthur Machen. I've always found M. R. James to be boring. He was an antiquarian and loved old things. So what?
i like tony as he reads of the tale and then his closing aftermath and how he is getting on in his life,you know he is a real person,nice one.
Aah, the dreaded Canabis Indica! A lesson for us all. Great reading, Tony.
Take jus’one wiff’o’ that stuff, and wind up in a drunk tank with tha rummies, or walkin’ down a dark blind alley, with’a gun in yer hand that smells uv cordite, but you don’t remember havin’ fired it, or know where ya got it!
Yer in tha rough’n’tumble part’a’town, too… or even mebbe a jail cell, or a loony-bin-not remembering who the heck ya are, or where tha holy heck yev been, or how ya even got there.
You’ll be pullin’ what’s left’a yer hair out, rackin’ yer scrambled eggs; tryin’a’figure out if you hurt her; and who she even was…
You take my word for it, Chief, that’s’a hot potatah that’ll burn ya, and taste rotten goin’ down…. That’s some hot sauce, ‘n it’s’a little too spicy, for most folkses blood.
It sure ain’t for tha’ “avruge Joe”…
I’LL SAY!
Takes one helluva tough lug’ta deal with thAt heavy ova trip, and the wallop it’ll leave hangin’ all over’ya like anotha’ boxer, holdin’ yer sweaty arms to yer side, with his own overwhelming strength, just playin’ widdya, wearin’ ya down, till he tekes ya’ out’n down fer’da count, widda right cross!
If yer’as smart’a cookie as you sound, you’ll take my advice, kiddo, and steer your sailboat well clear of them reefs, n’ that hooch, n’ hav no truck with tha jokers who do, neither!
Ah, fiddlesticks… I forgot what I was gonna… is yer mout dry too?
Jeepers, creepers, if I ‘aven’caught’da worsest case of tha munchies in tha whole wide wor--
Never mind- wudder YOU lookin’ at, dere. Anyways?
Ohhh, a wizegeuy, eh?
Thumb yer noodle at me, will ya?
So long, sailor… n’ sayanara to yer sister, too…
This is an excellent reading! I had the luxury to sit and listen intently, with no distractions. I'd never heard "widdershins" described as it is in this story.
I literally never have a problem expressing myself or just plain old talking, but when I go to comment on a narration....I'm just mute. Lol. Nothing I try to type sounds good or even normal. But I loved the story. And my favorites are the end bits when you talk about the author and sometimes yourself. Thank you again!!!😁😘
I loved this! You nailed all the various characters’ personalities. I especially loved Joyce during the dinner conversation, and how her knowledge annoyed her Mother so much. Bravo!
Love that you put up an equinox story before the 23rd.
The after talk is very interesting - It really has created an interest in how are written.
Book club - now that would be very interesting - that could end up a story in itself....!
The cursed book club? The haunted book club. An speisiul cinnte
I love this writer...especially "The British Barbarians". He was quite a literary maverick for his age...
Yes, I’d thought it much more modern when I’d heard it.
Tony Walker, one of our Great Story Tellers!!! Skillful Intonation makes all the difference.
Thank you indeed
Great story, I never realised what Barrow Downs actually meant until I read Lord Of The Rings.
Used to ride over Barrow Downs often as a child, was Berkshire then but now Oxford.
Wasn’t quite so keen to ride over those barrows when I realised what they contained!😮
I was in Heysham last weekend and they have an old dark age chapel with rock cut graves (very unusual in Britain) and the area is known as The Burrows. I think it’s the same word
Autumnal Equinox !!!! Of Course !!!! Science !!! Bah!!! Always listen to an old gypsies when it comes to the supernatural !!!! lol I love it. Great story and superb narration. Thanks. 👍👍👍
Childe Roland to the dark tower came😁 Stephen king quoted that in the gunslinger, the dark tower!! A GREAT read
+RaySwoop I like that series best of his work really
@@ClassicGhost yes sir brother😁
Just in time for the autumn equinox. I'll be sure to look out for spirits.
You must
I started listening to you just before Christmas ('22). I had been listening to Danny Robins various ghostly podcasts and was missing them, so stumbled upon your ghostly tails! I'm really enjoying them, and particularly enjoyed this one, as I have a fascination for ancient landscape, barrows, stone circles and the like! I think you read superbly, and I love the extra chat and info!
I'll be filling my afternoons catching up with your past videos, listening as I create my artwork.
Many thanks!
Good. Again flattered to be linked with Danny
Thanks Tony for a Michaelmas story. I really enjoyed it.
I will listen to it again on the 29th if I am able.
Hope all is good with you and yours.
I'm listening on the night of the passing of H M Queen Elizabeth II.
Not sure how this impacts you, but sad news.
Thanks also for the laugh out loud moment.
Lately I could do with a few of these.
I did all three! I found my new home. You’r voice is perfect fir these!
Good to hear this again.Creepy! Just as gripping this time also. thank you, Tony!
Terry Pratchett's treatment of Barrows and the dwellers therein is my absolute favorite. This tale portrays a bit more grim image! Great reading, friend. Thanks so much!
The ghosts that my children and I sensed in the only house where we thought there were some, were from the 1940s and 1930s, so maybe we do see ghosts from a time we are familiar with.
Except I thought that they must have lived in that house during those years.
Thank you so much Tony!! 🫶
As a hardcore materialist (despite having gone to 12 years of parochial school, I’ve been an atheist since 7th grade) I don’t believe in ghosts, vampires, etc. However, it doesn’t impact my enjoyment of these stories. It would be like if being a sci-fi fan required proof of alien civilizations.
I love my Sundew! They are beautiful. I also love you sharing your talent to tell a story ❤️
If you put your finger in the sundew will
It digest it?
Sorry to butt in - it does not. I raise a lot of drosera, sundew, (and other carnivorous plants) and they will just get sticky mucilage on your fing.
However, tape an open Venus fly trap to the end of your finger and after about half a day you’ll find the top layer of skin… eaten.
So if you managed to keep your finger coated in sundew mucilage for like half a day nonstop you might get a bit of localized exfoliation. They are beautiful tho.
Thank you Tony. I'd like to hear more by this author.
Me 2!
Gripping, nightmarish tale, love your vivd, masterful narration. Thank you, Tony.
Loved this one, by the way. Loved the story, loved the acting, especially the antagonists. That was creepy as hell!
Barrow wights go in for mad squabbles.
you narrate exquisitely. And you choose such great stories.
You are kind twice here and I appreciate you taking the time to tell me
Thoroughly enchanting! Many thanks 😊
A car trip of abt an hour and I have Tony to keep me company!!!
I had a 2 hour drive. I listened to Hawkwind
Edible cannabis never did agree w me either. The portrayal of the wise child very well done
Wonderfully abundant with the strange allure of ancient mystery
Ditto this time, Tony. Very enjoyable. Thank you!!!!!
This is a funny story, an interesting story, and to my amusement, a story about a man who takes too much weed tincture and sees the devil from 1892 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
Thanks!
Thank you very much.
Mesmerizing narration!!Thoroughly enjoyed this Tony, as always…
If Lovecraft had written it, Rudolf would be a naturally nervous creature who did not like to venture from his home, but would have been drawn by the call of a primordial creature to the barrow and, glimpsing the eldritch bluish shadows, collapsed and knew no more. So we would have never known what was inside. I was intrigued by the gentleman in 16th century dress, presumably lured in one night many years ago.
I've just listened to this and got a shock at the end. Justin Hopper was one of my best friends in college. What a coincidence he was mentioned!
I mention him a lot! I'm going to review his Old Weird Albion in my Late Night Sleep Stories podcast soon.
So awesome, these are my favorite kind, that involve the moors and the heath lol
Oh my, Reefer Madness!
Great song
Love your shows!
Stay free star child
Yes!! Book club!
As long as people stare into the night sky marvelling at stars and warm themselves by a fire transfixed by the flames, we remain connected to our pagan roots.
Thank you Tony for another gem.
You make my days and nights happier.
This is Good, Tony!
Glad you enjoyed it my friend
I really thought this a MUCH more modern story when I tried listening to it on another chan, a while back, wow!
"Moo Moo Moo!" Good voice acting. Really interesting after talk. Always blow my mind. You know your stuff. Ive heard the sylvester Stallone movie "cobra" has the highest kill count in all movies..... Not sure who counts these things.
Cool story, great narration!
I am a few months into the channel and just listened to this. I think discussing the stories via Zoom or another video chat medium is a great idea!
Keep them coming! Thanks!
Love it. So many things I like in there.
I very much enjoy British folk and fairy lore!
Liked it a lot. Possibly it was a dream due to cannibas. When you did voices, which were great, I imagined what a sore throat you might have after.
In "Children of the Stones", it was a poacher that lived in the barrow. And it was actually the safe place to be!
I remember. I loved that as a kid. I got the DVD. have we spoken about Penda’s Fen?
"Children" showed up on American TV when I was a kid, sometime in the mid-80s, and it was terrifying. Visiting Avebury was as cool for that as it was the history. My inn was the doctor's house apparently. What is Penda's Fen?
@@JimBagby74 The Red Lion ? Pendas Fen is a short film
from about the same period
Great story. And wonderful chat at the end.. loved it! thank you. [you said "poo" lol]
I know. I think I got away with it though... We shall see
I get impatient with people who say the ghost they saw was "in old timey dress". Well, that really nails it, doesn't it?
“I think the count of monte cristo is one too”, bless you tony for making me laugh hard. I’m not being mean, it just made me chuckle, o think you mean Le Comte St Germain an amazing person and history he has. He also appears in the best ghost story ever (if you can find the secret redacted version with the proper ending) The Haunter and Haunted by Lord Bulwer Lytton.
I have as I’m sure you realise more than a passing interest in such matters, and when we meet we will talk of these things, I promise. John Dee and Enochian magic are really my thing, I find the Golden Dawn just a little hard to follow, given it’s ritual magic created for a reflected worship.
Finally I must mention my dealing with the other people or the gentry, I will not call then using the F word, as I think they are very real and certainly not harmless. As you know I lived my formative years in cornwall and so rubbed up against tor, barrows, cromlechs and stones all the time. Of course I also rubbed up against those who linger around these areas, a quick story.
I went with my sons to camp wild on Bodmin moor near the place known as cheese ring which is a huge stack of stones beside a large cliff face of granite surrounded by moors. It was me, ben aged 6 and Daniel aged 9. We made a little fire, but had to be careful as we were wild camping just near a pathway in the ferns and gorse. It got dark and after the boys had settled down I went for a very short walk around, not going far from the tent. I walked to look up at the cheese ring as there was a glorious moon and it looked almost magical, lost a little in this reverie, and it seemed to suddenly get colder I shook myself off and turned to walk what must be 150 yards to the kids in the tent.
Three things then almost seemed to happen at once, a great sound or feeling was around me like a huge string being plucked and going “ping” I felt as much as heard it. I also heard at the same time my kids shouting, clearly in distress, get off and go away being clear above the ruckus. Finally I saw appear in of me on the track a massive shaggy ram, full horns and he was stamping his front hoof and his eyes glowed reddish orange. These Moor dwelling “sheep” are more like wild boars or bulls than what we would usually call sheep and he looked murderous.
Given my children were in dire distress, perhaps I imagined being attacked by another murderous ram, I picked up a stick beside the track and ran towards the ram, who immediately started charging me. As he came on I dived to the side, hurting my shoulder and rolling into the bracken and ditch at the side. I was up in a trice and going full speed and adrenaline towards the tent, I had no torch as I had just wandered in the moonlight and not that far, though given the crisis it seemed further than I had thought.
I could clearly hear the kids being harassed by something or some things but for the life of me I could not locate them. My panic was super high now, I mean they were only just to the side of the track. I even ran back to the track entry gate to minions that was maybe 300 yards away and I knew we had only come 200 yards in before making camp.
Do what I could, I could not see the tent or my children yet all the time I could very clearly hear them being hurt, painful cries and goodness knows what. I was beside myself and muttered to myself as I am given to do at times of crisis Lord Jesus give me strength. This is half frustrated muttering and half my good Methodist upbringing, leaning on gods for support.
It was like a sudden change in the weather almost, I heard and felt a huge blanket of humming that I hadn’t been aware was there vanish and I was left in a still and now silent trackway other than cries I could hear to my right, just 10 yards into the bracken and could now clearly see the tent.
I quickly ran to the tent and comforted my boys, I broke open the kitkats I had been saving for the next days hike. I asked them once calm what had happened, and this is what they said. Daddy, a strange light woke us up and we could see everything inside the tent and also you were not here, so Daniel went to open the zip as we thought it must be morning. Daniel then says, I unzipped the flap and it was dark outside and then something bit me on the nose, so i ducked back inside. Then Ben and I were pinched and punched all over, there seemed to me something inside the tent with us and there were others outside. It was just like that story where the invisible elves pinch the man who stole their gold.
Well, that’s my story and why I don’t take lightly dealings with the others. I was befuddled that night and I am a careful and sensible fellow who isn’t going to lose his kids ten yards from a main pathway. Luckily to say the rest of the night passed calmly and we woke to one of the most magical sights I have ever had as sun rose across the moor.
Still, a word of caution when camping wild, be careful on whose lands you pitch your tent !
Yes! The Comte de st germain though the Comte de Monte Cristo is going to be in there somewhere . Cornish eh? I used to hang about with a lot of Cornish folk. They made me learn a bit of Cornish too
This is a cool story by the way
Ha! You made me laugh, with, not “at” Ton Loc.
I’ve had some of these, almost Algernon Blackwood experiences myself, but never the physical attack your boys had. More of a glamour they can put on you, as you described. Very interesting story, indeed.
Although, I have to say I’d love to hear more about the “gentry”, you passed briefly over. At first I thought you meant the living, landed, but, I’m fairly certain that this was NOT what you meant, at all…
Already ominous in it’s vagueness. I know you were speaking rather directly to Tony, so I apologize for butting in, it was just interesting to hear.
Cheers
@@StalinLovsMsmZioglowfagz no it’s an open format so everyone is included !
I deliberately won’t say the F word and so call them greyfolk, the gentry (Irish term) or other people. They have many names and my experience taught me to be careful around them.
I was very frightened, with my boys. On one level it was a panicked father who got lost, but I was there and I think what my boys experienced probably backs up my experience.
The power of the very name Jesus. I've fought off a man possessed with Jesus.
Tony, that lady’s “American” accent was hilarious!
I have to say it was intended to be. I’m waiting for the Scots to say something g about the Scottish blokes accent too.
@@ClassicGhost It was so much fun to listen to. Thanks a million!
By the way, you are exactly right about Blavatsky. She’s the founder of most modern New Age Hindu/Tibetan mumbo-jumbo. :)
@@ClassicGhost Toby, quick question, or two. Am I imagining it or did you do a story about a country girl who leaves her parents to live with a rascal who turns out to have werewolf tendencies? If it was you, what story was that? Thanks
Holy cow you are a good reader!
Wow, thank you!
"It's a narcotic, Cannabis Indica" got me cackling as someone who hails from a thc legal region. Be careful not to overdose! 😂
By the sounds of it, the good doctor administered PCP rather than THC.
I very much enjoy your channel and story selection. I listened to your endnotes about wanting to do this full time and I have one suggestion: is there a way to reduce the bass in your recordings? I do find I sometimes have to listen more intently to your videos than to other equally excellent narrators such as HorrorBabble and Sherlock Holmes Stories Magpie Audio. Their audio strikes me a little brighter and clearer. I may be the only one who thinks this, and I'm no audio engineer so "bass" may not even be the issue but rather some other audio setting. Cheers
It is possible to reduce bass and that might make it a brighter sound. I would do this with the EQ
You had mentioned about putting in a link to the Alison Kraus with someone? and I don’t see that link. Could you please put it in as a link? Thank you Tony!
Love the idea of a book club. I would join in a heartbeat. Sadly I’m no technophile so I hope Rebecca will b able to get u up and running. As an aside, I was amused by your comments about the ideas of some that natural =good as justification for cannibis use. As a psych nurse myself while having conversations with patients about the very real benefit of medication to augment mental health recovery, often hear, “Oh, I don’t want to put ‘chemicals’ in my body, I don’t believe in that”. These comments are often made in the destructive aftermath of a chemical binge on meth or cocaine, etc. As humans we always seem to find ways to justify our choices (destructive or otherwise) and tragically defend those ideas even as the consequences destroy us. I also have never seen a ghost though I would love too. And talking about only seeing ghosts of people with which we are familiar, makes perfect sense to me. I have to have a context to make sense of an experience and that context will obviously be the sum of me and my history, beliefs and on and on. So now I’m thinking about the whole alien abduction thing. ZI mean, those people report visions though they aren’t categorized as ghosts.
I wonder how the first abductee used his or her personal context to make sense of something so outside of everyday life. The archetypal alien with tiny prepubescent bodies and oversized heads with big black eyes can’t have been familiar in the beginning. Hmm, I’ve gone off on a tangent.
But I love to and a book club discussion would allow us all to explore tangents! What fun !
+Carol owen This whole idea of the good being natural of the natural being good is wrong . Like you I have discussed many times with my patients who will take any old stuff someone sells them in the toilet but won’t take researched meds. I’m not 100% for medication but it certainly has its place
He straight up had an edible!
Yay -- 1001st like ;D
I loved the dinner party.
I assume the american girl was rich, why invite her otherwise.
1:09:09 Not sure if I like that expression - "proper" - since it indicates that being a Tuber is still not a proper job (which it really shouldn't be any more by now). Best of luck anywho!
I was at Coronado Island Naval Base with my then girl friend partying with her friend whose parents were in Naval Intelligence one night - he was gay - when we heard his friend, a real bore, screaming his name. We had a fire, and we made Jack go fetch his friend away from us.
This is the end of the beach, all the way the opposite from the Haunted Hotel Del, but it’s an eerie beach, and we’ve seen and heard many unexplained sights and sounds there.
We had a fire. And it was May Day’s Eve.
Suddenly both of us stood up. Mouths agape.
Bridget said: “I want you to describe to me EXACTLY what you see.”
“I see three tall, giant women, walking towards us on the moonbeam path on the water…”
“And!?”
“Two have torches, green and red… it’s like they’re a color guard escorting the third.”
“Oh my GOD Pat - what-“
Suddenly I broke in on her.
“I see you you know!”
There was a guy in a wetsuit, face blacked out like he was a Navy Seal, trying to sneak up on us, doing bizarre maneuvers. He heard me and stood, bending from the waste.
“Navy Seals, you have to leave the beach now, were doing grafting exercises!”
“This IS the United States, you know, we don’t have to go ANYWHERE.”
“Pat, don’t argue with the Navy.” said Bridget, bending and picking up our stuff. She’d been a Navy Brat, living on bases with her family. Her dad was a fighter pilot.
But I was non-plussed, and did not like it, and he was a bit of a queer dude; something not quite right about him.
“What the hell is he doing?” I demanded of her.
“He’s getting into the water run off drain.”
“I know, but WHY?” I said, exasperated.
Looking over our shoulders, we barely caught a glance of a sudden cloud bank, that had NOT been there, suddenly covering up the water-walkers.
We’d heard a pig squealing up the beach, toward the Del, on another night, once. I’m not being hyperbolic, when I tell you that it could be a more than ordinarily disconcerting beach to be, all alone on a dark night. You would really find yourself almost running, back to friends, after taking a naked dip in the ocean. Suddenly you’d feel like hands were just missing your ankles, or throat, and you’d find yourself sprinting back to the fire pit.
We tried jumping up on the fence that protects the runway from the public, trying to get the attention of a security guard slumped in his car, but he seemed quite dead.
While leaving the beach, Bridget said she thought she could see the dead, rising from the sand, she was terrified. I tried getting her walk back to back with me, but she mocked my efforts and ran off alone. She was convinced we were going to be sacrificed, but I remained overwhelmed with excitement and a giddy feeling of jubilation.
On other nights we saw people in weird hoods and cloaks around fire pits, and heard pigs squealing. Tonight there was no one.
After that night, the Navy made it illegal to go so far past where on the street, the gate would’ve blocked pedestrian traffic. But on the beach, that night, we got at least halfway down the runway, and 3/4s of the way to a guard tower Jack had wanted to avoid.
If you’ve ever read May Day’s Eve, by Algernon Blackwood, THAT is PRECISELY the feeling I’d have there on some nights. On others, it was it’s evil twin, the feeling that would grip your heart.
Very like some parts described here in Pallinghurst Burrow.
PS - It’s a TRUE story. Absolutely ZERO literary privileges taken in the retelling.
I absolutely love this story. I would like to write a an article about it
@@ClassicGhost your welcome to
Mrs. Bouvary-Barton would make an excellent sacrifice for the equinox. Just tie her up with a gag, which she would probably manage to cast off by the time you got to the barrow by violently moving her jaws, shrilly insisting to the Pictish creatures who grabbed her, that this was no way for them to be carrying on, so unscientific of them, as they devoured her.
Oh. You don't like women, do you?
No room for it...😂😂😂😂
🤓🍻📚
❤🎉🎟🎪🎧🎹🎤🎭🧩🖼📚
That was the worst American accent I ever heard 😂 but this is a great story lol
The Picks - Conan the Barbarian was Pickish
Cromwell 🤮
King Edward 😎
PicTs - Conan the Barbarian was PicTish.
@@susanmercurio1060 Conan was cool
@@richardstrachmesserschmiti4979 : Then he was a cool Pict.
Tony, you tried to get into the locked drawer today, didn’t you?
I didn’t hear it so I had to write it.
Well what do you think? Should I keep the old intro?
Huh, that’s a good question. I kinda miss it because I’m used to it but the new one does get to the excellent content sooner, which I like.
I think it’s good though! Change is good.
@@ClassicGhost : Yes, yes, yes, keep the old intro. I love the locked drawer!
@@ClassicGhost Much prefer the new intro x
Oh gosh, this story is so pulpy Victorian awful and so well-acted, I don't know how you managed the most absurd racist stuff without breaking into giggles every take. That one chain of 'GHOSTS!..but worse than just ghosts, BROWN PEOPLE!! ...and worse than brown people ghosts, WOMEN!!!' just had me rolling. Alas that unlike Howard he wasn't competing for an illustrated front cover bonus, otherwise the Eldritch Menace to all the values of English Society might have been lesbians as well (evidently they are already poor, as for some reason the Bronze Age bling that should have been known to pop culture from barrow cemeteries is absent). A pity the helpful antiquarian vicar-ghost was never identified, he seems to be the sole sensible person/parson in the entire tale.
And the open misogyny 😂
Such a time-piece! The primitive, ugly, animal-like Barrow Inhabitants, who, like all savages, just want to kill you in ritual glee; the unattractive women's rights hostess; the fifth and sixth dimensions; what more could you want! Well done on the voices of the ur-language ghosts, too, you are great at such things. In short: a real thriller!
Yes a heap of prejudice, superstition, racism, misogyny and privilege.
The true horror lies outside the plot and characters