Bury Him Darkly: Malice from the chalice

Bury Him Darkly by John Blackburn

Although it’s been almost 18 years since I last read English author John Blackburn’s first novel, A Scent of New-Mown Hay (1958), I still vividly recall several segments of the book, mainly due to the forcefulness of the writing therein. And really, with its plot conflating a female ex-Nazi scientist, deserted Russian villages, and a fungoid mutation that is slowly spreading across Europe, the book is inherently hard to forget. I’d been meaning to experience something else by Blackburn ever since, but that was not an easy proposition for a long time, most of his works having been OOPs (out of prints) for many years … until, that is, the fine folks at Valancourt Books came along around a decade ago. As of this writing (late 2024), the publisher has released no fewer than 19 of Blackburn’s 30 or so novels, all in beautiful and affordably priced editions, thus allowing a new generation to experience one of England’s foremost purveyors of thrills and horror. Choosing at random (well, actually, I went for the book with the spookiest-sounding title and description!), I opted for the Blackburn novel entitled Bury Him Darkly … and a very fortuitous choice it was, too, as things have turned out!

Bury Him Darkly was originally released as a hardcover edition in 1969 by the English publisher Jonathan Cape. Putnam, here in the U.S., came out with its own hardback edition the following year, right around the time Sphere, a British imprint, released the book in paperback. Another paperback would be issued in the U.S. by Berkley Medallion in 1971, and then the book would go OOPs for 12 years, till the Lisbon-based publisher Europress came out with still another paperback in 1983, under the title O Terror de Railstone. And then, after another OOPs period of three decades, Valancourt added the book to its already hugely impressive catalog, in 2013. The novel was initially released when Blackburn was 46 years old and roughly halfway through his prolific career, which concluded with 1985’s The Bad Penny. Like his very first effort, Bury Him Darkly melds thriller elements with both horror and sci-fi to create one very impressive entertainment for the reader. As the British tabloid The Evening Standard wrote back when, it is a book “Not for the timid.”

At the crux of Blackburn’s gripping tale is Sir Martin Railstone, a poet, painter and scientist who died in the year 1770. For most of his life, we learn, Railstone had produced only mediocre work, until, in his reclusive final 15 years, he began to evince signs of genius. The mysterious figure had been buried in a tomb beneath his home, Caswell Hall, in southern England, along with many of his final works of art and writing. His will forbade the opening of the tomb by anyone except a descendant who should both resemble him (a squat, homely, redheaded person) and share his edema malady, the Anglican church acting as his trustee. Flash forward 200 years, and we find the tomb still untouched, the lookalike heir never having been found. But when the local holy man in charge of the trust, Bishop Dudley Renton, is assassinated in a deliberate hit-and-run, the society that is devoted to all things Railstone, and that dreams of seeing his tomb opened one day, finally sees a glimmer of hope. That society, The Adherents of Sir Martin Railstone and the Openers of the Caswell Tomb, envisions the undiscovered works of art, poetry and science that might soon be brought to light, and its founder, millionaire industrialist Desmond Marne, is soon seen making his urgent request of the clergyman now in charge, Dean William Norseman. And that urgency is mainly due to the fact that a much-needed dam is about to be constructed, with the result that Caswell Hall will shortly lie beneath 100 feet of water! But Norseman had recently come into possession of a journal penned by Martin Railstone himself two centuries before, and had read of the man’s horrible experiments, wicked lifestyle, and supposed “touch of death,” and he adamantly refuses Marne’s pleas. Adding their voices to Marne’s are one of the society’s most zealous adherents, George Banks; an elderly, ex-Nazi scientist named Erich Beck, who thinks valuable medical discoveries might be discovered inside the tomb; historian Mary Carlin, who believes Railstone had hidden in his final resting place an object that might very well be nothing less than the Holy Grail (!); Marjorie Wooderson, a Railstone biographer; and reporter John Wilde, on the hunt for a good story. But Norseman turns them down, one and all.

Before long, however, things start to break. Banks decides to force his way into the tomb by entering through Caswell Hall’s dry moat (bypassing the locks and guards), only to hear laughter emanating from within. He soon goes mad and then dies. Marne finds a mentally impaired woman named Nancy Leame who looks exactly like Railstone and shares his complaint of dropsy, and thus proclaims her to be the rightful heir. Norseman, his curiosity getting the better of him, beats Marne to the punch and forces open the lock of the ancient tomb, only to receive an almost-mortal wound from a diabolical booby trap as a result. But in the end, a Houdini-like figure, Blondin, manages to work his way through the tomb’s defenses; Marne makes off with the chest stashed next to Railstone’s corpse; Mary finds her chalice artifact lying on the tomb’s floor; and Nancy Leame gets to touch the mummified remains of her forebear. All seems well … until it is realized that a horrible, mutating evil has been let loose into the world…

Blackburn’s book, his many fans will not be surprised to learn, is wonderfully well written and is a lean and mean affair, with not a bit of flab. As Greg Gbur mentions in his informative intro to this Valancourt edition, Blackburn never wrote a book that exceeded 200 pages in length, and this one, clocking in at 157, is no exception. But oh my goodness, what a wealth of incident and detail he manages to cram in! Besides being lean and mean, his novel here is also tough and nasty; thus, any character can have harm befall him or her, including several of the major players. Even holy men and little girls are not safe, a knowledge that keeps us in suspense as regards the ultimate safety of one and all. Blackburn supplies his book with an abundance of that aforementioned detail as to history, characters, and general descriptions of the terrain, Caswell Hall, and the ultimate menace. Indeed, it is often difficult to tell where meticulously researched fact leaves off and fantasy begins, and Sir Martin Railstone is so well depicted and thoroughly fleshed out that he convinces as an actual historic figure. But perhaps what is most remarkable about Bury Him Darkly, a feature that Gbur tells us is common in most of Blackburn’s work, is how the story opens out, gradually becoming more and more serious in nature. And so, here, what at first comes off as a tale of murder and a clash between two opposing parties regarding an ancient crypt soon morphs into a tale of terror, as more sinister details regarding Railstone come to light. And then, the terror element becomes more pronounced, and an astonishing science fictional element enters the picture, until we are faced with nothing less than an extraterrestrial scourge that bids fair to sweep across the globe!

Ultimately, we are confronted with an entity that … well, perhaps I shouldn’t say, but readers who have encountered the crawling bloblike creatures in Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Synthetic Men of Mars (1939) and Philip K. Dick’s The Cosmic Puppets (1956), and are familiar with the spectacular and tentacular monstrosities of H. P. Lovecraft, may have some inkling as to what to expect! But this being a John Blackburn novel, the apocalyptic horrors are much more credibly brought to the fore. As did A Scent of New-Mown Hay, Bury Him Darkly combines WW2 doings, Nazis, horror, sci-fi and a creeping, mutating menace to create one mind-boggling stew; just try to predict where this remarkable thrill ride will veer off to next! All fans of adventure, horror, science fiction and apocalyptic fare should just eat it up with a spoon.

As might be expected, Blackburn here provides his readers with one marvelous set piece after another. Among the standouts: the zealous George Banks entering the tomb and becoming petrified by the sound of maniacal laughter; the excerpts of Railstone’s journal that we are privy to; Norseman’s horrible injury as a result of that (phallic-shaped!) booby trap; Blondin and his team cautiously penetrating the hazardous vault; the unboxing of Railstone’s chest, as we discover precisely what has been hidden away for 200 years; the first appearance of the newly mutated Nancy, in Mary’s bungalow; the multiple deaths of the area locals at the hands (so to speak) of the alien whatsit; a pitched battle between the English soldiers, and their guns and flamethrowers, and the marauding menace; and finally, the climactic scene in the Lanchester cathedral, with Mary, John and Beck trapped on the chancel as the monster slowly advances.

For the rest of it, Greg Gbur also gives us, in his intro, his own theory that Blackburn based this book on the ongoing Oak Island “Money Pit” story, and its supposition that the lost works of Francis Bacon are buried therein. (For those readers who are not familiar with this story, as I wasn’t, and of the multiple digs that have been prosecuted at this Nova Scotia site over the past 200+ years, I would recommend looking it up on your Google machine. It makes for a fascinating tale in its own right!) Whether or not Gbur is correct in his surmise it is hard to say, although he does make an awfully good case for it. All I know is that Bury Him Darkly might be a perfect fit for the recently resurrected Hammer Studios, which had already given us something of this ilk in its 1956 offering The Creeping Unknown. I have been trying to play it coy here, so as to avoid giving away any of the book’s many surprises – as usual, I’ve probably, in my enthusiasm, already said too much – but you’ll just have to trust me: This book makes for a wonderfully literate wringer and could very easily be turned into a terrific Hammer horror!

It is a novel regarding which I have very few if any complaints. Oh, it is a very British affair, of course, and we Yanks might have to put in a little effort to learn who Kate Greenaway was, or what a “Glamis horror” is, or what is meant by “dekko,” “mickey-taking” and “don’t come the acid.” I might add that the ultimate solution of the disaster facing mankind – that is to say, the key to our salvation – is a tad confusing, and might not bear up under scrutiny. But these are relatively minor matters. Bury Him Darkly, as I say, is a splendid entertainment that I do recommend unreservedly. I now greatly look forward to choosing another Blackburn book from Valancourt’s large selection, but which spooky-sounding title to go with next? Should it be Children of the Night (1966), or For Fear of Little Men (1972), or Our Lady of Pain (1974), or The Cyclops Goblet (1977), or …