The Collected Short Fiction Of Ramsey Campbell
An ambitious title. It is intended that, one day, this epub will contain the complete short fiction of Ramsey Campbell. This current version contains exactly one hundred stories and is, by way of celebration, released publically. The custom-made cover uses artwork by Peter Elson, used for the British release of Cold Print.
With these origins in mind, the stories are presented in chronological order, from Campbell's early forays into writing by way of Lovecraft imitation—each one a worthy tale in its own right, nonetheless—through the rising splendour of his less-is-more approach to a whole range of un-nameable horrors and onto his current imperial phase as grand magus of British horror - a true legend in the field.
An index in alphabetical order, replete with strike-throughs to show missing stories, is available here for those who have a particular favourite but cannot quite place the year it appeared. 'The' and 'A/An' are ignored for alphabetical ordering purposes, i.e. The Horror From The Bridge is to be found, quite rightly, amongst Hearing Is Believing, Heading Home and The Horror Under Warrendown.
This epub release is version 2.1
2.1 'Demons By Daylight' - Added Potential, At First Sight, The Franklyn Paragraphs, The Sentinel. Minor typographical corrections to The Tower From Yuggoth and introduction added. Further typos corrected in The Horror From The Bridge, The Stone On The Island, Cold Print, The Scar, Napier Court and The Franklyn Paragraphs. There should be no more split paragraphs other than those which happen to begin with a proper noun. Ellipses separated from full stops by a single space and ellipses followed by mysterious '8's have been corrected. Speechmarks inexplicably followed by 'was' have been corrected. - 21st November, 2001
2.0 '24 hours before it hits IRC' - Initial public release - 17th November, 2001
Errors, suggestions and, most of all, missing stories are welcomed by lubkemannepub@gmail.com
The Tower From Yuggoth (1961)
The Tower From Yuggoth is one of Campbell's earlier works, originally published in a fanzine edited by one of Campbell's friends and later re-worked as The Mine On Yuggoth. As Campbell puts it in the introduction to Alone With The Horrors: "At the time it felt very much like the start of my career as a writer; now it looks more like a phase I needed Derleth to rescue me from. At least it's eldritch—it keeps saying as much—and it also offers cackling trees and curse-muttering streams. The reader may end up knowing how they felt, and my notion of how Massachusetts rustics spoke may also be productive of a shudder. Had I conjured him up from his essential salts for an opinion, Lovecraft would undoubtedly have pointed out these excesses and many other flaws. And watch out for those peculiar erections in the woods!"
I
Of late there has been a renewal of interest in cases of inexplicable happenings. From this it seems inevitable that further interest be shown in the case of Edward Wingate Armitage, who was consigned to St Mary's Hospital, Arkham, in early 1929, later to be taken to an institution. His life had always been, by choice, the life of an outcast and recluse; for the greater part of his life outside the institution he had been interested in the occult and forbidden; and his supposed finding of incontrovertible evidence in his research into certain legendary presences outside Arkham, which sent him into that period of insanity from which he never recovered, might therefore have been a seeming triviality, portentous only to his already slightly deranged mind. Certainly there were, and still are, certain Cyclopean geological anomalies in the woods toward Dunwich; but no trace could be found of that which Armitage shudderingly described as set at the highest point of those strange slabs of rock, which admittedly did bear a certain resemblance to titan stair-treads. However, there undoubtedly was something more than the vast steps that Armitage glimpsed, for he had known of their existence for some time, and certain other things connected with the case lead an unbiased outsider to believe that the case is not quite so simple as the doctors would have it believed.
Edward Wingate Armitage was born in early 1899 of upper-class parents. As an infant, nothing peculiar may be noted concerning him. He accompanied his parents to their weekly attendance at the Congregationalist church; at home he played, ate, and slept with regularity, and in general acted as a normal child would. However, the house's welfare was naturally attended by servants, most of which, in the manner of servants, had a tendency to talk more to children than the elder Armitages; and so it was that a three-year old was noted to show unaccountable interest in what fell out of space on the Gardner farm in that year of 1882. The elder Armitages were forced to speak more than once to the servants on the subject of what was fitting for discussion with Edward.
A few years later, after a period in which Edward declined to leave the house except for walks with his parents, a change was seen to occur. It was in the summer of 1886 that this became particularly noticeable. He would indeed leave the house, but could not be seen playing anywhere nearby, though servants often saw him leave with a book from the house library under his arm—that library which had been partially built up of books from the inherited property of a grandfather. Certain of these books were on subjects occult and morbid, and Edward had been warned not to touch them—his father often considering their destruction, for he was a definite Congregationalist, and disliked such books being in the house; but never did he put this idea into practice. None of these books appeared to be missing while Edward was away, but the father was unsure quite how many there were; and the boy was never met returning, so that he might have returned whatever books he had taken. He invariably said that he had been "out walking"; but certain newspaper items, dealing with curious signs found scratched in the soil of graveyards, and certain peculiar erections, together with bodies of various wild creatures, found in the woods, gave the parents cause to wonder.
It was at this time, also, that the boy began to be avoided by all the children in the vicinity. This inexplicable avoidance began immediately after a young girl had accompanied Edward, or rather followed him, on one of his silent trips. She had seen him enter a grove of trees outside Arkham, where a peculiar arrangement of stones in the centre, somewhat resembling a monolith, caught her eye. Characteristic of the cold-bloodedness of children in those times, she did not cry out when he procured a small rat, tied helpless near the monolith, and slit its throat with a pocket-knife. As he began to read in some unknown and vaguely horrible language from the book, an eldritch shadow seemed to pass across the landscape. Then came a sinister muffled roaring sound; sinister because, the girl swore, the roaring followed the syllables shrieked by Edward Armitage, like some hideous antiphonal response. She fled, telling her friends later but not her parents. Both the parents of the various children and Edward's parents inquired into the resultant avoidance, but could elicit no information. Only tales handed down through various families now make this tale available, and it is doubtful how much of it can be believed.
As time passed, Edward's father contracted typhoid fever, further complications assured that it would be fatal, and in 1913 he was taken to St Mary's Hospital (later to see another Armitage's consignment there) where, on the twelfth of May, he died.