Graves Yawning to Spew Forth

The specialist unit grew and became autonomous by the end of the decade, holding its inaugural meeting on 2 February 1970 as the Vampire Research Society. I remained the head of the British Occult Society until its formal dissolution on 8 August 1988. So much has been written about this history - not least three books on the subject by myself - that it requires scant further discussion, or indeed regurgitation. What follows, however, is a brief recap from a different perspective.

Kevin Demant, barely alive himself when the original events took place, offered the following synopsis:

“Graves yawning to spew forth their rotting, shrouded incumbents; the revenant of a Wallachian nobleman gliding from an ivy-clad vault at midnight to suck the blood of the living; a corpse face of most saturnine aspect at the bedroom window of a Polish schoolgirl, whose throat would soon bear the tell-tale twin punctures of contamination; mouldering cadavers dragged half from their vandalised coffins or strewn on pathways … [the] Today team trudging grimly through the snow from the columbarium to the shunned North Gate and the soundman falling senseless to the ground, clutching his neck; a crucified toad in a decaying mausoleum and everywhere the lifeless exsanguinated forms of foxes, squirrels, rabbits and others. These are but a handful of the choice terrors which beleaguered the quiet bastion of Christendom that was Highgate Village and its immediate environs circa 1967-1973.” ("The Last Highgate Vampire Interview?" by Kevin Demant, The Goth, September 1992, page 7).

No longer tied to the photographic studio from the 1970s and without the responsibility of taking care of staff, I was free to do other things. My home was now also functioning as the offices for the British Occult Society, which later translated to premises at 13-15 Pond Square in Highgate Village. I spent much of my time in Highgate during this period, and would reside there until I purchased a house in Southgate. Later I bought another property overlooking Hampstead Heath.

In an interview given to the magazine of The Gothic Society, Udolpho, I reflected on what had evaporated with the passing of the Sixties:

“That season of peace and love was all too brief. The chill wind of winter cynicism soon blew away seeds of hope borne of that mythical moment. Those of us who remember still yearn for another harvest of dreams that have a place to call their own. But the winter of greed and materialism seems to blow as cold as ever. In the counter-culture of the Sixties many sought an alternative to the conservative values of the war generations; they sought something - though they knew not what - and looked for its fulfillment in all manner of belief systems that promised a touch of magic in a world denuded of Romance. The naivety of the flower children was ruthlessly exploited. The dream was shattered. The moment was lost.” (“Interview with the Vampyre Hunter” Udolpho, Gargoyle’s Head Press, Spring 1996, vol 24, page 31.)

I could empathise with and understand the rebellion against the war generations, as reflected in this passage from my novel: “Scenes of supposed glory were quickly reduced to quagmires of squelching blood and stinking corpses. Europe, before long, was awash with a sea of sacrificed victims whose blood has ever since been synonymous with endless fields of red poppies. … [England] now belonged to history. It had irrevocably disappeared. The moral standards, high values, and much of the English tradition [that generation] knew and upheld was about to erode and vanish for ever.” (Carmel, Gothic Press, 2000, page 13.)

The decline which had slowly commenced at the opening of the twentieth century was certainly in strong evidence by its close. Great Britain, once the leader in world affairs with a vast Empire second to none, was becoming a lack lustre nation without faith or identity, believing only in its own dissolution, whose fate bounced between absorbed oblivion within a European super-state and a simpering satellite of America. More affluent than we had ever been in our entire history, inhabitants of hedonistic Blighty grew singularly depressed and unhappy as the soul of the nation state withered.

Aware of this dichotomy even back then, I searched for a third way. I rode horses, fenced, taught myself contemplative complimentary pursuits. These disciplines prepared me for the struggle ensuing and exponentially more menacingly so ahead.

On 2 February 1970, the Vampire Research Society became autonomous, having previously been a specialist research unit within the British Occult Society. I had founded this group with the express purpose of it becoming an official advisory service on all matters pertaining to the lore and legend of the vampire, as well as it functioning, like the BOS, as an investigative body in its own right. It led to experts, academics, scholars and many experienced researchers becoming members early on. Prospective candidates, in normal circumstances, are approached by an existing member with an invitation. The candidate then tenders a written application and at a later stage is vetted by at least three executive members in person, ie face to face. The Vampire Research Society is pro-active, and is not a club for those to merely share their interest in the genre. The kind of work the society does is self-evident from its title. Pro-active means operative vampirology/demonology as distinct from speculative vampirology/demonology. Due to the sensitive nature of the subject under scrutiny it has proved more efficacious to operate with stringent security measures in place so that privacy can be established and maintained. Concerning its investigations post-Highgate, the VRS does not co-operate with the media and certainly does not make disclosures to the press. This enables folk to have confidence in sharing their experiences and knowledge without fear of their privacy being violated.

Membership of the research society, founded on 2 February 1970, remains strictly by invitation. Nothing said by strangers or anyone else wishing to gain entry is taken at face value or will circumvent this rule.

This procedure became necessary to avoid the inevitable time-wasters and others of more dubious intent, eg infiltrating journalists believing a sensational and thus lucrative story might be in the offing. Despite numerous attempts having been made, none have so far managed to compromise the integrity of the Vampire Research Society which these days thankfully enjoys relative obscurity.

One valued colleague was Dr Devendra Prasad Varma, a retired Professor Emeritus from Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. Born in Darbhanga, a Himalayan village overlooking Mount Everest on 17 October 1923 to landed gentry parents, he eventually became a British and Canadian citizen. He was an internationally acclaimed scholar and the author of dozens of major articles and books in the scholarly discipline of Gothic studies, making him the pre-eminent scholar in the field. His text The Gothic Flame was his way of picking up the torch from Montague Summers, before the flame passed to me as Dr Varma fell in October 1994. He was the keynote speaker for such major literary bodies as The Byron Society and The International Association for the Fantastic in the Arts, which granted him the Outstanding Scholar Award. Both the British House of Lords and the Japanese Diet invited Dr Varma for major presentations. His latest book, On the Trail of Dracula, was in preparation at the time of his death. Decorated Knight Grand Cross of the Order of Our Lady of Guadalupe (Caballero Grand Cruz de la Orden de Nuestra Se-ora de Guadalupe) and Knight Officer of the Holy Sepulchre, Dr Varma also held the Order of the Lion and the Black Rose and was a Fellow of the Augustan Society. He addressed the Conference on Literatures of the Fantastic at the University of Northern Colorado held October 14th to 16th. At the time of his major address, he was made a full member of Sigma Tau Delta, the International English Honour Society. He was an immensely well informed vampirologist and a gentleman in the European style. Honorary Vice-President of the Vampire Research Society, Professor Varma, on his return trip from delivering a scholarly address at The Undiscovered Country Conference on Literatures of the Fantastic at UNC (October 1994), suffered an unexpected stroke and slipped into a deep coma. He finally sustained a massive stroke that took his life on October 24th at 4.30pm New York time. The first of the strokes occurred on October 17th in New York at a colleague's home where he had stopped briefly while returning to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. His son, Hemendra, and daughter-in-law, Susan, flew from Canada to New York and were present at his sad passing. My personal tribute and obituary for this colleague was published in the Summer 1995 issue of Udolpho.

What follows is an edited and much shortened version of my original obituary in Udolpho:

“The terrible news of the Right Honourable Chevalier Professor Sir Devendra Prasad Varma’s death came upon the light-bearers of the neo-Gothic revival as an earthquake. I received the news by accident whilst glancing through a journal; it could not have struck me with the idea of a more awful and dreary blank in Creation. Few have been held in my affection as the place reserved for Varma. We existed, like Byron and Beckford, in mutual admiration. That admiration reigned for twenty years since it blossomed in 1975 when we were independently published in Peter Underwood’s anthology The Vampire’s Bedside Companion. Varma’s chapter, The Genesis of Dracula: A Re-Visit, was the perfect compliment to my own about the early days of Highgate Cemetery’s vampire infestation. The empathy shared and enthusiasm shown for a world that was already receding was apparent to us. Inevitably, we collaborated on many projects; sadly, few of these ever saw the light of day in terms of being published. But somehow that mattered less than the collaboration itself. The last short story for an anthology to be edited by Varma was proffered at his request around the time of my work on Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know reaching completion. Titled Aurora, the manuscript remains locked away with his private papers and is now unlikely to see the dawn.

“Yet it was Varma’s enthusiasm for my biography of Lord Byron’s tortured lover which ensured its appearance in print. This I acknowledge at the front of the book. His generous support of my work knew no bounds. He wrote: ‘Your welcome letter brings the best news for the academic world that your book on Caroline Lamb may be out by early 1991.’ In fact, it was published in mid-1992 with much prompting by Varma who remained inspirational throughout the latter days of the project. His review in The Byron Journal the following year was extremely flattering, but there was never anything sycophantic about Varma as anyone who knew him will amply attest. He always spoke his mind. Nevertheless, his loyalty never faltered. Not once. There are very few people about which the same observation could be made.

“My biography of Lady Caroline Lamb was to be the last my dear mother, an avid reader, was to enjoy before death came as an assassin and as a ferocious wraith two years prior to Varma’s sudden and unexpected departure. The pictures contained within its covers include one of my mother and I at Newstead where we often stayed in those all too distant days. This was the cherry on the cake for her. The book itself she loved and it somehow brought a twinkle back to her grey-blue eyes — those Byronic eyes. Varma proved to be the kindest of individuals during this period. He wrote: ‘Heartfelt condolences on your bereavement! We share your sorrows!’ He then quoted Scott:

The light of smiles shall fill again.
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
And promises of the happy years!

There is a day of sunny rest
In every dark and troubled night
And grief may bide an evening guest
But joy shall come with early light.

“He ended with the words: ‘We have no response for strokes of Fate — only Faith and Resignation.’ Two years later the same fate would clasp poor Varma in its icy clutch.

“Like Summers and me, Varma subscribed unreservedly to a belief in the existence of vampires, the supernatural variety, as defined in every dictionary and chronicled in ancient tradition. His knowledge of the lore of the undead was impressive and our correspondence on this subject immense, running to several bulging files over the years. But his hand grew shaky and his most recent letters had an erratic quality that was unfamiliar. Nevertheless, his unbridled passion for those things in which we held a common interest burned brightly to the end.

“His final letter spoke of us meeting at St Etheldreda’s Church in Hertfordshire where Lady Caroline is entombed in the Lamb Family Vault, but a crowded schedule would deny us this last opportunity.

“My work The Grail Church: Its Ancient Tradition and Renewed Flowering (published on Ascension Day 1995) is dedicated to the memory of my dear mother. My next book will return to the Gothic genre and be dedicated to my late lamented colleague Devendra Prasad Varma whom I shall ever admire. It only remains for me now to recover the fallen torch, so fatefully dropped in October 1994, and guard its sacred flame until I, too, am no more on this old Earth of ours.

“Fare the well, dear Varma — dear friend ... ”