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- Говард Лавкрафт
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- Ужас Данвича
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the
cursed
Voices
of
Azazel
and
Buzrael
,
of
Beelzebub
and
Belial
,
being
heard
now
from
under
Ground
by
above
a
Score
of
credible
Witnesses
now
living
.
I
myself
did
not
more
than
a
Fortnight
ago
catch
a
very
plain
Discourse
of
evill
Powers
in
the
Hill
behind
my
House
;
wherein
there
were
a
Rattling
and
Rolling
,
Groaning
,
Screeching
,
and
Hissing
,
such
as
no
Things
of
this
Earth
could
raise
up
,
and
which
must
needs
have
come
from
those
Caves
that
only
black
Magick
can
discover
,
and
only
the
Divell
unlock
"
.
Mr.
Hoadley
disappeared
soon
after
delivering
this
sermon
,
but
the
text
,
printed
in
Springfield
,
is
still
extant
.
Noises
in
the
hills
continued
to
be
reported
from
year
to
year
,
and
still
form
a
puzzle
to
geologists
and
physiographers
.
Other
traditions
tell
of
foul
odours
near
the
hill-crowning
circles
of
stone
pillars
,
and
of
rushing
airy
presences
to
be
heard
faintly
at
certain
hours
from
stated
points
at
the
bottom
of
the
great
ravines
;
while
still
others
try
to
explain
the
Devil
's
Hop
Yard
--
a
bleak
,
blasted
hillside
where
no
tree
,
shrub
,
or
grass-blade
will
grow
.
Then
,
too
,
the
natives
are
mortally
afraid
of
the
numerous
whippoorwills
which
grow
vocal
on
warm
nights
.
It
is
vowed
that
the
birds
are
psychopomps
lying
in
wait
for
the
souls
of
the
dying
,
and
that
they
time
their
eerie
cries
in
unison
with
the
sufferer
's
struggling
breath
.
If
they
can
catch
the
fleeing
soul
when
it
leaves
the
body
,
they
instantly
flutter
away
chittering
in
daemoniac
laughter
;
but
if
they
fail
,
they
subside
gradually
into
a
disappointed
silence
.
These
tales
,
of
course
,
are
obsolete
and
ridiculous
;
because
they
come
down
from
very
old
times
.
Dunwich
is
indeed
ridiculously
old
--
older
by
far
than
any
of
the
communities
within
thirty
miles
of
it
.
South
of
the
village
one
may
still
spy
the
cellar
walls
and
chimney
of
the
ancient
Bishop
house
,
which
was
built
before
1700
;
whilst
the
ruins
of
the
mill
at
the
falls
,
built
in
1806
,
form
the
most
modern
piece
of
architecture
to
be
seen
.
Industry
did
not
flourish
here
,
and
the
nineteenth-century
factory
movement
proved
short-lived
.
Oldest
of
all
are
the
great
rings
of
rough-hewn
stone
columns
on
the
hilltops
,
but
these
are
more
generally
attributed
to
the
Indians
than
to
the
settlers
.
Deposits
of
skulls
and
bones
,
found
within
these
circles
and
around
the
sizeable
table-like
rock
on
Sentinel
Hill
,
sustain
the
popular
belief
that
such
spots
were
once
the
burial-places
of
the
Pocumtucks
;
even
though
many
ethnologists
,
disregarding
the
absurd
improbability
of
such
a
theory
,
persist
in
believing
the
remains
Caucasian
.
It
was
in
the
township
of
Dunwich
,
in
a
large
and
partly
inhabited
farmhouse
set
against
a
hillside
four
miles
from
the
village
and
a
mile
and
a
half
from
any
other
dwelling
,
that
Wilbur
Whateley
was
born
at
5
a.
m.
on
Sunday
,
the
second
of
February
,
1913
.
This
date
was
recalled
because
it
was
Candlemas
,
which
people
in
Dunwich
curiously
observe
under
another
name
;
and
because
the
noises
in
the
hills
had
sounded
,
and
all
the
dogs
of
the
countryside
had
barked
persistently
,
throughout
the
night
before
.
Less
worthy
of
notice
was
the
fact
that
the
mother
was
one
of
the
decadent
Whateleys
,
a
somewhat
deformed
,
unattractive
albino
woman
of
thirty-five
,
living
with
an
aged
and
half-insane
father
about
whom
the
most
frightful
tales
of
wizardry
had
been
whispered
in
his
youth
.
Lavinia
Whateley
had
no
known
husband
,
but
according
to
the
custom
of
the
region
made
no
attempt
to
disavow
the
child
;
concerning
the
other
side
of
whose
ancestry
the
country
folk
might
--
and
did
--
speculate
as
widely
as
they
chose
.
On
the
contrary
,
she
seemed
strangely
proud
of
the
dark
,
goatish-looking
infant
who
formed
such
a
contrast
to
her
own
sickly
and
pink-eyed
albinism
,
and
was
heard
to
mutter
many
curious
prophecies
about
its
unusual
powers
and
tremendous
future
.
Lavinia
was
one
who
would
be
apt
to
mutter
such
things
,
for
she
was
a
lone
creature
given
to
wandering
amidst
thunderstorms
in
the
hills
and
trying
to
read
the
great
odorous
books
which
her
father
had
inherited
through
two
centuries
of
Whateleys
,
and
which
were
fast
falling
to
pieces
with
age
and
wormholes
.
She
had
never
been
to
school
,
but
was
filled
with
disjointed
scraps
of
ancient
lore
that
Old
Whateley
had
taught
her
.
The
remote
farmhouse
had
always
been
feared
because
of
Old
Whateley
's
reputation
for
black
magic
,
and
the
unexplained
death
by
violence
of
Mrs
Whateley
when
Lavinia
was
twelve
years
old
had
not
helped
to
make
the
place
popular
.
Isolated
among
strange
influences
,
Lavinia
was
fond
of
wild
and
grandiose
day-dreams
and
singular
occupations
;
nor
was
her
leisure
much
taken
up
by
household
cares
in
a
home
from
which
all
standards
of
order
and
cleanliness
had
long
since
disappeared
.
There
was
a
hideous
screaming
which
echoed
above
even
the
hill
noises
and
the
dogs
'
barking
on
the
night
Wilbur
was
born
,
but
no
known
doctor
or
midwife
presided
at
his
coming
.
Neighbours
knew
nothing
of
him
till
a
week
afterward
,
when
Old
Whateley
drove
his
sleigh
through
the
snow
into
Dunwich
Village
and
discoursed
incoherently
to
the
group
of
loungers
at
Osborne
's
general
store
.
There
seemed
to
be
a
change
in
the
old
man
--
an
added
element
of
furtiveness
in
the
clouded
brain
which
subtly
transformed
him
from
an
object
to
a
subject
of
fear
--
though
he
was
not
one
to
be
perturbed
by
any
common
family
event
.
Amidst
it
all
he
showed
some
trace
of
the
pride
later
noticed
in
his
daughter
,
and
what
he
said
of
the
child
's
paternity
was
remembered
by
many
of
his
hearers
years
afterward
.
'
I
du
n't
keer
what
folks
think
--
ef
Lavinny
's
boy
looked
like
his
pa
,
he
would
n't
look
like
nothin
'
ye
expeck
.
Ye
need
n't
think
the
only
folks
is
the
folks
hereabouts
.
Lavinny
's
read
some
,
an
'
has
seed
some
things
the
most
o
'
ye
only
tell
abaout
.
I
calc
'
late
her
man
is
as
good
a
husban
'
as
ye
kin
find
this
side
of
Aylesbury
;
an
'
ef
ye
knowed
as
much
abaout
the
hills
as
I
dew
,
ye
would
n't
ast
no
better
church
weddin
'
nor
her
'n
.
Let
me
tell
ye
suthin
--
some
day
yew
folks
'll
hear
a
child
o
'
Lavinny
's
a-callin
'
its
father
's
name
on
the
top
o
'
Sentinel
Hill
!
'
