Fitz

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397 appearances 2 recordings 1 series first heard Oct 2024 last heard Nov 2024

Fitz’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.

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Stoker even bases the cargo of his Demeter on that of the real-life Dimitri, which was carrying a ballast of silver sand. Although Bram added to this a number of wooden boxes of earth, or mould, as it is sometimes described, from the Count's homeland.
The real Dimitri was from Narva which is in modern day Estonia but back in the 19th century the ship really was referred to as a Russian schooner or brigantine and although it was not in fact steered by the hand of a dead man its dramatic entry into port and subsequent wreck was still shocking to local onlookers and would have been the talk of the town for a long time.
In fact, it was still fresh in the memories of locals when Bram Stoker was doing his explorations and research, and he was told all about the event during his conversations with Whitby residents. And with overtones of foreboding baked into the real-life event, it's small wonder it ended up finding a place on the pages of Stoker's novel.
We found these accounts of the real event on Heritage Gateway's Historic England research records. Severe Gale, Whitby A storm of great violence visited the north-east coast on Saturday, accompanied by torrents of rain. About an hour after the stranding of the Mary and Agnes, another vessel was sighted a few miles out, flying signals of distress.
The gale was then at its height, and the sea even more dangerous than before. Another lifeboat, the Harriet Portith, was got out. A little excitement prevailed among the thousands of people on shore, for it seemed certain that if the vessel was cast upon the rocks, she would be immediately dashed to pieces and the crew drowned.
The craft, however, steered straight for the port, and by good seamanship got into the harbour safely. Two pilots were in waiting, and at once gave instruction to those on board, but meanwhile the captain, not realising the necessity of keeping on her steerage, allowed her to fall off and lowered sail, thus causing the vessel to swing towards the sand on the east side of the harbour.
On seeing this danger the anchor was dropped, but they found no hold and she drifted into Collier's hope and struck the ground. She was purported to be the schooner Dmitri of Narva, Russia, Captain Siki with a crew of seven hands, ballasted with silver sand.
During the night of Saturday the men worked incessantly upon her that her masts went by the board, and on Sunday morning she lay high and dry, a broken and complete wreck, firmly embedded in the sand.
Throughout Dracula, the Count assumes many forms, including those of a bat, of mist, and, as we see here, of a large black dog. Some of these forms are based on vampire folklore and legend, but the dog harkens back to a legend that's deeply entrenched, not just throughout Yorkshire, but across many areas of England. From county to county, details change, the law, the description and the name.
In other towns, we may call it Old Padfoot, Guy Trash or Shuck, but here in Whitby, it's called the Barguest. In times past, just the mention of this harbinger of doom would be enough to send a shudder down people's spines. For sighting one of these huge black beasts with their infernal flaming red eyes was almost always a portent of ill fortune.
In the shipping and fishing town of Whitby, the apparition was said to appear pacing up and down the shore during stormy weather, and was seen as an omen of doom for anyone taking to the sea that day, a sure sign to keep vessels safely in harbour and feet firmly on dry land. Interestingly, Stoker flipped this legend around to fit his story,
In local lore, the Barghest portended a great storm, but in his novel, the storm was the omen preceding the calamitous arrival of the beast. You could say that Stoker's novel helped to immortalise the legend of the Barghest. But then, to be honest, it was doing pretty well on its own anyway.
Sightings of the creature are said to date back at least as far as Saxon England, with a mention in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, and still persist to this day. In fact, a particularly curious encounter with the brute is documented just a few miles up the coast from Whitby at Kettle Ness Point. a landmark mentioned by Mina Murray in her diary entries in Dracula.
It took place in the 1950s and was documented in a book called To Anger the Devil, a biography of Reverend Dr Donald Armand, a clergyman of the Church of England and an exorcist. The riverend had apparently received a letter from a schoolmaster who had been out with two friends at the desolate windswept point of Kettle Nest Nab where the rocky promontory juts out into the sea.
In his letter the schoolmaster wrote that he and his friends were shocked and horrified to witness a huge hound appear out of thin air on the misty shore. Describing the beast as bigger than any mortal dog, they stood frozen in terror as it silently began to move towards them, and then suddenly and inexplicably vanished.
The group discussed feeling an overwhelming sense of evil, leading to the schoolmaster contacting the reverend to ask if he would visit the area and consider performing an exorcism. Reverend Omand was apparently only too happy to oblige. He had actually visited Kettle Nest before as a youth, and on that visit had felt what he thought of as an ominous atmosphere.
He felt vindicated in this when he later heard reports of the bar guest being seen in the area and even more so when he read Bram Stoker's Dracula and realised the Count's form as a black dog was inspired by the Yorkshire Coast's bar guest. In fact, he even became convinced that Stoker must have visited Thethilness and witnessed the apparition for himself.
Amand obligingly headed out to Kettle Nest by train, and after meeting up with the schoolmaster, the pair headed out to the rocky nab, arriving just as night was falling. The shore rapidly becoming cloaked in darkness, the scene well and truly set for a frightening encounter with the legendary creature. Both men were alert and expectant. Oman choked.
All we need now is for Dracula to come bounding ashore in the form of a great black dog. He probably intended to break the building tension with some humour, but instead his words seemed to have the effect of summoning the beast itself, and as Oman felt the schoolmaster grip his arm in sudden fear, he looked up to see a huge black hound heading straight towards them.
The reverend described it as being bigger than any of the canine species known to man, fitting with so many accounts of Shuck and the Barghest that often compare the size of the creature to that of a calf or even a small horse. The schoolmaster, understandably, lost his nerve and rushed back to the car. But Oman stood his ground, uncorked his bottle of holy water and proceeded with his exorcism.
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