by Philip Jenkins Baylor University In a recent column at this site, I reported what I believe to be a significant find in the history of the folk horror genre, namely a 1961 television episode titled “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook,” in Boris Karloff’s series Thriller . This was, I believe, the first ever folk horror ever to appear on screen, and it closely foreshadowed the classic film The Wicker Man . Based on some further work, I now think that the episode is still more interesting than it first appeared, given its probable authorship. It is, I will argue, an unacknowledged work by the brilliant writer Nigel Kneale. You can stream “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook” on YouTube: Let me say immediately that there is a good deal of speculation in what I am saying here, and I can by no means join all the dots. There still remain some significant avenues of archival research that I simply have not explored. But on the strong balance of probabilities, we are looking at Kneale’s work here. If that is correct, that would reinforce his role as an early and crucial pioneer of the whole folk horror phenomenon. Kneale’s World Briefly, “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook” depicts a witchcraft-related murder in a remote village on the Welsh border. Witchcraft-related ideas run riot in the community, as do ideas of sacrifice tracing back to Druidic times (Please read the original post for a fuller summary). The story is credited to actor and screenwriter Alan Caillou, who has a major role in the episode, and I duly cited his authorship in that earlier column. At the time of writing, I had one nagging doubt on that topic. In one scene, the lead character travels to a county library where a knowledgeable but eccentric scholar tells her the eerie history of the haunted village. As I watched that, I had a strong sense of déjà vu, having seen almost identical incidents in several other films and TV productions that I knew well, all of which were by Nigel Kneale. Kneale used such library or archival settings as a means of supplying the viewer with essential background to the plot, and particularly to supply the deep historical context. It is almost a trademark of his writing. You will find a very similar scene, for instance, in The Stone Tape (1972) – beginning at 20:10 if you want to check it out here: At first, I assumed that Alan Caillou had borrowed this scene from Kneale, likely from the original Quatermass and the Pit , but as I considered the episode more closely, I discovered a great many more Kneale-isms, which I will describe. But more generally, the episode raises a serious question. Both Caillou and Kneale were prolific writers, whose works are easy to find. Absolutely nothing in Caillou’s work suggests themes or interests vaguely comparable to those in “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook.” He did adventure stories, spy tales, and Westerns, including writing for such series as The Man From UNCLE . In contrast, a great many points remind us of the interests, predilections, and world-view of Nigel Kneale – not least the idea of ancient evil residing in a sinister landscape, where half-lost memories supply the driving force for lethal action. These are among the foundational ideas of the whole folk horror genre. Illustrations are easy to find. Much of the threatening quality of “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook” concerns the ancient stone circle, which is a setting for bloodshed and sacrifice. Stone circles are similarly lethal in Kneale’s final Quatermass IV series (1979), the first episode of which depicts carnage at the circle of Ringstone Round. That imaginary site gives its name to the first episode, but other megalithic circles are central to the whole story. One central theme in the Thriller episode concerns a terrifying and (presumably) supernatural Black Dog, which was indeed a feature on the original Lower Quinton witchcraft story on which the episode is based. But Black Dog myths are common in the British Isles, and by far the best known was the Moddey Dhoo of Peel Castle, in the Isle of Man. Kneale was from the Isle of Man, and cherished its history and folklore. He certainly knew its canine mythology. Another motif of the Thriller episode concerns the wicker baskets in which the local neo-pagans confine their victims for sacrificial burning, recalling Druidic practice: a laundry basket will serve in time of need. In 1982, Kneale was the original writer for Halloween III: Season of the Witch , although the final script deviated substantially from his original intentions. The film concerned an attempted revival of Celtic paganism and the human sacrifice of children at the season of Samhain. As part of this Celtic revivalism, the villain confines his enemies in wicker baskets. As Dawn Keetley writes of Kneale’s original script, The sacrificial ritual in Halloween III is uncovered when the protagonist, John Challis, manages to penetrate Conal Corcoran’s factory in the isolated town of Sun Hills and finds a room in which multiple wicker baskets hang from the ceiling. Each basket contains a slowly dying and mummifying human. –Dawn Keetley, “Forms of Folk Horror in Halloween III: Season of the Witch ,” Journal of American Culture 45 (4)(2022): 373-385). The idea of burning sacrificial victims in a colossal wicker man figure has firm roots in ancient writings, and it is canonized in the film of The Wicker Man . To the best of my knowledge, the use of portable individualized wicker baskets for such purposes appears only in two places, namely Halloween III , and in “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook.” The Devil’s Own Garrulous librarians, deadly stone circles, Black Dogs, wicker baskets… No such example in its own right is sufficient to indicate Kneale’s authorship, but then we find what he was actually doing c.1960-1961, at the time that “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook” was being written and produced. Nigel Kneale was then immersed in reading a major and innovative book about a lethal witchcraft cult in a seemingly tranquil modern-day English village. In 1960, mystery writer Norah Lofts published the book The Devil’s Own under her pseudonym Peter Curtis: the book also appeared variously as The Little Wax Doll, and The Witches . The book portrayed a secret coven that held its ceremonies in a local church, where they plan to carry out a human sacrifice. The Hammer studio, which was then enjoying great success, planned to film what would be titled The Witches, and they hired Kneale to adapt it. This occupied him intensely during 1961, although the actual film did not appear until 1966, when it starred Joan Fontaine. Kneale ‘s attitude to the subject matter was ambiguous. While he was keenly aware of ancient mysteries, he was scornful of modern neo-pagan revivalism, and originally wanted to treat the film’s subjects more mockingly than Hammer desired. Even so, he was clearly thinking deeply about witchcraft and human sacrifice as continuing practices in the modern world. (Paul Cowdell has an excellent article about the making of the film, titled “Practicing Witchcraft Myself During the Filming: Folk Horror, Folklore, and the Folkloresque,” Western Folklore 78(4)(2019): 295-326). Why Was Kneale Not Credited? To my mind, the resemblances between “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook” and Kneale’s known writings are abundant, if not overwhelming, and the episode’s themes were very much in his mind at the time it appeared. So why, then, do we know nothing about any connection? There is no reference in Andy Murray’s fine biography, Into the Unknown: The Fantastic Life of Nigel Kneale (second edition, 2017). I frankly admit that I have not researched Kneale’s own archive, but I do not see any obvious reference in the extensive handlists that are available. (Warmest thanks to Dawn Keetley for sharing this material!) I am going to offer a hypothesis, and yes, it is speculation. I suggest that Kneale wrote the script for “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook,” and this was scarcely modified in the original filmed version: otherwise, it would not be so very close to his obsessions and interests. For some reason I do not know, he did not receive credit. There might have been a contractual problem with Hammer. Alternatively, perhaps did Kneale not have the required standing in the American Writers’ Guild? For what it is worth, that Guild was hyper-sensitive to issues of membership and credits at exactly that time, and a long strike occurred precisely in 1960. Credit for “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook” had to go to an approved and fully paid-up writer, and Alan Caillou was freely available, as an actor in the episode as it emerged. I have no idea what the financial arrangements might have been. Could I be wrong about all this? Of course. But if I am, someone has to explain the extremely Knealean quality of that episode. I am morally certain that Nigel Kneale wrote “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook”. Philip Jenkins is a Distinguished Professor of History at Baylor University, where he serves in the Institute for Studies of Religion. He has published thirty books, including The Next Christendom: The Coming Of Global Christianity (2002) and Climate, Catastrophe, and Faith: How Changes in Climate Drive Religious Upheaval (2021). The Economist has called him “one of America’s best scholars of religion.” His books have been translated into sixteen languages. Jenkins has written for Horror Homeroom on a buried folk horror TV episode from 1961, “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook.” and on Herbert Gorman’s folk horror novel, The Place Called Dagon. You can read more of Jenkins’ work on folk horror at his website.
This content was originally published here.
