Bayard's Leap
A cave in a wood in Ancaster Heath was once inhabited by a witch. She terrorised the local people into giving her whatever she demanded. One family who refused her suffered from a stillborn child. Finally the people decided to do her in.
A local shepherd knew her better than anyone, so he was chosen to be the one to kill her. He was to invite her up onto a horse, then stab her in the breast, and throw her into a pond. He chose between two farm horses by leading them to the pond to drink. He then threw a stone in the water. He used Bayard, the horse that raised its head first. Mounting up, he rode to the witch's cave and called out to her to come and ride with him. She cried back "Wait 'till I've buckled my shoes and suckled the cubs, and I'll be with you."
Eventually the crone emerged and scrambled up onto the horse. He at once plunged his knife into her breast. The old hag, in her agony, clutched at the horse's back with the long sharp nails of her fingers. The horse in alarm made one wild, sudden bound, which landed him full sixty feet from the spot. The witch fell back into the pond, and was drowned; and so her career was ended. Bayard’s horse shoes left imprints next to the pond and a local farm was named `Bayard’s Leap` after the story.
Showing posts with label folklore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label folklore. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
DALE DRINNON: The Lincoln Impology continues
This is meant mostly as an amplification on my comments about the Lincoln Imp. 'Imp' is a funny word and it was usually taken to be a sort of demon towards the end of the Middle Ages, but before then the word was more usually used to mean one of the smaller and uglier of the Faery realm, a goblin. Goblins and brownies were mostly interchangeable and they were basically described as small hairy-but-naked humans that lived in the woods but could co
me to live around the house; usually hiding in the cellar or in the dark corners, but they could come out when the masters were asleep to inspect household goods, steal or wreck things - and they could also be trained to do household chores, presumably on the 'Monkey see, monkey do' principle. These are the same stories of the 'Little People' the world over, but these are also characteristics of current seriously-reported Wildmen reports out of Russia. The Wild Woman Zana was one example of a Wild Woman that took to living in a human house and doing household chores.
Oftentimes if the Little People are given human clothing as a reward they will stop working and go away, and the story should be that the
y thought themselves to be real humans and too good to work as slaves.
The section of Folklore that deals with such creatures calls them household sprits and this is partly because images of the creatures were made and set about the house or garden for protection (maybe in hopes of enticing such a creature into your house to do your work for you.) Nancy Arrowsmith in A Field Guide to the Little People assumes that the kobolds of Germany were originally JUST the carved icons, and the illustration shows basically what looks like a vaguely humanoid carrot stuck into the ground - ancestor of the common garden gnomes later on, I suppose. They are also represented by masks stuck on the walls inside the house, and certain ones of these masks have specific names presumably denoting different kinds of creatures: the same sort of masks or icons are put into churches and in ships for protection. Hence the traditition of representing Wildmen or Wudewasas in churches.
The icons are also ancestral to charms carried for personal use and the kobolds or goblins are ancestral to the Gobbo charms in Italy, considered the most powerful protection against the Evil Eye. 'Gobbo' is supposed to mean 'hunchback' but the concept seems to be pre-Indo-European and the lucky dwarf or hunchback may originally have been distributed throughout
Megalithic Europe under the name Kobbok. In Greece the name was Kobalos and this is often given as the root for kobolds.
The leprechauns of Ireland were basically brownies of the 'Shoemaker and the Elves' type run off but still keeping themselves useful. 'Leprechaun' seems to have originally meant only 'Pygmy' but later was commonly construed to mean 'Shoemaker.' As the references below show, there is a wide variety of suggested derivations for all of these terms. And there is not much distinction in character between the helpful imps and the troublemakers except for the fact that the helpful ones might do a person a good turn. The helpful ones are also just as likely to go into a terrible rage and cause physical harm if threatened or mistreated. I shall append the pertinent passage from Sanderson's Abominable Snowmen: Legend Come to Life, and then the references from Wikipedia.
Sanderson p. 384
I do not propose to go into the details of MLF. Not only is it not specifically our province but it is, except to specialists, incredibly boring; in fact almost as boring as having to wade through the names and perquisites of gods in multiple pantheons. Also, with respect to ABSMs or ABSM-like creatures, the whole business becomes unutterably monotonous for, from all over the world, the stories told are nothing but almost word-for-word repetitions of the modern reports that I have already given aplenty—giant, funny, or pigmy foot-tracks; tiny, man-sized, or giant hairy people; high-pitched whistles or gibberings; abducting of young human females usually followed by their release; and an almost invariable smiting or eradication of such types "In the beginning." The whole dreary business is a bore but it does still have very great significance, for it means that almost everywhere [apart from Australasia, Oceania, and Antarctica, as far as we know] sub-humans if not sub-hominids inhabited the whole earth prior to the arrival of the first Homo sapiens persons who proceeded to oust them or at least take over their territory.
me to live around the house; usually hiding in the cellar or in the dark corners, but they could come out when the masters were asleep to inspect household goods, steal or wreck things - and they could also be trained to do household chores, presumably on the 'Monkey see, monkey do' principle. These are the same stories of the 'Little People' the world over, but these are also characteristics of current seriously-reported Wildmen reports out of Russia. The Wild Woman Zana was one example of a Wild Woman that took to living in a human house and doing household chores.Oftentimes if the Little People are given human clothing as a reward they will stop working and go away, and the story should be that the
y thought themselves to be real humans and too good to work as slaves.The section of Folklore that deals with such creatures calls them household sprits and this is partly because images of the creatures were made and set about the house or garden for protection (maybe in hopes of enticing such a creature into your house to do your work for you.) Nancy Arrowsmith in A Field Guide to the Little People assumes that the kobolds of Germany were originally JUST the carved icons, and the illustration shows basically what looks like a vaguely humanoid carrot stuck into the ground - ancestor of the common garden gnomes later on, I suppose. They are also represented by masks stuck on the walls inside the house, and certain ones of these masks have specific names presumably denoting different kinds of creatures: the same sort of masks or icons are put into churches and in ships for protection. Hence the traditition of representing Wildmen or Wudewasas in churches.
The icons are also ancestral to charms carried for personal use and the kobolds or goblins are ancestral to the Gobbo charms in Italy, considered the most powerful protection against the Evil Eye. 'Gobbo' is supposed to mean 'hunchback' but the concept seems to be pre-Indo-European and the lucky dwarf or hunchback may originally have been distributed throughout
Megalithic Europe under the name Kobbok. In Greece the name was Kobalos and this is often given as the root for kobolds.The leprechauns of Ireland were basically brownies of the 'Shoemaker and the Elves' type run off but still keeping themselves useful. 'Leprechaun' seems to have originally meant only 'Pygmy' but later was commonly construed to mean 'Shoemaker.' As the references below show, there is a wide variety of suggested derivations for all of these terms. And there is not much distinction in character between the helpful imps and the troublemakers except for the fact that the helpful ones might do a person a good turn. The helpful ones are also just as likely to go into a terrible rage and cause physical harm if threatened or mistreated. I shall append the pertinent passage from Sanderson's Abominable Snowmen: Legend Come to Life, and then the references from Wikipedia.
Sanderson p. 384
I do not propose to go into the details of MLF. Not only is it not specifically our province but it is, except to specialists, incredibly boring; in fact almost as boring as having to wade through the names and perquisites of gods in multiple pantheons. Also, with respect to ABSMs or ABSM-like creatures, the whole business becomes unutterably monotonous for, from all over the world, the stories told are nothing but almost word-for-word repetitions of the modern reports that I have already given aplenty—giant, funny, or pigmy foot-tracks; tiny, man-sized, or giant hairy people; high-pitched whistles or gibberings; abducting of young human females usually followed by their release; and an almost invariable smiting or eradication of such types "In the beginning." The whole dreary business is a bore but it does still have very great significance, for it means that almost everywhere [apart from Australasia, Oceania, and Antarctica, as far as we know] sub-humans if not sub-hominids inhabited the whole earth prior to the arrival of the first Homo sapiens persons who proceeded to oust them or at least take over their territory.
In ferreting out noticias—as the Spanish so aptly put it—of the existence of these sub-humans in all the welter of written, transcribed, spoken, and remembered MLF, one does, however, have to be extremely careful to observe one basic fact. This is the very clear distinction made by most peoples—though little so by Caucasoids of the West during the past few hundred years—between three types of Beings; exclusive of the all-pervading Spirit, or God. These are: (1) Divine Entities, being representatives of God, gods, demi-gods, or disembodied noncorporeal personalities of another world but which may appear in this one and influence it. These are entities
in their own right that, while being able to assume human form or "enter into" humans, do not change their own identities. (2) Disembodied Spirits of various kinds. These may be the souls of people, dead or alive, mass-produced ancestors, spirits of animals, plants, stones, or anything else, either collective [generic] or individual, together with all manner of lares and penates. To most peoples these are just as real as living people, animals, or plants. (3) Unknown or as yet undiscovered but live, corporeal things.
ABSMs have always fallen very clearly and distinctly into the third class. Nowhere in the world is there any doubt about this. If asked, the "benighted natives" will usually say something like the Nepalese at Pangboche when asked by Stonor about the Meh-Teh alleged to have been seen the year before. The answer he got was "How could they [i.e. any of Nos. 1 or 2] leave footprints?"
I have a fancy that a somewhat extensive galaxy of alleged creatures in the folklore of Western Europe is of this same most pragmatic nature. If you come to look into what was said about Fairies, Pixies, Trolls, Titans, Vampires, Ghouls, Gnomes, Imps, Bogies, Brownies, Elves, Leprechauns, Satyrs, Ogres, and Fauns [as diametrically opposed to "ghosts," "specters," "apparitions," "spirits," "phantoms," "wraiths," "spooks," "banshees," "lemures," or "lorelei," which were definitely of Class 2], you will find that they may all be summed up by the classic line from the somewhat bawdy old English song that begins "There are fairies at the bottom of our garden"
Creatures, usually hairy, generally malignant, only rarely benevolent, but perfectly capable of breeding, as well as communicating with human beings, form the basis of these tales. And note, they come in four convenient sizes. The same may be said for all similar types known by whatever other languages all over Europe, North Africa, and a great part of what is tod
ay Russia. There seem, indeed, to have been "in the beginning" ABSMs of just the usual four types—pigmy; man-sized [and specifically of the Neanderthaler kind]; giant; and the bestial Meh-Teh with its abominable feet [cloven?] and pointed head.[end of Sanderson passage]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobold
ay Russia. There seem, indeed, to have been "in the beginning" ABSMs of just the usual four types—pigmy; man-sized [and specifically of the Neanderthaler kind]; giant; and the bestial Meh-Teh with its abominable feet [cloven?] and pointed head.[end of Sanderson passage] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobold
Origins and etymology
The kobold's origins are obscure. Sources equate the domestic kobold with creatures such as the English boggart, hobgoblin and pixy, the Scottish brownie, and the Scandinavian nisse or tomte;[1][2][3][4][5] while they align the subterranean variety with the Norse dwarf and the Cornish knocker.[6][7]
...
Kobold beliefs represent the survival of pagan customs into the Christian and modern eras and offer hints of how pagan Europeans worshipped in the privacy of their homes.[9] Religion historian Otto Schrader has suggested that kobold beliefs derive from the pagan tradition of worshipping household deities thought to reside in the hearth fire.[10] Alternatively, Nancy Arrowsmith and George Moorse have said that the earliest kobolds were thought to be tree spirits.[11] According to 13th-century German poet Conrad of Würzburg, medieval Germans carved kobolds from boxwood and w
ax and put them "up in the room for fun".[12] Mandrake root was another material used.[13] People believed that the wild kobold remained in the material used to carve the figure.[11] These kobold effigies were 30 to 60 cm (one to two feet) high and had colourful clothing and large mouths. One example, known as the monoloke, was made from white wax and wore a blue shirt and black velvet vest.[13] The 17th century expression to laugh like a kobold may refer to these dolls with their mouths wide open, and it may mean "to laugh loud and heartily".[12] These kobold effigies were stored in glass and wooden containers.[13] German mythologist Jacob Grimm has traced the custom to Roman times and has argued that religious authorities tolerated it even after the Germans had been Christianised.[6]
The kobold's origins are obscure. Sources equate the domestic kobold with creatures such as the English boggart, hobgoblin and pixy, the Scottish brownie, and the Scandinavian nisse or tomte;[1][2][3][4][5] while they align the subterranean variety with the Norse dwarf and the Cornish knocker.[6][7]
...
Kobold beliefs represent the survival of pagan customs into the Christian and modern eras and offer hints of how pagan Europeans worshipped in the privacy of their homes.[9] Religion historian Otto Schrader has suggested that kobold beliefs derive from the pagan tradition of worshipping household deities thought to reside in the hearth fire.[10] Alternatively, Nancy Arrowsmith and George Moorse have said that the earliest kobolds were thought to be tree spirits.[11] According to 13th-century German poet Conrad of Würzburg, medieval Germans carved kobolds from boxwood and w
ax and put them "up in the room for fun".[12] Mandrake root was another material used.[13] People believed that the wild kobold remained in the material used to carve the figure.[11] These kobold effigies were 30 to 60 cm (one to two feet) high and had colourful clothing and large mouths. One example, known as the monoloke, was made from white wax and wore a blue shirt and black velvet vest.[13] The 17th century expression to laugh like a kobold may refer to these dolls with their mouths wide open, and it may mean "to laugh loud and heartily".[12] These kobold effigies were stored in glass and wooden containers.[13] German mythologist Jacob Grimm has traced the custom to Roman times and has argued that religious authorities tolerated it even after the Germans had been Christianised.[6]Several competing etymologies for kobold have been suggested. In 1908, Otto Schrader traced the word to kuba-walda, meaning "the one who rules the house" [since wald ordinarily means "forest", it would seem that the original meaning would actually have been "One who dwells in the forest"].[10] According to this theory, the root of the word is chubisi, the Old High German word for house, building, or hut, and the word akin to the root of the English cove. The suffix -old means "to rule".[14][15]
...
Grimm has provided one of the earlier and more commonly accepted etymologies for kobold,[3] tracing the word's origin through the Latin cobalus to the Greek koba'los, meaning "rogue". The change to the word-final -olt is a feature of the German language used for monsters and supernatural beings. Variants of kobold appear as early as the 13th century.[18] The words goblin and gobelin, rendered in Medieval Latin as gobelinus[19][20], may in fact derive from the word kobold or from kofewalt.[16][21] Related terms occur in Dutch, such as kabout, kabot, and kabotermanneken.[12] Citing this evidence, British antiquarian Charles Hardwick has argued that the house kobold and similar creatures, such as the Scottish bogie, French goblin, and English Puck, all descend from the Greek kobaloi, creatures "whose sole delite consists in perplexing the human race, and evoking those harmless terrors that constantly hover round the minds of the timid."[22] In keeping with Grimm's definition, the kobaloi were spirits invoked by rogues.[23] Similarly, British writer Archibald Maclaren has suggested that kobold beliefs descend from the ancient Roman custom of worshipping lares, household gods, and penates, gods of the house and its supplies.[24]
...
Grimm has provided one of the earlier and more commonly accepted etymologies for kobold,[3] tracing the word's origin through the Latin cobalus to the Greek koba'los, meaning "rogue". The change to the word-final -olt is a feature of the German language used for monsters and supernatural beings. Variants of kobold appear as early as the 13th century.[18] The words goblin and gobelin, rendered in Medieval Latin as gobelinus[19][20], may in fact derive from the word kobold or from kofewalt.[16][21] Related terms occur in Dutch, such as kabout, kabot, and kabotermanneken.[12] Citing this evidence, British antiquarian Charles Hardwick has argued that the house kobold and similar creatures, such as the Scottish bogie, French goblin, and English Puck, all descend from the Greek kobaloi, creatures "whose sole delite consists in perplexing the human race, and evoking those harmless terrors that constantly hover round the minds of the timid."[22] In keeping with Grimm's definition, the kobaloi were spirits invoked by rogues.[23] Similarly, British writer Archibald Maclaren has suggested that kobold beliefs descend from the ancient Roman custom of worshipping lares, household gods, and penates, gods of the house and its supplies.[24]
Another class of kobold lives in underground places. Folklorists have proposed that the mine kobold derives from the beliefs of the ancient Germanic people. Scottish historical novelist Walter Scott has suggested that the Proto-Norse based the kobolds on the short-statured Finns, Lapps, and Latvians who fled their invasions and sought shelter in northern European caves and mountains. There they put their skills at smithing to work and, in the beliefs of the proto-Norse, came to be seen as supernatural beings. These beliefs spread, becoming the kobold, the Germanic gnome, the French goblin and the Scottish bogle.[25]
...
German writer Heinrich Smidt believed that the sea kobolds, or Klabautermann, entered German folklore via German sailors who had learned about them in England. However, historians David Kirby and Merja-Liisa Hinkkanen dispute this, claiming no evidence of such a belief in Britain. An alternate view connects the Klabautermann myths with the story of Saint Phocas of Sinope. As that story spread from the Black Sea to the Baltic Sea. Scholar Reinhard Buss instead sees the Klabautermann as an amalgamation of early and pre-Christian beliefs mixed with new creatures.[27]
...
German writer Heinrich Smidt believed that the sea kobolds, or Klabautermann, entered German folklore via German sailors who had learned about them in England. However, historians David Kirby and Merja-Liisa Hinkkanen dispute this, claiming no evidence of such a belief in Britain. An alternate view connects the Klabautermann myths with the story of Saint Phocas of Sinope. As that story spread from the Black Sea to the Baltic Sea. Scholar Reinhard Buss instead sees the Klabautermann as an amalgamation of early and pre-Christian beliefs mixed with new creatures.[27]
[Klabautermannen are represented by carved wooden figurines or masks which are said to bring good luck to ships, and these descend from similar wooden representations made in houses and gardens in the wooded and hill countries.]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobalos
Kobalos
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kobalos
Kobalos
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The kobalos (pl. kobaloi) was a sprite from Greek mythology, a mischievous creature fond of tricking and frightening mortals.[1] Greek myths depict the kobaloi as "impudent, thieving, droll, idle, mischievous, gnome-dwarfs",[2] and as "funny, little triksy elves" of a phallic nature.[3] They were companions of Dionysus [which identifies them as the same as satyrs]and could shapeshift as Dionysus in the guise of Choroimanes-Aiolomorphos.[4] According to one myth, they robbed Herakles while he slept. He captured them in revenge but took pity on them when he found them amusing.[This is the same story told of the Cecropes or Apes] In one version of the myth, Herakles gave them to the Lydian queen Omphale as a gift. The kobaloi were thought to live in Euboea or near Thermopylai.[2]
Parents used tales of the kobaloi to frighten children into behaving.[5] The term also means "impudent knave, arrant rogue" in ancient Greek, and such individuals were thought to invoke kobaloi spirits.[6] Depictions of kobaloi are common in ancient Greek art. Robert Brown has speculated that their inhuman features show that the kobaloi are non-Hellenic in origin.[2]
The kobalos is related to two other Greek sprites: the kabeiroi (pygmies with large phalluses) and the kerkopes.[2] The kobalos and kabeiroi came to be equated.[2] Other European sprites may derive from belief in kobaloi. This includes spirits such as the Lancashire boggart, Scottish bogle, [Welsh bwca], French goblin, Medieval gobelinus, German kobold, and English Puck.[7] Likewise, the names of many European spirits may derive from the word kobalos. The word entered Latin as cobalus, then possibly French as gobelin. From this, the English goblin [and the regional variants hob and hob-goblin] and Welsh coblynu may derive.[8]
The kobalos is related to two other Greek sprites: the kabeiroi (pygmies with large phalluses) and the kerkopes.[2] The kobalos and kabeiroi came to be equated.[2] Other European sprites may derive from belief in kobaloi. This includes spirits such as the Lancashire boggart, Scottish bogle, [Welsh bwca], French goblin, Medieval gobelinus, German kobold, and English Puck.[7] Likewise, the names of many European spirits may derive from the word kobalos. The word entered Latin as cobalus, then possibly French as gobelin. From this, the English goblin [and the regional variants hob and hob-goblin] and Welsh coblynu may derive.[8]
['Kerkopes' were said to have been transformed into monkeys by Zeus, hence the term Cercopithecines to mean 'Old-world monkeys.' Since no monkeys or apes are actually native to Greece, there has also been the suggestion that the creatures were the same as the fauns and satyrs of other myths]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kerkopes
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kerkopes
Friday, June 25, 2010
OLL LEWIS: Yesterday's News Today
http://cryptozoologynews.blogspot.com/
On this day in 1284 an incident happened in Hamlin involving the death or disappearance of 130 children. This incident was later retold as the legend of the pied piper. The story of a wronged rat-catcher leading the town's children off into a mountain by beguiling them with a magic flute is based upon a stained glass window in the local church that was made in memory of the incident and it depicts the children dancing as they are led out of the town in a parade and towards the mountains by a musician dressed in rags.
There are several theories as to what happened as the town's records only tell what happens as the day ‘we lost the children.’ Theories include disease, a serial killer or wandering army recruiters. To me, the most plausible theory is that the children were taken by disease (a possible link to bubonic plague with the mention of rats in the re-telling of the story) and that the musician depicted in the church’s window was meant to symbolise death leading the children away.
And now, the news:
Canada zoo appeals for stolen tiger and camels
2-year-old cow moose picks area man’s yard to lie down and die
Bionic feet for amputee cat
That’s good news; it would have been a ‘cat’-astrophe if the poor fellow couldn’t walk again.
On this day in 1284 an incident happened in Hamlin involving the death or disappearance of 130 children. This incident was later retold as the legend of the pied piper. The story of a wronged rat-catcher leading the town's children off into a mountain by beguiling them with a magic flute is based upon a stained glass window in the local church that was made in memory of the incident and it depicts the children dancing as they are led out of the town in a parade and towards the mountains by a musician dressed in rags.
There are several theories as to what happened as the town's records only tell what happens as the day ‘we lost the children.’ Theories include disease, a serial killer or wandering army recruiters. To me, the most plausible theory is that the children were taken by disease (a possible link to bubonic plague with the mention of rats in the re-telling of the story) and that the musician depicted in the church’s window was meant to symbolise death leading the children away.
And now, the news:
Canada zoo appeals for stolen tiger and camels
2-year-old cow moose picks area man’s yard to lie down and die
Bionic feet for amputee cat
That’s good news; it would have been a ‘cat’-astrophe if the poor fellow couldn’t walk again.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
LIZ CLANCY: Ugandan 'were-creatures'
There are no wolves in Africa so the people of Uganda are lucky to have escaped the reign of terror inflicted by werewolves. Having said that, they have plenty of other human/ animal creatures to be frightened of so perhaps they don't really consider the lack of the man-wolf all that much of a boon....
Sorcerors are said to be able to take the shape of any native animal and some creatures, such as lions and leopards, have a legendary ability to become human-like.
One such horrifying story concerns a Bantu lady who fell in love with and married a stranger to her village. After some years together they were blessed with the pitter-patter of tiny paws - erm - I mean, feet.
The husband suggests they make the journey to see his own parents and introduce them to their new grandchild. At the end of the first day's journey they make camp and the husband says he is off to hunt food. Where he is actually going is to find his real family and after dark (you can see where this is going, can't you) he becomes a huge hairy lion, and he, lion-mam and lion-dad return to the human camp in order to attack the unwary wife and baby.
As luck would have it, the lion's brother-in-law had, in his absence, built a strong kraal or fence around the camp so there was no supper for the pride of lions that night. In the morning, back in human form, the lion-husband returns with fish, saying he was detained and how sorry is that in his absence, his family might have been eaten by lions or other such predators. In due course he goes off, allegedly for food, again.
The woman's brother already suspects that the husband is really a lion and a gnome (akachekulu), of all things, confirms the fact. The gnome tells the man to build a drum, and hide his sister and nephew in it. Climbing up a tree, job done, the brother begins to beat the drum, his sister no doubt shouting from within the Ugandan/ Bantu equivelent of "Oi! You're giving me and babby a chuffing headache, you twit!"
There's a method in the madness, however, as the lion is attracted by the beating drum and can't help but dance to it, losing his false human skin in the process. While he runs to retrieve it, the human family have it away sharpish and though the lion-man manages to catch up with them a few times, they group manage to reach the village and safety before they're eaten so the lion returns home, hungry.
So, I think the lesson here is that if a fetching new bloke turns up in town, before agreeing to a date with said hunk, it might be best to dangle a dirty great ham shank in his face to see how he responds....
http://www.sacred-texts.com/afr/mlb/index.htm
Sorcerors are said to be able to take the shape of any native animal and some creatures, such as lions and leopards, have a legendary ability to become human-like.
One such horrifying story concerns a Bantu lady who fell in love with and married a stranger to her village. After some years together they were blessed with the pitter-patter of tiny paws - erm - I mean, feet.
The husband suggests they make the journey to see his own parents and introduce them to their new grandchild. At the end of the first day's journey they make camp and the husband says he is off to hunt food. Where he is actually going is to find his real family and after dark (you can see where this is going, can't you) he becomes a huge hairy lion, and he, lion-mam and lion-dad return to the human camp in order to attack the unwary wife and baby.
As luck would have it, the lion's brother-in-law had, in his absence, built a strong kraal or fence around the camp so there was no supper for the pride of lions that night. In the morning, back in human form, the lion-husband returns with fish, saying he was detained and how sorry is that in his absence, his family might have been eaten by lions or other such predators. In due course he goes off, allegedly for food, again.
The woman's brother already suspects that the husband is really a lion and a gnome (akachekulu), of all things, confirms the fact. The gnome tells the man to build a drum, and hide his sister and nephew in it. Climbing up a tree, job done, the brother begins to beat the drum, his sister no doubt shouting from within the Ugandan/ Bantu equivelent of "Oi! You're giving me and babby a chuffing headache, you twit!"
There's a method in the madness, however, as the lion is attracted by the beating drum and can't help but dance to it, losing his false human skin in the process. While he runs to retrieve it, the human family have it away sharpish and though the lion-man manages to catch up with them a few times, they group manage to reach the village and safety before they're eaten so the lion returns home, hungry.
So, I think the lesson here is that if a fetching new bloke turns up in town, before agreeing to a date with said hunk, it might be best to dangle a dirty great ham shank in his face to see how he responds....
http://www.sacred-texts.com/afr/mlb/index.htm
Thursday, June 03, 2010
LIZ CLANCY: The Basezi
Part one of my Ugandan crypto-series concerns the terrifying Basezi, or 'night dancer.' Much like the well known werewolf, by day this monster is nothing more than an ordinary member of society who wouldn't harm a fly, never mind another human being.
However, by night, everyone's best friend turns into a corpse-eating critter that, when not dancing naked in the nearby by fields, floats along the ground, cradling a seething mass of flames between his hands. Ordinary people avoid going out at night to avoid catching sight of the frightening spectacle, which, according to legend, would result in the witness's untimely death.
Sources claim some of the basezi are born that way; others can learn to become one, though why anyone would WANT to dig up a cemetary after dark to munch on a dead body is entirely beyond me.
However, by night, everyone's best friend turns into a corpse-eating critter that, when not dancing naked in the nearby by fields, floats along the ground, cradling a seething mass of flames between his hands. Ordinary people avoid going out at night to avoid catching sight of the frightening spectacle, which, according to legend, would result in the witness's untimely death.
Sources claim some of the basezi are born that way; others can learn to become one, though why anyone would WANT to dig up a cemetary after dark to munch on a dead body is entirely beyond me.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
RICHARD FREEMAN: The folklore of Morris Dancing
During a recent clear-out of the CFZ archives I found this, written nine years ago when Richard and I were doing freelance work for a folk music record label.
MAIDS, MOORS, AND MONSTERS:
THE FOLKLORE OF MORRIS
By Richard Freeman
Few people who have seen Morris men dancing on a village green or in a pub garden can realise the complexity and antiquity of the dance they are witnessing. The pleasant spectacle has a history that stretches back thousands of years and is peopled by grotesque and sometimes disturbing characters. Morris is a dance of gods and monsters, of forgotten rituals, and secret brotherhoods. Once you have studied the background of Morris you will never look on this 'quaint' English custom in quite the same way again.
One of the commonest explanations for the name 'Morris' is that it is derived from 'Moorish.' Some Morris men, such as those in the Cotswolds town of Bampton, dance with blackened faces, possibly representing the Arab foes from the time of the crusades. We must remember that in those days an average Englishman had never set eyes on a non-European. Hence, a dark-skinned man would be a thing not easily forgotten.
In England true Morris dancing is confined to the counties that fall under what was the kingdom of Saxon Mercia. This includes the Cotswolds and the Welsh borders. Danish Mercia and Northumberland have the radically different sword dances (although many still retain mummer-type characters) so it is to pre-Christian Britain we must now turn.
The Morris dance seems to have links to the Celtic goddess Rhiannon, a fertility goddess, queen of the underworld, and the mother of Celtic heroes. She is one of the many manifestations of the triple-faced goddess who can appear as a maid, a mother or a hag. This reflects both changing seasons and the 3 ages of womanhood. Rhiannon is usually portrayed as a beautiful young woman in white, adorned with bells and ribbons. She is the 'fair lady' in the rhyme `Ride a cock `oss`
Ride a cock `oss to Banbury Cross
To see a fair lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music were ever she goes.
Rhiannon was linked to fertility cults and fairs held on Beltane at Crouch Hill in Oxfordshire and on April 13th at Giant`s Cave. The Morris men`s attire may have been inspired by Rhiannon`s. The first proto-morris dances in England may have been held at these fairs. The dance was probably a form of ritual worship and the garb, that of priests of Rhiannon. After the Christanisation of England such events would have been dammed as 'witches sabbats' and the like. To survive they had to change.
The ancient rituals carried on in disguise. A good Cotswolds example is found at the town of Charlton on Ottmoor. The Celts paraded a figure of Blodeuedd, the flower maiden created by Gerydion to be the wife of Lleu in Celtic mythology. Under the Christians Blodeuedd became the Virgin Mary and her rituals a dance. In later centuries the rite incurred the wrath of the puritans who destroyed a fine figure of the Virgin that graced St Mary`s church. The dance and procession survived, however. Today a female figure is made from branches and carried through the streets on May Day.
On May Day the Morris men of Oxford are accompanied by a gigantic verdant figure; a towering wicker framework covered in a shaggy coating leaves and vines. This is the Green Man or Jack-in-the-Green, one of the dramatis personae of Morris. He is an old archetype, a spirit of the woods and wild places. He is seen as a protector of the wilderness and forest. One Celtic tradition was the battle of the Oak King and the Holly King who fight with clubs for dominance. The Oak king wins in spring the Holly King with the onset of winter. His transition into the Christian era was seamless. He graces many churches and cathedrals in the form of bosses, carvings and miserycords. Here he is generally portrayed as a green face spewing leaves and vegetation. There are many Green Man pubs whose signs show a vegetable giant, usually wielding a great club.
Another important character is the fool. Most Cotswold Morris teams are accompanied by a jester, clown or fool. Usually he is armed with a bladder on a stick. His purpose is to remind us of the essentially silly nature of existence with his capering. Self-mocking he often plays other characters like old men and the doctor in mumming plays. It is often the fool who is killed and resurrected. Despite his clownish nature the fool is the leader of the whole affair. We can track his geniuses back to various trickster gods. Most pantheons have such a deity who delights in chaos and pranks. These include Loki in Norse mythology, Pan from Greece and the Coyote from the legends of the American Indians.
Many Cotswold Morris dancers have a sword bearer who dances outside of the ring with a cake impaled upon a large sword. He gives slices of the cake to all women in the audience. Some have suggested that the sword bearer is of Phoenician extract. The Phoenicians traded with the ancient Britains for tin and had several settlements. They also practised human and animal sacrifice. In the city of Carthage hundreds of victims were butchered to appease Bal-Hamoron, god of the city. Victims would fall into the bloody upturned palms of a gigantic statue of the ram-horned god. This sacrifice was not alien to early Morris men. A stag was hunted on Whitsun in the forest of Wychwood and its flesh eaten sacramentally by the Morris men.
One could easily write a whole volume on the folklore of Morris and I have only scratched the surface. What seems to us now a jolly bit of fun on a sunny day once had deep religious meaning. Within the dance hide many mysteries like the beasts of the wild wood and only by pushing deeper in to the tangled forest that is the Morris dance can we begin to unravel them.
THE FOLKLORE OF MORRIS
By Richard Freeman
Few people who have seen Morris men dancing on a village green or in a pub garden can realise the complexity and antiquity of the dance they are witnessing. The pleasant spectacle has a history that stretches back thousands of years and is peopled by grotesque and sometimes disturbing characters. Morris is a dance of gods and monsters, of forgotten rituals, and secret brotherhoods. Once you have studied the background of Morris you will never look on this 'quaint' English custom in quite the same way again.
One of the commonest explanations for the name 'Morris' is that it is derived from 'Moorish.' Some Morris men, such as those in the Cotswolds town of Bampton, dance with blackened faces, possibly representing the Arab foes from the time of the crusades. We must remember that in those days an average Englishman had never set eyes on a non-European. Hence, a dark-skinned man would be a thing not easily forgotten.
In England true Morris dancing is confined to the counties that fall under what was the kingdom of Saxon Mercia. This includes the Cotswolds and the Welsh borders. Danish Mercia and Northumberland have the radically different sword dances (although many still retain mummer-type characters) so it is to pre-Christian Britain we must now turn.
The Morris dance seems to have links to the Celtic goddess Rhiannon, a fertility goddess, queen of the underworld, and the mother of Celtic heroes. She is one of the many manifestations of the triple-faced goddess who can appear as a maid, a mother or a hag. This reflects both changing seasons and the 3 ages of womanhood. Rhiannon is usually portrayed as a beautiful young woman in white, adorned with bells and ribbons. She is the 'fair lady' in the rhyme `Ride a cock `oss`
Ride a cock `oss to Banbury Cross
To see a fair lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music were ever she goes.
Rhiannon was linked to fertility cults and fairs held on Beltane at Crouch Hill in Oxfordshire and on April 13th at Giant`s Cave. The Morris men`s attire may have been inspired by Rhiannon`s. The first proto-morris dances in England may have been held at these fairs. The dance was probably a form of ritual worship and the garb, that of priests of Rhiannon. After the Christanisation of England such events would have been dammed as 'witches sabbats' and the like. To survive they had to change.
The ancient rituals carried on in disguise. A good Cotswolds example is found at the town of Charlton on Ottmoor. The Celts paraded a figure of Blodeuedd, the flower maiden created by Gerydion to be the wife of Lleu in Celtic mythology. Under the Christians Blodeuedd became the Virgin Mary and her rituals a dance. In later centuries the rite incurred the wrath of the puritans who destroyed a fine figure of the Virgin that graced St Mary`s church. The dance and procession survived, however. Today a female figure is made from branches and carried through the streets on May Day.
On May Day the Morris men of Oxford are accompanied by a gigantic verdant figure; a towering wicker framework covered in a shaggy coating leaves and vines. This is the Green Man or Jack-in-the-Green, one of the dramatis personae of Morris. He is an old archetype, a spirit of the woods and wild places. He is seen as a protector of the wilderness and forest. One Celtic tradition was the battle of the Oak King and the Holly King who fight with clubs for dominance. The Oak king wins in spring the Holly King with the onset of winter. His transition into the Christian era was seamless. He graces many churches and cathedrals in the form of bosses, carvings and miserycords. Here he is generally portrayed as a green face spewing leaves and vegetation. There are many Green Man pubs whose signs show a vegetable giant, usually wielding a great club.
Another important character is the fool. Most Cotswold Morris teams are accompanied by a jester, clown or fool. Usually he is armed with a bladder on a stick. His purpose is to remind us of the essentially silly nature of existence with his capering. Self-mocking he often plays other characters like old men and the doctor in mumming plays. It is often the fool who is killed and resurrected. Despite his clownish nature the fool is the leader of the whole affair. We can track his geniuses back to various trickster gods. Most pantheons have such a deity who delights in chaos and pranks. These include Loki in Norse mythology, Pan from Greece and the Coyote from the legends of the American Indians.
Many Cotswold Morris dancers have a sword bearer who dances outside of the ring with a cake impaled upon a large sword. He gives slices of the cake to all women in the audience. Some have suggested that the sword bearer is of Phoenician extract. The Phoenicians traded with the ancient Britains for tin and had several settlements. They also practised human and animal sacrifice. In the city of Carthage hundreds of victims were butchered to appease Bal-Hamoron, god of the city. Victims would fall into the bloody upturned palms of a gigantic statue of the ram-horned god. This sacrifice was not alien to early Morris men. A stag was hunted on Whitsun in the forest of Wychwood and its flesh eaten sacramentally by the Morris men.
One could easily write a whole volume on the folklore of Morris and I have only scratched the surface. What seems to us now a jolly bit of fun on a sunny day once had deep religious meaning. Within the dance hide many mysteries like the beasts of the wild wood and only by pushing deeper in to the tangled forest that is the Morris dance can we begin to unravel them.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
LINDSAY SELBY: A little blog about little people
The bones of Homo floresiensis, said to be a species of dwarf human, were discovered at the Liang Bua cave on the Indonesian island of Flores in 2003. Homo floresiensis was about 1 metre(3 feet) in height and walked upright. The skull has human-like teeth with a receding forehead and no chin. Archaeological evidence suggests this species lived at Liang Bua between at least 95,000 and 13,000 years ago. They used stone tools and hunted small mammals .
Some believe that floresiensis is a dwarf form of Homo erectus based on the evidence that it is not unknown for dwarf forms of larger mammals to evolve on islands. Others believe that they are a completely new species; others that they are merely a new race of our own species.
Could this species be behind the tales of fairies and 'little people' that have been told for generations? From leprechauns to pixies, there are tales of little people from all over the world; could these stories have started with encounters with the species Homo floresiensis? There is often some truth in folk tales and this would be an explanation for some stories, if people had encountered these little people in the past and the stories were then passed down through generations by oral history. Whether they had a crock of gold of course is debateable!
For more on the Hobbit (lots of different articles here)
http://www.nature.com/news/specials/flores/index.html
Lots of different reports of little people and fairies:
http://www.paranormaldatabase.com/reports/fairydata.php
Some believe that floresiensis is a dwarf form of Homo erectus based on the evidence that it is not unknown for dwarf forms of larger mammals to evolve on islands. Others believe that they are a completely new species; others that they are merely a new race of our own species.
Could this species be behind the tales of fairies and 'little people' that have been told for generations? From leprechauns to pixies, there are tales of little people from all over the world; could these stories have started with encounters with the species Homo floresiensis? There is often some truth in folk tales and this would be an explanation for some stories, if people had encountered these little people in the past and the stories were then passed down through generations by oral history. Whether they had a crock of gold of course is debateable!
For more on the Hobbit (lots of different articles here)
http://www.nature.com/news/specials/flores/index.html
Lots of different reports of little people and fairies:
http://www.paranormaldatabase.com/reports/fairydata.php
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
NEIL ARNOLD: Chinese Monster Tales Part One
I have known Neil for fifteen years now since he was a mod schoolboy with ambitions for adventure and I was an earnest young hippy who merely wanted to start a club for people interested in unknown animals. Nothing much has changed over the years. We are just both a tad older....If you can track it down there is an intriguing book entitled The Man Who Sold A Ghost – Chinese Tales of the 3rd – 6th Centuries translated by Yang Hsien-Yi and Gladys Yang. Although most of the tales are cultural folktales there are a handful of strange monster-related yarns, perfect for any campfire.
The Ghost Met At Night reminds me of a Twilight Zone episode and reads as follows:
'During the Huangchu period of the Wei dynasty, a man was riding at night through Tunchiu when he saw on the road a creature the size of a rabbit with eyes like two round mirrors. This thing leaped up and down in front of his horse so that it could not go on. And when the rider fell to the ground in fright, the apparition tried to catch him. The man fainted away with terror. By and by he came to himself, and found the monster gone. He remounted and rode on for several miles till he met another traveller. After exchanging greetings he told the stranger his story, saying how delighted he was to have company.
The other said: “I was travelling alone, and am very glad to have a companion on the road. Since you are mounted and can go faster, you had better lead the way and let me follow.”
So they went on.
Presently the stranger asked: “What did that apparition look like to frighten you so ?”
He answered: “It was the size of a rabbit, with eyes like two round mirrors – a fearful sight!”
The other man said: “Look at me!”
The man turned his head. His companion had changed into the monster! This apparition leaped on to the horse, and the rider fell to the ground and fainted away. His family was surprised when the horse returned alone. Going in search of him, they discovered him by the roadside. He did not regain consciousness till the next day, when he told them all that had happened.'
Friday, June 26, 2009
THIS WAS JUST STRANGE
The other day we were in the graveyard of the little church at Lewtrenchard in west Devon; the manor once owned by the seminal British folklorist Sabine Baring-Gould. We were there because our dear visitors Naomi West and her mum (plus her husband Ritchie, but he doesn't come into this part of the story, so we shall ignore him for the moment) had read a novel in which Baring-Gould (who is actually a minor hero of mine) was the main protagonist.There is a family connection for me with the Baring-Goulds, albeit a tenuous one. When I was a boy my father had a friend - Crd. Roger Rowe - who was considerably older than him. However, they were beer buddies and until I became old enough to call him by his Christian name he was 'Uncle Roger'. He, apparently, was Baring-Gould's godson, and it was interesting to note the number of people called Rowe who inhabited the churchyard.
However, I digress (like I so often do on Fridays).
Lewtrenchard Manor is heavily haunted by a number of ghosts, and - of course - there are stories of ghostly black dogs in these lanes as well. However, I have not yet been able to uncover any stories about ghosts in the church or churchyard. But after we had paid our respects at Baring-Gould's grave, Corinna (as she so often does) was fossicking around the churchyard when she found something uncanny.
She found a small tomb that had been built on pillars above the ground. This often implies that the person inside had committed suicide, or died in such a manner that he or she could not be buried in consecrated ground. If they had been a person of no importance they would be buried at a crossroads like poor Kitty Jay, but if they were the scion of a noble family they would be interred within the churchyard, but above ground, neatly circumventing Ecclesiastical law and preserving social niceties (the mo
st famous example of this being that of Richard Capell in Buckfastleigh Churchyard).On top of this stone tomb was the decomposed corpse of a black bird (probably a jackdaw), and a piece of smooth bone several inches long. They looked as if they had been 'arranged' there, rather than dropped by a predator, and the whole tableaux was rather unsettling.
I don't know what this means, or even if it means anything. But it is yet another unsettling tale from the winding Devon lanes, which though picturesque and beautiful, are nowhere near as civilised and sedate as they may at first seem....
Friday, May 08, 2009
THE FINAL TRENCHE OF FOLKLORE ARCHIVES ARE ONLINE
Oll has been a busy little beaver and the latest set of scanned news clippings and other stuff from the Archiving Project is ready for you to download HERE should you want to..The CFZ Archives yeild up a particularly odd collection of stuff this time. There are my working notes for the book which I still have not got around to finishing on the mystery animals of Devon and Cornwallo. I started this tome in 1990, and am still working intermittently on it now, although bits appeared in both The Owlman and Others and The smaller Mystery Carnivores of the Westcountry, as well as various articles. However they also contain some particularly off stories, such as the one about the Philippino girl who was murdered and fed to a pet cat.
The next trenche oif archives (Big Cats) will start appearing either next week or over the weekend...
Monday, May 04, 2009
CFZ ARCHIVING PROJECT: The Fourth Trenche of Folklore Archives
Oll has been a busy little beaver and the latest set of scanned news clippings and other stuff from the Archiving Project is ready for you to download HERE should you want to..The CFZ Archives yeild up a mixed bag of odd folklore clippings mostly folklore reports from the Devonshire Association between 1892 and the early 1950s, but also another trenche of original press cuttings concerning the Cherry Brook Valley episode from the late 1970s when a number of dead ponies were found under peculiar circumstances...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
CFZ ARCHIVING PROJECT: First Trenche of Folklore Clippings now available
Oll has been a busy little beaver and the latest set of scanned news clippings and other stuff from the Archiving Project is ready for you to download HERE should you want to..The CFZ Archives yeild up a mixed bag of odd folklore clippings including the original press reports of the strange pony deaths at Cherry Brook Valley on Dartmoor thirty plus years ago. This stuff keeps on coming, and on the whole it ius stuff that I had completely forgotten about which is either a paen of high praise to the scope of the CFZ Archives, or a sad indictment of my decaying brain cells and my rapidly hardening arteries...
Sunday, April 05, 2009
RICHARD FREEMAN: STRANGE TALES OF JAPANESE OCTOPI
Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai painted the picture Dream of a Fisherman’s Wife in 1820. The picture depicts a beautiful Japanese woman being sexually ravaged by a giant octopus. It may seem strange to westerners, but it is not an unusual image for Japanese culture, because somehow octopi have a hold on the Japanese imagination. Several monster octopi turn up in their legends
Akkorokamui
In the legends of the Ainu people, the original inhabitants of Japan, this was a monster resembling a giant octopus or fish. It lurked in Funka Bay and adjacent waters off southwestern Hokkaido.
The 19th century Englishman and missionary John Batchelor, who lived among the Ainu , wrote firsthand a journal entry of an alleged actual incident concerning an apparent Akkorokamui in his book The Ainu and their Folklore.
Akkorokamui
In the legends of the Ainu people, the original inhabitants of Japan, this was a monster resembling a giant octopus or fish. It lurked in Funka Bay and adjacent waters off southwestern Hokkaido.
The 19th century Englishman and missionary John Batchelor, who lived among the Ainu , wrote firsthand a journal entry of an alleged actual incident concerning an apparent Akkorokamui in his book The Ainu and their Folklore.
In the morning, we found the whole village under a cloud. Three men, it was said, were out trying to catch swordfish, when all at once a great sea monster, with large staring eyes, appeared in front of them and proceeded to attack the boat. A desperate fight ensued. The monster was round in shape, and emitted a dark fluid and noxious odor. The three men fled in dismay, not so much indeed for fear, they say, but on account of the dreadful smell. However that may have been, they were so scared that the next morning all three refused to get up and eat; they were lying in their beds pale and trembling.
Another old 19th century account was made by a Japanese fisherman and was translated by cryptozoologist Brent Swancer.
And I saw ahead something huge and red undulating under the waves. I at first thought my eyes deceived me and that I was merely seeing the reflection of sun upon the water, but as I approached, I could see that in fact it was an enormous monster, 80 meters in length at least, with large, thick tentacles as big around as a man’s torso. The thing fixed me with a huge, staring eye before sinking out of sight into the depths.
Thomas Beal, a surgeon on a British Whaling ship, described being attacked by a huge octopus whilst on the Bonin Islands off southern Japan in 1835. He was rescued by his shipmates.
Another Englishman, Arthur Grimbal was also attacked but saved by his colleagues.
The Pacific octopus may reach 7 meters across the tentacle span but it does not seem large or aggressive enough to account for these sightings. Could we be dealing with a huge, unknown species?
Nurarihyon
In early legends from Okayama prefecture, Nurarihyon (whose name means slippery and strange) was an aquatic yokai from the Seto Inland Sea. He was said to look like a giant octopus or jellyfish and dived beneath the surface if humans came too close.
By the Edo period Nurarihyon had radically changed. He was then supposed to be the supreme commander of the yokai. For all this he is an unassuming, harmless and rather pleasant fellow. He resembled a green skinned man with an enlarged head shaped somewhat like a cabbage. In the evenings he entered people’s housed and drank their tea and smoked their tobacco. His manner is so confident he was never questioned.
Tako no nana ashi
An octopus with seven legs. These odd tentacled cephelopods haunted the seashore of Chubu District in the Edo period. They crawled up onto land to dig into graves and feast on rotting flesh.
Tako-ningyou
A human headed octopus captured by fishermen during the Meiji period. Make you wonder whether H P Lovecraft read old Japanese texts.
The Pacific octopus may reach 7 meters across the tentacle span but it does not seem large or aggressive enough to account for these sightings. Could we be dealing with a huge, unknown species?
Nurarihyon
In early legends from Okayama prefecture, Nurarihyon (whose name means slippery and strange) was an aquatic yokai from the Seto Inland Sea. He was said to look like a giant octopus or jellyfish and dived beneath the surface if humans came too close.
By the Edo period Nurarihyon had radically changed. He was then supposed to be the supreme commander of the yokai. For all this he is an unassuming, harmless and rather pleasant fellow. He resembled a green skinned man with an enlarged head shaped somewhat like a cabbage. In the evenings he entered people’s housed and drank their tea and smoked their tobacco. His manner is so confident he was never questioned.
Tako no nana ashi
An octopus with seven legs. These odd tentacled cephelopods haunted the seashore of Chubu District in the Edo period. They crawled up onto land to dig into graves and feast on rotting flesh.
Tako-ningyou
A human headed octopus captured by fishermen during the Meiji period. Make you wonder whether H P Lovecraft read old Japanese texts.
Friday, March 27, 2009
GUEST BLOGGER LIZ CLANCY: The Rochdale Goblins
It is always nice to be able to introduce you all to a new guest blogger. Possibly the nicest thing about the CFZ bloggo is that it is a living, breathing community, and new people arrive on a regular basis. I can't tell you anything about Liz, apart from the fact that she bought some books from us at Uncon, briefly spoke to Richard, and had a charmingly old-fashioned habit of referring to me as `Mr Downes`, when everyone else calls me `Jon` or `Hey You` (or somethimes something more scatological), until I told her not to. She is obviously one to watch...Touchstones is a charming museum, art gallery and local studies centre in Rochdale, Lancashire. It contains a wonderful little café where they serve best peppermint tea I have ever tasted.
My favourite feature in the former Rochdale Central Library building, however, is a small unassuming white telephone tucked up a corner in the local history section. There are actually several of these and not one performs the function intended by Alexander Graham Bell but my favourite will dial up any one of a four local legends provided you press the right button.
According to the over-enthusiastic actress employed to record The Rochdale Goblins (the best of these stories, in my opinion), the people of Saxon Rochdale (or Recedham as it was then known) wanted a parish church on the bank of the river Roche. Plans were drawn up, builders employed and stone was cut.
The morning after the first day’s labour the worker’s returned to the construction site to find it bare. After hunting the surrounding area all day the materials were discovered at the top of a steep hill overlooking the river. Everything was slowly dragged back down to where it should have been and tired but relieved, everyone went home.
Next morning, though, same thing again: all stone and equipment vanished, again to be discovered at the top of the hill. These trials went on for some days until some bright spark suggested the local goblins, who must have been there first, didn’t want the Christian edifice on their land and were responsible for the disruption of the work. It was thus decided Rochdale should take the hint; the church was built on top of the hill overlooking the town and river, consecrated in honour of St. Chad and still stands there to this day; intact and still in use.
Since Touchstones itself is built on the bank of the Roche, though, one must assume that goblins have no objection to cultural centres; either that or they are as fond of peppermint tea as I am.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
GUES BLOGGER NIGEL WRIGHT: That Old Devil strikes again
I had intended to have finished off my next blog for the CFZ Bloggo a few days ago, but due to the rather interesting news about new “Devil’s footprints” appearing in North Devon, a few days ago, I have decided to re-write my article. May I, at this early point, add my own comment on this new case. One thing of which I am certain is that I totally agree with Jon when he states that this is NOT a case of the devil actually appearing in our beautiful county! I am sure that there is a perfectly natural explanation for this new appearance, as well as the case from the 19th century.So, just what did occur in Devon, all those years ago? Well, here are the bare facts of the case; in so much as we know them. On the 8th February 1855 sometime between midnight and 6a.m. mysterious footprints appeared in deep snow, between Littleham village, in East Devon and Totnes, in the South Hams of Devon. These “footprints were cloven-shaped, and seemed to run one in front of another. The distance these prints ran for was truly amazing, as was the objects they seemed to climb over. In one instance they went over a 14ft high wall! Many “explanations” were offered at the time, raging from the just plausible to the downright ridiculous! For instance, someone, who must of suffered from a very over-active imagination, offered the answer that an hot air balloon had trailed a print-making device over the area, on the end of a rope, at night!. Fine flying indeed!
What is not so well known is that this is not the first of this type of event to have occurred in the UK. Way back, in the year 1205 (19th July to be precise) a series of strange “footprints” appeared during a violent electric storm. So, whatever the cause of these mysterious visitors really is, it appears to happen a lot
more often than we thought. Nor is these phenomena restricted to the UK, there are reports of similar events happening all over the known world.Why is this particular case so interesting to me? Well, I happen to live in Littleham! And the church in the village is where the footprints started from. So this is a case that happened not a mile from my front door. The whole area of East Devon is steeped in cases of extreme weirdness. From waves of UFO activity to black cat sightings and disappearances, and much, much more! But that, as they say, is a completely different story.
Friday, March 06, 2009
OLL LEWIS: Barking Up The Wrong Tree
Apart from the fact that his puns are terrible and he has an obsession with the more surreal side of Internet culture, Oll Lewis hasn't put a foot wrong since we started this bloggo-thing. Because of his interest in things aquatic he has been co-ordinating the lake and sea monster news for the CFZ for some years now, and as regular readers of this bloggo will already know he is letting this obsession spill over online. However, he alsoi has an obsession with Wales - no, not the big, spouting, there-she-blows type, but the principality.. What can a Prince’s dog tell us about a cryptid? Quite a lot as it happens…
The cryptid in this case is a most unusual creature known as the water leaper, or as Llamhigyn y dŵr in Welsh, and the dog is Gellert, the martyred hound from which, according to folklore, the town of Bedd Gellert in North Wales takes its name.
The Story of Gellert has become the most famous version of the martyred hound story. Prince Llewellyn the Great of Wales was given a puppy by prince John (later King John) of England that Llewellyn called Gellert. As the years rolled by Gellert became Llewellyn’s favourite hunting dog because of the animal’s loyalty and the affection he showed him, so when it was time for Gellert to retire from the pack he was brought home to join Llewellyn’s wife and baby son as a full member of the family. Gellert and the infant got along splendidly and seemed to form a close bond and when the baby’s mother died soon after Gellert was always there to comfort the child.
One day Llewellyn went hunting to catch a dangerous wolf that had been taking farm animals and even attacking people and left his young son at home with Gellert to keep him company. During the hunt Llewellyn found the wolf near to his home and gave chase but eventually lost it. This was an embarrassment for Llewellyn, who was famous for his hunting skills and had promised the villagers that he would bring the wolf’s rampages to an end, so he stayed out until the evening in a fruitless search for the wolf. When he returned home Gellert ran up to his master with his tail wagging and his face covered in dried blood. Llewellyn rushed up to his son’s room where his eyes met with a gruesome tableau. Blood was splattered all over the floor and up the walls, the cot was over-tuned, tapestries, furs and ornaments were thrown asunder and a large amount of blood was pooled all around a suspicious looking pile of sheets.
Believing the dog had murdered the boy, Llewellyn ran his sword though the hound in a fit of rage. However, as Llewellyn drew out the sword he heard his son’s cries from underneath the upturned cot. He ran over to the cot and found his son underneath it unharmed, so he ran over to the pile of sheets and pulled them up, to find out where the pool of blood had come from. It was the wolf Llewellyn had been hunting. After it had escaped it had come to the house and tried to attack the boy, but Gelert had protected the child and killed the wolf after a violent battle. Llewellyn was distraught upon discovering his mistake and ran over to the dieing hound. He held him in his arms and comforted him as he slowly bled to death. As the loyal dog licked his masters hand while the last of its live ebbed away the prince swore that he would build a memorial to the bravest and most loyal of all dogs atop the animal’s grave so that nobody would ever forget what had happened.
Such a nice story, however it’s all a complete fabrication. There never was a dog named Gellert. The tale had in-fact been invented by Bedd Gellert inn owners, the Pritchards, in order to entice tourists to the pretty little town. The towns name is thought in reality to have derived from it being the grave site of an 8th century Christian missionary named Kellert.
So that’s Gellert dealt with but what, you may ask, does that story have to do with the water leaper?
The water leaper was said to have the body of a toad but a tail instead of hind legs and wings instead of forelegs. Local belief in the water leaper was certainly strong enough in the 18th century to prompt shepherds not to use their dogs around the banks of llyn Glas for fear of an over zealous dog herding an animal into the water where ‘something’ would catch hold of it and pull the sheep to its doom.
The only detailed encounter with a water leaper ever recorded in print and was transcribed by John Rhys who was studying the folklore of the area in the late 18th century. The encounter took place sometime in the first few decades of the 18th century; a local fisherman called Ifan Owen, also known as Han, had had an awful day’s fishing;
Whenever Han had cast out that day something had nibbled at his bait and removed it cleanly from the hook without getting snagged on it or pulling at the line. Because Han made his living from fishing he grew steadily more annoyed each time his bait was stolen and eventually, when he could take it no more he moved to another spot, beside a small cliff in the valley.
When Han cast his line out here he felt something pull at his bait almost instantly and, not wanting to lose any more of his bait, he pulled his rod back much more sharply than usual to be sure of hooking the animal that had been getting away with his bait all day.
Having finally hooked his tormentor Han had to pull with all his might to get the creature out of the water. After an epic struggle the monster erupted out of the water it shot off the hook towards the cliff, so fast that, according to Han
“It dashed so against the cliff that it blazed like lightning”.
Han later recounted that if it were not the Llamhigyn then it must have been the devil himself.
Han claimed that both he and his father before him had seen the water leaper on several occasions and in a number of places along this stretch of water and it was said to scream loudly whenever a fisherman was able to pull it to the surface.
Unlike a lot of accounts of strange animals in folklore this sighting was said to have occurred within living memory of the time it was first committed to print. The person who related Han Owen’s tale to John Rhys, who printed it in his 1901 book ‘Celtic folklore, welsh and Manx’, was William Jones, who just happened to be a descendant on his mothers side of the Pritchards, who ran the local pub and hotel in Bedd Gellert and invented the tale of Gellert the martyred hound
The Pritchard family held regular tall-storytelling nights with relatives and friends from Bedd Gellert and the nearby parish of Dolwyddelen. Han Owen was regularly in demand for these nights as he had few equals in the area in his ability to spin a yarn and it was at one of these nights that William Jones first heard Han Owen delivering the tales of his encounters with the water leaper.
Given the dubious pedigree of the tale the smart money is on the water leaper having been one of Han’s tall tales, but you can make up your own mind about that.
The Story of Gellert has become the most famous version of the martyred hound story. Prince Llewellyn the Great of Wales was given a puppy by prince John (later King John) of England that Llewellyn called Gellert. As the years rolled by Gellert became Llewellyn’s favourite hunting dog because of the animal’s loyalty and the affection he showed him, so when it was time for Gellert to retire from the pack he was brought home to join Llewellyn’s wife and baby son as a full member of the family. Gellert and the infant got along splendidly and seemed to form a close bond and when the baby’s mother died soon after Gellert was always there to comfort the child.
One day Llewellyn went hunting to catch a dangerous wolf that had been taking farm animals and even attacking people and left his young son at home with Gellert to keep him company. During the hunt Llewellyn found the wolf near to his home and gave chase but eventually lost it. This was an embarrassment for Llewellyn, who was famous for his hunting skills and had promised the villagers that he would bring the wolf’s rampages to an end, so he stayed out until the evening in a fruitless search for the wolf. When he returned home Gellert ran up to his master with his tail wagging and his face covered in dried blood. Llewellyn rushed up to his son’s room where his eyes met with a gruesome tableau. Blood was splattered all over the floor and up the walls, the cot was over-tuned, tapestries, furs and ornaments were thrown asunder and a large amount of blood was pooled all around a suspicious looking pile of sheets.
Believing the dog had murdered the boy, Llewellyn ran his sword though the hound in a fit of rage. However, as Llewellyn drew out the sword he heard his son’s cries from underneath the upturned cot. He ran over to the cot and found his son underneath it unharmed, so he ran over to the pile of sheets and pulled them up, to find out where the pool of blood had come from. It was the wolf Llewellyn had been hunting. After it had escaped it had come to the house and tried to attack the boy, but Gelert had protected the child and killed the wolf after a violent battle. Llewellyn was distraught upon discovering his mistake and ran over to the dieing hound. He held him in his arms and comforted him as he slowly bled to death. As the loyal dog licked his masters hand while the last of its live ebbed away the prince swore that he would build a memorial to the bravest and most loyal of all dogs atop the animal’s grave so that nobody would ever forget what had happened.
Such a nice story, however it’s all a complete fabrication. There never was a dog named Gellert. The tale had in-fact been invented by Bedd Gellert inn owners, the Pritchards, in order to entice tourists to the pretty little town. The towns name is thought in reality to have derived from it being the grave site of an 8th century Christian missionary named Kellert.
So that’s Gellert dealt with but what, you may ask, does that story have to do with the water leaper?
The water leaper was said to have the body of a toad but a tail instead of hind legs and wings instead of forelegs. Local belief in the water leaper was certainly strong enough in the 18th century to prompt shepherds not to use their dogs around the banks of llyn Glas for fear of an over zealous dog herding an animal into the water where ‘something’ would catch hold of it and pull the sheep to its doom.
The only detailed encounter with a water leaper ever recorded in print and was transcribed by John Rhys who was studying the folklore of the area in the late 18th century. The encounter took place sometime in the first few decades of the 18th century; a local fisherman called Ifan Owen, also known as Han, had had an awful day’s fishing;
Whenever Han had cast out that day something had nibbled at his bait and removed it cleanly from the hook without getting snagged on it or pulling at the line. Because Han made his living from fishing he grew steadily more annoyed each time his bait was stolen and eventually, when he could take it no more he moved to another spot, beside a small cliff in the valley.
When Han cast his line out here he felt something pull at his bait almost instantly and, not wanting to lose any more of his bait, he pulled his rod back much more sharply than usual to be sure of hooking the animal that had been getting away with his bait all day.
Having finally hooked his tormentor Han had to pull with all his might to get the creature out of the water. After an epic struggle the monster erupted out of the water it shot off the hook towards the cliff, so fast that, according to Han
“It dashed so against the cliff that it blazed like lightning”.
Han later recounted that if it were not the Llamhigyn then it must have been the devil himself.
Han claimed that both he and his father before him had seen the water leaper on several occasions and in a number of places along this stretch of water and it was said to scream loudly whenever a fisherman was able to pull it to the surface.
Unlike a lot of accounts of strange animals in folklore this sighting was said to have occurred within living memory of the time it was first committed to print. The person who related Han Owen’s tale to John Rhys, who printed it in his 1901 book ‘Celtic folklore, welsh and Manx’, was William Jones, who just happened to be a descendant on his mothers side of the Pritchards, who ran the local pub and hotel in Bedd Gellert and invented the tale of Gellert the martyred hound
The Pritchard family held regular tall-storytelling nights with relatives and friends from Bedd Gellert and the nearby parish of Dolwyddelen. Han Owen was regularly in demand for these nights as he had few equals in the area in his ability to spin a yarn and it was at one of these nights that William Jones first heard Han Owen delivering the tales of his encounters with the water leaper.
Given the dubious pedigree of the tale the smart money is on the water leaper having been one of Han’s tall tales, but you can make up your own mind about that.
Friday, February 06, 2009
GUEST BLOGGER COLIN HIGGINS: Lovely lampreys
One of my favourite guest blogs over the last few weeks has been Colin Higgins from Yorkshire, who - incidentally - was the winner of the compy in last month's `On the Track`.As I have written elsewhere his article on the burbot awakened various childhood memories for me.
His article on tench did likewise, because it made me recollect a passage on the subject in T.H.White's glorious `The Sword in the Stone` (don't get me started on the execrable Disney version), and his latest article is no exception. Lampreys were one of my favourite fish when I was a child, and I HAVE kept them as pets, so just for you Colin, there will be some more lamprey related high-jinks in the next few days..
There are few animals so closely associated with regal self-harm as the lamprey. The only culinary surfeit I’ve come close to OD’ing on is Black Jack and Fruit Salad chews one Friday night in the late 60s while listening to Desmond Dekker on my friend Wayne’s Dansette. Henry I dug the taste of petromyzontiformes so much they dug him in return sending the dyspeptic Conqueror’s youngest son to meet his maker (I just get a vestigial sugar rush from early reggae).
Apparently the RAF made the current Queen’s coronation pie from lamprey which may not have been in the best possible taste given its latent regicidal tendencies. I couldn’t say, I’ve never fancied them with peas and chip or sushi style because however you look at it lamprey are very weird indeed.
As the most primitive living vertebrates lamprey go back 450 million years and exist on the very edges of taxonomy under the charmingly titled ‘stone sucker’ group. They have a single nostril on top of their head, a row of gill holes where proper fish have polite covers and a toothed, funnel like mouth with which they relieve other fish of their blood. Zoologically they’re not even true fish but occupy the same general space like an evolutionary remnant, an end-of-roll creature from an earlier earth, a forgotten subject in Darwin’s waiting room.
Although jawless the mouth - which vaguely resembles Flukeman from the X-Files but with extra barbs - has prodigious strength and they’ve been known to carry two pound stones while excavating a trench for spawning by the power of vacuum alone. Follow that Mr Dyson.
There are three British species; the sea lamprey, the river lamprey and brook lamprey. All spawn in freshwater and spend their first 5-8 years there as blind, toothless prides - we used to catch these on the way to school in the mistaken belief they were leeches. Only the brook lamprey spends its short life wholly in freshwater and is non-parasitic, the rest live an anadromous existence feasting on the vital juices of their host sea trout, cod, basking shark or whatever.
There are a few landlocked populations in Finland, Russia and Scotland and when CFZ set out to discover if a giant eel was at the root of lake monster legends it passed through my mind whether a sterile lamprey might be the cause, particularly for the horse-headed attitude eye witnesses sometimes describe.
In a fishing context they are mainly used as dead bait for pike, giving off a gory cloud as an added scent attraction. One always imagines them as a sedentary species but I know a chap who caught a large lamprey, cleanly hooked in the mouth while trolling artificial lures at speed so that primitive cartilagous form is no slouch. Although rare, there are instances of lamprey attack on humans while sea bathing, leaving their trademark seal-stamp marking on the hapless swimmer. “No bite marks officer, but it gave me a nasty suck.” They also have a unique immune system with biomechanical defences to detoxify iron - handy for Top Trumps or Pokemon spin-offs - which along with other bio-armoury makes them an exemplary medical research subject.
Nevertheless because of its decline across Europe, the sea lamprey is now given some legal protection. Failing acquisition of a pangolin, a gremlin or Top Cat, a lamprey is top of my list for future pets. Ugly it may be but it’s also slightly scary and rather cool. I’ll call it Norman De’Ath.
In a fishing context they are mainly used as dead bait for pike, giving off a gory cloud as an added scent attraction. One always imagines them as a sedentary species but I know a chap who caught a large lamprey, cleanly hooked in the mouth while trolling artificial lures at speed so that primitive cartilagous form is no slouch. Although rare, there are instances of lamprey attack on humans while sea bathing, leaving their trademark seal-stamp marking on the hapless swimmer. “No bite marks officer, but it gave me a nasty suck.” They also have a unique immune system with biomechanical defences to detoxify iron - handy for Top Trumps or Pokemon spin-offs - which along with other bio-armoury makes them an exemplary medical research subject.
Nevertheless because of its decline across Europe, the sea lamprey is now given some legal protection. Failing acquisition of a pangolin, a gremlin or Top Cat, a lamprey is top of my list for future pets. Ugly it may be but it’s also slightly scary and rather cool. I’ll call it Norman De’Ath.
Monday, January 19, 2009
CFZ PEOPLE: Let me introduce you to ... Arthur William Wood
Our old friends Claire and Scott Wood have just had a baby - Arthur Willliam Wood, born 15th January at 8.40am. Scott runs SELFS - the South East London Folklore Society, and was a welcome lecturer at the 2004 Weird Weekend. Congratulations guys...........
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