Friday, November 15, 2013
KARL SHUKER: The Dragons Are Coming!
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
KARL SHUKER - A TWO-TAILED ALPINE IMPOSSIBEAST!
Monday, September 05, 2011
DALE DRINNON: Sungod Dragonslaying - Apollo and Python
Since we had just mentioned the dragon 'Boas' of the western Mediterranean, I thought we should also mention the dragon 'Python' of Ancient Greece. The name 'Python' (POOT'un) means 'Putrescence' or 'Rotting' and it was said to refer to the putrid body after the creature had been killed. Other interpretations of the myth suggest that the name is merely the same as 'Typhon' but rearranged. The dragon guarded the sanctuary and oracle of Delphi and was associated with another dragon, a female named Delphyne.Read on...
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
DALE DRINNON'S WEDNESDAY POSTS
http://frontiersofzoology.blogspot.com/2011/08/alternative-info-on-orang-pendek..html
And then the follow-up part on Oriental Dragons touching on the point that they appear to be Euryapsids, like Plesiosaurs and as previously stated for the Viking Dragons and Gargoyles.
http://frontiersofzoology.blogspot.com/2011/08/taotie-tao-tieh-dragon-faces.html
And at Frontiers of Anthropology, the first of three articles submitted (in German) on the twin subjects of Jurgen Spanuth and the myth of Phaethon as describing the impact of some celestial body(Translation is still in progress for the other parts):
http://frontiers-of-anthropology.blogspot.com/2011/08/fall-of-phaethon.html
Monday, November 08, 2010
RAHEEL MUGHAL: The DRACO Classification System: A Different Approach to Categorising Alleged Dragon Sightings
Dragons are clearly not the stuff of legend. The dragon has been around in some form since antiquity, as Richard Freeman’s excellent book Dragons: More than a Myth shows. Nevertheless, the dragon phenomenon has manifested itself in a number of distinct forms, be they flesh and blood or supernatural in composition. The following study is essentially an extension of Richard Freeman’s brilliant research, and attempts to classify the dragon into several distinct but similar categories. I have also included a brief discussion of the particular categories along with some familiar, or in some cases less familiar, cryptids to illustrate the dragon type in question. The DRACO name is a play on the latin reference to dragons.
Dragonesque Dragons
These include dragon-like or dragonesque reptilian-looking creatures that superficially resemble dragons but might not be dragons on closer inspection. In Medieval times it could be possible that seemingly known creatures such as the sturgeon, Wells catfish, oarfish or large eels were given monstrous reputations by superstitious people.
Real Dragons
These dragons include the larger than life relatives (at 25-30ft) of the infamous Komodo dragon, and includes such characters such as the megalania or megalania-like giant reptiles reported from the Australasian region, including Papua New Guinea (Lake Murray) and Australia (giant lizards seen in and around the Grampian Mountains and Wattagan Mountains of New South Wales, respectively). In addition, the Kumi lizard of New Zealand was feared by the Maori and early settlers for its stealthy arboreal-based attacks on humans and livestock that strayed close to its domain.
Moreover, the Mokele Mbembe of the Lake Tele region of the Congo and surrounding tributaries of the Cameroons may be a large herbivorous dragon rather than a sauropod dinosaur. A point that can be used to lend credence to this idea is the Sirrush of the Ishtar Gates of Babylon. This creature is depicted alongside familiar animals that inhabited the Babylonian region alongside humans. Is it possible that a Mokele Mbembe could have been exported there as a gift to the queen? The Sirrush, if it really existed, does have a more than familiar appearance to a large monitor lizard rather than a sauropod dinosaur.
In Europe too there have been reports of large monitor-lizard-type creatures for centuries. The Lindworms (of which the Tazletwurm is a smaller variety) have been reported, though no recent sightings have emerged from this region; if it did exist it is probably extinct now. There was a spate of sightings in Italy during the early twentieth century of the Goro lizard. Similar in size to the afore-mentioned Australasian dragons, these reptilian oddities were even said to sport fur or hair, an implausible visage for a reptile.
Aerial Dragons
This category includes flying serpentine reptiles, which to a casual observer, may seem like dragons. These have also been seen over the centuries and describe more or less the same kind of animal. Sightings of flying dragons have been reported from Tanzania, Namibia, East Africa, Madagascar, the Arabian Sea and South America, among other locations.
Crocodilyoform Dragons
These dragons may possibly explain the lake monster and sea serpent phenomena. In Dragons: More than a Myth Richard Freeman suggested that certain lake monsters and/or sea serpents may constitute a relic population of elongated marine reptile from the late Cretaceous period – 65 million years ago. He suggested either Thallatusuchian crocodiles or mosasaurs (the apex predators of the Cretaceous). I also believe that at least one marine saurian may have survived the extinction 65 million years ago.
Here are a few lesser-known lake monster sightings that lend support to this view. Moreover, there are many reports on file that without doubt describe saurian sea creatures exhibiting features impossible for mammals or fish to emulate.
For instance, in 1934 at Campbell Lake, South Dakota, a farmer saw a giant four-legged dragon-like creature; there were many reports from around the area of animals and livestock disappearing round the lake. The farmer found huge tracks in the mud leading to the lake. Other similar sightings have been reported over the years by credible eyewitnesses.
At Menbu Lake in China during the 1980s there were many reports by terrified locals (as well as visitors to the region soon after) of a large, black dragon-like creature with an elongated neck and a dog's head. Animals had been vanishing near the lake, and many people claimed that they saw the creature snatch them and take them back to the lake. One man who was boating on the lake claimed that one day he was nearly pulled underwater by something large.
Occult Dragons
This category includes a diverse range of similar dragon-like beings reported from around the world and associated with many religions and cults. This category clearly contains many zoomorphic entities such as the Naga, which seem to bridge the gap with other seemingly paranormal topics. Examples of occult dragons include but are not limited to:
- The Piasa Bird of the Amerindians of the Missouri River, Alton, Illinois,
- Quetzalcoatl, the feathered-serpent deity of the Aztecs,
- The Ninki Nanka of the Gambia,
- The Chinese Elemental Dragons associated with the elements: Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, and Metal,
- The Persian Dragons of the Islamic Unseen World of Qaf,
- The Naga: snake-like humanoids that were said to have brought Science and Mathematics to humanity; they are said to be benevolent and kind-hearted towards humans,
- The Rainbow Serpent of Native Australian mythology.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
SIMULACRA: Enter the Dragon
Yesterday we posted a slice of YouTube video that shows a gorgeous cloud formation in the shape of a bird. Today our old friend Matt Williams writes:My Dragon cloud taken whilst flying...
can you see its head wings and legs... you may have to stare a bit but its there...
Matthew
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
MUIRHEAD`S MYSTERIES: A "DRAGON-FISH" IN HONG KONG - HONG KONG`S SECOND GIANT SALAMANDER?
Today`s blog concerns the Dragon Fish, a semi-legendary Chinese fish, which seems to have similarities with a giant salamander or giant newt, were such an animal to really exist. Today`s case is from The Hong Kong Telegraph of March 7th 1925 (1) There has only ever been one possible sighting of a giant salamander in Hong Kong, the controversial Sligo`s Salamander found at the Hong Kong Mid-Levels after a heavy rainstorm in the Botanical Gardens, the exact provenance of which is as far as I am aware unknown although it is now thought not to be a new species. (Jon?)
JON: Boulenger, EG: The Zoo and Aquarium Book (Duckworth, London: 1932). It is now thought to be a small and dark specimen of The Chinese giant salamander (Andrias davidianus)
There is no such giant newt in Hong Kong. There is the Hong Kong newt (2) but it is no giant. However, read on:
“DRAGON FISH”
STRANGE YAUMATI
STORY
According to the vernacular papers, which make much of “scoops” and sometimes embellish them, a strange fish has just been discovered by an inhabitant of Portland Street, Yaumati.
This is nothing less than the “dragon” fish, which derives its name from its elongated form and from the quality popularly attributed to it of sprouting legs along the line of its long body after life is extinct. The “sprouting” process is brought about by giving the fish a tap on its head”, and those of the superstitious Chinese who believe in this think they have in the strange fish one of the direct descendants of the dragon. Altogether a very fishy story, but the concluding paragraph in the report states that the man who brought it home to his house at No. 34 Portland Street has sent the fish to the Government Bacteriologist for examination. (3)
Portland St still exists, but is now a few miles inland from Yaumati or Yau Ma Ti. Perhaps in 1925 it was nearer the coast of west Kowloon where Yau Ma Ti is located and therefore this “dragon fish” was a juvenile crocodile? What fascinates me most is this “ tap on its head” business. How I would love to find someone who can translate the “vernacular press”. I`m working on it. I hope the next time Jon or Lizzy or Richard or someone taps me on the head and says “ho ho what a good Fortean you are” I don`t sprout legs; two is quite enough thank you!!
The once well known American author Pearl S. Buck wrote a book called The Dragon Fish in which she says (1944 edition?) : “It was shaped like a tiny dragon. It had four little feet on four short legs, instead of fins, and its tail was long and curling.” (4)
Buck wrote a number of books about pre-Communist China (i.e <>The Hong Kong Telegraph March 7th 1925 p.1
2 The maximum length is 11-15cm. Wikipedia.
3 Hong Kong Telegraph op cit p.1
4 P.S. Buck The Dragon Fish. The John Day Company 1944 p.16 Google Books http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=u1VaAAAAMAAJ&q=dragon-fish&dq=dragon-fish&hl=en&ei=ZZ20TLDwMY-TswbnxMyyCA&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CC8Q6AEwAA
BILLY BRAGG FROM A VAUXHALL VELOX
She said “Do these seats fold down?”
I said “if you pull that handle”
All the time she`d been waiting for
Something with a little more
And all her mates on the new estates
Were walking out in confetti and sunshine
Her mother read her mail
And her Dad was a policeman
Which I must say worried me
But some things have just got to be
So we passed very fast like ships in the night
Or cars on a contraflow system…..
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
RICHARD FREEMAN: Mystery of the dragon
As you may know my new book, The Great Yokai Encyclopaedia is due out anytime now. Among the many weird and wonderful creatures listed in it are Asian dragons. As anyone who knows me will tell you, dragons and their possible literal existence is somewhat of an obsession with me. Here is an excellent article about dragon sightings in China: http://www.theepochtimes.com/n2/content/view/30603/
Saturday, March 06, 2010
RICHARD FREEMAN: The Cabinet of Dr Yamada, Part 1
e Monsters, I came across a photograph that was labelled ‘sea-dragon’. It showed an oriental man standing next to a large skeleton supposedly washed up on Awaji Island and discovered by Dr Takeshi Yamada. The skeleton was certainly not a dragon or any other kind of reptile. It seemed to show a Steller’s Sea cow (Hydrodamalis gigas), the giant sirenian supposedly hunted into extinction in 1768. There have, however, been a number of claimed modern sightings and at least one alleged carcass.Awaji Island is an island in Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan, in the eastern part of the Seto Inland Sea between the islands of Honshū and Shikoku. It is
far removed from the haunt of Steller’s sea cow. This aroused suspicion. The picture looked photoshopped and a quick internet search revealed that Dr Takeshi Yamada is a member of the Minnisota Association of Rouge Taxidermists, people who created sideshow ‘gaffs’ or strange creatures much like the Victorian ‘nondescripts’. He was in Osaka, Japan in 1960. As an international exchange student of Osaka Art University, he moved to the United States in 1983 and studied art at the California College of Arts and Crafts in Oakland, CA and Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, MD in 1983-85, and completed his Bachelor of Fine Art degree in 1985. Yamada obtained his Master of Fine Art Degree in 1987 at the University of Michigan, School of Art in Ann Arbor, MI.These kind of gaffs have largely replaced real human freaks in carnival sideshows in the modern age. England's very own Walter Potter (1835-1918) made amazing constructions and diaramas from stuffed animals that were displayed at Potter’s Museum of curiosites until its tragic closure and dispersal.
In Part Two we look at some of his creations.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
COMMENT FOR KARL
Yesterday, someone called 'igm' commented on LINDSAY SELBY: Modern dragons . What he had to ask was fair enough:
"..who was not named for obvious reasons, the academic world being as it is"
Are we to assume that Shuker knows this person's name, or was his source anonymous to him as well? This sounds like cryptozoology's equivalent of the mysterious government insider of UFOlogy who weaves wild, anonymous tales without a shred of evidence.
If this person was a naturalist and saw an amazing creature unknown to science disappear into a cave, and was a person worried about their academic standing, wouldn't the logical thing to do be to go into those caves and get (evidence of) that creature him/herself? This is the orang pendek no photo controversy x 1000. It doesn't make a lick of sense and sounds like someone pulled Shuker's leg (assuming it was really a naturalist) to see if he'd buy the story."
However, in my opinion (and it has to be said that at the moment I am in one of my less pleasant bits of the bi-polar cycle, and therefore my judgement might well be wrong) the tone of igm's comment was more than a little brusque.
I have known Karl Shuker for the best part of twenty years, and he is a dear friend. Furthermore, he is someone for whom I have a great deal of respect, so rather than publish the comment as it was, I gave him the chance to reply to it, which he did:
Yes, I do know the person who saw this animal/entity - indeed, I know him very well and have done so for many years. He is not an academic, but is an extremely experienced field naturalist, writer and conservationist with a well-respected history in these areas, culminating a few years ago in his receiving an official honour in recognition of his work. In short, I have no reason whatsoever to believe that a hoax of any kind is involved here. The reason why I have not made public his name is that he asked me not to. Bearing in mind the nature of what he saw, he was naturally concerned how such a claim would be viewed, anticipating that there may be people out there who would adopt exactly the kind of attitude that has been adopted here. However, he categorically avows that he did indeed see what he claims to have seen - an airborne dragon-like entity.
I hope that everyone involved's honour is satisfied (including my own).
Saturday, February 06, 2010
LINDSAY SELBY: Modern dragons
This took place in Powys, Wales In March 2001.
A British naturalist and some colleagues were conducting some research in the area after being notified by a local of "something" strange that was seen earlier on the year. As they stood at the edge of some woods by a quarry they suddenly spied an extraordinary entity. Measuring 2.5 ft or son in length, it resembled a serpentine dragon with four short limbs, but its head was shaped very like that of a sea horse, and it was airborne---undulating and wriggling as it flew about 10 ft above the surface of the quarry in a wide circle. They were unable to recall seeing any wings, but it had a long tail that terminated in a pair of horizontal, whale like flukes. The entity was green in colour and shimmered somewhat, but appeared solid, not translucent or ethereal, and they watched it for 3-4 minutes, at a distance of approximately 50 ft, before it finally vanished into one of the numerous caves and large crevices pitting the quarry. The naturalist had the distinct impression while watching it that this creature was deliberately seeking to keep them at bay, warning them off from approaching further into its territory.
Source: Karl P N Shuker, Strange Magazine 22
Then in his book, Extraordinary Animals Revisited, in a chapter entitled 'The Unmentionables' he discusses it again, as the mysterious flying creature reported in 2001 near a quarry in Powys, Wales, which resembled a serpentine dragon with four short limbs, with a head shaped like a sea horse, and undulating as it flew about 10 feet (3.3 metres) above the surface of the quarry in a wide circle. Shuker wrote that this report came from came a bona fide naturalist (who was not named for obvious reasons, the academic world being as it is), who was convinced that:
“it was neither an optical illusion nor a model, but was truly alive, although its appearance was so uncanny that he felt chilled by the encounter.” (Shuker 2007 :. 281)
Interestingly enough, I came across this in historical records: folklorist Mary Trevelyan interviewed many elderly people living in the Glamorgan area of Wales in the early 19thC. They recalled stories from their youth of a race of winged serpents that lived in the forest around Penllyne Castle. Supposedly, they had crested heads and feathery wings and were brightly coloured and sparkled as if covered with jewels. They rested coiled on the ground but if they felt threatened would attack by swooping down on the intruders. These flying snakes killed poultry and were described as "the terrors of farmyards and coverts" many were shot to protect livestock .
What is interesting is that both the accounts talk of the creatures shimmering or sparkling and swooping on intruders. Is it possible that some strange flying serpent still exists in Wales that gave rise to the dragon stories?
Ref: Karl P. Shuker. 2007 Extraordinary Animals Revisited: From Singing Dogs to Serpent Kings CFZ Press Bideford, North Devon:
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
HARRIET WADHAM: Here be dragons
Normally on old maps you can sometimes come across the occasional ‘Here be Dragons’ or a picture of a scary-looking dragon. Don’t get all excited because there’s a 95% chance that the map-maker just put it there to fill a boring space. Cartographers used to decorate their maps with pictures of fantastical things, such as gods, dragons, harpies and beasts like that just to make it look more attractive.There are so many types of dragons that if you were to go on an expedition to hunt one down you may not know where to start! But be warned - there are such things as false dragons! Take, for instance, the Jenny Haniver. The Jenny Haniver is an ugly creature that has been made out of bits of other dead animals, such as chickens, mice and other small things. It is given a dragonish look by using a fish tail, then curling it into coils and curling the side fins over its back.
There are many stories about dragons, and usually they end up with the dragon getting killed and the hero returning triumphant to the cheering on-lookers. However, some stories have a different ending, like the hero dying after he has slain his enemy, or the hero and dragon staying alive. A good example is the story, The Laidly Worm of Spindlestone Heugh.
What happens is an old king (King Ida) is sad and lonely because his wife has just died and his son, The Childe of Wynd is abroad in a war againt the Gauls. Therefore he only has his daughter Margaret for company. After a while Ida decides to go to distant lands to find a new wife. While he is gone he leaves Margaret in charge of his castle and travels far away where lots of women try to get his interest but as they remind him of his wife too much, he ignores them. An evil sorceress noticed that he was rich and powerful, so uses all her charms and spells to make the king love her, and think of nothing but her, so eventually King Ida marries the sorceress and delightedly returns home to Margaret, who is ecstatic and dresses up beautifully before running out to meet her stepmother. A knight who is accompanying the queen exclaims that Margaret is the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Subsequently the queen is vexed and that night she casts a wicked curse upon Margaret, turning her into a laidly (loathsome) worm until her brother returns from his battle; and she is certain he has already been killed. In the morning the maids go to wake her up and upon finding an ugly worm curled up in Margaret’s bed, flee, giving the creature a moment to slip unseen into the countryside, where she cannot see anyone because her breath is so poisonous it kills the land for miles around. Eventually news of the terror of his father’s kingdom reaches The Childe of Wynd, who fearlessly returns and defeating the witch-queen’s obstacles, goes to slay this monstrous entity. Margaret is fearful of her brother also, and try as she might, cannot drive him away. She retreats to her lair in Spindlestone Heugh and coiled around a rock, waits for the prince. When he finds her he lifts his sword and prepares to strike - and the worm lowers her head and says in a small, beautiful voice: "O quit thy sword, unbend thy bow, and give me kisses three, for though I be a poisonous Worme, no harm I’ll do to thee." Wynd is astonished to hear the creature talk but being the bold type, bends and kisses the monster three times. Margaret’s scales fall off and the worm’s body withers away to reveal the pulchritudinous princess. The prince covers her with his mantle and carries her back to the castle where the king is over-joyed at seeing Margaret again. When the witch hears that Childe Wynd has triumphed she runs to her bedchamber but using a rowan twig, the prince counteracts all the witch’s spells back onto her, so she transforms into a large, spitting, warty toad.
I was intrigued to write a blog about dragons because I have a book called The Dragon Hunter’s handbook, which I got for my 10th birthday:
Do you like our hallway? :) Anyway, the next blog I’m doing will probably be about Greek mythological monsters (which I hope you’ll enjoy!!) So that pretty much sums up dragons!
Friday, December 18, 2009
MUIRHEAD`S MYSTERIES: DRAGONS OF SWEDEN
Today I present a summary of an article in Fate magazine concerning `The Dragons of Sweden`. Unfortunately I do not know when it was published; my apologies. The article is by Sven Rosen. Unfortunately the quality of the photocopy I have is poor so there are parts I cannot transcribe.
'In the mid-19th century Swedish newspapers published a number of reports in which people described encounters with dragons or giant snakes. Fascinated by the stories, the pioneering Swedish folklorist and scientist Gunnar Olof Hyltėn-Cavallius decided to investigate. From his studies he knew that such creatures, called lindorms, were widely known in Nordic Europe. Lindorms figure in Scandanavian mythology, in folk songs and tales and in the dragonesque style of the Viking Age. Throughout history descriptions of the creatures` appearance were remarkably consistent.Hyltėn-Cavallius noted, and now it appeared that specimens of this rare monster still roamed the Swedish countryside. So he set out to find a dragon….' (1).
This is Hyltėn-Cavallius` summary of his findings: 'In Värend - and probably in other parts of Sweden as well - a species of giant snakes, called dragons or lindorms, continues to exist. Usually the lindorm is about 10 feet long but specimens of 18 feet or 20 feet have been observed. His body is as thick as a man`s thigh; his color [sic] is black with a yellow-flamed belly. Old specimens wear on their neck an integument of long hair or scales, frequently lickened to a horse`s mane. He has a flat, round or squared head, a divided tongue, and a mouth full of white, shining teeth. His eyes are large and saucer-shaped with a frightfully wild and sparkling stare. His tail is short and stubby and the general shape of the creature is heavy and unwieldy…' (2).
'The dragon resides in dens and piles of stones, in wild and desolate places (?) marshlands, swamps or lakes.He often (?) been seen in the rocky mountains and forests east of Lake Ȧsnen. He has also been observed swimming in the lakes of (?) Rottnen and Helgasjön. Usually he (?) keeps his head two feet above water…he moves onward with the same kind of winding throwings as an ordinary grass snake…'(3).
'An encounter with a lindorm consists of of one or more of these elements;
1. Observation. The witness happens to see a dragon. The encounter is peaceful although the witness often is deeply affected by the snake`s appearance.
2. Pursuit. The snake, which moves quickly in an upright position and often snorts like a horse, chases the witness. (Of Hyltén-Cavallius` 48 cases only two deal with this type of event.)
3. Combat. The witness fights the snake (12 cases)
4. Appearance with other, smaller snakes (four cases)' (4)
Later the author describes the foul stench the decomposing carcass makes: 'The snake`s breath and the stench that he emitted after his death was so poisonous that I for eight days thereafter suffered from the aftereffects of it, and I and my companion could hardly come near to dead snake`s body [Case five.] The stench of the carcass, as well as the smell of the venomous liquid that he [the lindorm] vomited forth on me during the struggle was unbearable, and I was, because of that, confined to bed for three days thereafter, and was badly ill. [Case 23]….' (5).
'Descriptions of the lindorm appear frequently in Scandanavian literature from the 13th-Century Eddas on. Olaus Magnus, in his Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus (1555), mentions in particular the dragon`s hard, scaly body. Sigurd of the Eddas and Siegfried of the Nibelungenlied found that a dragon`s weak point is its belly; so did Daniel Nilsson of Värend in Hyltén-Cavallius` case four' (6).
The author concludes with considering a psychological explanation: 'One major problem with this psychological interpretation is that 24 of Hyltén-Cavallius` cases involve more than one witness. Many of the 31 additional cases with which I am familiar also had multiple witnesses. One can speak of “collective halluncinations” without effectively explaining anything. Still it is possible, in my opinion, that the parallels between the monster stories from Värend and the characteristic features of hallucinations are not entirely coincidental.' (7)
There is information in Lake Monster Traditions by Meurger and Gagnon on the lindorm.
1 S.Rosen. The Dragons of Sweden. Fate. (date ?)
2 ibid pp.37-38
3 ibid p.38
4 ibid p.40
5 ibid p.42
6 ibid p.43
7 ibid p.45
For reasons too tiresome and unexciting there are no lyrics today, I hope there will be tomorrow!
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
PAUL HARESNAPE: Weird Winkleigh 3
In this, our third and final foray into weird Winkleigh, we lift the lid on a variety of Fortean goings-on that all add weight to my belief that the village is a diverse and active ‘window’ for Fortean activity.
The Kings Arms public house in Winkleigh was built as a coaching inn to serve travellers on the ancient turnpike route between the cities of Exeter and Plymouth. Today it is one of two thriving pubs in the village and still retains its traditional thatched roof as well as, it would seem, two of its former residents:
‘"George been playing up lately?'' asks the chap in the tweed cap. ''Nah, but Cecilia was going some the other week,'' says his drinking companion.’ [A]
Known the landlords and locals as George and Cecelia, these two ghosts seem rather keen to remind staff and customers alike of their presence. George it seems is rather adverse to change in what must have been his former business or local and will register his displeasure by dropping breakables such as crockery and bottles in slow motion [!]. Cecelia is a mischievous little girl who apparently likes to hang on the aprons of waiting staff and knock over pots and pans to gain attention. [B]
But the intrigue doesn’t stop with George and Cecilia. One of the pub’s dining rooms, sited in what was formerly a courtyard, incorporates a glass-capped, presumably spring-fed well. Or so people thought until a team from the local Cave & Mine Exploration Group decided in 2002 to undertake a full survey of the ancient feature. They successfully drained what was found to be a 30-foot deep stone-lined shaft and were astonished to discover two 5-foot high tunnels, one leading towards the North West and the other in the direction of the church.
Silver and even gold deposits have been found elsewhere in Devon and it has thus been theorised that some enterprising villagers were engaged in surreptitiously mining for such precious - but highly taxable - metals! [C] However, I cannot help but think that as Winkleigh is home to a pair of legendary dragons, and, given the association between dragons and vast hordes of treasure - mightn’t they have been tunnelling for a rather different reason?
I grew up in the village of Witheridge, about 10 miles to the East of Winkleigh. It was whilst at primary school in the late 70s that I first heard of the ‘alien’ big cats the local farmers were sighting on Knowstone and Witheridge moors (both a few miles to the NE, towards Exmoor). The creatures were variously described as puma, lynx and leopard-like by rural folk who certainly knew their foxes from their badgers (!). A large number of sheep were being killed and the farming community had taken it upon themselves to track down - and no doubt eradicate - the elusive creatures. However, the killings continued and by 1983 the story was picked up by the press, who would dub these far-ranging cats ‘The Beast(s) of Exmoor.’
It was at this time that a resident of our village had a close encounter with a large puma-like cat whilst driving the school minibus. This sighting made headlines in the local and regional press:
‘I could have touched it...It came out of the woods in front of me. It had a long tail, a puma-like head, pricked ears and a grey-body’. [D]
As Mrs Yendell had been my next door neighbour for a number of years I can at least vouch for her integrity!
The Government of the day drafted in Devon-based Royal Marines; however, not only did the creatures avoid capture but sightings were being reported of large cats of varying descriptions the length and breadth of Britain. In the years since, there have been literally thousands of big cat sightings in Britain, with Devon consistently at or near the top of the sightings table, although like all Forteana, they have proven to be rather camera shy.
The authorities continued to deny the existence of these big cats right up until January of this year when - under the Freedom of Information Act - The Forestry Commission admitted that their own rangers had, on two separate occasions, watched big cats through night-viewing equipment whilst undertaking deer population surveys in the Forest of Dean, Gloucester, England. [E]
Moving closer to home, the North Devon Journal reported on 15th January 1999 that:
‘Newquay Zoo managing director and big cat expert Mike Thomas said a puma, with a territory of up to 40 miles and no den, would survive "brilliantly" in North Devon because of its landscape - a mixture of rocky, wooded and open spaces. "The climate is perfect for them," he said. "Their main diet would be smaller prey, such as mice, voles, rabbits and birds. There have also been some reports of cats attacking lambs." He said this sighting could be a second, third or even fourth generation puma which would have been born into the North Devon climate.’
No surprise, then, that there have been many big cat sightings in the countryside around Winkleigh over the years. Too numerous to list here, I would recommend the excellent website http://www.bigcatsinbritain.org/ and an ordnance survey map of the area to those wishing to learn more.
Local legend has it that a spectral black dog haunts the A3072 between Copplestone and North Tawton, to the south of Winkleigh and an area of former Roman occupation. This spectral beast has also been associated with the village of Morchard Bishop to the East of Copplestone [F] Details are elusive and it is a story that I personally would like to investigate further.
Finally, please forgive me for including this final Fortean legend as it belongs to the village of Colebrook, some 10 miles to the SE of Winkleigh. However, it is to my mind the most intriguing and elusive paranormal tale to come out of these parts. In the steep-sided lanes around Colebrook a phantom monkey is said to lurk. This creature apparently has red fur and attacks people! [G] Again, details are elusive but anyone who has read Man-Monkey by Nick Redfern will surely see an eerie parallel here....
Well, I hope you have enjoyed our third and final visit to weird Winkleigh. Personally, I can’t wait for the warmer weather so that I can pack up my tent and spend a long weekend at Cadbury Hill on the look-out for dragons, UFOs et al. If any readers of this blog have any further information on the phenomena we have covered, or know of any other weird happenings in the general area of Mid/North Devon, I would be delighted to hear from them: paulharesnape@yahoo.co.uk
[A] The Daily Telegraph: 14th March 2008
[B] http://www.jackiefreemanphotography.com/
[C] Ibid.
[D] Express & Echo: 29th March 1985
[E] The Daily Telegraph: 7th January 2009
[F] Weird Devon. Downes, Freeman, Inglis. Bossiney Books.
[G] Ibid.
MUIRHEAD`S MYSTERIES: THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY (A POEM)
I have in my possession a poem, or rather doggerel, about the Dragon of Wantley, which I found in Folk Tales of the British Isles, Folio Society (1985). It is far too long to reproduce in its entirety here so I reproduce 7 verses. But first of all, a little bit about the dragon him/her/itself:
'The Dragon of Wantley is a 17th century satirical verse parody about a dragon and a brave knight. It was included in Thomas Percy`s 1767 Reliques of Ancient Poetry.
'The poem is a parody of medieval romances and satirizes [sic] a local churchman. In the poem, a dragon appears in Yorkshire and eats children and cattle. The knight More of More Hall battles the dragon and kills it. The Wantley of the poem is Wharncliffe, as the dragon lived in a cave on Wharncliffe Crags, five miles to north of Sheffield, South Yorkshire, Sir Francis Wortley, the diocese ecclestiastic, and the parishioners of Wharncliffe had a disagreement on tithing and how much the parish owed (under the law of “First Fruits”), so the poem makes him a dragon. More of More Hall was a lawyer who brought a suit against Wortley and succeeded, giving the parishioners relief. Thus, this parody romance satirizes Wortley. The author of the poem is unknown.' (1)
The poem was transformed into an opera in 1737 attacking Robert Walpole`s taxation policies. Owen Wister wrote a novel, The Dragon of Wantley, in 1892 'It is a romantic story set at Christmastime in the early 13th century. The book was a surprise success, going through four editions over the next ten years.' (2)
THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY
Old stories tell, how Hercules
A dragon slew at Lerna,
With seven heads, and fourteen eyes,
To see and well discern-a:
But he had a club, this dragon to drub,
Or he had ne`er done it, I warrant ye;
But More of More Hall, with nothing at all,
He slew the dragon of Wantley.
This dragon had two furious wings,
Each one upon each shoulder;
With a sting in his tail, as long as a flail,
Which made him bolder and bolder.
He had long claws, and in his jaws
Four and forty teeth of iron;
With a hide as tough as any buff,
Which did him round environ.
Some say, this dragon was a witch;
Some say, he was a devil,
For from his nose a smoke arose,
And with it burning snivel,
Which he cast off, when he did cough,
In a well that he did stand by;
Which made it look just like a brook
Running with burning brandy.
Hard by a furious knight there dwelt,
Of whom all towns did ring,
For he could wrestle, play at quarter-staff, kick, cuff and huff,
Call son of a whore, do anything more;
By the tail and the mane, with his hands twain,
He swung a horse till he was dead;
And that which is stranger, he for very anger
Ate him all up but his head.
To see this fight, all people then
Got up on trees and houses,
On churches some, and chimneys too,
But these put on their trousers,
Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose,
To make him strong and mighty,
He drank by the tale six pots of ale,
And a quart of aqua-vitae.
At length the hard earth began to quake,
The dragon gave him a knock,
Which made him to reel, and straightaway he thought
To lift him as high as a rock,
And thence let him fall. But More of More Hall
Like a valiant son of Mars,
As he came like a lout, so he turned him about,
And hit him a kick on the arse.
`Murder, murder!` the dragon cried,
`Alack, alack for grief!`
Had you but missed that place, you could
Have done me no mischief.`
Then his head he shaked, trembled and quaked,
And down he laid and cried;
First on one knee, then on back tumbled he,
So groaned, kicked, shat, and died. (3)
1. Wikipedia. Dragon of Wantley. http://wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragon_of_Wantley [accessed Dec7th 2009]
2. Ibid
3. Author unknown.The Dragon of Wantley. Folk Tales of The British Isles. Folio Society 91985) pp139-144
Rich. Sorry no song lyrics today due to disorganized brain cells.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
MUIRHEAD'S MYSTERIES: Dragons
In the depths of my archives I found a story titled `The Dragon Farm` from a book called Avery Memorial. It was written by someone calling themselves 'C.C.C.' All other details are unknown. There is an Avery near Midhurst in West Sussex and one near Southampton. I have a vague memory of finding this short account whilst working in Warwickshire in the mid 1990s but I am not absolutely sure. However, the mention of Alcester (`Roman fort on the river Alne`) would seem to confirm the Warwickshire connection. The following is an abridged version.'Though I had often heard of The Dragon Farm and the curious chimney-piece preserved there, it was not until recently that I had an opportunity of paying it a visit. The house I found to be an old half-timbered one,standing upon a base of stone-work, and moated on its hill side. From the number of perpendiculars in the timber work and the form of the angle-pieces it would appear to be a place of some antiquity, though not belonging to the Saurian period as the local tradition would imply.
'The place derives its name from two so-called dragons,carved in oak, on an otherwise plain chimney-piece in one of the rooms, and the story told of them is as follows:- In that extinct age when the dragon and the wyvern, the cockatrice and the fire-drake, to say nothing of gigantic serpents, griffons &c,existed upon the earth, there lived at the farm house a certain man who had large flocks of sheep. To his great mortification, however, these, instead of increasing, decreased in number to an alarming extent. Whither the missing ones went he could not tell, and the rangers, woodwards and verdurers (?) of Feckenham assured him that they had not strayed in the forest; neither could he find about his own pastures any trace of their having been torn by wolves. In his distress he went to consult a holy man who simply bade him “Watch and pray”, and he therefore set his shepherds to watch while he betook himself to his beads. On the night following, the shepherd came to his master and told him that two evil beasts were dragging away some lambs, whereupon the men armed themselves with (with “guns” says one of my informants) and were quickly in pursuit. They followed the ravening creatures and saw them disappear with their prey through a hole in the butt of an enormous oak tree. Having found the den of the spoilers they quickly shot them, and the flocks thenceforth began to increase. On examining the tree they found the trunk quite hollow, and there was room within to turn a coach round!
'It was in commemoration of this strange occurrence,says the tradition, that the two so-called dragons were carved over the chimney-piece at the farm. An inspection, however, of the carving will show any one versed in such matters that it is a piece of very good work of the time of James I. Did not the date 1614 on a shield inform us positively of this.
'The creatures themselves should have been described as serpents rather than dragons; their tails, barbed at the ends, are interlaced, and the eyes in their regardant heads glare fiercely at each other; the teeth, however are those of a crocodile, though the tongue ends in what is intended to represent a sting. This kind of nondescript is not unfrequent in our neighbourhood and examples may be seen at Tookey`s Farm, at Alcester, and elsewhere.' (1)
A web site about the Ropen, Papua New Guinea`s supposed living pterosaur, says: 'What do dragons and pterosaurs have in common? Celtic dragons had arrows at the end of their tails, which may relate to ptero-saur tails. What about Rhamphorhynchoid pterosaur tails? Are not dragon tails also long? Perhaps most noteworthy are the wings: both pterosaurs and flying dragons have featherless wings' (2)
1. C.C.C. No. 247. The Dragon Farm. Avery Memorial. Date unknown
2.. Are Dragons Pterosaurs? http://www.objectiveness.com/dragons-1/ [accessed November 25 2009]
Talking Heads-Animals
I`m mad….And that`s a fact
I found out…Animals don`t help
Animals think…They`re pretty smart
Shit on the ground…See in the dark
They wander around like a crazy dog
Make a mistake in the parking lot
Always bumping into things
Always let you down down down down
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
PAUL HARESNAPE: Weird Winkleigh 2
Last week our foray into the Fortean goings-on in Winkleigh began with the legend of the firedrake dragons; revealing tantalising evidence that at least some aspects of the legend persist to this day. We now turn our attention to UFO sightings associated with the village and the surrounding area, before returning to matters of a more cryptozoological nature (and some ghosts!) in Part Three.
As CFZ Director Jon Downes has noted in the past, North Devon has never been a hotbed of UFO activity. [1] However, Winkleigh is something of an exception to this rule, with regular reports over the years of (mostly) strange lights in the skies, particularly in the vicinity of Cadbury Hill. [2]
Perhaps the most famous ‘light in the sky’ encounter was that of the 1967 ‘Flying Cross’, which occurred a few miles to the north-west of the village. [3] Witnessed in the early hours by two police constables (one of whom was based in Winkleigh) they chased the bright, low, pulsating cross-like object along the country lanes at speeds of up to 90 mph. There is evidence to suggest that this bright object was actually seen several times over a period of days. [4] Some researchers have claimed the ‘Flying Cross’ to be nothing more than the planet Venus; which admittedly was particularly bright at that time. [5]
However, the following incident, witnessed by at least two independent observers, still defies explanation after more than 50 years. Before we examine the encounter itself, it is worth appreciating the somewhat covert history of the airfield in question.
Constructed in 1940, RAF Winkleigh played host to the Canadian 406 Squadron who were developing and servicing the top secret, cutting-edge A1 Radar systems for Mosquito night fighters. It was also home to the ‘Black Squadron’, an elite top secret unit flying camouflaged aircraft on clandestine missions delivering and collecting spies and secret agents into the heart of Nazi-occupied Europe. Joe Kennedy, the elder brother of US President JFK, was for a time [6] stationed at the airfield before moving to Dunkerswell in preparation for ‘Operation Anvil’:
‘This mission was to be Top Secret…the target being the German V3 Supergun site at Mimoyecques, France. The details of this mission remained secret until 1966, although the identity of the crew was not released until 1970.
'The mission was to involve the use of explosive-laden PB4Y-1 Liberator bombers under radio control…at a pre-determined point the crew would parachute from the aircraft through the nose wheel bay emergency exit and the bomber would continue the rest of its mission under radio control, finally crashing onto the target.’ [7]
Sadly, on August 12 1944, Lt Kennedy was killed when his aircraft exploded over Suffolk during a test flight.
Furthermore, on 4th June 1944 ‘Operation Bigot’ would see RCAF Wing Commander Fullerton given the dramatic responsibility of personally delivering the D-Day orders out of Winkleigh to every airfield in the South West of England, an operation so secret that he could not even discuss it with his RAF counterpart, Wg Cdr Douglass-Hamilton. [8]
Although RAF Winkleigh closed in late 1945 it is rather fitting that the remnants of this secretive airfield served as the backdrop for the intriguing close encounter detailed below. Reported to BUFORA* some nine years after the event, it was re-examined by Gloria Heather Dixon in her document ‘Myths, Rumours and UFOS: Investigations – Summer 2009’:
‘In early May 1957, the witness, a long distance tanker driver from Yeovil, Somerset had a very unusual sighting and experience. He describes the incident in the following way:
“On the morning in question, it was fine, dry and a good light. I pulled on to the perimeter track at about 04.50 at Winkleigh Aerodrome, North Devon, a disused wartime Aerodrome, the idea being to have my flask of coffee.
After some few minutes, I noticed what appeared to be a ‘submarine’ on the end of the runway. My first thought was how did it get up there. Also, it looked very new. I sat and watched for some minutes and then thought I would take a closer look and got out of the cab and walked towards it. After getting to within some two hundred yards, it was impossible to go any further towards it. Just like walking into a ‘cushion’.
This was the very first intimation of anything out of the ordinary. Then this thing went straight up like an elevator for about 1200 ft and then went off towards the North Devon Coast. The speed was terrific. There was never any noise of any sort. There were no windows, no exhaust, no sort of movement that I could see. Possibly the tail fins were just a little more fluorescent when in motion. No green men…nothing. Please, I am not a crank, just a lorry driver. There were many I believe who saw this in the air. One other saw it on the ground. I would not have come forward either, but my wife suggested I tell you of my one and only experience.
I make no claims as to its identity.”
The witness describes the object as solid and a fluorescent blue metallic colour, almost submarine shaped apart from tail fins. It appeared to hover and slightly change in brightness. He describes its size as the length of an airliner (of that time) and height of 28-30 feet, and was only 200 yards from him when he first saw it. He goes on to describe how the object disappeared from view when it went straight up vertically and then northwest until lost to sight. He remembers the weather conditions that morning as being warm and dry with a clear sky and light breeze. The BUFORA investigator of the time was John Cleary-Baker and he comments in his evaluation that:
“The narrative has a ring of truth and is a most fascinating one. I think it deserves careful study. It is perhaps one of the most significant BUFORA has received for a long time and it is a pity nine years had to elapse before the story was told.”
Commenting further he states that:
“I am in no doubt that the witness saw a grounded UFO, which took off when he approached it. The ‘force barrier’ around the object is a noteworthy feature.” ’ [9]
Whatever it was, it may have revisited the area in the early 80s, this time a few miles to the east near the village of Kings Nympton. Multiple witnesses (one known to myself) saw a bright object hovering low in the night sky, which then suddenly shot upwards at an immense speed before disappearing from view.
To be continued….
* British UFO Research Association. (http://www.bufora.org.uk/)
[1] Weird Devon by Jonathan Downes, Bossiney Books
[2] www.jackiefreemanphotography.com/raf_winkleigh
[3] www.bbc.co.uk/devon/news_features/2004/ufos
[4] See: www.prufospolicedatabase.co.uk/2
[5] www.ianridpath.com/ufo/flyingcross
[6] www.jackiefreemanphotography.com/raf_winkleigh
[7] www.aviationmuseum.net/Joe_Kennedy.htm
[8] www.jackiefreemanphotography.com/raf_winkleigh
[9] BUFORA: MYTHS, RUMOURS AND UFOSINVESTIGATIONS –Gloria Heather Dixon
July 2009 http://tiny.cc/Bufora
Monday, November 23, 2009
LIZ CLANCY: Cryptokid strikes again!
Yes folks, he's at his crazy crypto antics again! Not content with subduing the Heywood Blue Dog and redeeming a Heywood Burney Dragon, Master Leo Carney, whose second birthday was last week, can be seen here watching a nice crypto-film about dinosaurs or dragons or something whilst boldly sitting on his newly conquered ferocious fairground-dwelling tiger-patterned tiger shark. Is there no end to this boy's bravery and talent? Tune in next week to see him tell Jon that Sisters of Mercy was a cack band....EDITOR'S NOTE: I only wanted to play the young lady the music I was listening to when I was her age. I had a trip down Floodlands memory lane, and she was just rude to it.
P.S. I am listening to Warren Zevon now. She treats it with indifference.
SUB-EDITOR's NOTE (I hope I'm allowed to do this...too late): I would treat the editor's 'taste' in music with less disdain if he was not so disparaging about the Pete Waterman era of Kylie Minogue's music...I should be so lucky.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
PAUL HARESNAPE: The Exe Valley Dragon
The strange light was seen
hovering for more than an hour over houses in Exeter.
Amateur astronomer Lee Betts, 29, believes it could be visitors from outer space – or that the sighting is at least unexplained.
Mr Betts took the photographs with the help of his telescope in the bedroom of his home in Newton St Cyres.
He saw the red cigar-shaped object hovering around 1,000ft off the ground four miles away, towards Thorverton, late on Monday night.
"I couldn't believe it at first," he said.
"The shape was about 100ft long and there were four lights coming from it initially.
"I saw it at the back of my house, which faces Thorverton, so I got my telescope set up and magnified the image 20 times and then took this picture. All this happened at around 8.45pm and it was still there an hour later.
"I've never seen anything like this before – it's unexplained.
"The shape moved slowly across the skyline and as I looked through my telescope it seemed to pivot on its central axis. It was very strange.
"It then sort of rolled around and a bright light appeared at one end of the shape.
Then, without warning, a sudden flash of light like a shooting star went across the sky."
Mr Batten, who lives with his fiancée, said he was pleased with the outcome of his photographs.
"The shape was about four miles away in the direction of Thorverton Hills," he said.
"I have been an amateur astronomer for the past three years and sightings like this are all new to me.
"Luckily, I could magnify my telescope which enabled me to take this picture with some accuracy."
He said the sky was different to normal on Monday.
"Clouds were illuminated for some reason and when I told my brother what I had seen he said the sky was also strange over Bristol where he lives," he said.
A police spokesman said they had not received any reports of sightings of a UFO in Devon."'
[bold text my addition]
A quick check on an O.S. map puts this sighting pretty much bang where the legendary dragon is said to have flown i.e. 4 miles from Newton St Cyres in the direction of Thorverton. This sighting also appeared in the Express and Echo and The Sun, and was actually described as a 'fiery' light rather than a 'red' light; the image shown on the attached report would appear to support the former. Not surprisingly, the Press have adopted the UFO angle on this and there is no doubt a simple explanation for what he saw that involves neither aliens nor legendary winged creatures.
However, as I sit and type this on a moonlit winter's night, I can't help but wonder if he did indeed observe the Exe valley dragon as it winged its way high above the countryside between Cadbury and Dolbury, lighting up the night sky with its flaming breath....
Keep up the good work, chaps!
Paul Haresnape
Saturday, October 31, 2009
RICHARD FREEMAN: Drake's Brier
army; the police in their helmets, armed with batons, crouching behind riot shields. They looked like Nazi storm troopers. Behind them loomed the diggers and bulldozers, their headlamps falling down like spotlights on the scene. They were an army and this was a battle in a very real war and we were ready to take the fight to them.I was crouching low in one of the lookout posts on the edge of Elf land. That’s what we called it: Elf land, the rambling network of tree houses and rope bridges that had been my home for the last six months. I glanced around taking in some of the faces I knew from the crowds of Elf-landers now amassed to fight for their homes and for the survival of Drake’s Brier Woods. Kingsley Evans, the six-foot punk with a pink Mohawk and an absurd voice like a cartoon mouse; crazy Lil with her shaven head and extensive tattoos; Billy the Troll, a hairy little Scotsman so called for his ability to dig and live in tunnels. Oddest of all was Mrs. Parkhurst, Elf land’s oldest resident, a 70-year-old widow from the little town of Drake’s End. She had hated the proposed relief road and fought for the survival of the woods from the outset. She had been living in the ragged conglomeration of arboreal shanties longer than I had.
I clutched the cricket bat to my chest and tensed myself for the police charge. Beside me were several petrol bombs and canisters of home made napalm; a nasty mixture of Vaseline, polystyrene, and petrol. I always knew it would come down to this; the final battle. But the reality of being there, the thick pendulous atmosphere, made my stomach turn over. Then from behind our ranks came a voice:
“And when he’d eaten all he could
And when he’d had his fill
He crawled away and wound his tail
Nine times about the hill.”
He stepped out of the shadows and pushed his way towards the front line. Walking forwards into 'no man’s land' he stood before the police and work crew as bold as brass. It was Goatface.
Goatface had always been a part of Drake’s Brier as far as I was concerned; a semi-legendary character. I played in the woods as a boy. My friends and I would dare each other to go deeper in; into where the light didn’t shine. Into where the mad tramp lived. He would come scuttling out of the shadows, muttering under his breath or sometimes loom from behind an ancient oak or yew, silent as a ghost. I guess he must have looked pretty much like the average tramp. He wore a fading black trench coat, even in the middle of summer. About it was tied a piece of hairy string in lieu of a belt. He had shabby grey trousers and hobnail boots. He had a long unkempt beard that gave him his name, always flecked with spittle, filth and crumbs. It was almost as if he was cultivating something in it. His weather-beaten face had a Faginesque hooked nose and two mad pallid eyes that shone out through the grime. He looked like some ungodly cross between Old Father Time and Albert Steptoe.
And the woods themselves were equally as odd. According to the maps Drake’s Brier covered around 300 acres. Yet it seemed so much bigger. Perhaps it just looked that way through a child’s eyes but the odd effect still struck me when I returned as an adult. Even at the edges very little light penetrated. It was filtered through the dense canopy of herbage above. This gave the woods an odd sort of constant verdant twilight. Everything seemed tinted green. In Drake’s Brier you could think yourself in the middle of the Siberian Taiga. It seemed so distant, so far from civilisation. And at its centre stood Worm Hill.
Worm Hill rose several hundred feet about the middle of the woods. Visible for miles around it was a well known local landmark. No sheep ever grazed there. It was encircled by rings forming tiers up its sides. The local legend was that they were formed by the coils of a dragon that laired in the hollow hill and came out to wrap itself about the mound.
We climbed up it on a number of occasions. We were always out of puff by the time we reached the top but it was worth it for the view. Miles of the North Yorkshire Moors were visible. On a clear day you could just make out Whitby on the coast to the east. We would run down the spiral coils in the hill imagining the size of the beast needed to make them.
My dad told me Worm Hill was actually an Iron Age fort and the circles were its ramparts. Apparently in the early 1960s a team of archeologists from Leeds University dug there. The dig only lasted a week and then closed down abruptly. Apparently nothing of note was found. The team’s leader, a Professor Amos Hartley, retired afterwards. The hill was left undisturbed ever since.
As we got older our fear of Goatface lessened. He never actually did anything to us. He was never aggressive or unkind; he was just there. You would see him in the woods; he might stare briefly, but then he would back away into the trees, like an animal. He lived deep in the centre of the woods. I only saw his home a couple of times. It was in a thick tangled stand of blackthorn. I stumbled on it quite by accident. He had woven the thorny branches together to form tunnels running to a central dome of woven thicket and corrugated iron with old bits of tarpaulin strung across it. A makeshift chimney rose from it, black and sooty.
It wasn’t us who gave him his name; it was an older boy, Keith “Beefy” Johnson. Beefy Johnson was the bully of Drake’s End middle school, though he was quite a coward on his own. Beefy usually had an entourage of henchmen, the Beefy Johnson Gang. They took to hanging around the woods. They gave the old man the name of Goatface. They would torment him screaming “Goatface, Goatface” over and over, throwing stones then running when he hobbled after, swinging the gnarled old walking stick he always carried. He wheezed horribly and dribbled phlegm down his beard. He mumbled and hissed but I could never make out the words; they sounded foreign.
Sometimes he would play strange music on a set of carved black pipes. The eerie, disturbing sound would float down through the woods sounding more like a piping language than music.
I was amazed when my Granddad said he knew him.
“Abner Skinner were his real name,” he said. “His family came from up Northumbria way. I knew him when I were at University down in Leeds.”
My Granddad had done three years at the university; rare for a working class bloke in those days. He studied farming and agriculture. It was not long after the war. He had been a bright lad and won a scholarship. He went on to farm rapeseed just outside Wakefield.
“Wouldn’t credit it would yer, lad? He were bloody clever once; best in the year. He wouldn’t have just been a farmer. He would have got a job down the Old Smoke with the agriculture department or something. I couldn’t believe it were t' same bloke, me.”
“What happened, Granddad; if he were so clever, like, what happened to him?” I asked.
“Went mad, son; mad as bag of spoons! He got a dose of religion. Don’t ask me which one. Some crackpot foreign rubbish I think. Anyways, he found this old book in one of them creaky old bookshops up Hebden Bridge way. Said it told him how to grow crops really fast and no matter how poor the soil was. Somethin’ to do with old gods and earth fertility. The more he read the loonier he got. He would wander up onto the moors and in the woods for days on end. Miss lectures, never wash, come back to his digs covered in dirt and blood. Some of the other students said he was sacrificin’ cats and chickens to somethin’ up in Drake’s Brier but I can’t say if it were true or not. He said he had a theory that would revolutionise farming. Said there would be no hunger ever again. Now this was just after the war. People was still being rationed. Happen as that’s why his tomfoolery was tolerated up at the University, to a point. He could have made it big. I think he could have really done somethin’ special; groundbreaking. But then one night he was caught wandering through campus covered in mud and blood, screamin’ his ruddy head off. He was thrown off the course and kicked out his lodgings. He just upped and left for the woods. Lived there ever since. Never been right in the head since. He’s a wrong 'un, that bloke.”
I often wondered what the old man lived off. I supposed he must pick berries and grow his own food. I thought he must have some livestock because on several occasions I heard him mention “feedin’ it.” It seemed to be the only words he said that were not gibberish.
The Beefy Johnson gang continued to torment Goatface for a couple of years. Then Beefy disappeared. No body was ever found despite a massive police search. No one was ever charged. I supposed they would have questioned old Abner Skinner but I never heard anything about it. The Johnsons moved away down south. Some of the people in the village suspected “that mad old bastard up the woods” had done Beefy in. They spoke darkly about him but no one ever did anything. My Mum wouldn’t let me play in those woods after that. My mate’s mums all did the same thing. That was in the summer of 1977. I didn’t see Goatface again for years.
I grew up, left school, attended college, and finally moved away to study ecology at Cardiff University. I joined Greenpeace there and went on several protest marches and rallies. It was just after my graduation that I heard of the government plans to run a road straight through my childhood playground.
There were bee orchids in Drake’s Brier; there were red squirrels. Some said there were even mouse-eared bats; stuff that you rarely find elsewhere. The woods were like a little national park. The plan was to run a relief road through the woods and skirt around Worm Hill. It would destroy many acres and bisect the forest. The danger the heavy traffic would pose to wildlife was obvious.
I left immediately to join the direct action protest. The thought of another piece of green stripped away forever made my blood boil. The fact that it was ‘my’ piece of green made me all the more angry.
The group grew over the weeks and months, as did Elf land. I was surprised to find Goatface was still alive and well. We didn’t see him that often. Usually we would hear his unsettling music rising through the woods when the moon was fat. A wet, reedy, piping, pregnant with strangeness. When we did bump into him on some deep woodland path he would never speak but gave us a nod as if he knew what we were doing and was grateful. I almost got to like him. Almost.
We had cost the government hundreds of thousands of pounds and had put their nasty little project back months. Roadblocks, iron spikes in tires and caterpillar tracks, sand in engines; we tried all the tricks. Now it looked like it was all over. We were well entrenched but vastly outnumbered. All that stood between the police and the diggers and us was Abner Skinner; old Goatface.
The sun was crawling behind the horizon, throwing the whole scene into the ethereal cloak of twilight. The old man cast off the huge trench coat and stood bare-chested. His scrawny body was a network of scars. Strange symbols were carved into his flesh. I had an unpleasant feeling that they were self-inflicted.
He threw back his head and bellowed; an animalistic primal scream that I found hard to equate with such a frail-looking old man. Then he began his jabbering. If they were words then they were not in any language known to me. They sounded more like guttural snorts, high-pitched whines, and horrid chitterings. Perhaps they were vestiges of the original, primal, uber language rising up from the old man’s subconscious. Who knows? The police must have been slightly taken aback as they didn’t do anything. At the height of his maniacal ravings he threw back his head and whipped a black-bladed knife out of his malodorous pocket. Quick as a flash he was cutting signs in his own flesh, opening up swirls and curves of flesh that wept tears of blood. His hands moved fast across his pigeon chest whilst his face seemed lost in a ghastly expression of almost orgasmic ecstasy. As the rills of gore fell into the dust he shrieked something that I think must have been an invocation, a calling, the name of… something.
“IA!IA! LLOIGOR!”
There was a dry rustling from the woods behind us. Something stirred the treetops and made the dead leaves dance tiny waltzes. The ground began to tremble as if something were stirring beneath our feet. A murmur broke out among the ranks then someone noticed that the police were staring not at us but behind us.
As one, the crowd turned and looked up at Worm Hill. There seemed to be an odd kind of nimbus about it, like a heat haze. It seemed to trace a path down the ruts that encircled the hill. The effect seemed to move with an ophidian grace. It ran like water down the tracks forming coils about the hill. As I watched, trying to work out what was causing the strange sight, I noticed that it seemed to be solidifying. The haze was becoming more like a greenish light.
The front end of the phenomenon reached the foot of the hill and seemed to slide into the trees. There was a rustling in the woods that began to grow as coil after coil of the green light slithered down from the hill and entered the woods.
None of us knew what it was. I think we were all imagining it to be some kind of trick Skinner had engineered. I recall being impressed at that point and wondering how the old bugger had pulled it off. None of us were ready for what came next.
Out of the woods came a sound. It was like nothing I’d ever heard. I could try to explain it as being bird-like; a sort of thundering screech. But that would not do it justice. It had more bass. It was almost as if the sound was inside my head rather than external, but I know that can’t be right as I saw the others react to it. The noise seemed to stir something deep in my memory. Something bad.
There was another sound accompanying the screech. It was like the sails of an old-fashioned ship unfurling or huge carpets being beaten. I realised with shock that I was listening to the beating of huge wings.
We didn’t scream, not a first. We couldn’t even move. What came crashing out of those woods; half slithering, half flapping; burnt itself onto the mind of everyone that saw it together with one word: ‘dragon.’
It was huge: hundreds of feet long. It rose from the shadows of Drake’s Wood, its titan bat wings half open. Armoured scales glistened an iridescent green, the sheen making rainbow patterns like oil on water. Four tree-trunk-thick legs terminated in clutching scythe-talons. The tail seemed to trail on endlessly into the woods with an unceasing writhing and coiling. At the end of the long neck was a horned head, a reptilian nightmare. I saw row upon row of curved white teeth, strong as steel and sharp as razors. A great forked tongue flickered in and out of the scimitar-lined jaws, tasting the air. Caustic saliva dripped from the maw, hissing like water on a hot plate.
It wasn’t the teeth that scared me the most. It was the eyes. Vast orbs of golden fire with black slits. They looked so old; so very, very old and as it turned to glance down at the Elf-Landers it regarded them with a vile understanding.
The wings opened and beat once. It was up and over the crowd, landing with uncanny agility in ‘no man’s land.’ The jaws opened and it spat forth a white fire. Bulldozers exploded, cartwheeling high in the air and crashing down in charred ruin. The police caught in the blinding, white-hot blast were dead before they hit the floor. The heat boiled their innards, sending them vomiting from their own mouths as flaming liquid flesh. They danced briefly like ghastly marionettes before becoming whips of carbon.
Those who escaped the blast ran, bowels emptying. The dragon fell upon them and the jaws flashed down and seized a victim. It hoisted him aloft and shook him in the manner a bull terrier might shake a rat. Again and again the jaws flashed as it snapped up human prey with a lurid wet crunching.
A handful of the men had escaped, running madly into the night. The beast could have easily caught them or struck them down with a jet of flame. I think it wanted them to escape. It wanted them to tell their masters what they had seen at Drake’s Brier. I was doubled up, retching, as were most of the other protesters around me. Some had fouled themselves. I saw Billy the Troll scoop up a prone Mrs Parkhurst and run for cover.
It screeched again and some dark memory rose inside me. I was a frightened ape running across a plane under a hot sun, running for my life. A puny mammal that shat and pissed as it scampered for cover with other mewling members of its kind. A massive black shadow fell across the land as an airborne predator whirled above us. The screech came again, echoing through the ages, through the countless generations, across species and into the present day. The race memory faded leaving me in spasms. I heard a human voice and my mind clutched at it like a drowning man grabbing a branch.
“I knew he’d come, the old Wyrm. He’d come all right if he thought his home was getting messed with.” I heard Abner hiss. “Him’s like an adder, hibernates but as an adder sleeps months he can sleep aeons. There’s loads of 'em all over the world. Just not time for 'em to wake up yet.”
He began to laugh, almost doubling up as much as me in my sickness. The monstrous creature folded its titan wings and slithered back into the woods. As it went it seem to be losing form again, becoming more ethereal. I turned my head up towards the hill and saw the shimmering coils slipping ghost-like into the side of the hill itself. Goatface, his wounds now quite healed, calmly picked up his coat and followed it. I wondered about his words, about just when would be the right time for them to wake up.
I never went back to Drake’s Brier. The government abandoned its plans for the relief road. An enquiry into what happened stated that one of the bulldozers had exploded due to a serious electrical fault. The flames had engulfed several more machines and ignited their petrol tanks. The men were killed in the ensuing explosion. I have not seen any of my old friends from Elf land. I think that like me they have given up direct action. I now live in central London, as far as I can from any wood. Still, when the wind whips up the trees in the park, making the branches sway, or clouds send big shadows sweeping across the land, I shake. And the ancient screech of the dragon still reaches down through time to haunt what little sleep I have.





