Where Dragons Soar: And Other Animal Folk Tales of the British Isles

by Castle, Pete;

  As soon as the Stoorworm’s death-agony ended and the smoke cleared, Assipattle mounted Teetgong, stroked the horse’s left ear and led a procession of rescued children to the king’s palace. There, he asked for princess Gem-de-Lovely’s hand in marriage. The king dressed Assipattle in a crimson robe and girded the sword Sikkersnapper, which had been handed down from Odin himself, round his waist. Then Assipattle and Gem-de-Lovely were married and such a wedding had never been seen.

  Assipattle’s dreams had come true, he had a wife, a castle and lands to rule; lands which stretched north, south, east and west. Assipattle’s father and brothers also prospered, for they set up a quarry in the place where the moon’s horn had fallen to earth and their cow-horn spoons gave way to moon-horn spoons which were famous in those parts ever afterwards.

  Assipattle and Gem-de-Lovely lived happily ever after and had many fine children and, if they are not dead, they are living yet …

  This story from Orkney is not far removed from the Norse creation myth, in which the world was created from the body of Ymir when he was slain by Odin, Vili and Vé. There were many Stoorworms, or sea serpents, but this one was the ‘mester’ or master, i.e. the largest. Assipattle is a nickname for someone who likes to laze in the warmth of the fire rather than go about their business. You will find many such people in folk tales.

  NESSIE, THE LOCH NESS MONSTER

  Now we are established on our way through this exploration of the animal kingdom, but before we leave dragons and move on to more homely creatures, let’s consider what is arguably the best-known serpent of all. Nessie, the Loch Ness monster, is surely one of the most famous monsters in the world – and one of the best loved. She, for it is usually considered to be a she, has earned a friendly nickname and her image, in a cuddly, smiley form, is used to sell everything from tourism to trinkets. She is an ad-man’s dream! But this was not always the case.

  Stories of water monsters (often called ‘kelpies’) have been common for as long as anyone knows – in rivers, lakes and lochs, as well as in the seas all round Britain; but particularly so in Scotland. The first mention of a monster in the Loch Ness area dates back to the sixth century CE, but on that occasion it was in the river which flows into the loch rather than in Loch Ness itself.

  The story goes that the Irish monk and missionary St Columba was travelling through the land of the Picts when he came across a group of people burying a man beside the River Ness. When Columba asked what had happened they explained that he had been swimming in the river when a water beast had attacked him and dragged him under. They had tried to rescue him with a boat but had failed and were only able to retrieve his dead body. To their amazement St Columba then ordered his friend and companion, Luigne moccu Min, to jump in and swim across the river. Moccu Min may have been surprised, and was probably frightened, but he did as he was asked and dived in. He had not gone far when the beast appeared and made for the man. Everyone was horrified and expected moccu Min to meet the same fate as the man whose body they had just found, but St Columba made the sign of the cross and commanded, ‘Go no further. Leave the man alone. Return from whence you came!’

  The beast stopped as if restrained by ropes, then turned and swam off at top speed. Both St Columba’s followers and the pagan Picts gave thanks and praised God.

  No more was heard of a Loch Ness monster for over 1,000 years, until 14 April 1933 in fact, when John Mackay and his wife spotted ‘something resembling a whale’ as they drove past the loch. Was it coincidence that this happened in 1933, or was there ‘something in the air’, for it was also in 1933 that the original version of the film King Kong was released! Monsters were the fashion. Perhaps it was a relief from the miseries of the economic situation?

  Ever since then ‘monster mania’ has gripped the region and the whole of the local economy is based on it through tourism and monster hunting. The image of the creature has gradually coalesced to become a form of plesiosaur, although that does not really make sense of the sightings on the loch shore …

  The story of St Columba is found in Adomnán of Iona’s Life of Columba which was copied at Iona during, or shortly after, Adomnán’s lifetime.

  Many other saints had dealings with ‘wurms’ or snakes, most notably St Patrick. Naturalists will tell you that there have never been snakes in Ireland as there was no way for them to colonise the island after the Ice Age, but legend tells that they were there until St Patrick banished them.

  A very similar tale is told of St Hilda of Whitby. She used a whip to cut off their heads and their remains can still be found on the beach. (They are, of course, fossil ammonites.)

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  MAN’S BEST FRIEND

  Dogs are generally considered to be ‘man’s best friend’. They were, arguably, the first animals to be domesticated and have continued to be one of the favourite pets and most useful assistants in all kinds of fields, from guarding to hunting and tracking; for transport; for use as hand warmers; as eyes, ears and even, in some places, as food!

  People have always wondered how and when the first dogs were domesticated. In the past it was thought that various species of dogs were tamed at different times in different places in prehistory, but now, since the dog’s genome has been mapped, it has been proved that all dogs, whether they are St Bernards or Chihuahuas, are descended from wolves.

  One of the dog’s most valued assets is faithfulness and that is illustrated in these next two stories, which both claim to be true … but almost certainly aren’t! (In fact, both could be described as scams designed to boost tourism!)

  GREYFRIARS BOBBY

  If you’ve ever been on the tourist trail in Edinburgh you’ve probably visited the famous statue of Greyfriars Bobby which stands at the corner of Candlemaker’s Row and the George IV Bridge, in the centre of the city. It is one of the ‘must see’ sights.

  Bobby was a Skye terrier owned by John Gray, a nightwatchman in the city. When John Gray died he was buried in Greyfriars Kirkyard and Bobby took up residence on his grave. He stayed there for the next fourteen years until he, too, died in 1872. His faithfulness so impressed people that Lady Burdett-Coutts had the statue erected so that he would be remembered. (Some people have dared to suggest that there were several Bobbies over the years and when one died or disappeared he was surreptitiously replaced because he attracted sightseers! But no one would dare do that, would they?)

  GELERT, THE FAITHFUL HOUND

  The village of Beddgelert (pronounced Beth-GEL-ert, with the accent on the GEL) is in Snowdonia in North Wales about halfway between Porthmadog and Snowdon itself. It is in the heart of the Snowdonia tourist area and is visited by thousands of people every year, many of whom come because of this famous story. It was a story much beloved by the Victorians and it can be found in many old books for children.

  Prince Llewelyn the Great, also known as Llywelyn ap Lorwerth or Llywelyn Fawr, married Princess Joan, a daughter of King John of England, and part of the dowry was a fine wolfhound named Gelert. Llewelyn and Gelert became inseparable – I suspect that he might have loved the dog more than he loved Joan! Gelert was a fine hunting dog, fierce and fearless. He would face up to a wolf or boar, or drag down a deer and enjoy it as much as his master. He was also very protective of his master and of his master’s property.

  One day Llewelyn went hunting in the nearby forest. They had a good day, but at some stage Llewelyn realised that Gelert had gone missing. Llewelyn wasn’t too worried; he assumed the dog had gone off on an errand of his own, chasing a boar or sniffing out an interesting trail. He was sure he would make his own way home some time.

  Late that afternoon Llewelyn arrived back at his castle and strode into the hall to find it in chaos: the rushes on the floor were scattered all around and piled in heaps, their dust filled the room and hung in the air; tapestries had been torn from the walls and pictures hung askew; tables and benches were overturned and cushions and drapes lay in random piles. There was no sign of his wife, but in one corn
er of the room was the cradle in which he expected to find his son. It was upside down and beside it lay bloodstained covers. For a split second Llewelyn imagined that the castle must have been attacked by outlaws, but then Gelert came whimpering and cowering from behind a piece of furniture.

  The dog’s face and jaws were covered in blood and a piece of cloth Llewelyn recognised as belonging in the baby’s cot was draped across his back. Gelert cowered and behaved as dogs do when they know they have done something likely to offend their master. Llewelyn didn’t have to think, he knew what had happened, his faithful Gelert had been overcome by jealousy, had run home and had attacked and killed the baby. In a split second Llewelyn drew his sword and plunged it into the dog’s side.

  Gelert’s dying whimper was echoed by another similar sound from under the upturned cradle. Llewelyn dragged it aside and there, unharmed, was his baby son. And sticking out from under the drapery was the leg of another animal. Llewelyn pulled the covers aside and found the body of a huge wolf covered in blood and wounds. He could only imagine the tremendous fight which had taken place as Gelert saved his son from the ferocious beast.

  Llewelyn collapsed in tears of grief and joy mixed in fairly equal proportions. His son was alive, but it was too late to do anything to save Gelert who was already dead. Llewelyn is said never to have smiled again, but he built the grave to his faithful dog so that its bravery would be remembered for ever – the grave that is now visited by so many tourists. The story has caught the imagination of many generations of people from that day on.

  The main events of this story are found in the folk tales of many countries in Europe and even further afield – in India, a similar tale features a mongoose and a snake. It is possibly one of man’s oldest tales.

  The village of Beddgelert was probably named after the early Christian saint, Celert or Kilart, rather than the mythical dog, but in the late seventeenth century David Pritchard, the landlord of the Goat Hotel, heard the story of the faithful hound and used it to entice travellers to the village. He was the person responsible for building the grave on which you can find the bare bones of the story.

  Black Shuck and Other Spectral Dogs

  Black Shuck is the name given, loosely, to various spectral black dogs. It is often referred to as an East Anglian phenomenon, and that is where the name comes from, but stories of similar ghostly dogs are found all over the country. I included one in my book, Nottinghamshire Folk Tales. Here are some more. But first let’s set the scene and build an atmosphere …

  If you are walking home late in the evening, in the pitch dark of a country lane, with the wind rustling in the hedgerows and the unidentifiable sounds of nature all around you, you may be forgiven for feeling apprehensive, or even downright scared! If you then become aware that some of those sounds seem to be the padding footsteps of a large animal which is following you, you’d be very unimaginative if you weren’t scared. In fact, you could be forgiven for screaming and running as fast as you could … except that would probably do you no good at all because you couldn’t outrun it, could you? Whatever it was.

  If you are in East Anglia, the creature which is following you might well be Black Shuck. Black Shuck is a huge black dog, sometimes with just one eye, ‘as big as a dinner plate’, as Hans Anderson would have it, in the middle of its forehead.

  Shuck might be out to harm you, but more likely he will ignore you as if your world and his do not meet. Sometimes, though, he has been known to help – to guide you home, particularly if you are a woman or are lost.

  THE SUFFOLK BLACK DOGS

  One of the earliest accounts we have of Black Shuck is from Suffolk and this time he was definitely not in a helpful mood!

  It was 4 August 1577, a Sunday, and the villagers of Blythburgh in Suffolk were all at their morning worship. Suddenly there was a huge crack of thunder and the doors of the church flew open. A huge black dog burst in and ran up the nave of the church, killing a man and a boy and causing the church steeple to collapse through the roof! Then it turned and ran out of the church again, leaving scorch marks on the door, which can still be seen!

  Later that same day, at nearby Bungay, something similar happened. There was a large congregation all at prayer when the dog burst in and ran down the church in a storm of fire. He killed several people as he passed and when he reached the choir he turned and slew many more before disappearing back the way he’d come.

  THE AYLESBURY BLACK DOG

  There was a man who lived in a village near Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire who made his living as a dairyman. He kept several cows which he’d milk morning and night, and he’d then sell the milk around the locality. To get to the field where he kept his cows he regularly took a shortcut across a neighbour’s field. One night, as he was approaching the gap in the hedge through which he always went, he saw a big black dog sitting there. He wasn’t at all scared of dogs, but this one was very large and very fierce-looking, and it glared at him with fiery, threatening eyes. It was so threatening that the dairyman was not sure whether it was a dog or a fiend, so he turned aside and went through the gate at the end of the field instead. From then on the dog was there every night, barring his way, and every night the dairyman turned aside and went through the gate instead of through the gap in the hedge which would have been much quicker.

  Then, one night, on his way back home after milking, he fell in with an old mate and they walked along together. As they did so the dairyman told his friend about the dog and, feeling brave because he was not alone this time, he vowed that he would see it off. As they crossed the field they saw the dog looking larger and more threatening than ever. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight and they could see spittle dripping from his lips.

  The dairyman did not want to back down in front of his friend so he put down the pails of milk which he was carrying on a yoke, and walked towards the dog waving the yoke and shouting, ‘Be off, you black fiend, or we’ll see what you are made of!’ The dog did not move and so the dairyman, trembling with fear, stepped towards it and swung the yoke … at nothing. There was no dog there. The dog had vanished and the dairyman fell down in a swoon. He was carried home alive but never regained his senses. The dog was never seen again.

  THE BLACK DOG OF LYME REGIS

  There once was a large mansion stood in its own grounds on the edge of Lyme Regis in Dorset. It was a rich, important building and because of that it was attacked and destroyed during the English Civil War. The strongest part of a house is often the wall containing the main chimney, and that was the situation here. After the war only the end of the house with the chimney and the hearth and just a few other bits of wall stood up out of the rubble. This was repaired and reroofed and it was used as a farmhouse.

  Several generations of farmers lived there with no trouble, but then a ghostly black dog began to appear, sitting by the hearth. It did no harm, it just sat there and the family became used to it. It was almost like a very easy-to-care-for family pet! But other local people were worried about this haunting and they taunted the farmer and bullied him until he agreed to do something to lay the ghost. The next night he came home drunk and, seeing the dog sitting there as usual, he grabbed the poker and lunged at the dog with it. The dog ran off and he chased it up the stairs and into the attic where it disappeared through the wall. As it disappeared the farmer swiped at it with the poker, missed, and made a hole in the ceiling. A cloud of dust and rubbish fell down and amidst it all was an old box. When the farmer opened it he found it was full of ancient gold coins dating back to pre-Civil War days.

  From that day on the dog was never again seen in the house, but it was regularly seen in the lane outside the farm at midnight. The lane became known as ‘Dog Lane’. Today, on the maps it is called Hayes Lane, but locals still call it Dog Lane and newcomers and holidaymakers are warned not to let their dogs stray at night for, if they do, they tend to disappear.

  The farmer used the gold coins to buy a nearby property, which he opened as a pub –
the Black Dog Inn near Uplyme. The Black Dog did good trade for many years but was demolished in 1916 because the building had become unsafe. A new property was built on the site and is currently trading as The Old Black Dog B&B, so although the dog itself disappeared, its memory lingers on.

  THE BLACK DOG OF THE WILD FOREST

  Once upon a time there was a king and a queen and they had one son who they called Jack, which wasn’t a very good name for a prince, it’s the kind of name usually given to a farm boy or a simpleton, but Jack he was, so Jack he will remain. When Jack was born it was foretold that when he came of age he would be eaten by the Black Dog of the Wild Forest. This did not worry anyone very much at the time because it seemed a long way in the future and you never know what is going to happen, but as his coming of age drew nearer and nearer, the king (and the queen as well, I expect) became sad and apprehensive, as they were very fond of their son.

  At last, when the fateful day was nearly upon them, Jack’s father, the king, gave the boy the best horse from out of his stable and as much money as he could carry, and sent him on his way. He doubted whether the boy could escape his fate, but he told him to try.