Dragonslayers

by Joseph McCullough

  Arthur’s role in this story is very similar to that of Constantine in the story of St. Sylvester. Again, we have a powerful secular ruler whose lands are under threat by a dragon, but who proves powerless to stop it. St. Carantoc then comes along to demonstrate the supremacy of the power of the Church. Also like the story of St. Sylvester and that of St. George, the defeated dragon is bound with something frail and taken captive. In the story of St. George the dragon is killed, while in the story of St. Sylvester the dragon’s fate isn’t stated. In the story of Carantoc, however, the saint stops anyone from killing the dragon, perhaps arguing that only God should be the arbiter of life and death, even in the case of dragons.

  MEDIEVAL DRAGONSLAYERS

  As Europe passed from the Dark Ages into the Medieval period, it witnessed the development of a new type of dragonslayer story, built upon, but distinct from, the earlier traditions. During this time, dragons lost most of their mythic power, and people came to view them less and less as embodiments of satanic evil, or avatars of chaos. Instead, dragons became just monsters. Ferocious monsters that possessed deadly fangs, impenetrable armour, and even poisonous or fiery breath, it is true, but still just mortal creatures. No longer did it require the power of God, or even a hero of epic proportions, to slay a dragon. During this time, brave knights and even wily peasants could potentially best a dragon.

  These new dragonslayers were folk heroes, and, like most folktales, their stories grew out of the attempt by a local population to explain the world around them. In some cases, dragon stories explained geographic features, such as the knuckerholes in Sussex. These watery caves or sinkholes were said to have once contained knuckers (a term for water-dragons, derived from the Old English). Dragonslayer stories also became popular explanations for the use of a dragon, or more commonly a wyvern (a two-legged dragon), in the heraldry of many families. These stories had the bonus for the families in question of giving them a heroic, dragonslaying ancestor. In a similar vein, many of the stories probably developed to explain misunderstood dragon iconography left over from previous ages. In earlier times dragons were often used as visual symbols of evil; however, later generations often didn’t remember or understand what these depictions meant, and so they invented local stories to explain them.

  Woodcut of a Viking knight slaying a dragon. Photograph by Wolfgang Sauber.

  Like all attempts to classify a diverse body of narrative traditions, there are numerous exceptions to the explanations above. Also, it would be incorrect to view the medieval dragonslayer tradition in isolation. In many places, the tradition of the Holy Dragonslayers continued to develop and expand at the same time. Also, it is during this time that most of the older Norse traditions were first written down. What is clear, however, is that the medieval period was the last great age in which most of the population actually believed in dragons and in the heroic stories of their slayers. In the later Middle Ages, the legends of the dragonslayers gave way to fictional romances and fairy tales. Contained below are four of the most famous examples of medieval dragonslayer stories, each of which likely developed for a different reason.

  John Lambton and the Lambton Worm

  Back in the quiet years before the war between king and parliament, the young John Lambton lived a life of privileged idleness. Heir to the vast Lambton estates, John was a headstrong boy, reckless and rebellious, who cared little for the authority of his parents or of the Church. One Sunday, while good men honoured the day of the Lord, John went fishing in the River Wear. He wasted the day, lying on the bank, catching nothing but the occasional nap. Then, as the sun began its decline, he got a nibble on his line. Grabbing his pole, he pulled in his catch and discovered a hideous worm dangling from the hook. The creature was three feet long and had a row of holes running back from its head on either side of his body. At first John thought to take the creature home with him, but on his walk back to the manor house, he changed his mind and tossed the creature in a well.

  The years passed, and John matured. He left the idle youth behind and became an honest, hard-working man. However, he lamented the wasted years when he’d caused so much mischief, and vowed that he would make amends. Against the wishes of his father, John took up the sword and left England to fight for the Lord God in distant lands. Eventually, he joined with the Knights of Rhodes and fought with them in many battles. In later years, he would speak very little of this time, saying only that he had done his duty.

  Meanwhile, back at the Lambton estates, a great horror had struck the land. The worm, which John had carelessly thrown in a well so many years before, had grown to monstrous proportions. The creature could swallow a sheep whole, and would tear the throats from horses and cattle. Worse still, it crawled through the land, tainting everything with its poisoned breath, so that crops failed to grow and game animals fled to other regions. Many men went to fight the hideous beast, but their swords and spears could not penetrate the dragon’s scales. A few were lucky to escape with their lives; most were crushed to death in the dragon’s coils.

  So the Lambton lands emptied, until only the family and a few loyal retainers remained. John’s father, that once proud man, aged two years for every one, doubly plagued by the dragon and the conviction that his son had died in some distant battle. He withdrew into his crumbling manor house, spending his days in brooding isolation.

  BRITISH DRAGONSLAYERS

  Despite its small size, Britain contains a huge number and variety of dragon and dragonslayer stories. Contained below are a few of the most famous and interesting.

  Piers Shonks

  The wily Piers Shonks not only slew a dragon, but he outwitted the devil as well. During his time as the Lord of Pelham, a dragon took up residence in the tangled roots of an ancient Yew tree near the village of Brent Pelham. Determined to rid his land of this menace, Piers had a special suit of spiked armour forged. Then, accompanied by his three best hounds, he set off with sword and lance to face the dragon. The fight proved swift and bloody; while the hounds snapped at the dragon’s legs, Piers drove his lance down the monster’s throat, killing it. However, as soon as it died, the devil appeared. The dragon had been one of his favourites. He cursed Piers and declared that he would claim his soul after his death, whether he was buried in the church or outside of it.

  Years later, as Piers lay on his deathbed, he sent for a servant and explained his last wishes. When Piers died, they buried his body in the walls of the church at Brent Pelham. Since his body lay neither inside the church nor outside of it, the devil was cheated of his prize.

  Sir Guy of Warwick

  A legendary English knight, popular in the medieval Romances of the thirteenth century, and still popular in books of the seventeenth century, Sir Guy is credited with the slaying of multiple dragons. His most famous dragon story took place in Longwitton, near three holy wells. During his first fight with the dragon, Sir Guy inflicted many wounds, but watched in amazement as they healed almost instantly. Sir Guy was badly beaten in the fight and barely escaped with his life. After healing up, he returned to fight the dragon a second time. Again he struck several blows that healed instantly, but this time he noticed that the dragon always kept its tail down one of the wells. Although Sir Guy was forced to retreat again, he would return a third time, with a new plan. Faking a retreat during the third fight, Sir Guy managed to get between the dragon and the wells. Thereafter, as Sir Guy struck blows, the wounds did not heal, and eventually he killed the dragon.

  Fulk Fitzwarren

  There is an Iron Age fort near the village of Norton Fitzwarren in Somerset. According to local legend, the Romans had slaughtered native Britons on the site, and somehow the death and rotting corpses eventually created a dragon through spontaneous generation. This dragon attacked the local populace from its perch on the hilltop fort, until a wandering knight named Fulk Fitzwarren dispatched it in a fight.

  John Conyers

  During the reign of Richard I, John Conyers of Sockburn donned spiked armou
r and slew a dragon that was terrorizing the area. As a reward, the king awarded him the Manor of Sockburn. For hundreds of years afterwards, it was traditional for the current Lord of Sockburn Manor to go and greet any new Bishop of Durham. At this meeting, the lord would present the bishop with the ‘Conyers Falchion’, the sword that had been used to slay the dragon. The bishop would take the sword and immediately return it, wishing health upon the lord. Although this tradition has lapsed in modern times, the falchion itself can still be viewed in the treasury of Durham Cathedral.

  Teárlach Sgiobair

  A variation of the spiked armour idea was used by Teárlach Sgiobair (Charles the Skipper) in his battle with the dragon of Beinn a’ Bheithir in the Highlands. This dragon had taken up residence in a cave on a cliff side that overlooked a road by the ocean. From this high perch, it would leap down to attack unwary travellers. For years, no one dared face the monster until Teárlach Sgiobair came along. An experienced seaman, Teárlach guided his boat until it sat just off the Argyll shore, below the lair of the dragon. He then constructed a pontoon bridge built of barrels connecting the boat to the land. Each of the barrels he covered in sharpened spikes. Teárlach then made a fire on his boat and began to roast meat. When the dragon smelled the cooked meat, it leapt down from its cave and charged across the spiked bridge, cutting itself to ribbons. It died before it ever reached the boat. As it turns out, this dragon had left behind some hatchlings when it was killed. Luckily a farmer found the hatchlings hiding in a haystack and burned it and them.

  Seigneur de Hambye

  While Seigneur de Hambye is not technically a ‘British Dragonslayer’, the story itself comes from the Channel Island of Jersey. In this tale, Seigneur de Hambye from Normandy travelled to Jersey to free the population from the terror of a dragon. After a long and brutal fight, the knight defeated the monster by cutting off its head. Wounded and exhausted, Seigneur de Hambye sat down to rest and was murdered by his ambitious squire. The squire then cut out the dragon’s tongue, which he took back to Normandy. Claiming he had killed the dragon, the squire married his master’s widow and took control of his estates. However, the squire talked in his sleep, and, one night, his new wife heard his confession and had him arrested. The squire eventually admitted his guilt, while awake, and was executed.

  Seven years to the day that John Lambton had left England, he returned to her shores. Battle-scarred and weary, he longed to see his home and to once again sit by the fire with his father to talk away the cold and rainy nights. But as John rode towards his family home, his heart sank. The once green fields were barren and dead, and the trees had withered. No birds flew in the sky; no hares scampered from the hedges. When he reached the house of his youth, he frowned at the decaying walls and empty, lifeless windows. Inside, he found his father, sitting alone in his study, staring blankly at an empty fireplace. The old man looked up, and John’s heart nearly broke to see his father’s tearful smile.

  For the next few days, John worked tirelessly to organize what remained of the household. At the same time, he learned all he could of the dragon that so plagued his father’s lands. His many years as a soldier had taught him well; he knew the foolishness of charging headfirst into battle against an unknown enemy. When he had learned all he could from the household, he rode out alone one night, to seek the old witch-woman who used to live in the marshes on the edge of the Lambton lands.

  He found the hag in her old straw hut, casting unwholesome items into an old iron caldron. She smiled a broken-toothed smile as John Lambton approached, and began to speak before he even asked a question.

  ‘So you’ve finally come about your worm,’ spoke the hag. ‘Yes, it is your worm. The creature you carelessly tossed in a well so many years ago. It grew! It grew! Now you want to know how to kill it? Well I will tell you. No hand of man is strong enough to pierce those scales with sword or spear. You must build a new suit of armour, one covered in blades. Then stand in the river and let the dragon come to you. It will cut itself on the blades, and then you may strike. You must throw its pieces into the river, lest they grow together again. A price? Of course there is a price. After you have killed the worm, you must kill the next living creature you encounter. That is the price. If you do not pay this price, no Lambton will die peacefully in bed for nine generations.’

  The coat of arms of the German town of Heide. It is just one example of the numerous cities and towns in Europe that feature dragons and/or dragonslayers in their official coat of arms.

  So John returned home with the witch-woman’s words lingering in his ears. The next morning he pulled out the armour he’d worn on campaign. Then he gathered all of the old knives and spears from the house’s armoury. With patience and care, he welded the blades and spearheads onto his armour so that the metal spikes pointed in every direction. When he had finished, he told his father what he intended to do. His father pleaded with him not to face the dragon, but John would not be dissuaded. He told his father that once he had killed the worm, he would blow on his horn. Then his father must release his old hound. It was the old hound who must pay the witch-woman’s price.

  On a dreary autumn morning, John set out towards the River Wear. By the river, he found a ford where the worm liked to cross the fast-flowing waters. John donned his suit of spiked armour and stood on a rock in the middle of the Wear. Then he waited. In those hours, he remained sharp-eyed and alert, in sharp contrast to the lazy day so many years before when he had caught the worm. Eventually, he heard the creature approach, crawling through the dead shrubs by the riverside, and John recognized it by the line of holes running along its sides. It gave a poisonous hiss, then plunged into the water.

  John watched its shadowy form approach from under the water, then flinched back as it burst forth and coiled itself around him. The coils constricted, forcing the air from John’s lungs. However, the strength of the dragon’s coils was also its undoing. The beast wound itself so tight that the blades on the armour cut through its scales, opening up numerous wounds. Fighting for air, John took his sword and hacked at those wounds, severing numerous chunks from the worm. These chunks fell into the river and were washed away by the current.

  Drenched in the dragon’s blood, and still struggling to breathe, John drove his sword through a gaping wound, up into the dragon’s brain. Suddenly the coils loosened, and what remained of the worm fell away, sliding into the water to be borne away by the river. John struggled to shore, took his horn in his bloody hand, and blew a victorious blast.

  The Lambton Worm. By the medieval period, most European dragons were depicted as having four limbs; however, in most English folktales, dragons continued to appear as giant serpents.

  Back at the manor house, John’s father heard the horn. He released the hound, but was so overcome by relief at his son’s victory that he too ran to greet his son. John waited by the riverside, slowly removing his bloody, spiked armour. He glanced up and saw, appearing on the brow of a low hill, not the hound he had expected, but his father. His hand trembled. A moment later, the hound came running up, and, with a heavy heart, John took his sword and pierced the faithful dog through the heart, killing it swiftly and without suffering. Silently he prayed that the price was paid, but knew in his heart that it was not.

  Father and son had a tearful reunion on the riverbank, and John decided that he would never tell his father that he had seen him first. The old man would die a few years later, happily unaware of the curse that now lay upon his family.

  After the legend of St. George, the Lambton Worm is probably Britain’s best-known dragonslayer legend. It is impossible to say exactly when the story developed; for many centuries it was preserved as an oral folktale and a popular folk song, and many versions of both can still be found.

  As a dragonslaying story, it contains a mix of common and unique elements. For reasons that are not clear, the idea of using spiked armour to defeat a dragon is a motif that occurs frequently in British folktales. Also, the idea that a dr
agon can reattach its severed parts occurs in several British stories. On the other hand, two elements of the story are nearly unique. The first is the idea that the hero, the dragonslayer himself, is the cause of the dragon plague in the first place. Perhaps this is related to the Christian idea of penance; the sinner must do his best to undo the sin. The other oddity is the attachment to the story of the curse. In all likelihood, this part of the story was added at a much later date. According to the legend, the curse would affect the Lambton family for nine generations. It is true that two Lambtons were killed in the English Civil War, and their immediate predecessor drowned. One hundred and twenty years later, another died in a carriage accident. Probably, the curse was added to the story in order to explain these deaths.

  Dieudonné de Gozon, Draconis Extinctor

  It was in the middle years of the fourteenth century, while Grand Master Hélion de Villeneuve led the Knights of St. John, that a dragon came to the island of Rhodes. Perhaps it flew in from some distant land, or maybe it swam across the sea from Africa. Either way, it made its home in a cave about two miles from the city of Rhodes, at a place now called Malpasso. From its lair, the dragon would venture out to feast upon sheep and the occasional passing traveller and pilgrim.

  Dieudonné de Gozon slaying the dragon of Rhodes.

  When word of the attacks reached the Knights, many volunteered to ride out and face the dragon alone, as chivalry demanded, and the Grand Master selected his strongest and bravest knight. This knight set out the next day to face the dragon, but he never returned. When several days had passed without word, a second knight was selected. He too rode out with a sharp sword and gleaming armour, never to return. Grieved by the loss of two of his bravest knights, Grand Master de Villeneuve forbade anyone else from facing the dragon. Shepherds must move their sheep, and travellers would have to take a different road. The Knights of St. John could not defeat the beast.