Read Online North Yorkshire Folk Tales by Ingrid Barton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ingrid Barton
Ads: Link
and flew close over his head. ‘Look!’ said the old man, pointing towards the hilltop behind the giant. He swung around and all of them could see a tall plume of black smoke mixed with roaring pillars of flame rising from the direction of the giant’s keep.
‘I did warn you!’ said the old man. He made a small gesture with his hands and the giant’s cudgel splintered and fell to the ground. The giant did not seem to notice, for his eyes were now fixed on something else, something that made them wide with horror. His mighty limbs began to tremble and his mouth fell open. He tried to speak, but could not utter a sound. To the astonishment of all the men of Wensleydale their enemy began to stumble backwards his hands raised as though to protect himself.
Silhouetted against the smoke and fire, two figures were approaching. One was a girl, pale and slender, the other a great boarhound. Their eyes glittered and though they seemed solid enough their feet did not touch the ground. The girl held the boarhound on a leash, but his jaws slavered and his limbs strained as he tried to get at his former master. Back and back the giant staggered until he stood at the very edge of the cliff. Then, nodding briefly to the old man, the shepherd’s daughter loosed the hound. With one spring, Wolfhead leapt at the giant’s throat. Dog and giant went backwards over the cliff together.
3
D RAGONS
O N D RAGONS
A fine clutch of eggs, probably laid by dragons from Scandinavian stories brought over by the Vikings, hatched out in North Yorkshire. The hatchlings settled across the county: Sockburn, Handale, Loschy Wood, Slingsby and Sexhow all have tales of dragons and their inevitable destruction by a variety of heroes. Unfortunately, the stories are so similar that one or two are quite enough.
All the dragons appear to have been of a similar type – the sort that coils around a hill, snakelike with poisonous breath, rather than the fire-drakes found further south. ( See Ragnar Lodbrok and the Founding of York for an early version.) Only one, the Sockburn dragon, could fly. One, the Loschy Hill dragon, whose story is given below, could heal itself by rolling on the ground (a feature borrowed from the Greek legend of Alcyoneus and Heracles). The Sexhow dragon had its skin nailed to the church door whence it was supposedly removed by that man-turned-myth, Oliver Cromwell.
Their diet varied. Some just ate local people, some liked the daily milk of nine cows; one, fussy but a little conventional, preferred virgins.
As for their killers, most go on to marry rich heiresses once they have removed the dragon; however, two heroes and their dogs are tragically killed by their dragon’s poisonous breath, though only after the dragon is safely dead.
One dragon appears to be connected with establishing land tenure. It involved such a weird ceremony that I cannot resist including it briefly here.
T HE S OCKBURN D RAGON
Northern Moors
The manor of Sockburn, which lies just over the River Tees, had a troublesome dragon. Sir John Conyers was the hero ready to fight it. The Bowes Manuscript in the British Museum states that:
The scent of the poyson was soe strong that noe person was able to abide it, yet hee by the providence of God overthrew it and lyes buried at Sockburn before the Conquest, but before hee did enterprise it (having but one child) he went to the churche in compleate armour and offerd up his sonne to the Holy Ghost, which monument is yet to see and the place where the serpent lay is called Gray Stone.
The manor was owned by the Bishop of Durham and each time a new bishop was appointed whichever descendent of Conyers was alive at the time had to meet him in the middle of the bridge over the Tees and offer him an ancient sword with the following words:
My Lord Bishop. I hereby present you with the falchion wherewith the champion Conyers slew the worm, dragon or fiery flying serpent which destroyed man, woman and child; in memory of
‘I did warn you!’ said the old man. He made a small gesture with his hands and the giant’s cudgel splintered and fell to the ground. The giant did not seem to notice, for his eyes were now fixed on something else, something that made them wide with horror. His mighty limbs began to tremble and his mouth fell open. He tried to speak, but could not utter a sound. To the astonishment of all the men of Wensleydale their enemy began to stumble backwards his hands raised as though to protect himself.
Silhouetted against the smoke and fire, two figures were approaching. One was a girl, pale and slender, the other a great boarhound. Their eyes glittered and though they seemed solid enough their feet did not touch the ground. The girl held the boarhound on a leash, but his jaws slavered and his limbs strained as he tried to get at his former master. Back and back the giant staggered until he stood at the very edge of the cliff. Then, nodding briefly to the old man, the shepherd’s daughter loosed the hound. With one spring, Wolfhead leapt at the giant’s throat. Dog and giant went backwards over the cliff together.
3
D RAGONS
O N D RAGONS
A fine clutch of eggs, probably laid by dragons from Scandinavian stories brought over by the Vikings, hatched out in North Yorkshire. The hatchlings settled across the county: Sockburn, Handale, Loschy Wood, Slingsby and Sexhow all have tales of dragons and their inevitable destruction by a variety of heroes. Unfortunately, the stories are so similar that one or two are quite enough.
All the dragons appear to have been of a similar type – the sort that coils around a hill, snakelike with poisonous breath, rather than the fire-drakes found further south. ( See Ragnar Lodbrok and the Founding of York for an early version.) Only one, the Sockburn dragon, could fly. One, the Loschy Hill dragon, whose story is given below, could heal itself by rolling on the ground (a feature borrowed from the Greek legend of Alcyoneus and Heracles). The Sexhow dragon had its skin nailed to the church door whence it was supposedly removed by that man-turned-myth, Oliver Cromwell.
Their diet varied. Some just ate local people, some liked the daily milk of nine cows; one, fussy but a little conventional, preferred virgins.
As for their killers, most go on to marry rich heiresses once they have removed the dragon; however, two heroes and their dogs are tragically killed by their dragon’s poisonous breath, though only after the dragon is safely dead.
One dragon appears to be connected with establishing land tenure. It involved such a weird ceremony that I cannot resist including it briefly here.
T HE S OCKBURN D RAGON
Northern Moors
The manor of Sockburn, which lies just over the River Tees, had a troublesome dragon. Sir John Conyers was the hero ready to fight it. The Bowes Manuscript in the British Museum states that:
The scent of the poyson was soe strong that noe person was able to abide it, yet hee by the providence of God overthrew it and lyes buried at Sockburn before the Conquest, but before hee did enterprise it (having but one child) he went to the churche in compleate armour and offerd up his sonne to the Holy Ghost, which monument is yet to see and the place where the serpent lay is called Gray Stone.
The manor was owned by the Bishop of Durham and each time a new bishop was appointed whichever descendent of Conyers was alive at the time had to meet him in the middle of the bridge over the Tees and offer him an ancient sword with the following words:
My Lord Bishop. I hereby present you with the falchion wherewith the champion Conyers slew the worm, dragon or fiery flying serpent which destroyed man, woman and child; in memory of
Similar Books
![Love Found [Pack Law 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)](https://fs.dianahicksbooks.com/627848/thumbs/152x264/love-found-pack-law-6-siren-publishing-menage-everlasting.png)
