Elder's Black - A Proverb from Somerset

"When elder's black brew and bake a sack."  -  Somerset

Ray 1768

[Elderberries turn black about September near us.  Whether you are supposed to bake and brew with the elder, or whether it is a sign that this is the best time for baking and brewing I am not sure. Black Elder berries certainly make an amazing red wine, and I can imagine you might use them in currenty bread, although they would be quite gritty!]

The Parson and Clerk rocks of Dawlish

"On the south-east coast of Devon, about twelve miles from Exeter, lies the picturesque town of Dawlish. It possesses a long stretch of sandy beach, which encloses a small bay of the English Channel. At the southern extremity may be seen two rocks, lying a short distance from the mainland, known as the Parson and Clerk. The story of these rocks, as told by the gossips of Dawlish is as follows :
 

A certain bishop of Exeter fell sick, and thinking that the pure air of this charming village would restore his lost energy took up for a time his residence there.

An ambitious priest, whose aim was to succeed to the See in the event of his superior's demise, frequently rode to Dawlish accompanied by his clerk to make enquiries after the condition of the dying bishop. The clerk was usually the priest's guide; but one night, in a tremendous storm, while crossing Haldon they lost their way, and worn out with the long journey found themselves miles out of the beaten track, The priest boiled over with rage. He abused the clerk, and exclaimed " I would rather have the Devil himself, than you, for a guide." At this moment a horseman rode by and volunteered to pioneer them to Dawlish. They thanked him and jogged comfortably along at his side, unmindful of time, distance, or invalid. The storm still raged and the long ride had sharpened their appetites, therefore, as they approached a brilliantly-lighted mansion, they gladly accepted the stranger's invitation to partake of his hospitality. They enjoyed a sumptuous repast, and indulged freely in the good wine provided so lavishly by their host.

In the midst of their merriment news was brought that the bishop was dead. The priest was eager to be off to secure the first chance of promotion, now that the bishop was out of the way. So master and man mounted their steeds and made ready to depart. But the horses were not anxious to go. They were whipped and spurred but all in vain. "Devil take the brutes," exclaimed the priest in his rage. "Thank you, sir," said their host, "Gee up." The horses did "gee up ! "with a vengeance, and galloped madly for the cliffs : then over they went, that of the clerk first, then followed the parson and his steed plump on their backs and there they are to this day looking see-ward (sea), monuments of disappointed ambition."

Hewett 1900

 

Devon / Westcountry weather lore #11 - March (part 2)

Wild Daffodils at Steps Bridge in Devon - by Derek Harper [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

"A damp warm March will bring much harm to the farm.

Snow in March is bad for fruit and grape wine.

If it does not freeze on the loth of March, a fertile year may be expected.

When flies swarm in March, sheep come by their death.

March dust and March wind, bleach as well as Summer's sun.

March flowers make no Summer bowers.

March borrows three days of April,
The first brings sleet,
The second brings snow, and
The third is the worst day that ever blew.

In a very old magazine I found the following, which leads one to suppose that the cuckoo arrives in March :

In March the giikii begin'th to sarch.
In Aperal he begin'th to tell,
In May he begin'th to lay

In July away he do fly."

Hewett 1900

 

[Again I am unsure that Hewett collected all her rhymes in Devon - I don't know whether her "Very old magazine" would have specified a Devon origin. This rhyme sounds like quite a widespread one now - my dad, who grew up in Northamptonshire, learned "The cuckoo comes in April / and sings its song in May / June it builds its little nest / July it flies away / August / Go it must"]

Mothering Sunday in Devon (part 1)

Seakale - David Baird [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

 "In many parts of Devonshire and other western counties, the fourth Sunday in Lent is observed as a holiday, under the title of Mothering Sunday. Servants, apprentices, and young working-folks in general visit their parents, and between them make up very happy home parties. The previous Saturday is a busy day, for the mother is looking forward with great pleasure to the morrow's meetings and festivities. She busies herself in preparing the materials for a good dinner for the joyous youngsters, and gives them the very best she can afford. Of course the mothering-cake is her chief care. It is big and rich, and must be well baked, sugared, and ornamented with fanciful designs. The dinner on Sunday consists of a hind quarter of lamb with mint sauce, a well-boiled suet pudding, seakale, and cauliflower, wheat furmity, with home-made wines. The day is one of mirthful enjoyment, mutual congratulations, and benevolence. The remains of the feast are usually distributed amongst needy neighbours who are unable to purchase these delicacies for themselves..." [cont.]

Hewett 1900

Devon cure for zweamy-headedness

Old Rum

"Wash the head with plenty of old rum. The back and face with sour wine ; wear flannel next the skin, and carry a packet of salt in the left-hand pocket."

Hewett 1900

Dream Oneiromancy in Devon

Dreaming of Beer... - If you wish to use  my photos please attribute this blog.

"Oneiromancy is the art of interpreting dreams. This kind of divination is still in use among the masses, and has been practised from the most remote ages. In rural districts there are to be found ancient dames whose interpretations of dreams are looked upon with reverence, and are a source of revenue to the old women.

At breakfast, it is not uncommon for members of of a family to narrate their dreams, and seek the elucidation thereof.

"A dream is an ill-arranged action of the thinking faculties during a state of partial sleep, and is but a momentary impression, perfectly natural in its operation; the state of mind which causes it being produced by temporary functional derangement."

If I dream of water pure,
Before the coming morn,
"Tis a sign I shall be poor,
And unto wealth not born.
If I dream of tasting beer,
Middling then will be my cheer
Chequered with the good and bad,
Sometimes joyful, sometimes sad ;
But should I dream of drinking wine,
Wealth and pleasure will be mine.
The stronger the drink, the better the cheer,
Dreams of my destiny appear.

The belief that dreams are indicative or symbolical of coming events is very common among the masses. Some persons look upon dreams as absolutely true mediums of revealing the secrets of futurity."

Hewett 1900

[In her frustrating style I am once again left not knowing what parts of Hewett's work reffer to Devon and what is to do with wider beleifs she picked up else where through books. However in this case I have included it all. Barring the rhyme (which may or may not have been used in Devon) the rest is generic enough to believe it covered Devon beliefs quite well.]

The death tokens of the Vingoe

Modern wine barrels - By Thomas Oldcastle (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-2.5 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons

"When you cross the brook which divides St. Leaven from Sennen, you are on the Treville estates.

Tradition says that William the Norman gave this estate to his wine-taster, a relative of the ancient Counts of Treville, who named his estate after himself. The race is, we believe, now extinct. A peculiar appearance always foreboded the death of a Vingoe. Above the deep caverns in the Treville cliff rises a cairn, from which, whenever a member of the family was about to die, chains of fire were seen ascending and descending, accompanied by loud and terrible noises. These tokens, it is said, have not been heard since the last male heir died a violent death."

Valentine (undated)

Map - Treville Estate

The Fire in the Abbey

The main structure of Glastonbury Abbey, 1900 - By Photoglob AG, Zürich, Switzerland or Detroit Publishing Company, Detroit, Michigan [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

"The kitchen of the abbey, some fragments of the church, and the chapel of St. Joseph alone remain now; and of the origin of the kitchen the following anecdote is told. The abbot had offended Henry VIII., and the king sharply reproved him for his sensual indulgences in food and wine, which he asserted disgraced the abbey, and added that he would burn the monk's kitchen. The abbot replied haughtily that he would build such a kitchen that all the wood in the king's forests would not suffice to burn it; and he forthwith built the one whose ruin we see. Thus runs the story, but the architecture of the kitchen is of an earlier date, and the speech would scarcely have been made to the despotic Tudor."

Valentine  (undated)

Map - Glastonbury Abbey

The Kitchen of the Abbey - By NotFromUtrecht (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

Corfe Castle - part 2

"Edward was hunting in the forest of Wareham one day, when the clever, cankered dwarf of the queen, Wulstan, came up to him, and by some story of strange bird or beast, lured the boy-king to follow him into the wood, and leave his attendants. Then, finding that Corfe Castle, where his brother dwelt, was close at hand, Edward thought he should like to see little Ethelred - then ten or eleven year' old - and rode thus unattended to the door of his stepmother's home. She received him at the doorway, kissed him, and asked him to alight. He declined, but asked to see his brother. Elfrida then called for wine, and whilst the king held the cup to his lips, either the queen or one of her attendants stabbed him in the back. The wounded prince had, however, strength enough to set spurs to his horse, and attempt to rejoin his suite; but fainting from loss of blood, he fell; his foot got entangled in the stirrup, and he was dragged a considerable distance, till the horse stopped of itself Elfrida, alarmed at his apparent escape, sent servants after him, who found the poor young prince dead, and his face much cut by the flints of the road over which he had been dragged. The queen ordered his body to be lodged in a house near; on that spot a church was afterwards built. The next morning she had it conveyed to a marshy place, and retired herself to a mansion of hers called Bere, ten miles off. Little Ethelred had seen the murder, and was overpowered by his mother's wickedness; he reproached her so bitterly, in his childish grief and horror, that she beat him most severely with the great wax tapers, the only weapons she had near her hand. Ethelred was so much hurt that he hated the sight of them ever afterwards. Edward's body was found, and the murder discovered; but Ethelred, who of course was quite innocent of his beloved brother's death, succeeded to the throne. Dunstan was compelled to crown him ; but as he placed the royal diadem on the boy's head, he accompanied the act with an awful prophecy. It ran thus: "Even as, by the death of thy brother, thou didst aspire to the kingdom, hear the decree of Heaven. The sin of thy wicked mother and of her accomplices shall rest upon thy head, and such evils shall fall upon the English as they have never yet suffered, from the days when they first came into the isle of Britain even until the present time."..." [cont.]

Valentine (undated)

The Death of King Rufus - part 4

"...The sun sank; twilight fell on the forest, and still the Red King lay bleeding beneath the oak. A charcoal burner returning from his day's work found the body at last, and putting it into his cart took it to Winchester, where the slain monarch was finally buried.

Kingsley, in his quaint imitation of a ballad of the period, gives a somewhat different version of the story:-

THE RED KING. The king was drinking in Malwood Hall,
There came in a monk before them all;
He thrust by squire, he thrust by knight,
Stood over against the dais aright;
And "The word of the Lord, thou cruel Red King,
The word of the Lord to thee I bring.
A grimly sweven I dreamt yestreen;
I saw thee lie under the hollins green
And through thy heart an arrow been
And out of thy body a smoke did rise,
Which smirched the sunshine out of the skies.
So if thou God's anointed be,
I rede thee unto thy soul thou see:
For mitre and pall thou hast y'sold,
False knight to Christ, for gain and gold;
And for this thy forest were digged down, all
Steading and hamlet and churches tall;
And Christe's poor were ousten forth,
To beg their bread from south to north;
So tarry at home and fast and pray,
Lest fiends hunt thee in the judgment day."
The monk he vanished where he stood;
King William sterte up wroth and wod;
Quod he: "Fools' wits will jump together,
The Hampshire ale and the thunder weather
Have turned the brains of us both, I think;
And monks are curst when they fall to drink.
A lothly sweven I dreamt last night,
How there hoved anigh me a griesly knight,
Did smite me down to the pit of hell,
I shrieked and woke, so fast I fell.
There's Tyrrel as sour as I, perdie,
So he of you all shall hunt with me,
A grimly brace for a hart to see:" The Red King down from Malwood came,
His heart with wine was all aflame,
His eyne were shotten, red as blood,
He rated and swore wherever he rode. They roused a hart, that grimly brace,
A hart of ten, a hart of grease,
Fled over against the kinge's place.
The sun it blinded the kinge's ee,
A fathom beyond his hocks shot he;
"Shoot thou," quod he, "in the fiende's name!
To lose such a quarry were seven years shame!"
And he hove up his arm to mark the game
Tyrrel he shot full light, God wot;
For whether the saints they swerved the shot,
Or whether by treason men knowen not,
But under the arm, in a secret part,
The iron fled through the kinge's heart. Tyrrel he smiled full grim that day,
Quod "Shooting of kings is no bairn's play;"
And he smote in the spurs and fled fast away."

 Valentine (undated)
Map - Malwood Castle
Map - Winchester

The Mermaids Vengence - part 9

"...One midnight, Walter, who had been dancing and drinking for some hours, left the cottage wearied with his excesses, and although not drunk, he was much excited with- wine. His pathway lay along the edge of the cliffs, amidst bushes of furze and heath, and through several irregular, zigzag ways. There were lateral paths striking off from one side of the main path, and leading down to the sea-shore. Although it was moonlight, without being actually aware of the error, Walter wandered into one of those; and before he was awake to his mistake, he found himself on the sands. He cursed his stupidity, and, uttering a blasphemous oath, he turned to retrace his steps.

The most exquisite music which ever flowed from human ups fell on his ear; he paused to listen, and collecting his unbalanced thoughts, he discovered that it was the voice of a woman singing a melancholy dirge..." [cont.]

Hunt 1903

Piskies in the cellar - part 2

'Our story has especially to do with the adventures of one of the party, John Sturtridge, who, well primed with ale, started on his homeward way for Luxulyan Church-town. John had got as far as Tregarden Down without any mishap worth recording, when, alas! he happed upon a party of the little people, who were at their sports in the shelter of a huge granite boulder. Assailed by shouts of derisive laughter, he hastened on frightened and bewildered, but the Down, well known from early experience, became like ground untrodden, and after long trial no gate or stile was to be found. He was getting vexed, as well as puzzled, when a chorus of tiny voices shouted, "Ho! and away for Par Beach!" John repeated the shout, and was in an instant caught up, and in a twinkling found himself on the sands of Par. A brief dance, and the cry was given, "Ho! and away for Squire Tremain's cellar!" A repetition of the Piskie cry found John with his elfish companions in the cellars at Heligan, where was beer and wine galore. It need not be said that he availed himself of his opportunities. The mixture of all the good liquors so affected him that, alas! he forgot in time to catch up the next cry of "Ho ! and away for Par Beach!" In the morning John was found by the butler, groping and tumbling among butts and barrels, very much muddled with the squire's good drink. His strange story, very incoherently told, was not credited by the squire, who committed him to jail for the burglary, and in due time he was convicted and sentenced to death.

The morning of his execution arrived; a large crowd had assembled, and John was standing under the gallows-tree, when a commotion was- observed in the crowd, and a little lady of commanding mien made her way through the opening throng to the scaffold. In a shrill, sweet voice, which John recognised, she cried, "Ho! and away for France!" Which being replied to, he was rapt from the officers of justice, leaving them and the multitude mute with wonder and disappointment.'

Hunt 1903

Nursing a Fairie - part 2

[cont.] '...When out on the road, the bandage was removed from her eyes, and she found she had a small baby in- her arms, not remarkably good-looking, with very sharp, piercing eyes, and but ordinarily dressed. However, a bargain is a bargain; so she resolved to make the best of it, and she presented the babe to her husband, telling him so much of the story as she thought it prudent to trust him with. For years the child was with this couple. They never wanted for anything; meat, and even wines, were provided,--as most people thought,--by wishing for them; clothes, ready-made, were on the child's bed when required; and the charmed water was always in the magic ewer. The little boy grew active and strong. He was remarkably wild, yet very tractable, and he appeared to have a real regard for his "big mammy," as he called the woman. Sometimes - she thought the child was mad. He would run, and leap, and scream, as though he were playing with scores of boys, when no soul was near him. The woman had never seen the father since the child had been with them; but ever and anon, money was conveyed to them in some mysterious manner. One morning, when washing the boy, this good woman, who had often observed how bright the water made the face of the child, was tempted to try if it would improve her own beauty. So directing the boy's attention to some birds singing on a tree outside the window, she splashed some of the water up into her face. Most of it went into her eye. She closed it instinctively, and upon opening it, she saw a number of little people gathered round her and playing with the boy. She said not a word, though her fear was great; and she continued to see the world of small - people surrounding the world of ordinary men and women, being with them, but not of them. She now knew who the boy's playmates were, and she often wished to speak to the beautiful creatures of the invisible world who were his real companions; but she was discreet, and kept silence...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903