Folklore of Lincolnshire (15 page)

William’s reputation was somewhat tarnished due to these attempts to kill his family and rumours spread that he was in league with the Devil. Even his colossal strength was attributed to selling his soul to Satan. Like Tom Hickathrift, there is the same story which illustrates his strength, whereby he was able to rope an amazing amount of hay to his back and carry it home for his mattress.

Codd relates how, when the locals wanted to build a causeway through the marshes, from Hatfield Moors to Wroot, William boasted he would complete the road single-handedly and at record speed, on the condition that no one could watch him work. William was allowed to begin the task and a local horseman rode before him to show him the required route. This horseman knew the conditions William had set but could not resist a glance behind him to see what the giant was doing. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he saw William speeding along behind him, surrounded by a haze of flying gravel, stones and pebbles as he made the track. Yet the most shocking sight was that of hundreds and hundreds of tiny demons in little red coats, intermingled in the haze, helping the giant as he worked.

Terrified, the horseman allegedly whispered a prayer to God and urged his horse to go faster to escape the horrors behind him. William knew, however, that the horseman had gone against his word and ceased his work immediately. All the imps disappeared and the causeway was never finished.

Stories of the giant’s death were also allegedly linked to the Devil. Having sold his soul to him, Satan obviously knew when William’s time was up and consequently, the giant prepared his grave very carefully. He dug his own hole then propped a huge flagstone next to it. When the Devil came for him William lay himself down in his hole and batted away the pole holding up the flagstone. The stone crashed down, entombing the giant and he was never seen again – although his tales lived on long after.

Codd writes that in the 1930s, folklorist Ethel Rudkin was told of a hermitage that existed in the 1700s, which was believed to have been where William lived. Apparently a large flagstone was discovered at this site and when excavated some human bones of a very large skeleton were found. Rudkin’s source suggested that those bones were now kept in an old box in the granary at Lindholme Hall, Hatfield but when enquiring I was told that this was no longer the case. Unfortunately, the flagstone, which originally had some kind of inscription engraved upon it, was broken up and so Rudkin never discovered what it had said.

Adrian Gray relates the tale of another giant who lived in Lincolnshire a long time ago.
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This giant was so tall that he literally had his head in the clouds! He was, however, as is often the case with these legendary giants, rather stupid and clumsy. Fortunately, his best friend, a very small dwarf, was extremely clever and also very good. The two of them would always travel round together, the dwarf living in his
friend’s pocket and helping him out with the difficulties in life. On this particular occasion, the two of them had been for a very long walk in the countryside and the fresh air had given them both a huge appetite. As they walked the dwarf suddenly pointed out a succulent looking flock of sheep grazing on a nearby field. Being rather a moralistic dwarf, however, he expressed his unease at killing and eating someone else’s sheep without asking permission, but as they were both so hungry he decided they would eat first then find the owner later and repay him by doing some work. The giant was so strong, after all, that he could do the work of twenty men in half the time, with the direction of his friend, the dwarf.

The dwarf gave a loud whistle, calling his other dwarf friends from round about to come and join the feast. Together they caught a small lamb and sat down to eat, while the giant helped himself to two large rams, as his appetite matched his stature! They all enjoyed a delicious dinner but just as they were finishing off the last scraps of meat, they spotted a wizard walking along the lane towards them. This wizard was the owner of the sheep they had just killed and eaten, and as fortune would have it he was rather a mean and malicious man, who would not be pleased with what he found. The dwarfs all scattered, hiding in the hillside, and our clever dwarf dived back inside the giant’s pocket. The giant, however, was too big and too stupid to hide and so was still left sitting in the field surrounded by the bones of the meal they had just finished when the wizard arrived. Spying the carcasses laid all around, the wizard flew into a terrible rage: ‘Who dares to kill my precious ram with the golden horns?’ he bellowed.

The giant was at a loss as what to say, but the clever dwarf piped up from his hiding place in the pocket, making himself sound like the giant. Now the dwarf, being very good and noble, hated lying, but he was not the one who had killed the ram with the golden horns, so in fact he was telling the truth when he said, ‘Not me,’ even though the wizard thought it was the giant who was answering.

‘Well, who has slaughtered my prize ram with the silver horns?’ he demanded.

‘Not me,’ the dwarf replied again, truthfully.

‘And who has killed my poor little curly lamb?’ the wizard cried, glaring at the giant.

At this the dwarf was in a quandary, as he had actually been the one to kill this lamb and he really did not want to lie. Instead, he pinched the giant’s skin hard, hoping that he would cotton on, and fortunately he did.

‘Not me,’ replied the giant, and even though the wizard was still suspicious he knew that no falsehood had been uttered. He decided to test the giant with a riddle to try and catch him out, promising another of his sheep as a prize if the riddle was answered correctly but ordering that the giant would have to serve him for one hundred years if he got the riddle wrong:

The brainless giant had no idea, but the dwarf figured it out and answered, ‘A tree in winter.’ This was the correct answer, but before they were allowed to feast on their prize, they had to pose the wizard a riddle, with the same rules applying – if he was baffled they were free to eat the sheep and leave, if not the giant was his slave for a hundred years. The dwarf knew it had to be a good one and thought hard before eventually answering:

The riddle, of course, referred to the meal they had just had and as the wizard had no idea what had happened to his sheep, he couldn’t know the answer to the puzzle. He became extremely angry but knew he had been out-done and so departed in rather a huff.

The other dwarfs came out of their hiding holes and joined in the new feast but the daft giant became carried away in the excitement and carried on eating all the other sheep and an ox as well. The wizard had been watching from afar and returned full of fury. ‘Well, who has eaten my ox?’ he shouted, knowing full well it was the giant. ‘Not me,’ the silly giant replied, remembering his line from earlier, but this time he was lying and the spell was cast to enslave him to the wizard’s service for a hundred years!

Gray goes on to explain that one of the tasks the wizard made the poor giant perform was to dig up some of the hills in Yorkshire and plant them along the Trent riverside, thus helping stop the annual flood that threatened the villages. The river was very cross about this and every year after that it created a huge wave to try and overcome the flood barriers, to no avail – yet that wave can still be seen every so often, even now.

One cannot possibly talk about the folklore and tales of Lincolnshire, never mind its giants and heroes, without mentioning Hereward the Wake. Depicted as both a giant and a hero, the stories of Hereward are a mixture of fact and fiction, the written accounts being of dubious reliability. Overall, however, he is remembered as an Anglo-Saxon rebel leader, fighting against King William I’s Norman regime during the eleventh century. Even though the tales often elevate Hereward to giant stature, there seems to only be one written account that describes his appearance, and in this account he is short! Peter Rex quotes from the
Gesta Herewardi
, ‘Short, stoutly made, agile, with long golden hair, an oval face, with eyes light in colour and not matched.’
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Rex goes on to state that, ‘Among his other, non-military, talents was the ability to sing and play the harp “after the manner of the Girvii” – that is the tribe called the Gyrwe living on the western edge of the Fens and from whom the Fenlanders were descended.’

Sources state that Hereward was the son of Leofric of Bourne and his wife Aediva, although the Domesday Book does not show that Hereward ever held Bourne, nor
can a reference to any Leofric of Bourne be found. There is a Leofric who held land in Lincolnshire and elsewhere in 1066 but there is no proof that he was connected with Hereward. Rex believes that many of the older historical accounts tend to embellish certain facts in order to give them more weight and that their philosophy was often along the lines of ‘heroes need illustrious ancestors’.
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With this in mind, we must remember that certain parts of the Hereward story, although based in fact, do tend towards legend, but for our purposes that only makes for better reading!

Hereward was either exiled or fled around 1063, when he was eighteen; some sources saying his father persuaded King Edward to make him an outlaw as he was keeping very bad company then and causing trouble fighting and stealing, although prior to this he seems to have been a man of some means, owning much land around Lincolnshire. He had many adventures whilst exiled, with his trusty companion Martin Lightfoot, and some sources say he made his way to Northumbria, where the exile laws did not carry much weight. It is said he lived and trained with his godfather, Gilbert of Ghent, who had in his possession an incredibly strong, large white polar bear.
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The bear was kept in a cage and also had one leg chained down for added security, but the story tells that one day it escaped and Hereward found it in the courtyard about to rush at a petrified young girl. Without hesitation, he sprang into action and brought his battleaxe down hard upon the skull of the bear. The bear fell dead just in front of the stunned girl and Hereward’s fight with the beast became a renowned folk tale.

Legend sends Hereward on various romantic adventures, around Northumbria, Ireland, Flanders and in another heroic story he ends up in Cornwall. It is here he is said to have rescued the daughter of the reputed King of Cornwall from marrying a man she was not in love with and reuniting her with the King of Ireland’s son, whom she wanted to marry. Hereward, the true heroic knight!

It was while he was travelling round during his exile that he heard his homeland had become ‘subject to the rule of foreigners’
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and that the Normans had seized his father’s estates and murdered his younger brother. He returned to England with his bride, Turfrida, and planned how to retake his father’s house. Marlow writes that he placed himself one night at the gate of the house and listened to the revelry and drunkenness within.
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A lady inside tried to calm the foreigners by telling them the brother may come and exact revenge for those they had murdered. The French laughed at her and said he would not dare show his face, and at this Hereward revealed himself and slew every last one of them. He took his revenge for his fallen brother, whose head greeted him on a spike by the door on his return home and legend states that fourteen Norman heads replaced it above the door the next day. This defeat of the Normans caused word to spread and English and Danish warriors to gather with him to form an alliance against the Norman Conquest.

Hereward and his followers are said to have made their hideouts in the Fens, wetlands and marshes, which were then also thickly forested in parts, giving his story a Robin Hood feel. They knew the treacherous marshes by heart and so were hidden from the enemy and had the advantage.

The Aldreth village sign remembers Hereward, as the area is thought to have been a causeway into the Isle of Ely and it was also possibly the site of two battles fought by Hereward.

This suited Hereward and his men and they joined the stronghold on the Isle of Ely, which was surrounded by this Fenland and which William the Conqueror wished to take. The Isle of Ely was an ideal place for a stronghold – access across bridges could be easily guarded and it was easy to pick off approaching forces, especially strangers unfamiliar with the land who, dressed in heavy armour, would struggle in the unstable marshes. Fire in the marshes could also spread quickly as the sedge and reed were extremely flammable and this terrified the opposing army. The abundance of wildlife in the area made a siege work in their favour as they had plenty of food and water to keep them alive.