Folklore thoughts for July

Our English Oak trees are at their best just now and when driving around the countryside it is, perhaps, now that their magnificence convey to us to this day why they provided meeting places for pagans. To the Druids, the Oak was a sacred tree and, later, in or near to oak groves came to be a favoured location for churches.

There are claims that it took 900 acres of oak trees to produce a battle ship

The ‘Honour oak,’ at Tavistock was recognised as being the boundary limit for the French prisoners on parole.

Significant ‘local’ oak trees became the exchange place for goods during the cholera epidemic 1832 and were used for centuries to provide a roof over money exchanging.

The walk to the miniature oaks of Wistmans Wood, near Two Bridges, is recommended for all that are seeking their future. Rest there a while, and consider the alternatives open to you. Walk away but do not look back.

There are many stories associated with July 15th, St Swithun’s Day, the best know of which is obviously;

St Swithin's Day, if ye do rain,

For, forty days it will remain;

St Swithim's Day, an ye be fair,

For forty days 'twill rain n" mair.

But there are others;

In 1887 a drought was interrupted by rain on St Swithun's ... but then the drought re- turned.

The incongruity between the yearly prediction and what actually happens did not escape our forebears. In Ben Jonson's 17th-century play ‘Every Man Out of His Humour,’ one of the characters contemplates after the 15th:

"why it should rain 40 days after, now more or less; it was a rule held afore I was able to hold a plough, and yet here are two days no rain: ha! It makes me muse."

Swithun also blesses the apple crop today, making the fruit fit to eat:

Till Swithun's Day be past, The apples be not fit to taste

There are many unusual happenings to celebrate in July and some have gruesome stories at their base; but such stories are as much of summer folklore as any other time of year. One of our favourites relates to St Kenelm’s Day 17th July

Ruthless Quendreda wanted to be Queen of Mercia. In her way stood her seven-year old brother Kenelm who had just been crowned King. Quendreda bribed her lover Ashbert, who was also Kenelm's tutor, to kill the boy when they went on a hunting trip between Winchcombe in Gloucestershire and Kenelmstowe (now Clent, near Hagley) Hereford and Worcester. Alone in the wilds, Ashbert tried to murder the boy, but Kenelm simply said: 'This is not the place ordained for you to kill me.' As proof, he planted his staff in the ground, and up sprang a thorn tree. This deterred Ashbert; but later, at what must have been the 'ordained place', he succeeded in beheading his pupil.

The murder did not remain secret for long. Kenelm's skull burst open, and out flapped a dove with a parchment in its beak. It flew straight to Rome and dropped it into the Pope's lap; who, well versed in Anglo- Saxon, read the strained verse:

In Clent cow-pasture, under a thorn;

Of head bereft lies Kenelm, king-born.

The Pope contacted all the kings in England, who organised a manhunt for the missing boy. The searchers were led to the grave by a white cow. Bright light shone from the ground when the corpse was retrieved, and at the same instant a healing well began to flow: it can still be seen in a valley in the Clent Hills behind the church at Romsley, Hereford and Worcester.

An alternative site for Kenelm's grave is marked by an 18th-century grotto in the garden of Bleby House in Winchcombe. As the funeral procession made its way to Winchcombe Abbey, Quendreda tried to bewitch Kenelm's body by reading the Cursing Psalm - 108 (or possibly 107) - backwards. But her eyes fell out and spattered the psalter:

That bloody book can still be seen in St Pancras' Church, Winchcombe, along with St Kenelm's coffin.

However, the legend is nowhere the facts. The duller truth is that Kenelm died before his father, King Kenulf - also buried in the Winchcbmbe church - during a war in 821, and Quendreda was an innocent Abbess of Minster in Kent.

22nd July St Mary Magdelen’s Day or should it be Nessiteras Rhombopteryx. Day?

A week into St Swithin's 40-day down-pour and the rain gets some extra help from Mary Magdelene. It is traditionally, and imaginatively, said that on her feast day - it will rain, as Mary is washing her handkerchief prior to visiting St James Fair on the 25th.

Red roses are said to be blushing today, on behalf of the penitent Mary, out of whose body Jesus cast seven demons.

At Calvary she stood by his Cross and later anointed his dead body.

Mary was also the first person to see him after his Resurrection.

Not celebrated over much in the South West, but worthy of mention, is that July 22nd is becoming regarded as Nessiteras Rhombopteryx. Day to commemorate a beast of legend, or fact, or fiction or all three in some way that has become world renowned

The Loch Ness Monster is now a major tourist industry. Fruitlessly aiming binoculars over the deep icy waters here in the middle of the Highland region has become an international custom. But this was not always the case. In spite of a handful of medieval sightings, it was not until July 22nd 1933 that modem media attention fixed on the site, and every bobbing twig or paddling vole began to be positively identified as a mysterious denizen of the deep. On that day a six-foot-long slimy grey monster was spotted dashing across a road near the Loch.

Two years later Nessie was being described as a 20-foot-long cross between a seal and a pleisiosaur.

By the 1950s photographs of the beast or beasts started appearing. In the 1970s high- profile naturalist Sir Peter Scott put his seal of approval on the believers' cause, basing his faith on some spectacular close-ups and giving the monster an acceptable Latin and scientific name, Nessiteras rhombopteryx, 'the Ness monster with the diamond- shaped fins'.

Or did he? Could there is more to this than just the name he gave Nessie?

(More on this next month.)

Meanwhile, there is just time for a reminder about;

25th July St Christopher’s day/ St James’ Day and , in Cornwall, Knillian Day

John Knill, alleged King of local smugglers is said to have built the monument on Worvas Hill, St Ives, to assist his illegal activities. Every five years Knillian Day is celebrated and, traditionally, a fiddler leads 10 young girl dancers, daughters of seamen and tin miners, who dance at guildhall and, later, at the monument. Here, the Mayor, a customs officer and local widows join the girls and sing the Hundredth Psalm In his will, Knill left money to pay the fiddler, girls and widows a pound or two while the Mayor and customs officer get £10. His monument was built as a future mausoleum for himself – but site consecration was not permitted. The monument became surprisingly useful as a shipping guide while Knill, a one time Mayor, was buried at Holborn in 1782. Does Knill still lead them all a merry dance as he did as a smuggler ?

The last Knillian celebration was in 2001……. So……..

© Roy & Ursula Radford