If you popped into Mrs Smith’s Cottage over the summer, you will have noticed a little exhibition concerning another remarkable female figure from our county, Ethel Rudkin. Much like the resident of Navenby, Rudkin defied expectations for women of her era by forging a remarkable path in life. In her case it was in the world of folklore.
There are many other comparisons between these two ladies; both of them were born in Lincolnshire (within a year of each other), both lived to a late age, both lost their partners in the First World War. Smith’s home became a museum while Rudkin donated much of her collection to a museum in Lincoln.
Rudkin travelled the length and breadth of Lincolnshire in her Morris car, investigating and documenting folklore tales, talking to the people of the county as she recorded their stories and experiences. Before the age of television and the internet, entertainment among the ordinary folk of the countryside would be through song and storytelling, so it was in the evenings after working on the land when these tales would be shared. With the spooky season coming up, those darker and colder nights leading to Halloween, it seems the right time to have a look at some of these folklore tales from our area.
Byard’s Leap
Just down the road from Sleaford (and within our distribution area!) you’ll find the hamlet of Byard’s Leap off the A17. You may well have passed by many times but never stopped to investigate this unassuming place of remarkable supernatural happenings. Rudkin recorded numerous tales concerning wizards and witches, but within this settlement lived an evil witch by the name of Meg who became a bane to the other villagers. A knight from the area (interestingly, the area had strong associations with the Knights Templar) resolved to kill the witch and chose a blind horse named Byard as his steed. Perhaps he selected him because blind horses are less easily spooked, but the witch dug her nails into Byard’s flesh, causing him to leap 60 feet through the air. According to the tale, the knight regained control of Byard and came back around to hack the witch to death. It’s a story that has passed down the centuries, and a 1970s folk band by the name of Decameron even recorded a song about the tale.
Devilry in Dorrington?
Steeped in history and its strong spiritual associations, its no surprise to find so many churches with curious and creepy tales attached to them. One such tale that has become synonymous with Lincolnshire is of course the Imp, the grotesque little being who reminds us that even in a place as holy as a cathedral, evil can find its place. But we have equally strange tales associated with churches even closer to home. Regarding the church in Dorrington, there is a tale of when the church was built. Workmen took stone from a druid’s temple to build the church, but in the dead of night, all the stone they had collected magically whisked its way back to where they had taken it, perhaps by demons. The same church has a strange legend that if you look through the building’s keyhole at midnight, you will espy the devil playing with marbles… No doubt the ones you’ve just lost. Elsewhere in the village there are numerous tales of ghosts and a strange creature who lives under a bridge. Fascinating stuff; please do not have nightmares, our dear readers over in Dorrington!
The Anwick Drake Stone
Over in Anwick, one finds another devilish tale associated with the village church. Ethel Rudkin herself investigated this tale and documented the moving of the Drake Stones, which villagers believed were associated with the devil. Currently they stand outside the main entrance to the church. Some spoke of the devil’s cave being found underneath these stones, within which is stored treasure.
Tiddy Munn
The fenland areas of Lincolnshire are rife of tales of wil-o’-the-wikes, witches, and boggarts. The legend of Tiddy Munn arose when the Dutch were draining the fens, a wizardly spirit with a long white beard and no taller in stature than a 3-year-old child. He was angered with man’s tampering of the landscape and brought pestilence to the villages. But Tiddy Munn was not too malicious a being and was eventually placated when the folk went to the marshes to wish him well and chant rhymes to him. It seemed to do the trick, as Tiddy Munn lifted the spell and the villages thrived once more.
In the spirit of Ethel Rudkin’s work and continuing the theme of preserving oral history, if you have any local folklore tales to tell us about, particularly those relating to our area, or ones less talked about, then we would love to hear them. Perhaps something relating to a church or historic building? Or perhaps an old custom passed down through the generations? Please drop Rich a line or email him on info@yourlocallincs.co.uk.
