Folklore | Guernsey Superstitions

Islands tend to be rich in folklore and perhaps nowhere more than Guernsey. Perhaps it’s due to being even more at the mercy of the weather and other elements than most of us… Maybe some of the stories were simply invented to discourage islanders from venturing to the caves and other spots where smugglers and pirates hung out. But they’re great tales either way. Here are a few of the superstitions and folktales that have shaped the island. 

1. Guernsey fishers believe it’s unlucky to say they’re ‘going fishing’ as the fish may hear. They say they’re ‘off out on the boat’ instead. 

2. Herbs are often believed to hold cures for all manner of ills but Guernsey gardeners believe their magic will only work if you swear as you plant the herbs. So much for gardening being good for your wellbeing.

3. Apparently if you walk around the fairy ring at Pleinmont three times and make a wish, it will come true. 

4. In the west of the island, many of the houses have seats outside for witches. They were built in times when witches were prolific on Guernsey, so locals built seats so they could stop and rest, rather than create more mayhem. 

5. Friday is believed to be an unlucky day, partly because Christ was crucified on a Friday and partly because that was the day the witches met. Superstitious Guernsey dwellers tend not to have a hair cut, use a new tool or try any new venture on a Friday. 

6. Sore throat sufferers wrap a worn sock around their necks as they sleep at night to cure it by morning.

7. Islanders ‘let the bees know’ of any big family news. Bees and their honey were much prized in the Guernsey countryside historicaly, with many having a hive in their gardens, and folk still ‘let the bees know’ of any big news today. 

8. Great attention is paid to the colour of flames inside the home. If the fire or a candle in a Guernsey home burns green rather than orange it’s said to be caused by the presence of evil. We’d argue it was caused by the presence of copper, but we’ll keep that to ourselves in case the witches hear.

If the superstitions above have inspired you to plan a trip or just learn more about this beautiful spot, don’t miss our ‘My Island’ feature in our May issue, in which Holly Farrell shows us around a few of her favourite island haunts, including the neolithic statue called ‘The Grandmother’ pictured above.

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Folklore | Beira Queen of Winter

Hills and hollows, cliffs and caves have inspired folklore for generations. Here’s one tale in which the British landscape has become a character in itself…

The appropriately named Loch Awe is Scotland’s longest freshwater loch, and we have Beira, Queen of Winter, to thank for this incredible view. As well as creating mountains and using the wild Corryvreckan whirlpool near Jura as her washing machine, this giantess with blue skin and one eye also made Loch Awe by mistake. One day, after drinking from a well, she forgot to cover it again. The water overflowed and flooded the land, forming this magnificent loch. It is now home to a monster, of course – the Big Beast, who has 12 legs and looks like a gigantic eel.

You can read more about British landscapes that have inspired folk tales in our January issue feature, Scene Setting. The issue is in shops now or can be ordered from our online store.

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Outing | Hunting for Dragons

February 10th marks the beginning of Lunar New Year and the year of the dragon. Britain also has a long and fascinating dragon history. If you’d like to walk in the scaly footsteps of dragons, here are a few places you might like to try hunting one down.

● Dinas Emrys, North Wales Under this Iron-Age hillfort in Gwynedd sleep the Saxon white dragon and the Welsh red dragon, symbols of both ancient conflict and Britain’s intermingled cultures.

● Dragon Hill, Oxfordshire Legend says that St George killed the dragon on this hillock below the Uffington White Horse. Apparently, no grass grows on its top due to the dragon’s spilled, poisonous blood.

● Orkney & Shetland, North Sea Hero, Assipattle, killed a sea dragon called Mester Stoor Worm. Its teeth formed the islands of Orkney, Shetland and the Faroes, while its body became Iceland.

● The Quantocks, Somerset Legend has it a terrible lizard known as the Gurt Worm was dispatched near here – the severed halves of its writhing body now form the Quantock Hills.

● Exe Valley, Devon Not all the UK’s fantastical monsters have been slain. Every night, a dragon residing in Devon’s Exe Valley is said to fly between the Iron Age forts at Dolbury Hill and Cadbury Castle to protect buried treasure. In a fiery twist, Dolbury Hill is the remnant of an extinct volcano.

This Dragon-Hunting Guide is taken from our ‘Know A Thing or Two’ feature on the creatures in our February issue by Nick Hunt. You can read more by turning to page 69.

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Folklore | Jack in the Green

This May Day, meet a famous folklore face… Jack in the Green…

Compton Verney in Warwickshire, famed for its folk-art collection, is hosting an exhibition called Making Mischief: Folk Costume in Britain, curated by Simon Costin and Mellany Robinson of the Museum of British Folklore, and Professor Amy de la Haye from the London College of Fashion. It features more than 40 costumes on display, including this ‘Jack in the Green’ get up, the walking embodiment of the Green Man, that emblem of rebirth commonly carved in churches and painted on pub signs.

A Mayday custom first recorded in the 18th century, Jack and his attendant Green Bogies lead merrymakers until, at day’s end, he is stripped of his leaves to unleash the spirit of summer. One of the most notable annual events is the one revived in Hastings in 1983.

Exhibition curator Simon Costin was so enchanted by the spectacle that he co-founded Gay Bogies on Acid (fellow member, Spencer Horne, is pictured above), whose subsequent – and spectacular – impact on proceedings is widely seen as a touchstone for advancing LGBTQ+ inclusion in folk customs.

Making Mischief: Folk Costume in Britain is at Compton Verney until 11 June 2023. comptonverney.org.uk. See more of the costumes in the May issue of The Simple Things, which is on sale now.

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How to | Be More Mermaid

Find your inner (and maybe even your outer) mermaid with our guide to living the life aquatic

In our August issue, we meet a ‘real, live’ mermaid (St Ives resident Laura Evans) and we were inspired to be a bit more mermaid ourselves. 

Here are a few tips and tricks to help you be more mermaid in your everyday life.

Find familiarity with the sea

Start by investing in an almanac so you know when the tide times are. No point sitting, combing your hair on a rock if you’re going to be stranded there and have someone offer you a Cornetto when you start to look a bit hot. You need to be on a rock with the spray splashing around you so that you can dive off before any embarrassing Cornetto moments arise. 

Sing sailors to their deaths

No, it’s not ‘nice’ but it must be done when one is a mermaid. And if you sound anything like us in the shower in the mornings you shouldn’t have any trouble luring folk to their deaths at the sound of your singing. 

Build up an air of mystery

Because obviously, if you are a mermaid living on dry land, you are living an amazing, secret double life, so mystery should come easily to you. If it doesn’t, try staring off into the middle distance in a manner of someone hoping to see France from the Isle of Wight. 

 Have good hair

An egg wash will definitely give it shine, but a sprinkling of sand or the odd shell weaved into your locks will go even further towards creating the illusion of a sea-faring life. 

 Use waterproof make-up

Mascara is a particular giveaway of a landlubbing life, when it’s running down your cheeks leaving black rivulets behind it. 

 Feign misunderstanding of the ways of ‘normal’ folk

Look with curiosity upon life jackets. Ponder the umbrella with complete miscomprehension. And - a must - stare at shoes with a complete lack of understanding. If forced to walk, try to keep your ankles together or flail on the sand on your belly as if you’d never seen a leg in your life. 

 Be low key

Go for an ‘undone’ look, with hair down, make up (and clothes, to be honest) minimal, and keep a wild look in your eyes. 

Take a mermaid name.

You could go pure seaside with Ariel or Coralia, or you could go a bit more mystical. 

 Have scallop shells for bra cups

But know when discomfort becomes too much and have something nice and non-wired to slip into when you get home and slide onto the sofa. 

 Eschew talcum powder at all costs

You’re meant to stay wet, you know? Defy the chafe!

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Folklore | Hag stones

The weird and wonderful stories behind stones with holes in

There’s all kinds of treasure to be found at the seaside, from pretty shells and mermaids’ purses, to sea glass and pebbles. But there’s a particular joy in finding a stone with a hole in and holding it up to spy the sea through. 

Hag stones, as they are properly called, have been enchanting the folk of Britain for centuries, often literally. They’ve often been believed to have magical properties and to be able to mysteriously ward off witches and other ne’er-do-wells. 

It’s all in the hole, you see. The theory goes that only good things can pass through a hole, so while good fortune and good wishes will find you through a hag stone, bad luck and evil thoughts are too big to be able to pass through the hole and become stuck in the middle. This belief may be bolstered by the centuries old belief that magic cannot work on moving water. So, since the hole in a hag stone was created by moving water, it works as a sort of ‘shield’ against spells and the like. 

If you visit the coast soon, keep your eye out for a hag stone of your own.* And when you’ve found one, take it home as protection. Here are a few uses for the hag stone in your life. 

• Hang it above your front door or over a window to keep evil spirits out. 

• If you’re a sailor, tie one with rope to your ship to prevent witches clinging to your vessel, and to swing in the wind to help break up storm clouds. 

• Wear it around your neck on a string to ensure good health and to heal any minor ills. 

• Nail one above the door of your barn to stop witches souring your herd’s milk or taking your horses for a gallop in the night. 

• Attach a hag stone to your bedpost to keep bad dreams away. 

• Tie one to your keys so they will never be lost again. 

• Use them to help you conceive a baby. (We’re not quite clear on exactly how this is done. Perhaps just have one about your person…)

• Enter Fairyland through it (apparently the hole is a portal). Again, we’re unsure about how to do this, but it can’t hurt to just have a peer at Fairyland through the hole. 

*Only ever take one at a time though, and only for yourself. The stones are said to find you; you don’t find the stones. And they only work for the person they found. Plus, you’re not really meant to remove things from Britain’s beaches, but we think the very occasional hag stone is probably ok. 

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Small folk | Fairy Encounters

Do you believe in fairies? The camera never lies…

Have you ever had a fairy encounter? Many people have believed they have over the years, including Arthur Conan Doyle who was famously a firm believer in the Cottingley Fairies, until the girls who took the fairy photos admitted their prank.

More recently, Manchester Met professor of Art Research, John Hyatt, made headlines when he apparently photographed fairies in Whitaker Park, Rossendale, in Lancashire. 

"I was just taking [photos of] sunset through the trees and when I enlarged the photographs later in the studio, I saw these figures," he told the Manchester Evening News back in 2014. "They are not doctored apart from I increased the size of a detailed section of a larger photograph along with the DPI to stop them being just large pixels -- normal size enhancement techniques."

Some swore the tiny creatures with long legs were indeed fairy folk, while others, such as Erica McAlister, an expert in ‘small flying things’ from The Natural History Museum, was more circumspect, albeit in a rather charming way: “My first impression is that they can’t be fairies because there is no wand. But that’s like saying mosquitoes aren’t flies because they don’t look like ordinary house flies. So I had to approach this more taxonomically. Hmmm… maybe they are not fairies at all but rather insects. Small swarming winged insects. Small swarming midges such as chironomids.”

Hyatt replied that “People can decide for themselves what they are. The message to people is to approach them with an open mind," he said. “I think it’s one of those situations where you need to believe to see. A lot of people who have seen them say they have brought a little bit of magic into their lives and there’s not enough of that around.”

We think we can all agree with that. But maybe put that fly swat down… it might be a fairy!

You can see the Rossendale fairies/flies on the Natural History Museum’s website, where McAlister gives her full report on them. 

If you’re planning a magical midsummer for this week, don’t miss our feature on days out in search of fairies, mermaids and more small folk in our June issue, in shops now.

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Magic | Willows

What’s that whispering in the breeze? Could it be elves? 

There’s something rather magical about a willow and the way they’ve insinuated themselves into cultures across the globe, waving breezily on the banks of the river in Kenneth Grahame’s stories of the riverbank one moment, and standing beautiful and blue on Willow Pattern plates the next.  

Go as far back as ancient Greece and you’ll know that Orpheus was said to have gained his gifts for music and poetry by touching the willow trees in a grove sacred to Persephone. Shakespeare featured willows frequently, too, though by then they were getting rather a bad press, with Viola begging an unrequited love to “make me a willow cabin at your gate”, Ophelia falling to her death from a broken willow branch, and Desdemona having her death foretold by a song about the trees. Shakespeare’s heroines don’t have a great experience with willows, all told.  

In Japan ghosts are said to dwell where willows grow, while in British folklore willows are believed to be capable of uprooting themselves and stalking travellers.  

But despite this, the trees have also been strong symbols of good fortune and positive magic.  

European folklore told that the sound a weeping willow makes in the breeze is the sound of elves whispering. Perhaps they were begging the wood to reveal the secrets of those who have told their innermost thoughts to a willow, to have them bound safe forever in its wood, as the story goes. As any Harry Potter aficionado will tell you, willow makes for the most magical of wands (and the strongest of broomsticks - well, if it’s good enough for cricket bats…) 

Meanwhile, Native Americans tied willow branches to their boats in order to protect them in a storm.  And if all that is not protection enough for you, folklore tells that if you knock on the trunk of a willow it will disappear your bad luck for you, which is where the superstition of knocking on wood was born.  

Superstition aside, willow bark has been used for thousands of years both as a pain killer and an anti-inflammatory. The Native Americans sometimes referred to it as the Toothache Tree. They were likely onto something there, as willow bark contains salicin, a natural form of aspirin. Magic indeed, when your wisdom teeth are giving you trouble and knocking on wood has done you no good.  

In our March issue, we meet some real people who perform magic with willows; the mother-daughter team at Willow With Roots willowwithroots.co.uk/, who weave their homegrown willow into everything from lampshades and magic wands to sculptures and garden hideaways. Now, if they’d like to make us a willow cabin at anyone’s gate, we’d probably be happy to forget all about unrequited love. Read more on page 60. 

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Folklore | Blackberries

This beautiful blackberries image is from our August issue, where we’re celebrating the beginning of blackberrying season.

Make the most of them now, though; folklore has it that you shouldn’t eat blackberries after Michaelmas Day (September 29th).

When St Michael, for whom the day is named, battled Lucifer and kicked him out of heaven, Lucifer landed in hell, on a thorny blackberry bush. So angry was he, that he cursed the blackberry bush and ensured its berries would taste foul from St Michaelmas Day onwards.

We’re unsure why the poor blackberry bush suffered the blame for Lucifer’s thorny and sore behind rather than St Michael, but it sounds like a good reason to us to get picking your blackberries now. Don’t forget to freeze a few so you can make them into a blackberry pie for St Michaelmas Day and stick it to Lucifer with your delicious early autumn blackberries.

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British Summer | Weird Weekends

Only in Britain could posters go up all over the countryside for cheese-rolling contests, scarecrow competitions and lawnmower races, and no one turn a single hair. As a nation, we’ve proudly kept many of our stranger folk traditions, and added a few new ones along the way. 

If you’re looking for a day out with a difference this summer (or even some that comply with social distancing or that you could recreate at home), we’ve gathered a few ideas here. If you thought well-dressing and morris dancing was niche, prepare to be folking astounded. 

Toe Wrestling

The World Toe Wrestling Championships is held in Derbyshire every July. It began in 1976 when a few friends down the pub were lamenting Britain’s lack of athletics success. Forty-four years later, it’s going strong and is held in the Bentley Brook Inn in Fenny Bentley most years. Bare-footed participants lock big toes over a tiny wrestling arena and compete to wrangle the other’s foot to the side first. The rules are similar to arm wrestling and you start with right feet, then swap to left, then back again. Be warned - toe wrestling has regularly ended in injury and even broken toes, so go easy if you’re holding your own championships at home. Or perhaps try Thumb Wars instead. 

Bog Snorkelling

What better way to spend August Bank Holiday than snorkelling in a peat bog? Don’t answer that, but in case you were wondering, bog snorkelling is an event during which participants compete to do two lengths (60 yards each) of a water-filled trench cut through a peat bog, wearing snorkels and flippers. Swimming strokes may not be used - you may travel by means of flipper power alone. The Waen Rhydd peat bog near Llanwrtyd Wells in mid Wales has hosted the annual World Bog Snorkelling Championship since 1985. If you can’t make it there, perhaps get the paddling pool out at home. 

The Burryman’s Parade

At a loose end on the second Friday of August? Fancy seeing a grown man covered head to toe in sticky burrs paraded around for nine hours, his arms supported on poles decorated with flowers? Then head to South Queensferry on the south bank of the Firth of Forth, where the Burryman (a human covered in sticky flower and seed heads from the burdock plant is guided through town, stopping at inns and alehouses and given drinks of whisky (through a straw to avoid the burrs) at each. Folklore tells that bad luck will befall the town if the Burryman is not given whisky and money each year, in a tradition that’s thought to be thousands of years old. We’ll give the whisky a go and leave the burrs on the plant, we think - they’re a devil to get out of wool. 

Hallaton Hare Pie Scramble and Bottle-Kicking

Once described as ‘the bloodiest event in England’ this contest between the villages of Medbourne and Hallaton in Leicestershire is not for the faint-hearted. The competition, on Easter Monday, opens with a parade and large hare pie being blessed by a vicar, then cut up and thrown into the assembled crowd. There follows a race to get one of the barrels of beer (a bottle) over the other village’s boundary by any means, including kicking, throwing and rolling. It’s a terrifying free-for-all that makes a game of rugby look like a crochet circle in a nunnery. We aren’t sure this is one you’d want to try at home but there’s nothing to stop you making a rabbit pie and playing skittles with some beer bottles in the garden.

Burning of Bartle

If Guy Fawkes’ Night is not enough dangerous drunken revelry close to open flames for you in one calendar year, you might like to mark Burning Bartle weekend, held on the Saturday closest to St Bartholomew’s Day (24th August) in West Witton, North Yorkshire. Bartle is thought to have been a sheep stealer who was caught some centuries back (us British do enjoy a grudge as well as a weird festival, don’t we?). Today the village marks it by creating a huge effigy of Bartle, much like a ‘Guy’, complete with mask, sheep’s wool hair and beard and glowing eyes (just to terrify any tourists not in the know, we suppose), which is then propped against a dry stone wall and set on fire to much singing and shouting, before everyone decamps to the pub. It’s certainly a niche celebration but we all have a Bartle in our lives, somewhere. Make your own effigy, have a bonfire and sit and enjoy your grudge over a beer or two in the comfort of your own garden. Glowing eyes optional. 

In our July issue you’ll find the first in our new series, Modern Eccentrics, in which we celebrate people who are passionate about their pastimes and happily doing things a bit differently. This month, Julian Owen meets some thoroughly modern morris dancers.

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Oranges and lemons (and more things the bells said)

An explanation of a rather confusing nursery rhyme

In our January issue, we have a zesty, juicy collection of recipes by Lia Leendertz all using oranges and lemons (and other citrus fruits too). And it got us wondering, why do the bells of St Clements say ‘oranges and lemons’? And in fact, what on earth were all those other bells in the nursery rhyme on about, too? Well, we found out, and we’ll tell you. 

What did the bells of St Clements say?

“Oranges and lemons.”

Why?

St Clement Danes church is on The Strand. The oranges and lemons refer to the fruits that would have been unloaded on the wharves nearby. 

What did the bells of St Martin’s say?

“You owe me five farthings”

Why?

Presumably because not much else rhymes with ‘Martin’s’, but the farthings also apparently refer to the money lenders who worked near St Martin’s in Orgar church just off Cannon Street. 

What did the bells of Old Bailey ask?

“When will you pay me?”

Why?

Well, actually, they didn’t at all. This is a complex one. The Old Bailey of course has no bell at all, being a court rather than a church. The bells referred to are thought to belong to the church of St Sepulchre Without Newgate and the bell of Newgate Prison, located opposite. Newgate would have housed debtors who would then have been tried at The Old Bailey, hence ‘when will you pay me?’

What did the bells of Shoreditch reply?

“When I grow rich?”

Why?

This one’s a bit sarcastic. The bells belong to St Leonard’s church in Hackney, an area that at the time was particularly poor and known for being home to Shakespearean actors, who were definitely not known for their wealth. No one within sound of St Leonard’s would have had much hope of ever growing rich.

What did the bells of Stepney ask?

“When will that be?”

Why?

St Dunstan’s church in Stepney High Street was known as ‘the church of the seas’ as many sailors are buried here. ‘When will that be’ is thought to refer to the wives of the sailors who might have to wait years for them to return with their wages. 

What did the great bell of Bow boom?

“I do not know”

Why?

We don’t know either. What we do know is that the great bell of Box probably refers not to Bow Church but to the bells of Mary-le-Box in Cheapside. 

As for the candle to light you to bed and the chopper to chop off your head, the candle is said to refer to the Bellman of St Sepulchre who would visit condemned prisoners at midnight, by candlelight to inform them of their fate. The choppers are exactly what you think. Ouch.

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Christmas: Make a 100 wishes bay leaf garland

Make a 100 wishes bay leaf garland or wreath this Christmas.

You will need:

A needle and strong thread, in any colour
Lots of bay leaves.

1. Tie a knot at the end of a long piece of thread and run the needle through each leaf until you have gathered a large bunch.

2. Next, pull and tie the two ends together. 

3.The garland can be tied to a door or placed on a table. Use the bay leaves over winter to cook with, write down your wishes, dreams and hopes and share them with your friends. Simple pleasures. 

Taken from The Magpie & The Wardrobe: A Curiosity of Folklore, Magic & Spells by Sam McKechnie and Alexandrine Portelli (Pavilion Books)

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Folklore | foxgloves

Why foxgloves are called foxgloves

The tall, colourful spires that tower over cottage garden borders in June have a wealth of stories behind them. And no wonder really. They are fascinatingly paradoxical - digitalis is a deadly poison but is used in life-saving heart medicine; beautiful - the pretty, bell-shaped flowers, are dappled with spots inside… All in all, they are simply crying out for a fairytale backstory, and folklore has provided generously.

Some stories have told that the word ‘foxglove’ is merely a misrepresentation of ‘folk’s glove’, ie gloves little people might wear.

Another says that the gloves do indeed belong to foxes and that fairies gave them to the foxes to put on their paws to enable them to sneak silently into the hen house without being heard.This story is echoed in the belief that the mottled spots inside the flowers are actually fairy handprints. DNA evidence will always catch you out in the end, fairies.

What fairies have against hens we aren’t sure, but perhaps it was more to do with being fans of foxes than enemies of friends. Because another tale goes that the bell-shaped flowers would make a magical noise when rung and the fairies taught foxes to ring the bells of foxgloves to warn other foxes when a fox hunt was nearby.

The botanist RCA Prior thought that the name came from foxes-glew, meaning ‘folks’ music’, supporting the ‘bell’ theory, but this idea has been debunked by etymologists [https://blog.oup.com/2010/11/foxglove/].

Indeed, the argument becomes more complex when you take into account that the foxglove is known by several different names, including todtail (fox tail)’, dead men’s bells, ladies’ fingers, bunny rabbits, floppy dock and dragon’s mouth.

So who knows where the name originated. But if the glove fits...

In our June issue, we have a feature on Anne-Marie Curtin’s cut flower garden, where the beautiful foxgloves above were grown (foragefor.co.uk).

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