Folklore of Yorkshire (27 page)

A similar, but even more surreal story is told about the ruined fourteenth-century hunting tower known as Dob Park Lodge in Washburndale. At the foot of the remains of the staircase, there is a debris-choked aperture which must once have led to the cellars, and this had long been a source of rumour and intrigue locally. One night, a notorious ‘n’er-do-well’ of the district, under the influence of alcohol, resolved to explore the tunnel and a crowd of neighbours gathered above to await his return. The brave man did not return for some considerable time, but just as his friends were starting to grow genuinely concerned, he suddenly erupted from the depths in a state of great terror.

When the man had collected himself, he explained that he had followed the passage a great distance until he began to grow weary. Yet at the very moment he had resolved to turn back, an unearthly music began to fill the air around him, and the sound so cheered him that it drew him on. He never discovered the source of that music, but eventually he stumbled into a vast room ‘as big as any church’, lit by another blazing fire in the hearth. In the centre of the room was a table with a glass set out, and against the wall a great chest bound with iron bands and three locks, above which hung a great broadsword.

Beside the hearth stood ‘a great, black, rough dog, as big as any two or three mastiffs’ and the explorer was taken aback when this creature proceeded to address him in a human voice. It said, ‘Now, my man, as you’ve come here, you must do one of three things, or you’ll never see daylight again. You must either drink all the liquor there is in that glass, open that chest or draw that sword.’ Apparently unfazed by this miraculous speech, the man surveyed his options and concluded that the chest looked too well-secured to open, and the sword too heavy for him to lift, so he opted to drink from the glass.

However, when the fluid touched his lips he found that it scalded hotter than any boiling water and, as he swigged, an invisible hand drew the sword and the lid of the chest sprang open, revealing it to be brimming with gold. Taken aback, he slammed the glass down, causing it to shatter, whereupon his lantern and the fire were instantly extinguished. The mysterious music also abruptly ceased, to be replaced by a frightful howling and yelling, whilst something right beside him began to scream. He fainted, and after coming round in the darkness, fled the tunnel as quickly as he possibly could.

Dob Park Lodge in Washburndale, location of buried treasure and a talking dog. (Kai Roberts)

Yet another story in this vein is told of Richmond Castle in North Yorkshire. On one of his regular perambulations around Castle Hill, local man Potter Thompson was surprised to see a cavern in the hillside that he had never noticed before. He summoned up his courage to pursue the tunnel and after stumbling through the debris-choked darkness for some time, he encountered a great boulder which seemed to have been deliberately placed to prevent further progress. However, Thompson was not deterred and succeeded in traversing the stone, whereupon he found himself in a large chamber, radiant with a supernatural light and glittering with crystals, spars and stalactites.

In the centre of the chamber, there was a rocky table upon which lay a figure wearing armour and a crown, whilst on the floor surrounding him, twelve knights were similarly prostrate. A great shield balanced next to the table and Thompson recognised the crest upon it as that of the legendary King Arthur. Clearly this was where he and his knights had been taken following the hero’s death at the Battle of Camlann, to lie in an enchanted slumber until such a time as England needed them again – a conviction first mentioned by William of Malmesbury in his 1125 work,
Gesta Regum Anglorum
.

Richmond Castle, resting place of the legendary King Arthur? (Kai Roberts)

The awestruck Thompson also noticed that a horn and sheathed sword hung from a wall of the cavern, and unable to resist his curiosity, attempted to draw the sword from its scabbard. As he did so, he noticed that the knights began to stir from their timeless rest and terrified by this development, he immediately replaced the sword and fled. But, as Thompson ran, a disembodied voice resounded through the tunnel: ‘Potter Potter Thompson! If thou had’st either drawn the sword or blown the horn, thoud’st be the luckiest man that ever yet was born!’ Some time afterwards, when he had recovered his nerve, Thompson attempted to return to the cavern and claim whatever fortune he had turned away from. Of course, he could never locate the opening again.

Although this is one of the few Arthurian legends in Yorkshire (he is also supposed to sleep beneath Freeborough Hill near Guisborough), the form is a familiar one. The King in the Mountain or Sleeping Hero motif is found across Europe and is associated with numerous semi-legendary figures, such as Charlemagne and Frederick Barbarossa. In the British Isles, the story is also told of Owain Lawgoch, Fionn MacCumhaill and Thomas the Rhymer, whilst King Arthur himself is reputed to be sleeping beneath various other locations including Craig y Dinas in Snowdonia, Sewingshields Castle in Northumberland and Alderley Edge in Cheshire.

A second legend is also attached to Richmond Castle, which claims that some decades after Potter Thompson’s adventure, a troop of soldiers garrisoned at the castle sent a drummer boy into a tunnel they found in the cellars, which supposedly led to Easby Abbey and was believed to contain treasure. He was to drum as he proceeded and the soldiers would trace his route on the surface by listening for the sound. They followed his progress for about a mile or so before the drum suddenly stopped. The soldiers assumed the roof of the passage had caved in on the boy and placed a stone on the surface to mark the point where he fell. It is said that at midnight on certain nights, a ghostly drum beat can be heard in the vicinity of this stone.

Freeborough Hill, resting place of the legendary King Arthur? (Kai Roberts)

Whilst legendary treasure is often represented as unobtainable by virtue of its supernatural guardians, in some narratives there are also certain rituals which must be performed to obtain the hoard successfully, and which are invariably either impossible to complete or botched at the last minute. At Beauchief Abbey near Sheffield, treasure supposedly lies in a secret tunnel running to Norton Church. This chest is not only guarded by a cock which starts to crow as soon as anybody goes near, but as S.O. Addy notes: ‘The box can only be fetched away by a white horse, who must have its feet shod the wrong way round and who must approach the box with his tail foremost. The box must be tied to the horses head and not fastened behind.’

At Middleham in Wensleydale, there are two mounds south of the castle known as Williams Hills – almost certainly the remains of a Norman motte-and-bailey. No detail is given of the nature of the treasure buried here, only that, ‘Whoever shall run nine times round without stopping shall find a door open in the mound, which will admit him to marvellous treasures.’ Circling nine times is a common stipulation to invoke spirits or gain access to the Otherworld – one writer characterises the practice as ‘unscrewing the barrier between these dual existences’ – and the association with old mounds here suggests that this was imagined as a fairy treasure.

Not far from Middleham, on the shapely hill of Addleborough, there is a prehistoric burial cairn, known as Stone Raise, beneath which a treasure is supposed to lie. Legend records that it was accidentally dropped here by a weary giant as he attempted to transport it from Skipton Castle to Pendragon Castle in the Vale of Eden. When it hit the ground, the casket sank into the earth and stones rose over it. Anybody seeking to recover the chest will encounter ‘a fairy in the form of a hen or an ape’, but they must proceed in absolute silence. If this condition is broken, the fairy will vanish along with the treasure.

Even if silence was not demanded, then in some narratives certain taboos such as cursing would undoubtedly cause a treasure-hunting enterprise to fail. The renowned fairy hill of Willy Howe, in East Yorkshire, was also supposed to contain treasure, beyond the silver cup stolen from the Still Folk by the passing farmer in William of Newburgh’s tale. William Hone’s
Table Book
records that a farmer once dug the Howe to uncover a large chest of gold, which he then attempted to dislodge using ‘a train of horses, extending upwards of a quarter of a mile, attached to it by strong iron traces.’ Just as it was nearly out, the farmer exclaimed, ‘Hop Perry, prow Mark! Whether God’s will or not, we’ll have this ark!’ This thoughtless blasphemy caused all the iron traces to snap and the chest to sink deeper into the hill, leaving it beyond the farmer’s reach for evermore.

Often in these legends there is the implication that mere greed debars a person from happily obtaining the treasure, but that it will be delivered to those who are truly in need. Another tale recounts how an old woman of Sexhow appeared to a neighbouring farmer after her death, and instructed the man to dig beneath a certain tree in his orchard to uncover a buried hoard. The apparition told him that he could have the silver for himself, but he should turn the gold over to her niece who was very poor. The farmer did as he had been bidden, and sure enough found the treasure; but rather than provide for the old woman’s niece, he elected to keep it all for himself.

As William Henderson writes, ‘From that day, however, he never knew rest or happiness … Every night, at home or abroad, Nanny’s ghost failed not to dog his steps and reproach him with his faithlessness.’ The end came one evening when his neighbours witnessed the farmer returning from Stokesley market, his horse galloping so furiously that it never stopped for the gate, but bounded straight over it. As he passed, the farmer was heard to cry, ‘I will, I will, I will!’ and keen observers claimed that an old lady in a black dress and straw hat sat behind him on the horse. However, when the beast finally came to a halt, only one figure was found still on its back – the corpse of the avaricious farmer.

Ghosts were not the only nocturnal visitants to reveal the location of buried treasure; dreams often disclosed such secrets. A tumulus known as Picts’ or Money Hill, near Pickhill in North Yorkshire, had long been rumoured to contain a great fortune. One of Mother Shipton’s prophecies had foretold that the village would never thrive until a local family became extinct and Picts’ Hill was cut open. Meanwhile, in the early nineteenth century, a villager had dreamt that beneath the hill stood an archway beneath which there was a black chest, secured with three locks (like that at Dob Park), containing the fabled hoard.

In 1850, the local family did indeed reach extinction as specified in the prophecy and the following year, the Leeds and Thirsk Railway Company were constructing a track in the Pickhill region. Although it was not a necessary part of the building work, the directors were so intrigued by the tale of the treasure that they resolved to open Picts’ Hill, and even enlisted the now very old dreamer to show them where to dig. Sadly, nothing was found other than a few cremation urns and an iron band, which may once have crested a helmet. However, the whole episode is a fine illustration of how seriously even educated men treated such legends up until the nineteenth century.