St Cuthbert’s Cave

St Cuthbert’s Cave or Cuddie’s Cave in Northumberland is a natural rocky overhang rather than a true cave.

St Cuthbert was a Christian monk who spent years living on the island of Lindisfarne or Holy Island, off the Northumberland coast near Berwick-on-Tweed. His remains were kept there until AD875, when marauding Danes attacked the island. The monks carried the precious relics to Durham, resting for a night at this cave, thus giving it its name.

Other local traditions link the cave to a Border Reiver or robber, who camped in the cave and whose ghost haunts the area. Also associated with the area is a mischievous being called the Dunnie, who amongst other things would overturn furniture in the night and shapeshift as a horse, to the chagrin of the ploughman who mistakenly harnessed him.

The long walk to this place today, through empty woodland and fields, certainly has a slightly sinister feel to it. It’s easy to see how those traditions developed.

View from St Curhbert’s Cave.

Wayland’s Smithy

                               

This intriguingly named long barrow in Berkshire was built by some of the earliest Neolithic farmers. The many long barrows in this part of Britain were one of many new concepts introduced by the people who brought agriculture to this land.

It is one of the Cotswold-Severn class of barrows, commonly found in southwest Britain, and is sited on the ancient trackway called The Ridgeway, close to the Uffington White Horse. Its present appearance is a result of restoration in the 1960s. Before then, it was an overgrown ruin.

A timber-chambered barrow was built around 3550BC, and the remains of fifteen individuals were placed inside, fourteen of them male. Around a hundred years later, the mound was incorporated into a larger structure. A stone-chambered tomb, consisting three burial chambers and an entrance chamber in a cruciform layout, was built. The remains of eight people were found inside. Six huge sarsen stones were erected in front of it, four of which survive, and an earthen barrow, 56m in length and 13m wide at its entrance, was built over it. The stone revets used to support the mound are visible; they were originally covered with earth.

The interior chambers.

No long-lasting constructions have been found in Britain prior to the appearance of these tombs, and it is a long time before the same amount of effort was made to house the living.

Agriculture bound people to an area. It was a long-term investment, requiring the clearance of rocks and mature trees to give cultivatable soil, and needed a close understanding of how best to cultivate and manage that specific tract of land, which could take a lifetime to learn. It was perhaps now important to have the ancestors close at hand.

The long barrows are not overly prominent; they are not intended to be a statement to the living as later Bronze Age barrows, standing clear on the skyline, appear to be. To me they seem to be about blending with the land, incorporating the gifts and knowledge of people’s forebears so they could aid the coming generations, as well as reinforcing the fact that, for these people, this land was home.

The folklore of the site is no less intriguing. Wayland, also known as Völundr, is an important figure in Germanic culture, and the name was probably applied by Anglo-Saxon settlers. The first recorded use of the name dates to 955AD. Wayland was a fabled smith of unmatched skill, and like many smiths, such as the Greek Hephaestus, he was lame. In an Icelandic saga, he was captured by a king who cut his hamstrings and forced him to work for him. He eventually killed the king’s sons, forged himself wings, and made his escape.

Local tradition stated that if a traveller’s horse lost a shoe, he could leave it at the Smithy with some coins, and when he returned the money would be gone and the horse newly-shod. Wayland was also said to shoe the nearby Uffington White Horse.

A local shepherd’s rhyme recorded in 1859 states that:

They say in this cave did dwell,

A smith who was invisible.

At last he was found out, they say,

He blew up the place and flew away.

An intriguing similarity to the Icelandic story recorded 600 years earlier.

The Hunter's Moon

The full moon of October is often called the Hunter's Moon. Like the Harvest Moon of September, it rises unusually close to sunset so offers much-needed light for those out hunting.
But there is more to it than that. October is the traditional start of the hunting season. Many hunting cultures had, and have, a taboo against hunting during the breeding season, the pregnant and nursing females being vital for the future of both hunted and hunter. But come autumn, when the young are weaned and food sources dwindle, removing those unlikely to survive the winter hardships is of benefit to both parties. Meat was a vital food source in the winter months, whereas in summer it rots or becomes infested with maggots within a day or so, perhaps an illustration of the fallacy of upsetting the natural harmony of the hunt. And the shared bond of hunting and feasting helps gel a community through the winter hardships.
Happy Hunter's Moon everyone!

The Harvest Moon

The full moon closest to the autumn equinox is known as the Harvest Moon. Due to the tilt of the earth's axis, it rises an hour earlier than normal, giving on clear nights a near unbroken period of light. For those rural people working desperately into the night to bring the harvest home, this extra light was a godsend. The moon also often has a rich golden colour, reminiscent of ripened corn.

A relic of how important harvest was, and still is, to our survival, this is often the one full moon that nearly everybody knows. 

Lughnasash

The first of August is the Celtic festival of Lughnasadh, now anglicised to Lammas. Falling midway between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox, it marks the traditional start of the harvest season, when plants are gathered, seeds are set and the future for the coming year is assured.
It is linked the the god Lugh, the Celtic version of the dying and rising god or god of the green, who dies in autumn in order to be reborn the following spring.

The celebrations ensure an auspicious start to the harvest and also a last chance of fun before the slog to bring the harvest home begins. Traditionally, mummers plays  were performed, performances handed down orally for generations and varying from place to place. Some have hints of Celtic traditions, suggesting the antiquity of the plays.
And now harvest begins. Next stop, the Harvest Home.

The Mother's Moon

The full moon of May is often known as the Flower Moon or Mother's Moon. It is the month where the Earth flourishes. Plants, animals and insects all come into their prime as summer approaches, and the Earth changes from her Maiden form to her Mother form.
The beginning of May is marked by the festival of Beltane or May Day, which celebrates the great marriage between the Earth and her lover to allow this life to flourish.
A lot of plants come into flower this month, hence the moon's other common name. This is explained by another county saying:
April showers bring forth May flowers.

Beating the Bounds

Rogation Sunday, around 25th April, is a little marked date today. It stems from the Latin rogare, meaning 'to move' or 'to ask for.' It involved circulating the parish bounds and asking for a bountiful year. Crosses were carried, along with green boughs to symbolise fertility, and prayers were said at various points, often under an oak tree. Place names with the element Gospel Oak indicate such sites. Crosses were placed at parish corners to physically and spiritually mark the bounds. 
Rogation Day was introduced in the 8th century and was a Christian adaptation of the Roman robigalia, a procession through the cornfields to pray for their preservation. The bounds were beaten to symbolically drive out the devil, presumably into the neighbouring parish.  
It was marked into medieval times and then suppressed for its pagan connotations, but the beating of the bounds ceremony survived into the 19th century. This was a more prosaic adaptation to ensure no boundary stones had been moved or unauthorised buildings erected. The bounds were still beaten, as were boys at strategic points, apparently to ensure they would remember their parish boundaries in years to come.