Here be Dragons - by Lu Hersey

No county has more dragon myths associated with it than Somerset (where I live), and I've recently been making a study of local folkore on the subject. In case you're interested, here are some useful bits of dragonlore I've come across so far.

I previously thought it was always the same story: dragon takes up residence somewhere, is very annoying to locals as it eats its way through surrounding livestock and people, until a brave dragon slayer goes forth and slays the beast. Order restored.

Turns out, it's not that simple. For a start, when is a dragon not a dragon but a wyrm, or a wyvern? Here's a brief explanation, in case you need one...

Dragons

The dragon, or firedrake, is the best known, and the one fiction writers are most fond of. This beast is a gigantic reptilian creature with four legs, big, bat-like wings, and a covering of armoured scales. Usually sporting horns or a crest, it has massive, pointed, sharp teeth to chomp you with, and huge claws to swipe at you. It can lay waste to vast areas of land and kill any number of people and animals - and that's the problem.  Worst of all, it breathes out enough fire to cook the unfortunate hero sent to slay it - though luckily (for the hero, not the dragon) there'll always be the one vulnerable spot that a trusty spear can penetrate, kill the poor beast and save the day. These creatures also sometimes have magical powers of invisibility and self healing, just to give the hero a bit more to contend with. Sometimes they guard treasure, which helps make them worthy targets.

Wyrms

Unlike dragons, wyrms don't have legs. They're more like massive snakes with bodies as thick as oak trunks. They don't breathe fire, preferring to spit venom - and their diet of choice is (weirdly) milk (either cow or human), livestock, and of course, people. 

One version of the legend of the Gurt Wyrm of Shervage Wood specifies it eating two gypsies and a shepherd. (Such detail adds a certain something to the story...) If chopped in pieces, the wyrm can reform, which makes it difficult to kill. Fortunately, when the Gurt Wyrm was chopped in half by a woodsman, the two halves went off in different directions, saving the woodsman from being eaten - and leading to the creature's sad demise.

Wyverns

Wyverns are like dragons, but with two legs instead of four - and are, apparently, a bit smaller. They also have a sting in their tail like a scorpion. Most wyverns can fly. They were thought to carry diseases, and were blamed for outbreaks of the plague as well as other illnesses, both of people and livestock. I've found it very hard to pin down a specific case of a wyvern, but they feature widely in heraldry and church carvings.

Basilisks

Specific cases of basilisks are even harder to track down. Legend has it that basilisks are born when cockerels lay eggs (which is probably why it's hard to find examples). They are only a few feet long, and unlike others in the dragon family, kill by stare alone. The only creature immune from the stare of the basilisk is a weasel.

Not all our dragon legends fit into one of the above categories, but most do. Some guard treasure, some don't. Some seem to symbolise the church's battle against paganism, and others are connected to features in the landscape. Dragons appeared over an extensive period of time, though a few in Somerset seem to date back specifically to the time of King Alfred - possibly with a link to his battles against the Danish Vikings, who arrived in boats with huge dragons carved on the prow. As in all myth, there are usually elements of truth bound up in the stories.

Or perhaps dragons actually exist in some parallel reality, appearing for a time and disappearing? Some reported dragon sightings are surprisingly recent. A French farmer encountered what appeared to be a dragon attacking one of his cows in a field one night in 1978. An Icelandic man saw one emerging from the volcano Eyjafjallajokull in 2010, and a dragon appeared to several witnesses in Wisconsin in 2007.

Perhaps strangest of all, a group of ten Surrey ghost hunters witnessed the appearance of at least two dragons at Waverley Abbey in December 2023. It might sound unlikely, but the witnesses swear the strange creatures appeared really close to them, and they found the experience far more terrifying than any ghostly encounter. So if you desperately want to see a dragon, perhaps be careful what you wish for...

Lu Hersey

Website: Lu Hersey

Patreon: Writing the Magic

Magic in the landscape - by Lu Hersey

Sometimes, places loom like beacons on the horizon, compelling you to pause on your journey, overcome with the need to explore. Parts of the landscape so powerful, they make your heart sing.

Glastonbury Tor, Silbury Hill, Castlerigg stone circle -  just a few of the places that have surprised me, over the years, with their immediate impact. A feeling that's inexplicable, a bit like coming home after too long away. A nostalgic yearning, even though you haven't been there before.

Last week, I found another.

Burrow Mump is a small but dramatic mound that springs up from the Somerset Levels like magic -a bit like Glastonbury Tor, downsized, with the ruin of a church on the top.

Forcing my friend to stop the car as soon as I saw it (she didn't object too much, even though we had an appointment in Wellington), I bounded (OK, puffed) up through the scatter of trees to the top in a matter of minutes. There was no one else there. The view was stunning.

It's a place I'd love to go back to when there are no time constraints, perhaps to watch the sun rise up from the mists, or the starlings swirling overhead in weak winter sunlight.

Because Burrow Mump seemed to be just that kind of magical place. Once an island of higher ground in a flooded (now drained) landscape, you sense its strategic importance in the past. A quick google search tells you about Roman pottery finds, a motte and bailey castle, and the connection with King Alfred - which apparently is myth, and can't be proved. But as Joseph Campbell said, “Myth is much more important and true than history. History is just journalism and you know how reliable that is.” 

Alfred was there, I feel sure of it. This area was Alfred's territory. The years he spent hiding in the marshes from the Danes, Burrow Mump would make the perfect viewing platform, where he could watch out for any approaching danger from the wetlands below. A place to sit and think. I could almost smell his burning cakes. 

Spend a few moments on the summit and you get a strong sense of this living landscape, stretching back in time. It's inspirational, a place to set stories, create art.

Or that doesn't grab you, maybe just sit awhile, and simply admire the view.

Lu Hersey

 (This post - with some modifications - is taken from my patreon site, Writing the Magic)