giant’s size. The giant threw his basket to the ground and set to it. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, but Lludd overcame his enemy and cast him down. The giant pleaded for his life. Lludd made him vow to make good his losses. The giant not only agreed to this, but also to be his loyal champion from then on.
And so Lludd had succeeded, with the help of his brother, to rid the land of the Three Plagues, and he ruled his kingdom in peace and prosperity for the length of his life. His name lives on – for he founded the city of Caer Lludd, which we know today as London.
And that’s a fact!
Although this tale (Lludd and Llevelys) originates in The Mabinogion – the classic collection of Welsh legends compiled by Lady Charlotte Guest from earlier sources – the prominence of Oxford within it was too important to miss. The ‘city of dreaming spires’ is often cited as being the centre of England; although my old home town of Northampton would dispute that claim. However, we are happy for Oxford to keep its pit of drunken dragons! A dramatic, brooding hill covered in tangled trees and mossy boulders, Dinas Emrys does seem like the ideal place to bury such beasts and this dovetails into the story of Merlin and Vortigern’s tower. The remnants of a structure dating from the sixth century was found upon it, although to date no dragons of any hue have been found there; yet its name preserves its legendary associations: Emrys is a variant of one of Merlin’s many epithets – Merlin Ambrosius. Ambrosia was meant to be the food of the gods – and mead comes pretty close (although too much and one can feel like a pig in a coffer!).
Nine
T HE S CHOLAR AND THE B OAR
On the 26th of December, St Stephen’s Day, a strange and ancient custom is held in the hallowed halls of Queen’s College, Oxford – the Boar’s Head Feast. A stuffed wild boar, orange in its mouth, is brought in with great pomp and ceremony by three chefs followed by a solo singer, accompanied by torch-bearers and a choir. The soloist sings the Boar’s Head Carol, dating back to the fifteenth century.
While the verses are sung, the procession stand still; when the chorus is sung they move forward. Finally, the boar is presented on the high table to the Masters of the college. The Provost distributes herbs to the chorus and the orange goes to the soloist. Then the feast begins in earnest! This custom, dating back to the thirteenth century, is held to commemorate a famous anecdote in the history of the college.
A scholar was out walking in Shotover Forest, to the north of Oxford in the region known as Otmoor – a marshland notorious for rum doings. He was deep in philosophical reverie, considering a tome by Aristotle, when he was suddenly assailed by a ferocious wild boar which charged him from the undergrowth, tusks flashing, shrill squeal splitting the air. Thinking on his feet, the scholar thrust the tome in his hands into the boar’s mouth, stopping it dead in its tracks, crying out: ‘Glaecum est! ’ (with compliments of the Greeks). The boar was overcome by this quick-thinking scholar and thus the savage was conquered by the sage.
And so, to commemorate this wild hog story, the Boar’s Head Feast is held every St Stephen’s Day.
Yet, its origins might date back even further, for in Norse tradition a sacrifice was made at midwinter to Freyr to ask for favour for the coming year. Freyr is known as Ingwi in Saxon, and associated with the rune Ingwaz, the rune of new beginnings, new opportunities and new life; and of peace and harmony – it seemed Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men was something even the Vikings valued at this time of year. In old Swedish art, St Stephen, whose feast day is, as we know, the 26th of December, is depicted tending horses and offering a boar at a Yuletide feast. In Sweden to this day, a fine leg of Christmas ham is a traditional addition to the family feast.
And so, there is a possibility that an ancient
And so Lludd had succeeded, with the help of his brother, to rid the land of the Three Plagues, and he ruled his kingdom in peace and prosperity for the length of his life. His name lives on – for he founded the city of Caer Lludd, which we know today as London.
And that’s a fact!
Although this tale (Lludd and Llevelys) originates in The Mabinogion – the classic collection of Welsh legends compiled by Lady Charlotte Guest from earlier sources – the prominence of Oxford within it was too important to miss. The ‘city of dreaming spires’ is often cited as being the centre of England; although my old home town of Northampton would dispute that claim. However, we are happy for Oxford to keep its pit of drunken dragons! A dramatic, brooding hill covered in tangled trees and mossy boulders, Dinas Emrys does seem like the ideal place to bury such beasts and this dovetails into the story of Merlin and Vortigern’s tower. The remnants of a structure dating from the sixth century was found upon it, although to date no dragons of any hue have been found there; yet its name preserves its legendary associations: Emrys is a variant of one of Merlin’s many epithets – Merlin Ambrosius. Ambrosia was meant to be the food of the gods – and mead comes pretty close (although too much and one can feel like a pig in a coffer!).
Nine
T HE S CHOLAR AND THE B OAR
On the 26th of December, St Stephen’s Day, a strange and ancient custom is held in the hallowed halls of Queen’s College, Oxford – the Boar’s Head Feast. A stuffed wild boar, orange in its mouth, is brought in with great pomp and ceremony by three chefs followed by a solo singer, accompanied by torch-bearers and a choir. The soloist sings the Boar’s Head Carol, dating back to the fifteenth century.
While the verses are sung, the procession stand still; when the chorus is sung they move forward. Finally, the boar is presented on the high table to the Masters of the college. The Provost distributes herbs to the chorus and the orange goes to the soloist. Then the feast begins in earnest! This custom, dating back to the thirteenth century, is held to commemorate a famous anecdote in the history of the college.
A scholar was out walking in Shotover Forest, to the north of Oxford in the region known as Otmoor – a marshland notorious for rum doings. He was deep in philosophical reverie, considering a tome by Aristotle, when he was suddenly assailed by a ferocious wild boar which charged him from the undergrowth, tusks flashing, shrill squeal splitting the air. Thinking on his feet, the scholar thrust the tome in his hands into the boar’s mouth, stopping it dead in its tracks, crying out: ‘Glaecum est! ’ (with compliments of the Greeks). The boar was overcome by this quick-thinking scholar and thus the savage was conquered by the sage.
And so, to commemorate this wild hog story, the Boar’s Head Feast is held every St Stephen’s Day.
Yet, its origins might date back even further, for in Norse tradition a sacrifice was made at midwinter to Freyr to ask for favour for the coming year. Freyr is known as Ingwi in Saxon, and associated with the rune Ingwaz, the rune of new beginnings, new opportunities and new life; and of peace and harmony – it seemed Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men was something even the Vikings valued at this time of year. In old Swedish art, St Stephen, whose feast day is, as we know, the 26th of December, is depicted tending horses and offering a boar at a Yuletide feast. In Sweden to this day, a fine leg of Christmas ham is a traditional addition to the family feast.
And so, there is a possibility that an ancient
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