Countryman's Diary: Grace of a saint who humbled a king

Although very little is known about Giles, it does seem that he became one of England's most popular saints in the Middle Ages, and it is said that every English county had a church dedicated to him, with the exception of Cumberland and Westmorland. There were others in Scotland and Wales.

Giles may be another name for St Aegidius, the abbot of Languedoc in France, who was sent to Rome by his bishop in AD 514 to discuss with Pope Symmachus the readjustment of the provinces in southern Gaul.

Other research suggests Giles was born in Greece, of royal blood, and grew up in a very pious Christian household where he was given a classical education. For all that, he became a priest/hermit and is said to have rejected all earthly pleasures.

There is a legend about him too. As a hermit, he befriended a deer and when the king was hunting in the forest, he loosed an arrow towards a deer in the undergrowth. When he went for the animal, he found it alive having been protected by St Giles - and the arrow was embedded in the saint. My references do not say whether Giles died as a consequence, but the king was so mortified that he built a monastery dedicated to Giles, and this became a popular place of pilgrimage.

The date of Giles' death is not known but today it is said that if the weather is fair on the feast of St Giles, it will remain so throughout the coming month.

Havens for villains

My wife and I took a short excursion to Sharow near Ripon, in the hope of finding the historic Sharow Cross. We found it - or to be more precise, we found its meagre remains - on the roadside verge at the junction of Dishforth Road and Sharow Lane, on the edge of the village.

Today, there is only a short stump set in a large stone block and it can be identified by a notice which announces its identity, along with a brief history, and the fact that the cross is now owned by the National Trust.

The cross probably dates from the 13th century when it was one of eight similar crosses positioned around Ripon, all within one mile of the monastery of St Wilfred - now Ripon Cathedral. Those crosses marked the limits in which sanctuary could be sought by fleeing felons. In medieval times, a criminal on the run could claim protection from the authorities if he reached certain places of sanctuary. These were usually major churches such as those at Ripon, Durham, Beverley and York and in some cases, the criminal had to reach a sanctuary chair near the altar, and actually sit on it, and in other cases, like Durham, he had use the sanctuary knocker on the door.

On occasions, sanctuary could be claimed by reaching the churchyard, and in yet further instances, all the criminal had to achieve was to get within one mile of the church which offered sanctuary - and that mile was marked by crosses like one at Sharow.

Gaining sanctuary was a means of saving one's life in such emergencies and although there were some complicated rules and procedures, the general idea was that once a criminal had reached sanctuary, his life was spared, or he might be spared corporal punishment, but he remained a prisoner within the boundaries of the place of sanctuary until he had received the royal pardon.

The alternative was to "abjure the realm," this was a solemn undertaking to leave the country for ever and to forfeit all properties remaining in this country. A felon who had committed murder or any other serious crime, and who then abjured the realm, was branded with the letter A on his thumb, a means of identifying him as he made his way to a port to find a ship which would carry him into his self-imposed exile. In the way of life in the Middle Ages, however, the fact that a criminal gained sanctuary was no guarantee he would be safe.

There were stories of the local citizens taking exception to some notorious sanctuary seekers and dishing out their own justice. One such story concerns a man and wife, jointly accused of witchcraft, who gained sanctuary in their local church vestry in 1757, even though the system had been official abolished in 1623. With the fear of witches at its height, the couple were discovered by a band of vigilantes who dragged them out of the church and hauled them to the local pond for a piece of summary justice. Both were drowned.

In addition to churches, however, sanctuary could also be sought within a royal palace or its precincts, or within an ambassador's residence and later within the Houses of Parliament. I think the latter survived until the 19th century!

Curious powers

A letter from a reader at Marton near Middlesbrough tells how the elder tree was thought to prevent the milk turning sour in its churns. At the farm where he worked, he recalls an elder growing near the milk stand where the churns were placed for collection at the roadside and another elder grew against the dairy window. In the case of the milk stand, the elder tree did provide shade for the churns as they stood in the sunshine.

Belief in the curious powers of the elder tree has survived down the centuries and its reputed ability to prevent millk from turning sour is a good example.

Country folk of the past used to believe in the evil eye; this was a type of spell cast by witches and it could cause the cattle to become sick, the hens to stop laying eggs, milk to turn sour or not to turn into cheese, and a host of other minor nuisances. In all such cases, in the absence of any logical or visible explanation, witches were blamed. However, help was at hand! It was believed that an elder tree growing close to the house, or near the farm buildings, would provide protection against the activities of witches.

It would also protect the buildings against lightning strikes and so the presence of elders near houses and farm buildings was always encouraged. On the other hand, it was thought unlucky to take twigs of elder into the house as this would encourage bad fortune.

Some believed that the cross upon which Christ was crucified was made from the wood of the elder, hence its reputation of ill fortune. Although we have stopped believing in the evil eye cast by rural witches, the notion that the presence of an elder tree can protect milk has survived until fairly recently. And I did discover that some gardeners also had a similar belief. They would take a bunch of elder twigs and use them to thrash turnips, cabbages and trees, firmly of the opinion that this would prevent blight.

One of the best known uses of elder twigs is to keep away flies - although many of us might be tempted to use them to beat troublesome flies, I believe that flies are attracted to the elder due to its scent and so, if you carry a bunch, or tie it to the head of your horses, the flies will rush towards it rather than towards you!

Tin of treats

A reader from Hutton Rudby near Yarm has given me a lovely example of the use of the word felty which I featured recently. In my earlier notes, I said it was used to describe the game of hide-and-seek but in her case, she relates how her mother used to keep a tin full of sweets for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and of course, for other little visitors. She called it her felty tin. The youngsters were always invited to select a treat from the felty tin, but I wonder if, in its early life, that tin of sweets was kept hidden from their keen eyes and that they had to hunt for it in order to win themselves a reward? That kind of game could explain why it was called a felty tin.

My correspondent did add that the word was used by her grandmother who originated from Witton Park, in County Durham, so the word does not seem to be restricted to North Yorkshire.

Another reader, this time from Stokesley, has commented on the word marrow as it refers to some object which matches another. He says it means a matching pair, like a couple of identical horses or perhaps twin people - one would be marrow of the other.