FOLK LORE.

Sites of Buildings mysteriously changed.

—It may be amusing to the readers of "N. & Q.," and attended with some useful result, to record a few popular traditions respecting the mysterious opposition to the building of certain edifices on the spots originally designed for them by their founders. I will introduce the subject with the local traditions about the building of three churches well known to myself.

1. The church of Breedon, in Leicestershire, stands alone on a high hill, the village being at its foot. The hill is so steep on the side towards the village, that a carriage can only ascend by taking a very circuitous course; and even the footpath winds considerably, and in some parts ascends by steps formed in the turf. The inconvenience of such a situation for the church is obvious, and the stranger, of course, wonders at the folly of those who selected a site for a church which would necessarily preclude the aged and infirm from attending public worship. But the initiated parishioner soon steps forward to enlighten him on the subject, and assures him the pious founder consulted the convenience of the village, and assigned a central spot for the site of the church. There the foundation was dug, and there the builders began to rear the fabric; but all they built in the course of the day was carried away by doves in the night, and skilfully built in the same manner on the hill where the church now stands. Both founder and workmen, awed by this extraordinary interference, agreed to finish the edifice thus begun by doves.

2. The parish church of Wendover, in Buckinghamshire, stands nearly half a mile from the town. The church was to have been placed on a field adjoining the town, and there the building of it was begun; but the materials were all carried away in the night by witches, or, as some relate the tradition, by fairies, and deposited where the church now stands. The field in which the church was to have been built is still called "Witches' Meadow."

3. The parish church of Winwick, Lancashire, stands near that miracle-working spot where St. Oswald, king of the Northumbrians, was killed. The founder had destined a different site for it, but his intention was overruled by a singular personage, whose will he never dreamed of consulting. It must here be noticed that Winwick had then not even received its name; the church, as not uncommon in those days, being one of the earliest erections in the parish. The foundation of the church, then, was laid where the founder had directed, and the close of the first day's labour showed the workmen had not been idle, by the progress made in the building. But the approach of night brought to pass an event which utterly destroyed the repose of the few inhabitants around the spot. A pig was seen running hastily to the site of the new church; and as he ran he was heard to cry or scream aloud "We-ee-wick, We-ee-wick, We-ee-wick!" Then, taking up a stone in his mouth, he carried it to the spot sanctified by the death of St. Oswald, and thus employing himself through the whole night, succeeded in removing all the stones which had been laid by the builders. The founder, feeling himself justly reproved for not having chosen that sacred spot for the site of his church, unhesitatingly yielded to the wise counsel of the pig. Thus the pig not only decided the site of the church, but gave a name to the parish.

In support of this tradition, there is the figure of a pig sculptured on the tower of the church, just above the western entrance; and also the following Latin doggerel:

"Hic locus, Oswalde, quondam placuit tibi valde;

Northanhumbrorum fueras Rex, nuncque Polorum

Regna tenes, loco passus Marcelde vocato."

May not the phrase "Please the pigs" have originated in the above tradition, since the founder of Winwick Church was obliged to succumb to the pleasure of his porkish majesty?

Instances of equally marvellous changes in the sites of buildings are recorded in Bede, and other monkish writers. Perhaps it would not be difficult to unravel the mystery of such changes.

W. H. K.

Burning the Bush.

—While in Herefordshire last spring, I noticed a singular custom in the agricultural districts. When the wheat is just springing out of the ground, the farmer's servants rise before daybreak, and cut a branch of thorn of a particular kind. They then make a large fire in the field, in which they burn a portion of it; the remaining part is afterwards hung up in the house. They do this to prevent the smut, or mildew, affecting the wheat.

J. B. ROBINSON.

Belper.

Essex Superstition.

—An uncle of mine, who has a large farm near Ilford, tells me, that observing a horse-shoe nailed to the door of one of his cow-houses, he asked the cow-keeper why he had fixed it there. The lad gravely replied, "Why, to keep the wild-horse away, to be sure." This is, to me, a new reason for the practice.

I have learned that the superstition about the bees deserting their hives on the death of one of their owner's family, is common in the same county. A lady tells me, that calling upon some poor people who lived at Hyde Green, near Ingatestone, she inquired after the bees. The old woman of the house replied, "They have all gone away since the death of poor Dick; for we forgot to knock at the hives, and tell them he was gone dead."

C. MANSFIELD INGLEBY.