The Evolution of an English Town

by Gordon Home

"The White Cow of Wardle Rigg" is a good example of an old time legend, that owing to a natural process of alteration became gradually fitted to the beliefs and superstitions of each age in which it was told. How the story came to be localised is not known, but in its last phase it had reached this form.

Once an old couple lived near to Wardle Rigg, and bad seasons and other misfortunes had brought the wolf very near to their door. One night there passed by the humble cottage a little old lady driving along a thin and hungry looking white cow, she craved a crust and a drink of water for herself and shelter for the poor beast, this was readily granted by the old couple, they gave the old lady the easy-chair by the fire, and gave her of the best from their poor larder. She learnt from them how poor they were, and sorrowed with them.

In the middle of the night she called to them, as she stole silently out of the house, that for their kindness she left them all the worldly possessions she had, namely her white cow. This they were in no wise grateful for, because they could scarcely afford to feed it and it was too poor to sell or to hope to draw a drop of milk from.

But in the morning what was their surprise to find not a poor three parts starved cow, but a plump well fed animal, and with a bag full of milk, it indeed gave more milk than any cow they had ever known or heard of, their hay had also during the night grown to be quite a huge stack.

It was soon found that their butter was the best in all the dales, and was sought after far and wide, so that the old people were gradually filling their stocking with money. Added to this it was presently discovered that all who drank of the white cow's milk were cured, almost instantly, of a dreadful plague, which in the dales at that time was sending many young folk to an early grave. The fame of this wonderful cow soon spread. The old couple had given the milk to all those who fell ill of the plague, and people came to them from far off places.

It was then that their landlord determined by wicked arts to gain possession of this wonderful white cow, and sell the milk at a great price. His own child, his youngest daughter, falling ill of the plague determined him to carry out his evil design, and it was with sorrow and tears that the old folk watched their landlord lead their cow away.

When half way over the moor he was met by an old dame, "Where drivest thou my cow?" she demanded. Getting but a surly reply, and a threat to drive over her, she cried, "Let me teach thee how to milk my cow." So saying she seized hold of the cow's udder, crying out, "There's death in thee, there's death in thee," and then ran away. The landlord on reaching home was taking a cupful of the magic milk to his daughter, but setting it down for a moment a cat unseen commenced to lap from the cup and died instantly. The landlord then saw that in his greed he had outwitted himself. The good dame was brought to milk it under a promise of restoration, and all ended well.

The other story is known as "The Legend of Elphi." Elphi the Farndale dwarf was doubtless at one time the central figure of many a fireside story and Elphi's mother was almost equally famous. The most tragic story in which they both play their leading parts is that of Golpha the bad Baron of Lastingham and his wicked wife. The mother helped in hiding some one Golpha wished to torture. In his rage he seized the mother, and sentenced her to be burnt upon the moor above Lastingham.

Elphi to save his mother, called to his aid thousands of dragon-flies, and bade them carry the news far and wide, and tell the fierce adders, the ants, the hornets, the wasps and the weasels, to hurry early next day to the scene of his mother's execution and rescue her. Next morning when the wicked Golpha, his wife, and their friends gathered about the stake and taunted the old dame, they were set upon and killed, suffering great agonies. But Elphi and his mother were also credited with all the power of those gifted with a full knowledge of white magic, and their lives seem to have been spent in succouring the weak. Mr Blakeborough tells me that the remembrance of these two is now practically forgotten, for after most careful enquiry during the last two years throughout the greater part of Farndale, only one individual has been met with who remembered hearing of this once widely known dwarf.

The hob-men who were to be found in various spots in Yorkshire were fairly numerous around Pickering. There seem to have been two types, the kindly ones, such as the hob of Hob Hole in Runswick Bay who used to cure children of whooping-cough, and also the malicious ones. Calvert gives a long list of hobs but does not give any idea of their disposition.