daily contribution of nine cows’ milk, which was always placed for it at the green hill, and in default of which it devoured man and beast. Young Lambton had, it seems, meanwhile, totally repented him of his former life and conversation, had bathed himself in a bath of holy water, taken the sign of the cross, and joined the Crusaders.
“On his return home, he was extremely shocked at witnessing the effects of his youthful imprudences, and immediately undertook the adventure. After several fierce combats, in which the Crusader was foiled by his enemy’s power of self-union, he found it expedient to add policy to courage, and not, perhaps, possessing much of the former quality, he went to consult a witch or wise woman. By her judicious advice he armed himself in a coat-of-mail studded with razor blades; and, thus prepared, placed himself on the crag in the river, and awaited the monster’s arrival.
“At the usual time the worm came to the rock, and wound himself with great fury round the armed knight, who had the satisfaction to see his enemy cut in pieces by his own efforts, whilst the stream washing away the severed parts, prevented the possibility of reunion.
“There is still a sequel to the story: the witch had promised Lambton success only on one condition, that he should slay the first living thing which met his sight after the victory. To avoid the possibility of human slaughter, Lambton had directed his father, that as soon as he heard him sound three blasts on his bugle, in token of the achievement performed, he should release his favourite greyhound, which would immediately fly to the sound of the horn, and was destined to be the sacrifice. On hearing his son’s bugle, however, the old chief was so overjoyed, that he forgot his instructions,
and ran himself with open arms to meet his son. Instead of committing a parricide, the conqueror again repaired to his adviser, who pronounced, as the alternative of disobeying the original instructions, that no chief of the Lambtons should die in his bed for seven, (or as some accounts say) for nine generations—a commutation which, to a martial spirit, had nothing probably very terrible, and which was willingly complied with....
“In the garden-house at Lambton are two figures of no great antiquity. A Knight in good style, armed cap-a-pie, the back studded with razor blades, who holds the worm by one ear with his left hand, and with his right crams his sword to the hilt down his throat; and a Lady who wears a coronet, with bare breasts, &c., in the style of Charles 2nd’s Beauties, a wound on whose bosom and an accidental mutilation of the hand are said to have been the work of the worm.”
There were several other English “Wormes,” but this must suffice as a type. Also, as a typical Scotch “Worme,” the Linton Worme will serve. A writer (W. E.) tells its story so well in Notes and Queries, February 24, 1866, that I transfer it here, in preference to telling it myself. It was slain by Sir John Somerville, about the year 1174, who received the lands and barony of Linton, in Roxburghshire, as the reward of his exploit. W. E. quotes from a family history entitled a “Memorie of the Somervills,” written by James, the eleventh lord, A.D. 1679:—
“‘In the parochene of Lintoune, within the sheriffdome of Roxburghe, ther happened to breede ane hydeous monster, in the forme of a worme, soe called and esteemed by the country people (but in effecte has beene a serpente or some suche other creature), in length three
Scots yards, and somewhat bigger than ane ordinarie man’s leg, &c.... This creature, being a terrour to the country people, had its den in a hollow piece of ground, on the syde of a hill, south east from Lintoun Church, some more than a myle, which unto this day is knowne by the name of the Worme’s glen, where it used to rest and shelter itself; but, when it sought after prey, then would it wander a myle or two from its residence, and make prey of all sort of bestiall that came in its way, which it easily did because of its lownesse, creeping amongst the peat, heather, or grasse, wherein that place abounded much, by reasone of the meadow grounde, and a large flow moss, fit for the pasturage of many cattell.... Soe that the whole country men thereabout wer forced to remove ther bestiall and transport them 3 or 4 myles from the place, leaving the country desolate, neither durst any person goe to the Church, or mercat, upon that rod, for fear of this beast.’
“Somerville happening to come to Jedburgh, on the King’s business, found the inhabitants full of stories about the wonderful beast.