Mr Thomas Hickathrift (Lord of the Year)

William Palmer Robins, 'The Old Sun Inn, Saffron Walden', watercolour, 1941.

The legend of Tom Hickathrift was a central theme in Dave Hunt's quest for the many secrets and mysteries hidden within the ancient Essex landscape. For many years Dave tirelessly researched the towns and villages of north west Essex, and in this very early article, published originally in ASH magazine No. 1 Autumn 1988, he explains some of the legends surrounding the East Anglian folk hero Tom Hickathrift. This research eventually led Dave to rediscover the legendary Essex Landscape Zodiac. One day I hope that those folk who now hold this research will allow it to be published for all to read. So without further ado, here is Mr Thomas Hickathrift (Lord of the Year) by Dave Hunt.

Mr Thomas Hickathrift (Lord of the Year)

Part 1: The Legend
by Dave Hunt

In Castle St, Saffron Walden, stands what was once the old "Sun" Inn, now an antique shop. This splendid half-timbered building has on it some exquisite examples of pargetting, or plaster moulding, an art much practiced in the Essex of long ago.

Among the fascinating designs are portrayed the images of Tom Hickathrift, giant and giant killer, and his one time adversary, the Wisbech giant. The pargetting is probably 17th or 18th century, but the secret it contains is much older.


Tom, the stories say, was born at the time of William the Conqueror, the son of a Cambridgeshire labourer. By the age of ten, Tom was already six feet tall, and proved stupid at school. Tom's father tragically died, leaving his mother to support him. He lazed by the fireside while she worked hard, and when mealtimes came, he ate as much as five fully grown men.

A Wisbech farmer, taking pity on Tom's mother, offered her two bales of straw, on condition that someone collected them. After much pleading, she prevailed on Tom to fetch the bundles. And so he set off, taking only a length of rope to secure them.

The farmer offered Tom as much straw as he could carry, but was horrified when he laid the rope on the ground and piled on enough to fill a wagon! Then he tied it up, hoisted it onto his back as if it was a bag of corn, and carried it home.

To prevent (so he thought) a similar occurrence on Tom's next visit, the farmer hid two huge boulders amongst the straw, all to no avail. When Tom arrived for the second bundle, he carried it off as if it was as light as the first! The boulders fell out as Tom walked home, so he resolved to have words with the farmer about cleaning his straw properly.


News of Tom's exploits quickly spread around East Anglia and more and more people wanted him to work for them. One such was a brewer in Kings Lynn who wanted beer delivered to Wisbech, a round trip of some twenty miles. For each trip Tom would receive as much food and drink as he wanted, plus a new set of clothes. Tom discovered, after a few journeys, that he could halve the distance by cutting across the territory of a fierce giant in the locality. The giant however, did not take kindly to trespassers, and as soon as Tom set foot on the land, he (the giant) came roaring out of his cave, threatening to knock Tom's head off and hang it on a large tree, which was gruesomely festooned with the heads of previous interlopers.

At this, Ton, being naturally somewhat annoyed, challenged the giant to a fight to the death, and while the giant went into his cave to fetch a huge club, Tom removed a cartwheel to use as a shield, and the axle for a weapon.

The duel began and for a time they were evenly matched. Eventually the giant, being out of condition, began to flag, until. streaming with blood and sweat, he fell to his knees and begged for mercy. Tom's answer was to batter his head clean off his shoulders. In the Giant's cave, Tom found enough treasure to make him rich for the rest of his life.

This deed made Tom a hero throughout East Anglia, and, with other exploits, including driving away a fierce band of highwaymen and even fighting the devil in the church year at Walpole St Peters in Norfolk, he soon became a highly respected citizen, to the extent that people referred to him as Mr Thomas Hickathrift.

This is the most famous legend of Tom, but there is another, less-well-known, but more pertinent to this investigation. It goes thus.

The inhabitants of a certain district were being abused by a dictatorial Baron, who confiscated all their food and cattle, leaving them to starve. At a meeting of local leaders, it was decided to ask Mr Thomas Hickathrift for assistance.

Tom duly arrived on his cart, which carried an enormous club, by now Tom's favourite weapon. As with the Wisbech giant, Tom. after some argument, challenged the Baron to combat and defeated him at the gate of the castle, knocking his head from his shoulders. As a result, Tom was able to restore to the people their livelihood.

Contained in these two stories we find elements of, naturally, the triumph of good over evil, but also evidence that Tom was more than just a local hero. The cartwheel used as a shield, is a solar symbol, as in the Catherine Wheel. The axle represents the pivot around which the months turn and these two symbols alone, being used by Tom to defeat the Wisbech giant (as winter destroyed by the year cycle) and the wicked Baron (more obviously the Lord of winter and deprivation) suggests that he was in fact the Lord of the sun, bringing back prosperity to the land.

There are many other clues to be revealed in future episodes, but one deserves a mention now.

Between the two figures on the Sun Inn pargetting, there is depicted a large circle. Until comparatively recent times, this was divided into twelve segments, surely a representation of the months, or even the zodiac, being fought over by Tom, the summer Lord and the Wisbech giant, the dark bringer of winter.

In the next episode I shall reveal more pieces in the jigsaw that finally portrays Ogma Sunface, Celtic god of the sun, Lord of the Zodiac, bringer of knowledge and eloquence, and inventor of the Ogham alphabet.


Part 2 here

In Memorium - Dave Hunt

Dave Hunt
1941 - 2009
Friend and mentor across time and space.
A tribute by Alex Langstone.

It is with great sadness that I can report the death of ASH magazine founder Dave Hunt. Dave was a stalwart of the Earth Mysteries and Occult communities in the south-east and his encyclopedic knowledge of folklore and mythology was outstanding. He spent many years researching landscape mysteries and legends around Essex, a county he loved.

Dave was born in 1941 in Mevagissey, Cornwall and he always loved exploring the British landscape. Indeed in 1993, we spent time researching an alignment of ancient sites across south-west England, which was eventually written up as The Eucharist of Osiris, and published in The Lighthouse volume 2 number 1.

But it was in 1985 that I first met Dave. I was a keen and enthusiastic 20 year old, wet behind the ears, but fascinated by esoteric subjects and eager to learn. Dave took me under his wing, and over the months and years that followed I learned much. Dave had a great way of passing on knowledge, and I shall always remember with affection, the years we studied together, and the way Dave always encouraged and supported me. He was the key player in the publication of my book Bega and the Sacred Ring, and without his valuable support I doubt if it would ever have been published!

His esoteric legacy spreads far and wide. Dave worked alongside many within the esoteric community. He was a student of 20th century occultist extraordinaire William G. Gray and was an adept of the Craft of Cunning. Dave worked with Andrew Collins during the early Earthquest group, where he helped Andrew research the Running Well Mystery. He later helped Andrew again in the search for the seven swords, by finding the sixth Meonia sword in Tintagel, Cornwall. This episode has been immortalised in chapter 45 of Andrew Collins' psychic questing classic The Seventh Sword. The chapter is entitled Morgana Awakes and absolutely sums up how I will always remember Dave.

Dave Hunt co-founded ASH magazine, along with myself, Ian Dawson, Claire Capon and Jim Kirkwood, and under his leadership he encouraged us all to write and lecture about what we had researched. He remained with the magazine until its demise in the spring of 1997. He also helped host two very successful ASH magazine Esoterica conferences and was fundamental in the organisation of the ASH Wednesday public meetings, held during the mid 1990s. He was an active member of the Leigh-on-Sea based Temple of Isis Iseum, during the early 1990s and a valuable guiding light, teacher and mentor in the Clan of the Trees. Dave's biggest legacy though was his research. He spent years researching the Essex Landscape Zodiac, and I sincerely hope that someone, somewhere has this document, and that it will one day be published. I recall spending many happy hours out in the field with Dave, whilst he checked and re-checked the maps and the landscape for clues to the elusive geometry of the Zodiac, and he gave many excellent lectures on this subject.

The thing that will always stay with me most of all was Dave's infectious sense of humour. Many times I recall situations that needed the lightness of his humour and he always made everyone laugh, and this was one of the joys of belonging to some of the groups he was a part of. Dave was a wise soul, who would tell it as it was! He will be sadly missed in the communities he served.

I am very fortunate to have in my possession some of Dave's work, and I hope to be able to publish some of it in due course. 

The photo above is of Dave at the Whispering Knights, Rollright, Oxfordshire. One of his favourite places. Below is Dave with some of the ASH magazine team.

L - R Dave Hunt, Claire Capon and Ian Dawson (Pic credit: Claire Capon-Hawley)

Years End

Years End

by Dave Hunt

In the hours between the hours when day has
died and night not yet begun
and this old Earth is made to sigh by Autumn's dim
and dwindling days,
over hills and vales made mellow by the mists and
setting sun.
The Mother of the mystery walks her secret ways.
As old as time, and born of time itself She passes,
quiet, stealthy and unseen.
Shuddering with the cloying cold that surely
soon will come.
Making Summer's sun and warmth a half
remembered dream.
And as She passes, with caressing touch, She
plucks the life from all She does survey
and drops it, gently as a falling leaf, into
a basket made of dark decay.
Over all the land She wanders, dogged by
shades of darkness and of fear,
pausing for a while at homesteads locked
against the Crone,
to scratch at door and window or to
freeze the child's tear
who hears her in the chimney softly
moan.
When She has passed the land is
locked in Winter's sere and snowy hold.
The now dead sun hangs like a pearl in
the pewter bowl of sky,
yet folk in Albion, huddled round the
fires against the cold
quietly wait to hear from far a future
Child's cry.

Written in 1989, and originally published in ASH magazine no. 3.

The Witch and the Stone

Folklorist Ian Dawson was one of the founder editors of ASH Magazine, and was at the magazine until the very last issue in 1997. He spent the nine years that ASH was in print, as a loyal and leading light within the editorial team. He wrote more articles than anyone else, and was a champion of the Green Man in Essex, along with being a mine of information on Essex Witchcraft and Cunning Lore. The article below, was one of his earlier ones, and was published in the second issue, which hit the streets in the winter of 1988!

The Witch and the Stone
by Ian Dawson

For years Essex has been known as the witch county, because of the many witchcraft trials held there in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It is hardly surprising therefore, that there are many stories about witches and their craft, coming from this part of the British Isles. One such story is that of the Witch of Scrapfaggots Green. For years the villagers of Great Leighs knew of large stone that lay at the crossroads known locally as Scrapfaggots Green. Under the stone were the remains of the Witch of Great Leighs, put to death some 300 years before.

In 1944, during the second world war, the roads leading to Boreham air base had to be widened so that military vehicles could travel along them. One of these roads, called Drachett Lane, led over the crossroads where the witch lay, and an army bulldozer pushed aside the stone that marked the witch's grave. From that day onwards. there followed a series of events that defied all explanation and to which nearly everyone in the village was witness to at one time or another. For instance, after a calm and serene night, a farmer awoke to find his hay stacks had been tipped over and scattered around the surrounding countryside. He also found his wagons had been turned sideways in their sheds and it took the farm labourers half an hour to get them out! Sheep were found outside their still secure pens, yet there were no gaps or any means of escape. A builder found his scaffold poles spread all over his yard and some decorators found their heavy paint pots and tools missing, when they turned up for work at a cottage they were decorating. They finally discovered the paint pots under a bed in the attic. The church bells rang of their own accord at midnight and the church clock was found to be two hours slow. Cows stopped giving milk, chickens stopped laying and three geese disappeared without a trace. Not even a tell-tale feather. A chicken that belonged to no one was found dead in a water barrel. Daily the turmoil grew until a reporter for the Sunday Pictorial arrived on the scene and was witness to one event himself. At the village pub, the Dog and Gun, another large stone turned up on the doorstep. The landlord said he had not seen it before and did not know where it had come from. After he and the reporter struggled to move it out of the way, he stated that it would take at least three strong men to lift it.

This, as with the other happenings, had no explainantion. No logical one anyway.The locals though, had their own theory. The moving of the stone at Scrapfaggot Green had let loose the spirit of the witch and it was she who was to blame for all the disturbances. Harry Price, the well known ghost hunter and head of the London University Council for Psychical Investigation, was consulted about the mysterious happenings, and in his view, the events were caused by a poltergeist and suggested the stone should be replaced in its original position. As this action was in accord with local feeling, and that Halloween, the witches night was approaching, they decided that this was what they should indeed do. So out to the stone on Scrapfaggots Green the villagers went and edged it back to its place. From that moment, all the strange activity stopped. They later found out however, that one last trick had been played before the replacement of the stone. A woman who kept rabbits, arrived home to find them all in the chicken coup with the chickens! So what was the cause of all these disturbances?

These upsets, although trivial, were witnessed by nearly everyone in the village and some of them would have required super human strength, ruling out the possibility of any foul play. Earth Mysteries enthusiasts would say that the stone at Scrapfaggots Green was a pagan standing stone or markstone, and the removal of this stone would release the earth energies flowing into it, causing poltergeist activity to occur. Or perhaps the villagers of Great Leighs were correct in their assumption, that it was the witch herself who was causing all the mysterious happenings.

Records show that there was indeed a witch who came from Great Leighs by the name of Ann Hewghes who was brought to trial at he nearby Chelmsford Assizes in 1621. For various misdemeanors performed on the nights of the witches sabbats, the old Celtic quarter days of Imbolc, Feb. 1st, Beltane April 30th, Lughnasadh Aug. 1st and Samhain Oct. 31st, she was put to death at the stake. As burning of witches did not take place after the reformation, this form of execution seems quite strange. However, among the crimes Ann Hewghes committed was the murder of her husband which was considered petty treason and punishable by burning at the stake. She was buried on the spot and covered by a stone to keep her down. There is no record where this spot was but crossroads were traditionally the burial place of witches. Bones and ashes were said to have been found beneath the stone at Scrapfaggots Green and incidentally, scrapfaggot is an old Essex name for a witch.

The stone which turned up at the village pub can still be seen. You will not find it at the dog and gun however, but at the St Annes Castle Inn. It seems that one night, three men from the pub tried to carry off the stone, still known as the witches stone, to no avail. Upon investigation, the stone was found to be too small to be the same one that covered the witches grave, but could it be a fragment of the original stone? The bulldozer that widened the road could quite easily have broken it and a piece found its way to the pub.

The fact that the stone is now at St Annes Castle Inn is interesting. The pub is one of the oldest ion England and is haunted by an old lady called Anne. Some say it is he witch herself who has taken up residence at the Inn, arriving with the stone that for so long kept her down.

A strange story but a true one. Whatever the case, the facts remain. I'll leave you to decide for yourself.


Notes.
The image above was published with the original article and is by Jim Kirkwood.