Another poetry pamphlet from the laureate of the fens, Pete Cox. This one contains a handful of works on a mysterious medieval outfit founded by one Hugh Bardolph. The guild 'oversaw the construction and consecration (in 1235) of the so-called Dean's Eye' - a rose window in Lincoln Cathedral. Among other things...
The first poem deals with the imps of Lincoln and their role in the earthquake of 1185. Apparently 'their interference had been deduced/By mages skilled in ancient scrying art'. Which was a good thing, as 'holy magics' could be 'unloosed' on the little blighters. The imps turned to gargoyles. Serves 'em right.
'Hugh Bardolph and the Dragon' is a nice anecdote about the eponymous chap in his youth, arriving at court with what he claimed was the head of a dragon. Dinosaur fossil? Perhaps. As the poem reveals, Henry II and his advisors were not mugs. Hugh admits it's a fair cop...
'I found the skull among the rocks and sand
And then brought it here to the royal court
I meant to entertain with my tale and
Did not expect to be so quickly caught.'
Hugh would do well on Facebook, TikTok, or YouTube, the happy hunting grounds of every clickbait-hungry grifter pushing crackpot theories.
'Tommy Lindrum and the Devil' is a tall tale featuring a cat being let out of a bag - literally. It's all about a confrontation between Old Nick and a wizard who offers up his soul in return for a causeway. The Devil is happy to oblige with some major engineering works. To be fair, he does have help.
'So some small imps mixed cobbles far away
Some tiny imps surveyed the sodden fen
Two imps argued over hourly pay
But each imp did the work of twenty men'
Getting payment for all this proves problematic for DevilCorp. Tommy Lindrum, who I imagine as a kind of working-class Gandalf, wins the game and 'just laughed at the evil one'. I'd never heard of this particular Tommy, but he was clearly the man for sigils and tomes.
There are also some shorter poems, among which is 'Uproar in the Woods', which I particularly like. It tells of Herla and the Wild Hunt, riding 'upon horses and black he-goats'. There are copious notes to this one, and it seems the spectral hunters were very busy in East Anglia. But it was near Hereford that they met their match in 1155 in the form of a Welshman who 'accosted them' and forced them into the River Wye, where they promptly vanished. One Welshman took down King Herla and his boys? I suspect nationalist propaganda.
The final poem concerns 'deep places - by the hollow lands' where sacrifices were made to a Snake Idol. The Guild frees the boggarts, victims of evil sorcery. Apparently in 1996 West Deeping saw the discovery of leaden tablets bearing the names of Gnostic Archons. This is all way above my pay grade but I find it all convincing. Suffice to say, these are poems garlanded with esoteric knowledge.
If you would like to learn more about Hugh and the Guild, send an SAE to Cardinal Cox at:
58 Pennington
Orton Goldhay
Peterborough
PE2 5RB
No comments:
Post a Comment