I do love an origin story, Amongst others I tell tell my versions of why crows are black, why cats purr, why snow is white and why the Snowdrop is the first flower of Spring.
This is my origin story for the long man of Wilmington chalk figure in East Sussex. It came to me whilst walking the hills above the figure in Spring 2007. It was first told publically at the 2008 Anderida Gorsedd Bardic Chair competition.
The Giant’s Treasure
A long time ago in the Vale of Wilmington, the villagers and farmers told tales of a giant who lived in the hills around their land. It was said that this giant had a vast store of silver and gold coins hidden away somewhere in the hills. However the villagers cared not for this treasure and none of them ever tried to find it. This was because the giant was a benevolent soul who looked after them, their animals and the land that they lived on.
Many was the time that the giant would pluck distressed sheep, goats and cattle from the hillside, tend to their injuries and see them returned safely to the grateful farmers. Should a villager become lost on the hills in mist or bad weather he would often feel the guiding hand of the giant leading him to safety.
So the villagers loved their giant and had no thoughts of looking for his treasure.
However, word of the giants treasure reached far and wide, and not all of those who heard about it were content to leave it be! One such group of people was a band of warriors from overseas. They set sail for Pevensey with a mind to steal the treasure from the giant. Once at Pevensey, they hiked overland to Windover Hill. During the night time they dug two huge holes in the ground, one larger and deeper than the other. The larger hole they covered with logs and grass so it was almost hidden from view. Then as the sun rose, they herded sheep and goats into the smaller hole.
The distressed bleating of these animals reached the ears of the giant and he strode over the hill to investigate. Before he realised what he was doing he stepped on the logs covering the large hole, they gave way and the giant went crashing to the bottom of the hole.
Immediately the warriors rushed to the edge of the hole and hurled boulders, spears and arrows at the trapped giant. Unable to defend himself it was not long before the giant was killed by this onslaught. Cheering the warriors buried the body of the giant and set to look for his treasure. They were unsuccessful, but vowed to return the following day to continue the search.
The next day, the warriors were astounded to see the body of the giant lying on top of the hill where they had buried him. Thinking that some of the villagers were playing a trick on them, they re-buried the body and continued their search for the treasure. They still did not find it, but vowed to return again to search the next day.
The following morning the warriors were amazed to find the body of the giant once more on top of the hill. So they buried it again and continued their search. Again they were unsuccessful and vowed to return the next day.
The following morning the body of the giant was again lying on top of the hill. This time the warriors flew into a rage and they chopped the giants body to bits. They buried the head here, the arms there and the legs somewhere else. Let the villagers put that back together they thought! They then continued to search for the treasure, but were again unsuccessful and vowed to return for one last try in the morning.
The following morning, there was no body on the hill. Instead there was the ghostly white outline of the giant’s body carved into the chalk where he had fallen on that first day.
It looked to all the world as if the land had refused to give up the body or the memory of the giant that had been its guardian for so long. In amazement the warriors walked over to the carved figure of the giant and wondered how it had been created. As they stood there scratching their beards, a huge wind came rushing down from the hill tops. The huge wind turned into a furious whirlwind and lifted the bodies of the warriors into the air, spun them around and finally flung them to the corners of the world. The screams of the warriors were their last action in this world, for they were never to be seen or heard of again.
Now, many years later, the giant is still there on the hill, standing proud as a guardian to the land he loved in life. It is said that if you walk these hills and mean harm to the land under your feet, then you will hear the screaming of the warriors in the wind, however you should only wish to enjoy the land, then all you will hear is the song of the wind.
My tale is almost told, but I hear you ask “what of the treasure?” Well, the giants’ silver and gold is laid out on these hill for all to enjoy. Should you come to these hills in Spring and Beltane, you will see hosts of daisies, buttercups and cowslips laid out on the hills and meadows for all to enjoy. That is the giant’s treasure of silver and gold, and it is, I think you will agree, a far more valuable treasure than mere coins of the realm!
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