Leicestershire Folk Tales for Children E-Book

Tom Phillips

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 111

Beschreibung

How does a goddess become a witch? Why do the 9 o'clock horses roam the streets of Leicester? Where can you find a bleeding gravestone? And should you be afraid of the shag-dog? Everywhere has a story to tell. Every building, road, forest and field. Some are true, some are not. These stories have been passed down through the ages so that we don't forget them, and now they are being passed on to you. They will open your eyes to the wonders of what lies just around the corner. You will become the keeper of these local tales. Leicestershire Folk Tales for Children is a book to read on your own, together or out loud. Bring our folk tales to life and let them leap off the page.

Leseprobe

First published 2018

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Tom Phillips, 2018

Illustrations © Jenna Catton, Fern Brimley and Claire Alexandra, 2018

The right of Tom Phillips to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 7509 8945 9

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

Contents

About the Illustrators

Are You Sitting Comfortably?

 1 King Leir

 2 Bel the Giant

 3 The Griffin of Griffydam

 4 Danu

 5 Black Annis

 6 The Oak and the Ash

 7 The Hermit of Holywell

 8 The Nine O’Clock Horses

 9 Strange Rumour and Hearsay

10 Lady Jane Grey

11 The Bleeding Gravestone

12 Shag-Dog

13 Dick Turpin

14 King Richard III: the Myth, the Legend, the Truth

About the Illustrators

Jenna Catton

Finding an illustrator seemed like it would be a big task. I had an idea in my head of what I wanted, and I wanted all my illustrations to be amazing. I am good enough at drawing myself but needed someone with great talent. However, I didn’t find just one extremely talented illustrator, I found three! The first being Jenna.

Jenna is a storyteller as well as an illustrator. She comes from the West Midlands and has a style that I love. I found her through my storytelling friends and we hit it off straight away. She has worked really hard on producing the stunning artwork for the front cover, which is amazing.

Not only has she been doing the artwork, but she has been giving me pointers and suggestions whilst writing the stories. With the wonderful Internet making sharing my stories so easy, she has given me help and advice which I have valued greatly, as she is a wonderful storyteller herself.

You can find more of her work by searching for Jenna Catton Illustrations online.

Fern Brimley

I had told my mum that I was looking for illustrators for my new book. She mentioned it to a friend whose daughter was at university and friends with a girl who was a great artist and wanted to become an illustrator (did you get that?). Anyway, through one thing and another I found myself with a name and a number and gave her a ring, not knowing anything more about her than this.

Well, Fern was very excited about having the chance to provide some illustrations for my book. I received some of her artwork over email and knew straight away that her art style was going to be perfect for a lot of my stories. Fern latched onto the darker, sadder stories and began working on those. The pictures she produced were beautiful and haunting. I couldn’t be more pleased with them.

Fern is hoping this will be a step in the right direction towards achieving her dream of being an illustrator. I really hope she does, she is incredible.

Claire Alexandra

It’s funny how you can know someone for ten years and still never really know them. It’s also funny how what you need can be sitting under your nose all along, but you are too blind to smell it.

I went to university to study to be a teacher with Claire. We were never close friends but stayed in touch on the Internet all these years. I found myself struggling to get another illustrator. Jenna was working hard on the cover art, Fern was flat out with the inside illustrations for half the stories and her university work, but who was going to do the other pictures? I needed a bit of light to go with Fern’s wonderful dark, and then I saw it.

On social media one day, I saw some brilliantly bright and light pictures painted by Claire. In a flash, I got in touch and asked her if she would like to do some art for my book. She told me she had put the paintbrushes down after university and had only just picked them back up. After reassuring her that I loved her work and I definitely wanted her to do some artwork, she sprang to it! Within days she had done several illustrations, pushing herself and producing some truly wonderful pictures.

I am truly very lucky to have such talented illustrators working for me. Please keep a look out for their work in future, you never know, this could be the start of big things for them. I honestly hope it is, they are awesome.

Are You Sitting Comfortably?

Hello and thank you. If you are reading this, then you are a very wise and clever person. You know how exciting and important local folk tales are, well done. You are probably wondering who I am, though. Well, my name is on the front cover, Tom Phillips, but I go by many names: Mr Phillips (when I was a teacher), Daddy (by my children), but the one most people may know me by is Tom the Tale Teller.

I have always had a love of stories and can remember my daddy reading me Brer Rabbit stories when I was a child. These folk tales had been passed down from the slaves of the Deep South of America and were always about a quick-thinking rabbit outsmarting Brer Fox and Brer Bear. As I grew up, I found I loved hearing stories of places. I couldn’t get enough of the stories from my village, Gilmorton, in the sleepy south of Leicestershire (you will find these stories later on in this book).

When I finally grew up (well, my body did, I still think of myself as a big kid at heart) I became a primary school teacher. I found myself telling all manner of stories to my classes, which they loved. I soon realised I had a gift for telling stories without books or scripts, just me, a story and an audience. I began telling stories all over the country to audiences young and old. I finally left teaching to become a storyteller. I travelled around, doing what I loved, all the time taking every opportunity to listen to other storytellers, to learn how they did it, to learn the stories they shared so I could bring that all together to make my own style.

Whilst doing all of this, I was writing. I was writing short stories for younger children that I hope I can get published one day. I also began writing my first big story, my novel. It was an idea I had had for many, many years and I finally started to put it down on paper. Thankfully, a bit of luck struck. I found myself being asked to write this book! I was over the moon!

As I said, I love local stories, and this gave me an excuse to find lots more of them. I have worked hard over the last few months to find stories from all over Leicestershire, some that have been written down before in other books for grown-ups, and some that have never been written down. I have played with them in my head, told some of them to audiences and finally wrote them down. I then read them over, changed bits, added bits, sometimes started again until, well, here we are, I finished them!

I really hope you enjoy them. I will have to warn you, though, Leicestershire seems to have a large number of rather spooky stories. Some of these stories may be a bit scary, but remember this: scary stories are told to us so we learn how to control our fears. A story is just a story. Being scared by a story is a good thing as we know it is not real and we learn that being scared is OK.

These stories have been written to be enjoyable whether they are read aloud to you or you read them in your head. Some are short, some a bit longer and one chapter is full of short little nuggets of stories, more curiosities and interesting things than full stories. Read them, read them again, look at the pictures, live the stories and then head out into the wonderful landscape of Leicestershire with its rolling hills, rocky outcrops, babbling streams and sleepy villages, and find more stories.

1

King Leir

There once was a mighty king who ruled these lands long ago. His name was King Leir and he built his castle, from which he ruled, on the banks of the River Soar. He was the son of the great King Bladud and wanted, more than anything in this world, to father a son and heir to his throne.

King Leir was blessed with three children, only they were all girls. Three daughters, all three beautiful, all three smart. But this was not enough to stop the king from feeling disappointed. He did still love his daughters. More than anything, he loved his daughters.

The eldest was Goneril. She was headstrong, determined, and succeeded in all she did. She was as good with a bow as she was with the steps of the finest dances.

His second daughter was named Regan. Quick of temper and eager to please, she tried her hardest at all times, always trying to best her big sister in all they did.

The youngest was named Cordelia. She was a gentle girl, soft of voice and touch. She cared not for the bickering and competitions between her older sisters, but more for reading her books and walking along the riverside, listening to the birds and watching Mother Nature go about her business.

King Leir knew his time was running short. His girls were now all of an age to get married, and he was now an old man. His wife had died some years earlier and his thoughts had now turned to who he would give his kingdom to. Which of his three daughters would take his throne when he passed?

King Leir called the girls into his chambers. Goneril strode in first, elegant and refined. She was promptly pushed out of the way with a shoulder from her sister, Regan, who ducked under her elder sibling and was now in front. Last in the room was Cordelia, freshly picked herbs in her hand, having come from the kitchens where she had been cooking. The sweet, fragrant smell of rosemary and thyme filled the air and the king’s nose and he smiled, his eyes closing for a brief second. He remembered his wife. She loved to cook. Her hands would always smell of fresh herbs and her hair of the finest of foods.

When the girls had lined up in front of their father, he looked them in the eyes and told them that, ‘I am not getting any younger and soon I shall be gone.’

This caused all three girls to falter, none more so than Cordelia, who shed a tear down her delicate rosy cheek at the thought of losing her father.

The king continued. ‘When this day comes, one of you will have to take my place and rule these fair lands. This will not be an easy choice, as I love each of you dearly and believe each of you would be a fine ruler of this land, so I must think carefully.’

The king stopped for a second. He gazed into each of his daughters’ eyes, his heart filled with the love only a father could feel for these beautiful girls, and then asked, ‘But first, tell me this: how much do you love me? You first, my dearest Goneril.’

Goneril stepped forward and fell at her father’s right-hand side. ‘I love you to the moon and back, Father, to the moon and back!’ and with that she gazed up at him, fluttered her eyelids and gave a soft smile.

‘And you Regan?’ asked the king, raising his gaze towards the middle of his three daughters.

Always wanting to go one better than her sister, Regan flung herself to the floor on her father’s left-hand side, clasped his hand tight and said, ‘I love you to the sun and back, Father, to the sun and back (which is further than the moon … I think).’

Smiling down at both his eldest daughters the king’s heart nearly burst out of his chest. Surely he could not take any more of this, he thought. But, nevertheless, he asked his youngest, the sweet Cordelia, ‘And finally, my sweet, how much do you love me?’

Cordelia looked at the herbs in her hand, then up at her father, and thought hard. After a moment or two she spoke, ‘I love you like fresh meat loves salt,’ she said, smiling softly.