The Lambton Worm



This is an Anglish of the folk tale, The Lambton Worm, first written by William Henderson for Notes on the Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (pp. 287-89.) and later gathered together in More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, and English Fairy and Other Folk Tales by Edwin Sidney Hartland. by Wordwork. See the wender's leaf for more on the wordings.

The magic-e which follows  like the "nde" in "finde" and "lde" in "Childe" has been kept.

English Spelling
A wilde young was the  of Lambton, the   and  by the side of the swift-flowing Wear. Not a Mass would he hear in Brugeford Chapel of a Sunday, but a-fishing he would go. And if he did not in anything, his curses could be heard by the folk as  went by to Brugeford.

Well, one Sunday morning he was fishing as, and not a had risen to him, his  was bare of  or. And the worse his luck, the worse grew his, the  were  at his words as  went to listen to the Mass-prést.

At last young Lambton felt a mighty tug at his string. 'At last,' quoth he, 'a bite worth having!' and he pulled and he pulled, what should  above the water but a head  an elf's, with nine holes on each side of its mouth. But still he pulled he had  the thing to land, when it  out to be a Worm of  shape. If he had cursed} before, his curses were enough to the hair on your head.

'What ails thee, my son?' said a by his side, 'and what hast thou, that thou shouldst  the Lord's Day with such foul ?'

Looking, young Lambton saw old man standing by him.

'Why, truly,' he said, 'I think I have the devil himself. Look you and see if you know him.'

But the shook his head, and said, 'It bodes no good to thee or thine to bring such a  to shore. Yet him not back into the Wear; thou has  him, and thou must keep him,' and with that away he, and was seen no more.

The young of Lambton  up the gruesome thing, and  it off his hook,  it into a well, and ever since that day that well has gone by the name of the Worm Well.

For some time nothing more was seen or heard of the Worm, one day it had outgrown the  of the well, and came forth full-grown. So it came forth from the well and itself to the Wear. And all day long it would lie  a  in the middle of the stream, while at night it came forth from the  and harried the. It sucked the milk,  the lambs, worried the, and frightened all the women and  in the , and then it would  for the rest of the night to the hill, still  the Worm Hill, on the north side of the Wear, about a mile and a half from Lambton Hall.

This  brought young Lambton, of Lambton Hall, to his. He upon himself the  of the, and  for the Holy Land, in the hope that the  he had brought upon his  would. But the grisly Worm no heed,  that it  the  and came right up to Lambton Hall itself where the old lord lived on all alone, his only son having gone to the Holy Land. What to do? The Worm was coming and  to the Hall; women were, men were gathering weapons, dogs were barking and horses neighing with. At last the steward out to the, 'Bring all your milk hither', and when  did so, and had brought all the milk that the nine  of the byre had yielded, he  it all into the long stone trough  the Hall.

The Worm drew nearer and nearer, at last it came up to the trough. But when it sniffed the milk, it aside to the trough and swallowed all the milk up, and then slowly   and  the, and  its  three times  the Worm Hill for the night.

Henceforth the Worm would the  every day, and woe betide the Hall if the trough  the milk of less than nine kye. The Worm would hiss, and would, and lash its tail the trees of the , and in its  it would  the  oaks and the. So it went on for seven years. Many to  the Worm, but all had, and many a knight had lost his life in fighting with the , which slowly  the life out of all that came near it.

At last the Childe of Lambton came home to his father's Hall, after seven long years spent in and  on holy. Sad and he found his folk: the lands untilled, the , half the trees of the  , for none would  to  the nine kye that the  needed for his food each day.

The Childe sought his father, and his forgiveness for the curse he had brought on the Hall.

'Thy sin is ,' said his father; 'but go thou to the Wise Woman of Brugeford, and find if aught can free us from this .'

To the Wise Woman went the Childe, and asked her.

"Tis thy, O Childe, for which we ,' she said; 'be it thine to us.'

'I would give my life,' said the Childe.

' thou wilt do so,' said she. 'But hear me, and mark me well. Thou, and thou alone, canst kill the Worm. But, to this end, go thou to the and have thy  studded with spear-heads. Then go to the Worm's in the Wear, and  thyself there. Then, when the Worm comes to the at dawn of day,  thy  on him, and God gi'e thee a good .'

'This I will do,' said Childe Lambton.

'But one thing more,' said the Wise Woman, going back to her. 'If thou slay the Worm, swear that thou wilt put to death the first thing that meets thee as thou  the threshold of Lambton Hall. Do this, and all will be well with thee and thine. Fulfil not thy, and none of the Lambtons, for three times three, shall  in his bed. Swear, and not.'

The Childe swore as the Wise Woman bid, and went his way to the. There he had his studded with spear-heads all over. Then he his  in Brugeford Chapel, and at dawn of day  his  on the Worm's  in the.

As dawn broke, the Worm its snaky twine from  the hill, and came to its  in the. When it the Childe  for it, it lashed the waters in its  and wound its   the Childe, and then  to  him to death. But the more it, the deeper dug the spear-heads into its sides. Still it and,  all the water  was  with its blood. Then the Worm unwound itself, and left the Childe free to his sword. He it, brought it down, and cut the Worm in two. One half fell into the, and was swiftly away. Once more the head and the of the body  the Childe, but with less, and the spear-heads did  work. At last the Worm itself, snorted its last foam of blood and fire, and   into the, and was never seen more.

The Childe of Lambton swam ashore, and raising his to his lips,  its  thrice. This was the to the Hall, where the  and the old lord had shut  in to  for the Childe's. When the third of the  was heard,  were to  Boris, the Childe's  hound. But such was  at learning of the Childe's  and the Worm's, that  forgot , and when the Childe reached the threshold of the Hall, his old father  out to meet him, and would have clasped him to his breast.

'The ! the !' out the Childe of Lambton, and blew still another blast upon his horn. This time the, and  Boris, who came  to his young. The Childe his shining sword, and  the head of his  hound.

But the was broken, and for nine  of men none of the Lambtons  in his bed. The last of the Lambtons in his  as he was  Brugeford Bridge, one hundred and thirty years ago.

Anglish Spelling
A ƿilde yung ƿas þe  of Lambton, þe   and  by þe side of þe sƿift-floƿing Ƿear. Not a Mass ƿould he hear in Bricgford Ceapel of a Sunday, but a-fiscing he ƿould go. And if he did not in anyþing, his curses coold be heard by þe folk as  ƿent by to Bricgford.

Ƿell, one Sunday morning he ƿas fiscing as, and not a had risen to him, his  ƿas bare of  or. And þe ƿorse his luck, þe ƿorse greƿ his, þe  ƿere  at his ƿords as  ƿent to listen to þe Mass-preest.

At last yung Lambton felt a migty tug at his string. 'At last,' cƿoþ he, 'a bite ƿorþ hafing!' and he pulled and he pulled, hƿat scould  abuf þe ƿater but a head  an elf's, ƿiþ nine holes on eac side of its muþe. But still he pulled he had  þe þing to land, hƿen it  ute to be a Ƿorm of  scape. If he had cursed before, his curses ƿere enuff to þe hair on yeƿer head.

'Hƿat ails þee, my sun?' said a by his side, 'and hƿat hast þu, þat þu shooldst  þe Lord's Day ƿiþ suc fule ?'

Looking, yung Lambton saƿ old man standing by him.

'Hƿy, treƿly,' he said, 'I þink I hafe þe defil himself. Look yeƿ and see if yeƿ knoƿ him.'

But þe scook his head, and said, 'It bodes no good to þee or þine to bring suc a  to score. Yet him not back into þe Ƿear; þu has  him, and þu must keep him,' and ƿiþ þat aƿay he, and ƿas seen no more.

Þe yung of Lambton  up þe greƿsome þing, and  it off his hook,  it into a ƿell, and ever sinss þat day þat ƿell has gone by þe name of þe Ƿorm Ƿell.

For sum time noþing more ƿas seen or heard of þe Ƿorm, one day it had utegroƿn þe  of þe ƿell, and came forþ full-groƿn. So it came forþ from þe ƿell and itself to þe Ƿear. And all day long it ƿould lie  a  in þe middel of þe stream, hƿile at nigt it came forþ from þe  and harried þe. It sucked þe milk,  þe lambs, ƿorried þe, and frigtened all þe ƿomen and  in þe , and þen it ƿould  for þe rest of þe nigt to þe hill, still  þe Ƿorm Hill, on þe norþ side of þe Ƿear, abute a mile and a half from Lambton Hall.

Þis  brougt yung Lambton, of Lambton Hall, to his. He upon himself þe  of þe, and  for þe Holy Land, in þe hope þat þe  he had brougt upon his  ƿould. But þe grisly Ƿorm no heed,  þat it  þe  and came rigt up to Lambton Hall itself hƿere þe old lord lifed on all alone, his only son hafing gone to þe Holy Land. Hƿat to do? Þe Ƿorm ƿas coming and  to þe Hall; ƿomen ƿere, men ƿere gaþering ƿeapons, dogs ƿere barking and horses neihing ƿiþ. At last þe steƿard ute to þe, 'Bring all yeƿer milk hiþer', and hƿen  did so, and had brougt all þe milk þat þe nine  of þe byre had yeelded, he  it all into þe long stone troff  þe Hall.

Þe Ƿorm dreƿ nearer and nearer, at last it came up to þe troff. But hƿen it sniffed þe milk, it aside to þe troff and sƿalloƿed all þe milk up, and þen sloƿly   and  þe, and  its  þree times  þe Ƿorm Hill for þe nigt.

Henssforþ þe Ƿorm ƿould þe  efery day, and ƿoe betide þe Hall if þe troff  þe milk of less þan nine kye. Þe Ƿorm ƿould hiss, and ƿould, and lasc its tail þe trees of þe , and in its  it ƿould  þe  oaks and þe. So it ƿent on for sefen years. Many to  þe Ƿorm, but all had, and many a knigt had lost his life in figting ƿiþ þe , hƿich sloƿly  þe life ute of all þat came near it.

At last þe Cilde of Lambton came home to his faþer's Hall, after sefen long years spent in and  on holy. Sad and he funde his folk: þe lands untilled, þe , half þe trees of þe  , for none ƿould  to  þe nine kye þat þe  needed for his food eac day.

Þe Cilde sougt his faþer, and his foryeafeness for þe curss he had brougt on þe Hall.

'Þy sin is ,' said his faþer; 'but go þu to þe Ƿise Ƿoman of Bricgford, and finde if augt can free us from þis .'

To þe Ƿise Ƿoman ƿent þe Cilde, and asked her.

"Tis þy, O Cilde, for hƿic ƿe ,' sce said; 'be it þine to us.'

'I ƿould my life,' said þe Cilde.

' þu ƿilt do so,' said sce. 'But hear me, and mark me ƿell. Þu, and þu alone, canst kill þe Ƿorm. But, to þis end, go þu to þe and hafe þy  studded ƿiþ spear-heads. Þen go to þe Ƿorm's in þe Ƿear, and  þyself þere. Þen, hƿen þe Ƿorm comes to þe at daƿn of day,  þy  on him, and God yi'e þee a good .'

'Þis I ƿill do,' said Cilde Lambton. 'But one þing more,' said þe Ƿise Ƿoman, going back to her. 'If þu slay þe Ƿorm, sƿear þat þu ƿilt put to deaþ þe first þing þat meets þee as þu  þe þreshold of Lambton Hall. Do þis, and all ƿill be ƿell ƿiþ þee and þine. Fulfil not þy, and none of þe Lambtons, for þree times þree, scall  in his bed. Sƿear, and not.'

Þe Cilde sƿore as þe Ƿise Ƿoman bid, and ƿent his ƿay to þe. Þere he had his studded ƿiþ spear-heads all over. Þen he his  in Bricgford Ceapel, and at daƿn of day  his  on þe Ƿorm's  in þe.

As daƿn broke, þe Ƿorm its snaky tƿine from  þe hill, and came to its  in þe. Hƿen it þe Cilde  for it, it lasced þe ƿaters in its  and ƿunde its   þe Cilde, and þen  to  him to deaþ. But þe more it, þe deeper dug þe spear-heads into its sides. Still it and,  all þe ƿater  ƿas  ƿiþ its blood. Þen þe Ƿorm unƿunde itself, and left þe Cilde free to his sƿord. He it, brougt it doƿn, and cut þe Ƿorm in tƿo. One half fell into þe, and ƿas sƿiftly aƿay. Ones more þe head and þe of þe body  þe Cilde, but ƿiþ less, and þe spear-heads did  ƿork. At last þe Ƿorm itself, snorted its last foam of blood and fire, and   into þe, and ƿas nefer seen more.

Þe Cilde of Lambton sƿam ascore, and his  to his lips,  its  þrise. Þis ƿas þe to þe Hall, hƿere þe  and þe old lord had scut  in to  for þe Cilde's. Hƿen þe þird of þe  ƿas heard,  ƿere to  Boris, þe Cilde's  hunde. But suc ƿas  at learning of þe Cilde's  and þe Ƿorm's, þat  forgot , and hƿen þe Cilde reaced þe þreshold of þe Hall, his old faþer  ute to meet him, and ƿould have clasped him to his breast.

'Þe ! þe !' ute þe Cilde of Lambton, and bleƿ still anoþer blast upon his horn. Þis time þe, and  Boris, hƿo came  to his yung. Þe Cilde his scining sƿord, and  þe head of his  hunde.

But þe ƿas broken, and for nine  of men none of þe Lambtons  in his bed. Þe last of þe Lambtons in his  as he ƿas  Bricgford Bridge, one hundred and þirty years ago.