Dig deep enough and one can usually unearth some strange stories hidden below the surface of most communities. Like ancient shards thrown up in mole hills, once cleaned up, these fragments can sometimes be revealed as forgotten treasures.

Abbotsbury has its own share, and this section aims to record such tales. Here are two such, recently come to light. Hopefully other members of the community can add to the store.

In 1757 people on Portland spotted this ‘mermaid’ in the bay. She was eventually washed ashore at West Bexington. She didn’t much resemble the traditional image of a mermaid: John Hutchins in the first two editions of his great ‘History and Antiquities of Dorset’ reported on his own inspection of the corpse. It was 13 feet long and ‘the head was partly like that of a man and partly like that of a hog. The fins resembled hands and it had a masculine jawbone with 48 teeth in both the upper and lower jaw.’

The chronicler, Holinshed, recorded a sighting of such a monster ‘in the Ile of Portland’ as long ago as 1457: ‘a cocke coming out of the sea, having a great creast upon its head and a red beard, and legs half a yard long: he stood on the water and crowed foure times, and everie time turned him about, and beckened with his head, towards the north, the south and the west, and was the colour of a fesant, & when he crowed three times, he vanished awaie.’

At some stage the creature was named ‘Veasta’, based on the local dialect pronunciation of ‘feast’, and it has been spotted in the bay over the years many times to as recently as 1965, 1995 and 1999 . . . . so keep your eyes open!

JH

The story that the trader Joseph of Arimethea brought the child Jesus with him to Glastonbury where they built a hut, later to be the site of Abbey there, is fairly widely known.

IN 2006 a psychotherapist and dowser from Norwich, Arthur Hamlin, turned up in the village with the claim that Joseph was a trader who came to buy some of the famous Cornish tin. According to Mr Hamlin, Joseph and the boy Christ landed on the Isle of Wight where they spent some time, then they came along our coast to Abbotsbury where Jesus stayed in a hut they built on the site of the present church, while Joseph went on to Cornwall to purchase the tin. They met up again at Glastonbury, where Joseph again left the boy while he travelled on to Norfolk to get the tin smelted. When he returned they made their way back to Cornwall by the traditionally accepted route – through Somerset and North Devon - before returning to Palestine.

JH

The hills of West and South Dorset are, of course, rich in prehistoric remains, including several stone circles, and many long and round barrows. Just beyond White Hill to the north of Abbotsbury is a tumble of stones with the above strange name. This was once a long barrow made up of a burial chamber behind a small semi-circular ‘wall’ facing the rising sun on what we now call May Day, with a long mound rather like a tail stretching behind it.

This is the only monument in the British Isles with this curious name. What is the story behind it?

West Dorset marks the western extremity of Celtic tribal lands belonging to a culture centred on Wales and Ireland. These people are perhaps best known by their Irish name, the ‘Tuatha de Danann’ - tribe of the goddess Danu, and in Wales as the ‘Children of Don’. It is said that they originally came from Greece and it is possible to follow the track of their journey across Europe is marked by the river-names, Dneiper, Don and Danube, and Denmark. They settled for a time in the far north where they learnt great wisdom and spells, then descended on Ireland out of a cloud. Eventually, after many years of rule, this magical people were banished underground by their successors, to join the fairy people.

The ‘Grey Mare’ is the Horse Goddess, also know as Rhiannon, Rigantona or Epona. Her story, and that of her divine son, Gwri Goldenhair (a form of the sun god Apollo Maponos) is to found in the collection of Welsh myth, ‘The Mabinogion’ – always in print, a gripping read.

In brief Rhiannon’s story is as follows: following a feast, Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed (South-west Wales) and his court went out to a nearby hill to seek wonders. Suddenly a white horse appeared, ridden by an amazingly beautiful woman. It sauntered by, and Pwyll sent a servant to fetch her back. He rode furiously after her but however hard he rode he couldn’t catch her, though her pace seemed unchanged. This happened again the following evening, with no more success. On the third night Pwyll himself tried calling her back and she immediately came to him.

They married, but for a year there was no child, until at last she gave birth, and nurses were set to watch over the mother and child. Unfortunately they all fell asleep, and when they awoke, the child had disappeared. Fearing some dreadful punishment they conspired to say that Rhiannon had killed the child. As a punishment she was condemned to sit outside the door on a horse-block, tell all visiting strangers what she was supposed to have done, and offer to carry them in on her back, like a horse.

Meanwhile in Gwent (South-east Wales) strange things were happening: the lord of the land, Teyrnon Twryf Liant, had a favourite mare, but every time she dropped a colt, a great claw would come through the door and carry it off. Eventually Teyrnon resolved to stay in watch himself. The Claw duly appeared, he slashed at it, and the colt was left behind. Teyrnon went to the door to see if he could see the miscreant. Instead He found a baby lying on the doorstep. He and his wife decided to adopt it, calling him Gwri because of the wonderful colour of his fair hair.

The child grew rapidly and Teyrnon noticed that he closely resembled Pwyll. He took him to the prince, Rhannon was of course exonerated, and the child renamed Pryderi (‘Anxiety’) because of his story. He went on to become the hero of several more tales.

Rhiannon and the Colts were at some time commemorated in our local long barrow.