_Sites of Buildings mysteriously changed._--It may be amusing to the
readers of "N. & Q.," and attended with some useful result, to record a
few popular traditions respecting the mysterious opposition to the
building of certain edifices on the spots originally designed for them
by their founders. I will introduce the subject with the local
traditions about the building of three churches well known to myself.
1. The church of Breedon, in Leicestershire, stands alone on a high
hill, the village being at its foot. The hill is so steep on the side
towards the village, that a carriage can only ascend by taking a very
circuitous course; and even the footpath winds considerably, and in some
parts ascends by steps formed in the turf. The inconvenience of such a
situation for the church is obvious, and the stranger, of course,
wonders at the folly of those who selected a site for a church which
would necessarily preclude the aged and infirm from attending public
worship. But the initiated parishioner soon steps forward to enlighten
him on the subject, and assures him the pious founder consulted the
convenience of the village, and assigned a central spot for the site of
the church. There the foundation was dug, and there the builders began
to rear the fabric; but all they built in the course of the day was
carried away by _doves_ in the night, and skilfully built in the same
manner on the hill where the church now stands. Both founder and
workmen, awed by this extraordinary interference, agreed to finish the
edifice thus begun by doves.
2. The parish church of Wendover, in Buckinghamshire, stands nearly half
a mile from the town. The church was to have been placed on a field
adjoining the town, and there the building of it was begun; but the
materials were all carried away in the night by witches, or, as some
relate the tradition, by fairies, and deposited where the church now
stands. The field in which the church was to have been built is still
called "Witches' Meadow."
3. The parish church of Winwick, Lancashire, stands near that
miracle-working spot where St. Oswald, king of the Northumbrians, was
killed. The founder had destined a different site for it, but his
intention was overruled by a singular personage, whose will he never
dreamed of consulting. It must here be noticed that Winwick had then not
even received its name; the church, as not uncommon in those days, being
one of the earliest erections in the parish. The foundation of the
church, then, was laid where the founder had directed, and the close of
the first day's labour showed the workmen had not been idle, by the
progress made in the building. But the approach of night brought to pass
an event which utterly destroyed the repose of the few inhabitants
around the spot. A pig was seen running hastily to the site of the new
church; and as he ran he was heard to cry or scream aloud "We-ee-wick,
We-ee-wick, We-ee-wick!" Then, taking up a stone in his mouth, he
carried it to the spot sanctified by the death of St. Oswald, and thus
employing himself through the whole night, succeeded in removing all the
stones which had been laid by the builders. The founder, feeling himself
justly reproved for not having chosen that sacred spot for the site of
his church, unhesitatingly yielded to the wise counsel of the pig. Thus
the pig not only decided the site of the church, but gave a name to the
parish.
In support of this tradition, there is the figure of a pig sculptured on
the tower of the church, just above the western entrance; and also the
following Latin doggerel:
"Hic locus, Oswalde, quondam placuit tibi valde;
Northanhumbrorum fueras Rex, nuncque Polorum
Regna tenes, loco passus Marcelde vocato."
May not the phrase "Please the pigs" have originated in the above
tradition, since the founder of Winwick Church was obliged to succumb to
the pleasure of his porkish majesty?
Instances of equally marvellous changes in the sites of buildings are
recorded in Bede, and other monkish writers. Perhaps it would not be
difficult to unravel the mystery of such changes.