A Townful of Stories

Yesterday we went into Hereford. The centre of the town - of the county - is compact and almost free of cars. It was a bright cold day and outside the cathedral was a man playing a penny whistle, a haunting sound which he made soft and then stronger, louder then quieter; and all the time he was fighting the breeze. I love seeing musicians on the streets, they make people think of the street in a different way, not just as a route between departures and destinations. Hereford is a very old city and I kept seeing fragments of the city walls, pierced by roads and rebuilt, down back alleys and near roundabouts. It is a city of old narrow streets, especially around the cathedral on the river. The old Wye bridge dates from 1490; the cathedral precinct is Saxon in origin, and there seems to be discussion about the Romans in the area. But the story that fascinated me yesterday was the dedication of the cathedral to the Blessed Virgin Mary and St Ethelbert. He was an Anglian king who was murdered by King Offa and his head was thrown into the river - the Lugg. The Lugg is a long river and flows near Hereford which even then (seventh century) was important, so it has nothing to do with this valley. But I wondered if there was an age-old memory of heads and Celtic guardian river-spirits which had become grafted onto the historical story. Why cut off his head at all, and why throw it in the river?