Lud’s Church, set deep within the heart of the Back Forest, in an area known as The Dark Peak, is quite possibly one of the most secluded places in the whole of North Staffordshire. Situated close to the border with Cheshire, in the Dane Valley, it is a deep chasm, created centuries ago by a massive landslip, surrounded by acres of spectacular countryside, where the visitor can enjoy some of the best panoramic views possibly ever seen; it is a place brimming with mystery and legends, of craggy hilltops, woodland, and wild open moorland. At one time, Lud’s Church became known as Trafford’s Leap, a name given by the local residents, after one of the Squires, at nearby Swythamley Hall, formally a medieval hunting lodge that once belonged to the Abbey of Dieulacres, leapt over the cleft, on horseback, whilst out hunting.
     
There are numerous myths and legends associated with Lud’s Church, and perhaps the most well-known of these concerns that of Walter de Lud-auk, a devout follower of John Wycliffe, an English theologian, later known as the “Dawning Star of the Reformation”, and an obvious enemy of the Roman Catholic Church. His story begins in the summer of 1546, with Sir William de Lacy, who, after visiting an old friend at Swythamley Hall, made his way back to Buckstone, along the River Dane, passing through Back Forest. After a short while, he comes to a well-walked path, which leads to an area of unsurpassed beauty; he ties up his horse and sits for a period, to survey the scene before him.
     
Not before long, Sir William is startled by a loud noise, and, upon turning, he witnesses a large wolf sinking its teeth into a goat. The wolf, being the natural aggressor of the pair, instantly appears to have the upper hand, but in an instant, the goat manages to free itself, enough, at least to drag the wolf deeper into the forest. Fascinated by this David and Goliath type encounter, Sir William decides to follow. Passing through the deep undergrowth, he suddenly finds himself at the entrance to a narrow glen, almost devoid of natural light. From this narrow entrance emerged the goat, and intrigued at this, Sir William looked inside to find the wolf lying motionless on the floor of the ravine, gored to death by the goat, who, suddenly aware of another intruder, quickly made off into the forest, undergrowth scattering as it went.

Deep in thought, Sir William chuckled to himself, and walked the short distance back to his horse, where he found an old man, neatly dressed, sat besides the base of an oak tree, with a worn bible in his hands. At this, Sir William said, “This is indeed a very odd looking cavern.” The old man replied “True, my friend, but the almighty, whose power is able to exalt the humble, and lay low the high, has been pleased to make this cavern, insignificant as it appears, the instrument of many righteous works”. Sir William de Lacy listened intently as the old man began to recite one of the many legends that Lud’s Church has to offer, told in his own words.
     
The immediate followers of John Wycliffe, often called the Dawning Star of the Reformation, were denominated Lollards, derived from the German word, lollen, meaning to sing aloud. Of these followers, Walter de Lud-auk was perhaps one of the most zealous, so much so, that the ecclesiastical authorities attempted to incriminate him at every opportunity, an act which usually ended in failure. During the summer months, Walter de Lud-auk, together with several of his friends, would hide at Lud’s Church, where they could hold their devotional services in safety. Many times, their place of worship would almost be found, but because of the density of the forest, searches for both him and it proved fruitless. Another of Walter de Lud-auk’s friends, the powerful Henrich Montair, head forester, would often keep watch, whilst at the same time, would also smuggle food and clothing in to the group; he was devoted to the Lollards cause.

It was a warm summer afternoon when the Lollards assembled in the vicinity of Lud’s Church, to perform their divine rituals. Standing upon an elevated mound, in the upper part of the ravine, was Walter de Lud-auk, who appeared to be an ageless seventy-year old man, devoid of any such wrinkles, with a shower of snowy white hair; he stood tall, with an air of authority. Whenever he talked, the rest of the group would listen, an eerie silence creeped around the chasm whenever he paused for breath. Walter de Lud-auk was easily suited to the position of leader, to this group of Lollards; he was strong-minded, had immense will, and was brave enough to take whatever the Catholic Church could throw at him, whilst he also had a gentleness about him; wherever he went, he often made an impression on the people that he met.
     
Arranged in a tight circle, the group of Lollards were believed to have numbered around fourteen, and standing beside Walter de Lud-auk was his beautiful eighteen year old granddaughter, Alice de Lud-auk, who almost always accompanied him on his numerous journeys. A rather tall child, especially for her age, Alice’s parents died when she was just an infant, being placed into Walter’s care, and he saw her more of a daughter, as the two had become inseparable. It is stated that she had an unmatched voice, rarely heard of in this period; she surpassed all around her, blessed with an unenviable gift.
     
Another of Walter de Lud-auk’s many followers was Henrich Montair, a gigantic form of a man. Stood at the entrance, or rather leaning, Henrich was the Head Forester at Back Forest, and also acted as look-out for Walter de Lud-auk, bringing food, and weapons to the congregation, not forgetting brute strength if they were ever found. Clad in Lincoln Green attire, Henrich was noted for his good looks, slightly Roman, with a bronzed complexion and curly black beard. He wore a huge belt, which housed a magnificent broadsword, a huntsmen’s horn, and a long dagger; a crossbow, and a sheaf of arrows lay at his feet.

After a short, but slightly solemn prayer, read by Walter de Lud-auk, the opening ceremony was about to begin. Standing together, the group started with a hymn, both beautiful and sincere; it was stated that their voices sang as one. As the hymn neared its natural conclusion, the rest of the congregation stepped back, with Alice de Lud-auk stepping forward. She sang incredibly beautifully, with a voice often described as ’remarkable’ and ’unearthly’. A tear rolled down the cheek of Walter de Lud-auk, as it was a proud moment for him, whenever Alice sang. When her voice reached its highest point, none of the group heard the stampede of feet, the clanking of steel, and raised voices. Before any such movement could be made, as all were mesmerised by Alice, a tall man, clad from head to foot in steel, stood at the entrance to Lud’s Church, soon to be joined by others.

Immediately, the chasm was filled with an eerie silence, only broken by the sound of the man with the sword, which was now raised threateningly into the air. With a huge voice, that easily filled the chamber, the man shouted “Yield, in the name of the blessed Church, and his most gracious Majesty, King Henry”. At this, the Lollard’s quickly seized whatever weapons they could find, and were prepared to fight to the last, to defend what they believed in. But realising they were vastly outnumbered, Walter de Lud-auk ordered his men to stand down at once. All obeyed, except for one man, Henrich Montair, the forester. He darted forward, prepared to protect the Lollards at any cost, and seized hold of the man holding aloft the sword, throwing him, with ease, at the pack of soldiers assembled at the entrance. With an almighty roar, he shouted for Walter de Lud-auk, and the rest of the group, to escape through the other side, whilst he held firm. In a blind panic, one of the soldiers suddenly aimed his arquebus, similar to a rifle, and fired off a shot, which flew past the head forester, and into the chest of Alice de Lud-auk, who let out an almighty shriek.

Hardly daring to look, Henrich Montair slowly turned his head, and saw the beautiful frame of Alice de Lud-auk supported in the arms of her grandfather, stains of blood on her clothing. It was obvious to all that she had been shot by the stray bullet. Uttering a blood-curdling scream, Montair turned and flew at the group of stunned soldiers, stood open-mouthed at the gaping hole of the chasm. Within seconds, his muscular frame was filling the narrowness of Lud’s Church, sending his opponents running for their lives. With great strength, he quickly crushed two men, and with his sword, slayed them instantly. Now, a low sound emanated from within the chasm; at first, it sounded much like a collective sigh, but soon grew stronger and stronger, until Montair realised, that it was the Lollard’s death-chant. At this, his sword fell from his grasp, and, dropping to his knees, he realised that Alice de Lud-auk was dead.

How could such a place of unspoilt beauty; of natural calmness, suddenly witness scenes of carnage and bloodshed. After the death-chant had ended, which, it has to be said, even touched the hearts of the soldiers, Walter de Lud-auk emerged from Lud’s Church with the lifeless body of Alice in his arms; he was quickly followed by the rest of the group, who carried pickaxes and spades, with Henrich Montair following solemnly behind. The Lollards began to dig a hole a few yards away from the entrance, in which Walter de Lud-auk placed the body of Alice, to be her final resting place. It is stated that the soldiers stood in a circle whilst this sad event was happing, silence falling across the men. Walter de Lud-auk then bowed, muttered a small prayer for the departed spirit of his granddaughter, and, ordering the rest of the Lollards to do the same, handed himself over to the soldiers.

There is not much of this legend to tell, only that, on the way to London, Henrich Montair quickly conceived a plan that would enable the Lollards to escape, but Walter de Lud-auk would hear none of it, however, knowing that Montair was on trial for the murder of two of the King’s soldiers, for which he would almost certainly face death, he ordered him to go to France and hand over a number of important documents, but to whom, isn’t recorded. To this, Montair obeyed and made his escape, to France, where he stayed until the invasion of the English. What happened to Walter de Lud-auk, and the rest of the Lollards, isn’t known either, but some of them were released, others were imprisoned only for a short period. It was presumed that Walter de Lud-auk died in prison.

After telling his story, the old man rose to his feet, dusted himself down, and, placing a hand on Sir William de Lacy’s shoulder, and said, “My son, if thou art of the Protestant religion, and art called upon, by the despotic rulers of this land, to abjure thy faith, remember the Lollard’s of Lud’s Church, and stand firm”. At this, Sir William thanked the old man for his story, and advise, and asked to see the grave of the dear-departed Alice. The old man, with a smile, stated “thou has sat in the shadow of the tree that now grows over it”. Sir William once again thanked the old man, and then solemnly made his way to Buckstone.

Another such legend often associated with Lud’s Church is, of course, the story of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Written by an anonymous author, recorded in a single manuscript, said to have been based somewhere in the North or West Midlands. It is a tale of both honesty and purity, believed to date from around the year 1400. Linguists believe that it is written in the style, deemed Alliterative Revival, popular in the fourteenth century. Instead of focusing on the usual metrical syllabic count and rhyme, this alliterative form relied purely on stressed syllables, usually two, at the beginning, with a third and fourth at the end of the line.

The legend of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight begins at King Arthur’s court, at Camelot, where the festive season was in full swing. It was Christmastime, with the New Year only a few days away. Inside the Great Hall, Arthur, several of his Knights, and the lady Guinevere were feasting; singing and laughter were the order of the day. With the food prepared and ready to be served, the group were suddenly disturbed by the sound of thunderous hooves; at the door, mounted on horseback, was the gigantic Green Knight, a man taller than anyone Arthur and his own Knights had ever seen. Indeed, his muscular frame almost filled the doorway, which appeared diminutive in comparison. He was dressed from head to foot in green; even his arms and legs, as was his face. Also, the Knight’s horse appeared green. King Arthur and his Knights sat mesmerised, as this strange apparition suddenly departed from his horse and stood before them.

Speaking slowly, so that he could be understood clearly, the Green Knight addressed the assembly before him. He explained that he was here to set King Arthur, and the various Knights, a challenge. Looking directly at Arthur, he said “I challenge you to take my battle axe and strike me down with one blow. In return, I demand the right to return the blow exactly one year and one day from now”. Reluctantly, because of his reputation, King Arthur felt that he had no other option but to accept the challenge, as foolhardy as it sounded, because it almost certainly meant certain death for the Green Knight.

As Arthur stood in front of the Green Knight, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. With his love and devotion to both Arthur and Guinevere, Gawain, the youngest of the Knights, felt that it was his challenge to take, and begged Arthur to stand aside, which, albeit reluctantly, he agreed to do. The Green Knight knelt down on the ground, and bowed his head, preparing himself for the blow.

“Gawain gripped on his axe, gathered and raised it, from aloft let it swiftly land where twas naked, so that the sharp blade shivered the bones, and sank clean through the clear fat and clove it asunder. The fair head to the floor fell from the shoulders, and folk fended it with the feet as forth it went rolling, and blood burst from the body bright on the greenness”.

As King Arthur and the Knights watched in horror, a gasp suddenly went around the court. The headless Green Knight picked himself up from the floor, grabbed his decapitated head and held it aloft for all to see. Next, he mounted his horse, before turning towards Gawain, and instructed him to meet exactly one year and a day later, for the return blow, as agreed. He must venture towards a place known as the Green Chapel, or forever be known as a craven. With his duty done, the Green Knight steers his horse away from the court and rides off, still carrying his head in his hand. A stunned silence went around Camelot, with all eyes on Gawain, who appeared subdued. King Arthur placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder, told him to forget about the challenge for now, and to continue feasting. But for Gawain, this was easier said than done, for he was a man of honour, and he knew what had to be done.

With the new year quickly upon him, Gawain’s thoughts turned to the challenge set by the Green Knight. Whatever fate had in store for him, at the Green Chapel, he was a man of honour; a true Knight of Camelot. With this in mind, Gawain set off, with his trusted steed, Gringolet, on the day after All Hallows Day, to complete his deal with the Green Knight. Placing his faith only in God, he made his way from the realm of Logres, travelling into North Wales, via Anglesey and Holy Head, before finally arriving at the Wirral. From here, he travelled through the dark forests of the North Midlands, where he met with ferocious weather conditions. Deciding that, today at least, he could go no further, he rested, with the intention of continuing his journey the next day.

With the arrival of the next morning, Gawain saw, to his delight, that the awful weather conditions had, at least for the time being, died down, so continued on his way to discover the whereabouts of the Green Chapel. Suddenly, through the trees, he saw what appeared to be a gaping drawbridge, leading to a castle. Spurred on, both Gringolet and Gawain hastened their pace, until they reached the entrance, upon which they received a most heartily welcome, as if, somehow, their host was expecting them. Gawain meets with the Lord of the Castle, and his beautiful wife, and quickly explains his reasons for being there. The Lord was only too happy to accommodate Gawain, indeed, offering him food and shelter for as long as he needed. Also, he points out that Gawain’s journey to find the Green Chapel is now at an end, as it was only a short distance from the castle. Since there was a few days remaining until the first day of the new year, Gawain felt that it would only be common courtesy to accept his host’s hospitality, agreeing to remain at the castle.

At dawn, every morning, Gawain noticed that the Lord would leave the grounds of the castle and hunt deer and boar in the nearby forest. Later at night, the Lord would share whatever he caught with his guest, which impressed the young Knight of Camelot greatly. One night, over supper, the Lord explains to Gawain that he would like to offer him a small challenge; he will freely give Gawain whatever he catches, but only on the condition that he gives to the Lord, without any explanation whatsoever, whatever he gains during the day. Somewhat confused, Gawain accepts.

The next morning, Gawain is awakened by someone making a noise when entering his bed chambers. He notices that it is the Lord’s wife, said to have been even more beautiful than Guinevere herself. Her intentions are clear; she is there to seduce him, stating that she knows the reputation of the Knights of Camelot, that they are indeed great lovers. However, Gawain is having none of it, states that he is not interested, to which the lady sighs, and gives him a peck on the cheek before leaving the room. Later that day, when the Lord has returned from a hunting trip, he hands Gawain a deer, to which, in return, Gawain gives the Lord a kiss on the cheek, but refuses to divulge where he actually came across the kiss. Both host and guest later retire.

Upon the arrival of the second morning, the exact same thing happens again, but this time, the beautiful wife is even more determined; at this Gawain struggles to contain himself against his female seductress. Once again, realising that her charm had failed, she leans over and gives him two kisses on the cheek. As before, when the Lord arrives, he gives Gawain a boar; in return Gawain gives the Lord two kisses, and again, refuses to divulge where he got them. As he made his way to the bedroom, Gawain’s mind was filled with chaos; pictures and images of the Lord’s wife filled every corner of his brain. Soon enough, sleep took over and morning arrived.

The next day, the Lord’s wife entered Gawain’s chamber, wearing a long, green, silk gown. Gawain was immediately mesmerised by this visionary beauty, but splendidly restrained himself, but unfortunately, he found himself succumbing to the kiss that she again gave him, which he passionately returned. Before she left the room, the Lord’s wife removed part of her dress, revealing a green lace girdle, which she handed to Gawain, stating that it would protect him in his battle with the Green Knight. Her only insistence was that he must not tell her husband. Later that evening, the Lord returned from another successful hunting trip, and handed over a fox. In return, Gawain gave three kisses to the Lord, but didn’t say anything about the girdle, thus violating their agreement.

Soon enough, the new year was upon Gawain and it was time for him to continue on his journey. Once more, he asked his host for directions to the Green Chapel, to which the Lord entrusted him with a guide from the castle, who would show him the way, but could do no more. With the silk girdle hidden underneath his armour, for protection, Gawain set off in search of his destination, and his terrifying date with the Green Knight. 

As the poet himself wrote, “Then spurred he Gringolet, and betook himself along the path by the side of a wood, and rode over a rough hill into the valley. And he lingered there for some time, and a wild place he thought it, for he saw no resting place, but only high-hills on both sides, and rough, rugged rocks and huge boulders, and the hill shadows seemed desolating to him. Then he drew up his horse, and it seemed wondrous strange to him that he saw not the Green Chapel on any side. At length a little way off he caught sight of a round hillock by the side of a brook, and there was a ford across the brook, and the water therein bubbled as though it were boiling. The knight caught up the reins and came to the hill, alighted, and tied up the reins to the rugged branch of a tree. Then he went to the hill and walked round about it, debating within himself what place it might be. It had a hole at the end and on either side, and it was overgrown with tufts of grass and was all round and hollow within. He thought it nought but an old cave or a crevice. Within and about it there seemed to be a spell. ‘Ah lord,' quoth the gentle knight, Is this the green chapel? Here truly at midnight, Might the devil his matins tell’.

For Gawain, he knew instantly that this desolate place was indeed the Green Chapel. As he dismounted, his attention was suddenly aroused by a wondrously strange noise, as if someone was grinding a weapon, perhaps an axe, against grindstone. “By God Himself”, stated Gawain, a tightening sensation slowly wrapping around his throat. Quietly, he made his way into the deep chasm, afraid, but at the same time, curious as to what he might find. Stood before him was the unmistakable shape of the Green Knight, dressed exactly as he had been when Gawain first encountered him, but this time, he was on foot. Gawain’s eyes immediately fell upon the huge Danish Axe that the fearsome Knight held in his hand.

The Green Knight motioned for Gawain to take his position, and this he did. With understandable courage rarely seen, he pulled back his hair, and waited for the blow, which, almost certainly spelled death for Gawain. Twice the Green Knight raised his almighty axe, and twice he lowered it upon Gawain’s neck, but without a single nick. The third time, the axe only slightly cut Gawain’s neck, which caused little more than a graze. As a relieved Gawain watched his blood trickle slowly onto the snow, he realised that he was still, in fact alive. This he couldn’t understand. As he turned to face the Green Knight, for the last time, he asked why his life had been spared. The fearsome Knight explained that he was, in fact, the Lord of the Castle, Sir Bertilak de Hautdesert, and his intention was to test the resolve and integrity of King Arthur and his Knights. He stated that Sir Gawain had indeed acted accordingly and that his life had been spared. Gawain sat recovering from his ordeal, as the Green Knight continued. He told him that the graze to his neck was to remind him of his one moment of weakness, when he passionately kissed the Lord’s wife, who was acting upon the instructions of the Lord. He stated that on two occasions, Gawain had resisted her charms, but eventually succumbed and accepted the girdle. With that, the Green Knight released him from his obligations, stating that he was free to go wherever he chose. Sir Gawain, much embarrassed by his sheer lapse in concentration, later returned to Camelot, and confessed his sins to a forgiving court.

We know that the exploits of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight are entirely fictitious, that part of the story is never going to be up for debate. What is interesting though is the location of the Green Chapel. Of course, with so many craggy rocks and huge boulders throughout the British Isles, this setting could just about be anywhere. But the fact that the writer of the poem, thought to maybe have been one of the monks from nearby Dieulacres Abbey, knew this area well, pretty much nails the Green Chapel to have been based on Lud’s Church. Even the surrounding locations sound evident enough; the craggy hilltops, huge boulders, dark peaty forests, and bubbling streams fit the bill where the Roaches and Back Forest are concerned.