FEW of us will need reminding that today is the Feast Day of St George, the patron saint of England. He is also the patron saint of Germany, Venice, Aragon, Portugal, Ferrara and Greece while being honoured by soldiers, armourers, chivalry, butchers, cavalrymen, saddlers and boy scouts. In Italy he is known as San Giorgio.

The snag is that so little is known about this man apart from his skill at fighting dragons and a reputation for rescuing damsels in distress.

He has always been depicted as a thoroughly decent sort of chap, and there is a story that once, when in full armour, he strode into a temple devoted to Bacchus, the god of wine, and smashed the figure of that god. That made him very unpopular.

Despite his international fame, however, there are no historical records of his life and work.

Nonetheless, he became one of the most famous and heroic of legendary warrior knights during the third and fourth centuries, and in Palestine there was a centre devoted to him because it is said he was martyred in that country for tearing up an edict against Christians.

Until the sixth century, he was widely revered, but it appears that his life and brave deeds are based on nothing more than legend.

Even his dragon-slaying skills were not assigned to him until medieval times, his supposed fights being symbolic of good conquering evil.

The fair maiden he rescued from the dragon (the sign of evil) was a representation of the Holy Church at that time – even now the church is given the feminine gender.

Despite any proof of his actual life, his veneration as the patron saint of England was officially approved by Pope Benedict XIV (1590-91).

In 1969, however, he was demoted by the then Pope due to the lack of proof of his existence and his feast day was abolished. Nonetheless, he remains the patron saint of England.

There can be no doubt his fame as a dragon-slayer is responsible for the wealth of similar tales in this region and around the world.

Here, the dragons are usually called worms but all the stories are based on tales remarkably similar to the original one where George slew the dragon that had captured and was about to kill the king’s daughter.

In all cases, the dragon represents evil and the stories depict the triumph of good over evil, or the power of God over the Devil.

Our regional dragons or worms include the Lambton Worm, the Sockburn Worm, the Pollard Worm (thought by some to be a wild boar), the Dragon of Wantley, the Handale Serpent, the Slingsby Serpent, the Nunnington Worm, the Sexhow Worm, the Whorl Hill Dragon and two from the Border country, the Linton Worm and the Laidley Worm. There may have been others.

Some of these are very well represented in folk lore collections so I thought I would tell the tale of one of the lesser- known dragons, the Handale Serpent. Handale is a place of solitude some two miles south of Loftus and it stands precisely upon the boundary of the North York Moors National Park near Liverton.

Due to its remoteness, it was chosen as the site of a monastery of Benedictine nuns that was founded in 1133 and dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Handale Priory survived until the Reformation when it was dissolved, then being home to only eight nuns.

There is no village of Handale for the area was formerly open farmland with heavily wooded areas, but much of the timber has since been felled. The locality’s name survives in the tale of the Handale Serpent.

Accounts of the serpent describe it as a “loathly worm”.

It had an awesome and hypnotic power over the local maidens because it could lure them into its lair where it kept them for several days before devouring them.

The moment a maiden set eyes on this creature, she was captivated and would follow it back to Handale. Many beautiful maidens from nearby Loftus – then known as either Lofthus, Lofthouses or Lofthowse – were lured away and never seen again.

However, one day a knight in shining armour arrived. A handsome and strong fellow, he was called Scaw and when he discovered the shortage of comely maidens in Loftus, he asked the reason – and was told about the serpent.

He set off to deal with the menace and found its lair in the woods. Eventually it emerged breathing fire and smoke and there followed a tremendous battle with the serpent’s huge tail felling trees and hurling rocks as Scaw tried to find a vulnerable part of its body.

But the serpent was the stronger and dodged all Scaw’s strikes with his sword.

And then Scaw, tired beyond belief, tripped over a fallen tree and lay wearily as the serpent approached. Its jaws were open to devour the brave knight but at the last minute Scaw saw his target - its throat. He lunged and managed to sever a blood vessel whereupon the serpent collapsed and died. Scaw was a hero, and when he searched the lair he found a maiden, Emma Beckwith, trapped there as the serpent’s next meal.

He rescued her and they lived happily ever after. The wood became known as Scaw’s Wood and many years after Scaw died a tomb, was found in Handale Priory. It bore a carved sword on the lid and was said to contain his body.

Formany years it was on view in Handale Priory.

ABOUT sixty of our wild flowers begin with the name dog. Dog violet is probably one of the best known with others such as dog rose, dogwood, dog’s mercury, dog’s thistle, dog clover and dog tansy being fairly common.

The reason for this prefix is perhaps best understood in references to the sweet violet, one of the most popular of our spring flowers and widely known for its lovely scent.

Its distinctive purple flowers can appear as early as January and they may be seen around this time, certainly well into the month of April.

Their heady fragrance has caused the flower to be the symbol of love, not only in Britain but overseas, especially in Greece. There it was called the Flower of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, and oil distilled from its petals is still used to make perfumes and flavourings.

By comparison, the common dog violet blooms later in this country, usually during the next couple of months, but its petals are much paler and it has no scent.

That is why it is called the dog violet – the term means inferior in some way. Dog roses are so-called because they grow wild and were considered of no worth, even if they are ancestors of the Tudor rose. Dog’s Mercury was always considered worthless, too, because it attracted midges. The prefix dog also suggested that certain plants were worthless as food, such as dog leek.

Despite all these derogatory insinuations, it is odd that down the centuries, humans have always considered the humble dog to be their best friend.