Shirt offer offended naked Hob!

In the countryside, hob refers to a male ferret or a small peg used in certain sports and games. The saying “playing hob” or “raising hob” can suggest mischief but in the North of England a hob is something else.

J.R.R. Tolkien’s hobbits are remarkably similar to the hobs of North Yorkshire and those recorded in more northern areas. In Tolkien’s imagination, a hobbit was a small human-like creature with hairy feet, and the name suggested something that lived in holes in the ground or which inhabited caves in cliffs.

Creatures resembling hobs appear in many folk tales, particularly in the northern hemisphere. In Denmark and Norway, a nisse was an elf-like creature that worked on farms. In Scotland, it was the brownie, in Germany the kobold, in Sweden the tomgubbe whilst Holland had its redcap. In other countries there were elves and imps, some areas of England having Puck along with goblins and hobgoblins.

Hobs were so much a part of North Yorkshire’s folklore that localities and places were named after them.

Examples include Hob Hole, Hob Hill, Hob Dale, Hob Thrush Grange, Hob Garth, Hob Plantation, Hob Cross and Hob’s Cave. There may be others.

It is difficult to ascertain when the belief in hobs first materialised. In early history there would be no written records and few during the medieval period. The stories would be repeated verbally with sufficient emphasis to suggest families had always harboured hobs; such stories would carry a strong hint of realism.

According to the Dictionary of English Folklore, the term “hob” is a shortened form of Robin or Robert, and may have implied a country bumpkin or stupid peasant. The Dictionary adds that the word “hob” was first used in this sense c. 1460 with hobgoblin and hobthrush appearing in the following century.

Perhaps the best known hob in Yorkshire was based at Hart Hall Farm, Glaisdale with one in Farndale and yet another on the coast at Runswick Bay. All were solitary dwarf-like creatures who lived and worked naked but covered with thick brown hair. They looked like miniature male humans and were renowned for their secretive hard work which they undertook with no thought of reward. Their tough tasks, some beyond the strength of humans, were always undertaken secretly during the night.

The only reward a hob would accept was a jug of fresh cream placed in a barn overnight; he would drink it in secret too.

When I was growing up in Glaisdale, I was very aware of the tale of the Hart Hall Hob which was often repeated in local newspapers and magazines. During the late 1940s I used to visit a school-friend who lived at Hart Hall; as we sat by the fire in this atmospheric old house, crickets would be chirping in the hearth whilst the day-to-day work of the family (with fourteen children) continued around them. But I never saw or heard a hob at work in the barns!

The Hob of Hart Hall was not cantankerous or mischievous like other hobs but was kindly and helpful to the resident family. He worked at midnight, always naked and his only reward was a jug of cream.

One story bears repetition. It concerned a loaded hay wagon whose wheel had wedged between two large stones on its way to the hay shed. The load was so heavy that the men could not free it. That would entail unloading it, a lengthy and tiring procedure, and as the team discussed how to deal with the problem, darkness descended. They decided to abandon the stricken load until morning, praying that it did not rain. And so they adjourned to their beds, very tired but determined to have an early start tomorrow when wagon must be freed.

Once everyone was asleep, the Hart Hall Hob began work. He unloaded the cart and freed the wheel.

He even took the hay to its destination and stacked it, then prepared the cart for its morning’s work – all done in secret.

However, there is a story of the Hart Hall Hob being unusually observed at work. It was a moonlit night in autumn. One of the live-in lads was returning after a night-out and heard the rhythmic sound of threshing with a flail. He peeped through the barn door and saw a little brown man covered with hair threshing the corn, rapidly reducing a pile of sheaves to corn and straw.

The lad told his colleagues who had a look. Because the hob was naked, they decided to find a new sark with which to wrap himself (summat ti hap hisself wiv). A sark is a rough working shirt. Their efforts produced a hessian working shirt with a belt around the middle. In the barn, they laid it out ready for the hob but it never occurred to them the might be insulted by this gesture and be upset that he had been spied upon. Fortunately, he was sweet tempered and when he realized he was being watched, he stopped to address the lads in their hiding place. He explained he always worked naked and must never accept a gift. These were his words:

Gin hob mun hae nowt but a hardin hamp

He’ll cum nae mair, nowther to berry nor stamp.

Hardin was a type of hessian while a hamp was a rough working shirt. Berry meant “to thresh” and stamp meant to knock off the beards of barley, prior to threshing it. Having delivered his speech to the lads, the hob left Hart Hall and was never seen or heard of again.

There is a wonderful old account in the local dialect, the words of an elderly lady.

“Yah moonleeght neeght, when they heard his swipple gannan wiv a strange quick bat on t’lathe fleear (ye ken he wad deea mair i’ yah neet than a’ t’men on t’farm iv a deea), yan o’ t’lads gat hissel croppen oot anenst l’lathe deear, an’ leeaked thruff a lahtle hole i’ t’booards an’ ‘e seen a lahtle brown man, a’ covered wi’ hair, spanging aboot wiv t’fleeal lahk yan wad.

He’d getten a haill dess o’ shaffs doon on t’fleear and My Wod! Ommost afore ye could tell ten, he had tonned oot t’streea, an’ sided away t’coorn, and was rife for another dess. He had neea cleeathes on ti speeak of and t’lad, he could see ‘at he had neea mak nor mander o’ duds bar an aud ragged soort o’ sark….”

And so the tale of the Hart Hall Hob continues to be told.