Giant

In the medieval period the priest of the parish of St Germans was called Dando. Dando was not a figure of priestly virtue but abused his powers to enjoy earthly delights.

He was not pretty to look upon, and his vices were reflected in his potbelly and his fat red face. His chief pleasures were good food, copious quantities of wine, the pleasure of the ladies of the town, and the drunken company of the more unsavoury parishioners.

The one thing that he valued above these delights was hunting, and whenever he had the chance he could be found riding with his friends, more often than not inebriated on wine and ale.

One Autumn Sunday, as the leaves where beginning to brown, he gathered around him a troop of thirty people and set out on a hunt. As usual they saw no barriers to their roaming, trampling crops, breaking fences, and crossing boundaries where they passed.

In time they rode into the bleak moorland, which surrounds the parish, and were joined by a dark stranger, who seemed to appear from out of the mist. He did not speak or acknowledge any of the men but easily rode past the front horseman and Dando.

Some time later Dando shouted for the company to stop, he was in need of ale, and the men and dogs were tired after such a long day. They halted in the middle of an open moorland, and the servants set about laying the days catch upon the floor.

Dando Bellowed for drink but a servant replied that there was none, he had quaffed the last drop that very afternoon.

"No drink" Dando roared in drunken bravado, "I shall have drink if I have to go to hell for it."