It’s the big one! Our Urban Mythbuster Amy Thompson throws a glittery grenade at Martin Taylor of the Hull History Centre but can he defuse it?

Jenny of HU4 asked this festive question. As usual, we have the Victorians to thank for the answer.

Wandering dangerously close to conspiracy theory territory, our ancient folk songs correspondent Angus Young may have been drinking.

“How about writing a Christmas special?” said Mr Curiosity as he took a sip of mulled wine before munching his way through yet another mince pie.

“Heard the one about a classic festive carol having a supposed link with Hull?” I ventured.

“Get writing lad!” he boomed through a mouthful of sweet mince and pastry.

In 1833 English lawyer and historian William Sandys published an anthology of traditional carols spanning more than 300 years which he had gathered from various sources, adding his own words to many. Among them was I Saw Three Ships which was first printed in the 17th century and is believed to be even older having started life as a sea shanty-style English folk song.

Still popular today, Sandys’ version tells the story of a fleet of vessels arriving in Bethlehem on Christmas Day carrying “Our Saviour Christ and His Lady”. However, it neatly skirts over the fact that land-locked Bethlehem is actually 26 miles from the nearest port. It also fails to explain why three ships were needed for just two VIP passengers. Sandys’ version is just one of many in existence. As fans will testify, one of folk music’s charms is the organic nature of many traditional songs featuring ever-changing lyrics over time.

Another version surfaced in 1895 as featured in A Garland of Country Songs, a book compiled by Anglican priest and folk song collector Sabine Baring-Gould. This one had been documented by artist Louis Davis, who provided the illustrations of the book, after hearing it sung by “the boatmen upon the Humber.” It’s not clear where or when London-based Davis came across these singing sailors but he reportedly had some difficulty understanding their local dialect. As a result, his transcript of the words refer to the ships carrying “three crawns (crowns)” and heading to “Koln on the Rhine”. As well as shifting the geography of the song to an unidentified port in Europe, it also ditches any reference to Christmas Day.

So what were the Humber boatmen singing about? One theory behind the song is that it refers to other characters in the Biblical Christmas story – the Magi, otherwise known as Three Wise Men or the Three Kings. Legend has it that having all conveniently died at the same time, their sacred bones were first kept in Constantinople and then Milan before being taken in 1164 to Cologne Cathedral where they remain today housed in a shrine. Back in the day a journey from Milan to Cologne would have either involved an arduous slog by foot over the Alps or a lengthy sea voyage via the Mediterranean and the Atlantic before entering the Rhine from the North Sea. If the latter happened, splitting the precious bones between three ships would have made sense from an insurance point of view.

As it was, this journey by sea seems to have eventually worked its way into traditional English folk music. According to legend, each Magi’s skull was topped off with a golden crown and these three crowns also feature in the coat of arms of the city Cologne. Sounds familiar? Yes, Hull’s official coat of arms also features three golden crowns having first been used here in the early 15th century.

One of several theories about their origin is the established trading links between Hull and Cologne in the Middle Ages leading to something of a copycat design being adopted for our own coat of arms. Did this connection also pave the way for a song to be passed down through the generations of local men of the sea?

Hull-born folk singers Paul and Liz Davenport included their own take on the so-called “Crawn variant” of I See Three Ships on their latest album Wait No Man. They even suggest the ships might have used the Humber to take shelter from a storm while en route to Cologne. If the ships did nip into the estuary, they didn’t sail into Hull as it didn’t really exist in 1164 although Hedon was a thriving port at the time and would have certainly provided safe harbour.

Now you might be thinking this is all a bit impossible to prove and you would be right. We’re talking about a 2,000-year-old Biblical story, an 860-year-old journey thousands of miles away and a 500-year-old folk song all being mashed together like a bad sherry trifle. Then there’s the late Alan Boyson’s epic Three Ships mosaic on the old Co-op store in the city centre. Now a Grade II listed structure and commonly believed to represent Hull’s fishing industry, is it really a re-telling the story of the Magi through one million cubes of coloured Italian glass?

Perhaps I’ve had one too many glasses of Mr Curiosity’s mulled wine. After all, when it comes to religion I’m firmly in the Monty Python camp. He’s not The Messiah, he’s a very naughty boy.

Happy Christmas everyone.

Angus Young

Editor’s Note: Angus has been sent for a lie down.

Before you walk in, you know exactly what you’re in for. But why? Our panto pals Middle Child explain that pantos are always the same for a very good reason.

Hull volunteer Janet takes us through the best things she’s experienced while giving her time for free.

Photographer and chronicler of Hull Dr Alec Gill discusses one of his most evocative pictures.

Before the bridge came along, people crossed the Humber in all sorts of ways. Our amphibious cushion-vehicle correspondent Angus Young finds out if anyone ever floated across.

The next historical evidence of boat crossings is included in King Edward II’s 1315 Royal Charter which granted consent for a ferry between Hull and the county of Lincolnshire to be “established and forever maintained” to carry “men, horses, carts, corn and other things.” The old king obviously didn’t foresee the opening of the Humber Bridge some 666 years later as it signalled the end of ferry crossings altogether.

The coal-fired paddle steamers made redundant by the bridge sailed between Hull’s Victoria Pier and New Holland for 40 years and remain a fond memory for many. Less well-remembered are the rival hovercraft services which briefly operated across the estuary in 1969.

Humber Hoverlink Services Ltd. was first to launch, promising “A New Exciting Way to cross the Humber” (their capital letters, not mine) in adverts for the Hoverlink service. Offering “Regular passenger and parcel services”, the Hoverlink operated between Victoria Pier and Grimsby Docks completing the journey in around 30 minutes. Soon a rival hovercraft service run by Humber Hoverferry Ltd entered the fray, also running between Hull and Grimsby. A bit like buses, local hovercraft fans had waited nearly 30 years since they were invented only for two to come along at once.

However, the flimsy craft didn’t last long. The Humber is notorious for the debris it carries, including old trees washed several miles down the estuary, and these floating hazards often whipped along at speed on fast tides would often cause damage to the hovercrafts. Even berthing at the pier in Hull or against the stone dock walls in Grimsby could be enough to rip their vulnerable skirts while high winds and the Humber’s tidal currents also caused headaches for the hovercraft crews. Unable to carry large numbers of passengers compared to the sturdier ferries, financial problems added to their mechanical unreliability and within a year both services ceased. While astronauts were starting to travel to the Moon, the age of the hovercraft on the Humber was over.

For a few years, those still wanting to experience a flight could take a hovercraft ride along Cleethorpes beach at low tide while the occasional pleasure trip on the Humber was also organised, although whether they were actually pleasurable is a moot point. As one Hoverlink passenger later recalled: “We went on one of its early outings. It was an OK journey but nothing to write home about but the return journey was one of the most awful and uncomfortable experiences I’ve ever had. We were travelling against the tide and it bounced up and down so much I thought I was going to be sick. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t enjoy that journey back.”

Angus Young

The stories rarely relate to the festive period, so how come they’re always associated with Christmas? Our panto partners Middle Child got their thinking caps on.

This question was asked by Sheila from HU16. We didn’t think bears were of much concern to people in Cottingham, but it seems they are.

Burnsy talks gig-theatre, panto, money and how plays get made with Jamie Potter, who is the Audience Development Manager for Hull-based theatre company Middle Child.