The t.i.tle of this chapter sufficiently indicates that the legends and superst.i.tions intended to be dealt with are far from including all which might be mentioned; indeed not a t.i.the of those which are still well known in the two counties can here be touched upon. Mr. Whitfield, M.P., in an address in West c.u.mberland over thirty years ago,[13] said that the superst.i.tions in the Border country concerning fairies and brownies were more developed, and the belief in spells and enchantments more common than in many other parts of the country. The various circ.u.mstances attending the growth of those beliefs led to the conclusion that in the Middle Ages religion as then taught did not exercise any great influence on the Border. Though monasteries were founded on each side of the Border as some protection against the desolations of war, the English did not scruple to ravage the Scottish monasteries during an invasion, and the Scotch treated with corresponding violence the English foundations. At the time of the Reformation the Border was probably the most ignorant and barbarous district in England.

There is a pretty legend pertaining to St. Bees, which is supposed to have derived its name from St. Bega, an Irish nun, who came to c.u.mberland about the middle of the seventh century, and, with her sisters, was wrecked near to the headland. "In her distress she went to the Lady of Egremont Castle for relief, and obtained a place of residence at St. Bees. Afterwards she asked Lady Egremont to beg of her lord to build them a house, and they with others would lead a religious life together. With this the Lady Egremont was well pleased, and she asked the lord to grant them some land.

The lord laughed at the lady, and said he would give them as much land as snow fell upon 'the next morning in Midsummer Day.' On the next morning he looked out from the castle towards the sea, and all the land for about three miles was covered with snow."[14]

Another tradition a.s.sociated with West c.u.mberland is that at Kirksanton.

There is a basin, or hollow, in the surface of the ground, a.s.signed as a place where once stood a church that was swallowed up by the earth opening, and then closing over it bodily. It used to be believed by the country people that on Sunday mornings the bells could be heard far down in the earth, by the simple expedient of placing the ear to the ground. A very similar legend was, in a magazine in 1883, recorded of Fisherty Brow, Kirkby Lonsdale:--"There is a curious kind of natural hollow scooped out, where, ages ago, a church, parson, and congregation were swallowed up by the earth. Ever since this terrible affair it is a.s.serted that the church bells have been regularly heard to ring every Sunday morning."

If an old tradition is to be believed, one of the most conspicuous land-marks in the north of England should be regarded as a memorial, so far as its name goes. The story is that the cross was planted, by pious hands, in the early days of Christianity, on the summit or table land of the chain of mountains which bounds the eastern side of c.u.mberland, separately known by different names along their range, but collectively called Cross Fell. At any rate, whether or not it takes its name from its transverse situation to the common run of the immense ridge, this tradition, as the Rev. B. Porteus has remarked, "is preferable to another which traces its derivative to a cross erected for the purpose of dislodging the aerial demons which were once thought to possess these desolate regions, and gave it the name of the Fiend's Fell." But the cyclone (the Helm Wind) and the sending for holy men to Canterbury to exorcise "the demon" supports the derivation. Alston Church is dedicated to St. Augustine. Some say the bodies of Christians who had died in the heathen eastern districts were brought "Cross t' Fell" to be buried in the consecrated land of the primitive Christians of c.u.mberland and Westmorland.

There is a tradition that an attempt was made time after time to build a church in what is known as Jackson's Park, Arlecdon, but as often as begun in the day it was destroyed in the night by some unknown and invisible hand. Eventually the attempt was abandoned, and the church built in its present position. Then there is the familiar legend connected with the building of the Devil's Bridge at Kirkby Lonsdale. There are several versions of the erection of this structure, and as one is just as likely to be wrong as another, the story told by Mr. Speight[15] may be quoted: "The bridge was built by his Satanic Majesty, according to a compact made between himself and a poor woman who wished to recover her cow which had strayed at low water to the opposite side of the river, but could not do so without the convenient means of a bridge. And so the King of Evil agreed to erect a bridge on condition that he should have the first living thing that crossed. He knew very well of her husband's coming home from market, and hoped to make good booty. But the cunning woman was equal to the occasion. Seeing the approach of her husband on the opposite hill, she concealed a scraggy, half-starved dog under her ap.r.o.n, and letting it sniff a bone, suddenly tossed the latter over the fine, new made viaduct, and the dog at once bounding after it, she stepped back, and raising her fingers in a vindictive, and certainly most unbecoming manner, l.u.s.tily exclaimed,

'Now, crafty Sir, the bargain was That you should have what first did pa.s.s Across the bridge--so now, alas!

The dog's your right.

The Cheater cheated, struck with shame, Squinted and grinned, then in a flame He vanished quite.'"

At least two legends have come down to us of the days of the wolves. A lady belonging to the Lucy family--the great territorial lords of West c.u.mberland--was one evening walking near to Egremont Castle when she was devoured by a wolf at a place afterwards marked by a stone cairn, and known as Woful Bank. The name of Wotobank is given to a place in the parish of Beckermet. The story here is that Edgar, a lord of Beckermet, and his lady, Edwina, and servants, were at one time hunting the wolf.

"During the chase the lord missed his lady, and after a long and painful search the party at last found her body lying on the hill, or bank, slain by a wolf, with the ravenous beast still in the act of tearing it to pieces. In the first transports of his grief, the words that the distressed husband first uttered were, 'Woe to this Bank'--a phrase since altered and applied to the place as 'Wotobank.'" Another wolf legend of a somewhat similar character is attached to a well called Lady's Dub, at Ulpha.

What can only be described as legends--for as to their authenticity it would perhaps not be wise to inquire too closely--belong to the fortunes of several estates in the two counties. One of the owners of Warth.e.l.l (or Warthol) Hall, in the parish of Plumbland, was notorious for his pa.s.sion for card-playing--a form of amus.e.m.e.nt, by the way, which probably for more than two hundred years has been a favourite among all cla.s.ses in the two counties. The Lord of Warth.e.l.l, Mr. d.y.k.es, one evening lost a large sum, and was face to face with ruin. Growing desperate, he determined to risk all on a single game of putt, and at the last deal cried,

"Up, now deuce, or else a tray, Or Warth.e.l.l's gone for ever and aye."

While it would perhaps be unjust even to suggest that the people of c.u.mberland and Westmorland are now more superst.i.tious than those of other counties, it is nevertheless a fact that many curious beliefs prevailed in the country districts long after they had ceased in other places. The faith in the efficacy of charms has even yet not died away. Toothache has long been a favourite medium for testing the skill of the charmer and the faith of the sufferer. The Rev. H. J. Bulkeley, then rector of Lanercost, who spent much time in collecting records of the old and fleeting beliefs, told in 1885 how the toothache charm was worked. "A boy suffering from toothache was taken to an old blacksmith, who prodded the decayed tooth with a rusty nail; blindfolded the boy, led him into a wood, and, taking the bandage off his eyes, made him hammer the nail into a young oak; blindfolded him again, and led him out, making him promise not to try and find the tree or tell anyone of it. And that tooth never ached any more!"

Another method was to rub, with a stone, the part affected, the operation taking place soon after sunset. While performing the rubbing, the charmer muttered an incantation which does not seem to have been preserved in print, although it is doubtless well known in the country districts.

Fairies have given place to more material creations, but the faith in the "little folk" has not died out, and even yet occasionally the dairy-maid may be seen furtively to put a pinch of salt in the fire at churning time, "so that t' fairies mayn't stop t' b.u.t.ter frae comin'." The rowan-tree branch used to be placed above doorways to keep away evil influences throughout the north of England, and in the Lake Country the stick used for stirring the cream to counteract the bewitching of the churn is still frequently made of rowan or mountain ash wood.

Among the old superst.i.tions is that of the death strokes:--

"As with three strokes above the testered bed The parting spirit of its tenant fled."

The opinion once very commonly prevailed that shortly before the coming of the last summons three distinct raps were heard on the wall immediately over the bed head. This, of course, was nothing more than the noise made by a small worm when trying to bore itself a pa.s.sage through the decayed woodwork where it had been bred.

"Telling the bees" is a custom in several parts of the country, and is still believed in by some of the old people of these counties. When a death occurred in a household where bees were kept it was deemed desirable for some one to acquaint the occupants of the hives with the fact, and also to tell them on the day of the funeral that the corpse was about to be lifted. The late Mr. W. d.i.c.kinson, who by his "c.u.mbriana,"

"Reminiscences," and "Glossary," did much to preserve a knowledge of old-time life in the county, said the last case of "telling the bees"

which came to his knowledge was at Asby, near Arlecdon, in 1855. To miss taking the doleful news to the bees was held to be a certain way of bringing ill-luck to the house.

Supposed miracle workers have not been lacking. About the middle of the fourteenth century the abbot and canons of Shap had licence from Bishop Kirkby to remove the body of Isabella, wife of William Langley, their parishioner, famed for having miracles done by it, to some proper place within the church or churchyard of Shap, that the reliques might be reverenced by the people with freer and greater devotion.

"Boggles" have been common in all parts of the two counties; needless to say the dreadful apparitions when inquired about in a careful manner have invariably proved to be very commonplace and harmless creatures or articles. "Boggle" is a Norse word, sometimes equal to personification of diety or saint. Natural phenomena, as _ignis fatuus_, account for some; the mist-mirage explains others. The mist is still called "the haut" (the haunt). Witches, too, have abounded--according to report,--and some were drowned, or otherwise persecuted because of their evil repute. Mary Baynes, the witch of Tebay, died in 1811, aged ninety. She has been described as a repulsive looking woman, with a big pocket tied upon her back, and she was blamed for witching people's churns, geese, and goslings, so that on account of her witchcraft she became a terror to her neighbours. Many strange things which happened were laid to her charge, and thoroughly believed by the people. Ned Sisson, of the "Cross Keys Inn," had a mastiff which worried old Mary's favourite cat. The owner decided to have the grimalkin respectably buried in her garden, and a man named Willan dug a grave for it. Old Mary handed Willan an open book, and pointed to something he was to read. But Willan, not thinking it worth while to read anything over a cat, took p.u.s.s.y by the leg, and said:

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Here's a hole, and in thou must."

Mary grew angry, and warned her companion that he would fare no better for his levity. Soon afterwards Willan was ploughing in his field when the implement suddenly bounded up, and the handle struck one of his eyes, causing blindness. Immediately Mary Baynes was given the credit for having bewitched the plough. The old lady seems to have tried her hand also at prophesy. Once when the scholars of Tebay School were out playing, Mary predicted to them that some day carriages would run over Loupsfell without the aid of horses. The railway now goes over a portion of the land to which she referred, which was then a large stinted pasture. The best known other "witch" was "Lizzie o' Branton," otherwise Lizzy Batty, a remarkable woman, who, in the early years of this century, occupied a cottage on the roadside between Brampton and Talkin. She acted in a peculiar manner, dressed curiously, and generally "acted the part," with the consequence that she was credited with many supernatural powers. She died in 1817, at the age of eighty-eight. The date of her funeral in Brampton was for long years remembered as the stormiest day the town had ever seen. Although it was in March, yet darkness came on so suddenly that lanterns were lighted at the grave-side, only to be again and again extinguished by the fury of the tempest. A tradition still lingers that those who bore the coffin to the grave solemnly affirmed that it was empty and the body gone.

The belief in the "barguest," now practically gone, was in comparatively recent times common enough to excite but little notice. The term was generally used to denote any kind of ghostly visitant, but referred more particularly to a fearsome creation which was supposed to haunt the fells and dales, and make a horrible noise. Mr. B. Kirkby, in his "Lakeland Words" (1899), gives the definition as known in North Westmorland: "One who has the power of foretelling the demise of others; or one who makes a great din." Mr. Anthony Whitehead says, "A barguest is a spirit known only through the sense of hearing, being a something which, during the dark hours of night, disturbed the last generations of Westmorland with its awful howling."

There is no lack of ghostly traditions in connection with families.

Perhaps the best known is that belonging to the ancient family of Mach.e.l.l, of Crackenthorpe Hall, near Appleby. Lancelot Mach.e.l.l--the same who in open court tore to pieces Cromwell's new charter for Appleby--married Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Sleddall, of Penrith. Her portrait was found on a panel in Penrith some years ago. She was executrix of her husband's will, and for some alleged injury to her interest in the estate it used to be said that she paid the Mach.e.l.ls ghostly visitations whenever the head of the family was about to die. The country folk used to say that she is laid under the big stone called Peg's Stone, just below Crackenthorpe Hall, her term of incarceration being 999 years. They also say she has been seen driving along the Appleby road at a great pace with "amber leets" in the carriage, and disappear suddenly in Mach.e.l.l Wood, near the spot called Peg Sneddle's Trough. Indeed, there is extant a most graphic and brilliant account of her pa.s.sage of the Tollbar at Crackenthorpe, narrated by one "Brockham d.i.c.k" (Richard Atkinson, of the "Elephant Inn"), now many years deceased, who kept the gate in his youth, and who used to stick to it with much detail of thrilling circ.u.mstance, how one night in each year, when the "helm" wind was blowing, Mrs. Mach.e.l.l made her appearance and pa.s.sed this gate in offended state. When storms come on upon the fell, Peg is said to be angry, and _vice versa_ in fine weather.

An old tree in the neighbourhood of Crackenthorpe called Sleddall's Oak, is also a.s.sociated with Mrs. Mach.e.l.l's name, and here a female figure is supposed to be seen to sit and weep when any misfortune is about to befall any member of the Mach.e.l.l family.

When farmers find disease among their cattle, whether it be tuberculosis, pleuro-pneumonia, or other undesirable visitation, they no longer pin their faith to the old-time observances. The progress of science has shown better methods of dealing with the disease, and now the stock owners of the northern counties would be the first to ridicule the means taken by their grandfathers for stopping an outbreak. The "needfire," which has been witnessed by many people who are not yet old, was probably the last remnant of fire-worship in this country. "It was once," says Mr. Sullivan, "an annual observance, and is still occasionally employed in the dales and some other localities as a charm for the various diseases to which cattle are liable. All the fires in the village are carefully put out--a deputation going round to each house to see that not a spark remains. Two pieces of wood are then ignited by friction, and within the influence of the fire thus kindled, the cattle are brought. The scene is one of dire bellowing and confusion: but the owner is especially anxious that his animals should get 'plenty of the reek.' The charm being ended in one village, may be transferred to the next, and thus propagated as far as it is required."

Miss Martineau, in her "Guide to the Lakes," tells a story of a certain farmer who, "When all his cattle had been pa.s.sed through the fire, subjected an ailing wife to the same potent charm." The last time the "needfire" was used in the Keswick neighbourhood, Mr. William Wilson says, was in 1841. In some parts of c.u.mberland and Westmorland there was then an epidemic amongst the cattle. It was brought over the Raise and transferred from farm to farm through the vales. But, at one farm a few miles out of Keswick, the sacred fire was allowed to become extinct, the owner, a well-known statesman, not having sufficient faith in its virtue to take the trouble to transmit it, or even to keep it alight. He told Mr.

Wilson that he was severely rated at the time for his lack of faith. That, however, served to kill the popular belief in needfire, and even when the terrible ravages of the rinderpest, foot and mouth disease, and pleuro-pneumonia, were emptying the pockets and breaking the hearts of the farmers, not one of them thought of reviving the old "cure." The last time, so far as the writer can find, the practice was reported in the newspapers was this paragraph in the _Patriot_ of July 25th, 1834:--"A sort of murrain, or pestilential fever, is at present prevalent in the county of Westmorland, the popular remedy for which is the fumigation of the infected animals with the smoke of needfire, accompanied by certain mystic signs." The Rev. J. Wharton, however, well remembers the fire being made at Long Marton about 1843-4, during a murrain. The term "needfire" seems to be a corruption of "neatfire," neat cattle being an old and common term.

Among the legends relating to North-Country residences, an interesting one is concerning Corby Castle and its "Radiant Boy." This--which corresponds to the "corpse lichten" of other countries--has been described as a luminous apparition which made its appearance with dire results, the tradition being that the member of the family who saw the "Radiant Boy"

would rise to great power, and afterwards die a violent death. The only example in proof of the tradition so far made known, however, was that of Lord Castlereagh. That statesman was given a wide margin of time after seeing the spectre, as that was supposed to have happened when he was a young man, and he did not commit suicide until 1822.

The superst.i.tion as to the skulls at Calgarth, Windermere, has several parallels. Those two skulls formerly occupied a niche in Calgarth Hall, from which they could not be kept for any long time, though they were reputed to attend the banquets at Armboth Hall, Thirlmere, of their own accord! Above all, "they were buried, burned, reduced to powder, dispersed by the wind, sunk in the well, and thrown into the lake several times, all to no purpose"--truly wonderful skulls!

The superst.i.tion concerning "first-foot" has not yet died out; but the observance is not regarded with that seriousness which ruled half a century ago, and to the next generation, probably, this ancient New Year's custom and belief will have become part of the history of the bygone.

Four Lucks.

Closely a.s.sociated with the legends of c.u.mberland and Westmorland, dealt with in the preceding chapter, are the stories of four "Lucks." The best known is that of Eden Hall, which has been made the theme for poems and innumerable descriptive articles. The most popular version of the origin of the Luck is that when a servant was going for water one night to the Fairy Well, in front of the hall he surprised a number of fairies at their revels, with the goblet in the centre of the ring around which they were dancing. The servant seized the Luck, while the fairies gave the ominous warning that

"If this cup should break or fall, Farewell the luck of Eden Hall."

Numerous poets have woven pretty stories out of the tradition, without attempting to seek the real origin of the treasured possession. The Luck is an ancient gla.s.s vessel widening by an easy curve, and terminating in a graceful lip. Its colour is green, with enamel of red, yellow, and blue; one theory is that its origin was Saracenic, and that it was brought from Palestine by a member of the family during the Crusades. Dr. Todd, when Vicar of Penrith, supposed it to have "been used as a chalice, at a time when it was unsafe to have those sacred vessels made of costlier metals, on account of the predatory habits which prevailed on the Borders." If absolute care can preserve it, the Luck is safe, for along with its leathern case, adorned with vine leaves, and having the sacred monogram "I.H.S." on the top, the Luck is rarely taken from its place of security--said to be one of the strong rooms of the Bank of England.

Whenever the Luck is exhibited to privileged visitors at the hall, the utmost precautions are taken to prevent even the slightest accident.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 1.--ANCIENT GLa.s.s VESSEL CALLED THE LUCK OF EDEN HALL.

2.--ITS LEATHER CASE.

3.--INSCRIPTION ON THE TOP OF THE CASE.]

"The Luck of Muncaster" is reputed to have been the gift of Henry the Sixth, who stayed for a brief s.p.a.ce with the Penningtons, either in 1461 or 1464. The King was in sore straits, for death had robbed him of the service of many of his most powerful adherents; howbeit he still held the affections of large numbers of people in c.u.mberland and Westmorland. The owner of Muncaster was one of those able and willing to stand by Henry in his necessity, and kept the King in safety. The room in which the monarch slept is still preserved with great care; he rested in a carved oak bedstead, which bears his initials and a crown. At parting Henry gave to Sir John Pennington a gla.s.s cup or basin, about seven inches in diameter, ornamented with some gold and white enamelled mouldings, with--according to tradition--the a.s.surance that "the family shall prosper so long as they preserve this cup unbroken." It is unnecessary to do more than mention that this Luck has been celebrated in verse, by way of ill.u.s.trating the evil designs of a kinsman who desired to destroy both the cup and the fortunes of the Penningtons.

That such a treasured relic should have more than normal risks of misfortune can be well understood. Mr. Roby has mentioned[16] one of its escapes. "The benediction attaching to its security being then uppermost in the recollection of the family, it was considered essential to the prosperity of the house, at the time of the usurpation, that the Luck of Muncaster should be deposited in a safe place. It was consequently buried till the cessation of hostilities had rendered all further care and concealment unnecessary." The box was allowed to fall when being brought again to the surface, which so scared the owners that they fancied that there would be a sudden end to their prosperity. The fright must have been of long duration, for the story is that forty years elapsed ere one daring member of the family, having seen no ill effects from the fall, had the box opened, and experienced the keen delight of finding the Luck uninjured. In the castle are two paintings, one representing the King giving the cup to Sir John Pennington, and another allowing the King with the Luck in his hand. On an old freestone slab in Muncaster Church is the inscription, "Holie Kynge Harrye gave Sir John a brauve workyd gla.s.s cuppe ... whyllys the famylie shold keep hit unbrecken thei shold gretelye thrif."

"The Luck of Burrell Green," near Great Salkeld, seems to have pa.s.sed into the possession of various owners. It is an ancient bra.s.s dish of early embossed work, sixteen and a quarter inches in diameter, and one and a half inches deep. Mr. J. Lamb, formerly of Burrell Green, read a paper on the subject two or three years ago to the members of the Archaeological Society, and also exhibited the dish. It is circular in form, and at one time appears to have borne two inscriptions, one in large old English letters in an inner circle around its central ornament, and the other in an outer circle, probably in the same style of lettering. Neither inscription is now legible, although on close examination certain letters may still be discerned, this being due, no doubt, to the amount of cleaning and rubbing it has undergone during late years. Thirty years ago, when greater care was taken of the Luck than has since been the case, and the inscription on the inner circle was rather more distinct than it now is, Mr. R. M. Bailey, a London antiquary, tried to decipher it, and was of opinion that it was in Latin, of which the following is a rendering: "Hail, Mary, Mother of Jesus, Saviour of Men." Like the two other Lucks in c.u.mberland, the Luck of Burrell Green has its legend and couplet. This is that it was given to the family residing there long ago by a "n.o.b i' th'

hurst," or by a witch, a soothsayer, to whom kindness had been shown, with the injunction that

"If e'er this dish be sold or gi'en Farewell the Luck of Burrell Green."

The Luck has been in the possession of the respective families residing at Burrell Green for many generations, but its existence has not been brought very much before the public. In 1879 the late Mr. Jacob Thompson, of Hackthorpe, made a painting of the Luck. Mr. Lamb added:

"Apart from the value of the Luck as an example of ancient art, it may be said to be still more valuable from the mysterious tradition a.s.sociated with it, and also as appears very probable from the rendering of the supposed inscription in the sacred use to which in all probability it has at some time been applied. From the style of the inscriptions it appears to be of as early a date as the commencement of the sixteenth century, or probably earlier. On the day Burrell Green last changed owners the Luck fell down three times in succession from its usual position, a circ.u.mstance which at that time had not been known to have occurred before, it always having been kept in a secure place."