EDITED BY 
 
 MARY DOW D ALL 
 
 AND 
 
 E.T.CAMPAGNAC
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 5 
 
 
 T
 
 TIME TABLE OF 
 MODERN HISTORY 
 
 A.D. 400-1870 
 
 Compiled and arranged by M. MORISON, with the 
 assistance of R. S. Rait, M.A., Fellow of New College, 
 Oxford. 
 
 Oblong Folio. Cloth. 8s. 6d. net. 
 
 Contents : — Parallel Tables. Genealogical Tables. Ruling Monarchs. 
 General Chart of Ancient and Modern History. Index. Maps 
 showing Europe at various periods. 
 
 The Athencruvi, — "This book has certainly shown that it deserves to be published." 
 
 Notes and Queries. — " A work which every student of modern history ought to have 
 at hand." 
 
 EDITED BY SIR G. L. GOMME 
 
 THE 
 
 ROYAL STORY BOOKS 
 
 Historical Stories collected out of English Romantic 
 Literature in illustration of the Reigns of English 
 Monarchs from the Conquest to Queen Victoria. In 
 4 vols. 
 
 Crown Svo. 3s. 6d. each. Sold separately. 
 
 The King's Story Book. Illustrated by 
 Harrison Miller. 
 
 The Queen's Story Book. Illustrated by 
 W. H. Robinson. 
 
 The Prince's Story Book. Illustrated by 
 H. S. Banks. 
 
 The Princess's Story Book. Illustrated by 
 Helen Stratton.
 
 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS
 
 POETRY AND TEACHING 
 
 BY 
 
 E. T. CAMPAGNAC 
 
 Professor of Education in the University of Liverpool, and 
 late H.M. Inspector of Schools. 
 
 Crown Svo. 1s. net. 
 
 This little volume consists of a series of Four Lectures concerned with the 
 Teaching of Poetry. The author addresses his book in particular to beginners 
 and young teachers as a general and preliminary account of the scope and 
 method of the study of Poetry. These little talks should be widely read and 
 very generally appreciated, for they give in a pleasant and interesting manner 
 some much needed information and advice. Professor Campagnac particularly 
 insists upon the necessity that young teachers should ask themselves what de- 
 mands the teaching of any subject is likely to make upon them, and his small 
 treatise is in some measure a reply to such questions and a guide to their 
 ultimate solution. 
 
 Preface. 
 Part I. 
 Part II. 
 Pari III. 
 Part IV. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Meaning o? Poetry. 
 A Poet's Preparation for His Work. 
 A Poet's Preparation for His Work. 
 Poetry and Teaching. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 2s. 6d. net per Vol. 
 THE WESTMINSTER SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S PLAYS 
 
 NOW READY. VOLUME I. 
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Arranged for reading by 
 
 J. W. MACKAIL, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 Formerly Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford. 
 
 With a full Glossary of obsolete or unfamiliar Words and Phrases. 
 
 An ideal edition for young readers of Shakespeare's Works, and indispensable 
 
 to all Students and Teachers and for Shakespearian Reading Societies. 
 
 THIS edition of Shakespeare's plays is meant to place them before ordinary readers in the 
 
 simplest possible form, for use and' enjoyment The plays are primed so as to show quite 
 
 clearly what persons take part in each scene and who is speaking at each moment. The 
 
 natory matter is so printed thai it cannot be mixe I up with Shakespeare's own text, but 
 
 tli part of that text to which it applies, Its object is to give all explanation of 
 
 lyment, without the burden and distraction ol ■> 
 commentar I :,akespeare il il i ctions are scanty, and often 
 
 incorrect, im .sleading. Modem plays, on thi othei bind, are often printed with a 
 
 sc t ol ectkms" in the full sense of the term ; with full directions, that is to say, for 
 
 the furnishing of the stage of the theatre in each scene. What is done here is nothing of the 
 
 intelligible, 
 
 I rom these hi Ip . in i i the text it .It, each readei will form a picture in 
 
 his or her own mind. 
 
 In order t" obviate the need of reference to a dictionary, there is at the end of i 
 volume a glossary of words or phrases in the te> t of the play which have become obsolete, 
 or have materially changed their meaning, or are so unfamiliar that they require to be 
 explained if a passage is to be understood. 
 
 I ondon: CONSTABLE & COMPANY LTD., ■ Orangi St, Leicester Square, W.C.
 
 LANCASHIRE 
 LEGENDS 
 
 SELECTED FROM 
 
 ROBY'S "TRADITIONS OF LANCASHIRE" 
 
 AND EDITED BY 
 
 MARY DOWDALL 
 
 AND 
 
 E. T. CAMPAGNAC 
 
 LONDON 
 CONSTABLE & CO., LTD. 
 
 191 1
 
 69. 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Roby's Traditions of Lancashire, from which the 
 stones included in this volume have been taken, 
 originally appeared in two parts : the first in 1829, 
 the second in 183 1. In each part were twenty tales. 
 The book was received with interest and even with 
 enthusiasm, and further editions, enlarged by some 
 fresh tales, were called for and produced. 
 
 The writer was a Lancashire man, proud of his 
 county, as Lancashire people are apt to be. Lan- 
 cashire stands apart and distinct from the rest of 
 England, and her sons and daughters cherish her 
 isolation. Strong, resolute, hard, they are fitly 
 placed in a district which gives back to them the 
 image of themselves, — an image with which, looking 
 upon it without criticism, they are for the most part 
 content. Roby, too, was content : he recognised 
 and highly valued the characteristics which are con- 
 spicuous in the people and the place ; but he looked 
 with a more intent and affectionate scrutiny than is 
 commonly bestowed, and discovered other qualities 
 not inconsistent with these, though often in vulgar 
 thought dissociated from them. He found that 
 strength is the fruit of a deep and disciplined emo- 
 tion, that resolution and idealism are akin, and that 
 hardness is, or may be, the cloak assumed with 
 natural artifice to cover a delicate sensibility. In a 
 
 V
 
 vi PREFACE 
 
 word, he caught the sentiment and revealed the 
 romance of Lancashire, and Lancashire people lis- 
 tened to him readily. He exhibited to them a jewel 
 which was their own, flashing with a brilliant, with 
 a mysterious light, and they delighted in their trea- 
 sure. Solid folk are ever ready to credit a man who 
 shows them to themselves, and illustrates, besides 
 the qualities which they agree to call sterling, others 
 of a more spiritual nature, of which they had not 
 been aware in their own hearts, or else were splen- 
 didly reticent. It is true that Roby saw this jewel 
 in its setting, shining more vividly there. The 
 county has, indeed, a plain face with harsh features, 
 though with unsuspected beauty hidden to all but 
 keen eyes ; but the beauty is there as surely as the 
 ugliness, and Roby saw both and rendered both in 
 his stories. 
 
 The book is now but little known even amongst 
 those who might most confidently be expected to 
 know it well. The rapid development of towns 
 with their industries and manufactures has largely 
 altered the aspect of the country. This is already 
 in many respects a different Lancashire from that on 
 which Roby gazed ; and if men have been able to 
 work vast changes upon its natural form, how much 
 more easily have they destroyed and obliterated the 
 less enduring memorials of their ancestors, setting 
 their hands to undo the handiwork of those who 
 went before them. Yet though much is changed, all 
 is not changed. In the life which Roby describes, 
 and with his patient and loving description revives, 
 the roots of the Lancashire of to-day are set ; in that 
 soil it finds its best nourishment. For romance is at
 
 PREFACE vii 
 
 the heart of every generous people, and romance is 
 the touchstone of reality. 
 
 Our hope in preparing this volume has been to 
 bring back to Lancashire people a portion of a book 
 which ought, we believe, to be familiar to them. 
 We have not hesitated to abridge many passages 
 and to recast others. Roby's style, generally digni- 
 fied and even beautiful at times, is often too slow 
 and too diffuse : he uses too many words, and his 
 words are frequently too long. We have thought 
 that even for studious and leisurely readers the 
 stories might gain point and power if they were 
 made shorter ; and we have had it, as part of our 
 ambition, to attract readers, who being young may 
 be neither studious nor leisurely ; and these we 
 trust will forgive us for what we have done, and 
 thank Roby for what he did long ago. 
 
 M. D. 
 E. T. C.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Clithekoe Castle 
 
 i 
 
 Mab's Cross, Wigan 
 
 • • 38 
 
 The Abbot of Whalley 
 
 • • 63 
 
 The Haunted Casket 
 
 • • 85 
 
 The Fairies' Chapel 
 
 in 
 
 The Goblin Builders 
 
 • 134
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 CLITHEROE. (From an old print) . . . Frontispiece 
 
 Mab's Cross .... Facingpage 38 
 The Bradshaigh Tomb . . . „ 60 
 
 The Dormitory, Whallev Abbey . „ 82
 
 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 
 
 It was midnight, and the priest was chanting the 
 service and requiem for the dead in the little chapel 
 or chantry of St. Michael, which stood within the 
 walls of Cliderhow or Clitheroe Castle, one of the 
 chief residences of the Lacys. Built at first as 
 a refuge from the incursions of the Scots, it had 
 been gradually enlarged, and a high wall added, 
 to enclose the keep and other buildings besides the 
 Chapel of St. Michael, where by a licence from the 
 Dean of Whalley, divine service was performed and 
 sacraments administered to the household servants, 
 foresters, and shepherds who occupied these domains. 
 In this little sanctuary now lay the remains of 
 Robert de Lacy, the last of this illustrious race, 
 fourth in descent from Gilbert de Lacy, on whom 
 the Conqueror bestowed the great fee of Ponte- 
 fract, the owner of 28 manors, and lord of the hon- 
 our of Clitheroe. With him ended the male line 
 of the great family whose power had so wide a 
 grasp that it was said that the Lacys might pass 
 from Clitheroe to their fortress at Pontefract, a 
 journey of some fifty miles, and rest in a hostelry 
 of their own at every pause during their progress.
 
 2 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Being childless he had devised all these vast estates 
 to Audrey, his sister, married to Richard Fitz-Eus- 
 tace, lord of Halton, and constable of Chester. Thus 
 ended the last of the race, and the inheritance had 
 passed to a stranger. 
 
 No tidings had been heard from Fitz-Eustace at 
 Halton, and in two days the body was to be carried 
 forth on its last pilgrimage to Kirkstall Abbey, 
 founded by Henry de Lacy, father of the deceased. 
 Oliver de Worsthorn, the old seneschal, knelt at 
 the foot of the bier. The surrounding worshippers 
 were mostly domestics and retainers of the family, 
 save Robert de Whalley, the dean of the ancient 
 church, who had attended as chief mourner. Being 
 descended from a distant branch of the Lacys he 
 had long thrown a covetous glance towards the in- 
 heritance. 
 
 It was then the beginning of February, the year 
 i 1 93, when Richard Cceur de Lion had been 
 treacherously captured by the Duke of Austria, and 
 his brother John had usurped the throne. The best 
 of England's nobility had perished on the deserts 
 of Palestine, or were pining there in hopeless cap- 
 tivity, and amongst them had been many from the 
 house of Fitz-Eustace, into whose possession the 
 estates of the Lacys were now merged. 
 
 Richard Fitz-Eustace, the husband of Audrey, had 
 died about fifteen years earlier, leaving one son, 
 John, who founded the Cistercian Abbey of Stanlaw, 
 Cheshire, and was slain in the crusade, leaving two 
 sons, Richard, a leper, and Roger, who followed 
 his father to the Holy Land, but of whose fate no 
 tidings had been heard since his departure. 
 
 Robert, the Dean of Whalley, was of a proud
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 3 
 
 bearing and a keen aspect. He was reputed to care 
 more for intrigue than for the self-denying and 
 peaceful offices of the Catholic Church. The rectors 
 and deans of Whalley were at the time also lords of 
 the town and married men, who held it as their 
 own estate, and passed it from father to son. 
 
 The beautiful Abbey of Whalley, now in ruins, 
 was not yet built, only a plain stone building had 
 replaced the wooden erection dedicated by the 
 Saxons to All Saints, and called the White Church 
 under the Leigh. Robert de Whalley was, there- 
 fore, greatly disappointed when the long-coveted 
 possessions of the Lacys were given to another, and 
 his ambitious dreams brought to nought. 
 
 Yet was he not without hope ; the Fitz-Eustace 
 family might not succeed. The leper must of neces- 
 sity be passed over, and Roger being dead or in 
 captivity, the revenues of the estate might still be 
 enjoyed without inquiry. Such were the meditations 
 of this plotting ecclesiastic as he knelt before the 
 altar in that solemn hour in the Chapel of St. 
 Michael. 
 
 The walls of the chapel were smeared with black, 
 and in front of the screen were uncouth paintings 
 of the arms and insignia of the deceased. A pall 
 was thrown over the body and a plate of salt, as an 
 emblem of incorruptibility, placed on the corpse — 
 a custom borrowed from the Druids. The candles 
 burned dimly at the little altar, and a bitter wind 
 pierced the dark bare walls. The cold February 
 sleet pattered fitfully against the narrow panes, and 
 the shivering mourners muffled themselves in their 
 dark hoods, while they knelt devoutly on the hard 
 pavement of the chapel.
 
 4 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 The priest who officiated was an unbeneficed 
 clergyman, long known as an inmate of the castle. 
 He was of a quiet and inoffensive disposition, but 
 much attached to his lord ; often during the service 
 grief stayed his utterance, and he mingled his loud 
 sobs with those of the surrounding worshippers. 
 
 The dirage was concluded, and vespers for the 
 dead were now commencing with the " Placebo 
 Domino." Suddenly, as he was beginning the 
 fumigation to drive away unclean spirits from the 
 body, a loud, deep, and startling blast was heard 
 from a horn at the outer gate. The whole assembly 
 started up from their devotions, and every eye was 
 turned towards the dean, as though to watch and 
 imitate what he should do. He lifted his eyes from 
 the corpse which lay with face and shoulders un- 
 covered, and cried aloud: 
 
 ' What untimely visitor are thou, disturbing the 
 sad offices of the dead?" 
 
 He paused, as if the sound of his own voice had 
 disturbed him; while wrapping himself in his cloak 
 he hastily approached Oliver and pointed towards 
 the door. 
 
 Immediately outside the chapel the way led down 
 a steep angle of the rock, which Oliver accompanied 
 by the porter with a light and one or two 
 attendants, descended without any difficulty, save 
 that which arose from the slippery state of the 
 path. 
 
 " What a plague do ye keep honest men await- 
 ing for at the gate," said a gruff voice from the 
 pitchy darkness without, "in a night that would 
 make a soul wish for a dip in purgatory, just by 
 way of a warming?"
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 5 
 
 ' Hush," said Oliver, " hush, thou bold-faced 
 scorner; we like not such unholy jests. Thy busi- 
 ness, friend?" 
 
 " Open the gate, good master priest-poke," said 
 the other in a tone of authority. 
 
 ' Not until thou showest thine errand," said the 
 seneschal, who with the ponderous gates between 
 him and his visitant was in a fair way for keeping 
 on the strong side of the argument. 
 
 " Now, of my troth, but ye are a pair of rude 
 curs, barking from your warm kennel at your betters, 
 who are shivering in the cold. I come hither from 
 the castle at Halton, where my Lady Fitz-Eustace 
 would lay your noses to the grinding-stone; I am 
 her seneschal whom she sends with a goodly train 
 to the burying. Quick, or we will singe thy beard 
 to light thee to our discovery." 
 
 The gates of the grim Norman arch were im- 
 mediately unbolted at this command, opening wide 
 before so dignified a personage, who as representa- 
 tive of the Fitz-Eustace was evidently impressed 
 with a sufficient sense of his own importance. 
 
 This illustrious person wore a sort of Phrygian- 
 shaped bonnet or cap, made of deer skin, suitably 
 ornamented. A mantle or cloak of dark mulberry 
 colour, fancifully embroidered on the hem, was 
 clasped on one shoulder by a silver buckle. Under- 
 neath was a short upper riding tunic, made of coarse 
 woollen, partly covering an under-vest made of finer 
 materials. A leathern girdle was buckled round 
 his loins, carrying implements needed during the 
 performance of so long a journey through a thinly 
 inhabited region. The upper garment scarcely 
 covered the knee, over which stockings of red cloth
 
 6 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 were seen, reaching half-way up the thigh; round 
 the leg were bandages or cross-gartering well be- 
 spattered with mud; low boots or buskins protected 
 the feet and ankles; to these spurs were fastened, 
 the head being spear-shaped and something crooked 
 in the shank. His beard was forked, and he occa- 
 sionally twisted it with one hand whilst speaking. 
 He carried a lance, or rather a hunting-spear, which 
 he wielded with an air of great formality and dis- 
 play; his followers were likewise furnished each of 
 them with a cloak and tunic, and a conical cap of 
 coarse felt tied under the chin with a leathern band: 
 a girdle of the same material was buckled round the 
 waist, with a scrip and other necessaries for the 
 journey. They rode horses of the Welsh breed, 
 small and stout built, — spoil captured, in all prob- 
 ability, from that rebellious and unruly nation. 
 
 The entry of this armed train was more like an 
 act of taking possession than that of peaceable and 
 formal embassage ; and the newly arrived seneschal 
 soon began to exercise the office of governor or 
 castellan, seizing the reins of government with an 
 iron grasp. He was a square carroty-headed per- 
 sonage, about middle-size and of a ruddy aspect. 
 He held an office of trust under the Fitz-Eustace, 
 and in spite of his saucy garrulity, in which he in- 
 dulged on most occasions, he was faithful, and would 
 have challenged and immolated any one who had 
 dared to question the right of the Fitz-Eustace to 
 precedence before any other baron of the land. 
 Long service rendered him more intrusive than 
 would have been thought becoming or even excus- 
 able in any other enjoying less of his mistress's 
 confidence.
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 7 
 
 " Now, my merry men, all," said this authorita- 
 tive personage, " a long and weary path we have 
 ridden to-day; and had we not been, as it were, 
 lost in your savage wilderness — where our guide, 
 whom we forced before us by dint of blows and 
 hard usage, could scarce keep us in the right track 
 — we had been here before sunset. Thanks to this 
 saint of yours, whosoever he be, for we saw the 
 watch-lights at times from the chapel, as we guessed ; 
 else had we been longer in hitting our mark, and 
 might, peradventure, have supped with the wolves 
 on a haunch of venison. Now for the stables. 
 What ! have ye no knaves hereabout to help our 
 followers with the beasts?" 
 
 Oliver, much troubled at this unceremonious ad- 
 dress, replied shortly: 
 
 " The household are in the chapel, where it had 
 been better thou hadst let us abide and given the 
 corpse a quiet watchnight — the vigils for the dead 
 are not ended." 
 
 " Go to, master seneschal, for of this post I do 
 adjudge thee, and reverence thine office in respect 
 of mine own, but let dead men make their own 
 lanterns ; we must have supper anyhow, and that 
 right speedily." 
 
 Oliver, after seeing the gate secured, sent Hugo 
 to help, whilst he led the way himself into the 
 hall of this once formidable fortress. It was high 
 and gloomy, the fire apparently extinguished. A 
 step on the floor showed where the higher table 
 was placed, for those above a certain rank ; the 
 servants and retainers of all sorts at that time ate 
 their meals with their master, but at the lower end 
 of the hall. Perches for hawks, in form like a
 
 8 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 crutch, were placed behind his chair; for these birds 
 were usually taught to sit hoodless in the evening 
 among the company, undisturbed. Hunting-spears, 
 jackets, chain-armour, shields and helmets deco- 
 rated the walls; and many a goodly heritage of 
 antlers hung like forest boughs stripped of their 
 verdure. There were two oriels furnished with lean- 
 ing stones for the convenience of loungers. Painted 
 glass filled the higher portions of the windows, re- 
 presenting uncouth heads, hands, feet, and bodies 
 of saints, in glowing and gorgeous magnificence. 
 
 The hall, the usual rendezvous of the household, 
 was now deserted for the dread solemnities of that 
 cheerless night. The stranger was much dis- 
 couraged by reason of the coldness and gloom, 
 shivering audibly at the comfortless appearance that 
 was before him. 
 
 " St. Martin's malison light on ye — fire, billets, 
 and all. I've seen nothing like to warm my bare 
 nose and knuckles since we left Halton two long 
 days ago. Verily, to my thinking, there's as much 
 timber burnt there daily as ye would pile here for 
 a winter's use." 
 
 ' Prithee, come with me into the kitchen, 'we 
 may have better quarters, peradventure, among the 
 flesh-pots," said Oliver, leading the stranger through 
 a small doorway on the left. The kitchens of our 
 ancestors were usually placed near the hall for the 
 convenience of serving. Here, through a sliding 
 aperture in the panel, the victuals were transferred 
 with safety and despatch. It was built entirely of 
 stone, having a conical roof with a turret at the top 
 for the escape of steam and smoke. A fire was still 
 burning, and over it a large caldron was suspended
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 9 
 
 on a sort of gibbet, by which it could be withdrawn 
 from the flame. Fire-rakes and fire-jacks were laid 
 on the hearth, and around the walls were iron pots, 
 trivets, pans, kettles, ladles and platters. Huge 
 dressers held preparations for the morrow, and a 
 kitchen wench was piling fuel on the ever-burning 
 fire. 
 
 The envoy, glad to be ensconced so near the 
 blaze, quickly set himself to improving it by the 
 use of a huge faggot by way of poker. He had 
 thrown off his upper clothing ; for the grim walls 
 soon reddened with the rising glow. So intent was 
 he on an occupation which he evidently enjoyed 
 that he was not aware when Oliver departed to the 
 chapel to inform the dean of this arrival. 
 
 In one part of the kitchen was a long low-roofed 
 recess, accessible only by a ladder, wherein dried 
 meats, consisting of bacon, ham, deers' tongues, 
 mutton, venison and other dainties of the like nature 
 were stored. To this place our guest without in- 
 vitation ascended, and drawing out a formidable 
 weapon from his belt began a furious attack. 
 
 Oliver presently returned, accompanied by the 
 dean, who addressed the intruder as follows: 
 
 " How is it that we have none from the noble 
 house of Fitz-Eustace, save thou and thy followers?" 
 
 The messenger looked askance at the speaker, 
 disposing of a large mouthful ere he vouchsafed a 
 reply. 
 
 "Me and my company I As goodly a band, I 
 trow, as ever put foot to the stirrup ! Yet will I re- 
 solve thy question as plain as Beeston Castle. My 
 lady is old, and her only son died long ago on a 
 crusade. Her third grandson, now in the office of
 
 io LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 constable, is out amongst the Welsh — plague on their 
 fiery blood — by reason of the absence of his elder 
 brother, Roger, yet abroad in these Holy Wars. Of 
 the eldest born, Richard, we know not but that he 
 is deceased. He left the castle many years ago 
 sorely afflicted, for he was a leper. So that, per- 
 adventure, my lady hath sent the best man she had, 
 inasmuch as I am steward and seneschal, being 
 appointed thereto through her ladyship's great wis- 
 dom and discretion." 
 
 Here he surveyed himself with an air of inde- 
 scribable assurance and satisfaction. 
 
 " And saving your presence," continued the 
 deputy, " I come here as castellan or governor, until 
 he whose right it is shall possess it." 
 
 " And how know we that we are not opening 
 our gates and surrendering our castle to some losel 
 knave, whose only title may lie on the tip of his 
 tongue, and his right on the end of his rapier?" 
 
 " By this token," said the seneschal, drawing out 
 a parchment roll, to which was appended the broad 
 seal of the ancient house of Fitz-Eustace. 
 
 The dean cast his eyes over the document, and 
 returning it to the messenger without either answer 
 or inquiry immediately retired. 
 
 Much chagrined by this unexpected interference 
 with his long-coveted possessions he left the castle. 
 Yet his footsteps were not bent towards the shadow 
 of his own roof, the deanery at Whalley. 
 
 Outside the castle wall, on the steepest side of 
 the hill, was a little hermitage, wherein dwelt one 
 reputed to be a saint. To this habitation were the 
 steps of the dean immediately directed. He raised 
 the latch as though accustomed to this familiarity.
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE n 
 
 The chamber, a high narrow cell scooped out of the 
 rock, was quite dark ; but a voice was heard, a 
 deep sepulchral tone, as though issuing from the 
 ground : 
 
 " Art thou here so soon, de Whalley?" 
 
 " Sir Ulphilas," said the intruder hastily and with 
 some degree of agitation, " canst work miracles 
 now? The Canaanites are come into the land to 
 possess it; nor will threatenings and conjurations 
 drive them forth." 
 
 " I know it," said the hermit, who, though unseen, 
 had not, it seems, been an inattentive observer of the 
 events of the last two hours. A light suddenly shot 
 forth, enkindled as if by magic, showing the tall 
 gaunt form of the "Holy Hermit of the Rock." 
 He was dressed in a long grey garment of coarse 
 woollen. It was said that he wore an iron corslet 
 next his skin — for mortification it was thought by 
 the vulgar — but whether for this, or for a more 
 obvious purpose, it would be easy to surmise. 
 A girdle of plaited horse-hair encompassed his thin, 
 attenuated form. His head was uncovered, and he 
 seemed just to have risen from his couch, a board 
 or shelf raised only a few inches from the rock on 
 which it lay. His eye was wild, quick and spark- 
 ling, but his cheek was deadly pale. 
 
 " I have dreamed a dream," said the visionary. 
 
 "And to what end?" inquired his visitor, seat- 
 ing himself with great deliberation. 
 
 " Nay, 'twas not a dream," continued the hermit. 
 " St. Michael stood before me this blessed night, 
 arrayed as thou seest him portrayed in the glass of 
 his holy chapel above. His armour was all bright 
 and glistening, and his sword a devouring flame.
 
 12 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 He flapped his wings thrice ere he departed, and 
 said to me, ' Arise, Ulphilas, and work, for thine 
 hour is come ! ' " 
 
 " And what better am I," said the irreverent priest, 
 ' for this saintly revelation? I must work too, 
 or " 
 
 " Hold," said the hermit, laying his hand on the 
 other's shoulder with great solemnity; "speak not 
 unadvisedly with thy lips ; there be those within 
 hearing that thou little knowest." 
 
 " Thou didst promise, whilst I, fond fool, cajoled 
 by thine assurance that my blood should be with the 
 proud current that inherits these domains, forbore 
 and let thee work. But thou hast been a traitor to 
 my cause, I do suspect. By thine accursed arts 
 Robert de Lacy left his patrimony to a stranger!" 
 
 " True I counselled him thus. What then?" 
 
 " I and mine are barred from the inheritance! " 
 
 " Shall the word of the Hermit of the Rock fall to 
 the ground? Have I not promised that thy blood 
 shall be with those that inherit these domains?" 
 
 " Promises are slender food for an hungry 
 stomach," cried the unbeliever. 
 
 " If the promise fail, blame thy dastardly fears 
 and not my power. Thou shalt see the promised 
 land thou shalt not inherit. Thy son shall receive 
 the blessing." 
 
 The dean looked as though for a moment he could 
 have begged that the decree be reversed ; but pride 
 or anger had the mastery. 
 
 " And so," cried he, " thou findest thy predic- 
 tions run counter to thy schemes, perdie." 
 
 " How, false one? Have I not wrought for thee? 
 Hath not he whose corpse now resteth in hope over-
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 13 
 
 whelmed thee with his favours through my counsel 
 and contrivance? I owed thee a service, for thou 
 wast my stay and sustenance when driven hither an 
 outcast from the haunts of men. But thoughtest thou 
 that I should pander to thy lust, and hew out a path- 
 way to thy desire?" 
 
 "To me, this!" said the covetous intruder, his 
 voice quivering with rage. 
 
 " Yes, to thee, Robert de Whalley," replied the 
 hermit: "because thou hast not leaped the last 
 height of thine ambition, forsooth — because thou art 
 not lord of these wide domains, through my interest 
 and holy communion with the departed — and because 
 I have not basely sold myself to thee, thou art 
 offended. Beware lest the endowment be wrested 
 from thy grasp, the glebe and manor pass away 
 from thine inheritance." 
 
 " Thou hast the privity and counsel of the dead, 
 and a whisper would have made it mine," said the 
 dean with great dejection. 
 
 " Greedy and unblushing as thou art, know it 
 was I who counselled him, and the deed is in my 
 keeping. I sent a secret message to Halton with 
 the news, and Roger, de Fitz-Eustace will be here 
 anon! " 
 
 "Thou dreamest; he is in bondage, or slain at 
 Ascalon." 
 
 " He will reappear," replied the hermit, " and the 
 banner of Fitz-Eustace wave on yonder turret. 
 Hence ! ungrateful man, to thy house, and let an old 
 man rest in peace." 
 
 The disappointed priest departed in great haste; 
 terror of which he could not divest himself, and for 
 which he could not account, overpowered him in the
 
 14 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 presence of the hermit. He durst not provoke him 
 further; but as he crossed the courtyard again a 
 glimpse of hope shot suddenly on his soul. 
 
 " In thy keeping! " He spoke scarcely above his 
 breath, but the walls seemed to give back the sound. 
 He started like some guilty thing at the discovery 
 of its crime. 
 
 Before the morning light on the following day the 
 castle bell began to toll. Preparations were making 
 for the conveyance of the last of the Lacys to the 
 Abbey of Kirkstall, a journey which would occupy 
 the greater part of two successive days. The path- 
 way over the hills was narrow, and the mode of con-> 
 veyance difficult, if not dangerous. A litter was 
 made for the corpse, and slung on a pole between 
 two horses, and covered as in a bier with the pall 
 and trappings. A sword of ceremony was carried in 
 front ; the dean rode immediately before the body, 
 the chanters preceding with a priest bearing the cross 
 and censer. Behind came the male domestics and 
 the seneschal of Halton with his train. 
 
 Psalms were sung at every halting-place and in 
 the villages through which they passed, and torches 
 were kept lighted during the greater part of the 
 journey, to be extinguished at last in the earth that 
 should cover the body. 
 
 Thus attired and thus attended was this once 
 powerful baron conveyed to his narrow dwelling- 
 house in the dust. 
 
 Weeks and months passed away, and the raw 
 February wind grew soft in the warm and joyous
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 15 
 
 impulse of another spring. One night, about the hour 
 of vespers, two men habited in monks' apparel and 
 carrying with them staff and scrip, as if bent on a 
 long and weary travel, came to the cell of the Hermit 
 of the Rock. After the usual salutation they entered. 
 
 "Whence come ye, and whither bound?" said 
 the hermit, surveying the intruders by the light of 
 a solitary lamp that was burning in a niche. 
 
 " We are from the Abbey of Stanlaw, on our way 
 to Kirkstall in the morning." 
 
 " Wherefore abide ye here? There is lodging 
 and better cheer withal in the castle above." 
 
 ' We are under a vow, and rest not save on holy 
 ground ; we crave thy hospitality, therefore, and 
 shelter for the night." 
 
 ' Is your errand to Kirkstall hidden, or is it an 
 open embassage?" 
 
 ' The Lady Fitz-Eustace sendeth greeting by us 
 to the holy abbot through our superior at Stanlaw, 
 beseeching that he would make diligent inquiry 
 touching the will of Robert de Lacy, once lord of 
 this goodly heritage. She hath had news of his 
 demise with an assurance that his possessions have 
 been devised to the Fitz-Eustace by his last will 
 and testament. Yet this writing she hath not seen, 
 nor knoweth she into whose custody it has been 
 given. Apprehending the close intimacy which the 
 abbot once enjoyed she doth conjecture that, in all 
 likelihood, the testament is in his keeping." 
 
 " Your journey hath need of none other refer- 
 ence, for the will is in my custody." 
 
 " In thine, Sir Ulphilas?" 
 
 'How know ye my name already?" cried the 
 hermit sharply.
 
 16 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Father," said the intruders, " we crave thy bless- 
 ing, and, moreover, a share of thy pittance, for our 
 way hath been long and toilsome: since yesterday 
 our journey has been over hills and through deep 
 forests infested with wolves and noisome beasts, 
 which we had much ado to escape." 
 
 The hermit drew a little table from the recess, 
 blowing the wan embers until a cheerful blaze flashed 
 brightly through the cell. He then opened a cup- 
 board scooped out of the solid rock and took thence 
 a scrap of hard cheese, a barley cake, and a few 
 parched peas, with which his visitors commenced 
 their supper. They ate their meal in silence, and 
 took a draught from the spring. When they had 
 finished, one of the brethren thus addressed his 
 host: 
 
 " And what shall be thy message to our holy 
 abbot? Wilt thou send the parchments to his 
 grace?" 
 
 " Nay, brethren, that is not my purpose." 
 
 Another and a brief pause ensued. 
 
 "But the message?" 
 
 " Say that the will is here " — he looked towards 
 his bosom as he spoke — " and at the appointed hour 
 it shall be ready. When Roger de Fitz-Eustace 
 comes hither his claim shall be duly certified." 
 
 "Alas!" said the wayfaring guests in a tone of 
 deep sorrow and apprehension, " he went on a war- 
 fare against the infidels." 
 
 " He will return," was the reply. 
 
 "God grant him a safe deliverance! but he tar- 
 rieth long, and a rumour hath lately been abroad that 
 he fell at Ascalon." 
 
 " 'Tis false," said the hermit, roused to an un-
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 17 
 
 expected outburst of wrath. His eyes kindled with 
 rage, and he darted a glance at the intruders which' 
 made them cower and shrink from his rebuke. In a 
 moment he grew calm, relapsing into his usual 
 moody and thoughtful attitude. Taking courage 
 they again addressed him. 
 
 ' Is this thy message to the Abbot of Stanlaw? 
 If so, our errand hath but a sorry recompense." 
 
 " And what recompense should fall to the lot of 
 miscreants like ye?" replied the hermit, surveying 
 them with a contemptuous glance. " I hear ;the 
 sound of your master's feet behind ye. Tell Robert, 
 the proud Dean of Whalley, that when he sends ye 
 next on so goodly an errand, to see that ye con 
 your lesson more carefully, else will ye be known 
 for a couple of arrant knaves as ever went a-mous- 
 ing into an owl's nest! Hence, begone!" And he 
 drove them from his threshold. The counterfeit 
 monks went back to Whalley in haste, reporting the 
 ill success of their mission. 
 
 " Nevertheless," said de Whalley, " I have some 
 clue to the search if the glance of his eye, which 
 these varlets have reported, do show truly where the 
 treasure is hidden. I will foil the old fox yet with 
 his own weapons." 
 
 This comfortable reflection in all probability 
 moderated his anger at the failure of his messengers, 
 whom he dismissed with little ceremony from his 
 presence. 
 
 In the meantime the new castellan was exercising 
 his power with unsparing severity. Oliver de Wort- 
 shorn was almost heart-broken ; the old man suddenly 
 found his office wrested from him and himself de- 
 pendent on the caprice of a stranger. Adam de 
 c
 
 i8 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Button was the name of this new functionary, and 
 he rode it out bravely over the servants and re- 
 tainers, discharging some, punishing others, and 
 making the whole community groan beneath his iron 
 yoke. 
 
 Early on the morrow, after a day of unusual 
 discipline, Oliver bent his feeble steps to the her- 
 mitage. He laid his complaints before the occupant 
 of the cell, who was ever ready to give aid and 
 comfort to the afflicted. 
 
 " Take little heed of the deputy now," said the 
 holy man; "his master will be here anon. I hear 
 the tramp of armed men, with the herald's trumpet. 
 I see the red griffin and the banner of the Fitz- 
 Eustace." 
 
 " But, Sir Ulphilas," replied the ejected steward, 
 ' there is no peace either by night or day, and we 
 are worn out by his waywardness and oppression. 
 If it might be that your reverence would come with 
 me, peradventure the churl would grow tame at 
 your presence." 
 
 The hermit, complying with this request, accom- 
 panied Oliver to the castle. 
 
 In the hall Adam de Dutton was about consigning 
 one of the villains for some slight offence to the 
 whipping-post and the stocks. The accused, on 
 his knees, was beseeching his judge for mercy, 
 when the hermit with great solemnity entered 
 the hall. His face was partly concealed by a large 
 hood, and little of his countenance was visible but 
 the long beard which flowed over his bosom and his 
 eyes which seemed to glow through the dark shadows 
 beneath. 
 
 'Whom bring ye next for our disposal?" in-
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 19 
 
 quired the castellan, but there was no answer; every 
 eye was directed to the hermit who came slowly 
 forward, standing opposite to this arbiter of justice 
 in the castle of the Lacys. 
 
 'What hath this man done amiss?" inquired he, 
 in a tone that showed that for all his meekness his 
 wrath was kindling. 
 
 " It is our pleasure! " answered Adam de Dutton, 
 reddening; "and, furthermore, our pleasure is that 
 thou get thee to thy cell, or, by St. Michael, my 
 bowmen shall help thee thither when this fellow hath 
 had his allowance at their hands." 
 
 ' Fool 1 " cried the hermit, in a voice that struck 
 terror through the assembly, while even the judge 
 himself started back with amazement. " Begone, 
 child," said Ulphilas to the culprit; " I quit thee of 
 the punishment; peradventure thou hast deserved to 
 suffer, but I give to this emissary a timely warning 
 thereby." 
 
 The criminal was not loth to obey, disappearing 
 speedily without hindrance, while the spectators were 
 mute with amazement. The hermit, too, was silent 
 before the usurper, who, almost frantic with vexation, 
 cried out: 
 
 " Seize him! — help for the Fitz-Eustace ! — treason 
 against our Lady of Halton ! " 
 
 Uttering many rapid and incoherent expressions 
 he approached the hermit who stood unmoved, ap- 
 parently the only unconcerned spectator in the rising- 
 tumult. The seneschal's guards were already in 
 motion, but Adam himself was the first to attempt 
 the seizure. 
 
 The holy man drew back, as though from the 
 touch of pollution.
 
 20 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Hold! " cried he. " One touch and it is thy last. 
 Rash fool, thou hast provoked this rebuke." 
 
 The hand of the seneschal had scarcely been put 
 forth, when, lo ! the astonished deputy shrank back 
 in dismay. A sudden change came over his angry 
 countenance — a look of surprise mingled with horror. 
 He stood trembling, speechless, pale as ashes, ex- 
 pecting immediate and condign punishment. Yet 
 was the change not so sudden but that a quick-eyed 
 observer might have remarked the hermit's outer 
 garment loosened for a moment, and a significant 
 whisper which caused in the other those visible 
 tokens of alarm. 
 
 Ulphilas immediately retired to his cell, and from 
 that hour it was clear that the castellan discharged 
 his duties under the control of some overmastering 
 fear. 
 
 It was presently rumoured abroad that tidings 
 had been heard from Roger de Fitz-Eustace, who 
 had been supposed to be either in captivity or to 
 have fallen at the siege of Ascalon. 
 
 Not long afterwards there arrived at Clitheroe 
 two messengers, who in consequence of the deputy's 
 absence for a season held a secret conference with 
 the Dean of Whalley ere they departed. An order 
 was left that the castle should be forthwith in 
 readiness for the reception of some distinguished 
 guest. 
 
 The dean, having received the messengers, took 
 special care that the knowledge of their arrival 
 should be kept if possible from Adam de Dutton 
 who was devoting several days to hunting in the 
 forest, where a mighty slaughter of game— wolves, 
 bears, and the like— was achieved. In this pastime
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 21 
 
 Geoffery, the dean's only son, acted a distinguished 
 part. 
 
 The deans of Whalley were indeed mighty hunters 
 in those days, and a story is told that the great- 
 grandfather of the present incumbent, Livvlphus Cut- 
 wolph, cut off a wolf's tail whilst hunting, a feat 
 from which he acquired this surname. Geoff ery 
 inherited more than an ordinary passion for the 
 chase. With his bow and hunting-spear he had 
 been known to spend many days in places that the 
 feet of men rarely trod and the wild roe and the 
 eagle had their almost inaccessible haunts. 
 
 On the evening of a sultry day, when Ulphilas 
 had thrown himself on his couch, the Dean of 
 Whalley, without warning or intimation, stood beside 
 him. 
 
 " The holy hermit hath taken himself early to his 
 repose. How fareth he in this hard cell? 'Tis long 
 since we met." 
 
 " Peradventure it might have been longer had 
 not news travelled to thine ear touching the safety 
 of the Fitz-Eustace and his speedy arrival," said the 
 hermit, without so much as turning his eyes towards 
 the visitor. Robert de Whalley stood silent and 
 aghast. 
 
 "Thou knowest of his return?" 
 
 " Yes, ere the knowledge was thine," said the 
 hermit carelessly. 
 
 " There is little use in secrecy where the very 
 walls possess a tongue; and seeing that the first 
 part of mine errand is known, it may be thou art 
 as well instructed in the latter, which is the purport 
 of my visit." 
 
 " I am," replied the other quickly, now for the
 
 22 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 first time fixing his eyes on the intruder, " and of 
 the issue too, I trow." 
 
 "Ah!" said the dean, with a long-drawn ex- 
 clamation of surprise, and then continued with 
 affected humility: 
 
 " Give me the parchments committed to thy trust 
 by de Lacy, and I will found an abbey consecrated 
 to thy patron, wherein thou shalt be the ruler. I 
 purpose to enrich it with half my possessions, even of 
 those whereby, through thy ministry, I do become 
 entitled from the death of Robert de Lacy." 
 
 " Which meaneth if I but aid thee to rob another 
 of some large and goodly inheritance thou wilt 
 give to Heaven, forsooth, a portion of what belongs 
 not to thee." 
 
 " Once thou didst promise me thine aid." 
 
 "To robbery and rapine?" 
 
 " I have not wronged thee! " 
 
 " Nor I " 
 
 "Thou hast; the inheritance is mine; thou hast 
 robbed me of my right, and I will regain these lands 
 or perish on them." 
 
 " And so thou mayest, unblushing traitor." 
 
 "Traitor — ah! this word to me?" 
 
 " Yes, to thee, Robert de Whalley! " 
 
 " Thou art in my power, old man; ere I entered 
 thy cell I left a trusty keeper at the door," cried the 
 dean with savage exultation. 
 
 " In thy power — never, miscreant!" 
 
 " Give the deed to my keeping and no harm shall 
 happen thee ; refuse and thou art my prisoner. 
 Force may accomplish my wishes without thy 
 compliance." 
 
 The hermit's eyes glistened like twin fires in
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE ^ 
 
 their hollow recesses. He stood erect, confronting 
 his visitor, who, bold in audacity and guilt, repeated 
 his demand. 
 
 " Never!" said the hermit. 
 
 ' Then die, fond dotard! " cried de Whalley; and 
 sudden as the lightning-stroke he drewa dagger from 
 his vest, aiming a blow at the hermit's bosom; but 
 marvellous to relate the steel hardly penetrated the 
 folds of his drapery, glancing back with a dull 
 sound. A look of unutterable scorn curled his fea- 
 tures. 
 
 "Cowardly assassin!' he cried, "I hold thy 
 threats at less worth than a handful of this 
 base dust beneath my feet, and utterly defy thy 
 power. I am free as the untrammelled air, and thou 
 mayest as well attempt to grasp the shadow or the 
 sunbeam." 
 
 Swift as the words he uttered the hermit dis- 
 appeared. The effect was so sudden, aided in all 
 likelihood by the dimness of the cell, that to the 
 astonished eyes of de Whalley, Ulphilas seemed to 
 have sunk like a shadow through the rocky floor. 
 
 " Thou hast escaped me, fiend," said the dean, 
 gnashing his teeth with vexation, " but I will over- 
 match thy spells ; with the aid of this good hand 
 I may yet retrieve the inheritance." 
 
 Saying this he left the cell, and returned to his 
 home at Whalley. 
 
 Early on the morrow the hermit entered the hall 
 where Adam de Dutton was preparing for another 
 expedition to the forest. The seneschal looked un- 
 easy and surprised, but acknowledged his presence 
 with respect and humility. 
 
 " Adam de Dutton, thou hast other work to do,"
 
 54 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 cried the holy man, " than rambling after these fools 
 i' the forest. Thy lord will be here anon." 
 
 "How? Whom meanest thou?" cried the cas- 
 tellan, with a bewildered stare. 
 
 "Roger de Fitz-Eustace. He is at hand; see 
 thou prepare to meet him." 
 
 "Surely thou mockest ! Roger de " 
 
 " Peace! The last beam of to-morrow's sun shall 
 see the banner of the Fitz-Eustace beneath the gate." 
 'To-morrow! Why — how cometh my lord? 
 Surely thou dreamest — or thy " 
 
 " Once more I warn thee of his coming; see to 
 his reception, or thy lord will be wroth ; and Roger 
 with the ready hand was not used to be over-nice 
 or loth in administering a rod to a fool's back." 
 
 The hermit departed without awaiting a reply. 
 But great was the stir and the tumult in the strong- 
 hold of the Lacys on that memorable day. The 
 hurrying to and fro of the victuallers and the cooks ; 
 the clink of armourers and the din of horses pranc- 
 ing in their warlike equipments, kept up an incessant 
 jingle and confusion. A watchman was stationed 
 on the keep, whose duty it was to give warning 
 when the dust, curling on the wind, should betoken 
 the approach of the strangers. The guards were 
 set, the gates properly mounted, and the drawbridge 
 raised, so that their future lord might be admitted 
 in due form to his possession. 
 
 The sun went gloriously down towards the wide 
 and distant verge of the forest, and the brow of 
 Pendle flung back his burning glance. The watch- 
 man sat beneath the low battlements, hardly able 
 to direct his aching eyes towards the forest path 
 below the hill. One slight curl of dust had already
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 25 
 
 escaped him, another waved softly above the trees 
 where the path wound upwards from the valley. 
 Again it was to be seen, and the watchman seemed 
 to awaken as from a dream. Strangers were surely 
 approaching, but without retinue, as the wreath from 
 its small show would seem to intimate. Just as he 
 came to this conclusion two horsemen swept into 
 view where a broad turn of the road was visible, 
 disappearing again rapidly behind the arched boughs 
 of the forest. 
 
 Bounding almost headlong down the narrow stair 
 he immediately ran to the hall to inform the deputy 
 of what he had seen. Scarce had he concluded 
 when a hoarse blast from the horn rang at the 
 outer gate. Adam de Dutton hurried to the postern, 
 where he saw two horsemen bearing signs of their 
 allegiance ,to the renowned constable of Chester. 
 They wore what was then considered a great novelty 
 in dress, the tabord, a sleeveless garment consisting 
 of only two pieces, which hung down before and 
 behind, the sides being left open. Low-crowned 
 yellow caps covered their heads, and the upper tunic 
 was yellow and richly embroidered, reaching only 
 to the knees. They wore forked beards well pointed, 
 and gloves and boots of beautiful Spanish leather. 
 Their horses were low but of an exquisite symmetry, 
 and the beasts were pawing and champing before 
 the gates when Adam hasted down the courtyard. 
 These were avant-couriers or messengers from Roger 
 de Fitz-Eustace, whom they announced as being 
 nigh, and to be expected before nightfall, with his 
 daughter Maud, a maiden much renowned for her 
 beauty. 
 
 As the sun sank deeper into the gloom of the
 
 26 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 woods, and the shadows grew long on the green and 
 sunny slope of the hill, the wild shrill notes of a 
 clarion rang through the forest glades ; a distant 
 burst of martial music was heard with the roll of a 
 drum — an instrument borrowed from the Saracens, 
 and in use only after the crusades. 
 
 Now went forth Adam de Dutton and his train 
 bareheaded to meet their lord, whom they found 
 riding at a slow pace, and conversing familiarly but 
 attentively with the Dean of Whalley. Behind him 
 came the blushing Maud on a beautiful white pal- 
 frey, and beside her a comely youth in a fair hunt- 
 ing suit, the son of de Whalley, who by his fervid 
 and impassioned glances showed himself apt in other 
 and nobler exercises than the upland chase and the 
 forest cover could afford. 
 
 Roger de Fitz-Eustace, the terror and scourge of 
 the Welsh, was then about forty years old. He was 
 clothed in a light suit of armour — the hauberk, with 
 the rings set edgewise, reaching down to the knees.. 
 His helmet was cylindrical, the aventail, or face- 
 guard, thrown up. He wore a sur-coat, a fashion 
 that seemed to have originated with the Crusaders, 
 not only for the purpose of distinguishing the 
 different leaders, but as a veil to protect the armour, 
 so apt to heat excessively when exposed to the direct 
 rays of the sun. It was of a violet colour without 
 any distinctive mark or badge. His highly deco- 
 rated shield was borne behind him. Angular in 
 shape, it was made to hang from the neck by a strap 
 called a guige or gige, a Norman custom of great 
 antiquity. A huge broadsword was carried by his 
 armour-bearer, the chief himself bearing only a 
 French stabbing-sword fastened on one side of his
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 27 
 
 pommel and a stout battle-axe on the other. The 
 horse was decorated with great and costly profusion. 
 At a short distance rode William de Bellomonte, the 
 baron's inseparable companion. A small train of 
 archers and cross-bowmen brought up the rear of 
 the escort, save the baggage and sumpter-horses, 
 laden not only with provisions but cooking utensils 
 and even with furniture for the household. In those 
 days it was a matter of both economy and necessity 
 for the occupants or lords of several castles to travel 
 with equipment of this sort ; though possessing many 
 residences, most of them had the means for the 
 furnishing of but one. 
 
 The seneschal and his train alighted, doing homage 
 to their lord, who was conducted with great pomp 
 and ceremony into the fortress, now lapsed for ever 
 from the blood and succession of the Lacys. 
 
 Accompanied by her father and her female at- 
 tendants, the gentle maiden entered the hall. She 
 was stately and beautifully formed, with little show 
 of her lineage except the high forehead and well- 
 formed nose of the Fitz-Eustace. She was enveloped 
 from head to foot in a gown or habit ; over this 
 was cast a richly embroidered purple silk cloak. 
 Her pocketing sleeves hung from the wrists almost 
 to the ground, showing an opening or pocket which 
 might have supplied the place of a lady's arm-bag 
 in our own days. A wimple or veil was thrown 
 over the head, a sort of hood which, instead of 
 covering the shoulders, was brought round the neck 
 beneath the chin, like a warrior's gorget, giving an 
 exceedingly stiff and muffled appearance to the upper 
 part of the figure. 
 
 Geoffery was unremitting in his attentions, and his
 
 28 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 father seemed as assiduous in his court to the fierce 
 Crusader, who listened attentively to some private 
 intelligence which the dean was evidently much in- 
 terested in communicating. The following were the 
 only words that could be distinguished at the dis- 
 missal of the courteous de Whalley, as he retired a 
 few paces ere he departed : 
 
 ' To-morrow be it," said Fitz-Eustace, " after 
 matins, and we will hear thee further in the matter; 
 let him then be conveyed to our presence." 
 
 The dean retired, but at dawn he was again pre- 
 sent in the chantry of St. Michael within the castle. 
 
 Fierce came the beams of the morning sun 
 through the eastern oriel of the hall where the 
 guards and retainers of this feudal fortress were 
 awaiting the appearance of their lord. Lounging 
 idly at the great entrance were those immediately in 
 attendance on their chief, some playing at merelles, 
 or nine men's morris, others tilting with mimic arms 
 and twanging the bow string. The pikemen were 
 drawn up in the courtyard, awaiting orders from 
 their superior. Their glittering weapons flung back 
 the morning light in sharp flashes to the sky, while 
 on the tower the dark pennon hung motionless and 
 drooping in the sultry air. K 
 
 The news of the arrival had drawn thither not a 
 few of the surrounding peasantry to gaze upon the 
 pomp and to pay homage at the court of their 
 feudal lord; and a crowd of idlers was gathering 
 beneath the walls of the fortress. 
 
 The breakfast meal being over, the baron entered 
 through a side door behind a rude bench overhung
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 29 
 
 with faded drapery. His cheek was scorched and 
 darkened with the burning suns of Palestine, while 
 his beard seemed to have been whitened in that fiery 
 clime. He was now dressed in a rich purple cope 
 or gown, fitting close without sleeves or armholes, 
 and embellished with a deep gold-coloured border, 
 the Anglo-Saxon mantle being then discarded by 
 persons of distinction. The tunic underneath was 
 of scarlet, bordered with real ermine, which to- 
 gether with a low square cap or coronet that he wore 
 gave him something of a regal appearance. A leash 
 of hounds crouched at his feet. Before and below 
 the heralds and officers of the household arranged 
 themselves, amongst whom Adam de Dutton was 
 conspicuous by his ludicrously solemn attitude and 
 appearance. The scene had the aspect of a military 
 tribunal, especially when Roger de Lacy (by which 
 name we shall now distinguish him) ordered that 
 silence should be proclaimed, and that the Dean of 
 Whalley should be summoned to his presence. 
 
 Robert de Whalley immediately presented himself. 
 
 "Thou hast been prompt to our bidding; the 
 lark;, I trow, had but newly arisen from her bed ere 
 thou wast away from thine," said the baron. 
 
 ' Three weary miles through this grim forest is 
 good speed ere matins ; but I knew the occasion 
 was urgent, and my lord's commands admit not of 
 delay." 
 
 " Hast heard aught of, or communicated with, the 
 traitor thou didst denounce to me privily yester- 
 day?" 
 
 " Being holden as one of great sanctity, by 
 common report, it were dangerous to lay hands on 
 him without an express warranty from our chief."
 
 30 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " He shall be summoned to our court. Adam de 
 Dutton " 
 
 " Stay, my lord," said the wily dean. " I would 
 with all due submission urge that caution were best 
 in this matter." 
 
 "Caution, de Whalley! and to what end? Are 
 the Lacys not able to execute as well as to command? 
 Or is the lax ministration of justice now complained 
 of throughout the realm prevailing here also? By the 
 beard of Hugh Lupus I will be heard and obeyed 
 too." 
 
 " Pardon me, my lord," continued the accuser, 
 " this delinquent of whom we speak hath not the 
 same nature as our own. He useth magic, and 
 anointeth his body so that it shall be invisible. 
 And yet he may be dealt with." 
 
 ' Troth, a man of many faculties ; but why should 
 he withhold the deed?" 
 
 " I know not, save that he purposeth by fraud and 
 subtilty to cast these fair possessions into the treasury 
 of the Church and build an abbey hereabout, the 
 like whereof hath not been seen for glory and mag- 
 nificence." 
 
 " Doth he then deny our right to the inheritance? 
 The Lady Fitz-Eustace had a fair copy of the deed; 
 how hath this canting hermit gotten the writing into 
 his possession?" 
 
 ' I know not, my lord, unless the like arts have 
 enabled him to appropriate it by other means than 
 those of honesty and good faith. But give me a 
 band of men and leave so to deal with him as I shall 
 see fit. I will come upon him unawares, ere he can 
 use his magic, and lay hold of the traitor." 
 
 ' Traitor ! " echoed a voice from behind the screen
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 31 
 
 at the lower end of the hall. Every eye was turned 
 in that direction. And lo ! the hermit himself 
 stalked forth, unquestioned and unobstructed. The 
 baron rose, his grim eyebrows fiercely knit. He 
 looked inquiringly towards the dean, who for a mo- 
 ment was confounded by this unexpected event. Yet 
 his presence of mind did not forsake him. 
 
 " Let him be bound instantly, my lord," whis- 
 pered de Whalley, " and holden by main force, or 
 he will escape like a limed bird from the twigs. 
 Let him be led forth to the dungeon, where I myself 
 will question him. It is not fitting that this plotter 
 should practise his devices upon our assembly." 
 
 At a signal from their chief the soldiers sur- 
 rounded him; but the hermit, whose features were 
 still hidden by the cowl, took hold of the foremost, 
 and with an incredible strength dashed him to the 
 ground. The others drew back in fear. 
 
 "Treason, my lord, treason," cried the dean ; 
 " you behold him even in your presence exercising 
 forbidden arts. Away with him to the dungeon ! 
 Guards, do your office." 
 
 "Miscreant, beware!' said the hermit. De 
 Whalley, bold and seldom daunted, started back at 
 the sound. 
 
 "What! this lawless speech to our face, and in 
 our council too?" cried the baron. "Seize that 
 hooded kite, knaves, or I will hang every one of 
 ye ere the sun be two hours older." 
 
 Roger de Lacy, in a threatening attitude, ap- 
 proached the guards who now surrounded the hermit, 
 though using more caution than before. Suddenly 
 they rushed upon him and pinioned him ere he 
 could make the least resistance,
 
 32 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 At this moment the dean contrived to push to- 
 wards him. Thrusting his hand into his bosom he 
 held the long-coveted parchment in his grasp, and 
 with stealthy speed conveyed it to his own. 
 
 "How now/' cried the baron; "wherefore in 
 such haste? I trow the deed is ours! " 
 
 With a great show of obedience and respect he 
 drew the parchment again from beneath his robe, 
 and holding it cautiously beside him exclaimed: 
 
 " My lord, ere this be read is it not prudent that 
 we convey the traitor to the dungeon, lest by his 
 subtilty the writing be wrested from our grasp?" 
 
 The hermit, yet held in close custody by the 
 guards, cried with a loud voice: 
 
 " Who is the traitor let the walls of my cell 
 bear witness, when they heard him offer a heavy 
 bribe that this — this the only evidence to the right 
 of the Fitz-Eustace, might be destroyed!" 
 
 " Fatherest thou thy crime upon me?" cried the 
 dean, indignant at the accusation. 
 
 " Give me the roll," said the baron, " and we 
 will confront him by what he would have withheld. 
 After we have made our right secure, we adjudge 
 him to his deserts." 
 
 The dean was obliged, however unwillingly, to 
 obey, handing forward the parchment which Roger 
 de Lacy unfolded in the presence of the hermit. 
 It would be impossible to describe the consterna- 
 tion of the chieftain when he read therein a formal 
 grant, bequeathing the whole of these vast pos- 
 sessions to Robert de Whalley and his heirs for ever. 
 
 The dean with well-feigned resentment at the 
 fraud which the hermit intended to have put upon 
 him exclaimed :
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 33 
 
 " I had a grievous suspicion long ago that this 
 hoary hypocrite would play me false ; and indeed 
 his great unwillingness to show the deed led me to 
 think that he meditated some deadly wrong." 
 
 ' But wherefore," inquired the chief, " should 
 there be messengers to Halton with news and cre- 
 dentials so explicit that the estate was left without 
 let or encumbrance to the Lady Fitz-Eustace? A 
 web of mystery is here which we will speedily un- 
 ravel. Who gave thee this deed? and wherefore 
 shouldest thou conceal it?" said he, addressing the 
 hermit. 
 
 " Roger de Fitz-Eustace," replied the prisoner, 
 " thine honour is abused. That lying instrument 
 was never in my charge." 
 
 " Why hast thou refused to render up the 
 deed?" ' 
 
 " Lest it should fall into the hands of robbers and 
 thou shouldst be cheated of thine inheritance. This 
 traitor hath long had an eye to the possession." 
 
 " 'Tis his," returned the baron sternly, " by this 
 good title." 
 
 " 'Tis a false — a base attempt put forth by this 
 cut-purse to wrest it from thee. Search him, and 
 if thou findest not another, and of a different tenor, 
 hidden about his goodly person let me die a trai- 
 tor's death." 
 
 " My lord de Fitz-Eustace," said the dean— but 
 Roger de Lacy looked displeased to be reminded so 
 soon of his lost powers — " your ear and mine have 
 been too long abused by this plotting wizard. He 
 is now subjected to my authority. Hereby do I 
 assume the rights and arraign the culprit before my 
 tribunal." 
 
 D
 
 34 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 The ambitious man approached the judgment-seat 
 and began to ascend it when the hermit, with a 
 desperate effort, burst from his bonds, and ere the 
 guards could arrest him had grasped his adversary 
 by the throat. 
 
 " Traitor, I warned thee beforetime. Now will 
 I unrobe thy villainy." 
 
 The hermit, thrusting one hand beneath the gar- 
 ment of his victim, drew forth the real deed, which 
 had been dexterously exchanged by the wily priest 
 for his own false document. He then loosened his 
 grasp, and placed the real document in the hands of 
 the baron. i 
 
 " 'Tis a forgery — a base disposal of my rights," 
 roared out the detected hypocrite. 
 
 But Roger de Lacy immediately saw that the deed 
 was to a similar purport with the copy which had 
 been sent by some unknown hand, immediately on 
 the death of the testator, to Halton Castle. With a 
 look of devouring and terrible rage he cried out: 
 
 " Thou shalt not escape my vengeance, thou dar- 
 ing priest ! To the Furca ! — his offence is repugnant 
 to my nostrils — 'tis rank with treason ! " 
 
 "Hold!" cried the mysterious hermit. " I have 
 promised him protection, nor shall the promise be 
 foregone." ' 
 
 " Our vengeance slumbereth not," said the chief; 
 " the sentence is gone forth; he dies ere sunset." 
 
 " Not so," replied the hermit, again assuming 
 the attitude of command. 
 
 "By the beard of Hugh Lupus, he dieth." 
 
 " He doth, but not by thy decree." 
 
 "How! Methinks the fever of disloyalty hath' 
 seized you all. He dies, I tell thee."
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 35 
 
 " I have promised," said the hermit again, with 
 the confidence of careless superiority. 
 
 Adam de Dutton, who had hitherto been waiting 
 anxiously for an opportunity to communicate with 
 his lord, now whispered something in his ear. 
 
 "How!' said the amazed chieftain; "'tis said 
 thou wearest the badge of our house, and art thyself 
 under some disguise." 
 
 " I wear no disguise," returned the hermit calmly; 
 " what thou seest is my badge, and will be, Heaven 
 permitting, until I die." 
 
 "Who art thou?" 
 
 " I was an outcast, a leper, though heir to a vast 
 heritage. I vowed that if prayer would cleanse me 
 from my stains I would consecrate my life to 
 Heaven. I washed in yonder holy well which gushes 
 from the rock. Its virtues had been reported to 
 me. Washing daily with faith and prayer, I was 
 healed. I found close by a convenient hermitage; 
 many secret chambers and hidden passages had been 
 dug therefrom, by which I could pass to and fro 
 and thus visit the castle unseen. I was the con- 
 fessor and companion of Robert de Lacy. At my 
 desire he left the whole of the domains to the Fitz- 
 Eustace. But thou art not the eldest-born of thy 
 father." 
 
 " My eldest brother has long been dead. He 
 was a leper ; his cruel disease drove him from the 
 haunts of men ; the last we knew of him, he went 
 forth with a cup or clapper as they are wont. Soon 
 after news arrived of his decease." 
 
 " Was he not driven forth by rude and cruel 
 taunts?" said the hermit, gazing with unaverted eye 
 on the haughty chieftain. " This noble birth and
 
 36 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 heritage are mine I Behold 'tis thus I repay your 
 injustice." 
 
 He threw off his cloak; underneath appeared a 
 complete suit of proof armour and a sur-coat, on 
 which was emblazoned the badge of the Fitz-Eustace. 
 
 " I am Richard Fitz-Eustace, thine elder brother! 
 Nay, put off that brow of discontent. I claim not 
 my birthright; the vows of Heaven are upon me, 
 and to thee and thine will this good inheritance 
 devolve. One right only do I claim— this prisoner 
 is free. He sheltered me and had pity on my 
 infirmity. He thinks there is injustice in the deed, 
 but not to him shall the atonement come. Thou 
 hast a daughter; by her this rankling wound shall 
 be healed. If so be that he have found favour in 
 her sight, let her and the son of de Whalley be 
 joined together in wedlock, for my word is gone 
 forth — his blood mingles with ours." 
 
 The whole assembly were astounded at this thril- 
 ling discovery; the baron would have embraced his 
 brother, but the gloomy ascetic forbade. He left 
 the hall, returned to the cell, and but a short period 
 passed ere the grave he had prepared with his own 
 hands was closed over him. 
 
 Maud was shortly afterwards united to Geoffery 
 de Whalley, to whom her father granted the Villa 
 de Tunley or Townley, and the Manor of Coldcoats, 
 with Snod worth as a marriage portion. 
 
 Soon afterwards died Robert de Whalley, his de- 
 parture hastened, it is said, by grief and chagrin at 
 the loss of these long-coveted possessions. 
 
 Roger de Lacy died ist October, A.D. 121 1, 
 after a long and active life spent between his ardu- 
 ous wars and invasions of the Welsh, and his no less
 
 CLITHEROE CASTLE 37 
 
 arduous journeyings to and fro between the castles 
 of Clitheroe and Pontefract, where he spent the 
 latter part of his days. He was succeeded by John 
 de Lacy, his eldest son, who by marriage with Mar- 
 garet, daughter and co-heiress of Robert, son of de 
 Quincey, Earl of Winchester, became Earl of Lin- 
 coln by patent from Henry III, the monarch having 
 regranted this title to him and his heirs for ever.
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 
 
 One stormy night, in the autumn of the year 1324, 
 mine host of the " Merry Maypole," a tavern of 
 great resort by the market cross, in the good 
 borough of Wigan, was awakened from a deep sleep. 
 The door which opened into a low porch projecting 
 from the thatch, was assailed by loud and repeated 
 blows. Giles, unable to endure these thundering 
 appeals to his hospitality, presently told his wife to 
 go down and discover the cause of the disturbance. 
 
 " Nay," said Madge, " thou hast gotten thee two 
 as nimble legs, by thine own reckoning, as any 
 knave i' the borough. I shall e'en keep to my bed, 
 goodman, though these guzzle-throats hammer till 
 cock-crow. They are at the right side of the door, 
 I trow." 
 
 It was no time for argument, and as there was 
 something of decision in Madge's voice, Giles 
 jumped out of bed, drew on his doublet and hose, 
 and groped his way down the ladder that led to the 
 lower room, to learn the quality and condition of 
 the stranger. 
 
 ' Hulloa, friend! Thy name?" shouted mine host, 
 placing his hand on the latch. 
 
 ' Open the door for the love of mercy," cried the 
 strange voice. 
 
 Giles drew back ; the love of mercy was nothing 
 to him. " Some sturdy beggar or mendicant friar," 
 
 38
 
 MAB'S CROSS
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 39 
 
 thought he, " that knocks at my door because the 
 chantry gates are shut." And then, 'Hence," he 
 cried aloud; " I know thee not." 
 
 " Goodman, give me a night's lodging, and I will 
 reward thee "■ — the door flew open at once — " with 
 a palmer's blessing," continued the stranger, advanc- 
 ing towards the wan embers that yet flickered on the 
 hearth. 
 
 " Thanks are poor recompense," growled the dis- 
 appointed tapster, as he looked gloomily at the new- 
 comer, who was clad in a dark cloak. His hood, 
 partly thrown back, showed grey hairs upon the 
 head ; his cheek was pale and weather-beaten ; but 
 the eyes were bright, and though a slight furrow, 
 from the nostrils around each corner of a narrow 
 mouth, gave an expression of scorn to the face, yet 
 his smile was kind. His beard was grey and long ; 
 his height above the ordinary; his humble dress ill 
 concealed a proud and commanding figure. He 
 seated himself on a low stool, and honest Giles, 
 whose courage was not equal to open warfare, though 
 disappointment had sharpened his temper, thus ad- 
 dressed him: 
 
 " What ails ye to disturb honest folks i' their beds 
 at these hours? You might have tarried i' your last 
 baiting place — at any rate till the kye were astir. 
 I wonder the guard let you pass at the gate. But 
 since these evil days have o'ershadowed the land, 
 every braggart has license to do as he list, and 
 the monks and friars are the worst of all. Old 
 Cliderhow, the parson here, thought to have waged 
 war with his betters, but we whipt him up by his 
 heels for his treason." 
 
 " Is Cliderhow alive?" inquired the stranger.
 
 40 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 "They say he bides at Haigh," answered Giles, 
 " roistering it with the Welsh knight there, Sir 
 Osmund Neville. I warrant Sir William's substance 
 runs gaily down the old parson's throat." 
 
 Here the palmer threw the hood over his brows. 
 Suddenly he arose and strode rapidly across the 
 room, murmuring in a subdued but bitter tone: 
 
 "Sir Osmund Neville, Sir Osmund Neville." 
 
 ' Giles Dauber ! What keeps ye so long there 
 a-gossiping?" shouted a shrill voice from above. 
 It was Mistress Dauber, who, resolutely determined 
 not to budge at her husband's bidding, had, as she 
 lay, listened to but little purpose. Finding it was no 
 everyday guest, she crept to the ladder-head and 
 gave ear for a little while; but now fearing .that 
 Giles might fall into some snare from his ready- 
 mouthed opinions regarding the unsettled temper 
 and aspect of the time, she thought fit to break 
 abruptly on the discourse ere it should lead to some 
 dangerous forbidden subject. He had, however, hit 
 upon a favourite subject, and moreover he was now 
 evidently loth to leave his guest ere he had learnt 
 the nature of his errand to these parts. "An o'er 
 sea pilgrim," as they were styled, was too choice an 
 arrival for a petty hostel, especially in those times 
 when newspapers and posts were not circulating daily 
 and hourly through the land— to let slip an oppor- 
 tunity of inquiring about the King of Scotland, as 
 Robert Bruce was then called, or about His Majesty, 
 the Sultan Solyman. 
 
 To bed ! To bed ! Thou are ready enough 
 to rise when thou art not bidden to rise. To bed, 
 I say!" angrily shouted the disturbed Giles. 
 
 ' Hast thou a wife?" sternly inquired the pilgrim.
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 41 
 
 " A wife! Marry have I," exclaimed Giles, " and 
 here she comes." Finding the interview was likely 
 to be long and interesting, our hostess of the " May- 
 pole " thought it no less than her duty to take at 
 least her full share in the discussions and the dis- 
 closures which might be in store. So down she 
 came, and made a deep curtsey to the pilgrim. But 
 he was so much occupied with other concerns that 
 he scarcely noticed her approach. 
 
 "How may Sir Osmund Neville be known?" he 
 asked shortly; "his quality and appearance — tell 
 me." 
 
 " A rightly goodly person and a brave gentle- 
 man. He gave me a kiss and a pair of mittens to 
 boot, the last choosing of knights to the Parliament," 
 quickly answered the dame. 
 
 " Hold thy tongue, Madge," angrily exclaimed 
 Giles. " Good father, heed not a woman. Sir 
 Osmund is both lean and ill-favoured. Had ye seen 
 Lady Mabel's first husband, Sir William Bradshaigh 
 — God rest his soul ; he was killed in the wars — you 
 would have marvelled that she drank the scum after 
 the broth." 
 
 " Lady Mabel and Sir Osmund are now at 
 Haigh?" cautiously inquired the palmer. 
 
 " You have business there belike?" sharply asked 
 the indefatigable host. 
 
 " I have slight matters that require my presence 
 at the Hall. Does the knight go much abroad, or 
 keeps he close house?" 
 
 ' Why, look ye, it is some three months or so 
 since I smelt the fat from her ladyship's kitchen." 
 
 " I think, good stranger," interposed Madge, " the 
 knight does keep house of late. Grim told me that
 
 42 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 last week he was a-sporting once only by way of the 
 higher park, and appears something more soured and 
 moody than usual. If thou crave speech with him, 
 though to-morrow be almous-dayat the Hall, the poor 
 have free admission, and thou mayest have a sight of 
 him there ; peradventure as thou art strange in these 
 parts thou wilt need a guide." 
 
 " And just ready for the job thyself, I'se warrant," 
 bitterly snarled Giles, whose anger was on the point 
 of bursting forth. 
 
 The palmer with quiet and holy words was able 
 to stay the quarrel, but told the host and his eager 
 wife that he should need no guide as the Hall could 
 be easily seen from every quarter. He seemed to 
 desire no rest, and Giles was too sulky to inquire 
 his wants. The dame, however, drew a bundle of 
 clean straw from a huge heap, and threw it beside 
 the hearth. A coarse and heavy rug, over which was 
 spread a sheep-skin with the wool innermost, made 
 a warm though homely bed. A horn-cup filled with 
 cider, and a burnt barley cake were next brought 
 forth, and from these the palmer made a simple but 
 wholesome meal. 
 
 Giles growled off to the loft above, whither his 
 wife followed him. 
 
 Morning shone brightly and cheerfully through 
 the chinks and crevices of door and lattice, but the 
 pilgrim's couch was yet unsought. His vigils had 
 been undisturbed, save when the baying of dogs, 
 or the lusty carol of some valiant yeoman reeling 
 home started him from a painful thought which had 
 taken possession of his mind.
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 43 
 
 It was late ere Giles awoke. Breathless with 
 curiosity he hastened below, expecting a rich budget 
 of news from his guest; but he was gone. It was 
 one of those fresh and glittering mornings which 
 only autumn gives. The keen pure air tinged the 
 cheeks with ruddy health, and made the whole frame 
 buoyant and elastic with vigour. A slight hoar frost 
 yet lay on the thatched roofs. 
 
 The pilgrim entered a narrow street leading to the 
 postern or gate called Standish-gate. In those days 
 it was not as now, a wide thoroughfare for man and 
 beast. This was one of four gates of the town, 
 the others being Wallgate, Hallgate, Millgate. Each 
 gate where the toll bars now stand was once a heavy 
 barrier of stout beams thickly studded with iron, 
 and at night they were generally guarded and 
 bolted by the mayor's halberdiers. An irregular 
 wall encompassed the town, save on the eastern side, 
 where the burghers held that the River Douglas 
 was sufficient defence. Round the wall ran a broad 
 ditch ; a bridge of rough-hewn planks at three of 
 the entrances gave free communication with the 
 suburbs, except during times of strife which un- 
 happily were not rare. Before the Millgate a wider 
 and more substantial structure, mounted on huge 
 wooden props, served as a bridge over the river. It 
 could be raised in case of siege, and effectually 
 separated the inhabitants from their enemies. The 
 first beams of the sun began to peep through the 
 angles of the wooden gables which projected nearly 
 midway across the street. The stranger paused not, 
 but climbed the hill with an alertness and ^agility 
 which seemed beyond his years. At the gate he 
 was not challenged; his religious dress was his
 
 44 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 passport. Three or four of the guards were loiter- 
 ing and laughing on a couple of benches built in 
 an arched recess on each side of the gateway. As 
 the pilgrim passed they became silent, bowing rever- 
 ently as he blessed them. 
 
 Outside the barriers the pilgrim followed a narrow 
 and beaten track ; it was bordered on each side by 
 a deep ditch nearly overgrown with weeds and 
 brambles. He travelled fast, but an hour had nearly 
 passed ere he gained the brow of a hill, not very 
 high but affording a wide view of the surrounding 
 country. From the east came a rich flood of sun- 
 light, melting the delicate frost work. Southward 
 lay the borough, though the broad tower of All 
 Saints alone was visible, rising from the mist which 
 hid the church itself. A bell sounded heavily 
 through the quiet air; its long and lingering echoes 
 came to the pilgrim like the voice of other years — 
 of hopes that had for ever departed. Westward 
 might be seen the curl of blue smoke from the 
 Priory of Up-Holland. But it was northward that 
 the pilgrim turned his keenest gaze. The mansion 
 of Haigh stood at the end of a broad slope covered 
 with shady woods which were now falling into the 
 warm and luxuriant tints of autumn. The dark, 
 heavy turrets grimly caught the first gleam of the 
 morning ; a tower of great strength and size rose 
 above the principal gateway. It was apparently 
 designed to overlook the whole building; a refuge 
 for the besieged; a stronghold in case of attack. 
 Narrow loopholes might be seen here and there in 
 the masonry, and at the summit stood a small turret 
 like a large chair, from which on occasion waved 
 the richly emblazoned escutcheon of the Norris and
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 45 
 
 Bradshaigh. The staff was just visible, but no flag 
 was to be seen. 
 
 'Sir William's birthday is forgotten!" cried the 
 stranger. ' That staff opened a gay blossom to the 
 breeze ten years ago. It is the day and the very 
 hour of Sir William's birth. Nature is the same — 
 bright, joyous, unchanging ! Man, man alone 
 changes ! His days are full of mourning and bitter- 
 ness." 
 
 He bowed his head, almost crouching to the 
 ground in his grief. Suddenly he was aroused by 
 a smart blow on the back and a loud and discordant 
 laugh struck harshly on his ear. Starting, he saw a 
 figure of low and unshapely stature clothed in a 
 fantastic dress. A round cap, slouched in front, 
 fitted closely to the head of the intruder, who was 
 decked with ear-bangles and rings of various sizes, 
 which jingled oddly as he twisted his head from side 
 to side with a knowing grin. His feet and legs 
 were cased in large leather boots with ample flaps 
 turning down from the knee. Round his neck he 
 wore an iron collar, whether for punishment or deco- 
 ration is uncertain. The face which was extra- 
 ordinarily large projected from between shoulders 
 humped so high that they seemed to overlook the rim 
 of his cap. Matted and shaggy the twisted locks 
 hung wildly about his brow, while a short and frizzled 
 beard scantily covered his chin. A Sheffield whittle 
 stuck in his baldric, and in a pouch was deposited 
 the remnant of a magnificent pasty. 
 
 With arms akimbo this strange personage, a figure 
 of rudeness and disorder, stood before the pilgrim, 
 who tightened his cloak around him and withdrew 
 three or four paces from his companion.
 
 46 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Nuncle," said the jester — for such in fact he 
 was — " I wonder why master keeps a fool? I bethink 
 me 'tis for his wit — more wit and less honesty 
 though." 
 
 The palmer was silent. 
 
 "Art going to the Hall?" he went on. "The 
 fool is whipt there for being honest. Have a care, 
 nuncle, if Sir Osmund catch thee thou hadst as good 
 bequeath thy bones to the Pope — I'm very sad, 
 nuncle." 
 
 "Sad," said the pilgrim; "in good troth, an 
 thou be sad, the cock of the Hall yonder is but in 
 sorry plight." 
 
 'Tis more wholesome to cry to-day," said the 
 knave, " knowing that ye shall laugh to-morrow, 
 than to laugh to-day and to cry to-morrow." 
 
 < 
 " Be merry to-morrow ; to-day, to-day 
 Your belly-full fill of grief; 
 When sorrow hath supped, go play, go play, 
 For mirth I wot is brief." 
 
 i 
 " Ay, grandame, ye are wise; and an old woman's 
 wit best becomes a fool: 
 
 " When sorrow hath supped, go play, go play, 
 For mirth I wot is brief." 
 
 He drew out the last notes in a ridiculously plain- 
 tive way, which brought a smile even to the sad 
 features of the pilgrim. 
 
 'Art bound for the Hall?" again asked the in- 
 quisitive hunchback. 
 
 'Yes, friend; whither else? Is it not almous- 
 day, and thinkest thou that the houseless and the 
 wandering pilgrim will not share of the largess?"
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 47 
 
 The jester replied with an impudent whistle ; then, 
 after eyeing the palmer for several moments with 
 a keen and scrutinising glance, broke away from 
 him with a shout of malicious laughter, and was soon 
 lost in a deep wood, the outskirt of a wide-spread- 
 ing forest. 
 
 The traveller's brow gathered a heavier gloom. 
 He hastened forward and was soon threading a deep 
 and narrow path to the mansion. Near the bridge 
 over the moat stood Darby Grimshaw the black- 
 smith's hovel, conveniently placed for all job work 
 from the armoury and kitchen, and a general resort 
 for all the idlers in the neighbourhood. Grim was 
 a shrewd fellow and a bold one. A humorous and 
 inquisitive cunning lurked in the corner of his grey 
 and restless eye. His curiosity could never be satis- 
 fied, and as cross-questioner when fairly at work, 
 for worming out a secret, he had not his equal. His 
 brain was a receptacle for odd scraps of informa- 
 tion, a reservoir into which flowed all the stray news 
 about the country. 
 
 Towards Grim's abode the traveller bent his steps. 
 A thick smoke hovered about the thatch, which 
 looked as if it had been contrived so as to catch 
 and feed any stray spark that might lodge in it. 
 Several times, indeed, the hut had been burnt down, 
 but it had been easily rebuilt and soon was as 
 dirty and untidy as of old. Darby was just kind- 
 ling a fire ; a merrymaking over night had trenched 
 upon his morning's duties, and daylight found him 
 still stretched upon his bed. But a noisy company 
 from the Hall had ere now roused him from his deep 
 slumbers. 
 
 "St. George protect thee, honest friend,"
 
 48 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 cried the stranger, as he stood by an open- 
 ing which seemed to serve both for door and for 
 chimney. Darby, unable to see for the smoke, has- 
 tened to the entrance. He was much surprised, 
 but did not forget to greet the pilgrim with be- 
 coming reverence, and invited him into the only 
 room besides the workshop which he could call his 
 own. This served as parlour, bedroom, and kitchen, 
 and here Grim's wife carried on her many and 
 various duties. 
 
 The busy housewife fetched a stool, first clearing 
 it from dust, while her husband threw a fresh faggot 
 on the fire. She was just preparing breakfast; — a 
 wooden porringer, filled to the brim with new milk 
 in which oatmeal was stirred; a rasher of salted 
 mutton, and a large cake of coarse bread, together 
 with a piece of cold venison from the Hall, were to 
 make the meal. 
 
 " This," said the old woman, pointing to the 
 venison, " is not of our own killing; it comes from 
 Dan, who has care of the knight's buttery." 
 
 " Sir Osmund grudges every mouth about him," 
 growled the smith; "but" — and here he looked 
 wonderfully knowing — " he may be ousted yet." 
 
 " Sir Osmund, I find, is no favourite with his 
 neighbours." 
 
 " Hang him," replied Grim, first having looked 
 cautiously into the shop; "there is not a man of 
 us but would like to see him and his country- 
 men packed off to-morrow. If Sir William had 
 been alive I had spoken out without fear. He 
 was a loyal knight and true; he ever served his 
 country and his king. But I bethink me ye may 
 have heard of our late master's death, and who
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 49 
 
 knows but ye bring some token, pilgrim, to his 
 lady?" 
 
 ' Thou hast shrewdly guessed — I bear the last mes- 
 sage that Sir William sent to his lady ; thinkest thou 
 it maybe delivered without the knight's knowledge?" 
 
 " Save thee, father! peril betides him who would 
 hazard a message to my lady without her husband's 
 leave." 
 
 " Is the Lady Mabel in health, and the children?" 
 inquired the stranger. 
 
 " Sorely did she grieve when tidings came of 
 Sir William's death in the great battle; but sorer 
 still rues she her wedding with Sir Osmund Neville ! 
 Poor soul, it would melt the nails out of a rusty 
 horse-shoe to see how she moans herself, when she 
 can steal away to her chamber." 
 
 ' ' How came she to wed this churl ? ' ' 
 
 " Oh, 'tis a sorry history I " The speaker paused, 
 and it was at the pilgrim's entreaty that he thus 
 continued: 
 
 " Parson Cliderhow had his paw in the mischief. 
 She was in a manner forced to wed, or in the end 
 to have found herself and her children with never 
 a roof over their heads." 
 
 " How? Sir William did not leave her portion- 
 less?" 
 
 " I know not, but Sir Osmund had, or pretended 
 he had, got a grant from the Earl of Lancaster for 
 possession of all that belonged to Sir William as a 
 reward for his great services, and unless she wed 
 him — why, you may guess what follows when a lone 
 woman is left in such a man's clutches. I shall 
 never forget their wedding-day ; it should rather 
 have been her burying, by the look of it." 
 
 E
 
 50 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 The palmer had drawn closer to the fire, and sat 
 leaning over his staff. Suddenly he rose, tightened 
 his sandals, and looked round as if he meant to 
 depart. 
 
 Tis our master's birthday," Grim went on, for 
 he loved to have a listener. " Ten years ago there 
 was free commons at the Hall for man and beast. 
 Now, save on almous-days, when some half a dozen 
 old bodies get a snatch at the broken meat, not a 
 man of us thrusts his nose into the knight's buttery, 
 but by stealth. Sir William's banner has not been 
 hoisted as it was wont on this day, since he left 
 with fifty armed men in his train to help the king, 
 then hard pressed in the Scottish Wars. Ye may 
 get an alms among the poor to-day, but have an 
 eye to the Welsh bowmen; these be the knight's 
 guard, and they hold not the quality of his guests 
 in much regard." 
 
 Here the smith was interrupted by Daniel Hard- 
 seg, a sort of deputy house-steward whose duty it 
 was to look after all business not immediately con- 
 nected with the special departments of the house- 
 hold. 
 
 " Why a murrain to thee, goodman Grim, thy 
 fire is colder than my halidome. Here have I two 
 iron pots, a plate from my master's best greaves, 
 and a pair of spurs that want piecing, and I'm like 
 to tinker them as I may on a cold stithy. Get out 
 
 thou " Here he became aware of the presence 
 
 of the stranger, and this checked his tongue a mo- 
 ment. Darby drew him aside, and from their looks 
 it might be gathered that some scheme was being 
 laid for the pilgrim's safe admission at the Hall. 
 Presently Dan said in a louder tone:
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 51 
 
 ' Why, look here, gossip, it were as much as my 
 lugs were worth, but I'll e'en try." 
 
 " We shall hear some news of Sir William, depend 
 upon it, an thou get him a word with my lady." 
 
 " And what the better of that shall I be? Dead 
 men make no porridge hot," simply retorted Dan. 
 
 " Go to," replied the other, " 'tis but setting 
 Maud on the scent. I warrant thee she'll sharpen 
 her wits for the work. It will be a grievous pity 
 that he depart and whisper not his message to her 
 ladyship. Thou wilt soon squeeze the secret out of 
 Maud; then comes Darby's turn." 
 
 Dan looked rather sullen, evidently thinking of 
 peril and mischance. But at last the stranger was 
 placed in his charge, and to do him justice Hardseg 
 did his best in the business he had undertaken. 
 
 Passing by a low wall to the north-east of the 
 mansion they were soon hidden by a terrace which 
 stood in such a way as to be useful in time of siege 
 as a cover from which to attack the enemy. At an 
 angle of the shelter stood a small door to which' 
 Dan applied a heavy key, and beckoning to his 
 companion they ascended a narrow staircase, off 
 which opened a private entrance to the chapel. As 
 they passed the half-closed door, a gruff voice was 
 heard reading the service for the day. Dan stepped 
 cautiously by and motioned the stranger to tread 
 softly. 
 
 " Praised be old Cliderhbw's tough pipe," said 
 Dan, when fairly out of hearing. "Ha, ha! sit 
 down, good father " — opening a half-door as he 
 laughed, and thrusting in the pilgrim — " nobody can 
 hear aught besides when he is fairly going." 
 
 The room into which Dan had pushed his guest
 
 52 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 was his store-room, where a strange collection of 
 thing's were piled together. Pans, wooden bowls, 
 broadswords, and helmets were heaped upon boots 
 of home manufacture ; saddles and harness-knives ; 
 brown bottles of coarse pottery, and many a grim- 
 looking weapon of bloodthirsty appearance. From 
 the walls there hung cloaks, hats, and body gear of 
 all shapes and colours. Dan was steward of the 
 wardrobe and furniture keeper to most of the idle 
 retainers of the Hall, and for want of any order or 
 arrangement much time was often wasted in rum- 
 maging amongst this chaos for any article that was 
 required. The stranger was installed upon a round 
 stool, the only unoccupied place, except the ceiling, 
 and Dan departed with a knowing wink. Waiting 
 for the return of his patron the pilgrim was roused 
 from his thoughts by a greeting from the jester, 
 Humphrey Lathom, or Daft Humpy as he was mostly 
 called. 
 
 ' Eh, nuncle, but if Dan catch thee he'll be sure 
 to give thee a lift in the stocks." 
 
 This strange creature cautiously opened the door, 
 and became almost lost in the fearful disorder. By 
 his manner and from the fearful glances he cast at 
 the door it seemed that this was not his first visit 
 to Dan's store-room, and further, that he had been 
 detected and punished for the offence. He was 
 evidently in search of some object from amidst the 
 various heaps of lumber he overthrew, as a low 
 mutter with each fresh attack showed impatience 
 and disappointment. Suddenly he drew forth a large 
 roll, exclaiming with absurd cries of delight: 
 
 " I have thee now! The buck's horns shall soon 
 butt this great Welsh goat from his pen."
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 53 
 
 He opened the banner. It was the pennon of 
 the Bradshaigh, thrown aside in dust and decay. 
 
 " Don't tell Dan, nuncle, and thou shalt see rare 
 sport." 
 
 He said this with his usual familiar tone, but 
 suddenly putting his mouth to the stranger's ear 
 he whispered. The words could not be heard, save 
 by him for whom they were meant, and in an instant 
 he darted away hiding the spoil in the folds of his 
 cloak. Shortly afterwards Dan made his appear- 
 ance. With wonder and dismay he looked at the 
 disorder in his treasure-house. 
 
 " Beshrew me thou art a restless tenant. I did 
 not tell thee to tumble my wardrobe into haycocks." 
 
 " I was long a- watching," said the pilgrim, " and 
 in good troth I became over-curious to know the 
 capacity of thy sty. What tidings from my lady's 
 chamber?" 
 
 " A plague on her husband's humours. Maud says 
 it were as much as her life was worth to get thee 
 a private audience, but she hath urged my lady to 
 distribute the alms herself to-day; so betake thee 
 to the kitchen, and Maud will contrive thou shalt 
 have some token of approach. Mercy on us, but 
 thou hast bestirred thee bravely; another such 
 guest and I might as well set fire to the whole 
 budget." 
 
 Dan led the way to the kitchen. It was a vast 
 and smoky den such as could only exist in those 
 days of feudal greatness. An immense furnace was 
 fed by huge blocks of wood which the flame seized 
 and devoured in a moment. Indistinct forms flitted 
 past this blaze, the sputtering and crackling of which, 
 mingled with the hissing of the roasting food and
 
 54 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 the shrill voice of the cook, caused the pilgrim to 
 seek the most remote corner he could find in which 
 to wait the promised signal. On a long stone bench 
 lay heaps of broken meat ready to be given to the 
 groups of beggars who were now waiting without 
 the gate. From the low rafters hung dried mutton, 
 bacon, and deers' tongues, wreathed in curls of 
 smoke. 
 
 It was not long before a pert waiting-maid ap- 
 proached. She drew up her short linsey-woolsey 
 garments, lest any corner of them should touch the 
 floor, and raising her chin she thus addressed the 
 servants : ■ 
 
 " My lady bids ye bring the dole quickly into 
 the great hall. She attends to-day in person. When 
 the bell rings " — looking towards the pilgrim as 
 she spoke — " my lady leaves her chamber." 
 
 Maud went away with the same contemptuous 
 air. The bell was immediately heard, and the 
 stranger went down to the hall, where he found 
 the doors wide open and a crowd of men and 
 women begging for relief from their various forms 
 of distress. 
 
 Most of them looked towards a side-door in the 
 upper part of which was a slide from which the 
 alms were usually distributed when the Lady Mabel 
 did not appear. It was soon whispered amongst 
 the crowd that she who had lived in retirement so 
 long would that day distribute her own bounty. 
 
 The tinkling of the bell ceased, and suddenly 
 the door flew open. Lady Mabel and her maidens 
 entered. The crowd fell back as she approached. 
 Tall and commanding, she passed on with slow and 
 majestic steps to the upper division of the hall,
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 55 
 
 where the dais raised her slightly above the level 
 of the multitude. 
 
 She was habited in deep mourning; her veil, 
 falling in cumbrous folds, reached almost to her 
 feet, hiding her face from the eyes of the specta- 
 tors. A number of servitors now entered, bearing 
 the food together with some articles of winter cloth- 
 ing. The upper table was filled, and the deep silence 
 showed the awe and respect which all felt in her 
 presence. She raised her veil and showed her face, 
 pale from long grief but still young and beautiful. 
 Her hair showed not a ringlet, but was dressed with 
 severe simplicity, which seemed to increase the deep 
 sorrow of her expression. 
 
 She waved her hand; one by one the mendicants 
 came to her, each with a simple tale of suffering 
 and want. Those in distress were comforted, and 
 the careless reproved, but each had a share of her 
 gifts ere he withdrew. 
 
 The hall was nearly cleared ; yet the palmer sat 
 as if still awaiting audience behind a distant pillar. 
 The last of the alms had been given ere he rose, 
 bending lowly as she approached. The eye of the 
 noble dame was suddenly fixed on him. She was 
 leaning in front of her maidens beside a richly 
 carved canopy of state, and behind her was a long 
 and brightly coloured window, which poured down 
 a glow of light upon her form. 
 
 "Reverend pilgrim, thy behest?" She said this 
 with a shudder of fear, as if dreading an answer to 
 her inquiry. 
 
 The pilgrim spoke not, but advanced. The at- 
 tendants drew aside, and amidst a deep silence the 
 pilgrim took from his vest a silver ring.
 
 56 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 The Lady Mabel grasped the well-known signet, 
 and exclaimed with deep anguish: 
 
 "My husband's signet! Where? Whence came 
 this pledge? Speak!" 
 
 A pause of terrible suspense followed before the 
 pilgrim answered in a low tone: 
 
 " Lady, it is a bequest from thy husband. It 
 was his wife's last pledge — a seal of unchanging 
 fidelity. He bade me seek his dame and say, ' His 
 last sigh was for her — his last wish to Heaven.' " 
 
 Lady Mabel listened — every word sank like a 
 barbed arrow to her heart. The voice was not like 
 that of her dead husband, yet was she so greatly, 
 affected by the suffering she had gone through that 
 she listened to jt as though it were a voice from 
 the tomb. 
 
 " For the love I bore and yet bear to his most 
 honoured name tell me, I conjure thee, tell me his 
 earthly resting-place? My last pilgrimage shall be 
 thither. His shrine shall be a place of our union 
 where we shall no more part." 
 
 " What recks it, lady? Thou hast gotten thee 
 another ! " said the pilgrim. 
 
 "Another! Oh! name him not, he took advan- 
 tage of my bereavement — a moment of weakness 
 and maternal terror. By what long ages of suffering 
 and wretchedness has it been repaid ! Better had 
 I beheld my babies wasting with hunger than have 
 mated with this unpitying husband, for a home and 
 a morsel of bread." 
 
 A flash of scorn at her own weakness came over 
 her for a moment. She looked round to bid the 
 attendants withdraw, and became aware for the first 
 time of the hated presence of Roger de Cliderhow
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 57 
 
 watching this unexpected scene with great surprise. 
 He departed with the retinue, leaving the Lady Mabel 
 and the pilgrim for a while unobserved. 
 
 "Mabel Bradshaigh I " It was the voice of Sir 
 William. 
 
 She started as at a summons from the grave. 
 No form was there but that of the pilgrim bend- 
 ing over his staff. Slowly the hood of the pilgrim 
 was lifted. He threw off his disguise. But oh, 
 how changed was the once athletic form of Sir 
 William Bradshaigh ! With a wild and piercing 
 shriek she flew towards the outstretched arms of her 
 husband; but ere they met a figure stepped between 
 them barring their approach. It was the ungainly 
 person of Sir Osmund Neville. 
 
 ' Nay, nay, take thy gallantry elsewhere, palmer." 
 With this rude speech he was preparing to lay hands 
 on the lady, who stood stupefied and unable to 
 offer the least resistance. 
 
 'To me, this insult! I'll chase thee from thy 
 lair I " exclaimed the incensed Sir William. 
 
 Roger de Cliderhow appeared at this moment in 
 great alarm. He whispered Sir Osmund: 
 
 " Tis Sir William ! Thou hast no time for parley. 
 If his coming get abroad, we are undone. Call 
 thy men and let him be taken away secretly. The 
 dungeon will tell no tales; I'll summon them. If 
 the servants get a whisper of the matter, I'll give 
 out he is an impostor." 
 
 It was but the work of a moment. Sir Osmund 
 had taken care to prevent escape, and Sir William 
 and his lady were imprisoned at the mercy of a 
 cruel and cowardly foe. 
 
 Sir William had thrown off his cloak and the
 
 58 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 remainder of his disguise. He now stood proudly 
 before the usurper, who was partly stunned by these 
 unexpected events. 
 
 " I defy thee to the combat; hast thou the grace 
 to give me a weapon, or art thou as cowardly as 
 thou art presuming?" 
 
 " Impostor! Wouldst thou have me believe every 
 wish that folly creates? To the proof!' sullenly, 
 replied Sir Osmund. 
 
 " What says the Lady Mabel? Let her decide," 
 returned the other. 
 
 "She!" cried the villain with a contemptuous 
 sneer; " her wits are so set upon it that she would 
 favour any ill-favoured lout that should call himself 
 her husband." 
 
 " Tis false, unblushing as thou art," the lightning 
 kindled in the lady's eye as she spoke. Sir Osmund 
 quailed beneath her glance. 
 
 " Am I mad?" she continued. " Ay, if thy wish' 
 could have goaded me to it," her lips quivered. " I 
 have repented day and night, but mine were useless 
 tears. Oh! if I have wronged thee " — she covered 
 her face with her hands — " it was not even in thought 
 I grew unfaithful to thy trust. My babes ! in a 
 moment of weakness I looked on them as they 
 lay. I could not behold them doomed so soon to 
 misery and want. Can years of suffering atone for 
 my crime?" 
 
 " I forgive thee," cried the distracted Sir William. 
 " I blame thee not in my regret. Pure and as free 
 from guilt as when first I knew thee do I now 
 receive thee into my arms." 
 
 Sir Osmund smiled in contempt, at the same time 
 casting a furtive glance towards the side entrance,
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 59 
 
 where he heard the approach of the guard of Welsh 
 bowmen summoned by Roger de Cliderhbw. 
 
 Sir Osmund cautiously drew the bolts and pointed 
 to his foe, who was immediately seized and with 
 such rapidity that almost before Sir William was 
 aware of the design, he found himself a prisoner. 
 
 " False pilgrim," growled his enemy, "didst 
 think to foist thy fooleries upon me ! The dungeon 
 walls will give thee a patient hearing. Boast to 
 them of thy descent, and when they acknowledge 
 thee, so will I. Guards, to your duty." 
 
 Lady Mabel with a loud scream fell senseless on 
 the pavement. In vain did Sir William try to free 
 himself from the rude grasp of his jailers. He was 
 hurried along, and could scarcely hope for escape. 
 As they turned into a corridor leading towards the 
 dungeons they met Humphrey Lathom. The same 
 half-stupid, half-knavish expression of face was now 
 lighted up by a grin of absurd amazement. 
 
 " Eh, nuncle ! " said he, stroking his beard, " but 
 you are in mighty grace. The Welshman always 
 mounts his he-goats on guard for those whom he 
 delights to honour." 
 
 With one of his more than usually elvish shouts 
 he scampered past the angry sentinels, and was 
 heard running up the steps of the great tower. 
 
 During all this time Grim's curiosity was burning 
 hotly outside the walls. Every spare moment his 
 eye was turned towards the Hall — but still no tidings 
 — no messenger came from the scene of action. It 
 was mighty strange ! some rare doings were afloat 
 no doubt — and not a soul would remember honest 
 Grim. He tied and untied his apron, beat the iron 
 when it was cool, and let it cool when it was hot.
 
 60 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ' It will be noon presently." He looked at the sun; 
 it seemed to have crept backwards for the last 
 h'alf -hour. The mendicants were all gone — no news 
 to be gained from them — and he was just on the 
 point of plucking up his courage for a personal 
 inquiry at the Hall, when, taking a last peep through 
 a crevice in the wall, he saw a sight unlooked for 
 as it was strange. 
 
 He rubbed his eyes — he pinched his fingers — shook 
 himself — was he really awake? — or — he took another 
 peep — still it was there. The sight that so aston- 
 ished him was the great banner of the Bradshaigh 
 on the tower, curling full and stately in the breeze. 
 Grim was still recovering himself after this wonder, 
 when he was further alarmed by a furious ding- 
 dong — stroke upon stroke, huge, heavy, and un- 
 ceasing followed each' other in quick succession. It 
 was the great bell, used only in time of danger or 
 on important occasions, which had been silent since 
 the day of Sir William's departure. There was no 
 time for wonder. Grim rushed from his dwelling 
 feeling certain that some terrible thing had hap- 
 pened. Outside he found numbers of the bustling 
 peasantry full of inquiry, each supposing that his 
 neighbour would be able to give some reason for 
 the disturbance. 
 
 " Sir William cannot have returned," said one. 
 
 " No," replied the other, " or the buck would 
 soon butt the Welshman out of his stall." 
 
 As they 'drew nearer to the gate the bell had 
 ceased. But suddenly appeared, perched on a corner 
 of the tower, the well-known form of ' Daft 
 Humpy." He threw up his cap and caught it, and 
 whirled it round his head with every sign of joy.
 
 THE ERADSHAIGH TOMB 
 (Wigan Parish Church)
 
 MAB'S CROSS, WIGAN 61 
 
 1 Hurrah ! ' shouted he in a shrill voice, which 
 could be heard at the furthest end of the crowd. 
 'Hurrah! for Sir William Bradshaigh! he is come 
 again. Hurrah! neighbours — in — in." 
 
 He ran round and round the battlements shouting 
 incessantly. On hearing this news numbers entered 
 the gate pell-mell carrying with them some who 
 would have preferred to look on from afar, out of 
 harm's way; amongst these was Grim. The first 
 party that entered was met by Humphrey. 
 
 " Picks, axes, and spades," shouted he, flourishing 
 a stout staff. "To the dungeon! come along, come 
 along ! ' Still they gazed at one another ; none knew 
 what to do, and they had little confidence in their 
 guide. Suddenly checking himself the dwarf stood 
 as erect as he could before the astonished people. 
 
 "Ye lazy caterpillars! Ye cowardly scum of 
 humanity! If ye follow me not I'll rouse the Welsh 
 bull-dogs. Sir Osmund hath ta'en him to the 
 dungeon, I tell ye ; and who is there who will not 
 lend a hand to the rescue of Sir William Brads- 
 haigh?" 
 
 On hearing this a spark kindled Grim's courage 
 into a blaze. Seizing a cudgel he brandished it in 
 front of his comrades, like one half frantic, crying : 
 
 " It is — it is — I have seen him this blessed day. 
 Hurrah! for Sir William." 
 
 "Hurrah!" shouted the crowd, whose courage 
 growing with its numbers soon showed itself in attack 
 on the cell whence they speedily rescued their lord. 
 
 Intoxicated with joy they vowed vengeance on 
 the wicked knight who had treated them so vilely. 
 
 Sir William's first care was for the rescue of 
 his lady. She almost forgot her own sorrows on
 
 62 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 witnessing his joy when once more folding their 
 children to his embrace. 
 
 A short time passed before he sought Sir Osmund, 
 but he had fled, along with his lawless followers. 
 
 Armed, and with but few attendants, Sir William 
 pursued him, and, as old chronicles tell, at a place 
 called Newton he overtook him and slew him in 
 single combat. Returning in safety, he lived happily 
 with his lady to a good old age. They lie buried 
 in the chancel of All Saints', Wigan, where, carved 
 on their tomb, their effigies may still be seen. 
 
 The Lady Mabel deemed it necessary to perform 
 some penance for her offence. She went bare- 
 footed from Haigh to a place outside the wall at 
 Wigan where a stone was erected which bears to 
 this day the name of " Mab's Cross."
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 
 
 It was in the dark month of November, when the 
 brown leaves are fluttering on the ground, when the 
 wind comes mournfully through the bare woods, and 
 the hollow nooks and quiet caves respond with their 
 mystic voice, that two travellers were seen loitering 
 up the grand avenue that swept nobly through the 
 western embattled gateway of Whalley Abbey. The 
 foremost of them wore a low-crowned cap, simply 
 decorated with a heron's plume, and a doublet of 
 mulberry-coloured velvet, puffed out capaciously at 
 the shoulders. He had trunk-hose and wide-flapped 
 boots. On his left hand he bore a hooded falcon. 
 The jesses were of crimson and yellow silk, its legs 
 fancifully adorned with little bells fastened by rings 
 of leather. These made a jingling music as it flew. 
 The bearer wore a pair of stout leathern mittens, and 
 he carried a long pole to aid him, as it might seem, 
 in the chase. His manner bespoke him above the 
 ordinary rank, and his garb showed at any rate his 
 pretensions to nobility. This proud cavalier was 
 followed by one servant only, who carried a large 
 wallet. His master's cloak was slung on his 
 shoulder, and his belt displayed several formidable 
 weapons. 
 
 Eventide was then drawing on, but it did not 
 appear that the falcon had been loosed to the game; 
 the usual tokens of success were wanting — the torn 
 
 63
 
 64 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 and bloody carcases that marked an abundant sport. 
 Two or three of the brethren were sitting on a 
 bench in the gateway. 
 
 The sportsman, if such he was, gained a ready 
 admittance into the abbey enclosure. Passing round 
 the north transept of the church, he made the best of 
 his way to the abbot's house, where the Abbot Paslew 
 dwelt in great state, keeping a separate establishment 
 and a numerous train of domestics and officials. 
 
 At this time the Abbey of Whalley was inhabited 
 by monks, who had repossessed their ancient seat, 
 from which they had been driven by the decrees of 
 Henry VIII. Paslew, their leader, was encouraged 
 to this step by the Pilgrimage of Grace, as it was 
 then called, though he apparently took no open part 
 in the rebellion. 
 
 Paslew was in some respects a man of parsimoni- 
 ous habits ; and though his bounty might now be the 
 better excused, yet in the more prosperous days of 
 his dominion he had the character of a selfish and 
 greedy priest, whose charity was less than that of 
 his predecessor, and his personal expenses double. 
 
 The rebel army had their camp at Doncaster, 
 where the Archbishop of York and the Lord d'Arcy 
 openly supported their cause, receiving in great state 
 a herald from the king's army, who came to negotiate 
 with these dangerous malcontents. They believed 
 themselves to be both powerful and important, 
 especially since the Duke of Norfolk, a member of 
 their ancient religion, was appointed to the command 
 of the royal forces along with the Earl of Shrews- 
 bury. The monks made themselves certain that 
 the result would be a complete purification of heresy 
 from the land, or at least that measures would be
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 65 
 
 adopted for the purpose of forcing Henry to restore 
 their rights. So convinced were they of this, that, 
 as we have just seen, some of them took possession 
 of their ancient inheritances without waiting for a 
 fresh grant from the king. 
 
 The rebel army, though now dispersed, proposed 
 to reassemble at a given notice, for which purpose 
 beacons were erected at convenient distances through- 
 out the north. By these means they could again be 
 mustered with the greatest speed and safety. 
 
 Within this interval our narrative begins. Paslew 
 had received some communication to this effect from 
 the leaders of the pilgrimage ; but he seemed wishful 
 to delay, hoping, perhaps, that the timely submission 
 of the king might spare him the dangers that such 
 a treasonable act might bring. 
 
 The stranger was received with some ostentation 
 and ceremony. They were evidently unknown to 
 each other ; but the keen glance of the abbot noted 
 the signal for some secret message. Paslew was 
 habited in the Cistercian gown, and scapulary of 
 white cloth. His dark restless eye, his narrow lips, 
 suggested one fitted for daring enterprise either as 
 a churchman or a warrior. The attendants having 
 departed, the stranger drew an unsealed letter from 
 his bosom. 
 
 " A written message, my lord abbot, from the 
 Abbot of Kirkstall. Tis now for your reverence's 
 private regard, afterwards at your discretion." The 
 abbot hastily glanced over the letter, occasionally 
 darting a rapid and penetrating look at his visitor. 
 
 " He says not aught regarding so goodly a mes- 
 senger," said Paslew carelessly. 
 
 " I should have marvelled if he had," returned the
 
 66 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 other, with a contemptuous smile. " He knew not 
 of so important a personage when that epistle was 
 elaborated from his pen." 
 
 'How?" said the abbot, his features gathering 
 into a portentous scowl. 
 
 ' Nay, I beseech your reverence's grace that you 
 throw off all such disturbed apprehensions ; for in 
 troth a messenger of my bearing were worth a 
 knight's ransom in these evil days, when the monks 
 may not abroad with safety." 
 
 This speech seemed to throw some light on the 
 purpose for which the messenger had been selected. 
 Paslew was preparing for a further inquiry when he 
 was again interrupted. 
 
 " I tell thee, a courier of my condition may go 
 free, though nameless. But to business — Norfolk 
 thinks to gain our time to his advantage; but the 
 work must again be urged forward. Yet lack we 
 thine aid. May we depend on its being faithfully 
 rendered? We must have no lukewarm allies in the 
 rear of our camp." 
 
 The stranger drew from beneath his inner vest 
 a crucifix, with the representation of a chalice and 
 of the five wounds of Christ. 
 
 Paslew kissed the token, and his suspicions were 
 at rest. But still there was a doubt and hesitation 
 in his manner displeasing to the stranger. He would 
 bind himself to nothing; and altogether seemed to 
 display either cowardice or a want of cordiality. 
 His guest, refusing to stay the night, departed soon 
 after their interview was ended. 
 
 The night was fast closing when the strangers 
 left the abbey. Preceded by a guide, they had taken 
 the rough mountain-road, leading from the abbey
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 67 
 
 into the forest of Pendle, the stranger and his ser- 
 vant still walking, or rather climbing, for their 
 journey could only be accomplished on foot. Having 
 proceeded about two miles on this rugged path, 
 they diverged to the left, where they were guided 
 only by the turf -cutters' track and a few heaps of 
 stones, scarcely distinguishable from the common 
 mass, save by an eye accustomed to these landmarks. 
 Carefully were they sought for at times, the blazing 
 tordh carried by their leader being often needed for 
 the search. 
 
 They now descended by a narrow and steep ravine, 
 which brought them to a small brook. This they 
 crossed, and again commenced a sharp and trouble- 
 some ascent toward the mighty Pendle, which rose 
 up before them huge and dark. To this point, it 
 seemed, their path was directed. The guide now 
 trimmed his torch, although the night was unusually 
 clear and vivid. Proceeding onwards they saw a 
 dark speck springing out abruptly from the horizon. 
 Its bulk increased as they approached. A shrill 
 whistle from the guide was quickly answered by a 
 corresponding signal. Presently they were chal- 
 lenged by a sentinel. 
 
 " Vale,'' 1 growled out the rough voice of their 
 conductor. 
 
 " Is it thou, Will?" said the guard. " And what 
 neck art thou fitting for the hangsman?" 
 
 " None half so ripe as thine own, gossip. Here 
 be two gentles that have commission, I guess, to look 
 at the beacons, to see they are in trim and properly 
 watched. 'Tis well the guard is set. Holloa, Nicholas 
 Dewhurst, bring the flagon. I am wheezing like an 
 old wife's bellows. I shall die and be canonised,"
 
 68 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Will left his companions with the sentinel, who 
 speedily conducted them into a rough hut, erected 
 as a temporary shelter for those on the look-out for 
 signals. In this narrow shed a lamp was burning. 
 Two of the abbot's servants, stretched before a 
 smouldering heap of turf, were scarcely roused by 
 Will, as he strode over them to reach the flagon. 
 
 ' Peace," said one of the sleepers, raising himself 
 half-way. " I think we are like to bide here till 
 our bones rot. There's nought but the same dun 
 sky — black, black, and unchanging. I should like 
 to see a stiff blaze from some quarter. Our bundle 
 here will be soon in a glow." 
 
 " Hark! " said the other, " 'tis something creaking 
 in the faggots." 
 
 The sentinel rushed out, but the beacon was un- 
 disturbed. 
 
 ' St. Mary protect us. 'Tis the same noise I 
 heard last night, and about the same hour." 
 
 The stranger here entered the hut. Enveloped 
 in a huge cloak he sat silent and apparently in- 
 attentive ; but the conversation was now abrupt, and 
 broken down into short and interrupted whispers. 
 
 ' I wish old Hal and his wives were here, with 
 all my heart," said one; " we'd have a rare bonfire. 
 How his fat paunch would swell ! But for him and 
 his unlucky women we had been snug in the 
 chimney-corner, snoring our psalmody, or helping 
 old Barn 'by off with the tit-bits in the kitchen." 
 
 ' Hush ! " said his neighbour; ' there be the fag- 
 gots talking again. I think they are bewitched. 
 Dan, look to them." 
 
 ' Nay," said Dan, " they may abide a while for 
 me."
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 69 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered when the build- 
 ing seemed in a blaze. Crash upon crash followed. 
 The inmates, stupefied with terror, were wellnigh 
 suffocated ere their astonishment left them the power 
 to escape. In the full conviction that the foul fiend 
 had taken him at his word, Dan was dragged from 
 the hut, wan, speechless and gasping with affright. 
 
 On gaining the outside, the whole burning mass 
 was before them, one vast pyramid of flame. Flakes 
 of blazing matter were hurled into the sky with short 
 and rapid explosions. The roar of the wind through 
 the glowing furnace was awful and appalling. Huge 
 fragments were borne away with rapidity. They 
 rode on the rolling volumes of smoke like fire-fiends 
 armed with destruction. 
 
 The stranger stood calmly, his back to the flames, 
 looking from the mountain northward, as if on the 
 watch for corresponding signals. Soon a bright 
 star hung on the heights above Sawley. Increasing 
 in splendour, another broke out on the verge of 
 the horizon, marking the site of the camp near 
 Ronald's Moor. 
 
 Turning towards the south-west and looking to 
 the right, beyond the chain of heights that form 1 
 the vale of Todmorden, he beheld a dim spark in 
 the distance from the summit of Hades Hill ; this 
 place and Thieveley Pike forming the connecting- 
 links between Pendle Hill and Buckton Castle. 
 
 The terrified attendants knew too well the results 
 which would follow this astounding mistake. The 
 whole country would be in commotion. Hordes of 
 zealous and frantic idlers and malcontents would 
 repair to the appointed rendezvous, and the danger- 
 ous movement would be attributed to their careless-
 
 70 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ness. Paslew would doubtless subject them to 
 immediate and condign punishment. 
 
 This they feared ; but what answer to give, or 
 what excuse to make was far from being decided 
 upon at once. 
 
 " We shall be hanged without mercy." 
 
 " I know not what you may be," said Will, " but 
 I intend to run for it." 
 
 " Run, then," said Nicholas rather stoutly, and 
 in a tone of more confidence than heretofore. " I'll 
 stay my ground this bout ; and, further, I do propose 
 to commit yon knaves into safe keeping, where they 
 may answer for setting the whole country by the 
 ears. 'Twill save our necks to slip theirs into the 
 noose." 
 
 This happy suggestion the whole of these honest 
 and conscientious servants of the Church were pre- 
 pared to obey. They might with safety accuse the 
 strangers ; indeed, it was more than probable they 
 had hit out the right source of the mischief; so, 
 marching up boldly they were proceeding to lay 
 hands on the foremost of the culprits. At this 
 critical moment he turned suddenly round. Perhaps 
 from a suspicion of their intentions, or from the 
 knavish cast of their countenances, he seemed to be 
 prepared for the event. Will, being the mouth- 
 piece of the party, was the chief speaker. 
 
 " Sir, we arrest you for high treason. You are 
 charged with firing off beacons without our privity 
 or consent, thereby endangering the safety of the lord 
 abbot, and the peaceable governing of this realm." 
 He paused, quaking even at his own eloquence; 
 but the stranger made no reply, till, throwing aside 
 his cloak, he drew out a hagbut or demi-hague as
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 71 
 
 it was sometimes called, being a sort of small harque- 
 buss, with its match ready kindled. 
 
 " Tell the Abbot of Whalley that neither ye nor 
 the whole horde of drones and drivellers about his 
 hive shall take me against my own liberty and 
 consent. Hold back I Your first step is your last; — 
 save to your grave ! I will see the abbot shortly, but 
 not by your grace or assistance." Saying this he 
 bounded down the steep like a roused deer. 
 
 But Ralph, being it seemed of a more heavy 
 and considerate demeanour, paused for a space ere 
 he leapt. 
 
 This pause was fatal to him, for the enemy re- 
 covering from their confusion, seized him and bore 
 him away to the abbot. There could be no great 
 harm in throwing the blame of this unlucky affair on 
 the companion of the escaped incendiary; besides, 
 it would be an effective lesson to him on the danger 
 of keeping bad company. 
 
 The blaze had ceased to be visible when they came 
 to the last descent towards the village. Far and 
 wide the alarm had spread; consternation and in- 
 quiry were on every countenance. 
 
 Outside the gates they found dense crowds wait- 
 ing for the news. The abbot and his brethren were 
 in close council, expecting every moment the arrival 
 of the warders from the beacon. 
 
 They were hurried into the chapter-house, to- 
 gether with their prisoner, who had now taken to 
 the sulks, refusing any reply to the numerous in- 
 quiries made by the servants who followed, eager 
 for the final disclosure. 
 
 The room was lighted by a single lamp. Little 
 was visible, save the grim and ascetic faces of the
 
 72 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 monks who sat nearest to the centre of the light. 
 Their features, in deep masses of alternate light and 
 shadow, looked as if carved out, hard and immovable, 
 from the oak wainscot. 
 
 Paslew was standing when they entered. He 
 shaded his eyes from the light, and thus addressed 
 the foremost of the party by their names : 
 
 " Nicholas Dewhurst and Daniel Haydock, from 
 what quarter was the signal first visible?" 
 
 " My lord," said Dan, " if your highness will 
 pardon •" 
 
 "What?" said Paslew, in a voice that made the 
 culprits quake. ' I pardon nothing. What means 
 this silence?" 
 
 " Please your reverence," said Will, now advanc- 
 ing from the rear, his confidence wonderfully abated, 
 " the first signal was our own, lighted by an in- 
 cendiary to wit, and here we bring him to your high- 
 ness' reverence for judgment. We ordered the rope 
 and the broad beam to be ready by daybreak." 
 
 It were idle to paint the astonishment and dismay 
 which this short narrative produced. Paslew im- 
 mediately saw the dangers in which he was involved. 
 He was by this desperate and unfortunate act at 
 once committed to the measures from which he had 
 hitherto kept aloof, and he must now stand foremost 
 in the cause, or tamely submit to the vengeance 
 which this act of rebellion would hasten. He had 
 hoped that sheltered in this quiet nook he should 
 escape without being made a party in the contest, 
 and rest secure until hotter heads and lighter brains 
 had fought the battles that would leave him in 
 possession of the spoil. If the king's party were 
 triumphant, he fancied that by seeming to take little
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 73 
 
 or no part in the hostilities then abroad his house 
 might be spared in the general wreck that would 
 ensue ; but all these schemes were in a moment 
 destroyed. No time was to be lost. The whole 
 country would instantly be in array, and the beacon- 
 light of Pendle proclaim Paslew as the source of 
 this second rebellion. It would be vain to stay 
 the rising. Some enemy of his house, or some 
 desperate adventurer, was doubtless the author of this 
 mischief. Almost before the dark thought was visible 
 on his brow he cried out : 
 
 "Bring forward the traitor!" 
 
 But Ralph, on the first hearing of this accusation, 
 strode forward even to the table, where sat the awful 
 conclave. He stood calmly erect, surveying his 
 judges with a countenance scarcely moved from its 
 usually hard and stolid expression. 
 
 If it be true," cried he, " as these idlers do aver, 
 I am here to answer. If it be false, they must look 
 to it." 
 
 The abbot frowned at this presumptuous speech. 
 
 "Who art thou?" 
 
 " Marry, an ass ridden by fools." 
 ' Knave, see thou be discreet and respectful in 
 thine answers There be whipping-posts for knaves, 
 and stocks for the correction of fools." 
 
 " He is servant to the stranger yeoman whom 
 your worship entertained a few hours ago, on some 
 private errand," said one of the auditors. 
 
 A sharp guess at the truth raised a slight quiver 
 on the abbot's lip. The conversation of the stranger, 
 the anxiety he displayed, with that of his brother of 
 Kirkstall, seemed to point out the source and cause 
 of his disaster.
 
 74 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 < . 
 
 Now, varlet, answer truly or thou diest," said 
 Paslew, with a significant shake of the finger. " At 
 whose instigation hast thou committed this foul trea- 
 son against our house, and the good prospering of 
 this realm?" 
 
 " The deed was not mine." 
 
 " Believe him not, my lord — we are upon our 
 oath," said the accusers. 
 
 Ralph turning aside met them face to face. He 
 began a short but shrewd examination as follows : 
 
 " You were a-watchingi, I suppose?" said he care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Ay, were we," sharply replied three or four 
 ready tongues. 
 
 " Then how could I fire the beacon without your 
 leave?" 
 
 A short pause evinced their dislike to the ques- 
 tion ; but Will, more ready than discreet, soon took 
 courage to meet the inquiry thus: 
 
 " My lord, we had just taken them into the hut, 
 thinking to show them a courtesy; but that knave's 
 throat holds more liquor than his mother's kneading 
 trough, or " 
 
 " If in the hut, how could I set the beacon in 
 the low?" 
 
 " But thou hadst a companion," hastily shouted 
 Nicholas. 
 
 " And how came it to pass that ye be taking 
 or guiding thither any person, and more particu- 
 larly wayfarers, whom we know not? How comes 
 it, I say, that ye suffer this without my permission?' 
 said the abbot sternly. 
 
 "Will was their guide; and we cared not to 
 refuse your reverence's messenger."
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 75 
 
 " My messenger! " returned Paslew, with a glance 
 that almost bent them to the ground. 
 
 ' Please, your highness," said Will, falling on his 
 knees, ' the stranger was a-visiting of the beacons, 
 so said he, to know if they were carefully watched. 
 He came to me as with authority from your rever- 
 ence, and I mounted them up to the guard-house 
 unwillingly enough. 'Tis a sore pull for a pair of 
 shanks like mine." 
 
 The abbot now saw plainly how his men had 
 betrayed him, and to reward their negligence ordered 
 them to the stocks. Their lamentations were loud 
 and unavailing, especially when they found that 
 greatly to their annoyance Ralph was simply dis- 
 missed for a while to solitary confinement. 
 
 A great marvel and gossip, as may be readily 
 supposed, now arose throughout the whole country. 
 One and all proclaimed that the signal was from 
 the Abbot of Whalley, who desired the whole line 
 of beacons to be kindled. A messenger, however, 
 was soon sent to the camp, from Paslew, to explain 
 the affair, and demand help for the discovery and 
 punishment of the rebels. But d'Arcy and Aske 
 were well pleased to see the crafty and selfish Paslew 
 committed to their cause. These ambitious men 
 were glad to behold their army once more threatening 
 the royalist position. But the Duke of Norfolk and 
 the Earl of Shrewsbury were amazed at the un- 
 expected rising. Their plans were at once ended, 
 and they secretly resolved that this meddling abbot 
 should rue his mischief. 
 
 Early on the following morning Ralph was aroused 
 from a deep sleep, by a figure that shook him as 
 he lay, in a somewhat unceremonious fashion. The
 
 76 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 intruder was wrapped in a thick cloak or tunic, 
 and stood gruffly erect by the straw couch, whereon 
 the prisoner lay. 
 
 "I marvel thou sleepest so soundly! Thou art 
 the first knave, I trow, that has done so within these 
 walls." 
 
 " And what should ail the well-earned slumbers of 
 Ralph Newcome? His sleep may be as sound as 
 some of those, mayhap, that have softer beds and 
 gayer clothing." 
 
 ' Thou art a plain-spoken varlet, and I would 
 but ask thy master's name and condition. Answer 
 me straight; no shuffling shall serve thee." 
 
 ' And who art thou, friend, that hast such a 
 greedy appetite for men's names thou canst not 
 rest a-bed for the craving of thy stomach? " 
 
 " I am the abbot, and thou a prisoner in this 
 good house. Fearful odds, methinks, for the strife." 
 
 " Now, hark thee, most reverend abbot, my name 
 thou knowest at a peradventure ; but for the name of 
 my master, as thou callest him, seeing it be a notable 
 secret, thou mightest as well go ask his goshawk 
 yonder, who, I guess, is a prisoner as well as my- 
 self." 
 
 " I'll have the truth wrung from thy tongue. 
 Thumbscrews and iron mittens will not be denied 
 so easily." 
 
 "Humph!' said Ralph; "these be rare things 
 for cracking the shell ; but for all that I wot they'll 
 not get at the kernel." 
 
 ' What ! deftest thou my power? — and in my 
 custody too?" 
 
 The abbot grew pale with anger, but presently find 
 ing the show of power to be unwise, he tried offers
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 77 
 
 of reward. In vain; neither bribe nor entreaty would 
 avail. He then left his prisoner, threatening to get by 
 force what bribery and entreaty could not win. He 
 had that morning despatched a messenger to the 
 rebel chiefs at Doncaster with an explanation of the 
 accident, and an assurance of his good wishes to 
 the cause ; but still he delayed to go in person, or 
 to send his quota of levies. 
 
 True, however, to his threats, if not to his promises, 
 towards the close of the day he again visited the 
 dungeon. He was accompanied by two grim atten- 
 dants, whom he ordered to wait outside until their 
 services should be required. Ralph was striding' 
 lustily, and with evident impatience, over the damp 
 floor; yet he scarcely seemed to notice the entrance 
 of the abbot. 
 
 " How now! Hast discovered aught touching the 
 name thou hadst forgotten this morning?" 
 
 ' Yes, yes," said Ralph, still holding on his pace 
 as before. 
 
 'And may we graciously share in the result?" 
 said the abbot. 
 
 'Tis that I could well dispose of some light 
 scraps from your reverence's buttery." 
 
 "Thou hast not dined?" 
 
 " Not at thy cost." 
 
 " Perchance an empty stomach may be the more 
 apt to yield. A full belly makes a stout heart." 
 
 " I know not. But hasten, I beseech thee. Thy 
 questions over, we may make merry together. Noth- 
 ing less than a full flagon and a prime haunch will 
 suffice." 
 
 Ralph rubbed his hands at the suggestion of these 
 dainties.
 
 78 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ' Wilt thou now disclose the name of thy 
 master?" 
 
 " No," said Ralph; "and now for the dinner." 
 
 " Prythee, in what haste?" returned Paslew, with 
 a cruel laugh. " There be something to season thy 
 haunch and whet thine appetite." He stamped with 
 his foot, and the two attendants entered, bearing 
 instruments of uncouth' and horrid appearance. 
 
 " Thou mayest spare my bones and thy gim- 
 cracks. With all thy screwing thou canst not yet 
 squeeze raindrops from the rock." 
 
 " I cry thee favour. Thou hast dared the stroke, 
 but thou shalt yield or break. Seize him ! ' 
 
 'Stand back, caitiffs!" said Ralph, with a look 
 of deep and unutterable scorn. " But to thee — words 
 fail to express my contempt, my derision, my de- 
 fiance of thy puny power I Read, and skulk back 
 to thy cell! " 
 
 He drew from his doublet a small roll of parch- 
 ment, which Paslew, with unfeigned astonishment 
 and vexation, recognised as a safe warranty from 
 the Archbishop of York, wherein the bearer, under 
 whatever manner or distinction he might choose to 
 adopt, was charged with a secret mission from the 
 leaders of the " Pilgrimage," touching the success 
 and the well-being of the Catholic faith, and the 
 prosperity of the Holy Church. All abbots, priests, 
 and others, being true sons of the Church, were called 
 on to aid and comfort him in the due exercise of 
 his mission, to furnish him with a safe passage, 
 and to obey his bidding without let or question. 
 
 "Herein fail not at your peril!' said Ralph, 
 eyeing the abbot with a glance of cool and deliberate 
 scorn.
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 79 
 
 " Why was not this protection from his grace 
 given to me before?" inquired Paslew beseech- 
 ingly. 
 
 ' That thy deceit and double-dealing might be 
 the more manifest. Yesternight thou didst refuse 
 thine aid until the beacon of insurrection should be 
 kindled. When kindled, and upon thine own ground, 
 too, still thou holdest back ! But think not to escape ! 
 Think not to watch in safety while others work. 
 Whoever wins in this perilous game, thou wilt lose. 
 Choose thee one party and thou hast yet one chance 
 of safety. But double-dealers such as thou do 
 ever tumble into the trap baited by their own 
 cunning." 
 
 " Will His Grace of York expect my presence 
 at the camp?" 
 
 ' It is needful thou make thy peace either with 
 him or with the king," said Ralph; ' yet I am bold 
 to tell thee that with Harry thine hope of reconcilia- 
 tion is past. The news, ere this, hath reached Nor- 
 folk's ear, and the beacon-light of Pendle, the first 
 blaze and the signal of the insurrection, denounces 
 the Abbot of Whalley as a ringleader, and as having 
 first kindled the torch of rebellion. 
 
 " Thine only hope is with his grace. Go with 
 me, and thou mayest yet dwell in safety, and thine 
 house be established." 
 
 Paslew saw with dismay the dark gulf which 
 yawned on either hand, and the net so craftily pre- 
 pared to entangle him. His only hope of safety 
 lay in the plan pointed out by the stranger, who 
 engaged to conduct him to the camp. 
 
 Passing over the difficulties of the journey, the 
 accidents by the way, the slips and damages of
 
 80 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 sumpter-horses, and their often trackless march over 
 the hills, let us behold Paslew, after some narrow- 
 escapes from the Royalist forces, taking up his quar- 
 ters at an obscure lodging hard by the town of 
 Doncaster, and nigh to the cantonments of the rebel 
 chiefs, whose forces occupied a conspicuous posi- 
 tion on the left bank of the River Don. 
 
 The left wing of the Royalist troops was flanked 
 by a deep morass, called Potterie Car; and their 
 right protected by the walls of the town. 
 
 The morning that followed Paslew's arrival was 
 the time appointed for a general attack by the 
 rebels, for d'Arcy and his associates intended to 
 cross the river by daybreak with the utmost secrecy, 
 hoping to take the Royalist forces by surprise. 
 
 Paslew arrived alone, just as the consultation of 
 the chiefs was breaking up. His companion, Ralph, 
 had left him some hours before, and galloped on at 
 full speed, first giving directions as to the course 
 he should take and the measures he was to adopt on 
 his arrival. Conducted in due form to the arch- 
 bishop's presence, Paslew found his grace at supper. 
 The repast was sumptuous, and served in great state. 
 This high dignitary seldom stirred but with his 
 kitchen furniture and service for the table, which 
 last was of massive silver, beautifully wrought and 
 embellished. His servants were apparelled in all 
 the pomp and insignia of office; but he affected 
 great plainness and simplicity, both of dress and 
 demeanour. At his right hand sat a stout, muscular 
 figure, whom Paslew immediately recognised with 
 surprise to be his prisoner, Ralph Newcome, now 
 clad in a plain suit of velvet, and looking like a 
 country gentleman of some rank and importance.
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 81 
 
 On the left of the archbishop sat his nameless visitor 
 of the abbey. Below them sat several chiefs of 
 the confederacy, apparently of inferior rank. 
 
 " Abbot Paslew," said his grace, ' thou art a 
 tardy, and it may be undutiful, son. Thine homage 
 to the Church lias not been either freely or faith- 
 fully rendered; yet does she now welcome thee to 
 her embrace, with the promise of a free and un- 
 conditional forgiveness." 
 
 His grace here filled a cup of spiced sack, invit- 
 ing Paslew to partake of their humble entertainment. 
 Bewildered and intimidated, he yet obeyed with all 
 due reverence and courtesy. 
 
 " Confusion to the heretic king! " cried he on the 
 left of the archbishop, filling his glass, and at the 
 same time taking special note that the guests should 
 repeat this bold and startling treason. 
 
 The guests were fully occupied to a late hour 
 discussing the plan of attack, the occupation of the 
 town, and other arrangements, after which the com- 
 pany departed. 
 
 Paslew, on retiring to his chamber, though much 
 fatigued, found himself unable to sleep. 
 
 He arose, and cast an anxious glance through 
 the low casement. The moon was riding on the 
 top of a huge mountain of clouds towards the north- 
 west. As he gazed they came rapidly across the 
 heavens, like the wings of some terrible demon un- 
 folding before his eyes. Suddenly the door of his 
 chamber flew open. He started forward to meet 
 the intruder; but there was no footstep — no sound 
 save that of the hurrying gusts that fore-ran the 
 approaching tempest. Soon like a mighty deluge 
 it burst in its full vigour, as though it would over-
 
 82 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 whelm creation once more in immediate ruin. The 
 roll of the river, now swollen to a huge and foaming 
 torrent, widely spreading beyond its level banks and 
 threatening devastation on every side, answered 
 swiftly to the tempest's voice. Paslew quaked. 
 Gloomy forebodings crept upon him. He beheld in 
 this strange visitation another and a manifest inter- 
 position of Heaven, fighting against the cause he 
 had unhappily espoused. Rest was out of the ques- 
 tion, his whole thoughts being occupied in the con- 
 trivance of measures for his own safety. 
 
 In the morning consternation had seized the whole 
 camp. They beheld the muddy and turbulent waters 
 before them, fighting visibly and irresistibly against 
 them, in front of their enemies. So intimidated were 
 the troops, and so convinced that their cause was 
 now hopeless, that not all the persuasions and 
 threatenings of their leaders, nor the archbishop's 
 promises of an eternal reward, could prevent the 
 breaking-up of this vast multitude, and the hasty 
 dispersion of the rebel host. 
 
 Ere morning Paslew was gone. He liked not the 
 dust from a falling house. Weary and alone he 
 came back to his dwelling on the tenth day after 
 his departure. 
 
 From this time danger and misfortune crowded 
 fast upon that devoted house, and Paslew, by many 
 a vain contrivance, sought to avert the king's dis- 
 pleasure and his own doom. We find from existing 
 records that a pension of ten marks per annum was 
 granted to Thomas Cromwell, the king's secretary 
 and principal visitor — whether in the way of bribe or 
 fee is not certain. 
 
 It shows, however, the humiliating circumstances
 
 THE DORMITORY, WHALLEY ABBEY
 
 THE ABBOT OF WHALLEY 83 
 
 to which the monks were now reduced. They were 
 indeed fallen from that high estate when kings were 
 their tributaries and empires too narrow for the wide 
 grasp of their ambition. The following is a copy 
 of Thomas Cromwell's indulgence, taken from the 
 Townley MSS.: 
 
 " To all estates due honour and reverence, and 
 to all other commendacioun in our Lord everlastyn. 
 Know ye that we, John, abbot of ye monasterie of 
 our Blessed Lady of Whalley in Com. Lane, by ye 
 assente and consente of ye convente, have freely 
 granted unto ye right honourable Mr. Tho. Crom- 
 well, Secretarie, general visitor and principal official 
 to our most sovereign Lord Kyng Hen. VIII., an 
 annual rent or fee of VI : xIII : iv : yerely to be paide 
 at ye nativity of St. John Baptist unto ye saide 
 Maister Thomas Cromwell. Wee, ye saide abbot 
 and convent have put to ye same our handes and 
 common seale. Yeven at Whatlley 1st Jan. 28 
 Hen. VIII." 
 
 But every act of submission, every stratagem and 
 advice, had failed to ward off the blow. Within ten 
 weeks of the date of this document there was neither 
 abbot nor abbey of Whalley. 
 
 Shrewsbury, by the king's orders, sent a herald 
 with a troop of horse, who took Paslew, Eastgate, 
 Haydock, and some others of the monks prisoners., 
 They were arraigned at Lancaster, and convicted of 
 high treason. On the 12th March, 1537, Paslew 
 was conveyed back to Whalley for execution, where 
 in a field called the Holehouses, immediately 
 facing the house of his birth, a gallows was 
 erected, on which he and Eastgate suffered punish- 
 ment. Haydock was carried to Padiham, and died
 
 84 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 there the same ignominious death on the day fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 The monks, driven from their asylum, escaped 
 into France, with the exception of a few, who lin- 
 gered near the scenes of their former enjoyments, 
 hovering like departed hopes round the ruin to which 
 they clung.
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 
 
 On the flat, bare, sandy coast near Southport might 
 have been seen a few years ago some acres of scanty 
 pasture, on which stood a ruined cottage and other 
 farmyard buildings, once the abode of George 
 Grimes, an honest fisherman- farmer, who earned a 
 comfortable living by alternately ploughing his land 
 and going to sea. He was a hale, hard-featured and 
 obstinate man of nearly sixty, and had for his wife 
 a round brown-eyed dame, whose good-humoured 
 mouth puckered up at the corners into an expression 
 of kindness and mirth. She wore a cap, white as the 
 whitest goose of the flock that wandered every morn- 
 ing from her barn door to the common, and a striped 
 apron, the blue lines of which would have vied 
 with the best Wigan check for breath and distinct- 
 ness. Their only daughter, a brown rosy girl of 
 good stature, called Katherine or Kattern, whose 
 plain linsey-woolsey dress knew neither flounce nor 
 farthingale, was well known at church and also at 
 Ormskirk Market, where she attended to dispose of 
 her produce. 
 
 Avarice was the besetting sin of her father ; he 
 was always fearful of becoming poor, or of " not 
 paying his way," as he called it. Often he would 
 spend the greater part of the morning tide in watch- 
 ing the boiling waves, hoping to find there something 
 that had been in his dream the night before. 
 
 85
 
 86 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Southport then existed not, at least in name; all 
 was bleak and bare and uninhabited. The loud 
 lunge of the sea was interrupted only by the cry of 
 the fishermen and the whistle of the cockier, plough- 
 ing his scanty trade among the shoals and sandbanks 
 of that coast. 
 
 There was but one more inmate of the household, 
 a tall, thick-browed, high-cheeked servant, who had 
 been engaged at the farm barely twelve weeks before 
 our story begins. Dumb from birth and nicknamed 
 ' Dummy," he perfectly understood what was spoken, 
 although he was obliged to make known his wishes 
 by signs or writing, and often made these more 
 clear by rude sketches in chalk upon the floor or 
 table. He seemed at first a great simpleton at 
 farming or fishing, but he was quick to learn, and 
 served George Grimes well and faithfully. His only 
 companion was Katherine; she taught him how to 
 knit — how to make nets — and showed him how to 
 find the best peats, and where the rabbits burrowed, 
 and the lapwings made their nests. 
 
 One stormy morning, just before high tide, Grimes 
 and his servant trudged towards the beach, mean- 
 ing to go out in the boat and get a few fish. Toil- 
 ing through the sand-drifts they came to an opening 
 between the hills, which looked down upon the beach, 
 where the sea was breaking in great waves. They 
 had just turned the corner of the hill, when looking 
 round, the fisherman cried in a tone of terror and 
 surprise : 
 
 ' Here now, Dick ! Why ! The boat has gone ! 
 What prank next, thou careless unthrift? Ill-luck 
 follows in thy wake; she has slipped anchor, and 
 the ' Little Kitty ' has gone to the Manx herring-
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 87 
 
 boats; I am ruined, thou idiot — thou chub — 
 thou " 
 
 He stopped as Dick, half closing his eyes, pointed 
 to something dark, like a small boat in the offing. 
 
 "What's yon thee'rt pointing at? A porpoise back, 
 I warrant. Ay, shake thy head, fool, 'twill not 
 bring my bonny ' Kitty ' back." 
 
 As he spoke, however, the black speck became 
 more distinct, and George saw a white stern heaving 
 up and down, and presently, as he gazed, in wonder 
 and suspense, he saw a sail unfurl, and the bark — his 
 own little trim vessel — come prancing on the white 
 billows towards the shore. 
 
 Soon he saw sitting therein, perfectly at his ease, 
 a figure clad in a garment of grey frieze, with a 
 dark hairy cap on his head. He managed the boat 
 with seamanlike skill, until he ran right upon the 
 sands, where the boat grounded, and he sprang out 
 upon the beach. 
 
 The astonishment of Grimes can be imagined 
 when, without seeming to notice him, away went 
 the stranger with neither thanks nor apology. With 
 quick strides Grimes overtook him, and crossing 
 before him, exclaimed : 
 
 " How now, friend! I be bold to ask what thou 
 beist. I am mightily beholden to thee for this favour. ' ' 
 
 " Friend," said the other, " I am beholden to thee 
 for thy boat, and if thou art seeking payment for its 
 hire I am willing to return its value. Will this 
 content thee?" 
 
 Here George saw twinkling in the stranger's hand 
 a bit of gold, which softened him at once ; but he 
 was still curious about the matter, and stammered 
 out some inquiry, to which he received this reply:
 
 88 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ' Seek not to know, it is a thing fraught with 
 ill-luck ; but the wave hath swallowed it, and I am 
 again free." Saying this he passed on, leaving 
 the astonished fisherman gazing with open mouth 
 until the sand hills shut him from their sight. 
 Dummy, who had seemed to keep a wary eye upon 
 the stranger, soon had the little bark afloat, and 
 they went to work, when, after a haul or two, up 
 came something with the net, and old Grimes drew 
 forth a fair and weighty casket, ornamented in the 
 arabesque fashion, inlaid with great care and skill. 
 He grasped the prize — he weighed it. This was at 
 last the treasure he had often dreamed about, and the 
 old man was almost frantic with joy. He hugged 
 this unexpected piece of good fortune, and, putting 
 the vessel about, made all sail for land. 
 
 Once ashore, Grimes was too much engaged with 
 his prize to notice that Dummy took another road to 
 the farm. He came to his dwelling in a pelting 
 storm, and deposited the casket, which was locked, 
 in the oaken chest at his bedside, where he proposed 
 to break it open later on. The storm was now rapidly 
 gaining strength; the wind blew a hurricane, and 
 the thunder rolled on louder and louder, while the 
 rain came down in torrents. 
 
 " Bless me! I had forgotten you were by yourself, 
 father," said Katherine. " Dummy will be almost 
 drowned if he has not taken shelter." 
 
 " I know not," muttered Grimes; " he left me on 
 the shore. He might have been here long since." 
 
 The rain and the wind abated for a brief space, 
 when old Isobel, bending her ear towards the 
 chamber door, where Grimes had left the casket, 
 cried :
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 89 
 
 'Mercy! What's that, George? Something like 
 an it were whispering there." 
 
 The fisherman bent his ear to the door, and 
 thought he heard a whisper, which overwhelmed him 
 with terror. 
 
 But Katherine fearlessly entered. She looked 
 cautiously about, but all was still, and she returned. 
 Ere she closed the door she heard a soft whisper, as 
 though behind her. Naturally courageous, she went 
 back, but all was quiet as before, nor could she find 
 that any person had been hidden in the room. She 
 opened the chest where Grimes had stowed his 
 treasure, and seeing the casket, she took it up, run- 
 ning hastily to the kitchen. 
 
 ' Why, father, what a pretty fairling you have 
 brought me. I'se warrant, now, you would not have 
 told me on't till after the wakes if I had not seen it." 
 
 " Take it back, wench, back into the closet again," 
 said the old man. " It was not for thee, hussy, — a 
 prize I fished up with the nets to-day." 
 
 "From the sea! Oh me! it is unlucky; it has 
 been dragged from some wreck. Cast it again to 
 the greedy waters, I pray thee," said the girl. 
 
 The fisherman was silent. He looked thoughtful 
 and disturbed, while Katherine went back to put 
 the treasure in its hiding-place. 
 
 ' I wondered what the whispering could be," 
 thought the maiden as she opened the oak chest. 
 Ere the lid was pulled down she cast one look in- 
 side, and was sure she saw a slight movement be- 
 neath the casket ; she flung down the lid in great 
 terror, sprang out of the room, and sat down, silent 
 and alarmed. Again the mysterious whispers were 
 heard in the pauses of the blast.
 
 go LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Save us," said the old woman, " I hear it again ! ' 
 
 Bounce flew open the door of the bedchamber, and 
 in stalked Dummy, as though he had chosen to come 
 in through the window of the sleeping-room rather 
 than through the house door. 
 
 " Plague take thee, where hast thou been?" said 
 the old woman, feeling less alarmed. Yet this was 
 no real explanation of the whispers, as Dummy was 
 known to be unable to utter a sound. 
 
 "Where hast thou been, Dick?" asked Grimes 
 seriously. " How long hast thou been yonder in the 
 chamber, I mean?" 
 
 Dick here fell into one of his fits of thoughtful- 
 ness, from which nothing could rouse him. As the 
 old man turned from the window he saw a blaze of 
 light flashing suddenly upon the wall, the yard was 
 filled with smoke. Rushing forth, he and his dame 
 found the barn thatch on fire, kindled probably by 
 the lightning. The rain prevented it from spread- 
 ing far, and Grimes, mounting on the roof, soon put 
 out the fire before much damage had been done ; but 
 when they returned into the house Katherine was 
 nowhere to be found, and Dummy too was absent. 
 Anxious and wondering they waited, hoping for their 
 return to dinner, but their meal was lonely and 
 cheerless. Evening came, but their child did not 
 return. They went out to make inquiries, but could 
 hear nothing to aid them in the search. Katherine 
 had never strayed from home so late, and the parents 
 were nigh distracted. It seemed certain that their 
 daughter and the servant had gone away together, 
 and after a fruitless search they were obliged to 
 return. 
 
 On the third day after this event Grimes and his
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 91 
 
 dame were sitting by the turf embers in silence, 
 broken only by whiffs from the old man's pipe. 
 After a longer pull than usual he suddenly exclaimed : 
 ' Three days, Isobel, and no tidings of the child. 
 Who will comb down my grey hairs now, or read for 
 us in the book of nights? We must linger on with- 
 out help to our grave, none will care to keep us 
 company." 
 
 ' Woe is me! " cried the dame, and she wept sore. 
 ' My child, if I but knew what was come of her, I 
 think in my heart I would be thankful ; but what 
 can have happened to her unless she be with Dick, 
 indeed? And yet I think the lad was honest, though 
 odd-tempered at times. By next market, surely, we 
 shall have tidings frae some end. But I trow it is 
 that fearsome burden ye brought with you, George, 
 frae the sea, that has been the cause of a' this 
 trouble." 
 
 Grimes started up. In his great distress the casket 
 had been forgotten. He threw the ashes from his 
 pipe, and without saying a word went into the bed- 
 chamber. Lifting up the chest-lid, he saw it safe 
 and undisturbed, and, drawing it forth, he vowed 
 he would cast it into the sea again without further 
 ado on the morrow. It felt much lighter than be- 
 fore, but not another night should it pass under his 
 roof; so he threw it beside a turf-heap in the yard, 
 feeling sure it was this unlucky spoil of the wreck 
 that had brought such woe to his happy household. 
 
 Morning came, and Grimes, for the first time since 
 his loss, took the boat and went alone with the 
 casket on the sea. He stood out to a good distance, 
 intending to have depth and sea room enough to 
 drown his burden.
 
 92 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Presently he looked at it, and thought how very 
 sad to part with so beautiful a treasure. He looked 
 at it again, and noticed for the first time that the 
 lid was unlocked. He might as well peep before it 
 should be hidden for ever beneath the waves. He 
 lifted up the rim cautiously, and . . . and it was empty. 
 
 "I am a fool," thought he, "a downright fool; 
 an empty box can have nothing to do with . . ." 
 
 As he spoke he let go the helm for a moment, in 
 order to look more closely at the casket, and as he 
 did so a hidden squall nearly upset the boat ; fortu- 
 nately she righted, but not before nearly everything 
 in her was tossed out, including the unlucky casket. 
 
 The tide was still coming in, and Grimes floated 
 to land, and soon hauled his boat ashore. A few 
 weeks passed, and Grimes removed to another farm ; 
 but he grew more and more restless, and, hearing no 
 tidings from his daughter, determined at last to 
 go away and seek for some news of her. 
 
 It was a cold blustery morning when the old man 
 set out on his errand. He was clad in a coarse blue 
 frieze coat, with large white buttons. His head was 
 sheltered by an oilskin cap, tied down with a blue 
 and white check handkerchief, and he held before 
 him, at arm's length, a long stick, on which he 
 leaned heavily. He had grown a dozen years older, 
 at least, and when he came to Churchtown, having 
 taken the bypath through the hills, he was fain to 
 rest a while at the inn door. Before it stood several 
 carts, on their way towards Preston, whither they 
 were bound, to dispose of their produce on the 
 morrow. Grimes thought he might as well make 
 some inquiries there, as Katherine had at times 
 visited the town to make purchases. He would
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 93 
 
 have company, too, if he went with the carts, and a 
 lift now and then if he were tired; so, throwing 
 down his bundle, he entered the house, saying he 
 wished they should join company. 
 
 1 To Preston, lads," said a jolly carter, holding a 
 pewter pot that seemed as if glued to his hard fist ; 
 "rare doing there, old one. What! thee wants to 
 look at the fun, I reckon. Why, the rebels ha' been 
 packed off to London long since; but we han' some 
 of them back again, that is, thou sees, their heads 
 were sent back in pickle to the Town Hall." 
 
 News of the disturbances had not reached this 
 part of the country, so that the rebellion of 1755 
 might as well have happened in Japan for anything 
 that old Grimes knew of the matter. 
 
 " Rebels," said he; "I have heard something of 
 this business, though I know nothing, and care less 
 about them cannibals." 
 
 " Then what for be'st thee in such a hurry to 
 Preston?" 
 
 " I had a daughter, but she has left me, the staff 
 and comfort of my old age, when I stood most in 
 
 need of the prop " Here the old man drew his 
 
 hat over his brows, partly turning aside. 
 
 " Cheer up, friend," said another, " thy daughter 
 maybe is gone with Prince Charlie, when he piped 
 through Preston — ' Hie thee Charlie Hame again.' " 
 
 The old man heard this sally with great sorrow 
 and fear, for, though it was only said in jest, the 
 idea was always in his head that his daughter's ab- 
 sence would be found to have something to do with 
 these events. He said nothing, however, and they 
 continued their journey together — riding, walking, 
 and gossiping — during which time he learned much
 
 94 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 about the names of the leaders, and those at- 
 tainted and condemned in this hasty rebellion got 
 up on behalf of the Stewarts. A number of officers 
 of the Manchester Regiment, commanded by Colonel 
 Townley, had been taken to London, and tried for 
 high treason. Some were pardoned, some executed, 
 while others escaped, amongst whom was the Earl 
 of Derwentwater, who, they said, had been taken 
 secretly to Scotland in a ship. 
 
 About the close of the day the towers of proud 
 Preston, or Prieststown, were seen rising above the 
 broad sweep of the river below Penworthen Bridge. 
 
 Grimes trudged wearily on in the direction he had 
 been given by his guides in search of lodgings. 
 His road lay up Fishergate, and on his way, near 
 the Town Hall, he was stopped by a large crowd. 
 The soldiers were just conveying a prisoner from 
 the hall of justice to head-quarters, at the Bull Inn, 
 under a strong guard. 
 
 Grimes, full of curiosity, and thinking it might be 
 one of the rebels, whom he still secretly blamed for 
 the disappearance of his daughter, thrust himself 
 into the crowd, to whom he caused some merriment 
 by his countrified dress. 
 
 Guarded by soldiers, a bevy of constables before 
 and behind, came a tall, haggard figure, dressed in a 
 ragged suit, his black hair covered by a coarse cap or 
 bonnet, such as the mechanics then wore at their 
 work. 
 
 The old man looked hard at the prisoner, and 
 then pressed to the front of the crowd, near enough 
 to receive a lusty blow from one of the constables ; 
 but he had already recognised with joy the face of 
 his former dumb servant at the farm.
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 95 
 
 Grimes, caring not a whit for the blow, stepped 
 up to the leader of the party, thinking there must be 
 some mistake in the prisoner they had seized, and 
 anxious to speak with him. 
 
 'Friend, I know thy prisoner well," he said; 
 ' he is my servant, and thou art wrong to capture 
 him without my knowledge." 
 
 " And who art thou?" asked another of the officers 
 of justice, eyeing Grimes and his strange clothes 
 from head to foot. " I do bethink me thou art one 
 of them." 
 
 " Like enough," said the other, taking Grimes by 
 the collar, who was for the moment too much aston- 
 ished to be able to give such an account of himself 
 as would satisfy the officers and regain his liberty. 
 
 The prisoner looked at him, but did not show the 
 least sign of recognition. 
 
 Being much amazed at this conduct, the old man 
 could not help exclaiming: 
 
 " Varlet ! my daughter, thou— — " But the prisoner 
 was out of sight and hearing, and the crowd were 
 driven from the gateway. 
 
 In vain he tried to persuade such as would listen 
 to him of the real state of the case, and the great 
 injustice of the man's arrest ; but they listened to 
 him with impatience and suspicion. They thought 
 him either crazed or guilty as one of the rebel par- 
 tizans. 
 
 " I tell thee what, old crony, if thou dost not 
 change thy quarters we will lay thee by the heels 
 
 in the cage presently. Budge! move quick, or " 
 
 The speaker made a movement which showed Grimes 
 that he had better withdraw out of harm's way. So 
 hungry, weary and dispirited, he inquired his way
 
 96 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 to an obscure lodging in one of the wynds near the 
 market. 
 
 It was a low, dismal-looking tavern, where two 
 or three unwashed artificers were sitting, drinking 
 beer and devouring the news. 
 
 " I want a bed for the night," said Grimes to 
 the hostess, who was bustling in and out. 
 
 "We have none to spare," she curtly replied — " for 
 such guests as thee," she might have added — but the 
 stranger from the corner opposite Grimes called out : 
 
 " He shall have mine; I can lie on the squab." 
 
 The voice of the speaker was soft and musical. 
 
 "You're very kind, sir," said the hostess; "but 
 this thrifty customer may find other places in the 
 town — unless, indeed, he chooses to pay handsomely 
 for the lodging." 
 
 " And then maybe his silver would find a bed 
 to lie in?." 
 
 " I could lend him mine," said the landlady. 
 
 " Then here's a crown," said the other, " and let 
 the old man be both fed and bedded. I have money 
 enough ; and his purse, I think, is not overstocked, 
 if we may guess by the lining of his wallet." 
 
 The dame, growing courteous in an instant, 
 promised as good a bed as King George himself 
 slept in that blessed night. The astonished fisher- 
 man could hardly credit his senses, but he thanked 
 his stars and would not refuse the gift, though from 
 the hand of a stranger. 
 
 Grimes' benefactor soon retired to rest, and Grimes 
 quickly followed his example. He found himself in 
 a bare, whitewashed bedroom, containing a broken 
 chair, two-thirds of a table, and a bed, without tester, 
 covered with a thick blue quilt. Here he threw
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 97 
 
 himself down, but it was long before he could sleep. 
 The strange event he had witnessed, and the excite- 
 ment he had undergone, and the rude brawls beneath 
 his window, kept him awake till past midnight. 
 Gradually the sounds became confused and dim, and 
 at last ceased. Sleep came and brought him dreams, 
 and carried him far from the surroundings in which 
 he had passed the day. His room, now his own 
 chamber, and not the dreary lodging which he owed 
 to the charity of a stranger, seemed to be lit up, 
 and Katherine herself sprang towards him, smiling 
 as she was wont and saying " Good night." 
 
 " God bless thee, my child I " cried Grimes, as he 
 threw his arms about her. Starting up, awake at 
 the sound of his own voice, he found that he had 
 not grasped a shadow. 
 
 " Father, it is I," said a soft whisper. It was 
 the voice of his daughter. 
 
 "Hush!" she said, for Grimes was raising his 
 voice in wondering delight, " be silent, for your life 
 and mine. You shall know all, but not now. Fear 
 not for me, I am safe ; but I will not leave him, 
 my companion — yonder unhappy captive. Help me, 
 and Fll contrive his rescue." 
 
 She fell upon his neck, and the old man, perplexed 
 as he was, forgot for the moment all his cares in his 
 pleasure at finding his daughter. He kissed her 
 tenderly. 
 
 " To-morrow night," said the maiden, " bring 
 your boat, with four stout rowers, to the quay at 
 Preston Marsh. Let me see — ay, the moon is near 
 two days old, and the tide will serve from nine till 
 midnight. You know the channel well. Wait there 
 till I come." 
 
 H
 
 98 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 "Kattern, thou shalt go with me; I'll not leave 
 thee now." 
 
 ' Nay," said the faithful girl, " I must not — I will 
 not. There's a life depending on what I do. Father," 
 continued she, throwing her arms round the old man's 
 neck, who now sobbed aloud, " hear me. No power 
 shall force me now to leave him in misery and mis- 
 fortune. I would move the very stones for his 
 rescue, and cannot I move thee?" 
 
 " Well, Kattern, I am a silly and weak old body, 
 and thou — but thou art disguised! Where didst 
 thou get that coat? — and — I declare, trousers! For 
 shame, girl ! " 
 
 1 You shall know all, father, when I return, when 
 we have delivered him, but not before." 
 
 The old man was too much overjoyed not to 
 promise all she asked. 
 
 " My life depends on it, father. So good night." 
 
 " Stay, stay, child, a moment." 
 
 But with a light step she quickly moved from 
 him, and gently shut the door, leaving Grimes to lie 
 sleepless on his pallet, impatiently awaiting day- 
 break. 
 
 At the first peep of dawn, when the lark was but 
 just fluttering from the dewy grass, the singular 
 figure of Grimes was again seen plodding towards 
 the coast. 
 
 " Since that plaguey box came into my fingers I 
 have had neither rest nor luck. I'll ne'er meddle 
 with stray goods again while I live." 
 
 Thus resolved, and thinking of his bonny Kattern, 
 he pressed forward on his long and troublesome 
 journey.
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 99 
 
 The sun lighted early on the tavern and gables 
 of " Proud Preston." Longridge Fell threw off its 
 wreath of mist, but along the river there hung a 
 winding vapour, which promised one of the pure 
 bright days which are so rare in our climate. The 
 Mayor was but just awakened; but Mrs. Mayor had 
 long been busily engaged, not only in domestic, but 
 political affairs, for she would not be shut out from 
 her husband's official concerns; when a stranger 
 came, evidently upon some business of importance. 
 
 "What is your business, my good friend?" in- 
 quired the Mayoress, taking off a light pair of 
 shagreen-mounted spectacles. 
 
 ' I would have a word in private with the Mayor." 
 ' Mr. Mayor has no words in private that come 
 not through his lady's ears. Once more, your busi- 
 ness?" 
 
 " I must see him, and alone," said the intruder. 
 
 "Must see him," replied she; "I tell you that 
 you shall not see him before I am acquainted with 
 the cause. I hear your master on the floor above," 
 she said to a servant who had entered ; ' tell him 
 he need not hurry down, breakfast is not yet ready." 
 
 The servant retired as he was bid; but having 
 heard more of the conversation than his mistress 
 had intended, he gave his master a different message. 
 The stranger was firmly determined not to reveal his 
 business, and the Mayoress was so eager to learn it 
 that she would not dismiss him. 
 
 So they stayed, silently facing one another, and 
 presently the Mayor, beslippered and begowned, 
 came hastily into the room. 
 
 " A word in your worship's ear," said the stranger. 
 " My time is short, and the affair is urgent."
 
 ioo LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Speak out; my wife shares the burdens of this 
 office, and indeed " 
 
 " But, sir, I crave an audience in private. Should 
 you not grant my request, there are other ears shall 
 have the benefit of what is meant for your own." 
 
 The magistrate trembled before his wife's frown, 
 but he would not refuse the stranger a private inter- 
 view; so he led him quickly into a small back- 
 chamber, furnished with two stools, a desk, and 
 sundry big books. 
 
 " Now, sir," said he, puffing from unusual exer- 
 tion, for he was a round, short-legged, short-breathed 
 creature, " Now, sir, it is my lot to fill the civic 
 chair in these troublous time, and truly my portion 
 is not in pleasant places; but I am loyal, sir, loyal. 
 The King has knighted many a person less worthy 
 than myself." 
 
 "My message respects your prisoner." 
 
 "Well, sir, go on. Proceed, I say, sir. What! 
 Can't you speak?;" 
 
 The stranger did proceed as soon as he could. 
 
 " I am brief, your worship," he began. 
 
 " Brief— brief — so am I. Proceed, sir. Why stand 
 dilly-dallying here? Am I to wait your pleasure?" 
 
 " Listen, then," said the stranger. " A plot is laid 
 for the escape of your prisoner on his way to London, 
 so that unless measures be taken to hinder it he will 
 be liberated." 
 
 " Escape? — What? — Where? We will raise the 
 soldiery. How say you? I will tell my lady in- 
 stantly. Escape ! If he escape I am undone. My 
 knighthood, my knighthood, sir, is lost for ever; 
 and my lady will never look kindly on me again." 
 
 Here the little man arose, and in great agitation
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 101 
 
 would have sought counsel from his wife ; but the 
 stranger prevented him. 
 
 'This must not be; it is for your ear alone. 
 Stay!" 
 
 His worship was too much alarmed to resist, and 
 the other led him gently from the door. 
 
 " If you will be guided by me," said he, " you may 
 prevent this escape. Let him be conveyed with all 
 speed aboard the King's ship that is in the Irish 
 Channel yonder ; so shall you quit your hands of 
 him, and frustrate the plan of his confederates. 
 This must be done secretly, or his friends may get 
 knowledge of the matter, for they have had a ship 
 long waiting for him privily on the coast to convey 
 him forthwith to Scotland." 
 
 ' I will see about it directly. Dear me, I have 
 left my glasses. The town clerk must be apprised. 
 The jailer— ay, good; thinkest thou not he had best 
 be committed to jail?" 
 
 " Peradventure it will be prudent to do this. I 
 will bear your order to the town clerk for his re- 
 moval." 
 
 "What, immediately?" 
 
 "When your worship thinks best; but I would 
 urge despatch." 
 
 " I will about it instantly. There — there — take 
 this. I shall be at the clerk's office myself shortly. 
 Tell Mr. Clerk to be discreet till I come." 
 
 The little twinkling eyes of the Mayor were over- 
 flowing at the good fortune which revealed the plot 
 to him alone. He saw his path to the honours of 
 knighthood, perhaps further. His head grew dizzy 
 at the prospect. He shook the stranger bv the hand 
 and sent him on his way.
 
 102 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Soon a little antiquated clerk, with green spectacles 
 mounted in huge black rims, and a skin shrivelled 
 like parchment, was seen accompanying the stranger 
 to the inn. 
 
 The bolts of the chamber in which the prisoner 
 was confined were opened at the word of the clerk, 
 and he was admitted with his companion. The 
 prisoner himself had already risen, and was pacing 
 up and down with quick strides. 
 
 'We come, sir," said the clerk, "to announce 
 your removal; but first we search for plots. This 
 rebel's disguise, where sayest thou it is concealed?" 
 " Upon his person, sir," said the stranger. 
 ' Pray doff that noble suit, sir," cried the clerk. 
 The prisoner, with an angry scowl, silently obeyed, 
 and revealed beneath his manly attire a woman's 
 apparel— the very clothes, indeed, worn by Katherine 
 Grimes at the time of her disappearance. 
 "A well-contrived disguise, sir, truly." 
 But the prisoner, now no longer dumb, as he had 
 been at the farm, answered in a voice that even 
 awed the clerk, who was proud to think himself the 
 representative of law and power. 
 
 ' Why call you me ' sir,' sir knave? I own no 
 nicknames, and I answer to none. My title is Der- 
 wentwater." 
 
 " The titular Earl, truly, but now Charles RatclifTe, 
 
 since your brother was " 
 
 " Hanged, thou wouldst say," said the unfortunate 
 peer, interrupting him. " That was his lot, as I pray 
 thine may be when the King shall have his own 
 again. Silence I ' continued he, in a commanding 
 tone, as one accustomed to be obeyed. " I own it 
 was my purpose to escape, but there is treachery in
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 103 
 
 the camp — treachery in our own bosom — treachery " 
 — here he cast a keen glance at the stranger — " ay, 
 where our best feelings were cherished. I have 
 leaned on a spear, and it hath pierced me — ay, deeper 
 than I thought." 
 
 A strange and painful emotion was marked upon 
 his dark features; he clenched his hands, but the 
 stranger betrayed no signs of regret. 
 
 " Now, sir, I am ready," said the Earl. " Make 
 my fetters tight, — or perhaps I may be spared that 
 indignity." 
 
 But the proud Earl of Derwentwater would not 
 stoop to entreaty. 
 
 " Nay," said he, " bind them, and I will be 
 prouder of these marks than of all the honours that 
 your King could bestow." 
 
 ' We have orders merely for your safe-keeping in 
 jail," said the clerk, " and thither the proper officers 
 will see you conveyed." 
 
 He was accordingly removed to the town jail, 
 then situated to the west of Fishergate. 
 
 The clerk, not less curious, but more particular 
 in his inquiries than the Mayor, now addressed the 
 stranger as follows: 
 
 " Thou hast given good evidence of this plot. 
 Thy name is Oswald, sayest thou, and one of the 
 party who have plotted for his rescue?" 
 
 " I have told thee of this before," replied the 
 stranger sullenly. 
 
 'What should prompt thee to betray him?" 
 ' The same that prompts thee to minister to the 
 hangman's trade — gold." 
 
 "Humph!' replied the other dryly, wiping his 
 spectacles. " And what will satisfy your craving?"
 
 104 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Why, thinkest thou not that I deserve a reward 
 for my loyalty and readiness to reveal this plot? I 
 will to London with the prisoner; the King will not 
 fail to grant me largess for what this proud lackland 
 calls my treachery." 
 
 " Ay, largess indeed — a large enough noose for 
 thy neck, maybe; for my part," continued the greedy 
 and disappointed man of the law, " I have never 
 touched a doit of the bounty, though I have got 
 many a sound rating, and am harder worked than a 
 galley-slave, without ever so much as a ' thank ye 
 for my pains. There's no luck in being loyal, neither 
 honour nor honesty thrive therein." 
 
 " Thinkest thou that I may get no share of the 
 reward for his apprehension?" inquired the avari- 
 cious betrayer. 
 
 " Yes, a share, no doubt," said the clerk, much 
 pleased with his own talent for tormenting. " I 
 think thou mayest claim the Earl's linsey-woolsey 
 gown and petticoats. But come," he continued, 
 " to-night, thou sayest, a boat will be in readiness, 
 an hour before midnight, and by the Mayor's order?" 
 
 " Yes; arrangements will be made, and soon after 
 daylight we shall have our prisoner safe aboard the 
 King's cruiser," replied the stranger, " for I know 
 her bearings to a league." 
 
 " Thou wilt with us then?" 
 
 " Why, ay, if they will grant me a free passage. 
 I would fain see him safe at head-quarters." 
 
 ' I know not but thou art right ; though rest thee 
 satisfied, he shall be sufficiently guarded." 
 
 The speakers here departed — one to his desk and 
 his law cases, the other to gloat over the mischief 
 he had done — or prevented.
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 105 
 
 About an hour before midnight a heavy jarring 
 sound announced to the prisoner that the time was at 
 hand for his departure. 
 
 ' Quick, quick, sir," said the jailer; 'the Mayor 
 and his posse will see you safe aboard." 
 
 " The Mayor! Wherefore comes he to swell such 
 a procession?" 
 
 " A prisoner of your rank and influence must be 
 well looked after, I guess. The Mayor will see you 
 safely afloat, sir, and then he may go home with a quiet 
 heart. He has had sore misgivings for your safety." 
 
 The Earl accompanied his keeper. A close car- 
 riage was at the gate, well guarded. Mr. Mayor 
 and his green-eyed clerk took their seats with the 
 prisoner, and the heavy vehicle rumbled dismally 
 through the now deserted streets, waking many a 
 drowsy burgher as it passed. 
 
 They gained the low landing-place without diffi- 
 culty, having taken the precaution to chain the legs 
 and wrists of their prisoner, to prevent escape. The 
 Mayor and his shadow, the gossiping clerk, stepped 
 out first, the carriage being well guarded on each 
 side. Conducted along a jet or wooden pier, they 
 saw a fishing-boat lying beneath. The waves flapped 
 heavily on her sides, beating to and fro against the 
 pier. Four rowers were leaning silently on their 
 oars, their dark, low-crowned hats heaving above the 
 dim light which yet lay upon the water. 
 
 The Earl was lifted into the boat by two of the 
 attendants; the jailer next stepped in; three other 
 officers of justice followed. The sail was hoisted; 
 the wind was fresh, and the rowers raised their oars. 
 
 "You know the offing well, my lads?" said the 
 jailer.
 
 106 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," replied several voices. 
 
 "Where is the King's cutter?" said he, ad- 
 dressing the stranger, who was of course in the 
 boat. 
 
 " Lying-to, between us and the Peel of Fouldrey," 
 replied he. 
 
 ' This is a strange boat, I think," said the in- 
 quisitive jailer. 
 
 " We came with fish to market from Church- 
 town," was the reply. 
 
 " One of your own men engaged her," said the 
 stranger; " and these have grumbled long and hard 
 enough that they should have the ill-luck to be 
 pressed into this disagreeable service." 
 
 " I would you had laid your hands on some other 
 boat. We shall ha' na' luck after this," said the 
 eldest of the seamen. 
 
 " You may hire another now, and welcome." 
 
 But there were none at hand. The jailer, with a 
 hearty curse at his insolence, bade him be silent and 
 push off. 
 
 " Hast thou got the memorial touching my poor 
 services to the King?" inquired the Mayor. 
 
 " Have ye gotten the warrant safe, and the 
 prisoner in close custody?" asked the clerk. 
 
 But the answers were scarce heard in the noise of 
 getting under way. 
 
 Once set upon her course, the boat soon gained the 
 mid-channel. The wind was favourable, and the 
 tide, beginning to turn, swept them rapidly down 
 the river. The stranger, at whose instigation this 
 plan had been adopted, lay meanwhile in the little 
 cabin, or rather coop, wrapped in a fisherman's 
 cloak, apparently asleep. Derwentwater sought no
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 107 
 
 repose, but sat, moody and silent, in a deep reverie, 
 unconscious of all but his own dark fate. 
 
 The loud dash and furrowing of the waves, the 
 roar of the wind, the cry of the boatman as he gave 
 the soundings, were the only sounds that could be 
 heard. No one was inclined to talk, and the roll 
 and pitch of the boat, when they neared the river's 
 mouth, made the jailer and his friends still less 
 willing to disturb their comrades. 
 
 After nearly four hours the lights of the little 
 fishing hamlet of Lytham were passed, and they 
 were fast entering on the open sea. The stranger 
 now came out of the cabin, and planted himself by 
 the steersman. They were evidently on the look- 
 out for signals. It was not yet daybreak, and the 
 wind, which was from the north, bitter and biting, 
 made the jailer's teeth chatter as he raised himself 
 up to take their bearing as well as the darkness 
 would permit. 
 
 " How long run we on through these great blub- 
 bering" waves ere we end our voyage? This night's 
 wind is worse than a Robin Hood's thaw." 
 
 " We will hoist signals shortly," was the reply. 
 " If the ship is within sight she will answer and 
 bring-to." 
 
 " Have ye any drink aboard?" inquired the officer. 
 
 A bottle was handed to him. He drank eagerly of 
 the liquor, and gave the remainder to the assistants. 
 
 " I wish with all my heart," said he, " the prisoner 
 were safe out of my custody, and I on my way back. 
 I had as lief trot a hundred miles on land bare-back 
 as sit in this horrible swing for a minute. How my 
 head reels ! " 
 
 A faint light now flickered on the horizon, and
 
 108 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 disappeared. Again it seemed to rise above the 
 deep. They were evidently approaching it, and 
 the stranger spoke something in a low tone to the 
 steersman. 
 
 " Yonder it be, I reckon," said the jailer, lifting 
 his head on hearing an unusual bustle among the 
 crew. " I am fain to see it, for I am sore qualmish 
 to this up-and-down tune, with nought but the wind 
 for my fiddle." 
 
 A light, hitherto concealed, was now hoisted to 
 the mast-head. This was apparently answered by 
 another signal at no great distance. 
 
 "Friends!" cried the stranger; "and now hold 
 on to your course." 
 
 They had passed the banks, and now were some 
 leagues from the shore. Morning was feebly dawn- 
 ing behind them when the dark hull of a ship, 
 rapidly growing larger, seemed to rise out broad 
 and distinct from the thin mist towards the west. 
 The loud and incessant moan of the waters, the 
 dash and recoil of their huge tops breaking against 
 the side of the vessel, with voices from on board, 
 were heard, and immediately the boat was along- 
 side. 
 
 The transfer of their cargo was a work of more 
 difficulty, partly owing to the clumsiness and un- 
 seamanlike proceedings of the men who had charge 
 of the prisoner, and partly because the light was 
 yet too feeble for objects to be clearly seen. It 
 was thus long before the jailer, his assistants, and 
 their charge were hoisted on the deck, not of a trim, 
 gallant warship, well-garrisoned and appointed, but 
 of a lubberly trading vessel, smelling of tar, crease 
 and fish, bound for Merrv Scotland.
 
 THE HAUNTED CASKET 109 
 
 " Yoh-ih there! — helm down — back top mainsail! 
 So, masters, we had nigh slipped hawser and away. 
 Why, we have been beating about for three long 
 nights; by day we durst not be seen in-shore. Yon 
 cruiser overhauls everything. What ! got part of 
 your company in the gyves? Where is the Earl?" 
 
 " Here," said the prisoner coolly. 
 
 " Hold, captain," cried the wondering jailer, " this 
 vessel goes not on her voyage till I and two of my 
 friends here depart with the boat ; we go not farther 
 with our prisoner. The remaining two will suffice 
 to see him delivered up at head-quarters. Yet this 
 
 cannot be " The bewildered officer looked round. 
 
 " I have a warrant to commit this rebel to the safe 
 keeping of, ay, the captain of His Majesty's cutter, 
 the ' Dart,' but this," surveying the deck with a sus- 
 picious glance, "is as frowsy and fusty a piece of 
 ship's timber as ever stowed coals and cods' tails 
 between her hatches. I pray we be not nabbed," 
 added he in sudden alarm to his head craftsman. 
 
 The prisoner himself seemed to be as much sur- 
 prised as any of the group, but the stranger, now 
 addressing him, unravelled the mystery. 
 
 " My lord, I am no traitor, though you may well 
 have thought me such. You are amongst friends. 
 Thanks to a woman's wits we are, despite guards, 
 bolts and fetters, aboard the vessel which was wait- 
 ing for us when you were unhappily surprised and 
 seized, as we were trying our escape to the coast. 
 With the aid of my father I have been at last suc- 
 cessful. You are now free." It was Katherine who 
 said this. 
 
 She changed her hitherto muffled voice as she 
 continued: " Captain, we have nabbed as cunning a
 
 no LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 jailer as ever took a rogue. We will trouble him to 
 use his craft. Undo these fetters, prithee," said she 
 to the jailer. ' He must be with you, captain, till 
 you can safely put him and his fellows ashore, but 
 use him well for his vocation's sake. My lord, 
 through weal and woe I have been your counsellor — 
 your friend, but we must part now. While you were 
 in jeopardy my flight might be excused. Should 
 
 better times come " Her voice faltered; she 
 
 could not proceed, and old Grimes drew his hat down 
 over his eyes. 
 
 " Father," said Katherine, " you will take me to 
 our home again. I will be all to you once more — to 
 you and my mother, now that he is safe." 
 
 One kiss from the gallant Earl, and the high- 
 minded but low-born maiden stepped into the boat. 
 One wave of the hand, and the morning mist fell 
 like a veil between them — yet not before old Grimes, 
 taking a last view of the vessel, recognised the 
 magician of the casket looking at him over the ship's 
 side. The casket had been, in fact, the means of 
 supplying the Earl with money and information to 
 aid his escape. 
 
 The later history of the unfortunate chieftain, 
 whose daring was worthy of a better cause, is but 
 too well known. 
 
 The vessel, being ill-equipped and hardly sea- 
 worthy, was pursued and overtaken. The Earl was 
 seized and put to death.
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 
 
 " Farewell, rewards and fairies ! 
 Good housewives now may say, 
 For now foule sluts in dairies, 
 Doe fare as well as they : 
 And though they sweepe their hearths no less 
 
 Than mayds were wont to doe, 
 Yet who of late, for cleaneliness, 
 Finds sixe-pence in her shoe?" 
 
 Percy's Reliques. 
 
 ABOUT two miles north from Rochdale lies the 
 hamlet of Healey, a high tract of land, below which 
 a warm sequestered dingle leads the Spodden 
 through a scene of wild beauty. 
 
 " First Roche, a dainty rill, which Spodden from her springs, 
 A pretty rivulet, as her attendant, brings." 
 
 From the mansion of Healey, built on a slope 
 above the dell, opens out a wide prospect, embracing 
 Lime Park in Cheshire, Cloud End in Staffordshire, 
 and the Derbyshire hills. Over the smoke of Man- 
 chester the banks of the Mersey are visible, and 
 upon the horizon rises up the barn-like ridge of 
 Hellsby Tor, in the Forest of Delamere. Towards 
 the west may be seen, far out like a vast barrier, 
 the Welsh mountains, Moel Famma (mother of moun- 
 tains), with the Vale of Clwyd like a narrow cleft in 
 the blue hills, which extend until the chain of Pen- 
 maenmawr and the Isle of Anglesea abruptly ter- 
 minate in the sea. 
 
 in
 
 ii2 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Part of this wild scene, the subject of our legend, 
 is here known by its Saxon name, the Thrutch or 
 Thrust, signifying a narrow but deep and rugged 
 channel in the rocks. Through this cleft the Spodden 
 bursts with great force, forming several picturesque 
 falls, which few behold without an expression of 
 wonder and delight. 
 
 An ancient corn mill was once situated here, just 
 below the mansion. From the grist gate, by the 
 main road to Rochdale, a winding horse-way, paved 
 with stones set on edge, led down the steep bank 
 and pointed to the lonely spot where for ages the 
 clack of the hopper and the plash of the mill-wheel 
 had usurped a noisy and undisputed possession. 
 
 In the reign of our fourth Edward — we know not 
 the precise year — when fraud and feud were un- 
 redressed, and bigotry and superstition rife, when 
 the Wars of the Roses had almost desolated the 
 realm, and England's best blood flowed like a tor- 
 rent, the events which we have to relate took place. 
 It was in the beginning of the year, at the close of an 
 unusually severe winter. The miller's craft was nigh 
 useless: the current of the rivulet was almost still. 
 Everything seemed so hard and frostbound that 
 Nature looked as though her fetters were riveted for 
 ever. But the dark and sterile aspect she showed 
 was adorned by frostwork so beautiful that winter 
 lost half its terrors. Ralph Miller often looked out 
 from his dusty, dreary shed, watching the icicles that 
 gathered on his wheel and the scanty current beneath 
 the hard surface of the brook, scarcely dribbling out 
 a sufficient supply for his daily wants. Every suc- 
 ceeding morning saw the water becoming less, and 
 the unhappy miller thought that he must soon shut
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 113 
 
 up his mill altogether, for a seven weeks' frost 
 showed no signs of breaking. Want of occupation 
 breeds mischief, idleness being,. a thriftless carle that 
 leaves the house empty and the door open to the 
 next comer — an opportunity of which the enemy 
 is sure to avail himself. The miller felt the hours 
 hang heavily, and became listless and ill-humoured. 
 
 " 'Tis an ill-natured and cankered disposition, 
 this," said he one night, when sitting by the ingle 
 with his drowsy helpmate, watching the sputtering 
 billets devoured one after another by the ravening 
 flame. " 'Tis an ill-natured disposition that is 
 abroad, I say, that will neither let a man go about 
 his own business nor grant him a few honest junkets 
 these moonlight nights. I might have throttled a 
 hare or so, or a brace of rabbits ; or what dost think, 
 dame, of a couple of moorcocks for a pie?" 
 
 " Thy greed will lead thee into some snare, good 
 man. What did Master Chadwick say, who is to 
 wed Mistress Ellis, our master's daughter, if naught 
 forfend? What did he promise thee, but a week 
 agone, should he catch thee at thy old trade 
 again?" 
 
 " A murrain light on the bully! Let him stay at 
 his own homestead, and not take mastership here to 
 trouble us with his humours. His younger brother, 
 Oliver, is worth a whole pack of such down-looked, 
 smooth-faced hypocrites. Oliver Chadwick is the 
 boy for a snug quarrel. The other, mercy on me, is 
 fit for naught but to be bedridden and priest-ridden, 
 like his father and his mother to boot." 
 
 " Hush, Ralph," said the cautious dame, " let 
 thine hard speeches fall more gently on thy master's 
 son that is to be. His own parents too — methinks 
 1
 
 ii4 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 the son of Jordan and Eleanor Chadwick should earn 
 a kinder word and a lighter judgment from thy 
 tongue." 
 
 "Whew! my courteous dame. How now! And 
 so, because they are become part of the movables of 
 Holy Church, I trow, they must be handled softly 
 forsooth ! Tut, tut, beldame, they say we are like to 
 have a Holy War again, when we have settled our 
 own reckonings, and the blood and groats of old 
 England are again to be spent for the purchase of 
 Holy Land. On my halidome, wench, but I would 
 let all the priests and friars fight for it. Cunning 
 rogues ! They set us together by the ears, and then 
 run away with the pudding." 
 
 The dame groaned deeply at this reply from her 
 graceless husband. 
 
 " Some time or another," said she, " thou wilt 
 rue these wicked speeches ; and who knows whether 
 these very words of thine may not have been heard 
 in the Fairies' Chapel, or whispered away beyond 
 the forest to the witches' tryst!" 
 
 " I care not for all the imps and warlocks in the 
 parish, hags and old women to boot. Let them come 
 face to face. Here am I, honest Ralph the Miller, 
 who never took toll from an empty sack, nor ne'er 
 missed the mouth of a full one. Tol-de-rol! ' 
 
 Here he stood, with arms akimbo, as if daring the 
 whole fellowship of Satan, with their abettors and 
 allies. This speech was doubtless reported at the 
 Fairies' Chapel hard by, for the dame vowed ever 
 after that she heard as it were an echo or a low soon- 
 ing sound, ending with an eldritch laugh, amongst 
 the rocks in that direction. This well-known haunt 
 of the elves and fays was but a good bowshot from
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 115 
 
 the mill, and would have terrified many a stouter 
 heart, had not familiarity lulled their fears. Stran- 
 gers often wondered that any human being dared 
 to sojourn so near the haunts of the " good people," 
 and were sure that, sooner or later, the inhabitants 
 would rue so dangerous a neighbourhood. 
 
 A few evenings after this foolhardy challenge, 
 Ralph had been scrambling away far up the dingle 
 for a supply of firewood. The same keen tingling 
 air was abroad, but the sky, where the sun had 
 thrown his lovely coronal of rays, was streaked across 
 with a mottled and hazy light, the forerunner of 
 a change. The miller was labouring down the steep 
 path with his load, crashing through the boughs, and 
 shaking off their hoary burdens in his progress. 
 Suddenly he heard a cry that he quickly recognised. 
 It was the shriek of a hare caught struggling in 
 the toils. At once he threw down his faggots, and 
 rushing through the brake, saw, or thought he saw, 
 in the soft twilight, an unfortunate puss in the noose. 
 He threw himself eagerly forward, expecting to grasp 
 the prize, when lo ! up started the timid animal, and 
 limping away, as if hurt, kept the covetous poacher 
 at her heels, every moment supposing that he was 
 sure of his prey. Rueful was his pilgrimage. The 
 hare doubled and sprang aside whenever he came 
 within striking distance, and then limped on as be- 
 fore. Ralph paused at a point where a wide gap 
 revealed the scanty waterfall, just glimmering 
 through the mist below him. It was the nearest way 
 to the Fairies' Chapel, which lies behind and 
 towards the source of the waterfall. The unlucky 
 hare paused too for a moment, as though afraid to 
 leap, but she looked back at her pursuer so bewitch-
 
 u6 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ingly that his heart was in his mouth, and fearless 
 of consequences, he rushed towards her; but he 
 slipped and fell down the crumbling bank. Re- 
 covering from the shock, he looked up and saw the 
 animal stealing off, between the edge of the stream 
 and the low copse-wood by the brink, towards the 
 Fairies' Chapel. He made one desperate effort to 
 lay hold of her before she set foot on enchanted 
 ground. 
 
 He had seized her, or so he imagined, when lo ! 
 something black and uncanny rose before him, grin- 
 ning as if in mockery. Ralph was stupefied and 
 bewildered. Fascinated by terror, he could not re- 
 frain from following this strange form, which, de- 
 lighted to have ensnared him, frisked away with 
 uncouth and fiendish gambols to the very centre of 
 the chapel. Ralph, sturdy and blustering upon his 
 own threshold, felt his courage oozing fast out at 
 elbows, when he saw the cold moonlight streaming 
 through the branches above him, and their crawl- 
 ing shadows on the grotesque rock by his side. 
 
 He was now alone, shivering from cold and fright. 
 He felt as though frozen to the spot, and wondered 
 if he were being changed into stone— perhaps a 
 living statue for the fairies' apartment. His great 
 feet were already immovable ; he felt his hair con- 
 gealing, his locks hung like icicles, and his whole 
 body seemed one mass of ice, through which his 
 chilled blood crept slowly and more slowly still. 
 Suddenly he heard a loud yelping, as if the hounds 
 were in full cry. The sound passed right through 
 the middle of the Fairies' Hall, and came quite 
 close to his ear, but there was no visible sign of 
 their presence, except a slight movement, and then
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 117 
 
 a shiver amongst the frost-bitten boughs above the 
 rocks. He could not bethink him of his prayer, 
 which doubtless would have dissolved the charm. 
 While he was painfully and dully pondering on what 
 had happened, there started through the crevice a 
 single light, like a glow-worm's lantern. Then a 
 tiny thing came forth, clad in white — a miniature 
 of the human figure, and after peeping about cau- 
 tiously ran back when it saw the terrified miller, 
 standing stiff in the narrow glen. 
 
 Ralph knew now that he had been enticed here for 
 no good. It might be for the malicious purpose 
 of drawing down upon him the puny and fearful 
 vengeance of those irritable creatures, the fairies, 
 and soon he saw a whole troop of them issuing out 
 of the crevice. As they came nearer, he heard the 
 short tread of their tiny host. One of them mounted 
 the little pillar called the Fairies' Chair, round which 
 multitudes gathered, as if waiting for the command 
 of their king. It was clear that they meant to 
 inflict a signal punishment on him for his intrusion. 
 
 The miller watched their movements with eyes of 
 fear. The elf on the pillar, a little wrinkled being 
 with a long nose, bottle-green eyes, and shrivelled 
 yellowish-green face, addressed him with cruel cour- 
 tesy, and inquired in a shrill squeaking tone, what 
 was his business in these regions. 
 
 Ralph was too terrified to reply. 
 
 " How lucky!" said the old fairy: 'we have a 
 mortal here, just in the nick of time. He will do 
 our bidding rarely, for 'tis the stout miller hard by, 
 who fears neither fairy, man, nor witch, by his own 
 confession. We'll put his courage to the proof." 
 
 Ralph was now thawing through terror.
 
 n8 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ' We would have punished this thine impertinent 
 curiosity, had we not other business for thee, friend," 
 said the malicious little devilkin. " Place thy fingers 
 on thy thigh, and swear by Hecate, Merlin and the 
 Fairies' Hall that within three days thou wilt fulfil 
 our bequest." 
 
 Ralph assented, with a hideous grimace, glad upon 
 any terms to escape. 
 
 The whole company disappeared, but a faint, sul- 
 phur-like flame hovered, for a while, over the spot 
 they had left. 
 
 Soon he heard the following words, in a voice of 
 ravishing sweetness: 
 
 " Mortal I must cease to be 
 If no maiden honestly 
 Plight her virgin troth to me, 
 By yon cold moon's silver shower, 
 In the chill and mystic hour, 
 When the arrowy moonbeams fall, 
 In the fairies' festive hall. 
 Twice her light shall o'er me pass, 
 Then I am what once I was, 
 Should no maid, betrothed, but free, 
 Plight her virgin vow to me." 
 
 The music ceased for a short space; then a voice, 
 like the soft whisper of the summer winds, chanted 
 the following lines in a sort of monotonous recita- 
 tion: 
 
 " Mortal, take this unstained token, 
 Unpledged vows were never broken ; 
 Lay it where a Byron's hand 
 This message finds from fairyland — 
 Fair Eleanor, the love-sick maid, 
 Who sighs unto her own soft shade : 
 Bid her on this tablet write 
 What lover's wish should e'er indite ; 
 Then give it to the faithful stream 
 (As bright and pure as love's first dream) 
 That murmurs by — 'twill bring to me 
 The messenger I give to thee.
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 119 
 
 " But the maiden thou must bring 
 Hither, to our elfin king, 
 'Ere three days are come and gone, 
 When the moon hath kissed the stone, 
 By our fairy monarch's throne 
 Should'st thou fail, or she refuse, 
 Death is thine ; or thou may'st choose 
 With us to chase the moonbeams bright 
 Around the busy world. Good-night." 
 
 He now felt something slipped into his hand. 
 ' Remember," said the voice, " when that shadow 
 is on the pillar, thou must return." 
 
 The astonished miller was not long in gaining 
 his own threshold. But he was a moody and an 
 altered man. The dame could not help shuddering 
 as she saw his ashen visage, and his eyes fixed, 
 and almost starting from their sockets. His cheeks 
 were sunken, his head was bare and his locks 
 covered with rime and with fragments from the 
 boughs that had intercepted his path. 
 
 " Mercy on me! " cried she, lifting up her hands, 
 " what terrible thing has happened? O Ralph, 
 Ralph, thy silly gostering speeches, I do fear me, 
 have had a sting in their tail thou hast little dreamed 
 of. Thou hast seen the fairies or the black dog. 
 I will not upbraid thee with thy foolish speeches, 
 yet would I thou hadst not spoken so lightly of the 
 good people. But take courage, goodman; thou art 
 never the worse yet for thy mishap, I trow; so tell 
 me what has befallen thee, and ha' done snoring 
 there, like an owl in a barn riggin'." 
 
 A long time elapsed afore the affrighted miller 
 could tell his misfortunes. But women's wits are 
 more fertile in expedients and more adroit for plots 
 and counterplots than men's. The dame was greatly 
 terrified at the story, yet not so as to prevent her
 
 120 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 from being able to counsel her husband as to the 
 plan he should pursue. 
 
 We now leave our honest miller for a space, while 
 we introduce another person of great importance 
 into our story. 
 
 Oliver Chadwyck was the second son of Jordan 
 Chadwyck, dwelling at a fort or peel of the same 
 name, nearly two miles from Healey. Oliver had, 
 from his youth, been betrothed to Eleanor Byron, 
 a young and noble dame of great beauty, who lived 
 with her uncle, Sir Nicholas Byron, at his mansion, 
 two or three miles distant. Oliver was a hot-brained 
 youth, fitted for all weathers, ready either for 
 brotherhood or for blows, and would have won his 
 " ladyelove " at the lance's point or by onslaught or 
 hard knocks. 
 
 Eleanor looked upon him as her future husband; 
 but she would rather have been wooed to be won. 
 She liked not the coarse blunt manner of her gallant, 
 nor the hard gripe and iron tramp for which he 
 was distinguished. 
 
 Yet was Oliver Chadwyck reckoned the best-look- 
 ing cavalier in the neighbourhood, and, moreover, an 
 adherent to the " Red Rose," under whose banner 
 he had fought, and, even when very young, had 
 gained distinction for his bravery — no mean recom- 
 mendation, truly, in those days, when courage was 
 reckoned a sure passport to a lady's favour, which, 
 it might seem, whoever held out the longest and 
 struck the hardest was sure to win." 
 
 One evening, about the time of the miller's ad- 
 venture in the Fairies' Chapel, Eleanor was looking
 
 THE FAIRIES* CHAPEL 121 
 
 through her casement listlessly, perhaps uncon- 
 sciously. She sighed for occupation. The glorious 
 hues of sunset were gone ; the moon was rising, 
 and she watched its course from the horizon of long 
 dark hills up to the bare boughs of the sycamore 
 by the banks of the little stream below. Her sigh 
 became a moan which seemed to be re-echoed from 
 the walls of her chamber. She almost expected the 
 grim panels to start aside as she looked round, half 
 wishing, half afraid that she might discover the 
 intruder. 
 
 Disappointed, she turned again to the casement, 
 through which the moonbeams, now partly caught 
 by the branches, lay in chequered light and darkness 
 on the floor. 
 
 "I thought thou wert here. Alas! I am un- 
 happy, and I know not why." While she spoke a 
 tear trembled on her dark eyelashes, and as the 
 moonlight shone upon it, a radiant form seemed to 
 glide through the chamber. But the spectre van- 
 ished as her eyelid closed, and swept away the illu- 
 sion. She leaned her glowing cheek upon a hand 
 white and exquisitely formed as the purest statuary; 
 an image of more perfect loveliness never glanced 
 through a lady's lattice. She carelessly took up her 
 cithern. A few wild chords flew from her touch, 
 and she hummed a low and plaintive descant, mourn- 
 ful and tender as her own thoughts. 
 
 " It is the stream 
 Singing to the cold moon with babbling tongue ; 
 Yet, ah ! not half so wildly as the song 
 Of my heart's dream. 
 
 Is not my love most beautiful, thou moon? 
 Though pale as hope delayed ;
 
 122 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Methought, beneath his feet the wild flowers played 
 Like living hearts in tune. 
 
 " We stood alone : 
 Then, as he drew the dark curls from my sight, 
 Through his transparent hand and arm of light 
 The far skies shone. 
 
 List', 'twas the dove. 
 It seemed the echo of his own fond tone ; 
 Sweet as the hymn of seraphs round the throne 
 
 Of hope and love." 
 
 Night after night the vision was repeated; and 
 when her betrothed came, it was as though some 
 chord of feeling had jarred, some tie were broken, 
 some delicious dream were interrupted, and she 
 turned from him with vexation and regret. He 
 chided her caprice, which he endured impatiently, 
 and without even the show of forbearance. This did 
 not restore him to her favour, nor render him more 
 winning and attractive; the invisible gallant, a rival 
 he little dreamt of, was silently occupying the heart 
 once destined for his own. 
 
 One evening, Ralph, in pursuance of the com- 
 mands he had received, arrayed in his best doublet, 
 his brown hose, and a huge waist- or under-under- 
 coat, beneath which lay a heavy and foreboding 
 heart, made his appearance at the house of Sir 
 Nicholas Byron, an irregular and ugly structure of 
 lath and plaster, well ribbed with stout timber, situ- 
 ated in a sheltered nook near the edge of the Beil, 
 a brook running below Belfield, once an establish- 
 ment of the renowned knights of St. John of Jeru- 
 salem, or Knights Templars. 
 
 Ralph was ushered into the lady's chamber; and
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 123 
 
 she, as if expecting some more distinguished visitant, 
 looked with an eye of disappointment and annoyance 
 upon him as he made his homely salutation. 
 
 "Thine errand?" inquired she. 
 
 " Verily, a fool's, lady," replied Ralph, ' and a 
 thriftless one, I fear me, into the bargain." 
 
 " Stay thy tongue. Yet I bethink me now," said 
 she, looking earnestly at him, " thou art from my 
 cousin: a messenger from him, I trow." 
 
 " Nay," said the ambiguous hind, " 'tis from other 
 
 guess folk, belike; but— who— I Like enough 
 
 that the Lady Eleanor will go a fortune-hunting 
 with such a simpleton as I am!" 
 
 " Go with thee?" said the lady in amazement. 
 
 " Why, ay— I was bid to bring you to the Fairies' 
 Chapel, beyond the waterfall in the wood by Healey, 
 and that ere to-morrow night. But I am doomed 
 and a dying man, for how should the Lady Eleanor 
 obey this message?" 
 
 Here the unhappy miller began to weep; but the 
 lady was dumb with astonishment. 
 
 "Forgive me, lady, in this matter; but I was 
 bound in a manner to accomplish mine end." 
 
 " And what if I should accompany thee? Wouldst 
 thou be my champion, my protector from onslaught 
 and evil?" 
 
 Here he opened his huge grey eyes to such an 
 alarming extent that Eleanor had much ado to refrain 
 from smiling. 
 
 " If you will go, lady, I shall be a living man; 
 
 and you " a dead woman, probably he would have 
 
 said; but the word did not escape his lips, for the 
 joy and surprise of the wary miller were beyond 
 utterance.
 
 124 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 "But whence thy message, friend?" said the de- 
 luded maiden, eyeing him suspiciously. 
 
 ' Why, the message was whispered in my ear. 
 A stranger brought it together with a dismal threat 
 should I not bring you at the time appointed." 
 
 Here the miller became uneasy and alarmed. A 
 cold shudder crept over him, and he looked implor- 
 ingly at her. 
 
 " But they say, my trusty miller, that this chapel 
 of the fairies may not be visited, forbidden as it is 
 to all after nightfall." 
 
 At this intimation the miller displayed his broad 
 thumbs, and looked so miserable, sprawling out his 
 large ungainly proportions, that Eleanor, though not 
 prone to the indulgence of mirth, was amused at his 
 cowardly and dismal aspect. 
 
 " Nay, lady, I beseech you," he stammered out. 
 " I am a dead dog if you go not. Ha' pity on your 
 knave, and deliver me from my tormentors." 
 
 " Then, to-morrow I will deliver thee," said the 
 maiden, " and break this enchantment. But the 
 hour?" 
 
 " Ere the moonbeam touches the pillar in the 
 Fairies' Hall." 
 
 " Agreed, knave. So begone. Yet — answer truly 
 for thy life — was no pledge, no token, sent with 
 this message?" 
 
 Ralph unwillingly drew forth the token from his 
 belt. Fearful that it might make known more than 
 he wished, the treacherous messenger had kept back 
 the tablets entrusted to him. He suspected that 
 should she be aware it was the good people who 
 were wanting her, he would have had but a slender 
 chance of success.
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 125 
 
 She glanced hastily, anxiously, over the page, 
 though with great surprise. 
 
 'How now?" said she thoughtfully. 'Here is 
 a pretty love-billet truly. The page is fair and; 
 unspotted — fit emblem of a lover's thoughts." 
 
 ' You are to write thereon, lady, your lover's wish, 
 and throw it into the brook here, hard by. The 
 stream, a trusty messenger, will carry it back to its 
 owner." 
 
 Ralph delivered his message with great reluctance, 
 fearful lest she might be alarmed and retract her 
 promise. To his great joy, however, she replaced 
 the mystic token in her bosom, and bade him attend 
 on the morrow. 
 
 This he promised faithfully, and with a light 
 heart returned to his abode. 
 
 Eleanor watched his departure with impatience. 
 She took the tablets from her bosom. Her mind 
 misgave her, and as she drew towards the lamp it 
 shot forth a tremendous blaze and expired. Yet 
 with desperate haste, bent it might seem on her own 
 destruction, she approached the window. The moon- 
 beam shone full upon the page as she scrawled with 
 great trepidation the word, "thine." To her un- 
 speakable horror the letters became a track of fire, 
 but as she gazed a drop of dark red blood fell on 
 them and obliterated the writing. 
 
 "Must the compact be in blood? "said she, shrink- 
 ing. "Nay, then, farewell! If thou art aught 
 within the pale of mercy I am thine, but not in 
 blood." 
 
 Again, but on another page, she wrote the word, 
 "thine." Again the blood-drop effaced the let- 
 ters.
 
 126 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 "Never, though I love thee! Why urge this 
 pledge?" With a trembling hand she retraced her 
 writing, and the omen was not repeated. With joy 
 she saw the writing was unchanged. 
 
 Throwing on her hood and kerchief, she stole 
 forth to the brook, and into the rivulet, where it was 
 yet dark and unfrozen, she threw the mystic tablet. 
 
 The following night she watched the moon as it 
 rose above the huge crags called Robin Hood's Bed, 
 or Robin Hood's Chair. 
 
 One jagged peak, projected from the moon's limb, 
 looked like some huge spectre issuing from her 
 bright pavilion. The wind, too, began to impart 
 that peculiar chill so well understood as the fore- 
 runner of a change. Muffled and alone she took 
 her adventurous journey to the mill, where she ar- 
 rived in about an hour from her departure. Ralph 
 was anxiously expecting her, together with his dame. 
 
 " Good e'en, lady," said the latter, with great 
 alacrity, as Eleanor crossed the threshold. She re- 
 turned the salutation, but her features were lighted 
 up with a deceptive brightness, and her glowing eye 
 betrayed the raging conflict within. 
 
 " The shadow will soon point to the hour, and 
 we must be gone," said the impatient miller. 
 
 "Lead on," replied the courageous maiden; and 
 he shrank from her gaze, conscious of his own 
 treachery and her danger. 
 
 The hard and ice-bound waters were dissolving, 
 and might be heard to gurgle in their deep recesses ; 
 drops began to trickle from the trees, the bushes to 
 relax their hold, and shake off their icy trammels. 
 Towards the south-west lay a dense range of clouds, 
 their fleecy tops telling with what message they were
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 127 
 
 charged. Still the moon cast a subdued and linger- 
 ing light over the scene, from which she was shortly- 
 destined to be shut out. 
 
 Ralph led the way silently and with great cau- 
 tion through the slippery ravine. The moonlight 
 flickered through the leafless branches on the heights 
 above them, their path winding through the shadows 
 by the stream. 
 
 ' We must hasten," said her guide, "or we may 
 miss the signal. We shall soon take leave of the 
 moonlight, and perhaps lose our labour thereby." 
 
 They crept onwards until they saw the dark rocks 
 in the Fairies' Chapel. The miller pointed to a 
 long withered bough that flung out its giant arms far 
 over the gulf from a great height. The moon threw 
 down the shadow across to the bank on the other 
 side, marking its rude outline on the crags. 
 
 ' The signal," said Ralph; ' and by your favour, 
 lady, I must depart. I have redeemed my pledge." 
 
 ' Stay, I prithee, but within hearing," said 
 Eleanor. " I like not the aspect of this place. If 
 I call, hasten instantly to my succour." 
 
 The miller promised, but with a secret deter- 
 mination to risk no more for all the bright-eyed 
 dames in Christendom. 
 
 She listened to his departing footsteps, and her 
 heart seemed to lose its support. An indescribable 
 feeling crept upon her — a consciousness that another 
 was present in this solitude. She threw round an 
 apprehensive glance, but all was still — the dripping 
 boughs alone breaking the almost intolerable silence 
 that surrounded her. Suddenly she heard a sigh, 
 and a rustling at her ear ; then a voice, musical 
 but sad, whispered:
 
 128 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 " Thou hast rejected my suit. Another holds thy 
 pledge." 
 
 "Another! Who art thou?" said the maiden, 
 forgetting her fears in the first emotion of surprise. 
 ' Thou hast been conscious of my presence in 
 thy dreams!" replied the mysterious visitor. 
 
 She was no longer afraid, for the being whom she 
 loved was the guardian of her safety. 
 
 " I have loved thee, maiden/' said the voice; " I 
 have hovered round thee when thou wast asleep, and 
 thou hast answered my every thought. Wherefore 
 hast thou not obeyed? Why not seal thy compact 
 and our happiness together?" 
 
 " Because it was unhallowed," said she firmly, 
 though she trembled like the leaf fluttering from 
 the stem. 
 
 " Another has taken thy pledge. Yet it is not 
 too late. Renew the contract, even with thy blood, 
 and I am thine! Refuse, and thou art his. If this 
 hour pass, I am lost to thee for ever." 
 
 " To whom," inquired Eleanor, " has it been con- 
 veyed?" 
 
 " To thy first, thy betrothed lover. He found 
 the pledge that I would not receive." 
 
 " Who art thou?" she said. 
 
 " And what boots it, lady? But listen. These 
 elves be my slaves; and yet I am not immortal. My 
 term is nigh run out, though it may be renewed if, 
 before the last hour be past, a maiden plight her 
 hopes, her happiness to me ! Ere that shadow creeps 
 on the fairy pillar thou art irrevocably mine, or his 
 whom thou dreadst." 
 
 Eleanor groaned aloud. She felt a cold hand 
 creeping on her brow. She screamed involuntarily.
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 129 
 
 On a sudden the boughs bent with a loud crash 
 above her head, and a form rushing down the heights 
 stood before her. This unexpected deliverer was 
 Oliver Chadwyck. Alarmed by a woman's cries 
 as he was returning from the chase, he interposed 
 at the very moment when his mistress was in 
 danger. 
 
 " Rash fool, thou hast earned thy doom. Thy 
 blood be on thine own head. Thou art the sacri- 
 fice! " 
 
 This was said in a voice of terrible malignity. 
 A loud tramp as of a mighty host was heard passing 
 away, and Oliver now beheld the form of his be- 
 trothed. 
 
 "Eleanor! Here! In this unholy place!" cried 
 her lover. But the maiden was unable to answer. 
 
 " There's blood upon my hand! " said he, holding 
 it up in the now clear and unclouded moonlight. 
 "Art thou wounded, lady?" 
 
 " I know not," she replied; " I was alone. Yet I 
 felt as though some living thing were nigh — some 
 unseen form of a terrible nature. Was it not a 
 dream?" 
 
 "Nay," said Oliver pensively; " methought an- 
 other was beside thee! " 
 
 " I saw him not." 
 
 "How earnest thou hither?" 
 
 " Let us be gone," said she, trembling; ' I will 
 tell thee all." 
 
 She laid her head on his shoulder. It throbbed 
 heavily. " I am now free. I feel as though newly 
 awakened from some horrible dream ! Thou hast 
 saved me, Oliver. But if thine own life is the 
 price ! " 
 
 K
 
 130 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 ' Fear not ; I defy them — in their very den too : 
 and thus, I renounce the devil and all his works! " 
 
 He spat thrice upon the ground, to show his 
 loathing and contempt. 
 
 "Oh! say not so," cried Eleanor, looking round 
 in great alarm. 
 
 Oliver bore her in his arms from that fearful 
 spot, and accompanied her home. 
 
 It was near the break of day when, exhausted 
 and alone, she again retired to her chamber. By 
 the way, Oliver told her that he had found a mysteri- 
 ous tablet on the edge of the brook the same morn- 
 ing. He had luckily hidden it in his bosom, and 
 he felt as though a talisman or charm had protected 
 him from the spells of the Fairies' Chapel. 
 
 Springtide was past, and great was the stir and 
 bustle for the approaching marriage of Oliver Chad- 
 wyck and the Lady Eleanor. All the yeomanry, 
 inhabitants of the hamlets of Honorsfield, Butter- 
 worth and Healey, were invited to the wedding. 
 Dancers and mummers were provided; wrestlers and 
 cudgel-players, with games and pastimes of all sorts, 
 were appointed. The feasts were to be held for 
 three days, and masks, motions and other rare de- 
 vices were expected to surpass every former attempt 
 of the kind. 
 
 Eleanor sat in her lonely bower. It was the 
 night before the bridal. To-morrow would see her 
 depart in pageantry and pomp — an envied bride ! 
 Yet was her heart heavy, and she wept. 
 
 Now there was an ancient superstition, that if,
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL iti 
 
 o' 
 
 on the night before the marriage, a taper were 
 burned, made from the fat of a young sow, and 
 anointed with blood at midnight, a spirit would 
 appear and pronounce the good or evil destiny of 
 the inquirer. 
 
 Eleanor prepared the charm ere she laid her 
 throbbing head on the pillow. She slept, and dreamt 
 there came a rushing wind. The door flapped to 
 and fro, the curtains shook. Suddenly, starting from 
 the panel, a scowl on her visage, down stalked one 
 of the family portraits. It was that of a woman — a 
 maiden aunt of the house of Byron, painted by one 
 of the court artists, whom the king had brought 
 from France and patronised at a heavy cost. This 
 venerable dame appeared to gaze at the spectator 
 from whatsoever place she was beholden. The eyes 
 even seemed to follow you when passing across the 
 chamber — a natural consequence enough, and only 
 marvelled at by the ignorant and illiterate. 
 
 This ancient personage now advanced from her 
 hanging-place, and, standing at the foot of the bed, 
 opened out a scroll with these words : 
 
 " Maid, wife and widow in one day, 
 This shall be thy destiny." 
 
 Eleanor struggled hard, but was unable to move. 
 She laboured for utterance, but was unable to speak. 
 At length, with one desperate effort, a loud cry 
 escaped her, and the vision disappeared. She slept 
 no more, but morning disclosed her haggard cheek 
 and sunken eye, intimating that neither hope nor 
 joy could have been the companion of her slum- 
 bers. 
 
 It was a bright morning in June. The sun rode
 
 132 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 high and clear in the blue heavens. The birds had 
 ' sung their matins blythe " ere the bridegroom ar- 
 rived with his attendants. Merrily did the village 
 choristers acquit themselves, while those that were 
 appointed strewed flowers in the way. The bells 
 of St. Chad trolled out their merry notes when the 
 ceremony was over, and the bride, on her snow- 
 white palfrey, passed on, escorted by her husband, 
 at the head of the procession. Gay cavaliers on 
 horseback and the maidens prancing by their side 
 made the welkin ring with loud and mirthful dis- 
 course. The elder Byron rode on his charger by 
 the side of Jordan Chadwyck and his eldest son, with 
 whom rode the vicar, Richard Salley, nothing loth 
 to share in the festival. 
 
 As the procession drew near to the hall, a mes- 
 senger rode forward in great haste, and whispered 
 to Byron, who, with angry and disordered looks, 
 shouted aloud to Oliver: 
 
 "Away — away! The cowardly Traffords are at 
 our threshold. They have skulked out, like traitors 
 as they be, knowing our absence at the feast. 'Tis 
 an old feud, and a bloody one. Who is for Byron? 
 Down with the Traffords!" 
 
 The old man here put spurs to his horse, and 
 galloped off with his attendants. 
 
 " A Byron — a Byron! " shouted Oliver, as he fol- 
 lowed in full cry, first leaving his wife under a 
 suitable and safe escort. Soon they routed the 
 enemy, but the prediction was complete ; for Eleanor 
 became 
 
 " Maid, wife and widow in one day ! " 
 
 her husband being slain during the battle.
 
 THE FAIRIES' CHAPEL 133 
 
 The blood of a man was held of little account in 
 those days, if we may judge by the following award 
 on the occasion: 
 
 " In virtue of a writ of appeal of death, sued out 
 against Sir John Trafford, Knight, his tenants and 
 servants, the sum of sixty pounds was deemed to be 
 paid by Trafford to Biroun to be distributed amongst 
 the cousins and friends of the late Oliver C, in the 
 parish church of Manchester, on the award of Sir 
 Thomas Stanley, Knight, Lord Stanley — viz. ten 
 marks at the nativity of John the Baptist, and ten 
 marks at St. Martyn, yearly, until the whole was 
 paid, and all parties to be fully friends. 
 
 " Dated London, 24th March, 20 Edward IV. 
 1480."
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 
 
 Towards the end of the reign of William the 
 Norman Conqueror, Gamel the Saxon Thane (Lord 
 of Racedham or Rached), being left in the quiet 
 possession of his lands and privileges by the usurper 
 was minded, as the phrase then was, " for the fear 
 of God and the salvation of his immortal soul " to 
 build a chapel to St. Chad, near to the banks of 
 the Rache or Roach. For this pious use a con- 
 venient place was set apart, lying on the north bank 
 of the river, in a low and sheltered spot now called 
 the Newgate. Piles of timber and huge stones were 
 gathered thither in the most unwonted profusion; 
 indeed they seemed destined for some more splendid 
 building than any of the churches of the neighbour- 
 ing country. 
 
 The foundations were laid. The loose and spongy 
 nature of the soil required heavy stakes to be driven 
 in ; upon these and between them were laid several 
 courses of rubble stone ready to receive the cement. 
 Yet in one night the whole mass was conveyed 
 without the loss of a single stone to the summit of 
 a steep hill on the opposite bank, and this without 
 any marks or signs to betoken the agents or means 
 employed for its removal. Great was the alarm that 
 spread among the dwellers of Castletown, Spodden- 
 land, Honorsfield and Buckland, which we may call 
 the surrounding villages, though in fact they were 
 
 i34
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 135 
 
 each of them little more than groups of simple 
 cabins. With the alarm of the people horror and 
 anger were mixed. The Thane especially was in- 
 dignant. This daring presumption, this wilful out- 
 rage, so like bidding defiance to his power, bearding 
 the lion even in his den, he deemed an offence call- 
 ing for signal vengeance upon the guilty. 
 
 At the cross in Honorsfield a proclamation was 
 recited that unless the offenders were at once given 
 up for punishment a heavy fine would be imposed, 
 and the unhappy villains and bordarii be subjected 
 to such further penalties as their master's displea- 
 sure might demand. Now this was a grievous dis- 
 aster to the unhappy vassals, for none could safely 
 or truly accuse his neighbour. All were agreed that 
 this was not the work of human hands. The wiser 
 folk suggested that the old deities whom their fathers 
 had worshipped and whose altars had been thrown 
 down and sacrifices forbidden, had burst forth from 
 the thraldom in which they had been held by the 
 Christian priests, and were now meditating a fearful 
 revenge for the many insults which they had endured. 
 But the decree of the Thane was urgent and called 
 for action, and so a council was held for devising 
 some plan for their relief. 
 
 Hugh de Chadwicke and John de Spotland were 
 subordinate lords or feudatories, holding fortified 
 dwellings, castellets or peels, in the Manor of Roch- 
 dale ; the former had built his rude mansion of mas- 
 sive timber for the double purpose of habitation 
 and defence on a bold eminence, forming a steep 
 part of the river-bank about a mile from the Thane's 
 castle. Claiming a relationship to the lord, he was 
 in some measure privileged above his friend de
 
 136 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 Spotland, though he too was a personage of great 
 power and influence at the Manor Court. To these 
 men, when their aid was needed as counsellors or 
 intercessors, the inhabitants were wont to repair. 
 Hugh de Chadwicke was a man of mild and grave 
 deportment, but shrewd and wary. John de Spot- 
 land was of a more bold and open temper. De 
 Chadwicke proposed a humble address to the Thane, 
 with a pledge that all diligence should be used for 
 the fulfilment of his demands. John urged the 
 removal of the materials with all speed to their 
 original site, a watch being set to discover the de- 
 linquents should they again presume to lay hands 
 upon them. The wisdom and propriety of this pre- 
 caution were undisputed; but no one seemed willing 
 to undergo the terrible ordeal, for if they did as they 
 were commanded the goblins would punish them; 
 and yet unless they were present and with their own 
 eyes saw the stones carried away, their ruler would 
 not believe them. He would visit with fearful 
 severity all their endeavours to deceive, nor would he 
 credit their belief, unless it were confirmed by the 
 testimony of an eye-witness. How to procure this 
 desirable source of intelligence was a question that 
 was hourly becoming more difficult to solve. 
 
 Slow and melancholy was their return, while with 
 fear and hesitation they communicated the result. 
 
 "Now, shame befall thee, Adam of Wills!" said 
 a stout woman to one of the speakers; " thou wert 
 ever a tough fighter ; and the cudgel and ragged 
 staff were as glib in thine hands as a beggar's 
 pouch on alms-days. Show thy mettle, man. I'll 
 spice thee a jug of barley-drink, an' thou be for 
 the bout this time."
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 137 
 
 ' Nay," returned Adam. " I'll fight with aught 
 I can hit ; but as for these boggarts, they say a 
 blow falls on 'em like rain-drops on a mist, or like 
 beating the wind with a corn-flail. I cannot fight 
 with naught, as it were." 
 
 "Shame on thee, Hal!' said a shrill-tongued, 
 crooked little body, arrayed in a coarse grey hood, 
 and holding a stick, like a one-handed crutch, of 
 enormous dimensions. "Shame on thee! I would 
 watch myself, but the night- wind is too sharp for 
 an old body." 
 
 She cast her little bleared eyes, half shut and full 
 of contempt, on the cowardly bystanders. 
 
 " Now, if there be not old Cicely," first went 
 round in a whisper; then a deep silence gradually 
 pervaded the assembly. 
 
 She had just hobbled down to the cross, and the 
 audience seemed to watch her looks with awe and 
 suspicion. 
 
 " What, none o' ye? Come, Uctred, thou shalt 
 shame these big-tongued, wide-mouthed boasters." 
 
 A short, swarthy-looking boy, with a leering and 
 unfavourable countenance, here stepped forward, tak- 
 ing his station upon one of the steps beside his 
 mother. A notion had gone abroad that the boy 
 was the son of a fairy or pixy, and his mother was 
 thought to bear a charmed life. The boy was dumb. 
 His lips had, however, at times a slight and tremu- 
 lous movement, from which it was supposed that 
 some discourse was then carrying on between " the 
 dummy," as he was generally called, and his invis- 
 ible relatives. His whole aspect was singularly pain- 
 ful and forbidding. 
 
 " Now what will you give me for the use of his
 
 MS LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 o 
 
 pretty eyes this lucky night? The Thane will have 
 regard to his testimony, though all that have free 
 use of the tongue he holds to be liars and dishonest. 
 Never lied this youth by sign or token ! ' 
 
 A buzz went through the company, and the dame 
 and her boy again sat down to await the issue. All 
 eyes were directed towards them, timidly and by 
 stealth, as the consultation grew louder and more 
 continuous. , 
 
 A pause at length ensued. Some three or four of 
 the group drew towards the crone, who sat almost 
 double, her chin resting on the neb of her crutch. 
 
 " Now will we give thee two changes of raiment, 
 together with a mess of barley-pottage; and every 
 year thou shalt have a penny at Easter, and a fat hen 
 at Shrovetide." 
 
 " Good," said the greedy beldame; ' but I'll have 
 a sheep-skin cap for the boy, and a horn spoon." 
 This demand was also granted; after which she 
 made signs to the lad, who swung his head to and 
 fro, and made the most terrible grimaces. It was 
 evident that he understood the nature of these pro- 
 ceedings. A glance of mockery and derision he 
 cast towards the crowd; and when Mother Cicely 
 was returning, he threw back upon them a look of 
 scorn and malignity which made the beholders shrink 
 aside with horror. 
 
 The people now began to replace the heavy 
 materials, and ere night the greater part of the folk 
 were withdrawn, ready to begin with the founda- 
 tions again on the morrow. 
 
 A sort of rude shelter was constructed, wherein 
 Uctred was to keep watch until daylight. 
 
 The morning came, calm and beautiful over the
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 139 
 
 grey hills ; and the anxious inhabitants, awake be- 
 times, each turned his first steps towards the river's 
 brink. With horror and amazement they again be- 
 held the ground bare. Not a vestige remained, nor 
 was there any trace of the boy. 
 
 " He is gone to his own," said they, as a general 
 shudder went through the crowd; 'and the fairies 
 have gotten him at last." 
 
 Every heart seemed quailing with some hidden 
 fear ; nor could any means at that moment be sug- 
 gested for their emancipation. 
 
 The stones and timber were again found, as be- 
 fore, on the opposite hill. Fifty stout men had with 
 difficulty contrived to fetch them from thence the 
 day preceding, and twice that number would hardly 
 have sufficed to transport them thither. It was not 
 to be gainsaid that a power superior to their own 
 had been at work. Some of the wiser and more 
 stout-hearted were chosen to carry these tidings to 
 the Thane, and hoped to clear themselves from the 
 ban by their honest discovery of what had befallen. 
 
 Gamel de Recedham, or Rochdale, had his dwell- 
 ing in the ancient castle built by the Romans on the 
 verge of a steep hill jutting into the valley of the 
 Roach. It was a place difficult of access, save on 
 the southern side, where a wide ditch formed an 
 effectual defence, and over which a narrow bridge 
 admitted only two abreast in front of the outer 
 gate. It was now, in some places, fast going to 
 decay, but enough' remained out of its vast bulk to 
 form a dwelling for the Saxon and his followers. 
 It had been once fortified throughout ; the castle, or 
 keep, being four-square, flanked at the corners with 
 stone towers. The lower part of the walls was
 
 140 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 composed of large pebbles mixed with brick, and 
 held together by a firm cement. Higher up, and 
 continued to the summit, were alternate rows of brick 
 and freestone. The corners were faced with stone, 
 making a very formidable appearance when guarded 
 by slingers and throwers of darts, who were stationed 
 there only in times of great peril. 
 
 Passing the vallum, or outer defence, they as- 
 cended a narrow staircase outside the keep, where 
 the cringing serfs were admitted by four of the lord's 
 Norman bowmen, who ushered them into the 
 audience-chamber. Some of the Thane's men were 
 habited in coats of mail, made of small pieces of 
 iron, cut round at the bottom, and set on a leathern 
 garment, so as to fold over each other like fish- 
 scales, the whole bending with the greatest ease, 
 and yet affording a sufficient protection to the 
 wearer. 
 
 The chamber of audience was situated at the 
 uppermost part of the keep, and great was the appre- 
 hension of the intruders whilst following their guides 
 through the winding passages and gloomy staircases 
 which they saw. The walls of this gloomy apart- 
 ment were lined with thin bricks, ornamentally dis- 
 posed in herring-bone work, after the fashion of the 
 time. The windows, though narrow on the outside, 
 were broad and arched within. Round the walls 
 were groups of weapons: two-edged broadswords, 
 long spears, some barbed, and others flat and broad ; 
 shields, the oldest of which were large, and had a 
 sharp point projecting from the centre, others of the 
 Norman and more recent fashion, smaller and of an 
 oval shape. Battle-axes, lances, and javelins were 
 strewn about in formidable profusion. Hauberks, or
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 141 
 
 chain-mail, hung at intervals from the walls, 
 looking grim and stalwart in their repose, like the 
 headless trunks of the warriors they had once encom- 
 passed. 
 
 A broad curtain, curiously embroidered, covered 
 one end of the room, from behind which crept a page 
 or henchman, in gay attire, his tunic glistening with 
 his lord's device. 
 
 The serfs bowed to this representative of their 
 lord. 
 
 " Tell thy master," said their spokesman, " that 
 some of the folk would speak with him, touching 
 the matter by which they are in jeopardy." 
 
 Smoothing his locks and trimming down his gar- 
 ments, the boy departed. It was long ere the 
 audience was granted ; in the meantime they stood 
 trembling for the result, for they knew the hasty 
 and impetuous temper of the Saxon. Suddenly was 
 heard the clanking of armour and the tramp of 
 mailed feet, announcing his approach; the heavy 
 arras was uplifted, and Gamel the Thane stood be- 
 fore them. He was richly attired in a loose coat 
 reaching down to his ankles ; over this was a long 
 robe, fastened over both shoulders and on the breast 
 with a silver buckle. The edges were trimmed with 
 gold and knots of flowers, interwoven with pearls 
 and rare stones. On his head he wore a coronet of 
 gold, enriched with jewels; and his bushy hair and 
 grizzled beard looked still more grim and forbidding 
 beneath these glittering ornaments. His eyes were 
 quick and piercing, his cheeks pale and slightly 
 furrowed. A narrow and retreating mouth, firmly 
 drawn in, showed his disposition to be fierce and 
 choleric, and his wrath not easily turned aside. He
 
 142 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 was accompanied by his billmen, together with some 
 half-dozen attendants, clad in shirts of chain-mail, 
 and helmets fitting close to the head. 
 
 The Thane's chief henchman occupied the post 
 of honour, whilst a little foot-page stood by his 
 master's elbow. 
 
 The villains prostrated themselves. 
 
 " How now! Where are the caitiffs I commanded 
 of ye? I vow ye shall swing from the tower in 
 their stead, should ye fail in that which I require at 
 your hands." 
 
 The trembling hearers were afraid to answer; 
 their lips quivered, and each tongue seemed to re- 
 fuse its office. Gamel proceeded: 
 
 "What! come ye to fawn and whine out my 
 purpose? Now will I make your chastisement ten 
 times hotter for this intent. Lodge these knaves, 
 Nicholas, i' the further dungeon, till they be re- 
 prieved by the rogues who are yet at large and 
 defying our power — they hold it somewhat cheap, 
 methinks." 
 
 Nicholas was herald, or chief crier, to the lord 
 of the manor, his office being to make proclamations 
 at the court and the cross, where the use of his 
 capacious lungs was oft in request. He was hang- 
 man, too, upon occasion, and was never so well 
 pleased as when employed in the due chastisement 
 of his master's lieges. He was, moreover, a man of 
 infinite humour, generally consoling his dear victims 
 under their visitations by some coarse and galling 
 jest. 
 
 " Now, Adam of Hunersfield, art thou at thy 
 prayers already? I'll shrive thee quick. Master, 
 shall I give the rogues any victuals? They'll not
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 143 
 
 keep else till hanging-time. Best finish now, need- 
 less to waste provender." 
 
 ' Give them the prison allowance. But, hark thee, 
 no stripes, Nicholas," said the chief. 
 
 "Eh!' replied he; "but black cake and dried 
 beans don't mix well i' the stomach without rid- 
 dling." 
 
 'Peace, sirrah!" replied the chieftain, with a 
 frown. Nicholas, though a licensed jester and in 
 especial favour, knew there was a bound beyond 
 which he durst not pass ; he became silent, there- 
 fore, at this command. The lamentations of the 
 unwary hostages were loud but unavailing. Nicholas 
 prepared his manacles, and was leading them from 
 the chamber when the page whispered in his master's 
 ear. 
 
 'Stop!" cried the Thane. "Know ye aught of 
 the boy who was a-watching yesternight?" 
 
 ' We know nothing of the lad, as we hope for 
 deliverance," said the terrified rustics. 
 " Bring in the woman ! " 
 
 The command was followed by the entrance of 
 Cicely. Leaning on her crutch, she bent lowly 
 before the chief. 
 
 ' Hast thou any suit or accusation to prefer against 
 these men as touching thy boy?" 
 
 "Oh, my lord!" said the dame, weeping, "I 
 never aforetime knew him missing, and he has slept 
 i' the Killer Dane, where the great battle was fought 
 below the castle; he has watched i' the ' Thrutch,' 
 where the black dog haunts from sunset to cock- 
 crow; he has leapt over the fairies' ring and run 
 through the old house at Gozlewood, and no harm 
 has befallen him ; but he is now ta'en from me — cast
 
 144 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 out, maybe, into some noisome pit. The timbers and 
 stones are leapt on to the hill again, but my boy is 
 not there ! " 
 
 She wept and wrung her withered hands. 
 
 " Hast thou any witness against these men?" 
 
 "Oh, my lord! they bribed me with their gifts 
 that I should suffer the boy to watch ; and I am 
 poor, and I thought he wore a charmed life, and the 
 little hoard would be a comfort and a stay in my old 
 age. 
 
 " Thou hast done wickedly in this," said the lord. 
 " Howbeit, I will keep them in the stocks; perad- 
 venture it may quicken the wits of their friends to 
 find out the mover of these scurvy pranks. The 
 post and timbers would not go uphill unless some 
 knave had holpen to lift them." 
 
 Nicholas was departing to his favourite pastime 
 when a loud hubbub was heard without, and presently 
 a fellow was pushed in by the pressure of the crowd 
 upon his shoulders ; but they drew back on seeing 
 their chief. 
 
 This man, known as " Barnulf with the nose," 
 was accounted the most notorious idler in the neigh- 
 bourhood. His eyes were red and swollen, and his 
 senses had become muddled and obtuse with long 
 steeping. 
 
 " Art thou again at thy freaks?/' said the Thane 
 angrily. " Thou hast soon forgotten the stocks and 
 the whipping-post on Easter Day. It were well that 
 Nicholas should refresh thy memory in this matter." 
 
 At this dreaded name the poor wretch fell on his 
 face. 
 
 " Please ye, my lord," said he, hardly raising his 
 head from the floor, " I am here but for a witness.
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 145 
 
 I am breeding of no broil, save an' my gossip o' 
 yesternight drew me into a tussle with old Split-Feet 
 and his company." 
 
 "What!" said Gamel hastily. "Think not to 
 foist thy fooleries upon me. Should I find thee 
 with a lie on thy tongue, the hide were as well off 
 thy shoulders. To thy speech — quick, what sawest 
 thou?." 
 
 ' I will give it all without a false word," said 
 the terrified supplicant, whose once fiery face was 
 now blanched, or rather dyed of a dull and various 
 blue. 
 
 1 I was wending home from Merland, where I had 
 been helping Dan, the smith, to his luckpenny, when, 
 as I took the path-road down yonder unlucky hill 
 to the ford, not thinking of the strange workmen that 
 had flown off with the church the night before, I was 
 whistling, or, it may hap, singing — or — or — I am not 
 just particular to know how it was, for the matter of 
 it; but at any rate I was getting up, having tumbled 
 down the steep almost nigh to the bottom, and I 
 thought my eyes had strucken fire, for I saw lights 
 frisking and frolicking up and down the hill. Then 
 I sat down to watch, and, sure enough, such a puck- 
 fisted rabble, without cloak or hosen, I never be- 
 held — all hurry-scurry up the hill, and some were on 
 the gallop down again. They were shouting, and 
 mocking, and laughing, like so many stark-mad 
 fools at a May feast. They strid twenty paces at a 
 jump, with burdens that two of the best oxen about 
 the manor had not shifted the length of my thumb- 
 nail. ' 'Tis some unlucky dream,' said I, rubbing 
 the corners of my eyes, and trying to pinch myself 
 awake. Just then I saw a crowd of the busiest of
 
 146 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 'em running up from the river, and making directly, 
 towards the steep bank below where I sat. ' My 
 friends ' — what should ail me to talk to 'em I cannot 
 tell — ' My friends, but ye seem to have more work 
 in your hands than wit in your noddles; ye might 
 have spared yourselves the labour, I trow.' With 
 that the whole rout turned upon me with a shout and 
 a chattering that would have dumbfoundered the 
 shrillest tongue in the whole hundred — the mill-wheel 
 was nothing to it. I would have escaped, but my 
 feet were hoi den like as they had been i' the stocks. 
 One, the foremost of the crew — I do think he had a 
 long tail and gaping hoofs, but I was over-frightened 
 to see very clear — came with a malicious grin, his 
 tongue lolling out, and his eyes glaring. 
 
 " ' Pray, good friend,' said he, pulling off a little 
 black bonnet, ' be compassionate enough to help us 
 with our load to the hill-top.' Now was I terrified 
 beyond measure, insomuch that I made a desperate 
 tug, thereby loosening myself. I ran like the wind. 
 I jumped into the river, in my hurry having missed 
 the ford, and I heard 'em still shouting, and, as I 
 thought, pursuing me; but when Biddy opened the 
 door in the morning I lay there in a great swoon, 
 with my head bruised, and a hole in my good grey 
 cloak." 
 
 " And so thou comest here a-boasting of thy 
 drunken discoveries," said the Thane. " A spice of 
 old Nicholas' vocation may not be amiss; yet, by 
 way of relish' to thy tale " 
 
 The agony of the culprit was appalling, but the 
 chief was inexorable, until his denunciations were 
 interrupted by a stranger, who craved a short respite 
 for the groaning supplicant.
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 147 
 
 He was meanly clad : a coarse cloak, stained and 
 threadbare, was thrown open, showing a close habit 
 of ordinary fabric; yet a natural and graceful bear- 
 ing gave a dignity even to his poor and worthless 
 habiliments. 
 
 " I am a stranger, and sore oppressed with long 
 travel. Penury and misfortune have been my lot, 
 and I am driven from place to place without a home 
 or a morsel of bread. Last night, long after the 
 curfew, I came hither, but no hospice or religious 
 house being near, I sat down by the hill-side yonder, 
 until morning should enable me to crave help for my 
 journey. The morning had not dawned ere I awoke 
 — a loud trampling, and a rush of many voices had 
 broken in upon my slumbers. I beheld crowds of 
 strange-looking men, laden with terrific burdens. 
 They seemed to be eagerly and earnestly at work, 
 under heavier loads than I thought mortal man could 
 sustain ; the whole space too, as far as the eye might 
 carry, seemed alive with them, the flickering of 
 their torches forming a scene of almost unimaginable 
 splendour. Right before me were a number of these 
 labourers, hauling up a heavy beam from the river; 
 others were apparently crossing, laden with materials 
 no less bulky and iritractable. All were in motion,, 
 wriggling along like so many ants on a hillock. The 
 party just before me stayed immediately below where 
 I sat, watching their proceedings with no little curi- 
 osity and amazement. They threw down their load 
 -then pausing, appeared to view with some hesita- 
 tion the steep bank above them. The foremost of 
 the group now came softly towards me. Pulling off. 
 his bonnet, with a grave and beseeching aspect, he 
 craved help to accomplish the ascent. Not then
 
 i 4 8 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 dreaming of goblins and their deceitful glamour, I 
 put my shoulder to the work with a right good will ; 
 and truly it were a marvel to watch the tough beam, 
 how it seemed to obey the impulse. I worked with 
 all the might I could muster, but it appeared as 
 though little were needful ; and in a trice we scram- 
 bled to the top, when the whole party scampered off, 
 leaving me to follow or not, as I chose. I saw 
 something tossed towards me, which glistened as it 
 lay at my feet. Stooping, I found a silver ring, 
 beauteously bedecked with' one glowing crystal. 
 Round the rim is formed a quaint legend, which 
 some learned clerk may perchance decipher." 
 
 The stranger drew from his finger a massive ring. 
 A little keen-eyed monk, a transcriber of saints' 
 legends and Saxon chronicles, was immediately 
 called. He pronounced the writing heathenish, and 
 of the Runic form. A free translation may be given 
 as follows : 
 
 " The Norman shall tread on the Saxon's heel, 
 And the stranger shall rule o'er England's weal ; 
 Through castle and hall, by night or by day, 
 The stranger shall thrive for ever and aye ; 
 
 But in Rached, above the rest, 
 
 The stranger shall thrive best." 
 
 Gamel was troubled and perplexed. The words 
 were prophetic, evidently pointing to his own and 
 his country's fate, as well as to the destiny of the 
 stranger. He appeared loath to allow of a super- 
 natural agency in the affair, and yet the testimony 
 and its witness were not to be gainsaid. 
 
 I had not believed the tale, stranger, if this 
 token had not confirmed thy speech. That ill- 
 omened rascal may depart. See thou fall not hastily
 
 THE GOBLIN BUILDERS 149 
 
 into the like offence, else shalt thou smart from 
 Childermas to All-hallowtide. Hence 1 to thy place." 
 Barnulf awaited not further dismissal, glad to escape 
 the scrutiny of Nicholas with a whole skin. 
 
 A loud shriek was heard from the courtyard. 
 1 My boy ! Oh, my boy ! " cried the almost frantic 
 mother, as she rushed into the chamber, leading in 
 Uctred. The urchin looked as malicious and fro- 
 ward as ever, even when standing before his chief. 
 'And where hast thou been, my pretty bird?" 
 said the old woman, as she began her vocabulary 
 of signs. But the boy looked surly and would not 
 answer to the signal ; he drew down his black 
 swarthy brows, looking eagerly and fiercely from 
 behind their bushy curtains. Suddenly, and with a 
 fearful yell, he sprang forward, snatching the ring 
 which Gamel was then giving back to the stranger. 
 With a wild and hideous laugh, which sent a shudder 
 through the assembly, he drew it on his finger. At 
 this moment the expression of his countenance began 
 to change, and some of the bystanders, over whom 
 fear had probably waved the wand of the enchanter, 
 saw his form dilate, and his whole figure expand into 
 almost gigantic proportions. A thick haze rolled 
 through the apartment ; then was heard a wild un- 
 earthly shout, and the vision had disappeared. 
 
 " Seize him! " cried Gamel. 
 
 The guards, trembling, prepared to execute this 
 command, but when they gained the outworks of the 
 castle they could descry no vestige of his appearance, 
 save a slight whirlwind of dust, like a mist-wreath, 
 curling down the valley, which, to their terrified 
 apprehensions, became the chariot of the departing 
 demon. Nothing could shake this belief; and in
 
 150 LANCASHIRE LEGENDS 
 
 after ages the boy was spoken of as a changeling, 
 left by some fairy, whose appointed sojourn had been 
 then accomplished, the means for his release being 
 fulfilled. Old Cicely became nigh crazed with the 
 loss of her son; but Gamel, seriously pondering on 
 these events, sought counsel from the Church. It 
 was resolved that the intended site should be aban- 
 doned. The Chapel of St. Chad was accordingly 
 built on the hill-top, where the church now stands, 
 and whither the foundations had been so marvel- 
 lously conveyed. One hundred and twenty-four steps 
 were dug to accomplish the ascent, and enable the 
 good people to go to prayers. 
 
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