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 Popular Books of the Middle Ages. Tales of Enchantment 
 from all Lands.
 
 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE.
 
 GOBLIN TALES 
 
 OF LANCASHIRE 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES BOWKER, F.R.G.S.I. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'PHCEBE CAREW, A NORTH COAST STORY, 
 'NAT HOLT'S FORTUNE,' ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM DRAWINGS 
 BY THE LATE CHARLES GLIDD&N. 
 
 ' Of Faery-land yet if he more enquire, 
 By certain signes here sett in sondrie place, 
 He may itt fynd.' SPENSER 
 
 La veuve du meme Plogojovits declara que son mari depuis 
 sa mort lui etait venu demander des souliers.' 
 
 CALMET, Trait/ sur Us Apparitions, 1751 
 
 Mention 
 
 W. SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO. 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW
 
 Blf 
 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MOST NOBLE 
 
 THE MARQUIS OF HARTINGTON, P.C., D.C.L. 
 THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS DEDICATED 
 
 IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF 
 MUCH KINDNESS. 
 
 545048
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 i.- 
 ii.- 
 IIL- 
 
 IV.- 
 
 v.- 
 
 VI.- 
 
 VII.- 
 
 VIII.- 
 
 IX.- 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 THE SKRIKER, .... 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST, 
 THE FAIRY'S SPADE, 
 THE KING OF THE FAIRIES, 
 MOTHER AND CHILD, . 
 THE SPECTRAL CAT, 
 THE CAPTURED FAIRIES, 
 THE PILLION LADY, 
 -THE FAIRY FUNERAL, . 
 -THE CHIVALROUS DEVIL, . 
 -THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN, 
 -THE SANDS OF COCKER, 
 THE SILVER TOKEN, 
 THE HEADLESS WOMAN, 
 
 27- 
 
 37 
 5 
 5 2 ' 
 
 77 
 83 
 97~ 
 104 
 
 I2O 
 129
 
 12 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 XV. THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM, 
 
 XVI. THE WHITE DOBBIE, 
 
 XVII. THE LITTLE MAN'S GIFT, . 
 
 XVIIL SATAN'S SUPPER, . . . 
 
 XIX. THE EARTHENWARE GOOSE, 
 
 XX. THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL, 
 XXL ALLHALLOW'S NIGHT, . 
 XXIL THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL, 
 XXIIL THE CRIER OF CLAIFE, 
 XXIV. THE DEMON OF THE OAK, . 
 XXV. THE BLACK COCK, . 
 XXVI. THE INVISIBLE BURDEN, . 
 
 APPENDIX. COMPARATIVE NOTES,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 OR many of the superstitions which 
 still cling to him the Lancashire 
 man of the present day is indebted to 
 his Celtic and Scandinavian ancestors. From 
 them the Horse and Worm stories, and the 
 Giant lore of the northern and southern moun- 
 tains and fells, have come down, while the 
 relationship of the 'Jinny Greenteeth,' the 
 presiding nymph of the ponds and streams, 
 with allusions to whom the Lancastrian mother 
 strives to deter her little ones from venturing 
 near the pits and brooks ; to the water-spirits 
 of the Gothic mythology, is too evident to 
 admit of any doubt. The source of the 
 ' Gabriel Ratchets,' the hell-hounds whose fear- 
 inspiring yelps still are heard by the benighted 
 peasant, who finds in the dread sound a warn- 
 ing of the approach of the angel of death ; in 
 the Norse Aasgaardsveia, the souls condemned
 
 14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to ride about the world until doomsday, and 
 who gallop through the midnight storm with 
 shrieks and cries which ring over the lonely 
 moors ; or in that other troop of souls of the 
 brave ones who had died in battle, being led 
 by the storm-god Woden to Walhalla, also is 
 undeniable. 
 
 Striking, however, as are the points of simili- 
 tude between some of the Lancastrian traditions 
 and those of the north of Europe, others seem 
 to be peculiar to the county, and that these are 
 of a darker and gloomier cast than are the 
 superstitions of districts less wild and moun- 
 tainous, and away from the weird influence of 
 the sea, with its winter thunderings suggestive 
 of hidden and awful power, may in a great 
 measure be correctly attributed to the nature of 
 the scenery. 
 
 It is easy to understand how the unlettered 
 peasant would people with beings of another 
 world either the bleak fells, the deep and 
 gloomy gorges, the wild cloughs, the desolate 
 moorland wastes two or three thousand feet 
 above the level of the sea, of the eastern portion 
 of the county ; or the salt marshes where the 
 breeze- bent and mysterious-looking trees waved
 
 INTRODUCTION. 1 5 
 
 their spectral boughs in the wind ; the dark 
 pools fringed with reeds, amid which the ' Peg- 
 o'-Lantron' flickered and danced, and over 
 which came the hollow cry of the bittern and 
 the child-like plaint of the plover ; and the 
 dreary glens, dark lakes, and long stretches of 
 sand of the north and west. 
 
 To him the forest, with its solemn Rem- 
 brandtesque gloom, 
 
 Where Druids erst heard victims groan, 
 
 the lonely fir-crowned pikes, and the mist- 
 shrouded mountains, would seem fitting homes 
 for the dread shapes whose spite ended itself 
 in the misfortunes and misery of humanity. 
 Pregnant with mystery to such a mind would 
 be the huge fells, with their shifting ' neetcaps' 
 of cloud, the towering bluffs, the swampy moors, 
 and trackless morasses, across which the set- 
 ting sun cast floods of blood-red light ; and 
 irresistible would be the influence of such 
 scenery upon the lonely labourer who would 
 go about his daily tasks with a feeling that he 
 was surrounded by the supernatural. 
 
 And wild as are many parts of the county 
 to-day, it is difficult to conceive its condition a 
 century or two ago, when much of the land was
 
 1 6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 not only uncultivated, but was, for at least a 
 portion of the year, covered by sheets of water, 
 the highways being little more than bridle 
 roads, or, if wider than usual, very sloughs of 
 despond, the carts in several of the rural dis- 
 tricts being laid aside in winter as utterly use- 
 less, and grain and other commodities, even in 
 summer time, being conveyed from place to 
 place on the backs of long strings of pack- 
 horses. 
 
 Living in lonely houses and cottages shut 
 out from civilisation by the difficulties of com- 
 munication, and hemmed in by floating mists 
 and by much that was awe-inspiring, with in 
 winter additional barriers of storm, snow and 
 'flood, it is easy to imagine how in the fancy of 
 the yeoman, shepherd, farmer, or solitary lime 
 burner, as ' th' edge o' dark* threw its weird 
 glamour over the scene, boggarts and phantoms 
 would begin to creep about to the music of 
 the unearthly voices heard in every sough and 
 sigh of the wandering wind as it wailed around 
 the isolated dwellings. 
 
 In everything weird they found a message 
 from the unknown realms of death. The noise 
 of the swollen waters of the Ribble or the Lune,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 1 7 
 
 or the many smaller streams hurrying down to 
 the sea, was to them the voice of the Water 
 Spirit calling for its victim, and the howling of 
 their dogs bade the sick prepare to meet ' the 
 shadow with the keys/ All around them were 
 invisible beings harmful or mischievous, and to 
 them they traced much of the misfortune which 
 followed the stern working of nature's laws. 
 
 The superstitions which date from, as well as 
 the actual annals of the Witch Mania in Lanca- 
 shire, in some slight degree confirm this theory, 
 for whereas in the flat and more thickly-popu- 
 lated districts the hag contented herself with 
 stealing milk from her neighbour's cows, spoil- 
 ing their bakings, and other practical jokes of a 
 comparatively harmless kind, in the wilder locali- 
 ties the region of pathless moors and mist- 
 encircled mountains the witch ever was rais- 
 ing terrible storms, bringing down the thunder, 
 killing the cattle, dealing out plagues and pesti- 
 lence at will, wreaking evil of every conceivable 
 kind upon man and beast, and, hot from her 
 sabbath of devil-worship, even casting the 
 sombre shadows and dread darkness of death 
 over the households of those who had fallen 
 under the ban of her hate.
 
 1 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Lancashire has, however, an extensive ghost 
 lore to which this theory has no reference, con- 
 sisting as it does of stories of haunted houses 
 and churchyards, indelible blood-stains, and all 
 the paraphernalia of the 
 
 Shapes that walk 
 
 At dead of night, and clank their chains and wave 
 The torch of hell around the murderer's bed. 
 
 The sketch in this volume, ' Mother and 
 Child,' for the skeleton of which tradition I am 
 indebted to the late Mr. J. Stanyan Bigg, may 
 be considered a fair specimen of these stories. 
 In most cases these legends are not simply the 
 vain creations of ignorance and darkness, al- 
 though they fade before the light of knowledge 
 like mists before the sun, for under many of 
 them may be found a moral and a warning, or 
 a testimony to the beauty of goodness, hidden 
 it is true beneath the covering of a rude fable, 
 just as inscriptions rest concealed below the 
 moss of graveyards. The well-known legend 
 of the Boggart of Townley Hall, with its warn- 
 ing cry of ' Lay out, lay out !' and its demand 
 for a victim every seventh year, is a striking 
 example of traditions of this class emphatic 
 protests against wrong, uttered in the form of
 
 INTRODUCTION. 1 9 
 
 a nerve-affecting fable. In more than one of 
 the stories of this kind to which I have listened, 
 the ghost of the victim has re- visited ' the pale 
 glimpses of the moon,' and made night so 
 hideous to the wrong-doer, that, in despair and 
 remorse, he has put an end to himself; and 
 trivial as these things may seem to Mr. Grad- 
 grind and his school, they have, like other and 
 nobler parables, influenced minds impervious 
 to dry fact. 
 
 To the devil lore of the county, however, the 
 theory certainly will apply, for surely it is in a 
 gloomy gorge, through which forked lightnings 
 flash and chase each other, and the thunder rolls 
 and reverberates, or on a dark and lonesome 
 moor, rather than upon the shady side of Pall 
 Mall, one would expect to meet the Evil One. 
 
 Yet, undoubtedly, other causes contributed to 
 enrich the store of tales of fiends with which 
 the county abounds. 
 
 In Lancashire many of the old customs, even 
 such as the riding of the wooden Christ on 
 Palm Sunday, continued to be kept up at a 
 later period than was the case in other parts 
 of England ; and, notwithstanding the prohibi- 
 tory edicts of the commissioners appointed by
 
 20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, Miracle Plays and Moralities 
 doubtless were performed there even during 
 the early part of the reign of James i., for the 
 Reformation, rapidly as its principles took root 
 and spread in other parts of the country, did 
 not make rapid headway in Lancashire, where 
 great numbers of the people remained true to 
 the faith of their forefathers. In fact, in many 
 parishes, long after the Church of England 
 had been by law established, Catholic priests 
 continued to be the only officiating ministers. 
 Probably the people loved their church not 
 only on account of its doctrines, of which it 
 may be presumed most of them knew but little, 
 and of its impressive ceremonies, but also be- 
 cause of its recognition of the holy days and 
 fair days, wakes, and games it was powerless 
 to suppress ; and perhaps of all the amusements 
 thus winked at or even patronised by the 
 church, that of dramatic representations, rude 
 and grotesque as they undoubtedly were, was 
 the most important. In many places the mem- 
 bers of the various guilds and brotherhoods 
 were the performers, but in the majority of 
 cases the entertainments were given by the 
 priests and other ecclesiastical functionaries.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 2 1 
 
 What part the Devil played in these amuse- 
 ments is well known to the antiquary, the old 
 accounts containing particulars of the expendi- 
 ture upon not only hair for the Evil One's wig, 
 but also for canvas, of which to construct black 
 shirts for the Satanic tag-rag, or, as the old 
 scribes plainly put it, 'for the damned.' It is 
 evident from the old records that Satan left the 
 hands of his dresser an object compared with 
 which the most hideous jack-in-the-box of the 
 modern toy shop would be a vision of loveli- 
 ness ; and, as his chief occupations were those 
 of roaring and yelling, and of suffering all sorts 
 of indignities at the hands of the Vice, as does 
 the pantaloon at the hands of the clown in a 
 pantomime of to-day, it is easy to see that his 
 rdle was not a very dignified one. Every- 
 where the stage devil was simply the stage 
 fool. Even in France, where the drama ever 
 has been submitted to precise rules, 'there 
 was,' as Albert Reville has remarked (Histoire 
 du Diable, ses origines, sa grandeur et sa decad- 
 ence. Strasbourg: 1870), 'a class of popular 
 pieces called devilries (diableries), gross and 
 often obscene masquerades, in which at least 
 four devils took part. ... In Germany also
 
 22 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the devil was diverting on the stage. There 
 exists an old Saxon Mystery of the Passion, 
 in which Satan repeats, like a mocking echo, 
 the last words of Judas who hangs himself; 
 and when, in accordance with the sacred tradi- 
 tion, the traitor's bowels fall asunder, the Evil 
 One gathers them into a basket, and, as he 
 carries them away, sings a little melody appro- 
 priate to the occasion.' Undoubtedly these 
 misrepresentations of the apostate angel helped 
 to familiarise the popular mind with the idea of 
 a personal devil going about veritably seeking 
 whom he might devour ; and although, when 
 with the crowd in the presence of the Thespian 
 ecclesiastics, people might feel quite at home 
 with, and really enjoy, the company of the Evil 
 One, away again on the dreary moor, or in the 
 lonely hillside cottage, with the night wind 
 howling at the door, fear would resume its 
 wonted supremacy, and the feeling would be 
 deepened and intensified by the memory of the 
 horrid appearance of the stage Satan. 
 
 It is possible that in a great measure we owe 
 to these performances the somewhat mono- 
 tonous frequency with which, in the purely 
 local Lancashire devil stories, the Evil One,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 who generally in the most stupid manner 
 permits himself to be overreached, comes oft 
 second best, for doubtless many of the tradi- 
 tions were moulded in accordance with the lot 
 of Satan in the miracle plays, as, in their turn, 
 these were, although perhaps indirectly, based 
 upon the teachings of the church, and that, in 
 its turn, upon the writings of the Fathers, some 
 of whom, and notably Origen, did not hesitate 
 to speak of the Redemption even as due in 
 no small degree to Satanic stupidity, a view so 
 lastingly predominant in the Church that as 
 Reville has said, 'la poesie ecclesiastique, la 
 predication populaire, des enseignements pon- 
 tificaux meme le repandirent, le dramatiserent, 
 le consacrerent partout.' 
 
 An interesting chapter in the history of reli- 
 gious beliefs might be written upon the views 
 of the early Fathers with reference to Satan 
 and his legion, and the student is not inclined 
 to be quite so severe upon the superstitions 01 
 the unlettered peasant when he finds Jerome 
 recording it as the opinion of all the doctors 
 in the church, that the air between heaven and 
 earth is filled with Evil Spirits, and Augustine 
 and others stating that the devils had fallen
 
 24 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 there from a higher and purer region of the air. 
 The early Christian Church too had its order 
 of Exorcists, who had care of those possessed 
 by Evil Spirits, the energumeni, and the Bishops, 
 departing from the original idea that laymen 
 had the power of exorcism, ordained men to 
 the office and called upon them to exercise 
 their functions even before the rite of baptism, 
 to deliver the candidates ' from the dominion 
 of the power of darkness.' 
 
 Of the lighter superstitions in Lancashire, 
 that of belief in fairies appears to be almost 
 extinct, and it is to be lamented that forty years 
 ago folk lore was considered of so little import- 
 ance, for the slight and vague references in a 
 rare little ' History of Blackpool/ by the Rev. 
 W. Thornber, upon two of which the sketches 
 entitled ' The Silver Token,' and ' The Fairy's 
 Spade' are founded, show that the task of 
 gathering a goodly store of such vestiges of 
 ancient faiths would at the time when that 
 volume was written have been a comparatively 
 easy one. To-day, however, the case is dif- 
 ferent. Even my friend, the late Mr. John 
 Higson, of Lees, to whose kindness I owe the 
 tradition upon which the story of ' The King 
 of the Fairies' is based, and whose labours in
 
 INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 out-of-the-way paths dear to antiquaries were 
 for some years as untiring as successful and 
 praiseworthy, was not able to gather much 
 bearing upon the fairy mythology of the Lanca- 
 shire people. 
 
 Most of the fairy and folk stories it was my 
 good fortune to hear in the county and moor- 
 land districts were of a conventional kind, 
 lubber fiends, death warnings, fairy ointment, 
 and fairy money being as plentiful as diamonds 
 in Eastern tales, and for that reason it was not 
 thought necessary to reproduce them in this 
 volume. 
 
 The darker forms of superstition, like lower 
 organisms, are more tenacious of life, and in 
 many a retired nook of Lancashire there still 
 may be found small congregations of believers 
 in all the mystic lore of devildom and witch- 
 craft. Readers of Mr. Edwin Waugh's ex- 
 quisite sketches of north country life will at 
 once call to mind, in the ' Grave of the Grisel- 
 hurst Boggart,' an illustration of that dim fear 
 of the supernatural which is yet so all-powerful, 
 while the valuable collection of Folk Lore from 
 the pens of the late Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. John 
 Harland is full of testimony to the vitality of 
 many of these offshoots from old-world creeds.
 
 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 TH' SKRIKER (SHRIEKER). 
 
 a fine night, about the middle of 
 December, many years ago, a sturdy- 
 looking young fellow left Chipping 
 for his cottage, three or four miles away, upon 
 the banks of the Hodder. The ground was 
 covered with snow, which in many places had 
 drifted into heaps, and the keen frost had made 
 the road so slippery that the progress he made 
 was but slow. Nature looked very beautiful, 
 and the heart of the rustic even was touched 
 by the sweet peacefulness of the scene. The 
 noble old Parlick, and the sweeping Longridge, 
 with its fir-crowned Thornley Height and 
 Kemple End, stood out boldly against the 
 clear sky, and the moon shed her soft silvery
 
 28 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 light into the long silent valley, stretching 
 away until its virgin paleness mingled with the 
 shadows and the darkness of the distant fells 
 beyond Whitewell. 
 
 All was still, save when the sighing wind 
 rustled gently through the frosted branches of 
 the leafless trees by the roadside, and shook 
 down upon the wayfarer a miniature shower of 
 snow ; for even the tiny stream, so full of mirth 
 and music in the summer time, had been lulled 
 to sleep by the genius of winter ; and the 
 cottagers, whose little houses, half-hidden by 
 the rime, seemed hardly large enough for the 
 dwellings of dwarfs, had been snugly sleeping 
 for hours. 
 
 Adam was by no means a timid or nervous 
 being, but there was a nameless something in 
 the deathly silence which oppressed, if it did 
 not actually frighten, him ; and although he 
 sang aloud a verse of the last song he had 
 heard before he left the kitchen of the Patten 
 Arms, his voice had lost its heartiness. He 
 earnestly wished himself safely across the little 
 bridge over the brook ; but he was yet some 
 distance from the stream when the faint chimes 
 of midnight fell upon the air. Almost imme-
 
 THE SHRIEKER. 2 9 
 
 diately after the last stroke of twelve had 
 broken the silence a cloud passed over the face 
 of the moon, and comparative darkness envel- 
 oped the scene ; the wind, which before had 
 been gentle and almost noiseless, began to howl 
 amid the boughs and branches of the waving 
 trees, and the frozen snow from the hedgerows 
 was dashed against the wayfarer's face. 
 
 He had already begun to fancy that he could 
 distinguish in the soughing of the wind and 
 the creaking of the boughs unearthly cries and 
 fiendish shouts of glee ; but as he approached 
 the dreaded stream his courage almost entirely 
 failed him, and it required a great effort to 
 keep from turning his back to it, and running 
 away in the direction of the little village at the 
 foot of Parlick. It struck him, however, that 
 he had come a long distance ; that if he 
 did go back to the Patten Arms the company 
 would be dispersed, and the inmates asleep, 
 and, what was more effective than all, that it 
 he could only cross the bridge he would be 
 safe, the Greenies, Boggarts, and Feorin not 
 having power over any one who had passed 
 over the water. Influenced by this thought, 
 yet with his knees trembling under him, he
 
 30 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 pushed forward with assumed boldness, and he 
 had almost reached the bridge when he heard 
 the noise of passing feet in the crunching snow, 
 and became conscious of the presence of a 
 ghastly thing he was unable to see. Suddenly 
 a sepulchral howl brought him to a stop, and, 
 with his heart throbbing loudly enough to be 
 heard, he stood gazing fixedly into the dark- 
 ness. There was nothing to be perceived, 
 however, save the copings of the bridge, with 
 their coverings of rime ; and he might have 
 stood there until daylight had not another cry, 
 louder and even more unearthly and horrible 
 than the preceding one, called him from his 
 trance. No sooner had this second scream 
 died away than, impelled by an irresistible 
 impulse, he stepped forward in the direction 
 whence the noise had come. At this moment 
 the moon burst forth from behind the clouds 
 which had for some time obscured her light, 
 and her rays fell upon the road, with its half- 
 hidden cart-tracks winding away into the dim 
 distance ; and in the very centre of the 
 bridge he beheld a hideous figure with black 
 shaggy hide, and huge eyes closely resembling 
 orbs of fire.
 
 THE SHRIEKER. 3 I 
 
 Adam at once knew from the likeness the 
 dread object bore to the figure he had heard 
 described by those who had seen the Skriker, 
 that the terrible thing before him was an Am- 
 bassador of Death. 
 
 Without any consciousness of what he was 
 doing, and acting as though under the sway of' 
 a strange and irresistible mesmeric influence, 
 he stepped towards the bridge ; but no sooner 
 did he stir than the frightful thing in front of 
 him, with a motion that was not walking, but 
 rather a sort of heavy gliding, moved also, 
 slowly retreating, pausing when he paused, and 
 always keeping its fiery eyes fixed upon his 
 blanched face. Slowly he crossed the stream, 
 but gradually his steps grew more and more 
 rapid, until he broke into a run. Suddenly a 
 faint knowledge of the horrible nature of his 
 position dawned upon him. A little cottage 
 stood by the roadside, and from one of its 
 chamber-windows, so near to the ground as to 
 be within his reach, a dim light shone, the room 
 probably being occupied by a sick person, or 
 by watchers of the dead. Influenced by a 
 sudden feeling of companionship, Adam tried 
 to cry out, but his tongue clave to his parched
 
 32 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 mouth, and ere he could mumble a few inar- 
 ticulate sounds, scarcely audible to himself, the 
 dwelling was left far behind, and a sensation 
 of utter loneliness and helplessness again took 
 possession of him. 
 
 He had thus traversed more than a mile of 
 the road, in some parts of which, shaded by the 
 high hedgerows and overhanging boughs, the 
 only light seemed to him to be that from the 
 terrible eyes, when suddenly he stumbled over 
 a stone and fell. In a second, impressed by a 
 fear that the ghastly object would seize him, he 
 regained his feet, and, to his intense relief, the 
 Skriker was no longer visible. With a sigh of 
 pleasure he sat down upon a heap of broken 
 stones, for his limbs, no longer forced into 
 mechanical movement by the influence of the 
 spectre's presence, refused to bear him further. 
 Bitterly cold as was the night, the perspiration 
 stood in beads upon his whitened face, and, 
 with the recollection of the Skriker's terrible 
 eyes and horrible body strong upon him, he 
 shook and shivered, as though in a fit of the 
 ague. A strong and burly man, in the very 
 prime of life, he felt as weak as a girl, and, 
 fearing that he was about to sink to the ground
 
 THE SHRIEKER. 33 
 
 in a swoon, he took handfuls of the crisp snow 
 and rubbed them upon his forehead. Under 
 this sharp treatment he soon revived a little, 
 and, after several unsuccessful efforts, he suc- 
 ceeded in regaining his feet, and resumed his 
 lonely journey. 
 
 Starting at the least sough of the breeze, the 
 faintest creak of a bending branch, or the fall 
 of a piece of frozen rime from a bough, he 
 slowly trudged along. 
 
 He had passed the quaint old house at 
 Chaigely, the sudden yelp of a chained dog in 
 the court-yard giving him a thrill of horror as 
 he went by, and he had reached the bend in 
 that part of the road which is opposite the 
 towering wood-covered Kemple End. A keen 
 and cutting blast swept through the black firs 
 that crowned the summit, and stood, like solemn 
 sentinels, upon the declivity. There was a 
 music in the wind mournful as a croon over the 
 corpse of a beautiful woman, whose hair still 
 shimmers with the golden light of life ; but 
 Adam heard no melody in the moaning sighs 
 which seemed to fill the air around. To him, 
 whose soul was yet under the influence of the 
 terror through which he had so recently passed,
 
 34 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 the sounds assumed an awful nature ; whilst 
 the firs, standing so clearly defined against the 
 snow, which lay in virgin heaps upon the beds 
 of withered fern, seemed like so many weird 
 skeletons shaking their bony arms in menace 
 or in warning. 
 
 With a suddenness that was more than start- 
 ling, there was a lull, and the breeze ceased 
 even to whisper. The silence was more pain- 
 ful than were the noises of the blast battling 
 with the branches, for it filled the breast of the 
 solitary wayfarer with forebodings of coming 
 woe. At the point he had reached the road 
 sank, and as Adam stepped into the almost 
 utter darkness, caused by the high banks, to 
 which clung masses of decayed vegetation, 
 beautified by the genius of winter into white 
 festoons, again and again the terrible shriek 
 rang out. 
 
 There was no mistaking the voice of the 
 Skriker for that of anything else upon earth, 
 and, with a sickly feeling at his heart, Adam 
 slowly emerged from the gloom, and, in expecta- 
 tion of the appearance of the ghastly figure, 
 passed on. He had not to wait long, for as he 
 reached the old bridge spanning the H odder,
 
 THE SHRIEKER. 35 
 
 once more he saw, in the centre of the road, 
 about midway of the stream, the same terrible 
 object he had followed along the lane from the 
 brook at Thornley. 
 
 With a sensation of terror somewhat less 
 intense than that which had previously influ- 
 enced him, he again yielded to the power 
 which impelled him forward, and once more 
 the strange procession commenced, the Skriker 
 gliding over the snow, not, however, without 
 a peculiar shuffling of its feet, surrounded, as 
 they were, by masses of long hair, which clung 
 to them, and deadened the sound, and Adam 
 following in his mechanical and involuntary 
 trot. The journey this time, however, was of 
 but short duration, for the poor fellow's cottage 
 was only a little way from the river. The 
 distance was soon traversed, and the Skriker, 
 with its face towards the terrified man, took up 
 its position against the door of the dwelling. 
 Adam could not resist the attraction which 
 drew him to the ghastly thing, and as he neared 
 it, in a fit of wild de speration, he struck at it, 
 but his hand banged against the oak of the 
 door, and, as the spectre splashed away, he fell 
 forward in a swoon.
 
 36 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 Disturbed by the noise of the fall, the good- 
 wife arose and drew him into the cottage, but 
 for some hours he was unable to tell the story 
 of his terrible journey. When he had told of 
 his involuntary chase of the Skriker, a deep 
 gloom fell over the woman's features, for she 
 well knew what the ghastly visit portended to 
 their little household. The dread uncertainty- 
 did not continue long, however, for on the third 
 day from that upon which Adam had reached 
 his home the eldest lad was brought home 
 drowned ; and after attending the child's funeral, 
 Adam's wife sickened of a fever, and within a 
 few weeks she too was carried to Mytton church- 
 yard. These things, together with the dreadful 
 experience of the journey from Chipping, so 
 affected Adam that he lost his reason, and for 
 years afterwards the sound of his pattering 
 footsteps, as in harmless idiotcy, with wild eyes 
 and outstretched hands, he trotted along the 
 roads in chase of an imaginary Boggart, fell 
 with mournful impressiveness upon the ears of 
 groups gathered by farm-house fires to listen 
 to stories of the Skriker. 1
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 
 
 [N a little lane leading from the town of 
 Clitheroe there once lived a noted 
 ' cunning man/ to whom all sorts of 
 applications were made, not only by the resi- 
 dents, but also by people from distant places, 
 for the fame of the wizard had spread over the 
 whole country side. If a theft was committed, 
 at once the services of ' Owd Jeremy' were 
 enlisted, and, as a result, some one entirely 
 innocent was, if not accused, at least suspected ; 
 while maidens and young men, anxious to pry 
 into futurity, and behold the faces of their 
 unknown admirers, paid him trifling fees to 
 enable them to gratify their curiosity. In short, 
 Jeremy professed to be an able student of the 
 Black Art, on familiar speaking terms with 
 Satan, and duly qualified to foretell men's 
 destinies by the aid of the stars. 
 
 v
 
 38 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 The cottage in which the old man resided 
 was of a mean order, and its outward appear- 
 ance was by no means likely to impress visitors 
 with an idea that great pecuniary advantages 
 had followed that personal acquaintance with 
 the Evil One of which the wizard boasted. If, 
 however, the outside was mean and shabby, the 
 inside of the dwelling was of a nature better 
 calculated to inspire inquirers with feelings of 
 awe, hung round, as the one chamber was, with 
 faded and moth-eaten black cloth, upon which 
 grotesque astrological designs and the figure 
 of a huge dragon were worked in flaming 
 red. The window being hidden by the dingy 
 tapestry, the only light in the room came from 
 a starved-looking candle, which was fixed in 
 the foot of the skeleton of a child, attached to 
 a string from the ceiling, and dangling just 
 over the table, where a ponderous volume lay 
 open before a large crystal globe and two 
 skulls. 
 
 In an old-fashioned chair, above which hung 
 suspended a dirty and dilapidated crocodile, 
 the wizard sat, and gave audience to the stray 
 visitors whose desire to peer into futurity over- 
 mastered the fear with which the lonely cottage
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 39 
 
 was regarded. A quaint-looking old man was 
 Jeremy, with his hungry-looking eyes and long 
 white beard ; and, as with bony fingers he 
 turned over the leaves of the large book, there 
 was much in his appearance likely to give 
 the superstitious and ignorant customers over- 
 whelming ideas of his wondrous wisdom. The 
 ' make up' was creditable to Jeremy, for though 
 he succeeded in deceiving others with his as- 
 sumption of supernatural knowledge, he him- 
 self did not believe in those powers whose aid 
 he so frequently professed to invoke on behalf 
 of his clients. 
 
 One day, when the ragged cloth had fallen 
 behind a victim who was departing from the 
 wizard's sanctum with a few vague and mys- 
 terious hints in exchange for solid coin, the old 
 man, after laughing sarcastically, pulled aside 
 the dingy curtains and stepped to the casement, 
 through which the glorious sunlight was stream- 
 ing. The scene upon which the wizard looked 
 was a very beautiful one ; and the old man 
 leaned his head upon his hands and gazed 
 intently upon the landscape. 
 
 ' 'Tis a bonnie world,' said he, ' 'tis a bonnie 
 world, and there are few views in it to compare
 
 4O GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 with this one for beauty. My soul is drawn 
 toward old Pendle, yon, with a love passing 
 that of woman, heartless and passionless though 
 the huge mass be. Heartless !' said he, after 
 a pause, ' heartless ! when every minute there 
 is a fresh expression upon its beautiful front ? 
 Ay, even so, for it looms yonder calm and 
 unconcerned when we are ushered into the 
 world, and when we are ushered out of it, and 
 laid to moulder away under the mountain's 
 shadow ; and it will rear its bold bluffs to 
 heaven and smile in the sunlight or frown in 
 the gloom after we who now love to gaze upon 
 it are blind to the solemn loveliness of its im- 
 passable face. Poor perishable fools are we, 
 with less power than the breeze which ruffles 
 yon purple heather !' 
 
 With a heavy sigh Jeremy turned away from 
 the window, and as the curtain fell behind him, 
 and he stood again in the wretchedly-lighted 
 room, he saw that he was not alone. The 
 chair in which the trembling hinds generally 
 were asked to seat themselves held a strange- 
 looking visitor of dark and forbidding aspect 
 
 'Jeremiah,' said this personage, 'devildom 
 first and poetising afterwards.'
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 41 
 
 / 
 
 There was an unpleasant tone of banter in 
 this speech, which did not seem in keeping 
 with the character of one who fain would pry 
 into futurity ; and as the wizard took his usual 
 position beneath the crocodile, he looked some- 
 what less oracular than was his wont when in 
 front of a shivering and terrified inquirer. 
 
 'What wantest thou with me?' said he, 
 with an ill-assumed appearance of unconcern. 
 
 The occupant of the chair smiled sardonically 
 as he replied 
 
 ' A little security that 's all. For five-and- 
 twenty years thou hast been amassing wealth 
 by duping credulous fools, and it is time I had 
 my percentage.' 
 
 The wizard stared in astonishment. Was 
 the stranger a thief, or worse ? he wondered, 
 but after a time, however, he said, drily 
 
 ' Even if thou hadst proved thy right to a 
 portion of the profits of my honest calling 
 and thou hast not thou wouldst not require a 
 packhorse to carry thy share away. Doth this 
 hovel resemble the abode of a possessor of 
 great wealth ? Two chairs, a table, and a few 
 old bones, its furniture ; and its tenant a half- 
 starved old man, who has had hard work to
 
 4? GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 support life upon the pittance he receives in 
 return for priceless words of wisdom ! Thou 
 art a stranger to me, and thy portion of my 
 earnings is correctly represented by a circle.' 
 
 A loud and unmusical laugh followed the 
 wizard's words ; and before the unpleasant 
 sound had died away the visitor remarked 
 
 ' If I am yet a stranger to thee, Jeremiah, 
 'tis not thy fault, for during the last quarter of 
 a century thou hast boasted of me as thy will- 
 ing servant, and extorted hard cash from thy 
 customers upon the strength of my friendship 
 and willingness to help thee ; and now, true to 
 thy beggarly instincts, thou wouldst deny me ! 
 But 'twill be in vain, Jeremiah 'twill be in 
 vain ! I have postponed this visit too long 
 already to be put off with subterfuges now.' 
 
 * I repeat, I know thee not,' said the wizard, 
 in a trembling voice. And, hurriedly rising 
 from his chair, he flung aside the thick curtain, 
 in order that the light of day might stream into 
 the chamber, for a nameless fear had taken 
 possession of him, and he did not care to remain 
 in the darkened apartment with his suspicious 
 visitor. To his surprise and terror, however, 
 darkness had fallen upon the scene, and, as he
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 43 
 
 gazed in alarm at the little diamond-framed 
 window, through which so short a time before 
 he had looked upon a fair prospect of meadow 
 and mountain, a vivid flash of lightning darted 
 across the heavens, and a clap of thunder burst 
 over the cottage. 
 
 ' 'Twill spoil good men's harvests, Jeremiah,' 
 the stranger calmly said ; ' but it need not 
 interrupt our interesting conversation.' 
 
 Angry at the bantering manner in which the 
 visitor spoke, the wizard flung open the door, 
 and cried 
 
 ' Depart from my dwelling, ere I cast thee 
 forth into the mire !' 
 
 ' Surely thou wouldst not have the heart to 
 fulfil thy threat,' said the stranger, 'although 
 'tis true I have but one shoe to be soiled by 
 the mud.' And as he spoke he quietly crossed 
 his legs, and Jeremiah perceived a hideous 
 cloven foot. 
 
 With a groan, the wizard sank into his chair, 
 and, deaf to the roaring of the thunder, and to 
 the beating of the rain through the doorway, 
 he sat helplessly gazing at his guest, whose 
 metallic laughter rang through the room. 
 
 ' Hast thou at length recognised me, Jere-
 
 44 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 miah ?' asked the Evil One, after an interval, 
 during which he had somewhat prominently 
 displayed the hoof, and gloated over the agony 
 its exhibition had caused his victim. 
 
 The old man was almost too terrified to 
 answer, but at last he whispered 
 
 ' I have.' 
 
 'And thou no longer wilt refuse me the 
 security ?' hissed the tormentor, as he placed a 
 parchment upon the table. 
 
 'What security dost thou demand?' feebly 
 inquired the quaking wizard. 
 
 ' Personal only,' said Satan. ' Put thy name 
 to this,' and he pointed to the bond. 
 
 Jeremy pushed his chair as far from the 
 suspicious-looking document as he could ere 
 he replied 
 
 ' Thou shalt not have name of mine.' 
 
 He had expected that an outburst of fiendish 
 wrath would follow this speech, but to his sur- 
 prise the guest simply remarked 
 
 ' Very well, Jeremiah. By to-morrow night, 
 however, thou shalt be exposed as the base 
 and ignorant pretender thou art. Thou hast 
 trespassed upon the rightful trade of my faith- 
 ful servants long enough, and 'tis time I
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 45 
 
 stopped thy prosperous career. Ere sunset 
 thou shalt have a rival, who will take the bread 
 from thy ungrateful mouth.' 
 
 After this polite speech the visitor picked 
 up the parchment, and began to fold it in a 
 methodical manner. 
 
 Such utterly unexpected gentlemanly behav- 
 iour somewhat reassured Jeremiah, and in a 
 fainter voice he humbly asked what his visitor 
 had to give in exchange for a wizard's auto- 
 graph. 
 
 ' Twenty- two years of such success as thou 
 hast not even dared to dream of! No opposi- 
 tion no exposure to thy miserable dupes,' 
 readily answered Satan. 
 
 Jeremiah considered deeply. The offer un- 
 doubtedly was a tempting one, for after all, 
 his profession had not been very lucrative, 
 and to lose his customers, therefore, meant 
 starvation. He was certain that if another 
 wizard opened an establishment the people 
 would flock to him, even through mere curi- 
 osity ; but he knew what signing the bond 
 included, and he was afraid to take the 
 step. 
 
 After a long delay, during which Satan care-
 
 46 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 fully removed a sharp stone from his hoof, 
 Jeremiah therefore firmly said 
 
 ' Master, I '11 not sign ! ' 
 
 Without more ado the visitor departed, and 
 almost before he was out of sight the storm 
 abated, and old Pendle again became visible. 
 
 A few days passed, and no one came to the 
 dwelling of the wizard ; and as such an absence 
 of customers was very unusual, Jeremy began 
 to fear that the supernatural stranger had not 
 forgotten his threat. On the evening of the 
 fifth day he crept into the little town to pur- 
 chase some articles of food. Previously, when- 
 ever he had had occasion to make a similar 
 journey, as he passed along the street the chil- 
 dren ran away in terror, and the older people 
 addressed him with remarkable humility ; but 
 this time, as he stepped rapidly past the houses, 
 the youngsters went on with their games as 
 though only an ordinary mortal went by, and 
 a burly fellow who was leaning against a door 
 jamb took his pipe from his mouth to cry 
 familiarly 
 
 ' Well, Jerry, owd lad, heaw are ta' ? ' 
 
 These marks of waning power and fading 
 popularity were sufficiently unmistakable; but
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 47 
 
 as he was making his few purchases he was 
 informed that a stranger, who seemed to be 
 possessed of miraculous powers, had arrived in 
 the town, and that many people who had been 
 to him were going about testifying to his 
 wonderful skill. With a heavy heart the 
 wizard returned to his cottage. Next night a 
 shower of stones dashed his window to pieces, 
 and, as he peered into the moonlight lane, he 
 saw a number of rough fellows, who evidently 
 were waiting and watching in hopes that he 
 would emerge from his dwelling. These were 
 the only visitors he had during an entire week ; 
 and at length, quite prepared to capitulate, he 
 said to himself 
 
 ' I wish I had another chance.' 
 
 No sooner had he uttered the words, than 
 there was a sudden burst of thunder, wind 
 roared round the house, again the clients' chair 
 was occupied, and the parchment lay upon the 
 table just as though it had not been disturbed. 
 
 ' Art thou ready to sign ?' asked Satan. 
 
 ' Ay !' answered the old man. 
 
 The Evil One immediately seized the wiz- 
 ard's hand, upon which Jeremy gave a piercing 
 yell, as well he might do, for the Satanic grip
 
 48 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 had forced the blood from the tips of his 
 fingers. 
 
 ' Sign !' said the Devil. 
 
 ' I can't write,' said the wizard. 
 
 The Evil One forthwith took hold of one of 
 the victim's fingers, and using it as a pen, wrote 
 in a peculiarly neat hand ' Jeremiah Parsons, 
 his x mark,' finishing with a fiendish flourish. 
 
 After doing this he again vacated the chair 
 and the room as mysteriously as on the pre- 
 vious occasion. 
 
 The autograph-loving visitor had barely de- 
 parted with the parchment ere a knock at the 
 door was heard, and in stepped a man who 
 wished to have the veil lifted, and who brought 
 the pleasing news that, influenced by the re- 
 ports of the opposition wizard, he had been to 
 his house in Clitheroe, but had found it empty, 
 the whilom tenant having fled no one knew 
 whither. From that time things looked up with 
 Jeremy, and money poured into the skulls, for 
 people crowded from far and near to test his 
 skill. For two-and-twenty years he flourished 
 and was famous, but the end came. 2 One morn- 
 ing, after a wild night when the winds howled 
 round Pendle, and it seemed as though all the
 
 THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. 49 
 
 powers of darkness were let loose, some 
 labourers who were going to their work were 
 surprised to find only the ruins of the wizard's 
 cottage. The place had been consumed by 
 fire ; and although search was made for the 
 magician's remains, only a few charred bones 
 were found, and these, some averred, were not 
 those of old Jeremy, but were relics of the 
 dusty old skeleton and the dirty crocodile under 
 the shadow of which the wizard used to sit
 
 THE FAIRY'S STADE. 
 
 !H' fairies ban getten varra shy sin' 
 thee an' me wir young, Matty, lass !' 
 said an old grey-headed man, who, 
 smoking a long pipe, calmly sat in a shady 
 corner of the kitchen of a Fylde country farm- 
 house. ' Nubry seems to see 'em neaw-a-days 
 as they ust. I onst had a seet o' one on 'em, 
 as plain as I con see thee sittin' theer, ravellin' 
 thi owd stockin'. I wir ploughin' varra soon 
 after dayleet, an' ther worn't a saand to be 
 heeart nobbut th' noise o'th' graand oppenin', 
 an' th' chirp ov a few brids wakkenin' an' tunin' 
 up, an' ov a toothrey crows close at after mi 
 heels a-pikin' up th' whorms. O ov a suddent 
 I heeard sumbry cry, i' a voice like owd Luke 
 wench i'th' orgin loft ov a Sundays, " I 've 
 brokken mi speet !" I lost no toime i' tornin' 
 to see whoa wir at wark at that haar, an' i' aar
 
 THE FAIRY S SPADE. 5 I 
 
 nelt too, an' I clapt mi een on as pratty a little 
 lass as ever oppent een i' this country side. 
 Owd England choilt's bonny, yone warrant 
 mi, but hoo's as feaw as sin aside o'th' face 
 as I see that morn. Hoo stood theer wi' th' 
 brokken spade i' her hond, an' i'th' tother a 
 hommer an' a toothrey nails, an' hoo smoilt at 
 mi, an' offert mi th' tackle, as mich as t' say, 
 " Naaw, Isik, be gradely for onst i' thi loife, an' 
 fettle this speet for mi, will ta ? " For a whoile 
 I stood theear gapin' like a foo', and wontherin' 
 wheear hoo could ha' risen fray, but hoo cried 
 aat onst mooar, " I 've brokken mi speet !" 
 Sooa I marcht toart her and tuk th' hommer 
 an' th' nails, an' tacklet it up. It didn't tek 
 mi long a-dooin', for it wir but a loile un ; 
 but when I 'd done hoo smoilt at mi, an* so 
 bonny, summat loike tha ust, Margit, when 
 owd Pigheeod wir cooartin' tha ; an' gan mi a 
 hanful o' brass, 3 an' afooar I 'd time to say owt 
 off hoo vanisht. That wur th' only feorin as 
 ivver I 've seen, an' mebbi th' only one as I 'm 
 likely to luk at, for mi seet 's getten nooan o'th' 
 best latterly.'
 
 THE KING OF THE FAIRIES. 
 
 'ANY years ago there lived in a farm- 
 house at a point of the high-road 
 from Manchester to Stockport, where 
 Levenshulme Church now stands, a worthy 
 named Burton, ' Owd Dannel Burton.'* 1 The 
 farm held by Daniel was a model one in its 
 way, the old man raising finer crops than any 
 other farmer in the district It was rumoured 
 that Daniel was very comfortably provided for, 
 and that a few bad years would not harm him ; 
 and so wonderfully did everything he took in 
 hand prosper, that his ' luck' became pro- 
 verbial. Such uniform prosperity could not 
 long continue without the tongue of envy and 
 detraction being set wagging, and the neigh- 
 bours who permitted thistles to overrun their 
 pastures whilst they gadded about to rush- 
 
 * Mr. Burton's grandson was for many years rector of All Saints', 
 Manchester.
 
 THE KING OF THE FAIRIES. 53 
 
 bearings and wakes, finding a reproach to 
 their idleness not only in the old man's success, 
 but also in the careful, industrious habits of 
 his daily life, were not slow to insinuate that 
 there was something more than farming at the 
 bottom of it. ' Dannel' had sold himself to 
 Satan, said some whose pigs had faded away, 
 and whose harvests had not been worth the 
 gathering ; and others pretended to know even 
 the terms of the contract, and how many years 
 the old man yet had to play on. A few of 
 these detractors were young men whose ima- 
 ginations were not kept in sufficient control, 
 but they grew wonderfully reserved respecting 
 the Satanic bargain after the hearty Daniel had 
 had an interview with them, and proved to 
 them that he had not forgotten the use of a 
 good tough black-thorn. 
 
 'It'snobbut luck,' philosophically remarked 
 others, 'mebbe it'll be my turn to- morn ;' but 
 the remainder vowed that neither luck or Evil 
 One had anything to do with it, for the success 
 was due to the labours of Puck, King of the 
 Fairies. 
 
 They were right. It was Puck, although no 
 one ever knew how the old man had been able
 
 54 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 to enlist the services of so valuable an auxili- 
 ary, Daniel being strangely reticent upon the 
 point, although generally by no means loth to 
 speak of the fairies and their doings. Reserve 
 with reference to these things, however, would 
 not have availed much, for the farm labourers, 
 the ruddy-cheeked milkmaids, and the other 
 women-folk about the farm-house, were fond of 
 boasting of the exploits of Puck how during 
 the night everything was ' cleaned up,' and all 
 was in apple-pie order when they came into 
 the kitchen at daybreak, the milk churned, the 
 cows foddered, the necessary utensils filled 
 with water from the well, the horses ready 
 harnessed for their day's work at the plough, 
 and even a week's threshing done and the barn 
 left as tidy as though it had just been emptied 
 and swept. Evidently the servant lasses had 
 no fear of, or objection to, a hard-working 
 supernatural visitor of this kind, but just the 
 reverse, and many of their listeners found 
 themselves wishing that their house, too, had 
 its Boggart. 
 
 For so long a period did this state of things 
 continue, each morning revealing an astound- 
 ing amount of work performed by the willing
 
 THE KING OF THE FAIRIES. 55 
 
 and inexpensive workman, that at length the 
 assistance was taken for granted, and as a 
 matter of course, offering no food for surprise, 
 although it did not cease to be a cause of envy 
 to the neighbours. 
 
 On one occasion, however, as old Daniel was 
 despatching a hearty and substantial breakfast, 
 a heated labourer brought word that all the 
 corn had been housed during the past night. 
 The strange story was true enough, for when 
 the old man reached the field, where on the 
 previous evening the golden sheaves of wheat 
 had stood, he found the expanse quite bare, and 
 as clean as though reapers, leaders, gleaners, 
 and geese had been carefully over it. The 
 harvest was in the barn, but not content with 
 this, Daniel, illustrating the old proverb that 
 * much would have more,' suddenly exclaimed, 
 ' I wonder whose horses Puck 4 used in this 
 work. If yon of mine, I daresay he sweated 
 them rarely ;' and away he strode towards the 
 stable. He had not reached the fold, however, 
 when he met Puck coming towards him, and in 
 a fever of greedy anxiety he cried, ' Puck, I 
 doubt thou'st spoiled yon horses !' No sooner 
 were the words out of his mouth, however,
 
 56 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 than he saw that for once in his life he had 
 made a mistake, for the fairy went pale with 
 anger as he shouted in a shrill treble : 
 
 Sheaf to field, and horse to stall, 
 I, the Fairy King, recall ! 
 Never more shall drudge of mine 
 Stir a horse or sheaf of thine. 
 
 After which vow he at once vanished. 
 
 The old man walked home in a sorrowful 
 mood, and actually forgot to go to the stable ; 
 but next morning early he was disturbed by a 
 knocking at his chamber door. ' Mesthur, ger 
 up,' cried the messenger, who on the previous 
 day had brought the news of the housing of 
 the corn, ' Mesthur, ger up, th' corn 's back i'th' 
 fielt.' With a groan of anguish Daniel arose, 
 and hastily made his way to the barn. All 
 the pile was gone, and the floor littered with 
 straw, exactly as it was before the fairy labour 
 had so transformed the place. 
 
 It did not take the farmer long to get over 
 the ground between his barn and the corn-field, 
 and arrived there he found the expanse once 
 more covered with yellow sheaves, on which 
 the beams of the rising sun were beginning to 
 fall. Here and there a sheaf had fallen upon 
 the ground, and everywhere straw and ears of
 
 THE KING OF THE FAIRIES. 57 
 
 corn were scattered about as though the reapers 
 had not long before left the place. The old 
 man turned away in despair. 
 
 From that time forward there was no more 
 work done about the farm, or the shippons, 
 and stables ; but in the house, however, the 
 maids continued to find their tasks performed 
 as usual. 
 
 Great were the rejoicings in the locality 
 when the story of the sheaves became known, 
 and it got noised about that ' Dannel's* fairy 
 had ' fown eawt' with him. The old man be- 
 came very dejected, for although he did not 
 clearly perceive that the rupture was entirely 
 due to his own selfish greed, he could not go 
 about the farm without observing how much 
 he had lost. 
 
 One summer evening in a thoughtful mood 
 he was walking homewards, and wishing that 
 the meadows were mown. Plunged in such 
 reflections, he met a neighbour, who at once 
 asked the cause of his trouble. Daniel 
 turned to point to the meadows, and as he did 
 so he saw the fairy, in an attitude of rapt 
 attention, stooping behind the hedgerow as 
 though anxious to overhear the conversation.
 
 58 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' Yo' miss your neet-mon ?' said the neighbour. 
 The old man thought that the time was come 
 to make his peace with offended royalty, and 
 with a cunning glance in the direction of the 
 hiding-place, he answered, ' I do, Abrum, and 
 may God bless Puck, th' King o'th' Fayrees.' 5 
 There was a startled cry from behind the 
 hedgerow, and both men turned in that direc- 
 tion, but there was nothing to be observed. 
 The fairy had vanished, never again to be seen 
 in Daniel Burton's fields. That night the work 
 was left undone even inside the farm-house, 
 and thenceforward when the kitchen needed 
 cleaning, water was wanted from the well, or 
 when milk had to be churned, the maids had 
 to get up early and do the work, for Puck, 
 King of the Fairies, would not touch either 
 mop or pail.
 
 MOTHER AND CHILD. 
 
 jjJHE tenants of Plumpton Hall had re- 
 tired to rest somewhat earlier than 
 was their wont, for it was the last 
 night of November. 
 
 The old low rooms were in darkness, and all 
 was silent as the grave ; for though the resi- 
 dents, unfortunately for themselves, were not 
 asleep, they held their breath, and awaited in 
 fear the first stroke of the hour from the old 
 clock in the kitchen. Suddenly the sound of 
 hurried footsteps broke the silence ; but with 
 sighs of relief the terrified listeners found that 
 the noise was made by a belated wayfarer, 
 almost out of his wits with fright, but who 
 was unable to avoid passing the hall, and 
 who, therefore, ran by the haunted building 
 as quickly as his legs could carry him. The 
 sensation of escape, however, was of but short
 
 60 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 duration, for the hammer commenced to strike ; 
 and no sooner had the last stroke of eleven 
 startled the echoes than loud thuds, as of a 
 heavy object bumping upon the stairs, were 
 heard. 
 
 The quaking occupants of the chambers hid 
 their heads beneath the bedclothes, for they 
 knew that an old-fashioned oak chair was on 
 its way down the noble staircase, and was 
 sliding from step to step as though dragged 
 along by an invisible being who had only one 
 hand at liberty. 
 
 If any one had dared to follow that chair 
 across the wide passage and into the wainscoted 
 parlour, he would have been startled by the 
 sight of a fire blazing in the grate, whence, ere 
 the servants retired, even the very embers had 
 been removed, and in the chair, the marvellous 
 movement of which had so frightened all the 
 inmates of the hall, he would have seen a 
 beautiful woman seated, with an infant at her 
 breast. 
 
 Year after year, on wild nights, when the 
 snow was driven against the diamond panes, 
 and the cry of the spirit of the storm came up 
 from the sea, the weird firelight shone from
 
 MOTHER AND CHILD. 6 I 
 
 the haunted room, and through the house 
 sounded a mysterious crooning as the un- 
 earthly visitor softly sang a lullaby to her 
 infant. Lads grew up into grey-headed men in 
 the old house ; and from youth to manhood, 
 on the last night of each November, they had 
 heard the notes, but none of them ever had 
 caught, even when custom had somewhat 
 deadened the terror which surrounded the 
 events of the much-dreaded anniversary, the 
 words of the song the ghostly woman sang. 
 The maids, too, had always found the grate as 
 it was left before the visit not a cinder or 
 speck of dust remaining to tell of the strange 
 fire, and no one had ever heard the chair 
 ascend the stairs. Chair and fire and child 
 and mother, however, were seen by many a 
 weary wayfarer, drawn to the house by the 
 hospitable look of the window, through which 
 the genial glow of the burning logs shone forth 
 into the night, but who, by tapping at the pane 
 and crying for shelter, could not attract the 
 attention of the pale nurse, clad in a quaint old 
 costume with lace ruff and ruffles, and singing 
 a mournful and melodious lullaby to the child 
 resting upon her beautiful bosom.
 
 62 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 Tradition tells of one of these wanderers, a 
 footsore and miserable seafaring man on the 
 tramp, who, attracted by the welcome glare, 
 crept to the panes, and seeing the cosy-looking 
 fire, and the Madonna-faced mother tenderly 
 nursing her infant, rapped at the glass and 
 begged for a morsel of food and permission to 
 sleep in the hayloft and, finding his pleadings 
 unanswered, loudly cursed the woman who 
 could sit and enjoy warmth and comfort and 
 turn a deaf ear to the prayers of the homeless 
 and hungry ; upon which the seated figure 
 turned the weird light of its wild eyes upon 
 him and almost changed him to stone a 
 labourer, going to his daily toil in the early 
 morn, finding the poor wretch gazing fixedly 
 through the window, against which his terror- 
 stricken face was closely pressed, his hair 
 turned white by fear, and his fingers convul- 
 sively clutching the casement.
 
 THE SPECTRAL CAT. 
 
 'ONG ago so long, in fact, that the 
 date has been lost in obscurity the 
 
 > piously-inclined inhabitants of the 
 then thickly wooded and wild country stretch- 
 ing from the sea-coast to Rivington Pike and 
 Hoghton determined to er^et a- church at 
 Whittle-le- Woods, and a site having been 
 selected, the first stone was laid with all the 
 ceremony due to so important and solemn a 
 proceeding. Assisted by the labours as well 
 as by the contributions of the faithful, the good 
 priest was in high spirits ; and as the close of 
 the first day had seen the foundations set out 
 and goodly piles of materials brought upon the 
 ground ready for the future, he fell asleep 
 congratulating himself upon having lived long 
 enough to see the wish of his heart gratified. 
 What was his surprise, however, when, after
 
 64 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 arising at the break of day, and immediately 
 rushing to his window to gaze upon the 
 work, he could not perceive either foundation 
 or pile of stone, the field in which he expected 
 to observe the promising outline being as green 
 and showing as few marks of disturbance as the 
 neighbouring ones. 6 
 
 ' Surely I must have been dreaming/ said the 
 good man, as he stood with rueful eyes at the 
 little casement, ' for there are not any signs 
 either of the gifts or the labours of the pious 
 sons of the church.' 
 
 In this puzzled frame of mind, and with a 
 heavy sigh, he once more courted sleep. He 
 had not slumbered long, however, when loud 
 knocks at the door of his dwelling and lusty 
 cries for Father Ambrose disturbed him. 
 Hastily attiring himself, he descended, to find 
 a concourse of people assembled in front of 
 the house ; and no sooner had he opened the 
 door than a mason cried out 
 
 ' Father Ambrose, where are the foundations 
 we laid yesterday, and where is the stone from 
 the quarry ?' 
 
 'Then I did not simply dream that I had 
 blessed the site ?' said the old man, inquiringly.
 
 THE SPECTRAL CAT. 65 
 
 Upon which there was a shout of laughter, 
 and a sturdy young fellow asked 
 
 ' And I did not dream that I carted six loads 
 from the quarry ? ' 
 
 ' Th' Owd Lad's hed a hand int',' said a 
 labourer, ' for t' fielt's as if fuut hed never stept 
 int'.' 
 
 The priest and his people at once set off to 
 inspect the site, and sure enough it was in the 
 state described by the mason ; cowslips and 
 buttercups decking the expanse of green, which 
 took different shades as the zephyr swept over 
 it. 
 
 'Well, I'm fair capped,' said a grey-headed 
 old farmer. * I 've hed things stown afoor to- 
 day, bud they'n generally bin things wi' feathers 
 on an' good to heyt an' not th' feaunda- 
 tions uv a church. Th' warlt's gerrin' ter'ble 
 wickit. We's hev' to bi lukkin' eawt for 
 another Noah's flood, I warrant.' 
 
 A peal of laughter followed this sally, but 
 Father Ambrose, who was in no mood for 
 mirth, sternly remarked ' There is something 
 here which savoureth of the doings of Beel- 
 zebub ;' and then he sadly turned away, leaving 
 the small crowd of gossips speculating upon 
 5
 
 66 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 the events of the night. Before the father 
 reached his dwelling, however, he heard his 
 name called by a rustic who was running along 
 the road. 
 
 ' Father Ambrose,' cried the panting messen- 
 ger, 'here's the strangest thing happened at 
 Leyland. The foundations of a church and all 
 sorts of building materials have been laid in a 
 field during the night, and Adam the miller is 
 vowing vengeance against you for having tres- 
 passed on his land.' 
 
 The priest at once returned to the little 
 crowd of people, who still were gaping at the 
 field from which all signs of labour had been 
 so wonderfully removed, and bade the mes- 
 senger repeat the strange story, which he did 
 at somewhat greater length, becoming loquaci- 
 ous in the presence of hfs equals, for he en- 
 joyed their looks of astonishment. When the 
 astounding narrative had been told, the crowd 
 at once started for Leyland, their pastor promis- 
 ing to follow after he had fortified himself with 
 breakfast. 
 
 When the good man reached the village he 
 had no need to inquire which was Adam the 
 miller's field, for he saw the crowd gathered in
 
 THE SPECTRAL CAT. 67 
 
 a rich-looking meadow. As he opened the gate 
 Adam met him, and without ceremony at once 
 accused him of having taken possession of his 
 field. 'Peace, Adam,' said the priest. 'The 
 field hath been taken not by me, but by a 
 higher power, either good or evil I fear the 
 latter/ and he made his way to the people. 
 True enough, the foundations were laid as at 
 Whittle, and even the mortar was ready for the 
 masons. ' I am loth to think that this is a 
 sorry jest of the Evil One,' said Father 
 Ambrose ; ' ye must help me to outwit him, and 
 to give him his labour for his pains. Let 
 each one carry what he can, and, doubtless, 
 Adam will be glad to cart the remainder,' a 
 proposition the burly miller agreed to at once. 
 Accordingly each of the people walked off with 
 a piece of wood, and Adam started for his 
 team. Before long the field was cleared, and 
 ere sunset the foundations were again laid in 
 the original place, and a goodly piece of wall 
 had been built. 
 
 Grown wise by experience, the priest selected 
 two men to watch the place during the night. 
 Naturally enough, these worthies, who by no 
 means liked the task, but were afraid to decline
 
 68 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 it, determined to make themselves as com- 
 fortable as they could under the circumstances. 
 They therefore carried to the place a 
 quantity of food and drink, and a number of 
 empty sacks, with which they constructed an 
 impromptu couch near the blazing wood fire. 
 Notwithstanding the seductive influence of the 
 liquor, they were not troubled with much com- 
 pany, for the few people who resided in the 
 vicinity did not care to remain out of doors late 
 after what Father Ambrose had said as to the 
 proceeding having been a joke of Satan's. 
 The priest, however, came to see the men, and 
 after giving them his blessing, and a few words 
 of advice, he left them to whatever the night 
 might bring forth. No sooner had he gone 
 than the watchers put up some boards to shield 
 them from the wind, and, drawing near to the 
 cheerful fire, they began to partake of a homely 
 but plentiful supper. Considering how requi- 
 site it was that they should be in possession of 
 all their wits, perhaps it would have been better 
 had not a large bottle been in such frequent 
 requisition, for, soon after the meal was ended, 
 what with the effects of the by-no-means weak 
 potion, the warmth and odour sent forth by the 
 crackling logs, and the musical moaning of the
 
 THE SPECTRAL CAT. 69 
 
 wind in the branches overhead, they began to 
 feel drowsy, to mutter complaints against the 
 hardship of their lot, and to look longingly 
 upon the heap of sacks. 
 
 ' If owt comes,' said the oldest of the two, 
 ' one con see it as well as two, an' con wakken 
 t' tother theerfore I 'm in for a nod.' And he 
 at once flung himself upon the rude bed. 
 
 'Well,' said the younger one, who was 
 perched upon a log close to the fire, 'hev thi 
 own way, an' tha'll live lunger; but I'se 
 wakken tha soon, an' hev a doze mysen. 
 That's fair, isn't it ?' 
 
 To this question there was no response, for 
 the old man was already asleep. The younger 
 one immediately reached the huge bottle, and 
 after drinking a hearty draught from it placed 
 it within reach, saying, as he did so 
 
 ' I 'm nooan freetunt o' thee, as heaw it is ! 
 Thaart not Belsybub, are ta ?' 
 
 Before long he bowed his head upon his 
 hands, and gazing into the fire gave way to a 
 pleasant train of reflections, in which the miller's 
 daughter played a by-no-means unimportant 
 part. In a little while he, too, began to doze 
 and nod, and the ideas and thronging fancies 
 soon gave way to equally delightful dreams.
 
 7O GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 Day was breaking when the pair awoke ; 
 the fire was out, and the noisy birds were 
 chirping their welcome to the sun. For a 
 while the watchers stared at each other with 
 well-acted surprise. 
 
 ' I 'm freetunt tha's o'erslept thysel',' said the 
 young fellow ; ' and rayly I do think as I 've 
 bin noddin' a bit mysen.' And then, as he 
 turned round, ' Why, it 's gone ageean ! Jacob, 
 owd lad ! th' foundation, an' th' wo's, an' o th' 
 lots o' stooans are off t' Leyland ageean !' 
 
 The field was again clear, grass and meadow 
 flowers covering its expanse, and after a long 
 conference the pair determined that the best 
 course for them to pursue would be that of 
 immediately confessing to Father Ambrose 
 that they had been asleep. Accordingly they 
 wended their way to his house, and having 
 succeeded in arousing him, and getting him to 
 the door, the young man informed him that 
 once more the foundations were missing. 
 
 ' What took them ?' asked the priest. To 
 which awkward query the old man replied, 
 that they did not see anything. 
 
 ' Then ye slept, did ye ?' asked the Father. 
 
 ' Well,' said the young man, ' we did nod a 
 minnit or two ; but we wir toired wi' watchin'
 
 THE SPECTRAL CAT. 71 
 
 so closely ; an', yo' see, that as con carry th' 
 foundations ov a church away connot hev mich 
 trouble i' sendin' unlarnt chaps loike Jacob an' 
 me to sleep agen eaur will.' 
 
 This ended the colloquy, for Father Ambrose 
 laughed heartily at the ready answer. Shortly 
 afterwards, as on the preceding day, the mes- 
 senger from Leyland arrived with tidings that 
 the walls had again appeared in Adam's field. 
 Again they were carted back, and placed in 
 their original position, and once more was a 
 watch set, the priest taking the precaution of 
 remaining with the men until near upon mid- 
 night. Almost directly after he had left the 
 field one of the watchers suddenly started from 
 his seat, and cried 
 
 ' See yo', yonder, there 's summat wick !' 
 Both men gazed intently, and saw a huge 
 cat, with great unearthly-looking eyes, and a 
 tail with a barbed end. Without any seeming 
 difficulty this terrible animal took up a large 
 stone, and hopped off with it, returning almost 
 immediately for another. This strange per- 
 formance went on for some time, the two ob- 
 servers being nearly petrified by terror ; but at 
 length the younger one said
 
 72 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' I *m like to put a stop to yon wark, or hee'll 
 say win bin asleep ageean,' and seizing a large 
 piece of wood he crept down the field, the 
 old man following closely behind. When he 
 reached the cat, which took no notice of his 
 approach, he lifted his cudgel, and struck the 
 animal a heavy blow on its head. Before he 
 had time to repeat it, however, the cat, with a 
 piercing scream, sprang upon him, flung him 
 to the ground, and fixed its teeth in his throat. 
 The old man at once fled for the priest. When 
 he returned with him, cat, foundations, and 
 materials were gone ; but the dead body of the 
 poor watcher was there, with glazed eyes, 
 gazing at the pitiless stars. 
 
 After this terrible example of the power of 
 the fiendish labourer it was not considered ad- 
 visable to attempt a third removal, and the 
 building was proceeded with upon the site at 
 Leyland chosen by the spectre. 
 
 The present parish church covers the place 
 long occupied by the original building; and 
 although all the actors in this story passed 
 away centuries ago, a correct likeness of the 
 cat has been preserved, and may be seen by 
 the sceptical. 7
 
 C THE CAPTURED FAIRIES. 
 
 JHERE once lived in the little village of 
 Hoghton two idle, good-for-nothing 
 fellows, who, somehow or other, 
 managed to exist without spending the day, 
 from morn to dewy eve, at the loom. When 
 their more respectable neighbours were hard 
 at work they generally were to be seen either 
 hanging about the doorway of the little ale- 
 house or playing at dominoes inside the old- 
 fashioned hostelry ; and many a time in broad 
 daylight their lusty voices might be heard as 
 they trolled forth the hearty poaching ditty, 
 
 ' It 's my delight, on a shiny night.' 
 
 It was understood that they had reason to sym- 
 pathise with the sentiments expressed in the 
 old ballad. Each was followed by a ragged, 
 suspicious-looking lurcher ; and as the four 
 lounged about the place steady-going people
 
 74 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 shook their heads, and prophesied all sorts of 
 unpleasant terminations to so unsatisfactory a 
 career. So far as the dogs were concerned 
 the dismal forebodings were verified, for from 
 poaching in the society of their masters the 
 clever lurchers took to doing a little on their 
 own account, and both were shot in the pursuit 
 of game by keepers, who were only too glad 
 of an opportunity of ridding the neighbour- 
 hood of such misdirected intelligence. Soon 
 after this unfortunate event, the two men, who 
 themselves had a narrow escape, had their nets 
 taken ; and, as they were too poor to purchase 
 others, and going about to borrow such articles 
 was equivalent to accusing their friends of 
 poaching habits, they were reduced to the 
 necessity of using sacks whenever they visited 
 the squire's fields. 
 
 One night, after climbing the fence and 
 making their way to a well-stocked warren, 
 they put in a solitary ferret and rapidly fixed 
 the sacks over the burrows. They did not wait 
 long in anxious expectation of an exodus be- 
 fore there was a frantic rush, and after hastily 
 grasping the sacks tightly round the necks, 
 and tempting their missionary from the hole,
 
 THE CAPTURED FAIRIES. 75 
 
 they crept through the hedgerow, and at a 
 sharp pace started for home. For some time 
 they remained unaware of the nature of their 
 load, and they were congratulating themselves 
 upon the success which had crowned their in- 
 dustry, when suddenly there came a cry from 
 one of the prisoners, ' Dick, wheer art ta ? ' 
 The poachers stood petrified with alarm ; and 
 almost immediately a voice from the other bag 
 piped out 
 
 ' In a sack, 
 On a back, 
 Riding up Hoghton Brow.' 8 
 
 The terrified men at once let their loads fall, 
 and fled at the top of their speed, leaving be- 
 hind them the bags full of fairies, who had 
 been driven from their homes by the intrud- 
 ing ferret. Next morning, however, the two 
 poachers ventured to the spot where they had 
 heard the supernatural voices. The sacks 
 neatly folded were lying at the side of the 
 road, and the men took them up very tenderly, 
 as though in expectation of another mysterious 
 utterance, and crept off with them. 
 
 Need it be said that those bags were not 
 afterwards used for any purpose more exciting
 
 76 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 than the carriage of potatoes from the pre- 
 viously neglected bit of garden, the adventure 
 having quite cured the men of any desire to 
 ' pick up' rabbits. 
 
 Like most sudden conversions, however, that 
 of the two poachers into hard-working weavers 
 was regarded with suspicion by the inhabitants 
 of the old-world village, and in self-defence the 
 whilom wastrels were forced to tell the story of 
 the imprisonment of the fairies. The wonder- 
 ful narrative soon got noised abroad ; and as 
 the changed characters, on many a summer 
 evening afterwards, sat hard at work in their 
 loom-house, and, perhaps almost instinctively, 
 hummed the old ditty, 
 
 ' It 's my delight, on a shiny night,' 
 
 the shock head of a lad would be protruded 
 through the honeysuckle which almost covered 
 the casement, as the grinning youngster, who 
 had been patiently waiting for the weaver to 
 commence his song and give an opportunity 
 for the oft-repeated repartee, cried, 'Nay, it 
 isn't thi delight ; " Dick, wheer art ta ?" '
 
 
 THE PILLION LADY. 
 
 T was on a beautiful night in the middle 
 of summer that Humphrey Dobson, 
 after having transacted a day's busi- 
 ness at Garstang market, and passed some 
 mirthful hours with a number of jovial young 
 fellows in the best parlour of the Ffrances 
 Arms, with its oak furniture and peacock 
 feathers, mounted his steady-going mare, and 
 set off for home. He had got some distance 
 from the little town, and was rapidly nearing 
 a point where the road crossed a stream said 
 to be haunted by the spirit of a female who 
 had been murdered many years back ; and 
 although the moon was shining brightly, and 
 the lonely rider could see far before him, there 
 was one dark spot overshadowed by trees a 
 little in advance which Humphrey feared to 
 reach. He felt a thrill of terror as he suddenly
 
 78 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 remembered the many strange stories told of 
 the headless woman whose sole occupation 
 and delight seemed to be that of terrifying 
 travellers ; but, with a brave endeavour to 
 laugh off his fears, he urged his horse forward, 
 and attempted to troll forth the burden of an 
 old song : 
 
 ' He rode and he rode till he came to the dooar, 
 And Nell came t' oppen it, as she'd done afooar : 
 " Come, get off thy horse," she to him did say, 
 " An' put it i'th' stable, an' give it some hay." ' 
 
 It would not do, however ; and suddenly he 
 put spurs to the mare and galloped towards 
 the little bridge. No sooner did the horse's 
 hoofs ring upon the stones than Humphrey 
 heard a weird and unearthly laugh from be- 
 neath the arch, and, as the animal snorted and 
 bounded forward, the young fellow felt an icy 
 arm glide round his waist and a light pressure 
 against his back. Drops of perspiration fell 
 from his brow, and his heart throbbed wildly, 
 but he did not dare to look behind lest his 
 worst fears should be verified, and he should 
 behold ' th' boggart o'th' bruk.' 
 
 As though conscious of its ghastly burden, 
 the old mare ran as she never had run before ; 
 the hedgerows and trees seemed to fly past,
 
 THE PILLION LADY. 8 I 
 
 while sparks streamed from the flints in the 
 road, and in an incredibly short space of time 
 the farm-house was reached. Instinctively, 
 Humphrey tried to guide the mare into the 
 yard, but his efforts were powerless, for the 
 terrified animal had got the bit in her teeth, 
 and away she sped past the gateway. 
 
 As the rider was thus borne away, another 
 sepulchral laugh broke the silence, but this 
 time it sounded so close to the horseman's ear 
 that he involuntarily looked round. 
 
 He found that the figure, one of whose arms 
 was twined round his waist, was not the head- 
 less being of whom he had heard so many 
 fearful narratives, but another and a still more 
 terrible one, for, grinning in a dainty little 
 hood, and almost touching his face, there was 
 a ghastly skull, with eyeless sockets, and teeth 
 gleaming white in the clear moonlight. 
 
 Petrified by fear, he could not turn his head 
 away, and, as the mare bore him rapidly along, 
 ever and anon a horrid derisive laugh sounded 
 in his ears as for a moment the teeth parted 
 and then closed with a sudden snap. Terrified 
 as he was, however, he noticed that the arm 
 which encircled his body gradually tightened 
 6
 
 82 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 around him, and putting down his hand to 
 grasp it he found it was that of a fleshless 
 skeleton. 
 
 How long he rode thus embraced by a 
 spectre he knew not, but it seemed an age. 
 
 Suddenly, however, as at a turn in the road 
 the horse stumbled and fell, Humphrey, utterly 
 unprepared for any such occurrence, was thrown 
 over the animal's head and stunned by the fall. 
 
 When he recovered full consciousness it was 
 daybreak. The sun was rising, the birds were 
 singing in the branching foliage overhead, and 
 the old mare was quietly grazing at a distance. 
 With great difficulty, for he was faint through 
 loss of blood, and lame, he got home and told 
 his story. There were several stout men about 
 the farm who professed to disbelieve it, and 
 pretended to laugh at the idea of a skeleton 
 horsewoman, who, without saying with your 
 leave or by your leave, had ridden pillion with 
 the young master, but it was somewhat remark- 
 able that none of them afterwards could be 
 induced to cross the bridge over the haunted 
 stream after ' th' edge o' dark.'
 
 THE FAIRY FUNERAL. 
 
 JHERE are few spots in Lancashire more 
 likely to have been peopled by fairies 
 than that portion of the highway 
 which runs along the end of Penwortham 
 wood. 
 
 At all times the locality is very beautiful, 
 but it is especially so in summer, when the 
 thin line of trees on the one side of the road 
 and the rustling wood upon the other cast a 
 welcome shade upon the traveller, who can 
 rest against the old railings, and look down 
 upon a rich expanse of meadow-land and corn- 
 fields, bounded in the distance by dim, solemn- 
 looking hills, and over the white farm-houses, 
 snugly set in the midst of luxurious vegetation. 
 From this vantage-ground a flight of steps 
 leads down to the well of St. Mary, the water 
 of which, once renowned for its miraculous 
 
 83
 
 84 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 efficacy, is as clear as crystal and of never- 
 ceasing flow. 
 
 To this sacred neighbourhood thousands ot 
 pilgrims have wended their way ; and although 
 the legend of the holy well has been lost, it is 
 easy to understand with what superstitious 
 reverence the place would be approached by 
 those whose faith was of a devout and un- 
 questioning kind, and what feelings would in- 
 fluence those whose hearts were heavy with 
 the weight of a great sorrow as they descended 
 the steps worn by the feet of their countless 
 predecessors. 
 
 From the little spring a pathway winds 
 across meadows and through corn-fields to the 
 sheltered village, and a little further along the 
 highway a beautiful avenue winds from the old 
 lodge gates to the ancient church and priory. 
 Wide as is this road it is more than shaded by 
 the tall trees which tower on each side, their 
 topmost branches almost interlaced, the sun- 
 beams passing through the green network, and 
 throwing fantastic gleams of light upon the 
 pathway, along which so many have been 
 carried to the quiet God's Acre. 
 
 At the end of this long and beautiful walk
 
 THE FAIRY FUNERAL. 85 
 
 stands the old priory, no longer occupied by 
 the Benedictines from Evesham, the silvery 
 sound of whose voices at eventide used to 
 swell across the rippling Ribble ; and, a little 
 to the right of the pile, the Church of St. 
 Mary, with its background of the Castle Hill. 
 
 By the foot of this Ancient British and 
 Roman outlook there is a little farm-house, 
 with meadow land stretching away to the broad 
 river ; and one night, fifty or sixty years ago, 
 two men, one of whom was a local ' cow-doctor,' 
 whose duties had compelled him to remain 
 until a late hour, set out from this dwelling to 
 walk home to the straggling village of Longton. 
 It was near upon midnight when they stepped 
 forth, but it was as light as mid-day, the moon 
 shining in all her beauty, and casting her 
 glamour upon the peaceful scene. So quiet 
 was it that it seemed as though even the 
 Zephyrs were asleep. There was not a breath 
 of wind, and not a leaf rustled or a blade of 
 grass stirred, and had it not been for the 
 sounds of the footsteps of the two men, who 
 were rapidly ascending the rough cart-track 
 winding up the side of the hill, all would have 
 been as still as death. The sweet silence was
 
 86 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 a fitting one, for in the graveyard by the side 
 of the lane through which the travellers were 
 passing, and over the low moss-covered wall of 
 which might be seen the old-fashioned tomb- 
 stones, erect like so many sentinels marking 
 the confines of the battle-field of life, hundreds 
 were sleeping the sleep with which only the 
 music of the leaves, the sough of the wind, and 
 the sigh of the sea seem in harmony. 
 
 As the two men opened the gate at the 
 corner of the churchyard, the old clock sounded 
 the first stroke of midnight. 
 
 'That's twelve on 'em,' said the oldest of 
 the two. 
 
 ' Ay, Adam,' said the other, a taller and 
 much younger man. ' Another day 's passin' 
 away, an' it con't dee wi'eaut tellin' everybody ; 
 yet ther's bod few on us as tez onny notice 
 on't, for we connot do to be towd as wer 
 toime's growin' bod short. I should think as 
 tha dusn't care to hear th' clock strike, Adam, 
 to judge bith' colour o' thi toppin', for tha 'rt 
 gerrin' varra wintry lookin'.' 
 
 The old man chuckled at this sally, and then 
 said, slowly and drily : 
 
 4 Speyk for thisen, Robin speyk for thisen ;
 
 THE FAIRY FUNERAL. 87 
 
 an' yet why should ta speyk at o ? Choilt as 
 tha are an' tha art nobbut a choilt, clivver as 
 tha fancies thisen tha 'rt owd enough to mind 
 as it's nod olus th' grey-heeoded uns as dees 
 th' fost. Th' chickins fo' off th' peeark mooar 
 oftener nor th' owd brids. Ther 's monny an 
 owd tree wi' nobbud a twothree buds o' green 
 abaat it, to show as it wur yung wonst, as tha'd 
 hev herd wark to delve up, th' roots bein' so 
 deep i'th' graand ; an' ther 's monny a rook o' 
 young-lukkin' uns as tha met poo up as yezzy 
 as a hondful o' sallet. It teks leetnin' to kill 
 th' owd oak, but th' fost nippin' woint off th' 
 Martch yon soon puts th' bonnie spring posies 
 out o' sect. If I'm growin' owd, let's hope 
 I'm roipnin* as weel. Tha 'rt not th' fost bit 
 of a lad as thowt heer baan to last o th' tothers 
 aat, an' as hed hardly toime to finish his 
 crowin' afoor th' sexton clapt o honful o' sond 
 i' his meauth.' 
 
 This conversation brought the two beyond 
 the gate and some distance along the avenue, 
 in which the moonlight was somewhat toned 
 by the thickness of the foliage above, and they 
 were rapidly nearing the lodge gates, when 
 suddenly the solemn sound of a deep-toned
 
 88 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 bell broke the silence. Both men stopped and 
 listened intently. 
 
 ' That 's th' passin'-bell,' 9 said Adam. ' Wod- 
 ever con be up ? I never knew it rung at this 
 toime o'th' neet afooar.' 
 
 * Mek less racket, will ta,' said Robin. ' Led 's 
 keep count an' see heaw owd it is.' 
 
 Whilst the bell chimed six-and-twenty both 
 listeners stood almost breathless, and then 
 Adam said : 
 
 * He 's thy age, Robin, chuz who he is/ 
 
 * Ther wer no leet i 'th' belfry as wi come by, 
 as I see on,' said the young man, ' I 'd rayther 
 be i' bed nor up theer towlin* ad this toime, 
 wudn' t tha ? ' 
 
 ' Yoi,' said Adam. ' But owd Jemmy dusn't 
 care, an' why should he ? Hee's bin amung 
 th' deeod to ' long to be freet'nt on 'em neet or 
 day, wake an' fable as he is. I dar' say hee's 
 fun aat afoor neaw as they 'r not varra rough to 
 dale wi'. Ther's nod mich feightin i'th' bury- 
 hoyle, beaut ids wi' th' resurrectioners. Bud 
 led 's get to'art whoam, lad ; we 're loikely 
 enough to larn o abaat it to-morn." 
 
 Without more words they approached the 
 lodge, but to their great terror, when they were
 
 THE FAIRY FUNERAL. 89 
 
 within a few yards from the little dwelling, the 
 gates noiselessly swung open, the doleful tolling 
 of the passing-bell being the only sound to be 
 heard. Both men stepped back affrighted as a 
 little figure clad in raiment of a dark hue, but 
 wearing a bright red cap, and chanting some 
 mysterious words in a low musical voice as he 
 walked, stepped into the avenue. 
 
 ' Ston back, mon,' cried Adam, in a terrified 
 voice 'ston back ; it's th' feeorin ; bud they'll 
 not hort tha if tha dusna meddle wi' um.' 
 
 The young man forthwith obeyed his aged 
 companion, and standing together against the 
 trunk of a large tree, they gazed at the minia- 
 ture being stepping so lightly over the road, 
 mottled by the stray moonbeams. It was a 
 dainty little object ; but although neither Adam 
 nor Robin could comprehend the burden of the 
 song it sang, the unmistakable croon of grief 
 with which each stave ended told the listeners 
 that the fairy was singing a requiem. The 
 men kept perfectly silent, and in a little while 
 the figure paused and turned round, as though 
 in expectation, continuing, however, its mourn- 
 ful notes. By-and-by the voices of other 
 singers were distinguished, and as they grew
 
 9<D GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 louder the fairy standing in the roadway ceased 
 to render the verse, and sang only the refrain, 
 and a few minutes afterwards Adam and Robin 
 saw a marvellous cavalcade pass through the 
 gateway. A number of figures, closely resem- 
 bling the one to which their attention had first 
 been drawn, walked two by two, and behind 
 them others with their caps in their hands, 
 bore a little black coffin, the lid of which 
 was drawn down so as to leave a portion of 
 the contents uncovered. Behind these again 
 others, walking in pairs, completed the proces- 
 sion. All were singing in inexpressibly mourn- 
 ful tones, pausing at regular intervals to allow 
 the voice of the one in advance to be heard, as 
 it chanted the refrain of the song, and when 
 the last couple had passed into the avenue, the 
 gates closed as noiselessly as they had opened. 
 
 As the bearers of the burden marched past 
 the two watchers, Adam bent down, and, by 
 the help of a stray gleam of moonlight, saw 
 that there was a little corpse in the coffin. 
 
 ' Robin, mi lad,' said he, in a trembling voice 
 and with a scared look, 'it's th' pictur o' thee 
 as they hev i' th' coffin ! ' 
 
 With a gasp of terror the young man also
 
 THE FAIRY FUNERAL. 93 
 
 stooped towards the bearers, and saw clearly 
 enough that the face of the figure borne by the 
 fairies indeed closely resembled his own, save 
 that it was ghastly with the pallor and dews of 
 death. 
 
 The procession had passed ere he was able 
 to speak, for, already much affrighted by the 
 appearance of the fairies, the sight of the little 
 corpse had quite unnerved him. Clinging in 
 a terrified manner to the old man, he said, in a 
 broken voice 
 
 ' It raley wor me, Adam! Dust think it's 
 a warnin', an' I 'm abaat to dee ?' 
 
 The old man stepped out into the road as 
 he replied 
 
 ' It wur a quare sect, Robin, no daat ; bud 
 I Ve sin monny sich i' mi toime, an' theyne 
 come to nowt i' th' end. Warnin' or not, haa- 
 ever,' he added, wiih strong common sense, 
 ' ther '11 be no harm done bi thee livin' as if it 
 wur one.' 
 
 The mournful music of the strange singers 
 and the solemn sound of the passing bell could 
 still be heard, and the two awe-struck men stood 
 gazing after the cavalcade. 
 
 ' It mon be a warnin', again said Robin,
 
 94 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' an' I wish I 'd axed um haa soon I 've to dee. 
 Mebbee they'n a towd me.' 
 
 ' I don't think they wod,' said Adam. ' I 've 
 olus heeard as they'r rare and vext if they'r 
 spokken to. Theyn happen a done tha some 
 lumberment if tha 'ad axed owt.' 
 
 'They could but a kilt mi/ replied Robin, 
 adding, with that grim humour which so often 
 accompanies despair, 'an' they're buryin' mi 
 neaw, ar'nod they ?' Then in a calm and firm 
 voice he said ' I 'm baan to ax 'em, come wod 
 will. If tha 'rt freetent tha con goo on whoam.' 
 
 ' Nay, nay,' said Adam warmly, ' I 'm nooan 
 scaret. If tha'rt for catechoizing um, I'll see 
 th' end on it' 
 
 Without further parley the men followed 
 after and soon overtook the procession, which 
 was just about to enter the old churchyard, the 
 gates of which, like those of the lodge, swung 
 open apparently of their own accord, and no 
 sooner did Robin come up with the bearers 
 than, in a trembling voice, he cried 
 
 ' Winnot yo' tell mi haaw lung I 've to live ?' 
 
 There was not any answer to this appeal, 
 the little figure in front continuing to chant 
 its refrain with even deepened mournfulness.
 
 THE FAIRY FUNERAL. 95 
 
 Imagining that he was the leader of the band, 
 Robin stretched out his hand and touched him. 
 No sooner had he done this than, with start- 
 ling suddenness, the whole cavalcade vanished, 
 the gates banged to with a loud clang, deep 
 darkness fell upon everything, the wind howled 
 and moaned round the church and the tomb- 
 stones in the graveyard, the branches creaked 
 and groaned overhead, drops of rain pattered 
 upon the leaves, mutterings of thunder were 
 heard, and a lurid flash of lightning quivered 
 down the gloomy avenue. 
 
 1 1 towd tha haa it ud be,' said Adam, and 
 Robin simply answered 
 
 ' I 'm no worse off than befooar. Let 's mak' 
 toart whoam ; bud say nowt to aar fowk it 
 ud nobbut freeten th' wimmin.' 
 
 Before the two men reached the lodge gates 
 a terrible storm burst over them, and through 
 it they made their way to the distant village. 
 
 A great change came over Robin, and from 
 being the foremost in every countryside mar- 
 lock he became serious and reserved, invariably 
 at the close of the day's work rambling away, 
 as though anxious to shun mankind, or else 
 spending the evening at Adam's talking over
 
 g6 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' th' warnin'.' Strange to say, about a month 
 afterwards he fell from a stack, and after 
 lingering some time, during which he often 
 deliriously rambled about the events of the 
 dreadful night, he dozed away, Old Jemmy, 
 the sexton, had another grave to open, and 
 the grey-headed Adam was one of the bearers 
 who carried Robin's corpse along the avenue 
 in which they had so short a time before seen 
 the fairy funeral. 10
 
 THE CHIVALROUS DEVIL. 
 
 I BOUT half-a-century ago there lived, in 
 a lane leading away from a little 
 village near Ganstang, a poor idiot 
 named Gregory. He was at once the sport 
 and the terror of the young folks. Uniformly 
 kind to them, carefully convoying them to the 
 spots where, in his lonely rambles, he had 
 noticed birds' nests, or pressing upon them the 
 wild flowers he had gathered in the neighbour- 
 ing woods and thickets, he received at their 
 ungrateful hands all kinds of ill treatment, not 
 always stopping short of personal violence. In 
 this respect, however, the thoughtless children 
 only followed the example set them by their 
 elders, for seldom did poor Gregory pass along 
 the row of cottages, dignified by the name of 
 street, which constituted the village, without an 
 
 7
 
 98 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 unhandsome head being projected from the 
 blacksmith's or cobbler's shop, or from a door- 
 way, and a cruel taunt being sent after the idiot, 
 who, in his ragged clothing, with his handful of 
 harebells and primroses, and a wreath of green 
 leaves round his battered, old hat, jogged along 
 towards his mother's cottage, singing as he 
 went, in a pathetic monotone, a snatch of an 
 old Lancashire ballad. 
 
 In accordance with that holy law which, 
 under such circumstances, influences woman's 
 heart, the mother loved this demented lad with 
 passionate fondness, all the tenderness with 
 which her nature had been endowed having 
 been called forth by the needs of the afflicted 
 child, whose only haven of refuge from the 
 harshness of his surroundings and the cruelty 
 of those who, had not they been as ignorant as 
 the hogs they fed, would have pitied and pro- 
 tected him, was her breast. Lavishing all her 
 affection upon the poor lad, she had no kind- 
 ness to spare for those who tormented him ; 
 and abstaining from any of those melodramatic 
 and vulgar curses with which a person of less 
 education would have followed those who 
 abused her child, she studiously held herself
 
 THE CHIVALROUS DEVIL. Q9 
 
 aloof from her neighbours, and avoided meet- 
 ing them, except when she was compelled to 
 purchase food or other articles for her little 
 household. This conduct gave an excuse for 
 for much ill feeling, and as the woman had no 
 need to toil for her daily bread, and as her 
 cottage was the neatest in the district, there 
 was much jealousy. 
 
 One night, at a jovial gathering, it was 
 arranged that a practical joke, of what wa r 
 considered a very humorous kind, should be 
 played upon the idiot. The boors selected 
 one of their party, whose task it should be to 
 attire himself in a white sheet, and to emerge 
 into the lane when the poor lad should make 
 his appearance. In accordance with this plan 
 the pack of hobbledehoys watched the cottage 
 night after night, in the hope of seeing the idiot 
 leave the dwelling, and at length their patience 
 was rewarded. They immediately hid them- 
 selves in the ditch, while the mock ghost con- 
 cealed himself behind the trunk of a tree. The 
 lad, not suspecting any evil, came along, hum- 
 ming, in his melancholy monotone, the usual 
 fragment, and just before he reached the tree 
 the sheeted figure slowly stepped forth to the
 
 IOO GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 accompaniment of the groanings and bellowings 
 of his associates. They had expected to see 
 the idiot flee in terror ; but instead of so doing, 
 he laughed loudly at the white figure, and then 
 suddenly, as the expression of his face changed 
 to one of intense interest, he shouted, ' Oh, oh ! 
 a black one ! a black one !' Sure enough, a dark 
 and terrible figure stood in the middle of the 
 road. The mock ghost fled, with his com- 
 panions at his heels, the real spectre chasing 
 them hotly, and the idiot bringing up the rear, 
 shouting at the top of his voice, ' Run, black 
 devil ! catch white devil ! ' 
 
 They were not long in reaching the village, 
 down the street of which they ran faster than 
 they ever had run before. Several of them 
 darted into the smithy, where the blacksmith 
 was scattering the sparks right and left as he 
 hammered away at the witch-resisting horse- 
 shoes, and others fled into the inn, where they 
 startled the gathered company of idle gossips ; 
 but the mock ghost kept on wildly, looking 
 neither to the left nor to the right. The idiot 
 had kept close behind the phantom at the heels 
 of the mock ghost, and when at the end of the 
 village the spectre vanished as suddenly as it
 
 THE CHIVALROUS DEVIL. IOI 
 
 had appeared, the lad ran a little faster and took 
 its place. Of this, however, the white-sheeted 
 young fellow was not aware, and, fearing every 
 moment that the shadow would catch him in 
 its awful embrace, he dashed down a by lane. 
 Before he got very far, however, the idiot, 
 who had gradually been lessening the distance 
 between them, overtook and seized him by the 
 neck. With a terrible cry the rustic fell head- 
 long into the ditch, dragging Gregory with him 
 as he fell. The latter was soon upon his feet, 
 and dancing about the lane as he cried, ' Catch 
 white devil ! catch white devil ! ' The mock 
 ghost, however, lay quiet enough among the 
 nettles. 
 
 Roused by the story told by the affrighted 
 ones who had rushed so unceremoniously into 
 their presence, as well as by the startling cry of 
 ' Run, black devil ! catch white devil ! ' which 
 the idiot had shouted as he sped past the door, 
 several of the topers emerged from their abid- 
 ing place ; and as nothing could be seen of 
 either mock ghost, spectre, or idiot, they bravely 
 determined to go in search of them. As they 
 passed along the road from the village, their 
 attention was attracted by the cries which
 
 102 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 seemed to come from the lonely lane, and 
 somewhat nervously making their way along 
 it, they soon saw the idiot dancing about the 
 side of the ditch. With a sudden access of 
 courage, due to the presence of anything 
 human, however weak, they hurried along, and 
 as they drew nearer, the idiot paused in his 
 gambols, and pointed to the mock ghost, who 
 lay stretched in the shadow of the hedgerow. 
 He was soon carried away to the village, where 
 he lay ill for weeks. 
 
 The kindness of Gregory's mother to the 
 sick lad's parents, who were very poor and 
 could ill afford to provide the necessary com- 
 forts his condition required, caused public 
 feeling to turn in her favour, and those who 
 formerly had been loudest in defaming her 
 became her warmest eulogists. Between the 
 idiot and the young fellow, too, a strange 
 friendship sprang up, and the pair might often 
 be seen passing along the lanes, the idiot 
 chanting his melancholy fragments to the com- 
 panion whose cap he had adorned with wreaths 
 of wild flowers. 
 
 With such a protector the idiot was quite 
 safe, and, indeed, had the village children been
 
 THE CHIVALROUS DEVIL. 1 03 
 
 wishful to torment Gregory, if the presence of 
 this companion had not sufficed to restrain them, 
 they had only to remember that it was in 
 defence of poor Gregory the Evil One himself 
 had raced through the village. 11
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. 
 
 [HERE are few views in the north of 
 England more beautiful than that 
 which is seen from Morecambe, as the 
 spectator looks over the beautiful bay, with 
 its crescent coast-line of nearly fifty miles 
 in extent At low water the dazzling sands, 
 streaked by silvery deceptive channels, stretch 
 to the distant glimmering sea, the music of 
 whose heavings comes but faintly on the gentle 
 breeze ; but at tide-time a magnificent expanse 
 of rolling waves sweeps away to Peel, and is 
 dotted over with red-sailed fishing boats and 
 coasters. Far to the north the huge heather- 
 covered Furness Fells stand sentinel-like over 
 the waters, and above them, dimly seen through 
 the faint blue haze, tower the grand mountains 
 of the magic lake country. The scene is full 
 of a sweet dream-like beauty ; but there are
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. 1 05 
 
 times when the beautiful is swallowed in the 
 majestic, as the mists come creeping over 
 the sea, obscuring the coasts, and hiding 
 everything save the white caps of the waves 
 gleaming in the darkness, through which the 
 muttering diapasons of the wind, as though in 
 deep distress, sound mysteriously ; or when, in 
 winter, the moon is hidden by scudding clouds, 
 and the huge rollers, driven before the breeze, 
 dash themselves to death, as upon the blast 
 come the solemn boom of a signal gun, and 
 the faint cries of those in danger on the deep. 
 
 Years ago, however, before the little village 
 of Poulton changed its name, and began to 
 dream of becoming a watering-place, with ter- 
 races and hotels, instead of the picturesque, 
 tumble-down huts of the fishermen, against 
 which, from time immemorial, the spray had 
 been dashed by the salt breezes, the only 
 people who gazed upon the lovely prospect 
 were, with the exception of an occasional 
 traveller, the families of the toilers of the 
 sea, and the rough-looking men themselves. 
 These hardy fellows, accustomed to a wild 
 life, and whose days from childhood had been 
 spent on or by the sea, loved the deep with as
 
 106 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 much tenderness as a strong man feels towards 
 a weak and wayward maiden, for they were 
 familiar with its every mood, with the sooth- 
 ing wash of its wavelets when the sunbeams 
 kissed the foam-bells, as they died on the white 
 sands, and with the noise of the thunder of the 
 breakers chased up the beach by the roaring 
 gales. 
 
 One evening a number of these men were 
 seated in the cosy kitchen of the John-o'-Gaunt, 
 listening to ' Owd England' as he narrated 
 some of his strange experiences. 
 
 1 1 moind,' said he, ' when I was nobbut a 
 bit of a lad, Turn Grisdale bein' dreawnt ; an' 
 now as we 're tawkin' abeaut th' dangers o' th' 
 sonds, yo '11 mebbi hearken to th' tale. Poor 
 Turn was th' best cockier i' Hest Bank, an' as 
 ust to th' sands as a choilt is to th' face o' its 
 mother ; but for o that he wir dreawnt on 'em 
 after o. I can co to moind yet for young as 
 I wor I're owd enough to think a bit when owt 
 quare happent, an' th' sect o' th' deead bodies 
 th' next ebb wir wi' me day an' neet fur lung 
 afterwart th' day when Turn an' his missis 
 an' th' two lasses seet eawt o' seein' some rela- 
 tions o' th' missis's soide, as livt i' th' Furness
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. 1 07 
 
 country yon, th' owd mon an' th' dowters i' th' 
 shandray, an' th' missis ridin' upo' th' cowt at 
 th' soide. It wir a gradely bonnie afternoon, 
 at th' back eend o' th' year. Th' day as they 
 should o come back wir varra misty ; an' abaat 
 th' edge o' dark, just as here an' theear a leet 
 wir beginnin' to twinkle i' th' windows, an' th' 
 stars to peep aat, th' noise ov a cart comin' 
 crunchin' o'er th' beach tuk mi feyther to th' 
 door. " Why, yon's owd Turn Grisdale cart 
 back ageean," he cried eaut. An' he dartit eawt 
 o' th' dur, an' me after, as fast as I could. A 
 creawd o' folk an' childer soon gathert reawnt, 
 wonderin' what wir up ; but neawt could bi 
 larnt, for though th' lasses as seet eawt, as 
 breet an' bonnie as posies o gillivers, wir theear 
 i' th' shandray, they wir too freetent an' dazed, 
 an' too wake wi' th' weet an' cowd, to say a 
 whord. One thing, however, wir sewer enough, 
 th' owd folk hedn't come back ; an' altho' th' 
 toide then hed covert th' track, an' wir shinin' 
 i' th' moonleet, wheear th' mist could bi sin 
 through, just as if it hedn't mony a Hest Bank 
 mon's life to answer for, a lot o' young cocklers 
 wir for startin' off theear an' then i' search 
 on 'em. Th' owder an' mooar expayrienced,
 
 IO8 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 heawiver, wodn't hear on it. Two lives i' one 
 day wir quoite enough, they said ; so they o 
 waitit till th' ebb, an' then startit, me, loile as 
 i'wir, among th' rest, for mi feyther wir too 
 tekken up i' talking to send me whoam. It 
 wir a sad outin', but it wir loively compaart 
 wi' t' comin' back, for when we tornt toart 
 Hest Bank, th' strongest o' th' lads carriet owd 
 Turn an' his missis, for we hedn't getten far 
 o'er th' sonds afooar we feawnt th' poor owd 
 lass, an' not far off, i' th' deep channel, owd 
 Turn hissel. They wir buriet i' th' owd church- 
 yart, an' one o' th' lasses wir laid aside on 'em, 
 th' freet hevin' bin too mich for her. When 
 t' tother sister recovert a bit, an' could bide 
 to talk abaat it, hoo said as they geet lost i' th' 
 mist, an' th' owd mon left 'em i' th' shandray 
 while he walkt a bit to foind th' channel. 
 When he didn't come back they geet freetent, 
 but t' owd woman wodn't stir fray th' spot till 
 they heeart t' watters comin', an' then they 
 went a bit fur, but could find nowt o' Turn, 
 though they thowt neaw an' then they could 
 heear him sheautin' to 'em. Th' sheawts, 
 heawiver, geet fainter an' fainter, an' at last 
 stopt o' together. Givin' thersels up for lost,
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. 1 09 
 
 they left th' reins to th' mare an' t' cowt. Th' 
 poor owd lass wir quoite daz't at th' absence 
 
 Turn ; an' as th' cowt wir swimmin' across 
 th' channel hoo lost her howd, an' wir carriet 
 away. Th' lasses knew neawt no mooar, th' 
 wench olus said, till th' fowk run deawn to th' 
 cart uppo' th' beach. Hor as wir left, hoo wir 
 olus quare at after ; an' hoo uset to walk alung 
 t' bay at o heawers just at th' toide toime, yo' 
 known, an' it wir pitiful t' heear her when 
 th' woint wir a bit sriller nor usal, sayin' as 
 hoo could heear her owd fayther's voice as he 
 sheauted when hee'd wander't fray 'em an' 
 couldn't foint way to 'em through t' mist. Hoo 
 afterwarts went to sarvice at Lankister, to a 
 place as th' paason fun' for her, i' th' idea o' th' 
 change dooin' her good ; but it worn't lung 
 afooar th' news come as hoo wir i' th' 'sylum, an' 
 
 1 heeart as hoo deed theear some toime after.' 
 
 No sooner had the grey-headed old fisher- 
 man finished his story than one of the auditors 
 said, ' Hoo met weel fancy hoo heeart th' voice 
 ov her fayther, for monnie a neet, an* monnie 
 another hev I heeart that cry mysen. Yo' 
 may stare, bud theear 's mooar saands to be 
 heeard i' th' bay nor some o' yo' lads known
 
 I IO GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 on ; an' I 'm no choilt to be freetent o' bein' 
 i' th' dark. Why nobbut th' neet afooar last I 
 heeart a peal o' bells ringin' under th' watter.' 12 
 There was a moment of surprise, for Roger 
 Heathcote was not a likely man to be a victim 
 to his own fancies, or to be influenced by the 
 superstitions which clung to his fellows. Like 
 the rest of his companions, he had spent the 
 greatest portion of his life away from land ; 
 and either because he possessed keener powers 
 of observation than they, or loved nature 
 more, and therefore watched her more closely, 
 he had gradually added to his store of know- 
 ledge, until he had become the recognised 
 authority on all matters connected with the 
 dangerous calling by which the men-folk of 
 the little colony earned daily bread for their 
 families. As he was by no means addicted to 
 yarns, looks of wonder came over the faces of 
 the listeners ; and in deference to the wishes 
 of Old England, who pressed him as to what 
 he had heard and seen, Roger narrated the 
 adventure embodied in this story. 13 
 
 ***** 
 The fisherman's little boat was dancing 
 lightly on the rippling waters of the bay.
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. I I I 
 
 The night was perfectly calm, the moon 
 shining faintly through a thin mist which 
 rested on the face of the deep. It was nearly 
 midnight, and Roger was thinking of making 
 for home, when he heard the sweet sounds of 
 a peal of bells. Not without astonishment, he 
 endeavoured to ascertain from what quarter 
 the noises came, and, strange and unlikely as 
 it seemed, it appeared that the chimes rang up 
 through the water, upon which, with dreamy 
 motion, his boat was gliding. Bending over 
 the side of the skiff he again heard with singu- 
 lar distinctness the music of the bells pealing 
 in weird beauty. For some time he remained 
 in this attitude, intently listening to the magical 
 music, and when he arose, the mist had cleared 
 off, and the moon was throwing her lovely 
 light upon the waters, and over the distant 
 fells. Instead, however, of beholding a coast 
 with every inch of which he was acquainted, 
 Roger gazed upon a district of which he knew 
 nothing. There were mountains, but they 
 were not those whose rugged outlines were so 
 vividly impressed upon his memory. There 
 was a beach, but it was not the one where his 
 little cottage stood with its light in the window
 
 1 1 2 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 and its background of wind-bent trees. The 
 estuary into which his boat was gliding 
 was not that of the Kent, with its ash and 
 oak-covered crags. Everything seemed unreal, 
 even the streaming moonlight having an un- 
 usual whiteness, and Roger rapidly hoisted his 
 little sails, but they only flapped idly against 
 the mast, as the boat, in obedience to an in- 
 visible and unknown agency, drifted along the 
 mysterious looking river. As the fisherman 
 gazed in helpless wonder, gradually the water 
 narrowed, and in a short time a cove was 
 gained, the boat grating upon the gleaming 
 sand. Roger at once jumped upon the bank, 
 and no sooner had he done so, than a number 
 of little figures clad in green ran towards him 
 from beneath a clump of trees, the foremost of 
 them singing 
 
 To the home of elf and fay, 
 
 To the land of nodding flowers, 
 To the land of Ever Day 
 
 Where all things own the Fay Queen's powers, 
 Mortal come away ! 
 
 and the remainder dancing in circles on the 
 grass, and joining in the refrain 
 
 To the home of elf and fay, 
 To the land of Ever Day, 
 Mortal come away !
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. I I 3 
 
 The song finished, the little fellow who had 
 taken the solo, tripped daintily to Roger, and, 
 with a mock bow, grasped one of the fingers of 
 the fisherman's hand, and stepped away as 
 though anxious to lead him from the water. 
 Assuming that he had come upon a colony 
 of Greenies, and feeling assured that such tiny 
 beings could not injure him, even if anxious to 
 do so, Roger walked on with his conductor, 
 thfe band dancing in a progressing circle in 
 front of them, until a wood was reached, when 
 the dancers broke up the ring and advanced 
 in single file between the trees. The light 
 grew more and more dim, and when the caval- 
 cade reached the entrance to a cavern, Roger 
 could hardly discern the Greenies. Clinging 
 to the little hand of his guide, however, the 
 undaunted fisherman entered the cave, and 
 groped his way down a flight of mossy steps. 
 Suddenly he found himself in a beautiful 
 glade, in which hundreds of little figures 
 closely resembling his escort, and wearing 
 dainty red caps, were disporting themselves 
 and singing 
 
 Moonbeams kissing odorous bowers 
 Light our home amid the flowers ;
 
 I 1 4 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 While our beauteous King and Queen 
 
 Watch us dance on rings of green. 
 Rings of green, rings of green, 
 Dance, dance, dance, on rings of green. 
 
 No sooner had the fisherman entered the 
 glade than the whole party crowded round him, 
 but as they did so a strain of enchanting music 
 was heard, and the little beings hopped away 
 again, and whirled round in a fantastic waltz. 
 Roger himself was so powerfully influenced by 
 the melody that he flung himself into the midst 
 of the dancers, who welcomed him with musical 
 cries, and he capered about until sheer fatigue 
 forced him to sink to rest upon a flowery bank. 
 Here, after watching for a while the graceful 
 gambols of the Greenies, and soothed by the 
 weird music, the sensuous odours, and the 
 dreamy light, he fell into a deep sleep. When 
 he awoke from his slumber the fairies had 
 vanished, and the fisherman felt very hungry. 
 No sooner, however, had he wished for some- 
 thing to eat than on the ground before him 
 there appeared a goodly array of delicacies, of 
 which, without more ado, Roger partook. 
 
 ' I 'm in luck's way here,' he said to himself; 
 'It's not every day of the week I see a full 
 table like this. I should like to know where I
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. 115 
 
 am, though.' As the wish passed his lips he 
 saw before him a beautiful little being, who 
 said in a sweet low voice 
 
 In the land of nodding flowers, 
 
 Where all things own the Fay Queen's powers ! 
 
 The fisherman no sooner saw the exquisite face 
 of the dainty Greenie than he forgot altogether 
 the rosy-cheeked wife at home, and fell hope- 
 lessly over head and ears in love with the sweet 
 vision. Gazing into her beautiful eyes he 
 blurted out, ' I don't care where it is if you are 
 there.' With a smile the queen, for it was 
 indeed the queen, seated herself at his side. 
 ' Dost thou, Mortal, bow to my power ?' asked 
 she. ' Ay, indeed, do I to the forgetfulness 
 of everything but thy bonny face,' answered 
 Roger ; upon which the queen burst into a 
 hearty fit of laughter, so musical, however, that 
 for the life of him the fisherman could not feel 
 angry with her. ' If the king were to hear thee 
 talking thus thou wouldst pay dearly for thy 
 presumption,' said the Fay, as she rose and 
 tripped away to the shadow of the trees. The 
 enraptured Roger endeavoured to overtake 
 her before she reached the oaks, but without 
 success ; and though he wandered through the
 
 I 1 6 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 wood for hours, he did not again catch a 
 glimpse of her. He gained an appetite by 
 the freak however, and no sooner had he wished 
 for food again than dishes of rich viands ap- 
 peared before him. 
 
 ' I wish I could get money at this rate,' said 
 the fisherman, and the words had hardly left 
 his lips when piles of gold ranged themselves 
 within his reach. Roger rapidly filled his 
 pockets with the glittering coins, and even took 
 the shoes from off his feet, and filled them also, 
 and then slung them round his neck by the 
 strings. 
 
 1 Now, if I could but get to my boat,' thought 
 he, 'my fortune would be made/ and accordingly 
 he began to make his way in what he believed 
 to be the direction of the river. He had not 
 proceeded very far, however, when he emerged 
 upon an open space surrounded by tall fox- 
 gloves, 14 in all the beautiful bells of which 
 dreamy-eyed little beings were swinging lazily 
 as the quiet zephyr rocked their perfumed 
 dwellings. Some of the Greenies were quite 
 baby fairies not so large as Roger's hand, but 
 none of them seemed alarmed at the presence 
 of a mortal. A score of larger ones were hard
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. I I 7 
 
 at work upon the sward stitching together 
 moth and butterfly wings for a cloak for their 
 Queen, who, seated upon a mushroom, was 
 smiling approvingly as she witnessed the in- 
 dustry of her subjects. Roger felt a sudden 
 pang as he observed her, for although he was 
 glad once more to behold the marvellous 
 beauty of her face, he was jealous of a dainty 
 dwarf in a burnished suit of beetles' wing cases 
 and with a fantastic peaked cap in which a red 
 feather was coquettishly stuck, for this per- 
 sonage he suspected was the King, and forget- 
 ting his desire to escape with the gold, and at 
 once yielding to his feelings, he flung himself 
 on the luxuriant grass near the little being 
 whose weird loveliness had thrown so strange 
 a glamour over him, and without any thought 
 or fear as to the consequences he at once bent 
 himself and kissed one of her dainty sandalled 
 feet No sooner had he performed this rash 
 act of devotion than numberless blows fell upon 
 him from all sides, but he was unable to see 
 any of the beings by whom he was struck. 
 Instinctively the fisherman flung his huge fists 
 about wildly, but without hitting any of the 
 invisible Greenies, whose tantalising blows con-
 
 Il8 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 tinued to fall upon him. At length, however, 
 wearying of the fruitless contest, he roared out, 
 * I wish I were safe in my boat in the bay,' 
 and almost instantaneously he found himself in 
 the little skiff, which was stranded high and 
 dry upon the Poulton beach. The shoes which 
 he had so recently filled with glittering pieces 
 of gold and suspended round his neck were 
 again upon his feet, his pockets were as empty 
 as they were when he had put out to sea some 
 hours before, and somewhat dubious and very 
 disgusted, in a few minutes he had crept off to 
 
 bed. 
 
 ***** 
 
 When the strange tale of the fisherman's 
 wonderful adventure with the hill folk was 
 ended, the unbelievers did not hesitate to in- 
 sinuate that Roger had not been out in the bay 
 at all, and that the land of nodding flowers 
 might be found by anyone who stayed as long 
 and chalked up as large a score at the John-o'- 
 Gaunt as he had done on the night when he 
 heard the submerged bells and had so unusual 
 a catch. 
 
 Others, however, being less sceptical, many 
 were the little boats that afterwards went on
 
 THE ENCHANTED FISHERMAN. I 19 
 
 unsuccessful voyages in search of the mysteri- 
 ous estuary and the colony of Greenies, and a 
 year afterwards, when a sudden gale swept 
 over the restless face of the deep and cast 
 Roger's boat bottom upwards upon the sandy 
 beach, many believed that the fisherman had 
 again found the land of Ever Day.
 
 THE SANDS OF COCKER. 
 
 [HE quiet little village of Cockerham is 
 hardly the spot one would expect to 
 find selected as a place of residence 
 by a gentleman of decidedly fast habits, and to 
 whom a latch-key is indispensable ; yet once 
 upon a time the Evil One himself, it is said, 
 took up his quarters in the go- to -bed- early 
 hamlet. It hardly need be stated that the 
 undesirable resident caused no small stir in the 
 hitherto drowsy little place. Night after night 
 he prowled about with clanking chains, and shed 
 an unpleasantly-suggestive odour of sulphur, 
 that rose to the diamond- paned windows and 
 crept through cracks and chinks to the nasal 
 organs of the horrified villagers, who had been 
 disturbed by the ringing of the Satanic brace- 
 lets, and, fearing to sleep whilst there was so
 
 THE SANDS OF COCKER. I 2 I 
 
 strong a smell of brimstone about, lay awake, 
 thinking of the sins they had committed, or 
 intended to commit if they escaped ' Old 
 Skrat.' 
 
 Before the wandering perfumer had thus, 
 above a score of times, gratuitously fumigated 
 the villagers, a number of the more daring 
 ones, whose courage rose when they found that 
 after all they were not flown away with, re- 
 solved that they would have a meeting, at 
 which the unjustifiable conduct of a certain 
 individual should be discussed, and means be 
 devised of ridding the village of his odoriferous 
 presence. In accordance with this determina- 
 tion, a gathering was announced for noonday, 
 for the promoters of the movement did not 
 dare to assemble after sunset to discuss such a 
 subject. After a few cursory remarks from the 
 chairman, and a long and desultory discussion 
 as to the best way of getting rid of the self- 
 appointed night watchman, it was settled that 
 the schoolmaster, as the most learned man in 
 the place, should be the deputation, and have 
 all the honour and profit of an interview with 
 the nocturnal rambler. 
 
 Strange as it may appear, the pedagogue
 
 122 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 was nothing loath to accept the office, for if 
 there was one thing more than another for 
 which he had longed, it was an opportunity of 
 immortalising himself; the daily round of life 
 in the village certainly affording but few chances 
 of winning deathless fame. He therefore at 
 once agreed to take all the risks if he might 
 also have all the glory. Not that he purposed 
 to go to the Devil ; no, the mountain should 
 come to Mahomet ; the Evil One should have 
 the trouble of coming to him. 
 
 His determination was loudly applauded by 
 the assembled villagers, each of whom con- 
 gratulated himself upon an escape from the 
 dangerous, if noble, task of ridding the place 
 of an intolerable nuisance. 
 
 There was no time to be lost, and a night or 
 two afterwards, no sooner had the clock struck 
 twelve, than the schoolmaster, who held a 
 branch of ash and a bunch of vervain in his 
 hand, chalked the conventional circle 15 upon 
 the floor of his dwelling, stepped within it, and 
 in a trembling voice began to repeat the Lord's 
 Prayer backwards. When he had muttered 
 about half of the spell thunder began to roar in 
 the distance ; rain splashed on the roof, and
 
 THE SANDS OF COCKER. i 123 
 
 ran in streams from the eaves ; a gust of wind 
 moaned round the house, rattling the loose 
 leaded panes, shaking the doors, and scattering 
 the embers upon the hearth. At the same 
 time the solitary light, which had begun to 
 burn a pale and ghastly blue, was suddenly 
 extinguished, as though by an invisible hand ; 
 but the terrified schoolmaster was not long 
 left in darkness, for a vivid flash of lightning 
 illuminated the little chamber, and almost 
 blinded the would-be necromancer, who tried 
 to gabble a prayer in the orthodox manner, 
 but his tongue refused to perform its office, 
 and clave to the roof of his mouth. 
 
 At that moment, could he have made his 
 escape, he would willingly have given to the 
 first comer all the glory he had panted to 
 achieve ; but even had he dared to leave the 
 magic circle, there was not time to do so, for 
 almost immediately there was a second blast of 
 wind, before which the trees bent like blades of 
 grass, a second flash lighted up the room, a 
 terrible crash of thunder shook the house 
 to its foundations, and, as a number of evil 
 birds, uttering doleful cries, dashed themselves 
 through the window, the door burst Open, and
 
 124 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 the schoolmaster felt that he was no longer 
 alone. 
 
 An instantaneous silence, dreadful by reason 
 of the contrast, followed, and the moon peeped 
 out between the driving clouds and threw its 
 light into the chamber. The birds perched 
 themselves upon the window sill and ceased to 
 cry, and with fiery-looking eyes peered into 
 the room, and suddenly the trembling amateur 
 saw the face of the dark gentleman whose 
 presence only a few minutes before he had so 
 eagerly desired. 
 
 Overpowered by the sight, his knees refused 
 to bear him up, what little hair had not been 
 removed from his head by the stupidity of 
 the rising generation stood on end, and with a 
 miserable groan he sank upon his hands and 
 knees, but, fortunately for himself, within the 
 magic ring, round which the Evil One was 
 running rapidly. How long this gratuitous 
 gymnastic entertainment continued he knew 
 not, for he was not in a state of mind to judge 
 of the duration of time, but it seemed an age 
 to the unwilling observer, who, afraid of having 
 the Devil behind him, and yielding to a mys- 
 terious mesmeric influence, endeavoured, by
 
 THE SANDS OF COCKER. ; 125 
 
 crawling round backward, to keep the enemy's 
 face in front. At length, however, the saltatory 
 fiend asked in a shrill and unpleasant voice, 
 
 ' Rash fool, what wantest thou with me ? 
 Couldst thou not wait until in the ultimate 
 and proper course of things we had met ?' 
 
 Terrified beyond measure not only at the 
 nature of the pertinent question, but also by 
 the insinuation and the piercing and horrible 
 tone in which it was spoken, the tenant of the 
 circle knew not what reply to make, and merely 
 stammered and stuttered 
 
 ' Good Old Nick, 16 go away for ever, and' 
 
 ' Take thee with me,' interrupted the Satanic 
 one quickly. ' Even so ; such is my intent.' 
 
 Upon this the poor wretch cried aloud in 
 terror, and again the Evil One began to hop 
 round and round and round the ring, evidently 
 in the hope of catching a part of the body of 
 the occupant projecting over the chalk mark. 
 
 ' Is there no escape/ plaintively asked the 
 victim in his extremity, ' is there no escape ?' 
 
 Upon this Old Nick suddenly stopped his 
 gambols and quietly said, 
 
 ' Three chances of escape shalt thou have, 17 
 but if thou failest, then there is no appeal.
 
 126 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 Set me three tasks, and if I cannot perform 
 any one of them, then art thou free.' 
 
 There was a glimmer of hope in this, and the 
 shivering necromancer brightened up a little, 
 actually rising from his ignoble position and 
 once more standing erect, as he gleefully said, 
 
 ' I agree.' 
 
 * Ah, ah,' said the Evil One sotto voce. 
 
 ' Count the raindrops on the hedgerows from 
 here to Ellel,' cried the schoolmaster. 
 
 'Thirteen,' immediately answered Satan, 'the 
 wind I raised when I came shook all the others 
 off.' 
 
 ' One chance gone,' said the wizard, whose 
 knees again began to manifest signs of weak- 
 ness. 
 
 There was a short pause, the schoolmaster 
 evidently taking time to consider, for, after all, 
 life, even in a place like Cockerham, was sweet 
 in comparison with what might be expected in 
 the society of the odoriferous one whose mirth 
 was so decidedly ill-timed and unmusical. The 
 silence was not of long continuance, however, 
 for the Evil One began to fear that a detest- 
 ably early cock might crow, and thereby rescue 
 the trembling one from his clutches. In his
 
 THE SANDS OF COCKER. 1 2 7 
 
 impatience, therefore, he knocked upon the 
 floor with his cloven hoof and whistled loudly, 
 after the manner followed now-a-days by dirty 
 little patrons of the drama, perched high in 
 the gallery of a twopenny theatre, and again 
 danced rapidly round the ring in what the 
 tenant deemed unnecessary proximity to the 
 chalk mark. 
 
 * Count the ears of corn in old Tithepig's 
 field,' suddenly cried the schoolmaster. 
 
 ' Three millions and twenty-six,' at once 
 answered Satan. 
 
 ' I have no way of checking it,' moaned the 
 pedagogue. 
 
 'Ah, ah,' bellowed the fiend, who now, 
 instead of hopping round the ring, capered in 
 high glee about the chamber. 
 
 ' Ho, ho!' laughed the schoolmaster, ' I have 
 it! Here it is! Ho, ho! Twist a rope of 
 sand 18 and wash it in the river Cocker without 
 losing a grain.' 
 
 The Evil One stepped out of the house, to 
 the great relief of its occupier, who at once felt 
 that the atmosphere was purer ; but in a few 
 minutes he returned with the required rope of 
 sand.
 
 I 28 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' Come along/ said he, 'and see it washed.' 
 And he swung it over his shoulder, and stepped 
 into the lane. 
 
 In the excitement of the moment the wizard 
 had almost involuntarily stepped out of the 
 magic circle, when suddenly he bethought him- 
 self of the danger, and drily said 
 
 ' Thank you ; I '11 wait here. By the light 
 of the moon I can see you wash it.' 
 
 The baffled fiend, without more ado, stepped 
 across to the rippling streamlet, and dipped 
 the rope into the water, but when he drew it 
 out he gave utterance to a shout of rage and 
 disappointment, for half of it had been washed 
 away. 
 
 ' Hurrah!' shouted the schoolmaster. 'Cocker- 
 ham against the world !' And as in his joy he 
 jumped out of the ring, the Evil One, instead 
 of seizing him, in one stride crossed Pilling 
 Moss and Broadfleet, and vanished, and from 
 that night to the present day Cockerham has 
 been quite free from Satanic visits. 19
 
 THE SILVER TOKEN. 
 
 JELIEVE i' Fairies ? ' Ay, that I do, 
 though I never clapped mi een on 
 ' em/ said old Nancy to a group of 
 gaping listeners seated by the farm-house 
 kitchen fire. 
 
 ' That 's quare/ remarked a sceptical young 
 woman in the ingle nook. 
 
 Old Nancy gave her a scornful glance, and 
 then went on : 
 
 ' I never see'd a fairy as I know on, but I 
 used to sarve one on 'em wi' milk. Yo' mor 
 stare ; but th' way on it wir this. I wir at mi 
 wark i' th' dairy one day, abaat th' edge o' dark, 
 when o ov a suddent a loile jug clapt itsel daan 
 afooar mi on th' stooan. Yo' may be sure I 
 wir fair capt, for wheear it come fray, or heaw 
 it geet theear, I couldn't mek aat. I stoopt 
 mi daan to pike howd on it, and it met a' bin 
 9
 
 I3O GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 silver, it wir that breet and bonnie ; but it wir 
 as leet as a feather, an' I couldn't tell what it 
 wir med on. I wir baan to set it o' th' stooan 
 again, when I seed at a new sixpenny bit hed 
 bin put theer wi' it, so it struck mi as milk wir 
 wantit. Accortingly I fillt th' jug and sect it 
 daan again, an' welly as soon as I'd clapt it 
 wheear I fun' it, it up an' whipt eaut o' seet. 
 Well I thowt it meeterly quare, bud I 'd heeard 
 mi feyther say, monny an' monny a toime, as 
 thuse as geet fairy brass gin 'em should tell 
 nubry, so I kept it to mysen, though I'd hard 
 wark, yo' may be sure. Every neet th' jug an' 
 th' sixpenny bit clapt theirsens o' th' stooan as 
 reglar as milkin' toime, an' I fillt th' jug and 
 piked up th' brass. At last, ha'ever, I thowt 
 happen no lumber could come on it if I towd 
 nobbut one, so when Roger theear and me 
 settlet a beein wed I towd him what sooart ov 
 a nest-egg I'd getten so quarely. Mi feyther 
 wir reet, ha'ever, for th' next neet nayther jug 
 nor th' sixpenny bit showed thersels, an' fray 
 that day to this I've sin no mooar on 'em, an' 
 it's ower forty year sin I piked up th' last 
 brass. 3
 
 THE HEADLESS WOMAN. 
 
 (BE AWT HEEOD.) 
 
 T was near upon twelve when Gabriel 
 Fisher bade good night to the as- 
 sembled roysterers who were singing 
 and shouting in the kitchen of the White Bull, 
 at Longridge, and, turning his back to the cosy 
 hearth, upon which a huge log was burning, 
 emerged into the moonlit road. With his dog 
 Trotty close at his heels, he struck out manfully 
 towards Tootal Height and Thornley, for he 
 had a long and lonely walk before him. It 
 was a clear and frosty night, but occasionally a 
 light cloud sailed across the heavens, and ob- 
 scured the moon. Rapidly passing between 
 the two rows of cottages which constituted the 
 little straggling village, his footsteps ringing 
 upon the frozen ground, Gabriel made for the 
 fells, and, as he hurried along, he hummed to 
 himself a line of the last song he had heard,
 
 I $2 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 and now and again burst into a fit of laughter 
 as he remembered a humorous story told by 
 ' Owd Shuffler.' When he reached the highest 
 point of the road whence he could see the 
 beautiful Chipping valley, a soft breeze was 
 whispering among the fir-trees, with that faint 
 rustle suggestive of the gentle fall of waves 
 upon a beach. Here and there a little white 
 farm-house or labourer's cottage was gleaming 
 in the moonlight, but the inmates had been 
 asleep for hours. There was an air of lone- 
 liness and mystery over everything ; and 
 though Gabriel would have scorned to admit 
 that he was afraid of anything living or dead, 
 before he had passed out of the shadow of the 
 weird-looking melodious branches he found 
 himself wishing for other company than that of 
 his dog. He suddenly remembered, too, with 
 no access of pleasurable feelings, that on the 
 previous day he had seen a solitary magpie, 
 and all sorts of stories of * Banister Dolls' 
 and 'Jinny Greenteeths,' with which his youth- 
 ful soul had been carefully harrowed, came 
 across his mind. He tried to laugh at these 
 recollections, but the attempt was by no means 
 a successful one, and he gave expression to a
 
 THE HEADLESS WOMAN. 133 
 
 hearty wish that Kemple End were not quite 
 so far off. 
 
 Just then a sharp shrill cry fell upon his 
 ear, and then another and another. ' Th' 
 Gabriel Ratchets,' 33 he shouted, 'what's abaat 
 to happen ?' The cries were not repeated, 
 however, and he went on, but when he reached 
 the peak of the fell, and gazed before him into 
 the deep shade of a plantation, he could not 
 repress a slight shudder, for he fancied that 
 he saw something moving at a distance. He 
 paused for a moment or two to assure himself, 
 and then went on again slowly, his heart 
 throbbing violently as he lessened the space 
 between the moving object and himself. The 
 dog, as though equally influenced by similar 
 feelings, crept behind him in a suspicious and 
 terrified manner. 
 
 ' It's nobbut a woman,' said he, somewhat 
 re-assured ; ' it 's a woman sewerly. Mebbee 
 someburry's badly, an' hoo's gooin' for help. 
 Come on, Trotty, mon.' 
 
 So saying, he quickened his pace, the dog 
 hanging behind, until he approached almost 
 close to the figure, when, with a wild howl, 
 away Trotty fled down the hillside. As Gabriel
 
 134 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 drew still closer, he saw that the object wore a 
 long light cloak and hood, and a large coal- 
 scuttle bonnet ; and surprised to find that the 
 sound of his footsteps did not cause her to turn 
 to see who was following, he called out : 
 
 'It's a bonny neet, Missis; bud yo're aat 
 rayther late, arn't yo' ?' 
 
 ' It is very fine,' answered the woman, in a 
 voice which Gabriel thought was the sweetest 
 he had ever heard, but without turning towards 
 him as she spoke. 
 
 'Summat wrong at your fowk's, happen ?' he 
 asked, anxious to prolong the talk. There was 
 no reply to this, though, and Gabriel knew not 
 what to think, for the silent dame, although she 
 declined to reply, continued to keep pace with 
 him, and to walk at his side. Was it some one 
 who had no business to be out at that hour, 
 and who did not wish to be recognised, he 
 wondered ? But if so, thought he, why did 
 she continue to march in a line with him ? 
 The voice, certainly, was that of one of a 
 different rank to his own ; but, on the other 
 hand, he reflected, if she were one of the 
 gentle folks, why the cottager's cloak and 
 bonnet, and the huge market basket ? These
 
 THE HEADLESS WOMAN. 137 
 
 conjectures crossed his brain in rapid succes- 
 sion ; and influenced by the last one that as 
 to his companion's clothing he determined 
 again to address her. 
 
 ' Yo' met a left yir tung at whoam, Missis,' 
 said he, ' sin' yo' connot answer a civil mon.' 
 
 This taunt, however, like the direct query, 
 failed to provoke an answer, although the 
 startled Gabriel could have sworn that a 
 smothered laugh came from beneath the white 
 cloth which covered the contents of the basket. 
 ' Let me carry yer baskit,' said he ; 'it's heavy 
 for yo'.' 
 
 Without a word, the woman held it out to 
 him ; but, as Gabriel grasped the handle, a 
 voice, which sounded as though the mouth of 
 the speaker were close to his hand, slowly said : 
 
 ' You're very kind, I'm sure ;' and then there 
 came from the same quarter a silvery peal of 
 laughter. 
 
 * What i' th' warld can it be ?' said Gabriel, as 
 without more ado he let the basket fall to the 
 ground. He did not remain in ignorance very 
 long, however, for, as the white cloth slipped 
 off, a human head, with fixed eyes, rolled out. 
 'Th' yedless boggart!' cried he, as the figure
 
 138 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 turned to pick up the head, and revealed to 
 him an empty bonnet, and away he fled down 
 the hill, fear lending him speed. He had not 
 run far, however, before he heard a clatter of 
 feet on the hard road behind him ; but Gabriel 
 was one of the fleetest lads about the fells, and 
 the sight he had just seen was calculated to 
 bring out all his powers ; so the sound did 
 not grow louder, but just as he turned into 
 the old Chaighley Road, the head, thrown by 
 the boggart, came whizzing past in unpleasant 
 proximity to his own, and went rolling along 
 in front of him. For a second or two Gabriel 
 hesitated what to do, the headless woman be- 
 hind and the equally terrible head in front ; 
 but it did not take long to decide, and he went 
 forward with renewed vigour, thinking to pass 
 the dreadful thing rapidly rolling along in 
 advance of him. No sooner was he near to it, 
 however, than, with an impish laugh, which 
 rang in his ears for days afterwards, the ghastly 
 object diverged from its course and rolled in 
 his way. With a sudden and instinctive bound, 
 he leaped over it ; and as he did so the head 
 jumped from the ground and snapped at his 
 feet, the teeth striking together with a dread-
 
 THE HEADLESS WOMAN. 139 
 
 fully suggestive clash. Gabriel was too quick 
 for it, however, but for some distance he heard 
 with horrible distinctness the clattering of the 
 woman's feet and the banging of the head upon 
 the road behind him. 
 
 Gradually the sounds grew fainter as he 
 speeded along, and at length, after he had 
 crossed a little stream of water which trickled 
 across the lane from a fern-covered spring in 
 the fell side, the sounds ceased altogether. 
 The runner, however, did not pause to take 
 breath until he had reached his home and 
 had crept beneath the blankets, the trembling 
 Trotty, whom he found crouched in terror at 
 the door of the cottage, skulking upstairs at 
 his heels and taking refuge under the bed. 
 
 ' I olus said as tha'd be seein' a feeorin wi' 
 thi stoppin' aat o' neets,' remarked his spouse 
 after he had narrated his adventure ; ' bud if it 
 nobbut meks tha fain o' thi own haath-stooan 
 I'se be some glad on it, for it's moor nor a 
 woman wi' a heead on her shoothers hes bin 
 able to do.' 20
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. 
 
 [ROM one corner of Ribbleton Moor, 
 the scene of Cromwell's victory over 
 Langdale, there is as lovely a view 
 as ever painter dreamed of. Far below the 
 spectator the Ribble sweeps almost in a circle 
 beneath the scars which, by the action of years 
 of this washing, have been scooped out so as 
 to form a large precipice, under which the 
 waters flow, marking out in their course the 
 great 'horse-shoe meadow,' with its fringe of 
 shining sand. The peaceful valley through 
 which the river, reflecting in its moving bosom 
 the overhanging many-tinted woods and cliffs, 
 meanders on its way to the sea, is bounded 
 afar-off by noble hills, the whale-like Pendle 
 towering in majestic grandeur above the rest. 
 From the moor a rough and stony lane winds 
 down the wooded hillside, past a beautiful
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. 14! 
 
 old half-timbered house down to the dusty 
 highway and the bridge over the Belisamia 
 of the Romans. The beautiful river, with its 
 tremulous earth and sky pictures, the meadows 
 and corn-fields whence come now and again 
 the laugh and song of the red-faced mowers 
 and reapers, the clearly-defined roads and 
 white farm-houses, the spires of distant hillside 
 churches, and the rich green of the waving 
 woods, make up an enchanting picture. When 
 night comes, however, and the lovely stars 
 peep out, and the crescent moon casts her 
 glamour over the dreaming earth, and half- 
 hidden in a dimly transparent veil of shimmer- 
 ing mist the Ribble glides as gently as though 
 it had paused to listen to its own melody, a 
 still deeper loveliness falls upon the dreaming 
 landscape, over which the very genius of beauty 
 seems to hover silently with outspread wings. 
 
 At such a time, when moon and stars threw 
 a faint and mysterious light over thej, sleeping 
 woods, and not a sound, save the cry of a rest- 
 less bird, broke the silence, a young countryman 
 made his way rapidly across the horse-shoe 
 meadow to the bend of the stream under Red 
 Scar.
 
 142 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 It was not to admire the beautiful scenery, 
 however, that Reuben Oswaldwistle was cross- 
 ing the dew-besprinkled field, over which faint 
 odours of hay were wafted by a gentle breeze. 
 The sturdy young fellow was too practical to 
 yield entirely to such an influence, and although 
 he was by no means unlearned in the traditions 
 and stories of the neighbourhood, long famili- 
 arity had taught him to look upon the land- 
 scape with the eye of a farmer. He was simply 
 about to practise the gentle art in the hope of 
 beguiling a few stray ' snigs' for dinner on the 
 following day. Still the scene in all its glamour 
 of moonlight and peace was not powerless even 
 upon his rude nature ; so, after setting his lines, 
 he took out a little black pipe, filled it from a 
 capacious moleskin pouch, and after lighting 
 the fragrant weed, gave way to a train of dis- 
 connected fancies past, present, and future 
 mingling strangely in his reverie. 
 
 What with the rustling of the leaves over- 
 head, the musical rippling of the river as it 
 danced over the stones on its way to the sea, 
 and the soothing effect of the tobacco, Reuben 
 was beginning to doze, when suddenly he fancied 
 he heard the sound of a light footstep in the
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. 143 
 
 grass behind him. Turning round somewhat 
 drowsily, he beheld a little figure of about a 
 span high, clad in green, and wearing a dainty 
 red cap, struggling along under the load of a 
 flat-topped mushroom much larger than itself. 
 After having more than once fallen with its 
 load, the dwarf cried out in a sweet, faint voice, 
 ' Dewdrop, Dewdrop !' and no sooner had the 
 sound died into silence than another little fellow, 
 who evidently answered to the pretty name, 
 came tripping from the shadow of a hawthorn. 
 
 'What's the matter, Moonbeam?' said the 
 new-comer, cheerily. 
 
 ' This table is too much for me,' answered 
 the labourer whom Reuben had seen first, ' and 
 if the king's dinner is not ready to a minute he 
 will have me stung. Help me with this load, 
 there's a good sort.' 
 
 Without any more ado Dewdrop came for- 
 ward and the tiny pair put their shoulders 
 beneath the load and marched off. They did 
 not bear it very far, however, for the astonished 
 Reuben simply stretched himself at full length 
 on the grass and again was quite close to them. 
 
 The two dots stopped when they came to a 
 hole, into which they at once stuck the stem of
 
 144 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 the mushroom. Moonbeam then took from 
 his pocket a butterfly's wing, which served him 
 as a handkerchief, and wiping his forehead as 
 he spoke, he said : 
 
 ' I 'm about tired of this. Every night the 
 table is stolen, Dewdrop, and I Ve to find a 
 new one for each dinner, and no thanks for it 
 either. What has come of late over the king 
 I am at a loss to imagine, for he has done 
 nothing but have me stung. I shall emigrate 
 if this continues, that's all.' 
 
 ' So would I,' answered the other little fellow, 
 ' if Blue-eyes would go also, but I can't leave 
 her.' 
 
 After a hearty peal of laughter, during which 
 he had held his shaking sides, Moonbeam 
 shouted 
 
 ' Why, my dear innocent, if you went she 
 would be after you in a trice. I remember 
 that when I was as guileless as you I fell in 
 love with Ravenhair, the daughter of old Pig- 
 ear. She treated me just as Blue-eyes uses 
 you, but when, in a fit of jealous rage, I began 
 to pay delicate attentions to Jasmine, the tables 
 soon were turned, and one evening, as I was 
 dozing in a flower cup, I heard some one call
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. 145 
 
 me, and peeping out of my chamber, I saw the 
 once scornful Ravenhair weeping at the foot of 
 the stalk. No sooner did she catch a glimpse 
 of the tip of my nightcap than in piteous tones, 
 that went straight to my heart, she cried out, 
 " Dearest Moony, let me come up and" . But, 
 hush! wasn't that the dinner gong ?' 
 
 The pair listened intently as over the grass 
 came the solemn hum of a bee. 
 
 1 1 'm in for it/ said the fairy whose tale had 
 been so suddenly interrupted ; ' there 's the first 
 bell, and I haven't got even the table set.' 
 
 The pair darted off, and tripping away into 
 the shade of the hawthorn, they were for a 
 moment or two lost to the sight of the wonder- 
 ing Reuben, but they soon returned, each bear- 
 ing a dish and cover made of a little pearl shell. 
 These they placed upon the mushroom, and 
 away they scudded, again to return in a minute 
 with another load. In an incredibly short space 
 of time the table was set out with a goodly 
 array of tiny dishes and plates. 
 
 Once more the hum of the bee was heard 
 
 booming over the grass, and from the shadow 
 
 of the tree there emerged a dainty being whose 
 
 attire glittered in the moonlight, and whose 
 
 10
 
 146 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 step was like that of a proud monarch. He was 
 clad in a many-hued coat made of wings of 
 dragon flies, a green vest cut from a downy 
 mouse-ear leaf, and with buttons of buttercup 
 buds ; little knee-breeches of fine-spun silk dyed 
 in the juice of a whinberry, stockings of cobweb, 
 and shoes of shining beetle case ; his shirt, 
 which was as white as falling snow, had been 
 cut from convolvulus flowers ere they had 
 opened to the light ; and his hat, a gem of a 
 thing fit only for a fairy, was of red poppy, with 
 a waving white feather, and a band of fur from 
 a caterpillar. He led by the hand another per- 
 sonage, equally daintily dressed, but of a higher 
 order of loveliness, with a pale oval face, and 
 dreamy-looking eyes, gleaming like the sea 
 when the moon and stars are bending over its 
 bosom, and the wind is whispering its sad 
 secrets. Her hair was golden, and rippled 
 almost to her exquisite feet, and over it she 
 wore a blue cornflower wreath, with diamond 
 dewdrops here and there amid the leaves. 
 Her dress was of damask rose leaves looped up 
 with myosotis. 
 
 The grass hardly bent beneath her, . so 
 daintily did she trip along, just touching the
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. 147 
 
 tips of the fingers of the hand the king extended 
 to her. Following this royal pair came a group 
 of gaily-clad attendants, and a band discoursing 
 sweet sounds, the deep bass of bees harmonis- 
 ing happily with the barytone of a beetle and 
 the crescendo chirp of a cricket. 
 
 With a loud flourish from the musicians all 
 took their places at the festive mushroom, and 
 the banquet began. The dishes were suffi- 
 ciently various to tempt even an anchorite to 
 excess, for all the delicacies of the season 
 were there. Ladybird soup, baked stickleback, 
 roasted leg of nightingale, boiled shoulder of 
 frog with cranberry sauce, wild strawberry tarts, 
 and numerous kinds of fruits and juices, made 
 up a dainty repast, of which king, queen, and 
 courtiers partook heartily. The band, the 
 members of which were perched in the swing- 
 ing flowers of a foxglove close by, played lustily 
 during the feast. 
 
 1 For once,' said the king, ' for once and let 
 the circumstance be remembered when the 
 annals of our reign are written a day hath 
 passed without anything having annoyed our 
 royal self, without anything unpleasant having 
 happened in our royal presence, and without
 
 148 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 anything having disagreed with our royal 
 stomach.' 
 
 No sooner had these words passed the royal 
 lips, however, than the queen gave a faint 
 shriek, and cried out 
 
 ' My love, there is not a drop of my chick- 
 weed wine on the table.' 
 
 A dark cloud passed over the monarch's 
 face as he angrily shouted 
 
 ' Methinks we were congratulating our royal 
 self somewhat too early in the day. Bring 
 hither the rascally Moonbeam and bid the 
 executioners attend for orders.' 
 
 One of the courtiers, with an alacrity marvel- 
 lously resembling that of beings of a larger 
 growth, rushed out, and speedily returned with 
 the unfortunate dependant, who at once flung 
 himself on the ground before the angry king 
 and begged to be forgiven. What result might 
 have followed these prayers is uncertain, for, 
 unfortunately, the suppliant's tears fell upon 
 one of the monarch's shoes and dimmed its 
 lustre. 
 
 ' Bring hither the executioners and their 
 instruments,' roared the infuriated king, and 
 almost immediately a couple of sturdy little
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. 149 
 
 fellows appeared leading by a chain two large 
 wasps. 
 
 ' Do your disreputable work !' shouted the 
 monarch. 
 
 The executioners seized Moonbeam, fastened 
 him to a stake, and pressed a wasp against him. 
 The insect instantly stung him, and the miser- 
 able little fellow howled with pain. 
 
 ' Take him away,' cried the queen ; ' we 
 don't want whine of that kind.' 
 
 'What a wretched pun!' involuntarily said 
 Moonbeam, as they were dragging him from 
 the royal presence. 
 
 ' Bring the villain back,' roared the King ; 
 ' bring him back, and sting him until he is less 
 critical.' 
 
 ' If tha hez him stung ageeon,' interrupted 
 the indignant Reuben, who in his excitement 
 had gradually crept nearer to the royal table, 
 ' I '11 knock thi proud little heeod off, chuz who 
 tha art.' 
 
 Neither the king or the executioners, how- 
 ever, took the slightest notice of the warning, 
 so, as the latter were once more forcing the 
 unhappy Moonbeam against the other wasp, 
 down came a huge fist upon the royal head.
 
 I 50 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' Theer,' said the fisherman, exultingly, ' I 
 towd tha, didn't I, bud tha wouldn't tek wernin'. 
 Tha'rt on't' penitent form bi this time, I daat.' 
 
 Lifting up his hand, however, what was the 
 surprise of the wondering Reuben to find only 
 a little crushed grass under it. King, Queen, 
 courtiers, Moonbeam, executioners, and wasps, 
 all had vanished, and even the band, whose 
 humming and droning he had heard so dis- 
 tinctly during the whole banquet, no longer 
 broke the silence. 
 
 'Well,' said the fisherman, 'that's a capper, 
 in o mi born days. I see 'em as plain as a 
 pikestaff. Th' last day connot be far off, I 'm 
 sewer. Bud I'll hev th' tabble, at onny rate, 
 beawt axin.' And, so saying, he took posses- 
 sion of the huge mushroom, and after hurriedly 
 gathering up his lines, he wended his way 
 across the meadow to his little cottage by the 
 high road, and arrived there, he narrated to his 
 drowsy wife the story of the banquet. 
 
 ' Drat th' fairies, an' thee, too, wi' thi gawm- 
 less tales,' said his sceptical helpmate, ' I 
 wondered what hed getten tha. Tha's bin 
 asleep for hours i' th' meadow istid a lookin' 
 after th' fish. Tha never seed a fairy i' thi life.
 
 THE RESCUE OF MOONBEAM. I 5 I 
 
 Tha'rt nod hauve sharp enough, clivver as tha 
 art i' owt as is awkurt.' There was a short 
 pause after this sally, and then the sly Reuben 
 drily answered 
 
 1 Yoy, I Ve sin a fairy monny an' monny a 
 time. Olus when I used to come a cooartin' 
 to thi moather's. Bud tha 'r nod mich like a 
 fairy neaw, tha 'st autert terbly. Tha Vt too 
 thrivin' lookinV 
 
 ' Be off wi' thi fawseness/ said the pleased 
 woman ; ' tha 'd ollus a desayvin tung i' thi 
 heead ;' and then after a drowsy pause as she 
 was dosing to sleep ; ' but for o that I '11 mek a 
 soop o' good catsup out o' thi fairy tabble.'
 
 THE WHITE DOBBIE. 
 
 ANY years ago, long before the lovely 
 Furness district was invaded by the 
 genius of steam, the villagers along 
 the coast from Bardsea to Rampside were 
 haunted by a wandering being whose errand, 
 the purpose of which could never be learned, 
 used to bring him at night along the lonely 
 roads and past the straggling cottages. This 
 pilgrim was a wearied, emaciated-looking man, 
 on whose worn and wan face the sorrows 
 of life had left deep traces, and in whose 
 feverish, hungry-looking eyes, mystery and 
 terror seemed to lurk. Nobody knew the 
 order of his coming or going, for he neither 
 addressed anyone, nor replied if spoken to, but 
 disregarded alike the ' good neet ' of the tramp 
 who knew him not, and the startled cry of the 
 belated villager who came suddenly upon him
 
 THE WHITE BOBBIE. 153 
 
 at a turn of the road. Never stopping even 
 for a minute to gaze through the panes whence 
 streamed the ruddy glow of the wood fires, and 
 to envy the dwellers in the cosy cottages, he 
 kept on his way, as though his mission was one 
 of life and death, and, therefore, would not 
 brook delay. 
 
 On wild wintry nights, however, when the 
 salt wind whirled the foam across the bay, and 
 dashed the blinding snow into heaps upon the 
 window-sills and against the cottage doors, and 
 darkness and storm spread their sombre wings 
 over the coast, then was it certain that the 
 mysterious being would be seen, for observa- 
 tion had taught the villagers and the dwellers 
 in solitary houses along the lonely roads 
 between the fishing hamlets that in storm and 
 darkness the weird voyager was most likely to 
 appear. 
 
 At such times, when the sound of footsteps, 
 muffled by the snow, was heard between the 
 soughs and moans of the wailing wind, the 
 women cried, ' Heaven save us ; 'tis th' White 
 Dobbie,' as, convulsively clutching their little 
 ones closer to their broad bosoms, they crept 
 nearer to the blazing log upon the hearth,
 
 154 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 and gazed furtively and nervously at the little 
 diamond- paned window, past which the rest- 
 less wanderer was making his way, his com- 
 panion running along a little way in advance, 
 for not of the mysterious man alone were the 
 honest people afraid. In front of him there 
 invariably ran a ghastly-looking, scraggy white 
 hare, 21 with bloodshot eyes. No sooner how- 
 ever did anyone look at this spectral animal than 
 it fled to the wanderer, and jumping into his 
 capacious pocket, was lost to sight. 
 
 Verily of an unearthly stock was this white 
 hare, for upon its approach and long before it 
 neared a village, the chained dogs, by some 
 strange instinct conscious of its coming, trem- 
 bled in terror, and frantically endeavoured to 
 snap their bonds ; unfastened ones fled no man 
 knew whither ; and if one happened to be trot- 
 ting alongside its belated master as he trudged 
 homeward and chanced to meet the ghastly 
 Dobble with its blood-red eyes, with a scream 
 of pain almost human in its keen intensity, 
 away home scampered the terrified animal, 
 madly dashing over hedge and ditch as though 
 bewitched and fiend-chased. 
 
 For many years the lonely wanderer had
 
 THE WHITE DOBBIE. 
 
 155 
 
 traversed the roads, and for many years had 
 the hare trotted in front of him ; lads who 
 were cradled upon their mother's knee when 
 first they heard the awe-inspiring footfalls had 
 grown up into hearty wide-chested men, and 
 men who were ruddy fishers when the pilgrim 
 first startled the dwellers in Furness had long 
 passed away into the silent land ; but none of 
 them ever had known the wayfarer to utter a 
 syllable. At length, however, the time came 
 when the solemn silence was to be broken. 
 
 One night when the breeze, tired of whisper- 
 ing its weird messages to the bare branches, 
 and chasing the withered leaves along the 
 lanes, had begun to moan a hushed prelude to 
 the music of a storm, through the mist that 
 had crept over the bay, and which obscured 
 even the white-crested wavelets at the foot of 
 the hill on which stood the sacred old church, 
 there came at measured intervals the melan- 
 choly monotone of the Bardsea passing bell 9 
 for the dead. 
 
 Dismally upon the ears of the dwellers in 
 the straggling hamlet fell the announcement of 
 the presence of death, and even the woman 
 who had for years been bell-ringer and sexton,
 
 I 56 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 felt a thrill of fear as she stood in the tower 
 but dimly lighted by a candle in a horn lantern, 
 and high above her head the message of warn- 
 ing rang out ; for, although accustomed to the 
 task, it was not often that her services were 
 required at night. Now and again she gazed 
 slowly round the chamber, upon the mouldering 
 walls of which fantastic shadows danced, and 
 she muttered broken fragments of prayers in 
 a loud and terrified voice, for as the door had 
 been closed in order that the feeble light in 
 the lantern might not be extinguished by the 
 gusts of wind, isolated as she was from the 
 little world upon the hillside, she felt in an 
 unwonted manner the utter loneliness of the 
 place and its dread surroundings. 
 
 Suddenly she uttered a shrill shriek, for r,he 
 heard a hissing whisper at her ear and felt an 
 icy breath upon her cheek. She dared not 
 turn round, for she saw that the door opening 
 upon the churchyard remained closed as before, 
 and that occasionally passing within the range 
 of her fixed stare, a white hare with blood-red 
 eyes gambolled round the belfry. 
 
 ' T' Dobbie !' sighed she, as the dim light 
 began to flicker and the hare suddenly vanished.
 
 THE WHITE BOBBIE. 1,57 
 
 As she stood almost paralysed, again came 
 the terrible whisper, and this time she heard 
 the question 
 
 ' Who for this time ?' 
 
 The horrified woman was unable to answer, 
 and yet powerless to resist the strange fascina- 
 tion which forced her to follow the direction of 
 the sound ; and when the question was put a 
 second time, in an agony of fear she gazed into 
 the wild eyes of the being at her elbow, her 
 parched tongue cleaving to her open mouth. 
 From the pocket of the dread visitor the 
 ghastly animal gazed at the ringer, who 
 mechanically jerked the bell-rope, and the 
 poor woman was fast losing her senses, when 
 suddenly the door was burst open, and a couple 
 of villagers, who had been alarmed by the 
 irregular ringing, entered the tower. They at 
 once started back as they saw the strange 
 group the wanderer with sad, inquiring look, 
 and pallid face, the phantom hare with its fire- 
 lit eyes, and the old ringer standing as though 
 in a trance. No sooner, however, did one of 
 the intruders gaze at the animal than it slipped 
 out of sight down into the pocket of its com- 
 panion and keeper, and the wanderer himself
 
 158 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 hastily glided between the astonished men, and 
 out into the darkness of the graveyard. 
 
 On many other gloomy nights afterwards 
 the ringer was accosted in the same manner, 
 but although the unnatural being and the 
 spectral hare continued for some winters to 
 pass from village to village and from graveyard 
 to graveyard, a thick cloud of mystery always 
 hung over and about them, and no one ever 
 knew what terrible sin the never-resting man 
 had been doomed to expiate by so lonely and 
 lasting a pilgrimage 
 
 Whence he came and whither he went re- 
 mained unknown ; but long as he continued to 
 patrol the coast the hollow sound of his hasty 
 footsteps never lost its terror to the cottagers ; 
 and even after years had passed over without 
 the usual visits, allusions to the weird pilgrim 
 and his dread companion failed not to cause a 
 shudder, for it was believed that the hare was 
 the spirit of a basely-murdered friend, and that 
 the restless voyager was the miserable assassin 
 doomed to a wearisome, lifelong wandering. 22
 
 THE LITTLE MAN'S GIFT. 
 
 ANY are the wells in Lancashire that 
 once were supposed to be the homes 
 of good or evil spirits of demons or 
 of beneficent fairies and, despite the injunc- 
 tions of the Church against the customs of 
 praying at and waking wells, down to a com- 
 paratively recent period they were resorted to 
 by pilgrims of all grades who were in search 
 of health. One such spring near Blackpool, 
 known as the Fairies' Well, had its daily 
 crowds of the ailing and the sorrowful, for its 
 water was credited with virtues as wonderful 
 as they were manifold, and from far and near 
 people brought vessels to be filled with the 
 miraculous fluid. 
 
 One day at noon, a poor woman who had 
 journeyed many a weary mile in order to 
 obtain a supply of the water with which to
 
 160 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 bathe the eyes of her child, whose sight was 
 fast failing, and upon whom .all the usual 
 remedies had been tried without success, on 
 rising from her knees at the well side, was 
 surprised to find standing near her a handsome 
 little man clad in green, who certainly was not 
 in sight when she bent to fill her bottle. As 
 she stood gazing at the dainty object, the 
 visitor, without having previously asked her 
 any questions, handed to her a beautiful box 
 filled with ointment, and directed her to apply 
 the salve to the eyes of her child, whose sight 
 it would restore. Surprised beyond measure 
 at the little man's knowledge of her family 
 affairs, the woman mechanically accepted the 
 gift, but when, after carefully placing the box 
 in her pocket, she turned to thank the giver, 
 he was no longer to be seen ; and satisfied that 
 she had had an interview with one of the 
 beings after whom the well was named, she 
 started on her journey to her distant home. 
 
 The strangeness of the present, given as she 
 trusted it was by a fairy who was conversant 
 with the painful circumstances under which 
 she had made her pilgrimage, caused her to 
 hope that the ointment would prove efficacious
 
 THE LITTLE MAN*S GIFT. l6l 
 
 in removing the disorder under which her child 
 was labouring ; but this vague feeling, based 
 as it was upon the mysterious nature of the 
 gift, was accompanied by a perfectly natural 
 fear that, after all, the giver might have been 
 one of those mischievous beings whose de- 
 light it was to wreak harm and wrong upon 
 humanity. 
 
 When she reached home and told the 
 strange story to her wondering husband, the 
 nervous pair decided that the ointment should 
 not be used unless a further mark of fairy 
 interest in the child's welfare were vouchsafed 
 to them ; but when a few days had passed, and 
 the child continued to grow worse, the anxious 
 mother, in the absence of her husband, deter- 
 mined to test the salve upon one of her own 
 eyes. She did so, and after a few minutes of 
 dreadful suspense, finding that evil results did 
 not follow, and saying to herself that surely 
 the fairy could not be desirous of harming her 
 child, she anointed the little girl's eyes. She 
 refrained, however, from making her helpmate 
 acquainted with what she had done, until in 
 the course of a few days the child's eyesight 
 was so nearly restored that it was no longer
 
 1 62 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 necessary or possible to keep the matter from 
 him. Great were the rejoicings of the worthy 
 pair over their little one's recovery ; but there 
 was not for a very long time any opportunity 
 afforded them of expressing their gratitude. 
 
 Some years had passed, and, as the girl had 
 never had a relapse, the strange gift was almost 
 forgotten, when one day, in the market-place 
 at Preston, the woman, who was haggling 
 about the price of a load of potatoes, saw 
 before her the identical little fellow in green 
 attire from whom, long before, she had re- 
 ceived the box of wonder-working ointment. 
 Although he was busily engaged in a pursuit 
 in which, perhaps, few gentlemen would care 
 to be interrupted, that of stealing corn from an 
 open sack, the thoughtless woman, regardless 
 of etiquette, and yielding to the sudden impulse 
 which prompted her to thank him, stepped 
 forward, and, grasping the fairy's hand, gave 
 utterance to her gratitude. 
 
 To her surprise, however, the little fellow 
 seemed very angry with her, and, instead of 
 acknowledging her thanks, hastily asked if she 
 could see him with both eyes, and if she had 
 used the ointment intended for her child. The
 
 THE LITTLE MAN'S GIFT. 163 
 
 frightened woman at once said that she saw 
 him with only one eye, and was entering into 
 a long account of the circumstances under 
 which, with maternal instinct, she had tested 
 the value of the gift, when, without more ado, 
 the irritated fairy struck her a violent blow 
 and vanished, and from that time forward the 
 poor woman, instead of being able to see better 
 than her neighbours, was blind of one eye. 
 The daughter, however, often saw the fairies, 
 but, profiting by her mother's painful ex- 
 perience, she was wise enough to refrain from 
 speaking to them either when they gathered by 
 moonlight beneath the trees or in broad day- 
 light broke the Eighth Commandment, utterly 
 unconscious that they were observed by a 
 mortal to whom had been given the wondrous 
 gift of fairy vision. 23
 
 SATAN'S SUPPER. 24 
 
 Ye Evil One 
 
 giveth unto 
 
 them a stayve. 
 
 THE ' Old Lad ' sat upon his throne, 
 
 Beneath a blasted oak, 
 And fiddled to the mandrake's groan, 
 
 The marsh-frog's lonely croak ; 
 
 Ye corpses 
 
 dashe their 
 
 wigges. 
 
 II. 
 Whilst winds they hissed, and shrieked, and 
 
 moaned 
 
 About the branches bare, 
 And all around the corpses groaned, 
 And shook their mould'ring hair ; 
 
 Ye hagges 
 
 crowde to ye 
 
 levee. 
 
 As witches gathered one by one, 
 And knelt at Satan's feet, 
 
 With faces some all worn and wan, 
 And some with features sweet, 
 
 Ye power 
 
 of 
 Musicke. 
 
 IV. 
 The earth did ope and imps upsprang 
 
 Of every shape and shade, 
 Who 'gan to dance as th' welkin rang 
 
 With tunes the ' Old Lad ' played ;
 
 SATAN S SUPPER. 
 
 165 
 
 V. 
 
 f At which the witches clapped their hands, 
 
 P J And laughed and screamed in glee ; 
 
 motion. j Or jumped about in whirling bands, 
 
 V And hopped in revelry, 
 
 Ye delicacies 
 
 of ye 
 season, 
 
 VI. 
 
 Till Satan ceased, when all did rest, 
 And swarmed unto the meat : 
 
 The flesh of infants from the breast, 
 The toes from dead men's feet, 
 
 Ye 
 ditto, 
 
 With sand for salt, and brimstone cates, 
 With blood for old wine red ; 
 
 On glittering dish and golden plates 
 The dainty food was spread. 
 
 Ye 
 coolinge 
 
 Ye barde 
 
 telleth of 
 
 an outcaste 
 
 impe. 
 
 From heavy cups, with jewels rough, 
 The witches quenched their thirst ; 
 
 Yet not before the ruddie stuff 
 Had been by Satan cursed. 
 
 IX. 
 
 But one lank fiend of skin and bone, 
 With hungry-looking eyne, 
 
 Gazed at the food with dreary moans, 
 And many a mournful whine j 
 
 For Satan would not let him feed 
 Upon the toothsome cheer, 
 
 (He had not done all day a deed 
 To cause a human tear) ; 
 
 Ofhys 
 
 gamboles 
 
 and praieres, 
 
 And so he hopped from side to side, 
 
 To beg a bit of ' toke,' 
 And, vagrant-like, his plea denied, 
 
 He prayed that they might choke
 
 1 66 
 
 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 Themselves with morsels rich and fat 
 
 Or die upon the floor, 
 Like paupers (grieving much thereat 
 
 The guardians of the poor). 
 
 Ye earlie byrde ( 
 
 prepareth for I 
 
 ye Diet of < 
 
 Wormes.' j 
 
 A cock then flapped his wings and crew, 
 
 Announcing coming light ; 
 When, seizing on a jar of stew, 
 
 The snubbed imp took his flight. 
 
 And at the solemn sound of doom 
 
 The witches flew away, 
 While Satan slunk off through the gloom, 
 
 Afraid of break of day ; 
 
 Ye fraitlesse 
 remorse of 
 Beelrebubbe. 
 
 XV. 
 
 And in the darkness drear he cried- 
 
 His voice a trifle gruff, 
 'Those omelettes were nicely fried ; 
 I have not had enough !' 
 
 Ye resulte 
 
 of ye meetynge 
 
 uponne ye 
 
 A blight fell on the trembling flowers 
 And on the quivering trees 
 
 No buds there drink the passing showers, 
 Or leaves wave in the breeze ; 
 
 Agryculture 
 
 of ye 
 dystricte. 
 
 XVII. 
 For Satan's presence withered all 
 
 The daisies and the grass, 
 And all things over which like pall 
 
 His sulphurous tail did pass.
 
 THE EARTHENWARE GOOSE. 
 
 NCE upon a time, which somewhat 
 vague reference in this instance 
 means long before it was considered 
 a compliment by the fair dames of Lancashire 
 to be termed witches, there lived in the Fylde 
 country village of Singleton a toothless, hook- 
 nosed old woman, whose ill fortune it was to be 
 credited with the friendship of the Evil One. 
 Perhaps had the ancient dame been somewhat 
 better looking she might have borne a better 
 character. In those distant days to be poor 
 was considered decidedly discreditable, but to 
 be ugly also was to add insult to injury. The 
 old woman knew only too well that she was 
 poor and that she was plain, for the urchins 
 and hobbledehoys of the locality lost no oppor- 
 tunity of reminding her of the facts, whenever, 
 on frugal mind intent, she emerged from her
 
 1 68 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 rude cottage to expend a few pence upon 
 articles of food. 
 
 Ugliness and poverty, however, Mag Shelton 
 persisted in considering misfortunes and not 
 crimes, and when anybody to whom she was 
 an eyesore, with gallantry peculiar to the time 
 and place let us hope, wished that she would 
 die and rid the village of her objectionable 
 presence, the old woman took no notice of the 
 polite expression. To die by particular desire 
 was not in Mag's line. What harm could a 
 toothless old woman do, that the world, by which 
 term the half-dazed creature meant the village 
 in which she had spent her life, should evince 
 so much anxiety to be rid of her? argued 
 Mag. True, if toothless, she had her tongue ; 
 but without a visiting circle, and with no bene- 
 factors to belie, that valuable weapon in the 
 service of spite might just as well have been in 
 the mouth of an uneducated heathen. Harm- 
 less, however, as the old dame thought herself, 
 the villagers held a different opinion, and the 
 children, afraid of disturbing the witch, invaria- 
 bly removed their wooden-soled clogs before 
 they ran past the hut in which Mag lived, 25 
 while the older folk, if they did not literally
 
 THE EARTHENWARE GOOSE. 169 
 
 take the coverings from their feet as they 
 passed the lonely dwelling, crept by on tiptoe, 
 and glanced furtively at the unsuspecting 
 inhabitant of the cottage, who, by the aid of 
 the fitful firelight, might be seen dozing near 
 the dying embers, and now and again stroking 
 a suspiciously bright-eyed cat, nestled snugly 
 upon her knee. 
 
 The old woman's solitary way of life favoured 
 the growth of superstitions regarding her, for 
 the Singletonians were not without their share 
 of that comforting vanity which impresses the 
 provincial mind with a sense of the high im- 
 portance of its society, parish, and creed ; and 
 they could not imagine anyone preferring to 
 keep away from them and to sit alone, without 
 at once believing, as a necessary consequence, 
 that the unappreciative ones must have dealings 
 with Satan. 
 
 It soon was found convenient to attribute 
 anything and everything of an unpleasant 
 nature to the denizen of the lonely cottage, ' th' 
 Owd Witch/ as she was termed. Was a cow 
 or a child ailing ? Mag had done it ! Had the 
 housewife omitted to mark with the sign of the 
 cross the baking of dough left in the mug on
 
 I 70 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 the hearth, and the bread had turned out 
 ' heavy/ Mag Shelton had taken advantage of 
 the overworked woman's negligence ! Was 
 there but a poor field of wheat ? 'Twas the 
 fault of old Mag, swore the farmer. In short, 
 whatever went wrong throughout the entire 
 country-side was judged to be clearly traceable 
 to the spite and malevolence of the toothless 
 old woman and her suspicious-looking cat. 
 
 This state of things might, however, have 
 continued without any interruption, until Nature 
 had interposed and released Mag from her at- 
 tendance upon such a world, had it not begun 
 to be noticed that almost every farmer in the 
 neighbourhood was complaining of the mys- 
 terious disappearance of milk, not only from the 
 dairies, but also from the udders of the cows 
 grazing in the pastures. A bucolic genius im- 
 mediately proclaimed that in this case, too, the 
 culprit must be Mag, for had not she her familiars 
 to feed, and what could be more agreeable to 
 the palate of a parched fiend or perspiring imp, 
 than a beaker of milk fresh from the cow and 
 redolent of meadow-flowers ? With such a 
 gaping family to satisfy, what regard could the 
 old lady retain for the Eighth Commandment ?
 
 THE EARTHENWARE GOOSE. I 7 I 
 
 This logic was deemed unanswerable, and a 
 number of the farmers determined to conceal 
 themselves one night about the witch's cottage, 
 in the hope of something confirmatory turning 
 up. It was late when they took their places, and 
 they barely had settled themselves comfortably 
 behind the hedgerow before a noise was heard, 
 and the old woman emerged from the house, 
 the cat, and, of all things else in the world, a 
 stately goose solemnly paddling behind her. 
 
 The men in ambush remained silent until 
 Mag and her attendants had passed out of 
 sight and hearing, when one of them said, 
 * Keep still, chaps, till hoo comes back. Hoo's 
 gone a milkin', I daat.' The watchers therefore 
 kept perfectly quiet, and in a little while their 
 patience was rewarded ; for the old woman 
 reappeared, walking slowly and unattended by 
 her former companions. As she paused to 
 unfasten the cottage door, the men pounced 
 out of their hiding-place, seized her roughly, 
 and at once tore off her cloak. To the surprise 
 of the rude assailants, however, no sign of milk- 
 jugs could be observed ; and, as they stood 
 aghast, Mag cried, in a shrill and angry voice, 
 ' Will ye never learn to respect grey hair, ye
 
 I 72 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 knaves ?' ' We '11 respect tha into th' pit yon, 
 mi lady,' immediately responded one of the 
 roughest of the men. ' What hes ta done with 
 th' milk to-neet ?' 
 
 In vain were the old woman's protestations, 
 that, driven from the roads and lanes in the 
 daytime by the children and the hobbledehoys 
 who persecuted her, she had of late taken her 
 exercise by night ; the judicial mind was made 
 up, and rude hands were outstretched to drag 
 her to the horsepond, when, fortunately for 
 Mag, the appearance of the goose, waddling 
 in a hurried and agitated manner, created a 
 timely diversion in her favour. 
 
 ' I thowt it quare/ said one of the would- 
 be executioners 'varra quare, that th' goose 
 worn't somewheer abaat, for hoo an' it's as thick 
 as Darby an' Jooan.' 
 
 As though conscious that all was not well 
 with its mistress, the ungainly and excited bird, 
 stretching its neck towards the bystanders, and 
 hissing loudly, placed itself by the old woman's 
 side. 
 
 1 We want no hissin' heear,' said the leader 
 of the band, as he lifted a heavy stick and 
 struck the sibilant fowl a sharp rap on its head.
 
 THE EARTHENWARE GOOSE. I 73 
 
 No sooner had the sound of the blow fallen 
 upon the ears of the assembled rustics than the 
 goose vanished, not a solitary feather being left 
 behind, and in its place there stood a large 
 broken pitcher, from which milk, warm from 
 the cow, was streaming. Here was proof to 
 satisfy even the most credulous, and, as a con- 
 sequence, in a moment the old woman was 
 floundering in the pond, from which she barely 
 escaped with her life. A few days afterwards, 
 however, upon the interposition of the Vicar, she 
 was permitted to leave the inhospitable village, 
 and away she tramped in search of 'fresh woods 
 and pastures new/ her cat and the revivified 
 goose bearing her company, 26 
 
 She had left the inhospitable place, when 
 the landlord of the Blue Pig discovered that 
 the jug in which the witch- watchers had con- 
 veyed their 'allowance' to the place of ambush 
 had' not been returned. It was not again seen 
 in its entirety, and the sarcastic host often 
 vowed that it was here and there in the village 
 in the shape of cherished fragments of the 
 broken one into which the watchers declared 
 that they had seen Mag's goose transformed
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. 
 
 [x a beautiful night late in summer a 
 solitary man, who was returning from 
 some wedding festivities, was rapidly 
 crossing Fair Snape. The moon was at the full, 
 and threw her glamour upon the lovely fell, as a 
 breeze sighed among the tall ferns which waved 
 gently to and fro under the sweet invisible 
 influence, and the only sounds which fell upon 
 the wayfarer's ear were the almost inaudible 
 rustling of the bracken, and the occasional faint 
 bark of a distant watch-dog. Giles Roper, 
 however, was not thinking of the beauty of the 
 night, or of the scenery, but, naturally enough, 
 was congratulating himself upon being ever so 
 much nearer to the stocking of that farm with- 
 out which he could not hope for the hand of 
 the miller's rosy daughter. Thoughts of a 
 chubby, good-hearted little woman like Liza
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. 175 
 
 were calculated to drive out all other and less 
 pleasant ones ; but Giles was rapidly approach- 
 ing a part of the hillside said to be haunted. 
 Many tales had he heard by the winter's fire of 
 the doings of the nameless appearance, the 
 narrators speaking in hushed voices, and the 
 hearers instinctively drawing closer together on 
 the old settle; and these narratives crowded 
 into his recollection as he left the cheerful 
 moonlight and stepped into the shade of the 
 little clough. Before he had got very far down 
 he was prepared to see or hear anything ; but, 
 making allowance for the fear which somehow 
 or other had taken possession of him, he knew 
 that there was something more than fancy in a 
 melancholy wail which broke upon his ears as 
 he reached a bend in the ravine. There was 
 nothing however in the sad note of lamentation 
 calculated to terrify, save the consciousness that 
 such sweet music could not be that of a mortal. 
 Instinctively Giles looked in the direction 
 whence the sound had come, and in the dim 
 light he saw the figure of a woman with a 
 pallid face of singular and unearthly beauty, her 
 hair falling behind her like a sheet of gold, and 
 her eyes emitting a strange lustre, which, how-
 
 I 76 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ever, was not sufficiently intense to conceal 
 their beautiful azure hue. The bewildered 
 spectator gazed in rapt worship, for though his 
 limbs still trembled he no longer felt any fear, 
 but rather a wild delirious longing to speak to, 
 and to be addressed by, the beautiful being 
 before him. He was sufficiently near to the 
 appearance to be able to distinguish the features 
 clearly, and when he saw a movement of the 
 lips his heart throbbed violently under the 
 expectation that he was about to receive a 
 mysterious commission. He was, however, 
 doomed to be disappointed, for the only 
 sound emitted by the phantom was another 
 low melodious cry, even more pathetic and 
 mournful than that by which his attention had 
 first been attracted to the lovely object. At 
 the same time Giles saw that the figure was 
 more distant than before, and that it was slowly 
 gliding away, but beckoning to him, as though 
 anxious that he should follow. The young 
 man, spell-bound and fascinated by the enchant- 
 ing eyes, which were beautiful enough to turn 
 the head of one wiser than the raw country lad 
 upon whom they were fixed, followed eagerly, 
 but at the end of the clough, where the moon-
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. I 77 
 
 light was brilliant, the figure vanished, leaving 
 Giles, not with that feeling of relief said to 
 follow the disappearance of a mysterious visit- 
 ant, but, on the contrary, anxious to behold the 
 vision again. He therefore turnedand retraced 
 his steps to the undulating summit of the fell, 
 where the wind was sighing over the many- 
 flowered heather, but there was nothing to be 
 seen of the blue-eyed phantom, and only for 
 the faint wash of the rustling ferns all would 
 have been silent. 
 
 Unwilling to leave the spot, although he was 
 conscious that the task was a fruitless one, he 
 continued to wander from one point to another, 
 and it was not until daybreak that he finally 
 gave up the search and descended the fell. Not 
 caring to allude to his adventure and vain 
 search upon the pike, Giles accounted for his 
 lateness by asserting that he had remained 
 until midnight at the distant farmhouse where 
 the rejoicings had taken place, and had after- 
 wards lost his way on the fells. With this ex- 
 cuse, however, his relatives were quite content, 
 one sarcastic farm-servant drily remarking that 
 after wedding festivities it was wonderful he 
 had been able to find his way home at all. 
 12
 
 I 78 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 The extraordinary thoughtfulness which 
 Giles evinced during the day was of too 
 marked a nature to remain unobserved ; but 
 the old father attributed it merely to that 
 natural dislike to settled labour which generally 
 follows boisterous relaxation, and the mother 
 thought it was due to a desire to be off again 
 to see the chubby daughter of the miller. The 
 old dame, therefore, was not surprised when 
 her son announced his intention to leave home 
 for a few hours, and she congratulated herself 
 on her foresight and discernment, finishing her 
 soliloquy by saying 'Well, hoo's a bonny 
 wench as he's after; an', what's mooar, hoo's 
 as good as hoo's pratty.' 
 
 It was not, however, to the far-off dwelling 
 of the miller that Giles was making his way. 
 
 On the contrary, he was leisurely pacing in 
 quite an opposite direction, his back turned to 
 the old mill, and his eyes fixed upon the distant 
 fells, which he did not care to reach until the 
 gloaming had given way to moonlight. Not 
 that he was afraid of being seen, the road he 
 trod was too lonely for that ; but he thought it 
 was unlikely his watchings would be rewarded 
 before the night had properly set in. If the
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. I 79 
 
 beautiful object was a spirit and what else 
 could it have been ? it would come at its own 
 time, and who ever heard of spirits appearing 
 before midnight ? The young fellow, there- 
 fore, waited until the moon rose and bathed the 
 hills in her golden flood, when he at once began 
 to climb the fell, making his way up the ravine 
 in which on the previous night he had heard 
 the mysterious voice. 
 
 It was some time from midnight, and he 
 stopped to rest, taking his seat upon a moss- 
 covered stone. Here he waited patiently ; 
 but he had begun to fear that his visit was to 
 be a fruitless one, when once more he heard 
 the peculiar mournful wail, and rapidly turning 
 round, he saw that he was not alone. Again 
 the weird eyes, in all their unearthly beauty, 
 were fixed upon him, and the long white arms 
 were extended as though to beckon him to 
 draw nigh. 
 
 Instinctively Giles rose in obedience to the 
 pleading attitude of the fair vision ; but as 
 he approached the phantom it grew less and 
 less distinct, and at length vanished. As on 
 the previous night, the young fellow wandered 
 about in the hope of again seeing the lovely
 
 l8o GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 being, and once more he was obliged to return 
 to the farm unsuccessful. 
 
 Possessed by a maddening and irresistible 
 desire to gaze upon the wondrous face which 
 had bewitched him, the approach of nightfall 
 invariably found Giles on his way to the fell, 
 and it can easily be imagined to what unplea- 
 santness in his family circle this course of con- 
 duct gave rise. On the one hand the parents 
 gave the rein to all sorts of vague suspicions 
 as to the cause of the night rambles ; and the 
 lad's disinclination to give any explanations did 
 not help the old people to think more kindly 
 of him. The father of the girl whom he had 
 asked in marriage also did not fail to expostu- 
 late with him, in the idea that he had fallen into 
 evil ways, and that his pilgrimages were to a 
 distant town ; while the girl herself, loving him 
 as she did with all the vigour of her simple and 
 earnest nature, and uninfluenced by any foolish 
 feeling of false shame, came to his parents' 
 house in the hope of obtaining a promise of 
 better things. 
 
 Her pleadings and her womanly threats, 
 however, were unavailing, the whilom lover 
 in a shamefaced manner refusing to make any
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. l8l 
 
 promise of different behaviour. The interview 
 was a painful one ; for the girl, feeling certain 
 that her father's interpretation was correct, used 
 all her powers to induce Giles to abandon his 
 evil courses ; but at length, finding that her 
 prayers were ineffectual, she bitterly reproached 
 him with his want of honesty. 
 
 1 It's no evil as I'm after, lass ! Don't think 
 that on mi,' said the young man, in an appeal- 
 ing tone ; but the girl was not to be convinced 
 by mere assertion. 
 
 ' It's no good as teks tha away o'er t' pike 
 neet after neet,' said she, with a sudden access 
 of grief, ' it 'ull come by tha in some way or 
 another, Giles.' And in tears she turned away 
 from him. 
 
 'Whisht, lass, whisht! If tha nobbut knew, 
 O tha'd pity i'stid o' blaming mi.' 
 
 The girl heeded not these words, but kept 
 on her way. When she got to a turn in the 
 road, however, she looked back mournfully, as 
 though in doubt whether to return and cast 
 herself upon his breast, and bid him trust in 
 her ; but pride overcame her, and she resisted 
 the impulse. 
 
 That night, as two of the miller's men were
 
 1 82 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 poaching, they were startled by the unexpected 
 sound of a human voice, and hastily hiding 
 themselves beneath the tall ferns, they saw 
 Giles emerge from the clough and run towards 
 the place where they were concealed. He 
 seemed to be half mad with excitement, and 
 as he ran he was crying aloud some words 
 they could not catch. When he drew nearer, 
 however, they were able to hear more distinctly, 
 and to their surprise they found that he was 
 appealing to an invisible being to appear to 
 him. 
 
 For some time they remained in their place 
 of concealment, Giles hovering about the spot ; 
 but when the young fellow ran to a distance, 
 they emerged from their hiding-place and 
 rapidly made their way to the mill. For ob- 
 vious reasons, however, they agreed to keep 
 silence as to what they had seen and heard. 
 
 The day after this episode Giles was in a 
 fever and delirious, raving continually about 
 the bonny face and 'breet een' of the being he 
 had seen in the ravine. His afflicted parents 
 found in the wild utterances sad confirmation 
 of their worst fears, and, half broken-hearted, 
 they hovered sorrowfully about his bed. For
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. 183 
 
 weeks he battled with the disorder, and at 
 nightfall frequently endeavoured to leave the 
 house, and vainly struggled with the friends 
 who prevented him, to whom he frantically 
 cried that she of the blue eyes was calling him. 
 
 A cloud fell over the hitherto happy house- 
 hold. Night and day the old people watched 
 over their sick lad, each of them feeling that 
 the task would have been a comparatively easy 
 one had not the patient's delirious ravings re- 
 vealed to them so terrible a background to the 
 round of their primitive and innocent daily life. 
 Not that they loved their child any less because 
 of the revelations he had unconsciously made to 
 them, but they brooded and fretted over his 
 supposed wickedness, and bowed their heads 
 in grief and shame as they unwillingly heard 
 his impassioned cries. 
 
 By-and-by the story of these ravings got 
 noised about, and the miller's daughter, who 
 hitherto had been suffering bravely, broke down 
 altogether when she knew that she was an object 
 of pity to the gossips. It fortunately happened, 
 however, that the miller's men who had seen 
 Giles at the pike got into conversation with their 
 master about the matter, and it struck one of
 
 I 84 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 them that the woman about whom Giles was 
 supposed to be raving, and of whom tales of 
 all sorts were being circulated, was a feeorin 
 of some kind that the young fellow had seen 
 on the lonely fell. No sooner was this idea 
 arrived at than off they started to see the dis- 
 tressed parents, the miller's daughter hastening 
 with them. They found no difficulty in gaining 
 credence for their narrative, and with a burst 
 of thankfulness the old people felt that the gulf 
 which had yawned between them and their 
 eldest born was for ever closed ; while, as for 
 the girl, her transports of joy were almost 
 painful in their intensity. So great a weight 
 was lifted from all hearts that the illness of 
 the patient was for the time almost forgotten. 
 Giles, however, still remained in a very critical 
 condition, but he soon had an additional nurse, 
 who, despite the watchings and the toil of 
 which she relieved the old people, was rapidly 
 becoming more and more like the ruddy-faced 
 damsel to whom the young fellow had plighted- 
 his troth, for she could listen to and disregard 
 the ravings of her lover and look forward to 
 the time when happiness should again smile 
 upon them.
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. 185 
 
 A few weeks passed. The violence of the 
 disorder abated, and the patient recovered so 
 far as to be able to bear removal to a large 
 chair by the kitchen fire. As he sat quietly 
 dreaming the short autumn days away, without 
 any allusions to the beauty about whom he 
 had so constantly raved during his delirium, 
 the old people and the miller's daughter began 
 to congratulate themselves that the dream- 
 madness had passed away with the worst phase 
 of the illness. The girl, however, although 
 she did not utter any complaint, suffered deeply 
 from the coolness with which Giles treated her. 
 Not that he was ungrateful, for, on the con- 
 trary, it was impossible to do anything for him, 
 however slight the service might be, without 
 a thankful acknowledgment ; but there was a 
 visible constraint in his manner which could 
 not escape the keen sight of love. Fearing to 
 distress him by any remonstrances, the patient 
 girl refrained from referring to the past or 
 showing that she was observant of any change 
 in his behaviour towards her, but she brooded 
 over her grief when she was alone. The 
 young fellow knew that the poor girl was 
 suffering, but for the life of him he could not
 
 I 86 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 assume that which he did not feel. Much as 
 he had loved her before the night of his adven- 
 ture on the pike, from the moment when he 
 had first seen the face of the mysterious being 
 his affection for her had faded away, consumed 
 by the intense longing which filled his soul 
 night and day whenever he thought of the eyes 
 illumined by a fire that was not human, and of 
 the features and hair so exquisitely beautiful in 
 the faint moonlight. Calm and quiet as he 
 looked, seated propped with cushions in the 
 old chair by the fire, he was inwardly fretting 
 against the weakness that kept him from the 
 fells, and his longing soul came into his eyes 
 as he gazed through the little diamond-paned 
 window, and saw the pike, in all the beauty of 
 many-tinted autumn, kissed by the setting sun 
 as the blushing day sank into the swarthy arms 
 of night 
 
 Slowly winter came, bringing snow and storm, 
 and as though influenced by a feeling that even 
 Nature had interposed her barriers between 
 him and the lovely being, one afternoon, as the 
 mists crept slowly over the white landscape, 
 and hid in their shimmering folds the distant 
 fells where he had first seen the sweet face so
 
 THE PHANTOM OF THE FELL. l8/ 
 
 seldom absent from his feverish dreams, he 
 could not resist the desire which seized him 
 to visit once more the haunted ravine. The 
 various members of the little household were 
 away from the house engaged in their labours 
 about the farm, and taking advantage of this, 
 Giles fled from the dwelling, and made his way 
 through the dim light to the hills. It was not 
 long, however, before his absence was dis- 
 covered, but some time elapsed before the 
 men- folk could be gathered, and the shades of 
 night had fallen before the anxious pursuers 
 reached the foot of the pike. 
 
 The thick mist had enveloped everything, 
 and as the lanterns, choked as they were by 
 the damp, threw but a fitful light, it was with 
 the utmost difficulty that the men found the 
 footmarks of the wanderer in the snow up the 
 fell side. The searchers were led by the 
 father of Giles, who spoke not, but glanced at 
 the track as though in dread of discovering 
 that which he had come to find. Suddenly 
 the old man gave a startled cry, for he had fol- 
 lowed the marks to the edge of a little cliff, 
 over which he had almost fallen in his eager- 
 ness. It was forthwith determined to follow
 
 1 88 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 the ravine to its commencement, and although 
 nothing was said by any of the party, each 
 man felt certain that the missing young fellow 
 would be found at the bottom. It did not take 
 long to reach the entrance, and with careful 
 steps the old man led the way over the 
 boulders. He had not gone far before the light 
 from his lantern fell upon the upturned face of 
 his son, whose body lay across the course of a 
 little frozen stream. The features were set in 
 the sleep of death, for Giles had fallen from the 
 level above, the creeping mists having obscured 
 the gorge where he first saw the lovely phantom, 
 in search of which he had met an untimely end.
 
 ALLHALLOW'S NIGHT. 
 
 jo many a beautiful landscape the ma- 
 jestic Pendle adds a nameless charm, 
 and the traveller who gazes upon it 
 from any of the points whence a view of the 
 whalelike mass is to be obtained, would hardly 
 dream that the moss and fern-covered hill, smil- 
 ing through the dim haze, once was the head- 
 quarters of witchcraft and devilry. Readers of 
 the quaint and sad trials of the witchmania 
 period, and of Harrison Ainsworth's celebrated 
 novel based thereon, will, however, remember 
 what dread scenes were said to have transpired 
 in the dim light of its cloughs and upon its 
 wild sides, when Chattox, Mouldheels, and the 
 other poor wretches whose ' devilish practices 
 and hellish means,' as they were termed in the 
 old indictments, made the neighbourhood of 
 the mountain so unsafe a locality.
 
 1 90 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 In a lonely little house some distance from 
 the foot of Pendle, there dwelt a farmer and his 
 family, together with a labourer whom he 
 employed. Entirely illiterate, and living in a 
 wild and weird district, with but few houses 
 nearer than a mile away, the household be- j 
 lieved firmly in all the dreadful boggart, witch, 
 and feeorin stones current in the district. For 
 a long time, however, the farmer had not any 
 personal experience of the power of either 
 witch or boggart ; but at length his turn came. 
 After a tempestuous night, when the windows 
 and doors rattled in their frames, and the wind, 
 dashing the big rain drops against the little 
 diamond-shaped panes, moaned and shrieked 
 round the lonely dwelling, three of the beasts 
 were found dead in the shippon. A few days 
 afterwards two of the children sickened, and 
 when ' th' edge o' dark' was creeping up the 
 hill-side one of them died. As though this 
 trouble was not enough, the crops were 
 blighted. With reluctance the farmer saw in 
 these things proof that he had in some un- 
 known manner incurred the displeasure of the 
 invisible powers, and that the horse-shoe over 
 his door, the branches of ash over the entrance
 
 ALLHALLOW S NIGHT. 19! 
 
 to the shippon, and the hag stones hung up at 
 the head of his own and of the children's bed, 
 had lost their power of protection. 
 
 The family council, at which the unprotected 
 condition of the house was discussed, was of 
 the saddest kind, for even the rough labourer 
 missed the prattle of the little one whose 
 untimely end had cast a shadow over the 
 dwelling, and he thoroughly sympathised with 
 his master in his losses ; while, as for the far- 
 mer and his wife, dread of what the future might 
 have in store for them mingled with their sor- 
 row, and added to the heaviness of their hearts. 
 
 ' Isaac, yo' may as weel tek' th' wiggin 27 an' 
 th' horse shoes deawn, for onny use they seem 
 to be on. We 'en nowt to keep th' feorin' off 
 fra' us, an' I deawt we'es come off bud badly 
 till November,' said the farmer, as he knocked 
 the ashes from his pipe. 
 
 * An' why nobbut till November, Ralph,' 
 asked the wife in a terrified voice, as she gazed 
 anxiously towards the little window through 
 which Pendle could be dimly seen looming 
 against the evening sky. 
 
 'Because on O' Hallow neet, mi lass, I 
 meean to leet th' witches 28 on Pendle.'
 
 IQ2 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' Heaven save us !' cried the woman. ' Tha '11 
 be lost as sewer as th' whorld.' 
 
 There was a short silence, and then old 
 Isaac spoke 
 
 'If th' mestur goes, Isik guz too. Wis be 
 company, at onny rate/ 
 
 The farmer gratefully accepted this offer of 
 fellowship, and the appeals of his wife, who 
 implored him to abandon the notion, were of 
 no avail. Others had lighted the witches, and 
 thereby secured a twelvemonth's immunity 
 from harm, and why should not he go and do 
 likewise ? Ruin was staring him in the face if 
 things did not improve, thought he, and his 
 determination to ' leet' his unseen enemies 
 grew stronger and stronger. 
 
 At length the last day of October came, 
 bringing with it huge clouds and a misty rain, 
 which quite obscured the weird hill ; but at 
 nightfall the wind rose, the rain ceased, the 
 stars began to appear, and the huge outline of 
 Pendle became visible:. 
 
 When the day's work was over, the farmer 
 and Isaac sat in the kitchen, waiting for the 
 hour at which they were to start for the 
 haunted mountain, and the dread and lone-
 
 ALLHALLOW S NIGHT. 193 
 
 some building where the witches from all parts 
 gathered in mysterious and infernal conclave. 
 Neither of the men looked forward to the 
 excursion with pleasurable feelings, for, as the 
 emotion caused by the losses had somewhat 
 subsided, terror of the beings who were sup- 
 posed to assemble in the Malkin Tower re- 
 sumed its sway ; but soon after the old clock 
 had chimed ten they rose from the settle 
 and began their preparations for the lighting. 
 Each man grasped a branch of mountain ash, 
 to which several sprigs of bay were tied as a 
 double protection against thunder and light- 
 ning, and any stray fiends that might happen to 
 be lurking about, and each carried in the other 
 hand an unlighted candle. 
 
 As they passed from the house the tearful 
 goodwife cried a blessing upon them, and a 
 massive old bulldog crept from a corner of the 
 yard and took its place at their heels. 
 
 The three stepped along bravely, and before 
 long they had crossed the brook and reached 
 the foot of Pendle. Rapidly making their way 
 to a well-known ravine they paused to light 
 the candles. This operation, performed by 
 means of a flint and steel and a box of tinder, 
 
 13
 
 194 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 occupied som e time ; and while they were 
 so engaged clouds obscured the moon, a few 
 heavy drops of rain fell, the wind ceased 
 to whisper, and an ominous silence reigned, 
 and the dog, as though terrified, crept closer to 
 its master and uttered a low whine. 
 
 'We's hev' a storm, I daat, Isik/ said the 
 farmer. 
 
 ' Ise think mysen weel off an' win nowt else 
 bud a storm,' drily replied the old man, as, 
 lighted candle in hand, he began to climb the 
 hill-side, his master and the dog following 
 closely behind. 
 
 When they had almost reached the top of 
 the ravine a flash of lightning suddenly pierced 
 the darkness, and a peal of thunder seemed to 
 shake the earth beneath them ; while a weird 
 and unearthly shriek of laughter rang in their 
 ears as a black figure flew slowly past them, 
 almost brushing against their faces in its flight. 
 The dog immediately turned and fled, howling 
 terribly as it ran down the hill-side ; but the men 
 went on, each one carefully shading his light 
 with the hand in which the branch of ash was 
 grasped. The road gradually became rougher, 
 and occasionally Isaac stumbled over a stone,
 
 ALLH ALLOW S NIGHT. IQ5 
 
 and almost fell, the farmer frantically shouting 
 to him to be careful of his candle, but without 
 any serious mishap the pair managed to get 
 within sight of the tower. 
 
 Evidently some infernal revelry was going 
 on, for light streamed from the window-open- 
 ings, and above the crash of the thunder came 
 shrieks of discordant laughter. Every now 
 and again a dark figure floated over their 
 heads and whirled in at one of the windows, 
 and the noise became louder, by the addition 
 of another shrill voice. 
 
 ' It mon be drawin' nee midneet,' said the 
 farmer. ' If we con but pass th' hour wis be 
 reet for a twelvemonth. Let 's mek for whoam 
 neaw.' 
 
 Both men readily turned their backs to the 
 building, but no sooner had they done so than 
 a Satanic face, with gleaming eyes, was visible 
 for a moment, and instantaneously both lights 
 were extinguished. 
 
 ' God bless us!' immediately cried both men. 
 
 Almost before the words had left their lips 
 the tower was plunged in total darkness, the 
 shrieks of unholy laughter were suddenly 
 stilled, and sounds were heard as of the rapid
 
 196 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 flight of the hags and their familiars, for the 
 ejaculations had broken up the gathering. 
 
 Terrified beyond measure at the extinction 
 of their lights, but still clinging tenaciously to 
 the branches, which apparently had proved so 
 ineffectual to preserve them against the power 
 of the witches, the men hurried away. They 
 had not proceeded far in the direction in which 
 they supposed the farm lay, when, with a cry, 
 the farmer, who was a little in advance of his 
 aged companion, fell alfd vanished. He had 
 slipped down the cleft, on the brink of which 
 Isaac stood, tremblingly endeavouring to pierce 
 the darkness below. 
 
 Not a sound came up to tell the old man that 
 his master had escaped with his life ; and, as no 
 response came to his shouts, at length he turned 
 away, feeling sure that he was masterless, and 
 hoping to be able to reach the farm, and obtain 
 assistance. After wandering about for some 
 time, however, half-blinded by the lightning, 
 and terrified beyond measure at the result of 
 their mutual boldness, Isaac crept under a large 
 stone, to wait for the dawn. Influenced by the 
 cold and by fatigue, the old man fell asleep; 
 but no sooner had the first faint rays of coming
 
 ALLHALLOW'S NIGHT. IQ7 
 
 day kissed the hill-summit, than he was aroused 
 by the old bulldog licking his face, and as he 
 gazed around in sleepy astonishment some men 
 appeared. The farmer's wife, terrified by the 
 arrival of the howling dog, and the non-arrival 
 of the ' leeters,' had made her way to a distant 
 farm-house and alarmed the inmates, and a 
 party of sturdy fellows had started off to find 
 the missing men. Isaac's story was soon told ; 
 and when the searchers reached the gorge the 
 farmer was found nursing a broken leg. 
 
 Great were the rejoicings of the goodwife 
 when the cavalcade reached the farm, for, bad 
 as matters were, she had expected even a worse 
 ending; and afterwards, when unwont ed pros- 
 perity had blessed the household, she used to 
 say, drily, ' Yo' met ha' kept th' candles in to leet 
 yo' whoam, for it mon ha' bin after midneet 
 when he blew 'em aat,' a joke which invariably 
 caused the farmer and old Isaac to smile grimly.
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 
 
 [ANY years have passed since the living 
 of Walton-le-Dale was held by a 
 gentleman of singularly- reserved and 
 studious habits, who, from noon till night, pored 
 over dusty black-letter folios. Although he 
 was by no means forgetful of the few duties 
 which pertained to his sacred office, and never 
 failed to attend to the wants of those of his 
 parishioners who were in trouble and had need 
 of kind words of sympathy and advice, or even 
 of assistance of a more substantial nature, the 
 length of time he devoted to his mysterious- 
 looking volumes, and a habit he had of talking 
 to himself, as, late at night, with head bent 
 down, he passed along the village street, and 
 vanished into the darkness of a lonely lane, 
 gave rise to cruel rumours that he was a 
 professor of the black art ; and it was even
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 1 99 
 
 whispered that his night walks were pilgrim- 
 ages to unholy scenes of Satanic revelry. 
 These suspicions deepened almost into cer- 
 tainty when the old people who had charge 
 of his house informed the gossips that the 
 contents of a large package, since the arrival 
 of which the women in the village had been 
 unable to sleep for curiosity, were strange- 
 looking bottles, of a weird shape, with awful 
 signs and figures upon them ; and that, during 
 the evening, after the carrier had brought them, 
 noises were heard in the clergyman's room, and 
 the house was filled with sulphurous smoke. 
 Passing from one gossip to another, the story 
 did not fail to receive additions as usual, until 
 when it reached the last house in the straggling 
 village the narrator told how the student had 
 raised the Evil One, who, after filling the house 
 with brimstone, vanished in a ball of fire, not, 
 however, without first having imprinted the 
 mark of his claws upon the study table. 
 
 Had the unconscious clergyman lived more 
 in the everyday world around him, and less in 
 that of black-letter books, he would not have 
 failed to perceive the averted looks with which 
 his parishioners acknowledged his greetings, or,
 
 2OO GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 what would have pained him even more deeply, 
 the frightened manner in which the children 
 either fled at his approach, if they were play- 
 ing in the lanes, or crept close to their parents 
 when he entered the dwellings of the cottagers. 
 Ignorant alike of the absurd rumours, and un- 
 observant of the change which had come over 
 his flock, or at least acting as though unaware 
 of them, the clergyman continued to perform 
 the duties of his sacred office, and to fly from 
 them to his beloved volumes and experiments, 
 growing more and more reserved in his habits, 
 and visibly paling under his close application. 
 
 After matters had gone on in this way for 
 some time, the villagers were surprised to see 
 a friendship spring up and ripen between their 
 pastor and an old resident in the village, of 
 almost equally strange habits. There was, 
 however, in reality but little to wonder at in 
 this, for the similarity between the pursuits and 
 tastes of the two students was sufficiently great 
 to bridge over the gulf of widely-different 
 social positions. 
 
 Abraham, or ' Owd Abrum/ as he was 
 generally named, was a herb doctor, whose 
 knowledge of out-of-the-way plants which pos-
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 2OI 
 
 sessed mysterious medicinal virtues, and of 
 still more wonderful charms and spells, was 
 the theme of conversation by every farmhouse 
 fireside for miles round. At that day, and in 
 that locality, the possession of a few books 
 sufficed to make a man a wonder to his neigh- 
 bours ; and Abraham had a little shelf full of 
 volumes upon his favourite subjects of botany 
 and astrology. 
 
 The old man lived by himself in a little 
 cottage, some distance along a lane leading 
 from the village across the meadows ; and, 
 despite the absence of female supervision, the 
 place always was as clean and bright as a new 
 pin. Had he needed any assistance in his house- 
 hold duties, Abraham would not have asked in 
 vain for it, for he was feared as well as respected. 
 If he was able to charm away evil and sickness, 
 could he not also bring sickness and evil ? So 
 reasoned the simple villagers ; and those who 
 were not, even unconsciously, influenced by the 
 guileless everyday life of the old man, were 
 impressed by the idea that he had the power to 
 cast trouble upon them if they failed to maintain 
 an outward show of reverence. 
 
 However early the villagers might be astir,
 
 2O2 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 as they passed along the lanes on their way to 
 their labour in the fields, they were certain to 
 find ' Owd Abrum ' searching by the hedgerows 
 or in the plantations for herbs, to be gathered 
 with the dew upon them ; and at night the 
 belated cottager, returning from a distant farm, 
 was equally certain of finding Abraham gazing 
 at the heavens, ' finding things aat abaat fowk,' 
 as the superstitious country people said and 
 believed. 
 
 Addicted to such nocturnal studies, it was not 
 likely that the old herb doctor and the pale 
 student would remain unknown to each other. 
 The acquaintance however, owing to the re- 
 served habits of both, began in a somewhat 
 singular manner. Returning from a long and 
 late walk about midnight, the minister was still 
 some distance from his abode, when he heard 
 a clear voice say : ' Now is the time, if I can 
 find any : Jupiter is angular, the moon's applied 
 to him, and his aspect is good.' 
 
 The night was somewhat cloudy the stars 
 being visible only at intervals and it was not 
 until the clergyman had advanced a little way 
 chat he was able to perceive the person who 
 had spoken. He saw that it was the old
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 2C>3 
 
 herbalist, and immediately accosted him. An 
 animated conversation followed, Abraham ex- 
 patiating on the virtues of the plants he had 
 been gathering under the dominion of their 
 respective planets, and astonishing the pale 
 student by the extent of his information. In 
 his turn, the old man was delighted to find in 
 the clergyman a fellow-enthusiast in the for- 
 bidden ways of science ; and as the student was 
 no less charmed to discover in the ' yarb doctor ' 
 a scholar who could sympathise with him and 
 understand his yearnings after the invisible, late 
 as was the hour, the pair adjourned to Abraham's 
 cottage. The visitor did not emerge until the 
 labourers were going to their toil, the time 
 having been spent in conversation upon the 
 powers exercised by the planets upon plants 
 and men, the old man growing eloquent as to 
 the wonderful virtue of the Bay Tree, which, he 
 said, could resist all the evil Saturn could do to 
 the human body, and in the neighbourhood of 
 which neither wizard nor devil, thunder or 
 lightning, could hurt man ; of Moonwort, with 
 the leaves of which locks might be opened, and 
 the shoes be removed from horses' feet ; of 
 Celandine, with which, if a young swallow
 
 2O4 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 loseth an eye, the parent birds will renew it ; of 
 Hound's Tongue, a leaf of which laid under the 
 foot will save the bearer from the attacks of 
 dogs ; of Bugloss, the leaf of which maketh 
 man poison-proof; of Sweet Basil, from which 
 (quoting Miraldus) venomous beasts spring 
 the man who smelleth it having a scorpion bred 
 in his brain ; and of a score of other herbs 
 under the dominion of the Moon and Cancer, 
 and of the cures wrought by them through 
 antipathy to Saturn. 
 
 From that time the pair became intimate 
 friends, the clergyman yielding, with all the 
 ardour of youth, to the attraction which drew 
 him towards the learned old man ; and 
 Abraham gradually growing to love the pale- 
 faced student, whose thirst after knowledge 
 was as intense as his own. Seldom a day 
 passed on which one of them might not have 
 been observed on his way to the abode of the 
 other ; and often at night the pair walked 
 together, their earnest voices disturbing the 
 slumbering echoes, as at unholy hours they 
 passed up the hill, and through the old church- 
 yard, with its moss-covered stones and its rank 
 vegetation.
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 2O5 
 
 Upon one of these occasions they had talked 
 about supernatural appearances ; and as they 
 were coming through the somewhat neglected 
 God's Acre, the clergyman said he had read, 
 in an old volume, that to anyone who dared, 
 after the performance of certain ghastly cere- 
 monies, wait in the church porch on Christmas- 
 eve, the features of those who were to die 
 during the following year would be revealed, 
 and that he intended upon the night before the 
 coming festival to try the spell. The old man 
 at once expressed a wish to take part in the 
 trial, and before the two parted it was agreed 
 that both should go through the preliminary 
 charms, and keep the vigil. 
 
 In due time the winter came, with its sweet 
 anodyne of snow, and as Christmas approached 
 everything was got in readiness. 
 
 Soon after sunset on Christmas-eve the old 
 herb doctor wended his way to the dwelling of his 
 friend, taking with him St. John's Wort, Mountain 
 Ash, Bay leaves, and Holly. The enthusiasts 
 passed the evening in conversation upon the 
 mysterious qualities of graveyard plants ; but 
 shortly after the clock struck eleven they arose, 
 and began to prepare for the vigil, by taking
 
 2O6 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 precautions against the inclemency of the 
 weather, for the night was very cold, large 
 flakes of snow falling silently and thickly upon 
 the frozen ground. 
 
 When both were ready the old man stepped 
 to the door to see that the road was clear, for, 
 in order to go through the form of incantation, 
 a small fire was requisite ; and as they were 
 about to convey it in a can, they were anxious 
 that the strange proceeding should not be 
 noticed by the villagers. Late as it was, how- 
 ever, lights shone here and there in the 
 windows, and even from the doorways, for, 
 although it was near midnight, many of the 
 cottage doors were wide open, it being believed 
 that if, on Christmas-eve, the way was thus 
 left clear, and a member of the family read the 
 Gospel according to St. Luke, the saint himself 
 would pass through the house. 
 
 As the two men, after carefully closing the 
 door behind them, stepped into the road, a 
 distant singer trolled forth a seasonable old 
 hymn. This was the only noise, however, the 
 village street being deserted. They reached 
 the churchyard without having been observed, 
 and at once made their way round the sacred
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 2OJ 
 
 building, so as not to be exposed to the view 
 of any chance reveller returning to his home. 
 It was well that they did so, for they had 
 hardly deposited the can of burning charcoal 
 upon a tombstone ere sounds of footsteps, 
 somewhat muffled by the snow, were heard, 
 and several men passed through the wicket. 
 They were, however, only the ringers, on their 
 way to the belfry, and in a few minutes they 
 had entered the building, and all was still again 
 for a few moments, when, upon the ears of the 
 somewhat nervous men there fell the voices of 
 choristers singing under the window of a neigh- 
 bouring house the old Lancashire carol 
 
 ' As I sat anonder yon green tree, 
 Yon green tree, yon green tree 
 
 As I sat anonder yon green tree 
 A Christmas day in the morning.' ^ 
 
 The words could be heard distinctly, and 
 almost unconsciously the two men stood to 
 listen ; but directly the voices ceased the 
 student asked if they had not better begin, as 
 the time was passing rapidly. 
 
 ' Ay,' replied Abraham, ' we han it to do, 
 an' we'd better ger it ower.' 
 
 Without any more words they entered the
 
 2O8 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 porch, and at once made a circle around them 
 with leaves of Vervain, Bay, and Holly. The old 
 man gave to his companion a branch of Wiggin- 
 tree, 27 and firmly held another little bough, as 
 with his disengaged hand he scattered a powder 
 upon the embers. A faint odour floated around 
 them, as they chanted a singular Latin prayer; 
 and no sooner was the last word uttered than a 
 strain of sweet sad music, too inexpressibly soft 
 and mournful to be of earth, was heard. Every 
 moment it seemed to be dying away in a de- 
 licious cadence, but again and again was the 
 weird melody taken up by the invisible singers, 
 as the listeners sank to their knees spell-bound. 
 An icy breath of wind hissed round the porch, 
 however, and called the entranced men to their 
 senses, and suddenly the student grasped the 
 arm of his aged companion, and cried, in a terri- 
 fied voice 
 
 ' Abraham, the spell works. Behold ! ' 
 The old man gazed in the direction pointed 
 out, and, to his inexpressible horror, saw a pro- 
 cession wending its way towards the porch. It 
 consisted of a stream of figures wrapped up in 
 grave-clothes, gleaming white in the dim light 
 With solemn and noiseless steps the ghastly
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 2O9 
 
 objects approached the circle in which stood 
 the venturesome men, and, as they drew nearer, 
 the faces of the first two could be seen distinctly, 
 for the blazing powder cast a lurid glow upon 
 them, and made them even more ghastly. 
 
 Both spectators had almost unconsciously 
 recognised the features of several of the vil- 
 lagers, when they were aroused from their 
 lethargy of terror by the appearance of one face, 
 which seemed to linger longer than its predeces- 
 sors had done. Abraham at once saw that the 
 likeness was that of the man by his side, and 
 the clergyman sank to the ground in a swoon. 
 
 For some time the old man was too much 
 affected by the lingering face to think of restor- 
 ing the unconscious man at his feet; but at 
 length the clashing of the bells over his head, 
 as they rang forth a Christmas greeting, called 
 him to himself, and he bent over the prostrate 
 form of his friend. The minister soon re- 
 covered, but as he was too weak to walk, the 
 old man ran to the belfry to beg the ringers to 
 come to his assistance. When these men came 
 round to the porch the fire was still burning, 
 the flickering flames of various colours casting 
 dancing shadows upon the walls.
 
 2IO GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 ' Abraham/ said one of the ringers, ' there's 
 bin some wizzard wark goin' on here, an' yo' 
 sin what yo'n getten by it.' 
 
 ' Han yo' bin awsin to raise th' devul, an' 
 Kesmus-eve an' o' ?' asked another, in a low 
 and terrified voice. 
 
 With a satirical smile, Abraham answered the 
 last speaker : 'It dusn't need o' this mak' o' 
 things to raise th' devul, lad. He's nare so far 
 fra' thuse as wants him.' 
 
 Bearing the clergyman in their arms, the 
 men walked through the village, but they did 
 not separate without having, in return for the 
 confidence Abraham reposed in them by con- 
 fiding to them the secret of the vigil, promised 
 strict secrecy as to what they had witnessed. 
 
 Abraham's companion soon recovered from 
 the shock, but not before the story of the 
 night-watch had gone the round of the village. 
 Many were the appeals made to the old herb- 
 alist to reveal his strangely-acquired know- 
 ledge, but Abraham remained sternly obdurate, 
 remarking to each of his questioners 
 
 ' Yo'll know soon enough, mebbi.' 
 
 The clergyman, however, was in a more awk- 
 ward position, and his parishioners soon made
 
 THE CHRISTMAS-EVE VIGIL. 2 I I 
 
 him aware how unwise he had been in giving 
 way to the desire to pry into futurity ; for, when 
 any of them were ill and he expressed a kindly 
 wish for their recovery, it was by no means un- 
 usual for the sick person to reply 
 
 ' Yo could tell me heaw it will end iv yo' 
 loiked.' 
 
 This oftentimes being followed by a petition 
 from the assembled relatives 
 
 ' Will yo tell us if he wir one o' th' proces- 
 sioners ?' 
 
 Ultimately Abraham's companion went away, 
 in the hope of returning when the memory of 
 the watch should have become less keen, but, 
 before a few months had passed away, news 
 came of his death, after a violent attack of fever 
 caught during a visit to a wretched hovel in 
 the fishing village where he was staying. By 
 the next December, all the people whose fea- 
 tures the old herbalist had recognised during 
 the procession had been carried to the church- 
 yard; but, although several men offered to 
 accompany Abraham to the porch on the forth- 
 coming Christmas-eve, he dared not again go 
 through the spells and undergo the terrors of 
 a church-porch vigil. 30
 
 THE CRIER OF CLAIFE. 
 
 PON a wild winter night, some centuries 
 ago, the old man who plied the ferry- 
 boat on Windermere, and who lived 
 in a lonely cottage on the Lancashire side of 
 the Lake, was awakened from his sleep by an 
 exceedingly shrill and terrible shriek, which 
 seemed to come from the opposite shore. The 
 wind was whistling and moaning round the 
 house, and for a little while the ferryman and 
 his family fancied that the cry by which they 
 had been disturbed was nothing more than one 
 of the mournful voices of the storm ; but soon 
 again came another shriek, even more awe- 
 inspiring than the former one, and this was 
 followed by smothered shouts and groans of a 
 most unearthly nature. 
 
 Against the wishes of his terrified relatives, 
 who clung to him, and besought him to remain
 
 THE CRIER OF CLAIFE. 2 I 3 
 
 indoors, the old fellow bravely determined to 
 cross the water, and heeding not the prayers of 
 his wife and daughter, he unfastened his boat, 
 and rowed away. The two women, clasped in 
 each other's arms, trembling with fear, stood at 
 the little door, and endeavoured to make out 
 the form of their protector ; but the darkness 
 was too deep for them to see anything upon 
 the lake. At intervals, however, the terrible 
 cry rang out through the gloom, and shrieks 
 and moans were heard loud above the mys- 
 terious noises of the night. 
 
 In a state of dreadful suspense and terror 
 the women stood for some time, but at length 
 they saw the boat suddenly emerge from the 
 darkness, and shoot into the little cove. To 
 their great surprise, however, the ferryman, 
 who could be seen sitting alone, made no effort 
 to land, and make his way to the cottage ; so, 
 fearing that something dreadful had happened 
 to him, and, impelled by love, they rushed to 
 the side of the lake. They found the old man 
 speechless, his face as white and blanched as 
 the snow upon the Nab, and his whole body 
 trembling under the influence of terror, and 
 they immediately led him to the cottage, but
 
 214 GOBLIN" TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 though appealed to, to say what terrible object 
 he had seen, he made no other response than 
 an occasional subdued moan. For several days 
 he remained in that state, deaf to their piteous 
 entreaties, and staring at them with wild-look- 
 ing eyes ; but at length the end came, and, 
 during the gloaming of a beautiful day, he 
 died, without having revealed to those around 
 him what he had seen when, in answer to the 
 midnight cry, he had rowed the ferry-boat 
 across the storm-ruffled lake. 
 
 After the funeral had taken place the women 
 left the house, its associations being too pain- 
 ful to permit of their stay, and went to live 
 at Hawkshead, whence two sturdy men, with 
 their respective families, removed to the ferry. 
 The day following that of the arrival of the 
 new-comers was rough and wild, and, soon 
 after darkness had hidden everything in its 
 sable folds, across the lake came the fearful 
 cry, followed by a faint shout for a boat, and 
 screams and moans. The men, hardy as they 
 were, and often as they had laughed at the 
 story told by the widow of the dead man, no 
 sooner heard the first shriek ring through the 
 cottage than they were smitten with terror.
 
 THE CRIER OF CLAIFE. 2 I 5 
 
 Profiting, however, by the experience of their 
 predecessor, and influenced by fear, they did 
 not make any attempt to cross the lake, and 
 the cries continued until some time after mid- 
 night. 
 
 Afterwards, whenever the day closed 
 gloomily, and ushered in a stormy night, and 
 the wind lashed the water of the lake into fury, 
 the terrible noises were heard with startling 
 distinctness, until at length the dwellers in the 
 cottage became so accustomed to the noises as 
 not to be disturbed by them, or, if disturbed, 
 to fall asleep again after an ejaculation of ' t' 
 crier !' Pedlars and others who had to cross 
 the lake, however, were not so hardened, and 
 after a time the ferry-boat was almost disused, 
 for the superstitious people did not dare to 
 cross the haunted water, save in the broad 
 daylight of summer. 
 
 It therefore struck the two individuals who 
 were most concerned in the maintenance of the 
 ferry that if they intended to live they must do 
 something to rid the place of its bad name, and 
 of the unseen being who had driven away all 
 their patrons. In their extremity they asked 
 each other who should help them, if not the
 
 2l6 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 holy monks, who had come over the sea to the 
 abbey in the Valley of Deadly Night Shade ; 
 and one of the ferrymen at once set out for 
 Furness. No sooner had he set eyes upon the 
 stately pile erected by the Savignian and his 
 companions than his heart felt lighter, for he had 
 a simple faith in the marvellous power of the 
 white-robed men, whose voices were seldom if 
 ever heard, save when lifted in worship during 
 one of their seven daily services. 
 
 Knocking at the massive door, he was re- 
 ceived by a ruddy-looking servitor, who ushered 
 him into the presence of the abbot. The ferry- 
 man soon told his story, and begged that a 
 monk might return with him to lay the troubled 
 spirit, and after hearing the particulars of the 
 visitation, the abbot granted the request, mak- 
 ing a proviso, however, that the abbey coffers 
 should not be forgotten when the lake was freed 
 from the fiend. 
 
 No sooner had the visitor finished the meal 
 set before him by the hospitable monks than, 
 in company with one of the holy men, he set 
 out homeward. As, by a rule of his order, 
 the monk was not permitted to converse, the 
 journey was not an enlivening one, and the
 
 THE CRIER OF CLAIFE. 2 I 7 
 
 ferryman was heartily glad when they reached 
 his cottage. 
 
 The first night passed without any alarm, the 
 monk and his hosts spending the dreary hours 
 in watching and waiting. The following day, 
 however, was as stormy as the worst enemy of 
 the ferry could have wished, and, when night 
 fell, all the dwellers in the cottage, as well as 
 the silent monk, gathered together again to wait 
 for the cries, but some hours passed without 
 any other sounds having been heard than those 
 caused by the restless wind, as it swept over 
 the lake and among the trees. The Cistercian 
 was beginning to imagine himself the victim of 
 an irreverent practical joke, and that the stones 
 of the spectral crier which had reached the 
 distant abbey long before the ferryman's visit 
 were a pack of falsehoods, when about midnight, 
 he suddenly jumped from the chair upon which 
 he was dozing by the wood fire, hastily made 
 the sign of the cross, and hurriedly commended 
 himself to the protection of his patron saint, for 
 sharp and clear came the dread cry, followed 
 rapidly by a number of shrieks and groans and 
 a smothered appeal for a boat. 
 
 In an instant one of the men, with courage
 
 2l8 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 doubtless inspired by the presence of the holy 
 man, shouldered the oars and opened the door, 
 and the monk at once stepped into the open air 
 and hurried to the lake, the men following at 
 a respectful distance. The white-robed father 
 was the first to get into the boat, and the ferry- 
 men hoped that he intended to go alone, but 
 he called upon them to propel the boat to the 
 middle of the lake, and much as they disliked 
 the task, as it was- on their behalf that the 
 monk was about to combat the evil spirit, they 
 could not well refuse to accompany him. 
 
 When they were about half-way across the 
 lake the wind suddenly lulled, and once more 
 they heard the awful scream, and this time it 
 sounded as though the crier was quite close to 
 them. The occupants of the boat were terribly 
 frightened, and one of them, after suddenly 
 shrieking ' he's here,' fainted, and lay still at 
 the bottom of the boat, while the monk and the 
 other man stared straight before them, as 
 though petrified. 
 
 There was a fourth person present, a grim 
 and ghastly figure, with the trappings of this 
 life still dangling about its withered and 
 shrunken limbs, and a gaping wound in its
 
 THE CRIER OF CLAIFE. 2 19 
 
 pallid throat. For a few minutes there was a 
 dead silence, but at last it was broken by the 
 monk, who rapidly muttered a prayer for pro- 
 tection against evil spirits, and then took a 
 bottle from a pocket of his robe, and sprinkled 
 a few drops of holy water upon himself and the 
 ferryman, who remained in the same statuesque 
 attitude, and upon the unconscious occupant of 
 the bottom of the boat. After this ceremony, 
 he opened a little book, and, in a sonorous 
 voice, intoned the form for the exorcism of a 
 wandering soul, concluding with Vade ad 
 Gehennam ! when to the infinite relief of the 
 ferryman, and probably of the monk also, the 
 ghastly figure forthwith vanished. 
 
 The Cistercian asked to be immediately 
 taken to the shore, and when he neared the 
 house, the little book was again brought into re- 
 quisition, and the spirit's visits, should it ever 
 again put in an appearance, limited to an old and 
 disused quarry, a distance from the cottage. 31 
 
 From that time to this, the wild, lonely place 
 has indeed been desolate and deserted, the 
 boldest people of the district not having suffi- 
 cient courage to venture near it at nightfall, and 
 the more timid ones shunning the locality even
 
 22O GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 at noonday. These folks aver that even yet, 
 despite the prayers and exorcisms of the white- 
 robed Cistercian from Furness, whenever a 
 storm descends upon the lake, the Crier escapes 
 from his temporary prison house, and revisits 
 the scene of his first and second appearance to 
 men, and that on such nights, loud above the 
 echoed rumble of the thunder, and the lonely 
 sough of the wind, the benighted wayfarer still 
 hears the wild shrieks and the muffled cry for a 
 boat
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 
 
 E a fortress and a mansion, but now, 
 unfortunately, little more than a noble 
 ruin, Hoghton Tower stands on one 
 of the most commanding sites in Lancashire. 
 From the fine old entrance-gate a beautiful 
 expanse of highly-cultivated land slopes down 
 and stretches away to the distant sea, glimmer- 
 ing like a strip of molten silver; and on either 
 hand there are beautiful woods, in the old 
 times * so full of tymber that a man ^passing 
 through could scarce have 'seen the stm shine 
 in the middle of the day.' At the foot of these 
 wooded heights a little river ripples through a 
 wild ravine, and meanders through the rich 
 meadows to the proud Ribble. From the 
 building itself, however, the glory has departed. 
 Over the noble gateway, with its embattled 
 towers, and in one of the fast-decaying wains-
 
 222 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 cots, the old family arms, with the motto, Mai 
 Gre le Tort, still remain ; but. these things, and 
 a few mouldering portraits, are all that are left 
 there to tell of the stately women who, from 
 the time of Elizabeth down to comparatively 
 modern days, pensively watched the setting 
 sun gild the waters of the far-off Irish Sea, and 
 dreamed of lovers away in the wars trifling 
 things to be the only unwritten records of the 
 noble men who buckled on their weapons, and 
 climbed into the turrets to gaze over the road 
 along which would come the expected besieg- 
 ing parties. Gone are the gallants and their 
 ladies, the roystering Cavalier and the patient 
 but none the less brave Puritan, for, as Isaac 
 Ambrose has recorded, during the troublous 
 times of the Restoration, the place, with its 
 grand banqueting chamber, its fine old stair- 
 cases, and quaint little windows, was ' a colledge 
 for religion.' The old Tower resounds no 
 more with the gay song of the one or the 
 solemn hymn of the other, 
 
 ' Men may come, and men may go,' 
 
 and an old tradition outlives them all. 
 
 To this once charming mansion there came,
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 223 
 
 long ago, a young man, named Edgar Astley. 
 His sable garments told that he mourned the 
 loss of a relative or friend ; and he had not 
 been long at the Tower before it began to be 
 whispered in the servants'-hall that * the trap- 
 pings and the suits of woe' were worn in 
 memory of a girl who had been false to him, 
 and who had died soon after her marriage to 
 his rival. This story in itself was sufficient to 
 throw a halo of romance around the young 
 visitor ; but when it was rumoured that domes- 
 tics, who had been returning to the Tower 
 late at night, had seen strange-coloured lights 
 burning in Edgar's room, and that, even at 
 daybreak, the early risers had seen the lights 
 still unextinguished, and the shadow of the 
 watcher pass across the curtains, an element of 
 fear mingled with the feelings with which he 
 was regarded. 
 
 There was much in the visitor calculated to 
 deepen the impressions by which the super- 
 stitious domestics were influenced, for, sur- 
 rounded by an atmosphere of gloom, out of 
 which he seemed to start when any of them 
 addressed him, and appearing studiously to 
 shun all the society which it was possible for
 
 224 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 him to avoid, he spent most of his time alone, 
 seated beneath the spreading branches of the 
 giant oak tree at the end of the garden, reading 
 black-letter volumes, and plunged in medita- 
 tion. Not that he was in any way rude to his 
 hosts ; on the contrary, he was almost chival- 
 rous in his attention to the younger members 
 of the family and to the ladies of the house, 
 who, in their turn, regarded him with affec- 
 tionate pity, and did their utmost to wean him 
 from his lonely pursuits. Yet, although he 
 would willingly accompany them through the 
 woods, or to the distant town, the approach of 
 the gloaming invariably found him in his usual 
 place beneath the shadow of the gnarled old 
 boughs, either poring over his favourite books, 
 or, with eyes fixed upon vacancy, lost in a 
 reverie. 
 
 Time would, the kind people thought, bring 
 balm to his wounds, and in the meanwhile they 
 were glad to have their grief-stricken friend 
 with them; and fully appreciating their sym- 
 pathy, Edgar came and went about the place 
 and grounds just as the whim of the moment 
 took him. This absence of curiosity on the 
 part of the members of the family was. how-
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 225 
 
 ever, amply compensated for by the open 
 wonder with which many of the domestics 
 regarded the young stranger ; and before he 
 had been many months in the house his 
 nightly vigils were the theme of many a 
 serious conversation in the kitchen, where, in 
 front of a cosy fire, the gossips gathered to 
 compare notes. 
 
 Unable to repress their vulgar curiosity, or 
 to gratify it in any more honourable or less 
 dangerous manner, it was determined that one 
 of the domestics should, at the hour of twelve, 
 creep to the door of the visitor's chamber, and 
 endeavour to discover what was the nature of 
 those pursuits which rendered lights necessary 
 during the whole of the night. The selection 
 was soon made, and after a little demur the 
 chosen one agreed to perform the unpleasant 
 task. 
 
 At midnight, therefore, the trembling ambas- 
 sador made his way to the distant door, and 
 after a little hesitation, natural enough under 
 the circumstances, he stooped, and gazed 
 through a hole in the dried oak whence a knot 
 had fallen. Edgar Astley was seated at a 
 little table, an old black-looking book with 
 15
 
 226 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 huge clasps open before him. With one hand 
 he shaded his eyes from the light which fell 
 upon his face from the flames of many colours 
 dancing in a tall brazen cup. Suddenly, how- 
 ever, he turned from his book, and put a few 
 pinches of a bright-looking powder to the burn- 
 ing matter in the stand. A searching and 
 sickly odour immediately filled the room, and 
 the quivering flames blazed upwards with in- 
 creased life and vigour as the student turned 
 once more to the ponderous tome, and, after 
 hastily glancing down its pages, muttered : 
 ' Strange that I cannot yet work the spell. 
 All things named here have I sought for and 
 found, even blood of bat, dead man's hand, 
 venom of viper, root of gallows mandrake, and 
 flesh of unbaptized and strangled babe. Am 
 I, then, not to succeed until I try the charm of 
 charms at the risk of life itself? And yet,' 
 said he, unconscious of the presence of the 
 terrified listener, ' what should I fear ? So far 
 have I gone uninjured, and now will I proceed 
 to the triumphant or the bitter end. Once I 
 would have given the future happiness of my 
 soul to have called her by my name, and now 
 what is this paltry life to me that I should
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 227 
 
 hesitate to risk it in this quest, and perhaps 
 win one glimpse of her face ?' 
 
 There was a moment of silence as the student 
 bent his head over the book, but though no 
 other person was visible, the listener, to his 
 horror, quickly heard a sharp hissing voice ask, 
 ' And wouldst thou not even yet give thy soul in 
 exchange for speech with thy once betrothed ?' 
 The student hastily stood erect, and rapidly 
 cried : ' Let me not be deceived ! Whatever 
 thou art, if thou canst bring her to me my soul 
 shall be thine now and for ever ! ' 
 
 There was a dead hush for a minute or 
 two, during which the lout at the door heard 
 the beating of his own heart, and then the 
 invisible being again spoke : ' Be it so. Thou 
 hast but one spell left untried. When that has 
 been done thou shalt have thy reward. Be- 
 neath the oak at midnight she shall be brought 
 to thee. Darest thou first behold me ? ' 
 
 ' I have no fear, ' calmly replied the student, 
 but such was not the state of the petrified 
 listener, for no sooner had the lights com- 
 menced to burn a weird blue than he sank 
 fainting against the door. 
 
 When he came to consciousness he was
 
 228 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 within the awful room, the student having 
 dragged him in when he fell. 
 
 ' What art thou, wherefore dost thou watch 
 me at this hour, and what hast thou seen ? ' 
 sternly demanded Edgar, addressing the 
 terrified boor, and in few and trembling words 
 the unhappy domestic briefly answered the 
 queries ; but the student did not permit him to 
 leave the chamber, through the little window 
 of which the dawn was streaming, before he 
 had sworn that not a word as to anything he 
 he had seen or heard should pass his lips. 
 The solemnity of the vow was deepened by 
 the mysterious and ?wful threats with which it 
 was accompanied, and the servant, therefore, 
 loudly protested to his fellows that he had not 
 seen or heard anything, but that, overcome by 
 his patient watching, he had fallen asleep at the 
 door ; and many were the congratulations which 
 followed when it was imagined what the conse- 
 quences would have been had he been dis- 
 covered in his strange resting-place. 
 
 The day following that of the adventure passed 
 over without anything remarkable beyond the 
 absence of Edgar from his usual seat under the 
 shade of the giant oak, but the night set in
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 2 29 
 
 stormily, dark clouds scudded before the wind, 
 which swept up from the distant sea, and 
 moaned around the old tower, whirling the 
 fallen leaves in fantastic dances about the 
 garden and the green, and shaking in its rage 
 even the iron boughs of the oak. The house- 
 hold had retired early, and at eleven o'clock 
 only Edgar and another were awake. In the 
 student's chamber the little lamp was burning 
 and the book lay open as usual, and Edgar 
 pored over the pages, but at times he glanced 
 impatiently at the quaint clock. At length, 
 with a sigh of relief, he said, sternly and sadly, 
 ' The time draws nigh, and once more we shall 
 meet!' He then gathered together a few 
 articles from different corners of the room and 
 stepped out upon the broad landing, passed 
 down the noble old staircase, and out from the 
 hall. Here he was met by a cold blast of wind, 
 which shrieked round him, as though rejoicing 
 over its prey ; and as Edgar was battling with 
 it, a man emerged from a recess and joined 
 him. 
 
 The night was quite dark, not a star or a rift 
 in the sky visible, and the two men could hardly 
 pick their way along the well-known path.
 
 230 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 They reached the oak tree, however, and Edgar 
 placed the materials at its foot, and at once, with 
 a short wand, drew a large circle around the 
 domestic and himself. This done, he placed a 
 little cauldron on the grass, and filled it with a 
 red powder, which, although the wind was roar- 
 ing through the branches above, immediately 
 blazed up with a steady flame. 
 
 The old mastiffs chained under the gateway 
 began to howl dismally ; but, regardless of the 
 omen, 32 Edgar struck the ground three times 
 with his hazel stick, and cried in a loud voice : 
 ' Spirit of my love, I conjure thee obey my 
 words, and verily and truly come to me this 
 night !' 
 
 Hardly had he spoken when a shadowy figure 
 of a beautiful child appeared, as though floating 
 around the magic ring. The servant sank upon 
 his knees, but the student regarded it not, and 
 it vanished, and the terrified listener again 
 heard Edgar's voice as he uttered another con- 
 juration. No sooner had he begun this than 
 terrible claps of thunder were heard, lightning 
 flashed round the tree, flocks of birds flew 
 across the garden and dashed themselves 
 against the window of the student's chamber,
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 2$ I 
 
 where a light still flickered ; and, loud above 
 the noises of the storm, cocks could be heard 
 shrilly crowing, and owls uttering their mourn- 
 ful cries. In the midst of this hubbub the 
 necromancer calmly went on with his incanta- 
 tion, concluding with the dread words : ' Spirit 
 of my love, I conjure thee to fulfil my will with- 
 out deceit or tarrying, and without power over 
 my soul or body earthly or ghostly ! If thou 
 comest not, then let the shadow and the dark- 
 ness of death be upon thee for ever and ever !' 
 
 As the last word left his lips the storm abated 
 its violence, and comparative silence followed. 
 Suddenly the little flame in the cauldron flared 
 up some yards in height, and sweet voices 
 chanting melodiously could be heard. ' Art 
 thou prepared to behold the dead ?' asked an 
 invisible being. 
 
 ' I am !' undauntedly answered Edgar. 
 
 An appearance as of a thick mist gathered 
 opposite him, and slowly, in the midst of it, the 
 outlines of a beautiful human face, with mourn- 
 ful eyes, in which earthly love still lingered, 
 could be discerned. 
 
 Clad in the garments of the grave, the 
 betrothed of Edgar Astley appeared before him.
 
 232 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 For some time the young man gazed upon 
 her as though entranced, but at length he slowly 
 extended his arms as though to embrace the 
 beautiful phantom. The domestic fell upon his 
 face like one stricken by death, the spectre 
 vanished, and again the pealing thunder broke 
 forth. 
 
 ' Thou art for ever mine,' cried a hissing 
 voice ; but as the words broke upon the ears of 
 the two men, the door of the mansion was flung 
 open, and the old baronet and a number of the 
 servants, who had been disturbed by the 
 violence of the storm, the howling of the dogs, 
 and the shrill cries of the birds, rushed forth. 
 
 ' Come not near me if ye would save your- 
 selves/ cried the necromancer. 
 
 ' We would save thee,' shouted the old man, 
 still advancing. ' In nomine Patris' said he, 
 solemnly, as he neared the magic circle ; and 
 no sooner had the words left his lips than 
 sudden stillness fell upon the scene ; the light- 
 ning no longer flashed round the oak ; and, as 
 the flame in the cauldron sank down, the moon 
 broke through a cloud, and threw her soft light 
 over the old garden. 
 
 Edgar was leaning against the oak tree, his
 
 THE DEMON OF THE OAK. 233 
 
 eyes fixed in the direction where the image of 
 his betrothed had appeared ; and when they led 
 him away, it was as one leads a trusting child, 
 for the light of reason had left him. The 
 unfortunate domestic, being less sensitive, re- 
 tained his faculties ; but he ever afterwards 
 bore upon his wrist, as if deeply burned into the 
 flesh, the marks of a broad thumb and fingers, 
 This strange appearance he was wont to explain 
 to stray visitors, by saying that when, terrified 
 almost out of his wits, he fell to the ground, his 
 hand was outside the magic circle, and ' summat' 
 seized him ; which lucid explanation was gen- 
 erally followed up by an old and privileged 
 servitor, who remarked, ' Tha'll t' hev mooar 
 marks nor thuse on tha' next toime as He grabs 
 tha', mi lad.'
 
 THE BLACK COCK. 
 
 JY,' said Old 'Lijah, ' I mind one time 
 when they said th' Owd Lad his- 
 sel appear't i' broad dayleet, an' wir 
 seen bi hunderts o' fowk, owd an' yung.' 
 
 There was a dead silence for a little while as 
 the listeners gathered nearer the blazing fire, 
 two or three of them getting a little further 
 away from the door, against which the wind 
 was dashing the snow, and then 'Lijah re- 
 sumed : ' When I wir a lad, me an' mi mestur 
 wer ast to a berryin. Ther wer a deeol o' drink 
 stirrin, th' coffee pot, wi th' lemon peel hangin 
 aat, gooin abaat fray one side to th' tother fast 
 enough, and at last o' wer ready, but just as 
 they wer baan to lift th' coffin a clap o' thunder 
 shuke th' varra glasses o' th' table. 
 
 ' Th' chaps as hed howd stopped a bit an' 
 lukt raand, but th' deead chap's feythur shouted, 
 " Come on, lads, or wist be late, an' th' paason
 
 THE BLACK COCK. 235 
 
 waynt berry ;" so they piked off, but no sooner 
 bed they getten' i' th' street nor a lad i' th' craad 
 cried out, "Heigh, chaps, luk at th' blackcock 3 * 
 on th' top o' th' coffin," an' sure enough theer it 
 wor. One o' th' beerers said directly as they'd 
 enough to carry wi'out ony passingers, an' up 
 wi' his fist an' knockt it off, but it wer on 
 ageean in a minit, an one bi' one they o' hed a 
 slap at it, but every time it wer knockt off back 
 it flew to it' place at th' deead mon's feet, so at 
 last th' owd mon give th' word of command, an' 
 off they startit wi' th' looad. Th' craad geet 
 bigger afooar they reached th' owd country 
 church wheer he hed to be berried, an' th' fowk 
 geet a throwin stooans at th' black bird, an' 
 hittin it wi' sticks an' shaatin at it, but it stuck 
 theer like a fixter. 
 
 ' After a while we reached th' graveyart, an' 
 th' paason come deawn th' road fray th' church 
 door to meet th' coffin, an' he wer just baan to 
 start th' service when he see th' brid an' 
 stopped. 
 
 ' " What han yo' got theere ?" he says, lukin 
 varra vext, for he thowt some marlock wer 
 gooin on. " What han yo' theere, men ? " 
 
 ' Th' owd feythur stepped forrut an' towd
 
 236 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 him what hed happent, an' as nooan on 'em 
 could freetun it off it peeark naythur wi' sticks 
 or stooans or sweearin. 
 
 ' " It's a strange tale," said th' vicar, " but we 
 moant hev no brids here ! Yo' fowk keep eaut 
 o' th' graveyart nobbut thuse as is invitet to th' 
 funeral ! I'll settle him for yo ! " an' so sayin 
 he grabbed howd o' th' cock, an' walked o'er 
 th' graves wi' it to a place wheer th' bruk run 
 under th' hedges, an' then he bent deawn o' th' 
 floor an' dipped th' bird i'th' watter, an' held it 
 theer for abaat a quarter ov an hour. 
 
 ' No sooner had he getten up, heawever, nor 
 th' brid flew up eaut o' th' watter quite unhort, 
 an' hopped o'er th' grass to th' coffin an' peearkt 
 ageean as if nowt hed happent. 
 
 ' Th' vicar lukt varra consarnt for a while, 
 an' skrat his yed as he staret at th' fowk. 
 
 1 Theer's summat not reet abaat that brid,' 
 he said, ' but that's no rayson why we shouldn't 
 bury th' deead ! ' an' he pottert off toart th' 
 grave, an' th' beerers carriet th' coffin to th' 
 side, an' th' sarvice wer gone through, wi' th' 
 bird harkenin every word like a Christian. 
 
 'Th' chaps then startit o' lowerin th' coffin 
 into th' grave, an' th' brid still stuck o' th'
 
 THE BLACK COCK. 237 
 
 peeark, an' it wer nobbut when th' hole wer 
 filled, as it came above graand ageean, an' theer 
 it set on th' maand. 
 
 ' A craad o' fowk waited abaat an' hung on 
 th' graveyart wo' till th' edge o' dark, an' then 
 they piket off whoam, for they begun to think 
 as mebbi it were th' Owd Lad hissel, but a two- 
 three on us stopped till it wer neet afooar \ve 
 went after 'em, th' cock sittin theear just th' 
 same as it hed done i' th' dayleet. 
 
 ' It were usual i' thuse days to watch th' 
 graves for a few neets, for ther wer a deeal o' 
 resurrectionin' gooin on i 'o' directions, th' body- 
 snatchers hevin mooar orders than they could 
 attend to ; but though th' deead chap's feythur 
 offert brass an' plenty o' drink an' meyt to any- 
 body as ud keep a look aat, not one dar do it, 
 an' th' deead mon wer laft to tek care o' hissel, 
 or for th' brid to mind him. 
 
 ' Soon after dayleet th' next mornin I went 
 wi' a twothree moor young chaps to see heaw 
 th' place lukt, an' th' grave hedn't bin brokken 
 into, but th' brid had flown, and fray that day 
 to this I could never find aat ayther wheer it 
 coom fray or went to, but I heeart as th' vicar 
 said it met be th' Owd Lad claimin' his own.'
 
 THE INVISIBLE BURDEN. 
 
 JT the junction of the four cross roads, 
 gleaming white in the hot sunshine 
 and hawthorn-bounded, and marked 
 by the parallel ruts made by the broad wheels 
 of the country carts, the old public house 
 of the Wyresdale Arms was scarcely ever with- 
 out a number of timber wagons or hay carts 
 about its open door, the horses quietly munch- 
 ing from the nose-bags and patiently waiting 
 until their owners or drivers should emerge 
 from the sanded kitchen. 
 
 Nathan Peel's hostelry was the half-way 
 house for all the farmers and cart-drivers in 
 the district, and generally quiet enough at 
 night time, but from its capacious kitchen roars 
 of laughter rang out many a summer after- 
 noon, as the carters and yeomen told their droll 
 tories.
 
 THE INVISIBLE BURDEN. 239 
 
 On one of these occasions, when the sun 
 was blazing outside, and shimmering upon the 
 sands and the distant sea, and through the open 
 window the perfume of the may-blossom stole 
 gently, a quaint looking old fellow, whose face 
 had been bronzed by three-score summers and 
 winters, happened to mention an occurrence 
 as having taken place about the time of 'th' 
 quare weddin',' and a chorus of voices at once 
 called upon him for the story. 
 
 'It's quite forty year sin,' he said thought- 
 fully, 'an' I wir quite a young chap then, an' 
 ready for any marlock. I could dance too 
 wi' hear an' thear one, an' no weddin' wir reet 
 wi'aat axin' me. This one I 'm baan to tell 
 abaat heawivir wir Mester Singleton's owdest 
 son o' th' Dyke Farm, an' as he wir weddin' 
 th' prattiest lass i' o' th' country side, varra 
 nigh everybody wir theear, 'specially as Mester 
 Singleton hed given it aat ther 'd be a welcome 
 for onnybody. A string o' nearly twenty con- 
 veyances, milk carts, an' shandrys, an' gigs, 
 went to th' church wi' fowk o' seein' 'em wed ; 
 but comin' back, young Adam started off wi' 
 his young wife as if he wir mad, an' isted o' 
 gooin' th' owd road across th' Stone Brig, an'
 
 240 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 through th' Holme meadow he pelted off 
 through th' Ingleton Road an' th' Owd Horse 
 Lane. Th' mare seemed to know what th' 
 young chap wir up to, an' to enter into th' spirit 
 o't' thing an' off hoo went like th' woint, th' 
 string o' shandrys an' milk carts an' gigs peltin' 
 on at after abaat a mile behint, an' th' fowk 
 laughin' an' shaatin' at th' fun. Th' gate into 
 th' Owd Horse Lane wir wide open, so th' 
 fowk wir disappointed as expected to gain a 
 minnit or two wi' Adam hevin' to get daan 
 theer to oppen it, an' into th' lane th' mare 
 dashed, an' on hoo went as if th' shandry 
 an' Adam an' his wife wir nowt behint her. 
 Abaat midway i'th' lane heawever th' road 
 dipped a bit, an' th' watter fra a spring i 'th' 
 bank ran o'er it, an' just afoor th' shandry 
 reyched it th 'mare stopped o' of a sudden, 
 an' Adam flew aat o'er th' horse's back an' 
 pitched into th' hedge like leetnin'. Th' wife 
 shaated as if he wir kilt, but he'd no bones 
 brokken, an' when we geet up to him he crept 
 aat o 'th' prickles wi' a shame- faced look as 
 if he'd bin catcht thievin'. Ther wir some 
 rare jokin' as he climbed up to th' side of his 
 wife an' lasht the mare for another start, but
 
 THE INVISIBLE BURDEN. 24! 
 
 it wir no use, th' mare couldn't stir th' convey- 
 ance. Adam lasht away at her, but stir it hoo 
 couldn't, an' at last eight or ten on us set to an' 
 turned th' wheels for twenty or thirty yards an' 
 it wir th' same as if it wir a timber-wagon, it 
 wir that heavy. It wir th' same wi' every one 
 o 'th' conveyances, not one could be got o'er th' 
 watter only wi' eight or ten on us toilin' an' 
 slavin' at th' wheels, no matter heaw th' horse 
 strained an' pulled. Nobody could make aat 
 what it wir, an' th' Vicar came an' look't abaat 
 but could find nowt. He said, heawever, th' 
 Owd Lad had some hand in it, an' he warned 
 th' fowk not to use th' road when they could 
 help it. Many an' many a time heawivir, I 
 see carts stuck theear bi' th' day together, for 
 some chaps wouldn't be persuaded not to go 
 through th' lane, for it wir a short cut, an' other 
 chaps went i' nowt but darin' when they'd hed 
 a sup o' drink. It went on for some years like 
 that, an' fowk came fray far an' near to see it. 
 I'd gettin' wed mysen and hed a farm on the 
 Holme, but I used to go raand to it bi'th' owd 
 road across the Brig, but one day, a breet hot 
 day, I'd mi little lad i 'th cart an' he bothert mi 
 to go through th' lane, he wantit to see th' Owd 
 16
 
 242 GOBLIN TALES OF LANCASHIRE. 
 
 Lad he said, an' as he started o' cryin' abaat it, 
 I went. Well, the cart stuck i 'th' owd place bi 
 th' runnin' watter, an' th' little lad wir delected. 
 I geet daan an' took howd o 'th' wheel, for I 
 knew it wir no use usin' the whip, an' th' horse 
 wir sweatin' as if it wir rare an' 'freetont, when 
 little Will shaated aat o' ov a sudden ' Feythar, 
 I con see him!' 'See what?' I sang aat, an' 
 broad dayleet as it wir, mi knees wir quakin'. 
 'A little chap i'th' cart,' he said, 'a fat little 
 chap wi' a red neet cap on.' ' Wheer is he ?' I 
 shaated, for I couldn't see owt. ' Theer on 
 th' cart tail,' he said, an' then he shaated ' Why, 
 he's gone,' an' no sooner hed he spokken than 
 th' horse started off wi' th' cart as if it hed 
 nowt behint it. 
 
 Thir never wir a cart stuck theer at after 
 that, an' th' Vicar said it wir because little 
 Will hed persayved th' Feeorin, an' as Will hed 
 th' gift o' seein' feeorin an' sich like because he 
 wir born at midneet.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 COMPARATIVE NOTES.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 COMPARATIVE NOTES. 
 
 BELIEF in the appearance of the Skriker, Trash, or Padfoot, 
 as the apparition is named in Lancashire, or Padfooit, as it is 
 designated in Yorkshire, is still very prevalent in certain parts 
 of the two counties. This boggart is invariably looked upon 
 as the forerunner of death, and it is supposed that only the 
 relatives of persons about to die, or the unfortunate doomed 
 persons themselves, ever see the apparition. 
 
 Of quite a distinct class to that of the ' Skrikin' Woman,' an 
 appearance which, at a but recent period, obtained for a lane 
 at Warrington the reputation of being haunted, the Padfoot 
 seems to be peculiar to Lancashire and Yorkshire, unless, 
 indeed, the Welsh Gwyllgi or Dog of Darkness, and the Shock 
 of the Norfolk seaboard, are of the same family. In Norfolk, 
 the spectre, as it does in Lancashire, portends death, but I have 
 been unable to find any Welsh story of the apparition with a 
 more tragic ending than fright and illness. 
 
 As the Trash generally takes the form of a large shaggy dog 
 or small bear, can the superstition be an offshoot from that old 
 Aryan belief which gave so important an office to the dog as a 
 messenger from the world of the dead, and an attendant upon 
 the dying, or has the grim idea come down to us from the 
 ancient times, when, as the Rev. S. Baring Gould says, ' It was 
 the custom to bury a dog or a boar alive under the corner-stone 
 of a church, that its ghost might haunt the neighbourhood, and 
 drive off any who would profane it i.e. witches or warlocks'? 
 
 In most of these stories of compacts with the Evil One it is 
 singular how little is received in exchange for the soul. In a 
 few instances poverty bargains for untold wealth, or ugliness 
 and age for youth and loveliness, but generally it is for the bare
 
 246 APPENDIX. 
 
 means of prolonging or supporting life that the daring and 
 despairing one enters into the everlasting agreement. In fact, 
 as a French authoress has said, it is ' for a mouthful of bread 
 to nourish their debilitated stomachs, and the bundle of sticks 
 which warms again their benumbed limbs.' In Sussex it would 
 appear, from what a country-lad told the Rev. S. Baring Gould, 
 that half-a-crown is the price Satan pays for a soul, a letter 
 addressed to the Evil One, and containing an offer of the soul, 
 bringing a response in that practical form, if placed under the 
 pillow at night. 
 
 In Normandy it is considered sufficient to make the compact 
 binding for the acceptance to be simply a verbal one ; but in 
 Lancashire the formal parchment deed, with its signatures in 
 blood, is indispensable. 
 
 Old Isaac, it would seem, was not disappointed when he 
 came to make use of his handful of money, and probably, there- 
 fore, he had spent it before he told the story, for in all instances 
 where the fairies are recorded as rewarding mortals with money, 
 any revelation as to its source is invariably followed by the gift 
 being turned to bits of paper or leaves. 
 
 Although there appears to have been some little confusion 
 in the mind of the old farmer as to the rank in the world of 
 faerie held by his little benefactor, he seems to have desig- 
 nated him correctly, for although the general idea of Puck is 
 that of a .mere mischief-loving and mischief-working sprite, 
 such as is painted by Drayton, Shakspere credits Puck not 
 only with wanton playfulness, but also with industry, for in the 
 second act of the 'Midsummer Night's Dream/ the fairy, 
 addressing the sprite, says : 
 
 Those that hobgoblin call you, and sweet Pu< k, 
 YOU do their work. ' 
 
 Shakspere and Ben Jonson, however, agree in making 
 Oberon King of the Fairies a king, too, with a stately pre- 
 sence, and far above showing an interest in a farmer's fields. 
 Under any circumstances one is not prepared to find Puck of 
 royal estate, and doubtless the labouring spirit of our story was 
 simply one of those goblins who, according to the author of the 
 Anatomy of Melancholy, would ' grind corn for a mess of 
 milk, cut wood, or do any manner of nursery work' a Robin 
 Goodfellow merely, the ' lubber fiend ' of Milton, the Bwbach
 
 A1TENDIX. 247 
 
 or household fairy of Wales. Lancashire had many such. 
 Stories of beings rejoicing in the name of Hobthrust or Throb- 
 thrush, but in all other respects closely resembling the fairy 
 king of the foregoing tradition, still are told by the farm-house 
 fires in Furness, in South-East Lancashire, and in the Fylde 
 country. Rewarded night after night with a supply of oatmeal 
 porridge strange relic, probably, of the old libations to the 
 gods they toiled at the churn till daybreak. A Furness 
 legend chronicles how a farmer, whose house was the favourite 
 resting-place of one of these visitors, one evening, when threat- 
 ening clouds were gathering, wished that he had the harvest 
 carted. Next morning the work was found done, but a horse 
 was found dead in the stable, Hob having been unsparing. As 
 the day was a beautiful one, the farmer did not appreciate the 
 housing as he ought to have done, and testily wished that Hob 
 was in the mill-dam. A few hours afterwards, not Hob, but 
 the grain was found there. 
 
 ' Crawshaws in Berwickshire,' says the author of the Popular 
 Rhymes of Berwickshire, ' was once the abode of an indus- 
 trious Brownie, who both saved the corn and thrashed it for 
 several seasons. At length, after one harvest, some person 
 thoughtlessly remarked that the corn was not well mowed or 
 piled up in the barn. The sprite took offence at this, and the 
 next night threw the whole of the corn over the Raven Crag, a 
 precipice about two miles off, muttering 
 
 " It 's no weel mowed ! It's no weel mowed 1 
 Then it 's ne'er be mowed by me again. 
 I '11 scatter it o'er the Raven stone, 
 And they '11 hae some wark ere it's mowed again." ' 
 
 The North Lancashire Hobthrusts, however, do not seem to 
 have been made to disappear by man's ingratitude, but, like the 
 Irish Cluricaun and the Scotch Brownie, were to be driven 
 away by kindness. In one instance, a tailor, for whom a Hob- 
 thrust had done some work, gratefully made him a coat and 
 hood for winter wear, and in the night the workman was heard 
 bidding farewell to his old quarters 
 
 Throb-thrush has got a new coat and new hood, 
 And he '11 never do no more good.' 
 
 Readers of the Brothers Grimm and lovers of George Cruik- 
 shank will not need to be reminded how the grateful shoemaker 
 deprived himself of the assistance of the elves. In the German 
 story, however, as in Breton ones, although the elves depart, 
 prosperity continues to bless the labours of the people whose 
 practical gratitude has driven the little beings away.
 
 248 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Hob which, according to Harrison Ainsworth, haunted 
 the Gorge of Cliviger, does not appear to have been at all 
 domesticated, the novelist, in the only allusion he makes to it, 
 characterising it as ' a frightful hirsute demon, yclept Hob- 
 thrust.' In the Fylde country, however, the lubber fiends seem 
 to have been as industrious as was that of our legend. Tradi- 
 tion tells of one at Rayscar which not only housed the grain 
 but also got the horses ready for the journey to the distant 
 market. At Hackensall Hall one took the Celtic form of a 
 great horse, and required only a pie in reward for its toil. 
 
 The Hobs of the neighbouring county of Yorkshire are 
 credited with greater powers than those required for the rapid 
 performance of household duties. One of these beings is still 
 said to haunt a cave in the vicinity of the old-world hamlet of 
 Runswick. To this place anxious and superstitious mothers 
 brought their ailing little ones, and as they stood at the mouth 
 of the cavity, cried, ' Hob, my bairn's gettent kinkcough (whoop- 
 ing-cough ?), takkt off, takkt off ! ' In the same district there 
 is a haunted tumulus called ' Obtrash Roque,' rendered by 
 Walcott ' the Heap of Hob-o'-the- Hurst.' Of the bogle denizen 
 of this mound a story similar to that told by Mr. Crofton Croker, 
 in Roby's Traditions (Clegg Hall Boggarf), is current in the 
 district. A farmer who was bothered by the spirit, deter- 
 mined to remove to a quieter locality, and as the carts were 
 leaving with the goods and implements a neighbour cried out, 
 ' It's flittin yo' are,' when the Hob at once replied, from a 
 churn, ' Ay, we 're flitting ;' upon which the farmer thought he 
 might as well remain where he was. Similar flitting stories, 
 however, are told of the Scandinavian Nis, the Irish Cluricaun, 
 the Welsh Bwbach, and the Polish Ickrzycki. 
 
 Why the expression of a wish like this should have offended 
 Puck is not very evident. There is in Sweden a lubber fiend 
 named the Tomte, and of this being the peasantry believe that 
 only by unrewarded toil can it work out its salvation. Can the 
 Lancashire King of the Fairies have been one of the same order, 
 and have considered the utterance of a good wish as a reward, 
 or even as a sarcastic allusion to his 'lost condition'? 
 
 The belief is by no means uncommon that the fairies are 
 the angels who were neutral during the Satanic rebellion. In 
 Brittany, however (Chants Populaires de la Bretagne, par Th. 
 Hersart de la Villemarque'), they are the Princesses who, in the 
 days of the Apostles, would not embrace Christianity. 
 
 The traditions of most countries agree, however, in attributing
 
 APPENDIX. 249 
 
 to the fairies extreme sensitiveness on the subject of their con- 
 dition. Mr. Campbell has recorded that when the elves, who 
 had grown weary of crossing the Dornoch Frith in cockle-shells, 
 were engaged in building a bridge of gold across its mouth, a 
 passer-by lifted his hands and blessed the tiny workmen, who 
 immediately vanished, the bridge sinking with them beneath 
 the waves, and its place being at once taken by quicksands. 
 Almost every district haunted by ' greenies ' or ' hill folk ' has 
 its story of a piteous appeal on the subject of their future state 
 made by visible or invisible fairies. In a Highland story it is 
 an old man reading the Bible who is accosted, the inquirer 
 screaming and plunging into the sea upon being answered that 
 the sacred pages did not contain any allusion to the salvation 
 of any but the sons of Adam. My friend, Mr. Kennedy, in his 
 valuable Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts, gives a charming 
 traditionary story of a priest who was benighted and lost upon 
 a moor, and who was similarly accosted, and implored to 
 declare that at the last day the lot of the fairies would not be 
 with Satan. After the appeal had been somewhat ambiguously 
 answered, ' a weak light was shed around where he stood, and 
 he distinguished the path and an opening in the fence.' 
 
 In Cornwall they are supposed to be the spirits of the people 
 who inhabited the country long before the birth of Christ, and 
 who, although not good enough to partake of the joys of 
 Heaven, yet are too good for Hell. In Wales there is a some- 
 what similar belief, but it is said that their probation will end 
 at the day of judgment, when they will be admitted to Paradise. 
 It is commonly believed by the Cornish peasants that they are 
 gradually growing smaller, and that at length they will change 
 into ants. Few people in Cornwall, therefore, are sufficiently 
 venturesome to destroy a colony of those insects. 
 
 Many are the old sacred piles in Lancashire with the build- 
 ing of which it is believed that goblins had something to do. 
 The parish church of Rochdale, the old church of Samlesbury, 
 that of St. Oswald's at Winwick, near Warrington, and the 
 parish church of Burnley, may be instanced as a few of those 
 which are popularly supposed to have been interfered with by 
 superhuman labourers. At Rochdale the unexpected work- 
 people took the form of ' strange-looking men ;' in other cases, 
 as in those of Winwick and Burnley, pigs removed the materials, 
 it being traditional that their cry of ' we-week ' gave its name 
 to the former place j while at Newchurch, in Rossendale,
 
 250 APPENDIX. 
 
 although the interloping builders were invisible, a little old 
 woman with a bottle was not only seen, but was fraternised with 
 by the thirsty watchers who had been appointed to guard 
 the foundations. Similar stories of changed site are told of 
 numerous churches throughout Britain. The legend of Gadshill 
 church, near Ventnor, like that of Hinderwell, Yorkshire, 
 attributes the removal of the foundations to supernatural means, 
 the stones having hopped after each other from their original 
 place at the foot of the hill to that in which they were after- 
 wards found, the shins of the watchers having been ' barked ' 
 in the most unceremonious manner by certain little blocks of 
 somewhat erratic tendencies. It is, however, by no means 
 improbable that at Gadshill, as at Rochdale, the fact of the 
 building having been erected in a position so difficult of access, 
 and so trying to aged and infirm parishioners, may have caused 
 a testy and irreverent, and perhaps asthmatic, worshipper to 
 invent the Satanic theory. In one case, that of Bredon, in 
 Leicestershire, the objectors appear to have taken the form of 
 doves. Loth as one may be to think harm of such sweet 
 messengers, Mr. Kennedy, after telling the story of the building 
 of the cathedral of Ardfert, in Kerry, by St. Brendain, and the 
 trouble caused by a large crow, which took the measuring line 
 in its bill and flew across the valley with it, adds, ' The bird 
 was a fairy in disguise. If the messenger had been from 
 another quarter, he would have made his appearance under 
 snowy plumes.' l 
 
 This work of art was one of the gargoyles of the old building, 
 and was purchased by Mr. Ffarington, the father of the present 
 lady of the manor, when the church was rebuilt. It bore the 
 name of ' the Cat Stone.' 
 
 Another version of this tradition, of but limited circulation, 
 and little known even in the immediate locality, credits an 
 angel with the removal of the foundations and with the utter- 
 ance of the following anything but angelic strain : 
 
 Here I have placed thee, 
 
 And here shall thou stand ; 
 And thou shall be called 
 
 The church of Leyland ! 
 
 1 The foundations of the priory church of Christchurch, Hampshire, were, tradi- 
 tion says, removed by unseen hands, down from the lonely St. Catherine's Hill to the 
 present site in the valley. The beams and rafters, too short on the hill, were too 
 long in the vale. In the valley, too, an extra workman, Christ, always came on the 
 pay-night.
 
 APPENDIX. 25 I 
 
 This legend appears to have had a Teutonic origin. Mr. 
 Kelly, in his chapter on the ' Wild Hunt,' quotes a somewhat 
 similar story from a German source : ' The wild huntsman's 
 hounds can talk like men. A peasant caught one of them, a 
 little one, and hid it in his pack. Up came the wild huntsman 
 and missed it. " Where are you, Waldmann ?" he cried. "In 
 Heineguggeli's sack," was the answer.' 
 
 'The passing bell,' says Harland, 'according to Grose, was 
 anciently rung for two purposes, one to bespeak the prayers of 
 all good Christians for a soul just departing, the other to drive 
 away the evil spirits who stood at the bed's foot ready to seize 
 their prey, or at least to molest and terrify the soul on its 
 passage.' 
 
 Mr. Sikes says that in Wales, before the Reformation, ' there 
 was kept in all Welsh churches, a handbell which was taken by 
 the Sexton to the house where a funeral was to be held, and 
 rung at the head of the procession,' and that 'the custom 
 survived long after the Reformation in many places, as at 
 Caerleon, the little Monmouthshire village, which was a bustling 
 Roman city when London was a hamlet. The bell, called the 
 bangu, was still preserved in the parish of Llanfair Duffryn 
 Clwyd half a dozen years ago.' 
 
 The bell might now with greater propriety be called the 
 passed bell, as it is tolled only after a death, the ringing con- 
 cluding with a number of distinct knells to announce the years 
 and sex of the deceased, which the authority alluded to above 
 considers ' a vestige of an ancient Roman Catholic injunction.' 
 Until a comparatively recent period it was customary at Walton- 
 le-Dale, Lancashire, to inter Protestants in the afternoon, a bell 
 being tolled at intervals prior to the funeral ; Catholics, however, 
 were buried in the evening, a full peal being rung upon the bells 
 immediately before the procession started. 
 
 Mr. Thornber, writing in 1844, says that at the beginning of 
 this century, at Poulton, the more respectable portion of the 
 inhabitants were buried by candle-light, and that it was con- 
 sidered a sacred duty to expose a lighted candle in the windows 
 of every house as the corpse was carried through the streets. 
 He speaks of the custom as a mark of respect to the dead, but 
 possibly there was something more than this in it. In Ireland
 
 252 APPENDIX. 
 
 even to-day it is usual to leave lighted candles in the room 
 where a corpse is laid out. 
 
 This belief in the power of bells over not only demons and 
 evil spirits of every kind, but also over the elves and 'good 
 people,' appears to have been held in all countries ever inhabited 
 by fairies and hill folk. The Danish trolls are said to have 
 been driven out of the country by the hanging of bells in the 
 churches, the noise reminding them forcibly of the time when 
 Thor used to fling his hammer after them. It is recorded in a 
 bit of local doggrel from the pen of a dead and forgotten 
 rhymester, that the fairies remained at Saddleworth, on the 
 confines of Lancashire and Yorkshire, until 
 
 ' The steeple rose, 
 And bells began to play ;' 
 
 when the Queen wandered away to the wild district 
 Where Todmore's kingdom lay ;' 
 
 and the less important plebeians of fairy land ' dispersed, went.' 
 Mr. Henderson says that 'at Horbury, near Wakefield, and at 
 Dewsbury, on Christmas Eve, is rung the "devil's knell," a 
 hundred strokes, then a pause, then three strokes, three strokes, 
 and three strokes again.' 
 
 In Iceland it is believed that at daybreak or upon the ringing 
 of a bell the trolls flee. 
 
 Fairy funerals, according to tradition, have been seen in other 
 counties beside Lancashire, for an old Welsh writer alludes to 
 such sights as having been witnessed in his day. Mr. Wirt 
 Sikes, in his British Goblins, a recent and most valuable con- 
 tribution to the folk lore and mythology of South Wales, says 
 that the bell of Blaenporth, Cardiganshire, was noted for tolling 
 thrice at midnight, unrung by human hands, to foretell death, , 
 and that when the ' Tolaeth before the burying,' the sound of 
 an unseen funeral-procession passing by, is heard, the vokres 
 sing the ' Old Hundredth,' and the tramping of feet and the 
 sobbing and groaning of mourners can be heard. In Nor- 
 mandy, says P. Le Fillastre, Annuaire de la Manche, 1832, the 
 large white coffins, les bieres, which the belated voyager sees 
 along the roads, or placed on the churchyard fences, are unac- 
 companied by either bearers or mourners, and the cemetery bell 
 is silent. 
 
 Readers of Professor Hunt's volumes of Cornish Drolls and
 
 APPENDIX. 353 
 
 Romances will remember the beautiful legend of the fisherman 
 who, gazing by night through the window of a lonely church, 
 saw a procession passing along the aisle, and witnessed the 
 interment, near the sacramental table, of the fairy queen. The 
 only point of resemblance, however, between the Southern and 
 Northern traditions is to be found in the solemn tolling of the 
 church-bell. The Cornish story is unique in one respect, inas- 
 much as, although we have plenty of legends in which the fairies 
 evince a desire to peer into their future state, and even some in 
 which their deaths are alluded to, it is extremely rare to find 
 one in which the burial of a fairy is narrated ; and this fact 
 would seem to point to a defect in the ' Finn theory,' so plausibly 
 advocated by Mr. Campbell ; for, surely, if once upon a time 
 ' the fairies were a real people, like the Lapps,' tradition would 
 not be so silent, as it almost universally is, with reference to the 
 outward and visible signs of their mortality. 1 
 
 II. 
 
 My friend, Mr. W. E. A. Axon, in his interesting Black Knight 
 of Ashton, tells a story of a ' Race with the Devil,' the hero of 
 which was one of a party of pace-eggers, who, waking up after a 
 doze by a farm-house fire, beside which the party had been per- 
 mitted to sleep on a wild night, and, feeling cold, had put on 
 his Beelzebub dress, to the terror of another member of the 
 company, who awoke afterwards, and seeing, as he supposed, 
 the Devil seated airing himself by the fire, fled into the darkness 
 and the storm, his equally terrified companions following him, 
 and the no-less-frightened Beelzebub bringing up the rear. 
 
 The Mid and South Lancashire stories, as will at once be 
 seen, do not resemble each other in any way, however ; and I 
 refer to Mr. Axon's legend for the sake of directing my readers' 
 attention to a valuable note appended to it, in which Mr. Axon 
 points out that there is a similar old Hindoo story of such a. 
 chase, which was translated from the Sanscrit into Chinese not 
 later than the year 800. 
 
 It seems hardly probable that the Lancashire pace-egging 
 story, so exquisitely narrated by my friend, could have had an 
 Aryan origin, yet the resemblance is a striking and remarkable 
 one. 
 
 1 Only since these notes were in type have I seen the excellent paper from the pen 
 of Mr. Grant Allen (C or nhill Magazine, March 1881), on the Genesis of the Myth of 
 the Fairies. See also the same charming writer's Vignettes from Nature, p. 206, 
 and papers by B. Melle and F. A. Allen, in Science Gossip for 1866, ' The Track of 
 the Pigmies.'
 
 254 APPENDIX. 
 
 Many are the traditions of submerged bells told along the 
 Lancashire coast. ' Here,' says the Rev. W. Thornber in the 
 scarce History of Blackpool (1844), ' or out at sea opposite this 
 spot, once stood the cemetery of Kilgrimol, mentioned in the 
 above-quoted chapter of the Priory of Lytham. Of this fact, 
 tradition is not silent, and the rustic who dwells in the neigh- 
 bourhood relates tales of fearful sights, and how many a be- 
 nighted wanderer has been terrified with the sounds of bells 
 pealing dismal chimes.' In Wales, too, the superstition is a 
 common one. It is by no means improbable that there may be 
 more in these faint whispers than would at first appear, and 
 that underneath these dim traditions of churches swallowed by 
 the sea there may rest a faint stratum of the old Scandinavian 
 superstition that sweet singing and beautiful music could be 
 heard by any who stood to listen on an Elf hill ; for, although 
 the idea of submerged cities may be found floating in the lore 
 of all Celtic peoples, and in some places the submersion is a 
 matter even of history, 1 in others, as at Kilgrimol, it is doubtful 
 whether the sounds come from the sea or the earth. It is, 
 therefore, more than likely that the traditions of submersion 
 have received the addition of pealing bells from natural causes. 
 There is an Indian superstition which in another way illustrates 
 this theory. Manitobah Lake, in the Red River region, derives 
 its name from a small island, upon which is heard, whenever the 
 gales blow from the north, a sound resembling the pealing of 
 distant church-bells, and which is caused by the waves beating 
 on the shore at the foot of the cliffs and the rubbing of the 
 fallen fragments against each other. This island the Ojibeways 
 suppose to be the home of Manitobah, ' the speaking god,' and 
 upon it they dare not land. 
 
 There is in Normandy a singular tradition of a submerged 
 bell, dating back to the time of the English occupation, along 
 with others of buried and hidden treasure. It is said that, as 
 the English soldiers were abandoning the country, they de- 
 stroyed the abbey of Corneville, and were taking away with 
 them the principal bell, when the barge capsized. As they were 
 trying to recover the prize, the French came upon them, and 
 they were obliged to hurry away, leaving the bell behind. Since 
 that time, whenever the bells of the churches in the district 
 ring out their joyous peals upon solemn festival days, the sub- 
 merged bell also can be heard joining in the carillon. (Essai 
 sur r arrondissement de Pont-Audemer.) 
 
 1 Vide Lyell's Principles of Geology, Chapter on Encroachments of the Sea, for 
 many instances of submerged villages and churches along the English coast
 
 APPENDIX. 255 
 
 A story somewhat similar to this is told of a bell from St. 
 David's, Pembrokeshire, carried off by Cromwellian troops 
 whose vessel afterwards was wrecked in Ramsay Sound, from 
 the moving waters of which the pealing can be heard when a 
 storm is rising. 
 
 13- 
 
 For the sake of those who are not ' native and to the manner 
 born,' Roger's story is not given in his vernacular, a mixture of 
 the Mid-Lancashire and the Furness dialects, trying even to 
 those who are acquainted with the expressive Doric of other 
 parts of the County Palatine. 
 
 14. 
 
 Mr. Henderson, in his Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern 
 Counties of England and the Borders, states that Mr. Wilkie 
 maintains that the Digitalis purpurea was in high favour with 
 the witches, who used to decorate their fingers with its largest 
 bells ; hence called Witches' Thimbles. Mr. Hartley Coleridge 
 has more pleasing associations with this gay wild-flower. He 
 writes of ' the fays 
 
 That sweetly nestle in the foxglove bells ; ' 
 
 and adds in a note, ' popular fancy has generally conceived a 
 connection between the foxglove and the good people.' In Ire- 
 land, where it is called lusmore, or the great herb, and also 
 Fairy Cup, the bending of its stalks is believed to denote the 
 unseen presence of supernatural beings. The Shefro, or gre- 
 garious fairy, is represented as wearing the corona of the fox- 
 glove on his head, and no unbecoming head-dress either. In 
 Wales, that the elves wear gloves of the bells of Digitalis is a 
 common fancy. 
 
 This conventional circle seems to be universally common to 
 such stories of summoning the Evil One. Even in China, as 
 Mr. Dennys has stated, the ring is drawn round the summoner, 
 and the incantation uttered, as in our own stories. 
 
 1 6. 
 
 In Lancashire, Old Nick (afterwards St. Nicholas, the patron 
 saint of sailors) is considered the patron saint of the wind, just
 
 256 APPENDIX. 
 
 as in the Scandinavian mythology it is Odin, also termed Nick 
 and Hold Neckar, who raises storms. 
 
 In Normandy, near Aigle, there is a superstition respecting a 
 Mother A'igue, doubtless, says Vaugeois, of Scandinavian origin. 
 
 17- 
 
 Instances of generous treatment of opponents on the part of 
 the Evil One are by no means rare. Readers of Mr. Roby will 
 remember that Satan gave a loophole of escape to Michael 
 Waddington, the hero of 'Th' Dule upo' Dun' legend, by 
 granting him an extra wish, although the poor wretch's time 
 was up. 
 
 1 8. 
 
 The Cockerham schoolmaster appears to have lacked origi- 
 nality, for in the Scottish legend of ' Michael Scott ' it is 
 recorded that when the fairies crowded round his dwelling 
 crying for work, he bade them twine ropes of sand to reach 
 the moon, and tradition has it that traces of their unsuccessful 
 attempts may yet be found. A more recent instance is told in 
 a sketch of Dr. Linkbarrow, a Westmoreland wizard, who lived 
 about a hundred years ago, quoted from the Kendal Mercury 
 by Mr. Sullivan, in his Cumberland and Westmoreland, Ancient 
 and Modern. The Doctor, who was disturbed at church by a 
 terrible storm, hurried home, and on the way met the devil, 
 who asked for work. He immediately set him to make ' thumb 
 symes' of river sand. Imitating the Israelites, perhaps not 
 unconsciously for Satan's knowledge of Scripture is proverbial 
 the Evil One asked for straw, which was refused him. On 
 his arrival at home, the Doctor found his servant prying into his 
 black-letter book, which imprudence had caused the storm and 
 Satan's pilgrimage. 
 
 Several similar stories, illustrating the danger of tampering 
 with books of magic, are told in Normandy. In one of them 
 it is recorded that the servant of a village cure, moved by curi- 
 osity, read a page or two of one of his masters volumes, when 
 suddenly Satan appeared. The domestic fled, but the Evil One 
 captured him, and was making away with him when the cure 
 arrived and simply read a few other words from the book, upon 
 which Satan dropped his prey. In another one Satan keeps his 
 victim three years, but at length is obliged to let him go. 
 
 In the last story of this kind, however, which has come under 
 my notice a French one by the way the incautious student
 
 APPENDIX. 257 
 
 has scarcely read a line of the open book when Satan appears 
 and strangles him. The sorcerer, quietly returning home, sees 
 devils perched on the house, and, surprised, beckons them to 
 approach. One does so, and tells him the story, and he there- 
 upon rushes to his study and finds the student stretched dead 
 upon the floor. Afraid of being accused of murder, he orders 
 the devil who had assassinated the scholar to pass into the body 
 of his victim. The demon obeys, and goes to promenade in 
 the street at the point most frequented by the students, but sud- 
 denly, upon another order, he quits the body, and the corpse 
 falls in the midst of the terrified promenaders. 
 
 In Cornwall, instead of the devil, it is the ghost of Tregeagle, 
 the wizard, that is doomed to make trusses of sand in Genvor 
 Cove, and to bear them to the top of Escol's Cliff. Having 
 once succeeded in carrying a truss, after having first brought 
 water from a neighbouring stream and frozen the sand, he is 
 now condemned to make the trusses without water. 
 
 19. 
 
 Another version of this story, which is still told in the lonely 
 farm-houses of the district, gives the scholars the credit of having 
 raised the devil during the absence of their master. Similar 
 tasks were given to the infernal visitor by a sharp-witted lad, 
 who feared lest his should be the soul the Evil One threatened 
 to take back with him ; and not many years ago a flag, said to 
 have been broken by the outwitted Satan in his passage across 
 the floor, used to be triumphantly exhibited to any daring and 
 irreverent sceptic who expressed doubts as to the truthfulness 
 of the narrative. 
 
 At Burnley Grammar School a black mark on a stone was at 
 one time exhibited in proof of a state visit of the same kind, and 
 a similar ignominious flight. 
 
 The Grammar School of Middleton, near Manchester, also 
 can boast of the patronage of the Evil One ; and Samuel Bam- 
 ford has recorded that in his youth a hole in the school flags 
 was shown as an impression of the Satanic hoof. The Middleton 
 legend credits the lads with the unenviable honour of having 
 called up the fiend and afterwards innocently wishing him to 
 withdraw, which he sternly declined to do without having 
 received his usual fee of a soul. As at Cockerham, he was re- 
 quested to make a rope of sand ; and he was rapidly complet- 
 ing the task, when, to the joy of the urchins, the schoolmaster 
 came upon the scene, and quickly exorcised the visitor, who, in 
 his disgusted and disordered flight, broke down nearly half of 
 the building. 
 
 17
 
 258 APPENDIX. 
 
 Stories of headless beings may be found in the lore of most 
 countries of Europe, and are of the same class as those of the 
 men, women and horses ' beawt yeds,' common to the hilly dis- 
 tricts of both North and South Lancashire. As a general rule, 
 in South Lancashire, the head is not seen at all, whereas in the 
 northern part of the county the spectre almost invariably carries 
 it under the left arm, as is done by the wandering beings in 
 similar Danish stories. A Scotch legend, alluded to by Sir 
 Walter Scott, credits the ghost of a Duchess of Queensberry 
 with an innovation, as the spectre is said to wheel its head in a 
 barrow through the galleries of Drumlanrick Castle. In Glamor- 
 ganshire there is a tradition of a headless woman, who appears 
 every sixty years, and many are the terrible stories told of her 
 dreadful visitations. 
 
 Although tales of headless horses are not rare in Lancashire, 
 there does not appear to be any tradition of hearses, or other 
 conveyances drawn by them, similar to the Northumberland 
 legend of the midnight cavalcade along the subterraneous pass- 
 age between Tarset and Dalby Castles, or to the stories told 
 by the Irish peasants. 
 
 It is more than probable that many of the legends and stories 
 of headless beings of both sexes had their origin in the old 
 Saxon belief that if a person who was guilty of a crime for 
 which he deserved to lose his head, died without having paid 
 the penalty, he was condemned after death to travel over the 
 earth with his head under his arm. 
 
 Not very long ago it was commonly believed at Warrington, on 
 the authority of many persons who declared they had seen the 
 apparition, that a spectral white rabbit haunted Bank Quay, its 
 appearance invariably foretelling the early death of a relative 
 of the person whose misfortune it was to behold the animal. 
 
 'In Cornwall,' says Mr. Hunt, ' it is a very popular fancy 
 that when a maiden who has loved not wisely but too well, dies 
 forsaken and broken-hearted, she comes back in the shape 
 of a white hare to haunt her deceiver. The phantom follows 
 the false one everywhere, mostly invisible to all else. It some- 
 times saves him from danger, but invariably the white hare 
 causes the death of the betrayer in the end.' 
 
 Can this tradition be an offshoot of the legend of Ahasuerus, 
 the Wandering Jew, the man who, standing at his door, refused
 
 APPENDIX. 259 
 
 the cup of water for which the Saviour, bowed down beneath 
 the burden of the cross, begged, but who bade the Lord walk 
 quicker, and was answered, ' I go, but thou shalt thirst and 
 tarry till I come'? In one shape or another most European 
 countries have the weird myth of this restless being. In none 
 of the stories, however, have I found any reference to an animal 
 accompanying the wanderer. 
 
 23- 
 
 The belief in the efficacy of fairy ointment appears to have 
 been somewhat generally held in England. A Northumberland 
 tradition tells of a midwife who was fetched to attend a lady, 
 and who received a box of ointment with which to anoint the 
 infant. By accident the woman touched one of her eyes with 
 the mixture, and at once saw that she was in a fairy palace. 
 She had the good sense, however, to conceal her astonishment, 
 and reached her home in safety. Some time afterwards she saw 
 the lady stealing bits of butter in the market-place, and thought- 
 lessly accosted her, when, after an inquiry similar to that of 
 the Lancashire legend, the fairy breathed upon the offending 
 eye and destroyed the sight. Other versions still current in 
 Northumberland make the thief a fairy stealing corn. Similar 
 stories are told in Devonshire and in both the Lowlands and 
 Highlands of Scotland. In Scotland, however, the fairy spits 
 into the woman's eye. The Irish fairy (Co. Wexford), a vindic- 
 tive being, uses a switch. 
 
 In Cornwall a fairy bantling has to be put out to nurse, and 
 has to be washed regularly in water and carried to its room by 
 its invisible relatives. The nurse receives the marvellous sight 
 after some of the liquid has splashed upon her eyes, and the 
 usual result follows. She sees a thief in the market-place 
 that of St. Ives ; and after he has muttered 
 
 ' Water for elf, not water for self ! 
 You Ve lost your eye, your child, and yourself ! ' 
 
 she becomes blind. In another Cornish legend a green oint- 
 ment, made with four-leaved clover, gathered at a certain time 
 of the moon, confers the wondrous gift. In Lancashire the 
 four-leaved clover does not require any preparation ; the mere 
 possession of it being supposed to render fairies visible. 
 
 The Scandinavian belief appears to have been that, although 
 the hill folk could bestow the gift of this sight upon whom they 
 chose, all children born on Sunday possessed the faculty. This 
 superstition seems to survive in a slightly altered from in the 
 Lancashire one that children born during twilight can see
 
 260 APPENDIX. 
 
 spirits and foretell deaths, the latter faculty, probably, having 
 been substituted for the prophetic power of the chosen of the 
 elves in the Northern mythology. 
 
 It is more than probable that these ointment stories came 
 from the East. Who does not remember the charming history 
 of the blind man, Baba Abdalla, whose sight was destroyed 
 by a little miraculous ointment, and afterwards as wonderfully 
 restored by a box on the ear ? 
 
 24. 
 
 An old farm-labourer pointed out to me a place where the 
 Evil One used to meet the witches, and gambol with them until 
 cock-crow. It was at the junction of four cross-roads, between 
 Stonyhurst and Ribchester ; and as I stood there at ' th' edge 
 o' dark,' when the wind was whispering through the fir woods 
 on either hand, with that mysterious sound so like the gentle 
 wash of waves upon a sandy shore, the spot seemed indeed a 
 suitable one for such gatherings. 
 
 My infonnant, however, although very circumstantial in his 
 account of what had transpired at the nocturnal assemblies, 
 scouted the idea of anything of the sort taking place in these 
 times, and remarked drily : ' Ther 's too mich leet neaw-a-days, 
 Mesthur, fur eawt o' that mak'. Wi' should hev' th' caanty 
 police after um afooar they'd time to torn raand ! ' 
 
 25. 
 
 Until recently, there was an ancient British tumulus by the 
 side of the highway from Darwen to Bolton, where the road 
 passes through the domains of White Hall and Low Hill. 
 This spot, long before the urns of bones were disinterred, was 
 looked upon by the country people as being haunted by various 
 boggarts, and Mr. Charles Hardwick says that children were 
 in the habit of taking off their clogs and shoes, and walking 
 past the heap barefooted when compelled to traverse the road 
 after nightfall. 1 
 
 26. 
 
 Mag did not wander far, for her grave is shown in the church- 
 yard at Woodplumpton, in which village her memory still is 
 green. But few people venture to rest themselves upon the 
 huge stone which marks the spot where her spirit was laid. 
 
 1 Vide foot-note, p. 253.
 
 APPENDIX. 26l 
 
 A strangely jumbled tradition tells how a priest managed to 
 ' catch ' her and ' lay her spirit.' In Cornwall and other coun- 
 ties a clergyman of the Establishment was considered qualified 
 to ' lay' a ghost ; but in Lancashire it was believed that only a 
 Roman Catholic priest had the wondrous power. In Wales 
 the magical number three is brought in, for three clergymen 
 are necessary to exorcise a spirit. In Normandy, as a matter 
 of course, only the priests have the power. 
 
 27. 
 
 Witchen or quicken, old English names of the rowan or 
 mountain ash. Mr. Kelly (Indo-European Tradition and 
 Folklore) accounts for the reputation of the ' wiggin ' by con- 
 necting it with the Indian Palasa, the tree that, according to the 
 Vedas, sprang from the feather which, together with a claw, fell 
 from the falcon bringing the heavenly soma to earth. The same 
 writer also compares it with the Mimosa, and quotes a singular 
 passage from Bishop Heber, to the effect that the natives of 
 Upper India are in the habit of wearing sprigs of it in their 
 turbans, and of suspending pieces of it over their beds, as 
 security against wizards, spells, the Evil Eye, etc. Naturally 
 enough the Bishop expresses his surprise at finding the super- 
 stitions, which in England and Scotland attach to the rowan, 
 applied in India to a tree of similar form, and he asks, 'From 
 what common centre are these common notions derived ?' The 
 Mimosa is popularly supposed to have sprung from the claw 
 alluded to above. 
 
 On account of its reputed power against the ' feorin,' a rowan 
 tree was almost invariably planted near the moorland or 
 mountain side farm-house. 
 
 Rowan, ash, and red thread 
 Keep the devils from their speed,' 
 
 says the old distich. 
 
 In some parts of Scotland ash sap still is given to infants as 
 a preservative against fairies. 
 
 28. 
 
 It was firmly believed in Lancashire, says Mr. Harland, that 
 a great gathering of witches assembled on this night at their 
 general rendezvous in the Forest of Pendle a ruined and 
 desolate farm-house called the Malkin Tower (Malkin being 
 the name of a familiar demon in Middleton's old play of The 
 Witch, derived from maca, an equal, a companion). This 
 
 17 a
 
 262 APPENDIX. 
 
 superstition led to another, that of lighting, letting, or leeting 
 the witches (from leoht, A.-S., light). It was believed that if a 
 lighted candle were carried about the fells or hills from eleven 
 to twelve o'clock at night, and it burned all the time steadily, it 
 had so far triumphed over the evil power of the witches, who, as 
 they passed to the Malkin Tower, would employ their utmost 
 efforts to extinguish the light, that the person whom it repre- 
 sented might safely defy their malice during the season ; but if 
 by any accident the light went out, it was an omen of evil to the 
 luckless wight for whom the experiment was made. It was also 
 deemed inauspicious to cross the threshold of that person until 
 after the return from leeting, and not then unless the candle had 
 preserved its light. Mr. Milner describes the ceremony as 
 having been recently performed. 
 
 29. 
 
 Mr. Sullivan quotes this quaint old carol at length in his 
 Cumberland and Westmoreland, Ancient and Modern; and 
 adds, ' This song is still sung at Penrith, having replaced one 
 called "Joseph and Mary," in the early part of the century. 
 Yet its antiquity is undoubted, and it has probably come here 
 from Lancashire, where it is well known.' 
 
 As, however, it is by no means so widely known as Mr. 
 Sullivan supposes, we may be pardoned if we reproduce it here. 
 The second and remaining verses are as follows : 
 
 ' I met three ships come sailing by, 
 Come sailing by, etc. 
 
 Who do you think was in one of them ? 
 In one of them ? etc. 
 
 The Virgin Mary and her Son, 
 And her Son, etc. 
 
 She combed His hair with an ivory comb. 
 An ivory comb, etc. 
 
 She washed His face in a silver bowl, 
 A silver bowl, etc. 
 
 She sent Him up to heaven to school, 
 To heaven to school, etc. 
 
 All the angels began to sing, 
 Began to sing, etc. 
 
 The bells of heaven began to ring, 
 Began to ring, etc.'
 
 APPENDIX. 263 
 
 Mr. Samuel Bamford says that Middleton Parish Church 
 was the scene of a procession similar to that described in the 
 above legend, the observer being an avaricious old sexton who 
 was anxious to know what fees he should receive in the follow- 
 ing year. This worthy, on All Souls' night, stationed himself 
 in the sacred building, and counted the spirits he saw enter and 
 walk about, until he observed a double of himself. Of course, 
 soon afterwards there was a vacancy for a gravedigger at 
 Middleton, the sight having been too much for ' Old Johnny.' 
 
 A similar superstition reigns in various parts of England 
 and in Wales, where, at Christmas-time, says Mr. Croker, 
 quoting from a Welsh authority, the relatives of the deceased 
 listen at the church door in the dark, 'when they sometimes 
 fancy they hear the names called over in church of those who 
 are destined shortly to join their lost relatives in the tomb.' 
 
 In Cornwall, strange to say, it is a young unmarried woman 
 who, standing in the church porch at midnight on Midsum- 
 merVeve, sees the strange gathering. ' This is so serious an 
 affair,' says Professor Hunt, ' that it is not, I believe, often tried. 
 I have, however, heard of young women who have made the 
 experiment. But every one of the stories relate that they have 
 seen shadows of themselves coming last in the procession ; 
 that pining away from that day forward, ere Midsummer has 
 again come round they have been laid to rest in the village 
 graveyard.' 
 
 Mr. Sikes says that it is a Hallow-Een custom in some parts 
 of Wales to listen at the church door in the dark to hear 
 shouted by a ghostly voice in the edifice the names of those 
 who are shortly to be buried in the adjoining churchyard. In 
 other parts, he says, 'the window serves the same purpose,' 
 and, he adds, ' there are said to be still extant outside some 
 village churches steps which were constructed in order to enable 
 the superstitious peasantry to climb to the window to listen.' 
 These steps in several places seemed to me to be merely old 
 mounting blocks, but they may have been made use of for the 
 less practical purpose in question. 
 
 It is asserted that at the present day dogs cannot be induced 
 to go near this quarry, and that even closely hunted animals 
 will permit themselves to be captured rather than enter its re- 
 cesses.
 
 264 APPENDIX. 
 
 Few superstitions have a wider circle of believers in Lanca- 
 shire than that which attributes to dogs the power of foretelling 
 death and disaster. There are few people, however well edu- 
 cated, who would be able to resist a foreboding of coming woe 
 if they heard the howling of a strange dog under the window of 
 a sick person's room ; and, absurd as the dread so inspired 
 may seem to the sceptic, there is more ground for it than can 
 easily be explained away. It has frequently been urged that 
 the animals are attracted by the lighted window, and that their 
 howlings are nothing more than unpleasant appeals for admit- 
 tance ; and that often, by reason of the awe with which tradi- 
 tion has surrounded the noises, they terrify the invalid, and 
 produce the end they are supposed to foretell. This plausible 
 theory, however, does not account in any way for the similar 
 visitations made in the daytime, when there is no artificial light 
 to attract ; or for the singular facts, that generally the dog is a 
 stranger to the locality that it does not loiter about, but makes 
 its way direct to the particular house that it will wait until a 
 gate is opened, so that it may get near to the window that it 
 cannot be driven away before its mission has been performed 
 and that, in all cases, the howling is alike, invariably terminating 
 in three peculiar yelping barks, which are no sooner uttered than 
 the animal runs off, and is no more seen in the neighbourhood. 
 
 In Normandy the noise is considered an infallible presage of 
 death. 
 
 Mr. Kelly says that this superstition obtains credence in 
 France and Germany ; and that in Westphalia, a dog howling 
 along a road is considered a sure sign that a funeral soon will 
 pass that way. In the Scandinavian mythology, Hel, Goddess 
 of Death, is visible only to dogs. 
 
 The superstition has, at any rate, antiquity to recommend it s 
 and it seems evident from Exodus xi. 5-7, that even in the days 
 of the captivity of the Children of Israel in Egypt, the omen 
 was firmly believed in. 
 
 I was seated one summer evening in the drawing-room of a 
 house in one of the large London squares. The conversation 
 was of the ordinary after-dinner nature, but enlivened by the 
 remarks of more than one gifted guest. It was, however, sud- 
 denly interrupted in a very startling manner by the howling of 
 a dog, which had placed itself in the roadway facing the house, 
 regardless alike of the wheels of the numerous passing carriages 
 and cabs, and of the whips of the drivers. The lady of the 
 house, a north-country woman, said at once, as she rose from 
 her seat at the open window, ' That means death. I shall hear 
 of some sad trouble.' The dog would not be driven away by
 
 APPENDIX. 265 
 
 the angry coachmen and cabmen, but finished the howling 
 with three peculiar yelps, and then trotted off rapidly ; and 
 there was much jesting during the rest of the evening about the 
 strange occurrence. A few days afterwards, however, I was 
 informed that on the evening of the dinner-party the brother of 
 the hostess had died in North Lancashire. 
 
 33- 
 
 ' Th 1 Gabriel Ratchets ' strike terror into the heart of many 
 a moorland dweller in Lancashire and Yorkshire still, presag- 
 ing, as they are believed to do, death or sorrow to every one 
 who is so unfortunate as to hear them. In the popular idea 
 they are a pack of dogs yelping through the air. Our old 
 literature has many references to the superstition. In more 
 recent days, Wordsworth has introduced it in one of his 
 sonnets : 
 
 ' And oftentimes will start 
 For overhead are sweeping GABRIEL'S HOUNDS. ' 
 
 Mr. Philip Gilbert Hamerton, in a poem dated 1849, m l s 
 Isles of Loch Awe and other Poems, which he has kindly given 
 me permission to quote here, says of them, 
 
 ' Faintly sounds the airy note, 
 And the deepest bay from the staghound's throat, 
 Like the yelp of a cur, on the air doth float, 
 And hardly heard is the wild halloo.' 
 and 
 
 ' They fly on the blast of the forest 
 That whistles round the withered tree, 
 But where they go we may not go, 
 Nor see them as they fly. ' 
 
 Mr. Hamerton, however, goes beyond the Lancashire peasant, 
 at any rate so far as I have been able to ascertain, for I never 
 met any one in the hill country or on the moorlands of the 
 North who fancied that the throng included anything but 
 Ratchets, i.e. dogs, for the poet goes on to sing 
 
 ' Hark ! 'tis the goblin of the wood 
 
 Rushing down the dark hill-side, 
 With steeds that neigh and hounds that bay.' 
 
 Mr. Henderson has recorded that, about Leeds, the flight is 
 
 " 
 
 pposed to be that of ' the souls of unbaptized children doomed 
 flit restlessly above their parents' abode.' In Germany, cer- 
 
 )C< 
 
 01 
 
 : V 
 
 tainly the Wild Hunt or Furious Host is accompanied by un- 
 baptized children, and it has been recorded that a woman, 
 about the year 1800, died of grief upon learning that the Furious 
 Host had passed over the village where her still-born child had 

 
 266 APPENDIX. 
 
 died just before. Mr. Kelly (Indo-European Tradition) very 
 ably and poetically resolves all the various superstitions of this 
 Wild Hunt into figurative descriptions of natural phenomena, 
 but Mr. Yarrell, the distinguished naturalist, reduces the cries 
 of the Gabriel Hounds into the whistling of the Bean Goose, 
 Anser Segettim, as the flocks are flying southward in the night, 
 migrating from Scandinavia. 
 
 In Wales ' The Whistlers,' the cry of the golden-plover, is 
 considered an omen of death, but it seems to be a quite distinct 
 superstition from that of the C-wn Ann-wn, or Dogs of Hell, 
 which latter is a Wild Hunt. 
 
 I have heard the weird cry of the Gabriel Ratchets at night 
 in several of the northern countries, and in the loneliness and 
 gloom of early winter in the heart of the hills, or upon a wild 
 bleak moorland, it was difficult to overcome a sudden feeling 
 of dread when the yelps rang forth, even with Mr. Yarrell's 
 scientific explanation fresh in my mind. 
 
 To sketch the ramifications of the superstition of the Wild 
 Hunt, however, would require a volume, so numerous and 
 various are they. 
 
 34- 
 
 In the old witch-mania records it is not unusual to find a 
 cock sacrificed to the Evil One, and Satan's dislike of cock- 
 crow has become proverbial. Brand has pointed out that the 
 Christian poet Prudentius (fourth century) mentions that anti- 
 pathy as a tradition of common belief. In an old German story 
 Satan builds a house for a peasant who agrees to pay his soul 
 for the work. A condition is made, however, that this house 
 must be completed before cock-crow, and the wily peasant, 
 just before the last tile is put on the roof, imitates the bird of 
 morn, upon which all the cocks in the locality crow, and Satan, 
 baffled, flees. 
 
 The Evil One's appearance in the form of a cat, a goat, a pig, 
 an old woman, a black dog, a stylish gentleman, and the con- 
 ventional shape, with hoof and horns, have been testified to, 
 and Calmet (Trait '/ sur les apparitions des E sprits et sur les 
 Vampires, 1751) alludes to his taking the shape of a raven, but 
 I have not met with any record of his appearance as a cock. 
 In this case, however, that was insisted upon, although it was 
 suggested that it might have been some other fowl. 
 
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