Lays and Legends of the English Lake Country

NOTES TO "THE CUCKOO IN BORRODALE."

If the traditions of the past, and the estimate formed of them by their distant neighbours, bear rather hardly upon the people of Borrodale, it must be remembered that the relations of that dale to the world without were very different a hundred years ago from what they are now. It was a recess, approached by a long and winding valley, from the vale of Keswick, with the lake extending between its entrance and the town. The highest mountains of the district closed round its head. Its entrance was guarded by a woody hill, on which had formerly stood a Roman fortress, afterwards occupied by the Saxons, and which in later times was maintained in its military capacity by the monks of Furness. For here one of their principal magazines was established, and the holy fathers had great possessions to defend from the frequent irruptions of the Scots in those days. Besides their tithe corn, they amassed here the valuable minerals of the country; among which salt, produced from a spring in the valley, was no inconsiderable article.

In this deep retreat the inhabitants of the villages of Rosthwaite and Seathwaite, having at all times little intercourse with the country, during half the year were almost totally excluded from all human commerce. The surrounding hills attract the vapours, and rain falls abundantly; snow lies long in the valleys; and the clouds frequently obscure the sky. Upon the latter village, in the depth of winter, the sun never shines. As the spring advances, his rays begin to shoot over the southern mountains; and at high noon to tip the chimney tops with their light. That radiant sign shows the cheerless winter to be now over; and rouses the hardy peasants to the labours of the coming year. Their scanty patches of arable land they cultivated with difficulty; and their crops late in ripening, and often a prey to autumnal rains, which are violent in this country, just gave them bread to eat. Their herds afforded them milk; and their flocks supplied them with clothes: the shepherd himself being often the manufacturer also. No dye was necessary to tinge their wool: it was naturally a russet brown; and sheep and shepherds were clothed alike, both in the simple livery of nature. The procuring of fuel was among their greatest hardships. Here the inhabitants were obliged to get on the tops of the mountains; which abounding with mossy grounds, seldom found in the valleys below, supplied them with peat. This, made into bundles, and fastened upon sledges, they guided down the precipitous sides of the mountains, and stored in their outbuildings. At the period to which we refer, a hundred years ago, the roads were of the rudest construction, scarcely passable even for horses. A cart or any kind of wheeled carriage was totally unknown in Borrodale. They carried their hay home upon their horses, in bundles, one on each side: they made no stacks. Their manure they carried in the same manner, as also the smaller wood for firing: the larger logs they trailed. Their food in summer consisted of fish and small mutton; in winter, of bacon and hung mutton. Nor was their method of drying their mutton less rude: they hung the sheep up by the hinder legs, and took away only the head and entrails. In this situation, I myself, says Clarke, have seen seven sheep hanging in one chimney.

The inhabitants of Borrodale were a proverb, even among their unpolished neighbours, for ignorance; and a thousand absurd and improbable stories are related of their stupidity; such as mistaking a red-deer, seen upon one of their mountains, for a horned horse; at the sight of which they assembled in considerable numbers, and provided themselves with ropes, thinking to take him by the same means as they did their horses when wild in the field, by running them into a strait, and then tripping them up with a cord. A chase of several hours proved fruitless; when they returned thoroughly convinced they had been chasing a witch. Such like is the story of the mule, which, being ridden into the dale by a stranger bound for the mountains, was left in the care of his host at the foot of a pass. The neighbours assembled to see the curious animal, and consulted the wise man of the dale as to what it could be. With his book, and his thoughts in serious deliberation, he was enabled to announce authoritatively that the brute was a peacock! So when a new light broke into Borrodale, and lime was first sent for from beyond Keswick; the carrier was an old dalesman with horse and sacks. Rain falling, it began to smoke: some water from the river was procured by him to extinguish the unnatural fire; but the evil was increased, and the smoke grew worse. Assured at length that he had got the devil in his sacks, as he must be in any fire which was aggravated by water, he tossed the whole load over into the river. The tale of the stirrups is perhaps a little too absurd even for Borrodale. A "'statesman" brought home from a distant fair or sale, what had never before been seen in the dale, a pair of stirrups. Riding home in them, when he reached his own door, his feet had become so fastened in them, that they could not be got out; so as there was no help for it, he patiently sat his horse in the pasture for a day or two, his family bringing him food, then it was proposed to bring them both into the stable, which was done; his family bringing him food as before. At length it occurred to some one that he might be lifted with the saddle from the horse, and carried thereupon into the house. There the mounted man sat spinning wool in a corner of the kitchen, till the return of one of his sons from St. Bees school, whose learning, after due consideration of the case, suggested that the good man should draw his feet out of his shoes: when to the joy of his family he was restored to his occupation and to liberty. But the story of the Cuckoo has made its local name the "Gowk" synonymous with an inhabitant of the vale. There the Spring was very charming, and the voice of the bird rare and gladsome. It occurred to the natives that a wall built across the entrance of their valley, at Grange, if made high enough, would keep the cuckoo among them, and make the cheerful Spring-days last for ever. The plan was tried, and failed only because, according to popular belief from generation to generation, the wall was not built one course higher.

The wetness of the weather in Borrodale is something more than an occasional inconvenience. It may be judged of by observations which show the following results. The average quantity of rain in many parts of the south of England does not exceed 20 inches, and sometimes does not even reach that amount. The mean rain fall for England is 30 inches. Kendal and Keswick have been considered the wettest places known in England; and the annual average at the former place is 52 inches. It was found by experiments made in 1852, that while 81 inches were measured on Scawfell Pike; 86 at Great Gable; 124 at Sty Head; 156 were measured at Seathwaite in Borrodale; shewing, with the exception of that at Sprinkling Tarn, between Scawfell, and Langdale Pikes, and Great Gable, where it measured 168 inches nearly, the greatest rainfall in the Lake District to be at the head of Borrodale. Taking a period of ten years, the average annual rainfall at Seathwaite in that dale was over 126 inches; for the rest of England it was 29 inches.

KING EVELING

King Eveling stood by the Azure River,When the tide-wave landward began to flow;And over the sea in the sunlight's shiver,He watch'd one white sail northward go."Twice has it pass'd; and I linger, weary:How I long for its coming, my life to close!My lands forget me, my halls are dreary,And my age is lonely; I want repose."If rightly I read the signs within me,The tides may lessen, the moon may wane,And then the Powers I have serv'd will win meA pathway over yon shining plain."It befits a King, who has wisely spoken,Whose rule was just, and whose deeds were brave,To depart alone, and to leave no tokenOn earth but of glory—not even a grave."And now I am going. No more to know me,My banners fall round me with age outworn.I have buried my crown in the sands below me;And I vanish, a King, into night forlorn."What of mine is good will endure for ever,Growing into the ages on earth to be,When—Eveling dwelt by the Azure River,A King—shall be all that is told of me."For days the tides with ebbing and flowingGrew full with the moon; and out of the dim,On the ocean's verge came the white sail growing,And anchor'd below on the shoreward rim.His people slept. For to them descended,In that good time of the King, their rest,While the lengthening shades of the eve yet blendedWith the golden sunbeams low in the west.No banded host on his footsteps waited,No child nor vassal from bower or hall:He look'd around him like one belatedOn a lonely wild; and he went from all.Slowly he strode to the ship; and for everSailed out from the land he had ruled so well;And the name of the King by the Azure RiverIs all that is left for the bards to tell.

NOTES TO "KING EVELING."

The ancient, but now insignificant town and seaport of Ravenglass, six miles from Bootle and about sixteen from Whitehaven, is situated on a small creek, at the confluence of the rivers Esk, Mite, and Irt, which form a large sandy harbour. Of this place the Editor of Camden, Bishop Gibson, says—"The shore, wheeling to the north, comes to Ravenglass, a harbour for ships, and commodiously surrounded with two rivers; where, as I am told, there have been found Roman inscriptions. Some will have it to have been formerly called Aven-glass, i.e. (Cœruleus) an azure sky-coloured river; and tell you abundance of stories about King Eveling, who had his palace here."

Ravenglass appears from Mr. Sandford's M.S. to have been of old of some importance as a fishing town. He says—"Here were some salmons and all sorts of fish in plenty; but the greatest plenty of herrings, (it) is a daintye fish of a foot long; and so plenteous a fishing thereof and in the sea betwixt and the ile of man, as they lie in sholes together so thike in the sea at spawning, about August, as a ship cannot pass thorow: and the fishers go from all the coast to catch them."

There was also formerly a considerable pearl-fishery at this place: and Camden speaks of the shell-fish in the Irt producing pearls. Sir John Hawkins obtained from government the right of fishing for pearls in that river. The pearls were obtained from mussels, by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, who sought for them at low water, and afterwards sold them to the jewellers. About the year 1695, a patent was granted to some gentlemen, for pearl-fishing in the Irt; but how the undertaking prospered is uncertain. The pearl-mussels do not appear to have been very plentiful for many years. Nicolson and Burn observe, that Mr. Thomas Patrickson, of How in this County, is said to have obtained as many from divers poor people, whom he employed to gather them, as he afterwards sold in London for £800.

Tacitus in the "Agricola" describes the pearls found in Britain as being of a dark and livid hue. Pliny also:—"In Britain some pearls do grow, but they are small and dim, not clear and bright." And again:—"Julius Cæsar did not deny, that the breast-plate which he dedicated to Venus Genitrix, within the temple, was made of British pearls." So that it is not at all improbable that our little northern stream even may have contributed in some degree to the splendour of the imperial offering.

The manor in which Ravenglass is included is dependent on the barony of Egremont; and King John granted to Richard Lucy, as lord paramount, a yearly fair to be held here on St. James's day, and a weekly market every Saturday; and at the present time the successor to the Earls of Egremont, Lord Leconfield, holds the fair of Ravenglass, on the eve, day, and morrow of St. James. Hutchinson thus describes it:—"There are singular circumstances and ceremonies attending the proclamation of this fair, as being anciently held under the maintenance and protection of the Castle of Egremont. On the first day, the lord's steward is attended by the sargeant of the Borough of Egremont, with the insignia (called the bow of Egremont), the foresters, with their bows and horns, and all the tenants of the forest of Copeland, whose special service is to attend the lord and his representative at Ravenglass fair, and abide there during its continuance; anciently, for the protection of a free-trade, and to defend the merchandise against free-booters, and a foreign enemy: such was the wretched state of this country in former times, that all such protection was scarce sufficient. For the maintenance of the horses of those who attend the ceremony, they have by custom, a portion of land assigned in the meadow, called, or distinguished, by the name of two Swaiths of grass in the common field of Ravenglass. On the third day at noon, the earl's officers, and tenants of the forest depart, after proclamation; and Lord Muncaster (as mesne lord) and his tenants take a formal repossession of the place; and the day is concluded with horse races and rural diversions."

A genuine specimen of feudal observances is preserved in the custom of riding the boundaries of manors, which, in the mountain district, where the line of division is not very distinct, is performed perhaps once during each generation, by the representatives of the lord of the manor, accompanied by an immense straggling procession of all ages,—the old men being made useful in pointing out important or disputed portions of the boundary, and the young in having it impressed on their memories, so that their evidence or recollection may be made available in future peregrinations. In older times, when the interests of the lords outweighed farther than in our own day the rights of the peasantry, certain youthful members of the retinue, in order to deepen the impression and make it more enduring, were severely whipped at all those points which the stewards were most anxious to have held in remembrance. The occasions always wind up with a banquet, provided on a most liberal scale by the lord of the manor, and open to all who take part in the business of the day.

Another local usage connected with the landed interest, and long observed with notable regularity, was the following. When salmon was plentiful in the Cumberland rivers, and formed a very important element in the ordinary living of the occupants of adjoining lands, the tenants of the manor of Ennerdale and Kinniside claimed "a free stream" in the river Ehen, from Ennerdale lake to the sea, and assembled once a year to "ride the stream." If obstructions were found, such as weirs and dams, they were at once destroyed. Refreshments were levied or provided at certain places on the river for the cavalcade. This custom has long ceased to be observed.

About a quarter of a mile to the south east of this place is an old ivy-mantled ruin, designated Wall Castle. It is said to have been the original residence of the Penningtons, but in all probability it dates from a much remoter period. Stone battle-axes and arrow-heads have been found around it, and coins of different people, principally Roman and Saxon. The building is strongly cemented with run lime.

This old castle stands at no great distance from the second cutting through which the railroad passes after leaving Ravenglass: adjoining to which, a little below the surface of the ground, an ancient fosse and several foundations of walls have been laid bare by the owner of the estate, and large quantities of building stone removed from them at various times. In making this cutting, the workmen laid open an ancient burial place, which was of great depth, and contained a quantity of human remains, with several bones of animals. The sides were secured by strong timber and stone work. The buried bodies were very numerous, and the place was evidently of very great antiquity. From the presence of oak leaves and acorns, charred wood, etc., it has been supposed to have been the tomb of the victims in some Druidical sacrifice: it being known that the Druids immolated their criminals, by placing them collectively in the interior of a large image of wickerwork, and then setting fire to it; and that various animals were sacrificed along with them by way of expiation.

About five miles to the east of Ravenglass is the small lake of Devoke Water, near the foot of which, on the summit of a considerable hill, stand the ruins of another interesting piece of antiquity, the so-called city of Barnscar or Bardscar. Its site is so elevated, as to command a wide extent of country, and an ancient road from Ulpha to Ravenglass passes through it. The name is purely Scandinavian, and tradition ascribes it to the Danes. A well known popular saying in the locality refers to the manner in which this city is said to have been peopled by its founders, who gathered for inhabitants the men of Drigg and the women of Beckermet. The original helpmates of the latter place are supposed to have fallen in battle: what had become of the wives and daughters of the former place is not averred. But the saying continues—"Let us gang togidder like t' lads o' Drigg, an' t' lasses o' Beckermet."

The description of this place given by Hutchinson at the latter end of last century is as follows:—"This place is about 300 yards long, from east to west; and 100 yards broad, from north to south; now walled round, save at the east end, near three feet in height; there appears to have been a long street, with several cross ones: the remains of housesteads, within the walls, are not very numerous, but on the outside of the walls they are innumerable, especially on the south side and west end; the circumference of the city and suburbs is near three computed miles; the figure an oblong square." It is added that about the year 1730, a considerable quantity of silver coin was found in the ruins of one of the houses, concealed in a cavity, formed in a beam; none of which unfortunately has been preserved, to throw light upon the name, the race, or character and habits of its possessors.

From the Pow to the Duddon innumerable objects of interest lie scattered between the mountains and the sea coast, of which little more can be said than was stated, as above, by Camden's editor—"Some tell you abundance of stories about them"—as well as "about King Eveling, who had his palace here."

SIR LANCELOT THRELKELD

The widows were sitting in Threlkeld Hall;The corn stood green on Midsummer-day;Their little grand-children were tossing the ball;And the farmers leaned over the garden wall;And the widows were spinning the eve away.They busily talk'd of the days long gone,While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day;How old Sir Lancelot's armour had shoneOn the panels of oak by the broad hearthstone,Where the widows sat spinning that eve away.For, Threlkeld Hall of his mansions three—Where the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—Was his noblest house; and a stately treeWas the good old Knight, and of high degree;And a braver rode never in battle array.Now peaceful farmers think of their corn—The corn so green on Midsummer-day—Where once, at the blast of Sir Lancelot's horn,His horsemen all mustered, his banner was borne;And he went like a Chief in his pride to the fray.And there the good Clifford, the Shepherd-Lord,When the corn stood green on Midsummer-day,Sat, humbly clad, at Sir Lancelot's board;And tended the flocks, while rusted his swordIn the hall where the widows were spinning away;Till the new King called him back to his own—When the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—To his honours and name of high renown;When Sir Lancelot old and feeble had grown;From his rude shepherd-life called Lord Clifford away.And sad was that morrow in Threlkeld Hall—And the corn was green on that Midsummer-day—When the Clifford stood ready to part from all;And his shepherd's staff was hung up on the wall,In that room where the widows sat spinning away.And Sir Lancelot mounted, and called his men—While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—And he gazed on Lord Clifford again and again;And Sir Lancelot rode with him over the plain;And at length with strong effort his silence gave way."I am old," Sir Lancelot said; "and I know—When the corn stands green on Midsummer-day—There will wars arise, and I shall be low,Who ever was ready to arm and go!"—For he loved the war tramp and the martial array."If ever a Knight might revisit this earth—While the corn stands green on Midsummer-day"—Said the Clifford—"When troubles and wars have birth,Thou never shalt fail from Threlkeld's hearth!"From that hearth where the widows were spinning away.And so, along Souther Fell-side they press'd—While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day,—And then they parted—to east and to west—And Sir Lancelot came and was laid to his rest.Said the widows there spinning the eve away.And the Shepherd had power in unwritten lore:The corn stands green on Midsummer-day:And although the Knight's coffin his banner hangs o'er,Sir Lancelot yet can tread this floor;Said the widows there spinning the eve away.—Thus gossip'd the widows in Threlkeld Hall,While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day:When the sound of a footstep was heard to fall,And an arm'd shadow pass'd over the wall—Of a Knight with his plume and in martial array.With a growl the fierce dogs slunk behind the huge chair,While the corn stood green on that Midsummer-day;And the widows stopt spinning; and each was awareOf a tread to the porch, and Sir Lancelot there—And a stir as of horsemen all riding away.They turned their dim eyes to the lattice to gaze—While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—But before their old limbs they could feebly raise,The horsemen and horses were far on the ways—From the Hall, where the widows were spinning away.And far along Souter Fell-side they strode,While the corn stood green on that Midsummer-day.And the brave old Knight on his charger rode,As he wont to ride from his old abode,With his sword by his side and in martial array.Like a chief he galloped before and behind—While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—To the marshalled ranks he waved, and signed;And his banner streamed out on the evening wind,As they rode along Souter Fell-side away.And to many an eye was revealed the sight,While the corn stood green that Midsummer-day;As Sir Lancelot Threlkeld the ancient KnightWith all his horsemen went over the height:O'er the steep mountain summit went riding away.And then as the twilight closed over the dell—Where the corn stood green that Midsummer-day—Came the farmers and peasants all flocking to tellHow Sir Lancelot's troop had gone over the fell!And the widows sat listening, and spinning away.And the widows looked mournfully round the old hall;And the corn stood green on Midsummer-day;"He is come at the good Lord Clifford's call!He is up for the King, with his warriors all!"—Said the widows there spinning the eve away."There is evil to happen, and war is at hand—Where the corn stands green this Midsummer-day—Or rebels are plotting to waste the land;Or he never would come with his armed band"—Said the widows there spinning the eve away."Our old men sleep in the grave. They cease:While the corn stands green on Midsummer-day—They rest, though troubles on earth increase;And soon may Sir Lancelot's soul have peace!"Sighed the widows while spinning the eve away."But this was the Promise the Shepherd-Lord—When the corn stood green that Midsummer-day—Gave, parting from Threlkeld's hearth and board,To the brave old Knight—and he keeps his word!"Said the widows all putting their spinning away.

NOTES TO "SIR LANCELOT THRELKELD."

The little village of Threlkeld is situated at the foot of Blencathra about four miles from Keswick, on the highroad from that town to Penrith. The old hall has long been in a state of dilapidation, the only habitable part having been for years converted into a farm house. Some faint traces of the moat are said to be yet discernible. This was one of the residences of Sir Lancelot Threlkeld, a powerful knight in the reign of Henry the Seventh, step-father to the Shepherd Lord. His son, the last Sir Lancelot, was wont to say that he had "three noble houses—one for pleasure, Crosby in Westmorland, where he had a park full of deer; one for profit and warmth, wherein to reside during winter, namely, Yanwath, near Penrith; and the third, Threlkeld, on the edge of the vale of Keswick, well stocked with tenants to go with him to the wars." Sir Lancelot is said to have been a man of a kind and generous disposition, who had either taken the side of the White Rose in the great national quarrel, or at least had not compromised himself to a ruinous extent on the other side; and has long had the reputation of having afforded a retreat to the Shepherd Lord Clifford, on the utter ruin of his house, after the crushing of the Red Rose at Towton, when the Baron (his late father) was attained in parliament, and all his lands were seized by the crown.