“In the Civil Wars of the Commonwealth, there resided in Kendal one Colonel Briggs, a leading magistrate, and an active commander in the Cromwellian army. At that time, also, Robert Philipson, surnamed from his bold and licentious character,Robin the Devil, inhabited the island on Windermere, called Belle Isle. Colonel Briggs besieged Belle Isle for eight or ten days, until the siege of Carlisle being raised, Mr. Huddleston Philipson, of Crook, hastened from Carlisle, and relieved his brother Robert. The next day, being Sunday, Robin, with a small troop of horse, rode to Kendal to make reprisals.“He stationed his men properly in the avenues, and himself rode directly into the church in search of Briggs, down one aisle and up another. In passing out at one of the upper doors, his head struck against the portal, whenhis helmet, unclasped by the blow, fell to the ground and was retained. By the confusion into which the congregation were thrown, he was suffered quietly to ride out. As he left the churchyard, however, he was assaulted; his girths were cut, and he himself was unhorsed. His party now returned upon the assailants; and the Major, killing with his own hands the man who had seized him, clapped the saddle upon his horse, and, ungirthed as it was, vaulted into it, and rode full speed through the streets, calling to his men to follow him; and with his party made a safe retreat to his asylum on the lake. The helmet was afterwards hung aloft, as a commemorating badge of sacrilegious temerity.”
“In the Civil Wars of the Commonwealth, there resided in Kendal one Colonel Briggs, a leading magistrate, and an active commander in the Cromwellian army. At that time, also, Robert Philipson, surnamed from his bold and licentious character,Robin the Devil, inhabited the island on Windermere, called Belle Isle. Colonel Briggs besieged Belle Isle for eight or ten days, until the siege of Carlisle being raised, Mr. Huddleston Philipson, of Crook, hastened from Carlisle, and relieved his brother Robert. The next day, being Sunday, Robin, with a small troop of horse, rode to Kendal to make reprisals.
“He stationed his men properly in the avenues, and himself rode directly into the church in search of Briggs, down one aisle and up another. In passing out at one of the upper doors, his head struck against the portal, whenhis helmet, unclasped by the blow, fell to the ground and was retained. By the confusion into which the congregation were thrown, he was suffered quietly to ride out. As he left the churchyard, however, he was assaulted; his girths were cut, and he himself was unhorsed. His party now returned upon the assailants; and the Major, killing with his own hands the man who had seized him, clapped the saddle upon his horse, and, ungirthed as it was, vaulted into it, and rode full speed through the streets, calling to his men to follow him; and with his party made a safe retreat to his asylum on the lake. The helmet was afterwards hung aloft, as a commemorating badge of sacrilegious temerity.”
The episode was used by Sir Walter Scott for some particularly spirited lines in “Rokeby” (stanza 33, canto vi.), and in his notes Sir Walter explained that “This, and what follows, is taken from a real achievement of Major Robert Philipson, called from his desperate and adventurous courageRobin the Devil.” A reference to the poem will show that this, as dealing with fact, can only be applied to the first sixteen lines, which run:—
“The outmost crowd have heard a soundLike horse’s hoofs on hardened ground;Nearer it came, and yet more near,—The very death’s-men paused to hear.’Tis in the churchyard now—the treadHath waked the dwelling of the dead!Fresh sod and old sepulchral stoneReturn the tramp in varied tone.All eyes upon the gateway hung,When through the Gothic arch there sprungA horseman armed, at headlong speed—Sable his cloak, his plume, his steed.Fire from the flinty floor was spurned;The vaults unwonted clang returned!—One instant’s glance around he threw,From saddle-bow his pistol drew.”
Mr. Stockdale, in his “Annals of Furness,” says there was a tradition in his time that the Parliamentarians in 1643 stabled three troops of horse in the nave of Cartmell Church; and there can be no doubt that to similar base uses other ecclesiastical structures in the diocese were occasionally put in turbulent times. Carlisle Cathedral was often used for purposes of war, and it was not free from other exciting scenes. During the Commonwealth it was the centre of much rioting. George Fox preached there, and files of musketeers had to be brought in to clear the place of the rioters. After the ill-fated rebellion of ’45, the cathedral was still further degraded, being made into a prison for captured Highlanders.
Undera great variety of divisions many curious facts connected with the old-time churches of the northern counties might be noted that cannot here be touched upon. Some of them—especially those associated with the personal aspect—had their origin solely in the circumstances of the time; others may be traced to personal idiosyncracies; while geographical reasons may be found for a third class. With a few exceptions it has not been deemed necessary in this chapter to go beyond the Reformation. Among the records concerning Kendal Church is a reference in the Patent Rolls of 1295, in which Walter de Maydenestane is described as “parson of a moiety of the church of Kirkeby, in Kendale.” An inquiry inNotes and Queries[6]brought the suggestion that probably this was one of the places which used to have both a rector and a vicar, several instances of that arrangement having been in force being mentioned. No information was, however, forthcoming as to the Kendal case.
Boy bishops are not unknown, and Westmorland affords an instance of an infant rector, the following appearing in the list for Long Marton, as compiled by Dr. Burn:—“1299. John de Medburn, an infant, was presented by Idonea de Leyburne, and the Bishop committed the custody of the said infant to a priest named William de Brampton, directing him to dispose of the profits of the rectory in such manner as to provide for the supply of the cure, and the education of the young rector in some public school of learning.” If John de Medburn ever took up the duties of his office, it could not have been for any extended period, as another rector was instituted in 1330.
There was a curious dispute at Holme Cultram in 1636. The Rev. Charles Robson, who five years previously had become vicar, being a bachelor of divinity, demanded that the parish should provide him with a hood proper to his degree. The parishioners objected on the ground that such a claim had never been made before, the previous vicars having provided their own hoods, and that Mr. Robson had on all proper occasions, as required by the canons, worn a hood of his own until within half a year of the dispute arising. Acase was stated and a legal opinion taken; the result was entirely against the vicar, who made his position worse, inasmuch as it was laid down that while the churchwardens were not to provide the hood, they could be the means, through the ordinary, of compelling a priest who was a graduate to wear his hood, according to the 58th canon. Another instance of a clergyman going to law with his parishioners was that of the Rev. John Benison, vicar of Burton, who was dissatisfied with the payments of the vicarial revenues. The dispute found its way into Chancery, and Benison, in 1732, secured the following scale of payments:—“For burial in the church or churchyard shall be paid 1s., except for women who die in childbirth, for whom nothing is due. The modus for tithe lands shall be double for the two first years after the induction of a new vicar, and every person keeping a plough shall pay yearly 1d. in lieu and full satisfaction of agistment of barren cattle.”
Bishop Nicolson has left some curious pictures of the parsons in the diocese of Carlisle at the time when he made his visitation in the early years of the eighteenth century. The clergy of that time were for the most part not remarkablefor their learning, although there were some notable exceptions. These were the victims of circumstances; they lived in what was really a dark age, and no one can feel surprised that so many gave way to drinking and other unclerical habits. Several, either openly or in the names of their wives, kept ale-houses; there was one rather glaring instance of this kind on the western side of Cross Fell. Poverty was continually their share; an instance of the life some of them led is recorded by James Clarke,[7]of Penrith:—
“Langdale is as poor as any in these parts, except for the slate quarries, and the slaters (like the miners in Patterdale) debauch the natives so far that even the poor curate is obliged to sell ale to support himself and family. And at his house I have played ‘Barnaby’ with him on the Sabbath Day morning, when he left us with the good old song—‘I’ll but preach, and be with you again.’”
“Langdale is as poor as any in these parts, except for the slate quarries, and the slaters (like the miners in Patterdale) debauch the natives so far that even the poor curate is obliged to sell ale to support himself and family. And at his house I have played ‘Barnaby’ with him on the Sabbath Day morning, when he left us with the good old song—
‘I’ll but preach, and be with you again.’”
William Litt (1785-1847), the author of “Henry and Mary,” a story of West Cumberland life, which was very popular a generation ago, says:—“It is a well authenticated fact that a rector of Arlecdon left his pulpit for the purpose of bestowing manual correction on one of his parishioners, whom he conceived was then insultinghim. The surplice, however, was such an impediment to his usual lightness of foot that his intended victim, after a severe chase, effected his escape, and for that time eluded the chastisement intended for him by his spiritual pastor.” Although nothing is known as to the identity of the cleric who thus endeavoured to deal with a supposed offender, possibly it was Thomas Baxter, who was incumbent for 62 years (1725 to 1787). He figures by name in “Henry and Mary,” and is represented as on one occasion reprimanding Squire Skelton, of Rowrah, very severely for swearing.
In 1653 George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, visited Cumberland. One Sunday afternoon he entered the church, and standing on a seat, he preached three hours to an overflowing congregation; he says in his journal, “Many hundreds were convinced that day.” A short time afterwards he again visited the church on a Sunday morning, and entered into a long theological argument with Mr. Wilkinson, the vicar, who lost his dinner in consequence. The discussion continued almost to nightfall; the result seems to have been the conversion of the vicar and the majority of his congregation, as it is onrecord that Mr. Wilkinson afterwards became a distinguished minister of the Society of Friends.
The old customs peculiar to Cumberland and Westmorland of “Whittlegate” and “Chapel Wage” have long since passed out of the list of obligations imposed, although the rector of Brougham might still, if he wished, claim whittlegate at Hornby Hall every Sunday. The parsons of the indifferently educated class already alluded to had to be content with correspondingly small stipends, which were eked out by the granting of a certain number of meals in the course of twelve months at each farm or other house above the rank of cottage, with, in some parishes, a suit of clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes, and a pair of clogs. Clarke gives the following explanation of the origin of the term:—
“Whittlegate meant two or three weeks’ victuals at each house, according to the ability of the inhabitants, which was settled among themselves; so that the minister could go his course as regularly as the sun, and complete it annually. Few houses having more knives than one or two, the pastor was often obliged to buy his own knife or ‘whittle.’ Sometimes it was bought for him by the chapel wardens. He marched from house to house with his ‘whittle,’ seeking ‘fresh fields and pastures new,’ and as master of the herd, he had the elbow chair at the table head, which was often made of part of a hollow ashtree—a kind of seat then common. The reader at Wythburn had for his salary three pounds yearly, a hempen sark or shirt, a whittlegate, and a goosegate, or right to depasture a flock of geese on Helvellyn. A story is still (1789) told in Wythburn of a minister who had but two sermons which he preached in turn. The walls of the chapel were at that time unplastered, and the sermons were usually placed in a hole in the wall behind the pulpit. One Sunday, before the service began, some mischievous person pushed the sermons so far into the hole that they could not be got out with the hand. When the time came for the sermon, the priest tried in vain to get them out. He then turned to the congregation, and told them what had happened. He could touch them, he said, with his forefinger, but could not get his thumb in to grasp them; ‘But, however,’ said he, ‘I can read you a chapter out of Job that’s worth both of them put together!’”
There may be other instances of the formal appointment of females to undertake church work usually performed by the other sex, but the writer has only met with one local example, which occurs thus in the Kendal churchwardens’ accounts:—“1683, June 29. It is then agreed & consented too by the major part of the churchwardens that Debora Wilkinson shall be continued saxton till next Easter, she keeping under her so sufficient a servant as shall please the Vicar & whole prish & she to give sufficient security to the churchwardens for her fidelity. As alsoe it was thengranted by the major parte of church wardens that the said Debora Wilkinson for her paines herein shall have & receive to her owne use for every coffin in the church 2s. 6d. (she or her deputy in takeing up of fflaggs in the church or lying them downe to place them leveally & in good order, breaking none of them), and the said Debora or her servant shall make clean the church att all times according to the Vicar’s order, and to keepe the font wthfaire water, changeing itt every fforthnigh or as often as the Vicar pleaseth.”
The uses of some parts of ancient buildings have puzzled gentlemen thoroughly acquainted with church architecture, for the simple reason that certain of the arrangements might have been made for a variety of purposes. Leper windows are perhaps sufficiently numerous to show the intention of the builders, but there are instances where that is not at all easy to define. The side windows in Bolton Church, near Wigton, one of which has been described by the Rev. Hilderic Friend as a leper window, was suggested by the late Mr. Cory as being “for such a purpose as giving out alms or receiving confession,” as they always had hinges and bolts for shutters, but notglass. Chancellor Ferguson put forward the further theory that as lepers could not come into the church, they made confession at these windows. Dr. Simpson rejected these statements, and said that lamps were placed in the low side windows of some churches after funerals to scare away evil spirits—an interesting addition to North-Country folk-lore. Leprosy was apparently a serious trouble in the two counties five or six centuries ago. John de Vetripont gave to Shap Abbey the hospital of St. Nicholas, near Appleby, on condition that the abbot and convent should maintain three lepers in the hospital for ever. In 1356 Sir Adam, rector of Castlekayroke (Castle Carrock), was cited to show cause why, being seized with leprosy to such a degree that his parishioners dare not resort to divine service, he ought not to have a coadjutor assigned him.
There are still to be found traces in some of the older churches of the rooms of anchorites. Experts have stated that the vestry at Greystoke seems to have been used as an anchor-hold or reclusorium. It is believed that two reclusi, or inclusi, sometimes dwelt together there, one living in the vestry and the other in the room above. The latter apartment may have been used for achantry priest, a church watcher, or a sacristan. Among the architectural curiosities of the two counties may be noted the church tower of Kirkoswald. The parish church is built at the foot of a steep hill, facing the Eden, while the old market town is on the sharply rising ground at the rear. The parishioners would thus have but a small chance of hearing the bells when sounded for service if they occupied the ordinary place. Consequently for a very long time—certainly before the present church was built—the two bells have been placed in a detached tower on the top of the hill at the rear of the church, and over a hundred yards away from the building.
Many ecclesiastical buildings, from the cathedral down to the humblest village chapel-of-ease, would seem to have had curious inscriptions or pictures upon their walls. Nearly all these have disappeared, and later comers are indebted for their knowledge of what has been to such industrious chroniclers as Machell, Burn, and others. The former put on paper in 1692 the following lines, which were on the walls of the south chapel of Kirkby Lonsdale Church:—
“This porch by ye Banes first builded was,Of Heighholme Hall they weare;And after sould to Christopher Wood,By William Bains thereof last heyre;And is repayred as you see,And set in order goodBy the true owner nowe thereofThe fore saide Christopher Wood.”
As in our own day the restoration or alteration of a church frequently caused much ill-feeling in a parish, and there are records of several such “scenes” in Cumberland and Westmorland in bygone days. One such was at Sebergham, where the church was rebuilt in 1825-6, and a tower built at the west end. On the first Sunday that the edifice was opened the following protest in rhyme was found nailed to the church door:—
“The priest and the miller built the church steepleWithout the consent or good will of the people.A tax to collect they tried to imposeIn defiance of right and subversion of laws.The matter remains in a state of suspension,And likely to be a sad bone of contention.If concession be made to agree with us allLet the tax be applied to build the church wall.
Churchyard wall now in a ruinous state. Sebergham High Bound, July 12, 1826.”
While dealing with the architectural curiosities of North-Country churches, allusion should bemade to a story connected with that at Ambleside. A piece of painted glass on the north side of the old church has a representation of what is locally known as the carrier’s arms—a rope, a wantey-hook, and five packing pricks, or skewers, these being the implements used by the carriers and wool staplers for fastening their packing sheets together. The tradition is that when the church needed rebuilding, together with the chapels of St. Mary Holm, Ambleside, Troutbeck, and Applethwaite, which were all destroyed or rendered unfit for divine worship, the parish was extremely poor; the parishioners at a general meeting agreed that one church would serve the whole. The next question was, where it should stand. The inhabitants of Undermillbeck were for having it at Bowness. The rest thought that as Troutbeck Bridge was about the centre of the parish, it should be built there. Several meetings in consequence were held, and many disputes and quarrels arose. At last a carrier proposed that who ever would make the largest donation towards the building should choose the situation of the church. An offer so reasonable could hardly be refused, and many gifts were immediately named. The carrier, who had acquired afortune by his business, heard them all, and at last declared that he would cover the church with lead. This offer, which all the rest were either unable or unwilling to outdo, at once decided the affair. The carrier chose the situation, and his arms (or more properly his implements) were painted on the north window of the church. Tradition adds that this man obtained the name of Bellman, from the bells worn by the fore-horse, which he first introduced there.
Several instances of fonts having found their way from churches to private grounds have been made known during recent years, one being at Penrith, and others at Musgrave and Brough-under-Stainmore. On the western side of the county, in the grounds of Mr. T. Dixon, Rheda, is the ancient font, dated 1578, belonging to Arlecdon Church. In the third decade of this century, says the Rev. H. Sugden in his notes on the history of the parish, it was acting at a farm-house as a trough to catch rain-water from the roof. Subsequently the font was found by Mr. Dixon in a stone wall at Rowrah Hall, and was removed to its present place of safety. It seems that the contractor who rebuilt the church in 1829, was allowed to use or dispose of any ofthe material or contents. The font and an ancient tombstone of the Dixons, were sold by him, and while the font was made into a water-catcher, the tombstone found its way to a farm at Kirkland, where it was utilised as a sconce in the dairy. Occasionally churchwardens were guilty of what would seem to have been vandalism. At Kirkby Lonsdale (1686), they recorded the last of a Norman font:—“Received for the old font stone, 6d.”
Among the regulations made by the Head Jurie of Watermillock in 1627 was this:—“Item, It is ordered by the jurie that every tennent of this parish shall sitt in church in their own seats that hath formerly been set forth to their ancestors. And if any have a desire to sitt in the Lady Porch, besides such as have their ancient Rooms therein, they shall sitt there paying yearly for the same to the use of the Church ijd. prAnnum.” The churchwardens were evidently kept close to their duties by the same authority, as may be seen by this entry in the book:—“It is ordered that the Churchwardens of this Parish shall not be discharged of their office in any year before the Church Stock be fully answered at the sight and judgment of the Head Jury for the time being.”
This action probably had its origin in the losses of public funds which had to be deplored in many parishes in consequence of the money being lent out at interest. “Culyet” is not a word to be found in the standard dictionaries of our time, although it appears in the parochial records of Millom. Canon Knowles took the word to mean the free-will offerings made from house to house, being used at Christ Church, Oxford, as the equivalent of “collecta,” a collection. In some of the parishes which lent out church funds, rather heavy rates of security were exacted—at Millom the arrangement was seven and a half per cent. Hence there can be no room for surprise that so many parishes have had reason to deplore “lost stock.”
Crosthwaite differed from other places in the manner of selecting and swearing the churchwardens and sidesmen, the form being settled by the Commissioners for Ecclesiastical Causes in Queen Elizabeth’s time. They decreed “That yearly, upon Ascension Day, the vicar, the eighteen sworn men, the churchwardens, the owner of Derwentwater estate, the sealer and receiver of the Queen’s portion at the mines, one of the chiefest of the company and fellowship ofthe partners and offices of the minerals, then resiant at Keswick, the bailiffs of Keswick, Wythburn, Borrowdale, Thornthwaite, Brundholme, and the forester of Derwent Fells, shall meet in the church of Crosthwaite, and so many of them as shall be there assembled shall chuse the eighteen men and churchwardens for the year ensuing, who shall on the Sunday following before the vicar take their oath of office.”
The seating of the men and women on different sides of the church was a proceeding once so common as to almost remove it from the list of curiosities. The churchwardens’ books of Crosthwaite contain very minute orders as to where every person in the parish should sit, and in other places a similar rule obtained. In these days of “free and open churches” it is interesting to read of the arrangements which the churchwardens and vicar made so as to allocate every seat in St. Patrick’s Church, Bampton, in 1726. The rule appears to have been based on the land tax, and the list begins with “The Lord Vis. Lonsdale,” who had one complete stall for the use of the tenants of Bampton Hall, another for Low Knipe, and other seats elsewhere. The whole of the inhabitants seem to have been provided for, thecatalogue concluding with a statement of the accommodation set apart for the school-master of Measand and the school-dame at Roughill; the master at Bampton Grange, being an impropriator, found a place among the aristocracy on “the Gospel side” of the chancel.
Some quaint entries concerning the provision and cost of wine for sacred purposes—and for other uses not always answering that description—are to be met with in several of the parochial records. In the vestry book of Cockermouth is this entry for June, 1764:—“Ordered that all the wine for the communicants be bought at one house where the Churchwardens can get it the best and cheapest. Ordered that no wine be given to any clergyman to carry home.” At one of the meetings of the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian Society, the late Canon Simpson produced a paper which showed that very heavy sums, comparatively, had been spent at Kendal in providing Communion wine. One item was for £6, another £9, and again £11, while opposite one of the entries was the remark: “That is exclusive of wine used at Easter.” It was customary for the vicar or rector to give the Easter Communion wine, receiving in returnEaster dues. On another occasion, when the Bishop of Chester was to visit the church, the wardens ordered a bottle of sack to be placed in the vestry.
An interesting ceremony has long been gone through at Dacre Church in connection with the distribution of the Troutbeck Dole. The principal representative of the family now living is Dr. John Troutbeck, Precentor of Westminster. The Rev. Robert Troutbeck, in 1706, by his will gave to the poor of Dacre parish, the place of his nativity, a sum of money, the interest of which was ordered to be “distributed every year by the Troutbecks of Blencowe, if there should be any living, otherwise by the minister and churchwardens for the time being.” A more curious proviso was contained in the will of John Troutbeck, made in 1787. By that document £200 was left to the poor of the testator’s native parish, and the interest was ordered to be “distributed every Easter Sunday, on the family tombstone in Dacre churchyard, provided the day should be fine, by the hands and at the discretion of a Troutbeck of Blencowe, if there should be any living, those next in descent having prior right of distribution. If none should be living that would distribute themoney, then by a Troutbeck as long as one could be found that would take the trouble of it; otherwise by the minister and churchwardens of the parish for the time being; that not less than five shillings should be given to any individual, and that none should be entitled to it who received alms, or any support from the parish.” The custom was carried out in due form on the “through-stone” last Easter.
Kirkby Stephen, up to about sixty years ago, had a very curious custom—the payment, on a fixed day every year, upon a tombstone still in the churchyard, of the parishioners’ tithe. The late Mr. Cornelius Nicholson, in a now scarce pamphlet on Mallerstang Forest, gave the following account of the observance:—
“The tombstone is unhewn millstone grit, covered with a limestone slab, whereon a heraldic shield was once traceable, supposed to indicate the ownership of the Whartons. Tradition says, however, that it is older than the tombs in the Wharton Chapel. Among the parishioners it went popularly by the name of the great ‘truppstone,’ a corruption perhaps of ‘through-stone.’ It is certain, however—and this is the gist of the story—that for generations, time out of mind, the money in lieu of tithes of hay was here regularly paid to the incumbent of the church on Easter Monday. The grey coats of this part of Westmorland assembled punctually as Easter Monday came round, and there and then tendered to thevicar their respective quotas of silver. Some agreement, oral or written, must have been made between the parties, which does not now appear. The practice became the law of custom. The payment was called a modus in lieu of hay tithe. I find that when Lord Wharton purchased the advowson at the dissolution of monasteries the tithes of corn and hay were excepted from the conveyance, which points to this customary modus on the ‘truppstone.’ If this reference be correct, the curious custom dates back to the time of Henry the Eighth, and perhaps farther back, and gives it a continuance of some 300 years.“We don’t know its origin, but we do know its extinction. When the Rev. Thomas P. Williamson became vicar, in the first decade of this century, a quarrel arose between him and the tithe-payers as to this modus. Law proceedings were threatened, and some preliminaries were taken. The parishioners, notwithstanding, attended on Easter Monday as before, and tendered their doles. The vicar also attended, but determinedly refused the money, until his death in 1835, which put a stop to the custom. After his death, the vicar’s widow set up a claim for the arrears, which had been offered and refused, so she took nothing by her motion. In 1836 all the tithes were commuted in England, under the provision of the Tithes Commutation Act, carried into execution by a Cumberland M.P., Mr. Aglionby, whom I knew very well, in Lord John Russell’s Ministry. These particulars of the ‘truppstone’ were furnished me by Mr. Matthew Thompson, Kirkby Stephen, one of the county magistrates, who himself—and this clenches it as a fact—yearly attended in the churchyard, with his quota, and who was present on the very last occasion.”
“The tombstone is unhewn millstone grit, covered with a limestone slab, whereon a heraldic shield was once traceable, supposed to indicate the ownership of the Whartons. Tradition says, however, that it is older than the tombs in the Wharton Chapel. Among the parishioners it went popularly by the name of the great ‘truppstone,’ a corruption perhaps of ‘through-stone.’ It is certain, however—and this is the gist of the story—that for generations, time out of mind, the money in lieu of tithes of hay was here regularly paid to the incumbent of the church on Easter Monday. The grey coats of this part of Westmorland assembled punctually as Easter Monday came round, and there and then tendered to thevicar their respective quotas of silver. Some agreement, oral or written, must have been made between the parties, which does not now appear. The practice became the law of custom. The payment was called a modus in lieu of hay tithe. I find that when Lord Wharton purchased the advowson at the dissolution of monasteries the tithes of corn and hay were excepted from the conveyance, which points to this customary modus on the ‘truppstone.’ If this reference be correct, the curious custom dates back to the time of Henry the Eighth, and perhaps farther back, and gives it a continuance of some 300 years.
“We don’t know its origin, but we do know its extinction. When the Rev. Thomas P. Williamson became vicar, in the first decade of this century, a quarrel arose between him and the tithe-payers as to this modus. Law proceedings were threatened, and some preliminaries were taken. The parishioners, notwithstanding, attended on Easter Monday as before, and tendered their doles. The vicar also attended, but determinedly refused the money, until his death in 1835, which put a stop to the custom. After his death, the vicar’s widow set up a claim for the arrears, which had been offered and refused, so she took nothing by her motion. In 1836 all the tithes were commuted in England, under the provision of the Tithes Commutation Act, carried into execution by a Cumberland M.P., Mr. Aglionby, whom I knew very well, in Lord John Russell’s Ministry. These particulars of the ‘truppstone’ were furnished me by Mr. Matthew Thompson, Kirkby Stephen, one of the county magistrates, who himself—and this clenches it as a fact—yearly attended in the churchyard, with his quota, and who was present on the very last occasion.”
An incident which in some respects has had atleast one counterpart within recent years is recorded as happening at Little Salkeld towards the end of the fourteenth century. The little chapel there was “desecrated and polluted by the shedding of blood,” and as the parish church of Addingham was a considerable distance, the vicar was allowed to officiate in his own vicarage-house “till the interdict should be taken off from the chapel.”
There is a curious story attaching to some of the wood-work of Greystoke Church. The misereres under the choir stalls are very quaintly carved, and one of them, “the pelican in her piety,” was for many years used as the sign of an inn near the church. From this circumstance the hostelry lost its old name, the “Masons’ Arms,” and acquired the modern one of the “Pelican.”
Although schools in churches were very common, the holding of Courts in such buildings could not have been frequent. At Ravenstonedale, where numerous customs peculiar to the parish or immediate district prevailed, the people had a strong belief in home rule, and insisted on having it. In the old church there were two rows of seats below the Communion table, where the steward of the manor and jury sat in their Courtof Judicature in the sixteenth century. The malefactors were imprisoned in a hollow arched vault, the ruins of which were to be seen not much more than a quarter of a century ago on the north side of the church. There was so much wrangling over cases, and the manifestation of such a bad spirit, which the parishioners felt was unbecoming and unsuited to such an edifice, that they petitioned Lord Wharton, the lord of the manor, to have the trying of cases removed to a house belonging to him which stood near the church. This was granted, and subsequently the Court was held in the village inn and other places.
“A gentleman who carries out archidiaconal functions,” is the familiar, though vague, definition of an archdeacon in our own time, but a couple of centuries ago that church official had very definite duties and powers. As Mr. G. E. Moser, solicitor, Kendal, once reminded the members of the two counties’ Archæological Society, the visits of the Archdeacon of Richmond to Kendal—where he sentenced offenders from his chair of state erected in the High Quire—were looked forward to with awe and reverence. The churchwardens’ books contain the following among other entries:—“Paid for bent to strawe in the HighQuire against Sir Joseph [Cradock] came.” “Paid to the Churchwardens, which they laid out when they delivered their presentments to Sir Joseph Cradock.” “Paid for washing and sweeping the Church against Sir Joseph’s coming to sitt his Court of Correction, which was the 7 July, 1664.” “At the peremptory day, being the 18th day of October, 1664, the general meeting of the churchwardens, whose names are herunder written doth order that Geo. Wilkinson shall keep the clock and chimes in better order, and shall keep swine out of the churchyard, and whip the dogs out of the church in time of divine service and sermon, and remove the dunghill and the stable-door which opens into the churchyard before the next peremptory day, and reform all abuses belonging to his office, or else the Churchwardens will make complaint so that it shall be referred to the ordinary.”
Chancellor Ferguson told the members that he had found in some documents, relating to an unnamed Cumberland church, an order that no swine should be allowed in the churchyard unless they had rings in their noses! There are many reminders available of the days when rushes or other growths were put on church floors, by suchentries as that in Waberthwaite registers, dated 1755:—“Bent bought, 12d.” At Millom there are charges for dressing the church. Between 1720 and 1783 there are several entries in the Hawkshead registers with reference to “strawing the church”—meaning the covering of the floor with rushes. There are also here, as at Penrith and some other places, allusions to payments for collecting moss, with which the rain was often kept out of the churches.
It was, even within the last half century, a common occurrence for dogs to accompany their owners to church, but the officials did not appreciate the custom. Mr. John Knotts, in 1734, left an estate at Maulds Meaburn for the use of the poor of the township, from which five shillings yearly had to be paid for keeping dogs out of Crosby Ravensworth Church. The legality of the will was disputed on a technicality, and the heir-at-law paid a sum of money instead, which was invested, but how long the crown was paid for anti-dog purposes is not known. The Rev. J. Wilson wrote in his parochial magazine a few years ago:—“In the olden days in Dalston there was an officer whose duty it was to whip dogs out of church during service time, and, strange as it mayseem, the custom under another name and in somewhat altered guise existed till the old church was demolished in 1890. The parish dog-whipper had £1 a year for his salary during the latter portion of the 18th century, when the duties of the office were extended to other matters. In the parish accounts the following entry occurs: ‘May 3, 1753 John Gate for whipping the Dogs out of church, opening and shutting ye sashes, sweeping ye church &c. for one year, £01 00 00.’ The same entry occurs regularly every year till 1764, when his widow undertakes the job: ‘May 6th 1764 Wid: Gate for whipping ye Dogs out of ye church, opening and shutting ye sashes, sweeping ye church £01 00 00.’ The office of dog-whipper continues to be mentioned every year till 1774, when it disappears, and the entry is changed to: ‘May 1, 1774, Wid: Gate for cleaning ye church £01 00 00.’” The church records show that at Penrith an annual payment of two shillings was made for many years to the dog-whipper. Among the items bearing on church expenses contained in the Torpenhow registers in 1759, was an annual allowance of 5s. to the sexton for whipping dogs out of the church, and that he might the more efficiently do his work he wasgranted an extra allowance of 3d. for a whip and 2d. for a thong. There is an item in the Waberthwaite records which runs:—“According to the canons laitly sett down, four sydmen [synodsmen] are to be appointed every year, one of whose duties is to keepe the dogges out of the chirche, 1605.” At Hawkshead a dog-whipper was provided from 1723 to 1784. If the following paragraph, which appeared in theCumberland Pacquet, in January, 1817, may be believed, there was at least one dog which would not incur the wrath of either parson or dog-whipper:—“Mr. William Wood of Asby, parish of Arlecdon, has a cur dog which for these four years past has regularly attended church, if within hearing of the bells; and what is more singular, the animal never misses going to his master’s seat whether any of the family attend or not.”
Nodoubt because of the proximity of the district to the Border, the tenures by which certain properties were held in Cumberland and Westmorland must be regarded as quite local in their character. The observances are, of course, all the more interesting on that account, and even in cases for which parallels are to be found in other parts of the kingdom, little peculiarities may sometimes be seen in local instances which throw light on the former habits of the people. Lords of manors were once individuals possessed of great powers. The lords of Millom held their property for hundreds of years, and hadjura regaliawithin the seignory, in memory of which a modern stone erected at Gallow, half a mile below Millom Castle, has the inscription,
“Here the Lords of Millom exercised jura regalia.”
The lord of the manor of Troutbeck, Windermere, is also believed to have formerly exercised a jurisdiction over capital offences.
Where such powers existed, it is by no meanssurprising that the homage exacted from tenants and servitors on various occasions was of a character that in modern days would be regarded as extremely degrading. Thus when a free tenant went to his lord’s residence to do homage according to custom and duty, he was ushered into the presence of his superior without sword or other arms, and with his head uncovered. The lord remained seated, and the tenant with profound reverence knelt before the great man. With his clasped or joined hands placed between those of the lord, the homager repeated the following vow, which seems to have been in practically the same terms in various manors:—“I become your man from this day forward, for life, for member, and for worldly honour, and unto you shall be true and faithful, and bear you faith for the lands that I hold of you, saving the faith that I owe to our Sovereign Lord the King.” The lord, still sitting, then kissed the tenant, as a token of his approbation. In Cumberland and Westmorland there are several villages named Carleton, this being one of the reminders of the days of serfdom. The carls were simply the basest sort of servants—practically slaves.
The former servile condition of the poor in theneighbourhood of barons’ houses is also preserved in such names as Bongate, or as it was always written in old documents, Bondgate, at Appleby. In the great trial between the Cliffords and the burghers, when the former claimed the services of the freemen, it was decided that neither Robert de Vetripont nor any of his heirs ever had seizin of the borough, where the burgesses lived, but that King John gave to him “Vetus Apilbi ubi villani manent”—“Old Appleby, where the bondmen dwell.” The bondmen, or villeins, were probably of the same social standing as those known as drenges, the Cliffords having very many drengage tenements in various parts of their Sheriffwick. “The drenges were pure villeins—doubtless Saxons kept in a state of the vilest slavery, being granted by the lords of the manor, with a piece of land, like so many oxen. In fact they were as much the property of the lord of the manor as the negroes in the West Indian Colonies were formerly the property of the sugar planters. It is probable that the drenges were employed to perform all the servile and laborious offices at Brougham Castle; for in 1359, Engayne, lord of Clifton, granted to Roger de Clifford, by indenture, the service of John Richardson, and several othersmentioned by name, with their bodies and all that belonged to them.”[8]
In the reign of Richard the First there was given to the church of Carlisle, “lands in Lorton, with a mill there, and all its rights and appendages, and namely the miller, his wife, and children”—apparently clear evidence of the servitors being regarded as part of the property.
Several manorial lords claimed for their tenants the right to go toll-free throughout England. This was the case with Armathwaite, while the privilege also pertained to the prioress and nuns at Nunnery. The manor of Acorn Bank, near Temple Sowerby, used to have the right, or rather the privilege was claimed. In the time of the late Mr. John Boazman (the immediate predecessor of Mr. Henry Boazman, the present owner), the following was written:—“The lords of this manor can still claim and exercise for themselves and tenants all the privileges granted to the Knights Templars, the most important of which is exemption from toll throughout England. The tenants when travelling carry a certificate, signed and sealed by the lord of the manor. This certificate, after reciting part of the old charter,concludes as follows:—‘Which charter [that of Henry the Second] was confirmed by King Charles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, in the fourth year of his reign, in witness whereof I, the said John Boazman, as lord of the manor, have executed and set my manorial seal.’” The burgesses of Appleby also possessed under their early charters privileges of a like character, and these would doubtless be of very appreciable value.
The ancient family of Hoton, or Hutton, were by Edward the Third, in consideration of the service rendered to him by Thomas de Hoton in the wars against Scotland, restored to the bailiwick and office of keeping the King’s land or forest in Plumpton, which was first bestowed upon them prior to the time of Edward the First. It is believed that this led to the family taking a horn as their badge. Besides the monetary payment of something under £2 yearly, it was found in the reign of Henry the Seventh that the lands were also held by the service of holding the stirrup of the King’s saddle while his Majesty mounted his horse in the Castle of Carlisle. The adjoining manor of Newton Reigny was held in the early days of the Lowthers by the service of finding for the King in his wars against Scotland one horseman witha horse of the value of forty shillings, armed with a coat of mail, an iron helmet, a lance, and a sword, abiding in the war for forty days with the King’s person. At a later date the terms were varied; there was then the paying of two shillings per annum for cornage, and the providing, for the King’s army, “one horseman with habiliments, one lance, and one long sword.” Penrith and five other manors were once held by the Kings of Scotland by paying one soar-hawk yearly to the constable of the Castle of Carlisle, with some privileges concerning rights in Inglewood Forest. The manor of Cargo, near Carlisle, was held for many generations by the family of de Ross, by the rendering of a hawk or a mark of silver yearly. When the same manor was the property of the Lacys, it was held by cornage, and afterwards by the Vescys for a mew’d hawk yearly in lieu of all services.
In the manor of Gaitsgill and Raughton were twenty-two freehold tenants in 1777, who paid 28s. 8¾d. yearly free rent, did suit and service at the lord’s court when called upon, and paid yearly to the Duke of Portland as chief lord of the Forest of Inglewood £2 13s. 2d., besides sending a man to appear for them at the Forest Court at Hesketevery St. Barnabas’s Day, and that representative was to be on the inquest. This manor was at the Conquest “all forest and waste ground,” and was enclosed by one Ughtred, who held of the King “for keeping the eyries of hawks which bred in the Forest of Inglewood.” The posterity of Ughtred took their surname from Gatesgill, and adopted the sparhawk for their cognisance. The neighbouring manor of High Head (Higheved) was held of Edward the Third by William English by the service of one rose yearly. Later, in the time of Henry the Eighth, it was held by William Restwold as an approvement of the forest by fealty and the service of rendering at the King’s exchequer of Carlisle one red rose yearly at the feast of St. John the Baptist.
In the reign of Philip and Mary, Alexander Armstrong was granted a considerable amount of property, including a mill, in the parish of Gilcrux, at a very low rental, on condition of finding and maintaining five horsemen “ready and well-furnished, whenever the King and Queen and the successors of the Queen shall summon them within the county.” In documents belonging to the abbey of Holme Cultram, whereby Flemingby (now known as Flimby, between Maryport andWorkington) was handed over to the monks, Gospatric, the donor, inserted a clause that he would himself do for the monastery “noutegeld and the like due to the King; and also to the lord of Allerdale of seawake, castleward, pleas, aids, and other services.” The nutgeld tax—an impost apparently peculiar to the Border counties—was even last century frequently enforced in Cumberland and Westmorland.
The custom of providing for gilt spurs was of a practical kind, the articles being peculiarly useful to the grantor. “Every knight (who served on horseback) was obliged to wear gilt spurs; hence they were calledequites aurati.” The reservation, by Gospatrick, of homage to be performed by William de Lancastre has provided some interesting questions for past generations of historians and antiquaries. William de Lancastre the second gave thirty marks to the King that he might have the privilege of fighting a duel with Gospatrick, and the theory propounded was that this contest was caused because “the tenant’s proud spirit could not brook such a humiliation as that of doing homage.” Remembering the conditions of life, the supposition is not at all improbable, for what man of good birth wouldcare to submit to perform the service described in the second paragraph of this chapter? In the same parish of Kirkby Lonsdale, William de Pickering had the manor of Killington granted to him for the yearly payment of a pair of gilt spurs, or sixpence, at the feast of Pentecost, and the service of the twentieth part of one knight’s service when occasion should require.
Alice Lucy, a member of the once very powerful family of that name, reserved out of Wythop a penny rent service, or a pair of gloves; and a long time afterwards it was found that Sir John Lowther, knight, held the same manor “by homage, fealty, and suit of court at Cockermouth ... and the free rent of one penny or one red rose.” The manor, now held by Sir Henry R. Vane, Bart., Hutton-in-the-Forest, was subsequently sold to the Fletchers under the services just mentioned. In addition to a heavy fine, and a rental of £10 yearly, Thomas de Multon paid “one palfrey for the office of forester of Cumberland,” granted to the family by King John. One of Multon’s ancestors, Richard de Lucy, also gave money and a palfrey in order to obtain the grant and other privileges.
At Hesket, yearly, on St. Barnabas’s Day, bythe highway side under a thorn tree (according to the very ancient manner of holding assemblies in the open air), wrote Nicolson in 1777, was kept the Court for the whole forest of Inglewood, to which Court the manors within that vast circumference (above twenty in number), owed suit and service; and a jury was there impannelled and sworn for the whole forest. It is a shadow or relic of the ancient Forest Courts; and here they pay their compositions for improvements, purprestures, agistments, and puture of the foresters, and the jurors being obliged to attend from the several manors, seems to be part of that service which was calledwitnesman. “Improvements” in this case means permission to take up open lands belonging to the manorial lord.
Horn tenures, locally known as cornage, were common. At Brougham Hall is preserved the old and quaintly fashioned horn which was sounded by the former owners of the estates in complying with the requirement to blow a horn in the van of the King and his army, when the monarch went into Scotland, or at other times when the Scots made incursions to the southern side of the Border. An interesting relic of the same description is possessed at Carlisle—the“Horn of the Altar.” The Charter Horn has thus been described by Archdeacon Prescott:—“In the year 1290 a claim was made by the King, Edward the First, and by others, to the tithes on certain lands lately brought under cultivation in the Forest of Inglewood. The Prior of Carlisle appeared on behalf of his convent, and urged their right to the property on the ground that the tithes had been granted to them by a former King, who had enfeoffed them by a certain ivory horn which he gave to the Church of Carlisle, and which they possessed at that time. The Cathedral of Carlisle has had in its possession for a great number of years, two fine walrus tusks, with a portion of the skull. They appear in ancient inventories of the goods of the cathedral as ‘one horn of the altar in two parts,’ or ‘two horns of the altar’ (1674), together with other articles of the altar furniture. But antiquaries came to the conclusion that these were identical with the ‘ivory horn’ referred to above.... Such Charter Horns were not uncommon in ancient days.”
Blackmail used to bear a significance not fully understood by the modern use of the word. In the north of England it signified, especially inCumberland, a certain rent of money, corn, or other things, anciently paid to persons inhabiting upon or near the Border, being men of name and power, allied with certain robbers within those counties, to be freed and protected from the devastations of those depredators. By 43 Elizabeth, cap. 13, it was provided that to take any such money or contribution, called blackmail, to secure goods from rapine, was made capital felony, as well as the offences such contribution was meant to guard against. Tenants in those old times had nearly all the privileges of paying; their opportunities for getting anything without cash or labour were few. One such concession which they enjoyed was “plowbote,” being the right of tenants to take wood to repair their ploughs, carts, and harrows; and for the making of such articles of husbandry as rakes and forks. Fire-bote was the term applied to a right enjoyed by many tenants, being the fuel for firing, and obtainable out of the lands granted to them. Timber-lode was a service by which tenants were to carry to the lord’s house timber felled in his woods. The Dean and Chapter of Carlisle were formerly obliged to provide the tenants of the manor of Morland with wood for the reparation oftheir houses. This was released by an endowment of £16 per annum, being given by the Dean and Chapter to the school.
Boon services of all kinds were common in all the manors along what is known as the eastern fell side—the base of Cross Fell, and north and south thereof. Before they were enfranchised by Sir Michael le Fleming, the tenants of Skirwith had to supply such boons as reaping, mowing, ploughing, harrowing, carrying coals, and spinning a stipulated number of hanks of yarn. Up to the latter half of last century each tenant of the manor of Threlkeld was obliged to find half a draught for one day’s ploughing; give one day mowing, one day shearing, one day clipping, and one day salving sheep; one carriage load once in two years, but not to go above ten miles; and to dig and lead two loads of peats every year, the tenants to have sufficient meat and drink when they performed these services. The cottagers were to perform the same services, only instead of half a plough they were to find one horse with a harrow, and a footman instead of a carriage load. The tenants were also bound to the lord’s mill, pay the fortieth corn, and to maintain the wall and thatch of the mill. The tenants had house-boot (woodfor repairing their houses) as set out by the lord’s bailiff; peats, turves, ling, whins, limestone, and marl, with stones and slate for building. About 1764, half the tenants bought off these services at a cost of five guineas each, the mill service only excepted. The tenements paid twopence each yearly as greenhue rent, an impost which was once a common payment by Cumberland and Westmorland manorial tenants; along with it in the Eskdale and Mitredale manors of the Earls of Egremont was a due called “door-toll.” What may have been the origin of the latter seems to be now unknown.
At Parsonby, near Aspatria, the tenants had to give to the parson each one boon day yearly at reaping. In the neighbouring parish of Blennerhasset the tenants, besides being subjected to heriots, each provided one day at mowing, shearing, ploughing, and meadows dressing, and two days leading coals. Higher up the fells the score of tenants at High Ireby and Ruthwaite, under Mr. Fletcher, had to give one day a year, or pay threepence; one would suppose the most economical alternative was to pay cash. At Egremont the burgesses who had ploughs were obliged to till the lord’s demesne one day in the year, but everyburgess was required to find a reaper. In one of the manors of the parish of Wetheral, the tenants, in addition to their monetary payments, had to render to the Aglionby family, of Nunnery, boon days shearing and leading corn, with a certain quantity of oats called foster oats, six pecks being equal to four of Carlisle measure. Various attempts have been made within recent years to ascertain definitely what was the origin and meaning of the term. Nicolson says it was “perhaps heretofore for the use of the foresters, this part being within the forest of Inglewood.” That this was probable is also shown by a rule which existed in the barony of Greystoke, which was held of the Kingin capiteby the service of one entire barony, rendering £4 yearly at the fairs of Carlisle, suit at the County Court monthly, and serving the King in person against Scotland. The lord’s tenants, of whom there were some hundreds early in this century, had to pay “a 20d. fine on the death of lord or tenant, and a 30d. fine upon alienation; also to pay foster rents, foster corn, mill rents, greenhue, peat silver, and boons for mowing and leading peats.”
There are many curious regulations bearing upon local tenures, but there is not lackingevidence that some of a still more noteworthy character have either been allowed to drop out of recognition, or the duties have been compounded for. Silver-penny fines are still enforced occasionally. In Mr. J. E. Hasell’s manor of Dacre, when a mortgagee of real estate is admitted to the court roll, he has to pay a fine of a silver penny for each. Heriots is a manorial impost about which some curious information has at various times been published. Many lords of manors and landlords have during the last half century allowed many of their rights in this direction to drop, while others have put on small money payments in lieu both of heriots and services. All customary property in the barony of Greystoke, except in the manor of Watermillock, is subject to heriots.
A curious custom obtains in Mr. H. C. Howard’s manor of Newbiggin (Dacre), as shown by a case which arose about thirty years ago. A married woman, seized in fee of customary lands, died, leaving a husband and child. The query was raised whether the husband was entitled to the estate for his own life “as tenant by the curtesy.” It was decided that by the custom of the manor, there being no will, the child orheir at law of a deceased married woman should take the property absolutely, to the exclusion of the husband. In the adjoining manor of Barton there is another interesting rule. A Pooley Bridge man, who held certain property of the manor by payment of a rent of a shilling per annum, died intestate and a bachelor. His nearest relatives were two nieces, daughters of a deceased brother. The question was asked whether the two women would be co-heiresses, as in some other manors, but the eldest was found to take all, to the exclusion of her sister. The custom of the manor of Inglewood is to the same effect, the eldest daughter, sister, or other female descendant inheriting.
A question arose some forty-five years ago as to a peculiar custom existing in the barony of Greystoke. Mr. William Bleaymire, the then steward, stated that by custom of that barony a customary tenant might convey such tenement without concurrence of his wife, as no widow was entitled to free bench in lands disposed of by her husband in his lifetime, he not dying seized thereof. Three or four years later a very similar question arose in the manor of Glassonby, the particular point being whether an owner coulddevise his customary land to his children so as to deprive his wife (to whom he was married prior to 1834) of her dower or free bench therein. The late Mr. Lawrence Harrison, the steward of the manor, decided that “the man dies seized of the customary tenement; therefore, notwithstanding his will, she is entitled to free bench according to the custom. The Dower Act in nowise affects the custom.” It is a well-known fact that the manorial customs in one village may be exactly contrary to those obtaining in an adjoining one. In some manors daughters are practically unnoticed, and in this connection an interesting point connected with the manor of Watermillock once came up. Mr. Bleaymire decided that an eldest daughter would be entitled to certain property in that manor, subject to her mother’s free bench, which was one half.
A fruitful source of litigation, and of disputes of a less costly character, may be found in the demands made even in quite recent times, that purchasers should personally attend the Manorial Court in order to have admittance. In some local cases such attendance is rigidly enforced, but in others—the manor of Edenhall for instance—the purchaser is admitted on production of deedof bargain and sale. The law books contain many cases in which this point has been stubbornly fought. In the manor of Cumwhitton no admittances are granted, but the property passes by deed of bargain and sale with the licence of the steward endorsed on the deed, and a simple enrolment of the purchaser. In the manors of Morland, Plumpton, and Croglin, the parties seeking to be admitted must attend in person or by attorney.
In the manor of Renwick, by an indenture mutually agreed upon in 1676, the tenants, in addition to a variety of financial payments, were obliged to scour and cleanse the water course to the lord’s mill from the bottom up to the mill trough head, and maintain the mill with wall and thatch; bring millstones thereto, and grind their corn thereat, paying a twenty-fourth multure. They were entitled to such house-boot as the steward might be pleased to allot. Some of the mills were of considerable value, a fact which will be readily understood when it is remembered how tenaciously lords of manors clung to the right almost down to our own time. The lord of Drigg had a mill, to which, as was so frequently the case, the tenants were bound. In these days,fortunately, this and other requirements are not enforced. The same manor had flotsam, jetsam, and lagan, “and so it was adjudged upon a trial at bar between Henry, Earl of Northumberland, and Sir Nicholas Curwen in Queen Elizabeth’s time, and afterwards a decree in Chancery for conforming the said prescription and securing that right to the sea against the lord paramount.”
The rector of Caldbeck is, or was, entitled to claim a God’s penny upon the change of tenant by death, in his manor in the lower part of the parish. Multure (“mooter”) was formerly a common form of tax in Cumberland; very many instances of its imposition by lords of manors might be quoted, but sometimes it extended to the markets. The following is a copy of a bill relating to a revolt on the part of the inhabitants of Cockermouth, but the writer has not been able to discover to what extent, and whether immediately, the residents in the old borough succeeded in their protest:—