BELLS.

"Kelly did all his feats uponThe devil's looking-glass—a stone."

In 1583 a Polish noble, Albert Lasque, palatine of Siradia [? Sieradz] being in England, Dee and Kelly were introduced to him, and accompanied him to Poland. He persuaded them to pay a visit to Rodolph, king of Bohemia, who, though a weak and credulous man, is said to have become disgusted with their pretensions. They had no better success with the king of Poland, but were soon after invited by a rich Bohemian noble to his castle of Trebona, where they continued for some time in great affluence, owing, as they asserted, to their transmuting the baser metals into gold. Kelly is said to have been sordid and grasping, without honour or principle. Lilly asserts that the reason of many failures in the conferences with spirits was because Kelly was very vicious, "unto whom the angels were not obedient, or willingly did declare [answers to] the questions propounded." Dee and Kelly quarrelled and separated in Bohemia; Dee returning to England, while Kelly remained at Prague. He died in 1595. In 1595 the Queen appointed Dee warden of Manchester College, he being then sixty-eight years of age. He resided at Manchester nine years, quitting it in 1604 for his old abode at Mortlake, where he died in 1608, agedeighty-one, in great poverty, and leaving a numerous family and a great many printed works and forty unpublished writings behind him. The catalogue of Dee's library at Mortlake shows that it was rich in the works of preceding astrologers and alchemists, especially those of Roger Bacon, Raymond Lully, Albertus Magnus, Arnold de Villa Nova, &c.

John Booker, a celebrated astrologer of the seventeenth century, was the son of John Bowker (commonly pronounced Booker), of Manchester, and was born 23rd March, 1601. He was educated at the Manchester Grammar School, where he acquired some acquaintance with Latin. From childhood he showed an inclination for astrology, and amused himself with studying almanacks and other books on that subject. After serving some time to a haberdasher in London, he practised as a writing-master at Hadley, Middlesex; and was subsequently clerk for some time to the aldermen at Guildhall. Becoming famous by his studies, he was appointed Licenser of Mathematical Publications, which then included all those relating to the "celestial sciences." Lilly tells us that he once thought him the greatest astrologer in the world; but he afterwards came to think himself a much greater man. George Wharton, who had been one of his astrological acquaintances, quarrelled with him, and in consequence published at Oxford in 1644, in answer to one of Booker's pamphlets, what he called "Mercurio-Cœlica-Mastyx; or an Anti-caveat to all such as have heretofore had the misfortune to be cheated and deluded by the great and treacherous impostor, John Booker; in an answer to his frivolous pamphlet, entitled 'Mercurius-Cœlicus, or a Caveat to all the People of England.'" Booker died of dysentery in April, 1667, and was buried in St. James's Church, Duke's Place, London, where the following monument was erectedto him by Ashmole, who was one of his greatest admirers:—"Ne oblivione conteretur Urna Johannis Bookeri, Astrologi, qui Fatis cessit 6 idus Aprilis,A.D.1667. Hoc illi posuit amoris Monumentum, Elias Ashmole, Armiger." Lilly, in hisLife and Times, gives the following character of Booker:—

"He was a great proficient in astrology, whose excellent verses upon the twelve months, framed according to the configurations of each month, being blest with success according to his predictions, procured him much reputation all over England. He was a very honest man; abhorred any deceit in the art he studied; had a curious fancy in judging of thefts; and was successful in resolving love questions. He was no mean proficient in astronomy; understood much of physic; was a great admirer of the antimonial cup; not unlearned in chemistry, which he loved, but did not practise; and since his decease I have seen a nativity of his performance, exactly directed, and judged with as much learning as from astrology can be expected. His library of books came short of the world's approbation, and were sold by his widow to Elias Ashmole, Esq., who most generously gave far more than they were worth."

Lilly and Booker were frequently consulted during the differences between the king and the parliamentary army, and were once invited by General Fairfax, and sent in a coach-and-four to head quarters at Windsor, to give their opinions on [i.e., their predictions as to] the prosecution of the war. Booker became famous for a prediction on the solar eclipse of 1613, in which year both the king of Bohemia and Gustavus, king of Sweden, died. Booker's works (chiefly tracts or pamphlets) were about fifteen or sixteen in number. The only work now worth notice is hisBloody Irish Almanack(London, 1646, quarto),which contains some memorable particulars relative to the war in Ireland.[27]

Another Lancashire astrologer was Charles Leadbetter, who was born at Cronton, near Prescot, and was the author of aTreatise on Eclipses of the Sun and Moon, commencingA.D.1715, and endingA.D.1749; in which he gives the horoscope of every eclipse of importance; and, from the aspects of the stars, predicts the principal occurrences that may be expected within limited periods. He failed, however, to predict the Rebellion of 1715, or that of 1745; and though under the years 1720 and 1721 he predicated "Sea Fights and Death of Fish," no hint of the "South Sea Bubble," the great event of those years, can be found amongst his prophecies. He entertained no doubt of an "eclipse of the moon, moving subjects to seduction [? sedition], servants to disobedience, and wives to a disorder against their husbands." Yet Leadbetter's Works on Astronomy, &c., were held in able repute, and he taught the "Arts and Sciences Mathematical" with much success, "at the Hand and Pen, Cock Lane, near Shore Ditch, London."

If we close here our notices of Lancashire Astrologers, it is not because we suppose the class to be wholly extinct. But those to whom we have so far referred, were well acquainted with astronomy, and erred only in superadding the delusions of astrology to the truths of that real science. The class still remaining in Lancashire, chiefly in country districts, are (with very few exceptions) greatly inferior in knowledge, and, mixing up the arts of the so-called sorcerer or conjuror with the deductions of the so-called "astral science" (of which they are blundering smatterers, often ignorant of the very elements of astronomy),they do not merit the name of astrologers, but should be classed with the numerous "wise men," "cunning women," and other varieties of fortune-tellers, who have not even the negative merit of being self-deluded by the phenomena of a supposed science; but are in their way mere charlatans and cheats, knowingly cozening their credulous dupes of as much money as they can extort. Some notices of this class will be found in later pages.

It is not with Bells generally, but only with Church Bells, and not with all their uses, but only such of them as are superstitious, that we are called upon to deal here. The large church bells are said to have been invented by Paulinus, Bishop of Nola, in Campania (whence the low Latin name of Campana), aboutA.D.400. Two hundred years afterwards they appear to have been in great use in churches. Pope John XIII., inA.D.968, consecrated a very large newly-cast bell in the Lateran Church at Rome, giving it the name of John. This is the first instance known of what has since been called "the baptising of bells," a Roman Catholic superstition of which vestiges remain in England in the names of great bells, as "Tom of Lincoln," "Great Tom of Oxford," &c. The priests anciently rung them themselves. Amongst their superstitious uses, were to drive away lightning and thunder; to chase evil spirits from persons and places; to expedite childbirth, when women were in labour; and the original use of the soul-bell or passing-bell was to drive away any demon that might seek to take possession of the soul of the deceased. Grose says that the passing-bell was anciently rung for two purposes: one, to bespeak the prayers of allgood Christians for a soul just departing; the other, to drive away the evil spirits who stood at the bed's foot and about the house, ready to seize their prey, or at least to molest and terrify the soul in its passage. By the ringing of the bell they were kept aloof, and the soul, like a hunted hare, gained the start, or had what sportsmen call "law." Hence the high charge for tolling the great bell of the church, which, being louder, the evil spirits must go further off to be clear of its sound, by which the poor soul got so much the more start of them; besides, being heard further off, it would likewise procure the dying man a greater number of prayers. Till about 1830, it was customary at Roman Catholic funerals in many parts of Lancashire, to ring a merry peal on the bells, as soon as the interment was over. Doubtless the greater the clang of the bells, the further the flight of the fiends waiting to seize the soul of the departed. There are some monkish rhymes in Latin on the uses of church bells, some of which are retained in the following doggerel:—

Men's deaths I tellLightning and thunderOn Sabbath allThe sleepy headThe winds so fierceMen's cruel rageBy doleful knell;I break asunder;To church I call;I raise from bed;I do disperse;I do assuage.

Men's deaths I tellLightning and thunderOn Sabbath allThe sleepy headThe winds so fierceMen's cruel rage

By doleful knell;I break asunder;To church I call;I raise from bed;I do disperse;I do assuage.

The following verses (the spelling modernized) further illustrate the subject:[28]—

"If that the thunder chance to roar, and stormy tempest shake,A wonder is it for to see the wretches how they quake;How that no faith at all they have, nor trust in any thing,The clerk doth all the bells forthwith at once in steeple ring;With wondrous sound and deeper far than he was wont before,Till in the lofty heavens dark the thunders bray no more.For in these christen'd bells they think doth lie much pow'r and mightAs able is the tempest great and storm to vanquish quite.I saw myself at Nurnberg once, a town in Toring coast,A bell that with this title bold herself did proudly boast:By name I 'Mary' called am, with sound I put to flightThe thunder-cracks and hurtful storms, and every wicked sprite.Such things when as these bells can do, no wonder certainlyIt is, if that the papists to their tolling always fly,When hail, or any raging storm, or tempest comes in sight,Or thunderbolts, or lightning fierce, that every place doth smite."

I saw myself at Nurnberg once, a town in Toring coast,A bell that with this title bold herself did proudly boast:By name I 'Mary' called am, with sound I put to flightThe thunder-cracks and hurtful storms, and every wicked sprite.Such things when as these bells can do, no wonder certainlyIt is, if that the papists to their tolling always fly,When hail, or any raging storm, or tempest comes in sight,Or thunderbolts, or lightning fierce, that every place doth smite."

Wynkin de Worde[29]tells us that bells are rung during thunder-storms, to the end that the fiends and wicked spirits should be abashed, and flee, and cease the moving of the tempest.[30]Bells appear to have had an inherent power against evil spirits, but this power was held to be greatly increased by the bells being christened. There is a custom in some Lancashire parishes, in ringing the passing-bell, to conclude its tolling with nine knells or strokes of the clapper, for a man, six for a woman, and three for a child; the vestiges of an ancient Roman Catholic injunction.[31]In an Old English Homily for Trinity Sunday,[32]it is stated that "the form of the Trinity was found in man; that was, Adam our forefather, on earth, one person, and Eve of Adam, the second person; and of them both was the third person. At the death of a man three bells should be rung, as his knell, in worship of the Trinity, and for a woman, who was the second person of the Trinity, two bells should be rung." Two couplets on the passing-bell may be inserted here:—

"When the bell begins to toll,Lord have mercy on the soul!When thou dost hear a toll or knellThen think uponthypassing-bell."[33]

"When the bell begins to toll,Lord have mercy on the soul!

When thou dost hear a toll or knellThen think uponthypassing-bell."[33]

The great bell which used to be rung on Shrove-Tuesdayto call the people together for the purpose of confessing their sins, or to be "shriven," was called the "Pancake Bell," and some have regarded it simply as a signal for the people to begin frying their pancakes. This custom prevails still in some parts of Lancashire, and in many country places throughout the North of England. Another bell, rung in some places as the congregation quits the church on Sunday, is popularly known among country people as the "pudding-bell," they supposing that its use is to warn those at home to get the dinner ready, as, in homely phrase, "pudding-time has come." A Lancashire clergyman[34]states that this bell is still rung in some of the old Lancashire parish churches; but he does not suggest any more probable reason for tolling this bell. The Curfew Bell [couvre feu, cover-fire] is commonly believed to be of Norman origin; a law having been made by William the Conqueror that all people should put out their fires and lights at the eight o'clock (evening) bell, and go to bed. In one place the sexton of a parish was required to lie in the church steeple, and at eight o'clock every night to ring the curfew for a quarter of an hour. The curfew-bell is still rung at Burnley, Colne, Blackburn, Padiham, and indeed in most of the older towns and many of the villages of Lancashire. It has nearly lost its ancient name, and is a remarkable instance of the persistence of an old custom or usage, long after all its significance or value has ceased. It is now merely called "the eight o'clock bell." A morning bell, rung anciently at four, now more commonly at six o'clock, is also to be heard in Burnley and other places, and is called "the six o'clock bell." Of what maybe called "the vocal ghosts of bells" many stories might be told. Opposite the Cross-slack, on the sands near Blackpool, outat sea, once stood the church and cemetery of Kilgrimol, long since submerged. Many tales are told of benighted wanderers near this spot being terrified with the sound of bells pealing dismal chimes o'er the murmuring sea.[35]

Among the dim traces of an extinct worship of Bel, or Baal, the ancient sun-god, perceptible still among Celtic peoples, especially in Ireland and Scotland, are the three festival periods when fires are kindled on eminences in honour of the sun. TheBel, orBelus, the chief deity of the Babylonians and the Assyrians, seems to have been identical with theBaalof the Phœnicians and Carthaginians. The ChaldeeBeland the HebrewBaalalike mean "Lord;" and under these names worship was paid by the old Asiatics to the sun, whose light and heat-giving properties were typified by fires kindled on the tops of high hills. In parts of Lancashire, especially in the Fylde, these traces of a heathen cult still linger. "From the great heaps of stones on eminences, called Cairns, from the Toot-hills (i.e., the hills dedicated to the worship of the Celtic god, Tot, or Teut, or Teutates, the same with the Egyptian Thoth), and the Belenian eminences, whereon was worshipped Bel, or Belus, or Belenus, the sun-god; from these three kinds of heights the grand sacred fires of theBel-Tineflamed thrice a year, at three of the great festivals of the Druids, in honour of Beal, or the Sun—viz., on the eve of May-day, on Midsummer Eve, and on the eve of the 1st November. Two such fires were kindled by one another on May-day Eve in every villageof the nation, as well throughout all Gaul as in Britain, Ireland, and the outlying lesser islands, between which fires the men and the beasts to be sacrificed were to pass; from whence came the proverb, 'Between Bel's two fires,' meaning one in a great strait, not knowing how to extricate himself. One of the fires was on the cairn, and the other on the ground. On the eve of the 1st of November all the people, out of a religious persuasion instilled into them by the Druids, extinguished their fires. Then every master of a family was religiously obliged to take home a portion of the consecrated fire, and to kindle the fire anew in his house, which for the ensuing year was to be lucky and prosperous. Any man who had not paid all his last year's dues to the Druids was neither to have a spark of this holy fire from the cairns, nor dared any of his neighbours let him take the benefit of theirs, under pain of excommunication; which, as managed by the Druids, was worse than death. If, therefore, he would live the winter out, he must pay the Druids' dues by the last day of October. The Midsummer fires and sacrifices were to obtain a blessing on the fruits of the earth, now becoming ready for gathering; as those on the 1st of May, that they might prosperously grow; and those on the last of October were a thanksgiving for finishing their harvest. But in all of them regard was had to the several degrees of increase and decrease in the heat of the sun. At the cairn fires it was customary for the lord of the place, or his son, or some other person of distinction, to take the entrails of the sacrificed animal into his hands, and walking bare-foot over the coals thrice, after the flames had ceased, to carry them to the Druid, who waited in a whole skin at the altar. If the fire-treader escaped harmless, it was reckoned a good omen, and welcomed with loud acclamations; but if he received any hurt, it was deemedunlucky both to the community and to himself."[36]In Ireland, May-day is calledla na Beal tina, and its eve,neen na Beal tina—i.e., the day and eve of Beal's fire, from its having been in heathen times consecrated to the god Beal, or Belus. The ceremony practised on May-day Eve, of making the cows leap over lighted straw or faggots, has been generally traced to the worship of this deity.[37]

The Irish have ever been worshippers of fire and of Baal, and are so to this day. The chief festival in honour of the sun and fire is upon the 21st [24th] June, when the sun arrives at the summer solstice, or rather begins its retrograde motion. "At the house where I was entertained, in the summer of 1782, it was told me that we should see at midnight the most singular sight in Ireland, which wasthe lighting of fires in honour of the sun. Accordingly, exactly at midnight, the fires began to appear; and, going up to the leads of the house, which had a widely-extended view, I saw, on a radius of thirty miles all around, the fires burning on every eminence. I learned from undoubted authority that the people danced round the fires, and at the close went through these fires, and made their sons and daughters, together with their cattle, pass the fire; and the whole was conducted with religious solemnity."[38]Bonfires are still made on Midsummer Eve in the northern parts of England and in Wales. The 1st of November was considered among the ancient Welsh as the conclusion of summer, and was celebrated with bonfires, accompanied with ceremonies suitable to these events, and some parts of Wales still retain these customs. Dr. Jamieson, in hisDictionary of the Scottish Language, mentions a festival calledBeltaneorBeltein, annually held in Scotland on Old May Day (May 13th). A town in Perthshire is calledTillee Beltein—i.e., the eminence or high place of the fire of Baal. Near it are two Druidical Temples of upright stones, with a well adjacent to one of them, still held in great veneration for its sanctity. The doctor describes the drawing of bits of a cake, one part of which is made perfectly black with charcoal, and he who draws the black bit is considered as "devoted to Baal, and is obliged to leap three times through the flame." Pennant, in hisTour in Scotland, gives a like account, with other ceremonies. The custom existed in the Isle of Man on the eve of the 1st of May, of lightingtwofires on a hill-top, in honour of the pagan god Baal, and of driving cattle between those fires, as an antidote against murrain or any pestilent distemper for the year following. It was also customary to light these fires on St. John's Eve (June 23rd), and up to the present time a stranger is surprised to see on this day, as evening approaches, fires springing up in all directions around him, accompanied with the blowing of horns and other rejoicings.[39]Macpherson notices theBelteinceremonies in Ireland, and adds, "Beltein is also observed in Lancashire." On Horwich Moor are two heaps of stones, or cairns, which are called by the country people "The Wilder Lads." It is believed that on May Day Eve the Druids made prodigious fires on cairns, situated as these are, on lofty eminences, which being every one in sight of some other like fire, symbolized a universal celebration. These fires were in honour ofBeal, orBealan, latinized intoBelenus, by which name the Gauls and their colonies denoted the sun; and to this time the first day of May is by the Irish calledLa Bealtine, or the Day of Belen's Fire.It bears a like name among the Highlanders of Scotland, and in the Isle of Man.[40]

The last evening in October was called the "Teanlay Night," or "The Fast of All Souls." At the close of that day, till of late years, the hills which encircle the Fylde shone brightly with many a bonfire; the mosses of Marton, &c., rivalling them with their fires, kindled for the avowed object of succouring their friends, whose souls were supposed to be detained in purgatory. A field near Poulton in which the mummery of the "Teanlay" was once celebrated (a circle of men standing with bundles of straw, raised on high with forks), is named "Purgatory" by the old inhabitants. Formerly this custom was not confined to one village or town of the Fylde district, but was generally practised as a sacred ceremony.[41]

What is a Boggart? A sort of ghost or sprite. But what is the meaning of the word Boggart? Brand says that "in the northern parts of England, ghost is pronouncedgheistandguest. Hencebar-guest, orbar-gheist. Many streets are haunted by a guest, who assumes many strange appearances, as a mastiff-dog, &c. It is a corruption of the Anglo-Saxongast, spiritus, anima." Brand might have added thatbaris a term for gate in the north, and that all the gates of York are named "bars," so that abar-gheistis literally a gate-ghost; and many are the tales of strange appearances suddenly seen perched on the top of a gate or fence, whence they sometimes leaped upon the shoulders of the scared passenger. Drake, in hisEboracum, says (Appendix, p. 7), "I have been so frightened with stories of thebarguestwhen I was a child, that I cannot help throwing away an etymology upon it. I suppose it comes from Anglo-Saxonburh, a town, andgast, a ghost, and so signifies a town sprite. N.B.—Guestis in the Belgic and Teutonic softened intogheistandgeyst." The "Boggart Hole" therefore means the hollow haunted by the bar-gheist or gate-ghost.

"Not far from the little snug, smoky village of Blakeley or Blackley, there lies one of the most romantic of dells, rejoicing in a state of singular seclusion, and in the oddest of Lancashire names, to wit, the 'Boggart Hole.' [In the present generation, by pleonasm, the place is named 'Boggart Hole Clough.'] Rich in every requisite for picturesque beauty and poetical association, it is impossible for me (who am neither a painter nor a poet) to describe this dell as it should be described; and I will, therefore, only beg of thee, gentle reader, who, peradventure, mayst not have lingered in this classical neighbourhood, to fancy a deep, deep, dell, its steep sides fringed down with hazel, and beech, and fern, and thick undergrowth, and clothed at the bottom with the richest and greenest sward in the world. You descend, clinging to the trees, and scrambling as best you may, and now you stand on haunted ground! Tread softly, for this is the Boggart's Clough, and see, in yonder dark corner, and beneath the projecting mossy stone, where that dusky sullen cave yawns before us, like a bit of Salvator's best, there lurks that strange elf, the sly and mischievous Boggart. Bounce! I see him coming; oh no, it was only a hare bounding from her form; thereit goes—there!"—Such is the introduction to a tale of a boggart, told by Crofton Croker, in Roby'sTraditions of Lancashire; but which, if memory serve us faithfully, is but a localized version of a story told of an Irish sprite, and also of a Scotch brownie; for in all three tales when the farmer and his family are "flitting" in order to get away from the nocturnal disturbance, the sprite pops up his head from the cart, exclaiming, "Ay, neighbour, we're flitting!" Tradition, which has preserved the name of the clough selected by the Lancashire boggart for his domicile, has failed to record any particular pranks of this individual elf, and we can only notice this charming little clough, as conveying by its popular name the only remaining vestige of its lost traditions. Perhaps the best story of this clough is that graphically told by Bamford[42]of three friends seeking by a charm (consisting in gathering three grains of St. John's fern seed there), to win for one of them the love of a damsel who was indifferent to him.

There is scarcely an old house, or hall, of any antiquity in Lancashire, that cannot boast of that proud distinction over the houses of yesterday, a ghost or boggart.Radcliffe Towerwas haunted by a black dog; perhaps in commemoration of the Fair Ellen of Radcliffe, who, by order of her stepmother, was murdered by the master cook, and cut up small, and of her flesh a venison pasty made for her father's dinner!

Smithells Hall, near Bolton, was formerly haunted by the ghost of the martyr George Marsh, whose stamped footstep indenting a flagstone, is still shown there.

Ince Hallstands about a mile from Wigan, on the left-hand of the high road to Bolton. It is a very conspicuous object, its ancient and well-preserved front—one of those black and white half-timbered façades now almost confined to the two counties palatine of Lancashire and Cheshire—generally attracting the notice and inquiry of travellers. About a mile to the south-east stands another place of the same name, once belonging to the Gerards of Bryn. The manor is now the property of Charles Walmsley, Esq., of Westwood, near Wigan. The two mansionsInce HallandInce Manor House, are sometimes confounded together in topographical inquiries; and it is not now certain to which of them properly belongs a tradition about a forged will and a ghost, on which Mr. Roby has founded a very graphic story, in hisTraditions of Lancashire. There are the Boggart ofClegg Hall, near Rochdale; theClayton HallBoggart, Droylsden; theClock HouseBoggart, in the same neighbourhood; theThackergateBoggart, near Alderdale; and many others: indeed they are too numerous for us to attempt a full enumeration. Mr. Higson observes[43]that few sombre or out-of-the-way places, retired nooks and corners, or sequestered by-paths, escaped the reputation of being haunted. Many domiciles had their presiding boggart, andfeeorin'[fairies] swarmed at every turn of the dark old lanes, and arch-boggarts held revel at every "three-road-end." After dusk, each rustle of the leaves, or sigh of the night wind through the branches, to the timid wayfarer heralded the instant and unceremonious appearance of old wizards and witches, "Nut Nans," and "Clapcans," or the terrific exploits of headless trunks, alias "men beawt yeds," or other traditionary "sperrits," hobgoblins, and sprites,or the startling semblances of black dogs, phantoms, and other indescribable apparitions. Aqueous nymphs ornixies, yclept "Grindylow," and "Jenny Green Teeth," lurked at the bottom of pits, and with their long, sinewy arms dragged in and drowned children who ventured too near. On autumnal evenings, the flickering flame (carburetted hydrogen, spontaneously ignited) of the "Corpse Candle," "Will-o'-th'-Wisp," or "Jack" or "Peg-a-Lantern" (for the sex was not clearly ascertained), performed his or her fantastic and impossible jumps in the plashy meadows near Edge Lane, to the terror of many a simple-minded rustic. Fairies, also, were believed to commit many depredations; such as eating the children's porridge, nocturnally riding out the horses, loosing the cows in the shippon, or churning the milk whilst "calving," by the fireside, and stealing the butter; and hence, behind many a door, as yet observable in Clayton, both of dwelling and shippon, was carefully nailed a worn horse-shoe, believed to be a potent counter-charm or talisman against their freaks and fancies. There were certain localities in the township of Droylsden notorious as the rendezvous or favourite promenades of boggarts and feeorin', which after nightfall few persons could muster pluck sufficient to linger in, or even pass by, for—

"Grey superstition's whisper dread,Debarr'd the spot to vulgar tread."

Manifestly pre-eminent was "th' owd Green Lone," which "Jem Hill, th' king o' Dreighlesdin," used to assert "swaarmt wi' fairees, witches, un' boggerts, un' which nob'dy could mester bur hissel'." The boggart located at Thackergate, near Alderdale, has well-nigh scared many a sober person out of his senses. Herds of four-footed boggarts used to issue from a pit at East End, in form resembling"great big dhogs, wi' great glarin' een, as big as tay-cups." The boggart at the croft-tenter's lodge (South) Clock-house, as fancy dictated, stalked through the chamber and stripped the bedclothes off the sleepers; or, assuming gigantic proportions and snow-white vestments, perched in the solemn yew-tree, a startling object by contrast. At last, being exorcised by an array of divines, it waslaidfor a time, beneath its favourite tree. A field-path from Fairfield to Ashton Hill-lane was nightly traversed by a being of another world, mostly representing a shadowy lady, draped according to whim, either in a loose white robe, or in rustling black silk. For a certain distance she glided in advance of the pedestrian, and then, by suddenly vanishing, most likely left his hair standing on end. At one of the Greenside farms a murder was said to have been committed in the shippon; and the exact spot was supposed to be indicated by the impossibility of securely fastening a cow in one particular boose; for, however carefully its occupant was chained overnight, next morning she was sure to be found at large, and once was actually discovered on the shippon balks. Thither, it was believed, the cow had been carried by supernatural agency; but, be that as it may, it was necessary to lower her cautiously down, with the aid of ropes and blocks. At a cottage adjoining, a boggart varied its amusements by drumming on the old oaken chest, still preserved; or, growing emboldened, shook the hangings of the bed, or rustled amongst the clothes; the alarmed occupants sometimes in despair rolling up the coverlet, and unavailingly whirling it at their invisible tormentor. At a neighbouring farm-house, amongst other vagaries, the boggart would snatch up the infant, whilst asleep between its parents, and, without awakening them, would harmlessly deposit it on the hearthstone, downstairs. "ClaytonHo'" [Hall] was of course honoured with a boggart, which at dead of night diversified its pranks by snatching the clothes from the beds, trailing heavy iron weights on the floors, or rattling ponderous chains through the crazy apartments. These pranks becoming insufferable, the help of a clergyman from the parish church was obtained; and fortunately, with the aid of counter-spells and incantations, he succeeded inlayingthe spirit for ever, declaring that,

"Whilst ivy climbs and holly is green,Clayton Hall Boggart shall no more be seen."

Even yet one room in the mansion is named "the Bloody Chamber," from some supposed stains of human gore on the oaken floor planks; which, however, in reality are only natural red tinges of the wood, denoting the presence of iron. Even since the formation of the new road, J. W——, the last of the ancient race of boggart-seers in the township, used to combat with feeorin' between East End and Droylsden toll-gate; but as he died a few years ago without bequeathing his gift, he (happily) carried with him his mantle to the grave. At a period just within memory, oft, after sunset, has the weary and tardy pedestrian quickened his speed on approaching some lonely place, by remembering how its tutelar spirit or Boggart could assume at will the shape of a rabbit, dog, bear, or still more fearful form. On its appearance, of course, the wayfarer fled in affright, and from fear and unwonted exertion, often reached home utterly exhausted. Next day the story would be widely circulated through the thinly populated district, detailing at length (and of course gathering minuteness and improvement in its transmission), how "Owd Yethurt o' Grunsho," or "Lung Tum woife," "th' neet afore wur welly ta'en by a great black Boggart, wi' great lung hurms, un' a whiskin' tail,un' yure as black as soot, un' rowlin' e'en as big as saucers." The decadence of all these old superstitions is to be attributed to a variety of causes. Straight, well-paved roads; increased intellectual activity in useful channels, informing the minds of one locality with the ideas of another, the publication of scientific works; and lastly, according to one aged unbeliever, the introduction of "Owd Ned [the steam-engine], un' lung chimblies; fact'ry folk havin' summat else t'mind nur wanderin' ghosts un' rollickin' sperrits." The same authority archly declared as a clincher, "There's no Boggarts neaw, un' iv ther' were, folk han grown so wacken, they'd soon catch 'em."[44]

These humbler classes of boggarts are by turns both useful and troublesome to the farmers of the district where they choose to reside. Syke Lumb Farm, near Blackburn, is reputed to be still visited by one of these anomalous beings, and many of his mad pranks are still talked of and believed in the neighbourhood. When in a good humour, this noted goblin will milk the cows, pull the hay, fodder the cattle, harness the horses, load the carts, and stack the crops. When irritated by the utterance of some unguarded expression or mark of disrespect, either from the farmer or his servants, the cream-mugs are smashed to atoms; no butter can be obtained by churning; the horses and other cattle are turned loose or driven into the woods; two cows will sometimes be found fastened in the same stall; no hay can be pulled from the mow; and all the while the wicked imp sits grinning with delight upon one of the cross-beams in the barn. Atother times the horses are unable to draw the empty carts across the farm-yard; if loaded, they are upset; whilst the cattle tremble with fear, not at any visible cause. Nor do the inmates of the house experience any better or gentler usage. During the night the clothes are said to be violently torn from off the beds of the offending parties, whilst invisible hands drag these individuals down the stone stairs by the legs, one step at a time, after a more uncomfortable manner than we need describe. Hothershall Hall, near Ribchester, was formerly the scene of similar exploits; but the goblin is understood to have been "laid" under the roots of a large laurel tree at the end of the house, and will not be able to molest the family so long as the tree exists. It is a common opinion in that part of the country that the roots have to be moistened with milk on certain occasions, in order to prolong its existence, and also to preserve the power of the spell under which the goblin is laid. None but the Roman Catholic priesthood are supposed to have the power of "laying an evil spirit," and hence they have always the honour to be cited in our local legends. Sometimes, too, they have the credit of outwitting the goblins; and many an old farm residence has the reputation of having thus been freed from these imps of darkness till they can spin a rope from the sands of the Ribble. The mansion at Towneley does not escape the imputation of having its "Boggart," although its visits are now limited to once in seven years, when its thirst for vengeance has to be satisfied by the untimely death of one of the residents at the Hall. A Sir John Towneley is supposed to have injured the poor of the district, nearly four hundred years ago, by "laying-in" a considerable portion of common to his park, and, as a punishment for this offence, his soul is said to haunt the scenes of his oppression. The peasantry still aver "that the oldknight's spirit, being unable to rest, wanders about the mansion, and may be heard over the very parts taken in, crying, in most piteous tones—

"Be warned! Lay out! Be warned! Lay out!Around Hore-law and Hollin-hey clough:To her children give back the widow's cot,For you and yours there is still enough."[45]

The popular story of "The Boggart Flitting" is common to both Lancashire and Yorkshire; and indeed to most of the nations in the North of Europe.

Of boggarts the Rev. William Thornber observes,[46]that there were several different kinds, having their haunts in that part of the Fylde near Blackpool; as, for instance, the wandering ghost of the homicide or the suicide; that of the steward of injustice, or that of the victim of a cruel murder; again, the lubber-fiends, the horse-boggarts, and the house-boggarts, or industrious, yet mischievous imps, haunting dwellings. He names, "The headless Boggart of White-gate Lane," as a sample of the first class. So was "The Boggart of Staining Hall," near Blackpool, said to be the wandering ghost of a Scotchman who was murdered there near a tree, which has since marked the deed by perfuming the soil around with a sweet odour of thyme. Of another kind were those whose appearance was the forerunner of death in some families. The Walmsleys, of Poulton-le-Fylde, he adds, were haunted by a boggart of this description, always making its appearance with alarming noises before the decease of one of the family.

Of the lubber-fiends, house-boggarts, or brownies, sostrikingly described by Milton,[47]Mr. Thornber mentions the ancient one of Rayscar and Inskip, which at times kindly housed the grain, collected the horses, and got them ready for the market; but at other times played the most mischievous pranks. The famous "Boggart of Hackensall Hall" had the appearance of a huge horse, which was very industrious if treated with kindness. Every night it was indulged with a fire, before which it was frequently seen reclining; and when deprived of this indulgence by neglect, it expressed its anger by fearful outcries.

The following story is told and believed by some persons in Hornby. The Park Mistress may be supposed to be the ghost of Lady Harrington, who committed murder three hundred years ago. Margaret Brackin was born in 1745, and died in 1795. The dialect is that of the locality:—

"In days that oud folks tell on still,Meg Brackin went up Windy Bank;Shou lated kinlin' on the hill,Till owr t' Lake Mountains t' sun it sank.Nat lang at efter t' sun was set,And shou hed fill'd her brat wi' sticks,Shou sid aside at t' Park wood yett,A woman stan'in mang the wicks.T' leaves on t' trees, they owm'ered t' land,And fadin' was the summer light,When Marget sid that woman standDonn'd like a ghoost o' oor i' white.Marget was fear'd, but spak and ex'd,'Hey Missis! let me gang wi' ye,I hope as that ye'll nut be vext,But it is gitten dark and dree.'T' Park Mistress e'en shin'd o' wi' leet;Shou whyatly cam te Marget's side;T' gerss didn't bend underneath her feet;Shou seem'd in t' air te float and glide.As soon's shou cam whare Marget stood,Shou gript a tight houd on her hand;Shou led her first intul t' Park wood,Then back and forret o' owr t' land.They kept na road, they kept na path,They went thro' brackins, scrogs, and briar,Marget shou soon was out of breath,But t' lady didn't seem te tire.They baath com down te Wenning's brink,And Marget's throat was dry wi' dread,But shou dursn't ex te stop and drink,Saa forret still that woman led.Owr shillar and rough staans they trod,Intu t' Wenning, then out fra t' stream;Surlie their walkin' wasn't snod,T' way they travell'd was naan saa weam.Marget lous'd t' strings of her brat,And trail'd it gerss and bushes through,Till deg'd and damp and wet it gat;Then suck'd it out for t' cooling dew.Fra Weaver's Ayr they went up t' wood,Now gaain' straight and then aslant,They niver stopt, they niver stood,But raac'd up t' brow saa rough and brant.Marget could niver gradely sayWhere nesht wi' t' ghoost shou went that neet;On Windy Bank, when it was day,They fun' her liggin, spent wi' freet.Marget hed been stout and throddy,But t' walk she tuk that summer neet,Left lile fatness on her body;At efter shou was thin and leet."

"In days that oud folks tell on still,Meg Brackin went up Windy Bank;Shou lated kinlin' on the hill,Till owr t' Lake Mountains t' sun it sank.

Nat lang at efter t' sun was set,And shou hed fill'd her brat wi' sticks,Shou sid aside at t' Park wood yett,A woman stan'in mang the wicks.

T' leaves on t' trees, they owm'ered t' land,And fadin' was the summer light,When Marget sid that woman standDonn'd like a ghoost o' oor i' white.

Marget was fear'd, but spak and ex'd,'Hey Missis! let me gang wi' ye,I hope as that ye'll nut be vext,But it is gitten dark and dree.'

T' Park Mistress e'en shin'd o' wi' leet;Shou whyatly cam te Marget's side;T' gerss didn't bend underneath her feet;Shou seem'd in t' air te float and glide.

As soon's shou cam whare Marget stood,Shou gript a tight houd on her hand;Shou led her first intul t' Park wood,Then back and forret o' owr t' land.

They kept na road, they kept na path,They went thro' brackins, scrogs, and briar,Marget shou soon was out of breath,But t' lady didn't seem te tire.

They baath com down te Wenning's brink,And Marget's throat was dry wi' dread,But shou dursn't ex te stop and drink,Saa forret still that woman led.

Owr shillar and rough staans they trod,Intu t' Wenning, then out fra t' stream;Surlie their walkin' wasn't snod,T' way they travell'd was naan saa weam.

Marget lous'd t' strings of her brat,And trail'd it gerss and bushes through,Till deg'd and damp and wet it gat;Then suck'd it out for t' cooling dew.

Fra Weaver's Ayr they went up t' wood,Now gaain' straight and then aslant,They niver stopt, they niver stood,But raac'd up t' brow saa rough and brant.

Marget could niver gradely sayWhere nesht wi' t' ghoost shou went that neet;On Windy Bank, when it was day,They fun' her liggin, spent wi' freet.

Marget hed been stout and throddy,But t' walk she tuk that summer neet,Left lile fatness on her body;At efter shou was thin and leet."

Having fallen into conversation with a working man on our road to Holme Chapel, we asked him if people in those parts were now ever annoyed by beings of another world. Affecting theesprit fort, he boldly answered, "Noa! the country's too full o' folk;" while his whole manner, and especially his countenance, as plainly said "Yes!" A boy who stood near was more honest. "O, yes!" he exclaimed, turning pale; "the Boggart has driven William Clarke out of his house; he flitted last Friday." "Why," I asked; "what did the Boggart do?" "O, he wouldn't let 'em sleep; he stripp'd off the clothes." "Was that all?" "I canna' say," answered the lad, in a tone which showed he was afraid to repeat all he had heard; "but they're gone, and the house is empty. You can go and see for yoursel', if you loike. Will's a plasterer, and the house is in Burnley Wood, on Brown Hills."[48]

Edwin Waugh, in his story of "The Grave of Grislehurst Boggart,"[49]says, the most notable boggart of the hilly district towards Blackstone Edge, was the Clegg Ho' Boggart, still the theme of many a winter's tale amongthe people of the hills above Clegg Hall. The proverb, "Aw 'm heere agen, like Clegg Ho' Boggart," is common there, and in all the surrounding villages.... Boggarts appear, however, to have been more numerous than they are now upon the country side, when working people wove what was called "one lamb's wool" in a day; but when it came to pass that they had to weave "three lambs' wools" in a day, and the cotton trade arose, boggarts, and fairies, and feeorin' of all kinds, began to flee away from the clatter of shuttles. As to the Grislehurst Boggart, here is part of the story as told to Waugh, or by him:—"Whau it isn't aboon a fortnit sin' th' farmer's wife at the end theer yerd seed summat i' th' dyhed time o' th' neet; an' hoo war welly thrut eawt o' bed, too, besides—so then" ... "Th' pranks 'at it's played abeawt this plaze at time an' time, 'ud flay ony wick soul to yer tell on ... unyawkin' th' byes, an' turnin' carts an' things o'er i' th' deep neet time; an' shiftin' stuff up and deawn th' heawse when folk are i' bed; it's rayther flaysome yo may depend."

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