GOOD FRIDAY

"Neither sleep, neither lie,For Inkbro's ting-tangs hang so nigh."

Many years ago the twelve parish churches in Jersey each possessed a beautiful and valuable peal of bells; but during a long civil war, the states determined on selling these bells to defray the heavy expenses of their army. The bells were accordingly collected and sent to France for that purpose;but, on the passage, the ship foundered, and everything was lost, to show the wrath of Heaven at the sacrilege. Since then, before a storm, these bells ring up from the deep; and to this day the fishermen of St. Ouen's Bay always go to the edge of the water before embarking, to listen if they can hear "the bells upon the wind;" and, if those warning notes are heard, nothing will induce them to leave the shore; if all is quiet they fearlessly set sail. As a gentleman, who has versified the legend, says:

"'Tis an omen of death to the mariner,Who wearily fights with the sea,For the foaming surge is his winding sheet,And his funeral knell are we:His funeral knell our passing bell,And his winding sheet the sea."

is the occasion of great superstition. It is believed that anything planted on that day will prosper, and that if the seeds of the stock are sown in the evening, as the sun goes down, the flowers will be sure to come double. Hot-cross buns, or other bread made on a Good Friday, are supposed never to grow mouldy, and if kept for twelve months and then grated into some liquor, will prove a great soother of the stomach-ache; acorns dried and grated will have the same effect. The origin of the buns was the consecrated loaf made from the dough, whence the host itself was formerly taken and given by the priests to the people; they were marked with the cross, as our Good Friday buns are. The superstitious frequently preserved Good Friday buns from year to year, from the belief of their efficacy in the cure of diseases. And Poor Robin, in his Almanack for 1753, says:

"Whose virtue is, if you'll believe what's said,They'll not grow mouldy like the common bread."

The poorer people of Offenham will by no means allow any washing to be about on a Good Friday, which would be considered the forerunner of much ill-luck. At Cutnal Green it is thought that if you do not empty your lie tub on Good Friday, you will have bad luck in the ensuing year.

In many places in this county, when the master of a family dies, the old nurse goes to the hive of bees, knocks, and says:

"The master's dead, but don't you go;Your mistress will be a good mistress to you."

A bit of black crape is then pinned to the hive. It is firmly believed that but for this precaution the bees would all desert the place. A correspondent at Pershore says: "While conversing with a farmer's wife in this neighbourhood, I was gravely informed that it was certainly the truth, unless the bees were 'told' when anybody died in the house, something would happen either to bees or honey before long. She considered it a great want of foresight not to go from the house in which the 'departed one' had breathed his or her last to the hive without delay, and 'tell the bees' what had happened." In some places the custom is to take the key of the front door to the hive and tap it gently, saying, "Bees, bees, your master (or mistress) is dead." The hives also are usually covered with crape. If a swarm of bees return to their old hive, it is believed that a death will happen in the family within the year. This superstition probably prevails nearly all over the kingdom, and is believed to be of great antiquity. In Oxfordshire, it is said that if a man and his wife quarrel, the bees will leave them. In Devonshire, the custom is (or was in the year 1790) to turn round the bee-hives that belonged to the deceased at themoment the corpse was being carried out of the house; and on one occasion, at the funeral of a rich old farmer at Collumpton, as a numerous procession was on the point of starting, a person called out, "Turn the bees;" upon which a servant, who had no knowledge of the custom, instead of turning the hives about, lifted them up, and then laid them down on their sides. The bees, thus invaded, quickly fastened on the attendants, and in a few moments the corpse was left quite alone, hats and wigs were lost in the confusion, and a long time elapsed before the sufferers returned to their duty.

are still believed in to a great extent among the poor. In the neighbourhood of Hartlebury they break the legs of a toad, sew it up in a bag alive, and tie it round the neck of the patient. There were lately some female charmers at Fladbury. The peasantry around Tenbury and Shrawley have also great faith in charms, and the toad remedy is applied at the former place, the life or death of the patient being supposed to be shadowed forth by the survival or death of the poor animal. At Mathon, old women are intrusted with the cure of burns by charming, which they do by repeating a certain number of times the old doggrel rhyme, beginningâ€”

"There were two angels came from the north," &c.

In the neighbourhood of Stoke Prior a charm was some time ago used by a labouring man for the removal of the thrush (or "throcks" as it is locally termed) in children: he would put his finger into his mouth, and then into that of the child, rubbing the gums, while he mumbled out something terminating with "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost," then put down the child without speaking another word, and leave the house without eating or drinking. Charming for the toothache isstill customary at Cutnall Green. The charm is written on paper, and sealed up, which the afflicted person carries about with him, and it is believed to be a sure cure. A "poke" or wart on the eye is "charmed away" by rubbing it with a wedding ring. Drinking out of a sacramental cup is considered a cure for the hooping cough. A pillow, filled with hops and laid under the patient's bed, is an undoubted cure for rheumatism. This charm was prescribed to George III by a physician at Reading, recommended by Lord Sidmouth, and administered to the royal patient accordingly.

The following lines are very generally taught to children in the rural districts, to say at night with their prayers:

"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,Bless the bed that I lie on;There are four corners to my bed,There are four angels round my head,One to watch, and one to pray,And two to carry my soul away."

was in old times an established institution. In 1666 the Chamberlain of the Worcester Corporation spent Â£10. 14s. in an entertainment to Mr. Gratrix, "an Irishman famous for helping and curing many lame and diseased people only by stroking of their maladies with his hand, and therefore sent for to this and many other places." Valentine Gratrixâ€”surnamed the Strokerâ€”was a great proficient and master of the art; and by a letter of his (still in existence) to the Archbishop of Dublin, it appears that he believed himself to be inspired by God for the purpose of curing this disease. He was entertained with great hospitality at many of our citizens' houses, and was thus fortunate in having a long start of the mesmerizers of the present day. The parishregister of Chaddesley Corbett contains a "Mem. That Nov. 24, 1685, a certificate was granted to Gervase Burford, to be touched for the King's evil;" and two years later King James II was at Worcester, and attended at the Cathedral for the purpose of touching persons affected with the evil. From the Worcestershire county records it appears that in 1688 one Susannah Rose petitioned the Court of Quarter Sessions on behalf of her brother, George Gilbert, a blacksmith, of Stourbridge, upon whose toes a hammer having fallen, had disabled him from work, and "after much suffering he was persuaded it was gone to the King's evil, went to London, and was touched by his Majesty, but afterwards was forced to go to a surgeon, at Rushock, under cure for above half-a-year, when he left him off, and would not let him be entertained in the parish any longer," and the poor petitioner being unable to provide for him, prays for his settlement at Bellbroughton, where he was born and apprenticed. In the parish records of St. Nicholas, it is stated that in 1711, one Walker, a pauper, was sent to London to be touched; and I believe that Dr. Johnson was touched by Queen Ann, as late as 1712. In the reign of Charles II a royal proclamation was issued stating the time when that monarch would touch persons afflicted with this disease. A broadside containing a printed copy of this proclamation still exists at Painswick, in Gloucestershire, in the possession of Mr. Gyde, the surgeon there. William of Malmesbury, who flourished in the twelfth century, alleges the origin of the Royal touch to have been on this wise: a young married woman, having some enormous glandular swellings on her neck, was admonished in a dream to have it washed by the King (Edward the Confessor). His Majesty readily fulfilled this labour of love by rubbing her neck with his fingers dipped in water, and before a week had expired, the tumour subsided and a fair new skin coveredthe affected part, so that a perfect cure was the resultâ€”and not only that, but the woman, who had been previously childless, in less than another year became the mother of twins, which (the sage chronicler gravely remarks) "greatly increased the admiration of Edward's holiness. Those who knew him more intimately affirm that he often cured this complaint in Normandy; whence appears how false is their notion who in our times assert that the cure of this disease does not proceed from personal sanctity but from hereditary virtue in the Royal line."

"A thousand fantasiesBegin to throng on my memory,Of calling shapes and beck'ning shadows dire,And aery tongues, that syllable men's namesOn sands and shores and desert wildernesses."

A lingering belief in witchcraft still remains among the most ignorant of our population, both rural and urban. Some particulars relative to the existence of this superstition in this county in the seventeenth century will be found among the county records in the early part of this volume. The law against witchcraft, passed in the time of James I, being very stringent, the driving out evil spirits, allaying of ghosts, and abjuring witches, became, for nearly a century, a profitable employment. Witch-finders existed as public officers; and beside the public executions which disgraced every assizes, multitudes of accused were destroyed by popular resentment, while others were drowned by the test applied, for if, on being thrown into the water, they did not sink, they were presumed witches, and either killed on the spot or reserved for burning at the assizes. In the year 1649, four persons were tried at Worcester for this supposed offence, and all were executed,two of them confessing their crime, viz.: Margaret Landis andSusan Cook; Rebecca West and Rose Holybred died obstinate. The custom at Worcester was to duck the accused in the Severn (Cooken Street, or "Cucken Street," as it is spelt in some old maps, being no doubt the line of route on these occasions).

Baxter, in his "World of Spirits," speaks of those men who told of things stolen and lost, and who showed the face of a thief in a glass, and caused the goods to be brought back, who were commonly called "white witches." "When I lived (he says) at Dudley, Hodges, at Sedgley, two miles off, was long and commonly accounted such a one; and when I lived at Kederminster, one of my neighbours affirmed that, having his yarn stolen, he went to Hodges, ten miles off, and he told him that at such an hour he should have it brought home again and put in at the window, and so it was; and as I remember he showed him the person's face in a glass. Yet I do not think that Hodges made any known contract with the devil, but thought it an effect of art."

About the year 1672 a prebend of Worcester (Joseph Glanville) seriously wrote a book, entitled, "Some considerations touching the being of Witches and Witchcraft," which engaged him in a controversy that lasted as long as his life. The statute 9th George II, chap. 5 (1736), at length repealed the disgraceful Witch Act, and stopped all legal prosecutions against persons charged with conjuration, sorcery, &c.; yet what has once taken so firm a hold of the popular mind is not to be so easily eradicated; and Dr. Nash, who wrote his "Worcestershire" towards the close of the last century, asserts that not many years previously a poor woman, who happened to be very ugly, was almost drowned in the neighbourhood of Worcester, upon a supposition of witchcraft; and had not Mr. Lygon, a gentleman of singular humanity and influence, interfered in her behalf, she would certainlyhave been drowned, upon a presumption that a witch could not sink. Later still, Mr. Allies informs us, that when the late Mr. Spooner kept a pack of hounds, whenever they passed through a certain field in Leigh Sinton, the hounds would invariably run after something which nobody could see, until they came to the cottage of an old woman named Cofield, when they would turn back again, the old witch having then got safely into her own "sanctum." The exploits of Mrs. Swan, of Kidderminster, who pretended to discover stolen property for everybody else except what she herself had lost, and who died in an awfully tempestuous night in November, 1850, when her cats so mysteriously disappeared, cannot yet be forgotten; nor the recent existence of "the wise man of Dudley," and many others of the same class, though not quite so celebrated, who are now living. Some of the Mathon people still believe that witchcraft makes their pigs waste away; and, when convinced of the fact, they kill the animal, and burn a part of the flesh, to prevent any ill effects to those who eat the remainder. Mr. Lees informs us of a pear tree in Wyre Forest, the fruit of which is even now hung up in the houses of the peasantry as a protection against witchcraft. The witch elm (Ulmus montana) was the one commonly employed for the purpose, as most easily attainable. That wasgood; the mountain ash or witten tree wasbetter; and the sorb tree or true service (Pyrus domestica) was thestrongestof all. Nine withes of witch hazel, banded together, is used as a rustic appliance to guard against witching influence. There is a place called "Witchery Hole," in Little Shelsley, concerning which, whenever a violent wind blows from the north, the people say, "The wind comes from Witchery Hole," insinuating that certain "broomstick hags" had something to do with raising the wind. For a baker to cross the flour before hecommences baking is regarded as a security against the witch entering the bread. The horse-shoe is still seen over doors, in many places, and fastened to bedsteads to keep witches away. At the Police Office, at Stourbridge, only a few months ago, a woman named Wassall charged a Mrs. Cartwright, a poor woman afflicted with paralysis, with threatening to do her some bodily injury. The defendant alleged that the affliction under which she was suffering was caused by the complainant, who had bewitched her; and that when she begged her to remove the spell, complainant told her it had been upon her for twelve weeks, and it should continue six weeks longer. Finding entreaties vain, the defendant made use of some idle threat, which led to the summons. A "charm" was shown to the Court, which the deluded creature had worn by the advice of a "wise" man to remove the spell; it was a small black silk bag, containing pieces cut out from the Prayer Book and Bible, and some hair, evidently from a cat's back. The Bench endeavoured to assuage the fears of the poor woman, and told her not to impute her affliction to the evil machinations of any one, at the same time severely lecturing the complainant for practising such deceit upon an ignorant and afflicted fellow-creature.

There were reputed witches at Malvern in the last generation; and at Colwall the common people are said even now to dislike peewits (lapwings) which visit that place, believing that their cry is "bewitch'd, bewitch'd;" and should any person capture one of these birds he is strongly recommended not to keep it for fear of misfortune or accident. Peewits are believed to be departed spirits who still haunt the earth in consequence of something that troubles them.

At Beoley, about half a century ago, the ghost of a reputed murderer managed to keep undisputed possession of a certain house, until a conclave of the clergy chained him to the bed of the Red Sea for fifty years. When that term was expired the ghost reappeared (two or three years ago), and more than ever frightened the natives of the said houseâ€”slamming the doors, and racing through the ceilings. The inmates, however, took heart, and chased him, by stamping on the floor from one room to another, under the impression that, could they once drive him to a trap-door opening into the cheese-room (for which, if the ghost happened to be a rat, he had a very naturalpenchant), he would disappear for a season. The beadle of the parish, who also combined with that office the scarcely less important one of pig-sticker, declared to the writer that he dared not go by the house now in the morning till the sun was up. (It was an ancient superstition that evil spirits flew away at cock-crowing.)

The Droitwich Canal, in passing through Salwarpe, is said to have cut off a slice of a large old half-timbered structure supposed to have been formerly a mansion-house; and in revenge for this act of mutilation, the ghost of a former occupier revisits his old haunts, affrights the domestics, and may be seen on dark nights, with deprecatory aspect, glide down the embankment, and suicidally commit himself to the waters below.

The Little Shelsley people will have it that the Court-house in that parish is haunted, and that a Lady Lightfoot, who was said to have been imprisoned and murdered in the house, comes at night and drives a carriage and four fiery horses round some old rooms that are unoccupied, and that her ladyship's screams are sometimes heard over the wholeCourt. She has likewise been seen to drive her team into the moat, when the whole disappeared, the water smoking like a furnace.

Many of the ancient manor-houses of Worcestershire have similar superstitions. At Huddington, there is an avenue of trees, called "Lady Winter's Walk," where the lady of Thomas Winter, who was obliged to conceal himself on account of the share he had in the Gunpowder Plot, was in the habit of awaiting her husband's furtive visits; and here the headless spectre of her ladyship is still seen occasionally pacing up and down beneath the sombre shade of those aged trees. A headless female also appears at Crowle brook, by which it would seem that the poor heart-broken lady sometimes extended her visits.

At Leigh, a spectre, known as "Old Coles," formerly appeared, and at dead of night, withvis insana, would drive a coach and four down a part of the road, dash over the great barn at Leigh Court, and then cool the fiery nostrils of his steeds in the waters of the Teme. Mr. Jabez Allies also records that this perturbed spirit was at length laid in a neighbouring pool by twelve parsons, at twelve at night, by the light of an inch of candle; and as he was not to rise again until the candle was quite burnt out, it was therefore thrown into the pool, and, to make all sure, the pool was filled upâ€”

"And peaceful ever after slept Old Coles's shade."

This Coles (as is recorded by Mr. Lees) was on intimate terms with a neighbour at Cradley, and being distressed for want of money, heard that his friend was going to Worcester to receive a large sum, and thereupon waylaid him on his return by night. Coles seized the bridle and threatened his friend's life; but the Cradley yeoman drew his swordand made a furious cut, which freed him at once from the robber, and he rapidly rode home; on his arrival there he found a bloody hand firmly grasping his horse's bridle, and one of the fingers bore the signet ring of his friend Coles. Next day he went to Leigh, and found Coles in bed; he acknowledged his crime, and begged for mercy, which was granted in consideration of his awful punishment.

At Astwood Court, once the seat of the Culpepers, was an old oak table, removed from the side of the wainscot in 1816, respecting which tradition declares that it bore the impress of the fingers of a lady ghost, who, probably tired of appearing to no purpose, at last struck the table in a rage, and vanished for ever; but the ghost was also in the habit of walking from the house to "the cloven pear-tree."

At Holt Castle, it was not long ago believed by the servants that a mysterious lady in black occasionally walked at dead of night in a certain passage near to the attics; and likewise that the cellar had been occupied by an ill-favoured bird like a raven, which would sometimes pounce upon any person who ventured to approach a cask for drink, and having extinguished the candle with a horrid flapping of wings, would leave its victim prostrated with fright. A similar legend prevails at Leigh Court. A solution has been given to this legend, however, which would imply a little cunning selfishness on the part of the domestics who had the care of the ale and cider depÃ´t.

A correspondent at Cutnall Green says that it is believed there that for a single female to sleep in a new pair of shoes and stockings is a sure means of her dreaming of her future husband; and for a female to sleep with a breast bone, knife and fork, and a plate, carefully put under her bolster, also is sure to make her dream of her lover.

Another informantâ€”a lady, who forgot to state the place of her residenceâ€”sends me the following: If a maiden wishes to know her future husband, let her on Midsummer Eve, at midnight, descend backwards from her bed-room to the garden, and, still walking backwards around it, and scattering hemp seed with her right hand as she goes, repeat these lines:

"Hemp seed I sowHemp seed is to mow,And the man that my husband is to be,Let him follow after and mow,"

when he will suddenly appear with a scythe in his hand, which, unless the poor damsel be particular in keeping her right hand stretched out, may prove a dangerous weapon. Also on Midsummer Eve, take two flowers called among the country people "Midsummer Men," and planting them in the thatch, repeat your own and sweetheart's name. Should they grow, a wedding is certain, but if not, the lovers will be parted. On All Saints, commonly called "All Hallows," let a young woman take a ball of new worsted, and holding the end in her fingers, throw the ball through the window (at midnight) saying, "Who holds?" the man who is to be her husband will pick up the worsted, mention his name, and disappear. On Christmas Eve, let three, five, or seven young girls take each a sprig of rosemary and place it in a bowl of water, putting the vessel in the centre of the room. Stretch a string across directly before it, hanging thereon a white garment of each person. They must then sit speechless until the witching hour of midnight, when each of their lovers will appear and take a piece of rosemary out of the basin, and mention his own name and his sweetheart's. When the first new moon in the year appears, she may go to the garden, and looking steadily at it, sayâ€”

"New moon, new moon,Tell unto meWhich of these three is my husband to be,"

mentioning the names of three young men, and curtseying to each one. When next she sees them, let her notice if they have their backs or faces towards her. The one who has his face towards her will be her husband. Hang a peapod containing nine peas over the doorway; the young man who passes under it first (not one of the family) will be the husband of the young woman who hangs it there. When a young girl receives a letter from her lover, let her pin it in nine folds and place it next her heart, on retiring to rest. If she dream of gold or jewellery, he is sincere in his professions; if not, let her beware. Take a ring and hang it upon one of your own hairs, hold it steadily over a wine glass half full of water, and wish to know how many years it will be before you are married. As many times as it hits against the side of the glass, so many years it will be before you are joined in holy wedlock.

If a girl pluck a rose on Midsummer Eve, and wear it on the succeeding Christmas Day, whatever single man takes it from her must marry her.

To ascertain whether a pretended lover is sincere, take an apple-pip, and naming one of your followers, put the pip on the fire: if it make a noise in bursting it is a proof of love; if there is no crack, it is a sign that he has no regard for you:

"If you love me, bounce and fly;If you hate me, lie and die."

Another charm consists in sticking pips upon the cheek, and naming several lovers, the truest being shown by that which remains longest.

Fingered leaves are supposed to have a magical character. If the terminating leaflets of the common ash areeven(they being usuallyodd) they bring "luck or a lover."

The herb Paris, a common plant in thick woods, has very frequently its four leaves multiplied into five or six, and thus generally gets the name oftrue love. So the common Cinquefoil, called "Five-leaved grass," from having its leaves in five digitated divisions, are made six or seven by accessory leaflets, and the following rhyme is repeated in rural places:

"Five-leaved grass, with six leaves on,Put it under your pillow, and you'll dream of your mon."

A powerful love-spell is produced by what is called the "Speechless hawthorn." In May or June a flowering branch of the hawthorn must be silently gathered in the evening, and the maiden gathering it must refrain from speech that night, as a single word spoken would break the spell. Hastening to bed as soon as possible, speechless she must place the hawthorn branch under her pillow, and then, in the visions of the night, the man whom fate has destined for her future husband will certainly present himself.

The common brake fern (Pteris aquilina), cut in two obliquely, shows the initial letters of a sweetheart's name.

Get a maiden egg, carefully break it, and fill half the shell with salt; then eat the salt as you go to bed, walking up stairs backwards, and backing into bed also; be sure and keep silence and you will dream of your lover: if he should offer a glass of water he will be a poor man; if a glass of wine, a gentleman.

On some Friday night go to bed, and put your shoes under your pillow, crossing the left shoe over the right, and sayâ€”

"On this blessed Friday nightI put my left shoe o'er my right,In hopes this night that I may seeThe man that shall my husband be,In his apparel and in his array,And in the clothes he wears every day;What he does and what he wears,And what he'll do all days and years;Whether I sleep or whether I wake,I hope to hear my true love speak."

Silence must be preserved till the morning, when the lover is expected to appear in a dream.

Another love spell is "the dumb cake." This cake must be made on New Year's Eve, and eaten in silence by a number of young girls; one of them must place a clean chemise, turned inside out, on a chair before the fire; this must be sprinkled with water by a branch of rosemary; all must then sit round the fire in silence till twelve o'clock. If any among the party wish to be married during the ensuing year, the form of her husband will approach the fire and turn the chemise.

Thelegends of Worcestershire, as of most other counties, are mainly traceable to middle-age ecclesiastical influences or to the popular ideas of the author of all evil. Some few are derived from an exaggerated recollection of historical facts, and a still smaller number have descended to us from pagan times. Of these, with others whose origin is buried in obscurity, I shall now proceed to give a sample.

Ribbesford church contains an ancient sculpture on thetympanum of its principal doorway, representing an archer, with a doe or some other animal near him, which he has apparently shot at, but missing his aim, the arrow passes through what some have supposed to be a salmon, others a seal or a beaver; and the legend is, that Robin of Horsehill, the ranger to the manor, went out to shoot a buck, but incontinently pierced a salmon in the river. It is probable, however, in accordance with the known custom of the Norman builders, that the sculpture is merely intended to represent the leading feature of the locality, where an abundance of game was to be procured, the occupants of the manor being bound to furnish sporting for the monks of Worcester. Mr. Lees says that only recently another sculpture has been discovered at this church which seems to establish the proof that they are symbolical in design.

In the sandstone blocks lying in Whelpley and Sapey brooks, on the borders of this county and Herefordshire, are indentations which are accounted for in this way. St. Katharine and her maid Mabel (who ultimately took up their abode at Ledbury in consequence of having heard the bells of that town ring of their own accord), while travelling, had their mare and colt stolen, upon which the saint prayed that wherever the animals and the thief trod, the marks of their feet might be left, as a means of tracing them. The thief, it seems, was a girl in pattens, who took the animals down several brooks to avoid detection, and hence the marks of patten-rings and horses' feet visible to this day. Science, however, cold-blooded and unfeeling, has declared, by the mouth of Messrs. Murchison and Buckland, that the cavities alluded to are void spaces from which concretions of marlstone and other matter have been worked out by the action of the water. It has been subsequently urged by other geologists that these indentations were old water-marks made on theshore when the consolidated "old red" was an ancient sea beach, that they were filled up with soft marly matter, which in modern times was washed away by the continued action of streams in flowing among the stones, and thus the simulated mare and colt's tracks became evident. Two of them, at a place called Jumper's Hole, are very conspicuous, but it is certain that they have been deepened year after year by the action of the water that covers them in time of flood. Between Clifton-on-Teme and Stanford Bishop the best specimens may be seen.

The legend of St. Werstan, the founder of an oratory at Great Malvern, was detailed by Mr. Albert Way in the Journal of the ArchÃ¦ological Institute, in 1845, and illustrations given from the ancient painted glass in the third window of the clerestory, north of the choir in Malvern Abbey church. The glass was probably executed towards the close of the fifteenth century, when a part of the structure was renovated. The first subject represents the hermit, under the guidance of angels, indicating the spot for the erection of an oratory, then the angels are seen dedicating the building, next is a figure of Edward the Confessor granting a charter, and lastly the saint is undergoing martyrdom at the hands of two executioners armed with swords, and the choristers or youths belonging to the establishment are being punished by similar tormentors. The series is highly curious, and seems unaccountably to have escaped notice before.

Our neighbours, the Danes, when they piratically infested this country and plundered and burnt so large a number of churches, were sometimes caughtin flagrante delicto, and their sacrilegious crimes were punished by flayingâ€”their skins being nailed on church doors, as a terror to all other evil doers. The late Dr. Prattinton, of Bewdley, in his Manuscripts now in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries, states that some old doors then in the crypt of Worcester Cathedral were covered with fragments of human skin said to have belonged to a man who had stolen the sanctus-bell from the high altar. Portions of this skin have been since examined microscopically by Mr. Quekett, of the Museum of the College of Surgeons, and pronounced decidedly to be human. I have myself examined some old doors in the crypt and found on them patches of a substance like leather, of which I have a specimen now in my possession; but if it ever belonged to a Dane it affords substantial proof that they could not have been a thin-skinned race.

Similar specimens have been discovered at Westminster Abbey, and the churches of Hadstock and Copford, Essex; and Pepys, in his Diary (1661) mentions having seen Danes' skins on the great doors of Rochester Cathedral.

Evesham Abbey is said to have derived its origin from the same means which have been assigned to many other religious establishmentsâ€”namely, supernatural interposition. Eoves, a swineherd, was attending his pigs in the forest on the site of which Evesham now stands, when the Virgin appeared to him in a vision, which he communicated to his master, the Bishop of Worcester. The Bishop repaired to the place, and saw a repetition of the vision, the Virgin enjoining him not only to erect a monastery on that spot but to prepare an image of herself, which was to be worshipped at Worcester. This prelate, in atonement for the sins of himself and the people, bound himself with chains, locked them together, and threw the key into the Avon, declaring that nothing but Divine interposition should loose his chains. Then he undertook a pilgrimage to Rome, where his servant, purchasing a fish for dinner, found in it the key which had been thrown away; and so they returned triumphantly to Evesham.

St. Kenelm's chapel, on the Clent Hill, near Stourbridge,has also its legend. Kenulph, King of Mercia, who died in 819, left his young son Kenelm under the protection of his sister Quendreda, who, however, being ambitious for the throne, procured her lover, Askobert, to take the youth out hunting, and there, in a secluded valley, he cut off his head, and buried him. However, a dove dropped a scroll on the high altar at Rome, whereon was written a couplet giving information of the murder:

"In Clent Coubath, Kenelm, kinbarne,Ly'th under thorne, heaued bereaved."

The lovers accordingly met with their desert, the murdered King was canonized, and on the spot of his murder a chapel was erected, and a spring of holy water burst forth which for many centuries proved an undoubted specific for sore legs and eyes, and a tolerably good source of emolument to the ecclesiastics.

The old church of St. Clement's, Worcester, stood on the eastern side of the Severn, close to the city wall; and the legend says, that it was begun to be built on the side of the river where the parish lies, but that angels, by night, took away the stones to the place where the church was afterwards erected. Modifications of this old tale, as also of the following, may be met with in almost every town. The original spire of St. Andrew's church is said to have been erected by a wealthy individual, out of gratitude for having, on a certain foggy night, been preserved from walking into the Severn, in consequence of hearing St. Andrew's bells suddenly strike out.

It is a curious circumstance that while the vulgar mind has been at all times prone to attribute extraordinary or unaccountable results to Satanic influences, and to regard the evil one as the very essence of craft and cunning, a tendency has always been apparent to reduce his pretensions as a prudentor successful bargain-maker, especially in those instances wherein he was supposed to have come in contact with ecclesiastical antagonism, and he is almost invariably shown up in popular legends as being outwitted and frustrated in his diabolical designs, not less by expedients of the most simple kind, than by evasions as transparent as they are dishonest. We are told by Dr. Adam Clarke that Satan is far from excelling in knowledge, being more cunning and insidious than wise and prudent, and that we in general give this fallen spirit credit for much more wisdom than he possesses; an estimate of character which cannot be far from correct, if the following recollections of his doings in Worcestershire may be relied on: On the north boundary wall of Bromsgrove churchyard lies an old stone effigy of a man in the attitude of prayer, and it is said that the original of this figure sold himself to the wicked one for certain stipulations, one of which was, that when he died, he should not be buried either in or out of the churchyard; and the man accordingly gave directions to be buried under the boundary wall, and the effigy to be placed above it. This was a similar trick to that of the teetotaller, who, having taken the pledge not to drink liquors in or out of his house, compromised the matter to his own conscience by striding across the threshold and draining a jug to the bottom.

So the people of Bewdley were once saved from destruction by a drunken cobbler, who foregather'd with the man of sin, as the latter was travelling with a spadeful of earth to dam up the Severn, and thereby inundate the country. The devil had lost his way, and inquired of the cobbler, who, smelling sulphur, and foreseeing annihilation to all his customers at Bewdley, coolly assured the father of lies that the distance to that town was so great that he had worn out a whole lot of shoes he carried in a bag at his back. Whereupon the fallen spirit at once dropped the earth, and thereremains to this day the hill called "The Devil's Spadeful," or "Spittleful." A similar legend prevails in many counties, especially in reference to the Wrekin and High Ercall Hills, Shropshire, and "Robin Hood's Butts," Herefordshire.

Near Little Shelsley grows a plant called "Devil's-bit" (Succisa pratensis), which it is said was given to heal any deadly wounds, but as the devil saw how many wicked persons were thus rescued from his grasp, he bit the roots off this plant, whereupon it miraculously grew without them, and follows up the habit to this day.

In Bretforton church is the legend of "Maid Margaret" carved on one of the north pillars. It is said that a nun, being tempted by the devil, resisted, and was devoured by him, whereupon the holy sister, who always went armed with a cross, used it with such effect, that the evil one burst asunder, and she emerged.

Oliver Cromwell's compact with the devil, before the battle of Worcester, has been a favourite fable probably ever since the restoration of Charles II. Echard, the rev. historian, condescends to propagate the fable, that Cromwell, on the morning that he defeated the king's army, had conference personally with the devil in Perry Wood, and made a contract with him, that to have his will then, and in all things else for seven years from that day (he unsuccessfully proposed twenty-one or fourteen years), he should, at the expiration of the said term, have him at his command, to do at his pleasure, both with his soul and body. A valiant officer called Lindsay, an intimate friend of Cromwell's, is said to have been so horror-struck at the interview, that he fled from the battle that day, escaped to a friend's house at Norfolk, and foretold Cromwell's death would happen in seven years, which accordingly so happened on the anniversary day of the battle.

A few remains of fairy lore are yet to be picked up hereand there, and Mr. Jabez Allies has furnished us with as much probably as can be gained on this subject. He says that the peasantry of Alfrick and Lulsley occasionally suppose themselves "Puck-laden" (i. e.misled by that mischievous sprite Puck,aliasgood oldcider), and so drawn into ditches and bogs, whereupon the evil genius sets up a horse-laugh; also that Rosebury Rock, opposite Knightsford bridge, was a favourite haunt of the fairies, concerning whom he tells some curious tales of the patronage they bestowed upon those who had done them a good turn.

In the same locality is a place called "Callow's Leap," where it is said that a mighty hunter, named Callow, leaped down the precipice; what became of him afterwards no record saith, but it may be presumed that the consequences of the leap were not fatal, as Callow's grave, or at least the name of it, exists near Tenbury, a considerable distance from Alfrick. Many are the tales of sights unearthly to be seen at the former spot by nightâ€”of hideous black dogs running about, and of the difficulty of getting horses by that part of the road at times.

The "Jovial Hunter" is a legend of some note at Bromsgrove, and an old ballad is still remembered there which records the wondrous achievements of "Sir Ryalash" in ridding that country of an enormous wild boar, which, nerved by the promise of a fair lady's hand, he succeeded in despatching after a four hours' conflict. Bromsgrove, it is said, received its name from Boar's-grove, and there is a place called Burcot, or Boar's-cot, about three miles to the east of the town. An old story has also been handed down that the devil kept his hounds at Halesowen (Hell's Own), and, with his huntsman, Harry-ca-nab, riding on wild bulls, used to hunt the boars on Bromsgrove Lickey. Feckenham forest extended round this neighbourhood for many miles,and there are some historical evidences left of the zest with which the sport of hunting was formerly pursued here, among which is the mandate issued by Edward I to Peter Corbet, an ancestor of the family at Chaddesley, who, like other hunters of wolves, was in the king's pay. (See "Rambler," vol. iii, p. 220.) An argument has been raised from the fact of Robin Hood's name being applied to some trees and other objects in this neighbourhood that the great outlaw must have been at one time a resident in Feckenham forest; but there is no tangible evidence to support the conjecture, as the name of Robin Hood, like that of the Duke of Wellington or Lord Nelson, may probably be met with on signboards or otherwise in every county in England.

The parish of Wolverley has likewise its legend, derived from the period of the holy wars. Wolverley Court belonged to one of the Attwoods, who went out as a Crusader, was taken by the Saracens, and kept so long in a dungeon, that his lady at home, supposing him to be dead, was about to marry again, when the knight, having made a vow to the Virgin to present a large portion of his lands to the church at Worcester, was supernaturally liberated from his cell, whisked through the air, and deposited near home, when of course he lost no time in forbidding the banns. The prisoner's fetters are still preserved at the Court, as also the sculptured figure of the warrior, which formerly lay in the old church.

The name of Kidderminster is said to have been derived from the mythological period of Britain's history when King Cador resided at that town; his Majesty having been the founder of a minster thereâ€”hence Cador-minster; or, still more whimsical, comes the following versified legend:

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