The little rocky tree-decked islet in Windermere, called St.
Mary's, or the Ladye's Holme, hitherto reputed to have formed part
of the conventual domains of the Abbey at Furness, had its name
from a chantry dedicated to the Virgin Mary, which was standing
up to the reign of King Henry the Eighth, but of which no traces
are now remaining. "When," says an anonymous writer, "at the
Reformation, that day of desolation came, which saw the attendant
priests driven forth, and silenced for ever the sweet chant of
orison and litany within its walls; the isle and revenues of the
institution were sold to the Philipsons of Calgarth. By them the
building was suffered to fall into so utter a state of ruin,
that no trace even of its foundations is left to proclaim to the
stranger who meditates upon the fleeting change of time and creed,
that here, for more than three centuries, stood a hallowed fane,
from whence at eventide and prime prayers were wafted through the
dewy air, where now are only heard the festal sounds of life's
more jocund hours." Lately renewed antiquarian investigation has,
however, disclosed the erroneousness of the generally received
statement respecting the early ownership of this tiny spot; as in
Dodsworth's celebrated collection of ancient evidences there is
contained an Inquisition, or the copy of one, taken at Kendal, so
far back as the Monday after the feast of the Annunciation, in
the 28th Edward the Third, which shews that this retreat, amid
the waters of our English Como, appertained not to Furness Abbey,
but to the house of Segden, in Scotland, which was bound always
to provide two resident chaplains for the service of our Ladye's
Chapel in this island solitude. For the maintenance and support of
those priests, certain lands were given by the founder, who was
either one of that chivalrous race, descended from the Scottish
Lyndseys "light and gay," whose immediate ancestor in the early
part of the thirteenth century had married Alice, second daughter
and co-heiress of William de Lancaster, eighth Lord of Kendal;
and with her obtained that moiety of the Barony of Kendal, whose
numerous manors are collectively known as the Richmond Fee; or the
chantry may have owed its foundation to the pious impulses of
Ingelram de Guignes, Sire de Courci, one of the grand old Peers of
France, whose house, so renowned in history and romance, proclaimed
its independence and its pride in this haughty motto:--
"Je ne suis Roy ni Prince aussi,
Je suis Le Seignhor de Courci."
And which Ingelram in 1285 married Christiana, heiress of the last
de Lyndsey, and in her right, besides figuring on innumerable
occasions as a feudal potentate, both in England and Scotland, he
became Lord of the Fee, within which lies St. Mary's Isle.
On an Inquisition taken after the death of Johanna de Coupland,
in the 49th Edward the Third, it was found that she held the
advowson of the Chapel of Saint Mary's Holme, within the lake of
Wynandermere, but that it was worth nothing, because the land
which the said Chapel enjoyed of old time had been seized into
the hands of the King, and lay within the park of Calgarth. It is
on record, however, that in 1492, an annual sum of six pounds was
paid out of the revenues of the Richmond Fee, towards the support
of the Chaplains; and in the returns made by the ecclesiastical
Commissioners in Edward the Sixth's reign, "the free Chapel of
Holme and Wynandermere" is mentioned, shortly after which it was
granted, as aforesaid, to the owners of Calgarth.
The singular name of the "Crier of Claife" is now applied to an
extensive slate or flag quarry, long disused, and overgrown with
wood, on the wildest and most lonely part of the height called
Latter-barrow, which divides the vales of Esthwaite and Windermere,
above the Ferry. In this desolate spot, by the sanctity and skill
of holy men, had been exorcised and laid the apparition who had
come to be known throughout the country by that title; and the
place itself has ever since borne the same name. None of the
country people will go near it after night fall, and few care to
approach it even in daylight. Desperate men driven from their homes
by domestic discord, have been seen going in its direction, and
never known to return. It is said the Crier is allowed to emerge
occasionally from his lonely prison, and is still heard on very
stormy nights sending his wild entreaty for a boat, howling across
Windermere. Mr. Craig Gibson, in one of his graphic sketches of
the Lake country, says that he is qualified to speak to this, for
he himself has heard him. "At least," says he, "I have heard what
I was solemnly assured by an old lady at Cunsey must have been
the Crier of Claife. Riding down the woods a little south of the
Ferry, on a wild January evening, I was strongly impressed by a
sound made by the wind as, after gathering behind the hill called
Gummershow for short periods of comparative calm, it came rushing
up and across the lake with a sound startlingly suggestive of
the cry of a human being in extremity, wailing for succour. This
sound lasted till the squall it always preceded struck the western
shore, when it was lost in the louder rush of the wind through the
leafless woods. I am induced to relate this," he continues, "by
the belief I entertain that the phenomenon described thus briefly
and imperfectly, may account for much of the legend, and that the
origin of many similar traditional superstitions may be found in
something equally simple."
The late Mr. John Briggs, in his notes upon "Westmorland as it
was," by the Rev. Mr. Hodgson, has furnished his readers with some
curious information upon the "philosophy of spirits," which he
collected from those ancient sages of the dales who were supposed
to be best acquainted with the subject. Many of these superstitions
are now exploded: but the marvellous tales at one time currently
believed, still furnish conversation for the cottage fireside.
According to the gravest authorities, he says, no spirit could
appear before twilight had vanished in the evening, or after it
had appeared in the morning. On this account, the winter nights
were peculiarly dangerous, owing to the long revels which ghosts,
or dobbies, as they were called, could keep at that season. There
was one exception to this. If a man had murdered a woman who was
with child by him, she had power to haunt him at all hours; and the
Romish priests (who alone had the power of laying spirits,) could
not lay a spirit of this kind with any certainty, as she generally
contrived to break loose long before her stipulated time. A culprit
might hope to escape the gallows, but there was no hope of escaping
being haunted. In common cases, however, the priest could "lay"
the ghosts; "while ivy was green," was the usual term. But in
very desperate cases, they were laid in the "Red Sea," which was
accomplished with great difficulty and even danger to the exorcist.
In this country, the most usual place to confine spirits was under
Haws Bridge, a few miles below Kendal. Many a grim ghost has been
chained in that dismal trough!
According to the laws to which they were subject, ghosts could
seldom appear to more than one person at a time. When they appeared
to the eyes, they had not the power of making a noise; and when
they saluted the ear, they could not greet the eyes. To this,
however, there was an exception, when a human being spoke to them
in the name of the Blessed Trinity. For it was an acknowledged
truth, that however wicked the individual might have been in this
world, or however light he might have made of the Almighty's name,
he would tremble at its very sound, when separated from his earthly
covering.
The causes of spirits appearing after death were generally three.
Murdered persons came again to haunt their murderers, or to obtain
justice by appearing to other persons likely to see them avenged.
Persons who had hid any treasure, were doomed to haunt the place
where that treasure was hid; as they had made a god of their wealth
in this world, the place where their treasure lay was to be their
heaven after death. If any person could speak to them, and give
them an opportunity of confessing where their treasure was hid,
they could then rest in peace, but not otherwise. Those who died
with any heavy crimes on their consciences, which they had not
confessed, were also doomed to wander on the earth at the midnight
hour.
Spirits had no power over those who did not molest them; but if
insulted, they seem to have been extremely vindictive, and to have
felt little compunction in killing the insulter. They had power to
assume any form, and to change it as often as they pleased; but
they could neither vanish nor change, while a human eye was fixed
upon them.
Midway on Windermere, below the range of islands which intersect
the lake, extends the track along which ply the Ferry boats between
the little inn on the western side and the wooded promontory on
the opposite shore. The Ferry House, with its lawn in front and
few branching sycamores, occupies a jutting area between the base
of a perpendicular cliff and the lake. Few finer prospects can be
desired than that afforded from the summit which overhangs the
Mere at this point. The summer house, which has been built for the
sake of the views it commands of the surrounding country, is a
favourite resort of lovers of the beautiful in nature, whence they
may witness, in its many aspects afar, the grandeur of the mountain
world; and near and below, the beauty of the curving shores and
wooded isles of this queen of English lakes. From the Ferry House
to the Ferry Nab, as the promontory is called, on the western
shore, is barely half a mile. It was from thence that in the dark
stormy night the Evil voice cried "Boat!" which the poor ferryman
obeyed so fatally. No passenger was there, but a sight which sent
him back with bloodless face and dumb, to die on the morrow.