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.
Legends and Traditions.
The legends 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 the tympanum 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 the shore 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 Archæological
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
caught _in flagrante delicto_, and their sacrilegious crimes were
punished by flaying--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
establishments--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 prudent or 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 there remains 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 here and 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, _alias_ good old _cider_), 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 night--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
there--hence Cador-minster; or, still more whimsical, comes the
following versified legend:
"King Cador saw a pretty maid:
King Cador would have kissed her:
The damsel slipt aside and said--
'King Cador, you have miss'd her.'"
(And echo answered--"Cador-mister.")
As to the etymology of the parish of Oddingley, Dr. Nash informs us
that Odd and Dingley, two Saxon giants, were said to have fought upon
the common at that place, till the former, beginning to feel anxious
for his own personal comfort, roared out--
"O Dingley, Dingley, spare my breath:
It shall be called Oddingley heath."
Oddo and Doddo were two powerful dukes of the Mercian kingdom, whose
history is connected with that of several towns in this district, and
they were buried in Pershore church. Oddingley, however, most probably
means "the field of Oding."
In Areley Kings churchyard is a curious monument formed of sandstone
blocks, like a portion of a wall, being part of the ancient fence; it
bears this inscription in old capitals:
"Lithologema quare?
Reponitvr Sir Harry."
Sir Harry Coningsby, who is thus commemorated, lived in a moated
grange in Herefordshire, and was early left a widower, with one child,
a daughter, on whom all his happiness was centred. He was standing
one day at an open window with the child in his arms, when, in some
playful action, she threw herself out of her father's arms, and fell
into the moat beneath, where life soon became extinct. The wretched
parent could no longer bear to reside at that fatal spot, and removed
into Worcestershire, to a house called "The Sturt," in Areley Kings,
where he led a solitary life, went usually by the name of "Sir Harry,"
and when he died was buried in a corner of the churchyard, the epitaph
being carved on that part of the churchyard wall which formed Sir
Harry's "pane.[8]" A walnut tree was planted close to the grave, and
the boys of the parish were to have the walnuts, and crack them on "Sir
Harry's" gravestone; but the tree was cut down by the late rector.
[8] The term "pane" means that portion of the churchyard fence which
was allotted to each parishioner to keep in repair.
The ancient parish of King's Norton keeps up the memory of two
traditions--first, that Queen Elizabeth once slept in a large and
picturesque building still shown there; and second, that some centuries
ago, letters were usually directed to "Birmingham _near_ Kingsnorton."
Droitwich likewise boasts of having, in some remote period, been a
town of so much more importance than Worcester, that the latter was
known chiefly by its vicinity to the former. There is indeed every
probability that the salt springs of Droitwich were worked by the
earliest settlers in this island.
The register of Broughton Hackett is said by Nash to contain an entry,
that in the reign of Queen Anne the minister of that parish was tried,
convicted, and executed, for baking his shepherd's boy in an oven!
There is a tradition at Birtsmorton that Cardinal Wolsey was once a
servant in the Court-house of that parish.
Tibberton also has its traditions. It is said there that one Roger
Tandy (_temp._ James I) was so very strong, that being at Sir John
Pakington's, at Westwood, he took up a hogshead full of beer, drank out
of the bunghole, and set it down again, without resting it on his knee
or elsewhere. Also that one Hugh Pescod, _alias_ "the little Turk," in
the time of Oliver Cromwell, was hung up by the neck for half-an-hour
by some Parliamentarian soldiers, and being cut down and thrown into a
saw-pit, he recovered; in memory of which era in his history he planted
some elm trees near his orchard at Wood Green.
At Dudley there is a tradition that many years ago a giant lived
in Dudley castle, as did also one in the castle of Birmingham. The
Birmingham giant had done suit and service to the Dudley giant for
many years, but growing fat he began to kick, and refused to serve the
Dudley giant longer. A furious dispute thereupon broke out; the Dudley
giant in his rage threw a large stone all the way from Dudley at the
Birmingham giant, and demolished his castle and killed him. Some of
his surviving followers erected a stone in the lane as a memento of
prowess and rage, and called it the war stone, whence the name Warstone
Lane. When the lord of Dudley castle began the dispute which ended in
the ruin of the lord of Birmingham, the latter had a large and deep
hole made in the castle yard, in the which were buried the treasures
and the muniments of his house, with a full charge to his familiar
spirit--every great man in those days had one--to watch over them until
better days came and justice were done to him. Some years ago, as a
gentleman was digging a well in his garden he came unexpectedly upon
a strong box. He began to dig round it, and had got it slung in ropes
for the purpose of hauling it up, when an ugly dwarf jumped upon it (no
one seeing where he came from or went to), exclaiming, "That's mine."
Immediately all the earth fell in the hole he had made. He tried many
times to get the box, but every time the same thing occurred, so he
gave up the attempt in despair. My grandmother has often told me she
did not know the gentleman, but she had frequently seen the pick and
spade with which the hole had been made.--J. VERNAL.
St. Augustine's Oak--the celebrated tree under which the "Apostle
of the English" is said to have held a conference with the British
bishops--has been claimed by many places in this county as a plant of
Worcestershire growth: Rock and Alfrick, a place called "The Apostle's
Oak," near Stanford Bridge, the Mitre Oak at Hartlebury, and other
places, have been pointed out, but the record left of the site of this
famous oak is so vague that any attempt at fixing it must be mere
matter of conjecture. Some have supposed that the parish of Rock, whose
original name was derived from the Saxon word signifying an oak, must
have been the site, as Dr. Nash informs us that there was a hollow
oak there held in great veneration by the country people, and called
by them "The Apostle's Oak." When the turnpike was first erected, it
served as a habitation for the keeper, and through his carelessness was
burnt down.
Old Customs.
THE BABES OF BETHLEHEM.
It is an ancient custom at Norton, near Evesham, on the 28th of
December (Innocents' Day) to ring a muffled peal, in token of sorrow
for the slaughter of the hapless "babes of Bethlehem," and, immediately
afterwards, an unmuffled peal, in manifestation of joy for the
deliverance and escape of the infant Saviour.
RINGING FOR THE PARSON.
At Huddington church a custom prevails not to ring the bell for service
till the clergyman appears in sight--which probably originated in that
interesting period of church discipline when congregations were not
always sure of a parson till they had caught him.
BAPTISMS.
The number of godfathers and godmothers to attend at baptisms was fixed
at Worcester, at a synod held in 1240, when the same provision was made
as is now required by our rubric, viz., "That there should be for every
male child that is to be baptized two godfathers and one godmother, and
for every female one godfather and two godmothers."
CRABBING THE PARSON.
The custom of "crabbing the parson" was observed till lately at
St. Kenelm's chapelry, near Stourbridge. It was the practice for
the villagers, and all who chose, to arm themselves with crabs on
the wake Sunday, and as the parson approached the church they were
plentifully and vigorously discharged at him in the most approved mode
of "horizontal firing" until he reached the haven of the church porch.
The substitution of sticks and stones for crabs led to the suppression
of the practice. It is said that the origin of this curious game was at
some "time immemorial," when a certain clergyman who served this chapel
abstracted some dumplings from a pot at a farmhouse near and deposited
them in the sleeves of his surplice, from which they rolled out during
service time on the head of the clerk, who, thinking himself insulted,
retaliated upon the parson by pelting him with a quantity of crabs
which he had accidentally got in his pocket.
PRIMITIVE CATHEDRAL CUSTOMS.