CONCERNING PEEL
There is hardly a pleasanter spot in the island from which to explore
its beauties than Peel. Situated on its west coast, at a point
sufficiently equidistant from its north and south extremities, and
as much out of reach of the corrupting influence of Douglas as any
centre well can be in an island of such insignificant dimensions,
Peel is not merely an admirable centre from which to make excursions,
but in itself is one of the quaintest and most picturesque of little
towns. Castletown, in fact, is its only possible Manx rival, and
Castletown ranks below it by a very long interval. The inland parts
of the town, no doubt, are dull, as new parts of most towns are apt
to be everywhere; but the ancient nucleus of the place, at the exact
point where the little River Neb flows out into the sea, and St.
Patrick's Island (which is now no longer an island, but an artificial
peninsula), are as picturesque and old-fashioned as anyone can wish.
St. Patrick's Island, indeed, whether viewed at close quarters from
the little pier on the opposite side of the harbour--where sometimes
at night one almost stumbles over piles of freshly caught fish that
are left there to glimmer and glint in the moonlight--or seen from
a distance from the coast to the north of Peel Bay, is probably the
most striking object in the whole Kingdom of Man. Possibly the Rock
of Cashel, which the writer has never seen, is crowded with points
of interest as many and as diverse: nowhere else, he fancies, in the
range of the British seas is it possible to discover such variety of
interest concentrated in a space so diminutive as this. Here is an old
castle and a ruined palace, a round tower, a roofless cathedral, and
an old pre-Conquest church. None by itself is of great importance, but
the aggregate (bounded in seven acres) is imposing in its "infinite
variety." The round tower, of course, has analogies in Ireland, and at
Abernethy, Egilsay, and Brechin, in Scotland; but is absolutely without
parallel in England. Much learning has been expended on the meaning
of these structures, which were possibly nothing more or less than
places of refuge, strange as their shape may appear for this purpose,
for people to take shelter in times of sudden scare. The Peel round
tower, however, differs from its Scottish and Irish neighbours in being
of one uniform diameter from bottom to finish, not tapering like the
others towards its top. The cathedral of St. Germain, now derelict and
roofless, exhibits more distinctive architectural features than any
other old church in the island. Parts of it date from the thirteenth
century; and many bishops of Sodor and Man have been buried inside its
walls. One of these, Samuel Rutter, who died in 1662, is commemorated
still by an inscription so quaint--it is easy to believe that it was
written by himself--that we may be pardoned for setting out most of it
at length: "In hac domo quam A vermiculis accepi confratribus meis, spe
Resurrectionis ad vitam, Jaceo Sam, Permissione divina Episcopus Hujus
Insulae. Siste Lector vide ac ride palatium episcopi. Obiit XXX° die
mensis Maij anno 1662." This is very wittily Englished thus in Black's
guide-book:
In this abode I lying am,
Bishop of this island, Sam;
Fraternal little worms remain
My comrades till I rise again.
Stay, reader, and inspect awhile
A Bishop's Palace; look and smile!
The crypt below the church is said once to have been used as a prison
for Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, who bulks so largely in
the second part of Shakespeare's _Henry VI._ "Not all these lords,"
exclaims the infuriated Margaret,
Not all these lords do vex me half so much
As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife:
She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies,
More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife.
The Duchess was accused in 1441 of treason against the King's life; and
was condemned, after doing penance for three days in the streets of
London, bareheaded, and with a lighted taper in her hand--Shakespeare
adds in a white sheet and with naked feet--to be kept in prison
for life. Shakespeare, or whoever wrote the Second Part of _Henry
VI._, makes her sent at once to the Isle of Man, in the custody of
its governor, Sir John (it should have been Sir Thomas) Stanley. It
appears, however, from the _Dictionary of National Biography_ that she
was first incarcerated at Chester, and afterwards at Kenilworth; and
it was only in July, 1446, that she was removed to the Isle of Man,
where "she is said to have been imprisoned in Peel Castle till her
death." Mr. W. R. Hall Caine, on the contrary, though he goes into
no detail, states roundly that "the Duchess was never a prisoner in
Peel Castle" at all--"she never set foot on our island." Who shall
decide where doctors disagree? Anyhow, it is extremely unlikely that
she was "cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd" in this narrow vault underneath
the cathedral. If Shakespeare may be trusted--but, of course, he is no
authority--the lady was to be kept close prisoner, but treated with due
respect:
To the Isle of Man;
There to be us'd according to your state.
_Duch._ That's bad enough, for I am but reproach:
And shall I then be us'd reproachfully?
_Stan._ Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady:
According to that state you shall be used.
Another tradition of this strange rock is the "Spectre Dog," which was
introduced by Scott into the _Lay of the Last Minstrel_, with his usual
delightful allusiveness:
But none of all the astonished train
Was so dismayed as Deloraine!
His blood did freeze, his brain did burn,
'Twas feared his mind would ne'er return;
For he was speechless, ghastly, wan,
Like him of whom the story ran,
That spake the spectre-hound in Man.
Scott, apparently, to judge from the notes to the edition of his
_Poems_ published at Edinburgh in 1830, got his material for this
reference from Waldron's _Description of the Isle of Man_, in which
a tradition is preserved "that an apparition, called, in the Mankish
language, the Mauthe Dhoo, in the shape of a large black spaniel
with curled shaggy hair, was used to haunt Peel Castle; and has been
frequently seen in every room, but particularly in the guard-chamber,
where, as soon as candles were lighted, it came and lay down before
the fire, in presence of all the soldiers, who at length, by being
so much accustomed to the sight of it, lost great part of the terror
they were seized with at its first appearance." They still, however,
"as believing it was an evil spirit, which only waited permission to
do them hurt ... forbore swearing and all profane discourse while
in its company, and none cared to be left alone with it," nor was
anyone willing without company to traverse a certain passage, from
which the dog was noticed to emerge at close of day, and which it
entered again at daybreak. "One night, a fellow being drunk, and by
the strength of his liquor rendered more daring than ordinary, laughed
at the simplicity of his companions, and, though it was not his turn
to go with the keys, would needs take that office upon him to testify
his courage. All the soldiers endeavoured to dissuade him, but the
more they said the more resolute he seemed, and swore that he desired
nothing more than that Mauthe Dhoo would follow him as it had done the
others, for he would try if it were dog or devil. After having talked
in a very reprobate manner for some time, he snatched up the keys and
went out of the guard-room; in some time after his departure a great
noise was heard, but nobody had the boldness to see what occasioned it,
till, the adventurer returning, they demanded the knowledge of him.
[Illustration: MAUGHOLD CHURCH.
The interesting little Church stands on Maughold Head.
In the foreground is an old sundial and by the Church
gate a fine cross.]
But as loud and noisy as he had been at leaving them, he was now
become sober and silent enough, for he was never heard to speak
more; and though all the time he lived--which was three days--he was
entreated by all who came near him either to speak, or, if he could
not do that, to make some signs by which they could understand what
had happened to him, yet nothing intelligible could be got from him,
only that, by the distortion of his limbs and features, it might be
guessed that he died in agonies more than are common in a natural
death. The Mauthe Dhoo was, however, never seen after in the castle,
nor would anyone attempt to go through that passage--for which reason
it was closed up, and another way made. This accident happened about
threescore years since, and I heard it attested by several, but
especially by an old soldier, who assured me he had seen it oftener
than he had then hairs on his head."