The old road between Keswick and Penrith passes over a rough hill,
called Castle Rigg, which the new road now avoids. In a field adjoining
this road, on the right hand side going to Penrith, just on the crown of
the hill, and at the distance of a mile and a-half east by north from
Keswick, are the remains of a Druidical Temple, popularly named the
Druids' Stones.
These interesting memorials of the primeval age of Britain consist of
forty-eight rude, unhewn blocks of granite, thirty-eight of which are
disposed in an oval figure, of which the diameter is thirty-four yards
from north to south, and nearly thirty from east to west: the remaining
ten stones form an oblong square on the eastern side of the oval area.
The latter enclosure, which is seven yards by three, is supposed to have
been the sacred place, exclusively appropriated to the Druidical order,
where the priests assembled to perform their mystical rites, and to
determine on matters of government and judicature. The largest of the
stones is upwards of seven feet in height, and may weigh about eight
tons, but the greater number measure only three or four feet in height;
they mostly stand in an erect position.
The situation of this ancient place for superstitious worship has been
skilfully chosen, when considered with reference to the idolatrous
superstitions of the Druids; the objects of which were to subdue the
mind with appalling images, and to extort obedience through the agency
of terror. It is seated in the neighbourhood of Skiddaw, Blencathara,
and Helvellyn, and some of the highest mountains of Cumberland, whose
clouded summits impended over the sacrificial altar, casting obscure
shadows through its precincts. Hither the trembling worshippers
repaired, to hear and to acknowledge the teachings and denunciations of
their potent masters. In the eyes of the barbarian Britons, alike
ignorant, credulous, and superstitious, the place would appear to be the
very sanctuary of Omnipotence, and the Druid ministers themselves an
impersonation of their gods. Wind and cloud, storm and tempest, wrought
powerfully in the abstruse mysteries and terrific incantations
constituting the Druidical worship; and the mind was prostrated, with
terrific awe, at the shrine where natural sublimity combined with human
cunning to thrill its scarcely awakened faculties. Here, at midnight,
every Druid, summoned by the terrible horn, never sounded but upon high
occasions, and descending from his mountain or secret cave, might
assemble, without intrusion from one sacrilegious footstep, and
celebrate a festival.
"By rites of such strange potency,
As, done in open day, would dim the sun,
Though 'throned in noontide brightness."
The tourist will tread this once hallowed circle, where the Druids
offered their adorations to Deity, and sat in judgment on their
fellow-men, with a mixture of awe and veneration, so well expressed by
the poet:--
"Skirted with unhewn stone, it awes my soul
As if the very Genius of the place
Himself appeared, and with terrific tread
Stalked through this drear domain."
In spite of the ravages of time, assisted by the destructive hand of
man, many Druidical monuments still remain amongst the seclusions of the
lakes and mountains of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and many are the
strange tales connected with them. For the interest of our readers, we
select the following:--
In times long gone by, when these mountains reared their naked heads to
the clouds--when their sides were clothed with oak, and their feet were
wet with morasses--when the wild cow and the wolf contested the
mastership of the unclaimed property--when human feet had never trod
these hills or vales--a mighty warrior left his companions in the south
and journeyed hitherward. His followers, as they traversed the forests
towards the north, met with a beautiful river, at the foot of a gentle
hill, well clothed with wood. The warrior said to his companions, let us
here construct our tents. Here is wood for shelter and fire; and this
river and these mountains will supply us with food.
Then they fixed poles in the ground, and fastened them together with
wicker-work of branches, and covered them with the green sod from the
ground. And the warrior said, the old oak trees around our dwellings
will shelter us from the storm in winter, and shade us from the sun in
summer. Thus they continued to pass the time in hunting the wild deer
among the hills, and in fishing in the adjoining river; and as they were
not disturbed by wars, they rapidly increased in strength and numbers.
Their ancient priests or Druids retired farther north, because their
solemn rites required the greatest privacy; and the mistletoe, their
sacred emblem, abounded more among the northern forests. Besides, stones
to construct their temples of were more easily procured among these
hills; and being far from the haunts of men, they could indulge in the
gloomy contemplation of the vindictive character of the Deity--for they
knew him only as a Being capable of revenging every insult offered to
His name.
When their town was become very populous, there lived in it a youth of
superior strength and agility, who was remarked for being particularly
expert with the bow, and so swift that few could outstrip him in the
race. At feats of strength or skill, he was ever foremost: and, in
attacking the wolf, or the wild cow, few possessed so daring a soul. It
is an old maxim, with few exceptions, that love is the companion of
bravery--and Mudor loved the gentle Ella. They had retired, at an early
age, to a grove farther up the river, where stood the image of their God
Mogan, which had been purchased of some Phenician merchants, along with
some iron hatchets, in exchange for the skins of beasts, slain in the
chase. Before this rude representation of the Deity they mutually
pledged their vows; and to render those pledges more binding, they each
stained a blue sun on their breasts, as a memorial that their faith
should be as durable as the light of that luminary. No one felt so proud
on hearing the praise of Mudor as Ella did--no one hailed his return
from the chase, loaded with spoils, with the warmth of Ella--nor did any
one so much admire the elegance of the blue symbols of his prowess and
his faith, which were painted on his skin, as did the faithful Ella.
Reared in two adjoining cabins, their infant sports had been together.
For her he had plunged into the morass to procure the richest and
sweetest water-lilies--he had climbed the loftiest oak to gain the
cushat eggs--and the scarf of squirrel skins which screened her from
the cold, was the produce of his most early adventures in the chase.
Thus circumstanced, their hearts were knit together by those ties which
bind the savage as well as the civilized; for the heart of the naked
Indian who treads the burning sands of the desert is as warm to the
tender impressions of love as the prince who stretches his limbs on a
silken couch, or reposes on a bed of down.
These faithful lovers dreamt of no unkindly fate interfering, when a
fever broke out in the town, and swept away a number of its inhabitants.
Application was made to the priest of Mogan to avert the awful
visitation by prayer; but he returned for answer, that the wickedness of
the people had offended the Great Invisible, and the fever was sent as a
just punishment. The Druids, therefore, who resided in the
neighbourhood, made a pilgrimage to one of their largest temples,
situated among the mountains, in the midst of a vast forest. The
Arch-Druid, having gathered the mistletoe, just as the rising sun licked
the dew from its berries, and performed a number of other rites, to
obtain answer from the Great Spirit, informed them that Heaven would not
be appeased unless a young virgin was immolated as a sacrifice for the
sins of the inhabitants. When this intelligence was announced, the
utmost dismay seized on every heart. Parents trembled for their
daughters, and the daughters trembled for themselves; for no one knew on
whom the lot would fall.
The Druids of the neighbouring groves assembled together, and cast lots,
according to their established usage. The lot fell on Ella! Sad was the
heart of Mudor when he heard this; and vainly did he entreat that some
other victim might be selected in her stead. It was the irrevocable
decree of heaven, and the priests had not the power to alter it. No one
felt the sentence less severely than Ella did. She resigned herself to
the will of the Deity; and would not render unavailable the sacrifice
by any vain and foolish complaints. Still the affection she felt for
Mudor would steal across her mind, and a momentary wish that she might
have lived to fulfil her vows would interrupt her devotional
complacency.
The morning arrived when Ella was to be conveyed far into the deserts,
among the northern mountains, to the gloomy dell, where Heaven would
alone be appeased. Mudor, at a humble distance, followed the procession
of the Druids, and separating himself from the crowd which usually
assembled to witness those awful rites of the Druid priests, appeared
like one who had no conception of what was passing before him. They at
length arrived at the place of sacrifice, which was a gloomy dell, in
the midst of a forest, near the banks of a river, surrounded by
magnificent scenery. This dell was a curious cavity in the rock, of
considerable extent, and rendered almost dark by the overhanging
branches of the ancient oaks which grew above it. A small circular area,
surrounded with large upright stones, was the place of sacrifice. The
priests assembled to perform their horrid rites; while the gaping crowd
hung in the fissures of the rock on each side, or sat on the branches of
the trees, waiting the celebration of the awful ceremony. The bards,
with their heads crowned with oak, advanced to the north side of the
circle; and after paying obedience to the sun, they chanted the
following hymn:--
"Being great, who reign'st alone,
Veiled in clouds, unseen, unknown,
Centre of the vast profound,
Clouds of darkness close thee round.
"Thy nod makes storms and tempests rise,
Thy breath makes thunder shake the skies,
Thy frown turns noon-day into night,
And makes the sun withdraw his light.
"Beneath thy anger we expire,
The victims of thy vengeful ire;
Destruction rules at thy command,
And ruin blackens all the land."
A small cabin of basket-work was erected near the western side of the
circle, in the lowest part of the dell, with a door opening towards the
Druidical circle. In this the youthful Ella was to be immolated. She was
brought into the circle; a garland of oak leaves was bound round her
neck, a chaplet of wild flowers placed on her head, and a piece of
mistletoe in her hand. Thus adorned she was led to the centre of the
circle, and supported there by two aged priests, while the bards chanted
the following invocation to the sun:--