SUPERNATURAL BEINGS
A book such as this cannot pretend to do justice to the mine of
folk-lore which even the most superficial acquaintance with the dialects
opens up to any one who cares to delve therein. Here we meet with the
outward and visible signs of old superstitions of mythical origin,
popular beliefs, faith in charms, and quaint medical lore concerning all
kinds of human ills, betokening a strange mixture of Christianity and
creeds of heathen times, of pious faith and childlike dread of the
unknown and mysterious still existing in the minds of our rural
population. Very many of these old superstitious beliefs and practices
are, as we should naturally expect, dead and gone, or traceable only in
shadowy legend and story, the marvel is that so many are yet alive in
spite of the spread of education. Indeed, superstition is by no means a
monopoly of the uneducated or semi-educated mind, the only difference is
that where the rustic gives free expression to his fears and fancies, we
disguise ours from the public gaze under a cloak of mockery or of
would-be science.
[Sidenote: _Local Apparitions_]
Among the outworn superstitions is the belief in all those imaginary
beings that peopled the darkness of long ago. They have nearly all
disappeared, except that the names of some of them have been added
to the list of that hideous crew of fictitious personages invented
to terrorize the young. They are chiefly monstrous animals, and
goblins, some harmless, some terrific and of evil omen; the ghost, as
the spirit of the departed, is a minor character on the stage. The
dialect terms: _fearing_, _frittening_, _summat_, _things_, usually
imply ghostly appearances of any shape, not specially human. The same
may be said of the word _know_, e.g. The know of a dog, is the shape
of a dog when the dog is not there. _Ghostlin_ is a contemptuous
term for an apparition, one which might be used by a person born on
Christmas Day, for such are born ghost-free to the end of their lives.
To _come again_ is the common phrase for the supposed return of the
dead, e.g. You remembers ’Arry Whitly as was cut t’pieces an the
line? Well, he comes agen strong, in six pieces; or the dead man may
be said to be _troublesome_, e.g. I can’t never bide in th’ouse--the
poor old Harry’s that troublesome. Here and there some special ghost
keeps its local habitation and name, as for instance, Spotloggin, the
ghost of a murdered man which haunts a certain ditch near Evesham in
Worcestershire. It appears after dark to any one who attempts to cross
the ditch at a point where there is no hedge on the bank, and where
according to tradition no hedge will grow, it being the precise spot
where the murder took place. We may presume that few do venture to
pass that way, and encounter the veritable ghost, for its identity is
still a matter of question. Some who ignore the commonplace murder
story, maintain that Spotloggin was ‘a lady of that name who used to
patch her face, and was supposed to be very proud’. Speaking generally,
however, I think it may be said that it is rather the educated mind
which concerns itself with ghosts of this kind. A lady historian of
Shropshire folk-lore tells us that her inquiries after ghost-stories
had more than once been met by this answer from the country rustic: I
dunna believe as there’s anythin’ in it, as the dead come back. If they
bin gone to the good place they wouldna want to come back, and if they
bin gone to the tother place they wouldna be let to.
[Sidenote: _Boggarts_]
The generic name for an apparition, whether ghost or hobgoblin, is
_boggart_ or _boggard_, cp. ‘a boggarde, _spectrum_’, Levins, _Manip._
1570. Many an old Hall in Lancashire had its own private and particular
boggart, as for instance, the Boggart of Clegg Hall, the Clayton Hall
Boggart, the Clock House Boggart, &c. The Clock House Boggart was
wont to stalk through the bedchambers at dead of night, and strip the
bedclothes off the sleepers; or it would sit, a gigantic, white-robed
figure, perched solemnly in a large yew-tree, beneath which tree it
was ultimately laid by an assemblage of divines. The Clayton Hall
Boggart was likewise notorious for its nightly pranks--snatching
the clothes off beds, trailing heavy weights across floors, and the
like--till at last it became so insufferable that steps had to be taken
to lay it. One of the best ways of laying a boggart was to beguile it
into consenting to keep away ‘while hollies are green’. The average
boggart, being too dull-witted to perceive the true inwardness of the
suggestion, easily fell into the trap, and was never able to appear
again. Aw’m heere agen, like the Clegg Hall Boggart, is, or used to
be, a popular saying commemorating one of these well-known ghosts.
A horse that starts at any object in the hedge or road is said to
take the boggart. In Cheshire the word denotes a scarecrow, a meaning
familiarized to us by Caldecott’s illustrations to _The Three Jovial
Huntsmen_:
They hunted, an’ they hollo’d, an’ the first thing they did find,
Was a tatter’t boggart, in a field, an’ that they left behind.
Cp. ‘Like as a fray-boggarde in a garden off cucumbers kepeth nothinge,
even so are their goddes of wod, of sylver and golde,’ Coverdale
(1535), _Baruch_ vi. 69. The most dramatic and awesome of all the
boggarts is the north-country Barghest, a frightful goblin armed with
teeth and claws, having eyes as big as saucers, and loaded with heavy
chains, which rattle and clank, like Herne the Hunter who ‘shakes a
chain in a most hideous and dreadful manner’, _Merry Wives_, IV. iv.
33. Sometimes the Barghest takes the shape of a large dog, donkey, pig,
or calf; sometimes only its terrifying shrieks are heard, as it passes
by at midnight, boding death to any one who happens to hear the sound.
It has long been a prominent figure among apparitions, and various
attempts have been made to account for its name. Some folklorists think
that the word is a corruption of _barn-ghaist_ [ghost], others suggest
_bier-ghaist_, and others, with a sense of the picturesque, say it is
_bar-ghaist_, because the spectre had a habit of sitting on the top
rail of a gate or fence, waiting, ready to leap on to the shoulder of
the belated wanderer. But whatever its origin, the name yet lives in
proverbial sayings such as: to roar like a barghest (Dur.), and as a
term of abuse (Yks. Not.), e.g. You noisy bargust, said to a child, or:
Y’er allus i’ th’road, yer young bargest, ger out! Church-grim (Yks.)
is a fixed inhabitant of the church by day and by night, and only
‘marauds about’ in dark stormy weather. It has been known to toll the
death-bell at midnight, and at times a priest officiating at a burial
would see it sitting at a window in the church-tower, when he would be
able to tell by the creature’s aspect whether the soul of the departed
was saved or lost. Clap-cans (Lan.) does nothing beyond making a noise
as of beating on empty cans. Gally-trot (n.Cy. Suf.) is the name of
an alarming apparition in the shape of a dog, and of the size of a
bullock. It is white, and somewhat shadowy of outline, and it gives
chase to any one who runs away from it in fear. The word is derived
from _gally_, to frighten, scare, and may also be used as a common term
for ghostly objects in general, though it sounds almost slangy, and one
could fancy that in spectral circles it might be deemed an impertinence
to speak--let us say--of the Barghest of York as a mere gally-trot.
A guytrash (n.Cy. Yks.) is an evil cow whose appearance was formerly
believed in as a sign of death. Jack-in-irons (Yks.) is a supernatural
being of great stature, wearing clanking chains, who may at any moment
spring out on a passer-by in the dark. Old Baker, Old Bendy, and Old
Lob are just ordinary boggarts. Pad-foot is a terrible boggart with
saucer-eyes, and dragging clanking chains; or it takes the form of a
large sheep or dog walking beside you, making a soft noise--pad, pad,
pad--with its feet. It always portends disaster. Old Shock (e.An.) is
a mischievous goblin in the shape of a great dog or calf, haunting
highways and footpaths after dark. Those who are so foolhardy as to
encounter the beast are sure to be thrown down and severely bruised.
Skriker (Yks. Lan.) is an apparition portending death. It wanders
about in the woods by night uttering loud, piercing shrieks, its form
being then invisible. At other times it takes visible shape as a large
dog, with enormous feet and shaggy hair, and the usual saucer-eyes.
When walking, its feet make a splashing noise, as of a person in old
shoes walking in soft mud; hence it is also known by the name of Trash,
for to _trash_ signifies to walk wearily through wet and mire, and
_trashes_ are worn-out shoes.
[Sidenote: _Apparitions in the form of Animals_]
Then there is the phantom horse under its various names: Aughisky
(Irel.), the fairy water-horse that preys on cattle; Phooka (Irel.), the
spectral horse which carries off belated travellers on its back; Neugle
(Sh.I.), the water-kelpie which appears in the form of a sleek horse,
and vanishes in a ‘blue lowe’, also known by the name of De Shoopiltie;
Shagfoal (Lin. Nhp.), a hobgoblin in the shape of a small, rough horse,
with eyes like tea-saucers; Tangie (Sh. & Or.I.), a sea-spirit which
sometimes assumes the appearance of a horse, and at other times that of
an old man. Taroo-ushtey (I.Ma.) is a fabulous water-bull.
[Sidenote: _Gabriel’s Hounds_]
The Gabriel Ratchets, Gabble Raches, or Gabriel’s Hounds (n.Cy. Yks.
Lan. Stf. Der.) are spectre dogs whose yelping cry may be heard at dead
of night, or in the early morning, what time the collier goes to his
work in the pits, a warning of death to the hearer or to some one among
his kinsfolk and acquaintance. Their leader Gabriel is condemned to
follow his hounds at night, high in the upper air, till doomsday, for
the sin of having hunted on Sunday. Wordsworth alludes to this
superstition in one of his Sonnets:
For overhead are sweeping Gabriel’s Hounds,
Doomed, with their impious lord, the flying hart
To chase for ever on aërial grounds.
[Sidenote: _The Devil and his Dandy-dogs_]
By some the sound is believed to be the cry of the restless souls
of children who have died unbaptized. As a matter of fact it is
probably caused by flocks of wild geese or other fowl. The term is
found as far back as 1483 in the _Catholicon Anglicum_: ‘Gabrielle
rache, _camalion_,’ cp. ‘Ratche, hounde, _ordorinsecus_,’ _Prompt.
Parv._, O.E. _ræcc_, a dog that hunts by scent. In Cornwall a spectre
huntsman and his pack of baying hounds are known as the Devil and his
Dandy-dogs. Unlike the Gabriel Ratchets, which fly too high in the
air to be visible to mortal eye, the Devil and his Dandy-dogs walk
the earth, and may be seen as well as heard. They frequent bleak and
dreary moors on tempestuous nights, and woe betide the unlucky wretch
who chances to cross their path. A story is told of a poor herdsman who
was journeying home across a moor, one windy night, when, above the
noise of the storm, he heard behind him the howl of the yelping dogs,
and the grim halloa of the hunter. Presently they had so gained on him,
that, glancing back, he could see the terrible saucer-eyes, horns, and
tail of the hunter, a black form, carrying a long hunting-pole, and
the mass of dogs, each snorting fire and uttering frightful yelps. But
just as they were about to spring upon him, by a happy inspiration he
fell on his knees in prayer, and the foe was rendered powerless. The
hell-hounds stood for a moment at bay, howling dismally, and then,
led by their master, they drew off and disappeared. These phantom
hounds, jet-black, and breathing flames are also known by the name of
Heath-hounds; Yeth-hounds (Som. Dev. Cor.), and Wisht-hounds (Dev.
Cor.).
To roar like Tregeagle is a Cornish phrase, whereby hangs a tale. One
tradition tells that Tregeagle was a steward in the reign of James II,
who made himself unpopular by his harshness to the tenantry, and another
legend bases his claim to notoriety on his being a Cornish Bluebeard,
who married several heiresses for their money, and afterwards murdered
them. But whether for cruelty to tenants, or murder of wives, as a
punishment for his sins his spirit was doomed to toil for ever at
impossible tasks such as weaving sand, and emptying perennial pools with
a cockle-shell. When the Devil is so minded he amuses himself by hunting
this miserable ghost over the moor with his hell-hounds, at which time
Tregeagle is heard to roar and howl in so dreadful a manner that his
name has passed into a proverb.
[Sidenote: _The Seven Whistlers_]
The Seven Whistlers are mysterious birds, the sound of whose cry is a
sign of some great calamity. Miners have been known to refuse to go down
the pits the day after hearing it, believing that some accident would
befall them if they did so. The superstitions concerning the Seven
Whistlers vary in different parts of the country, from Lancashire to
Essex and Kent. Wordsworth records of his ancient Dalesman:
He the seven birds hath seen that never part,
Seen the Seven Whistlers on their nightly rounds,
And counted them.
In parts of Shropshire and Worcestershire they were, according to the
legend, seven birds, six of whom fly about continually looking for the
seventh, and when they find him, the world will come to an end. The idea
of the wailing of unseen birds sent by Providence as a direct warning of
approaching danger belongs more particularly to colliery districts,
though it is not confined to them. Just as behind the stories told of
the Gabriel Ratchets is the natural cry of migrating wild geese, so the
voice of the Seven Whistlers can be traced to passing flocks of widgeon,
curlews, or plovers. Indeed, the name is actually given in some places
to these birds: I knows what makes the noise; it’s them long-billed
curlews; but I never likes to hear them (Ken.).
[Sidenote: _Names for imaginary Monsters_]
The boggarts who are named in those awful threats by means of which the
young are quelled into obedience to authority seem wellnigh innumerable.
They include monsters of every sort and description, from the plain
unadorned bogie--e.g. If tha doesna leave off skrikin’, I’ll fetch a
black bogy to thee--to the highly dramatic figure of the skeleton that
haunted the wicked murderer, crying, Oi want my booans, Oi want my
booans! Pictures such as this, when presented to the vivid imagination
of children, doubtless gain rather than lose in lurid colouring and
terrifying shape, and one shudders to think of the effect they must
produce on impressionable minds, though in the majority of cases, no
doubt, familiarity breeds a wholesome contempt. Amongst these imaginary
monsters are: the Black man (Sc. Lei. War. Oxf. Sus. Som. Dev.); Black
Parr (Nhp.); the Bo-chap (n.Yks.); the Bo-lo (Nhb.); the Bodach (Sc.),
e.g. In ye binna quayet the bodach ill cum doon the lum [chimney] an’
tak ye; Bugabo (Sc. Irel. Midl.), Bugan (I.Ma. Chs. Shr.). The simple
form _Bug_, a bogie, is apparently obsolete, remaining only in the
phrase _to take bug_ (Midl.), to take fright. Dr. Johnson has: ‘Bug.
Bugbear.... A frightful object; a walking spectre, imagined to be seen;
generally now used for a false terrour to frighten babes.’
Jack-up-the-orchard (Shr.), e.g. If yo’ dunna tak’ car’ I’ll shewn yo’
Jack-up-the-orchut’; Knocky-boh (n.Yks.), a bogie who taps behind the
wainscot to frighten children; Mumpoker (I.W.), e.g. I’ll zend the
mumpoker ater ye; Old Scrat (n.Cy. dials.), e.g. By goy! but auld
Scratty’ll git thi if thoo doesn’t come in; Pokey-hokey (e.An.); Punky
(w.Yks.); Tankerabogus, or Tantarabobus (Som. Dev.), e.g. Now, Polly,
yü’ve abin a bad, naughty maid, and ef yü be sich a wicked cheel again,
I’ll zend vur tankerabogus tü come and cār yü away tü ’is pittee-awl
[pit-hole]; Tod-lowrie (n.Cy.), e.g. Here’s Tod-lowrie coming! In
Scotland the word is a name for the fox. Tom Dockin (Yks.), a bogie
having iron teeth, with which he devours bad children; Tom-poker
(e.An.), a bogie who inhabits dark closets, holes under stairs,
unoccupied cock-lofts, &c. Churn-milk Peg (w.Yks.) and Melsh Dick
(n.Cy.) are wood-demons supposed to protect soft, unripe nuts from being
gathered by naughty children, the former being wont to beguile her
leisure by smoking a pipe. The Gooseberry-wife (I.W.), in the guise of a
large furry caterpillar, takes charge of the green gooseberries, e.g. If
ye goos out in the gearden, the gooseberry-wife’ll be sure to ketch ye;
while in the orchards is Awd Goggie (e.Yks.), guarding the unripe
apples. Grindylow, Jenny Green-teeth, and Nelly Long-arms (Yks. Lan.
Chs. Der. Shr.) are the various names of a nymph or water-demon who is
said to lurk at the bottom of deep pits, ponds, and wells. When children
approach too near to the edge of her domain, she will stretch out her
long, sinewy arms, seize them, and drag them under the water, holding
them there till they are drowned. Her presence is indicated by a green
scum on the surface of the water. If there is no pond or deep water for
her near by, she has been supposed to take up a temporary lodging in the
tops of trees, where after nightfall she may be heard moaning, in a
voice like the sighing of the night-wind through the branches of trees.
In some parts of the country, instead of Jenny Green-teeth, the boggart
of the ponds is a masculine water-demon called Rawhead (Yks. Lan. Lin.
War. e.An.), Tommy Rawhead (w.Yks.), Bloody-bones (Lan.), or Rawhead and
Bloody-bones, e.g. Keep away from the marl-pit or rawhead and
bloody-bones will have you. This personage is often mentioned in our
earlier literature. Dr. Johnson has: ‘Rawhead.... The name of a spectre,
mentioned to fright children,’ followed by quotations from Dryden and
Locke.
[Sidenote: _Cornish Sprites_
_Cornish Traditions as to the Jews_]
Bucca, Gathorns, Knockers, Nicker, Nuggies, and Spriggans are
individual and collective appellations for the sprites that haunt the
tin-mines of Cornwall. They hardly belong to the boggart tribe of
spectres whose business it is to terrify mortals with gruesome sounds
and horrid shapes. They are for the most part a harmless folk, occupied
in mining on their own account, out of sight of the human miners. These
latter, however, take pains not to annoy the goblin workers; whistling
and swearing, for instance, are held to be obnoxious to mine-spirits,
and must therefore be avoided. Once upon a time there was a miner
called Barker, who was foolhardy enough to say he did not believe there
were any Knockers. In revenge for this insult, a crowd of Knockers
waylaid him, and pelted him with their tools, causing him a lifelong
injury, whence grew up the proverb: As stiff as Barker’s knee. Bucca
is an Old Cornish word for hobgoblin. Nicker is the same word as Old
English _nicor_, a hippopotamus, a water-monster, in which latter sense
it is found in the dialect of the Shetland Islands. This water-goblin
is probably the original of Nickerbore (Yks.), of whom it is related
that he sat on the wrong side of a branch which overhung a stream, to
saw it off, and in consequence fell into the water. Tell Nickybore,
don’t tell me, is equivalent to: Tell that to your grandmother. The
Knockers know where to find the most productive lodes, and sometimes
they reward an industrious miner by pointing out to him where he might
take a good tribute pitch. They are generally heard working deep
underground, but at no great distance, for the rolling of barrows, the
stroke of pickaxes, and the fall of earth and stones are distinctly
heard, and sometimes voices seem to mingle with these sounds.
Some say that these phantom toilers are the souls of the Jews who
formerly worked the Cornish tin-mines, and who, for their wicked
practices as tinners, have never been allowed to rest; others suppose
them to be the ghosts of the Jews that crucified Jesus, who were sent as
slaves by the Roman Emperor to work the tin-mines. The association of
the mine-spirits with the Jews is based on the historical fact that
after the Conquest, the tin-mines of Cornwall and Devon were farmed by
Jews, as is proved by charters granted by several kings of England, more
especially by King John, and further corroborated by the existence of
such terms as: _Jews’ bowels_, small pieces of smelted tin found in old
smelting works; _Jews’ houses_, very old smelting places; _Jews’
leavings_, mine refuse; _Jews’ pieces_, very ancient blocks of tin.
[Sidenote: _Will-o’-the-wisp_]
The dialect terms denoting the ignis fatuus, or Will-o’-the-wisp, are
some masculine and some feminine names; or again, they may denote an
unpersonified apparition--e.g. corp-candle, corpse-candle (Sc. Lan.
Lin.); dead[death]-candle (Sc.)--regarded as an omen of death. Among
these names are: Billy-wi’-t’wisp (w.Yks.); Hobbledy’s-lantern (War.
Wor. Glo.); Hob-lantern, Hobby-lantern (Wor. Hrt. e.An. Hmp. Wil.
w.Cy.); Jack-a-lantern (in gen. dial. use), cp. ‘Jack with a Lantern,’
Johnson, _Dict._; Jenny-burnt-tail (Nhp. Oxf.); Jenny-wi’-t’-lantren
(Nhb. n.Yks.); Joan-in-the-wad, or Joan-the-wad [bundle of straw] (Som.
Cor.); Kit-in-the-candlestick (Hmp.); Kitty-candlestick (Wil.);
Kitty-wi’-the-wisp (Nhb.); the Lantern-man (e.An.); Peg-a-lantern
(Lan.); Peggy-lantern (Lin.); Pinket (Wor.). This lantern-bearing sprite
haunts bogs and swampy meadows, where it gambols and dances by itself,
or:
Hovering and blazing with delusive light,
Misleads th’ amaz’d night-wanderer from his way
To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool,
There swallow’d up and lost, from succour far.
Some people have connected herewith the Led-will superstition formerly
current in East Anglia, explaining the phrase as meaning led-by-will,
i.e. by Will-o’-the-wisp. Led-will is defined as an influence under
which the victims, though perfectly sane and sober, lose themselves on
well-known paths. It causes farmers to walk round and round their own
familiar fields for hours without finding the exit, and to make short
circular tours in their gigs, returning to the point whence they
started. Persons under this influence must always travel in circles, and
the only way of escape is to turn some article of their clothing. The
most probable meaning of the term is led astray, _will_ representing
O.N. _villr_, bewildered, erring, astray, cp. ‘ðo fleg agar fro sarray
[Sarai], ... In ðe diserd [desert] wil and weri,’ _Gen. & Exod._, c.
1250.
[Sidenote: _Hobgoblins_]
The ‘drudging goblin’, who threshes the corn and does the domestic
work whilst the farmer and his household are asleep, was known in the
dialects as: Billy-blin (Sc.); Boman (Sh. & Or.I.); Brownie (Sc. Nhb.
n.Yks. Cor.); Dobbs, or Master Dobbs (Sus.); Grogan (Irel.); Hob, and
Hob-thrush, or Hob-thrust (n.Cy. dials.), cp. ‘Our own rustical
superstition of hobthrushes, fairies, goblins, and witches,’ Steele,
_Guardian_, 1713; the Leprachaun (Irel.), the fairy shoemaker;
Robin-round-cap (e.Yks.). This benevolent and humble sprite, though very
useful when properly treated, would disappear, or become openly
mischievous, if annoyed. Chief among the things whereat he would take
offence is the offering of recompense for his labours. A hob-thrust, who
used to wear an old tattered hat when at work, found a new one put for
him in his accustomed haunt, whereupon he straightway departed, crying:
New hat, new hood, hobthrush’ll do no more good. If the farmer or any of
his servants had spoken disrespectfully of the hobthrush, they would
presently find cream-pans smashed to atoms, horses and cattle turned
loose and driven into the woods, and the housewife’s churning would
produce no butter. Sometimes the Hob or Dobby (Yks. Lan.) is famous only
for whimsical pranks of this nature. The popular story of the goblin who
was so troublesome that the farmer and his family packed up their goods
and quitted the house, only to find that they were carrying the goblin
too amongst the household stuff, is also told of the north-country Hob.
I see you are flitting, said the neighbour, met by the way, Ay, we’s
flitting, came the voice of Hob from out of the churn. Weel, an’ thou’s
ganning teea, Ah’ll just awa’ back agen, rejoined the farmer. A certain
Yorkshire Hob, who had his dwelling in a cave, was noted for curing
children of the whooping-cough, when thus invoked by those who took them
to his abode: Hob-hole Hob! Mah bairn’s getten t’kin’-cough: Tak’ ’t
off! Tak’ ’t off! Though nowadays these sprites are dead and forgotten,
we occasionally find a trace of them preserved in a common phrase or
proverbial saying, for instance: Master Dobbs has been helping you
(Sus.), an expression used to a person who has done more work than was
expected. When a man boasts of being a good workman, as of the great
number of things which he can make in a day, some one will say: Ah, tha
can mak’ em faster nor Hob-thrust can throw shoes out o’ t’window
(w.Yks.).
Billy-winker (e.Lan.) is the mythical sprite that closes the eyes of
children at bedtime; the Dunnie (Nhb.) is a mischievous goblin related
to the Brownies; Peg o’ Nell (Yks. Lan.) is the sprite of the River
Ribble, as Peg Powler (Dur.) is of the River Tees, with her green
tresses, and her insatiable desire for human life. When foam floats on
the surface of the water it is Peg Powler’s cream, or Peg Powler’s suds.
Red-cap, or Red-capie-dossie (Sc. Lan.) is an elf supposed to haunt old
castles and ruins. When a person runs away from his work, people say
such a one has seen Red-cap. The Red-man (Nhp.) is an elf of solitary
habits residing in caves, old wells, &c. Thrummy-cap (n.Cy. Nhb.) was a
well-known local sprite who haunted the cellarage of old mansions. He
was supposed to wear a cap or bonnet made of _thrums_ or weavers’ ends.
Wryneck (Lan.) is one of those imaginary beings reputed to surpass the
Devil: He caps Wryneck, and Wryneck caps the Dule.
[Sidenote: _References to the Devil in Plant-names_
_Names of Birds assigned to the Devil_]
To trace all the references to the Devil, to tabulate all the dialect
sayings, and superstitions, and local legends relating to him, and
to see through these the various forms he takes in the popular
mind--whether beast with horns and hoofs, fiend, or giant--would be a
literary task in itself, and would fill a large volume. We can only
here point out a few of the many tracks wherein these allusions lie.
Obviously ‘the very old un’ is the original of most of the bogies
represented as waiting to carry off naughty children--Old Scratt,
Tantarabobus, and the rest which we have enumerated above. Among
dialect plant-names there are over fifty beginning with Devil-, not
counting those bearing one of his proper names, such as: Old Lad’s corn
(Shr.), the greater stitchwort; Owd Lad pea-cods (w.Yks.), the fruit of
the laburnum; Satan’s cherries (n.Yks.), the deadly nightshade. It will
be seen from the following examples that the plants associated with the
Devil all possess some objectionable quality; either they are weeds
obnoxious to the farmer, or they are inherently unpleasant to smell or
taste, or simply ugly to behold: Devil’s bit, or Devil’s bit scabis
(Sc. Yks. Lin. War. Wor. Shr. sw.Cy.), the blue scabious, perpetuates
a very old superstition, cp. ‘It is commonly called Divels bit, of the
root (as it seemeth) that is bitten off: for the superstitious people
hold opinion, that the diuell for enuie that he beareth to mankinde,
bit it off, because it would be otherwise good for many vses,’ Gerarde,
_Herb._ ed. 1633, cp. ‘_Mors du diable_, fore-bit, or devels-bit (an
herb),’ Cotgrave. The same plant is also known as Devil’s button
(Cor.), if picked, the Devil is said to appear at your bedside in
the night; Devil’s churnstaff (Irel. Shr.), the sun-spurge, probably
owes its name to the acrid milky juice contained in its stems; Devil’s
claws (Hmp. I.W.), the common crowfoot; Devil’s fingers (Nhp.), the
catkins of the black poplar, to pick them up is considered unlucky;
Devil’s garter (Wxf.), the great bindweed; Devil on all sides (w.Yks.),
Devil on both sides (Dur. War. Bck.), the common crowfoot, so called
from the hooks which surround the seeds and cause some difficulty in
separating them from the grains of corn; Devil’s posy (Shr.), the
broad-leaved garlic; Devil’s root (Ken.), the lesser broom-rape, very
destructive to clover; Devil’s snuff-box (n. s. and sw. dials.), the
puff-ball, from the snuff-like powder with which the fungus is charged
in its mature state, and to which very baneful properties are popularly
attributed; Devil’s stinkpot (Yks.), the stink-horn. In like manner
birds and insects are assigned to the Devil, for example: Devil’s bird
(Sc. Shr.), the magpie, believed to have a drop of the Devil’s blood
in its tongue; also applied to the yellow-hammer (n.Cy.), commonly
believed to drink a drop, some say three drops, of the Devil’s blood
every May morning; Devil’s coach-horse (Irel. Lin. Lei. Nhp. Wor. Shr.
Ken. Dev. Cor.), the rove-beetle, or common black cocktail, considered
a harbinger of ill-luck; Devil’s darning-needle (Lan.), the dragon-fly;
Devil’s finger-ring (Nhp.),--golden ring (Ess. Dev.),--ring (Brks. Hrf.
Wil.), the caterpillar of the great tiger-moth, concerning which a
current belief in Berkshire is that if you touch it, it will curl round
your finger and suck your blood; Devil’s pig (Oxf.), the woodlouse;
Devil’s screamer (ne.Yks.),--screecher (Hrf. Glo.),--shrieker
(w.Yks.),--squeaker (Lan.), the common swift, so named on account of
its long squeaks. No doubt its black colour, and impetuous flight, tend
to give it an uncanny appearance.
The deil gang wi’ ye, an’ saxpence, an’ ye’ll nether want money nor
company, is an Irish saying. What comes over the devil’s back goes under
his belly (Yks. Chs. Lin.) is a proverbial saying used in speaking of
ill-gotten gains. Much cry and little wool, as the devil said when he
shore the sow, is a Shropshire version of a familiar phrase. He likes
him as the devil likes holy water (w.Yks.) is equivalent to: he hates
him mortally. To say of a woman: shay’s as nassty as a devil unknobbed
(Lei.), implies that she is as dangerously spiteful as a devil with no
knobs on his horns.
[Sidenote: _Prodigious Feats of the Devil_]
The conception of the Devil as a giant capable of prodigious muscular
feats, but so dull of intellect that he is easily outwitted by the
simplest rustic, may be traced in the Devil’s Spadeful legend that
clings to certain isolated hills in different parts of the country. The
Devil’s Spadeful near Bewdley in Worcestershire is a sort of moated
mound, easily seen from the Bewdley-Kidderminster loop railway.
Tradition tells that the Devil was approaching Bewdley carrying a
spadeful of earth, with which he intended to dam up the Severn just
below the town, and so destroy it and all the inhabitants by a flood. At
the point where the mound now stands he met a cobbler, laden with a sack
of old boots and shoes which he was taking home to mend. The Devil had
lost his way, and was feeling weary under his burden, so he asked the
cobbler how far he must yet travel before reaching Bewdley. ‘I cannot
say how far it is,’ replied the cobbler, ‘I only know that I have worn
out all these boots and shoes on the road since I started.’ Whereupon
the Devil relinquished his project in despair, and threw down his
spadeful on the spot. Another version of the story adds that the cobbler
himself was buried under the mound. The present mound could quite well
suffice for a tumulus, but as a dam for the Severn it would seem
inadequate. The same story belongs also to the Wrekin. The Devil, having
a spite against the Mayor and all his people, wished to submerge the
town of Shrewsbury. After throwing down his load, which formed the
Wrekin, the Devil scraped his boots on his spade, and the mud which he
scraped off was such a pile that it made the little Ercall hill by the
Wrekin’s side. Silbury Hill near Devizes is said to possess a version of
this legend.
[Sidenote: _The Devil in Local Place-names_]
There are in various places isolated heaps of stones associated with
the Devil, and called Devil’s Lapfuls. One such heap exists in the
parish of Winsford in Somerset. It is a large scattered heap chiefly
of quartz boulders on the brow of a hill, and no stones of the like
formation are to be found anywhere near. It is said that the Devil
meant to build a bridge over the Barle, close by, with these stones,
which he had brought from a long distance, when his apron-string
broke, and the stones fell where they now are, and whence they cannot
be removed. Not to be altogether deterred from his purpose, the Devil
afterwards built the bridge called Tarr-steps with the great slabs
of slaty rock found on the spot. Not far from the village of Stanton
Harcourt near Oxford are three large stones known as the Devil’s
Quoits. According to local tradition, the Devil played here with a
beggar for his soul, and won by throwing these huge boulders.
A legend which connects the Devil with the building of a church may be
found all over England in varying forms. The site of the church having
been selected, stones were brought thither, and the work begun, but each
night the Devil came and carried the stones away, laying them down on
the spot where the church now stands. The workmen, tired of labouring in
vain, gave up the original site, and adopted that chosen by the Devil,
and thenceforth the building went on unmolested. In Shropshire the site
which cannot be built upon is always at the top of a hill, but this is
not invariably the case elsewhere.
[Sidenote: _Pixies and Fairies_]
It is difficult to classify all the supernatural beings known to
dialect lore, otherwise than very roughly, for even a cursory glance at
the whole mass of superstitions and fancies regarding them shows that
there is great confusion of idea between fairies and witches, bogies
and goblins. Sometimes it is the fairies who terrify the stabled horses
at night, sometimes it is a witch; here the benevolent Hob has been at
work, and there his doings are ascribed to a pixy. The following may,
however, rank as Fairies: the Derricks (Dev.), a species of dwarfish
fairies, of somewhat evil nature; Nanny Button-cap (w.Yks.), of whom
the children sing:
The moon shines bright,
The stars give light,
And little Nanny Button-cap
Will come to-morrow night.
Fenodyree, or Phynnodderee (I.Ma.), a fallen fairy, who was banished
from fairyland for having paid his addresses to a Manx maiden, and for
deserting the fairy court during the harvest moon to dance with her in
the Glen of Rushen. Stories are told of the great strength of Fenodyree.
On one occasion, when he was cutting grass, harrow-pins were placed in
the meadow to annoy him, but he cut them through without effort, merely
remarking: ‘Hard stalks, hard stalks.’ Gancanagh (Irel.), who appears in
lonesome valleys, and makes love to milkmaids. Collective names are: the
Fair Folk, or Gueede Neighbours (ne.Sc.), polite phrases used to avoid
mentioning the name Fairies, which they were supposed to dislike; the
Gentle People, or Gentry (Irel.), to whom old hawthorn trees growing
singly were sacred. An old man who ventured to cut down one such tree
was shortly afterwards stricken with rheumatic fever, and the
circumstance was declared to be a judgment of the gentry upon him.
Henkies (Sh. & Or.I.), so called because they were supposed to _henk_ or
limp when they danced, _Henkie knowes_ are the knolls round which these
trolls or fairies used to gambol at night; the Hill Folk (Sh.I. Lan.);
the Piskies, or Pixies (Sc. n. s. and sw.Cy.), believed in some
districts (Dev. Cor.) to be the souls of unbaptized children which have
become sprites; the Small Folk, or Small People (Cor.), supposed to have
dwindled in size, and turned into _muryans_ [ants], wherefore it is
deemed unlucky to destroy a colony of ants. Popular etymology has made
out of the common double plural form fairyses, a singular Pharisee (War.
Wor. e.An.), which among children gives rise to endless mistakes between
the fairies of the story-books and the Pharisees of the Bible.
[Sidenote: _The Fairies in Plant-names_]
The associating of the fairies with certain plants and fungi leads
to the formation of very picturesque plant-names, for example:
Fairy’s-bath, or Fairies’ bath (Sus. Hmp.), the fungus Jew’s ears, or
blood-cups; Fairy-butter (n.Cy. e.An. Hmp.), a species of fungus, of
yellowish colour and gelatinous consistence, found growing upon rotten
wood. The fairies are supposed to amuse themselves at night by flinging
their butter so as to make it adhere to gates and doors. It is thought
very lucky to find it inside a house. Fairy-bell (Irel.), Fairy-fingers
(Dur. Cum. n.Yks.), Fairy-glove (Irel. Dor.), Fairies’-petticoats
(Chs.), Fairy-thimbles (Cmb. Nrf. Ess.), the foxglove; Fairies’-table
(n.Wal.), the common mushroom; Fairy-cheeses (Yks.), the dwarf mallow;
Pixy-glove (Dev.), a thistle; Pixy (Dev.), the greater stitchwort,
concerning which children say that if you gather the flowers you will
be pixy-led; Pixy-pear (Hmp. Dev.), the hip, the fruit of the dog-rose,
or (Dor. Som.) the haw, the fruit of the hawthorn; Pixy-stool (Sc. Hmp.
Som. Dev. Cor.), a toadstool or mushroom. To pixy (w.Som.), or to go
pixy-wording, is to glean stray apples in an orchard after the trees
have been stripped. Fossil echini turned up by the plough, or found on
the sea-shore are termed Fairy-loaves, or Pharisee-loaves (Glo. e.An.).
There is a saying in Norfolk: If you keep a fairy-loaf you will never
want bread. The ‘green sour ringlets’ ‘whereof the ewe not bites’ are
still known as Fairy-rings (in gen. dial. use), or Pixy-rings (Som.
Dev.). It is thought safer to walk round them rather than across. Old
legends say that by running round a fairy-ring nine times on the first
night of the full moon, sounds of mirth and revelry may be heard from
the subterranean abode of the elves, who make this their dancing-green;
or again, that on peaceful nights faint echoes of music, and the
pattering of tiny feet, may be wafted down from the hill-sides. It
is said that the fairies were wont of old to wash their clothes in
Claymore Well (Yks.), and mangle them with the _bittle and pin_. The
_bittle_ is a heavy wooden battledore; the _pin_ is the roller; the
linen is wound round the latter, and then rolled backwards and forwards
on the table by pressure on the battledore. The strokes of the bittles
on fairy washing-nights could be heard a mile away. The following story
of a fairy in the capacity of the benevolent sprite used to be told
in one of the southern counties of England. Once upon a time there
was a young woman who married a thresher. Soon he turned out to be a
hopeless drunkard; his work was neglected, and starvation stared them
in the face. So the woman dressed herself in her husband’s clothes, and
went to the barn to do the threshing whilst he slept off the effects
of his drunkenness. On the morning of the second day she found her
pile of threshed corn double what she had left there overnight, and
this increase was repeated for three or four nights in succession. She
determined to watch one night and discover who was her unknown helper.
Presently she beheld a little pixy come into the barn, and set to work
vigorously to thresh the corn, and as he swung his flail he sang:
Little pixy fair and slim,
Without a rag to cover him.
[Sidenote: _Fairy Benevolence_]
Out of pity and gratitude, the woman next day made him a tiny suit of
clothes, and hung them up behind the barn door beside his flail. At
night when the pixy returned to work, he saw the clothes, and put them
on at once. Then, surveying himself with satisfaction, he sang:
Pixy fine and Pixy gay,
Pixy now must fly away.
With that he disappeared, and never came back any more.
[Sidenote: _Mischievous Fairies_]
Dr. Johnson defines ‘Fairy’ thus: ‘A kind of fabled beings supposed to
appear in a diminutive human form, and to dance in the meadows, and
reward cleanliness in houses.’ The reward was bestowed in the form of a
coin secretly placed in the shoe of the industrious servant, an ancient
belief which was, we are told, long kept alive by mistresses, who would
slip the expected coin into its place to encourage their servants
to industry. But the fairies did not everywhere possess only this
blameless reputation. Mischievous fairies were dreaded by the farmer’s
wife lest they should get into the dairy and spoil the cream. To keep
them away, every one who entered the dairy must stir up the cream with
the mundle (Wor.). A tangled knot in a horse’s mane was proof of their
having been in the stable, for this was the _pixy-seat_ (Dev.). A trace
of what Dr. Johnson calls ‘an odd superstitious opinion, that the
fairies steal away children, and put others that are ugly and stupid in
their places’, remains in the dialect saying: Bless th’ bairn, he must
hev been chaanged (Lin.), used when a child, generally good-tempered,
becomes suddenly irritable without any obvious reason. Country folk in
Cornwall used to put a prayer-book under a child’s pillow as a charm
to keep away the pixies. The still prevailing superstition that it is
unlucky for a woman after child-birth to go into anybody’s house--some
say even to cross her own threshold--before she goes to be churched,
is no doubt a remnant of the old belief that the mother until _kirk’t_
was not safe from the power of the fairies. People suddenly seized with
rheumatism, lumbago, paralysis, or fits were supposed to have been
shot at by malicious fairies, and when a prehistoric arrow-head of
flint or stone was picked up, it was alleged to be the fairy weapon,
the _awf-shot_ or fairy-dart. A hole in a deal board occasioned by the
dropping out of a shrunken knot, was regarded as the path of a fairy
shaft, and called an _awf-bore_. In Northumberland and Cumberland a
sudden attack of illness or disease is still spoken of as a _shot_,
e.g. a shot of rheumatics. The phrase Plaze God and the pigs (w.Som.)
is probably a reminiscence of the days when the pigseys or pixies were
regarded as powers which had to be reckoned with in ordinary daily
life. To laugh like a pixy (Dev. Cor.) is to laugh heartily, like the
merry elves of yore when they danced in the meadows by moonlight.
[Sidenote: _Belief in Witchcraft_]
The belief in witches as active personalities belongs, together with
the belief in fairies, to bygone generations, but its traces are
with us still. On the one hand there are the old words and phrases,
the husks of a once living seed, and on the other hand is the vague
superstitious dread of an evil influence which is none the less
real and potent because people have ceased to ascribe the dreaded
ill-luck to witchcraft and the evil eye. Among the plants associated
with witches are: Witch-bells (n.Cy.), the corn blue-bottle;
Witch’s-milk (Lan.), the common mare’s-tail; Witch’s-needles (Nhb.),
the shepherd’s needle; Witch’s-knot (Wm.), a bundle of matted twigs
which forms on the branches of birches and thorns. The fungus which
we have already noticed under the name Fairy-butter, is also known
as Witch’s-butter (Nhp. w.Cy.); and the purple foxglove is sometimes
called Witch’s-thimble (Sc. Nhb.). When horses break out into a sweat
in the stable, they are said to have been hag-rided (Som.); and
the tangled locks in their manes are the Witch’s-stirrups (Shr.).
In parts of Surrey and Sussex a Fairy-ring is called a Hag-track.
The shoulder-bones of a sheep are termed Hag-bones (Som.), because
formerly witches were believed to ride on them, and consequently it
was necessary to burn them. The ancient belief that the shells of
eggs used by the household were appropriated by the witches for boats
is still regarded in practice, the spoon must be thrust through the
bottom, or the shell crushed to pieces before it is thrown away, cp.
Sir Thomas Browne and his annotators: ‘To break the egg-shell after the
meat is out, we are taught in our childhood, and practise it all our
lives; which nevertheless is but a superstitious relique, according
to the judgment of Pliny ...; and the intent hereof was to prevent
witchcraft.’ ‘To keep the fairies out, as they say in Cumberland,’
Note (Jeff.); ‘Least they perchance might use them for boates (as they
thought) to sayle in by night,’ Note (Wr.), _Vulgar Errors_, Book V,
Chap. XXIII.
[Sidenote: _The Evil Eye_]
As ill as a witch (Chs.) is a phrase meaning very ill. As fause
[false, i.e. cunning] as a Pendle witch (Lan.) is a saying which
keeps on record the traditional association of Pendle Forest with
witches. It was there that the old custom called Lating [seeking]
the Witches used to be observed on All-hallows Eve, the night when
the witches were said to meet in the Forest. Lighted candles were
carried about the hills from eleven to twelve o’clock. If the witches
failed to extinguish a light, the bearer was safe from their power
for the season, but if the light went out, it portended evil. Persons
or things under the supposed influence of witchcraft or the evil eye,
were formerly said to be _blinked_ (Sc. Irel. Chs. Shr. e.An.), a
word which still remains in e.Anglia in the sense of soured, spoiled,
used of beer. The very common word _wisht_ (w. and sw. Cy.), meaning
unlucky, uncanny, also physically weak, sickly, haggard, is no
doubt originally _wished_, i.e. ill-wished, or bewitched. The terms
_overlooked_ (Sc. Irel. Yks. War. Shr. e.An. sw.Cy.), _overseen_ (Hrf.
Glo.), _overshadowed_ (Dev.) were certainly used in their original
sense of bewitched as late as the last two decades of the nineteenth
century, cp. ‘The last witness said deceased had been “overshadowed”
by some-one,’ _n.Dev. Herald_, June 25, 1896. A writer in to-day’s
_Times_, Feb. 21, 1912, regards the belief in this form of witchcraft
as still current: ‘We still hear of people in remote villages who
complain of being overlooked, and who actually pine away under the
belief that a spell has been cast upon them.’
[Sidenote: _Ill-Omens_]
A White Witch was a person, either man or woman, who was supposed to
possess the power of removing the spell, and of inflicting punishment
on the individual by whose malice the evil had been wrought. In return
for pecuniary considerations, the white witch dispensed oracular
wisdom, and remedies in the form of charms. As recently as the year
1890 a man who called himself ‘the White Witch of Exeter’ was convicted
on a charge of obtaining money by means of palmistry. Mrs. Sarah
Hewitt in her book on Devonshire customs and folk-lore--_Nummits and
Crummits_--writes: ‘In cases of sickness, distress, or adversity,
persons at the present time (A.D. 1898) make long expensive journeys
to consult the white witch, and to gain relief by his (or her) aid.’
The miscellaneous articles and medicaments advocated by the white witch
we shall notice later when we come to consider charms and cures.
Meanwhile let us first look at some of the many ways in which the old
fear of mysterious evil still shows itself, that fear which in spite
of our advances in education and civilization still makes men regard
trivial happenings with superstitious awe, and see omens of death and
ill-luck in the commonest things.