The northern counties of England have, through all historic record, and
in times previous from monumental evidence, been the scenes of constant
struggles, sometimes between the different tribes of the inhabitants
amongst themselves, or marauders; and at other times united as a people
opposing the invasions of foreign aggressors, as the Romans, and after
them the Scots, Picts, Angles, Saxons and Danes; each in their turn
conquering in whole or part, and so settling as a separate people, or
mingling with the previous inhabitants. How remote may have been the
influx of our first colonists we have no clue; but ethnologists agree
generally that these were the Hiberno-Celts, who came not later than
four centuries before our era. These came in from the north, generally
following and forming settlements along the hills and valleys. To them
is attributed the erection of the stone circles and several of the
mounds on our hilltops. As a natural consequence they were the first
to give names to the various natural objects. These, as in every new
country, are the hills, streams, valleys, and natural clearings in the
forests, which they called by words synonymous in their language. To
them belong such words as _knock_, (a hill). They, have, however, left
but few names, being found more on the east and west fell sides.
The next race were the Cambro-Celts, who have come in from the
south. These we trace in the name _Pen_ (a hill) as Penhurrock, and
the affix _Cum_, &c. Other tribes and people also mingled in the
country from various sources, forming what were called at the time
of the Roman invasion the Brigantes. During the Roman sway, which
in the north was not more than 350 years, little change would take
place in the real character of the inhabitants, as the Romans almost
never intermixed with the native population. It was probably thinned
of its inhabitants--not only from the draughting of young men for
foreign service in the army, but more particularly from the fearful
visitations of fire and sword on the revolting tribes, which was
often the case with the Brigantes. The Roman era, was, however, a
period of peace to the north compared with the succeeding 400 years,
during which time it was subject to various invasions, first from the
Picts and Scots, who ravaged the poor, helpless Britons, after the
withdrawal of the Roman legions, for upwards of 150 years. Then came
the Angles, who invaded from the east coast along the Roman roads.
The Saxons followed, amongst whom there were constant wars. After
them came the wildest and most erratic of all--the Danes. Under these
Gothic tribes other words were introduced and affixes added to older
names; villages and more permanent settlements began to be formed,
requiring definite names: thus we have the affixes _ton_ (Angle),
_ham_ (Saxon) and _by_ (Danish), meaning a town or settlement. Thus
each having a different language or dialect, words belonging to each
have been blended into one forming the present Westmorland dialect;
and so, as civilization advanced, and names were required, they have
been bestowed by each different race and retained to the present day;
and, what is a remarkable proof of the addition of names by different
races, we often find two or three syllables in one name, each given by
a different people, and yet each and all having the same meaning. The
names now borne by fields have generally been applied to the same land
for ages previous to its enclosure; and are consequently indicative of
the existence of some particular race of people; or it may be some
event. Others again bear peculiar names which they derive from some
remains, even though these have been removed. These are often from
mounds, as Affleber, a corruption from Anglebarrow; from earthworks,
as Borwans, or from stone circles, as Stannerstones. Another curious
fact is that many of these places where earthworks or mounds are
or have been are said to be haunted. Such is the case near Reagill
Grange, where a gate noiselessly is opened for the midnight passenger,
and again as noiselessly closed. At other places a figure suddenly
appears, passes by, and vanishes; sometimes a dog, swelling into an
enormous size; again a calf or black swine, and not unfrequently a
lady in white, whose antics are as various as her observers. This myth
of the midnight air has often appeared to belated travellers, who, on
daring her, have fallen victims to her fury. Major White of Reagill,
one night coming through Blinbeck on horseback, saw something white in
a tree, which he supposed to be a howlet. Having a gun with him, he
fired at it. With this salute it began to swell and grew bigger till
it took the form of a lady in white. She jumped on to the horse behind
him, and galloped him through hedge, ditch and brake at a terrible
speed. At last he landed home, his clothes torn to shreds, and his
horse panting and white with foam. Another boggle haunts Langland's
Geayte. This is supposed to be a Barghast from its peculiar _wawl_
or _beal_. One old man tells the story that he was coming along on
horseback with some sacks under him. On hearing the wawl he jumped
off, and pulled off his sacks, thinking some one had put a cat in;
he found none, but presently cats began to wawl on all sides of him.
He then knew it was the Barghast, so mounting his horse he made all
speed along the haunted lane. Another man walking in the same lane saw
something black in the middle of the road; he, foolhardy, punched at
it "an' wi' that it gev the awfullest beal. I tewk to my heels than,
for I knew 'twas a Barghast." He told his tale to an old neighbour next
morning, who replied "La, man' it'll be our cuddy, it niver come heayme
yesterday neet," so off they went to see; and the cuddy it certainly
had been. These appearances are often in the most lonely places, and
in many instances the memory of some deed has in the ghost survived
all remembrance of the action. Such is the case at Skellaw Quarry.
Here a black man was seen to glide from point to point of the rock,
and then mysteriously disappear, invariably at the same spot. It is
a curious fact that there, a few years ago, some quarrymen came upon
the skeletons of eleven human beings. These had been laid in an open
channel or crevice formed in the rock, and then covered up. One of
these had been highly jewelled, which bespoke considerable importance,
having gold rings and bracelets on his fingers and wrists, and bronze
earrings; the latter had discoloured the bones of the skull. The bones
were carefully taken up, and devoutly interred in Morland churchyard.
We do not know that the divine rites of the church were performed
over them, but "The Black Man" has never more been seen. Along with
the human bodies were also found the bones of the lower jaw and other
parts of a swine, the provisions doubtless of the party who, whether
explorers, merchants or hunters, have been fallen upon and murdered
by some band of marauders; but at what period there is no means of
ascertaining.
Between Reagill and Reagill Grange is a stone called "The Boggle
Steayne;" it is haunted by a black swine, which crosses before the seer
past the stone, and then vanishes in a deep pool of water. The stone
is of immense size, but is half buried in the earth. Upon its upper
surface is a natural mark resembling a footprint. This is said to have
been left by the boggle. Another was formerly seen on the school, and
another on the house between it and the stone; evident traces of some
spirit of evil or perhaps of good, and who, like the Brownie of Bledwock
.... though lang sen geayne
The mark o' his foot's left on mony a steayne.
In following up the history of a people we find that each age had
its characteristic superstitions, and supernatural appearances. The
remote inhabitants believed in the transmigration of souls, and the
return of the spirit to haunt its earthly tomb; these and the later
Scandinavian races, imaginative to a high degree, and whose religion
gave to every object and event a presiding spirit, have peopled our
hills and bye-places with boggles, which for ages have kept in awe the
minds of many successive generations. To such means, and the native
wild and superstitious feelings descended from our forefathers, may we
ascribe the belief in apparitions such as the reappearance of those
dead, the lady in white, black swine, wraiths, &c. From the older
religions we have the Barghast, the ghost of the tomb, whose unearthly
lamentations warn mortals of fell mishaps, the Taisteral, a mischievous
spirit of evil; the dobbies, brownies and fairies. In these mysterious
spirits of the night do we trace the imaginings of a people long gone,
whose works are almost lost; yet tradition has never failed to hand
them down and down from father to son, yet each time ebbing weaker and
weaker, till now the advance of the nineteenth century has marked the
bounds "Thus far shall they go and no further"; now no longer the ingle
newk resounds with the dread tales of a grandfather, and by the next
generation all this will be forgot.
During the Roman sway Christianity was introduced into Britain, but
it is highly probable that it took but little root in the North. The
faint gleam of the true faith, if ever it existed, would be completely
extinguished by the introduction of the Pagan creed of the Gothic
nations, to the deities of which we are indebted for the names of
the days of the week, and for several local names throughout the
country. This wild religion, however, eventually gave way before the
advance of Christianity, for about the year 630 when Edwin was king of
Northumbria, the true light of the cross was first introduced into the
north by Paulinus, who is said to have converted the Northumbrians.
He probably followed the example of Augustine, who, to bring from the
old idolatry and not to offend the feelings of the people, consecrated
the heathen temples, and observed the heathen festivals; but dedicated
to the observance of Christian saints. The next advance was to erect
rallying places of truly Christian origin; these were crosses of wood
or stone, which to this day remain in reality or in name in almost
every village. One has been erected at Crosby by some devoted to the
reformation of the people around, which would assemble the new converts
to hear discourses on the blessings and comforts of the new religion.
But this was not all straightforward. The country became subject to
the incursions of the Danes, who brought back the old religion in its
wildest and most erratic form. The infant Christianity fell before
them, and Paganism was again in the ascendancy. Such, as its name
implies, has been the case at Crosby Ravensworth. The Danes coming,
find here a village with the cross planted on the green. They, without
respect to rights of property or religion, throw down the cross, and
hoist their standard "The Raven" symbolical of the mighty Odin, in
its place.[6] The village, to its previous name of Crosby, receives
the further appellation of Raven's-warth (the village or place) thus
dedicating the valley to the presiding care of the Raven God. This,
with Ravengill and Ravencrag in Crosby Gill, and the more direct
name of Odin in Odindale, all indicate the ascendancy of that people
who in their plundering inroads fought under the banner dedicated and
sacred to the Warrior God. Christianity, however, again gleamed forth;
the crosses were renewed and others erected. One has existed, erected
on Maulds Meaburn green; the pedestal was found when the present
school was built, and there is authentic record that it stood there
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. A curious custom at one time existed
connected with these crosses. When a funeral procession passed, the
corpse was lowered and the people, uncovered, sung a hymn; this custom
is still remembered to have been observed in passing Meaburn by old
people, though no vestige of the cross remained, neither did anyone
know the origin of the observance,--an example of what we often find,
a custom existing when its origin and the object of its observance is
forgot. Another is also likely to have been on the hill bearing the
significant name of Cross Bank, near Reagill Grange. Thus Christianity
became firmly established, and wandering priests supported by the
voluntary contributions of his hearers went from place to place,
preaching the true faith, now holding forth from the steps of some
cross, or with his hearers beneath some wooden shed which received
the name of a church. A building of this character in all probability
answered that purpose at Crosby for many years previous to the erection
of the first stone structure. Churches were first built of stone
about the end of the seventh century, when Theodore was Archbishop
of Canterbury. He reformed the existing state of religion by having
stationary priests supported by a fixed salary raised by a tax called
"kirk scot" on all cultivated lands.[7] When the church at Crosby was
first built of stone, we have no record.
The condition of the people up to the time of the Norman Conquest had
made great advance since the first influx of the Saxons. A regular
government prevailed, and permanent settlements had been made. Nearly
all our villages may be traced back as having been first founded and
named in those times, and even many of the single houses betray in
the names a similar parentage. Cultivation was begun, and the land
divided into hundreds, tithings and hides. The choice of boundaries
is rather curious, and in some respects is proof of their antiquity.
The first objects chosen, when convenient, are rivers or streams; the
next landmarks are the wells and large boulders; of the former we have
examples in Gunnerskeld, Rudkeld, Anna's Keld and Ned's Well, &c. Of
the latter, in a district like this where large granite boulders are so
plentiful, they have often been chosen, and in the old boundary rolls
are called "Thunder Stones," the name by which granite boulders are
known in the neighbourhood. Some of the more remarkable are the Cross
Stone at Kiverriggs, where the parishes of Crosby, Shap and Morland
join; the Stooping Stone on Harkeld is by some thought to have been a
rocking stone; it is six feet high and lodged on a point of rock. It is
mentioned as a boundary in a grant made by Thomas son of Gospatric of
the manor of Hardendale to Byland Abbey.[8] Like all similar stones it
is said to be haunted, and also has a remarkable propensity of turning
once round every time it hears the cock crow! Another stone near Murber
bears the name of "The Dead Man's Grave;" it is small and has two
cavities in the top end, which gives it the resemblance of a skull.
The next objects chosen are the mounds or ancient burial places, and
occasionally the stone circles. These were then regarded with a fear
and sacred reverence which we might expect the common people of those
times, young in the belief of Christianity, would have for the numerous
monuments of their Pagan forefathers[9]; and it is quite probable that
even then the same mode of burial might be adhered to; consequently
these landmarks were as secure boundaries as either the wells or
rivers. Another boundary often adopted in elevated lands is the
watershedding line, or, according to the old wording, "where the water
falling from Heaven runs both ways." As a proof of the antiquity of
township boundaries it is worthy of remark that the manorial boundaries
which were made soon after the Norman Conquest very frequently do not
coincide, especially where the older boundaries have not been very
definite.
[6] Canon Weston gave as a possible meaning of the puzzling word
Ravensworth, "Hill of the Standard of the Raven," with the reservation
that this failed if the Danes did not reach here. Others think the
name is corrupted from Ravensthwaite, Raven's clearing. But far more
interesting than the meaning is the pains with which the author traces
out the historical steps by which the name, as he understands it, was
built up.
[7] According to Stubbs, the belief that Theodore was the founder
of the parochial system is mistaken; but his legislation aided its
development.
[8] The authority for this sentence is not clear, as the charter
granting Hardendale to Byland Abbey is not forthcoming. Perhaps Mr.
Bland has been misinformed by some one who had read the charter of
Thomas son of Gospatric granting to Shap Abbey the land on which the
abbey stood; here a "great stone" is mentioned, but this is between
Raset and the Lowther, quite a different spot. Mr. Bland is certainly
not responsible for the confusion.
[9] Prof. Boyd Dawkins relates a remarkable instance of this feeling
within living memory. About 1859 a Manx farmer offered up a calf as a
burnt sacrifice, to appease the spirits of the tumuli, disturbed by
archæological spade-work!