PART I.

SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEFS AND PRACTICES.

INTRODUCTION.

"'Tis a history

Handed from ages down; a nurse's tale

Which children open-eyed and mouth'd devour,

And thus, as garrulous ignorance relates,

We learn it and believe."

In this large section of the Folk-lore of Lancashire we propose to treat

of all the notions and practices of the people which appear to recognise

a supernatural power or powers, especially as aids to impart to man a

knowledge of the future. An alphabetical arrangement has been adopted,

which is to some extent also chronological. Beginning with the pretended

sciences or arts of Alchemy and Astrology, the succeeding articles treat

of Bells, Beltane fires, Boggarts, Charms, Demons, Divination, &c.

Many of these superstitions are important in an ethnological point of

view, and immediately place us _en rapport_ with those nations whose

inhabitants have either colonized or conquered this portion of our

country. In treasuring up these records of the olden times, tradition

has, in general, been faithful to her vocation. She has occasionally

grafted portions of one traditional custom, ceremony, or superstition,

upon another; but in the majority of cases enough has been left to

enable us to determine with considerable certainty the probable origin

of each. So far as regards the greater portion of our local Folk-lore,

we may safely assert that it is rapidly becoming obsolete, and many of

the most curious relics must be sought in the undisturbed nooks and

corners of the county. It is there where popular opinions are cherished

and preserved, long after an improved education has driven them from

more intelligent communities; and it is a remarkable fact that many of

these, although composed of such flimsy materials, and dependent upon

the fancies of the multitude for their very existence, have nevertheless

survived shocks by which kingdoms have been overthrown, and have

preserved their characteristic traits from the earliest times down to

the present.

As what are called the Indo-European, or Aryan, nations--viz., the

Celts, Greeks, Latins, Germans (Teuton and Scandinavian), Letts, and

Sclaves--as is now generally acknowledged, have a common ancestry in the

race which once dwelt together in the regions of the Upper Oxus, in

Asia; so their mythologies, however diverse in their later European

developments, may be regarded as having a common origin. Space will not

allow us to enlarge on this great subject, which has been ably treated

by Jacob Grimm, Dr. Adalbert Kuhn, and many other German writers, and of

which an excellent _résumé_ is given in Kelly's _Curiosities of

Indo-European Tradition and Folk-lore_.

When we refer to the ancient Egyptians, and to the oldest history

extant, we find some striking resemblances between their customs and our

own. The rod of the magician was then as necessary to the practice of

the art as it still is to the "Wizard of the North." The glory of the

art of magic may be said to have departed, but _the use of the rod_ by

the modern conjuror remains as a connecting link between the harmless

deceptions of the present, and that powerful instrument of the

priesthood in times remote. The divining rod, too, which indicates the

existence of a hidden spring, or treasure, or even a murdered corpse, is

another relic of the wand of the Oriental Magi. The divining cup, as

noticed in the case of Joseph and his brethren, supplies a third

instance of this close connexion. Both our wise men and maidens still

whirl the tea-cup, in order that the disposition of the floating leaves

may give them an intimation of their future destiny, or point out the

direction in which an offending party must be sought. We have yet

"wizards that do peep and mutter," and who profess to foretell future

events by looking "through a glass darkly." The practice of "causing

children to pass through the fire to Moloch," so strongly reprobated by

the prophet of old, may be cited as an instance in which Christianity

has not yet been able to efface all traces of one of the oldest forms of

heathen worship. Sir W. Betham has observed, in his _Gael and Cymbri_,

pp. 222-4, that "we see at this day fires lighted up in Ireland, on the

eve of the summer solstice and the equinoxes, to the Phœnician god

Baal; and they are called _Baal-tane_, or Baal's fire, though the

_object_ of veneration be forgotten." Such fires are still lighted in

Lancashire, on Hallowe'en, under the names of Beltains or Teanlas; and

even such _cakes_ as the Jews are said to have made in honour of the

Queen of Heaven, are yet to be found at this season amongst the

inhabitants of the banks of the Ribble. These circumstances may appear

the less strange when we reflect that this river is almost certainly the

Belisama of the Romans; that it was especially dedicated to the Queen of

Heaven, under the designation of Minerva Belisamæ; and that her worship

was long prevalent amongst the inhabitants of Coccium, Rigodunum, and

other Roman stations in the north of Lancashire. Both the fires and the

cakes, however, are now connected with superstitious notions respecting

Purgatory, &c., but their origin and perpetuation will scarcely admit of

doubt.

A belief in astrology and in sacred numbers prevails to a considerable

extent amongst all classes of our society. With many the stars still

"fight in their courses," and our modern fortune-tellers are yet ready

to "rule the planets," and predict good or ill fortune, on payment of

the customary fee. That there is "luck in _odd_ numbers" was known for a

fact in Lancashire long before Mr. Lover immortalized the tradition. Our

housewives always take care that their hens shall sit upon an _odd_

number of eggs; we always bathe _three_ times in the sea at Blackpool,

Southport, and elsewhere; and our names are called over _three_ times

when our services are required in courts of law. _Three_ times _three_

is the orthodox number of cheers; and we still hold that the _seventh_

son of a _seventh_ son is destined to form an infallible physician. We

inherit all such popular notions as these in common with the German and

Scandinavian nations; but more especially with those of the Saxons and

the Danes. Triads of leaders, or ships, constantly occur in their

annals; and punishments of _three_ and _seven_ years' duration form the

burden of many of the Anglo-Saxon and Danish laws.

A full proportion of the popular stories which are perpetuated in our

nurseries most probably date their existence amongst us from some

amalgamation of races; or, it may be, from the intercourse attendant

upon trade and commerce. The Phœnicians, no doubt, would impart a

portion of their Oriental Folk-lore to the southern Britons; the Roman

legions would leave traces of their prolific mythology amongst the

Brigantes and the Sistuntii; and the Saxons and the Danes would add

their rugged northern modifications to the common stock. The "History of

the Hunchback" is common to both England and Arabia; the "man in the

moon" has found his way into the popular literature of almost every

nation with which we are acquainted; "Cinderella and her slipper" is

"The little golden shoe" of the ancient Scandinavians, and was equally

familiar to the Greeks and Romans; "Jack and the bean-stalk" is told in

Sweden and Norway as of "The boy who stole the giant's treasure;" whilst

our renowned "Jack the giant-killer" figures in Norway, Lapland, Persia,

and India, as the amusing story of "The herd boy and the giant." The

labours of Tom Hickathrift are evidently a distorted version of those of

Hercules; and these again agree in the main with the journey of Thor to

Utgard, and the more classical travels of Ulysses. In Greece the clash

of the elements during a thunderstorm was attributed to the chariot

wheels of Jove; the Scandinavians ascribed the sounds to the ponderous

wagon of the mighty Thor; our Lancashire nurses _Christianize_ the

phenomenon by assuring their young companions, poetically enough, that

thunder "is the noise which God makes when passing across the heavens."

The notion that the gods were wont to communicate knowledge of future

events to certain favoured individuals appears to have had a wide range

in ancient times; and this curiosity regarding futurity has exerted a

powerful influence over the minds of men in every stage of civilization.

Hence arose the consulting of oracles and the practice of divination

amongst the ancients, and to the same principles we must attribute the

credulity which at present exists with respect to the "_wise men_" who

are to be found in almost every town and village in Lancashire. The

means adopted by some of the oracles when responses were required,

strangely remind us of the modern feats of ventriloquism; others can be

well illustrated by what we now know of mesmerism and its kindred

agencies; whilst these and clairvoyance will account for many of those

where the agents are said by Eustathius to have spoken out of their

bellies, or breasts, from oak trees, or been "cast into trances in which

they lay like men dead or asleep, deprived of all sense and motion; but

after some time returning to themselves, gave strange relations of what

they had seen and heard."

The ancient Greeks and Romans regarded dreams as so many warnings; they

prayed to Mercury to vouchsafe to them a night of good dreams. In this

county we still hold the same opinions; but our country maidens, having

Christianized the subject, now invoke St. Agnes and a multitude of other

saints to be similarly propitious. There are many other points of

resemblance between the Folk-lore of Lancashire and that of the

ancients. Long or short life, health or disease, good luck or bad, are

yet predicted by burning a lock of human hair; and the fire is

frequently poked with much anxiety when testing the disposition of an

absent lover. Many persons may be found who never put on the _left_ shoe

first; and the appearance of a _single_ magpie has disconcerted many a

stout Lancashire farmer when setting out on a journey of business or

pleasure. In the matter of sneezing we are just as superstitious as when

the Romans left us. They exclaimed, "May Jove protect you," when any one

sneezed in their presence, and an anxious "God bless you" is the common

ejaculation amongst our aged mothers. To the same sources we may

probably attribute the apprehensions which many Lancashire people

entertain with respect to spilling the salt; sudden silence, or fear;

lucky and unlucky days; the presence of thirteen at dinner; raising

ghosts; stopping blood by charms; spitting upon, or drawing blood from

persons in order to avert danger; the evil eye; and a multitude of

other minor superstitions. We possess much of all this in common with

the Saxons and the Danes, but the original source of a great, if not the

greater portion, is probably that of our earliest conquerors.

Divination by means of the works of Homer and Virgil was not uncommon

amongst the ancients; the earlier Christians made use of the Psalter or

New Testament for such purposes. In Lancashire the Bible and a key are

resorted to, both for deciding doubts respecting a lover, and also to

aid in detecting a thief. Divination by water affords another striking

parallel. The ancients decided questions in dispute by means of a

tumbler of water, into which they lowered a ring suspended by a thread,

and having prayed to the gods to decide the question in dispute, the

ring of its own accord would strike the tumbler a certain number of

times. Our "Lancashire witches" adopt the same means, and follow the

Christianized formula, with a wedding-ring suspended by a hair, whenever

the time before marriage, the number of a family, or even the length of

life, becomes a matter of anxiety.

Most nations, in all ages, have been accustomed to deck the graves of

their dead with appropriate flowers, much as we do at present. The last

words of the dying have, from the earliest times, been considered of

prophetic import; and according to Theocritus, some one of those

present endeavoured to receive into his mouth the last breath of a dying

parent or friend, "as fancying the soul to pass out with it and enter

into their own bodies." Few would expect to find this singular custom

still existing in Lancashire; and yet such is the fact. Witchcraft can

boast her votaries in this county even up to the present date, and she

numbers this practice amongst her rites and ceremonies.

A very large portion of the Lancashire Folk-lore is identical in many

respects with that which prevailed amongst the sturdy warriors who

founded the Heptarchy, or ruled Northumbria. During the Saxon and Danish

periods their heathendom had a real existence. Its practices were

maintained by an array of priests and altars, with a prescribed ritual

and ceremonies; public worship was performed and oblations offered with

all the pomp and power of a church establishment. The remnants of this

ancient creed are now presented to us in the form of popular

superstitions, in legends and nursery tales, which have survived all

attempts to eradicate them from the minds of the people. Christ, his

apostles, and the saints, have supplanted the old mythological

conceptions; but many popular stories and impious incantations which now

involve these sacred names were formerly told of some northern hero, or

perhaps invoked the power of Satan himself. The great festival in honour

of Eostre may be instanced as having been transferred to the Christian

celebration of the resurrection of our Lord; whilst the lighting of

fires on St. John's eve, and the bringing in of the boar's head at

Christmas, serve to remind us that the worship of Freja is not extinct.

When Christianity became the national religion, the rooted prejudices of

the people were evidently respected by our early missionaries, and hence

the curious admixture of the sacred and the profane, which everywhere

presents itself in our local popular forms of expression for the

pretended cure of various diseases. The powers and attributes of Woden

and Freja are attributed to Jesus, Peter, or Mary; but in all other

respects the spells and incantations remain the same.

Our forefathers appear to have possessed a full proportion of those

stern characteristics which have ever marked the Northumbrian

population. Whatever opinions they had acquired, they were prepared to

hold them firmly; nor did they give up their most heathenish practices

without a struggle. Both the "law and the testimony" had to be called

into requisition as occasion required; and even the terrors of these did

not at once suffice. In one of the Anglo-Saxon _Penitentiaries_, quoted

by Mr. Wright in his _Essays_, we find a penalty imposed upon those

women who use "any witchcraft to their children, or who draw them

through the earth at the meeting of roads, because that is great

heathenishness." A Saxon _Homily_, preserved in the public library at

Cambridge, states that divinations were used, "through the devil's

teaching," in taking a wife, in going a journey, in brewing, when

beginning any undertaking, when any person or animal is born, and when

children begin to pine away or to be unhealthy. The same _Homily_ also

speaks of divination by fowls, by sneezing, by horses, by dogs howling,

and concludes by declaring that "he is no Christian who does these

things." In a Latin _Penitentialia_ now in the British Museum, we find

allusions to incantations for taking away stores of milk, honey, or

other things belonging to another, and converting them to our own use.

He who rides with Diana and obeys her commands, he who prepares _three_

knives in company in order to predestine happiness to those born there,

he who makes inquiry into the future on the first day of January, or

begins a work on that day in order to secure prosperity during the whole

of the year, is pointed out for reprobation; whilst hiding charms in

grass, or on a tree, or in a path, for the preservation of cattle,

placing children in a furnace, or on the roof of a house, and using

characters for curing disease, or charms for collecting medicinal herbs,

are enumerated, for the purpose of pointing out the penances to be

undergone by those found guilty of "such heinous sins." Nearly all these

instances may be said to belong to the transition state of our

Folk-lore, and relate at once both to the ancient and the modern

portions of our subject. We have seen that much the same practices were

used by the Greeks and Romans; and it is a curious fact that many of the

more important are still in vogue amongst the peasantry of Lancashire.

Many persons will still shudder with apprehension if a dog howl during

the sickness of a friend: dragging a child across the earth at "four

lane ends" is yet practised for the cure of whooping-cough: fern seed is

still said to be gathered on the Holy Bible, and is then believed to be

able to render those invisible who will dare to take it. We still have

prejudices respecting the first day of the new year; black-haired

visitors are most welcome on the morning of that day; charms for the

protection of families and cattle are yet to be found; and herbs for the

use of man and beast are still collected when their "proper planets are

ruling" in the heavens. More copies of Culpepper's _Herbal_ and Sibley's

_Astrology_ are sold in Lancashire than all other works on the same

subjects put together, and this principally on account of the planetary

influence with which each disease and its antidote are connected. Old

Moore's _Almanac_, however, is now sadly at a discount, because it lacks

the table of the Moon's signs; the farmers are consequently at a loss to

know which will be healthy cattle, and hence they prefer a spurious

edition which supplies the grave omission.

Several lucky stones for the protection of cattle have, within a few

years past, been procured by the writer from the "shippons" of those

who, in other respects, are not counted behind the age; and it would

have been easy to collect an ample stock of horse-shoes and rusty

sickles from the same sources. However, during the last forty years the

inhabitants of Lancashire have made rapid progress both in numbers and

intelligence. They have had the "schoolmaster abroad" amongst them, and

have consequently divested themselves of many of the grosser

superstitions which formed a portion of the popular faith of their

immediate predecessors; but there is yet a dense substratum of popular

opinions existing in those localities which have escaped the renovating

influences of the spindle or the rail. As time progresses many of these

will become further modified, or perhaps totally disappear; and hence it

may be desirable to secure a permanent record of the customs and

superstitions of the county.

As to the most ancient forms of religious belief or cult, we may surely

assume that the _simple_ must of necessity precede the _complex_, and

consequently the idea of _one_ supernatural Being must be anterior in

point of time to that of _two_ or more. Under this view, the good and

the evil principles would form the second stage of development--a

necessary consequence of increased observation--and, accordingly, we

find the Great Spirit and his Adversary among the prevailing notions of

some of the least civilized communities. A gradual progression from one

to many gods appears to have been the natural process by which all known

mythologies have been formed. The tendency of observation to multiply

causes, real or ideal, and to personify ideas, may be ranked as one of

the tendencies of unassisted human nature; and the operation of this

natural force must have been equally efficient at all times and in all

countries. In the early stages of social improvement, man would be very

forcibly affected by natural phenomena. The regular succession of day

and night--the order of the seasons--the heat of summer--the cold of

winter--storms and tempests on sea and land--the sensations of pleasure

and pain, hope and fear--would each impress him with ideas of effects

for which he could assign no adequate causes; but having become

susceptible of supernatural influences, the addition of imaginary beings

to his mythology would keep pace with his experience, until every

portion of the heavens, the earth, and the sea, was peopled with, and

presided over, by its respective deity or demi-god. Thus it was that the

rolling thunder and the "lightning's vivid flash" suggested the idea of

a Jupiter grasping his destructive bolts, or of a Thor wielding his

ponderous hammer. The "raging tempest" and the "boiling surge" gave

birth to a Neptune or Njörd, each endowed with attributes suited to the

aspects of the locality where the observations were made, and specially

adapted to the intellectual condition of the community which first

deified the conception. As society progressed in civilization, so did

the study of philosophy and religion. The poets and the priests,

however, did not entrust their speculations to the judgment of the

people; they were too sensible of the power which secrecy conferred upon

their occult pursuits, and hence they allegorized their conceptions of

supernatural agencies, and also their ideas of the ordinary operations

of nature and art. The elements were spoken of as persons, and the

changes which these underwent were regarded as the actions of

individuals; and these in the lapse of ages, by losing their esoteric

meaning, came to be considered as realities, and so passed into the

popular belief. This is eminently the case with the northern mythology,

respecting which we are at present more particularly concerned; for by

far the greater portion of these highly poetical, though rugged myths,

admit of a very plausible and rational explanation on astronomical and

physical principles.[1] Whether this was equally the case with the Greek

and Roman mythologies is now, perhaps, more difficult to determine.

Enough, however, remains in the etymology of the names to prove that

both these and the northern systems had much in common. The fundamental

conceptions of each possess the same leading characteristics; and both

are probably due to the conquering tribes who migrated into Europe from

the fertile plains of Central Asia.[2]

During these early ages, war was considered to be the most honourable

occupation. Valour constituted the highest virtue; and in the absence of

all written records, tradition, in course of time, would add

considerably to the prowess of any daring chieftain. A mighty conqueror

would be considered by his followers as something more than human. The

fear of his enemies would clothe him with attributes peculiar to their

conceptions of inferior deities; and this, together with the almost

universal "longing after immortality" which seems to pervade society in

all its stages, sufficiently accounts for the origin of the heroes and

heroines--the demi-gods and goddesses of every mythology. Hence

Hercules--the younger Odin--and a numerous train of minor worthies to

whom divine honours were decreed in the rituals of Italy and of the

north.

On the introduction of Christianity, a powerful reactionary force was

brought into the popular belief, and many of its grosser portions were

speedily eliminated. The whole of the mythological creations were

divided into two distinct classes, according to the attributes for which

they were more particularly distinguished. Those whose tendencies

inclined towards the benefit of mankind were translated to heavenly

mansions, with God as supreme; whilst the wickedly disposed were

consigned to the infernal regions, under the dominion of the Devil. The

festivals of the gods were transformed into Christian seasons for

rejoicing, their temples became churches, and the names of Christ, his

apostles, the Virgin Mary, and the saints, took the places of those of

Jupiter, Mercury, Thor, Freja, and Woden. All the inferior deities that

presided over the woods, the mountains, the seas, and the rivers, were

degraded into demons, and were classed amongst those fallen spirits who

are employed by the evil one to harass and deceive mankind. Our early

missionaries, however, had studied human nature too well to attempt too

violent a change. They contented themselves, for the most part, with

diverting the current of thought into different channels; they gave

_new_ names to _old_ conceptions, and then left their more rational and

more powerful faith to produce its known effects upon the superstitions

of the masses. But the habits and opinions of a people who have long

been under the influence of any mythological system, have become too

deeply rooted to admit of easy eradication; and hence, in our own

country, as in others, the transition from heathenism to Christianity

was effected by almost imperceptible steps.

There are, however, many points of resemblance between the early

Scandinavian and the Roman mythologies. Both had probably a common

origin, but each became modified by increased civilization and the

character of the localities occupied by each succeeding wave of a

migratory population. "Every country in Europe," says the learned editor

of Warton's _History of Poetry_, "has invested its popular belief with

the same common marvels: all acknowledge the agency of the lifeless

productions of nature; the intervention of the same supernatural

machinery; the existence of elves, fairies, dwarfs, giants, witches,

wizards, and enchanters; the use of spells, charms, and amulets." The

explosions and rumbling sounds occasionally heard in the interior of

Etna and Stromboli were attributed, in ancient times, to the rage of

Typhon, or the labours of Vulcan: at this day, the popular belief

connects them with the suffering souls of men in the infernal regions.

"The marks which natural causes have impressed upon the unyielding

granite were produced, according to the common creed, by the powerful

hero, the saint or the god, and large masses of stone, resembling

domestic implements in form, were the toys or the tools of the demi-gods

and giants of old. The repetition of the voice among the hills of

Scandinavia is ascribed by the vulgar to the dwarfs mocking the human

speaker; in England the fairies are said to perform the same exploits;

while the more elegant fancy of Greece gave birth to Echo, a nymph who

pined for love, and who still fondly repeats the accents that she hears.

The magic scenery occasionally presented on the waters of the Straits of

Messina is ascribed by popular opinion to the power of the Fata Morgana;

the gossamer threads which float through the haze of an autumnal morning

are [in Lancashire also] supposed to be woven by the ingenious dwarfs;

the verdant circlets in the dewy mead are traced beneath the light steps

of the dancing elves; and St. Cuthbert is said to forge and fashion the

beads that bear his name, and lie scattered along the shores of

Lindisfarne."[3] If we draw our parallels a little closer, we shall

find, as has been well observed, that "the Nereids of antiquity are

evidently the same with the Mermaids of the British and northern shores:

the inhabitants of both are placed in crystal caves, or coral palaces,

beneath the waters of the ocean; they are alike distinguished for their

partialities to the human race, and their prophetic powers in disclosing

the events of futurity. The Naiades differ only in name from the Nixens

of Germany, the Nisses of Scandinavia, or the Water-elves of the British

Isles. The Brownies are of the same kindred as the Lares of Latium [and

these agree exactly with the Portuni mentioned by Gervase of Tilbury in

his _Otia Imperialis_]. The English Puck [the Lancashire Boggart], the

Scotch Bogle, the French Goblin, the Gobelinus of the Middle Ages, and

the German Kobold, are probably only varied names for the Grecian

Khobalus, whose sole delight consisted in perplexing the human race, and

evoking those harmless terrors that constantly hover round the minds of

the timid. So, also, the German Spuck, and the Danish Spogel, correspond

with the more northern Spog; whilst the German Hudkin, and the Icelandic

Puki, exactly answer to the character of the English Robin

Goodfellow."[4] Our modern devil, with his horns and hoof, is derived

from the Celtic Ourisk and the Roman Pan.

Some of our elves and satyrs are arrayed in the costumes of Greece and

Rome; and the Fairy Queen, with her attendants, have at times too many

points of resemblance to escape being identified as Diana and her

nymphs. The Roman Jupiter, by an easy transformation, becomes identical

with the Scandinavian Thor--the thunderbolt and chariot of the former

corresponding to the hammer and wagon of the latter. Odin takes the

place of Mercury. Loki is the same as Lucifer, for, like him, he was

expelled from heaven for disobedience and rebellion. Hother encountered

Thor, as Diomede did Mars. "The Grendels of the north answer to the

Titans of the south; they were the gods of nature to our

forefathers--the spirits of the wood and wave." Jupiter's eagle, the

war-sign of the Romans, is similar in character to Odin's raven among

the Danes; both nations considered that if the bird appeared to flutter

its wings on the banners, conquest was certain; but if they hung

helplessly down, defeat would surely follow. Warcock Hill, on the

borders of Lancashire and Yorkshire, has probably derived its name from

the unfurling of this terrible ensign during the conflicts between the

Saxons and the Danes for the possession of Northumbria;--the local

nomenclature of the district attests the presence of colonists from both

nations, and extensive traces of their fortifications still remain as

evidence that our slopes and hill-tops formed at once the battle-fields

and the strongholds of the country.

The power of the Devil, his personal appearance and the possibility of

bartering the soul for temporary gain, must still be numbered among the

articles of our popular faith. Repeating the Lord's Prayer backwards is

said to be the most effectual plan for causing him to rise from beneath;

but when the terms of the bargain are not satisfactory, his exit can

only be secured by making the sign of the cross and calling on the name

of Christ.[5]

When we come to examine the miscellaneous customs and superstitions of

the county, we find many remarkable traces of a former belief. Tradition

has again been true to her vocation; and in several instances has been

most careful to preserve the _minutiæ_ of the mode of operation and

supposed effects of each minor spell and incantation. The principal

difficulty now lies in the selection; for the materials are so plentiful

that none but the most striking can be noticed. Among these we observe

that, a ringing in the ears; shooting of the eyes; throwing down, or

spilling the salt; putting on the left shoe first; lucky and unlucky

days; pouring melted lead into water; stopping blood by means of charms;

the use of waxen images; enchanted girdles; and lovers' knots, are all

observed and explained almost exactly as amongst the Greeks and Romans.

The details in many have been preserved to the very letter, whilst the

supposed effects are exactly the same both in the ancient and modern

times. Our marriageable maidens never receive knives, or any pointed

implements, from their suitors, for the very same reason that such

presents were rejected by their Scandinavian ancestors--they portend a

"breaking off" in the matrimonial arrangements, and are notorious for

"severing love."

"If you love me as I love you,

No knife shall cut our love in two."

We never return thanks for a loan of pins. A "winding sheet" on the

candle forebodes death; and dogs howling indicate a similar calamity.[6]

Almost every one is aware that cuttings of human hair ought always to be

burnt; that if _thirteen_ sit down to dinner one of them will die before

the end of the year; that it is unlucky to meet a woman the first thing

in the morning; and that a horse-shoe nailed or let into the step of

the door will prevent the entrance of any evil-disposed person. We have

probably derived nearly the whole of these notions from the Scandinavian

settlers in the North of England. They considered it quite possible too

to raise the Devil by the same means now practised by our "wise men;"

and after their conversion to Christianity they are known to have marked

their dough with a cross in order to ensure its rising--a practice which

many of our country matrons still retain. Sodden bread is always

considered to be bewitched, provided the yeast be good, and hence the

necessity for the protection of the cross.

We always get out of bed either on the right side, or with the right

foot first; we take care not to cross two knives on the table; mothers

never allow a child to be weighed soon after its birth; our children

still blow their ages at marriage from the tops of the dandelion; and

all these for similar reasons, and with similar objects, to those of the

peasantry of Northumbria during the period of Danish rule. They supposed

that the dead followed their usual occupations in the spirit-world, and

hence, probably, the weapons of war and the implements of domestic life

which we find amongst the ashes of their dead. They were also of opinion

that buried treasure caused the ghosts of the owners to haunt the places

of concealment; and many of our country population retain the same

opinions without the slightest modification.

The Folk-lore of dreams is an extensive subject, and would require a

series of essays for its full elucidation. The _Royal Dream Book_, and

_Napoleon's Book of Fate_, command an extensive sale amongst our

operatives, and may be consulted for additional information. Our country

maidens are well aware that _triple_ leaves plucked at hazard from the

common ash, are worn in the breast for the purpose of causing prophetic

dreams respecting a dilatory lover. The leaves of the yellow trefoil are

supposed to possess similar virtues; and the Bible is not unfrequently

put under their pillows with a crooked sixpence placed on the 16th and

17th verses of the first chapter of Ruth, in order that they may both

dream of, and see, their future husbands. "Opening the Bible for

direction" is still practised after any troublesome dream, or when about

to undertake any doubtful matter. To dream of the teeth falling out

betokens death, or the loss of a lawsuit. Other signs of death are

dreaming of seeing the Devil; or hearing a sound like the stroke of a

wand on any piece of furniture. The proverb that "lawyers and asses

always die in their shoes," is invariably quoted when any sudden

calamity befalls one of the profession.

Like the ancients, the folk of Lancashire have various superstitious

observances and practices connected with the moon, especially with the

new moon. Christmas thorns are said to blossom only on _Old_ Christmas

Day; and persons will go considerable distances at midnight in order to

witness the blossoming. Oxen, too, are supposed to acknowledge the

importance of the Nativity of Christ, by going down on their knees at

the same hour; and this is often quoted as a proof that our legislators

were wrong in depriving our forefathers of their "eleven days" when the

new style was enforced by Act of Parliament.[7]

Some of our farmers are superstitious enough to hang in the chimney a

portion of the flesh of any animal which has died of distemper, as a

protection from similar afflictions; they also preserve with great care

the membrane which sometimes envelopes a newly born foal, in the hope

that it will ensure them good luck for the future. Sailors do not like

to set sail on a Friday. Servant girls will rarely enter upon a new

service either on a Friday, or on a Saturday: should they do so, they

have an opinion that they will disagree with their mistresses and "not

stay long in place." Most females entertain strong objections against

giving evidence, or taking oaths, before the magistrates, when

_enceinte_. At Burnley, not long ago, a witness in a case of felony was

threatened with imprisonment before she would comply with the necessary

forms. All children that are born in the twilight of certain days are in

consequence supposed to be endowed with the faculty of seeing spirits;

and some of our "wise men" take advantage of this, and persuade their

dupes that they were so circumstanced at birth.

Such instances might be multiplied to an almost indefinite extent, did

space permit; but the preceding will suffice to prove both the probable

origin and prevalence of many of our popular superstitions. To a greater

or less extent their influence pervades all classes of society; and he

who would elevate the intellectual condition of the people must not

neglect this thick stratum of _common notions_ which underlies the

deepest deposits of mental culture. As a recent writer in the _Quarterly

Review_ reports of Cornwall, so we may state of Lancashire:--"Pages

might be filled, not with mere legends wrought up for literary purposes,

but with serious accounts of the wild delusions which seem to have lived

on from the very birth of Pagan antiquity, and still to hold their

influence among the earnest and Christian people of this portion of

England.... Superstition lives on, with little abatement of vitality, in

the human heart. In the lower classes it wears its old fashions, with

very slow alterations--in the higher, it changes with the rapidity of

modes in fashionable circles. We read with a smile of amusement and

pity, the account of some provincial conjuror, who follows, with slight

changes, the trade of the Witch of Endor; and we then compose our

features to a grave expression of interest--for so society requires--to

listen to some enlightened person's description of the latest novelties

in table-turning or spirit-rapping; or to some fair patient's account of

her last conversation with her last quack-doctor."

The labours of Croker, Keightley, Thorpe, and Kemble, following in the

wake of the Brothers Grimm, have added considerably to our knowledge of

the Folk-lore of the North of Europe; but much yet remains to be

collected before the subject can be examined in all its bearings.

It is hoped that in the following pages the facts collected will suffice

to prove that the superstitious beliefs, observances, and usages of

Lancashire are by no means unworthy of the attention of the antiquary,

the ethnologist, or the historian.

LANCASHIRE ALCHEMISTS.

Alchemy (from _al_, Arab. the, and χημεία, chemistry), the pretended

art of transmuting the inferior metals into gold or silver, by means of

what was called the Philosopher's Stone, or the powder of projection, a

red powder possessing a peculiar smell, is supposed to have originated

among the Arabians; Geber, an Arabian physician of the seventh century,

being one of the earliest alchemists whose works are extant; but written

so obscurely as to have led to the suggestion that his name was the

origin of our modern term _gibberish_, for unintelligible jargon. A

subsequent object of alchemy was the discovery of a universal medicine,

the _Elixir Vitæ_, which was to give perpetual life, health, and youth.

The Egyptians are said to have practised alchemy; and Paulus Diaconus, a

writer of the eighth century, asserts that Dioclesian burned the library

of Alexandria, in order to prevent the Egyptians from becoming learned

in the art of producing at will those precious metals which might be

employed as "the sinews of war" against himself.[8] The earliest English

writer on alchemy was probably St. Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury, in

the tenth century. "He who shall have the happiness to meet with St.

Dunstan's work, 'De Occulta Philosophia' [that on the 'Philosopher's

stone' is in the Ashmole Museum], may therein read such stories as will

make him amazed to think what stupendous and immense things are to be

performed by virtue of the Philosopher's Mercury."[9] A John Garland is

also said to have written on alchemy and mineralogy prior to the

Conquest.[10] Alchemy was much studied in conventual establishments[11]

and by the most learned doctors and schoolmen, and the highest Church

dignitaries--nay, even by kings and popes. Albertus Magnus, a German,

born in 1282, wrote seven treatises on alchemy; and Thomas Aquinas "the

angelic doctor" (said to have been a pupil of Albert), wrote three works

on this subject. Roger Bacon ("Friar Bacon"), born at Ilchester in 1214,

though he wrote against the folly of believing in magic, necromancy, and

charms, nevertheless had faith in alchemy; and his chemical and

alchemical writings number eighteen. Of his _Myrrour of Alchemy_, Mr. J.

J. Conybeare observes, "Of all the alchemical works into which I have

been occasionally led to search, this appears the best calculated to

afford the curious reader an insight into the history of the art, and of

the arguments by which it was usually attacked and defended. It has the

additional merit of being more intelligible and more entertaining than

most books of the same class."[12]

Raymond Lully, born at Majorca in 1235, is said to have been a scholar

of Roger Bacon, and to have written nineteen works on alchemy. Arnoldus

de Villa Nova, born in 1235, amongst a number of works on this subject,

wrote _The Rosarium_, a compendium of the alchemy of his time. He died

in 1313, on his way to visit Pope Clement V. at Avignon. Another pope,

John XXII., professed and described the art of transmuting metals, and

boasts in the beginning of his book that he had made two hundred ingots

of gold, each weighing one hundred pounds. Among English alchemists of

the fourteenth century may be mentioned Cremer, abbot of Westminster

(the disciple and friend of Lully), John Daustein, and Richard, who both

practised and wrote upon the "hermetic philosophy," as it was termed. In

the fifteenth century was born George Ripley, a canon registrar of

Bridlington, who wrote the _Medulla Alchymiæ_ (translated by Dr. Salmon

in his _Clavis_), and another work in rhyme, called "The Compound of

Alchemie," which was dedicated to Edward IV. Dr. John Dee (born 1527),

the warden of Manchester College, and his assistant, or "seer," Edward

Kelly (born 1555), were both avowed alchemists. Dee wrote a _Treatise of

the Rosie Crucian Secrets, their excellent methods of making Medicines

and Metals_, &c. Ashmole says of him, that "some time he bestowed in

vulgar chemistry, and was therein master of divers secrets: amongst

others, he revealed to one Roger Cooke 'the great secret of the elixir'

(as he called it) 'of the salt of metals, the projection whereof was

one upon a hundred.'[13]

"'Tis generally reported that Dr. Dee and Sir Edward Kelly were so

strangely fortunate as to find a very large quantity of the elixir in

some parts of the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey." It had remained here,

perhaps, ever since the time of the highly gifted St. Dunstan, in the

tenth century.[14] The great Lord Bacon relates the following story in

his _Apothegms_:--

"Sir Edward Dyer, a grave and wise gentleman, did much believe in Kelly,

the alchemist, that he did indeed the work, and made gold; insomuch that

he went into Germany, where Kelly then was, to inform himself fully

thereof. After his return he dined with my Lord of Canterbury, where at

that time was at the table Dr. Brown, the physician. They fell in talk

of Kelly. Sir Edward Dyer, turning to the archbishop, said--'I do assure

your Grace that that I shall tell you is truth: I am an eye-witness

thereof; and if I had not seen it, I should not have believed it. I saw

Master Kelly put of the base metal into the crucible; and after it was

set a little upon the fire, and a very small quantity of the medicine

put in, and stirred with a stick of wood, it came forth, in great

proportion, perfect gold, to the touch, to the hammer, and to the test.'

My Lord Archbishop said, 'You had need take heed what you say, Sir

Edward Dyer, for here is an infidel at the board.' Sir Edward Dyer said

again pleasantly, 'I would have looked for an infidel sooner in any

place than at your Grace's table.' 'What say you, Dr. Brown?' said the

archbishop. Dr. Brown answered, after his blunt and huddling manner,

'The gentleman hath spoken enough for me.' 'Why,' saith the archbishop,

'what hath he said?' 'Marry,' saith Dr. Brown, 'he said he would not

have believed it except he had seen it; and no more will I.'"

Professor De Morgan observes that "Alchemy was more than a popular

credulity: Newton and Boyle were amongst the earnest inquirers into it."

Bishop Berkeley was of opinion that M. Homberg made gold by introducing

light into the pores of mercury. Amongst the works of the Hon. Robert

Boyle (vol. iv. 13-19), is _An Historical Account of a Degradation of

Gold, made by an anti-Elixir: a Strange Chemical Narrative_, in which he

says--"To make it more credible that other metals are capable of being

graduated or exalted into gold, by way of projection, I will relate to

you, that by the like way, gold has been degraded or imbased.... Our

experiment plainly shows that gold, though confessedly the most

homogeneous and the least mutable of metals, may be in a very short time

(perhaps not amounting to many minutes), exceedingly changed, both as to

malleableness, colour, homogeneity, and (which is more) specific

gravity; and all this by so very inconsiderable a portion of injected

powder," &c.

"When Locke, as one of the executors of Boyle, was about to publish some

of his works, Newton wished him to insert the second and third part of

Boyle's recipes (the first part of which was to obtain 'a mercury that

would grow hot with gold'), and which Boyle had communicated to him on

condition that they should be published after his death."[15] "Mangetus

relates a story of a stranger calling on Boyle, and leaving with him a

powder, which he projected into the crucible, and instantly went out.

After the fire had gone out, Boyle found in the crucible a

yellow-coloured metal, possessing all the properties of pure gold, and

only a little lighter than the weight of the materials originally put in

the crucible."[16]

From these proofs of the credulity of great men, let us turn to the

encouragements vouchsafed to alchemy and its adepts by the Kings and

Parliaments of England. Raymond Lully visited England on the invitation

of Edward I.; and he affirms in one of his works, that in the secret

chamber of St. Katherine, in the Tower of London, he performed in the

royal presence the experiment of transmuting some crystal into a mass of

diamond, or adamant, as he calls it; on which Edward, he says, caused

some little pillars to be made for the tabernacle of God. It was

popularly believed, indeed, at the time, that the English king had been

furnished by Lully with a great quantity of gold for defraying the

expense of an expedition which he intended to make to the Holy Land.

Edward III. was not less credulous on this subject than his grandfather,

as appears by an order which he issued in 1329, in the following

terms:--"Know all men that we have been assured that John of Rous, and

Master William of Dalby, know how to make silver by the art of alchemy;

that they have made it in former times, and still continue to make it;

and considering that these men, by their art, and by making the precious

metal, may be profitable to us and to our kingdom, we have commanded our

well-beloved Thomas Cary to apprehend the aforesaid John and William

wherever they can be found, within liberties or without, and bring them

to us, together with all the instruments of their art, under safe and

sure custody." The first considerable coinage of gold in England was

begun by Edward III. in 1343: and "The alchemists did affirm, as an

unwritten verity, that the rose nobles, which were coined soon after,

were made by projection or multiplication alchemical, by Raymond Lully,

in the Tower of London." But Lully died in 1315; and the story only

shows the strength of the popular faith in alchemy. That this pretended

science was much cultivated in the fourteenth century, and with the

usual evil results, may be inferred from an Act passed 5 Hen. IV. cap. 4

(1404), to make it felony "to multiply gold or silver, or to use the

craft of multiplication," &c. It is probable, however, that this statute

was enacted from some apprehension that the operations of the

multipliers might possibly affect the value of the king's coin. Henry

VI., a very pious, yet very weak and credulous prince, was as great a

patron of the alchemists as Edward III. had been before him. These

impostors practised with admirable success upon his weakness and

credulity, repeatedly inducing him to advance them money wherewith to

prosecute the operations, as well as procuring from him protections

(which he sometimes prevailed upon the Parliament to confirm) from the

penalties of the statute just mentioned.[17] In 1438, the king

commissioned three philosophers to make the precious metals; but, as

might be expected, he received no returns from them in gold or

silver.[18] His credulity, however, seems to have been unshaken by

disappointment, and we next find him issuing one of these protections,

which is too long to print entire, granted to the "three famous men,"

John Fauceby, John Kirkeby, and John Ragny, which was confirmed by

Parliament May 31, 1456. In this document the object of the researches

of these "philosophers" is described to be "a certain most precious

medicine, called by some philosophers 'the mother and empress of

medicines;' by some, 'the inestimable glory;' by others, 'the

quintessence;' by others, 'the philosopher's stone;' by others, 'the

elixir of life;' which cures all curable diseases with ease; prolongs

human life in perfect vigour of faculty to its utmost natural term;

heals all healable wounds; is a most sovereign antidote against all

poisons; and is capable of preserving to us and our kingdom other great

advantages, such as the transmutation of other metals into the most real

and finest gold and silver."[19] Fauceby, here mentioned, is elsewhere

designated the king's physician.[20] We have not traced the position of

the other two adepts named. Fauceby, however, notwithstanding his power

of gold-making, did not refuse to accept a grant from the king, in 1456,

of a pension of 100_l._ a year for life.[21]

We come now to the two most distinguished of Lancashire alchemists, both

knights, and at the head of the principal families of the county. They

seem to have been actively engaged together in the delusive pursuit of

the transmutation of metals; and, self-deceived, to have deluded the

weak king with promises of wealth which never could be realised. These

Lancashire adepts were Sir Edmund de Trafford, Knight, and Sir Thomas

Ashton [of Ashton], Knight. The former was the younger of two sons of

Henry de Trafford, Esq., and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Sir Ralph

Radcliffe, Knight. The elder son, Henry, dying at the early age of

twenty-six years, this Edmund succeeded as his heir about King Henry V.

(1414), and he was knighted by Henry VI. at the Whitsuntide of 1426. He

married Dame Alice Venables, eldest daughter and co-heir to Sir William

Venables, of Bollyn, Knight. Their only son, Sir John Trafford, knighted

about 1444, in his father's life-time, married Elizabeth, daughter of

Sir Thomas Ashton, of Ashton-under-Lyne, Knight; whilst Sir Edmund's

youngest daughter, Dulcia, or Douce, married Sir John Ashton, a son of

Sir Thomas, in 1438; so that the two families were connected by this

double alliance. Sir Thomas Ashton, the alchemist, was the eldest son of

Sir John de Ashton (Knight of the Bath at the coronation of Henry IV. in

1399, Knight of the Shire in 1413, and Constable of Coutances in 1417),

and of his first wife, Jane, daughter of John Savile, of Tankersley,

county York. Sir Thomas married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Byron.

The date of his death is not known. Sir Edmund Trafford died in 1457.

Their supposed power of transmuting the baser metals into gold had great

attractions for a weak king, whose treasury was low, and who was

encumbered with debt. They were not mere adventurers, but men descended

from ancient families, opulent, and of high estimation in their native

county. Fuller found in the Tower of London, and copied,[22] a patent

granted to these two knights by Henry VI., in the twenty-fourth year of

his reign (1446), of which he gives the following translation:--"The

King to all unto whom, &c., greeting--Know ye, that whereas our beloved

and loyal Edmund de Trafford, Knight, and Thomas Ashton, Knight, have,

by a certain petition shown unto us, set forth that although they were

willing by the art or science of philosophy to work upon certain metals,

to translate [transmute] imperfect metals from their own kind, and then

to transubstantiate them by their said art or science, as they say, into

perfect gold or silver, unto all manner of proofs and trials, to be

expected and endured as any gold or silver growing in any mine;

notwithstanding certain persons ill-willing and maligning them,

conceiving them to work by unlawful art, and so may hinder and disturb

them in the trial of the said art and science: WE, considering the

premises, and willing to know the conclusion of the said work or

science, of our special grace have granted and given leave to the same

Edmund and Thomas, and to their servants, that they may work and try the

aforesaid art and science lawfully and freely, without any hindrance of

ours, or of our officers, whatsoever; any statute, act, ordinance, or

provision made, ordained, or provided to the contrary notwithstanding.

In witness whereof, &c., the King at Westminster, the 7th day of April"

[1446.][23] Fuller leaves this curious document, which might fitly have

been dated the _first_ instead of the 7th April, without a word of

comment. The two knightly alchemists, doubtlessly imposing on themselves

no less than on their royal patron, kept the king's expectation wound up

to the highest pitch; and in the following year he actually informed his

people that the happy hour was approaching when by means of "the stone"

he "should be able to pay off his debts!"[24] It is scarcely necessary

to add that the stone failed, and the king's debts must have remained

unpaid, if his majesty had not pawned the revenue of his Duchy of

Lancaster, to satisfy the demands of his clamorous creditors. Henry VI.

was deposed by Edward IV. in March, 1461, and though he was nominally

restored to the throne in October, 1470, he lost both crown and life in

May, 1471, being found dead (most probably murdered) in the Tower on the

evening or the morrow of the day on which Edward IV. entered London

after his victory at Barnet. Such are some of the most notable facts in

the practice of alchemy as connected with Lancashire. It will naturally

be asked if alchemy is still practised in this county? We can only say,

that if it be it is in very rare instances, and with the greatest

secrecy. The more chemistry is known--and the extent to which it has

been developed within the last twenty years is truly marvellous--the

more completely it takes the ground from under the feet of a believer in

alchemy. It is not like astrology, which accepts the facts of the true

science of astronomy, and only draws false conclusions from true

premisses. Alchemy could only have sprung up at a period when all the

operations of the chemist's laboratory were of the most rude, imperfect,

and blundering character; when the true bases of earths and minerals and

metals were unknown; when what was called chemistry was without

analysis, either quantitative or qualitative; before the law of definite

proportions had been discovered; when, in short, chemistry was a groping

in the dark without the help of any accurate weight or measure, or

other knowledge of the countless substances which are now so extensively

investigated, and so accurately described in the briefest formulas. A

man, to become an alchemist in the nineteenth century, must study only

the hermetical writings of past ages, shutting both eyes and ears to all

the facts of modern chemistry. It is scarcely possible at this day to

find such a combination of exploded learning and scientific ignorance.

Hence we conclude that alchemy is in all probability, from the very

nature of things, an obsolete and forgotten lore.

LANCASHIRE ASTROLOGERS.

Astrology (literally the Science of the Stars), is now understood to

signify the mode of discovering future events by means of the position

of the heavenly bodies, which has been termed judicial astronomy. This

quasi science found universal belief among all the nations of antiquity

except the Greeks. Among the Romans it was eagerly cultivated from the

time of the conquest of Egypt. In the second century the whole world was

astrological. All the followers of Mohammed have ever been, and still

are, believers in it. The Church of Rome has repeatedly condemned the

art, but popes and cardinals rank amongst its votaries. Cardinal d'Ailly

(about 1400), calculated the horoscope of Jesus Christ; and in the

fifteenth century Pope Calixtus III. directed prayers and anathemas

against a comet which had either assisted in or predicted the success of

the Turks against the Christians. The establishment of the Copernican

system was the death of astrology. The last of the astrologers was

Morin, best known as the opponent of Gassendi. The latter in youth had

studied and believed in the art, but afterwards renounced and written

against it. Morin, who worked thirty years at a book on astrology, and

who disbelieved in the motion of the earth, repeatedly predicted the

death of Gassendi, but was always wrong, as he was in foretelling the

death of Louis XIII. Since his death, in 1656, the pseudo-science has

gradually sunk, and has not since, it is believed, been adopted by any

real astronomer. Roger Bacon and other early English philosophers were

believers in astrology, no less than in alchemy. In Lancashire the most

remarkable practisers of the art were Dr. John Dee, warden of Manchester

College, his friend and "seer," Sir Edward Kelly, and John Booker, of

Manchester. Dee was the son of a wealthy vintner, and was born in London

in 1527. At the age of fifteen he was entered at St. John's College,

Cambridge, where he seems to have devoted himself to the study of

mathematics, astronomy, and chemistry; displaying great assiduity and

industry. At twenty he made a year's tour on the Continent, chiefly in

Holland, and on his return was made one of the fellows of Trinity

College on its foundation by Henry VIII., in 1543. In 1548 he was

strongly suspected of being addicted to "the black art," probably from

his astrological pursuits; and having taken his degree of A.M., he again

went abroad to the university of Louvaine and to Rheims, and elsewhere

in France; returning to England in 1551, when he was presented by Cecil

to King Edward VI., who assigned him a pension of one hundred crowns,

which he subsequently relinquished for the rectory of Upton-on-Severn.

Shortly after the accession of Mary, he was accused of "practising

against the queen's life by _enchantment_;" the charge being founded on

some correspondence between him and "the servants of the Lady

Elizabeth." He was long imprisoned and frequently examined, but as

nothing could be established against him he was set at liberty by an

order of the church in 1555. On the accession of Elizabeth, Dee was

consulted by Lord Robert Dudley respecting "a propitious day" for the

coronation. He says, "I wrote at large and delivered it for her

Majesty's use, by the commandment of the Lord Robert (afterwards Earl of

Leicester), what in my judgment the ancient astrologers would determine

on the election day of such a time as was appointed for her Majesty to

be crowned in." He was presented to the queen, who made him great

promises (not always fulfilled); amongst others, that where her brother

Edward "had given him a crown, she would give him a noble" [one-third

more--viz., from 5_s._ to 6_s._ 8_d._]. Nothing can better mark the

belief in astrology than the fact that Queen Elizabeth's nativity was

cast, in order to ascertain whether she could marry with advantage to

the nation. Lilly, some eighty years later, declares[25] that he

received twenty pieces of gold, in order that he might ascertain where

Charles I. might be most safe from his enemies, and what hour would be

most favourable for his escape from Carisbrooke Castle.

In 1564 Dee again visited the Continent, and was presented to the

Emperor Maximilian, probably on some secret mission; for Lilly says, "he

was the Queen's intelligencer, and had a salary for his maintenance from

the Secretaries of State. He was a ready-witted man, quick of

apprehension, and of great judgment in the Latin and Greek tongues. He

was a very great investigator of the more secret hermetical learning

(alchemy), a perfect astronomer, a curious astrologer, a serious

geometrician; to speak truth, he was excellent in all kinds of

learning."[26] Dee was repeatedly and urgently sent for one morning "to

prevent the mischief which divers of her Majesty's privy council

suspected to be intended against her Majesty, by means of a certain

image of wax, with a great pin stuck into it, about the breast of it,

found in Lincoln's Inn Fields." For some years Dee led a life of privacy

and study at Mortlake in Surrey, collecting books and MSS., beryls and

magic crystals, talismans, &c. So strong was the popular belief in his

neighbourhood that he had dealings with the devil, that in 1576 a mob

assembled, broke into his house, and destroyed nearly all his library

and collections; and it was with difficulty that he and his family

escaped the fury of the rabble. In October, 1578, by the Queen's

command, he had a conference with Dr. Bayley, her Majesty's physician,

"about her Majesty's grievous pains, by reason of toothache and the

rheum," &c.; and the same year he was sent on a winter journey of about

1500 miles by sea and land, "to consult with the learned physicians and

philosophers [_i.e._, astrologers], for her Majesty's health-recovering

and preserving." Passing over his more useful and valuable services to

the State and to the world, as we are only noting here his doings as an

astrologer, &c., we may remark that most of his proceedings and writings

in this pseudo-science or art were accomplished after he had passed his

fiftieth year. It was in 1581 that he took into his service, as an

assistant in his alchemical and astrological labours, an apothecary of

Worcester named Edward Kelly, born in 1555, and who was called "The

Seer," because, looking into magic crystals or speculæ, it was said he

saw many things which it was not permitted to Dee himself to behold.

Kelly also acted as Dee's amanuensis, and together they held

"conversations with spirits." They had a black speculum, it is said "a

polished piece of cannel coal," in which the angels Gabriel and Raphael

appeared at their invocation. Hence Butler says--

"Kelly did all his feats upon

The devil's looking-glass--a stone."

In 1583 a Polish noble, Albert Lasque, palatine of Siradia [? Sieradz]

being in England, Dee and Kelly were introduced to him, and accompanied

him to Poland. He persuaded them to pay a visit to Rodolph, king of

Bohemia, who, though a weak and credulous man, is said to have become

disgusted with their pretensions. They had no better success with the

king of Poland, but were soon after invited by a rich Bohemian noble to

his castle of Trebona, where they continued for some time in great

affluence, owing, as they asserted, to their transmuting the baser

metals into gold. Kelly is said to have been sordid and grasping,

without honour or principle. Lilly asserts that the reason of many

failures in the conferences with spirits was because Kelly was very

vicious, "unto whom the angels were not obedient, or willingly did

declare [answers to] the questions propounded." Dee and Kelly quarrelled

and separated in Bohemia; Dee returning to England, while Kelly remained

at Prague. He died in 1595. In 1595 the Queen appointed Dee warden of

Manchester College, he being then sixty-eight years of age. He resided

at Manchester nine years, quitting it in 1604 for his old abode at

Mortlake, where he died in 1608, aged eighty-one, in great poverty, and

leaving a numerous family and a great many printed works and forty

unpublished writings behind him. The catalogue of Dee's library at

Mortlake shows that it was rich in the works of preceding astrologers

and alchemists, especially those of Roger Bacon, Raymond Lully, Albertus

Magnus, Arnold de Villa Nova, &c.

John Booker, a celebrated astrologer of the seventeenth century, was the

son of John Bowker (commonly pronounced Booker), of Manchester, and was

born 23rd March, 1601. He was educated at the Manchester Grammar School,

where he acquired some acquaintance with Latin. From childhood he showed

an inclination for astrology, and amused himself with studying almanacks

and other books on that subject. After serving some time to a

haberdasher in London, he practised as a writing-master at Hadley,

Middlesex; and was subsequently clerk for some time to the aldermen at

Guildhall. Becoming famous by his studies, he was appointed Licenser of

Mathematical Publications, which then included all those relating to the

"celestial sciences." Lilly tells us that he once thought him the

greatest astrologer in the world; but he afterwards came to think

himself a much greater man. George Wharton, who had been one of his

astrological acquaintances, quarrelled with him, and in consequence

published at Oxford in 1644, in answer to one of Booker's pamphlets,

what he called "Mercurio-Cœlica-Mastyx; or an Anti-caveat to all such

as have heretofore had the misfortune to be cheated and deluded by the

great and treacherous impostor, John Booker; in an answer to his

frivolous pamphlet, entitled 'Mercurius-Cœlicus, or a Caveat to all

the People of England.'" Booker died of dysentery in April, 1667, and

was buried in St. James's Church, Duke's Place, London, where the

following monument was erected to him by Ashmole, who was one of his

greatest admirers:--"Ne oblivione conteretur Urna Johannis Bookeri,

Astrologi, qui Fatis cessit 6 idus Aprilis, A.D. 1667. Hoc illi posuit

amoris Monumentum, Elias Ashmole, Armiger." Lilly, in his _Life and

Times_, gives the following character of Booker:--

"He was a great proficient in astrology, whose excellent verses upon

the twelve months, framed according to the configurations of each month,

being blest with success according to his predictions, procured him much

reputation all over England. He was a very honest man; abhorred any

deceit in the art he studied; had a curious fancy in judging of thefts;

and was successful in resolving love questions. He was no mean

proficient in astronomy; understood much of physic; was a great admirer

of the antimonial cup; not unlearned in chemistry, which he loved, but

did not practise; and since his decease I have seen a nativity of his

performance, exactly directed, and judged with as much learning as from

astrology can be expected. His library of books came short of the

world's approbation, and were sold by his widow to Elias Ashmole, Esq.,

who most generously gave far more than they were worth."

Lilly and Booker were frequently consulted during the differences

between the king and the parliamentary army, and were once invited by

General Fairfax, and sent in a coach-and-four to head quarters at

Windsor, to give their opinions on [_i.e._, their predictions as to] the

prosecution of the war. Booker became famous for a prediction on the

solar eclipse of 1613, in which year both the king of Bohemia and

Gustavus, king of Sweden, died. Booker's works (chiefly tracts or

pamphlets) were about fifteen or sixteen in number. The only work now

worth notice is his _Bloody Irish Almanack_ (London, 1646, quarto),

which contains some memorable particulars relative to the war in

Ireland.[27]

Another Lancashire astrologer was Charles Leadbetter, who was born at

Cronton, near Prescot, and was the author of a _Treatise on Eclipses of

the Sun and Moon, commencing A.D. 1715, and ending A.D. 1749_; in which

he gives the horoscope of every eclipse of importance; and, from the

aspects of the stars, predicts the principal occurrences that may be

expected within limited periods. He failed, however, to predict the

Rebellion of 1715, or that of 1745; and though under the years 1720 and

1721 he predicated "Sea Fights and Death of Fish," no hint of the "South

Sea Bubble," the great event of those years, can be found amongst his

prophecies. He entertained no doubt of an "eclipse of the moon, moving

subjects to seduction [? sedition], servants to disobedience, and wives

to a disorder against their husbands." Yet Leadbetter's Works on

Astronomy, &c., were held in able repute, and he taught the "Arts and

Sciences Mathematical" with much success, "at the Hand and Pen, Cock

Lane, near Shore Ditch, London."

If we close here our notices of Lancashire Astrologers, it is not

because we suppose the class to be wholly extinct. But those to whom we

have so far referred, were well acquainted with astronomy, and erred

only in superadding the delusions of astrology to the truths of that

real science. The class still remaining in Lancashire, chiefly in

country districts, are (with very few exceptions) greatly inferior in

knowledge, and, mixing up the arts of the so-called sorcerer or conjuror

with the deductions of the so-called "astral science" (of which they are

blundering smatterers, often ignorant of the very elements of

astronomy), they do not merit the name of astrologers, but should be

classed with the numerous "wise men," "cunning women," and other

varieties of fortune-tellers, who have not even the negative merit of

being self-deluded by the phenomena of a supposed science; but are in

their way mere charlatans and cheats, knowingly cozening their credulous

dupes of as much money as they can extort. Some notices of this class

will be found in later pages.

BELLS.

It is not with Bells generally, but only with Church Bells, and not with

all their uses, but only such of them as are superstitious, that we are

called upon to deal here. The large church bells are said to have been

invented by Paulinus, Bishop of Nola, in Campania (whence the low Latin

name of Campana), about A.D. 400. Two hundred years afterwards they

appear to have been in great use in churches. Pope John XIII., in A.D.

968, consecrated a very large newly-cast bell in the Lateran Church at

Rome, giving it the name of John. This is the first instance known of

what has since been called "the baptising of bells," a Roman Catholic

superstition of which vestiges remain in England in the names of great

bells, as "Tom of Lincoln," "Great Tom of Oxford," &c. The priests

anciently rung them themselves. Amongst their superstitious uses, were

to drive away lightning and thunder; to chase evil spirits from persons

and places; to expedite childbirth, when women were in labour; and the

original use of the soul-bell or passing-bell was to drive away any

demon that might seek to take possession of the soul of the deceased.

Grose says that the passing-bell was anciently rung for two purposes:

one, to bespeak the prayers of all good Christians for a soul just

departing; the other, to drive away the evil spirits who stood at the

bed's foot and about the house, ready to seize their prey, or at least

to molest and terrify the soul in its passage. By the ringing of the

bell they were kept aloof, and the soul, like a hunted hare, gained the

start, or had what sportsmen call "law." Hence the high charge for

tolling the great bell of the church, which, being louder, the evil

spirits must go further off to be clear of its sound, by which the poor

soul got so much the more start of them; besides, being heard further

off, it would likewise procure the dying man a greater number of

prayers. Till about 1830, it was customary at Roman Catholic funerals in

many parts of Lancashire, to ring a merry peal on the bells, as soon as

the interment was over. Doubtless the greater the clang of the bells,

the further the flight of the fiends waiting to seize the soul of the

departed. There are some monkish rhymes in Latin on the uses of church

bells, some of which are retained in the following doggerel:--

Men's deaths I tell By doleful knell;

Lightning and thunder I break asunder;

On Sabbath all To church I call;

The sleepy head I raise from bed;

The winds so fierce I do disperse;

Men's cruel rage I do assuage.

The following verses (the spelling modernized) further illustrate the

subject:[28]--

"If that the thunder chance to roar, and stormy tempest shake,

A wonder is it for to see the wretches how they quake;

How that no faith at all they have, nor trust in any thing,

The clerk doth all the bells forthwith at once in steeple ring;

With wondrous sound and deeper far than he was wont before,

Till in the lofty heavens dark the thunders bray no more.

For in these christen'd bells they think doth lie much pow'r and might

As able is the tempest great and storm to vanquish quite.

I saw myself at Nurnberg once, a town in Toring coast,

A bell that with this title bold herself did proudly boast:

By name I 'Mary' called am, with sound I put to flight

The thunder-cracks and hurtful storms, and every wicked sprite.

Such things when as these bells can do, no wonder certainly

It is, if that the papists to their tolling always fly,

When hail, or any raging storm, or tempest comes in sight,

Or thunderbolts, or lightning fierce, that every place doth smite."

Wynkin de Worde[29] tells us that bells are rung during thunder-storms,

to the end that the fiends and wicked spirits should be abashed, and

flee, and cease the moving of the tempest.[30] Bells appear to have had

an inherent power against evil spirits, but this power was held to be

greatly increased by the bells being christened. There is a custom in

some Lancashire parishes, in ringing the passing-bell, to conclude its

tolling with nine knells or strokes of the clapper, for a man, six for a

woman, and three for a child; the vestiges of an ancient Roman Catholic

injunction.[31] In an Old English Homily for Trinity Sunday,[32] it is

stated that "the form of the Trinity was found in man; that was, Adam

our forefather, on earth, one person, and Eve of Adam, the second

person; and of them both was the third person. At the death of a man

three bells should be rung, as his knell, in worship of the Trinity, and

for a woman, who was the second person of the Trinity, two bells should

be rung." Two couplets on the passing-bell may be inserted here:--

"When the bell begins to toll,

Lord have mercy on the soul!

When thou dost hear a toll or knell

Then think upon _thy_ passing-bell."[33]

The great bell which used to be rung on Shrove-Tuesday to call the

people together for the purpose of confessing their sins, or to be

"shriven," was called the "Pancake Bell," and some have regarded it

simply as a signal for the people to begin frying their pancakes. This

custom prevails still in some parts of Lancashire, and in many country

places throughout the North of England. Another bell, rung in some

places as the congregation quits the church on Sunday, is popularly

known among country people as the "pudding-bell," they supposing that

its use is to warn those at home to get the dinner ready, as, in homely

phrase, "pudding-time has come." A Lancashire clergyman[34] states that

this bell is still rung in some of the old Lancashire parish churches;

but he does not suggest any more probable reason for tolling this bell.

The Curfew Bell [_couvre feu_, cover-fire] is commonly believed to be of

Norman origin; a law having been made by William the Conqueror that all

people should put out their fires and lights at the eight o'clock

(evening) bell, and go to bed. In one place the sexton of a parish was

required to lie in the church steeple, and at eight o'clock every night

to ring the curfew for a quarter of an hour. The curfew-bell is still

rung at Burnley, Colne, Blackburn, Padiham, and indeed in most of the

older towns and many of the villages of Lancashire. It has nearly lost

its ancient name, and is a remarkable instance of the persistence of an

old custom or usage, long after all its significance or value has

ceased. It is now merely called "the eight o'clock bell." A morning

bell, rung anciently at four, now more commonly at six o'clock, is also

to be heard in Burnley and other places, and is called "the six o'clock

bell." Of what maybe called "the vocal ghosts of bells" many stories

might be told. Opposite the Cross-slack, on the sands near Blackpool,

out at sea, once stood the church and cemetery of Kilgrimol, long since

submerged. Many tales are told of benighted wanderers near this spot

being terrified with the sound of bells pealing dismal chimes o'er the

murmuring sea.[35]

BEAL-TINE OR BELTANE FIRES; RELICS OF BAAL WORSHIP.

Among the dim traces of an extinct worship of Bel, or Baal, the ancient

sun-god, perceptible still among Celtic peoples, especially in Ireland

and Scotland, are the three festival periods when fires are kindled on

eminences in honour of the sun. The _Bel_, or _Belus_, the chief deity

of the Babylonians and the Assyrians, seems to have been identical with

the _Baal_ of the Phœnicians and Carthaginians. The Chaldee _Bel_ and

the Hebrew _Baal_ alike mean "Lord;" and under these names worship was

paid by the old Asiatics to the sun, whose light and heat-giving

properties were typified by fires kindled on the tops of high hills. In

parts of Lancashire, especially in the Fylde, these traces of a heathen

cult still linger. "From the great heaps of stones on eminences, called

Cairns, from the Toot-hills (_i.e._, the hills dedicated to the worship

of the Celtic god, Tot, or Teut, or Teutates, the same with the Egyptian

Thoth), and the Belenian eminences, whereon was worshipped Bel, or

Belus, or Belenus, the sun-god; from these three kinds of heights the

grand sacred fires of the _Bel-Tine_ flamed thrice a year, at three of

the great festivals of the Druids, in honour of Beal, or the Sun--viz.,

on the eve of May-day, on Midsummer Eve, and on the eve of the 1st

November. Two such fires were kindled by one another on May-day Eve in

every village of the nation, as well throughout all Gaul as in Britain,

Ireland, and the outlying lesser islands, between which fires the men

and the beasts to be sacrificed were to pass; from whence came the

proverb, 'Between Bel's two fires,' meaning one in a great strait, not

knowing how to extricate himself. One of the fires was on the cairn, and

the other on the ground. On the eve of the 1st of November all the

people, out of a religious persuasion instilled into them by the Druids,

extinguished their fires. Then every master of a family was religiously

obliged to take home a portion of the consecrated fire, and to kindle

the fire anew in his house, which for the ensuing year was to be lucky

and prosperous. Any man who had not paid all his last year's dues to the

Druids was neither to have a spark of this holy fire from the cairns,

nor dared any of his neighbours let him take the benefit of theirs,

under pain of excommunication; which, as managed by the Druids, was

worse than death. If, therefore, he would live the winter out, he must

pay the Druids' dues by the last day of October. The Midsummer fires and

sacrifices were to obtain a blessing on the fruits of the earth, now

becoming ready for gathering; as those on the 1st of May, that they

might prosperously grow; and those on the last of October were a

thanksgiving for finishing their harvest. But in all of them regard was

had to the several degrees of increase and decrease in the heat of the

sun. At the cairn fires it was customary for the lord of the place, or

his son, or some other person of distinction, to take the entrails of

the sacrificed animal into his hands, and walking bare-foot over the

coals thrice, after the flames had ceased, to carry them to the Druid,

who waited in a whole skin at the altar. If the fire-treader escaped

harmless, it was reckoned a good omen, and welcomed with loud

acclamations; but if he received any hurt, it was deemed unlucky both to

the community and to himself."[36] In Ireland, May-day is called _la na

Beal tina_, and its eve, _neen na Beal tina_--_i.e._, the day and eve of

Beal's fire, from its having been in heathen times consecrated to the

god Beal, or Belus. The ceremony practised on May-day Eve, of making the

cows leap over lighted straw or faggots, has been generally traced to

the worship of this deity.[37]

The Irish have ever been worshippers of fire and of Baal, and are so to

this day. The chief festival in honour of the sun and fire is upon the

21st [24th] June, when the sun arrives at the summer solstice, or rather

begins its retrograde motion. "At the house where I was entertained, in

the summer of 1782, it was told me that we should see at midnight the

most singular sight in Ireland, which was _the lighting of fires in

honour of the sun_. Accordingly, exactly at midnight, the fires began to

appear; and, going up to the leads of the house, which had a

widely-extended view, I saw, on a radius of thirty miles all around, the

fires burning on every eminence. I learned from undoubted authority that

the people danced round the fires, and at the close went through these

fires, and made their sons and daughters, together with their cattle,

pass the fire; and the whole was conducted with religious

solemnity."[38] Bonfires are still made on Midsummer Eve in the northern

parts of England and in Wales. The 1st of November was considered among

the ancient Welsh as the conclusion of summer, and was celebrated with

bonfires, accompanied with ceremonies suitable to these events, and some

parts of Wales still retain these customs. Dr. Jamieson, in his

_Dictionary of the Scottish Language_, mentions a festival called

_Beltane_ or _Beltein_, annually held in Scotland on Old May Day (May

13th). A town in Perthshire is called _Tillee Beltein_--_i.e._, the

eminence or high place of the fire of Baal. Near it are two Druidical

Temples of upright stones, with a well adjacent to one of them, still

held in great veneration for its sanctity. The doctor describes the

drawing of bits of a cake, one part of which is made perfectly black

with charcoal, and he who draws the black bit is considered as "devoted

to Baal, and is obliged to leap three times through the flame." Pennant,

in his _Tour in Scotland_, gives a like account, with other ceremonies.

The custom existed in the Isle of Man on the eve of the 1st of May, of

lighting _two_ fires on a hill-top, in honour of the pagan god Baal, and

of driving cattle between those fires, as an antidote against murrain or

any pestilent distemper for the year following. It was also customary to

light these fires on St. John's Eve (June 23rd), and up to the present

time a stranger is surprised to see on this day, as evening approaches,

fires springing up in all directions around him, accompanied with the

blowing of horns and other rejoicings.[39] Macpherson notices the

_Beltein_ ceremonies in Ireland, and adds, "Beltein is also observed in

Lancashire." On Horwich Moor are two heaps of stones, or cairns, which

are called by the country people "The Wilder Lads." It is believed that

on May Day Eve the Druids made prodigious fires on cairns, situated as

these are, on lofty eminences, which being every one in sight of some

other like fire, symbolized a universal celebration. These fires were in

honour of _Beal_, or _Bealan_, latinized into _Belenus_, by which name

the Gauls and their colonies denoted the sun; and to this time the

first day of May is by the Irish called _La Bealtine_, or the Day of

Belen's Fire. It bears a like name among the Highlanders of Scotland,

and in the Isle of Man.[40]

The last evening in October was called the "Teanlay Night," or "The Fast

of All Souls." At the close of that day, till of late years, the hills

which encircle the Fylde shone brightly with many a bonfire; the mosses

of Marton, &c., rivalling them with their fires, kindled for the avowed

object of succouring their friends, whose souls were supposed to be

detained in purgatory. A field near Poulton in which the mummery of the

"Teanlay" was once celebrated (a circle of men standing with bundles of

straw, raised on high with forks), is named "Purgatory" by the old

inhabitants. Formerly this custom was not confined to one village or

town of the Fylde district, but was generally practised as a sacred

ceremony.[41]

BOGGARTS, GHOSTS, AND HAUNTED PLACES.

What is a Boggart? A sort of ghost or sprite. But what is the meaning of

the word Boggart? Brand says that "in the northern parts of England,

ghost is pronounced _gheist_ and _guest_. Hence _bar-guest_, or

_bar-gheist_. Many streets are haunted by a guest, who assumes many

strange appearances, as a mastiff-dog, &c. It is a corruption of the

Anglo-Saxon _gast_, spiritus, anima." Brand might have added that _bar_

is a term for gate in the north, and that all the gates of York are

named "bars," so that a _bar-gheist_ is literally a gate-ghost; and many

are the tales of strange appearances suddenly seen perched on the top of

a gate or fence, whence they sometimes leaped upon the shoulders of the

scared passenger. Drake, in his _Eboracum_, says (Appendix, p. 7), "I

have been so frightened with stories of the _barguest_ when I was a

child, that I cannot help throwing away an etymology upon it. I suppose

it comes from Anglo-Saxon _burh_, a town, and _gast_, a ghost, and so

signifies a town sprite. N.B.--_Guest_ is in the Belgic and Teutonic

softened into _gheist_ and _geyst_." The "Boggart Hole" therefore means

the hollow haunted by the bar-gheist or gate-ghost.

BOGGART HOLE CLOUGH.

"Not far from the little snug, smoky village of Blakeley or Blackley,

there lies one of the most romantic of dells, rejoicing in a state of

singular seclusion, and in the oddest of Lancashire names, to wit, the

'Boggart Hole.' [In the present generation, by pleonasm, the place is

named 'Boggart Hole Clough.'] Rich in every requisite for picturesque

beauty and poetical association, it is impossible for me (who am neither

a painter nor a poet) to describe this dell as it should be described;

and I will, therefore, only beg of thee, gentle reader, who,

peradventure, mayst not have lingered in this classical neighbourhood,

to fancy a deep, deep, dell, its steep sides fringed down with hazel,

and beech, and fern, and thick undergrowth, and clothed at the bottom

with the richest and greenest sward in the world. You descend, clinging

to the trees, and scrambling as best you may, and now you stand on

haunted ground! Tread softly, for this is the Boggart's Clough, and see,

in yonder dark corner, and beneath the projecting mossy stone, where

that dusky sullen cave yawns before us, like a bit of Salvator's best,

there lurks that strange elf, the sly and mischievous Boggart. Bounce! I

see him coming; oh no, it was only a hare bounding from her form; there

it goes--there!"--Such is the introduction to a tale of a boggart, told

by Crofton Croker, in Roby's _Traditions of Lancashire_; but which, if

memory serve us faithfully, is but a localized version of a story told

of an Irish sprite, and also of a Scotch brownie; for in all three tales

when the farmer and his family are "flitting" in order to get away from

the nocturnal disturbance, the sprite pops up his head from the cart,

exclaiming, "Ay, neighbour, we're flitting!" Tradition, which has

preserved the name of the clough selected by the Lancashire boggart for

his domicile, has failed to record any particular pranks of this

individual elf, and we can only notice this charming little clough, as

conveying by its popular name the only remaining vestige of its lost

traditions. Perhaps the best story of this clough is that graphically

told by Bamford[42] of three friends seeking by a charm (consisting in

gathering three grains of St. John's fern seed there), to win for one of

them the love of a damsel who was indifferent to him.

BOGGARTS OR GHOSTS IN OLD HALLS.

There is scarcely an old house, or hall, of any antiquity in Lancashire,

that cannot boast of that proud distinction over the houses of

yesterday, a ghost or boggart. _Radcliffe Tower_ was haunted by a black

dog; perhaps in commemoration of the Fair Ellen of Radcliffe, who, by

order of her stepmother, was murdered by the master cook, and cut up

small, and of her flesh a venison pasty made for her father's dinner!

_Smithells Hall_, near Bolton, was formerly haunted by the ghost of the

martyr George Marsh, whose stamped footstep indenting a flagstone, is

still shown there.

_Ince Hall_ stands about a mile from Wigan, on the left-hand of the high

road to Bolton. It is a very conspicuous object, its ancient and

well-preserved front--one of those black and white half-timbered façades

now almost confined to the two counties palatine of Lancashire and

Cheshire--generally attracting the notice and inquiry of travellers.

About a mile to the south-east stands another place of the same name,

once belonging to the Gerards of Bryn. The manor is now the property of

Charles Walmsley, Esq., of Westwood, near Wigan. The two mansions _Ince

Hall_ and _Ince Manor House_, are sometimes confounded together in

topographical inquiries; and it is not now certain to which of them

properly belongs a tradition about a forged will and a ghost, on which

Mr. Roby has founded a very graphic story, in his _Traditions of

Lancashire_. There are the Boggart of _Clegg Hall_, near Rochdale; the

_Clayton Hall_ Boggart, Droylsden; the _Clock House_ Boggart, in the

same neighbourhood; the _Thackergate_ Boggart, near Alderdale; and many

others: indeed they are too numerous for us to attempt a full

enumeration. Mr. Higson observes[43] that few sombre or out-of-the-way

places, retired nooks and corners, or sequestered by-paths, escaped the

reputation of being haunted. Many domiciles had their presiding boggart,

and _feeorin'_ [fairies] swarmed at every turn of the dark old lanes,

and arch-boggarts held revel at every "three-road-end." After dusk, each

rustle of the leaves, or sigh of the night wind through the branches, to

the timid wayfarer heralded the instant and unceremonious appearance of

old wizards and witches, "Nut Nans," and "Clapcans," or the terrific

exploits of headless trunks, alias "men beawt yeds," or other

traditionary "sperrits," hobgoblins, and sprites, or the startling

semblances of black dogs, phantoms, and other indescribable apparitions.

Aqueous nymphs or _nixies_, yclept "Grindylow," and "Jenny Green Teeth,"

lurked at the bottom of pits, and with their long, sinewy arms dragged

in and drowned children who ventured too near. On autumnal evenings, the

flickering flame (carburetted hydrogen, spontaneously ignited) of the

"Corpse Candle," "Will-o'-th'-Wisp," or "Jack" or "Peg-a-Lantern" (for

the sex was not clearly ascertained), performed his or her fantastic and

impossible jumps in the plashy meadows near Edge Lane, to the terror of

many a simple-minded rustic. Fairies, also, were believed to commit many

depredations; such as eating the children's porridge, nocturnally riding

out the horses, loosing the cows in the shippon, or churning the milk

whilst "calving," by the fireside, and stealing the butter; and hence,

behind many a door, as yet observable in Clayton, both of dwelling and

shippon, was carefully nailed a worn horse-shoe, believed to be a potent

counter-charm or talisman against their freaks and fancies. There were

certain localities in the township of Droylsden notorious as the

rendezvous or favourite promenades of boggarts and feeorin', which after

nightfall few persons could muster pluck sufficient to linger in, or

even pass by, for--

"Grey superstition's whisper dread,

Debarr'd the spot to vulgar tread."

Manifestly pre-eminent was "th' owd Green Lone," which "Jem Hill, th'

king o' Dreighlesdin," used to assert "swaarmt wi' fairees, witches, un'

boggerts, un' which nob'dy could mester bur hissel'." The boggart

located at Thackergate, near Alderdale, has well-nigh scared many a

sober person out of his senses. Herds of four-footed boggarts used to

issue from a pit at East End, in form resembling "great big dhogs, wi'

great glarin' een, as big as tay-cups." The boggart at the

croft-tenter's lodge (South) Clock-house, as fancy dictated, stalked

through the chamber and stripped the bedclothes off the sleepers; or,

assuming gigantic proportions and snow-white vestments, perched in the

solemn yew-tree, a startling object by contrast. At last, being

exorcised by an array of divines, it was _laid_ for a time, beneath its

favourite tree. A field-path from Fairfield to Ashton Hill-lane was

nightly traversed by a being of another world, mostly representing a

shadowy lady, draped according to whim, either in a loose white robe, or

in rustling black silk. For a certain distance she glided in advance of

the pedestrian, and then, by suddenly vanishing, most likely left his

hair standing on end. At one of the Greenside farms a murder was said to

have been committed in the shippon; and the exact spot was supposed to

be indicated by the impossibility of securely fastening a cow in one

particular boose; for, however carefully its occupant was chained

overnight, next morning she was sure to be found at large, and once was

actually discovered on the shippon balks. Thither, it was believed, the

cow had been carried by supernatural agency; but, be that as it may, it

was necessary to lower her cautiously down, with the aid of ropes and

blocks. At a cottage adjoining, a boggart varied its amusements by

drumming on the old oaken chest, still preserved; or, growing

emboldened, shook the hangings of the bed, or rustled amongst the

clothes; the alarmed occupants sometimes in despair rolling up the

coverlet, and unavailingly whirling it at their invisible tormentor. At

a neighbouring farm-house, amongst other vagaries, the boggart would

snatch up the infant, whilst asleep between its parents, and, without

awakening them, would harmlessly deposit it on the hearthstone,

downstairs. "Clayton Ho'" [Hall] was of course honoured with a boggart,

which at dead of night diversified its pranks by snatching the clothes

from the beds, trailing heavy iron weights on the floors, or rattling

ponderous chains through the crazy apartments. These pranks becoming

insufferable, the help of a clergyman from the parish church was

obtained; and fortunately, with the aid of counter-spells and

incantations, he succeeded in _laying_ the spirit for ever, declaring

that,

"Whilst ivy climbs and holly is green,

Clayton Hall Boggart shall no more be seen."

Even yet one room in the mansion is named "the Bloody Chamber," from

some supposed stains of human gore on the oaken floor planks; which,

however, in reality are only natural red tinges of the wood, denoting

the presence of iron. Even since the formation of the new road, J.

W----, the last of the ancient race of boggart-seers in the township,

used to combat with feeorin' between East End and Droylsden toll-gate;

but as he died a few years ago without bequeathing his gift, he

(happily) carried with him his mantle to the grave. At a period just

within memory, oft, after sunset, has the weary and tardy pedestrian

quickened his speed on approaching some lonely place, by remembering how

its tutelar spirit or Boggart could assume at will the shape of a

rabbit, dog, bear, or still more fearful form. On its appearance, of

course, the wayfarer fled in affright, and from fear and unwonted

exertion, often reached home utterly exhausted. Next day the story would

be widely circulated through the thinly populated district, detailing at

length (and of course gathering minuteness and improvement in its

transmission), how "Owd Yethurt o' Grunsho," or "Lung Tum woife," "th'

neet afore wur welly ta'en by a great black Boggart, wi' great lung

hurms, un' a whiskin' tail, un' yure as black as soot, un' rowlin' e'en

as big as saucers." The decadence of all these old superstitions is to

be attributed to a variety of causes. Straight, well-paved roads;

increased intellectual activity in useful channels, informing the minds

of one locality with the ideas of another, the publication of scientific

works; and lastly, according to one aged unbeliever, the introduction of

"Owd Ned [the steam-engine], un' lung chimblies; fact'ry folk havin'

summat else t'mind nur wanderin' ghosts un' rollickin' sperrits." The

same authority archly declared as a clincher, "There's no Boggarts neaw,

un' iv ther' were, folk han grown so wacken, they'd soon catch 'em."[44]

HOUSE BOGGARTS, OR LABOURING GOBLINS.

These humbler classes of boggarts are by turns both useful and

troublesome to the farmers of the district where they choose to reside.

Syke Lumb Farm, near Blackburn, is reputed to be still visited by one

of these anomalous beings, and many of his mad pranks are still talked

of and believed in the neighbourhood. When in a good humour, this noted

goblin will milk the cows, pull the hay, fodder the cattle, harness the

horses, load the carts, and stack the crops. When irritated by the

utterance of some unguarded expression or mark of disrespect, either

from the farmer or his servants, the cream-mugs are smashed to atoms; no

butter can be obtained by churning; the horses and other cattle are

turned loose or driven into the woods; two cows will sometimes be found

fastened in the same stall; no hay can be pulled from the mow; and all

the while the wicked imp sits grinning with delight upon one of the

cross-beams in the barn. At other times the horses are unable to draw

the empty carts across the farm-yard; if loaded, they are upset; whilst

the cattle tremble with fear, not at any visible cause. Nor do the

inmates of the house experience any better or gentler usage. During the

night the clothes are said to be violently torn from off the beds of the

offending parties, whilst invisible hands drag these individuals down

the stone stairs by the legs, one step at a time, after a more

uncomfortable manner than we need describe. Hothershall Hall, near

Ribchester, was formerly the scene of similar exploits; but the goblin

is understood to have been "laid" under the roots of a large laurel tree

at the end of the house, and will not be able to molest the family so

long as the tree exists. It is a common opinion in that part of the

country that the roots have to be moistened with milk on certain

occasions, in order to prolong its existence, and also to preserve the

power of the spell under which the goblin is laid. None but the Roman

Catholic priesthood are supposed to have the power of "laying an evil

spirit," and hence they have always the honour to be cited in our local

legends. Sometimes, too, they have the credit of outwitting the goblins;

and many an old farm residence has the reputation of having thus been

freed from these imps of darkness till they can spin a rope from the

sands of the Ribble. The mansion at Towneley does not escape the

imputation of having its "_Boggart_," although its visits are now

limited to once in seven years, when its thirst for vengeance has to be

satisfied by the untimely death of one of the residents at the Hall. A

Sir John Towneley is supposed to have injured the poor of the district,

nearly four hundred years ago, by "laying-in" a considerable portion of

common to his park, and, as a punishment for this offence, his soul is

said to haunt the scenes of his oppression. The peasantry still aver

"that the old knight's spirit, being unable to rest, wanders about the

mansion, and may be heard over the very parts taken in, crying, in most

piteous tones--

"Be warned! Lay out! Be warned! Lay out!

Around Hore-law and Hollin-hey clough:

To her children give back the widow's cot,

For you and yours there is still enough."[45]

The popular story of "The Boggart Flitting" is common to both Lancashire

and Yorkshire; and indeed to most of the nations in the North of Europe.

Of boggarts the Rev. William Thornber observes,[46] that there were

several different kinds, having their haunts in that part of the Fylde

near Blackpool; as, for instance, the wandering ghost of the homicide or

the suicide; that of the steward of injustice, or that of the victim of

a cruel murder; again, the lubber-fiends, the horse-boggarts, and the

house-boggarts, or industrious, yet mischievous imps, haunting

dwellings. He names, "The headless Boggart of White-gate Lane," as a

sample of the first class. So was "The Boggart of Staining Hall," near

Blackpool, said to be the wandering ghost of a Scotchman who was

murdered there near a tree, which has since marked the deed by perfuming

the soil around with a sweet odour of thyme. Of another kind were those

whose appearance was the forerunner of death in some families. The

Walmsleys, of Poulton-le-Fylde, he adds, were haunted by a boggart of

this description, always making its appearance with alarming noises

before the decease of one of the family.

Of the lubber-fiends, house-boggarts, or brownies, so strikingly

described by Milton,[47] Mr. Thornber mentions the ancient one of

Rayscar and Inskip, which at times kindly housed the grain, collected

the horses, and got them ready for the market; but at other times played

the most mischievous pranks. The famous "Boggart of Hackensall Hall"

had the appearance of a huge horse, which was very industrious if

treated with kindness. Every night it was indulged with a fire, before

which it was frequently seen reclining; and when deprived of this

indulgence by neglect, it expressed its anger by fearful outcries.

HORNBY PARK MISTRESS AND MARGARET BRACKIN.

The following story is told and believed by some persons in Hornby. The

Park Mistress may be supposed to be the ghost of Lady Harrington, who

committed murder three hundred years ago. Margaret Brackin was born in

1745, and died in 1795. The dialect is that of the locality:--

"In days that oud folks tell on still,

Meg Brackin went up Windy Bank;

Shou lated kinlin' on the hill,

Till owr t' Lake Mountains t' sun it sank.

Nat lang at efter t' sun was set,

And shou hed fill'd her brat wi' sticks,

Shou sid aside at t' Park wood yett,

A woman stan'in mang the wicks.

T' leaves on t' trees, they owm'ered t' land,

And fadin' was the summer light,

When Marget sid that woman stand

Donn'd like a ghoost o' oor i' white.

Marget was fear'd, but spak and ex'd,

'Hey Missis! let me gang wi' ye,

I hope as that ye'll nut be vext,

But it is gitten dark and dree.'

T' Park Mistress e'en shin'd o' wi' leet;

Shou whyatly cam te Marget's side;

T' gerss didn't bend underneath her feet;

Shou seem'd in t' air te float and glide.

As soon's shou cam whare Marget stood,

Shou gript a tight houd on her hand;

Shou led her first intul t' Park wood,

Then back and forret o' owr t' land.

They kept na road, they kept na path,

They went thro' brackins, scrogs, and briar,

Marget shou soon was out of breath,

But t' lady didn't seem te tire.

They baath com down te Wenning's brink,

And Marget's throat was dry wi' dread,

But shou dursn't ex te stop and drink,

Saa forret still that woman led.

Owr shillar and rough staans they trod,

Intu t' Wenning, then out fra t' stream;

Surlie their walkin' wasn't snod,

T' way they travell'd was naan saa weam.

Marget lous'd t' strings of her brat,

And trail'd it gerss and bushes through,

Till deg'd and damp and wet it gat;

Then suck'd it out for t' cooling dew.

Fra Weaver's Ayr they went up t' wood,

Now gaain' straight and then aslant,

They niver stopt, they niver stood,

But raac'd up t' brow saa rough and brant.

Marget could niver gradely say

Where nesht wi' t' ghoost shou went that neet;

On Windy Bank, when it was day,

They fun' her liggin, spent wi' freet.

Marget hed been stout and throddy,

But t' walk she tuk that summer neet,

Left lile fatness on her body;

At efter shou was thin and leet."

BOGGARTS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Having fallen into conversation with a working man on our road to Holme

Chapel, we asked him if people in those parts were now ever annoyed by

beings of another world. Affecting the _esprit fort_, he boldly

answered, "Noa! the country's too full o' folk;" while his whole manner,

and especially his countenance, as plainly said "Yes!" A boy who stood

near was more honest. "O, yes!" he exclaimed, turning pale; "the Boggart

has driven William Clarke out of his house; he flitted last Friday."

"Why," I asked; "what did the Boggart do?" "O, he wouldn't let 'em

sleep; he stripp'd off the clothes." "Was that all?" "I canna' say,"

answered the lad, in a tone which showed he was afraid to repeat all he

had heard; "but they're gone, and the house is empty. You can go and see

for yoursel', if you loike. Will's a plasterer, and the house is in

Burnley Wood, on Brown Hills."[48]

Edwin Waugh, in his story of "_The Grave of Grislehurst Boggart_,"[49]

says, the most notable boggart of the hilly district towards Blackstone

Edge, was the Clegg Ho' Boggart, still the theme of many a winter's tale

among the people of the hills above Clegg Hall. The proverb, "Aw 'm

heere agen, like Clegg Ho' Boggart," is common there, and in all the

surrounding villages.... Boggarts appear, however, to have been more

numerous than they are now upon the country side, when working people

wove what was called "one lamb's wool" in a day; but when it came to

pass that they had to weave "three lambs' wools" in a day, and the

cotton trade arose, boggarts, and fairies, and feeorin' of all kinds,

began to flee away from the clatter of shuttles. As to the Grislehurst

Boggart, here is part of the story as told to Waugh, or by him:--"Whau

it isn't aboon a fortnit sin' th' farmer's wife at the end theer yerd

seed summat i' th' dyhed time o' th' neet; an' hoo war welly thrut eawt

o' bed, too, besides--so then" ... "Th' pranks 'at it's played abeawt

this plaze at time an' time, 'ud flay ony wick soul to yer tell on ...

unyawkin' th' byes, an' turnin' carts an' things o'er i' th' deep neet

time; an' shiftin' stuff up and deawn th' heawse when folk are i' bed;

it's rayther flaysome yo may depend."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Thorpe's _Northern Mythology_, vol. i. pp. 118-231.

[2] See Mallet's _Northern Antiquities_, Keightley's _Mythology of

Greece and Rome_, and Kelly's _Indo-European Tradition and Folk-lore_.

[3] Keightley's _Fairy Mythology_, pp. 2, 3.

[4] Roby's _Traditions of Lancashire_, p. xiv.

[5] It may be stated that this introductory essay is abridged from two

papers read before the Historical Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, in

1859 and 1860, which were written long before the writer saw any of the

almost identical general deductions and conclusions in Dr. Dasent's

introduction to his _Popular Tales from the Norse_.

[6] This popular opinion appears to be very ancient and wide-spread; for

it has been noticed by Moses as prevailing in Egypt.--Exodus xi. 5-7.

[7] The use of the old style in effect, is not yet extinct in

Lancashire. The writer knows an old man, R. H., of Habergham, about 77

years of age, who always reckons the changes of the seasons in this

manner. He alleges the practice of his grandfather and father in support

of his method; and states with much confidence that--"Perliment didn't

change t' seeasuns wen thay chang'd t' day o't' munth."

[8] _Conybeare_, p. 242.

[9] Charnock's _Breviary of Natural Philosophy_ in Ashmole's _Theatrum

Chemicum_, p. 297.

[10] _Companion to Almanac_ for 1837, p. 22.

[11] Maier's _Symbola Ameæ Mensæ_.

[12] Thomson's _Annals of Philosophy_, n. s., vol. vi. p. 241.

[13] Ben Jonson, in his play of the _Alchemist_, has the following

lines:--

"But when you see th' effects of the Great Medium,

Of which one part projected on a hundred

Of Mercury, or Venus, or the Moon,

Shall turn it to as many of the Sun;

Nay to a thousand, so ad infinitum,

You will believe me."

[14] Godwin's _Lives of Necromancers_, Art. Dee. Dr. Dee's _Diary_

(Camden Soc.) contains many references to his alchemical pursuits.--See

pp. 7, 22, 25, 27, 28, 37, and 63.

[15] Brewster's _Life of Sir Isaac Newton_, vol. ii. p. 376.

[16] Preface to _Bibl. Chem. Curiosa_, quoted by Thomson, p. 18. For a

list of Boyle's works connected with alchemy, see the _Philosophical

Epitaphs_, by W. C.

[17] _Pictorial History of England_, vol. ii. p. 207.

[18] Baines's _Lancashire_.

[19] _Fœdera_, vol. ix. p. 379.

[20] _Rot. Parl._, vol. v. p. 314_a_.

[21] _Rot. Parl._, vol. v. p. 314_a_.

[22] _Worthies_, &c., p. 122.

[23] For a copy of this patent in the original Latin, see Baines's

_Lancashire_, vol. i. p. 406.

[24] Pennant's _London_.

[25] _History of his Life and Times._

[26] Lilly's _Life and Times_, p. 224.

[27] Whatton's _Memoir_ in Baines's _Lancashire_, vol. ii. p. 367.

[28] From Barnaby Googe's Translation of the _Regnum Papisticum_ (or

Popish Kingdom) of Naogeorgus, fol. 41 _b_.

[29] _Golden Legend._

[30] Hone's _Every-Day Book_, p. 141.

[31] See Durand's _Rationale_.

[32] Strutt's _Manners and Customs_, vol. iii. p. 176.

[33] Ray's _Collection of Old English Proverbs_.

[34] P. P., in _Notes and Queries_, vol. ix. p. 569.

[35] Thornber's _History of Blackpool_, p. 342.

[36] Toland's _History of the Druids_.

[37] Hone's _Every-Day Book_, vol. i. p. 594.

[38] _Gentleman's Magazine_, February, 1795.

[39] Mr. William Harrison's notes on Waldron's _Description of the Isle

of Man_, p. 125.

[40] Hampson's _Medii Ævi Kalendarium_, vol. i. p. 252.

[41] Rev. W. Thornber's _History of Blackpool_.

[42] _Passages in the Life of a Radical_, vol. i. p. 130.