Lays and Legends of the English Lake Country. John Pagen White
the mountain district, where the line of division is not very distinct, is performed perhaps once during each generation, by the representatives of the lord of the manor, accompanied by an immense straggling procession of all ages—the old men being made useful in pointing out important or disputed portions of the boundary, and the young in having it impressed on their memories, so that their evidence or recollection may be made available in future peregrinations. In older times, when the interests of the lords outweighed farther than in our own day the rights of the peasantry, certain youthful members of the retinue, in order to deepen the impression and make it more enduring, were severely whipped at all those points which the stewards were most anxious to have held in remembrance. The occasions always wind up with a banquet, provided on a most liberal scale by the lord of the manor, and open to all who take part in the business of the day.
Another local usage connected with the landed interest, and long observed with notable regularity, was the following. When salmon was plentiful in the Cumberland rivers, and formed a very important element in the ordinary living of the occupants of adjoining lands, the tenants of the manor of Ennerdale and Kinniside claimed "a free stream" in the river Ehen, from Ennerdale lake to the sea, and assembled once a year to "ride the stream." If obstructions were found, such as weirs and dams, they were at once destroyed. Refreshments were levied or provided at certain places on the river for the cavalcade. This custom has long ceased to be observed.
About a quarter of a mile to the south east of this place is an old ivy-mantled ruin, designated Wall Castle. It is said to have been the original residence of the Penningtons, but in all probability it dates from a much remoter period. Stone battle-axes and arrow-heads have been found around it, and coins of different people, principally Roman and Saxon. The building is strongly cemented with run lime.
This old castle stands at no great distance from the second cutting through which the railroad passes after leaving Ravenglass: adjoining to which, a little below the surface of the ground, an ancient fosse and several foundations of walls have been laid bare by the owner of the estate, and large quantities of building stone removed from them at various times. In making this cutting, the workmen laid open an ancient burial place, which was of great depth, and contained a quantity of human remains, with several bones of animals. The sides were secured by strong timber and stone work. The buried bodies were very numerous, and the place was evidently of very great antiquity. From the presence of oak leaves and acorns, charred wood, etc., it has been supposed to have been the tomb of the victims in some Druidical sacrifice: it being known that the Druids immolated their criminals, by placing them collectively in the interior of a large image of wickerwork, and then setting fire to it; and that various animals were sacrificed along with them by way of expiation.
About five miles to the east of Ravenglass is the small lake of Devoke Water, near the foot of which, on the summit of a considerable hill, stand the ruins of another interesting piece of antiquity, the so-called city of Barnscar or Bardscar. Its site is so elevated, as to command a wide extent of country, and an ancient road from Ulpha to Ravenglass passes through it. The name is purely Scandinavian, and tradition ascribes it to the Danes. A well known popular saying in the locality refers to the manner in which this city is said to have been peopled by its founders, who gathered for inhabitants the men of Drigg and the women of Beckermet. The original helpmates of the latter place are supposed to have fallen in battle: what had become of the wives and daughters of the former place is not averred. But the saying continues—"Let us gang togidder like t' lads o' Drigg, an' t' lasses o' Beckermet."
The description of this place given by Hutchinson at the latter end of last century is as follows:—"This place is about 300 yards long, from east to west; and 100 yards broad, from north to south; now walled round, save at the east end, near three feet in height; there appears to have been a long street, with several cross ones: the remains of housesteads, within the walls, are not very numerous, but on the outside of the walls they are innumerable, especially on the south side and west end; the circumference of the city and suburbs is near three computed miles; the figure an oblong square." It is added that about the year 1730, a considerable quantity of silver coin was found in the ruins of one of the houses, concealed in a cavity, formed in a beam; none of which unfortunately has been preserved, to throw light upon the name, the race, or character and habits of its possessors.
From the Pow to the Duddon innumerable objects of interest lie scattered between the mountains and the sea coast, of which little more can be said than was stated, as above, by Camden's editor—"Some tell you abundance of stories about them"—as well as "about King Eveling, who had his palace here."
SIR LANCELOT THRELKELD.
The widows were sitting in Threlkeld Hall;
The corn stood green on Midsummer-day;
Their little grand-children were tossing the ball;
And the farmers leaned over the garden wall;
And the widows were spinning the eve away.
They busily talk'd of the days long gone,
While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day;
How old Sir Lancelot's armour had shone
On the panels of oak by the broad hearthstone,
Where the widows sat spinning that eve away.
For, Threlkeld Hall of his mansions three—
Where the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—
Was his noblest house; and a stately tree
Was the good old Knight, and of high degree;
And a braver rode never in battle array.
Now peaceful farmers think of their corn—
The corn so green on Midsummer-day—
Where once, at the blast of Sir Lancelot's horn,
His horsemen all mustered, his banner was borne;
And he went like a Chief in his pride to the fray.
And there the good Clifford, the Shepherd-Lord,
When the corn stood green on Midsummer-day,
Sat, humbly clad, at Sir Lancelot's board;
And tended the flocks, while rusted his sword
In the hall where the widows were spinning away;
Till the new King called him back to his own—
When the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—
To his honours and name of high renown;
When Sir Lancelot old and feeble had grown;
From his rude shepherd-life called Lord Clifford away.
And sad was that morrow in Threlkeld Hall—
And the corn was green on that Midsummer-day—
When the Clifford stood ready to part from all;
And his shepherd's staff was hung up on the wall,
In that room where the widows sat spinning away.
And Sir Lancelot mounted, and called his men—
While the corn stood green on Midsummer-day—
And he gazed on Lord Clifford again and again;
And Sir Lancelot rode with him over the plain;
And at length with strong effort his silence gave way.
"I am old," Sir Lancelot said; "and I know—
When the corn stands green on Midsummer-day—
There will wars arise, and I shall be low,
Who ever was ready to arm and go!"—
For he loved the war tramp and the martial array.