There are great numbers of small superstitions, beliefs, and practices which we must place under this general head. Before entering on these at length, we may briefly notice the fact in many cases, the probability in a still greater number, that the origin of superstitions still held to the popular heart, is to be found in other countries and in remote times. Indeed Folk-lore superstitions may be said to be the dÉbris of ancient mythologies; it may be of Egypt or India, Greece or Rome, Germany or Scandinavia. Many of the following superstitions have been already glanced at or briefly referred to in the introductory chapter.

POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS.

Lancashire, like all other counties, has its own peculiar superstitions, manners, and customs, which find no parallels in those of other localities. It has also, no doubt, many local observances, current opinions, old proverbs, and vulgar ditties, which are held and taken in common with the inhabitants of a greater extent of country, and differ merely in minor particulars,—the necessary result of imperfect oral transmission. The following are a few of these local superstitions:—

1. If a person's hair, when thrown into the fire, burns brightly, it is a sure sign that the individual will live long. The brighter the flame, the longer life; and vice versÂ.

2. A young person lightly stirs the fire with the poker to test the humour of a lover. If the fire blaze brightly, the lover is good-humoured; and vice versÂ.

3. A crooked sixpence, or a copper coin with a hole through, is accounted a lucky coin.

4. Cutting or paring the nails of the hands or feet, on a Friday or Sunday, is very unlucky.

5. If a person's left ear burn, or feel hot, somebody is praising the party; if the right ear burn, then it is a sure sign that some one is speaking evil of the person.

6. Children are frequently cautioned by their parents not to walk backwards when going an errand; it is a sure sign that they will be unfortunate in their objects.

7. Belief in witchcraft is still strong in many of the rural districts. Many believe that others have the power to bewitch cows, sheep, horses, and even persons to whom the witch has an antipathy. One respectable farmer assured me that his horse was bewitched into a stable through a loophole twelve inches by three! The fact, he said, was beyond doubt, for he had locked the stable-door himself when the horse was in the field, and had kept the key in his pocket. Soon afterwards a party of farmers went through the process known as "burning the witch out," or "killing the witch" as some express it; the person suspected soon died, and the neighbourhood became free from his evil doings.

8. A horse-shoe is still nailed behind many doors to counteract the effects of witchcraft. A hagstone with a hole through, tied to the key of the stable-door, protects the horses, and, if hung up at the bed's head, the farmer also.

9. A hot iron put into the cream during the process of churning, expels the witch from the churn. Dough in preparation for the baker is protected by being marked with the figure of a cross.

10. Warts are cured by being rubbed over with a black snail; but the snail must afterwards be impaled upon a hawthorn. If a bag, containing as many pebbles as a person has warts, be tossed over the left shoulder, it will transfer the warts to whomsoever is unfortunate enough to pick up the bag.

11. If black snails are seized by the horns and tossed over the left shoulder, the process will ensure good luck to the person who performs it.

12. Profuse bleeding is said to be instantly stopped by certain persons, who pretend to possess the secret of a certain form of words or charm.

13. The power of bewitching, producing evil to persons by wishing it, &c., is supposed to be transmitted from one possessor to another when one of the parties is about to die.

14. Cramp is effectually prevented by placing the shoes with the toes just peeping from beneath the coverlet; or by tying the garter round the left leg, below the knee.

15. Charmed rings are worn by many for the cure of dyspepsia; and so also are charmed belts for the cure of rheumatism.

16. A red-haired person is supposed to bring ill-luck, if he be the first to enter a house on New Year's Day. Black-haired persons [are on the contrary deemed so lucky that they] are rewarded with liquor or small gratuities for "taking in the New Year" to the principal houses in their respective neighbourhoods.

17. If any householder's fire does not burn through the night of New Year's Eve, it betokens bad luck through the ensuing year. If any one allow another to take a live coal, or to light a candle, on that eve, the bad luck extends to the grantor.[101]

Amongst other Lancashire popular superstitions are the following:—

That a man must never "go a courting" on a Friday. If an unlucky fellow is caught with his lady-love on that day, he is followed home by a band of musicians, playing on pokers, tongs, pan-lids, &c., unless he can rid himself of his tormentors by giving them money for drink.

That whooping-cough will never be taken by any child that has ridden upon a bear. The old bearward's profits arose in great part from the money given by parents whose children had had a ride. The writer knows of cases in which the charm is said to have been effectual.

That whooping-cough may be cured by tying a hairy caterpillar in a small bag round the child's neck, and as the caterpillar dies the cough goes.

That Good Friday is the best day of all the year to begin weaning children, which ought, if possible, to be put off till that day.

That May cats are unlucky, and will suck the breath of infants.

That crickets are lucky about a house, and will do no harm to those who use them well; but that they eat holes in the worsted stockings of such members of the family as kill them. I was assured of this on the experience of a respectable farmer's family.

That ghosts or boggarts haunt certain neighbourhoods. There is scarcely a dell in my vicinity where a running stream crosses a road by a small bridge or stone plat, where such may not be seen. Wells, ponds, gates, &c., have often this bad repute. I have heard of a calf with "eyes like saucers," a woman without a head, a white greyhound, a column of white foam like a large sugar loaf in the midst of a pond, or group of little cats, &c., as the shape of the boggart; and sometimes it took that of a lady, who jumped behind hapless passengers on horseback. It is supposed that a Romish priest can lay them, and that it is best to cheat them to consent to being laid "while hollies are green." Hollies being evergreens, the ghosts can reappear no more.[102]

Mr. J. Eastwood, of Ecclesfield, adds to T. T. W.'s seventeen superstitions the following six:—

1. If a cock near the door crows with his face towards it, it is a sure prediction of the arrival of a stranger.

2. If the cat frisk about the house in an unusually lively manner, windy or stormy weather is approaching.

3. If a dog howl under the window at night, a death will shortly happen in the house.

4. If a female be the first to enter a house on Christmas or New Year's Day, she brings ill-luck to the house for the coming year.

5. For whooping-cough, pass the child nine times over the back and under the belly of an ass. (This ceremony I once witnessed, but cannot vouch for its having had the desired effect.)

6. For warts, rub them with a cinder, and this tied up in paper, and dropped where four roads meet [i.e., where two roads cross] will transfer the warts to whoever opens the parcel.[103]

BONES OF ST. LAWRENCE, AT CHORLEY.

In the parish church of Chorley, within the porch of the chancel, which belongs to the Standish family of Duxbury, four bones were shown, apparently thigh bones, said to have belonged to Saint Lawrence, the patron saint, which were brought over from Normandy by Sir Rowland Standish, in 1442, along with the head of that saint, which skull has, amongst the Harl. MSS.,[104] a certificate of a vicar of Croston, to which Chorley was then subject, preserved with the arms of the knight (azure, 3 plates) rudely tricked:—"Be it known to all men that I, Thomas Tarlton [or Talbot] vicar of the church of Croston, beareth witness and certify, that Mr. James Standish, of Duxbury, hath delivered a relique of St. Laurence's head unto the church of Chorley, the which Sir Rowland of Standish, knight, brother of the said James, and Jane his wife, brought out of Normandy, to the worship of God and St. Lawrence, for the profit and avail of the said church; to the intent that the foresaid Sir Rowland Standish, and Dame Jane his wife, with their predecessors and successors, may be in the said church perpetually prayed for. And in witness of the which to this my present writing I have set my seal. Written at Croston aforesaid, the 2nd day of March, in the year of our Lord God, 1442." [20 Hen. VI.][105] St. Lawrence's Day is August 10. As his martyrdom was said to be roasting alive upon a gridiron, it is not clear how his thigh bones should be preserved. But when we find there are four of them, the miraculous character of the relics is at once exhibited.

THE DEAD MAN'S HAND.

At Bryn Hall, now demolished, once the seat of the Gerards, was a Roman Catholic Chapel and a priest, who continued long after the family had departed, having in his custody "The Dead Man's Hand," which is still kept by the same or another priest, now residing at Garswood. Preserved with great care, in a white silk bag, it is still resorted to by many diseased persons, and wonderful cures are said to have been wrought by this saintly relic. It is said to be the hand of Father Arrowsmith,—a priest who is stated to have been put to death at Lancaster for his religion, in the time of William III. The story goes, that when about to suffer, he desired his spiritual attendant to cut off his right hand, which should then have the power to work miraculous cures on those who had faith to believe in its efficacy. Not many years ago, a female sick of the small-pox had this dead hand lying in bed with her every night for six weeks, in order to effect her recovery, which took place.[106] A poor lad, living in Withy Grove, Manchester, afflicted with scrofulous sores, was rubbed with it; and though it had been said he was miraculously restored, on inquiry the assertion was found incorrect, inasmuch as he died in about a fortnight after the operation.[107] Not less devoid of truth is the tradition that Arrowsmith was hanged for "witnessing a good confession."

Having been found guilty of a rape (says Mr. Roby), in all probability this story of his martyrdom, and of the miraculous attestation to the truth of the cause for which he suffered, were contrived for the purpose of preventing the scandal that would have come upon the church through the delinquency of an unworthy member. A subordinate tradition accompanies that already related. It is said that one of the family of the Kenyons attended as under-sheriff at the execution, and that he refused the culprit some trifling favour at the gallows; whereupon Arrowsmith denounced a curse upon him,—to wit, that whilst the family could boast of an heir, so long they should never want a cripple; which prediction was supposed by the credulous to have been literally fulfilled.[108] Mr. Roby, professing to give the fact upon which he founded one of his tales, accuses the unfortunate priest of rape, and states that he was executed for that crime in the reign of William III. All this Mr. Roby gives as from himself, and mentions a curse pronounced by Father Arrowsmith upon the under-sheriff who executed him, in the reign of William III. Now Arrowsmith was hung, under sanction of an atrocious law, for no other reason but because he had taken orders as a Catholic priest, and had endeavoured to prevail upon others to be of his own faith. For this offence, and for this offence alone, in 1628,—in the reign not of William III., but of Charles I.,—he was tried at Lancashire Assizes, and hanged, drawn, and quartered, in the same year that Edmund Ashton, Esq., was sheriff. Mr. Roby must have seen what was the real state of the case in the same history of Lancashire[109] as that which he repeatedly quotes.[110]

The hand of Arrowsmith, having been cut off after his death, was brought to Bryn Hall, where it was used by the superstitious to heal the sick, sometimes by the touch, and at others by friction: faith, however, is essential to success, and a lack of the necessary quality in the patient, rather than any decrease in the healing emission from the relic, is made to account for the disappointment which awaits the superstitious votaries of this fanatical operation. The "dead man's hand," or, as the Irish harvestmen are accustomed to call it, "the holy hand," was removed from Bryn to Garswood, and subsequently to the priest's house at Ashton, near Lancaster, where it remains in possession of the priest, if the light and knowledge of the present age have not consigned it to the earth.[111] A Roman Catholic publication, issued in 1737, signed by nineteen witnesses, seventeen of whom were Protestants (the names being withheld, however, as it is alleged, for prudential reasons), attest, that in 1736, a boy of twelve years, the son of Caryl Hawarden, of Appleton-within-Widness, county of Lancaster, was cured of what appeared to be a fatal malady by the application of Father Arrowsmith's hand, which, according to the narrative, was effected in the following manner:—The boy had been ill fifteen months, and was at length deprived of the use of his limbs, with loss of his memory, and impaired sight. In this condition, which the physicians had declared hopeless, it was suggested to his parents, that as wonderful cures had been effected by the hand of "the martyred saint," it was advisable to try its effects upon their afflicted child. The "holy hand" was accordingly procured from Bryn, packed in a box, and wrapped in linen. Mrs. Hawarden having explained to the invalid her hopes and intentions, applied the back part of the dead hand to his back, stroking it down each side the backbone, and making the sign of the cross, which she accompanied with a fervent prayer that Jesus Christ would aid it with his blessing. Having twice repeated this operation, the patient, who had before been utterly helpless, rose from his seat, and walked about the house, to the surprise of seven persons who had witnessed the "miracle." From that day the boy's pains left him, his memory was restored, and his health became re-established! The witnesses add, that the boy, on being afterwards interrogated, said that he believed the hand would do him good, and that upon its first touch he felt something give a short or sudden motion from his back to the end of his toes![112]

Another account states that Father Edmund Arrowsmith, of the Society of Jesus, was a native of Haydock, in the parish of Winwick, and was born in 1585. In 1605 he entered the Roman Catholic College of Douay, where he was educated, and in 1612 he was ordained priest. His father's name was Robert Arrowsmith, and his mother, Margery, was a lady of the ancient family of the Gerards. In 1613 Father Arrowsmith was sent upon the English mission, and in 1628 (4th Charles I.) was apprehended and brought to Lancaster on the charge of being a priest, contrary to the laws of the realm. He was tried, sentenced to death, and executed on the 28th of August, 1628, his last words being "Bone Jesu!" He was afterwards cut down, embowelled, and quartered. His head was set upon a pole or stake amongst the pinnacles of Lancaster Castle, and his quarters were hung upon four separate places of the same building. The hand of the martyr, having been cut off after his death, was brought to Bryn Hall [amongst his maternal relatives], where it was preserved as a precious relic, and by the application of which numerous miraculous cures are said to have been effected. "The holy hand" was removed from Bryn to Garswood [in Ashton, a seat of the Gerards], and subsequently to the priest's house at Ashton-in-Makerfield, where it still remains.[113] While the relic remained at Garswood, it was under the care of the Gerards' family-chaplain for the time being, and a fee was charged for its application to all who were able to pay, and this money was bestowed in charity on the needy or distressed. It is believed that no fee is now charged. The late Sir John Gerard had no faith in its efficacy, and many ludicrous anecdotes are current in the neighbourhood of pilgrims having been rather roughly handled by some of his servants, who were as incredulous as himself;—such as getting a good beating with a wooden hand (used for stretching gloves), and other heavy weapons; so that the patients rapidly retraced their steps, without having had the application of the "holy hand." The applicants usually provide themselves with a quantity of calico or flannel, which the priest of St. Oswald's, Ashton, causes to come in contact with the "dead hand;" the cloth is then applied to the part affected. Many instances are recorded of persons coming upon crutches or with sticks, having been suddenly so far restored as to be able to leave behind them these helps, as memorials, and return home, walking and leaping; praising the priest for his charity; the holy hand, for being the means of obtaining a cure; and God for giving such power to the dead hand. Persons have been known to come from Ireland, and other distant parts, to be cured. Some of these return home with a large piece of the cloth which has been in contact with the hand. This they tear into shreds, and dispose of them to the credulous neighbours who have not the means of undertaking so long a pilgrimage. About four years ago (writes our informant), I saw a poor maniac being dragged along by two or three of her relatives, and howling most piteously. I asked what they were going to do with her, when one of them (apparently her mother) replied: "And sure enough, master, we're taking her to the priest, to be rubbed with the holy hand, that the devil may leave her." A short time afterwards I saw them returning, but the rubbing had not been effectual. A policeman assisted to remove the struggling maniac to a neighbouring house, till a conveyance could be got to take her to Newton Bridge railway station.[114]

NINETEENTH CENTURY SUPERSTITION.

Will it be credited that thousands of people have, during the past week, crowded a certain road in the village of Melling, near Ormskirk, to inspect a sycamore tree, which has burst its bark, and the sap protrudes in a shape resembling a man's head? Rumour spread abroad that it was the re-appearance of Palmer, who "had come again, because he was buried without a coffin!" Some inns in the neighbourhood of this singular tree reaped a rich harvest.[115]

Pendle Forest, in the neighbourhood of Burnley, has long been notorious for its witches. [After referring to the cases of alleged witchcraft in the beginning of the 17th century, the writer continues:] Two hundred years have since passed away, and yet the old opinions survive; for it is notorious that throughout the Forest the farmers still endeavour to

Clay or wax images, pierced through with pins and needles, are occasionally met with in churchyards and gardens, where they have been placed for the purpose of causing the death of the persons they represent. Consumptive patients and paralytics are frequently said to be bewitched; and the common Lancashire proverb, "Draw blood of a witch, and she cannot harm you," has been many times practically verified upon quarrelsome females within my own experience. In extreme cases the "witch-killer" is resorted to, and implicit faith in his powers is not a rare item in the popular creed. Such a person usually combines the practice of Astrology with his other avocations. He casts nativities; gives advice respecting stolen property; tells fortunes; and writes out "charms" for the protection of those who may consult him.... Even the wives of clergymen have been known to consult "wise men" on doubtful matters respecting which they desired more satisfactory information.—T. T. W.

EAST LANCASHIRE SUPERSTITION.

Strong minds often are unable to escape the thraldom of tradition and custom, with the help of liberal education and social intercourse. How then are the solitary farmers on the skirts of moorland wastes, to free themselves from hereditary superstition? The strength of such traditions is often secret and unacknowledged. It nevertheless influences the life; it lurks out of sight, ready to assert its power in any great crisis of our being. It is a homage to the unseen and the unknown, in fearful contradiction with the teaching of Christianity, for it creates, like the religion of the Jezzidies, a ritual of propitiation to malignant powers, instead of the prayer of faith to the All-merciful. The solitude of the life in the moorland farm-houses does not, however, foster the influence of superstitious madness, perhaps, so much as the wild, stormy climate, which holds its blustering reign through six months of every year, in this region of morass and fog, dark clough, and craggy chasm. Night shuts in early. The sun has gone down through a portentous gulf of clouds which have seemed to swallow up the day in a pit of darkness. The great sycamores stagger in the blast which rushes from the distant sea. The wind moans through the night like a troubled spirit, shakes the house as though it demanded admittance from the storm, and rushes down the huge chimney (built two centuries ago for the log fires, and large, hot heap of wood ashes), driving down a cloud of smoke and soot, as though by some wicked cantrip the witches careering in the storm would scatter the embers and fire the building. The lone watcher by some sick bed, shudders as the casements are battered by the tempest; or the bough of some tree, or a branch of ivy, strikes the panes like the hand of some unseen thing fumbling at the casement latch; or, awake from pain or care, restless with fever or fatigue, or troubled with superstitious horror, the lone shepherd waits for the day, as for a reprieve to conscious guilt, and even trembles while he mutters some charm to exorcise the evil that rides exulting on the storm. A year of ill-luck comes. The ewes are barren; the cows drop their untimely calves, though crooked sickles and lucky stones have been hung in the shippons. The milk is "bynged," or will not churn, though a hot poker has been used to spoil the witchery. The horses escape from the stable at night, though there is a horse-shoe over the door, and the hinds say they were carefully "heawsed an' fettled, and t'dooers o weel latched, bur t'feeorin (fairies) han 'ticed 'em eawt o' t' leawphooles, an' flown wi' em' o'er t'stone dykes, wi' o t'yates tynt (gates shut), an' clapp'd 'em reet i' t' meadow, or t' corn, just wheer tey shudna be." As the year advances, with such misadventures, apprehension grows. Is there some evil eye on the house? Will the hay be spoiled in the field? Will the oats ripen, or must they be cut green and given to the cattle? Or, if they ripen, will the stormy autumn wrap its mantle of mist and rain so closely about them, that they cannot be housed before they have sprouted, or have spoiled? The cold, bitter damp benumbs the strength of the feeble. Appetite and health fail; a fear creeps into the life. Fate seems to have dragged the sufferer into a vault of gloom, to whisper foreboding and inspire dread. These traditions of mischief wrought by malignant men inheriting the wicked craft and vindictive spite of the sorcerers, are uttered at the fireside, or if not so uttered, are brooded upon by a disturbed fancy.[116]

SUPERSTITIOUS FEARS AND CRUELTIES.

John Webster, the great exposer of shams and denouncer of superstitions in his day, and author of the "Discovery of pretended Witchcraft," speaking of a clear head and sound judgment as necessary to competent witnesses, says:—"They ought to be of a sound judgment, and not of a vitiated and distempered phantasy, nor of a melancholic constitution; for these will take a bush to be a bugbear, and a black sheep to be a demon; the noise of the wild swans flying high in the night, to be spirits; or, as they call them here in the north, 'Gabriel Ratchets;' the calling of a daker hen in the meadow, to be the Whistlers; the howlings of the female fox in a gill or clough for the male, to be the cry of fairies." The Gabriel Ratchets seem to be the same with the German Rachtvogel or Rachtraven. The word and the superstition are still known in Lancashire, though in a sense somewhat different; for the Gabriel Ratchets are supposed to be something like litters of puppies yelping in the air. Ratch is certainly a name for a dog in general (see Junius, in voce). The whistlers are supposed to be the green or whistling plovers, which fly very high in the night, uttering their characteristic note. Speaking of the practices of witch-finders, Webster says:—"By such wicked means and unchristian practices, divers innocent persons have lost their lives; and these wicked rogues wanted not greater persons (even of the ministry too) that did authorize and encourage them in their diabolical courses. And the like in my time happened here in Lancashire, where divers, both men and women, were accused of supposed witchcraft, and were so unchristianly and inhumanly handled, as to be stripped stark naked and laid upon tables and beds to be searched for their supposed witch-marks; so barbarous and cruel acts doth diabolical instigation, working upon ignorance and superstition, produce."[117]

SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEFS IN MANCHESTER IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

At no period in the history of Manchester was there a greater disposition to believe in witchcraft, demoniacal possession, and the occult sciences, than at the close of the sixteenth century. The seer, Edward Kelly, was ranging through the country, practising the black art. Dr. Dee, the friend and associate of this impostor, had recently obtained the appointment of warden of the Collegiate Church of Manchester, by favour of his royal patroness, Queen Elizabeth, herself a believer in his astrological calculations; and the fame of the strange doings [the alleged demoniacal possession of seven persons] in the family of Mr. Starkie, had spread far and wide. The new warden was really a learned man, of the most inquisitive mind, addicted to chemical pursuits, not wholly unconnected with those of alchemy, and not altogether detached from the practice of necromancy and magic, notwithstanding his positive asseverations to the contrary, in his petition to King James. His life was full of vicissitudes; though enjoying the patronage of princes, he was always involved in embarrassments, and was at length obliged to relinquish his church preferment at Manchester, owing to the differences that existed between himself and his ecclesiastical brethren. It does not appear that during his residence in Lancashire he encouraged the deceptions of the exorcists. On the contrary he refused to become a party in the pretended attempt to cast out devils at Cleworth, and he strongly rebuked Hartlay, the conjuror, who was afterwards executed at Lancaster for his disgraceful practices.

WELLS AND SPRINGS.

Water, everywhere a prime necessity of life, is pre-eminently so in the hot and arid plains and stony deserts of Asia and Africa. We need not be surprised, therefore, to find that in all the ancient Eastern cults and mythologies, springs and wells were held in reverence, as holy and sacred gifts to man from the Great Spirit of the universe. The great Indo-European tide of migration, rolling ever westward, bore on its bosom these graceful superstitions, which were eagerly adopted by the old church of Christendom; and there is scarcely an ancient well of any consequence in the United Kingdom which has not been solemnly dedicated to some saint in the Roman Catholic calendar.

Wells near Liverpool.—At Wavertree, near Liverpool, is a well bearing the following inscription, "Qui non dat quod habet, dÆmon infra videt: 1414" (Who giveth not what he hath, the devil below, seeth—or, if the last word be not videt but ridet—laughs). Tradition says that at one period there was a cross above it, inscribed "Deus dedit, homo bibit" (God gave it, man drinks it); and that all travellers gave alms on drinking. If they omitted to do so, a devil who was chained at the bottom of the well, laughed. A monastic building stood near, and the occupants received the contributions.[118] A well at Everton, near Liverpool, has the reputation of being haunted, a fratricide having been committed there; but it is not mentioned in the local history of Syer, which merely says,—"The water for this well is procured by direct access to the liquid itself, through the medium of a few stone steps: it is free to the public, and seldom dry." Being formerly in a lonely situation, it was a haunt of pickpockets and other disorderly characters. It is now built over, and in a few years the short subterranean passage leading to the well will be forgotten.[119]

Peggy's Well.—Peggy's Well is near the Ribble, in a field below Waddow Hall, not far from Brunckerley stepping-stones, in attempting to cross by which several lives have been lost, when the river was swollen by a rapid rise, which even a day's rain will produce. These calamities, as well as any other fatal accidents that occur in the neighbourhood, are usually attributed to Peggy, the evil spirit of the well. There is a mutilated stone figure by the well, which has been the subject of many strange tales and apprehensions. It was placed there when turned out of the house at Waddow, to allay the terrors of the domestics, who durst not continue under the same roof with this mis-shapen figure. It was then broken, either from accident or design, and the head, some time ago, as is understood, was in one of the attic chambers at Waddow. Who Peggy of the Well was, tradition doth not inform us.

The writer of the Pictorial History of Lancashire states that going to Waddow Hall he inquired after the headless stone statue known as "Peg o' th' Well;" and a neat, intelligent young woman, one of the domestics, showed him Peggy's head on the pantry table, and the trunk by a well in an adjacent field. He gives the following as the substance of the tradition:—The old religion had been supplanted in most parts of the country, yet had left memorials of itself and its rites in no few places, nor least in those which were in the vicinity of an old Catholic family, or a monastic institution. Some such relic may Peggy have originally been. The scrupulous proprietors of Waddow Hall regarded the innocuous image with distrust and aversion; nor did they think themselves otherwise than justified in ascribing to Peggy all the evils and mischances that befel in the house. If a storm struck and damaged the house, Peggy was the author of the damage. If the wind whistled or moaned through the ill-fitting doors and casements, it was "Peggy at her work," requiring to be appeased, else some sad accident was sure to come. On one occasion Master Starkie—so was the host named—returned home very late with a broken leg. He had been hunting that day, and, report said, made too free with the ale afterwards. But, as usual, Peggy bore the blame: for some dissatisfaction she had waylaid the master of the house and caused his horse to fall. Even this was forgiven. A short time afterwards a Puritan preacher was overtaken by a fresh in the river, in attempting to cross over on the stepping-stones which lay just above the Hall, the very stones on which poor King Henry (VI.) was captured. Now, Mrs. Starkie had a great attachment to those preachers, and had indeed sent for the one in question, for him to exorcise and dispossess her youngest son, a boy of ten years of age, who was grievously afflicted with a demon, or, as was suspected, tormented by Peggy. "Why does he not come?" asked the lady, as she sat that night in her best apparel, before a blazing fire and near a well-furnished table. "The storm seems to get worse. Hark! heard ye no cry? Yes! there again. Oh, if the dear man be in the river! Run all of ye to his rescue." In a few minutes two trusty men-servants returned, panting under the huge weight of the dripping parson. He told his tale. "'Tis Peg," she suddenly exclaimed, "at her old tricks! This way, all!" She hurried from the apartment, rushed into the garden, where Peggy stood quiet enough near a spring, and with one blow of an axe, which she had seized in her passage, severed Peggy's head from her body.

St. Helen's Well in Brindle.—Dr. Kuerden in one of his MSS., describing the parish of Brindle in Leyland, states that "Over against Swansey House, a little towards the hill, standeth an ancient fabric, once the manor-house of Brindle, where hath been a chapel belonging to the same; and a little above it, a spring of very clear water, rushing straight upwards into the midst of a fair fountain, walled square about in stone and flagged in the bottom, very transparent to be seen, and a strong stream issuing out of the same. This fountain is called St. Ellen's Well, to which place the vulgar neighbouring people of the Red Letter [i.e., Roman Catholics] do much resort with pretended devotion on each year upon St. Ellins-day—[St. Helen's-day is either on May 21, August 18, or September 3, the two first being days of a queen, and the last of an empress saint]—where and when, out of a foolish ceremony, they offer or throw into the well, pins, which there being left, may be seen a long time after by any visitor of the fountain."[120]

St. Helen's Well, near Sefton.—Mr. Hampson[121] notices the superstition of casting pins or pebbles into wells, and observing the circles formed thereby on the surface of the agitated water, and also whether the water were troubled or preserved its clearness and transparency; from which appearances they drew omens or inferences as to future events. He adds: "I have frequently seen the bottom of St. Helen's Well, near Sefton, Lancashire, almost covered with pins, which, I suppose, must have been thrown in for the like purposes."