Part 15

The following relation is given in the additions to Camden's Britannia, co. Bucks, p. 318. Tradition says the Black Prince, who held Hartwell, had large possessions at Prince's Risborough, where they show part of a wall of his palace, and a field where his horses were turned called Prince's Field, and repeat these lines on a supposed quarrel between him and one of the family of Hampden:

Hamden of Hamden did foregoe The manors of Tring, Wing, and Ivinghoe, For striking the Black Prince a blow.

RIBCHESTER.

It is written upon a wall in Rome Ribchester was as rich as any town in Christendom.

Camden says that Ribchester was famous for its remains of ancient art.

HAWLEY.

Blow the wind high, blow the wind low, It bloweth good to Hawley's hoe.

These lines are said to relate to one John Hawley, a wealthy merchant of Devon some centuries ago, who was fortunate in his shipping. According to Prince, p. 477, "so was the gentleman's habitation in that town (Dartmouth) call'd the Hoe or Haw."

GOTHAM.

Three wise men of Gotham Went to sea in a bowl; And if the bowl had been stronger, My song would have been longer.

Honour to whom honour is due! Mr. Lower will have it that Sussex is the county of the Gothamites. Gotham is near Pevensey, and many traditionary anecdotes are still current respecting the stupidity of the people of that town. On one occasion, the mayor, having received a letter, was reading it upside down, the messenger very respectfully suggested that he would sooner arrive at the meaning of its contents by reversing its position. "Hold your tongue, sir," replied the chief magistrate; "for while I am mayor of Pemsey, I'll hold the letter which eend uppards I like!"

BUCKLAND.

Buckland and Laverton, Stanway and Staunton, Childswickham, Wickamford, Badsey and Aston.

These are places in Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, and Somersetshire. Staunton is pronounced _Stawn_, and Aston is commonly called _Awn_.

COLEBROOK.

There were three cooks of Colebrook, And they fell out with our cook; And all was for a pudding he took From the three cooks of Colebrook.

GILLING.

Tradition informs us, but leaves us in ignorance as to the nature of the offence offered, that once upon a time, a long time ago, his satanic majesty took dire displeasure at the good folks of Hartforth, for some naughty trick, no doubt played upon him, during one of his visits to that locality; so finding a stone of enormous bulk and weight to the south of Gilling, his majesty, in his rage, raised the ponderous mass in one hand, and uttering this exclamatory couplet,—

Have at thee, Black Hartforth, But have a care o' Bonny Gilling!

cast it from him with all his strength. It would appear that the devil's vision is rather of a telescopic character; for, as luck would have it, he missed his aim, and the stone, which flew whizzing through the air, at last fell harmless far beyond the former place; and now lies, bearing the impression of his unholy fingers, on the rising ground to the north side of Gatherly Moor.[45]

[Footnote 45: Communicated by Mr. M. A. Denham.]

SHREWSBURY.

The inhabitants of Shropshire, and, it is said, especially Shrewsbury, have an unfortunate habit of misplacing the letter _h_. It is scarcely necessary to say that the failing is by no means peculiar to that county. I am unable to vouch for the antiquity of the following lines on the subject, but they have become proverbial, and are therefore worth giving:

The petition of the letter _H_ to the inhabitants of Shrewsbury, greeting,—

Whereas I have by you been driven, From house, from home, from hope, from heaven, And plac'd by your most learn'd society In exile, anguish, and anxiety, And used, without one just pretence, With arrogance and insolence; I here demand full restitution, And beg you'll mend your elocution.

To this was returned the following answer from the Shrewsburians:

Whereas we've rescued you, Ingrate, From handcuff, horror, and from hate, From hell, from horse-pond, and from halter, And consecrated you in altar; And placed you, where you ne'er should be, In honour and in honesty; We deem your pray'r a rude intrusion, And will not mend our elocution.

JACK ROBINSON.

There are few proverbial expressions more common than the saying, "As soon as you can say Jack Robinson," implying excessive rapidity. I have seen the phrase with the name of _Dick Robinson_, but failed to take a memorandum of it. It has since occurred to me that it may have originated in some way or other with the actor of that name mentioned by Ben Jonson. If, however, the following quotation from an "old play," given by Carr, be genuine, this conjecture must fall to the ground:

A warke it ys as easie to be doone, As 'tys to saye, Jack! robys on.

WRANGHAM.

Swing'em, swang'em, bells at Wrangham, Three dogs in a string, hang'em, hang'em.

A hit at the Cheshire provincial pronunciation of the _ng_.

LEICESTERSHIRE.

Higham on the hill, Stoke in the vale; Wykin for buttermilk, Hinckley for ale.

BROCKLEY-HILL.

No heart can think, nor tongue can tell, What lies between Brockley-hill and Penny-well.

Brockley-hill lies near Elstree, in Hertfordshire, and Penny-well is the name of a parcel of closes in the neighbourhood. See Stukeley's Itin. Cur. 1776, i. 118. This distich alludes to the quantity of old coins found near those places.

STANTON DREW.

Stanton Drew, A mile from Pensford, Another from Chue.

A Somersetshire proverb, mentioned by Stukeley, in the work above quoted, ii. 169.

SEVERN.

Blessed is the eye, That's between Severn and Wye.

Ray gives this proverb, but appears to misunderstand it, the first line not alluding to the prospect, but to an islet or ait in the river, though I have not met with the word _eye_ used in this sense. There can, however, be no doubt as to its meaning; probably from A.-S. eá.

SHERSTON MAGNA.

The following very curious observations on this town are extracted from an anonymous MS. in my possession, written forty or fifty years ago. I have never seen the lines in print. Aubrey, in his Natural History of Wiltshire, mentions the plant called _Danes-blood_, and derives the name from a similar circumstance. Some observations on Sherston may be seen in Camden, ed. Gough, i. 96. It is Sceor-stán, where the celebrated battle between the Anglo-Saxons and the Danes was fought in the year 1016, and prodigies of valour exhibited by the combatants.

"When a schoolboy, I have often traced the intrenchments at Sherston Magna, which are still visible on the north side of the town, and

## particularly in a field near the brow of a hill which overlooks a branch

of the river Avon, which rises a little below Didmarton; and with other boys have gone in quest of a certain plant in the field where the battle was said to have been fought, which the inhabitants pretended dropt blood when gathered, and called Danesblood, corruptly no doubt for _Danewort_, which was supposed to have sprung from the blood of the Danes slain in that battle. Among other memorials, the statue of a brave warrior, vulgarly called Rattlebone, but whose real name I could never learn, is still standing upon a pedestal on the east side of the church-porch, as I've been lately informed, where I saw it above fifty years ago: of whose bravery, almost equal to that of Withrington, many fabulous stories are told. One, in particular, like some of the Grecian fables of old, built upon the resemblance his shield bears to the shape of a tile-stone, which he is said to have placed over his stomach after it had been ripped up in battle, and by that means maintained the field; whilst the following rude verses are said to have been repeated by the king by way of encouragement:

Fight on, Rattlebone, And thou shalt have Sherstone; If Sherstone will not do, Then Easton Grey and Pinkney too."

NORTH ACRE.

The Lord Dacre Was slain in North Acre.

North Acre is or was the name of the spot where Lord Dacre perished at the battle of Towton in 1461. He is said to have been shot by a boy out of an elder tree.

BELLASIS.

[Communicated by Mr. Longstaffe.]

Johnny tuth' Bellas daft was thy poll, When thou changed Bellas for Henknoll.

This saying, as given by Surtees, is still remembered near Bellasis, and is preferable to Hutchinson's version of it from the east window of the north transept of St. Andrew's Auckland church, where he says, "are remains of an inscription painted on the glass; the date appears 1386; beneath the inscription are the arms of Bellasys, and in a belt round them the following words:

Bellysys Belysys dafe was thy sowel, When exchanged Belysys for Henknowell."

Collins (followed by Hutchinson), who gives the proverb as—

Belasise, Belassis, daft was thy nowle, When thou gave Bellassis for Henknowle,

connects it with a grant dated 1380, from John de Belasye to the convent of Durham, of his lands in Wolveston, in exchange for the Manor of Henknoll. But Bellasyse is not even within the Manor of Wolveston, and, in fact, the Manor of Bellasye was held by the Prior in 1361; and we can only account for the proverb by supposing that, at a former period, Bellasyse had been exchanged for lands, but not the manor of Henknoll. The legend dates the matter in crusading times, and is chivalric in the extreme. John of Bellasis, minded to take up the cross, and fight in Holy Land, found his piety sorely let and hindered by his attachment to the green pastures and deep meadows of his ancestors. With resolution strong, he exchanged them with the Church of Durham, for Henknoll, near Auckland. He went to fight, but lived it seems to return and repent his rash bargain. I descend by one step, from the sublime to the ridiculous, to mention how oddly more recent characters are wound round those of olden time, for a popular notion is that the Red-Cross Knight had enormous teeth, and was passionately addicted to "race-horses!" Children, moreover, have a dark saying when they leap off anything:

Bellasay, Bellasay, what time of day? One o'clock, two o'clock, three and away!

Miss Bellasyse, the heiress of Brancepeth, died for love of Robert Shafto, of Whitworth, whose portrait at Whitworth represents him as very young and handsome, with _yellow_ hair. He was the favorite candidate in the election of 1791, when he was popularly called Bonny Bobby Shafto; and the old song of the older Bobby, who, it seems, was also "bright and fair, combing down his _yellow_ hair," was revived with the addition of—

Bobby Shafto's looking out, All his ribbons flew about, All the ladies gave a shout— Hey, for Bobby Shafto!

The most ancient verses of the old song seem to be—

Bobby Shafto's gone to sea, Silver buckles at his knee; He'll come back and marry me, Bonny Bobby Shafto.

Bobby Shafto's bright and fair, Combing down his yellow hair; He's my ain for evermair, Bonny Bobby Shafto.

An apocryphal verse says,—

Bobby Shafto's getten a bairn, For to dangle on his arm— On his arm and on his knee; Bobby Shafto loves me.

KELLOE.

John Lively, Vicar of Kelloe, Had seven daughters and never a fellow.

An equivocal rhyme of the bishopric, which may either mean that the parson of the sixteenth century had no son, or that he had no equal in learning, &c. He certainly, however, mentions no son in his will, in which he leaves to his daughter Elizabeth, his best gold ring _with a death's head in it_ (Compare Love's Labour Lost, v. 2), and seventeen yards of white cloth for curtains of a bed, and to his daughter Mary his silver seal of arms, his gimald ring, and black gold ring. Another version of the proverb reads "_six_ daughters," and indeed _seven_ is often merely a conventional number.

ROSEBERRY-TOPPING.

"Not far from Gisborough is Ounsberry-hill, or Roseberry-topping, which mounts aloft and makes a great shew at a distance, serving unto sailors for a mark of direction, and to the neighbour inhabitants for a prognostication; for as often as the head of it hath its cloudy cap on, there commonly follows rain, whereupon they have a proverbial rhyme,

When Roseberry-topping wears a cap, Let Cleveland then beware a clap.

Near to the top of it, out of a huge rock, there flows a spring of water, medicinable for diseased eyes; and from thence there is a most delightful prospect upon the valleys below to the hills above."—Brome's Travels, 8vo. Lond. 1700.

LINCOLN.

"As for the town, though it flourished mightily for some years together after the Norman Conquest, by reason of a staple for wooll and other commodities, setled here by King Edward the Third; yet it met still with some calamities or other, which hindred its growth and eclipsed its grandeur, for it had its share of sufferings, both by fire and water, in King Stephen's days, about which time, it seems, though the king had at first been conquered and taken prisoner, yet he afterward entred into the city in triumph, with his crown upon his head, to break the citizens of a superstitious opinion they held, that no king could possibly enter into that city after such a manner, but some great disaster or other would befal him; but neither did it then, or by the barons' wars afterwards, sustain half the damages which of late years it hath received from the devouring hands of time, who hath wrought its downfal, and from a rich and populous city hath reduced it almost to the lowest ebb of fortune; and of fifty churches, which were all standing within one or two centuries, hath scarce left fifteen; so that the old proverbial rhymes (which go current amongst them) seem so far to have something of verity in them:

Lincoln was, and London is, And York shall be The fairest city of the three."—Ibid.

SKIDDAW.

"After we had passed these borders we arrived again safe in our own native soil, within the precincts of Cumberland, which, like the rest of the northern counties, hath a sharp piercing air; the soil is fertile for the most part both with corn and cattle, and in some parts hereof with fish and fowl; here are likewise several minerals, which of late have been discovered; not only mines of copper, but some veins of gold and silver, as we were informed, have been found; and of all the shires we have, it is accounted the best furnished with the Roman antiquities. Nor is it less renowned for its exceeding high mountains; for, beside the mountain called Wrye-nose, on the top of which, near the highway side, are to be seen three shire-stones within a foot of each other, one in this county, another in Westmoreland, and a third in Lancashire. There are three other hills, Skiddaw, Lanvalin, and Casticand, very remarkable. Skiddaw riseth up with two mighty high heads, like Parnassus, and beholds Scruffel Hill, which is in Annandale, in Scotland; and accordingly as mists arise or fall upon these heads, the people thereby prognosticate of the change of weather, singing this rhime:

If Skiddaw have a cap, Scruffel wotts full of that.

And there goes also this usual by-word concerning the height, as well of this hill as of the other two:

Skiddaw, Lanvellin, and Casticand, Are the highest hills in all England."—Ibid.

INGLEBOROUGH.

"Here are three great hills, not far distant asunder, seeming to be as high as the clouds, which are Ingleborow, Penigent, and Pendle, on the top of which grows a peculiar plant called cloudsberry, as though it came out of the clouds. This hill formerly did the country much harm, by reason of an extraordinary deal of water gushing out of it, and is now famous for an infallible sign of rain whensoever the top of it is covered with a mist; and by reason of the excessive height for which they are all three celebrated, there is this proverbial rhime goes current amongst them:

Ingleborow, Pendle, and Penigent, Are the highest hills betwixt Scotland and Trent."—Ibid.

THE KIRBY FEIGHT.

Eighty-eight wor Kirby feight, When nivver a man was slain; They yatt ther meaat, an drank ther drink, An sae com merrily heaam agayn.

After the abdication of James the Second, in the year 1688, a rumour was spread in the North of England that he was lying off the Yorkshire coast, ready to make a descent with a numerous army from France, in hopes of regaining his lost throne. This report gave the Lord Lieutenant of Westmoreland an opportunity of showing his own and the people's attachment to the new order of things; he accordingly called out the _posse comitatus_, comprising all able-bodied men from sixteen to sixty. The order was obeyed with alacrity; and the inhabitants met armed in a field called Miller's-close, near Kendal, from whence they marched to Kirby Lonsdale. This historical fact explains the above popular rhyme, the meaning of which is, at this day, perhaps not generally understood.—West. and Cumb. Dial. 89.

THORNTON.

At the Westgate came Thornton in With a hap, a halfpenny, and a lambskin.

A Newcastle distich relating to Roger Thornton, a wealthy merchant, and a great benefactor to that town. A _hap_ is a coarse coverlet of any kind.

ISLE OF MAN.

All the bairns unborn will rue the day That the Isle of Man was sold away; And there's ne'er a wife that loves a dram, But what will lament for the Isle of Man.

EARSDON.

Hartley and Hallowell, a' ya' bonnie lassie, Fair Seaton-Delaval, a' ya'; Earsdon stands on a hill, a' ya', Near to the Billy-mill, a' ya'.

IX.—SUPERSTITION-RHYMES.

Although the spread of education has doubtlessly weakened in an extraordinary degree the hold which superstition formerly maintained on the mind of the public, yet vestiges of the more innocent portions of superstitious belief are still in considerable repute amongst the lower orders, and may be found in all their force in many of the rural districts. It may be a question how far a complete eradication of these would benefit the cause of religion and morality, treason though it be in these times to doubt the efficacy of argumentative education. But all of us cannot be philosophers; and need we reprove a pretty village maiden for plucking the even-ash or four-leaved clover? The selfish tendencies of the age, in their opposition to every action which partakes of poetry or romantic belief, will effect their mission without the aid of the cynic.

CHARM-RHYMES.

The subject of rural charms, many of which are lineal descendants from those used by our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, is one of great interest and curiosity; and it were much to be wished that a complete collection of them were formed. The following one is taken from a manuscript of the time of Queen Elizabeth; the others are for the most part still in use.

_This charme shall be said at night, or against night, about the place or feild, or about beasts without feild, and whosoever cometh in, he goeth not out for certaine._

On three crosses of a tree, Three dead bodyes did hang; Two were theeves, The third was Christ, On whom our beleife is. Dismas and Gesmas; Christ amidst them was; Dismas to heaven went, Gesmas to heaven was sent. Christ that died on the roode, For Marie's love that by him stood, And through the vertue of his blood, Jesus save us and our good, Within and without, And all this place about! And through the vertue of his might, Lett noe theefe enter in this night Noe foote further in this place That I upon goe, But at my bidding there be bound To do all things that I bid them do! Starke be their sinewes therewith, And their lives mightles, And their eyes sightles! Dread and doubt Them enclose about, As a wall wrought of stone; So be the crampe in the ton (_toes_): Crampe and crookeing, And tault in their tooting, The might of the Trinity Save these goods and me, In the name of Jesus, holy benedicité, All about our goods bee, Within and without, And all place about!

_Warts._—Whoever will charm away a wart must take a pin and go to an ash-tree. He then _crosses_ the wart with the pin three times, and, after each crossing, repeats:

Ash-tree, ashen-tree, Pray buy this wart of me!

After which he sticks the pin in the tree, and the wart soon disappears, and grows on the tree instead. This must be done secretly. I need scarcely observe that the ash is sacred amongst all the Teutonic and Scandinavian nations.

_Another._—Take a bean-shell, and rub the wart with it; then bring the bean-shell under an ash-tree, and repeat:

As this bean-shell rots away, So my wart shall soon decay!

This also must be done secretly.

_The Hiccup._

Hickup, hickup, go away, Come again another day: Hickup, hickup, when I bake, I'll give to you a butter-cake.

_The Ague._—Said on St. Agnes's eve, sometimes up the chimney, by the oldest female in the family:

Tremble and go! First day shiver and burn: Tremble and quake! Second day shiver and learn: Tremble and die! Third day never return.

_Cattle._—Reginald Scot relates that an old woman who cured the diseases of cattle, and who always required a penny and a loaf for her services, used these lines for the purpose:

My loaf in my lap, My penny in my purse; Thou art never the better, And I am never the worse.

The same writer gives a curious anecdote of a priest who, on one occasion, went out a-nights with his companions, and stole all the eels from a miller's weir. The poor miller made his complaint to the same priest, who desired him to be quiet, for he would so denounce the thief and his confederates by bell, book, and candle, they should have small joy of their fish. Accordingly, on the following Sunday, during the service, he pronounced the following sentences to the congregation:

All you that have stol'n the miller's eels, Laudate Dominum de cælis; And all they that have consented thereto, Benedicamus Domino.

"So," says he, "there is sauce for your eels, my masters!"

"An old woman came into an house at a time whenas the maid was churning of butter, and having laboured long, and could not make her butter come, the old woman told the maid what was wont to be done when she was a maid, and also in her mother's young time, that if it happened their butter would not come readily, they used a charm to be said over it whilst yet it was in beating, and it would come straightways, and that was this:

Come, butter, come, Come, butter, come; Peter stands at the gate, Waiting for a buttered cake; Come, butter, come!

This, said the old woman, being said three times, will make your butter come, for it was taught my mother by a learned churchman in Queen Marie's days; whenas churchmen had more cunning, and could teach people many a trick that our ministers now-a-days know not."—Ady's Candle in the Dark, 1656, p. 59.

"There be twenty several ways," says Scot, 1584, "to make your butter come, which for brevity I omit, as to bind your churn with a rope, to thrust therein a red-hot spit, &c.; but your best remedy and surest way is to look well to your dairy-maid or wife, that she neither eat up the cream, nor sell away your butter."

_Effusion of Blood._—From Worcestershire.