Part 11

All the above Plates to be run for in the royal Manner, and any Dispute that may arise to be determined by the Stewards, or whom they shall appoint.

The several Plates will be paid without any Deduction or Perquisite.

{CHARLES HOWARD, jun., Esq. Stewards.{ {ANDREW WHELPDALE, Esq.

[pointing hand] A Cock Main, Ordinaries, and Assemblies, as usual.

Not less interesting than the foregoing announcement is the report of the event. There was never much attempt at descriptions, either of races or cock-fights, though one would like to know the names of the gentlemen indicated in this closing paragraph of the report: "At this Meeting a Main of Cocks was fought between the Gentlemen of Cumberland, David Smith, Feeder, and the Gentlemen of Westmoreland, Thomas Bownas, Feeder, which consisted of 21 Battles, 16 whereof were won by the former, and 5 by the latter; and of the 15 Bye-Battles Smith won 6, and Bownas 9."

Dalston was long the headquarters of cock-fighting in Cumberland--"Dalston Black-reeds" are still spoken of as the best birds of the kind in the world. There is a tradition to the effect that cock-fighting was once carried on at Rose Castle, in the parish of Dalston, but the Rev. J. Wilson[17] took particular pains to disprove the assertion. Against that must be put the following sentence which appeared in _Good Words_ for December, 1894: "One curious adjunct to an episcopal residence, speaking loudly of the change of manners and the amelioration of tastes, is the cock-pit, where matches are said to have been at one time fought for the amusement of the Bishop and his friends." The favourite day for cock-fights was Shrove Tuesday.

Cock-fighting was far from being the only barbarous sport enjoyed by the people of the northern counties. Bull-baiting and badger-baiting were probably never more popular than at the time when they were prohibited by law in 1835. There is still the bull ring at Appleby, and the spectators' gallery was removed within living memory. At Kirkoswald and several other market-places in the two counties the rings are still firmly fixed to which the bulls were tethered during the baiting process. Mr. W. Wilson, in his brochure on "Old Social Life in Cumberland," says: "In Keswick a large iron ring was formerly fixed in a stone block in the market-place; this was called the bull ring, and to this a bull, previous to being slaughtered, was fastened by the ring in its nose, and then baited and bitten by savage dogs amid dreadful bellowing till the poor beast was almost covered with foam, and quite exhausted. Great excitement prevailed when a bull was being baited, and large numbers assembled to witness the sport. On such occasions the market-place at Keswick was crowded, and many in order to obtain a good view, might be seen sitting on the roofs of the adjoining houses. Beyond the excitement which the exhibition produced among the spectators, the system was thought to be of great value in improving the quality of the beef, an aged bull being especially tough unless well baited before slaughtering. When the flesh of a bull was exposed for sale, it was the rule in Keswick and probably elsewhere, to burn candles during the day on the stall on which the meat was exposed for sale, in order that customers might be aware of the quality of the meat sold there." In some other places in the two counties the penalty for killing and selling an unbaited bull was 6s. 8d.

For a very long period archery was practised in Cumberland and Westmorland not only as a means of defence and attack, but also as a recreation. The numerous places called "Butts," or bearing synonymous names, indicate that few towns neglected to set apart a shooting ground. In his "Survey of the Lakes" Clarke blamed the severity of the game laws for keeping up skill in archery amongst the poachers in the forests of the north-western counties. He added: "It was this that produced so many noted archers and outlaws in the forest of Englewood as well as that of Sherwood. For not to mention Adam Bell and his partners, tradition still preserves the names of Watty of Croglin, Woodhead Andrew, Robin O'th'Moor's Gruff Elleck (Alexander), and of several others as of persons distinguished in that line even amongst the people who were almost to a man of the same stamp. Besides, as their squabbles and the subsequent maraudings made the skill thus acquired at times absolutely necessary to the inhabitants on each side of the boundary, we may easily conclude that a necessity of this kind, continually kept alive, must produce no small degree of dexterity.

"Whoever will consider the circumstances of the battles which were then fought, will find that wherever the ground or circumstances favoured the archer for a number of regular discharges, they generally produced such a confusion, particularly amongst the enemy's horse, as gave the men-at-arms of their own party an opportunity of easily completing it. I need cite no further particulars of this than the battle of Homildon, when the forces of the Northern Marches encountered the gallant Archibald, Earl of Douglas; the men-at-arms stood still that day, and the bowmen had the whole business upon their hands. It is recorded that no armour could resist their arrows, though that of Earl Douglas and his associates had been three years in making. It would seem, indeed, that the Scots excelled in the use of the spear, and (excepting the Borderers) neglecting the bow; since one of their own kings is thought to have recommended its more general use by ridiculing their imperfect management of it."

The Kendal bowmen celebrated the prowess of their fore-elders of the same name by establishing a competition and festival for September 9th in each year. It was on that day in 1513 that the Kendal bowmen were particularly distinguished in the battle of Flodden Field. The prizes shot for every year were a silver arrow and a medal, the members appearing in a uniform of green, with arrow buttons; the cape green velvet with silver arrow; the waistcoat and breeches buff, and the shooting jacket was of green and white striped cotton.

Whitehaven also had its Society of Archers, and in 1790 had a medal designed by Smirke as a trophy for competition. On one side were the bugle-horn, quiver, and bow, above them being the words, "Per Has Victoriam," and underneath the three place-names, "Poictiers," "Cressy," and "Agincourt." On the reverse was the name of the shooting ground, Parton Green, and the date, while round the edge were the words, "Captain's Medal, Cumberland Archers."

The Kendal "Boke of Recorde" contains several references to the pastimes of Westmerians from two to three centuries ago. On one occasion it was ordered by the Corporation "That whosoever do play at the football in the street and break any windows, shall forfeit upon view thereof by the Mayor or one of the Aldermen in the ward where the fault is committed the sum of 12d. for every time every party, and 3s. 4d. for every window by the same broken, and to be committed till it be paid, the constable looke to it to present it presently at every Court day." That knur and spell, the game so popular still in Yorkshire, was once a favourite pastime in Kendal is attested by the following entry, dated April, 1657: "It is ordered by the Court that all such persons, inhabitants within this borough, above the age of twelve years, that hereafter shall play in the streets at a game commonly called Kattstick and Bullvett shall forfeit and incur the penalty of 12d. for every offence, to be levied of their goods, and where they have no goods to be imprisoned two hours."

The somewhat questionable glories of Workington Easter football play have passed away, partly in consequence of the occupation of a portion of the playing ground by railways and works, and not less because of a change of feeling. How long these Easter Tuesday matches between "Uppies" and "Downeys" have gone on no man can tell. Half a century ago it was reported in the _Pacquet_ that the game in 1849 "was played with all the vigour of former days, from times beyond 'the memory of the oldest inhabitant.'" The goals are about a mile apart, one being a capstan at the harbour, and the other the park wall of Workingham Hall. There are no rules except those suggested by cunning and skill, while brute force is of the greatest importance. If the ball is "haled" over the park wall a sovereign is given by the owner of the estate to the winners, and of course it is spent in liquor. The players sometimes number hundreds, and thousands of people attend as spectators.

In several places in the two counties "mock mayors" were annually elected, and the occasion at Wreay was marked by somewhat uncommon festivities. The Rev. A. R. Hall, Vicar of the parish, in a lecture delivered some time ago, gave an account of these Shrovetide observances, which made the village famous in its way. Up to 1790 the chief feature was a great cock-fight, managed by the boys at school. A hunt of harriers subsequently took the place of the cock-fight, this being followed by a public dinner, and the election of the mayor. Sometimes this functionary belonged to Wreay, and sometimes came from Carlisle; in the latter case, those who wished to keep up the due dignity of the office chartered a coach-and-four for the accommodation of their friends. Racing and jumping were features in the sports, the prizes for which were hats. The old silver bell used to ornament the mayor's wand of office. In 1872, unfortunately, the bell was stolen, and Wreay lost this relic, which had been connected for 217 years with its Shrovetide festivities. In 1880 the hunt and the election of mayor both came to an end.

Befitting its importance in the calendar, Christmas seems to have always held the first place in popularity among the holidays and festivals of the year. In the summer season Whitsuntide--which marks the end of one term of farm service--was the most popular. At Christmas "the treat circulated from house to house, and every table was decorated in succession with a profusion of dishes, including all the pies and puddings then in use. Ale possets also constituted a favourite part of the festive suppers, and were given to strangers for breakfast before the introduction of tea. They were served in bowls, called doublers, into which the company dipped their spoons promiscuously; for the simplicity of the times had not yet seen the necessity of accommodating each guest with a basin or soup plate. The posset cup shone as an article of finery in the better sort of houses; it consisted of pewter, and was furnished with two, three, or more lateral pipes, through which the liquid part of the compound might be sucked by those who did not choose the bread. This plentiful repast was moistened with a copious supply of malt liquor, which the guests drank out of horns and the wooden cans already mentioned. The aged sat down to cards and conversation for the better part of the night, while the young men amused the company with exhibitions of maskers, amongst whom the clown was the conspicuous character; or parties of rapier-dancers displayed their dexterity in the sportive use of the small-sword. In the meantime the youth of both sexes romped and gambolled promiscuously, or sat down not unfrequently to hunt the rolling-pin."

The Gowrie Plot is brought to mind by a record in the Greystoke books that is unusually quaint in its style: "1603, August, ffrydaye the v{th} day was comnded for to be keapt holy daye yearely from cessation of laybour w{th} gyvinge of thanks for the kyngs most excelent matye for his ma{tyes} p'servation and deliverance from the Crewell Conspiracie practized against his mat{ies} pson in Scotland that v{th} daye of August, 1600." Three years sufficed for this celebration; then Gunpowder Plot came in for notice, as is seen from an item dated November 5th, 1606: "The sayde daye was Kenges holy day, and one sermon by M{r} pson the xi Isaie 2 verse." The chronicler followed this registration of his text by a list of the names of the chief people in the parish who attended the service.

The shearing days used to be high festivals on the fells and in the dales of both counties. Now the gatherings have been deprived of some of their most characteristic features; and even the chairing is almost forgotten. Richardson's chapter on "Auld Fashint Clippins and Sec Like," in "Stwories at Ganny uset to Tell," relates how the chairing used to be done. The song, once an indispensable item in the programme, may now and again be heard, lustily shouted by the dalesmen. After declaring that "the shepherd's health--it shall go round," the chorus continues:

"Heigh O! Heigh O! Heigh O! And he that doth this health deny, Before his face I him defy. He's fit for no good company, So let this health go round."

The coronation of a monarch was invariably made the occasion for merry-making by the consumption of much ale by the common folk, especially by bell-ringers and others who could have the score discharged by the churchwardens. There is such an entry in the Crosthwaite books relating to the coronation of George the First. In 1821, November 5th, there was "spent in ale at Nicholas Graves 5s." This worthy who was parish clerk at Crosthwaite for fifty-six years, was also the owner of a public-house in the town, and among his other qualifications was that of being will-maker for many of the inhabitants. At Penrith, Kendal, Carlisle, and many other places the church bells were set ringing, bonfires lighted, and ale barrels tapped--usually at the expense of the churchwardens--on very small provocation.

Among other festivals now no longer observed, and probably forgotten, was that known as Brough Holly Night. In a little pamphlet published between thirty and forty years ago the following note on the subject was printed, but the writer has been unable to ascertain when the custom was last seen in the old Westmorland town: "On Twelfth Night, at Brough, the very ancient custom of carrying the holly-tree through the town is observed. There are two or three inns in the town which provide for the ceremony alternately, though the townspeople lend a hand to prepare the tree, to every branch of which a torch composed of greased rushes is affixed. About eight o'clock in the evening the tree is taken to a convenient part of the town, where the torches are lighted, the town band accompanying and playing till all is completed, when it is carried up and down the town, preceded by the band and the crowd who have now formed in procession. Many of the inhabitants carry lighted branches and flambeaus, and rockets, squibs, etc., are discharged on the occasion. After the tree has been thus paraded, and the torches are nearly burnt out, it is taken to the middle of the town, where, amidst the cheers and shouts of the multitude, it is thrown among them. Then begins a scene of noise and confusion, for the crowd, watching the opportunity, rush in and cling to the branches, the contention being to bear it to the rival inns, 'sides' having been formed for that purpose; the reward being an ample allowance of ale, etc., to the successful competitors. The landlord derives his benefit from the numbers the victory attracts, and a fiddler being all ready, a merry night, as it is called here, is got up, the lads and lasses dancing away till morning."

There were once many wells and springs in the two counties which were held in more than common regard by the inhabitants, and corresponded to the Holy Wells of other districts. Between sixty and seventy years ago this was written of a custom once common at Skirsgill, about a mile from Penrith: "Upon the sloping lawn is a remarkably fine spring; its water is pure and sparkling, and was formerly held in such veneration that the peasantry resorted to it, and held an annual fair round its margin. In descending a flight of stone steps, you perceive inside a drinking cup, and over the door-top, neatly cut in stone, the form of a water jug." Cumberland is said to have had nearly thirty Holy Wells, and of one of these Mr. Hope tells us[18] that "The Holy Well near Dalston, Cumberland, was the scene of religious rites on stipulated occasions, usually Sundays. The villagers assembled and sought out the good spirit of the well, who was 'supposed to teach its votaries the virtues of temperance, health, cleanliness, simplicity, and love.'"

The various well festivals in the Penrith district have all passed away, as has a once popular gathering of another kind, known as Giant's Cave Sunday. The assemblies were at "the hoary caves of Eamont," about three miles from Penrith, and the late Rev. B. Porteus, then Vicar of Edenhall, wrote of them nearly forty years ago: "The picnics are of frequent occurrence at this picturesque and romantic spot; and have been occasionally patronised by special culinary demonstrations by the hospitable proprietor of the estate. Giant's Cave Sunday is still observed, but the custom has dwindled into insignificance, the 'shaking bottles' carried by the children at that season being the only remains of what it has been. But it affords a pleasant walk to the people of Penrith, as it has probably done since the time when the caves were the residence of a holy man."

Among the festivities now to be numbered among bygone things must be mentioned the Levens Radish Feast, which had much more than a local fame. In the time of Colonel Grahme there was great rivalry between the houses of Dallam Tower and Levens. The former once invited every person who attended Milnthorpe Fair to partake of the good cheer provided in the park, a piece of hospitality which irritated the Colonel very much. As a consequence, the following year when the Mayor and Corporation of Kendal went to proclaim the fair, he took them to Levens, and provided such a royal entertainment that the civic fathers gladly accepted the invitation for succeeding years. The fair sex were rigidly excluded. Long tables were placed on the bowling green, and spread with oat bread, butter, radishes, and "morocco," a kind of strong beer, for which the Hall was famed. After the feast came the "colting" of new visitors, and various amusements that are better to read about than witness.

On the Road.

Few parts of England could have been so inaccessible as were Cumberland and Westmorland prior to the middle of the last century. Roads were scarce, unless the dignity of the name be given to the rough tracks which served for the passage of pack-horses, and even these did not reach a great number, having regard to the area which they served. There was little to call the people away from home, to London and other great centres of industry. The journey from the north to the Metropolis was such a great undertaking that men who had any possessions to leave behind them almost invariably made their wills before starting out. The richer sort, of course, rode their horses, and an interesting account of the journey was left by Henry Curwen, of Workington Hall, as to his trip to London in 1726. The most accessible route was very roundabout--by Penrith, Stainmore, Barnard Castle, York, and so through the eastern counties. This journey on horseback occupied thirteen days, including four which were utilised for visiting friends on the way. The roads he described as being very bad, and a ride of thirty-two miles he declared to be equal to fifty measured miles.

People with fewer guineas to spare had of necessity to walk. "Manufacturers made their wills, and settled their worldly affairs, before taking a long journey, and many of them travelled on foot to London and other places, to sell their goods, which were conveyed on the backs of pack-horses."[19] Even more recently pedestrian excursions from Mid Cumberland to London have been undertaken; there was the well-known case of Mally Messenger, who died in August, 1856, at the age of ninety-three years. Several times before she attained middle age Mally walked to London and back to Keswick, a distance of 286 miles in each direction. On one occasion she was passed by a Keswick man on horseback, who by way of a parting message remarked, "Good-day, Mally; I'll tell them in Keswick you're coming." The pedestrian, however, was the better traveller, for she often used to boast afterwards that she reached Keswick first.

When old-time Bamptonians wanted to see the Metropolis they could not go to Shap or Penrith and thence be carried by excursions for considerably under a sovereign. This is how the vicar went on foot in 1697, as recorded in the parish registers: "Feb. the 7 did Mr. Knott set forward for London, got to Barking to Mr. Blamyres, Friday, March the fourth, to London March the seaventh, remained there 8 weekes and 2 dayes, came out May the 5, 1698, gott to Bampton Grainge, May the 20, at night."

Even apart from the perils which beset travellers during the times of the Border forays, there were many things which must have restrained the average Cumbrian and Westmerian from wandering far abroad. To those who were obliged to walk or ride far, the old hospitals must have been very welcome institutions. One of these, of which all traces have long been lost, was the hospital on the desolate and remote fells of Caldbeck. "Out of Westmorland and the east parts of Cumberland there lying an highway through Caldbeck into the west of Cumberland, it was anciently very dangerous for passengers to travel through it, who were often robbed by thieves that haunted those woody parts and mountains. Thereupon Ranulph Engain, the chief forester of Englewood, granted licence to the Prior of Carlisle to build an hospital for the relief of distressed travellers who might happen to be troubled by those thieves, or prejudiced by the snows or storms in winter." The Prior made the enclosure, and doubtless the hospice was a boon to many a wayfarer; the population increased, a church was established, and in the time of King John, the hospital being dissolved, the property of the secular institution was handed over to the Church, and to this day the manor is known as Kirkland. The need for former protection of the kind is still preserved in a landmark in the parish, "the Hawk," or as the local pronunciation has it, "Howk." This grotto was a noted meeting-place for thieves.

Even the King's Judges were not exempted from the perils of the road. Hutchinson's description of Brampton says that "The judges, with the whole body of barristers, attorneys, clerks, and serving men, rode on horseback from Newcastle to Carlisle, armed and escorted by a strong guard under the command of the sheriffs. It was necessary to carry provisions, for the country was a wilderness which afforded no supplies. The spot where the cavalcade halted to dine, under an immense oak, is not yet forgotten. The irregular vigour with which criminal justice was administered shocked observers whose lives had been passed in more tranquil districts. Juries, animated by hatred, and by a sense of common danger, convicted house-breakers and cattle-stealers with the promptitude of a court-martial in a mutiny; and convicts were hurried by scores to the gallows."