Part 22

Two hundred years have rolled away, since the generation that saw those events has vanished from the earth, and every tangible memorial of the island hero has been thought to have perished with him. Nevertheless, time has spared one fragile, though little noticed relic; for in the library of that most interesting of our northern English fanes, the Parish Church of Cartmel, whose age-stricken walls, so rich in examples of each style of Gothic architecture, rise but a few miles from the foot of the lake, in the centre of a vale of much beauty of a monastic character, there is retained upon the shelves a small volume in Latin, entitled "Vincentii Lirinensis hæres, Oxoniæ, 1631," on one of the blank leaves of which is this inscription in MS., the signature to which has been partly torn off:--

"For Mr Rob. Philipson. Inveniam, spero, quamvis Peregrinus, amicos: Mite peto tecum cominus hospitium. R----"

It is pleasing to dwell on this enduring testimony of regard for a man, whose portrait, as limned on the historic canvas, has hitherto been looked upon as that only of a bold unnurtured ruffler in an age of strife. Seen under the effect of this touch by the hand of friendship, a gentler grace illumes the air of one, whose unwavering principles and firm temper well fitted him to encounter the troubles of a stormy epoch, while, as long as the island itself shall endure, his heroic shadow rising over its groves, will cast the enthralling interest of a romantic episode upon a scene so captivating by its natural loveliness.

That the individual so addressed, was our Robin of Satanic notoriety, there cannot reasonably be a doubt, as the pedigree of the Crook Hall Philipsons does not recognise any other member of the family of that name, living between the time of the publication of the book, and the death of their last male heir. Neither is the genealogical tree of the Calgarth branch enriched with the name between that and 1652, when Christopher Philipson (of the house of Calgarth) who, amid the bitter struggle of parties, seems to have been devoted to the cultivation of letters, and who is supposed to have presented the book, along with others, to the library at Cartmel, died. Therefore to the successful soldier, whose actions gave to himself and his cause so chivalrous a colouring, alone, must the inscription be applied, the evidence it affords furnishing another illustration of the saying that "the Devil is not always as black as he is painted." But whether it be questionable that it was directed to the royalist Robin, or not, the probability is sufficiently great to justify what has been said on the subject.

Recent research through public archives has ascertained that the family of the Philipsons was established in Westmorland at least as far back as the reign of Edward III., for in an inquisition relative to the possessions of the chantry on Saint Mary's Holme, taken in 1355, the name of John Philipson is recorded as tenant to certain lands belonging to that religious foundation.

This family owned not only Calgarth Hall and extensive domains which reached along the shores of Windermere, from Low Wood to Rayrigg, consisting of beautiful woods and rich pastures, but also Crook and Holling Halls, with much of the surrounding country, as well as the large island in the centre of the lake, opposite to Bowness, in documents of the 13th century especially designated "Le Holme," but the earliest name of which was Wynandermere Isle, afterwards changed to the "Long Holme," which latter word signifies, in the old vernacular, "an island or plain by the water side," and in which they had a mansion of the old fashioned Westmorland kind, strongly fortified, called the Holme House.

Their alliances having connected them with many of the chief families of the county, they fixed their principal dwelling places at Holling, and at Crook or Thwatterden Halls; which latter abode in the time of Queen Elizabeth again became the seat of a younger branch of the house at Calgarth.

With Sir Christopher Philipson, the last heir male of the family of Crook Hall, who, according to Mr. West, lived in the Holme in 1705, and who died in that year, the race was extinguished. Their mouldered dust lies beneath the pavement in Windermere Church, and their homes, for the most part but grey and naked ruins, know them no more.

THE LAY OF LORD LUCY OF EGREMOND.

On that Mount surnamed "of Sorrow" Glass'd in Enna's winding flood, Looking forth through many a morrow Both the warriors, Lucies, stood; Stood beside the ramparts hoary, Brothers, vow'd their brows to wreathe In the Holy Land with glory, Or its sands to rest beneath.

Quietly the vale was lying, Farm and meadow, forge and mill, As the day-star faintly dying Paled above the eastern hill. But beneath the cullis'd portal Press'd the pent-up throng of war, Eager for the strife immortal With the Soldan's hosts afar.

Fame has all his soul's embraces-- Clasps Lord Lucy maid nor wife. As the warriors' vizor'd faces Turn towards the land of strife. Through the gate beneath the towering Pile they wind in shining mail. Soon afar the fortress lowering Sinks beneath them in the vale.

Scawfell saw them take the billow, Man by man on Cumbria's shore; Carmel's foot was first their pillow When again to land they bore. And in holy fight they bound them To their Saviour's service true; Fought and bled, through hosts around them, Till their ranks were faint and few.

Then beneath the foe contending, Faithful, fearless, but in vain, Lo, the brothers bound and bending Drag the hopeless captive's chain. In the Moslem dungeon wasting, England's bravest, both they lie; No sweet hope nor solace tasting, Only blank captivity.

Months have rolled; and moons are waning; Then stood Lucy forth and said,-- "Emir, over millions reigning! We are two in dungeon laid. I, who bore a noble's banner, I have halls and realms afar, Wealth which many a lordly manor Yields, beneath the western star.

"Let the Emir's heart be gracious! Free my brother at my side; And a ransom rich and precious We will bring o'er ocean wide. So we two, whose arms avail'd not Here our freedom to sustain, But whose constant courage fail'd not, May be Freedom's sons again."

Greed for gain o'er wrath prevailing Softened soon the tyrant's mind. Homewards one is swiftly sailing; Calmly one will wait behind. For a twelve-months thus they parted. Weary months, the year, went o'er. But that brother, evil-hearted, From the West return'd no more.

Then the Emir's soul no longer Would its vengeance stern forego; All his rage suppress'd the stronger, Burn'd, and burst upon his foe. And he bade his hair be knotted Into cords around a beam, There to chain him till he rotted, Where no light of heaven could gleam.

And in hunger sore he wasted; And his nails grew like a bird's; Day's sweet blesséd airs untasted, And no sound of human words! Changed in soul, and form, and feature, Ah! how changed from that fair mould. In which heaven had stamped its creature Man and warrior, mild as bold!

Yet one heart whose daily gladness Once had been, from latticed bower To look down on him in sadness Walking forth at evening hour; She, the Emir's fairest daughter, Sees brave Lucy now no more,-- Till unresting love has brought her Trembling to his dungeon's floor.

There, with one mute form attending, Swift her arm the faulchion drew Through his locks; the hatterel rending[22] From him, as it cleaved them through. And with words of woman-kindness Whisper'd she--"To light and air, Life and love, from dungeon blindness, Are we come the brave to bear."

And for love of him she bore him To a ship, wherein he rode Seaward till the bright sky o'er him Circled round his own abode. Then his castle-horn he sounded, Which none other's skill could sound, Where the traitor sat, confounded, With his bold retainers round.

But brave Lucy's soul forgave him All that wrong so foully done; Him who went not back to save him With the ransom he had won. Yea, and more: "From Duddon's borders Far as Esk, and from the sea To where Hard-knott's ancient warders Sleep," he said, "I give to thee.

"Here once more by vale and mountain, On these ramparts side by side, Wells up from my heart a fountain Wastes and dungeons have not dried." And his stately halls he entered, Borne mid cheers and warriors' clang; While a thousand welcomes, centred In one shout of triumph, rang.

High the feast and great the story Then that fill'd his ancient halls. Healths to Lucy's House and glory Shook the banners on the walls. And their deep foundations hail'd him With such echoes as were born When his own true breath avail'd him On the faithful Castle-horn.

And 'twas joy again to wander On his own fair fields, and chase There the wild wolf, and bring under The strong deer in deadly race. And if sometimes more the forest Won him, museful and alone; 'Twas when secret thoughts were sorest. Turn'd upon the past and gone.

But that lone and lordly bosom Sought no mate of high degree; Wooed no fair and beauteous blossom From a noble kindred tree,-- As might have beseem'd, to wear her Throned within a warrior's breast; Evermore to bloom, the sharer Of its love, its life, its rest.

So in field, and hall, and tourney, As he lived--upon a day, Wearied with a toilsome journey, Came a guest from far away; Feebly at his gate and humbly Asking, "Dwells Lord Lucy here?" But all question parried dumbly, Till the voice she sought was near.

Then indeed the sorrow-laden, Travel-stricken form sunk down; Slow the hatterel forth the maiden Drew; he knew her! 'twas his own! Knew her, as she stood before him On that barren Syrian shore, When from wrath and death she bore him Where no wrong might touch him more.

Bear her in! he tells them of her, Tells them all with eyeballs dim. Cannot be but he must love her, For she bears such love to him. She has left her father's mansion, Left her country, faith, and name, Travell'd o'er the sea's expansion, Him to find in life and fame.

Was there ever like devotion?-- Is he husband, father; she Who has braved the boundless ocean Will his serving maiden be. No! she shall abide in honour, One for ever at his side; Every gift and grace upon her That beseems a warrior's bride.

Then again his days were gladden'd With more joys than e'er of yore. And if thought at times was sadden'd With the memories which it bore, Clasping oft his wife with true love, He would say with whispering breath-- "Love is life indeed! for through love I am here, reprieved from death!"

And his soul's allegiance fail'd not That fair consort, all his days. And their blissful love--avail'd not Chance or time to quench its rays. Love unto his gate had brought her O'er the seas from far beyond. And with love the Emir's daughter Ruled the halls of Egremond.

But that kinsman, far divided From them by remorse and shame, Round his courts in secret glided Ghost-like--nevermore the same: Conscience-torn, repentant, weary, Burning, longing for the close Of that pilgrimage so dreary. Power had come, but not repose.

Shadows the rebuked and chastened, Worn-out warrior lowly laid. And from Bega's cloisters hastened Thrice the prior with his aid: Thrice: And ere the leaves had faded, Brave Lord Lucy clasped his breast;[23] Kiss'd him; and the convent shaded One more spirit into rest.

NOTES TO "THE LAY OF LORD LUCY OF EGREMOND."

The name of Egremont seems to be derived from its ancient possessors, the Normans, and being changed by a trifling corruption of their language, carries the same meaning, and signifies the Mount of Sorrow.

The charter of Richard de Lucy, granted to the burgesses in the time of King John, declares it to be given and confirmed "burgensibus meis de _Acrimonte_," &c.

William the Conqueror having established himself on the throne of England, and added the county of Cumberland, which he wrested from Malcolm, king of Scotland, to his northern possessions; he gave it, together with the barony of Westmorland, to Randolph or Ranulph du Briquesard, also surnamed le Meschin, Vicomte du Bessin, elder brother of William le Meschin. This nobleman was allied to the Conqueror by marriage with his niece, and was one of his numerous train of military adventurers. He was the first Norman paramount feudatory of Cumberland. When Ranulph granted out to his several retainers their respective allotments; reserving to himself the forest of Inglewood, he gave to his brother, William le Meschin, the great barony of Copeland, bounded by the rivers Duddon and Derwent, and the sea. The latter seated himself at Egremont and there erected a castle; and in distinction of this his baronial seat, he changed the name of the whole territory to that of the barony of Egremont. After possessing this estate with great power for several years, and dying without male issue, it devolved to his daughter Alice, married to Robert de Romili, Lord of Skipton. They having no male issue, these two great baronies descended to their only daughter Alice, who married William Fitz-Duncan, Earl of Murray, nephew to David, King of Scots. By this marriage there was issue a son, who died in infancy, and three daughters who divided the vast inheritance. To Amabil, the second daughter, the barony of Egremont came in partition; and by her marriage with Reginald Lucy, passed to that family. William Fitz-Duncan was Lord of the adjoining Cumbrian seigniory or honor of Cockermouth, and of the barony of Allerdale below Derwent, which large estates had descended to him from his mother Octreda, who inherited them from her grandfather Waldeof, first lord of Allerdale, to whom they had been granted by Ranulph de Meschin. Waldeof was the son of Gospatrick, Earl of Dunbar.

Particular mention is made of two only of the name of Lucy in succession: Reginald de Lucy, who was governor of Nottingham for the King, in the rebellion of the Earl of Leicester, and who also attended the coronation of Richard I. among the other Barons; and Richard de Lucy, his son, who, in the reign of King John, paid a fine of three hundred marks for the livery of all his lands in Coupland and Canteberge, _and to have the liberty of marrying whom he pleased_, &c. He married Ada, one of the two daughters and co-heiresses of Hugh de Morville; and obtained a grant from King John, by which he claimed and held the whole property of his father-in-law, without partition to the other daughter, Joane. He died before or about the 15th year of King John, leaving two daughters, between whom the estates were divided, and who both married into the Multon family.

At that time, and long after, it was a part of the King's prerogative to interfere in the marriages of his nobility.[24]

The subsequent acts of the widowed Ada de Lucy afford us a fine illustration of the exercise of this prerogative on the part of the sovereign in the matters of widows and heiresses. Ada paid a fine of five hundred marks for livery of her inheritance; as also for dowry of her late husband's lands; and that she might not be compelled to marry again. She espoused, however, without compulsion, and without the king's licence, Thomas de Multon; in consequence of which, the Castle of Egremont, and her other lands, were seized by the Crown. But upon paying a compensation, they were restored, and she had livery of them again. Her second husband, on his payment of one thousand marks to the crown, was made guardian over the two daughters, and co-heiresses, of her first husband, de Lucy: and as a necessary consequence, and, in fact, in accordance with the permission implied by the arrangement, he married them to his two sons by his first wife.

These two daughters and co-heiresses of Lucy having married the two sons of Thomas de Multon, the elder carried with her the lordship of Egremont; while the son of the younger assumed the surname of his maternal family, and was ancestor of the barons Lucy of Cockermouth. The infant daughter of Anthony, the third and last baron Lucy, dying in the year following his own demise, the barony was carried by the marriage of his sister Maude with the first Earl of Northumberland to the Percy family: thence to the Seymours, Dukes of Somerset; and through them to Wyndham, Earl of Egremont, by whose descendant, the first Lord Leconfield, it is at present enjoyed.

Egremont was anciently a borough, sending two members to parliament; but was disfranchised on the petition of the burgesses, to avoid the expense of representation. The burgesses possessed several privileges, but all records of them are lost. The ordinances of Richard de Lucy for the government of the borough is a curious record, in which several singularities are to be observed, which point out to us the customs of that distant age. By this burgage tenure, the people of Egremont were obliged to find armed men, for the defence of the Castle, forty days at their own charge. The lord was entitled to forty days' credit for goods, and no more; and his burgesses might refuse to supply him, till the debt which had exceeded that date was paid. They were bound to aids for the redemption of the lord and his heir from captivity; for the knighthood of one of the lord's sons, and the marriage of one of his daughters. They were to find him twelve men for his military array. They were to hold watch and ward. They could not enter the forest with bow and arrow. They were relieved from cutting off the dogs' feet within the borough, as being a necessary and customary defence: on the borders, the dogs appointed to be kept for defence, were called _slough dogs_: this privilege points out, that within the limits of forests, the inhabitants keeping dogs for defence were to lop off one foot or more, to prevent their chasing the game; which did not spoil them for the defence of a dwelling. A singular privilege appears in the case of a burgess committing fornication with the daughter of a rustic, one who was not a burgess; that he should not be liable to the fine imposed in other cases for that offence, unless he had seduced by promise of marriage. The fine for seducing a woman belonging to the borough was three shillings to the lord. By the rule for inspecting dyers, weavers, and fullers, it seems those were the only trades at that time within the borough under the character of craftsmen. The burgesses who had ploughs were to till the lord's demesne one day in the year, and every burgess to find a reaper: their labour was from morning _ad nonam_, which was three o'clock, as from six to three.

Egremont was probably a place of strength, and the seat of some powerful chief, during the Heptarchy, and in the time of the Danes. The ruins of the Castle, on the west of the town, stand on an eminence, the northern extremity of which forms a lofty mound, seventy-eight feet in perpendicular height above the ditch which surrounds the fortress. On the crown of this hill, it is believed, there formerly stood a Danish fortification. The mound is said to be artificial. Tradition goes so far as to assert that it is formed of soil brought by St. Bega from Ireland, as ballast for her ship. The miraculous power of the Saint must have been largely exercised to increase it to its present proportions. It still, however, retains the virtue given to Irish earth by the blessing of St. Patrick, and no reptile can live upon it.

This fortress is not of very great extent, but bears singular marks of antiquity and strength. The approach and grand entrance from the south, has been kept by a draw-bridge over a deep moat. The entrance to the castle is by a gateway vaulted with semi-circular arches, and guarded by a strong tower. The architecture of this tower, which is the chief part of the fortress now standing, points out its antiquity to be at least coeval with the entry of the Normans. The outward wall has enclosed a considerable area of a square form; but it is now gone so much to decay, that no probable conjecture can be made as to the particular manner in which it was fortified. On the side next the town a postern remains. To the westward, from the area, there is an ascent to three narrow gates, standing close together, and on a straight line, which have communicated with the outworks: these are apparently of more modern architecture, and have each been defended with a portcullis. Beyond these gates is the lofty mount, which has already been referred to, and on which anciently stood a circular tower, the western side of which endured the rage of time till within the last century. The whole fortification is surrounded by a moat, more properly so called than a ditch, as it appears to have been walled on both sides. This is strengthened with an outward rampart of earth, which is five hundred paces in circumference. A small brook runs on the eastern side of the Castle, and it may be presumed, anciently filled the moat. The mode of building which appears in part of the walls, is rather uncommon, the construction being of large thin stones, placed in an inclined position, the courses lying in different directions, so as to form a kind of feathered work, the whole run together with lime and pebbles, impenetrably strong. It seems to have been copied from the filling parts of the Roman wall.