When on Rylstonne’s height glow’d the morning light,
And, borne on the mountain air,
The Priorie[474] bell did the peasants tell
’Twas the chanting of matin prayer,
By peasant men, where the horrid glen
Doth its rugged jaws expand,
A corse was found, where a dark yew frown’d,
And marks were imprest on the dead man’s breast—
But they seem’d not by mortal hand.
In the evening calm a funeral psalm
Slowly stole o’er the woodland scene—
The harebells wave on a new-made grave
In “Burnsall’s church-yard green.”
That funeral psalm in the evening calm,
Which echo’d the dell around,
Was his, o’er whose grave blue harebells wave,
Who call’d on the Spectre Hound!
The above ballad is founded on a tradition, very common amongst the mountains of Craven. The spectre hound is Bargest. Of this mysterious personage I am able to give a very particular account, having only a few days ago seen Billy B——y, who had once a full view of it. I give the narrative in his own words; it would detract from its merit to alter the language.
Billy B——’s Adventure.
“You see, sir, as how I’d been a clock-dressing at Gurston [Grassington], and I’d staid rather lat, and may be gitten a lile sup o’ spirit, but I war far from being drunk, and knowed every thing that passed. It war about 11 o’clock when I left, and it war at back end o’t’ year, and a most admīrable [beautiful] neet it war. The moon war varra breet, and I nivvr seed Rylstone-fell plainer in a’ my life. Now, you see, sir, I war passin down t’ mill loine, and I heerd summut come past me—brush, brush, brush, wi’ chains rattling a’ the while; but I seed nothing; and thowt I to mysel, now this is a most mortal queer thing. And I then stuid still, and luik’d about me, but I seed nothing at aw, nobbut the two stane wa’s on each side o’t’ mill loine. Then I heerd again this brush, brush, brush, wi’ the chains; for you see, sir, when I stuid still it stopped; and then, thowt I, this mun be a Bargest, that sae much is said about: and I hurried on towards t’ wood brig, for they say as how this Bargest cannot cross a watter; but lord, sir, when I gat o’er t’ brig, I heerd this same thing again; so it mud either hev crossed t’ watter, or gone round by t’ spring heed! [About thirty miles!] And then I becam a valliant man, for I war a bit freeten’d afore; and thinks I, I’ll turn and hev a peep at this thing; so I went up Greet Bank towards Linton, and heerd this brush, brush, brush, wi’ the chains a’ the way, but I seed nothing; then it ceased all of a sudden. So I turned back to go hame, but I’d hardly reach’d t’ door, when I heerd again this brush, brush, brush, and the chains going down towards t’ Holin House, and I followed it, and the moon there shone varra breet, and I seed its tail! Then, thowt I, thou owd thing! I can say Ise seen thee now, so I’ll away hame. When I gat to t’ door, there war a girt thing like a sheep, but it war larger, ligging across t’ threshold of t’ door, and it war woolly like; and says I, ‘git up,’ and it wouldn’t git up—then says I, ‘stir thysel,’ and it wouldn’t stir itsel! And I grew valliant, and I rais’d t’ stick to baste it wi’, and then it luik’d at me, and sich oies! [eyes] they did glower, and war as big as saucers, and like a cruelled ball; first there war a red ring, then a blue one, then a white one; and these rings grew less and less till they cam to a dot! Now I war nane feer’d on it, tho’ it girn’d at me fearfully, and I kept on saying ‘git up,’ and ‘stir thysel,’ and t’ wife heerd as how I war at t’ door, and she cam to oppen it; and then this thing gat up and walked off, for it war mare feer’d o’ t’ wife than it war o’ me! and I told t’ wife, and she said it war Bargest; but I nivver seed it since, and that’s a true story!”
In the glossary to the Rev. Mr. Carr’s “Horæ Momenta Cravenæ,” I find the following—“Bargest, a sprite that haunts towns and populous places. Belg. birg, and geest, a ghost.” I really am not a little amused at Mr. Carr’s derivation, which is most erroneous. Bargest is not a town ghost, nor is it a haunter “of towns and populous places;” for, on the contrary, it is said in general to frequent small villages and hills. Hence the derivation may be berg, Germ., a hill, and geist, a ghost; i.e. a hill ghost: but the real derivation appears to me to be bär, Germ., a bear, and geist, a ghost; i.e. a bear ghost, from its appearing in the form of a bear or large dog, as Billy B——’s narrative shows.[475]
The appearance of the spectre hound is said to precede a death; which tradition will be more fully illustrated in my next legend, “[The Wise Woman of Littondale].” Like most other spirits Bargest is supposed to be unable to cross a water; and in case any of my Craven readers should ever chance to meet with his ghostship, it may be as well to say, that unless they give him the wall he will tear them to pieces, or otherwise illtreat them, as he did one John Lambert, who, refusing to let him have the wall, was so punished for his want of manners, that he died in a few days.