I wanted to post an image of Chapel Well, a holy well near Great Ayton to accompany another story by Richard Blakeborough.
Chapel Well is today a small hollow in a small patch of brambly wood called, not surprisingly, Chapel Wood. There is not much sign of any water — I suppose the hydrology has been completely altered by the railway and whinstone quarry.
So that’s the corner of Chapel Wood on the right. The well features in this story by Blakeborough which was published in 1906 in the Northern Weekly Gazette1Jennet o’ t’ Dales. | Northern Weekly Gazette | Saturday 09 November 1901 | British Newspaper Archive’. 2022. Britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk <https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0003075/19011109/158/0021> [accessed 27 September 2022].
JENNET o’ t’ DALES.
BY RICHARD BLAKEBOROUGH.
Towards the evening of one Good Friday, many years ago, a maiden of charming appearance, with downcast eyes and faltering steps, wended her way to the Holy Well, near to the foot of Roseberry.
“I never could have dreamt that Maggie would have been so foolish nay wicked. She knows that Alf. Hauxwell and myself were little sweethearts for years before I went to stay with Aunt Jenny, and now when I return home again, alter four years absence, and he tells me that he has never forgotten me during all that time, and I confess that I have never forgotten him, and — and — well!” and then a deep blush dyes her neck and face, as the maiden whispers to herself, “At last I confessed my love for him and I do love him truly; and then for Maggie Bane to call me such names as she did, and declare she would be revenged upon us — it’s dreadful, dreadful, and she must mean it, for Alf himself saw her cross the doorstone of Au’d Nanny, the witch, and stay with the dreadful creature for over an hour. And I make no doubt that she then procured some evil spell from the dame, with which she caused my Alf to be thrown from his horse, and be held in a fever. But I will try the power of the well, which I trust may be sufficiently potent to overmaster any ill which yon old hag hath power to work.”
Thus communing with herself, bonny Susie Burnett came to the Chapel or Holy Well. In those days the well at all times presented the appearance of a rag shop, or bleaching ground, for depending from every bush and branch thereof hung, in some whole undergarments of both sexes, together with scores of scraps torn from others, in cases when those who were ailing were too poor to spare a whole garment. For was it not well known that, when an ailing one was too ill to be bodily brought thither to bathe, the guardian saint was in all such eases sufficiently propitiated if a shirt or sark, or, as mentioned, even a scrap belonging to the ailing one, was brought and dipped therein and then left hanging upon some twig overhanging the water, a cure would be effected.
So Susie stood by the well side, gazing about to be quite sure that he was not alone, and at length feeling satisfied upon this point she cast upon the surface of the well a shred of white linen, watching it with eager eyes, for well she knew the doggerel distich, which said —
“Toss mirk or shirt, on t’ chapel well
If it sinks it’s t sign o’ death
If it floats, it plain does tell,
Ya’ve ta’en new grace to hold yer breath.“
Seeing that it floated, she felt emboldened to take from her breast a pectern shell and a small parcel containing a wafer cake about the size of a florin. Again casting her eyes cautiously round, and being satisfied that none were near, she repeated in a low fervent voice the old time, well charm, which had been repeated long ages before her time.
THE WELL CHARM2. Blakeborough notes there is no good evidence that the charm was known prior to 1750.].
“By that well stand I with a clean shell,
I fasted me this day sin I by times my charmer left,
To thee, good Saint, who caused, pure as angels’ tears,
This water clear to ever be within thy basin.
To thee my grief and wish I tell and this Good Friday fasting.
Nowther flesh, fish, nor fowl, hath held me up this day;
Thrice I do fill my shell from this thy well,
Where in times past thou rested, and caused this spring
To flow, wherein to wash thy feet. So be it but thy pleasure
I pray of thee, most blessed Saint, to intercede,
So that our blessed Redeemer who art in Heaven,
May grant this my prayer; I cast upon thy well,
A holy cake; I beg thee to accept of it,
And so be well pleased
To urges my prayer.
And grant my wish.
Having repeated her charm, and prayed and wished for Alf’s recovery, Susie turned about to retrace her steps. Not twenty steps did she take when, much to her amazement, she perceived an old dame seated upon little hillock, with crossed hands clasping a thick, short stick, and her chin resting upon her hands. There she sat, right in Susie’s path, an out-of-date odd-looking figure. Where had she sprung from? How was it that she, Susie, with all her careful observation, had missed seeing the old body? And what business could she have which brought her to such an out-oft:he-way place? All these thoughts passed through the maiden’s mind, as she walked the few steps which brought her opposite to the old dame.
“Methinks I see one with a sair heart, that would pass me by; say, sweet maid, is it not so?”
“Who are you?” faltered poor Susie, alarmed equally with her sudden appearance, and the correct guess she had made.
“Who am I? Did you ever hear of Jennet o’ the Dales, eh !”
“Of a truth, I have, and that, too, when I was a wee child, but I then understood that Jennet had bean dead for ages, therefore I wis that ye cannot be—”
“Ye would say Jennet o’ the Dales, nevertheless, I am. I come and go when and whither I will. But be that matter at rest. To the well ye have breathed a charm, upon the water of the well ye have cast a shred of Alf’s undergarment, and to your joy it hath swum, and home you would have return trusting all would be well; but, hark ye, Maggie hath promised to kneed a bolus3A ball <https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/bolus> [accessed 4 October 2022] composed of seven evil things.
Sha’ll dim’ t’ chetch wall,
Tweea thiings ti gether,
Deea yarrow, an’ brown rotting moss,
Wi’ t’ left hand will she gather baith,
Whahl frev her lips there drops a coss (curse)
Pull yan, scrape yan, foot an’ heead,
Baith despoiling t’ ligging deead.
Fra some pond side shall tak a frog,
An evert an’ a toad.
• • • • • •
Yah reeat o’ Devil’s gut, she’ll mak it three,
But call it yan
Wi’ sow’s blood then sha’ll mak a ball,
Weel warked ti ruin thee.
Ti four oross roads she’ll make her way.
At midneet tak her stan’
Eight good will sha call ti come,
Bud at t’ninth, cry, Alf’s mah mon,
An’ if his sperrit pass her by,
Sha’ ho’ds him, he’s bown ti die.
Well knew Susie the fearful threat contained in the words which she who claimed to be Jennet o’ the Dales had just uttered. Well, she knew the things mentioned, and the place and time they had been gathered, when made into a charm ball under the direct supervision of Au’d Nan, the Ayton witch, would have and hold a power which no ordinary living mortal could withstand, and few could compound a nostrum powerful enough to overcome the evil influence of the old witch. Susie had just heard the old dame declare what Maggie, consumed with jealous passion, had determined to do. She was told that she had already set about her evil task, and she was assured that if she succeeded, and at her ninth call, she was enabled to raise the wraith of Alf. Hawkewell when standing at the road, she would for ever after hold an influence over him to do with him as she willed.
“Oh !” cried Susie, wringing her hands in despair as she felt the full force of the evil now gathering about herself and the youth she so dearly loved, “if you really be Jennet o’ the Dale, of whom I have heard old folk say, you were always ready to the weak, and those beset by the wicked powers of witchcraft. I beg you to succour me in my distress for truly it very great.”
“I am here for no other purpose, but what must be done to overcome the evil already worked, must be done by you. Dare you undertake a task fraught with dangers and terrors which few would dare to face? Dare you at midnight venture alone into the depths of Wild Cat Wood? Dare you make your way to where the waters teem with never-ceasing music, and there stand until the fairies hold high revel? Dare. you do this and when the frolic is over call out, Jennet o’ the Dales wants the sigil?”
“For Alf’s sake I dare, for I love him, love him more than my own life,” said Susie, bravely.
“Then get you there on Monday’s eve, and if it be that your heart fail you not, and that ye obtain the sigil bring it thither on Tuesday towards sunset, and I will then give thee further counsel. Get you gone, and truth go with ye.”
It was truly no light task this to set a person to carry out in those days; in fact, few men without some very urgent or personal reason could have been found brave enough to undertake such a task. The wood in question was by everyone living those parts held to be of evil repute. A century ago its area was four times greater than of the present time. It was subject to periodic floodings, which left in many places huge spaces of treacherous moss and fern covered quagmires. The higher parts sheltered both mour pates, badgers, stoats, together with countless numbers of hagworms4Snakes <https://yorkshiredictionary.york.ac.uk/words/hagworm> [accessed 4 October 2022], whose poisonous bite it was well known had caused deaths of untold agony. Then, as its name implied, from end to end it was infested with a ferocious breed of wild cats, so savage, that those passing through at nightfall had been boldly attacked by some suspicious abby, jealous of evil intent upon her family. Add to all these animated terrors, that of evil spirits which wore said to roam the wood, and one wraith, in particular, that of a female, was said to have a wonderful power for evil, which she cast upon all those whose eyes were ao unfortunate as behold her lovely form. The one redeeming feature of this dreaded wood its band of fairies who held high court upon a mossy carpet hard by the force, which so late as twenty-five ago was known amongst the older folk Farryfet Glen, evidently a corruption of Fairy Feet, the force itself being named Farryfet force. To this lovely spot went Susie on the day mentioned. She had to start on her journey shortly after dinner, taking sufficient food for her tea and supper along with her, for the distance as the crow flies will be a good nine miles. She wished to accomplish eight of those miles before tea time, it being her intention to call upon a shepherd’s wife who lived within a mile of the wood, and rest there until near the hour of midnight, preform her task, sand if successful return thither until early daylight, and then make her way home.
It was a lovely early spring day as she climbed the steep hill side, which in height almost laid claim to being a mountain. On, on she went, leaving the hyacinths and anemones behind, but not so high yet to have left the cheery greeting of some smiling primrose; on, on, until at last the summit was reached, and there lay as an open book the wide stretch of moorland, so vast, that gazing northward the eye could not compass it. Turning her eyes eastward, the distant white sails of some craft, like the wings of a coming bird of good omen, took their several ways upon the mighty ocean .Cheered by the lovely sight, the brave girl struck a moor path almost due east. Although she had set out at such an early hour, the bogs upon the moor had so often cause her to deviate from a straight course, that it was long turned tea time ere she reached the humble thatch of her old friend.
“Well,” said the dame when she had been made acquainted with Susie’s story and determination to beg aid of the fairies, “you must not enter the wood in that dress. I have an old suit of my lad’s, it’ll fit ya. Non, neea daftness, come inti malt room, and Ah’ll set ya up, seea as ya’ll finn’d yersel’ less hampered an’ hindered as ya would be in petticoats. There, noo, ther isn’t a hagwo’m i’ all Wi’d Cat Wood ‘ll bite thruff them gamashes,” which were of stout, well-greased pliable leather, reaching quite to Susie’s knees. “An’ throw this camil (camail)5A neckguard, sometimes made of camel’s hair. The thickest part of the armour near the neck was called the camal or camail. (1852 A Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words- obsolete phrases, proverbs, and ancient customs, from the fourteenth century, by James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, Vol. 1. Page 228.) ower yer shoulders, an’ if owther a tom er a tabby yer back they’ll seean loup off again.”
This camil was a cape of some thick stuff, thickly covered with short, dried inch bits of bramble stems, securely stitched thereto, presenting an outward surface of innumerable sharp briar points.
“And here is a hood fettled just the same. Noo, then, ya’re as safe as a button, an’ if ya nobbut ho’d yer heart up, ya’il ‘deea cannily. Bud mind ya, ya maun’t flinch, ya maun’t halt, an’ ya mun nobbut to’n back for watter. Ah’ll set a cann’l i’ t’ winder, seea that when ya come oot o’ t’ wood, after yo’ve gotten what ya’re gahin for, ya’ll see leet shining, an’ make straight for ‘t.”
Surely, Aud’ Nanny, the witch, have exercised some occult power whereby all Susie’s movement’s were visible to her, and her enchantments proved to be of so subtle a nature that her evil machinations in various guises followed and tortured the maiden. Even before she entered the wood the sound of a heavy tread following behind startled her, but nothing beyond her own shadow could she perceive, although the ground about her was clear of any vegetation, beyond that of bramble bushes, and where she stood was lighted, brilliantly lighted by the queen of the night. Still she hurried onward the same heavy footfall followed behind. Then passed in front of her, once, twice, twenty times the sweep of silent black shadows, whilst now and again, not near at hand, but in the far distant hoots of many owls. Muttering a prayer for strength. the brave girl pressed on, until the entrance to the wood had unconsciously been passed. Amongst the trees and directly in front of her there stood the figure of a lovely damset. As Susie’s eyes beheld the apparition, she whispered to her self. “I must not flinch, I must not halt, and only turn back for water,” and as did so a sob rose unbidden to her lips, for sorely frightened she as she the figure motioning with her hand for Susie to join her. This happened the moment she turned a little out of the way to avoid meeting the spectre. Paving no heed to the beckoning hand, with faltering steps and a palpitating heart she pushed on. The buds of the fresh young foliage were fortunately only just bursting, so that in deepest part of the wood the bright of the gloriously shining moon, lighted her pathway, else surely she must have failed more than once. She felt her foot slip upon something, followed by an angry hiss, and a sharp attack upon her leg. She then knew that had not the wisdom of her old friend protected her limbs in the leather gaiters, the very first of those attacks must have ended her night’s quest in failure. Keeping by the beckside when possible, she pressed on, stumbling over rotting stumps hidden beneath the dead shroud, of last year’s undergrowth, she slipped and fell upon huge boulders here and there obstructing her path, but on, on, terrified, and trembling in every limb, she pushed on until the murmur of the force, which in time of flood becomes an angry roar, breaks upon her ear, braces herself to a new effort with new life. ‘Tis music which she hears, and ere long, in spite of the dark and shapeless shadows which have reared themselves to stop her, or flitted about her, she stands within the charmed circle of Farry-fet Glen, nor is she there a moment too soon, for the fairies, bright in primrose and violet or anemone suits, are in the very height of their nightly revels.
Speedily was the Queen of Farry-fet Glen informed of Susie’s appearance.
The maiden’s tale of woe was listened to, the request for the sigil, carefully considered, and duly granted, and Susie dismissed, a fairy with a tiny lamp being sent to guide her out of the wood, the moon having disappeared behind an angry mass of clouds.
On delivering the precious talisman on the evening of that same day to Jennet o’ the Dales, that worthy body bade Susie return home, and devote her spare time to nursing her injured lover. When Alf heard all that Susie had done to save him from the power of an evil woman, he drew her to his breast, and whispered, “My brave girl, where did you get your courage from?”
Then Susie shyly whispered, “It was not courage, Alf, it was love.”
The Author’s Notes
The element’s of the foregoing story were given to me twenty years ago by Mr Earle, at that time known as the old Schoolmastor of Barnby Moor. He had gathered the various items from an old dame, once a neighbour of his, then dead many years. The well charm and the witch charm Mr Earle committed to paper at the old lady’s dictation. They are evidently not complete, and have suffered considerably in having been handed down orally, for in such cases the old style of wording, and idiomatic phrasing is always unconsciously altered to the style of speech as used by the person reciting.
The discovery of Wild Cat Wood was not an easy matter. At last on mentioning Farry-fet Force to an old lady, I was at once informed that her husband could direct me which ‘road’ to go to get there, “but,” said she, “nobody ever cells it by that name now, it always goes by the name of Wiley Wood, she, however, knew of Farry-fet Glen, and although she had never gone thither at night time to beg from the fairies, she had heard her grandmother tell of one Susie Burnett, of Newton-under-Roseberry, who did once brave the world at midnight to beg the fairies to take a spell off her sweetheart which had been kessen an him by an Au’d Nanny, a desperte ill-working witch of Canny Yatten.” Now, this story tallied exactly with the one which Mr Earle had already given me. My old friend knew that there was a well charm, indeed, she had heard it, but could not call to her mind a single line. One bit of information worth chronicling she did give me, i.e., that she, together with other maidens one Easter Monday about the year 1840, “did tak a ramblation ez far ez Farry-fet plot, ower anenst what is now knawn (1883) ez Wiley Scar Force, takking wix us each a fairy cob (a small cake) which wa left on t’ plot ti tice t’ fairies ti leeak wi favour on us like, an’ ti’ win luck i’ wer sweethearting, when we lagg’d wer’ cobs on t’ wi each sed a charm which wa’d been tell’d by Au’d Sally Cornforth ‘ed larn’t t’ neet afore, and Ah caan’t call ti mind a wo’d on’t noo.”
I never met with anyone who could give me the least clue; indeed, I believe there is not the least scrap of legend remembered concerning the ghost of the female, said to posses the power of casting an evil influence upon all those who unfortunately let their eyes rest upon her. It is somewhat singular that several spectres possessing a like power were at one time very widely feared. That of Sarkless Kitty, whose story came down to us fairly intact, is a tale of and exceedingly bold and beautiful girl, of whom little good could be said whilst alive and less obtained from beholding her wraith when dead.
The Chapel or Holy Well must not be confounded with the one connected with the legend of Oswy’s death. That is nearly at the top of Rosebery, the former at the foot, or nearly so.
Jennet o’ the Dales was, I believe, a character at one time commonly invoked in all times of troubles. She is now forgotten, but amongst the old folk of twenty years ago, there were a few, who still, when speaking of the long, long ago, let her name fall from their lips, but even with them, Jennet and her doings were, but as a fading dream. They knew little of her. One old dame said she minded that old folk used to say when she was a lass that it was a lucky bairn who had Jennet o’ the Dales for its fairy godmother. Let not her name sink into oblivion.
- 1Jennet o’ t’ Dales. | Northern Weekly Gazette | Saturday 09 November 1901 | British Newspaper Archive’. 2022. Britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk <https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0003075/19011109/158/0021> [accessed 27 September 2022]
- 2. Blakeborough notes there is no good evidence that the charm was known prior to 1750.]
- 3A ball <https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/bolus> [accessed 4 October 2022]
- 4Snakes <https://yorkshiredictionary.york.ac.uk/words/hagworm> [accessed 4 October 2022]
- 5A neckguard, sometimes made of camel’s hair. The thickest part of the armour near the neck was called the camal or camail. (1852 A Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words- obsolete phrases, proverbs, and ancient customs, from the fourteenth century, by James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps, Vol. 1. Page 228.)
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