Legends Of Longdendale Part 12

"Then listen to me." And the hag whispered something in the ears of her young companion which appeared to satisfy her, for in a little while the two left the gibbet, carrying the dead child in a bundle between them.

The next day, one who pa.s.sed the gibbet noticed that the corpse hanging thereon had only one hand.

A short time afterwards it was reported that the infant child of the steward had been spirited away in the night. It had been set to sleep in its cradle, and when the nurse awoke the cradle was empty, and the window open. There was a great outcry, and men were sent in search; the searchers presently returned bearing the dead body of a male child, the face of which had been half eaten away. It was impossible to recognise the features, but the steward wept over the body, telling himself that his son had been devoured by some savage beast of the forest, that had made its way into the mansion, and stolen the child while the household slept. He suspected that some evil witch-wife had been at work, and he trembled with fear, for he was sore afraid of the powers of darkness, as all wicked men are.

Meanwhile the dead man's widow dwelt with the old witch at a haunted hut in the forest, and it was reported that her son throve apace.

Years pa.s.sed by, and the steward had no more children. The shock of his son's death had proved too much for his lady's strength, and she became an invalid. He grew more brutal and unmerciful in his conduct day by day, and the peasantry came to regard him as a fiend in human shape.

As for the old witch and the poor distracted widow and her child, they lived in the haunted hut, shunned by all--for it was reported that the widow herself had also become a witch, and was in league with the powers of darkness. The lad grew up into a fine youth, and had he lived an honest life, he would have been accounted one of the handsomest and likeliest lads in all Longdendale. But the training of his mother and the old witch had led him to spend his days in all manner of evil, he robbed and plundered, and finally took to the woods as an outlaw. Inspired by his mother, he was particularly severe in his depredations upon the property of the steward, and being reckless and daring to an unusual degree, he had so far succeeded in avoiding capture. At length there came a time when an adventure more impudent and daring than all previous affairs, caused the steward to put a price upon his head, and so keen was the hunt after him that the bold rascal found it necessary to keep in hiding.

The steward chafed with anger, for all his efforts to lay the robber by the heels were fruitless, and he had small hopes of ascertaining the whereabouts of the man he wanted. One day, however, an old hag presented herself at his gate, and asked for an interview.

"Ah," said he, recognising the old witch, "what doest thou here. Where is that imp of Satan whom thou hast helped to rear?"

"That, good Master Steward, is even what I am come to tell thee,"

answered the hag.

"How now," said the steward; "what evil scheme is afloat now?'

"Revenge," said the witch, snapping her toothless gums, and shaking her crutch. "Revenge upon the woman--my companion, and upon her evil-minded son. They have played me false, and now I mean to return the compliment. The woman is away on a journey, and to-night her son crept in from the forest for shelter and a meal. I gave him meat and drink, but I drugged the drink, and now he lies in slumber at my hut in the forest. Send thy guards, steward, and take him ere he wakes."

The steward rubbed his hands with glee, and laughed joyously.

"Thou devil's sp.a.w.n," said he, "thou shalt be rewarded if we take him."

"I seek no reward but to see him gibbetted," said the witch.

"Thy wish shall be gratified," said the steward; and without more ado he called his men, and marched off to the witch's hut to effect the arrest.

In those days little time was lost between the arrest of a man and his death upon the gallows; and on the following day the witch and her companion--the young widow of the earlier part of this story--accompanied a procession to the place of execution at Gallow's Clough. The steward was there with his men-at-arms--and as he beheld the widow, he turned to her and began to rail.

"Ah, thou h.e.l.l-cat. Dost thou love the gallows so? Thy husband died on this gibbet, and now thy son comes to the same end. Like father, like son. 'Tis in the breed. Why dost thou not weep and shriek for mercy as thou did'st when thy man was swung?"

Then the woman answered with a laugh:

"Because I am mad, thou fool, and cannot weep. My tears were dried up with weeping over my husband, and now I can weep no more. I must laugh, man, laugh when the gibbet creaks beneath the weight of a dead man. The days of weeping are past, the time of laughter and rejoicing is come."

"Thou speakest truth," quoth the steward, turning away. "Thou art mad indeed."

"Yet not so mad as thou, oh, thou wise man," said the woman,--but the steward did not hear her.

The executioners did their work, and the young man was hanged by the neck until he was dead. Then the steward and his men turned to depart.

But the widow stood before him, and laughed in his face.

"Wise man--madman, rather," said she. "Whom, thinkest thou, is that dead man on the gallows?"

"Thy son, witch, thy son," said the steward, stepping back before the wild appearance of the woman.

"My son, fool! Nay, 'tis thy son, steward. The child who disappeared from his nurse's room was brought to me, was reared by me, was trained for the gallows, and hangs there dead. My son died the same day that his father was hanged--murdered by thee--and his mangled and disfigured body was found by thy servants and buried as thy son. Dost understand me now?"

The steward reeled, but recovered himself with an effort.

"'Tis false," said he, in a choking voice.

"'Tis true," screamed the woman; "was not there a birthmark upon thy child's shoulder? Ah, thou rememberest it, I see. Look at the dead man on the gallows, and thou wilt find the birthmark there."

With a wild cry the steward stripped the clothing from the dangling corpse, and there upon the lifeless shoulder, he found the mark which branded the criminal as his child. He had hanged his own son.

Before his men could lend a hand to stay him he had fallen senseless to the ground.

The men turned and sprang towards the woman, who was now convulsed with horrible laughter.

"Seize her," cried one,--and they all made to obey.

But quickly raising a phial to her lips, she drank the contents, and in an instant fell back a corpse.

The old witch shook her crutch at the armed men.

"The murder of an innocent man is avenged," she cried. "Is it not written that the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children? And lo--the murderer's son perishes upon the gibbet where the father's crime was done."

Then, laughing shrilly, she hobbled away over the hills, and, full of fear, the men-at-arms let her go unmolested.

XIV.

The King's Evil

Or THE WONDERFUL CURE OF THE MOTTRAM PARSON.

There was a certain John Hyde appointed Vicar of Mottram in the year 1575, who continued to hold the sacred office for over 50 years. He succeeded his father, Sir Nicholas Hyde (the Vicar of Mottram from 1547 to 1575) who was buried in the Chancel of Mottram Church on the 24th day of April, 1575. John Hyde married at Mottram on February 26th, 1575-6, Alice Reddich, of Mottram, by whom he had several children: and after her death on March 21st, 1593-4, he married for a second wife, Ann Hyde, on May 22nd, 1597. In the year 1599 the Parish Registers were transcribed from the old paper books into the parchment volumes now in use, and every page of the transcripts bears the signature of John Hyde. He was also rural dean of Macclesfield.

During a great portion of his life, Parson John Hyde had curates to a.s.sist in the discharge of his ministerial duties; this a.s.sistance was the more necessary on account of the wide extent of the ancient parish of Mottram, and also because there was a chapel at Woodhead dependent for its ministry upon the mother church at Mottram. The most prominent of these curates was his eldest son, Hamnet Hyde, who, as appears from the Mottram registers, was baptized at Mottram Church on May 14th, 1580, and afterwards settled in the town, marrying there on the 12th day of January, 1601, Joane Greaves, of Mottram, by whom he had three sons, John, Nicholas, and Thomas.

Parson Hyde was of an ancient family of gentry, notable in both Lancashire and Cheshire; being connected with the Hydes of Denton, and the Hydes of Hyde. His great influence, however, was not alone owing to this circ.u.mstance, but was rather due to his own attainments and his proved superiority in the matter of learning and wisdom. Hamnet Hyde, his son, inherited his father's good qualities; he was a man of good parts, was distinguished for his learning, and was withal pious and devout. He made a good curate in every way. He was well liked by the parishioners of Mottram, and was, indeed, well spoken of throughout the whole of the Longdendale country. It should also be added in view of the details of this tradition, that he was a fairly robust man, steady, sober, in no way given to gluttony, and there seemed every prospect of his living to a good old age.

There came a time, however, when good Master Hamnet Hyde was greatly distressed to find a grievous disease slowly yet surely creeping over him. Do what he would, it was impossible to shake the sickness off.

Bit by bit the disease grew worse, and the local quacks and surgeons were entirely powerless to stay its course. One by one the local doctors tried, and each one was sorrowfully obliged to confess to failure in the end. "Nothing could be done," they said; and a complete cure seemed almost hopeless.

Now, not only was Master Hamnet Hyde distressed with this intelligence, and not only did his good wife Dame Joane, weep until her good looks were impaired, but the news also gave great pain throughout the parish. The people took the matter to heart as though the parson was one of their own relations. So greatly was he beloved by the common people that some of them even went so far as to employ charms and other harmless means, whereby they hoped to remove the sickness from which the curate was suffering.

The curate's condition formed the subject of gossip when the people gathered together about the cross opposite the churchgates after divine service.