HENDERSON’S “Folk Lore”

One evening, between the years 1790 and 1800, a traveller, dressed in woman’s clothes, arrived at the Old Spital Inn, the place where the mail coach changed horses, in High Spital, on Bowes Moor.  The traveller begged to stay all night, but had to go away so early in the morning that if a mouthful of food were set ready for breakfast there was no need the family should be disturbed by her departure.  The people of the house, however, arranged that a servant maid should sit up till the stranger was out of the premises, and then went to bed themselves.  The girl lay down for a nap on the longsettle by the fire, but before she shut her eyes she took a good look at the traveller, who was sitting on the opposite side of the hearth, and espied a pair of man’s trousers peeping out from under the gown.  All inclination for sleep was now gone; however, with great self-command, she feigned it, closed her eyes, and even began to snore.  On this the traveller got up, pulled out of his pocket a dead man’s hand, fitted a candle to it, lighted the candle, and passed hand and candle several times before the servant girl’s face, saying as he did so:  “Let those who are asleep be asleep, and let those who are awake be awake.”  This done, he placed the light on the table, opened the outer door, went down two or three of the steps which led from the house to the road, and began to whistle for his companions.  The girl (who had hitherto had presence of mind enough to remain perfectly quiet) now jumped up, rushed behind the ruffian, and pushed him down the steps.  She then shut the door, locked it, and ran upstairs to try and wake the family, but without success:  calling, shouting, and shaking were alike in vain.  The poor girl was in despair, for she heard the traveller and his comrades outside the house.  So she ran down again, seized a bowl of blue (i.e. skimmed milk), and threw it over the hand and candle; after which she went upstairs again, and awoke the sleepers without any difficulty.  The landlord’s son went to the window, and asked the men outside what they wanted.  They answered that if the dead man’s hand were but given them, they would go away quietly, and do no harm to anyone.  This he refused, and fired among them, and the shot must have taken effect, for in the morning stains of blood were traced to a considerable distance.

These circumstances were related to my informant, Mr Charles Wastell, in the spring of 1861, by an old woman named Bella Parkin, who resided close to High Spital, and was actually the daughter of the courageous servant-girl.