CHAPTER IV. 



BUCKINGHAM IN LEGEND. 



When a land forgets its legends, 

 Sees but falsehoods in the past ; 

 When a nation views its sires 

 In the light of fools and liars, 

 'Tis a sign of its decline, 

 And its glories cannot last. 



To discredit the legend of our dales and to sneer at their lore 

 is to at once cast disbelief on local history, and, so far as we 

 are here concerned in the present issue, is, whilst admitting 

 that the stories told have their interest, to deny the main 

 fact in demonstration. The stories which are here given, 

 and which will from time to time be found in this history, 

 are something more than interesting, amusing and, perchance, 

 exciting old-world tales of our grand-sires told over the turf 

 fire on a winter's evening. They have, it is true, been 

 handed down — most of them orally — from generation to 

 generation, and in the process of transition they may have 

 become hackneyed, and peradventure exaggerated or lacking 

 in detail, as the case may be. Still, if we read between the 

 lines, a fairly accurate deduction may be arrived at regarding 

 the main fact and nucleus of the story. 



It may usually be taken for granted when a dalesman 

 commences a narrative with " Ah've heeard it tolled ower 

 an' up ageean," or " Mali awd grand fey ther off ens used to 

 tell us bairns," that some story pregnant with local folklore 

 is forthcoming. This lore has a literature peculiar to itself, 

 and many stories require some little analysis ere one arrives, 

 so to speak, at the kernel. To analyse, however, is to rob 

 them of much of their charm and interest and poetry, there- 

 fore, I will leave to the reader the use of the pruning knife, 

 but I do ask him to believe that innocent of much originality, 

 and of very vivid imaginations, these stories are not the 



