Allusions 1901-2000 (texts)
By Henrik Thiil Nielsen, 2013-08-01. Revised by Henrik Thiil Nielsen, 2021-01-07.
The following 28 allusions are found for the period 1901-2000:
À propos of the bloodhounds, a good story is told of how they were hunting some deerstealers, and how they came to a check at some cottages by three cross roads — possibly the Robin Hood at the top of Marchington Cliff. When their attendants came up to them they found the hounds sneezing and whining, with their heads up, nor could they be induced to try for the scent. At last it was discovered that the road had been freely sprinkled with black pepper, which effectually foiled the line, so that the deerstealers escaped.
For aught the writer knows to the contrary, there are very few parks anywhere in England like those two in Staffordshire — Bagot's and Chartley. For where else do you find the park without the house? No doubt there were plenty of others at one time, though in many cases only the name remains without the pales. But Chartley is exactly as it was when the Conqueror came — or many a century before his time, except so far as it is enclosed by its fence, which is said to have been put up in the reign of Henry III., when the white cattle were driven in from the forest.
Its castle, which is now in ruins, was built in 1220, [vol. I, p. 136:] by Richard Blunderville [sic], Earl of Chester, on his return from the Holy Land, and from him descended to William Ferrars, Earl of Derby, whose son Eobert forfeited the estate by his rebellion. He was, however, afterwards allowed to retain it. Subsequently it came by marriage to the family of Devereux, and was in their possession when Mary, Queen of Scots, was taken there from Tutbury Castle, in December, 1585, and remained there till she was removed to Fotheringhay, in September, 1586. Before her arrival Lord Essex wrote to Mr. Bagot of Blithfield, asking him to have "all the bedding, hangings, and such like stuffs, removed to your own house for a wile ; and, if she come to Chartley, it may be carried to Lichfield, or els (she being gone to Dudley or els wher) it may be carried back." From this letter it does not seem as if Lord Essex quite approved of having his house turned into a sort of State prison. While there, the queen embroidered a bed with her own hands, which is still at Chartley. Queen Elizabeth came there, on her way to Stafford, in 1575. Li 1781 the curious old manor house was burnt down, while, about fifty years ago, the new one caught fire. Abberley, who is now one of Lord Bagot's keepers, and who lives at Abberley's house, on the outskirts of Bagot's Wood on the Uttoxeter turnpike road, remembers the fire, and was struck with the number of old guns, pikes, bayonets, and the like, which came out of it on that occasion.
"It is traditionally said," Mr. Redfern observes, "that Robin Hood found asylum at Chartley Castle, and its founder, Randall of Chester, is thus named in connection with the famed Robin, by the author of 'Piers Plowman.'
I can rhyme of Robin Hood, and Randall of Chester.'"
Does the coupling together of these two names favour the idea of a Robert de Ferrars being no other than a Robin Hood?
Loxley is also interesting from its connection with Robin Hood, who is said not only to have been born there, but to have been married there as well. He is thought by some to have been a Robert de Ferrers. To quote the exact words of Mr. Redfern, from whose history and antiquities of Uttoxeter this account is taken, "It is supposed that he may have had the name of Hood from being hooded, and that of Huntingdon from being engaged in hunting, and, although Norman by blood, it is thought not impossible that he might take up the popular cause. There is in existence in the family of Kynersley, an ancient horn having the proud name of Robin Hood's horn, and which was formerly in the possession of the Ferrers of Chartley, and then of the branch of the same family at Loxley, and so passed to the family of Kynersley by the marriage of the heiress of Ferrers with John de Kynardsley. It has the initials R. H., and three horse-shoes, two and one, in a shield, that being the way in which the arms were borne by the first Thomas de Ferrers of Loxley, and probably by a Robert, who preceded him apparently towards the close of the twelfth century; and as they were on the coloured glass (in the house) of which I have spoken, the traditionary connection with Robin Hood is interesting. The horn is mounted with silver ferrules, and has a silver chain attached to it for suspension. . . ."
With respect to the marriage of Robin Hood at Loxley, an old chronicle states that after his return there from a visit to his uncle Gamewell, in Warwickshire, after certain inquiries concerning his men,
The queen of the shepherds was she,"
with whom he fell in love, when
"Sir Roger, the parson of Dubridge, was sent for in haste;
He brought his Mass book and bid them take hands,
And joined them in marriage full fast."
[vol. II, p. 187:] "Dubridge" is the old spelling of Doveridge. Dove is the old British word " Dwfr," which means water.
The path to Caddington passes through the top of the arable field to Dame Ellen’s Wood, past Little John’s Wood into Caddington Lane and Caddington. As soon as Dame Ellen’s Wood is passed there is a field path on the left with a hedge to the right. This also leads to Caddington, past Castle-croft Wood and then over a stile or through a hedge gap to the right.
"Tring, Wing and Ivingo
The (these) Hampden did forgo
For striking of a blow
And glad he could 'scape so,"
is in the return made by John Yale, rector of Great Hampden to Willis's circular of interrogations, 1712. Yale says: "There is an antient Tradition of King Edward 3rd and his son Edward, the black prince's being entertained at Hampden. But the Prince and Hampden exercising themselves in feats of Chivalry, they differed and grew so hot that Hampden struck the Prince on the face, which made the King and prince go away in great wrath upon which came this rhyme."
The story is fiction made to fit an old rhyme, the lines are probably from a royalist ballad and indicate that Hampden must be dislodged, and Tring, Wing and Ivinghoe held by the royalists. There are many modern variants of the rhyme. Sir Walter Scott borrowed the last of the three place-names for his novel Ivanhoe, and printed the stanza in his preface, somewhat incorrectly, as he wrote from local tradition.
At the corner of Hanging Bridge, near to the church gate, was, for many years, the shop where the Swindells family carried on business as printers, and from whose press were issued chapbooks in an almost endless variety. The business was commenced by George Swindells, a native of Disley, who died in 1796; and was continued by his widow Alice, in conjunction with their eldest son, John. The family retained possession of the shop until 1846. A younger son, Henry, conducted business as a printer in Deansgate for many years. I have before me a collection of a dozen of the chapbooks issued from Hanging Bridge, which, although comparing unfavourably with the children's books of to-day, are exceedingly interesting. The subjects dealt with are Jane Shore, Robinson Crusoe, with a woodcut representing the adventurer fully equipped; Robin Hood, with nine illustrations; the Happy Cottagers, one of the illustrations representing a spinning wheel standing as high as the cottage; Blue Beard, [p. 56:] illustrated, and a number garland. With their poor paper, old type, and crude illustrations, they take us back to the days when books were scarce and dear. To prevent any possibility of confusion, I may say that I am in no way related to the family of printers.
The greatest of local bowmen was James Rawson, concerning whom few particulars have survived. Perhaps the best account of him was the one written by R. Wood in the Manchester Guardian in 1874. He says: "I fear I have little information to give concerning James Rawson, except what I have gathered from old people. Although some of them remembered him well, they were not very particular bout telling the same story of his wonderful feats twice over without [p. 20:] some variation. James Rawson was a handloom weaver and lived most of his life in an old house, now in ruins, opposite the Griffin Inn. Weavers were then well off and could afford to indulge in many amusements from which they have been debarred since the invention of patent looms and the introduction of steam power. Archery was then a favourite amusement, not only with the rich but with tradesmen and working people also. James appears to have begun shooting early, and even in boyhood to have acquired extraordinary proficiency, so that, as his grave stone has it, 'from 16 to 60 he never refused a challenge nor ever lost a match.' When he became too old to weave, the gentlemen employed him to attend on shooting days and keep their bows in order, and when they had a friendly match with other villages they would dress him up as a gentleman to take part with them so as to get the benefit of his score; and it is said that in one of these matches held at Prestwich, the affair was so well contested that James and his opponent, the two last playes, were on equal terms, and the two last arrows had to decide the match. When the Prestwich man sent his arrow the game appeared settled, as it had struck within an inch of the centre of the target, and the shaft lay a little obliquely, so as to cross the centre. But James sent his arrow with such truth and force that it split the other one and struck the very place required. This was considered the greatest feat in archery since the time of Robin Hood. When he died the gentlemen archers attended his funeral, and paid all expenses, including that of a gravestone. Rawson was buried in St. Mark's Churchyard, where [p. 21:] his gravestone with the following epitaph may be seen:
who died October 1st, 1795, aged 80 years.
His dexterity as an archer was unrivalled; from the age of
16 to 60 he never refused a challenge, nor lost a match.
Grim death, grown jealous of his art,
His matchless fame to stop,
Relentless aiemd th' unerring dart
And split the vital prop.
This favourite son Apollo eyed,
His virtues to requite,
Conveyed his spirit to reside
In realms of endless light."
In the first place it may be noted that the complete list comprises only sixteen names. In many cases the addresses appear as Cheetham Hill only. In all such it is probable that they lived on the main road. Including these there are twenty-two entries relating to the residents on the highway, exclusive of cottages. Included in the list is E.W. Pilkington, whose bow and arrow shop was a well-known landmark for many years. We also find mention made of the licensed houses which then comprise the Robin Hood, the Bird in Hand, the Griffin, and the Eagle and Child. To three of these bowling greens were attached, that of the [p. 63:] last-named being perhaps the best known.
Robin Hood's Seat. — "At the top of Trench Wood, on entering the Glen, there is a large stone with a bowl-shaped cavity, called from time immemorial 'Robin Hood's Seat.' This designation is, of course, purely mythical, many such curious stones and other remarkable objects in our part of the country being associated in some fanciful way or other with this famous mediaeval outlaw."2
The cavity in the stone is in my opinion of natural origin and has no traces of human handiwork. The hollow is, I think, a "pot-hole," worn by the action of pebbles in the bed of a river where a circular motion is imparted to the water. Such holes exist in considerable numbers in the bed of the Wharfe near the Strid, and are common in most swiftly-flowing rivers where the bed is rocky. This piece of stone must, if I am right, have been at the bottom of a river in some very remote geological epoch. The whole slope of the hill about this spot is strewn with masses of rock which have rolled down from a higher level; this particular mass got broken in the process, leaving about three-quarters [p. 114:] of the basin intact, which is two feet in diameter and one foot 9 inches deep.
Robin Hood's House. — This very interesting group of stones lies just above the mill at Baildon Green, some way up the slope of the hill. I think it is unquestionably a cromlech, of the type of "Kit's Coty House" in Kent, "Wayland Smith's Cave" in Berkshire, and others. One side of Robin Hood's House, however, is formed of a huge mass of stone, lying apparently just as it fell from the cliff above; the other stones, some of considerable size, have evidently been placed in position by man. The two views of this curious pre-historic relic give a better idea of it than any description; I am not aware if any excavation has ever been made here.
The event of this visit was Baildon Feast, a great public rejoicing on the anniversary of the summer solstice. It had been observed beyond the memory of man, beyond historical notice, beyond even the traditions of the locality. There was no particular reason for its observance that I could ever learn; it was just Baildon Feast, and that was all anybody knew about it.
I was awakened very early on the first day of the feast by the bands "playing the sun up," and before we had finished breakfast the procession was forming. Now Baildon Green is flat and grassy as a meadow, and when I was six years old it had a pond in the center, while from the northwest there rose high hills. Only a narrow winding path led to the top of these hills, and about half way up, there was a cave which tradition averred had been one of Robin Hood's retreats — a very probable circumstance, as this whole country-side was doubtless pretty well covered with oak forests.
A numerous deputation from the village of Baildon, situated on the top of the hill, joined the procession which started from Baildon Green at an early hour. The sun was shining brightly, and I had on a clean white frock, pretty white sandals, a new blue sash, and a gypsy hat trimmed with blue ribbons. When the music approached it put a spirit into my feet and my heart [p. 17:] kept time to the exciting melody. I had never walked to music before, and it was an enchanting experience.
The procession appeared to my childish apprehension a very great one. I think now it may have consisted of five hundred people, perhaps less, but the great point of interest was two fine young heifers garlanded with flowers, and ornamented with streaming ribbons of every color. Up the winding path they went, the cattle lowing, the bands playing, the people singing and shouting up to the high places on which the village of Baildon stood. There at a particular spot, hallowed by tradition, the cattle garlanded for sacrifice were slain. I do not know whether any particular method or forms were used. I was not permitted to see the ceremony attending their death, and I confess I was much disappointed.
Coleford is the rendezvous to-day, and we can gain it as we please — afoot, by cycle, or by railway through Parkend. Our friend the Instructor joins us there by train, together with a member of the class; seven more await us just by Marian's Lodge, a mile due north of Coleford by the road that leads through Berry Hill. Eight well-set-up intelligent young working-men in all, ranging in age from twenty to five-and-twenty. The school, when founded, admitted pupils of a younger age, but the results were not found satisfactory, and the limit has since been raised. [p. 135:]
Attached to Marian's Lodge, as to most other of the Forest lodges, is a nursery, and a short pause is made beside the fence while we inspect its infent occupants. Larches six inches high are growing somewhat brown and sickly from the long May drought. The class, being one for beginners, is invited to note the difference between the "green" and "blue" varieties of Douglas fir, and is enlightened as to the superior merits of the former tree. [... p. 136: ...]
From Marian's Lodge we have been following a course north-west, and now are skirting Bracelands, the lonely wood-embosomed residence of a Forest official.
Equally clear is Professor Wood's supreme piety toward the aged Goethe. He works from the principle that even the most phantasmagoric episode in Faust contains some adequate, worthy meaning, which he purposes to chase to its capture, though the hunt should lead around Robin Hood's barn; he will let go of no hint until he has harried it to quiescence.
Carston, Waite and Co. found they had struck on a good thing, so, down the valleys of the brooks from Selby and Nuttall, new mines were sunk, until soon there were six pits working. From Nuttall, high up on the sandstone among the woods, the railway ran, past the ruined priory of the Carthusians and past Robin Hood’s Well, down to Spinney Park, then on to Minton, a large mine among corn-fields; from Minton across the farm-lands of the valley side to Bunker’s Hill, branching off there, and running north to Beggarlee [p. 10:] and Selby, that looks over at Crich and the hills of Derbyshire; six mines like black studs on the countryside, linked by a loop of fine chain, the railway.
[Book title:] Robin Hood's Barn: the Confessions of a Garden Adventurer
[...] folk nowadays think it still worth their while to climb the steep way from Whitworth, past Houses o'th' Hill, to see Robin Hood's well in Robin Bank. The well indeed is changed, for a trough [p. 151:] of zinc now holds the water so famous for its goodness that in days not long gone by it was though worth the trouble of carrying to Rochdale. What might not one expect from a well blessed by holy Chadde himself, and "crossed" again by famous Robin Hood, even if a trough of zinc has replaced the more picturesque receptacle of old.
From the far edge, above Robin Hood's Well, vou look down on Pendle Bridge; the clough below is Ravensholme; lower down still you see Hill Foot, Higson, and beyond, the roofs of Rimington. Coming west the gaze rests on Worston, Warsaw Hill, Downham and the Ribble below Sawley.
Locally much romantic rock scenery may be found at Robin Hood's Bed on Blackstone Edge, Langfield and Erringden Moors, and most notable of all that fine and time-honoured outcrop on Stansfield heights known as Bride Stones.
The'r up-de-date, an' aw, lass,
They keep weel, oot o' t' rut;
Ther'c [sic] yan call'd "Muker Fashion,"
An' another "Swalehead Nut."
Ther's "Samson" an' ther's "Buff'lo Bill,"
Beeath fit fer onny flock;
Ther's "Moss Rose," "Snowdrop," "Shamrock,"—
He's t' pick o' t' Pry Hoose Stock.
Ther's "Swell," and "Swagger," and "Surprise,"—
The best o' Stooansdil blood;
Ther's "Little John" an' aw, lass,
But neea bowld "Robin Hood."
As Edwin knocked 'em doon, lass,
Yan felt a lile bit stunned
When Steeane Hoose Shearin, "Hero,"
Was seld for Eighty Pund.
T' best o' yowes er queens, lass,
The'r crooned, an' weel they pay;
An' t' teeup' ats' bred l' Swo'dil-Head
Is t'king o' teeups te-day.
At the far end of the summit [of Pendle Hill], going north, is a wall; in the wall is a good stone step-up stile; over the stile a path leads down to Robin Hood's well. From this particular point the view is enchanting, embracing the wide Ribble Valley, the Bowland Fells, the towering Yorkshire mountains, Longridge, Kemple End on the [p. 15:] far left, and Simon's Seat on the extreme right. No scene in the whole wide world so appeals to the heart of the Pendle Forester as do the views seen from the top of Pendle.
There is a choice of three ways down from the top of Pendle: the cart road, easy and safe; the side path starting near to the stile in the wall, steep and slippery, but most used; or straight down the face of the hill.
A few yards from the river [Calder] is a thorn hedge which divides the Shuttleworth and Starkie estates. A bridge now spans the river at this point. Across the way down stream leads to Padiham, up bank to Higham, and against the stream to Brierfield. The riparian rights are claimed by the Starkies of Huntroyd. [p. 35:]
In the bank under "Eleven Trees" is a spring of icy cold water. It used to be called Robin Hood's well. This water was at one time considered a specific for certain ailments of the eyes.
The view down stream takes in Hunter's Oak Farm, Hag Wood, the Stepping Stones, Gawthorpe Hall and Woods and Cornfield Pit, which makes up a charming pastoral composition.
The green knoll on the right used to be decked with a cluster of eleven trees, and was long known by the abbreviated term of "'Leven Trees."
This spring of icy-cold water is one of the many Robin Hood's wells.
Here is the new bridge. Across is the road leading up to Ighten Hill and Padiham Road, and at this historic place ramblers from the Trafalgar Road, Gannow, and Padiham Road districts may join in the ramble. The path along the river side leads direct to Padiham.
Another tramp told the story of Gilderoy, the Scottish robber. Gilderoy was the man who was condemned to be hanged, escaped, captured the judge who had sentenced him, and (splendid fellow!) hanged him. The tramps liked the story, of course, but the interesting thing was to see that they had got it all wrong. Their version was that Gilderoy escaped to America, whereas in reality he was recaptured and put to death. The story had been amended, no doubt deliberately; just as children amend the stories of Samson and Robin Hood, giving them happy endings which are quite imaginary.
Her var Forhindringsløb og Gallopløb på kulørte Træheste, Verdens største omrejsende zoologiske Have, Skydebaner, Rutschebaner, Gynger og Vægte, hvor man blev vejet gratis, hvis Ejeren ikke kunde gætte, hvor tung man var. Gyngerne bar navne som "Aquitania", "Majestic", "Queen Mary" og andre af de store Oceanflyvere, mens Luftbøsserne hed "Lange Tom", "Tykke Bertha" og "Robin Hood". Her var Astrologer og Spaakvinder, som med Garanti stillede Horoskoper af forskellig Kvalitet helt op til 5 Sh. pr. Stk. Her var Karuseller, trukket med Haandkraft, mens man red paa "Pegasus", "Windsor Lad", "Golden Miller" eller andre af de berømte Væddeløbsheste, hvis Navne hver Englænder kender bedre end Navnene paa de store Profeter.
There were steeplechases, horse-races on colourful wooden horses, the world's largest travelling zoo, shooting galleries, switchbacks, swings, and weighing scales where weighing was free if the owner could not guess your weight. The swings carried names like "Aquitania", "Queen Mary" and other such great ocean flyers, while the pellet guns were named "Long Tom", "Fat Bertha" and "Robin Hood". There were astrologers and fortune-tellers who drew up horoscopes, warranted to be of varying quality and set you back up to 5s. apiece. There were hand-drawn carousels where one rode the "Pegasus", "Windsor Lad", "Golden Miller" or one of the other famous race-horses, whose names every Englishman knows better than the names of the great prophets.
Yorkshire is unique in Britain for underground cascades and waterfalls. In many dales and moors the sheets of mountain limestone are fissured and cracked by past earth-movements, and the rain-water, percolating through the heather, bog, and grass, has dissolved shafts and steps into the depths. At many fissures, even on high moors and ridges, the sound of falling water can be heard, and of course there are jets and fountains in the potholes which require special equipment for their descent. If you lay your ear to the ground at a certain point in Ribblesdale you will hear "how the water comes down at Lodore" in fairyland, although not so much as a rivulet is to be seen outside Robin Hood's Mill. Hellen Pot has an underground waterfall of about 40 feet, and many others could be recorded. Hull Pot, an open fissure near Horton-in-Ribblesdale, also has a fall of 50 feet, part of which is visible. Alum Pot, on the south side of the Ribble, has a water-course entering 50 feet below the surface by way of Long Churn, a side gallery which itself has one or two small water-falls. At the lip there is a rush of water into the black main chamber.
Five uneventful days passed after the last I have described. For Charles, no opportunities to continue his exploration of the Undercliff presented themselves. On one day there was a long excursion to Sidmouth; the mornings of the others were taken up by visits or other more agreeable diversions, such as archery, then a minor rage among the younger ladies of England—the dark green de rigueur was so becoming, and so delightful the tamed gentlemen walking to fetch the arrows from the butts (where the myopic Ernestina's seldom landed, I am afraid) and returning with pretty jokes about Cupid and hearts and Maid Marian.
I have spent these two previous days at the very place of your most concern, and write while all is fresh in mind. This place is to my best computation two and a half miles above the ford upon the Bideford road and the valley thereto is known as the Cleeve, after its cleft and woody sides, that make it more ravine than vale, like many in this country. The cavern lies with a sward and drinking-pool for beasts before, in the upper part of a side-valley to the aforesaid, the branch path to which is reached in one and three quarter miles from the ford upon the high road. All is desart in these parts, and the valley most seldom used unless by shepherds to gain the moor above. One such, named James Lock, and his boy, of the parish of Daccombe, was at the cavern when we came; as he told us was his summer wont, for he has passed many such there. This Mopsus appeared a plain fellow, no more [p. 279:] lettered than his sheep, but honest in his manner
The place has a mischievous history, being known to him and his like as Dolling's or Dollin's Cave, after one of that name in his great-grandfather's time who led a notorious gang of rogues that boldly resided here and lived a merry life in the manner of Robin Hood (or so said this Lock), with long impunity, by reason of the remoteness of the place and their cunning in thieving more abroad than in the neighbourhood itself; were never brought to justice that he knows, and in the end removed away. And in proof thereof he showed me inside the entrance to his grotto and rude-carved upon the native rock the initials I.D.H.H., that is, John Dolling His House. The rogue would have been a free-holder, it seems.
- Randall, J. L. A History of the Meynell Hounds and Country 1780 to 1901 (London, 1901), vol. I, p. 46.
- Randall, J. L. A History of the Meynell Hounds and Country 1780 to 1901 (London, 1901), vol. I, pp. 135-36.
- Randall, J. L. A History of the Meynell Hounds and Country 1780 to 1901 (London, 1901), vol. II, pp. 186-87.
- Smith, Worthington G. Dunstable: Its History and Surroundings. Facsimile edition ([Bedford], 1980), p. 133.
- Smith, Worthington G. Dunstable: Its History and Surroundings. Facsimile edition ([Bedford], 1980), p. 161.
- Swindells, T. Manchester Streets and Manchester Men. First Series (Manchester, 1906), pp. 55-56.
- Swindells, T. Manchester Streets and Manchester Men. Second Series (Manchester, 1907), p. 102.
- Swindells, T. Manchester Streets and Manchester Men. Fifth Series (Manchester, 1908), pp. 19-21.
- Swindells, T. Manchester Streets and Manchester Men. Fifth Series (Manchester, 1908), pp. 62-63.
- Baildon, W. Paley; Baildon, Francis J. Baildon and the Baildons: a History of a Yorkshire Manor and Family ([s.l.]; Bradford and London, [1912-26]), vol. I, pp. 113-14.
- Baildon, W. Paley; Baildon, Francis J. Baildon and the Baildons: a History of a Yorkshire Manor and Family ([s.l.]; Bradford and London, [1912-26]), vol. I, p. 14.
- Barr, Amelia E. All the Days of My Life: An Autobiography – The Red Leaves of a Human Heart (New York and London, 1913), pp. 16-17.
- Cooke, Arthur O. The Forest of Dean (New York, 1913), pp. 134-36.
- Hatfield, James Taft, review. '[Review of:] Faust-Studien. Ein Beitrag zum Verständnis Goethes in seiner Dichtung. Von Henry Wood. Berlin, Georg Reimer, 1912. vi + 294 pp.', Modern Language Notes, vol. XXVIII (1913), pp. 186-88; see p. 186.
- Lawrence, D.H.; Baron, Helen, ed.; Baron, Carl, ed.; Morrison, Blake, introd. Sons and Lovers (Penguin Classics) (London etc., 2006), pp. 9-10.
- Bailey, Margaret Emerson. Robin Hood's Barn: the Confessions of a Garden Adventurer (New York, ©1922).
- Oakley, G. R. In Olden Days: Legends of Rochdale and its Neighbourhood (United Kingdom, 2016), pp. 150-51.
- Bates, Joe. Rambles Around Pendle (Nelson, ), p. 15.
- Newell, A.B.M. A Hillside View of Industrial History: A Study of Industrial Evolution in the Pennine Highlands, with Some Local Records (Todmorden, ), p. 19.
- Fairfax-Blakeborough, J. 'Horse, Cattle and Sheep Nomenclature', Notes & Queries, vol. CXLIX (1925), p. 330.
- Bates, Joe. Rambles Twixt Pendle and Holme (Nelson, ), pp. 14-15.
- Bates, Joe. Rambles Twixt Pendle and Holme (Nelson, ), pp. 34-35.
- Bates, Joe. Rambles Twixt Pendle and Holme (Nelson, ), p. 67.
- Orwell, George. Down and out in Paris and London (London etc., 2013), p. 191.
- Andersen, Knud. Højvande ved Dover (København, 1936), p. 288.
- Palmer, William T. Odd Corners in the Yorkshire Dales: Rambles, Scrambles, Climbs and Sport (London, ), p. 21.
- Fowles, John. The French Lieutenant's Woman (London, 1992), p. 99.
- Fowles, John. A Maggot (London, 1996), pp. 279-80.