Читать книгу History of the Fylde of Lancashire - John Porter - Страница 7

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“See! in what crowds the uncouth forms advance:

Each would outstrip the other, each prevent

Our careful search, and offer to your gaze,

Unask’d, his motley features. Wait awhile,

My curious friends! and let us first arrange

In proper order your promiscuous throng.”

The large district of western Lancashire, denominated from time immemorial the Fylde, embraces one third at least of the Hundred of Amounderness, and a line drawn from Ashton, on the Ribble, to Churchtown, on the Wyre, forms the nearest approach to an eastern boundary attainable, for although the section cut off by its means includes more land and villages than properly appertain to the Fylde, a more westerly division would exclude others which form part of it. The whole of the parishes of Bispham, Lytham, Poulton, and St. Michael’s; and the parish of Kirkham, exclusive of Goosnargh-with-Newsham and Whittingham, are comprised in the Fylde country.

The word Amounderness was formerly considered to signify the “Promontory of Agmund,” or “Edmund,” and this origin is alluded to in a treatise written some years since by Mr. Thomas Baines on the “Valley of the Mersey,” in which the following remarks occur:—“In the year 911 the Northumbrians themselves began the war, for they despised the peace which King Edward and his ‘Witan’ offered them, and overran the land of Mercia. After collecting great booty they were overtaken on their march home by the forces of the West Saxons and the Mercians, who put them to flight and slew many thousands of them. Two Danish Kings and five Earls were slain in this battle. Amongst the Earls slain was Agmund, the governor, from whom the Hundred of Agmunderness (Amounderness) was probably named.” In order that the reader may properly comprehend why Mr. Baines should surmise that Amounderness received its title from the Danish Earl, Agmund, it may be stated that the extensive province of Northumbria, then colonised by the Northmen or Danes, embraced, amongst other territory, the district afterwards called Lancashire, and, consequently, the Hundred of Amounderness would be in a great measure under Danish governance. When, however, we call to mind that the Danes did not invade England until A.D. 787, and learn that this Hundred was entered in the Ripon grant in A.D. 705, as Hacmunderness, it becomes obvious that the name cannot have been conferred upon it by that nation, and some other source must be looked to for its origin. In Gibsons’ Etymological Geography there is “Anderness” (for Ackmunderness) described as a “promontory sheltered by oaks, (ac, oak; and mund, protection).” As many large trunks of trees have been discovered beneath the layers of peat in the extensive local mosses, whilst others have been laid bare along the shore by the action of the tides, it can be readily believed that at one time the greater share of the district was clothed with forests. Leyland, who was antiquary to Henry VIII., and surveyed the Hundred during the reign of that monarch, 1509-47, says:—“Al Aundernesse for the most parte in time paste hathe been full of woods, and many of the moores replenished with hy fyrre trees; but now such part of Aundernesse as is towarde the se is sore destitute of woodde.” With such irrefutable evidences of the early woodland condition of Amounderness, there need be no hesitation in accepting the signification which Messrs. Gibson have given to the name—the Ness or Promontory protected by oaks. The word Fylde is regarded simply as a corruption of “Field.” Camden in his “Britannia” of 1590, writes:—

“Tota est campestris, unde Fild pro Field appellatur.”[1]

(The whole is champaign, whence it is called Fild for Field.)

In a subsequent edition of the same work Fild is spelt File, and the latter orthography was used in Fileplumpton, in the Duchy records, afterwards called Fylde Plumpton, and now Wood Plumpton. The Fylde section of this Hundred is a level well-watered country, highly cultivated and richly productive, especially of grain, from which circumstance it was formerly designated the corn-field of Amounderness.

Anterior to the third invasion of the Romans in A.D. 43, the inhabitants of the Fylde and other portions of Lancashire lying between the range of mountains which separates this county from Yorkshire, and the coast about the Bay of Morecambe, were called the Setantii or Segantii, “the dwellers in the country of water,” but at that date the whole tract populated by these people was included in the more extensive province of the Brigantes, comprehending what are now known as the six counties of York, Durham, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Cumberland, and Lancaster. The Fylde at that epoch would be composed chiefly of morasses and forests, interspersed with limited areas and narrow paths of more stable land, and there can be little doubt that the dwellers on such an uninviting spot must have been very few, but that it was traversed and, as far as practicable, inhabited by the ancient Setantii is evident from the several relics of them which have been discovered amongst the peat in modern days. Two or three canoes, consisting of light wooden frameworks, covered with hides, were found by a man named Jolly, about half a century ago, when cutting the “Main Dyke” of Marton Mere;[2] Celtic hammers, axes, and spears have also been taken out of the mosses in the district, all of which were doubtless originally the property of the aboriginal Britons. The bay of Morecambe and the river Wyre acquired their distinctive appellations from the Setantii, the one being derived from the Celtic gwyr, pure or fresh, and the other from mawr, great, and cam, winding or bent.

The hardihood of the native Britons of these parts is attested by Dion Cassius, who informs us that they lived on prey, hunting, and the fruits of trees, and were accustomed to brave hunger, cold, and all kinds of toil, for they would “continue several days up to their chins in water, and bear hunger many days.” In the woods their habitations were wicker shelters, formed of the branches of trees interwoven together, and, in the open grounds, clay or mud huts. They were indebted to the skins of animals slain in the chase for such scanty covering as they cared to wear, and according to Cæsar and other writers, dyed their bodies with woad, which produced a blue colour, and had long flowing hair, being cleanly shaved except the head and upper lip. That the power of endurance possessed by the Setantii, and the neighbouring Brigantes is not to be understood literally as expressed by Cassius may, we venture to think, be taken for granted. It can scarcely be credited that the human frame could ever be reduced or exalted to such an amphibious condition as to be indifferent whether it passed a number of days on dry land or under water; it seems more probable that in his description Cassius referred to the hunting and other expeditions of the inhabitants into the forests and morasses of the Fylde and similarly wooded and marshy tracts, where there is no question the followers of the chase would be more or less in a state of immersion during the whole time they were so engaged.

The religion of the Setantii was Druidical, and their deities resembled those of other heathen nations, such as the Romans and Greeks of that era, but differed in their names. Cæsar tells us that this order of priesthood was presided over by a superior, who was known as the chief Druid, and had almost unlimited authority over all the rest. The Druids were settled at various points of the island, where they erected their temples, but in addition to these principle stations, many of their order were scattered amongst the native tribes of Britain, over which they appear to have exercised the functions and power of judges, arranging both public and private disputes, and deciding all criminal cases. It was part of the creed professed by the Setantii, to vow, when they were engaged in warfare, that they would, through the agency of the Druids, immolate human victims as an atonement for slaughtered enemies, believing that unless man’s life were given for man’s life, the divine anger of the immortal Gods could not be appeased. There were other sacrifices of the same kind instituted at regularly appointed seasons and on special occasions. The Setantii also believed in an immortal soul, but seem to have had no idea of a higher state, as their priests inculcated the doctrine that after death the soul was transported to another body, “imagining that by this the men were more effectually roused to valour, the fear of death being taken away.”[3] Ornaments called “Druids’ eggs,” and worn only by these priests, have been found in the Fylde.

How Cæsar, in B.C. 54 and 55, invaded Britain a first and a second time, achieving at best an empty conquest, and how, after his death, the emperor Claudius sent over an army with a determination to exterminate the Druids, and after thirty pitched battles, subdued province after province, is beyond the limits of this work to state, but as a connecting link of the history of the country with that of our own county, and that portion of it especially under examination, it may be stated that Britain was finally conquered by the Romans under Julius Agricola, and that the best investigation of the subject leads to the opinion that the district which we call Lancashire, was brought into subjection to the Roman conqueror in A.D. 79. A vigorous resistance was for long offered to the army of invaders in the territory of the Setantii by the natives under the Brigantine chief Venutius, but the well drilled legions of the Romans, when commanded by Agricola, proved too formidable to be checked or broken by the wild, undisciplined valour of the Setantii. Tacitus, the son-in-law of the general, informs us that early in the summer of A.D. 79, Agricola personally inspected his soldiers, and marked out many of the stations, one of which, either made at that time or later by the same people, was situated at Kirkham, on the line of the Roman road running from the mouth of Wyre, which will be described hereafter. He explored the estuaries and woods along the western coast of Lancashire, and harassed the enemy by sudden and frequent incursions. When the Brigantes and Setantii had been thoroughly overawed and disheartened by the invincible Romans, Agricola stayed his operations in order to shew them the blessings of peace, and in that way many towns which had bravely held out were induced to surrender and give hostages. These places he surrounded with guards and fortifications. The following winter was passed in endeavouring, by various incentives to pleasure, to subdue the warlike nature of the Britons, thereby diminishing the danger of an outbreak, especially amongst such tribes as the Setantii, whose intrepid spirits had been so difficult to quell, and who were not likely to submit quietly to the yoke of the conqueror, unless some means were adopted to allure them by the charms of civilised luxury from their free field and forest mode of existence. Temples, courts of justice, and comfortable habitations were first erected; the sons of the petty chiefs were next instructed in the liberal arts, and Agricola professed to prefer the genius of the Britons to the attainments of the Gauls. The Roman dress became the fashion, and the toga was frequently worn. The “porch, luxurious baths, and elegant banquets” were regularly instituted, and by degrees the crafty design of the Roman general was accomplished, and the vanquished Britons had ceased to be the hardy warriors of old.

About one century after the subjugation of Britain by Agricola no less than seven important Roman stations, or garrisoned places, had risen up in the county of Lancaster, and were situated at Manchester, Colne, Warrington, Lancaster, Walton-le-dale, Ribchester, and Overborough. The minor ones, such as Kirkham, supposing their sites to have been first built upon in a season of warfare, subsequently became small settlements only, and were, in all probability, unused as military depots. The rivers which flowed in the neighbourhood of the several encampments, terminated in three estuaries, denominated by Ptolemy,[4] the ancient geographer, in his book, completed in A.D. 130, the Seteia Æstuarium, the Moricambe Æstuarium, and the Belisama Æstuarium. The first of these estuaries is generally regarded as the mouth of the Dee, the second is identified with Morecambe Bay, and the third with the Ribble by some historians and the Mersey by others. The same authority mentions also a Portus Setantiorum, which has been located on the banks of the Ribble, Lune, and Mersey, by different antiquarians, but in the opinion of the most recent writers the ancient harbour of the Setantii was situated at the mouth of the river Wyre. Further reference to the Setantian port will be made in a later page of the present chapter.

At the shore margin of the warren at Fleetwood there was visible, about forty years ago, the abrupt and broken termination of a Roman road, which could be traced across the sward, along the Naze below Burn Hall, and onward in the direction of Poulton. From that town it ran in a southerly line towards Staining, crossing Marton Mere, on its way, in the cutting of which its materials were very apparent, and lying on the low mossy lands to the depth of two yards in gravel. From Staining it proceeded to Weeton, and in a hollow near to the moss of that township, consisted of an immense stony embankment several yards in height; in the moss itself the deep beds of gravel were distinctly observable, and from there the road continued its course up the rising ground to Plumpton, the traces as usual being less obvious on the higher land. From Plumpton it travelled towards the elevated site of a windmill between Weeton moss and Kirkham, at which point it turned suddenly, and joined the public road, running in a continuous straight line towards the latter town. The greater part of the long street of Kirkham is either upon or in the immediate vicinity of the old Roman road. From Kirkham the road directed its course towards Lund church, somewhere in the neighbourhood of which it was joined by another path formed by the same people and commencing at the Neb of the Naze near Freckleton.[5] Leaving Lund it ran through Lea on to Fulwood moor, where it took the name of Watling street, and proceeded on to Ribchester. This road has always been known in the Fylde as the Danes’ Pad, from a tradition that those pirates made use of it at a later period in their incursions into our district, visiting and ransacking Kirkham, Poulton, and other towns or hamlets of the unfortunate Saxons. Numerous relics, chiefly of the Roman soldiery, have been dug or ploughed up at different times out of the soil, bordering on the road, or found amongst the pebbles of which it was composed, and amongst them may be mentioned spears, both British and Roman, horse shoes in abundance, several stone hammers, a battle axe, a broken sword, and ancient Roman coins, all of which were picked up along its line between Wyre mouth and Weeton. Several half-baked urns marked with dots, and pieces of rudely fashioned pottery were discovered in an extensive barrow or cairn near Weeton-lane Heads, which was accidentally opened, and is now pointed out as the abode of the local hairy ghost or boggart. In the neighbourhood of Kirkham there have been found many broken specimens of Roman pottery, stones prepared for building purposes, eight or ten urns, some containing ashes and beads, stone handmills for corn grinding, ancient coins, “Druids’ eggs,” axes, and horse shoes; in the fields near Dowbridge, where several of the above urns were discovered, there was found a flattened ivory needle, about five or six inches long with a large eyelet. A cuirass was also picked up on the banks of the Wyre; but the most interesting relic of antiquity is the boss or umbo of a shield, taken out of a ditch near Kirkham, which will be fully described in the chapter devoted to that township. The Romans were accustomed to make three kinds of roads, the first of which, called the Viæ Militares, were constructed during active warfare, when they were engaged in pushing their way into the territory of the enemy, and easy unobstructed communication between their various encampments became a matter of the utmost importance. The second, or public roads, were formed to facilitate commerce in time of peace; and the third were narrower paths, called private roads. The county of Lancaster was intersected by no less than four important Roman routes, two of which ran from north to south, and two traversed the land from west to east. The course of one road, and perhaps the best constructed of the whole four, we have just followed out; of the remainder, the first, commencing at Carlisle, passed near Garstang and Preston, crossed the Irwell at Old Trafford, and maintaining its southerly direction, ultimately arrived at Kinderton, in Cheshire. The second extended from Overborough to Slack, in Yorkshire, passing on its way through Ribchester, the Ribble, Radcliffe, Prestwich, and Newton Heath; whilst the third had its origin at a ford on the Mersey, in close proximity to Warrington, and from that spot could be traced through Barton, Eccles, Manchester, Moston, Chadderton, Royton, and Littleborough, thence over Rumbles Moor to Ilkley, where was located the temple of the goddess Verbeia. It is conjectured that these roads, which consisted for the most part of pavement and deep beds of gravel, were begun, or at least marked out, by Agricola during the time he was occupied in the subjugation of Lancashire, and if this very probable hypothesis be correct the course taken by that general in his exploration of the woods of the Fylde, and the estuaries of Morecambe and the Ribble is clearly indicated by the direction of the ancient path communicating with the mouth of Wyre and the Naze.

At the opening of the third century the Roman governor of Britain found it necessary to obtain the personal co-operation of Severus, in order to put an effectual check to the repeated outbreaks of the natives; in A.D. 207, that emperor having landed and established his head-quarters at York, a considerable force marched northwards under his leadership to punish the revolting tribes, and it is surmised that the curious road, running across the mosses of Rawcliffe, Stalmine, and Pilling, was constructed by the legionaries whilst on this tour. The pathway alluded to, and commonly known as Kate’s Pad, was deeply situated in the mosses, and had apparently been formed by fastening riven oak planks on to sleepers of the same material, secured and held stationary by means of pins or rivets driven into the marl a little above which they rested. Its width was about twenty inches, but in some places rather more.[6] Herodian, in describing the expedition of Severus to quell the insurrection of the Briton, says:—“He more especially endeavoured to render the marshy places stable by means of causeways, that his soldiers, treading with safety, might pass them, and having firm footing fight to advantage. In these the natives are accustomed to swim and traverse about, being immersed as high as their waists: for going naked as to the greater part of their bodies they contemn the mud. His army having passed beyond the rivers and fortresses which defended the Roman territory, there were frequent attacks and skirmishes, and retreats on the side of the barbarians. To these indeed flight was an easy matter, and they lay hidden in the thickets and marshes through their local knowledge; all which things being adverse to the Romans served to protract the war.” There can be no doubt that, when the path, which consisted in some parts of one huge tree and in others of two or more, was formed, timber must have been very plentiful in the vicinity, and at the present day numbers of tree trunks of large size are to be found in the mosses, further corroborating the conclusions arrived at by Leyland, whose words have already been quoted, and Holinshed, who wrote:—“The whole countrie of Lancaster has beene forests heretofore.” An iron fibula, a pewter wine-strainer, a wooden drinking bowl, hooped with two brass bands and having two handles, a brass stirrup, and other relics have been taken out of the moss fields; and in the same neighbourhood an anvil, several pieces of thin sheet-brass, and a pair of shears were discovered in a ditch.

About the year 416 the Romans finally removed themselves from our island, taking with them many of the brave youths of Britain, and leaving the country in the hands of a people whose inactive habits, acquired under their dominion, had rendered them ignorant of the art and unfit for the hardships of warfare. According to Ethelwerd’s Chronicle, in the year 418 those few of the Roman race who were left in Britain, not being able to put up with the manifold insults of the natives, buried their treasure in pits, hoping that at some future day, when all animosity had subsided, they would be able to recover it and live peaceably, but such a fortunate consummation never arrived, and weary at length of waiting, they assembled on the coasts and “spreading their canvass to the wind, sought an exile on the shores of Gaul.” The Saxon Chronicle says:—“This year, A.D. 418, the Romans collected all the treasures that were in Britain, and some they hid in the earth so that no one since has been able to find them; and some they carried with them into Gaul.” It is far from unlikely that the silver denarii, discovered in 1840 by some brickmakers near Rossall, and amounting to four hundred coins of Trajan, Hadrian, Titus, Vespasian, Domitian, Antonius, Severus, Sabina, etc., were deposited in that spot for security by one of those much harassed Romans, previous to his departure from our coast.

A prize so easily to be obtained as Britain in its practically unprotected state appeared, was not long in attracting the covetousness of the neighbouring Picts and Scots, who came down in thousands from the north, forced their way beyond the Roman Wall erected by Hadrian, occupied the fortresses and towns, and spread ruin and devastation in their track. The northern counties were the chief sufferers from these ruthless marauders. Cumberland, Yorkshire, and Lancashire, were ravaged and plundered to such an extent that had it not been for the seasonable assistance of the Saxons, the whole country they embrace would have been utterly devastated and almost depopulated. Gildas, the earliest British historian[7], born about 500, described our land before the incursions of the Picts and Scots as abounding in pleasant hills, spreading pastures, cultivated fields, silvery streams, and snow-white sands, and spoke of the roofs of the buildings in the twenty-eight cities of the kingdom as “raised aloft with threatening hugeness.” We may readily conceive how this picture of peace and prosperity was marred and ruined, as far as the three counties above-named were concerned, by the destroying hand of the northern nation. The British towns were still surrounded by the fortified walls and embattled towers, built by the Romans, but the unfortunate inhabitants, so long unaccustomed to

“The close-wedged battle and the din of war,”

and deprived of their armed soldiers and valiant youth, were panic stricken by the fierce onslaughts of the Scottish tribes, and fled before their advancing arms. Some idea of the critical and truly pitiable condition to which they were reduced may be gleaned from the tenor of an appeal for help sent by them to their old rulers, which the author last quoted has preserved as follows:—

The Lamentation of the Britons unto Agitius, thrice Consul.

“The barbarians drive us to the sea, the sea drives us back to the barbarians. Thus of two kinds of death, one or other must be our choice, either to be swallowed up by the waves or butchered by the sword.”

The Romans were fully occupied with enemies of their own, the Goths, and consequently were unprepared to offer any assistance to the Britons, whose position was shortly afterwards rendered additionally wretched by famine and its attendant evils. At that period both the state of Lancashire itself and of its inhabitants must have been exceedingly deplorable—the country ravaged and still exposed to the depredations and barbarities of the enemy, had now become a prey to a fearful dearth. Many of the descendants of the old Setantii, unable any further to support the double contest, yielded themselves up to the Picts and Scots in the hope of obtaining food to appease the fierce cravings of hunger, whilst others, more hardy, but outnumbered and weakened by long fasts, sought refuge in the woods and such other shelters as the neighbourhood afforded. Disappointed in the Romans, the Britons applied for aid to the Saxons, or Anglo-Saxons, a mixed and piratical tribe, dwelling on the banks of the German Ocean, and composed of Jutes, Angles, and pure Saxons. The men of this race are described as determined, fearless, and of great size, with blue eyes, ruddy complexions, and yellow streaming hair. They were well practised in warfare, and armed with battle-axes, swords, spears, and maces. Their chief god was Odin, or Woden, and their heaven Valhalla. About one thousand of these warriors, under the command of Hengist and Horsa, embarked in three vessels, built of hides, and called Cyulæ or Ceols. They landed on the coast of Kent, about the year 449, and by the direction of Vortigern, king of the Island, marched northwards until they arrived near York, where an encounter of great moment took place, terminating in the utter defeat of the Picts and Scots. Inspirited by so early and signal a success the Saxons followed up their advantage with alacrity, drove the baleful marauders out of the counties of Lancaster and York, and finally compelled them to retreat across the frontier into their own territory. After having rescued the kingdom from these invaders the Saxons settled at York and Manchester, and not only evinced no sign of returning to their own country, but even despatched messengers for fresh troops. This strange and suspicious conduct on the part of their allies excited considerable alarm and anxiety amongst the Britons, who practically expressed their disapproval by refusing to make any provision for the reinforcements. After a short interval a mandate was issued to the Saxon leader ordering him to withdraw his army from the soil of Britain. Incensed and stimulated by such decisive action Hengist determined at once to carry out the object he had cherished from the first—the subjugation of the people and the seizure of the island. Having procured a further supply of men under his son Octa, he established them in the country of the Brigantes, and almost immediately invited the native nobles to a friendly conference with his chiefs on Salisbury plain. The Britons, who were far from suspecting his treacherous design, attended the assembly unarmed, and in that defenceless state fell an easy prey to their Saxon hosts, who in the midst of feasting and revelry, brutally massacred the whole of their guests. Successful in his cowardly and murderous stratagem, Hengist took possession of the southern counties, whilst his son Octa maintained his sway over the Brigantine province of Northumbria, in which the Fylde was included, as intimated at the beginning of the chapter.

The ancient warlike spirit of the Setantii, which had lain almost dormant for centuries, was once more thoroughly aroused in the natives of Lancashire, and a determined and valiant opposition offered by them to Octa and his army. Overborough capitulated only when its inhabitants were worn out by fatigue and famine, whilst Warrington and Manchester sustained severe and protracted sieges before they fell into the hands of the enemy. Nennius, another early historian, who was born towards the end of the sixth century, informs us that the famous King Arthur and his sixty Knights of the Round Table worsted the Saxons in twelve successive battles, four of which were fought on the banks of the Douglas, near Wigan. In those conflicts our county was well and effectively represented in the person of Paulinus, the commander of the right wing of the army, who after many brave and sanguinary struggles overthrew the hitherto unconquered Octa, and for a time, at least, delivered the Fylde and other parts of Northumbria from the rule of the Saxons. This gallant soldier was the offspring of a union between a Roman warrior and a British maiden, who had established themselves in Manchester. The chieftain Ella, however, compelled the Britons to submission, and assumed the government over part of Northumbria. Clusters of Saxon huts, soon growing into villages, now sprang up on the soil of the Fylde, which under the wood-levelling and marsh-draining Romans had lost much of its swampy and forest characters and been transformed into a more habitable locality. We need have little hesitation in conjecturing that the valour displayed by the inhabitants of our county was greatly increased, and often rendered almost desperate, by the knowledge that if their land were subdued and occupied by the Saxons the key, if it may so be called, to their mountainous strongholds would be lost, and the line of communication between them impassably and irretrievably obstructed; for the venerable Bede[8] tells us that a portion of the Britons fled to the hills and fells of Furness, and we are aware that a much larger share sought refuge amongst the mountains of Wales, lying to the south-west, and visible from the shores of the Fylde. Others escaped over to Armorica in France, and from them it acquired the name of Brittany. Additional evidence that Furness was peopled by the Britons, even for more than two centuries after the arrival of the Saxons, is to be found in the writings of Camden, who says:—“The Britons in Furness lived securely for a long time, relying upon those fortifications, wherewith nature had guarded them; for that the Britons lived here in the 228th year after the coming of the Saxons, is plain from hence; that at that time Egfrid, the king of the Northumbrians, gave to St. Cuthbert the land called Cartmell, and all the Britons in it; for so it is related in his life.”

The Saxons were great idolaters, and soon crowded the country with their temples and images. The deities they worshipped have furnished us with names for the different days of the week, thus Sunday is derived from Sunan the sun, Monday from Monan the moon, Tuesday from Tuisco a German god, Wednesday from Woden, Thursday from Thor or Thur, Friday from Friga, and Saturday from Seater.

When the nation was once more at peace, all the towns and castles which had been damaged during the wars were repaired, and others, which had been destroyed, rebuilt. The Britons were brought by degrees to look with less disfavour on their conquerors, and as time progressed adopted their heathenish faith and offered up prayer at the shrines of the same idols, drifting back into darkness and forgetting or ignoring those true doctrines which, it is said, had been declared and expounded to them at the very commencement of the Christian era. According to Clemens Romanus and Theodoret, the Apostle Paul was one of the earliest preachers of the Gospel in Britain, but whatever amount of truth there may be in this statement, it is certain that at the Council of Arles in A.D. 314, and ten years later at that of Nicene, three British bishops were present. All traces of their former religion quickly vanished from amongst the native population of Lancashire under the pagan influence of their rulers; and it was during that unhallowed age that Gregory, surnamed the Great, and afterwards pontiff, being attracted by the handsome appearance of some youths exposed for sale in the market-place at Rome, and finding, on inquiry, that they came from the kingdom of Deira, in Britain, determined to send over Augustine and Paulinus to Christianise the inhabitants. In 596 Augustine landed with forty missionaries on the coast of Kent, the king became a convert, and the new faith spread rapidly throughout the island. Thousands were baptised by Paulinus in the river Swale, then called the Northumbrian Jordan, and the waters of Ribble were also resorted to for the performance of similar ceremonies.

The advent of the Roman mission initiated a fresh epoch in the ecclesiastical history of the county, monasteries and religious houses sprang up in different parts, and at the consecration of the church and monastery of Ripon, lands bordering on the Ribble, in Hacmundernesse (Amounderness), in Gedene, and in Duninge were presented amongst other gifts to that foundation. Paulinus was created bishop of Northumbria in 627, and it is to his ministrations and pious example that the conversion of the inhabitants of the Fylde and vicinal territory is generally attributed. The Saxon Chronicle records, however, that in 565 Columba “came from Scotia (Ireland) to preach to the Picts.” Columba was born at Garten, a village in county Donegal, and according to Selden and other learned writers, the religion professed by him and the Culdees, as the priests of his order were called, was strictly Presbyterian. Bede writes:—“They preached only such works of charity and piety as they could learn from prophetical, evangelical, and apostolic writings.” Columba established a monastery at Iona. Dr. Giles states that “the ancient name of Iona was I or Hi, or Aoi, which was Latinised into Hyona, or Iona; the common name of it now is I-colum-kill, the Island of Colum of the Cells.” Bishop Turner affirms that “the lands in Amounderness, on the Ribble,” were first presented to a Culdee abbot, named Eata, on the erection of a monastery at Ripon, but that before the building was finished he was dismissed and St. Wilfred made abbot of Ripon, sometime before 661. If the foregoing assertion be correct there is certain evidence that the Culdee doctrines were also promulgated in Lancashire, and doubtless in our own district, at that early date. Bede seems to support such an assumption when he states that the Ripon lands were originally granted to those who professed the creed of the Picts to build a monastery upon, and did not pass to St. Wilfred, bishop of Northumbria, until afterwards, in 705, when he re-edified the monastery. Whatever discrepancies may exist as to the exact period and manner in which Christianity was introduced or revived in the bosoms of our forefathers, there is ample and reliable proof that the majority of them had embraced the true faith about the middle of the seventh century, when churches were probably erected in the hamlets of Kirkham and St. Michael’s-on-Wyre.

About the year 936 the Hundred of Amounderness was granted by Athelstan to the See of York:—“I, Athelstan, king of the Angles, etc., freely give to the Omnipotent God, and to the blessed Apostle Peter, at his church in the diocese of York, a certain section of land, not small in extent, in the place which the inhabitants call Amounderness,” etc. The Hundred of Amounderness when this grant was made must have been pretty thickly peopled, for Athelstan states that he “purchased it at no small price,” and land at that date was valued chiefly by the number of its residents. Here it will be convenient to observe that in some instances, as in that of Amounderness, the Hundreds acquired the additional titles of Wapentakes, and, in explanation of the origin of the term, we learn from “Thoresby Ducat Leodiens,” that when a person received the government of a Wapentake, he was met, at the appointed time and usual place, by the elder portion of the inhabitants, and, after dismounting from his horse, he held up his spear and took a pledge of fealty from all according to the usual custom. Whoever came touched his spear with theirs, and by such contact of arms they were confirmed in one common interest. So from wœpnu, a weapon, and tac, a touch, or taccare, to confirm, the Hundreds were called Wapentakes. Traces of the above antique ceremony are still to be met with in the peculiar form of expression used when the tenantry and others are summoned by the manorial lords of Amounderness to attend their court-barons and court-leets.

The Heptarchy, established about 550, and consisting of seven sovereign states, was finally abolished in 830, and Egbert became king over the whole island. The province of Northumbria, more especially the Fylde and tracts of adjoining territory, had at that date been the scene of irregular and intermittent warfare during the previous forty years. Lancashire had suffered cruelly from the visitations of the Northmen, or Danes, who spared neither age, sex, nor condition in their furious sallies. In the years 787, 794, and 800, these pirates invaded the soil, ravaged the country, butchered the inhabitants, and on the last occasion shot Edmund, the king of the West Saxons, to death with arrows, because he refused to renounce the Christian faith and embrace the errors of heathenism. Egbert was no sooner seated on the throne than the Danes re-appeared off the coasts, and there can be little doubt that some of their bands made their way down the western shore of the island, entered the Bay of Morecambe, and, guided by the old Roman road near the mouth of the Wyre, pushed onwards into and through the heart of the Fylde, plundering and laying waste villages, hamlets, and every trace of agriculture in their path. “The name of the Danes’ Pad,” says Mr. Thornber, “given to the Roman agger is and ever will be an everlasting memorial of their ravages and atrocities in this quarter.”[9] In addition it may be stated that many warlike relics of the Danes have been found along the road here indicated, and that the names of the Great and Little Knots in the channel of Wyre, opposite Fleetwood, were of pure Scandinavian derivation, and signified “round heaps,” probably, of stones. These mounds were, during the formation of the harbour entrance, either destroyed or disfigured beyond recognition. Several localities, also, along the sea boundary of the Fylde bear Danish denominations, which will be treated of hereafter. In 869 Lancashire was again visited by a dreadful famine, and many of the people in every part of the county fell victims either to the dearth itself or the fatal disorders following in its train. Those who were fortunate enough to escape the wholesale destruction of the scourge suffered so severely from the merciless massacres of the Danes that at the accession of Alfred the Great, in 871, our Hundred was but sparsely populated. During the reign of that illustrious monarch England was divided into counties, which again were subdivided into Hundreds. Each Hundred was composed of ten Tithings, and each Tithing of ten Freeholders and their families. When this division of the kingdom was effected the south-western portion of the old province of Northumbria was separated from the remainder, and received the name of Lonceshire, from the capital Loncaster, the castle on the Lone, or Lune. Alfred, as we are told by his biographer Asser, did much to improve the condition of his subjects both for peace and war; referring to their illiterate state, on his accession the king himself says:—“When I took the kingdom there were very few on the south side of the river Humber, the most improved portion of England, who could understand their daily prayers in English, or translate a letter from the Latin. I think they were not many beyond the Humber. There were so few that I cannot, indeed, recollect one single instance on the south of the Thames.”[10] After suffering a defeat at Wilton almost at the outset of his career, Alfred surprised and overthrew the Danish camp at Eddington; Guthrum, their leader, and the whole of his followers were taken prisoners, but afterwards liberated and permitted to colonise East Anglia, and subsequently Northumbria, an act of clemency which entailed most disastrous consequences upon the different sections of the latter province. The Fylde now became the legalised abode of numbers of the northern race, between whom and the Saxon settlers perpetual strife was carried on; in addition the restless and covetous spirit of the new colonists constantly prompted them to raids beyond the legitimate limits of their territory, rebellions amongst themselves, and conspiracies against the king; insurrection followed insurrection, and it was not until Athelstan had inflicted a decisive blow upon the Danish forces, and brought the seditious province of Northumbria under his own more immediate dominion, that a short lull of peace was obtained. In the reign of his successor, however, they broke out again, and having been once more reduced to order, agreed to take the name of Christians, abjure their false gods, and live quietly henceforth. These promises, made to appease the anger of Edmund, were only temporarily observed, and their turbulent natures were never tranquilised until Canute, the first Danish king, ascended the throne of England in 1017. The Norse line of monarchs comprised only three, and terminated in 1041. Reverting to Athelstan and the Danes we find that about ten years after the subjugation of the latter in 926, as recorded in the Saxon Chronicle, Anlaf, a noted Danish chieftain, made a vigorous attempt to regain Northumbria. The site of the glorious battle where this ambitious project was overthrown and the army of Anlaf routed and driven to seek refuge in flight from the shore, on which they had but a short time previously landed exulting in a prospect of conquest and plunder, is a matter of dispute, and nothing authentic can be discovered concerning it beyond the fact that the name of the town or district where the forces met was Brunandune or Brunanburgh, and was situated in the province of Northumbria. The former orthography is used in Ethelwerd’s Chronicle:—“A fierce battle was fought against the barbarians at Brunandune, whereof that fight is called great even to the present day; then the barbarian tribes were defeated and domineer no longer; they are driven beyond the ocean.” Burn, in Thornton township, is one of the several rival localities which claim to have witnessed the sanguinary conflict. In the Domesday Survey, Burn was written Brune, and it also comprises a rising ground or Dune, which seem to imply some connection with Brunandune. From an ancient song or poem, bearing the date 937, it is clear that the battle lasted from sunrise to sunset, and that at night-fall Anlaf and the remnant of his followers, being utterly discomfited, escaped from the coast in the manner before described. This circumstance also upholds the pretentions of Burn, as it is situated close to the banks of the Wyre, and at a very short distance both from the Irish Sea and Morecambe Bay, as well as being in the direct line of the road called Danes’ Pad, the track usually taken by the Northmen in former incursions into the Fylde and county. In addition it may be mentioned that tradition affirms that a large quantity of human bones were ploughed up in a field between Burn and Poulton about a century ago. Sharon Turner says:—“It is singular that the position of this famous battle is not yet ascertained. The Saxon song says it was at Brunanburgh; Ethelwerd, a contemporary, names the place Brunandune. These of course are the same place, but where is it?”[11] Having done our best to suggest or rather renew an answer presenting several points worthy of consideration to Mr. Turner’s query, we will, before bidding farewell to the subject, give our readers a translated extract from the old song to which allusion has been made:—

Athelstan king,

Of earls the Lord,

Of Heroes the bracelet giver,

And his brother eke,

Edmund Atheling,

Life-long glory,

In battle won,

With edges of swords,

Near Brunanburgh.

The field was dyed

With warriors blood,

Since the sun, up

At morning tide,

Mighty planet,

Gilded o’er grounds,

God’s candle bright,

The eternal Lord’s,

Till the noble creature

Sank to her rest.

...

West Saxons onwards

Throughout the day,

In numerous bands

Pursued the footsteps

Of the loathed nations.

They hewed the fugitives,

Behind, amain,

With swords mill-sharp.

Mercians refused not

The hard-hand play

To any heroes,

Who with Anlaf,

Over the ocean,

In the ship’s bosom,

This land sought.

...

There was made to flee

The Northmens’ chieftain,

By need constrained,

To the ships prow

With a little band.

The bark drove afloat.

The king departed.

On the fallow flood

His life he preserved.

The Northmen departed

In their nailed barks

On roaring ocean.

Athelstan, in order to encourage commerce and agriculture, enacted that any of the humbler classes, called Ceorls, who had crossed the sea thrice with their own merchandise, or who, individually, possessed five hides of land, a bell-house, a church, a kitchen, and a separate office in the king’s hall, should be raised to the privileged rank of Thane. Sometime in the interval between the death of this monarch, in 941, and the arrival of William the Conqueror, the Hundred of Amounderness had been relinquished by the See of York, probably owing to frequent wars and disturbances having so ruined the country and thinned the inhabitants that the grant had ceased to be profitable.

During the earlier part of the Saxon era the clergy claimed one tenth or tithe of the produce of the soil, and exemption for their monasteries and churches from all taxations. These demands were resisted for a considerable period, but at length were conceded by Ethelwulf “for the honour of God, and for his own everlasting salvation.”[12] In 1002, it is recorded in the Saxon Chronicle, that “the king (Ethelred) ordered all the Danish men who were in England to be slain, because it was made known to him that they would treacherously bereave him of his life, and after that have his kingdom without any gainsaying.” In accordance with the royal mandate, which was circulated in secret, the Anglo-Saxon populace of the villages and farms of the Fylde, as elsewhere, rose at the appointed day upon the unprepared and unsuspecting Northmen, barbarously massacring old and young, male and female alike. Great must have been the slaughter in districts like our own, where from the Danes having been established for so many generations and its proximity to the coast and the estuaries of Wyre and Ribble, a safe landing and a friendly soil would be insured, and attract numbers of their countrymen from Scandinavia. The vengeance of Sweyn, king of Denmark, was speedy and complete; the country of Northumbria was laid waste, towns and hamlets were pillaged and destroyed, and for four years all that fire and sword, spurred on by hatred and revenge, could effect in depopulating and devastating a land was accomplished in Lancashire, and the neighbouring counties, by the enraged Dane. Half a century later than the events just narrated, earl Tosti, the brother of Harold, who forfeited his life and kingdom to the Norman invaders on the field of Hastings, was chosen duke of Northumbria. The seat of the new ruler has not been discovered, but as far as his personal association with the Fylde is concerned it will be sufficient to state that almost on its boundaries, in the township of Preston, he held six hundred acres of cultivated soil, to which all the lands and villages of Amounderness were tributary. As a governor Tosti proved himself both brutal and oppressive. In a very limited space of time his tyrannical and merciless conduct goaded his subjects to rebellion, and with one consent they ejected him from his dukedom and elected earl Morcar in his stead, a step commended and confirmed by Harold, when the unjust severity of his brother had been made known to him. Tosti embraced the Norman cause, and fell at the head of a Norwegian force in an engagement which took place at Standford a few months before the famous and eventful battle of Hastings.

We have now traced briefly the history of the Fylde through a period of eleven hundred years, and before entering on the era which dates from the accession of William the Conqueror, it will be well to review the traces and influences of the three dissimilar races, which have at different epochs usurped and settled on the territory of the old Setantii; our reference is, of course, to the Romans, Anglo-Saxons, and Danes. Under the first, great advances were made in civilisation; clearings were effected in the woods, the marshes were trenched, and lasting lines of communication were established between the various stations and encampments. The peaceful arts were cultivated, and agriculture made considerable progress, corn even, from some parts of Britain, being exported to the continent. Remains of the Roman occupation are to be observed in the names of a few towns, as Colne and Lincoln, from Colonia, a Colony, also Chester and Lancaster, from Castra, a Camp, as well as in relics like those enumerated earlier. The word “street” is derived from Stratum, a layer, covering, or pavement. Their festival of Flora originated our May-day celebrations, and the paraphernalia of marriage, including the ring, veil, gifts, bride-cake, bridesmaids, and groomsmen, are Roman; so also are the customs of strewing flowers upon graves, and wearing black in time of mourning. That the Romans had many stations in the Fylde is improbable, but that they certainly had one in the township of Kirkham is shown by the number and character of the relics found there. This settlement would seem to have been a fairly populous one, if an opinion may be formed from the quantity of cinereal urns discovered at various times, in which had been deposited the cremated remains of Romans, who had spent their days and done good service in levelling the forests and developing the resources of the Fylde. The traffic over the Roman road through the district must have been almost continuous, to judge from the abundance of horse-shoes and other matters picked up along its route, and whether the harbour of the Setantii was on Wyre, Ribble, or elsewhere, it is evident from the course taken by the well constructed path that something of importance, say a favourable spot for embarcation or debarcation, attracted the inhabitants across the soil of the Fylde towards its north-west boundary. Now arises the question what was the boundary here denoted, and in reply we venture to suggest that the extent of this district, in both a northerly and westerly direction, was much greater in ancient days than it is in our own, and that the Lune formed its highest boundary, whilst its seaward limits, opposite Rossall, were carried out to a distance of nearly eight miles beyond the existing coast, and comprised what is now denominated Shell Wharf, a bank so shallowly covered at low water spring tides that huge boulders become visible all over it. Novel as such a theory may at first sight appear, there is much that can be advanced in support of it. From about the point in Morecambe Bay, near the foot of Wyre Lighthouse, where the stream of Wyre meets that of Lune at right angles, there is the commencement of a long deep channel, apparently continuous with the bed of the latter river as defined by its sandbanks, which extends out into the Irish Sea for rather more than seven miles west of the mouth of Morecambe Bay, at Rossall Point. This channel, called “Lune Deep,” is described on the authorised charts as being in several places twenty-seven fathoms deep, in others rather less, and at its somewhat abrupt termination twenty-three fathoms. Throughout the entire length its boundaries are well and clearly marked, and its sudden declivity is described by the local mariners as being “steep as a house side.” Regarding this curious phenomenon from every available point of view, it seems more probable to us that so long and perfect a channel was formed at an early period, when the river Lune was, as we conjecture, continued from its present mouth, at Heysham Point, through green plains, now the Bay of Lancaster, in the direction and to the distance of “Lune Deep,” than that it was excavated by the current of Lune, as it exists to-day, after mingling with the waters of Morecambe and Wyre. The course and completeness of Wyre channel from Fleetwood, between the sandbanks called Bernard’s Wharf and North Wharf, to its point of junction with the stream from Lancaster, prove satisfactorily that at one time the former river was a tributary of the Lune. Other evidence can be brought forward of the theory we are wishful to establish—that the southern portion of Morecambe Bay, from about Heysham Point, bearing the name of Lancaster Bay, as well as “Shell Wharf” was about the era of the Romans, dry or, at least, marshy land watered by the Wyre and Lune, the latter of which would open on the west coast immediately into the Irish Sea. If the reader refer to a map of Lancashire he will see at once that the smaller bay has many appearances of having been added to the larger one, and that its floor is formed by a continuous line of banks, uncovered each ebb tide and intersected only by the channels of Wyre and Lune. The Land Mark, at Rossall Point, has been removed several times owing to the incursions of the sea, and within the memory of the living generation wide tracts of soil, amounting to more than a quarter of a mile westward, have been swallowed up on that part of the coast, as the strong currents of the rising tides have swept into the bay; and in such manner would the land about the estuary of “Lune Deep,” that is the original river of Lune, be washed away. As the encroachments of the sea progressed, the channel of the river would be gradually widened and deepened to the present dimensions of the “Deep”; the stream of Wyre would by degrees be brought more immediately under the tidal influence, and in proportion as the Lune was absorbed into the bay, so would its tributary lose its shallowness and insignificance, and become expanded to a more important and navigable size. About the time that “Lune Deep” had ceased to exist as a river, and become part of the bay, the overcharged banks of the Wyre would have yielded up their super-abundance of waters over the districts now marked by Bernard’s Wharf and North Wharf, and subsequently, as the waves continued their incursions, inundations would increase, until finally the whole territory, forming the site of Lancaster Bay, would be submerged and appropriated by the rapacious hosts of Neptune. The “Shell Wharf” would be covered in a manner exactly similar to the more recently lost fields off Rossall; and as illustrations of land carried away from the west coast in that neighbourhood, may be instanced a farm called Fenny, at Rossall, which was removed back from threatened destruction by the waves at least four times within the last fifty years, when its re-building was abandoned, and its site soon swept over by the billows; also the village of Singleton Thorp, which occupied the locality marked by “Singleton Skeer” off Cleveleys until 1555, when it was destroyed by an irruption of the sea. Numerous other instances in which the coast line has been altered and driven eastward, between Rossall Point and the mouth of Ribble, during both actually and comparatively modern days might be cited, but the above are sufficient to support our view of the former connection of “Shell Wharf” with the main-land, and its gradual submersion. If on the map, the Bay of Lancaster be detached from that of Morecambe, the latter still retains a most imposing aspect, and its identity with the Moricambe Æstuarium of Ptolemy is in no way interfered with or rendered less evident. The foregoing, as our antiquarian readers will doubtless have surmised, is but a prelude to something more, for it is our purpose to endeavour to disturb the forty years of quiet repose enjoyed by the Portus Setantiorum on the banks of the Wyre and hurl it far into the Irish Sea, to the very limits of the “Lune Deep,” where, on the original estuary of the river Lune, we believe to be its legitimate home. No locality, as yet claiming to be the site of the ancient harbour, accords so well with the distances given by Ptolemy. Assuming the Dee and the Ribble to represent respectively, as now generally admitted, the Seteia Æstuarium and the Belisama Æstuarium, the Portus Setantiorum should lie about seven miles[13] to the west and twenty-five to the north of the Belisama. The position of the “Lune Deep” termination is just about seven miles to the west of the estuary of the Ribble, but is, like most other places whose stations have been mentioned by Ptolemy, defective in its latitudinal measurement according to the record left by that geographer, being only fifteen instead of twenty-five miles north of the Belisama or Ribble estuary. Rigodunum, or Ribchester, is fully thirty miles to the east of the spot where it is wished to locate the Portus, and thus approaches very nearly to the forty-mile measurement of Ptolemy, whose distances, as just hinted, were universally excessive. As an instance of such error it may be stated that the longitude, east from Ferro, of Morecambe Bay or Estuary given by Ptolemy, is 3° 40´ in excess of that marked on modern maps of ancient Britannia, and if the same over-plus be allowed in the longitude of the Portus Setantiorum a line drawn in accordance, from north to south, would pass across the west extremity of the “Lune Deep,” showing that its distance from the Bay corresponds pretty accurately with that of the Portus from the Morecambe Æstuarium as geographically fixed by Ptolemy. In describing the extent and direction of the Roman road, or Danes’ Pad, in his “History of Blackpool and Neighbourhood,” Mr. Thornber writes:—“Commencing at the terminus, we trace its course from the Warren, near the spot named the ‘Abbot’s walk’;” but that the place thus indicated was not the terminus, in the sense of end or origin, is proved by the fact that shortly after the publication of this statement, the workmen engaged in excavating for a sea-wall foundation in that vicinity came upon the road in the sand on the very margin of the Warren. Hence it would seem that the path was continued onwards over the site of the North Wharf sand bank, either towards the foot of Wyre where its channel joins that of Lune, and where would be the original mouth of the former river, or, as we think more probable, towards the Lune itself, and along its banks westward to the estuary of the stream, as now marked by the termination of “Lune Deep.” The Wyre, during the period it existed simply as a tributary of the Lune, a name very possibly compounded from the Celtic al, chief, and aun, or un, contractions of afon, a river, must have been a stream of comparatively slight utility in a navigable point of view, and even to this day its seaward channel from Fleetwood is obstructed by two shallows, denominated from time out of mind the Great and Little Fords. The Lune, or “Chief River,” on the contrary, was evidently, from its very title, whether acquired from its relative position to its tributary, or from its favourable comparison with other rivers of the neighbourhood, which is less likely, regarded by the natives as a stream of no insignificant magnitude and importance. As far as its navigability was concerned the Portus may have been placed on its banks near to the junction of Wyre, but the distances of Ptolemy, which agree pretty fairly, as shown above, with the location of the Portus on the west extremity of the present “Lune Deep,” are incompatible with such a station as this one for the same harbour. The collection of coins discovered near Rossall may imply the existence in early days of a settlement west of that shore, and many remains of the Romans may yet be mingled with the sand and shingle for centuries submerged by the water of the still encroaching Irish Sea. Leaving this long-argued question of the real site of the Portus Setantiorum, in which perhaps the patience of our readers has been rather unduly tried, and soliciting others to test more thoroughly the merits of the ideas here thrown out, we will hasten to examine the traces of the Anglo-Saxons and Danes.

Many, in fact most, of the towns and villages of the Fylde were founded by the Anglo-Saxons, and have retained the names, generally in a modified form, bestowed upon them by that race, as instance Singleton, Lytham, Mythorp, all of which have Saxon terminals signifying a dwelling, village, or enclosure. The word hearb, genitive hearges, indicates in the vocabulary of the same people a heathen temple or place of sacrifice, and as it is to be traced in the endings of Goosnargh, and Kellamergh, there need be no hesitation in surmising that the barbarous and pagan rites of the Saxons were celebrated there, before their conversion to Christianity. Ley, or lay, whether at the beginning of a name, as in Layton, or at end, as in Boonley, signifies a field, and is from the Saxon leag; whilst Hawes and Holme imply, respectively, a group of thorps or hamlets, and a river island. Breck, Warbreck, and Larbreck, derive their final syllables from the Norse brecka, a gentle rise; and from that language comes also the terminal by, in Westby, Ribby, and other places, as well as the kirk in Kirkham, all of which point out the localities occupied by the Danes, or Norsemen. Lund was doubtless the site of a sacred grove of these colonists and the scene of many a dark and cruel ceremony, its derivation being from the ancient Norse lundr, a consecrated grove, where such rites were performed.

At the present time it is difficult, if indeed possible, to determine from what races our own native population has descended, and the subject is one which has provoked more than a little controversy. Palgrave, in his “History of the Anglo-Saxons,” says:—“From the Ribble in Lancashire, or thereabouts, up to the Clyde, there existed a dense population composed of Britons, who preserved their national language and customs, agreeing in all respects with the Welsh of the present day; so that even to the tenth century the ancient Britons still inhabited the greater part of the west coast of the island, however much they had been compelled to yield to the political supremacy of the Saxon invaders.” Mr. Thornber states that he has been “frequently told by those who were reputed judges” that the manners, customs, and dialect of the Fylde partook far more of the Welsh than of the Saxon, and that this was more perceptible half a century ago than now (1837). “The pronunciation,” he adds, “of the words—laughing, toffee, haughendo, etc., the Shibboleth of the Fylde—always reminds me of the deep gutterals of the Welsh,[14] and the frequent use of a particular oath is, alas! too common to both.” Another investigator, Dr. Robson, holds an entirely different opinion, and maintains in his paper on Lancashire and Cheshire, that there is no sufficient foundation for the common belief that the inhabitants of any portion of those counties have been at any time either Welsh, or Celtic; and that the Celtic tribes at the earliest known period were confined to certain districts, which may be traced, together with the extent of their dominions, by the Celtic names of places both in Wales and Cornwall. From another source we are informed that at the date of the Roman abdication the original Celtic population would have dwindled down to an insignificant number acting as serfs and tillers of the land, and not likely to have much influence upon future generations. Mr. Hardwick, in his History of Preston, writes:—“Few women would accompany the Roman colonists, auxiliaries, and soldiers into Britain; hence it is but rational to conclude, that during the long period of their dominion, numerous intermarriages with the native population would take place.” Admitting the force of reasoning brought forward by the last authority, it can readily be conceived that the purity of the aboriginal tribes would in a great measure be destroyed at an early epoch, and that subsequent alliances with the Anglo-Saxons, Danes, and Normans, have rendered all conjectures as to the race of forefathers to which the inhabitants of the Fylde have most claim practically valueless.

The dense forests with which our district in the earliest historic periods abounded must have been well supplied with beasts of chase, whereon the Aborigines exercised their courage and craft, and from which their clothing and, in a great measure, their sustenance were derived. The large branching horns of the Wild Deer have been found in the ground at Larbrick, and during the excavations for the North Union and East Lancashire Railway Bridges over the Ribble, in 1838 and 1846 respectively, numerous remains of the huge ox, called the Bos primigenius, and the Bos longifrons, or long-faced ox, as well as of wild boars and bears, were raised from beneath the bed of the river, so that it is extremely likely that similar relics of the brute creation are lying deeply buried in our soil. Such a supposition is at least warranted by the discovery, half-a-century ago, of the skull and short upright horns of a stag and those of an ox, of a breed no longer known, at the bottom of a marl pit near Rossall. Bones and sculls, chiefly those of deer and oxen, have been taken from under the peat in all the mosses, and two osseous relics, consisting each of skull and horns, of immense specimens of the latter animal, have been dug up at Kirkham. In the “Reliquiæ Diluvianæ” of Mr. Buckland is a figure of the scull of a rhinoceros belonging to the antediluvian age, and stated to have been discovered beneath a moss in Lancashire.