Anchorite House - Revision history

Robinsonj: /* Curwen, 1900 p 157 */

2017-09-21T23:30:40Z

‎Curwen, 1900 p 157

Robinsonj: Curwen 1900

2017-09-14T02:45:39Z

Curwen 1900

Robinsonj: first text

2016-10-30T00:14:44Z

first text

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[[Anchorite Road]]

<blockquote>On the west side of [[Kirkland]], is a house called Anchorite House, which, as the name implies, has been formerly the sequestered abode of an anchorite, or religious recluse. Tradition reports, that it was originally a small hut, the shape of a bee-hive; and the narrow road which conducted to it made two circles round the house: and the fences of that road concealed the dwelling from the gaze of passengers. Before the house is a fine spring of clear, pure water, called "[[Anchorite Well]]," which supplies the principal part of [[Kirkland]] -

"Wherein the Hermit dewly wont to say
His holy things each morn and eventide;
Thereby a crystall streame did gently play,
Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway."
(Spenser)</blockquote>

[[Category:Religious House]][[Category:Anchorite]]

@@ Line 32: / Line 32: @@
 Thereby a crystall stream did gently play, Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway."
-There is a pleasant legend about this place well worth repeating here. It was toward the end of the reign of King Edward III. that an Anchorite appeared in Kendal in the habit of a palmer, with the crossed staff, the robe, and the broad flat hat decorated with a cockle shell upon his tanned and withered forehead, which denoted that he had been in the Holy Land. Nobody enquired who or what the pilgrim was, for the class were as common as commercial travellers are today; but, although he lived on the humblest fare, he bestowed much money in alms on the lepers and licensed beggars who infested the highways, sat before the cross house, or hung around the church doorways. After a time he busied himself in collecting stones from the fellside and, having purchased a small piece of land from the Abbey of St. Mary's at York, he constructed for himself a hovel, furnished with the rudest and simplest materials, and took up his abode by this spring. But gossip and curiosity soon began to be aroused concerning the stranger, who had laid aside his staff and changed his pilgrim's weeds to assume a coarse white cassock of Kendal cloth, and who was always busy cultivating the ground attached to his cell by the well side. The anchorite was deemed an holy man, and the spring became the resort of the afflicted, who fondly thought that its pure waters and the prayers of the hermit, versed in the healing arts of the east, were capable of performing miracles. At last he fell sick unto death, and confessed to Father Ralf the story of his only love. Long years gone by, his Blanche was all to him, smiling upon and sharing his every dream of happiness, embroidered his scarf, and wrought the blazon of his knightly pennon when he won his spurs bu capturing a Scottish cheif. They never spoke of love; theirs was no lip worship. The two souls intermingled, as it were, by instinct, and both were blessed; until one day, whilst staying at Kendal Castle, an usurping brother's love marred all. His Blanche was lost to him, fear succeeded to frenzy, and that same night he concealed their bodies beside this well. Selling his patrimony he assumed the cross, hoping to lose his burden by warfare against the infidels; but on his return he was again attracted hither, and built his hermitage over the relics of his only love. So did Father Ralf confess him, and by means of the hoard he left behind, masses for the soul of Julian de Clifford continued to be said in Kendal Church till the period of the reformation.
+There is a pleasant legend about this place well worth repeating here. It was toward the end of the reign of King Edward III. that an Anchorite appeared in Kendal in the habit of a palmer, with the crossed staff, the robe, and the broad flat hat decorated with a cockle shell upon his tanned and withered forehead, which denoted that he had been in the Holy Land. Nobody enquired who or what the pilgrim was, for the class were as common as commercial travellers are today; but, although he lived on the humblest fare, he bestowed much money in alms on the lepers and licensed beggars who infested the highways, sat before the cross house, or hung around the church doorways. After a time he busied himself in collecting stones from the fellside and, having purchased a small piece of land from the Abbey of St. Mary's at York, he constructed for himself a hovel, furnished with the rudest and simplest materials, and took up his abode by this spring. But gossip and curiosity soon began to be aroused concerning the stranger, who had laid aside his staff and changed his pilgrim's weeds to assume a coarse white cassock of Kendal cloth, and who was always busy cultivating the ground attached to his cell by the well side. The anchorite was deemed an holy man, and the spring became the resort of the afflicted, who fondly thought that its pure waters and the prayers of the hermit, versed in the healing arts of the east, were capable of performing miracles. At last he fell sick unto death, and confessed to Father Ralf the story of his only love. Long years gone by, his Blanche was all to him, smiling upon and sharing his every dream of happiness, embroidered his scarf, and wrought the blazon of his knightly pennon when he won his spurs by capturing a Scottish chief. They never spoke of love; theirs was no lip worship. The two souls intermingled, as it were, by instinct, and both were blessed; until one day, whilst staying at Kendal Castle, an usurping brother's love marred all. His Blanche was lost to him, fear succeeded to frenzy, and that same night he concealed their bodies beside this well. Selling his patrimony he assumed the cross, hoping to lose his burden by warfare against the infidels; but on his return he was again attracted hither, and built his hermitage over the relics of his only love. So did Father Ralf confess him, and by means of the hoard he left behind, masses for the soul of Julian de Clifford continued to be said in Kendal Church till the period of the reformation.
 </blockquote>

@@ Line 1: / Line 1: @@
 [[Anchorite Road]]
 <blockquote>On the west side of [[Kirkland]], is a house called Anchorite House, which, as the name implies, has been formerly the sequestered abode of an anchorite, or religious recluse. Tradition reports, that it was originally a small hut, the shape of a bee-hive; and the narrow road which conducted to it made two circles round the house: and the fences of that road concealed the dwelling from the gaze of passengers. Before the house is a fine spring of clear, pure water, called "[[Anchorite Well]]," which supplies the principal part of [[Kirkland]] -
@@ Line 7: / Line 44: @@
 Thereby a crystall streame did gently play,
 Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway."
-(Spenser)</blockquote>
+</blockquote>
 [[Category:Religious House]][[Category:Anchorite]]