THE CRIER of CLAIFE
by James Bowker · from Goblin Tales of Lancashire
Adapted Version
Long ago, an Old Man lived by a lake. He had a house and a boat. One night, the wind blew. The Old Man heard a loud, scary sound. It came from across the big lake.
His family said, "Do not go!" But the Old Man was brave. He got in his boat. He rowed across the lake. He went to find the sound.
The Old Man came back. He was very, very scared. He could not talk. He did not say what he saw. He went to sleep. This was after some days. He did not wake up.
His Wife and Daughter left the house. It was too sad. Two new men came. They lived in the house. They used the small boat. They were ferrymen.
One night, the new ferrymen heard the sound. It was the loud, scary sound. It came from across the lake. They remembered the Old Man. They did not go in the boat. They did not cross the lake.
The scary sound came often. It came on stormy nights. People heard the sound. They were very afraid. So people stopped using the ferry boat.
One ferryman was sad. He went to a big church. It was far away. He went to find good monks. He wanted help.
A good monk listened. He said, "I will help." The monk came back with the ferryman. They came to the lake.
One stormy night came. The scary sound came again. The good monk got in the boat. The ferrymen got in the boat. They rowed out onto the lake.
On the lake, the wind stopped. A strange, sad ghost appeared. It looked very sad. The ferrymen were a little scared. But the good monk was brave.
The good monk said a special prayer. He had special water. He threw the special water. The sad ghost went away.
The good monk sent the sad ghost. He sent it to a quiet, old place. It was far away.
The lake was quiet and safe again. The sad ghost never came back. Everyone was happy.
Original Story
THE CRIER OF CLAIFE.
UPON a wild winter night, some centuries ago, the old man who plied the ferry-boat on Windermere, and who lived in a lonely cottage on the Lancashire side of the Lake, was awakened from his sleep by an exceedingly shrill and terrible shriek, which seemed to come from the opposite shore. The wind was whistling and moaning round the house, and for a little while the ferryman and his family fancied that the cry by which they had been disturbed was nothing more than one of the mournful voices of the storm; but soon again came another shriek, even more awe-inspiring than the former one, and this was followed by smothered shouts and groans of a most unearthly nature.
Against the wishes of his terrified relatives, who clung to him, and besought him to remain indoors, the old fellow bravely determined to cross the water, and heeding not the prayers of his wife and daughter, he unfastened his boat, and rowed away. The two women, clasped in each other's arms, trembling with fear, stood at the little door, and endeavoured to make out the form of their protector; but the darkness was too deep for them to see anything upon the lake. At intervals, however, the terrible cry rang out through the gloom, and shrieks and moans were heard loud above the mysterious noises of the night.
In a state of dreadful suspense and terror the women stood for some time, but at length they saw the boat suddenly emerge from the darkness, and shoot into the little cove. To their great surprise, however, the ferryman, who could be seen sitting alone, made no effort to land, and make his way to the cottage; so, fearing that something dreadful had happened to him, and, impelled by love, they rushed to the side of the lake. They found the old man speechless, his face as white and blanched as the snow upon the Nab, and his whole body trembling under the influence of terror, and they immediately led him to the cottage, but though appealed to, to say what terrible object he had seen, he made no other response than an occasional subdued moan. For several days he remained in that state, deaf to their piteous entreaties, and staring at them with wild-looking eyes; but at length the end came, and, during the gloaming of a beautiful day, he died, without having revealed to those around him what he had seen when, in answer to the midnight cry, he had rowed the ferry-boat across the storm-ruffled lake.
After the funeral had taken place the women left the house, its associations being too painful to permit of their stay, and went to live at Hawkshead, whence two sturdy men, with their respective families, removed to the ferry. The day following that of the arrival of the new-comers was rough and wild, and, soon after darkness had hidden everything in its sable folds, across the lake came the fearful cry, followed by a faint shout for a boat, and screams and moans. The men, hardy as they were, and often as they had laughed at the story told by the widow of the dead man, no sooner heard the first shriek ring through the cottage than they were smitten with terror. Profiting, however, by the experience of their predecessor, and influenced by fear, they did not make any attempt to cross the lake, and the cries continued until some time after midnight.
Afterwards, whenever the day closed gloomily, and ushered in a stormy night, and the wind lashed the water of the lake into fury, the terrible noises were heard with startling distinctness, until at length the dwellers in the cottage became so accustomed to the noises as not to be disturbed by them, or, if disturbed, to fall asleep again after an ejaculation of 't' crier!' Pedlars and others who had to cross the lake, however, were not so hardened, and after a time the ferry-boat was almost disused, for the superstitious people did not dare to cross the haunted water, save in the broad daylight of summer.
It therefore struck the two individuals who were most concerned in the maintenance of the ferry that if they intended to live they must do something to rid the place of its bad name, and of the unseen being who had driven away all their patrons. In their extremity they asked each other who should help them, if not the holy monks, who had come over the sea to the abbey in the Valley of Deadly Night Shade; and one of the ferrymen at once set out for Furness. No sooner had he set eyes upon the stately pile erected by the Savignian and his companions than his heart felt lighter, for he had a simple faith in the marvellous power of the white-robed men, whose voices were seldom if ever heard, save when lifted in worship during one of their seven daily services.
Knocking at the massive door, he was received by a ruddy-looking servitor, who ushered him into the presence of the abbot. The ferryman soon told his story, and begged that a monk might return with him to lay the troubled spirit, and after hearing the particulars of the visitation, the abbot granted the request, making a proviso, however, that the abbey coffers should not be forgotten when the lake was freed from the fiend.
No sooner had the visitor finished the meal set before him by the hospitable monks than, in company with one of the holy men, he set out homeward. As, by a rule of his order, the monk was not permitted to converse, the journey was not an enlivening one, and the ferryman was heartily glad when they reached his cottage.
The first night passed without any alarm, the monk and his hosts spending the dreary hours in watching and waiting. The following day, however, was as stormy as the worst enemy of the ferry could have wished, and, when night fell, all the dwellers in the cottage, as well as the silent monk, gathered together again to wait for the cries, but some hours passed without any other sounds having been heard than those caused by the restless wind, as it swept over the lake and among the trees. The Cistercian was beginning to imagine himself the victim of an irreverent practical joke, and that the stories of the spectral crier which had reached the distant abbey long before the ferryman's visit were a pack of falsehoods, when about midnight, he suddenly jumped from the chair upon which he was dozing by the wood fire, hastily made the sign of the cross, and hurriedly commended himself to the protection of his patron saint, for sharp and clear came the dread cry, followed rapidly by a number of shrieks and groans and a smothered appeal for a boat.
In an instant one of the men, with courage doubtless inspired by the presence of the holy man, shouldered the oars and opened the door, and the monk at once stepped into the open air and hurried to the lake, the men following at a respectful distance. The white-robed father was the first to get into the boat, and the ferrymen hoped that he intended to go alone, but he called upon them to propel the boat to the middle of the lake, and much as they disliked the task, as it was on their behalf that the monk was about to combat the evil spirit, they could not well refuse to accompany him.
When they were about half-way across the lake the wind suddenly lulled, and once more they heard the awful scream, and this time it sounded as though the crier was quite close to them. The occupants of the boat were terribly frightened, and one of them, after suddenly shrieking 'he's here,' fainted, and lay still at the bottom of the boat, while the monk and the other man stared straight before them, as though petrified.
There was a fourth person present, a grim and ghastly figure, with the trappings of this life still dangling about its withered and shrunken limbs, and a gaping wound in its pallid throat. For a few minutes there was a dead silence, but at last it was broken by the monk, who rapidly muttered a prayer for protection against evil spirits, and then took a bottle from a pocket of his robe, and sprinkled a few drops of holy water upon himself and the ferryman, who remained in the same statuesque attitude, and upon the unconscious occupant of the bottom of the boat. After this ceremony, he opened a little book, and, in a sonorous voice, intoned the form for the exorcism of a wandering soul, concluding with Vade ad Gehennam! when to the infinite relief of the ferryman, and probably of the monk also, the ghastly figure forthwith vanished.
The Cistercian asked to be immediately taken to the shore, and when he neared the house, the little book was again brought into requisition, and the spirit's visits, should it ever again put in an appearance, limited to an old and disused quarry, a distance from the cottage.31
From that time to this, the wild, lonely place has indeed been desolate and deserted, the boldest people of the district not having sufficient courage to venture near it at nightfall, and the more timid ones shunning the locality even at noonday. These folks aver that even yet, despite the prayers and exorcisms of the white-robed Cistercian from Furness, whenever a storm descends upon the lake, the Crier escapes from his temporary prison house, and revisits the scene of his first and second appearance to men, and that on such nights, loud above the echoed rumble of the thunder, and the lonely sough of the wind, the benighted wayfarer still hears the wild shrieks and the muffled cry for a boat.
Story DNA
Plot Summary
On a wild winter night, an old ferryman on Windermere hears terrifying shrieks from across the lake, rows over, and returns speechless with fear, dying days later. New ferrymen move in, also hear the cries, and, fearing the same fate, refuse to cross, leading to the ferry's disuse. Desperate, one ferryman seeks help from Furness Abbey, and a Cistercian monk is sent. The monk, accompanied by the ferrymen, confronts the ghastly Crier on the lake, performs an exorcism, and banishes the spirit to an old quarry. However, locals still believe the Crier escapes during storms, its cries echoing over the desolate lake.
Themes
Emotional Arc
fear to temporary relief, with lingering dread
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
The story reflects pre-industrial rural life, reliance on ferries, and the significant role of religious institutions like abbeys in local life and belief systems.
Plot Beats (14)
- An old ferryman is awakened by terrifying shrieks from across Windermere on a stormy night.
- Despite his family's pleas, he rows across the lake to investigate.
- He returns speechless, paralyzed by fear, and dies days later without revealing what he encountered.
- His widow and daughter leave, and two new ferrymen take over the cottage.
- The new ferrymen also hear the terrifying cries but, learning from their predecessor's fate, refuse to cross the lake.
- The cries become a regular occurrence on stormy nights, eventually leading to the disuse of the ferry due to public superstition.
- One of the ferrymen travels to Furness Abbey to seek help from the holy monks.
- The abbot agrees to send a Cistercian monk to lay the troubled spirit, with a proviso for payment.
- The monk and ferryman return, and the monk prepares to confront the spirit.
- On a stormy night, the Crier's shrieks return, and the monk, with the ferrymen, rows out onto the lake.
- Mid-lake, the wind lulls, and a ghastly figure with a gaping throat appears in the boat, terrifying the ferrymen.
- The monk performs a prayer, sprinkles holy water, and recites an exorcism, causing the Crier to vanish.
- The monk banishes the spirit to an old, disused quarry near the cottage.
- The area around the quarry remains desolate and feared, as locals believe the Crier still escapes during storms, its cries echoing over the lake.
Characters
The Old Ferryman ★ protagonist
An old man, likely of sturdy build from years of physical labor, but his face becomes ashen and blanched like snow after his encounter. His body trembles uncontrollably from terror.
Attire: Simple, practical clothing suitable for a ferryman in centuries past on Windermere, likely made of durable wool or linen in muted, earthy tones, perhaps a thick tunic and trousers, with a heavy cloak for warmth against the elements.
Wants: To protect his family and respond to cries for help, driven by a sense of duty and courage. Later, his motivation is simply to survive the terror he experienced.
Flaw: Vulnerable to supernatural terror, unable to articulate his experience, leading to his demise.
Starts as a brave, dutiful man, but his encounter with the Crier breaks him completely, leading to his silent, terrified death.
Brave, determined, loving (towards his family), stoic (in his silence after the encounter), terrified.
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly man with a weathered, pale face, wide, wild-looking blue eyes, and thin grey hair. He wears a thick, dark brown wool tunic, practical grey linen trousers, and sturdy leather boots. His body is slightly hunched and trembling, hands clasped tightly. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Old Ferryman's Wife ◆ supporting
Not explicitly described, but likely a woman of mature age, possibly showing signs of a life of hard work. Her body trembles with fear.
Attire: Simple, practical clothing typical of a ferryman's wife in rural 17th-18th century England, likely a long, plain linen or wool dress, perhaps an apron, in muted colors.
Wants: To keep her family safe, to understand what happened to her husband.
Flaw: Overwhelmed by fear and helplessness in the face of the supernatural.
Starts as a fearful but devoted wife, endures her husband's terrifying decline and death, then moves away with her daughter to escape the painful memories.
Terrified, loving, protective (of her husband), piteous (in her entreaties).
Image Prompt & Upload
A middle-aged woman with a worried expression, fair skin, and dark brown hair pulled back in a simple bun. She wears a long, plain grey linen dress with a cream-colored apron over it. Her hands are clasped tightly in front of her, and her shoulders are slightly hunched. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Old Ferryman's Daughter ◆ supporting
Not explicitly described, but likely a young woman, trembling with fear.
Attire: Simple, practical clothing typical of a ferryman's daughter in rural 17th-18th century England, likely a long, plain linen or wool dress, in muted colors.
Wants: To keep her family safe, to understand what happened to her father.
Flaw: Overwhelmed by fear and helplessness in the face of the supernatural.
Starts as a fearful but devoted daughter, endures her father's terrifying decline and death, then moves away with her mother to escape the painful memories.
Terrified, loving, protective (of her father), piteous (in her entreaties).
Image Prompt & Upload
A young adult woman with a fearful expression, fair skin, and long, light brown hair braided over one shoulder. She wears a simple, long-sleeved forest green linen dress. Her hands are held close to her chest, and her shoulders are slightly hunched. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Crier of Claife ⚔ antagonist
A grim and ghastly figure, with withered and shrunken limbs. It has a gaping wound in its pallid throat. The 'trappings of this life' still dangle about it, suggesting remnants of clothing or personal effects.
Attire: Remnants of clothing, referred to as 'trappings of this life', still dangle about its limbs. These would be tattered, decayed, and indistinct, perhaps dark and heavy fabrics.
Wants: To be heard, to seek a boat, possibly to cross the lake or find peace, though its methods are terrifying.
Flaw: Vulnerable to holy water and exorcism rites, specifically 'Vade ad Gehennam!'.
Remains a persistent, terrifying presence until it is confronted and banished by the Cistercian monk to a disused quarry.
Terrifying, persistent, mournful (implied by cries), malevolent (in its effect on humans).
Image Prompt & Upload
A translucent, grim, and ghastly spectral figure, appearing as a withered and shrunken human form. Its skin is pallid and translucent, with a prominent gaping wound in its throat. Tattered, dark, indistinct fabric remnants cling to its limbs, suggesting ancient clothing. Its posture is slightly hunched, with an ethereal quality. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Cistercian Monk ◆ supporting
Not explicitly described, but implied to be a man of spiritual authority and calm demeanor. He is 'white-robed'.
Attire: A white Cistercian habit, consisting of a long white tunic, a black scapular, and a white cowl. The fabric would be simple, undyed wool or linen.
Wants: To lay the troubled spirit and free the lake from the fiend, fulfilling his monastic duty and aiding those in need.
Flaw: Bound by the rules of his order (e.g., not permitted to converse), initially skeptical of the stories.
Remains steadfast in his faith and duty, successfully banishing the Crier and bringing peace to the lake, demonstrating the power of spiritual intervention.
Holy, silent (by rule), resolute, courageous, faithful, practical (in his request for abbey coffers).
Image Prompt & Upload
A male Cistercian monk, standing upright, facing forward. He has a shaven head and a calm, resolute expression. He wears a long, flowing white wool tunic, a black scapular over it, and a white cowl. In his right hand, he holds a small, leather-bound book, and in his left, a small glass bottle. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Ferryman's Cottage on Windermere
A lonely, small cottage situated on the Lancashire side of Windermere, likely a simple, sturdy stone or timber dwelling typical of the Lake District, with a 'little door' and a 'wood fire' inside. It's exposed to the elements, with wind 'whistling and moaning round the house'.
Mood: Terrified, suspenseful, later accustomed to dread, then hopeful
The ferryman and his family are repeatedly disturbed by the Crier's shrieks; the new ferrymen also hear the cries here; the monk waits here before the exorcism.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, sturdy stone cottage with a thatched or slate roof, nestled on a slightly elevated bank overlooking a vast, dark lake. Wind-whipped trees, possibly gnarled oaks or birches, are silhouetted against a turbulent, moonless night sky. A faint, warm glow emanates from a small window, suggesting a hearth fire within. The ground around the cottage is rough and windswept. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Lake Windermere (Middle)
A large, storm-ruffled lake in the Lake District, dark and turbulent, especially at night. The water is lashed into fury by the wind, reflecting the dark, stormy sky. The middle of the lake is where the spectral encounter occurs.
Mood: Terrifying, supernatural, suspenseful, eerie
The old ferryman crosses the lake and encounters the Crier; the monk and new ferrymen confront and exorcise the spirit here.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, weathered wooden rowboat is tossed on the dark, churning waters of a vast lake under a tempestuous night sky. Heavy, bruised clouds obscure any moonlight, casting the scene in deep, ominous blues and grays. The water's surface is a chaotic mosaic of whitecaps and dark troughs. Distant, shadowy hills line the horizon, barely visible through the gloom. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Furness Abbey
A 'stately pile' of an abbey, likely Cistercian, with 'massive door' and 'white-robed men'. Historically, Furness Abbey was a large, red sandstone Cistercian monastery in Cumbria, known for its Gothic architecture and extensive ruins.
Mood: Solemn, holy, hopeful, ancient
One of the new ferrymen travels here to seek help from the monks to lay the troubled spirit.
Image Prompt & Upload
A grand, weathered Cistercian abbey, constructed from deep red sandstone, stands majestically within a verdant valley. Intricate Gothic arches and tall, narrow windows define its 'stately pile'. A massive, dark wooden door is set into a thick stone wall. The surrounding landscape features rolling green hills and scattered ancient trees, with a hint of a winding path leading towards the abbey. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Disused Quarry
An 'old and disused quarry' located 'a distance from the cottage', now serving as the Crier's temporary prison. Quarries in the Lake District are typically slate or stone, with sheer rock faces and possibly water-filled hollows.
Mood: Desolate, deserted, eerie, haunted
The Crier's spirit is banished here, and it is said to escape during storms.
Image Prompt & Upload
A desolate, abandoned stone quarry with towering, jagged rock faces of dark grey slate or rough-hewn local stone. Piles of broken rock and scree litter the uneven ground. Sparse, hardy grasses and moss cling to the crevices, and a stagnant, dark pool of water might lie at the deepest point. The scene is cast in deep shadows under a stormy, moonless night sky, emphasizing its isolation and eerie stillness. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
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