There is a room at Muncaster Castle which has long gone by the name of Henry the Sixth’s room, from the circumstance of his having been concealed in it at the time he was flying from his enemies in the year 1461, when Sir John Pennington, the then possessor of Muncaster, gave him a secret reception.  When the time for the king’s departure arrived, before he proceeded on his journey, he addressed Sir John Pennington with many kind and courteous acknowledgments for his loyal reception, regretting, at the same time, that he had nothing of more value to present him with, as a testimony of his goodwill, than the cup out of which he crossed himself.  He then gave it into the hands of Sir John, accompanying the present with these words:  “The family shall prosper so long as they preserve it unbroken.”  Hence it is called the “Luck of Muncaster.”  “The benediction attached to its security,” says Roby, in his “Traditions of Lancashire,” “being then uppermost in the recollection of the family, it was considered essential to the prosperity of the house at the time of the usurpation, that the Luck of Muncaster should be deposited in a safe place; it was consequently buried till the cessation of hostilities had rendered all further care and concealment unnecessary.”  But, unfortunately, the person commissioned to disinter the precious relic, let the box fall in which it was locked up, which so alarmed the then existing members of the family, that they could not muster courage enough to satisfy their apprehensions.  The box, therefore, according to the traditionary story preserved in the family, remained unopened for more than forty years; at the expiration of which period, a Pennington, more courageous than his predecessors, unlocked the casket, and, much to the delight of all, proclaimed the Luck of Muncaster to be uninjured.  It was an auspicious moment, for the doubts as to the cup’s safety were now dispelled, and the promise held good: 

    It shall bless thy bed, it shall bless thy board,
      They shall prosper by this token,
    In Muncaster Castle good luck shall be,
      Till the charmed cup is broken.

Some things, again, have gained a strange notoriety through the force of circumstances.  A curious story is told, for instance, of a certain iron chest in Ireland, the facts relating to which are these:  In the year 1654, Mr. John Bourne, chief trustee of the estate of John Mallet, of Enmore, fell sick at his house at Durley, when his life was pronounced by a physician to be in imminent danger.  Within twenty-four hours, while the doctor and Mrs. Carlisle—­a relative of Mr. Bourne—­were sitting by his bedside, the doctor opened the curtains at the bed-foot to give him air, when suddenly a great iron chest by the window, with three locks—­in which chest were all the writings and title deeds of Mr. Mallet’s estate—­began to open lock by lock.  The lid of the iron chest then lifted itself up, and stood wide open.  It is added that Mr. Bourne, who had not spoken for twenty-four hours, raised himself up in the bed, and looking at the chest, cried out, “You say true, you say true; you are in the right; I will be with you by and bye.”  He then lay down apparently in an exhausted condition, and spoke no more.  The chest lid fell again, and locked itself lock by lock, and within an hour afterwards Mr. Bourne expired.