Essays on subjects connected with the literature, popular superstitions, and history of England in the Middle Ages

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ENGLAND IN THE MIDDLE AGES.

ESSAYS

ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE

LITERATURE, POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS,

HISTORY

CwjlantJ in tfje JHititile &$m.

THOMAS WEIGHT, M.A. F.S.A.

HONORARY MEMBER OF THE ROVAL SOCIETY OF LITERATURE, ETC.

CORFIESPONDINO MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE
(.ACADEMIE DES INSCRIPTIONS ET BELLES LETTRES.)

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON :
JOHN RUSSELL SMITH,

4, OLD COMPTON STREET, SOHO SQUARE.

MDCCCXLVI.

;d j. adlarp, printers. Bartholomew close.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

ESSAY X.

ON FRIAR RUSH AND THE FROLICSOME ELVES . 1

XI.

OBSERVATIONS ON DUNLOP's HISTORY OF FICTION 38

XII.

ON THE HISTORY AND TRANSMISSION OF POPULAR

STORIES . . . . .51

XIII.

ON THE POETRY OF HISTORY . . .82

XIV.

ADVENTURES OF HEREWARD THE SAXON . . 91

XV.

THE STORY OF EUSTACE THE MONK . . 121

VI CONTENTS.

PAGE

XVI.

THE HISTORY OF FULKE FITZ "WA1UNE . . 147

XVII.

ON THE POPULAR CYCLE OF THE ROBIN HOOD BAL-
LADS . . . . .164

XVIII.

THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS 212

XIX.

ON OLD ENGLISH POLITICAL SONGS . . 250

XX.

ON THE SCOTTISH POET DUNBAR . . .291

ESSAYS

ON THE

LITERATURE, ETC. OF ENGLAND

DURING

THE MIDDLE AGES.

ESSAY X.

ON FRIAR RUSH AND THE FROLICSOME ELVES.

HE character and form of the unpre-
meditated creations of man's imagination
depend as much upon external circum-
stances, and upon impressions from with-
out, as upon the variation of character
in man himself. The ferocity of Scandinavian or Gothic
heroes could admit into their mystic creed no beings but
those which inspired awe and terror, because it was unac-
customed to the quiet enjoyments of peace, to pleasant
meadows or laughing glens ; it contemplated only steel,
and wounds, and blood. The wild hunter, who tracked
his prey over the barren mountains which were as much
his home as that of the beasts he pursued, to whom nature
presented herself in her most gigantic and awful forms,
himself acquainted only with danger, must have a creed
which partook of the character of everything around him
— the supernatural world was to him peopled with fierce

VOL. II. 1

2 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

and malignant demons. Just so the solitary hermit, who
in the earlier ages of western Christianity fixed his abode
in the deserts and the fens, rude and inhospitable tracts,
could conceive them to be peopled by nothing but devils.
But to the peaceful peasant, on whom nature ever smiled
in her most joyous mood, she was peopled by gay and
harmless spirits, who like himself loved to play and laugh —
the beings he feared were restricted to the mountains whose
heads rose in the dim distance, or their visits were confined
within the darkness of night.

Thus, the only beings with whom a Beowulf would claim
acquaintance were those against whom he might signalize
his valour, the nickers who set upon him in the sea amidst
the fury of the tempest, the grendel, the nightly devourer
of royal thanes, and the fire-drake whose vengeance carried
destruction amongst his subjects. The literature which
these remote ages have left us is not of that kind which would
indicate to us the lighter superstitions of our forefathers.
The impressions of fear are deeper and more permanent
than those of mirth, and are more speedily communicated.
The monks, whose greatest error was not that of scepti-
cism, partook in all the superstitions of the vulgar — they
disbelieved none of the fables of paganism, but they looked
upon them in a new light. To them all spirits were either
angels or devils, and as their canons assured them that the
beings of the vulgar creed, which were in fact the remains
of paganism, were not to be admitted into the former class,
they threw them indiscriminately into the latter. The
creed of the monks could naturally admit of no harmless
devils, of none who played for the sake of play alone, and
the pranks and gambols and mischievous tricks of a puck
or a hobgoblin were only so many modes by which the evil

FROLICSOME ELVES. 3

one sought to allure the simple countryman into his power,
to lead him to temptation and sin. But the playful freaks
of Satan were not so often performed before the monks
themselves, and therefore seldom found a place in their
legends. The fears of the peasantry, on the other hand,
were soon imparted to their spiritual teachers, and the
latter were, or believed themselves to be, constantly per-
secuted by the malignity of the demons. It is our impres-
sion, indeed, that the monkish superstitions were entirely
founded upon the older popular superstitions : instead of
fighting against the errors of paganism, they soon fell
themselves into that of supposing that they were engaged
in a more substantial war against the spirits who belonged
to the older creed, and whose interest it would be to sup-
port it. Thus, in their eagerness for the battle, they created
their opponents. As the monks were generally successful
in these encounters, they became bolder, and resolved to
attack the enemy in his stronghold, seeking solitary resi-
dences among the fens and wilds. Hence, perhaps, arose
in some degree the passion for becoming hermits. From
all these circumstances it arises that, in the legends of the
monks, although it is the creed of the peasantry which is
presented to us, yet that creed is there so distorted and so
partially represented as to be with difficulty recognized.

We have thus but little knowledge of the mirthful beings,
the Pucks and Robin Goodfellows, of the peasantry, during
the earlier ages of our history. That the popular mytho-
logy included such beings we have abundant proofs in the
numerous allusions to them at a somewhat later period,
namely, the twelfth century, after which the traces of them
again nearly disappear, until the period when the invention
of printing, and the consequent facility of making books,

4 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

created a literature for the vulgar, and when the stories of
their popular belief which had hitherto been preserved
orally were collected for their diversion. Then we find
that, as in earlier ages separate ballads had been woven
together into epic cycles, so these popular stories were
strung together, and a certain character of reality given to
them in the person of a single hero, a Robin Goodfellow,
a Hudekin, or, as in the curious tract of which we are going
to speak, a Friar Rush. The sudden appearance of these
stories and collections of stories gives rise to problems
relating to their formation, which the want of a sufficient
acquaintance with the stories in their earlier form renders
it sometimes difficult to resolve ; and it is only by an his-
torical comparison of our scanty data that we can arrive
at any satisfactory knowledge of the nature and sources of
the materials of which they are composed.

In this research, we must not reject even the legends of
the monks, for they sometimes illustrate the lighter super-
stitions of our peasantry, as we may easily enough suppose,
because, so long as the monks believed the imaginary
pranks of the hobgoblins to be so many temptations of the
evil one, there was no reason why, though they were gene-
rally subjected to severer trials, he should not at times
practise upon them the same jokes, by way of diversifying
his attacks. When the great Luther could believe a girl

* See Michelet's interesting work, the Mtmoires de Luther, 1836,
torn. 3, p. 170. The alchemists and the rosicrucians even in the se-
venteenth century reproduced the superstitions of the monks and
peasantry of an earlier period. In the MS. Harl. 6482 (17th century),
a most extensive collection of the doctrines of these people, we have
the following account of the hobgoblins. " Of spirits called Hobgoblins
or Robin Goodfellowes. These kinde of spirits are more familiar and

FROLICSOME ELVES. 5

to be possessed by " a jovial spirit,'' * we may easily pardon
the monks if we sometimes find them in their legends
subjected to temptations of the evil one which are very
equivocal in their nature, and in which he shows himself
in a no less equivocal form. Indeed in some of these
temptations it is difficult to say what was the harm intended,
and we can only explain the monkish story by translating
it into the language and creed of the peasantry, and by
introducing Robin Goodfellow upon the stage. As an
example we will take a saint of the twelfth century, because
we have abundant authorities to prove that the frolicsome
elves then held their place in the popular mythology. Every
one must have heard of St. Godric and his solitary her-
mitage at Finchale, near Durham, on the banks of the Wear,
a spot too wild not to be haunted by hosts of hobgoblins.
Generally speaking, though it is certain that they led him a
very uneasy life, Godric seems to have been too strong or
too cunning for his spiritual tormentors. In one instance,
according to a story told in the first volume, (p. 264,)
a goblin appeared to him in the night, and told him that
by digging in a certain place he woidd find a treasure.
Godric was not covetous, but he thought it would be a

domestical than others, and, for some causes to us unknown, abide in
one place more than in another, so that some never almost depart from
some particular houses, as though they were their proper mansions,
making in them sundry noises, rumours, mockeries, gawds, and gests,
without doing any harme at all, and some have heard them play on
gitterns and jews' harps, and ring bells, and make answer to those that
call them, and speak with certain signs, laughters, and merry gestures,
so that those of the house come at last to be so familiar and well
acquainted with them that they fear them not at all." The writer
goes on to say that, though they seem harmless, they would do harm if
they could, and that everybody ought to be on his guard against them.

6 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

more Christianlike act to take the money and distribute it
among the poor, than to let it lie buried in the earth — he
believed the evil one, in spite of the admonitions of his
faith which characterized him as a liar from the beginning,
— but out of the hole which he dug, instead of treasure,
there came a troop of elves, who laughed at the hermit
and fled away. Godric's chief employment was digging in
his garden. One day, while he was at work, came a man
whose stature and appearance were sufficient to create sus-
picion— he reproached Godric with idleness, and the saint,
who was again deceived, gave him his spade, and allowed
him to proceed in his work, while he himself went to his
devotions. On his return, he found to his astonishment
that the stranger in the course of an hour had done the
work of eight days. With the sacred images which were
in his book he put to flight the evil one, and he made the
earth which had been dug do penance by lying fallow for
seven years.*

If we look upon the two foregoing stories as mere saints'
legends, they are out of their place, and appear to us to
have no object — the whole amount of the evil done or
intended by the devil was but a merry frolic ; but when
we look upon them in another light, when we consider
that Godric himself was but a peasant, and that naturally

* The life of Godric is given in Capgrave, Legenda Nova Angl. — but
there exists in MS. a life much longer and very interesting, written by
a person who conversed with the hermit, MS. Harl. No. 2277. The
digging story is found in the MS. at fol. 48, v°., in Capgrave, fol. clx.
v°., Ed. Wynk. de Worde. The treasure legend occurs, at fol. 60, v0.,
in the MS. (Capg. fol. clxiij, v°.) The elves mentioned in the latter
were very small and black, which was their general colour in the
monkish stories. Godric often saw such elves, see the MS. fol. 62.

FROLICSOME ELVES. /

enough he partook in the superstitions of his fellows, we
recognize in the first a treasure legend, one which may be
compared with any of those in Crofton Croker's Irish Tales,
and in the tall gentleman who dug so efficiently there can
be no doubt that we have the laborious elf, the Scottish
Brownie, the Portunus of Gervase of Tilbury ; who, in the
same century, tells us that these spirits, when they found
anything undone in the house they entered at night, fell
to work and finished it in an inconceivably short space of
time (si quid gestandum in domo fuerit, aut onerosi operis
agendum, ad operandum se jungunt, citius humana facilitate
expediunt.) Godric was frequently a witness of the play-
ful rogueries of the demon, as well when performed upon
others as upon himself (MS. Harl. fol. 47, v°.), and on one
occasion the evil one amused himself, and no doubt the
saint also, by dancing before him most ludicrously in the
form of a distended sack (f. 69, v°.)

Another story which is told of Godric is equally pertinent
to our subject. One day in autumn, the saint was gathering
his apples. Suddenly there appeared on the other side of
his hedge a great rough-looking fellow, whose outer garment,
open from his neck to his thighs, resembled green bark,
beneath which he seemed to be clad in a rough bullock's
hide. " Give me some apples, hermit !" shouted the
stranger, and he shouted more than once, for at first
Godric paid little attention to him. At last the hermit,
turning towards him, said that if he would have any he
must ask for them in the name of charity. " I ask for
them in the name of charity, then," was the answer, in a
gruff and rather embarrassed tone. "Take them," said
Godric, "in the name of charity, and give God thanks."
But the stranger threw them down, and, turning about,

8 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

after saluting Godric by certain gestures which were none
of the most becoming, marched slowly away, leaving how-
ever a testimony of his fiendlike nature in the odour which
followed him, at which the poor saint was so horrified
that "every hair of his body stood stiff like the bristles of
a boar." In our note below, we give this curious story as
it stands in the original.* It may, we think, be true, as
it is told by one who conversed with the hermit, but it
must be true just as long afterwards another person took
the keeper of a forest for Robin Goodfellow : such boors
as Godric' s devil were not confined to the twelfth century.
Godric judged of the nature of his visiter by the smell
which he left behind him, but to us the colour of his coat
tells what class of beings the saint was thinking of.

Contemporary with Godric there lived at Farnham, in
Yorkshire, another pious rustic, whose name was Ketel, and
whom we may term the elf-seer. The historian William
of Newbury relates many wonderful anecdotes of him.
While but a lad, Ketel was one day returning from the

* " Cum poma colligeret in auturnpno quidam procerus et circa
humeros plusquani homo distentus, lustrabat sepem, habens exterius
operimeutum quasi de cortice viridi, ab humeris usque ad renes dissu-
tum, interius autem velud corium bovis hirsutum. Qui vociferans,
' Heremita,' dicebat, ' da mihi de pomis.' Ille prius tacuit, sed cum
importunius instaret, conversus ad eum, ' Frustra,' inquid, ' laboras,
nisi pro caritate rogaveris.' Tunc imperfecta verbi prolatione, ' Pro
caritate,' dixit, • postulo.' Ad haec sanctus, poma proferens, ait, ' Ac-
cipe, et Deo gratias age.' Ille oblata respuit, et coepit recedere lento
gressu cum fcetore, posteriora sua ostendens, et verenda nimis longa et
horrida pro se trahens. Ex hoc turpi aspectu itavir sanctus inhorruit,
ut omnes sui corporis pilos tanquam setas porcorum exsurgere et
rigere sentiret. Quanto autem ille temptator longius discedebat, tanto
magis et foetor et turpitudo crescebat. " MS. Harl. fol. 59, v°.

FROLICSOME ELVES. 9

field, riding on the waggon-horse, when suddenly, in a
place perfectly level and smooth, the horse stumbled as
though he had met with an obstacle, and his rider was
thrown to the ground. As he raised himself up, Ketel
beheld two very small black elves, who were laughing most
lustily at the trick they had played upon him. From that
hour was given to him the power of seeing the elves,
wherever they might be and whatever they might be doing,
and he often saved people from their malice. He assured
those who were fortunate enough to gain his confidence,
for he did not tell these things to everybody, that there
were some hobgoblins (dcemones) who were large and strong,
and who were capable of doing much hurt to those who
might fall into their power ; but that others were very small
and contemptible, incapable of doing much harm, and very
stupid and foolish, but which delighted in tormenting and
teasing mankind. He said that he often saw them sitting
by the road-side on the look-out for travellers upon whom to
play their tricks, and laughing in high glee when they could
cause either them or their horses to stumble, particularly
when the rider, irritated against his steed, spurred and beat
him well after the accident. Ketel, as might be supposed,
drew upon himself by his officiousness, and by his power of
seeing them, the hatred of the whole fraternity. A story
equally curious, as showing how the popular legends were
adopted by the monks of other countries as well as of our
own, is that of the elf who in the earlier half of the twelfth
century haunted the cellar of a monastery in the bishopric
of Treves, told by our English chronicler John of Brom-
ton. One morning, when the butler entered the cellar, he
was not a little mortified at finding that during the night
a whole cask of wine had been emptied, and that at least

1§

10 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

the greater part of its contents had been spilt on the floor.
Supposing this accident to have arisen out of the careless-
ness of his 'man, the butler was angry, chid him severely,
and, locking the door of the cellar, took the key into his
own charge. But all his precautions were vain, for the
next morning another cask of wine was in the same con-
dition. The butler, now utterly astonished, repaired in all
speed to the father abbot, and, after due consultation, they
went together to the cellar, where, having sprinkled all the
barrels with holy water, the latter closed firmly the door,
sealed it with the seal of the abbey, and took the key into
his own keeping. Next morning he repaired again to the
cellar, and found the door exactly as he had left it. The
door was speedily opened, and the first object which met
his view was a small black elf (puerulum nigrum mirandse
parvitatis) sticking fast by his hands to one of the vessels on
which the holy water had been thrown. The abbot took
the elf, clothed him in the habit of a monk, and kept him
long in the school of the monastery, where he never grew
any bigger. But one day an abbot from a neighbouring
monastery came to examine the scholars, and, on hearing
the story, counselled his brother abbot to keep no longer
the devil in his house. The moment his monkish robe was
taken from him, the elf vanished. Similar stories run
through the mythology of all the western people ; — we will
only point out the story of the Haunted Cellar in Crofton
Croker's Irish Fairy Legends, with the premisal that we
consider the greater part of those legends as being of Saxon
rather than of Irish origin.

We could easily multiply our examples of fairy stories
inserted among the monkish legends, particularly those of
a less ludicrous nature. Godric and Ketel having been

FROLICSOME ELVES. 11

both rustics, their lives abound more with legends founded
upon those of the peasantry than the life of any other
saint, and they thus show us more distinctly the connexion
between the superstitions of the two classes. We have
at the same time a few independent allusions (or nearly
independent, inasmuch as though related by monks they
are given as popular legends) to these stories in their
original form. We will give two examples of such allu-
sions, which are quoted by the Grimms in the introduction
to the Irische Elfenmarchen. The first is of the ninth
century, and is told by the monk of San Gallen, whose
work is printed in the fifth volume of Dom Bouquet. It
is a story of the laborious playful goblin (daemon qui dici-
tur larva, cui curse est ludicris hominum illusionibus vacare),
and the latter part of it may be compared with the fore-
going story of the elf who haunted the abbot's cellar. Our
goblin frequented the forge of a smith, where he played
all night with the anvil and hammers, to the no small
annoyance of their proprietor, who resolved to drive him
away by the signing of the cross. But the elf had formed
an attachment to the place, and was not willing to go :
" Gossip," said he to the smith, " let me play in thy forge,
and if thou wilt place here thy pitcher thou shalt find it
every day full of wine." The terms were readily accepted,
and every night the elf repaired to the cellar of the bishop,
filled his pitcher with wine, and, clumsily enough, left the
cask open so that all the rest of the wine ran out upon
the floor. The bishop soon perceived what was going on
in his cellar, and supposing that the mischief must be the
work of some spiritual adversary, he sprinkled the cellar
with holy water, and fortified it with the sign of the cross.
The night following the elf entered as usual with his pitcher,

12 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

but he could neither touch the wine nor escape from the
place, and in the morning they took him and bound him
to a stake, where he was condemned to undergo the punish-
ment due to a thief. Amidst his stripes he never ceased
to cry, "Alas! alas! I have lost my gossip's pitcher!"
Our other extract is from a very old penitential which is
preserved in a manuscript at Vienna ; it alludes evidently to
the same class of stories, and to a practice which had arisen
out of them, and points out the necessary penitence for
those who " had thrown little bows and small shoes into
their cellars and barns, in order that the hobgoblins might
come thither to play with them, and might in return bring
them other people's goods."

From some cause or other, with which we are not well
acquainted, our chronicles of the twelfth century are full of
fairy legends. The Cambrian Giraldus, Gervase of Tilbury,
William of Newbury, and several others, give us so much
curious information on the popular mythology of their time,
that we can, without much difficulty, sketch the outlines of
the vulgar creed. We are there made acquainted with the
mischievous elf in all his different shapes, and Gervase even
is doubtful whether, on account of the harmlessness of his
jokes, he ought to call him a demon or not — " Ecce enim
Anglia dsemones quosdam habet, daemones, inquam, nescio
dixerim an secretas et ignotae generationis effigies."

The familiar goblin of Gervase of Tilbury, like the fir-
darrig of the Irish, and Milton's 'lubber fiend,' loved to
seat himself before the remains of the fire after the family
had retired to their slumbers ; he then appeared as a very
little man, with an aged countenance, his face all covered
with wrinkles. He was very harmless, and his great cha-
racteristic was simplicity, in which he resembled the rustics,

FROLICSOME ELVES. 13

whose houses he commonly frequented. One of his names,
indeed, (folletus, Gerv. T., the modern French follet, which
is a diminutive of the old French fols, fou,) signifies the
little madcap, and may refer both to his simplicity and to
his pranks. The follets of Gervase haunted generally the
houses of country-people, whence neither holy water nor
exorcism could expel them. They were invisible, and
made known their arrival by throwing about stones, and
wood, and even the pots and kettles. They also talked
with great freedom. Giraldus tells us many stories of the
domestic and playful elves of his native county of Pem-
broke, where they were very common, and plagued people
by throwing dirt at them, and by cutting and tearing their
garments. They took great delight also in telling people's
secrets, and they paid no heed to the priests or their con-
jurations. Sometimes they entered into people, who thus
became possessed, and they there continued their tricks
and their conversation. An elf of this kind, in human
form, entered the house of one Elidore Stakepole,* in that
county, where he hired himself as a servant, and proved
himself extremely faithful and diligent. As in every in-
stance where an elf, whether puck, or brownie, or troll,
has formed an attachment to a place, he has brought good
luck along with him, so the family of Elidore Stakepole
prospered exceedingly — everything went well with them.
But Elidore, like many another in his situation, ruined
himself by his curiosity. The elf was accustomed, during
the night, to resort to the river, which shows his con-
nexion with the whole family of the Teutonic alfen. One
night he was watched, and the next day he quitted for ever
the house of Elidore Stakepole, after telling the family
* See before, vol. i, p. 269.

14 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

who he was, and how he had been begotten by an incubus
on a woman of the parish.

Before leaving the familiar elf of the twelfth century, we
will present to our readers an inedited legend from a work
of the beginning of the next century, the manuscript chro-
nicle of Ralph of Coggeshale, which is particularly curious,
from its singular resemblance to the more modern story of
the German Hinzelmann. During the reign of the first
Richard, there appeared frequently, and for a long space of
time, in the house of Sir Osbern de Bradwell, at Dagworth
in Suffolk, " a certain fantastical spirit," who conversed
with the family of the aforesaid knight, always imitating the
voice of an infant. He called himself Malkin ; and he said
that his mother and brother dwelt in a neighbouring house,
and that they often chided him because he had left them and
had presumed to hold converse with mankind. The things
which he did and said were both wonderful and very laugh-
able, and he often told people's secrets. At first the family
of the knight were extremely terrified, but by degrees they
became used to him, and conversed familiarly with him.
With the family he spoke English ; and that, too, in the
dialect of the place ; but he was by no means deficient in
learning ; for, when the chaplain made his appearance, he
talked in Latin with perfect ease, and discoursed with him
upon the Scriptures. He made himself heard and felt too,
readily enough, but he was never seen but once. It seems
that he was most attached to one of the female part of the
family, a fair maiden, who had long prayed him to show
himself to her ; at last, after she had promised faithfully
not to touch him, he granted her request, and there ap-
peared to her a small infant, clad in a white frock. He
also said that he was born at Lavenham ; that his mother

FROLICSOME ELVES. 15

left him for a short time in a field where she was gleaning ;
that he had been thence suddenly carried away, and had
been in his present condition seven years ; and that after
another seven years he should be restored to his former
state. He said that he and his companions had each a
cap, by means of which they were rendered invisible. This
is the German tarn-kappe. He often asked for food and
drink, which, when placed on a certain chest, immediately
disappeared. The writer, from whom this story is quoted,
asserts that he had it from the chaplain who figures in it.*

* " De quodam fantastico spiritu. — Tempore regis Ricardi, apud
Daghewurthe in Suthfolke, iu dornum domini Osberni de Bradewelle,
quidam fantasticus spiritus multociens et multo tempore apparuit,
loquens cum familia prsedicti militis, vocem infantis unius anni in sono
imitatus, ac se Malekin vocitabat. Matrem vero suam cum fratre in
domo vicina manere asserebat, et se frequenter ab eisdem objurgari
dicebat, eo quod ab eis discedens cum hominibus loqui przesunieret.
Mira et risui digna et agebat et loquebatur, et aliquoties aliorum oc-
cultos actus retegens. Ex colloquiis ejus primo uxor militis et tota
famibia valde territa est, sed postmodum ejus verbis et ridiculosis acti-
bus assuefacti, confidenter ac familiariter cum eo loquebantur, plurima
ab eo inquirentes. Loquebatur autem Anglice secundum idioma regionis
illius, interdum etiam Latine, et de Scripturis sermocinabatur cum
capellano ejusdem militis, sicut ipse nobis veraciter protestatus est.
Audiri et sentiri potuit, sed minime videri, nisi semel a quadam puella
de thalamo visa est in specie parvissimi infantis, qui induebatur quadam
alba tunica, nimium prius a puella rogata et adjurata ut se visibilem
ei exhiberet, quo nullo modo ejus petitioni consentire voluit, donee
puella per Deum juraret, quod earn nee tangeret nee teneret. Con-
fessa est quoque quod nata erat apud Lauaham, et dum mater ejus
secum earn deferret in campum ubi cum aliis messuit, et solam earn
relinqueret in parte agri, a quadam ala rapta est et transposita, et jam
.vij. annis cum eadem manserat, et dicebat quod prout abos .vij. annos
reverteretur ad pristinam hominum cobabitationem. Capello quo-

16 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

Another story has been pointed out to us in a manu-
script of the thirteenth century, preserved in the Bodleian
library at Oxford, which at once introduces Robin Good-
fellow both in name and action. It occurs amongst a col-
lection^ short stories, moralized after the manner of the
time, and, as a specimen of the whole, we give both the
tale and its moral. w Once Robinet was in a certain house
in which certain soldiers were resting for the night, and,
after having made a great clamour during the better part
of the night, to their no small annoyance, he was suddenly
quiet. Then said the soldiers to each other, ' Let us now
sleep, for Robinet himself is asleep.' To which Robinet
made reply, ' I am not asleep, but am resting me, in order
to shout the louder after.' And the soldiers said, ' It seems,
then, that we shall have no sleep to night.' So sinners
sometimes abstain for a while from their wicked ways, in
order that they may sin the more vigorously afterwards
.... The soldiers are the angels about Christ's body, Robin
is the devil or the sinner," &c*

This last story, if it be of the thirteenth century, is

dam se et alios uti dicebat, qui se invisibiles reddebat. Cibaria et
potus ab assistentibus multociens exigebat, quae super quandam archam
reposita, amplius non inveniebantur." — MS. Cotton. Vespas. D. X.
fol. 89, v°. The confusion of genders makes the latter part rather
obscure.

* " Nota de Robinet o qui fuit in quadam domo in qua milites quidam
quadam nocte hospitati sunt, et cum media nocte multum clamasset, et
milites valde inquietasset et a sompno impedisset, tandem clamore
fassus quievit. Et dixerunt milites ad invicem, ' Dormiamus modo,
quia modo dormit Robinetus.' Quibus Robinetus respondit, ' Non
dormio, sed quiesco, ut melius postea clamem.' Et dixerunt milites,

' Ergo non dormiemus hac nocte' Milites sunt angeli Robinns

diabolus vel peccator." — MS. Digby, Auct. C. 10.

FROLICSOME ELVES. 17

an almost solitary allusion to the pranks of the familiar
elf in England for a long period after the century preced-
ing. During the latter part of the twelfth century, and
the whole of the thirteenth, a great struggle and a vast
revolution of feelings and notions were going forward in
our island. With the change came in gradually a new
and more refined literature ; the saints' legends were
thrown aside to make way for the romances; and the
gross and mischievous elves lost their reputation before
that of the more airy and genteel race who were denomi-
nated by the newly-introduced name of fairies. It is worthy
indeed of remark, that the manuscripts of the lives and
miracles of the English saints are by far the best and the
most numerous during the twelfth and the earlier half of
the thirteenth centuries. We must therefore pass over the
centuries which follow, and come immediately to the period
of the formation of those histories, of which we shall at
present consider the adventures of Friar Rush to be the
representative, the more so as his was a story popular
throughout the whole of Teutonic Europe.

Ferdinand Wolf, of Vienna, a scholar well known for his
interesting labours in the medieval literature of France and
Germany, published a few years ago a German poetical
history of Friar Rush, of the earlier part of the sixteenth
century, which is the earliest version of the story of which
we have any knowledge ; and, as might perhaps be ex-
pected, is the simplest in its details. Its hero is intro-
duced to us as a bona fide devil ; but there are too many
traits in his actions and character to allow us to be mis-
taken in identifying him with the elves of whom we have
been speaking. There was once, as the legend tells us, a
fair abbey —

18 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

" In distant land, beside a wood,
Well known to fame, an abbey stood ;
A numerous brotherhood within ;
But ill did abbey discipline
Sort with the joyous warmth of youth,
And oftener dwelt their thoughts, in sooth,
On gentle damsel's charms and beauty,
Than on thfcir gospels or their duty."

We give the passage thus loosely paraphrased as a speci-
men of the style of the old German poem —

" Ain kloster vor eim walde lag,

Dar in man vil der wunder pflag.
Do waren munch ein michel theil,

Sie waren iung vnd dar zuo geil,
Vnd schwartze kutten truogen sie dar ;

Sie dienten gott gar wenig zwar.
Ein yetlicher wolt haben ein eigen weib ;

Des ward vnder ynen maucher streyt."

The German legend places the abbey in Denmark —

" In Denmarck bey Helsinghore genant,
Do ym das kloster was wol bekannt :"

The Danish poem, on the contrary, fixes it in Germany,
in ' Saxon-land;' and the English, leaving the question
entirely unresolved, tells us simply that it was * beyond
the sea/ Be this as it may, our worthy friend, Friar
Rush, saw that there was a noble occasion of doing mis-
chief, and he repaired to the abbey in the garb of a youth
who sought employment. He was well received by the
abbot, and appointed to serve in the kitchen. But he
soon made it manifest that he was fitted for higher and
more confidential service. Before night he performed the
part of a skilful envoy, and procured for the father abbot

FROLICSOME ELVES. 19

the company of the dame whom he had long desired. The
fame of Rush was soon spread amongst the community,
and every brother of the abbey was fitted with a bedfellow
after his liking. Time passed on, and Rush made con-
tinual advances in favour, when a sudden quarrel arose
between him and the ' master cook/ who seconded his
orders by rude strokes of a staff which lay ready at hand.
Rush was enraged, seized the cook, and threw him into a
pot which was boiling on the fire, where he was scalded to
death. The abbot and the friars, hearing that an accident
had happened to their cook, unanimously chose Rush into
his place, who in his new office gained daily an increase
of their good graces by the excellent dishes which he pre-
pared for them, particularly on fast-days. For seven years
did Rush serve in the abbey kitchen, and in the eighth, he
was called before the abbot, and was made a friar in reward
for his services.

One day the friars found brother Rush sitting in the
gateway cutting wooden staves, and they asked him what
he was doing, and he told them that he was making
them weapons, with which, in case of danger, they might
defend their abbey. And about the same time there arose
great dissension between the abbot and the prior, and
between the monks, and all for the sake of a woman ;
and each party went secretly to Friar Rush and provided
themselves with stout 3taves. The same night at matins,
there was a great fray ; the abbot struck the prior, and the
prior struck the abbot again, and every monk drew forth
his staff, and there were given plenty of hard blows.
Rush, to increase the confusion, blew out the lights, so
that none knew his friend from his foe ; and then, seiz-
ing the great bench, he threw it amidst the combatants,

20 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

whereby not a few had broken bones, so that they all lay
together in the chapel in a most dismal state. When the
fray was ended, Rush came with a light, pretended to feel
great concern for what had happened, aided them to rise,
and counselled them to seek repose in their beds.

The devils of the legends, like the elves whose place
they had usurped, were very simple, and were often
cheated or disconcerted by a trifle. So it happened in
the end with Friar Rush. One day, when he was return-
ing late to his cloister, reflecting that there was nothing
in the kitchen for dinner, he tore in two pieces a cow
which was grazing in the fields where he passed, and
carried the one half home with him to the abbey. Next
day the owner was dismayed at finding but the half of his
cow. As night drew on suddenly while he was still in the
fields, he took shelter in a hollow tree. Now it so hap-
pened that this identical night had been appointed by
Lucifer, the prince of the devils, to meet his emissaries on
earth, and to hear from them an account of their proceed-
ings : and they came flocking like so many birds to the
very tree in which the countryman had concealed himself.
Without perceiving that they were overlooked and over-
heard, they began each to give an account of himself, until
it came at last to the turn of Rush, who told how he had
been admitted as cook in the abbey, how he had set the
monks by the ears, and had given them staves wherewith
to break each other's heads — all of which they had done to
his entire satisfaction — and how he hoped in the end to
make them kill one another, and so bring them all to hell.
Next morning the countryman left his hiding-place, re-
paired straight to the abbot, and gave him a faithful ac-
count of all that he had seen and heard. The abbot called

FROLICSOME ELVES. 21

Rush before him, conjured him into the form of a horse,
drove him from the place, and forbade him ever to return
thither.

Rush, driven away in spite of himself by the ban of the
abbot, hied over the sea to England, where he entered the
body of the king's daughter, and caused her many a day
of torment. The king, her father, sent to Paris for the
most skilful " masters," who at last forced Rush to tell his
name, and to confess that none had power to dispossess
him except the abbot of " Kloster Esron," for such was
the name of the abbey where he had dwelt. The abbot
came, called Rush out of the maiden, forced him into his
former shape of a horse, which he condemned him hence-
forth to retain, and made him carry over the sea to Den-
mark himself and the reward which the king of England
had given him.

Such is the outline of the German legend of Friar Rush.
The fundamental legend was perhaps a Latin monkish
story, now unknown, which took its birth in Denmark,
and which was soon spread orally among the people, thus
taking a more popular form — at a later period the original
story, the popular form which it had thus taken, and the
well-known legend of St. Zeno, had all been combined
together in forming a larger poem, still confined to Den-
mark, and it is probable that, either orally or in writing,
it was thence carried into Germany. The proposition,
however, as thus put, gives rise to one or two questions,
that may at least be stated, if not discussed. First, are we
authorized to infer, from the circumstances of the locality
of Friar Rush's abbey being placed by the German poem
in Denmark, and of the existence of the legend itself in
that country, that that legend was originally Danish ?

22 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

After a fair consideration of the question, it appears to us
that the probability at least is for this opinion, which is
that held by the learned editor of the German poem. But
we are inclined also to think that, during the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries, and perhaps later, it was very com-
mon, when people would tell a legend supposed to have
happened in another land, to place its locality in Denmark ;
we have thus in Giraldus the story of a household spirit
who served a bishop in Denmark (perhaps the oldest form
of the story of Hudekin) ; we have several stories among
our saints' legends the scene of which is Denmark. Had
the name of Denmark been thus accidentally introduced, the
story might have been adventitious to that country, and
yet might at a later period have localized itself there.

Laying aside, however, the question of locality, there
arises another of much greater importance to the history of
the legend — did the character of Friar Rush exist among
the people independently of the legend which is now inse-
parable from his name ? Or, in other words, was Friar Rush
a genera] or a particular name in the popular mythology ?
The preface of the work just quoted furnishes us with a
passage which we think sets aside all doubt on this ques-
tion, because it alludes to a tale that with little variation
occurs constantly in the popular mythology ; — we mean
the " mira historia" which Pontoppidan relates on the faith
of Resenius, — how a nobleman in Denmark one day
threatened jokingly his children that Friar Rush should
come and take them, and, how the friar was instantly pre-
sent, and by force invisible held the nobleman's carriage
fast to the spot. We are inclined to think that at an early
period there came into the popular mythology of our west-
ern lands a personage in the character of a monk or friar.

FROLICSOME ELVES. 23

In Germany the monk was sometimes Riibezahl, and the
story which we quote for our authority affords us another
instance how the writers on witchcraft and spirits in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, like the monks who
preceded them, confounded elves with devils, which na-
turally arose from their belief in the existence of the former,
and their own peculiar sentiments with regard to the
latter.* In the popular superstitions of England there
certainly existed such a friar, who was not less mischievous
than Brother Rush. Everybody knows the "friar's lan-
tern" in Milton which led people astray from their path.
Harsnet alludes to the practice of laying a bowl of cream to
propitiate " Robin Goodfellow, the Friar, and Sisse (i. e.
Cicely), the dairy-maid," in which three personages we
suspect that we see three others, the Robin Hood, Friar
Tuck, and maid Marian of the old popular morrice-dance.
Denmark, therefore, and Germany also, may have had their
Friar Rush, and we suspect that sueh a personage under
the same name was well known to our English peasantry,
for, the first time we meet with him in England, which is
early in the latter half of the sixteenth century, he is by no
means introduced as a foreigner. We are inclined there-
fore to think that the sojourn of Rush in the abbey was

* " Ferunt in montanis Bobemiae non raro apparere monachum,
quem nominant Rubezal, et perssepe in thermis conspicuum, iter per
montanas sylvas facturis sese adjungere, eosque bono animo esse
jubere, se enim ignaros itineris recto tramite per sylvam deducturum,
quos simul ac in nemore in avia deduxerit, ut quo se vertant prorsus
nesciant, eum protinus in arborem subsilire, tantumque cacbinnum
tollere, ut vastum inde nemus resonet. Monachus iste vel Rubezal est
Satanus ipse, qui assumpta monacbi specie istas nugas agit." — Magica
de Spectris, Lugd. Bat. 1656, p. 79. (Collected by Grosius.)

24 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

originally a legend of Friar Rush, and not the legend of
Friar Rush, but that this particular legend became so popu-
lar that it either absorbed or eclipsed all the others, so as
by degrees to leave its hero identified only -with itself. The
groundwork was a simple story of the visit of the mischievous
elf to a monastery, a legend common enough if we may
judge by the German stories in Wierus.

A legend, like a ball of snow, is enlarged by rolling, and
so soon as Friar Rush became the acknowledged hero of a
history, that history increased rapidly in its passage from
one hand to another. In the old version, which was pub-
lished in England, we have many circumstances that are
not found in the German, and these additions show us very
distinctly in what light those from whom they came must
have looked upon the personage of the friar. The English
story of Friar Rush is in prose. During his stay in the
abbey, after the battle of the staves, Rush continues here
his tricks upon the abbot and monks, at one time covering
the abbot's waggon with tar when he was told to grease it,
at another drinking wine at the abbot's expense, and saying
that he had given it to the horses, and lastly breaking down
the stairs of the dormitory, so that when the monks at
night would descend to their matins, they all fall down and
break their bones. Such stories also have been told of
Robin Goodfellow. After having been driven from the
monastery, Friar Rush enters into service, and becomes on
the whole a very honest and harmless fellow, still retaining
one characteristic of the old industrious elf, that of doing
much work in a short space of time. He hires himself to
a countryman, whose wife is a terrible scold, and will not
permit her husband to keep a servant, in order that he may
be obliged to go to the fields, and thus give her an oppor-

FROLICSOME ELVES. 25

tunity of receiving the visits of her paramour, the priest.
Rush becomes very jealous of the interests of his master.
At supper, the first day, —

" As they sate at meate, Rush demanded of his master
what he should doe the next day ? His master answered,
thou must rise early and goe to the field, and make an end
of that which I was about this day, (which was a great
dayes worke) ; so when they had supt they went to bed.
Early in the morning Rush arose and went to the field,
and wrought so lustily, that he had done his work betimes ;
for when his master came to bring him his breakfast, all
his worke was finished, whereat his master had great mar-
vaile ; then they sate downe to breakfast, which being
ended they went home, and did such things as were there
to bee done ; when his dame sawe that he had so soone
ended his business, she thought that he was a profitable
servant, and said little, but left him alone. In the even-
ing Rush demanded of his master what hee should doe
the next morrow ? His master appointed him twice so much
as hee did the day before, which Rush refused not, but got
up earely in the morning, and went to the field, and about
his worke ; so soone as his master was ready, he tooke his
man's breakfast and came to the field, thinking to helpe
Rush; (but he was no sooner come from his house but the
priest came to see his wife, and presently she made ready
some good meate for them to be merry withall, and whyle
it was a dressing, they sate sporting together, — who had
beene there should have seene many loving touches.) And
when the goodman came to the field, he found that Rush
had done all that which he appointed, whereof he had great
marvaile ; then they sate downe to breakfast, and as they
sate together, Rush beheld his master's shoone, and per-

VOL. II. 2

26 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

ceived that for fault of greasing they were very hard : then
said Rush to his master, why are not your shoes better
greased, I marvaile that you can goe in them, they be so
hard 1 Have you no more at home ? Yes, said his master, I
have another payre lying under a great chest at home in
my chamber. Then said Rush, I will goe home and grease
them that you may put them on to-morrow ; and so he
walked homeward merrily and sung by the way. And
when he approached neare the house he sang out very loude ;
with that his dame looked out at the window, and per-
ceived that it was her servant : shee said unto the priest,
alas, what shall we doe ? Our servant his come home, and
my husband will not be long after. And with that she thrust
the meate into the oven, and all that was upon the table.
Where shall I hyde me, said the priest ? Goe into the
chamber, and creepe under the great chest, among the olde
shoone, and I shall cover you, and so he did. And when
Rush was come into the house, his dame asked him why he
came home so soone. Rush answered and said, I have
done all my busines, and master commanded me to come
home and grease his shoone. Then he went into the cham-
ber and looked under the chest, and there hee found the
priest, and tookehim by the heeles and drew him out, and
said, thou whoreson priest, what doost thou here ? With
that the priest held up his hands and cryed him mercy, and
desired him to save his honesty, and hee would never more
come there ; and so Rush let him goe for that once."

We give the foregoing extract as a specimen of the style
of the English Friar Rush. The priest broke his word,
returned, and was again surprized by Rush, who found him
hidden under the straw in the stable. A second time he was
permitted to escape, though not till after he had received

FROLICSOME ELVES. 27

" three or foure good dry stripes," and had promised so-
lemnly never to return. Yet the priest ventured to break
his word again, and in a visit to the farmer's wife their
merriment was a third time interrupted by the well-known
song of Rush, who was returning from his labours.

" Then wringing her hands she said unto the priest, goe
hyde you, or else you be but dead. Where shall I hyde
me, said the priest ? Goe up into the chamber and leape
into the basket that hangeth out of the window, and I shall
call you when he is gone againe. Then anon in came
Rush, and she asked him why he came home so soone.
Then said Rush, I have done all my busines in the field, and
my master hath sent me home to wash your cheese-basket,
for it is full ofhaires, and so he went into the chamber, and
with his knife he cut the rope that the basket hung by, and
downe fell priest and all into a great poole of water that
was under the window : then went he into the stable for a
horse and rode into the poole and tooke the rope that hung
at the basket, and tying it to the horses tayle, rode
through the poole three or four tymes. Then he rode
through the towne to cause the people to wonder at him,
and so came home againe. And all this while he made as
though he had knowne nothing, but looking behinde him,
espyed the priest. Then he alighted downe, and said unto
him, thou shalt never more escape me, thy life his lost.
With that the priest held up his hands and said, heere is a
hundred peeces of gold, take them and let me goe. So
Rush tooke the golde and let the priest goe. And when his
master came home, he gave him the halfe of his money,
and bade him farewell, for he would goe see the world."

After leaving the farmer, Rush went into the service of a
gentleman whose daughter was possessed, and persuaded

28 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

him to send for the abbot of the monastery where he had
resided, who cured the maiden, conjured Rush into his own
likeness of a horse, made him carry him home as well as a
quantity of lead which the gentleman had given him, and
then confined him to "an olde castle that stood farre
within the forrest," and the story ends with the pious ex-
clamation, " from which devill and all other devills defend
us, good Lord ! Amen."

We have spoken of the collections of tales, which, at the
end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth
centuries, were formed in England under the title of the
Adventures and Pranks of Robin Goodfellow, as closely
resembling in their shape and character the legend of Friar
Rush, and as thus affording a new proof of the identity of
those two personages of the popular mythology. Few of
these collections have been preserved, but we have good
reason for believing that at one time they were extremely
popular. There is in the library of the lord Francis
Egerton, a unique prose tract, in black letter, of the date
1628, entitled Robin-Goodfellow his mad Pranks and
merry Jests, which has been reprinted by Mr Collier.
Before leaving the subject, we will give an analysis of a
small tract in ballad verse on the adventures of this hero,
which is supposed to have been printed about the year
1600. Robin Goodfellow, like the familiar elves of the
twelfth century, is represented as the offspring of an in-
cubus ; whilst he was yet a child his tricks were the plague
of the neighbours, whose complaints so grieved his mother,
that at last he ran away to escape punishment, and after
wandering some time hired himself to a tailor, in whose
service he played a joke not unlike that of Rush on the
abbot's waggon.

FROLICSOME ELVES. 29

1 He had a goune which must be made

Even with all haste and speed ;
The maid must have't against next day,

To be her wedding weed.

The taylor he did labour hard

Till twelve a clock at night ;
Betweene him and his servant then

They finished aright

The gowne, but putting on the sleeves :

Quoth he unto his man,
I'll go to bed : whip on the sleeves

As fast as e'er you can.

So Robin straightway takes the gowne,

And hangs it on a pin,
Then takes the sleeves and whips the gowne ;

Till day he nere did lin.

His master rising in the morne,

And seeing what he did,
Began to chide ; quoth Robin then,

I doe as I was bid.

His master thenlhe gowne did take

And to his worke did fall :
By that time he had done the same,

The maid for it did call.

Quoth he to Robin, goe thy wayes

And fetch the remnants hither
That yesterday we left ; said he,

We'll breake our fasts together.

Then Robin hies him up the staires

And brings the remnants downe,
Which he did know his master sav'd

Out of the woman's gowne.

30 FftlAR RUSH AND THE

The taylor he was vext at this,

He meant remnants of meat,
That this good woman, ere she went,

Might there her breakfaste eate."

Robin afterwards runs away, and, falling asleep in a
forest, is there visited by his father, who according to the
fashion of the time is called Oberon, and who makes known
to him his origin and his power of transforming himself to
what shape he will, a power which he delays not to put in
practice, and

" Turnes himselfe into what shape

He thinks upon, or will ;
Sometimes a neighing horse was he,

Sometimes a gruntling hog,
Sometimes a bird, sometimes a crow,

Sometimes a snarling dog."

Straight he hies to a wedding, in the shape of a fiddler,
and there he puts out the candles, frightens the guests,
drinks the posset, and runs away " laughing, hoe ! hoe !
hoe !" But the last story of our tract is the most curious,
with regard to the history of our legends. We have seen
that in the English legend Friar Rush took delight in dis-
concerting and punishing the adulterous priest. In the
same manner the German Hudekin hinders a fair dame
from being faithless to her husband. Precisely a similar
story is told here of Robin Goodfellow. An old man seeks
to seduce his niece, who, it seems, was his ward, and he
hinders her from marrying a young man whom she loves.
In the midst of her distress, Robin makes his appearance.

FROLICSOME ELVES. 31

44 He sends them to be married straight,
And he, in her disguise,
Hies home with all the speed he maj
To blind her unkle's eyes ;

And there he plyes his worke amaine,

Doing more in one hourc,
Such was his skill and workmanship,
Than she can doe in four e.

The old man wonder'd for to see

The worke goe on so fast,
And therewithall more worke doth he

Unto good Robin cast.

Then Robin said to his old man,

Good unkle, if you please
To grant to me but one ten pound,

I'll yield your love-suit ease.

Ten pounds, quoth he, I will give thee,

Sweet niece, with all my heart,
So thou wilt grant to me thy love,

To ease my troubled heart.

Then let me a writing have, quoth he,
From your owne hand with speed, _

That I may marry my sweetheart
"When I have done this deed."

Robin obtains the money and the writing, and immedi-
ately seizes the old man, carries him to the chamber where
are the niece and her husband, and himself quickly eludes
the old fellow's vengeance, and goes to play his pranks
elsewhere.

32 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

" Thus Robin lived a merry life
As any could enjoy,
'Mong country farms he did resort,
And oft would folks annoy ;

But if the maids doe call to him,

He still away will goe
In knavish sort, and to himselfe

He'd laugh out hoe ! hoe ! hoe !

He oft would beg and crave an almes,
But take nought that they'd give ;

In several shapes he'd gull the world,
Thus madly did he live.

Sometimes a cripple he would seeme,
Sometimes a souldier brave :

Sometimes a fox, sometimes a hare ;
Brave pastimes would he have.

Sometimes an owle he'd seem to be,
Sometimes a skipping frog ;

Sometime a kirne, in Irish shape,
To leape ore mire or bog :

Sometimes he'd counterfeit a voyce,
And travellers call astray :

Sometimes a walking fire he'd be,
And lead them from their way.

Some call him Robin-Goodfellow,
Hob-goblin, or Mad Crisp ;

And some againe doe tearme him oft
By name of Will the Wispe :

But call him by what name you list,
I have studied on my pillow,

I think the best name he deserves
Is Robin the Good Fellow."

FROLICSOME ELVES. 33

It would be easy for us to trace the familiar and mis-
chievous elf in England, in a hundred different shapes, up
to the present day. But we have done enough for our
purpose — we have shown the existence of this personage
of the popular mythology from an extremely early period
up to the time of the formation of the adventures of Friar
Rush and Robin Goodfellow ; we have also, we think, ad-
duced sufficient reasons for supposing that the one, as well
as the other, was a general and not a particular name ; or,
to use again a distinction which we have already employed,
that the foundations of these tale-books were legends, but
not the legends of the personages whose names they bear.
There is no stronger distinguishing characteristic of the
different families of people than that afforded by their pop-
ular superstitions, and, were it but on this account, they
are well worthy of our attention. Our language, our man-
ners, our institutions, our political position, through ten
centuries, have been undergoing a continual and important
change ; yet during this long period our popular mythology,
deeply imprinted in the minds of the peasantry, has re-
mained the same, and, where it has not been driven away
by schoolmasters and steam-engines, it still exists unaltered.
It has not only existed during this period, but it has from
time to time stepped forth from its obscurity and exerted a
powerful influence on the world around. First, it was
received or retained unwittingly by the Christian mis-
sionaries and converts, and created in their hands a race
of beings, designated by the name of demons, which never
existed in the pure Christian creed. Afterwards its influ-
ence was felt by philosophy, and it had no little share in
the strange vagaries of alchymy and magic. Next, it
appeared in a more terrible form than all ; singularly

2$

34 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

enough, as our forefathers became more enlightened, the
popular superstitions seized more forcibly than ever upon
their minds ; and the destruction of many thousands of
persons in the space of a few years for the imaginary crime
of witchcraft will bear a permanent and substantial testi-
mony to what superstition can do. The Puritans, who
succeeded the Papists, were by no means less superstitious
than their predecessors — their devils were but a repetition
of those of the monks of earlier times. The popular notion
of devils and their works, as it now exists, decidedly owes
its origin to the old mixture of popular mythology with
Christianity — to it we must attribute the ludicrous charac-
ter which has so often in popular stories been given to the
demons, their stupidity, and their simplicity. To such
devils as these do we owe devil's bridges, and devil's
arrows, and devil's holes, and devil's dykes, and the like,
which are continually met with in the wilder and more
mountainous parts of our island. To these devils, too, we
owe haunted houses and haunted castles — they delight in
throwing about the chairs and the crockery-ware. Such,
also, are the devils who still sometimes make their appear-
ance among the Welsh peasantry, and of whom they tell a
multiplicity of tales.

Of these tales we will give the following as a specimen —
it is one that we have ourselves heard told in the Welsh
marches, — it is the story of Morgan Jones and the devil.
Those who would have another may look into any Welsh
guide for that of the Devil's Bridge in Carmarthenshire.
Doubtless the Devil's Hole in the Peak had a similar
legend connected with it, whose original may also have
had some connection with the elf-story told by Gervase
of Tilbury as having occurred at this spot. But let us

FROLICSOME ELVES. 35

return to our story. Some twenty years ago, when in
retired parts of the country the communication between
one place and another was much slower and less frequent
than it is now, there was a good deal of horse-stealing
carried on in the English counties on the borders of Wales.
Those counties were and are very full of pretty little towns
and villages, in one or another of which there were fairs
for the sale of live stock almost every day of the year, and
it was easy to steal a horse from one parish, and carry it
away and sell it at some one of these fairs, almost before
the rightful owner knew that he had lost it. Well, it so
happened that about this time lived a lazy careless rollick-
ing sort of fellow, by name Morgan Jones, who contrived
to make a living somehow or other, but how it was nobody
well knew, though most people suspected it was not the
most honest livelihood a person might gain. In fact, every
body was sure that Morgan was deeply implicated in horse-
stealing, and many a time had he been brought before the
justice on suspicion, but do what they could nobody could
find sufficient evidence to convict him. People wondered
and talked about it for a long time, until at last they came
to the only natural conclusion, namely, that Morgan Jones
must have dealings with the evil one.

Now it once chanced that Morgan and some of his chosen
cronies were making themselves jolly over sundry pots of
ale and pipes of tobacco, at a round white deal table, in
the clean parlour of a very neat little alehouse, as all village
alehouses are in that part of the country. And they began
to get very happy and comfortable together, and were tell-
ing one another their adventures, till at last one spoke
plainly out, and told Morgan Jones that it was commonly
reported he had to do with the devil.

36 FRIAR RUSH AND THE

" Why yes," answered Morgan, "there's some truth in
that same, sure enough ; I used to meet with him now and
then, but we fell out, and I have not seen him these two
months."

"Aye!" exclaimed each of the party, "how's that,
Morgan?"

" Why, then, be quiet, and I'll tell ye it all." And
thereupon Morgan emptied his pot, and had it filled again,
and took a puff of his pipe, and began his story.

"Well then," says he, "you must know that I had not
seen his honour for a long time, and it was about two
months ago from this that I went one evening along the
brook shooting wild-fowl, and as I was going whistling
along, whom should I spy coming up but the devil him-
self? But you must know he was dressed mighty fine,
like any grand gentleman, though I knew the old one well
by the bit of his tail which hung out at the bottom of his
trousers. Well, he came up, and says he, ' Morgan, how
are ye?' and says I, touching my hat, 'pretty well, your
honour, I thank ye.' And then says he, ' Morgan, what
are ye looking a'ter, and what's that long thing ye're car-
rying with ye?' And says I, 'I'm only walking out by
the brook this fine evening, and carrying my backy-pipe
with me to smoke.' Well, you all know the old fellow is
mighty fond of the backy ; so says he, ' Morgan, let's have
a smoke, and I'll thank ye.' And says I, ' You're mighty
welcome.' So I gave him the gun, and he put the muzzle
in his mouth to smoke, and thinks I, ' I have you now,
old boy,' 'cause you see I wanted to quarrel with him ; so
I pulled the trigger, and off went the gun bang in his
mouth. 'Puff!' says he, when he pulled it out of his
mouth, and he stopped a minute to think about it, and

FROLICSOME ELVES. 37

says he, ' D — d strong backy, Morgan ! ' Then he gave
me the gun, and looked huffed, and walked off, and sure
enough I've never seen him since. And that's the way I
got shut of the old gentleman, my boys !"

Such is the ludicrous story of Morgan Jones, who had
to do with a proper Welsh devil, without doubt.

ESSAY XI.

OBSERVATIONS ON DUNLOP'S HISTORY OF FICTION.

OME years have now passed since Dimlop's
History of Fiction was first published,
during which great advances have been
made in the general knowledge of the
subject on which it treats, and many new
facts have been discovered. Yet it is a valuable book of
reference for general readers, and contains a large mass of
popular information on the romantic writers of ancient
and modern times ; though it is deficient in arrangement, and
it certainly does not give a correct historical view of the
origin and progress of fiction and romance.

Nothing can be more erroneous than the attempt to
trace the origin of romantic literature to one particular
source, be that source either Eastern, or Gothic, or Grecian,
for each of these have formed the ground of different hy-
potheses, which have been supported with equal ingenuity
and perseverance. Every country has possessed, in its
own primeval literature, the first germ of romance, which
has been developed more or less under different circum-
stances, influenced frequently by accidents, and has been
in course of time modified in its form and character, by
intercourse with a foreign literature in a different stage of
development. The earliest class of romance was of a
purely mythic character. Epithets given to the Deity by

DUNLOP'S HISTORY OF FICTION. 39

his worshippers, in the infancy of nations, were afterwards
mistaken for names of different personages ; and the
attributes expressed or implied by them were gradually
transformed into deeds and actions of the individual, and
were, in course of time, combined and confounded with
the dim and gigantic traditions of real events which had
survived through several generations, when memory was
the only means of preserving them. These appear first in
a poetical shape, because poetry was the only form of
literary composition found in the primeval age. It is to
this source that we owe the poetic legends of Troy and
Thebes, and the whole range of Grecian (as well as Teu-
tonic) mythology ; and it is this nature of the origin of
these legends that has left so much room for disputing
whether the legends themselves are historical or purely
mythic. The Eddas, indigenous to the north of Europe,
are of this character. The Anglo-Saxons had as complete
a family of gods as that which figures in the Grecian
mythology : Woden, and his descendants Bed-wiga, and
Hwala, and Hadra, and Heremon, and Heremod, and
Beowa, and Taetwa, and Geata, and Godwulf, and Finn,
and some thirteen more in succession,* were the demigods
or heroes of the fabulous age of our primitive forefathers,
and stand at the head of the Saxon mythic genealogy, to
which the different branches of the Saxon blood-royal
traced its descent ; as the great families of Greece claimed
descent from Theseus, Hercules, &c. Each of the names
on the list was no doubt the subject of a series of romantic

* A curious dissertation on the Anglo-Saxon mythic genealogical
list, by Mr. Kemble, will be found in the second volume of his edition
of Beowulf.

40 DUNLOP 3 HISTORY

adventures, many of which were well known among our
forefathers as late as the twelfth century, though the only
one which has descended to our own time, in anything
approaching to a complete state, is the romance of Beowulf,
the Beowa of the foregoing list. The Saxon Beowulf and
the German Niehelungen Lied belong to the same class of
literary productions as the Iliad and the Grecian cyclic
poets.

We have few remains of the popular literature of the
Anglo-Saxons, but, from different allusions in old writers,
we are led to believe that it was rich in legendary stories.
These were generally of a purely national character, and
have consequently not unfrequently found their way into
chronicles and histories. The legendary story of king
Ina, from the Brief history of the bishoprick of Somersety
printed in one of the earlier publications of the Camden
Society (Mr. Hunter's Ecclesiastical Documents), furnishes
a very good example of Anglo-Saxon fictions :

" Formerly there were two kings reigning in England ;
one beyond the Humber, the other on this side of it. It
happened that the king who reigned on this side the
Humber, the number of his days being completed, went
the way of all flesh. He left no heir behind him ; where-
upon, in the kingdom which he had governed, there arose
a cessation of the administration of justice, and with it
injustice ; so that no room was left either for peace or
equity. The unjust man condemned the just ; the strong
oppressed the weak ; and the more powerful a man was,
the more injurious was he to his neighbour. What more ?
Thus the want of an heir to the kingdom brought a
miserable desolation : which beholding, the bishops and
chief persons of the realm, desirous to obtain a king to

OF FICTION. 41

reign over them, consulted the Lord at London. The
reply they received was, that they should seek out a man
whose name was Ina, and make him king. When the
chief men of the realm heard this, they immediately
despatched many messengers in every direction who should
seek out this person called Ina, and bring him to them :
who, when they had sought him for a long time without
success, a party of them, who had been inquiring in the
western provinces, namely, in Cornwall and Devonshire,
were returning, wearied in spirit, and directing their course
towards London. These men, as they were travelling
through the provinces, and had arrived at a certain town
which is called Somerton, chanced to see there a cer-
tain husbandman with his plough, who, with a loud voice,
was calling out for ' Ina,' that he might come with the
oxen of his father, who was a partner of the husband-
man. The messengers hearing this, inquired of the hus-
bandman what he was calling ; who- replied, that he had
called for Ina, the son of his partner, that he should come
with his father's oxen. As soon as the messengers had
seen Ina, and perceived that he was a handsome youth,
tall and robust, they rejoiced with exceeding joy : * This,'
said they, ( is he of whom we are in search.' When they
expressed their desire to take him with them, they were
not suffered to do so by the father, nor yet by the neigh-
bours, without giving a pledge and security that no harm
should happen to him while he was in their hands. This
being done, they brought him to London, to the chiefs and
nobles of the realm, who, when they saw Ina, a young
man, very handsome, and, as it seemed, very brave, they
made him king, committing to him the kingdom and all
belonging to it ; and he was immediately consecrated by

42 DUNLOP's HISTORY

the bishops. While these things were scarcely concluded,
there came one who told the king, that the king on the
other side the Humber had lately died, leaving an only
daughter his heir, whose name was Adelburgh. When
the king heard this, he sent a royal embassy to Adelburgh,
with proposals of marriage ; and that their two realms
should be united in one monarchy. But Adelburgh, when
she had received the proposal, despised it, and spurned the
thought of marriage with the king, because it was said he
was the son of a husbandman. King Ina, when he re-
ceived this reply, thinking that he should himself have
better success, determined to go in person ; and, pretend-
ing that he was a messenger of the king, came to Adel-
burgh, and repeated the proposals which before had been
made to her. But she, nevertheless, as before, rejected
the proposal, on the ground that the king's father was
a husbandman ; which, when the king heard, thinking
anxiously what he should do, that by some means or other
he might succeed, he determined to remain with her some
days, and even months, in the character of a servant waiting
upon her. Now it happened that Adelburgh appointed
a feast to be held for the chief persons of her realm.
Ina, on the day of the festival, had the office assigned him
by his mistress of placing the dishes on the table at the
banquet. While he was performing this duty, being
dressed in royal apparel, and appearing to far greater
advantage than the other persons who were present, the
lady, again and again admiring him, became exceedingly
enamoured, and ordered a couch to be prepared for him
at night in her own apartments. In a secret interview, at
midnight, Ina again opened his embassy to Adelburgh.
He could not, however, prevail to be heard, until, at

OF FICTION. 43

length, he declared to her who he was, and that he
himself was the king : when she, wondering exceed-
ingly at what had happened, was amazed, and, with
hearty good will, acquiesced in his proposal. This being
settled, the king departed; and being returned into his
own country, sent a splendid embassy to conduct the lady
to him. When she arrived at the town which was then
called Cideston, but now "Wells, they were there solemnly
married. "

Dunlop has erroneously placed at the head of the His-
tory of Fiction the works of the Byzantine novelists, the
Greek scriptores erotici. There is no reason for supposing
that the writings of Longus, and Achilles Tatius, and the
other Greek authors of the same class, exercised any influ-
ence on the romantic literature of the West, until long
after the age of the restoration of learning. Yet, by some
unaccountable accident, one story, which appears to belong
to this class, had found its way to the extreme West at
a very early period ; and it is also singular that the original
Greek form of this story appears to be entirely lost. The
story to which we allude is that of Apollonius of Tyre,
which was extremely popular in the West of Europe during
the middle ages, and formed the plot of the Pericles of
Shakespeare. There exists an Anglo-Saxon version of this
story, apparently of the tenth century, made directly from
a Latin version, which is of very common recurrence in
old manuscripts, and which must therefore be considered
as more ancient than the period just mentioned. The
earliest Greek version of this story, which appears to
be made from a previous Greek text, is of a much more
recent date. *

* Dunlop's account of this romance is an instance of the want of

44 dux lop's history

The mythological, or purely mythic, romances of the
middle ages, were followed by another cycle of fictions,
which may be termed semimythic, as being built on a
general outline of historical events, confused and exagge-
rated by popular legends. Among these stands foremost
the extensive Frankish cycle, founded upon the history of
the Karlovingian race of princes. The gigantic events of
the age of Charles Martel and Charlemagne, the terrible
struggle between Christian and Saracen for the empire of
the West, left a shadow behind them which widened and
widened as the distance became greater, and gave birth to
a host of romantic stories, that were gaining strength un-
observedly, until they suddenly made their appearance, in
the twelfth century, in the national literature of France.
They first took their place in literature, as it appears, in
the fabulous narrative of Charlemagne's expedition into
Spain, published in Latin prose under the name of arch-
bishop Turpin. The first known poem of this class was
composed in the Anglo-Norman tongue, by an Englishman
named Turold or Thorold, who appears to have lived as
far back as the reign of king Stephen ; it has been printed
under the title of the Chanson de Roland. It is a noble
specimen of the romance literature of this early age.
After the publication of this work, the metrical romances
relating to the Karlovingian heroes increased rapidly, and
were known by the general title of Chansons de Geste ;
for they were believed to be purely historical. The ro-

accurate criticism displayed in his work. He first describes the Greek
romance as one of those later Greek imitations composed in the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries, and then speaks of a Latin version as being
" formed as early as the eleventh century," overlooking his own ana-
chronism, and not apparently aware of the earlier Anglo-Saxon version.

OF FICTION. 45

mances of Garin of Lorraine, of Berte, of Wituchind, of
Parise la Duchesse, of Ogier le Danois, and several others,
have been recently printed by the French antiquaries ; but
the number and length of these romances is so extra-
ordinary, that we can never hope to see more than a small
collection in print.*

Some years after the appearance of the work of the
pretended Turpin, another fabulous narrative in Latin
prose was given to the public, which became likewise a
fertile source of metrical romances. This was the Historia
Britonum of Geoffrey of Monmouth, published in 1147, a
work of which the history is involved in the greatest ob-
scurity. It appears, however, to belong to the purely
mythic, rather than to the semimythic, class of romances ;
it was avowedly taken from the traditions of Bretagne, and
the most natural way of explaining its origin seems to be
the supposition that the Bretons had a national mythic
genealogy, like that of the Anglo-Saxons, a subject equally
of popular legends, and that the personages of this gene-
alogy had been taken by Geoffrey of Monmouth and his
followers as historical characters. It would appear that
these legends, under various forms, were floating about as
popular traditions, and soon after Geoffrey's time, the
romances of the St. Graal* of Lancelot, &c, appeared from
the pens of Walter Mapes, Robert de Borron, and others ;
and in a short space of time the romances of Arthur and
his Knights of the Round Table became as numerous and
popular as those of the cycle of Charlemagne. At present
it is difficult for us to analyse the construction of these

* See a former Essay on the Chansons de Geste, in our first
volume.

46 DUNLOP'S HISTORY

romances ; but as far as we can judge, the earlier ones
were implicitly copied from existing traditions, while the
later compositions of the same class owed much to the
mere invention of the writers, who copied and altered the
incidents of older stories, and filled up the outline with new
details of their own. These details had charms for the age
in which they were written ; but although valuable as pic-
tures of medieval society, they are wearisome to us by their
repetition.

During the thirteenth century, the two cycles of Charle-
magne and king Arthur occupied by much the largest
portion of the romantic literature of the day. There were,
however, a few other classes of subjects which shared the
honour of public popularity. In England, an interesting
class had appeared as early as the twelfth century, the
plots of which are generally laid in the Danish wars, from
which circumstance they have been called the Anglo-Danish
cycle, but which appear in reality to be only a reproduction
of the older mythic romances of the Anglo-Saxons. To
this class belong such romances as Havelok, Horn, Guy of
Warwick, Bevis of Hampton, Wade, &c. On the other
hand, the increased study of the classic writers of anti-
quity in the schools of France had brought into fashion the
names of the Grecian and Roman heroes, and a strong
tinge of medieval character was given to their adventures,
in the shape of romances of Troy, of Thebes, of Alexander
the Great, &c. The writers of this latter class of romances
give us strange accounts of the authorities from whom they
derived their materials. Benoit de St. More, the author
of the earliest romance on the siege of Troy (taken from the
supposititious history of Dares Phrygius), tells the following
singular anecdote of Homer :

OF FICTION. 47

" Homers, qui fu clers mervelleus
Et sages et escienteus,
Escrist de la destrucion,
Del grand siege, et de l'acheson
Por coi Troye fut desertee,
Qui ainz puis ne fu abitee.
Mais ne dist pas ses livres voir ;
Car bien savons, sans nul espoir,
Qu'il ne fu pas de c. anz nez
Que li granz oz fu asanblez.
II i faut, sanz somes parfit,
C'onques n'i fu, ne rein n'en vit.
Quant il en ot son livre fet,
Et en Atbenes Tot retret,
Si ot estrange contend-on :
Danpner le vostrent par reison,
Por ce qu'ot fet les dame-dex
Combatre o les homes charnex,
Et les deesses ansement
Feisoit combatre avoec la gent.
Et quant son livre receterent,
Pluisor por ce le refuserent ;
Mes tant fu Homers de grant pris,
Et tant fist puis, si con je truis,
Que ses livres fu receuz
Et en auctorite tenuz."

u Homer, who was a marvellous clerk,
And wise and learned,
Wrote of the destruction,
And of the long siege, and of the reason
For which Troy was deserted,
Which was never afterwards inhabited.
But his book does not tell the truth ;
For we know well, without any doubt,
That he was not born till a hundred years
After the great host was assembled.

48 DUNLOP'S HISTORY

It is quite certain, therefore,

That he was not present, and saw nothing of it.

When he had completed his book,

And had published it in Athens,

There arose a strange contention :

They wanted to condemn it, with reason,

Because he had made the gods

Fight with carnal men,

And the goddesses similarly

He made fight with the people.

And when they recited his book,

Many on that account refused it :

But Homer was in such great esteem,

And he exerted himself so much, as I find,

That his book was received

And held for good authority."

To these subjects of romance were added a few taken
from the holy Scriptures, and some founded on the events
of the crusades and other more recent occurrences.

In giving to his book the title of the History of Fiction,
Dunlop appears to have intentionally avoided the more
general term of romance, and to imply that his plan ex-
cluded such fabulous narratives as were not originally the
inventions of the authors. By this, however, he has been
led into the contradiction of taking up those romances of
chivalry — including the cycles of Charlemagne and the
Round Table — which were either founded upon the mythic
and semimythic romances, or merely new editions or ver-
sions of them. And by making a further arbitrary division
between the prose and metrical romances, and including
the former only in his plan, he has made another historical
mistake; and, taking up the romances of those cycles only
in their more modern prosaic form, he has given, as a part

OF FICTION. 49

of the subdivision of fiction, a large class of writings which
are totally distinct in their origin from the inventions of
the Greek novelists and their imitators, and from the stories
or fabliaux which came from the East, and which ought
to have been considered in their purer and earlier form. It
is true, that the earlier examples of the romances of the
Round Table, those composed by Mapes and Borron, are
in prose ; but this is evidently an accidental circumstance.
The medieval romances in their original shape were poems
— they were called chansons, or songs, notwithstanding
their length (extending sometimes to forty or fifty thou-
sand lines), because they were literally sung by the min-
strel, who, in this respect, represented the bard of a more
primitive age. They were not composed as novels for
the amusement of the closet.

In the twelfth century a new class of fictions makes its
appearance in the literature of the West, evidently of
Oriental origin, — the short tales, or fabliaux. These are
of a gayer character than the romances, and are generally
founded on the incidents and intrigues of domestic life.
They become very numerous in the thirteenth century,
when they seem to have been most popular in England
and France ; but, carried soon into Italy, they there ob-
tained increased popularity through the Decameron of
Boccaccio and his numerous imitators ; and at a later
period, singularly enough, after the original fabliaux seem
to have been nearly forgotten, they received a new popu-
larity in France and England by importation from Italy,,
and became the food of a very numerous class of story-
tellers in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Most
of these, being only servile imitators and copyists, have
long been consigned to the shelves of the mere bibliogra-

VOL. II. 3

50 DUNLOP'S HISTORY OF FICTION.

pher, who prizes them for their rarity ; but they have
still this simple value in the eyes of the historian of medi-
eval fiction, that they preserve here and there a story of
which the original fabliau is lost, and which forms a link
in the general chain in tracing their transmission from the
East. Dunlop's account of the Italian story-tellers, and their
subsequent imitators, is the most useful part of his book.

The foregoing observations show how the groundwork
of medieval fiction must be looked for in the primeval his-
tory of the nations of modern Europe, and how its field
was gradually enlarged by the adoption of Grecian legends
and the admission of Eastern stories. The only direct
attempts at original invention is to be looked for in the
allegorical romances, such 'as the Romance of the Rose, and
those of a purely religious character. But the influence
of the national legends is seen in almost all the medieval
attempts at inventive romance, and was felt in some in-
stances down to a very late period.

After the fifteenth century, the Greek novels, to which
we have already alluded, were printed and read ; and these
appear to have given the first hint of the pastoral romances,
which afterwards enjoyed such a long popularity. We refer
to Dunlop's work for the history of fiction subsequent to
this period. It is the only book of any utility on this
subject in our language, and required a new edition. We
could have wished to see its plan modified, or at least to
see it accompanied with annotations embodying some of
the important discoveries made in this branch of literary
history since its first publication ; or rather, we ought
perhaps to say, that we wish for a new work, more accu-
rate and more complete, on the same subject. But such a
work does not appear at present to be forthcoming.

ESSAY XII.

ON THE HISTORY AND TRANSMISSION OF POPULAR
STORIES.

HE history of popular fictions offers many
subjects for deep reflection. It is in these
rude records of an early state of society,
but more durable than even the written
documents of later history, that we may
trace the primeval affinity of nations now widely separated
by space and diversity of language and manners ; and the
traveller hears, with surprise and joy, the inhabitants of
the distant wilds of India tell the same stories which have
been the delight of his childhood in his own native land
in the West. The national fictions of a people may be
arranged in different classes, which have been transmitted
and preserved in several different ways. Some of them —
such as the mythic romances — are often as ancient as the
tribe to which they belong, and have been in part carried
away as a birthright when it branched off from the primi-
tive stock ; and these prove community of origin with
other tribes in which the same mythic legends are found
to exist. They are features common to the different chil-
dren of one family. Another class of fictions has been
mutually borrowed at some early period, when the different
races who now preserve them have been in a position of

52 POPULAR STORIES.

more intimate intercourse than at any subsequent time.
A remarkable example of this latter class is furnished by
the popular tales which were the favorite entertainment
of our forefathers in the thirteenth and following centuries,
and most of which were derived from the East. They are
convincing monuments of a state of friendly intercourse
between the Christians and Saracens, which is but faintly
indicated in the more prejudiced writings of the monkish
annalists.

Every one who is at all acquainted with the literary his-
tory of the middle ages, is aware that an important part of
the business of the jongleur, or minstrel, was to tell
stories, often of a ludicrous, and not unfrequently of a
very coarse, description. Our literary historians have
fallen into the error of supposing the jongleur to be merely
the descendant of the older bard : he was, on the contrary,
peculiar to the age which followed the crusades, and was
without doubt an importation from the East. His attri-
butes were far more varied than those of the Saxon or
German minstrel. He was alternately a story-teller, a
musician, a mountebank, and a conjuror ; and we find in
his suite even the dancing-girls who are still cherished in
oriental countries. These could have been transmitted
from one people to another only in times of intimate and
friendly intercourse, differing much from what we generally
picture to ourselves as the relations between Christian and
Saracen in the ages of the crusaders. These periods of
peaceful intercommunication were those which are so in-
dignantly denounced by the ecclesiastical historians for
that laxity of manners, which allowed the champions of the
Church to intermix with the infidels, and when the per-
formances of the jongleur and the dancing-girls were

POPULAR STORIES. .>.>

more attractive than the din of arms.* We meet with
incidents, not only in the medieval romances, but in the
drier pages of the chronicler, which show that it was not
uncommon for Saracenic minstrels and jongleurs to follow
their vocation in Christian countries. In the half histo-
rical, half legendary history of Fulke fitz Warine, one of
the outlaws, "who knew enough of tabour, harp, viol,
sitole, and jonglerie" (savoit assez de tabour, harpe, viole,
sitole, e jogelerie), blackens his face and skin, and repairs
to the court of king John in the disguise of a Moorish
minstrel, and he is there welcomed, makes "much min-
strelsy of tabour, and other instruments," and shows by
his sleight-of-hand that he was a bon jogelere. The early
romances furnish other instances of Moorish minstrels, or
persons in that disguise, entertained at the courts of
Christian barons and princes, and conversely of Christian
jongleurs who visited the Saracens. The emperor Fre-
deric II, celebrated for his love of letters, and for his
enmity to the pope, was accused of having, while in Syria,
in 1229, received into his palace Saracen guests, and of
having caused Christian dancing-girls to play before them.f
And, in 1241, when Richard earl of Cornwall visited the
emperor, there were Saracenic dancing- girls and jongleurs

* Ex omni gente Christiana facinorosi, luxuriosi, ebriosi, mimi,
histriones, hoc genus omne in terrain sanctam tanquam in sentinam
quandam confluxerat, eamque obscoenis moribus et actibus inquinabat.
Guillelm. Neubrigens. de rebus Anglicis, lib. hi, c. 15. Compare the
account given by Jac. de Vitriaco, Hist. Orient, cap. 73, p. 74, 83,
who also particularises the jongleurs and minstrels.

f Item in palatio suo Achonensi fecit convivari Saracenos, et fecit
eis habere mulieres Christianas saltatrices, ad ludendum coram eis.
Matth. Paris, vol. ii, p. 361.

54 POPULAR STORIES.

attached to the imperial court, who astonished him with
their performances.* His papal enemies accused Frederic
of keeping these infidel women for the indulgence of his
passions (which they imagined to be a greater sin than in-
continence with females who held the Christian faith) ;
but he defended himself against this charge, on the ground
that they were dancing-girls employed to afford entertain-
ment to his court.

In the thirteenth century, the stories of the jongleur of
Western Europe, put into easy French verse, became nu-
merous under the title of ' fabliaux/ and a considerable
number are still preserved in manuscripts. A very large
portion of these fabliaux, as might be expected, may at once
be traced to oriental prototypes, some of them being nearly
identical with the Eastern originals, whilst others have
been more or less modified in the course of transmission,
to suit the difference in manners and religious creed of the
people who adopted them. A good example of the kind
of modification which they thus underwent, is furnished by
the Arabian story of the Hunchback, which is the sub-
ject of at least two different fabliaux of the thirteenth cen-
tury, and appears subsequently under other forms, both in

* Duse enim puellse Saracenae, corporibus elegantes, super pavimenti
planiciem quatuor globos sphericos pedibus ascendebant, plautis suis
subponentes, una videlicet duos, et alia reliquos duos, et super eosdem
globos hue et illuc plaudentes transmeabant ; et quo eas spiritus ferebat,
volventibus sphaeris ferebantur, brachia ludendo et canendo diversimode
contorquentes, et corpora secundum modulos replicantes, cymbalatin-
nientia vel tabellas in manibus collidentes, et jocose se gerentes et
prodigialiter exagitantes. Et sic mirabile spectaculum intuentibus tarn
ipsse quam alU joculatores praebuerunt. Matth. Paris, vol. ii, p. 569.
This is a curious picture of the performance of the jongleurs.

POPULAR STORIES. 55

French and English. It is not necessary to give more than a
brief outline of the story in the Thousand and One Nights.
The hunchback is regaled at supper by a tailor and his
wife, and is choaked by a fish-bone. Fearing to be accused
of murder, they carry him to a physician, and depart.
The physician running against him in his haste, knocks
the patient down, and, finding him without animation,
supposes that he has been accidentally the cause of his
death. He consults with his wife, and they determine to
convey the body to the court of the house of a neighbour,
who was the steward of the sultan's kitchen ; the steward
comes home in the night, and supposes the intruder to be
a thief, strikes the hunchback with a mallet, and, as he
imagines, kills him. In his distress, he carries the dead
man into the street, and places him upright against a wall
near the market. A Christian broker, in a state of in-
toxication, shortly afterwards passes by, and supposing
the hunchback to be a person concealed there for the
purpose of insulting him, strikes him down, and being
caught in the act of beating the dead body, is at once
accused of the murder.

In the early French versions of the story, a monk occu-
pies the place of the hunchback, and the catastrophe
arises out of an affair of gallantry. The first is entitled,
Du segretain moine. The sacristan attempts to seduce
the wife of a burgher, to whose house he is allured, and
he is there immediately slain by the husband. The latter,
to avoid discovery, carries the body through the postern of
the abbey by which the monk had issued, and places him
on a seat in one of the out-houses. Soon afterwards, the
prior of the abbey comes to the place with a candle, and,
supposing the sacristan to be asleep, attempts to rouse him

56 POPULAR STORIES.

with a blow, and the body falls to the ground. The prior
now finds that he is dead, and it being known that
he had quarrelled with the sacristan the day before, he
fears that he may be accused of murder. In this dilemma,
he recollects that the sacristan had been observed to pay
especial attention to the burgher's wife, and he carries him
back to the door of the house in which he had been mur-
dered. The burgher, hearing a noise at the door, opens
it, and is thrown down by the weight of the body, which
falls upon him. His wife, alarmed by her husband's cries,
hastens to the spot with a light, and they are terrified to
find the corpse returned. By the advice of the lady, the
burgher carries it to the dunghill of a farmer who lived at
some distance from his house, in order to bury it there.
It happened that the farmer had cured a flitch of bacon,
which he had left hanging in his pantry. A thief had
succeeded in carrying it out of the house, and had buried
it in a sack under the surface of the dunghill, intending to
fetch it away in the night. The burgher, finding the
sack, took out the bacon and carried it home, leaving the
body of the corpulent sacristan in its place. Meanwhile,
the thief was gambling with his companions in a tavern,
and they proposed to sup on a portion of the stolen
bacon. The thief hastened to the dunghill, found the
sack, and bore it in triumph to the tavern ;* but when the
maid proceeded to empty it of its contents, the first object
which presented itself was a pair of boots, and they then
found that their booty had undergone a singular trans-
formation. Unable to account for the change, they cle-

* Chascun li crie unlecomme. The use of this latter word (welcome)
proves the fabliau to have been written in England.

POPULAR STORIES. 57

termined to make the farmer bear the consequeuces, and
the clever thief who stole it carried the monk back,
introducedhimself into the house by stealth, and hanged
the body up on the same hook which had held the bacon.
In the morning the farmer awoke before daylight, hungry,
and ill at ease ; and while his wife was making a fire, he
went in the dark to cut a slice of the bacon for their
breakfast ; but, handling it roughly, the beam, being
rotten, gave way, and the weighty mass fell upon him.
A light was now obtained, and they discovered a monk
instead of a flitch, and recognised him for the sacristan of
the neighbouring abbey. It would appear that his repu-
tation was none of the best ; and in order to get rid of
him, they mounted the body on one of the farmer's horses,
in an upright position, and fixed an old rusty spear in his
hand. The horse being let loose, terrified at the shouts of
the farmer and his wife, rushes through the court of the
abbey, overthrowing the sub-prior and others in its way ;
and, finally, rolls exhausted into a neighbouring ditch,
from which it is raised by the monks, who, finding their
sacristan dead, suppose that he had become mad, that he
had stolen the farmer's horse, and that he had been killed
by the fall. The incidents in this story vary much from
that of the Hunchback, although the outline is identical ;
but it is not improbable that other versions of the same
story were once current in the East, and the fabliau may
owe less to the imagination of the Western jongleur, than
at first glance we are led to suppose.

A second fabliau on this subject is entitled, Bu
prestre c'on porte ; and, like the one just described, it is
printed in the collection of Barbazan. A priest, surprised
by the injured husband, is killed, and the guilty wife, with

3§

08 POPULAR STORIES.

the assistance of her maid servant, carries the body out
during the night, and places it against the door of a house
which the priest was in the habit of visiting. The good
man of the house opens the door, and is thrown down by
the fall of the body, which is discovered to be that of the
priest. By the advice of his wife, he carries the body to-
wards the fields to bury it ; but finding a peasant asleep,
with his mare feeding beside him, he places the dead priest
on its back, and returns home. The peasant wakes, and
supposing that some one was stealing his mare, strikes him
down with his staff, and then finds that it is a priest from
the neighbouring monastery. The rustic then places the
corpse upon his mare, with the intention of carrying it to
a distance ; but in his way he falls in with three robbers,
who save themselves by flight, leaving behind them a sack
containing a stolen 'bacon.' This he carries off, after
having placed the body in the sack. The robbers return,
find the sack, which appears not to have been touched,
and carry it to a tavern, and the same incidents occur as in
the former story, until the priest is suspended in the larder
of the person from whom the bacon had been stolen. In
the middle of the night, the chamberlain of a bishop who
had come to visit the abbey (where he was anything but
welcome), comes to the house to seek a supper, and the
host discovers the body of the priest. After the departure
of his guest, he carries the body to the abbey, finds the
door of the prior's chamber open, and places it there
against the wall. The prior coming to his room, and
fearing to be accused of the priest's death, carries him to
the chamber of the bishop, and places him on his bed.
The latter, waking in the night, and feeling a heavy body
on his bed, supposes it to be a dog, and, seizing a club,

POPULAR STORIES. 59

beats it until a light is brought ; and finding the priest
slain, he buries him with due ceremonies the following
day.

In some cases the incidents of the original story have
been so strictly preserved in its transmission from the
East, that it loses much of its point from its want of ac-
cordance with Western feelings. One of the most popular
stories of the middle ages, which appears in a great variety
of forms, is that of an old procuress, who undertook to
persuade a beautiful and chaste wife to consent to the de-
sires of a young man. The old woman has a little dog,
to which she administers mustard with its food, and its
eyes are filled with tears. She then pays a visit to the
matron, who, naturally enough, asks why the dog weeps.
The wicked woman tells her that the dog was her daughter,
who had refused to listen to the prayers of a lover, and
that, as a punishment, she had been changed, by sorcery,
into the animal before her. The lady, believing this story,
rather than incur the same fate, agrees to an appointment
with her amourenx. This story was derived through the
Arabians from India, where it is found in the large collec-
tion of stories entitled Vrikat-Katha. But it is much
more intelligible in the Indian story, which depends on
the Brahrnmic doctrine of the transmigration of souls ; it
was the soul of the woman pretended to have been cruel
to her suitor, which had migrated into the body of the
dog, an unclean animal, which was therefore looked upon
as a grievous punishment. A similar incident is found in
another popular medieval story. A simple countryman
carried a lamb to market, and six rogues agreed together
to cheat him of his merchandise. They took their stations
in the six streets of the town through which he had to

t)0 POPULAR STORIES.

pass, and each accosted him in turn with the question,
" For how much will you sell your dog?" At first the rus-
tic asserts resolutely that it is a lamb ; but, finding so
many persons in succession taking it for a dog, he becomes
terrified, begins to believe that the animal is bewitched,
and gives it up to the last of the six inquirers, in order to
be relieved from his apprehensions. This story, in its
original form, is found in the Indian collection entitled
Pantchatantra ; and we there understand better why the
man abandoned the animal when he was persuaded that
it was a dog, because this in the Brahminic creed is an
unclean animal. Three rogues meet a Brahmin carrying
a goat which he has just bought for sacrifice : one after
another they tell him that it is a dog which he is carrying ;
and, at last, believing that his eyes are fascinated, and fear-
ing to be polluted by the touch of an unclean animal, he
abandons it to the thieves, who carry it away. The same
story is found in several Arabian collections, and from
them, no doubt, it came to the West.

The period at which the transmission of these stories
from the East appears to have been going on most actively
was the twelfth century. Besides the mode of transmission
indicated above, which was the one that acted most largely,
two or three of the more popular Eastern collections passed
through a direct translation. The famous collection, which
in the East went under the title of Sendabad, was trans-
lated into Latin at least early in the thirteenth century,
and became very popular in almost every language of
Western Europe, under the name of the Romance of the
Seven Sages. The no less celebrated collection, entitled
h\ the East Calila and Dimna, was also translated into
Latin in the thirteenth century. Another collection, under

POPULAR STORIES. 61

the title of Disciplina clericalis, was derived from the
Spanish Arabs in the twelfth century, through a converted
Jew named Peter Alfonsi. All these translations tended
to extend the popularity of the Eastern stories in Western
Europe.

This popularity was increased by another circumstance,
which has tended, more than anything else, to preserve a
class of the medieval stories, which were less popular as
fabliaux, down to the present time. In the twelfth cen-
tury there arose in the church a school of theologians, who
discovered in everything a meaning symbolical of the moral
duties of man, or of the deeper mysteries of religion. They
moralised or symbolised in this manner the habits of the
animal creation, the properties of plants, the laws of the
planetary movements, the parts of a building, and the dif-
ferent members of the human body, romances and popular
stories, and even the narratives of historical events. The
stories of which we have been speaking were peculiarly
adapted for this purpose, having been, in their eastern
originals, frequently employed to illustrate moral themes ;
and the medieval divines, in thus adapting them, were only
making a wider application of a mode of teaching, which
had long been rendered familiar by the European fables.*
In fact, this symbolical application began with fables, like

* Sir Frederick Madden, in the introduction to his edition of the
English Gesta Romanorum (printed for the Roxburgh Club), points
out a curious coincidence of a story found in an Arabian writer, with
a morality nearly identical with the morality of the same story in a
Latin collection of stories ; but this by no means proves that the
monkish system of moralizing the stories was derived directly from the
East, which, indeed, is not probable.

62

POPULAR STORIES.

those composed by Odo de Cirington in the twelfth cen-
tury ; and the distinction between these and many of the
stories or fabliaux being not very strongly defined, it soon
extended itself to the rest. In the thirteenth century these
stories with moralizations were already used extensively by
the monks in their sermons, and each preacher made col-
lections in writing for his own private use. An immense
number of manuscripts of this kind, chiefly of the four-
teenth century, are still preserved. Many of the stories are
evidently borrowed from one another ; others appear to
have been taken down from the recitation of the jongleur
or common story-teller, and fitted at once by the writer
with a moralization to serve as occasion might require.
The mass of these stories are of the kind we have described
above, and are evidently of Eastern origin ; but there are
also some which are mere medieval applications of classic
stories and abridged romances, while others are anecdotes
taken from history, and stories founded on the supersti-
tions and manners of the people of Western Europe. Not
only were these private collections of tales with morali-
zations, as we have just observed, very common in the
fourteenth century, but several industrious writers under-
took to compile and publish larger and more carefully
arranged works for the use of preachers, who might not be
so capable of making selections for themselves. Among
these the most remarkable are the Promptuarium Exemplo-
rum, the Summa Predicantium of John Bromyard, the
Repertorium Morale of Peter Berchorius, and some others.
It was at some period of the fourteenth century, that a
writer whose name is unknown, made a collection of these
stories, which he put under the names of different sup-
posed emperors of Rome, who are generally made the chief

POPULAR STORIES. 63

actors in the various plots, This is the work which has
been since so famous under the title of Gesta Romanorvm.

The idea of giving this peculiar form to the stories seems
to have originated in the caprice of the compiler; and
classic ears are somewhat shocked by such names as those
of the emperors Dorotheus, Asniodeus, and Polinius, mixed
indiscriminately with those of Diocletian, and Claudius,
and Vespasian. The date of the compilation of the Gesta
Romanorum appears to be a matter of the greatest doubt ;
the arguments adduced by the editor of the Roxburgh Club
edition of the early English text, to prove their antiquity,
only prove that the stories themselves were popular before
the compilation of this work, which is an incontrovertible
fact. We are inclined to agree with Douce in thinking
that there is no reason whatever for supposing Peter
Berchorius to be the author. But this is a question of
very little importance ; for the Gesta Romanorum, like so
many of the popular productions of the middle ages,
represents the spirit and genius of the time much more
than those of the individual writer.

We think that Douce acted somewhat inconsiderately in
calling the common printed text the original Gesta, to dis-
tinguish it from the edition of the Latin text found in
English manuscripts. It must, we think, strike every
reader, that the printed Latin Gesta is not an original
work, but a mere selection of stories from the Gesta,
intermixed with much extraneous matter, taken from the
classical writers and the medieval historians ; and as no
manuscript has yet been discovered which agrees with
it, it is natural enough to suppose that it was printed from
the selections of an individual, which was, perhaps, made
for the press. It appears to us far from improbable that

6*4 POPULAR STORIES.

the English Latin text is the original one, and, therefore,
that the Gesta Romanorum was compiled in England. It
is quite certain that this is the only one now known which
is consistent and complete. While it is found in numerous
manuscripts in this country, and is in all identical, the
continental manuscripts of the Gesta are of the greatest
rarity, and we have not met with two which agree with
each other, each having the same appearance of being the
capricious compilation of an individual from some com-
mon source. The English Latin text is supposed to have
been compiled about the time of Richard II ; the few
manuscripts of the continental Gesta which we have seen
are all of the fifteenth century. It is worthy of notice, as
supporting our new of this question, that some of the
manuscripts preserved in the German libraries contain
stories which are in the English Latin text, but which are
not found in the text of the printed editions. Professor
Keller's edition is a mere reproduction of the old printed
text ; and we believe as yet nothing beyond the text has
been published, so that we have still to look forwards
with impatience for the opinions and information upon
this curious subject of a man so learned in the history of
medieval fiction.

The Gesta Romanorum is evidently the work of a man
possessed of a considerable degree of creative imagination :
it is possible that a few of the stories are of his own inven-
tion, but it is certain that many of them have undergone
ingenious modifications in passing through his hands.
Some of these stories are taken directly from the Bisciplina
Clericalis of Peter Alphonsi ; as those of the ' Procuress
and her Dog,' mentioned above (cap. 28), the story of the
' Three Fellow-travellers' (cap. 106), and several others.

POPULAR STORIES. 6.5

There are several legends of saints, taken generally from
the work of Jacobus de Voragine ; such as the stories of
'Alexius' (cap. 15), 'Julian' (cap. 18), ' Pope Gregory '
(cap. 81), &c. We have also a few stories taken from
romances and popular fabliaux ; and some from Grecian
fables. The manner in which the latter are adapted to
the ideas of the middle ages is singularly curious. As an
instance we may quote the story of 'Argus' (cap. Ill), in
which Mercury is transformed into a medieval jongleur.

" A certain nobleman had a certain white cow, which he
loved much for two things : first, because it was white ;
and secondly, because it gave abundance of milk. This
nobleman ordained, in his great love for it, that the cow
had two horns of gold : and he considered within himself
in whom he could put trust to guard the cow. Now there
was at that time a certain man named Argus, who was true
in all things and had a hundred eyes. This nobleman sent
a messenger to Argus, that he should come to him without
delay. And when he had come, the nobleman said to
him, ' I entrust my cow with golden horns to thy keeping,
and if thou keepest her well, I will promote thee to great
riches ; but should her horns be stolen, thou shalt die
the death.' And Argus took the cow with the horns, and
led her with him ; and every day he went with her to the
pasture, and kept her diligently, and conducted her home
at night. There was a covetous man named Mercury,
very skilful in the art of music, who desired wonderfully
to have the cow ; and he was always coming to Argus, to
try and get the horns from him for love or money. Argus
fixed in the earth the shepherd's staff he held in his hands,
and addressing it as though it had been his lord, said :
1 Thou art my lord, this night I will come to thy castle.

66 POPULAR STORIES.

Thou sayest to me, ' Where is the cow with the horns ? '
I answer, ' Behold the cow without horns : for a certain
thief came while I was asleep and stole the horns away.'
Thou sayest, ' 0 wretch, hadst thou not a hundred eyes 1
how came it that they all slept, and that the thief stole the
horns ? this is a falsehood.' And so I shall be the child of
death. If I say ' I have sold it,' the danger is the same.'
Then he said to Mercury, ' Go thy way, for thou wilt gain
nothing.' Mercury went away, and the next day he came
with his music and his instrument ; and he began after
the manner of a jongleur to tell tales, and ever and anon
to sing before Argus, until two of Argus's eyes began to
sleep ; and then at his singing two other eyes slept, and
so on, until they were all overcome with slumber. And
when Mercury saw this, he cut off the head of Argus, and
stole the cow with the golden horns."

This story is evidently abridged and modified from a
much longer story, entitled Be Mauro Bubulco, printed
from a manuscript of the thirteenth century in the selec-
tion of Latin stories, published by the Percy Society, which,
perhaps, was taken from an older medieval romance, founded
upon the Grecian story. Another curious instance of the
transformations which the classic legends underwent, is
furnished by the following version of the story of Atalanta
(cap 60.)

" There was a certain king who had an only daughter,
very beautiful and graceful, named Rosimunda. This
damsel, when she had arrived at the tenth year of her
age, was so skilful in running, that she could always reach
the goal before any one could touch her. The king caused
to be proclaimed through his whole kingdom, that whoever
would run with his daughter and should arrive at the goal

POPULAR STORIES. 67

before her, should have her for his wife and be his heir to
the whole kingdom ; but that he who should make the
attempt and fail, should lose his head. When the procla-
mation was made known, an almost infinite number of
people offered themselves to run with her, but they all
failed and lost their heads. There was at that time a cer-
tain poor man in the city named Abibas, who thought
within himself, *' I am poor, and born of base blood ; if I
could by any way overcome this damsel, I should not only
be promoted myself, but also all my kindred.' He pro-
vided himself with three devices : first with a garland
of roses, because it is a thing which damsels wish for;
secondly, with a girdle of silk, which damsels eagerly
desire ; and, in the third place, with a silken bag, and
within the bag a gilt ball, on which was this inscription :
' Who plays with me will never be tired of playing.' These
three things he placed in his bosom ; and went to the
palace and knocked. The porter came, and asked the
cause of his knocking. ' I am prepared,' he said, ' to run
with the damsel.* When she heard this, she opened a
window, and when she had seen him she despised him in
her heart, and said, ' Lo ! what a wretch he is-with whom
thou must run ! ' But she could not contradict him, so
she made herself ready for the race. They both started
together, but the damsel soon ran a great distance before
him. When Abibas saw this, he threw the garland of
roses before her ; and the maiden stooped down, and picked
it up, and placed it on her head. She was so much de-
lighted with the garland, and waited so long, that Abibas
ran before her. When the damsel saw this, she said in
her heart, 'The daughter of my father must never be
coupled with such a ribald as this.' Immediately she

68 POPULAR STOK1ES.

threw the garland into a deep ditch, and ran after him
and overtook him ; and when she overtook him, she struck
him a blow, saying, ' Stop, wretch : it is not fit that the
son of thy father should have me for his wife.' And im-
mediately she ran before him. When Abibas saw this, he
threw the girdle of silk before her ; and when she saw it,
she stooped, and picked it up, and put it round her waist,
and was so much pleased with it, that she loitered there,
and Abibas again ran a long distance before her. When
the damsel saw this she wept bitterly, and tore the girdle
in three, and ran after him and overtook him. And when
she overtook him, she raised her hand and gave him a
blow, saying, ' 0 wretch, thou shalt not have me for thy
wife!' And immediately she ran a long way before him.
When Abibas saw this, he waited till she was near, and
then threw the silken bag before her. And when she saw
this, she stooped and picked it up, and took out the gilt
ball, and found the superscription, and read, ' Who plays
with me shall never be tired of playing.' And she began
to play so much and so long with the ball, that Abibas
arrived first at the goal, and so obtained her for his wife."

Many of these stories, which otherwise we might be
induced to consider as the inventions of the compiler of
the Gesta, are found in earlier collections. The following
(cap. 109) may be quoted as an instance: it inculcates
the doctrine of fatality, which is still prevalent in the
East, and which lingered long over the minds of our fore-
fathers.

"There was a rich smith, who lived in a certain city
near the sea; he was very miserly and wicked, and he
collected much money, and filled the trunk of a tree with
t, and placed it beside his fire in every body's sight, so

POPULAR STORIES. 69

that none suspected that money was contained in it. It
happened once when all the inhabitants were hard asleep,
that the sea entered the house so high that the trunk
swam, and when the sea retired it carried it away ; and so
the trunk swam many miles on the sea, until it came to a
city in which was a certain man who kept a common inn.
This man rose in the morning, and seeing the trunk afloat
drew it to land, thinking it was nothing more than a piece
of wood thrown away or abandoned by somebody. This
man was very liberal and generous towards poor people
and strangers. It happened one day that strangers were
entertained in his house, and it was very cold weather.
The host began to cut the wood with an axe, and after
three or four blows he heard a sound ; and when he disco-
vered the money, he rejoiced, and placed it under safe keep-
ing, to restore it to the rightful owner, if he should apply for
it. And the smith went from city to city in search of his
money, and at last he came to the city and house of the
innkeeper who had found the trunk. When the stranger
spoke of his lost trunk, his host understood that the money
was his, and he thought within himself, ' Now I will try
if it be God's will that I should restore him his money.'
The host caused to be made three pasties of dough; the
first he filled with earth, the second with dead men's bones,
and the third with the money which he found in the trunk.
Having done this, he said to the smith, ' We will eat three
good pasties of excellent flesh which I have ; you shall
have which you choose.' And the smith lifted them one
after another, and he found that the one filled with earth
was the heaviest, and he chose it, and said to the host, ' If
I want more, I will choose that next,' placing his hand
on the pasty full of dead men's bones, 'you may keep the

/O POPULAR STORIES.

third pasty yourself.' The host seeing this, said in his
heart, ' Now I see clearly that it is not the will of God
that this wretch should have the money/ He immediately
called together the poor and the weak, the blind and the
lame, and, in the presence of the smith opened the pasty
and said, * Behold, wretch, thy money, which I gave thee
into thy hands, yet thou hast chosen in preference the
pasties of earth and of dead men's bones, and thou hast
done well, for it has not pleased God that thou shouldest
have thy money again !' And immediately the host divided
the money before his eyes among the poor : and so the
smith departed in confusion."

This story is found in different shapes in manuscripts,
written long before the period of the compilation of the
Gesta Romanorum. In one, in the British Museum, written
apparently at the end of the thirteenth century, it is told
as follows : —

" A man who dwelt in the neighbourhood of Winchilsea
collected money in a chest, with which he neither benefited
himself nor others. Going one day to look at it, he saw
a little black demon seated upon it, who said to him, ' Be-
gone, this money is not thine, but it belongs to Godwin
the smith.' When he heard this, unwilling that it should
turn to any man's benefit, he hollowed out a great trunk
of a tree, and placed the money in it, and closed it up,
and threw it into the sea. The waves carried the trunk to
the door of the aforesaid Godwin, a righteous and innocent
man, who dwelt in the next town, and threw it on the dry
shore the day before Christmas Day. Godwin happening
to go out that morning, found the trunk, and rejoiced
much to have such a log for the festival, and he carried it
to his house and put it in the fireplace. On Christmas

POPULAR STORIES. 71

Eve they lighted the fire, and the metal within the trunk
began to melt and rim out. When the wife of Godwin
saw this, she took the log from the fire, and hid it. So it
happened that the owner of the money was obliged to beg
from door to door, while the smith from a poor man
became suddenly rich. It was, however, soon known how
the miser had thrown his money into the sea, and the
wife of Godwin, seeing how the case stood, thought that
she would give the wretch some help, and she made one
day a loaf, and concealed forty shillings in it, and gave
it to him. The beggar soon after met some fishermen on
the shore, and sold the loaf for a penny, and went his way.
And the fishermen coming as usual to the house of God-
win, drew out the loaf and gave it to their horses. But
Godwin's wife recognising it, she gave them oats in ex-
change for it, and recovered the money. And thus the
wretched man remained in poverty to the end of his life."
Another version of this story, differing little from the
one last given, is printed in the selection of Latin stories
published by the Percy Society, from a manuscript of the
earlier part of the fourteenth century. It is also found in
several other shapes, and in one in the Anglo-Latin text
of the Gesta Romanorum, three caskets, each bearing an
inscription, take the place of the three pasties. This is
the original type of the incident of the caskets in the
Merchant of Venice. We will give one instance of the
manner in which stories from ancient history are perverted
and moralized (cap. 43.)

"Iu a certain place in the middle of Rome, the earth
once opened and left a gaping gulf. When the gods were
consulted upon this, they gave for answer : ' This gulf
will not be closed until some one will throw himself volun-

72 POPULAR STORIES.

tarily into it.' But when they could persuade nobody to
do this, Marcus Aurelius said, ' If you will allow me to
live at my will in Rome for a year, at the end of the year
I will joyfully and voluntarily throw myself in.' When
the Romans heard this, they were joyful, and agreed to it,
and denied him nothing. So he used their goods and
wives at his pleasure for a year, and then mounting a
noble horse, leaped headlong into the gulf, and imme-
diately the earth closed."

The moralization runs thus : —

" Rome signifies this world, in the middle of which is
hell in the centre, which was open before the nativity of
Christ, and an infinite number of men fell into it, where-
upon we received an answer from the gods, that is, the
prophets, that it would never be closed until a virgin should
give birth to a son, who should fight for mankind against
the devil, and his soul with divinity should descend to hell,
from which time you are to know that it will never after-
wards be opened, until some one open it by mortal sin."

The moralization here does not appear very applicable.
But these symbolical interpretations are the most curious
feature of the work. In the story of the c Procuress and
the little dog,' we are told that the chaste and beautiful
matron is the soul cleansed by baptism, the young man
who attempts to seduce her is the vanity of the world, the
old woman who effects her ruin is the devil, and, which
is the oddest of all, the little dog is " the hope of long life
and too much presumption in God's mercy." In the story
of ' Argus/ the white cow is the soul, the lord who possesses
it is Jesus Christ, Argus represents the clergy to whose
care the soul is intrusted, and Mercury is the devil. In
the story of ' Rosimunda,' the lady is the soul "which runs

POPULAR STORIES. /S

swiftly in good works as long as it remains in purity of
life ;" Abibas is the devil, who overtakes the soul by three
stratagems : the garland, representing pride ; the girdle,
luxury ; and the ball, avarice. And so with the rest. This
style of moralization is characteristic of, and fitted for, a
singular state of society, when the mass of the people
were wholly uneducated and little accustomed to think for
themselves, and it required broad material images to convey
even spiritual ideas. Taking the collection as a whole, it
gives us an extraordinary picture of the intellectual condi-
tion of an age which we can hardly understand so well in
any other historical form, and we might, perhaps, be allowed
to hazard one general nioralization as a conclusion : — may
we not look upon the whole collection as representing the
construction of medieval civilization ? The classic stories
show the civilization of antiquity on which medieval society
was founded, while the Gothic garb in which they are
clothed is the spirit of the Germanic race which overran
it ; the monkish legends represent that baneful weight of
papal church influence which checked civilization in its
progress ; and the beautiful apologues of the East, what are
they but that Saracenic element, that spirit of movement
which contributed so much towards the higher mental cul-
tivation of modern Europe ?

Professor Keller's edition of the Gesta Romanorum is,
as we have observed, merely a careful reproduction of the
early printed text ; but we look forward with some degree
of interest to his essay and commentary, which is to form
the second part. We know no scholar of the present day
better fitted for this task. We could wish, however, to
see a good edition of the English text of the Latin Gesta,
which in our opinion is the most ancient one, and which

VOL. II. 4

74 POPULAR STORIES.

is certainly the best. The Gesta Romanorum deserves a
new edition less from any great interest possessed by the
stories themselves, which are much inferior to the more
common tales of the age, than as a monument of import-
ance in the history of fiction ; for it was once an extremely
popular book, and it not only exercised a great influence
on our literature down to so late a period as the seven-
teenth century, but it forms one of the most important
links in the chain of transmission of popular stories from
one age to another.

Before leaving this latter subject, and as a conclusion
to our article, we will point out what appears to us a most
remarkable instance of this transmission, and one which
we believe has not been hitherto noticed. It is an example
in which there is a singularly close resemblance in the
incidents, and yet no apparent mode of accounting for
it. Grimm and Schmeller, in their collection of medieval
Latin poetry, published at Gottingen in 1838, printed a
metrical story of an adventurer named Unibos ; taken, as
we are informed, from a manuscript of the eleventh cen-
tury, though from its general character we should have
been more inclined to look upon it as a production of the
twelfth. Unibos, who was so named because he constantly
lost all his cattle but one, had enemies in the provost,
mayor, and priest of his town. At length, his last bullock
dying, he took the hide to a neighbouring fair and sold it,
and on his way home he accidentally discovered a treasure.
He thereupon sent to the provost to borrow a pint measure.
The provost, curious to know the use to which this is to be
applied, watches through the door, sees the gold, and ac-
cuses Unibos of robbery. The latter, aware of the provost's
malice, determines to play a trick upon him, which leads

POPULAR STORIES. /3

him into further scrapes than he expected, though they all
turn out in the end to his advantage. He tells the provost
that at the fair to which he had been, bullocks' hides were
in great request, and that he had sold his own for the gold
which he saw there. The provost consults with the mayor
and priest, and they kill all their cattle and carry the hides
to the fair, where they ask an enormous price for them.
At first they are only laughed at, but at last they become
involved in a quarrel with the shoemakers, are carried
before the magistrates, and are obliged to abandon their
hides to pay the fine for a breach of the peace. The three
enemies of Unibos return in great wrath, to escape the
effects of which he is obliged to have recourse to another
trick. He smears his wife with bullock's blood, and
makes her lie down to all appearance dead. The provost
and his companions arrive, and are horror-struck at the
spectacle offered to their eyes ; but Unibos takes the matter
coolly, and tells them that if they will forgive him the
trick he has played upon them, he will undertake to restore
his wife to life and make her younger and more handsome
than she had been before. To this they immediately agree,
and Unibos, taking a small trumpet out of a wooden box,
blows on it three times over the body of his wife, with
strange ceremonies, and when the trumpet sounds the
third time, she jumps upon her legs. She then washes
and dresses herself, and appears so much more handsome
than usual, that the three officials, who all possess wives
that are getting old and are rather ill-favoured, give a great
sum of money to possess the instrument, and each of them
goes immediately and kills his wife, but they find that the
virtues of the trumpet have entirely disappeared. They
again repair to the hut of Unibos, who averts their ven-
geance by another trick, and extorts again a large sum of

/O POPULAR STORIES.

money as the price of his mare. In this they find them-
selves equally cheated, and they seize upon Unibos, whose
tricks appear to be exhausted, and give him only the choice
of his death. He requests to be confined in a barrel, and
thrown into the sea. On their way to the coast, his three
enemies enter a public-house to drink, and leave the barrel
at the door. A herdsman passes at this moment with a
drove of pigs, and, hearing a person in the barrel, asks
him how he came there. Unibos answers that he is sub-
jected to this punishment because he had refused to be
made provost of a large town. The herdsman, ambitious
of the honour, agrees to change places with him, and
Unibos proceeds home with the pigs. The three officials
continue their journey, and in spite of the exclamations of the
prisoner in the barrel that he is willing to be provost, they
throw him into the sea; but what is their astonishment
on their return at meeting their old enemy, whom they
supposed drowned, driving before him a fine drove of pigs.
He tells them that at the bottom of the sea he had found
a pleasant country where there were innumerable pigs, of
which he had only brought with him a few.

Respondet, " sub prodigio
Maris praecipitatio ;
Ad regnum felicissimum
Fui per praecipitium.
Inde nunquam recederem,
Si non amassem conjugem,
Quam vidistis resurgere
Veracis tubas murmure.
Non fuit culpa bucinae,
Sed bucinantis pessime,
Omnes si vestrae feminae
Modo stertunt sub pulvere."

POPULAR STORIES. 7 J

The greedy officials are seduced by his tale, and throw
themselves from a rock into the sea, and Unibos is thus
delivered of his enemies.

The Contes Tartares of Gueulette, which are believed
to be only imitations of oriental tales, though they are,
probably, mixed with stories of an Eastern origin, were
published in 1715. The adventures of the 'Young Calen-
der/ in this collection, are the exact counterpart of the
story of 'Unibos,' which it is quite certain that Gueulette
never saw. The young calender having been cheated by
three sharpers, in a manner similar to the story of the
'Rustic and his Lamb,' mentioned in the earlier part of
the present essay, is eager to be revenged, and having two
white goats, resembling each other, he goes with one of
them to the market where he had been cheated. The
three men, who are there seeking opportunities of depre-
dation, immediately enter into conversation with him, and
in their presence he buys various articles of provision, and
placing them in a basket on the goat's back, orders the
animal to inform his servant that he had invited some
friends to dinner, and to give her directions how each of
the different articles are to be cooked, and then turns it
loose. The sharpers laugh at him ; but in order to con-
vince them he was in earnest, he asks them to accompany
him home. There, to their astonishment, they find the
dinner prepared exactly according to the calender's direc-
tions ; and in their hearing, the calender's mother, who
was in the secret, and who acted the servant, tells her son
that his friends have sent to excuse themselves, and that
the goat had delivered his orders, and was now feeding in
the garden, where, in fact, the other white goat was brows-
ing on the plants. The calender invites the sharpers to

78 POPULAR STORIES.

join in his dinner, and ends by cheating them of a large
sum of money in exchange for the supposed miraculous
goat. Finding the animal endowed with none of the pro-
perties they expected, they return to take revenge on the
calender. He receives their reproaches with surprise, calls
in his pretended servant, and asks why she neglected to
give them a particular direction relating to the goat which
he had forgotten, and she makes an excuse. In a feigned
passion he stabs her in the belly, and she falls down co-
vered with blood, and apparently dead. The three men are
horror-struck at this catastrophe ; but the calender tells
them not to be alarmed. He takes a horn out of a little
casket, blows it over the body, and his mother, who only
pretended to be killed, arises, and leaves the room unhurt.
The three sharpers, in the sequel, buy the horn for a great
sum of money, return home and sup with their wives ;
and after supper, anxious to try the virtues of the horn,
they pick a quarrel with the ladies, and cut their throats.
The horn proves as great a failure as the goat ; and the
police, who have been attracted by the noise, force their
way in, and seize two of the sharpers, who are hanged for
the murder ; the third escapes. The latter, some time
afterwards, meets with the calender, puts him in a sack,
and carries him off with the intention of throwing him
into a deep river. But on his way he hears the approach
of horsemen, and, fearing to be discovered, he throws the
sack into a hole beside the road, and rides off to a distance.
A butcher now arrives with a flock of sheep, and, discover-
ing the calender in the sack, proceeds to question him.
The calender says that he is confined there because he will
not marry the cadi's daughter, a beautiful damsel, but who
has been guilty of an indiscretion. The butcher, allured

POPULAR STORIES. 79

by this prospect of advancement, agrees to take his place
in the sack, and the calender marches off with the sheep.
The sharper then returns, and, in spite of the promises of
the butcher to marry the cadi's daughter, throws him into
the river. But on his way back, he is astonished to meet
the calender with his sheep. The latter tells him, that
when he reached the bottom of the river, he found a good
genius, who gave him those sheep, and told him, that if he
had been thrown further into the river, he would have ob-
tained a much larger flock. The sharper, allured by the
love of gain, allows himself to be confined in a sack, and
thrown into the river.

The third form of this story we owe to our best of story-
tellers, Samuel Lover. Most of our readers will remember
the legend of ' Little Fairly,' first published in the Dublin
University Magazine, and afterwards inserted in the Le-
gends and Stories of Ireland, (1837.) Little Fairly and
Great Fairly were the sons of one man, by two wives ; the
latter inherited the estates, and lived with his mother in
prosperity, while Little Fairly inherited only one cow, and
dwelt with his mother in a rude hut. The elder brother,
who tyrannises over the younger, kills his cow. Little
Fairly takes the hide to a fair, and by a trick sells it for a
hundred guineas. On his return, he sends to ask for his
brother's scales to weigh his money ; and the latter, in his
curiosity to know why his brother wanted the scales,
comes to the hut, discovers his brother's riches, and
charges him with robbery. Little Fairly tells him that
the money was the proceeds of his hide, an article which
then fetched a great price at the fair. Great Fairly was a
greedy man, and, resolving not to lose the occasion, killed
all the cattle on his estate for the sake of their hides ; but

80 POPULAR STORIES.

when he came to the fair, instead of selling his merchan-
dise, he was dreadfully beaten, in revenge for the trick
played by his brother. As soon as he has recovered from
the effects of his beating, he goes to his brother's hut, and
by accident kills Little Fairly' s mother. Little Fairly
turns this also to advantage, and obtains fifty guineas,
which he represents as having been the price given for his
mother's body by the doctor in the neighbouring town,
His avaricious brother immediately goes and kills his own
mother, and carries her body to the doctor, but narrowly
escapes being delivered to public justice for the murder.
Great Fairly, in revenge, seizes his brother, puts him in a
sack, and carries him off, with the intention of throwing
him into a bog. He stops at an inn on the way to drink,
and leaves his brother in the sack, outside the door. A
farmer passes by with a herd of cattle, which he is per-
suaded to give Little Fairly, to be allowed to take his place
in the sack, and he is thrown into the bog. Great Fairly,
on his return, meets his brother with his cattle, and is in-
formed that he had found a country at the bottom of the
bog, abounding in herds, and that when he had carried
these home, he proposed to return for more. Great Fairly,
eager to be before his brother, jumps into the bog, and is
drowned.

We here find the same story, at three widely different
periods, and in different countries — in Germany, in the
eleventh or twelfth century, in France (if Gueulette's story
be not taken from an Eastern collection) in the eighteenth
century, and in Ireland at the present day. The resem-
blance is too close to be accidental ; it is certain that
neither of the two other writers could have been acquainted
with the story of "' Unibos,' and we do not think it probable

POPULAR STORIES. 81

that our friend Lover borrowed anything from Gueulette.
In fact, the Irish story contains several incidents of re-
semblance to ' Umbos/ which are not found in the French.
The story is not found in writing, in any document which
could have formed a medium of transmission. It must,
therefore, have been preserved in all these countries tra-
ditionally. It is in this manner that the influence of the
early popular literature has been continued down to the
present time. The fables and legends now current among
the peasantry are the fictions of the middle ages.

4§

ESSAY XIII.

ON THE POETRY OF HISTORY.

ARIOUS writers have undertaken to build
romance upon history, but few, except
those who have occupied themselves with
researches into its sources, are aware how
much of history itself is nothing more
than legend and romance. In the first place, much which
appears as serious matter of fact will not bear a close
examination. Facts are conveyed to us, through the
chroniclers of the time, disfigured by the prejudices of
religious and political partisans, or exaggerated in their
passage from one relater to another. The history of
England abounds in stories of this kind, the falsity of
which is only discovered from time to time in accidental
researches. A singular instance was pointed out, some
time ago, by Mr. Hunter, who was enabled to correct it, by
discovering the original rolls of accounts relating to the
event which was the subject of it. One of the persons
most deeply implicated in the murder of king Edward II,
in Berkeley Castle, was Sir Thomas de Gournay, who
subsequently made his escape to the Continent. One
of our latest historians, Dr. Lingard, tells the sequel of his
story thus : " Gournay fled into Spain, and was appre-
hended by the magistrates of Burgos. At the request of

POETRY OF HISTORY. 83

the king of England, he was examined by them, in the
presence of an English envoy. What disclosures he made
were kept secret : but we may suppose that they implicated
persons of high rank, as the messengers who had him in
charge received orders to behead him at sea, on his way to
England." This is the account of Gournay's fate given by
all historians, and founded upon contemporary writers : he
was said to have accused queen Isabella, and some of the
more influential of her partisans. But we learn from
Mr. Hunter's documents, that Gournay, having been set at
liberty by the authorities of Burgos, was finally captured at
Naples ; and we have the account of expenditure by the
persons who had him in charge during the whole of their
journey, until they appeared before king Edward in Eng-
land. They carried Gournay first, by sea, to Aigues-
Mortes, and thence to Perpignan, and they were then
obliged, by accidental circumstances, to shape their course
through Spain, and so to Bayonne and Bordeaux. During
this journey, large sums are frequently paid to physicians
for attending the prisoner, which proves both that he was
labouring under severe illness, and that his guardians were
anxious to carry him home alive. At Bayonne we find the
last payments to physicians, and their payments for em-
balming his body, so that he died there, and his body was
brought thence to Bordeaux, and afterwards to England.
Thus the common account of his death is a mere fabrica-
tion. This, however, is rather the fable than the poetry
of history.

Strict historical truth has received injury from another
source. During the middle ages, an immense number of
romantic stories floated from country to country, and from
mouth to mouth. These frequently took a colouring from

84 POETRY OF HISTORY.

place and circumstances, became located, and were handed
down to us as historical facts. The first example of this
kind of location of stories which presents itself, is the well
known incident of the death of Henry IV of England, who
expired in the Jerusalem chamber, it having been foretold
that he shoidd end his days in Jerusalem. Shakespeare
has adapted this incident with great effect :

" K. Hen. Doth any name particular belong
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon ?

War. ' Tis calVd Jerusalem, my noble lord.

K. Hen. Laud be to God ! — even there my life must end.
It hath been prophesied to me many years,
I should not die but in Jerusalem ;
Whch vainly I supposed the Holy Land ; —
But bear me to that chamber ; there I'll lie —
In that Jerusalem shall Harry die."

This story had been told of other persons long before
the time of Henry IV. Pope Sylvester II — the famous
Gerbert — who was the subject of many legends in after-
times, died at the beginning of the eleventh century.
Among other things, he is said to have had recourse to
supernatural agency, in order to foreknow the length of
his life, and was told that he should not die until he
entered Jerusalem. Satisfied with this answer, he followed
his worldly pursuits in perfect security, until one day,
while performing divine service in a church in Rome,
which he had never entered before, he was suddenly
seized with sickness, and, accidentally inquiring the name
of the church, he was told that it was popularly called
Jerusalem. The pope immediately confessed himself, and
prepared for death. This tale is not only told of other

POETRY OF HISTORY. 85

persons, but it appears in a variety of forms. According
to a story of the fourteenth century, a certain person con-
sulted the devil, and received for answer that he should
not die until he entered into a glove. He soon afterwards
came to the town of Gaunt (Ghent,) and there he died.

It is wonderful how many stories of this class have crept
into our history. The following occurs in a Latin manu-
script, and appears to be at least as old as the thirteenth
century. A wealthy English baron, who had extensive
possessions in England and Wales, had three sons ; when
lying on his death-bed, he called them to him and said —
" If you were compelled to become birds, tell me what
bird each of you would choose to resemble?" The eldest
said, " I would be a hawk, because it is a noble bird, and
lives by rapine." The second said, "I would be a star-
ling, because it is a social bird and flies in coveys." The
youngest said, " And I would be a swan, because it has a
long neck, so that if I had anything in my heart to say, I
should have plenty of time for reflection before it came to
my mouth." When the father had heard them, he said to
the first, " Thou, my son, as I perceive, desirest to live by
rapine : I give thee my possessions in England, because it
is a land of peace and justice, and thou canst not rob in it
with impunity." To the second, he said, " Because thou
lovest society, to thee I give my possessions in Wales,
which is a land of discord and war, in order that thy cour-
tesy may soften down the malice of the natives." And to
the younger, " To thee I give no land at all, because thou
art wise, and wilt gain enough by thy wisdom." And as
he foretold, the youngest son profited by his wisdom, and
became chief justice of England, which, in those times,
was the next dignity to that of king. An old chronicler

86 POETRY OF HISTORY.

tells a similar story of William the Conqueror. The
monarch was one day pensive and thoughtful; his wise
men inquired the cause ; and he stated that he wished to
know what would be the fate of his sons after his death.
The wise men consulted together, and at length it was pro-
posed that they should put questions separately to the
three princes, who were then young. The first who en-
tered the room was Robert, (afterwards known by the
surname of Courthose.) " Fair sir," said one of the wise
men, " answer me a question : if God had made you a
bird, what bird would you wish to have been?" Robert
answered, " A hawk, because it resembles most a courteous
and valiant knight." William Rufus next entered, and
his answer to the same question was, " I would be an
eagle, because it is a strong and powerful bird, and feared
by all other birds, and therefore it is king over them all."
Lastly, came the younger brother Henry, who had received
a learned education, and was on that account known by
the surname of Beauclerc. His choice was a starling,
"because it is a debonaire and simple bird, and gains its
living without injury to any one, and never seeks to rob or
grieve its neighbour." The wise men returned imme-
diately to the king. Robert, they said, would be bold
and valiant, and would gain renown and honour, but he
would finally be overcome by violence, and die in a prison ;
William would be powerful and strong as the eagle, but
feared and hated for his cruelty and violence, until he
ended a bad life by an equally bad death ; but Henry
would be wise and prudent, peaceful unless when com-
pelled to war ; he would gain wide lands, and die in peace.
When king William lay on his death-bed, he remembered
the saying of his wise men, and bequeathed Normandy to

POETRY OF HISTORY. 87

Robert, England to William, and his own treasures, with-
out land, to his younger son Henry, who eventually became
king of both countries, and reigned long and prosperously.

King Alfred's visit to the Danish camp in disguise of a
harper, is another story of this kind. The same stratagem
is said to have been reacted a few years later, the parties
being reversed, when one of the Danish chieftains, before
the battle of Brunanburh, visited in the same disguise the
camp of king Athelstan. This was a very common story
in the middle ages, and is found applied to a multitude of
persons, in history as well as in romance. In fact, in the
early romances, no disguise is so frequently used by a spy
as that of a minstrel ; because the minstrel was a sort of
neutral personage, who was allowed to pass everywhere —
he was thus, also, the chief popular instrument of convey-
ing news from one country to another.

Such stories as these are highly poetical ; they are not
history, yet they enliven the otherwise dry pages of the
annalist, without detracting, in any important degree, from
his truth. They have become thus located, because they
are characteristic of the person on whom they are fixed,
and they may be considered as a form in which popular
feeling has enregistered its opinion of the individual.
These may truly be termed the poetry of history.

Popular tradition generally misrepresents the actions,
but not the character of its hero, who is soon enlisted into
a number of fabulous or half-fabulous adventures. If hu-
mility be joined with his bravery, he becomes the hero of
such tales as that of king Alfred watching the cotter's cakes,
and submitting to insult and scorn from the ill-tempered
housewife ; if only brave, we find him slaying lions and
dragons ; if pious, his life is a series of miracles. Here we

88 POETRY OF HISTORY.

have the source of many a purely poetic narrative, which
makes its way into the pages of the historian, to puzzle
those who try, in vain, to measure the degree of absolute
truth which they would fain detect in it. It is surprising
how soon historical personages become invested with
romantic attributes, which often originated in popular
songs.

The popular mythology of the people also had its influ-
ence. Thus the legend of mighty princes, carried away
from the earth, to be restored in future ages, exists in the
historical traditions of all countries. The German peasant
still looks forward to the reappearance of the emperor
Frederic, as a few ages ago the Welsh and Bretons expected
the return of king Arthur. Long after the battle of
Hastings there were men who believed that king Harold
had escaped from the slaughter, and this tradition has been
a matter of discussion in our days. In the latter part of
the sixteenth century, the Portuguese believed that king
Sebastian had not perished in the fatal expedition against
the Moors ; but that he was still living in disguise among
his native mountains. Even recently there were people in
France who looked forward to the resuscitation of Napoleon.

In the fine old English ballad of Adam Bel, Clym of the
Cloughe, and William of Cloudesle, the captured outlaw
gains the king's favour by shooting an apple placed on his
son's head. —

" And there, even before the kynge,

In the earth he drove a stake,
And hound therto his eldest sonne,

And bad hym stande styll ther-at ;
And turned the childes face fro him,

Because he shuld not sterte.

POETRY OF HISTORY. 89

An apple upon his head he set,

And then his howe he bent.
Syxe score paces they were out met,

And thether Cloudesle went ;
There he drew out a fayr brode arrowe,

Hys bowe was great and longe ;
He set that arrowe in his bowe,

That was both styffe and stronge.
He prayed the people that was there

That they would stylle stande ;
For he that shooteth for such a wager,

Behoveth a steadfast hand.
Muche people prayed for Cloudesle,

That hys lyfe saved myght be ;
And whan he made hym redy to shote,

There was many a weping eye.
Then Cloudesle clefte the apple in two,

That many a man myght se.
1 Ouer Gods forbode,' sayde the kinge,

' That thou shote at me !' "

This incident occurs as a historical fact in the ancient
northern historian, Saxo Grammaticus. Sprenger, an early-
writer on these matters, in his Malleus Maleficarum, has a
chapter de Sagittariis Maleficis, where he relates the same
story of one Punkler, a magician of Rorbach, in the
diocese of Worms ; and, if our memory be not very trea-
cherous, we have read in one of the old treatises on
spirits and witchcraft, a similar story of a hobgoblin which
shot an apple off a child's head. Every one knows how
this incident has taken a historical shape in the personage
of William Tell.

The influence of this poetic creativeness, if we may use
such a word, not only pervades all parts of our national

90 POETRY OF HISTORY.

history, but contributed largely to the formation of an
interesting class of particular histories, of which unfor-
tunately but few specimens remain. These are the half
historical and half romantic lives of persons, the memory
of whose actions, or whose fate, had made them notorious.
They contain at once all the different classes of poetic
fiction which are above enumerated as being scattered over
the pages of general history ; yet they, without doubt, give
us a true picture of the individual, and of the character of
his age, — far truer than that furnished by the annalist or
by the critical historian. One of the most remarkable
histories of this class is the life of the Saxon Hereward,
who held out for several years, with a band of followers,
against the Norman Conqueror, in the wild marshy districts
of Ely and Peterborough, and whose marvellous adventures
were collected and woven into a narrative early in the
twelfth century ; for the compiler speaks of having con-
versed with those who had been personally acquainted with
his hero. He confesses that many of his stories had been
preserved in a poetical form, and we know, from other
authorities, that the adventures of Hereward were the ordi-
nary subject of popular songs during the greater part of
the twelfth century. Some parts of the life of Hereward
are undoubtedly fabulous ; but we cannot hesitate in regard-
ing the whole story as a true picture of the struggle between
the last of the Saxon heroes and the oppressors of his
country. We have two similar histories of personages who
nourished in the reign of king John : one, an outlawed
baron — a true Robin Hood — named Fulke fitz Warine ;
the other a renegade monk employed by John, who was
believed to have had dealings with the evil one, and who
was popularly known by the name of Eustace the Monk.

ESSAY XIV.

ADVENTURES OF HERE WARD THE SAXON.
DESTRUCTION OP THE NORMANS AT BRUNNE.

|N the 14th of October, 1066, the dynasty
of the Anglo-Saxon kings was overthrown,
in one long, desperate, and sanguinary
combat — the battle of Hastings. The
Norman conqueror at first pretended that
he had fought only for a throne to which he was entitled,
and he promised that his people should be molested neither
in their laws nor in their property. But he gradually and
insidiously introduced his Norman soldiers into the posses-
sions of the vanquished, until he made his position suffi-
ciently strong to throw off altogether the ill-sustained
mask. Then followed a period of spoliation and ravage.
The bravest of the Saxons took to the woods and the mo-
rasses, became outlaws, and lost no opportunity of plun-
dering and destroying their oppressors, in revenge for the
injuries which had been inflicted upon their country.
On a calm evening, in the year 1068,* ill-assorting with

* The date of our hero's return is fixed, by the annals of John abbot
of Peterborough — " Anno mlxviii, Herwardus de partibus transmarinis
rediens in Angliam ad haereditatem suam, et reperiens regem Normannis
earn contulisse, occisis occupantibus coepit contra regem dimicare."

It may be right to observe, that our history of Hereward is taken,
almost literally, from the Gesta Herwardi Saxonis, (preserved in a MS.
of the twelfth century,) compared with the chronicles of the time.

92 ADVENTURES OF

the political turbulence and confusion around, a stranger,
whose stature was below the ordinary standard, but whose
form exhibited great muscular strength, whose mien and
bearing told of lofty deeds of prowess, and whose com-
plexion bespoke a pure Saxon origin, entered the village of
Brunne, in Lincolnshire, the chief manor of the noble earl
Leofric. He had with him one attendant, light armed like
himself, and clothed for a long journey on foot ; for the
Anglo-Saxons made no great use of horses. The stranger
turned into a house at the entrance of the village, and
demanded hospitality of its tenant, a Saxon knight and
one of earl Leofric' s dependents, who received him with a
Saxon welcome. But the faces of the inmates bore marks
of intense sorrow and dejection, and, in answer to his
questions, they told him that their lord was dead, that a
Norman had been sent to usurp his possessions, and that
they were on the point of being delivered over to the
rapacity of the invaders. When requested to give a more
particular account of their misfortune, the host said — " It
is little consistent with the rites of hospitality to make our
guest a partaker in sorrows which, perhaps, it is not in his
power to alleviate. Nevertheless, since it is thy will, know
that, until yesterday, the younger child of our ancient lord,
the heir to his possessions, unless his elder brother Here-
ward, a brave soldier, but now absent in some far distant
land, should return, was living amongst us. He and his
mother were recommended to our protection by our lord
on his death-bed. Yesterday the Normans came and seized
upon his house; they demanded the keys and the treasures,
and the youth slew two of the intruders, who would have
laid violent hands upon his parent. The wretches killed
the boy, and have fixed his head ignominiously above the

HERE WARD THE SAXON. 93

door- way. Alas! we have no power to revenge him. Would
that his brother Hereward were here ! before to-morrow's
sun rises they would all taste of the same bitter cup which
they have forced upon us !" The stranger listened to the
tale, and groaned inwardly.

After they had partaken of the evening meal, the family
retired to rest ; but their guest lay sleepless and thoughtful
on his bed, until suddenly the distant sounds of singing
and music, and shouts of riotous applause, burst alternately
upon his ears. He sprang from his couch, roused a serving
man of the house, and, inquiring the meaning of this
tumult, was informed that the Norman intruders were cele-
brating the entry of their lord into the patrimony of the
youth they had murdered the day before. The stranger
put on his arms, threw about him a large black cloak
which concealed him from observation, and, with his com-
panion in a similar garb, proceeded through the village to
the place of boisterous revelry. There, the first object
which met his eyes was the ghastly head, which he took
down, kissed, and wrapped in a cloth, and then the two
adventurers placed themselves in the dark shade within the
doorway, whence they had a full view of the interior of
the hall. The Normans were scattered around a blazing
fire, most of them overcome with drunkenness, and reclin-
ing on the bosoms of their women. In the midst of the
hall was a jongleur or minstrel, who chaunted songs of
reproach against the Saxons, and ridiculed their unpolished
manners in coarse dances and ludicrous gestures. He was
proceeding to utter indecent jests against the family of the
youth whom they had slain, when he was interrupted by
one of the women, a native of Flanders. " Forget not,"
she said, " that the boy has a brother named Hereward,

94 ADVENTURES OF

who is famed for his bravery throughout the country whence
I come ; if he were here, things would wear a different
aspect to-morrow." The new lord of the house, indignant
at the boldness of the speaker, raised his head, and ex-
claimed, " I know the man well, and his wicked deeds,
which would have brought him ere this to the gallows, had
he not sought safety in flight ; nor dare he now make his
appearance anywhere on this side of the Alps."

The obsequious minstrel seized on the theme thus started
by his lord, and was proceeding to the most violent invec-
tives, when he was cut short in an unexpected manner —
he sank to the ground, his head cloven by the blow of a
Saxon sword, and the stranger, who had been a concealed
spectator, rushed upon the defenceless Normans, who fell
one after another beneath his arm, those who attempted to
escape being intercepted by his companion at the door.
The heads of the Norman lord and fourteen of his knights
were quickly raised over the door-way in place of that of
the youth they had murdered.

The stranger was Hereward the Saxon, accompanied by
his old and trusty follower, named, from his agility, Martin
with the Light Foot.

When it was known that Hereward was returned, the
Normans who had settled in the neighbourhood fled in
consternation, and the injured Saxons rose on every side,
and hastened to join his banner. Hereward checked, at
first, the zeal of his countrymen ; but he selected a strong
body of his kinsmen and family adherents, and with them
he attacked and slew such of the Norman invaders as had
been bold enough to remain on his paternal estates. He
then repaired to his friend Brand, the Saxon abbot of
Peterborough, from whom he received the honour of knight-

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 95

hood in the Anglo-Saxon manner ; for amongst our Saxon
ancestors it was always given by the clergy. After sud-
denly attacking and killing a Norman baron who had been
sent against him, Hereward dispersed his followers, pro-
mising them to return within the space of a year, acquainted
them with the signal by which his arrival should be made
known, and then proceeded to Flanders.

IT. HERE WARD'S YOUTHFUL ADVENTURES.

Hereward was the son of Leofric, earl of Chester and
Mercia, and of that lady Godiva who has been immor-
talized in the legendary annals of Coventry. From his
boyhood he had been distinguished among his companions
by his strength and boldness ; and, as he grew up, his
adventurous disposition gave rise to continual feuds and
tumults, which, with various acts of insubordination to-
wards his parents, drew upon him the enmity of his family.
He is accused of having, on different occasions, collected
some of his father's rents to distribute among his wild
followers ; and his kinsmen were often obliged to raise
their tenantry in arms to rescue him from some imminent
danger into which he had fallen through his temerity.
Earl Leofric at length procured an order from king Edward
the Confessor to banish him from his country, and at the
age of eighteen he was driven from his home, with only
one attendant, a serf of the family, named Martin with
the Light Foot, who appears to have possessed the same
adventurous spirit as himself. From this time he was
known as Hereward the Exile.

The marvellous adventures of Hereward, during the
period of his exile, fill several chapters of the ancient

96 ADVENTURES OF

biography. When he left his father's house, he first
directed his steps towards the borders of Scotland, where
he was received into the household of a rich and powerful
thane, named Gisebert of Ghent, his godfather. Here again
his restless courage exposed him to jealousy and hatred.
Gisebert kept a number of wild beasts of different kinds,
which, at the festivities of Easter, Whitsuntide, and Christ-
mas, he let out, to try the strength and courage of the
youths who were candidates for the honour of knighthood.
Among the rest, he had a large and fierce Norwegian bear,
which was carefully chained up in its cell. One day this
terrible animal escaped by accident from its place of con-
finement, slew every person it met, and spread terror
through the house. Here ward rushed forth to meet it,
and, encountering it singly, as it was hurrying towards the
apartment devoted to the ladies of the family, after a
desperate struggle, succeeded in destroying it. By this
action he secured the favour of the ladies, but the envy of
his companions knew no bounds : and after having nar-
rowly escaped a plot laid against his life, he left the house
of Gisebert in disgust, and proceeded to the extreme part
of Cornwall, which was then governed by an independent
British chief.

The Cornish chief was named Alef ; he had a beautiful
and accomplished daughter, who appears by the sequel to
have bestowed her affections upon an Irish prince, but her
father had promised her hand to one of her own country-
men, a bad and tyrannical man, although popular among
the Cornishmen for his extraordinary strength and valour.
To this man Hereward soon became an object of hatred,
which broke out into an open quarrel in the hall, at a
feast, when Hereward answered his boastful taunts against

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 97

his countrymen in such a manner as to excite the mirth of
the princess. The result was a single combat in a wood
near the palace, in which Hereward, by his skill and agility,
overcame and slew his more powerful adversary. The
Cornishmen, enraged at the loss of their champion, called
loudly for vengeance. Their chief, however, who seems
to have promised his daughter more from fear than incli-
nation, shielded Hereward from their violence, under pre-
tence of throwing him into prison to await his judgment ;
and the lady gave him the means of escaping secretly, with
tokens of remembrance and recommendation to the Irish
prince, and to the king, his father.

Soon after his arrival in Ireland, Hereward was joined
by two of his kinsmen, named Siward the white and Siward
the Red, who brought him intelligence of his father's
death, and urged him to return home to his mother. He
remained only to assist the king at whose court he was
living in a war against another Irish king, in which he
again signalized himself by his daring exploits.

Meanwhile, the Cornish princess was betrothed by her
father to another suitor, and she sent a messenger in haste
to the Irish prince, to tell him of the near approach of the
day fixed for her wedding, and to beg his assistance in
averting it. He was at this moment engaged with Here-
ward in a predatory descent on the coast of Cornwall, and
he immediately sent forty of his soldiers as messengers, to
claim the lady's hand, in fulfilment of a former promise of
her father. Hereward, suspicious of the result of this
message, took with him his three companions, and having
disguised himself, by colouring his face and staining his
hair, he arrived on the day of the nuptial feast, and learnt
that the Irish messengers had been thrown into prison,

VOL. II. 5

98 ADVENTURES OF

and that the intended bridegroom was to carry home his
wife on the following day. Hereward and his companions
boldly entered the hall at the wedding feast, and seated
themselves at the lowest places of the tables. The eyes of
.the princess fell upon the stranger — she thought that she
recognized the form of Hereward, but his face was unknown
to her ; yet a string of recollections passed through her
mind, and she burst into tears. She then called one of
the attendants, and ordered him to serve the strangers ; but
Hereward' s affected rudeness, with some words that dropped
from his mouth, excited her suspicions. It was the custom
at this time in Cornwall, that, after dinner on the day
before she left her father's house, the lady in her bridal
robes should assist her maidens in serving round the cup
to the guests, while a harper went before, and played to
each as the cup was offered to him. Hereward had made
a vow, at parting with the Irish prince, that he would
receive nothing at a lady's hands until offered by the prin-
cess herself; and when a harper and one of the maidens
approached him with the cup, he refused to accept the
draught, or listen to the minstrel. The reproaches of the
latter, and the indignant exclamations of the guests, reached
the ears of the princess, and increased her suspicions;
she came herself to offer the cup, and it was respectfully
accepted. She had now no doubt that the stranger was
Hereward, and, unseen by the rest, she threw, a ring into
his bosom, while, turning to the company, she excused
the rudeness of one who was unacquainted with their
customs.

The minstrel, however, remained dissatisfied, and con-
tinued to reproach the stranger for his breach of the respect
due to men of his profession, until Hereward seized the

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 99

harp from his hands, and, to the astonishment of all pre-
sent, touched the chords with exquisite skill. He was
requested to proceed, and, fearful that a refusal might
raise suspicions, he again played on the harp, and, not
only accompanied it with his own voice, but his compa-
nions joined at intervals, " after the manner of the Saxons."
The bride, to aid him in his assumed character, sent him
a rich cloak, the common reward of successful minstrels ;
and her husband, unwilling to be behindhand in his libe-
rality, offered him any gift he would ask, except his wife
and his lands. Here ward reflected a moment, and then
demanded that he should liberate the Irish messengers
who had been unjustly imprisoned. The prince was at
first inclined to grant his request, when one of his fol-
lowers, who was no friend of minstrels, exclaimed, " This
is one of their base messengers, who is come to spy thy
house, and to mock thee by carrying from thee thy enemies
in return for his frivolous performances." The suspicions
of the Cornish chief were easily roused, and, fearing to
raise a tumult by any mark of disrespect shown to the
privileged class of minstrels in the festive assembly, he
ordered the doors of the hall to be narrowly watched.
But Hereward was apprized of the danger by the princess,
and made his escape with his companions.

When they had got clear of the precincts of the house,
the fugitives followed the road along which the Cornish
chief and his bride must pass, and concealed themselves in
a wood on the banks of a river which formed the boundary
of this petty kingdom. The prince had determined to
carry with him to his own territory the Irish messengers,
purposing to deprive each of them of his right eye, and
then send them home. When he came to the river, and

100 ADVENTURES OF

just as part of his men had passed the water, Hereward
and his companions rushed from their hiding place, slew
the Cornish chief, and released the Irishmen from their
bonds. With their assistance they put the rest of the
attendants to flight, mounted their horses, and carried
away the princess. On the second night, they reached the
camp of the Irish prince, who was marching with his army
to avenge the insult offered him in the person of his messen-
gers ; and it is hardly necessary to say that the marriage
between the two lovers was immediately solemnized.

Hereward accompanied them to Ireland, and then pre-
pared to return with his friends to England. They left
Ireland in two ships, well-stored and armed, but a sudden
tempest, in which one of the ships was lost, drove them
beyond the Orcades, and as soon as they had turned the
northern extremity of Scotland, a second storm carried
them to the coast of Flanders, and wrecked them in the
neighbourhood of St. Bertin's. At first they were arrested
as spies, but, when Hereward' s name and condition were
known, the count of Flanders received him with hospitality,
and joyfully accepted his assistance in the wars in which he
was engaged. His prudence and bravery soon carried his
name far and wide, and gained him the affections of a
noble damsel named Turfrida, whom he married. In the
midst of his successes, and when he seemed to have nearly
forgotten his home and relatives, the news arrived that his
country had fallen a prey to the Norman invader, and he
afterwards learnt the wrongs which had been done to his
own kinsmen. It was under these circumstances that
Hereward entrusted his wife to the care of his tried friends,
the two Siwards, and repaired to England, to ascertain the
truth of the various reports which had reached him.

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 101

III. HERE WARD RETURNS TO ENGLAND.

At the time appointed, in the year 1069, Hereward
returned to his native land, bringing with him his com-
panions in arms, the two Siwards, with other Saxons who
had joined him in his exile, and his wife the beautiful
Turfrida. Finding that, since the catastrophe which had
attended his former visit, his paternal estates had remained
unoccupied by the Normans, he proceeded direct to Brunne,
where some of the bravest of his kinsmen and friends were
on the look-out for him ; and he then made the signal
which had been agreed upon, by setting fire to three villas
on the highest part of the Brunneswold. He was soon at
the head of a gallant band of Saxon outlaws, who crowded
to him in the forest, whither he had retired to await the
result of his signal. Hereward's historian has taken no
small pride in recording the names of the most distin-
guished of these brave men who joined the last of their
ancient lords in raising the standard of rebellion against
the Conqueror ; some of which are curiously significant of
the precarious life they led in those troubled days, and of
the acts of prowess which had marked their individual
opposition to the invaders. There was Leofric the Mower
(Moue), so called because being once attacked by twenty
armed men whilst he was mowing alone in the field, with
nothing but his scythe to defend himself, he had defeated
them all, killing several and wounding many. Then there
was another Leofric, named Prat, or the cunning, because,
though often taken by his enemies, he had always found
means to escape after having slain his keepers. With them
also was Wulric the Black, so named because on one occa-

102 ADVENTURES OF

sion he had blackened his face with charcoal, and thus
disguised, had penetrated unobserved among his enemies,
and killed ten of them with his spear before he made his
retreat ; and Wulric Hragra, or the Heron, who, passing
the bridge of Wroxham when four brothers unjustly con-
demned to be hanged were led by that road to the place of
execution, had ventured to expostulate with their guards,
but the latter called him in mockery a heron, and he
rushed upon them, slew several, drove away the rest, and
delivered their prisoners. With men like these were joined
not a few of the sons of the old Saxon nobility, who had
been, like Here ward, deprived of their patrimony, and
who, like him in this also, disdained to bow the knee to
the tyrant.

These, however, were not the only Saxons who were
then in arms, for at this moment a show of patriotic resist-
ance had manifested itself in various parts of England.
Among others, the monks of Ely, with their abbot Thurstan,
fortified themselves in their almost inaccessible island among
the wild fens, and were there joined not only by many of
the Saxon ecclesiastics and nobles, among whom were arch-
bishop Stigand, (whom the Normans had deposed from the
metropolitan see of Canterbury,) bishop Egelwin, (who had
been similarly deprived of his see of Lincoln,) and the earls
Edwin, Morcar, and Tosti, but their strength was also re-
cruited by a party of Danes who came to their assistance.
The isle of Ely was soon known as the camp of refuge, and
many of the injured Saxons made their way to it through
the wild country round, alone or in small parties, for the
Normans began to watch the approaches. Its defenders, as
soon as they heard of the arrival of Hereward, sent a depu-
tation to urge him to unite his strength with theirs, and he

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 103

determined to abandon the open country, and to join in
the incipient rebellion in the marshes. At this time he
appears to have been in the heart of Lincolnshire, for we
are told that he took ship with his followers at Bardney,
whence they descended the river Witham towards the sea.
The powerful Norman earl of Warren, who had obtained
extensive possessions in Lincolnshire, and who hated Here-
ward for the slaughter of one of his kinsmen, had been
made acquainted with Hereward's proceedings by spies,
had set parties of Norman^ soldiers in ambush along the
banks of the river to intercept him when he landed. The
Saxons were involved in continual skirmishes with these
assailants, but it was not until they had accidentally cap-
tured one of them, that Hereward was made aware of the
earl of Warren's plots, and of his intention to come the
next day with a powerful body of knights and others to
Herbeche, where probably he knew that the narrowness of
the river, or some other cause, would enable him to stop
the further progress of the outlaws. But Hereward suc-
ceeded in reaching the spot before the appointed time,
passed the dangerous part of the river with his ships, and
landed his men on the shore opposite to Herbeche, and
concealed the greater part of them among the brushwood,
whilst himself, with three knights and four archers, well
armed, stood on the bank of the river. The earl of Warren
and his men arrived soon afterwards on the opposite bank,
and a Norman soldier, perceiving the Saxons, shouted to
them across the river, reproaching them with their lawless
lives, and threatening them with the vengeance of the
Conqueror, who, he said, was bringing a mighty army to
drive them out of their stronghold. One of Hereward's
companions gave the Norman a scornful answer, and told

104 ADVENTURES OF

him to inform his master that he might now have a chance
of seeing the man he was so diligently seeking. The earl
of Warren, hearing the noise, came down to the waterside,
and understanding that it was Hereward who stood before
him, ordered his men to swim across the water and attack
him. But the Normans expostulated, for they knew well
that the Saxon chief would not be there unprepared to
receive them ; and the earl was venting his rage in empty
threats and reproaches, when Hereward suddenly snatched
a bow from the hand of one of his companions, and bend-
ing forward a little, let fly an arrow, which struck with
so much force on the breast of the Norman chief, that,
although the point was turned by his armour, he fell almost
senseless from his horse, and was carried off" by his attend-
ants. The Saxons went on board their ships, continued
their voyage, and were received with joyful acclamations
in the isle of Ely.

Hereward was now the leader of most of the hostile
expeditions undertaken by the Saxons of the isle of Ely.
Shortly before his return to England, his friend Brand,
abbot of Peterborough, died, and thus escaped the wrath
of king William, whom he had offended by several acts of
patriotism. A Norman ecclesiastic, named Turold, or
Thorold, who had gained an unenviable notoriety by his
tyranny over the Anglo-Saxon clergy, was appointed in his
place. The Norman abbot was escorted to Peterborough
by a military guard. But Hereward, after making a vain
attempt to induce the monks of Peterborough to follow
the example of resistance set them by the monks of Ely,
determined that the stranger should at all events find an
empty house. Turold made a halt " with his Frenchmen"
at Stamford, in order to obtain intelligence of the kind of

HERE WARD THE SAXON. 105

reception he was likely to meet with, and thither came the
sacristan of Peterborough, named Yware, who, hearing of
the approach of the outlaws, seized upon the more port-
able of the treasures confided to his care, which, as it
happened, were not the most valuable, and fled. Here-
ward and his men arrived in their ships at Peterborough
early in the morning of the second of June, 10/0, and
demanded an entrance into the monastery ; but finding
that the monks had shut the gates, and were unwilling to
admit them, they set fire to the adjoining houses, and
burnt all the monastery, except the church, and nearly all
the town . Then, to use the words of the Saxon Chronicle,
which gives the best account of the attack upon Peter-
borough, " they went into the church, climbed up to the
holy rood, took there the crown from our Lord's head,
which was of pure gold, and also the footstool which was
under his feet, which was likewise of solid gold ; they
mounted up into the steeple, and brought down the mantle
which was hid there, which was all of gold and silver;
they took there two golden shrines and nine shrines of
silver ; they took also fifteen great crosses, some of gold
and some of silver ; and they took there so much gold and
silver, and such great treasure in money and garments and
books, that no man can count it. They said they did this
to have security of the church." The monks, however,
delivered up the church — or rather the bare walls — to
Turold, and the Saxons looked upon their treasures as for-
feited, and divided their booty with their Danish auxili-
aries, who, satisfied with what they had gained, left the
island and sailed for their native country.

5§

106 ADVENTURES OF

IV. THE SIEGE OF ELY.

King William was gradually approaching his army to
invest the fen country which surrounded the Isle of Ely,
and he began the attack at a moment when the insurgents
had been weakened by many causes. Earl Morcar, trusting
to the insidious promises of the Norman, had ventured to
his court, and had been treacherously committed to prison;
earl Edwin, in an attempt to raise an insurrection in the
North, had been betrayed into the hands of his enemies,
and mercilessly slain ; and the Danish allies had departed
with their booty. The king established the main body of
his army at a place called Abrehede, where the waters and
fens were narrowest, and there, with immense labour, a
long, narrow road, or bridge of timber, was constructed,
on which the Normans were to march over the more diffi-
cult part of the intervening space. But the soldiers rushed
forward hastily and incautiously, allured by the reports of
the great riches which had been gathered together by the
outlaws ; and suddenly the frail structure gave way under
the weight of man and armour, and the Norman warriors
were plunged headlong into the marshes, where they were
quickly borne down by the weight of their arms. In this
manner perished the greater part of the besieging army.
The king was an eye-witness of the disaster; and he sorrow-
fully relinquished his enterprise, leaving, however, strong
garrisons on the border of the fens, to protect the country
from the incursions of the outlaws. The destruction of the
Norman army was long remembered in the neighbourhood ;
and the writer of Hereward's life assures us that he had fre-

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 10/

quently seen the fishermen drag up the remains of the vic-
tims, still covered with their rusty armour.

One Norman knight alone reached the Isle of Ely, and
he was immediately siezed and carried to Hereward, who
received him kindly, kept him a few days, showing him
the strength and resources of the place, and the mode of
life of its defenders, and then gave him his liberty, on con-
dition that he should give the king a faithful account of all
he had seen. The knight strictly fulfilled his promise ;
and the Norman monarch was beginning to talk of offering
favorable terms to the Saxon insurgents. But the earl of
Warren, and another powerful baron, Ivo Taillebois, inter-
fered. The latter was lord of Spalding, and the chief sup-
porter of his neighbour, the abbot of Peterborough. He
was one of those who had most distinguished themselves by
their tyranny over the Saxons, and was proportionally hated
by them. The opinion of these two barons was that of
the courtiers in general, who feared to lose the lands of the
outlaws which they occupied ; and they urged the king to
another attempt. Ivo Taillebois said, "I know an old
woman who would be a match for all the Saxons in the
island, and it woidd surely be disgraceful for a king to re-
treat without having effected his object." Being required
to explain his meaning, Ivo stated that he knew a certain
sorceress whose enchantments were so powerful, that he
doubted not she would be able to paralyse the force of the
islanders, and make them an easy prey to the besiegers.
It was finally agreed that the woman should be sent for,
and that they should try the effects of her incantations.

Meanwhile the Normans watched more and more closely
all the approaches to the island, and the outlaws could no
longer obtain intelligence of the designs of their enemies,

108 ADVENTURES OF

although it was darkly rumoured that they were to be at-
tacked in some new and extraordinary manner. At length
Hereward determined to go to the court in disguise. He
took with him his favorite mare, named Swallow, which,
though nearly as swift as the bird from which it was named,
was alean-looking, ill-favoured animal; and, dressedin coarse
and dirty garments, with his hair and beard close shaven,
he made his way through the fens unobserved. The first
person he met was a potter, and a new scheme immediately
suggested itself to him. Hereward bargained for the pots,
provided himself with all things appertaining to the trade,
and proceeded to Brandune, where the king was then hold-
ing his court, offering his ware for sale by the way. At
Brandune Hereward took up his lodging at the very house
in which dwelt the witch who was to be employed against
the outlaws, with a companion who followed the same dark
practices as herself. At night Hereward overheard the two
women discoursing of the manner in which they were to
proceed against the islanders. Their conversation was
carried on in the Norman language, and with the less re-
serve, because they little thought that an English dealer in
pots knew any other language but his native Saxon. At
midnight they left the house and proceeded to a fountain
which flowed towards the east. There they performed
mysterious ceremonies, addressing questions to the foun-
tain, and then listening as for an answer. Hereward had
stolen after them unseen ; and more than once he was
tempted to draw his sword, and put them to death in the
midst of their unhallowed observances, but he thought
that by forbearance he should obtain further information.
In the morning he took his station in the vicinity of the
court.

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 109

"Pots! pots !" cried Hereward sturdily ; "good pots and
urns! here is your excellent pottery!" and the servants of
the king's kitchen, who were in want of these articles,
called him in.

At this moment the reeve of the town came on some
business to the kitchen, and saw the merchant of pots.
" It is strange," said the reeve, "but I never saw one man
resemble another so closely in shape and stature, as this
potter resembles the outlaw Hereward, barring his dress
and trade."

All who heard this crowded round the potter to see a
man like Hereward; and he was led into the king's hall to
be exhibited to the knights and courtiers. One of them
asked if he knew the wicked outlaw whom he resembled ?
"Know him," said he, "alas! I know him too well.
Would that he were now here that I might be avenged upon
him ! It was but the other day that he robbed me of a
cow and four sheep, which were all I had in the world,
except my mare and these pots, to support myself and two
children."

It was now the hour of repast, and the servants of the
king's kitchen began to attend to their different functions.
After dinner, however, tbe king being gone to follow the
chace in the surrounding woods, the servants made merry,
and brought forth wine and ale, and conspired to make the
potter drunk; but in this they reckoned without their
host, for a Saxon hero was the last man in the world to be
outdone in drinking. The consequence was that, while
Hereward remained perfectly master of himself, the cooks
and kitchen-men became more and more uproarious, until
they seized upon their guest, were proceeding to shave his
crown like that of a monk, and proposed to make him

110 ADVENTURES OF

dance blindfold in the middle of his pottery. Hereward
showed resistance, and one of the cooks struck him with
his hand. The spirit of the Saxon fired up, he struck the
assailant to the ground with his fist, and seizing a weapon
which was laying near, a scuffle ensued, in which several
of the servants of the kitchen were killed, or severely
wounded, before the potter was secured and shut up in an
adjoining room. One of the guards then came with fetters
to bind the prisoner; but Hereward rushed upon him,
snatched the sword from his hand, slew all who opposed
his progress, and after leaping over one or two hedges and
ditches of defence, reached the outer court, mounted his
mare, which he had left there, and darted off towards the
woods, closely pursued by as many of the guards and others
as had been able to get horses. But away went Hereward
through wood and over plain, distancing all his pursuers
but one, who followed him to the isle of Someresham,
where he found himself at the mercy of the man he was
pursuing, and was deprived of his arms, and only allowed
to escape with his life that he might bear to the Norman
king a message from Hereward the Saxon.

Innumerable were the tricks employed by Hereward to
deceive the enemies of bis country, who in the hot season,
when the fens were driest, made their approaches again
towards the island. The king led his army to a place
which the old writer calls Alreheche, and there began to
erect immense works of timber and earth, from which to
conduct his hostile operations. For this purpose he ordered
all the fishermen of the fens to assemble with their boats
at Cotingelade, there to receive his orders. When these
works were far advanced towards completion, Hereward
one day, disguised as a fisherman, came in his boat with

HE RE WARD THE SAXON. ] 1 1

the rest. At night the workmen departed, and the army
retired from its labours. But when darkness had set in,
the alarm was suddenly given that the fortifications were
on fire, and in a few hours the labour of many days was
utterly destroyed. The historian observes, drily, that
where Hereward was busy in the day it would have been
strange if some mischief had not happened before night.

The witch was at last brought forward to terrify the out-
laws by her incantations. An elevated frame of timber
had been placed in an advanced position among the fens,
the top of which commanded a distant view of the island
and monastery ; and the Norman soldiers were placed
among the reeds and brushwood ready to rush forward
when the sorceress had done her part. She was placed on
the frame, and began by uttering curses against the island
and all its inhabitants ; these were followed by a multitude
of strange ceremonies and exorcisms, accompanied by
fearful contortions and postures. All these were to be re-
peated thrice ; and she was beginning the third time, when
the outlaws, who had been gradually advancing under
shelter of the surrounding thickets, set fire to the dry reeds
in front and rear. The flames rushed forth on every side
with a fearful crackling. The witch sprang in terror from
the scaffold, and was killed by the fall ; and hundreds of
devoted Normans perished in the fire or in the water.
Hereward and his men pursued singly or in parties those
who escaped ; and the result of this second attack upon
the island was more disastrous to the Normans even than
the first. The king himself was among the fugitives ; and
when he reached his tent, a Saxon arrow was found fixed
in his armour. In his despair and rage he cursed the ad-
visers who had led him to put his trust in sorcery.

112 ADVENTURES OF

V. — HEREWARD QUITS THE ISLAND.

In 1072, the Isle of Ely, defended by its surrounding
marshes and the bravery of the Saxon outlaws who had
fortified it against the Norman invaders, had already held
out nearly three years against the repeated attacks of king
William's armies. Treason, however, at last prevailed,
where open force had been unsuccessful. The monks of
Ely, wearied with the uneasy mode of life to which they
were exposed, and alarmed still more by the intelligence
that all the possessions of their monastery had been confis-
cated, entered into secret negotiations with the king, and
it was agreed that they should admit the Normans into the
monastery, which was the outlaws' chief fortress, while the
Saxon insurgents were dispersed in search of provisions
and adventures. It was probably their intention to capture
Hereward, the great leader of the Saxon patriots ; but he
was secretly informed of the treacherous plan at the moment
of its execution, and assembling as many of his men as
were at hand, he threatened to burn both town and mo-
nastery, (as he had previously done Peterborough), unless
the latter was immediately delivered into his hands. This
bold demonstration was, however, too late, for the Normans
had already gained the monastery, and the town was spared
at the intercession of some of Hereward' s friends. The
Saxons made a desperate resistance, until, overpowered by
numbers, a large part of them were put to the sword. One
of the old chroniclers tells us that no less than a thousand
of the insurgents were slaughtered on this occasion. Of
those who were taken alive, many had their hands cut off,
and their eyes put out, and were, in this condition, set at

HEREWAKD THE SAXON. 113

liberty. Such of their leaders as fell into the hands of the
conqueror were imprisoned in some of the strong castles
which he had built in different parts of the island.

In one object, however, the Normans were unsuccessful.
Hereward, with only six of his companions, bravely fought
their way through the enemy, and escaped into the marshes,
where their pursuers were unwilling to follow. The Saxon
fishermen of the fens were necessary to the Norman army
which besieged the marshes, because they supplied it with
much of its provisions, and they were, therefore, allowed
to follow their occupation in peace ; although they were
devoted to the cause of their countrymen. One of these
received the seven fugitives in his boat, concealed them at
the bottom under a heap of straw and reeds, and proceeded
with his cargo of fish to a point occupied by one of the nu-
merous guards of Normans placed around the fens to hinder
communication between the isle of Ely and the surrounding
country. The fisherman and his companions were well
known to the Norman soldiers, who were commanded by
a knight of rank, and their arrival caused no suspicion.
While they were occupied in landing the provisions,
Hereward and his followers escaped from the boat, and
concealed themselves in the adjacent bushes, until the
Normans, in the greater security, because they supposed
that the island and its defenders were already in the power
of the invaders, had seated themselves negligently at their
evening meal. Hereward fell suddenly upon them in this
defenceless condition ; all who resisted were slain ; a few
made their escape ; and the outlaws seized upon their
horses, and thus mounted they proceeded to gather to-
gether their scattered companions, and to raise the standard
of revolt in the wild woodlands which spread over much of

114 ADVENTURES OF

the neighbouring counties of Huntingdon, Northampton,
and Lincoln, and thither repaired such of the outlaws of
Ely as had not been present in the disastrous struggle from
which their chieftain had so narrowly escaped. The first
hamlet they came to increased their number to eighteen ;
by the time they passed Huntingdon, Hereward had col-
lected above one hundred brave men ; and before the sun
arose on the following morning, seven hundred Saxons,
well armed, were assembled in the deep recess of the
Brunneswald, to resist the oppressors of their country.
Their daring exploits, and the devastations they committed
on the property of the Norman intruders, soon proclaimed
to the mortified king that the capture of the Camp of Re-
fuge at Ely had not subdued the spirit against which he
was contending, and he ordered the entire forces of the
counties of Northampton, Cambridge, Lincoln, Leicester,
Huntingdon, and Warwick, to be raised under the com-
mand of Ivo Taillebois and the Norman abbot of Peter-
borough.

Still, however, Hereward continued his desultory war-
fare, sometimes defeating the parties sent in pursuit of
him, and sometimes deceiving them by clever stratagems,
when his companions were not numerous enough to with-
stand them in fight. It is recorded that, among other
tricks, the Saxons had the shoes of their horses frequently
turned backwards, so that when the Norman soldiers fell
into their track, they were sure to take the wrong direc-
tion in the pursuit. In this manner Hereward kept his
enemies constantly on the alert ; and his name was looked
upon with such terror, that it was commonly said that
three Normans would fly at the sight of one of the Saxons ;
and Hereward himself is reported to have beaten singly

, HEREWARD THE SAXON. 115

seven Normans on more occasions than one. His deeds
were the admiration even of his enemies ; some of the
young Norman knights left their families, and took oaths
of fidelity to the Saxon chieftain, in order to be partakers
in his adventures and in his fame.

One day Ivo Taillebois, hearing that Hereward, with no
more than a hundred knights, and about two hundred
footmen, were sojourning in a wood which might be easily
surrounded, joined all the forces he could collect with
those of the abbot Turold, and they went together against
him. Hereward for some time kept his enemies at bay
with his skirmishing parties, but at length he was obliged
to post his small army in the strongest position he could,
and prepare for a general attack from an enemy far supe-
rior in numbers. It was agreed among the Normans that
the abbot of Peterborough, with some of the Normans
of highest rank, should keep guard on the outside of
the wood, whilst Ivo Taillebois, with the larger part of
their army, penetrated into it to attack the outlaws in
their intrenchments. For sometime Hereward withstood
the attack bravely and successfully ; and then suddenly
the Saxons gave way, and made a hasty retreat. The
Normans, exulting in their victory, followed after; but
while they were slowly forcing their way through the
entangled thickets, Hereward and his companions, who
had executed a new stratagem, turned them by a quick
march, fell unexpectedly upon the party placed under the
command of abbot Turold, killed many of them, and
mounting their footmen upon the Norman horses, carried
the abbot and the more wealthy of his companions into
the deep recesses of their forest home, where it was in vain
to pursue them, and they only released their captives on

116 ADVENTURES OF

the payment of heavy ransoms. From the abbot of Peter-
borough, who was an especial object of their hatred, the
outlaws extorted the immense sum at that time, of 30,000
marks of silver.

No sooner had the abbot Turold thus obtained his
liberty, than he showed his eagerness for revenge ; and he
even offered the treasures and possessions of his church to
allure soldiers to join in his design. When Hereward
heard of this, he determined to pay another visit to the
abbey of Peterborough, Equally rapid in conceiving and
executing his plans, he suddenly made his appearance at
night-fall of the very day on which he had received intelli-
gence of Turold' s proceedings. The abbot, fortunately for
himself, escaped, and concealed himself from his pursuers.
But the outlaws burnt the town, which was probably now
inhabited entirely by Normans, and plundered the church
of its treasures. These, however, were restored, in conse-
quence of a dream which Hereward was said to have had
the following night.

Hereward' s next hostile expedition was directed against
the town of Stamford, which had served as a place of
refuge to some of his bitterest enemies. He marched, as
usual, in the night, and his expedition was carried on with
so much silence and secresy, that it was commonly re-
ported and believed that the Saxons were attended on their
way by spirits of the wood, bearing lights visible only to
them, and that their guide was a large white wolf, which
disappeared as the break of day found them at the end of
their journey. The town, taken by surprise, was occupied
without resistance ; and in this instance Hereward exhibited
his generosity by liberating and pardoning his enemies.

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 117

VI. hereward's DEATH,

In the midst of these daring exploits, measures were
suddenly taken to procure a reconciliation between Here-
ward and the Norman king, to which the former listened
less from his despair of now being able to liberate his
country from servitude, than by the persuasions of a beau-
tiful and wealthy widow, with whom he appears to have
carried on an intrigue, and who had great power at court.
We are informed by his biographers that Here ward's first
wife, Turfrida, whom he thus deserted after she had been
his faithful companion and adviser in his misfortunes, was
to be placed as a nun in the abbey of Croyland, that
he was to receive his pardon, quit his lawless life, and be
married to the lady Elfrida, for that was the widow's
name. As the two first conditions were fulfilled, we are
left to suppose that the marriage took place ; but it is said
that he afterwards acknowledged that he was never fortu-
nate in his undertakings after this act of weakness and
ingratitude. He repaired to William's court with forty of
his bravest companions, and was received with marked
attention and favour by the conqueror. Yet the Norman
barons never ceased to regard the Saxon soldiers with envy
and hatred, which sometimes broke out into open broils, in
which the impetuosity of Hereward's temper afforded a
pretext to his enemies, who accused him before the king,
and laid to his charge many crimes of which he appears to
have been innocent, and he was committed to custody at
Bedford, under the charge of Robert de Horepole, where
he remained in chains a whole year.

As many of Hereward's friends and followers as had

118 ADVENTURES OF

remained with him, when they heard of his imprisonment,
again congregated in their old haunts, the woods, and held
secret communion with him by means of his clerk, named
Leofric, who visited his prison in the disguise of a milkman.
At length Leofric brought them intelligence, that on a cer-
tain day Hereward was to be conducted to the castle of
Buckingham, to be delivered to the keeping of his old and
greatest enemy, Ivo Taillebois. Having obtained exact
information, by means of spies, of the road by which he
was to be carried, the Saxons placed themselves in ambush
in a wood through which the convoy was to pass, sud-
denly attacked Hereward' s guards, who were defeated, after
a desperate struggle, and the hero was delivered from his
chains by his old and faithful followers. Robert de Hore-
pole, who had been an indulgent keeper to Hereward, was
taken prisoner in the scuffle ; but he was immediately
liberated, and, in consequence of his representations to the
king, Hereward was again pardoned, and restored to his
lands.

But although Hereward had thus obtained the peace of
the king, it did not secure him that of the Norman barons,
his enemies, who sought every opportunity of attacking
him. He was more than once besieged in his own house,
and he could not venture abroad without a strong body of
armed soldiers to defend him ; even at his meals, when it
was the hospitable custom to eat with open doors, he was
obliged to place a vigilant watchman at a short distance
from his house, to warn him against the approach of his
foes. One day his chaplain, Ailward, who acted as sentinel
during Hereward' s dinner, fell asleep at his post. A strong
party of Normans and Bretons took advantage of this cir-
cumstance to carry their long-cherished designs into execu-

HEREWARD THE SAXON. 119

tion. Hereward was totally unarmed, but he seized upon
a shield, a lance, and a sword which lay near, and rushed
out with his old companion-in-arms, named Winter, to
meet his assailants. " Traitors," he said, "your king has
given me his peace, yet you come here to take my goods,
and slay me and my friends. Though you have taken me
unarmed, at my dinner, you shall have no cheap bargain
of me !" The first to advance was a knight, who sought
to revenge many of his friends and companions-in-arms
slain by the Saxon insurgents, but Hereward at the first
blow thrust his spear through his body, and he fell a
corpse to the ground. Then the Normans attacked Here-
ward from all sides, with lances and swords ; but, though
soon covered with wounds, he defended himself " like a
wild boar ;" when his spear was broken, he betook himself
to his sword, and when that also was rendered useless, he
took his shield in his right hand and used it as a weapon.
Fifteen of the assailants had already fallen by his arm,
when four of his enemies came behind him, and buried
their spears in his back. Hereward fell upon his knees,
but with his last effort he hurled his shield at a knight of
Brittany, named Ralph de Dol, who was advancing to
attack him. The Saxon hero and the Breton knight fell
dead at the same instant. A Norman cut off Hereward's
head, and carried it away as a trophy. Such was the end
of the last champion of Saxon liberty.* " It was com-

* This account of Hereward's death, which appears to be the most
authentic, is given by Geoffrey Gaymar. The compiler of the Latin
life of the hero leaves us to suppose that he ended his days in peace ;
but other authorities give us better reason for believing that he came
to a violent death. One writer says that he was slain in a broil with
his Norman son-in-law.

120 ADVENTURES OF HEREWARD THE SAXON.

monly supposed," says the writer who has preserved the
account of his death, " that had there been only four such
men, the Normans would have been long ago driven out of
the land."

" Si jura Dieu et sa vertu,
Et li autre qui l'ont veu
Par meinte foiz Font jure,
Que oncques si hardi ne fut trove;
Et s'il eust eu od lui trois,
Mar i eutrassent li Franfois ;
E s'il ne fust issi occis,
Touz les cha^ast fors del pais." — Gaimar.

ESSAY XV.

THE STORY OF EUSTACE THE MONK.

OW volatile a thing is fame ! After a few
ages have passed by, the very name is for-
gotten of the men who have been amongst
the most famous in their day, — whose ac-
tions have been the favorite theme which
the peasant sung over his ale, and whose praise has been
listened to no less attentively in the feudal hall of the
nobles. Who is there now, who has heard of the name of
Eustace the Monk ? Yet, in the beginning of the thir-
teenth century, his name was sufficient to strike terror into
the hearts of our countrymen ; and, after his death, the
supernatural agencies which he was supposed to have used,
raised everywhere their wonder, as much as the right
merry tricks which he played upon his enemies excited
their laughter.

We have asked, Who at the present day has heard of the
name of this man ? It is true, however, that his name was
known to some, — to the few who have spent their lives or
their leisure in searching through old chronicles, and who
have there found mention of this most wicked man (vir
flagitiosissimus) — this traitor and villanous pirate (jproditor
et pirata nequissimus) — this archpirate (archipirata) —
this apostate (apostata) — this oppressor from Spain (ty-

VOL. II. G

122 EUSTACE THE MONK.

r annus ex Hispania) — this ruffian, — all which terms, and
more, are there applied to him. But the ground of these
appellations was unknown, until the life of this extraordi-
nary man, written by a contemporary, in Norman-French
verse,* was discovered in a manuscript of the Royal Library at
Paris, among a collection of metrical fabliaux, romances,
and saints' legends. Among the latter class the present
poem seems to have been placed by those who had pre-
viously made use of the manuscript, and who, therefore,
read no more than the title, Eustace the Monk ; which will
easily account for its having remained so long unknown,
though many poems from the same volume have been
printed.

The history of Eustace presents to us a striking picture
of those scenes of violence and oppression which were
every day witnessed during the baronial wars, and of which
we find many traces in our ancient chronicles.

Eustace was born in the territory of the count of Bou-
logne. While young, he went to Toledo, in Spain, at that
time the grand school of the black art, to be well instructed
in the mysteries of magic ; and the story tells us that he
was there favoured to such a degree, that, in his cave
under the earth, he conversed with the evil one himself, no
small advantage to him that would be a proficient in these
sciences. He remained here, says the story, a winter and
a summer, and became expert in all sorts of conjurations.
Before his departure, in his last conversation with the
devil, the latter gave Eustace a faint outline of his future
destinies, telling him that he should live to make war

* Roman d'Eustache le Moigne, pirate fameux du xiiie siecle, pu-
blie par Francisque Michel. Paris, 1834.

EUSTACE THE MONK. 123

against nobles and princes, and that he should not die
until he had been concerned in many commotions, after
which he should be killed on the sea. From Toledo he
returned directly to St. Saumer, where he became a black
monk.

On his way, it seems that Eustace was accompanied by
three of his fellow-students, one of whom, we learn, was
an old man with a beard, who had spent twenty years at
Toledo, and who was, therefore, a great magician. One
night they came to Montferrant, where Eustace exhibited
some of his devilry. On the morn of his departure, he
ordered a dinner for himself and his companions, at the
tavern of a rich hostess, who, we are told, was very high
and very proud. The character and appearance of the
pilgrims appear not to have gained her good will ; and the
strange coins which they offered her in payment — for they
had none of such as were passable in the district — were
viewed with indignant contempt. Her charge was exor-
bitant, and her treatment of the guests any thing but
gentle. Eustace was piqued, and, by the help of his
magic, he took a ludicrous, but not very decent, revenge
upon the hostess and her townspeople. Some of the latter
followed the pilgrims on their way, against whom the old
man with the beard, whose turn it was now to practise his
art, caused a great river to arise, as large as the Seine, or
the Loire, which followed close at their heels, and drove
them back to the town. Eustace and his companions
pursued them : and, in the town, the old fellow with the
beard, by another conjuration, set the townspeople so by
the ears, that they fought together, tooth and nail, without
any discrimination.

After leaving Montferrant, Eustace and his companions

124 EUSTACE THE MONK.

overtook a carter, who was leading a waggon, drawn by
four horses, and containing a cask of wine, to a distance
of six leagues along the road they were journeying. The
pilgrims demanded of the carter for how much he would
carry them to the town where he was going. " For twelve
pence," was the answer. "Agreed," said Eustace; and,
the bargain being thus concluded, they mounted, and tra-
velled along at a rattling pace. The carter, however, beat
the horses unmercifully : the latter pushed forward at an
uneasy rates, making great leaps, so that the jogging of
the vehicle bruised the nether parts of Eustace in a most
miserable manner. " God send thee evil," exclaimed he
to the carter, " for the villanous pace at which thou art
driving us !" " Good sir," replied the latter, "we have no
time to lose ; I must use all speed, for I think it is already
past noon." To a sepond expostulation, his only answer
was a few more lashes on the backs of the horses, and the
cart was dragged along as violently as before. The old
man with the beard began a new conjuration, and imme-
diately the horses and the cart, instead of proceeding,
seemed to be going backward. The carter, as every carter
would have done, spared neither oath nor whip upon his
beasts ; but all was vain, and at last he was obliged to let
the pilgrims go scot-free, who gladly left him, with their
money in their purses.

Such is the legendary story of our hero previous to the
time of his becoming a monk of St. Saumer. When
Eustace took on himself the religious habit, he laid aside
none of his former unholy practices. The whole abbey
was troubled by his conjurations, and he turned every
thing upside down ; causing the monks, as the story in-
forms us, to fast when they ought to have been eating,

EUSTACE THE MONK. 125

and, when they ought to have worn their shoes, to go
barefoot. A thousand errors he led them into, when they
ought to have been gravely performing the holy sendees.

One day, the father abbot was in his chamber : he had
been bled, and had walked, and a large repast was pre-
pared for his refreshment. There was plenty of pork, and
mutton, and wild geese, and venison. Eustace, who lost
no opportunity of playing his tricks, came to the abbot,
when he was commencing his dinner, offered himself as a
servant, and said that, after he had partaken of his repast,
he would tell him what was his craft. " Thou art a fool,"
replied the abbot ; " may evil fall upon my neck, if thou
shalt not be well beaten to-morrow." " Many a one lives
who has been threatened," said Eustace ; and, leaving the
abbot's room, he went into the kitchen. There, he saw,
first, a pail full of water, which, by his conjurations, be-
came quickly red like blood. Then he seated himself upon
a stool, and, looking round, he saw near him the half of a
pig. In the hearing of all who were present he pronounced
his charms, till the half pig suddenly jumped up, and took
the semblance of an old woman, ugly, and crooked. The
cooks fled, and told what had happened to the abbot, who
ran to the spot, and, when he saw the old wretch, shouted
out, " In the name of St. Peter, fly — fly ! It is certainly
a devil!" The admonition of the father abbot was not
thrown away : the kitchen was quickly cleared ; and Eustace,
having released the pork from his charm, carried it off to
the tavern of a neighbouring innkeeper, an old friend and
pot-companion of his own, with whom he spent the whole
night in eating, drinking, and gambling, —playing away
every thing — even to the pawning of his crucifixes, images,
and monk's books.

126 EUSTACE THE MONK.

We now approach that period of Eustace's life when
began his quarrel with the count of Boulogne, in conse-
quence of which he became an outlaw — a true Robin Hood,
and performed in that character pranks the simple relation
of which would fill a volume. The origin of his disagree-
ment with the count was as follows.

Eustace, it appears, was born at a place called Courset.
His father Bauduins Buskes, was a peer of the Boulonois,
well skilled in law, and an experienced pleader. He had
pleaded a cause in the court against Hainfrois of Heresin-
guehans, the object of which was to deprive that nobleman
of a certain manor ; and, in consequence of some disagree-
ment between them, he had given Hainfrois a blow, which
was revenged by the murder of Bauduins, near Bassinghen.
Eustace, who was now a monk, when he heard of the death
of his father, went to the court to demand justice against
Hainfrois, whom he charged with being the instigator of
the murder. The charge was denied, and the cause was
adjudged to be decided by battle. The pledges and the
hostages were given; and Hainfrois, having sworn that he
was upwards of sixty years of age, and his statement being
confirmed on the oath of twenty-nine of his peers, it was
allowed that one of his relations, or retainers, might fight
for him. Accordingly, one of his vassals, Eustace of Mara-
quise, accepted the challenge— a large, bold, strong, and
handsome man. On the other part, the challenge was
accepted by Manesiers, a nephew of Bauduins Busques, a
large bachelor, handsome, and strong, who charged Hain-
frois with the death of his uncle. The battle, which was
fought at Etaples, was fiercely contested, and ended by
the death of Manesiers.

Meanwhile, Eustace had been to the count of Boulogne,

EUSTACE THE MONK. 12/

had renounced all intention of standing by the event of
the combat, and had declared that he would agree to no
reconciliation until he had revenged the death of his
father. The monk, however, was allowed to take the rank
to which the death of his father entitled him : he was a
seneschal of the Boulonois, a peer, and had all the share
in the government, which, as such, belonged to him. But
Hainfrois never ceased to slander him to the duke, till the
latter called Eustace before him, and demanded of him
why he had retained the dignities which he held. " I am
here," was the reply, " ready to give an account of every
thing, when you have summoned me to answer the charge
before your peers and your barons : I am one of the peers
of the Boulonois/' "You shall come to Hardelot," said
the count, "to answer to the charge there, where you dare
not make a false statement." " It is treason," cried Eustace :
" you wish to throw me in prison ;" and he instantly
left the place. The count confiscated his property, and
burnt his garden, for which Eustace swore that he would
take an ample revenge.

One day, soon after this, Eustace the Monk came to two
mills which the count had erected near Boulogne. He
found in one of them a miller, whom he compelled to go
immediately to the festival which was that day held to
celebrate the nuptials of Simon de Boulogne. " Tell them,"
he said, "that Eustace the Monk is come to give them
some light, that they may not eat in the dark. I'll set fire
to the mills, and give them a couple of bright candles."
When the miller had delivered his message, the count
jumped from his seat, the alarm-bell was rung, and both
mayor and provost prepared to follow the outlaw ; but the
mills were burnt, and Eustace escaped. Thus commenced

128 EUSTACE THE MONK.

the hostilities of Eustace the Monk against his enemy, the
count of Boulogne.

Eustace was at Clairmarais, and learned there that the
count was on his way to St. Omers. He dressed himself
in the garb of a monk, took with him two monks of the
abbey, and, all three being mounted, rode forth till they
met the count between two valleys. The count descended
at one of his houses ; and, after salutation on each side,
Eustace rode up to him, and said, " Sire, for the mercy of
God, we pray you to lay aside your anger against Eustace
the Monk."

" Say no more," replied the count : "let me but get hold
of him, and I'll skin him alive. The scoundrel, in the dis-
guise of a pilgrim, came and burnt two of my mills ; and
now he makes open war upon me. I'll watch him well ;
and, if I catch him, he shall die a foul death : he shall be
hanged, burnt, or drowned."

Eustace answered: "By my robe! there would then be
peace. But Eustace is a monk, and you are count of
Boulogne : it is, therefore, fit that you should show mercy
to him. I pray you, sire, that you lay aside your anger,
and he shall be your liege. Sire, be reconciled to him —
mercy on the sinner."

" Hold thy tongue," said the count, "and let me hear
no more. Get thee gone ; I care not for thy preaching.
For the love of Eustace the Monk, I will put no trust in
any of thine order. By the bowels of St. Marie ! I believe
that this monk is watching me now : there is not such a
villanous scoundrel in the world. I fear greatly that he
will enchant me. Dan Monk, what name bearest thou?"

" They call me brother Simon : I am cellarer of Clair-
marais. Eustace, with twenty-nine others, all armed in

EUSTACE THE MONK. 129

iron, came to the abbey yesterday, and prayed the father
abbot to seek a reconciliation with yon."

" Let not your abbot be so bold," answered the count,
" as to give harbour to this fellow, or I will come and
cut him to pieces. I'll shave him, both head and neck.
Where wast thou born, dan Monk ?"

" Sire, at Lens, where I lived twenty years."

" By my faith," said the count of Boulogne, " thou
resemblest much Eustace himself, in figure, in body, in
look, and in stature : thou hast his eyes, his mouth, and
his nose. But thou hast a broad crown, red shoes, a white
gown, and a discoloured face, I would keep you all three
as pledges, were it not purely for the love of God. Turn
away, and get thee gone !"

The two monks had witnessed the interview with fear
and trepidation. While Eustace was still present, the
count made all the peers of the Boulonois swear three
times, that they would not on any consideration fail to
deliver up to him his enemy. A sergeant suddenly came
forward, and said, " Sire, why do you delay ? Eustace sits
by your side : seize him, and make him discover himself.
I tell you truly it is he."

" I understand the scoundrel," said William of Mont-
quarrel : " Dan Simon, the cellarer, is the man. I knew
him as well as I know a penny."

"No," said Hugh of Gaune, "Eustace is not half so green."

" Moreover," said Hugh of Belin, "this fellow was born
at Lens, near Henuin."

" By my faith," said Aufrans of Caen, " Eustace is nei-
ther green nor blue."

" No," said Gualo de la Capide ; "he is all red in the
chops."

6§

130 EUSTACE THE MONK.

The two monks trembled ; but Eustace coolly replied to
all these remarks, "People resemble each other." He then
took his leave of the count, and joined his two companions.
When the count and his party had entered the house,
Eustace went to the stable, ordered a sergeant who was
there to saddle the count's best horse, whose name was
Moriel, mounted it, and rode off at full speed, telling the
sergeant that he was Eustace the Monk. " Hallo, hallo !
Saint Mary!" cried the sergeant; and the count and his
retainers rushed out to see what was the matter. " A
scoundrel of a monk has ridden away mounted upon
Moriel," said the sergeant.

" See !" said the count ; " by the neck ! by the bowels !
by but hasten to the rescue !"

" No," said the sergeant who had before advised the
count to seize him ; " he will never be taken while he is
seated upon Moriel ; for Moriel flies like the wind, and he
is now spurred on by the devil himself. I know it well."

"Fool that I was!" said the count, "why did I not
secure him while he was sitting beside me?"

The count, however, ordered his company to mount;
and the whole party, knights and sergeants, galloped off
to the forest in search of the depredator. But Eustace
had gone to a small hamlet, where he put Moriel in a place
of safety and secrecy ; and then changed his habit, putting
a linen cap on his head, and carrying a club on his shoulder.
In this disguise he took charge of a flock of sheep that
were feeding on a heath over which he expected that the
count would pass. Presently the count appeared.

"Varlet," said he, "which way went a white monk on
a black horse?"

" Sire, he went all along yon vale, on a horse as black
as a berrv."

ELSTACE THE MONK. 131

The count speedily followed the route pointed out by the
shepherd, and soon overtook, not Eustace, but the two
monks who had been his companions. After the count
and his attendants had passed by, Eustace left his sheep,
and returned into the forest.

While Eustace was thus wandering in the forest, he
espied the baggage of the count, conducted by a boy on
horseback. Eustace seized the lad, cut off his tongue, and
then sent him after his master ; who, when he saw this
example of Eustace's cruelty, and learned that he had
plundered his baggage, returned hastily by the way he
had come, and hunted the outlaw vigorously through the
forest of Hardelot.

Here Eustace narrowly escaped falling a prey to the
treachery of one of his own retainers. He had two lads,
whom he had brought up from their youth, and who now
served him as spies, keeping watch in different parts of the
wood, both by day and by night. One of these spies came
to the count, and offered to discover to him the hiding-
place of his master. The count promised to make the
betrayer a page of his court, if by his means he should
succeed in apprehending the outlaw. " Sire," said the
lad, " he is sitting at his dinner : follow me quickly, and
you shall have him."

" Proceed," replied the count, " and I will follow at a
little distance."

But the other spy had discovered the treachery of his
companion, and had apprized Eustace of the plot which
was formed against him. Eustace hung his faithless ser-
vant on a tree, before the count arrived to rescue him, and
then, mounting Moriel, soon left his enemies far behind
him. But, though Eustace himself escaped, the count

132 El stace tiii; monk.

overtook two of his sergeants, and, by way of retaliation,
put out their eyes. Eustace swore by the Holy Virgin
that he would have the feet of four of the count's men, in
revenge for the four eyes which the count had taken.
And, in fact, while Eustace was watching the high road,
he discovered five of the count's sergeants, who were lead-
ing prisoners the two monks of Clairmarais. He liberated
the monks, cut off the feet of four of the sergeants, and
sent the fifth to carry the tidings to the count, who, in his
rage, swore by the belly and bowels, and sent immediately
twenty knights to scour the woods in search of him.

While the twenty knights were one day searching for him
in the forest, Eustace dressed himself in the garb of a
peasant, with a coarse smock thrown over him, and came
to them with a mournful visage. " God save you, my
masters!" said he ; and they returned the salutation civilly,
asking, " Whence comest thou, and whither art thou
going?" "My lords," said he, " I seek the count of Bou-
logne, to complain of a rascally monk who has robbed me
in his territory. He said that he was at war with the
count, and he has taken from me what was worth a hun-
dred marks. Tell me, my lords, without delay, where shall
I find the count?" One of them replied, "At Hardelot :
go thither, by all means." Eustace went to Hardelot,
entered the hall where the count was at dinner, and said,
" May God be here, that he may revenge me on the devil !
My lords, which is the count of Boulogne?" "There he
is," said a sergeant. Eustace approached him. " Sire,"
said he, "mercy ! I am a -citizen of Andeli : I come from
Bruges, in Flanders ; and I brought with me shoes of say,
and thirty pounds in money. A mad, hairbrained fellow,
cropped on the crown like a priest, who appeared to be a

EUSTACE THE MONK. 133

monk, said he was one of your enemies, and he has taken
from me everything I had, even my horse and my robe.
I come to lay my case before you, and to ask for justice.
He is not far from this place. The scoundrel of a monk
dressed me in this smock, and then sent me to you. I
know that he is near, for I saw him _flitfr ™™» thick
bushes." — " What kind of a man is he Vs said the count ;
" black or white, great or small?" " He is about my own
size," said Eustace. The count arose from the table, armed
six of his retainers, and rode with Eustace into the forest ;
who led him to a place where twenty-nine of his own men
lay in ambush, and there demanded of him peace and par-
don. The count refused his request ; and was allowed to
depart, since, as Eustace said, he had come thither under
his protection.

Many a trick did Eustace play upon his enemies. One
day, as the count, with nine attendants, was riding to
Hardelot, Eustace, with ten companions, followed him in
the garb of pilgrims. "When the count descended from
his horse, Eustace came to him, and said, " Sire, we are
penitents from the apostle of Rome: many injuries we have
done to men, of which, by God's grace, we have repented.
We are now in great need." The count gave him three-
pence, and entered the castle with his followers, leaving
the ten horses without. Eustace took them all, set fire to
the town, and fled, leaving a sergeant to tell the count that
this had been all done by the penitent on whom he had
bestowed his threepence. " By my faith !" said the couDt,
" I was a fool not to seize these rascals ! these vagabonds !
these false pilgrims! If I desired to leave the castle, I
have not a horse to mount. This monk is truly a devil.
If I had him, he should rue it, I warrant me." Eustace

134 EUSTACE THE MONK.

met with a merchant, sent him with one of the horses to
the count, telling him that it was the tithe of his gains.

Another time, a spy informed the count that Eustace
was in the forest. The count assembled his men, fol-
lowed the spy on foot, and lay in ambush in a ditch.
One of Eustace's spies, however, had seen them, and
carried immediate information of their movements to his
master. Eustace went to a collier, who was carrying
charcoal on an ass, blackened his face and neck and hands
with the charcoal, and put on the collier's frock and cap,
for which he gave him his own robe. Thus equipped,
he set out for Boulogne with his ass and burden. When
he came to the spot where the count lay in wait, Eustace
cried out to him, " My lord, what are you doing there ?"
"What concern is it of yours, sir villan?" was the reply.
" By St. Omer !" said Eustace, " I will go and tell the
count how the men of Eustace the Monk are always injur-
ing and insulting us. I dare not bring out my beast to
carry my charcoal to sell, but Eustace must rob me of it.
Meanwhile he is sitting at his ease by a good fire, devour-
ing meat and venison ; for he has burnt all my charcoal,
which has cost me so much labour in its preparation."
" Is he near this place?" asked the count. "Close by.
Go straight along this path, and you will find him."
Eustace goaded his beast onwards, and the count entered
the forest, where he found the collier dressed in the gar-
ments of the monk. The count's men beat and insulted
the collier much; for they thought, sure enough, it was
Eustace they had caught at last, till he cried out, " Mercy,
my lords, mercy ! why do you beat me ? You may take
my coat, if you will, for it is all the property I have. It
is the robe of Eustace the Monk, who has gone with my

EUSTACE THE MONK. 135

ass and charcoal towards Boulogne, his hands, face, and
neck blackened, and my cap on his head. He took my
frock, and left me his robe of silk." The count, in a
rage, hurried back in pursuit of Eustace, who, in the
meanwhile, had washed his face, and, meeting with a potter,
had exchanged his ass and charcoal for pots and jugs,
and his collier's garments for those of the potter. Eus-
tace was marching along, and crying lustily, "Pots, pots!"
when the count and his men suddenly issued from a thicket,
and asked him if he had seen a collier riding along that
way. "Sire," said Eustace, "he is gone straight to Bou-
logne, with an ass laden with charcoal." The count and
his party put spurs to their horses, and overtook the col-
lier, whom they immediately began to beat and insult;
and, tying his feet and hands, they put him upon a horse
with his face towards the tail. The man began to roar
and shout. "My lords," he said, "I pray you, for God's
sake, have mercy upon me ! Why have you taken me ?
If I have done wrong, I am willing to make amends."
"Aha, aha! you vagabond !" said the count: "you think
to escape again. In due time I'll have you hanged, safely
enough." A knight, however, who had often seen the
potter, and chanced now to look at him, said, " What devil
has made thee a collier 1 Thou wast formerly a potter.
No man can ever thrive who has so many trades." The
potter then told how he had exchanged Ins ware with a
collier, bad luck to him ! and how the latter went towards
the wood, crying, " Pots, pots !" " Hallo ! " cried the
count ; " quick to the wood : hunt it well, and bring me
every one you find there." And so they liberated the
collier, and again entered the forest.

Eustace, in the meantime, had thrown his pots into a

136 EUSTACE THE MONK.

marsh, and had concealed himself in the nest of a kite,
where he mimicked the voice of a nightingale.* As soon
as he first saw the count passing, he cried, " Ochi ! ochi !
ochi! ochi!" (t. e. kill! kill! kiU! kill!) "I will kill
him," said the count, "by St. Richier, if I lay hands upon
him." "Fier! fier!" (strike! strike!) cried Eustace the
Monk. "By my faith, I will," said the count: " I'll strike
him so that he shall never molest me again." Eustace
waited a few moments, and then cried, "Non l'ot ! si ot!
non l'ot! si ot!" (he has it not! he has! he has it not!
he has !) " Yea, by my faith, he has," said the count of
Boulogne : "he has taken all my good horses." " Hui!
hui!" (to-day! to-day!) cried Eustace again. "You say
right," said the count; "to-day it shall be; I will kill
him with my own hands if I meet with him. He is no
fool, I see, who listens to the counsel of a nightingale ; for
this nightingale has taught me how to take vengeance
upon mine enemy. He says well that I must strike him
and kiU him."

Then the count hunted sedulously after Eustace. First
were caught four monks, who were immediately thrown into
prison. After them were sent to prison four pedlars and
a pig ; next three men who carried fowls to sell, and two
men who drove asses ; then six fishermen and their fishes ;
and after them four clerks and an archpriest : so that by
the end of the day there had been taken more than forty
persons, who were all brought for examination before the
count. Meanwhile Eustace entered the town in the dis-
guise of a woman, stole two of the count's horses, and
threw the sergeant, who had the care of them into a bog.

* It will be observed tbat the French words used by Eustace re-
semble very closely the notes of a nightingale.

EUSTACE THE MONK. 137

On another occasion, when the count of Boulogne, with
Philip king of France, and the prince royal, and all his
host, were passing towards Gerros, the king with a fair
company rested during the night at La Capiele, and near
him was assembled his host at Sainte- Marie -au-Bois.
Eustace, who haunted the neighbourhood with his men,
first plundered and stripped a burgess of Corbye, and
afterwards slew one of the king's knights. The king com-
plained bitterly to the count, who recounted to him how
he had been constantly foiled in his attempts to take this
offender. The king went from La Capiele to Sangatte ;
and on his return the rearguard of his host was formed by
the count and his men. While the count was at his post,
information was brought to him that Eustace lay in a small
town near the road on which they were journeying. The
count hastened to the place ; but Eustace, having been in-
formed of his danger, went out of the town, and changed
clothes with a countryman who was making a hedge.
Shortly after this, the count issued from an adjoining
valley, and came to Eustace, who was working at the
hedge. " Villan," said he, " is Eustace the monk in
this town?" "No," he replied; "he has just fled in
the direction between you and the king's army. Follow
quickly, and you will overtake him." The count pursued
in the direction pointed out to him ; and Eustace, whose
men were concealed in the neighbourhood, carried off five
knights, six palfreys, and five war-horses, from the rear of
his troop. The knights he took to dine with him in the
forest ; and, to his surprise, he discovered that one of
them was Hainfrois, his mortal enemy. Hainfrois, of
course, expected no mercy ; but after dinner Eustace sent

138 EUSTACE THE MONK.

him back to the count, to tell him who was the labourer
that he had seen making the hedge.

The count immediately returned, and Eustace had re-
course to another stratagem. He equipped himself as a
leper, with cup, crutch, and clapper ; and, when the count
passed, he began to rattle his clapper, by which he gained
in charity from the count and his knights twenty-eight
pence. At a short distance in the rear, a boy was leading
one of the count's finest horses. Eustace knocked him
down, mounted the saddle, and galloped away, leaving the
lad to tell it to the count, who, almost mad with rage,
turned again to pursue him.

Eustace adopted a new disguise. He presented himself
as a cripple, having tied up his leg, and bound about his
thigh a piece of cow's liver, with a band all stained with
blood ; and in this plight he hobbled along, supported by
a stake. The count, with all his retinue, knights and
sergeants, were in a minster, and the prior was chanting
the mass when Eustace entered, told the count his disease,
and prayed his charity. The count gave him twelvepence.
Then he went to the prior where he was receiving the
offering, and showing him his leg, " See, sir," said he,
" in what a lamentable condition I am : my thigh is all
rotten. Now, for the sake of God and St. Mary, pray
these knights to give me some of their pence that I may
get it healed." " Willingly," said the prior ; " but wait
till the offering is ended." The prior was as good as his
word ; and Eustace gained eight shillings by the stratagem.
Then he left the minster, mounted the horse of the count,
and dashed away, with his stake hanging by the side of
his leg. The boys shouted lustily, " Halloo ! the cripple

EUSTACE THE MONK. 139

has stolen a horse ! see how he spurs along the valley !"
And every knight and sergeant rushed from the minster ;
but the thief had gained too much the start to allow of
any hope that he might be overtaken.

Once, when he had been tracked over the snow by the
count, and escaped by the stratagem of having his horse
shoed backwards, the count discovered the trick from the
smith who had shoed his horse, and pursued towards a
monastery, where Eustace had taken shelter, and where he
was then dining. It happened that three carpenters were
at work on some new buildings. As the count passed by,
one of his sergeants rode up to the monastery, and Eustace,
who had taken the disguise of a carpenter, came out to
meet him. " Bless you, sir ! " said Eustace : " what men
are these who are passing by ?" " They are outlaws," said
the squire, "who have been exiled from their country.
They come into this land to seek a man who is famous for
his warlike skill. They have heard of the monk who was
born near Boulogne, that he is a worthy man, courageous
and hardy." "Pish, friend!" said Eustace the Monk,
" you go on a business that is not worth a button. He is
a lazy blackguard and a glutton. The scoundrel is at his
dinner in the monastery. Bad luck to him ! he has nearly
famished us all. Go in, and you will find him." The
sergeant dismounted : " Hold my steed," said he to
Eustace ; there is not his equal between here and Monchi.
Take care of yourself, for he is a very devil at kicking."
" I'll hold him safe," replied Eustace, "he shall not kick me,
if I can help it." The sergeant entered the monastery, and
it is hardly necessary to say that he found there no monk.
Eustace, in the meantime, was not idle. He mounted the
horse, shouted out, " Carpenters, take your axe — I'm off.

140 EUSTACE THE MONK.

Heaven preserve you!" and galloped away. "By cock's
teeth ! thou hadst better dismount," cried the sergeant, as
he emerged from the monastery ; " bring back the horse,
I say." "It is too good to be given up so easily," was
the reply of the monk, as he scampered off; "you may go
back on foot, master vassal. Give my respects to the
count, and tell him that, had he dismounted here, he
would have met with a good entertainment." Eustace
disappeared in the forest ; and the sergeant was obliged to
make his way to the count on foot, before whom he came
half dead with hunger and thirst, his garments torn by
theb rambles, and covered with mud and dirt, which they had
gathered out of the ditches and holes into which he had fallen .

The count enraged more than ever, began a brisk hunt
in the forest, and came upon him suddenly ; so that
Eustace, having scarcely time to mount his horse Moriel,
in his hurry to escape, was thrown from the saddle, and
thus, after a desperate struggle, fell into the hands of his
enemies. The count would have hanged him immediately ;
but his peers were unanimously of opinion that he should
be sent to receive judgment of the king of France. The
count consented; and he was escorted in a cart bound
hand and foot ; but, near Beaurains, thirty of his men fell
upon the escort, and succeeded in rescuing their master.
Eustace, after this narrow escape, passed the river of Cance,
and robbed the abbot of Jumiaus of thirty marks in money.

When the count was one day at Boulogne, soon after
Eustace's escape, the latter came there in the disguise of a
mackerel-vender. The sergeants of the count bought his
mackerel, and his dinner was given him at the court ; but
when he demanded payment, he was told to wait till
another day. Eustace watched an opportunity when the

EUSTACE THE MONK. 141

count had ordered his horses to be saddled for riding, went
with three lads to take four of the handsomest to water,
led them to a place where his own men were in ambush,
and carried them off; sending word by one of the count's
retainers, whom he met, that Eustace had taken the pay-
ment of his mackerel. The count again pursued the de-
predator, but in vain.

About this time Eustace seems to have formed the
design of leaving the forests of the Boulonois, and of re-
pairing to England, to offer his services to king John.
One of his last tricks upon the count was performed while
the latter was at Calais. Eustace conveyed to him a pre-
sent of tarts and other pastry, in which, in place of fruit,
he had put a mixture of tow, pitch, and wax, by which,
when they were all at dinner, the count's party were
miserably entrapped. Eustace, on his arrival before king
John, offered to deliver up his daughter or his wife, as
hostages for his loyalty : the king received him gladly,
and gave him thirty galleys, with which he conquered and
plundered the isles of Jersey and Guernsey. Thence he
sailed to the coast of France, where he played a new trick
upon Cadoc, the seneschal of Normandy, who sought to
take him, and deliver him to the French king. On his
return he took and plundered several ships ; and, at his
own request, king John granted to him land in England
and also gave him permission, and lent him money, to
build a palace in London, which he finished in a most
splendid manner. His land, as we learn from the Close
Rolls, was at S waff ham in Norfolk.*

* The document contained in the Close Rolls, referring to this land,
runs thus, — : Mandatum est vicecomiti Norfolciae quod faciat habere,.
Willelmo de Cuntes terram quse fuit Eustachio Monacho in Swaf ham,

142 EUSTACE THE MONK.

After Eustace had been a while in England, he seems to
have lost the confidence of the king ; and at the same time
friendship was established between the count of Boulogne,
his old enemy, and John, in consequence of which the
former paid a visit in person to the English court. Eustace
saw immediately the necessity of leaving England, and he
was obliged to use a stratagem to effect his escape, — for the
king had issued orders for his arrest, and had directed the
seas to be strictly watched. The monk took a bow and a
fiddle, and dressed himself as a minstrel. In this garb he
arrived at the coast, where he found a merchant ready to
sail, and entered the ship with him. The steersman looked
upon him as an intruder. " Thou shalt go out," said he,
"with God's help." "That I will," replied Eustace,
" when we are on the other side. But I think you are not
over wise. Look! I will give you for my passage five ster-
lings and my fiddle. I am a jongler and a minstrel, and
you will not easily find my equal. I know all kinds of
songs. For St. Mary's sake ! good sir, carry me over ! I
come now from Northumberland, and have been five years
in Ireland. I have drunk so much 'good ale,' that my

quae est de honore Britanniae, quam dominus rex ei concessit. Teste me
ipso, apud Lincolniam, xxiii. die Februarii." (a. d. 1216.) Another of
the Close Rolls, four years earlier, mentions money which Eustace owed
to the king : — " Rex vicecomiti Norfolciae, etc. Scias quod dedimus
respectum Eustachio Monacho de xxu marcas quas nobis debet usque
ad festum sancti Andreas, et ideo tibi mandamus quod demandam quam
ei hide facis ponas in respectum usque ad praedictum festum ; duas
autem marcatas terrae unde idem Eustachius saisitus fuit in balliva tua
et quam cepisti in manum nostram ipsum in pace habere permittas
quamdiu fuerit ad praesens in servitio nostro, et quamdiu nobis placu-
erit. T. G. filio Petri, apud Westmonasterium xiii. die Octobris, per
eundem coram baronibus de scaccario" (a. d. 1212.)

EUSTACE THE MONK. 143

face is all discoloured, and pale ; and I now hasten to drink
again the wines of Argenteuil and Prouvins." "Tell us
thy name." " Sir, my name is Mauferas, and I am an
Englishman I wot!" "Thou an Englishman ?" replied
the steersman, " I thought thou hadst been a Frenchman.
At all events, if thou knowest any song, friend, let us have
it." " Know I one ? Yea ! of Agoullant and Aimon, or of
Blanchandin, or of Florence of Rome : there is not a song
in the whole world but I know it. I should be delighted,
without doubt, to afford you amusement ; but, in truth,
the sea frightens me so much at present, that I could not
sing a song worth hearing." The steersman was satisfied,
and questioned no further the skill of his passenger, who
arrived in the evening at Boulogne.

It appears that king John had put to death the daughter
of Eustace, who had been delivered up as a hostage for the
good conduct of her father. Eustace vowed vengeance
against John, and came to the resolution of offering his
services to the king of France; but being somewhat doubt-
ful of the reception which he might meet at the French
court, he took the disguise of a courier, and carried to the
king a letter, purporting to come from the monk, an-
nouncing his arrival in the French territory, and offering to
him his services. The king promised that if Eustace would
consent to a personal interview with him he should have a
safe conduct; upon winch, encouraged by the king's reply,
Eustace answered, — "I am he:" and, after extorting oaths
of loyalty, the king received him into favour. Eustace was
again put in command of a fleet, with which he infested
the seas, committing terrible depredations upon the party
whom he had before served. Hence our chronicles have
designated him by the name of traitor. In one of his naval
engagements, when he was bringing over a French fleet to

144 EUSTACE THE MONK.

assist the barons who were warring against John, and their
French auxiliaries, after a desperate engagement, he was
defeated and slain.

The most curious account of the last end of Eustace the
Monk is found in an unpublished chronicle, preserved
among the manuscripts of the British Museum. It is
another testimony of the character which he possessed at
that time for his supposed skill in magic, and for his use of
supernatural agents. It required the presence of a saint
to work his overthrow.

On the day of St. Bartholomew the apostle, this docu-
ment tells us, there came with a great fleet towards Sand-
wich, Eustace the Monk, accompanied by several great
lords of France, who expected to make an entire conquest
of the kingdom, trusting more in the malice of this apostate
monk than in their own strength, because he was deeply
skilled in magic. And they had such confidence in his
promises, on account of the prodigies which he had per-
formed in their country, that they had brought with them
their wives and children, and even infants in the cradle, to
inhabit England immediately. Now, when these ships
approached the harbour of Sandwich, they were all per-
fectly visible, except that of Eustace, who had made a
conjuration, so that himself and his ship could be seen by
none ; and where his ship floated there appeared nothing
but the waves of the sea. The people of the town were
terribly frightened at the unexpected arrival of so great an
army. Having no power sufficient to make any resistance
against their enemies, they put all their hope in God ; and,
throwing themselves on their knees, and weeping bitterly,
they prayed, for the love of St. Bartholomew, whose fes-
tival it was, that he would have pity on them, and deliver
their land from the hands of the invader. They made a

EUSTACE THE MONK. 145

vow, also, that if God would give them victory, they would
raise a chapel in honour of St. Bartholomew himself, and
that they would found in it a chantry for ever. There was
at that time in the town a man called Stephen Crabhe,
who had formerly been very intimate with the monk
Eustace, and whom Eustace had loved so well, that he had
taught him many of his practices in magic. This Crabbe
happening to be present when those of the town who
bore arms were consulting what was best to be done, and
moved by the lamentations of the unarmed people, he
addressed the chief men of the town : — M Unless," said
he, " Heaven have mercy upon us, the port of Sandwich,
hitherto so renowned, will be invaded, and the land lost.
But, in order that our posterity may not have reason to
reproach us, that such a dishonour has arrived to the
kingdom through our town, I will willingly give my life
to save the honour of my country. For this Eustace, who
is the leader of our enemies, cannot be seen by one who
is ignorant of magic, and I have learnt from himself this
enchantment. I will give to day, then, my life for the
sake of this land, — for I know well that, in entering his
ship, I cannot escape death from the numerous soldiers
who are with him." After having thus spoken, Stephen
Crabbe entered one of the only three vessels which were
there to defend the place against this powerful armament,
and when they approached Eustace's ship he leaped from
his own into it. The English, to whom the ship was
invisible, when they saw him standing and fighting, as
they thought, on the water, shouted, and thought that he
had been mad, or that some evil spirit had taken his form.
Then Stephen cut off the head of Eustace, and in an
instant his ship was visible to everybody. But Stephen

VOL. II. 7

146 EUSTACE THE MONK.

himself was immediately slain, horribly mutilated, and
thrown, piecemeal, into the sea. Suddenly there arose a
hurricane, which in many places overthrew houses, and
tore large trees up by the roots. It entered the haven,
and in that instant overset all the enemy's ships, without
injuring one of those which were stationed to defend the
town, except that it cast a terrible fear into those who
were embarked in them. The English said, that in the air
there appeared a man in red garments ; that they instantly
fell upon their knees, and cried, — " Saint Bartholomew,
have pity on us, and succour us against our foes ;" and
that they heard a voice which pronounced these words, —
" I am Bartholomew, and I am sent to assist you : fear
nothing." At these words he disappeared, and was nei-
ther seen nor heard more.

Thus ended the career of one of the most extraordinary
outlaws who ever lived. " He who puts his trust in evil
practices," observes the chronicle we have just quoted, "if
he would know what they are worth, let him think upon
the example of this great magician."

After the battle, the chronicle adds, the people of Sand-
wich bought, at the common expense, a place not far from
the town, where they built a chapel, and dedicated it to
St. Bartholomew. They erected houses contiguous for
the support of aged people, of both sexes, who should be
in poverty ; and they bought lands and rents to support
the poor in the hospital, and to keep a chantry in the
chapel, for ever. It was also established as a custom, that
every year, on St. Bartholomew's day, the commons should
assemble in the town of Sandwich, and that they should
march in solemn procession to the hospital, each with a
wax taper in his hand.

ESSAY XVI.

THE HISTORY OF FULKE FITZ WARINE.

T the same time that Eustace the monk was
astonishing the good people of the Bou-
lonnais by his exploits, the forests of merry
England were also haunted by numerous
outlaws, who were driven from their homes
by the tyranny of king John. Among these, one of the
most remarkable, and the only one the history of whose
exploits has come down to us, was Fulke fitz Warine, the
heir of a noble family on the borders of Wales, lord of
Whitington and of many other broad domains. Fulke' s
father had enjoyed the especial favour of Henry II, and
the son had been educated in the society of the royal
children, Richard and John. Richard, when king, made
young Fulke guardian of the marches ; but king John, in
revenge (it was said), for an old quarrel which had occurred
in their boyish games, not only deprived him of his office,
but wrested also from him his estate of Whitington, on
the border, which he gave to Fulke' s enemy, Morys fitz
Roger of Powis. When Fulk heard of the alliance be-
tween the king and Morys fitz Roger, he repaired with his
four brothers to the court, which was then at Winchester,
and, obtaining no redress, they publicly threw up their
allegiance to the king, and, with their cousin and staunch

148 HISTORY or

friend, Baldwin de Hodnet, left the city. They had scarcely
gone a mile, when they were overtaken by fifteen knights,
who had been sent by the king to secure their persons,
but these, after a desperate combat, were defeated, and
many of them slain. King John immediately proclaimed
Fulke an outlaw, and seized all his estates.

Fulke went straight to his manor of Alderbury, told his
mother what had happened, and, taking with him as much
of his riches as could be carried away, he repaired to
Britany, accompanied with his brothers, and remained
there some time. At length he became anxious to revisit his
native country, and the five brethren, with their cousins
Audulf de Bracy and Baldwin de Hodnet, secretly landed
in England, and, concealing themselves by day "in the
woods and moors," and travelling by night, they reached
Alderbury, where Fulke learnt that his mother was dead.
He then collected as many of his friends and retainers as
would join their fortunes with his, and repaired to the forest
called " Babbyng," beside Whitington, to espy the move-
ments of his chief enemy, Morys fitz Roger. The latter
received intelligence of his arrival by one of his valets,
who had seen him in the forest, and he went forth to seek
him, clad in superb armour, and accompanied by thirty
knights and some five hundred men on foot. But Fulke
fell suddenly upon them, and drove them back into the
castle, an arrow from which wounded him in the leg.
Morys, who was himself wounded in the shoulder, sent
word immediately to the king that Fulke fitz Warine was
returned to England; and John appointed a hundred
knights to hunt after Fulke throughout the island. Many
of these, however, appear to have borne good-will to him
(for he was related by blood to some of the best families

FULKE F1TZ WARINE. 149

in the kingdom), and others were afraid of him, so that,
as the writer of his history insinuates, when Fulke was in
one part of the kingdom, the knights generally con-
trived to be in another.

Mortified that his enemy Morys had escaped him, Fulke
repaired to the forest of ■ Bradene,' where he lay some
time concealed. One day there came by the forest ten mer-
chants, with a rich cargo of cloths, furs, spices, &c, guarded
by fourteen sergeants-at-arms. When Fulke saw them he
sent his brother John to inquire what people they were,
and whence they came. One of them answered him rudely;
but John fitz Warine still spoke courteously, and requested
they would come and speak with his lord in the wood.
The only answer he received was a blow from one of the
sergeants ; on which Fulke and his men rushed forth,
and, after a courageous resistance, captured the whole
convoy, and carried them into the depths of the forest.
There Fulke asked again who they were, and learnt that
the merchandise belonged to the king. When he heard
this, he had the rich cloths and furs measured out with
his lance, and gave all his companions, little and great,
a share of them, each according to his rank ; " but every
one had large measure enough." The rest of the mer-
chandise and wealth was also fairly divided ; and towards
evening, after having been feasted, the merchants and
sergeants, all wounded and lame, were "sent to carry
Fulke's salutations to the king, and thank him for his
good robes." He was nearly mad with rage ; and imme-
diately ordered it to be proclaimed, that whoever would
bring him Fulke fitz Warine, alive or dead, should be re-
warded with a thousand pounds of silver, and all Fulke' s
lands in England. The writer who has preserved these

150 HISTORY OF

details, here takes the opportunity to state, that during the
whole period of his exile and outlawry, Fulke never robbed
or injured anybody but the king or his agents.

Fulke now changed his hiding-place, and went into the
forest of Kent, and left his knights in the thick of the
forest, and went riding all alone on the high road. There
he met a gay messenger, singing as he rode along, with
a chaplet of red roses on his head. Fulke asked him to
give him the chaplet for a token of love, and told him that
if he had need of him he would repay it double. " Sir,"
said the messenger, " he is very sparing of his goods who
will not give a chaplet of roses at the request of a knight."
And he gave him the chaplet, for which courtesy Fulke
paid him twenty sols. But the messenger knew well who
he was, and he hastened to Canterbury, and there met the
hundred knights who were employed to hunt after the out-
laws, and, in consideration of a good reward, told them
where Fulke and his companions were concealed in a little
wood. The knights raised the country, and caused the
wood to be surrounded as though they were hunting game,
and placed old people and others in the fields with horns,
to give notice if they saw Fulke and his companions issue
from the forest. Fulke knew nothing of these formidable
transactions ; and his suspicions were first roused by
hearing a knight sound a great bugle. The outlaws imme-
diately armed and issued forth. Meeting first with the
body of knights, they attacked them, killed several at the
first charge, and fought their way right through them.
Then, wheeling suddenly about, they again attacked the
knights, but others coming up to their assistance, fearing
to be overpowered by numbers, and John fitz Warine being
seriously wounded, they soon took to flight, leaving many

FULKE FITZ WARINE. 151

of their enemies dead on the place. When they had dis-
tanced their pursuers, the outlaws quitted their jaded
horses, and fled on foot to an abbey that was near at hand.
The porter, seeing them approach, ran to shut the gates
upon them, but Fulke's brother Alayne, who was tall,
jumped over the wall, wrested the keys from the porter,
and let his companions enter. Fulke put on the dress of
an old monk, and took a great staff in his hand, and
closing the gate behind him, went along the road limping
with one foot, and supporting his whole body on the great
staff. Soon there came knights and sergeants, and a mul-
titude of people. A knight said, " Old monk, have you
seen any armed knights pass this way? " " Yes, sir, and
may God repay them the hurt they have done me ! " "And
what have they done?" said the knight. "Sir," said
Fulke, "I am old, as you see, and unable to help
myself, I am so weak ! And lo ! seven came on horse,
and about fifteen on foot, and, because I could not get
readily out of their way, they made no stay, but run over me,
and it is a chance I was not killed." "Say no more,"
said the knight, "you shall have your revenge before
evening." The knights and their companions passed on,
and were soon a league or more beyond the abbey.

Fulke remained a while to see what would happen. He
had not been there long, when sir Gyrard de Malfee and
ten knights well mounted, who had come from beyond
sea, passed along the same road, leading some choice horses.
Then says Gyrard in derision, " Here is a great fat monk ;
I'll warrant his belly would hold two gallons!" Fulke,
without uttering a word, raised his staff, and struck the
knight to the ground ; and his companions, who were
watching from the abbey gate, hurried to his assistance,

1.52 HISTORY OF

took and bound sir Gyrard and his knights, and locked
them up in the porter's lodge, and, seizing their horses,
set off at full gallop, and never stopped till they arrived at
Huggeford, where Fulke' s kinsman, sir Walter de Hugge-
ford, gave them shelter. Here John fitz Warine was
cured of his wound.

After Fulke had remained a few days at Huggeford, a
messenger from Hubert, archbishop of Canterbury, arrived,
who had been long seeking him in different parts, and who
informed him that the archbishop wished for an interview
with him. The outlaws again went into Kent, and leaving
his men in the same wood where they had formerly lodged,
Fulke and his brother William, disguised as merchants,
entered the city of Canterbury, and were received into the
archbishop's palace. The archbishop told Fulke that his
brother Theobald, who had married dame Maude de Caus,
"a very rich lady, and the most beautiful in all England,"
was dead ; that king John had attempted to get possession
of the lady to satisfy his lust ; that she had taken shelter
with him, and that he had hid her in his palace. He con-
cluded by urging Fulke to marry the lady. Fulke con-
sented, the marriage was privately celebrated, and, after
remaining there two days, he returned to his companions
in the wood, and told them what he had done. The out-
laws were merry together, and laughed and joked, and
called him " hosebaunde," and asked him whither he
should carry his fair lady, into his castle or into his
forest ?

It happened at this time that Fulke was much scanda-
lized by the conduct of a wicked knight of the north
country, named Peter de Bruvyle, who had collected
together a number of dissolute people, and went about

FULKE FITZ WARINE. 153

murdering and robbing honest people, and he did this
under the name of Fulke fitz Warine. One night he broke
into the house of a knight named Robert fitz Sampson,
who dwelt on the Scottish border, and who, with his lady,
had often received Fulke fitz Warine in his wanderings, and
treated him with hospitality. Fulke, who seldom ventured
to remain long in one place, had repaired to the northern
border, and was proceeding to the house of Robert fitz
Sampson the very night it was visited by Peter de Bruvyle.
As he approached, he saw a great light in the court, and
heard boisterous shouts in the hall. Having placed his
companions outside, he climbed over the fence and entered
the court, and then he saw through the hall window the
robbers seated at supper, with masks on, and Robert fitz
Sampson and his good dame, and the members of their
household, lay bound on one side of the hall. And the
men at table addressed their leader by the name of sir
Fulke, while the lady was piteously crying out to him,
" Ha ! sir Fulke, why do you treat us thus ? I never
injured you, but have always loved you to the best of my
power." When Fulke heard the lady speak thus, he
could restrain himself no longer, but drawing his sword
and calling his companions, he burst suddenly into the
hall. The robbers were struck dumb with terror at this
unexpected visit ; and Fulke obliged Peter de Bruvyle to
bind his own men and cut off their heads, after which he
beheaded Peter himself with his own hands. Fulke and
his companions then unbound Robert fitz Sampson and
his fellow sufferers, and they all supped merrily together.

Fulke had many narrow escapes from his enemies, but
he was always ready with expedients. Sometimes the
king traced the outlaws by the foot-marks of their horses ;

7§

154 HISTOTtY OF

and then Fulke had their shoes reversed, by which means
the pursuers were thrown at once upon the wrong track.
When Fulke took his leave of Robert fitz Sampson, he
again visited his own paternal manor of Alderbury, and
established himself in the forest on the banks of the river.
He called to him one of his most faithful companions,
John de Raunpaygne. — " John," said he, " you know
much of minstrelsy and jonglerie ; dare you go to Whitington
and play before Morys fitz Roger, and see what he is
about?" "Yea," said John; and he crushed a certain
herb and put it in his mouth, and suddenly his face began
to swell and became discoloured, so that his own companions
scarcely knew him. He then dressed himself like a poor
man, and took his box with his instrument, and a great
staff in his hand, and came to Whitington, and told the
porter he was a minstrel. The porter led him in to sir
Morys, who asked him where he was born. " Sir," said
he, "in the marches of Scotland." "And what news are
there?" said sir Morys. "Sir, I know none, except of
sir Fulke fitz Warine, who was slain the other night while
committing a robbery in the house of sir Robert fitz
Sampson." "Is that true you tell me?" "Yea, truly,"
said John de Raunpaygne ; " all the people of the country
say so." * Minstrel," said sir Morys, "for your good
news I will give you this cup of fine silver." The minstrel
took the cup, and thanked 'his good lord' heartily. He
learnt that sir Morys was going with a small company to
Shrewsbury the next day ; but before he left the castle he
fell into a quarrel with the ' ribalds' and slew one of them.
The next morning Fulke, according to the information
he had thus obtained, placed himself with his men on the
way between Whitington and Shrewsbury. Morys soon

FULKE F1TZ WARIXE. 155

made his appearance, and recognized Fulke by his arms.
" Now," said he, " I know that it is true that minstrels are
liars." The outlaws slew Morys fitz Roger and all his
knights, and, as the chronicler of these events pithily
observes, "by so many the fewer enemies had Fulke."

Fulke and his companions now went to the court of the
prince of Wales, and remained with him for some time,
and aided him in his wars against king John, and by his
means he obtained forcible possession of his own castle of
Whitington. From thence for some time he carried on
constant warfare with his enemies. In a battle with sir
John Lestrange, two of Fulke's brothers, Alayn and
Philip, were severely wounded, and his cousin, Audulf de
Bracy, was taken prisoner and carried to Shrewsbury, and
delivered to the king, who threatened to hang him. The
skill of John de Raunpaygne was again called into action.
He dressed himself very richly, "like a great count or
baron ," dyed his hair and his body as black as jet, so
that nothing but his teeth was left white ; hung a very fair
tabour about his neck ; mounted a handsome palfrey, and
rode straight to the castle of Shrewsbury. When he came
before the king he fell on his knees, and saluted him very
courteously. King John returned the salutation, and
asked him who he was. " Sire," said he, "I am an
Ethiopian minstrel, born in Ethiopia." Said the king,
"Are all the people of that country of your colour?"
"Yea, my lord, both men and women." Then the king
asked, "What say they in foreign countries of me?"
"Sire," said he, "you are the most renowned king in all
Christendom, and it is on account of your great renown
that I am come to see you." "Fair sir," said the king,
"you are welcome." "Sire, my lord, many thanks!"

156 HISTORY OF

replied John de Raunpaygne. After the king was gone to
his bed, sir Henry de Audeley (the constable of the castle)
sent for the black minstrel, and he was conducted to his
chamber; and there they "made great melody;" and
when sir Henry had drunk pretty deeply, he called a valet
and said, " Go fetch sir Audulf de Bracy, whom the king
will put to death to-morrow ; he shall have one merry
night before he dies." The valet soon brought sir Audulf
into the chamber, and then they talked and joked toge-
ther. John de Raunpaygne began a song which sir Audulf
used to sing, on which sir Audulf lifted up his head,
looked him in the face, and with some difficulty recognized
him. When sir Henry asked to drink, John de Raunpaygne
jumped on his feet and served the cup round, in doing
which he cleverly threw into it a powder, which in a short
time threw all who drank of it into a profound sleep.
John de Raunpaygne then took one of the king's fools
who was there, placed him between the two knights who
had sir Audulf in guard, and making a rope of the table
cloths and towels in the chamber, the two friends let
themselves down from a window which looked over the
river, and made the best of their way to Whitington, where
they were joyfully received by Fulke and his companions.
Meanwhile the adventures of his young wife were not
less varied than those of Fulke himself. During the
first year of her marriage she remained in sanctuary at
Canterbury, where she gave birth to a daughter. Her hus-
band then took her away by night, and she was privately
conveyed to Huggeford, at which place and at Alberbury she
was concealed for some time. But king John, furious at her
marriage with Fulke, and more eager to indulge his wicked
inclinations, employed agents to spy her out and carry her

FULKE FITZ WARIXE. 157

off, so that she could never stay long at one place. She was
thus at length driven from Alderbury, and closely pursued
to Shrewsbury, where, being in a condition unfit for tra-
velling, she took shelter in St. Mary's church, and was
there delivered of a second daughter. Her third child, a
boy, which came into the world two months before its time,
was born at the top of a Welsh mountain, and was baptized
in a neighbouring stream.

Through the king's intrigues, Fulke was at length
obliged to quit Wales, and he repaired to France, where,
under a feigned name, he met with a hospitable reception,
and distinguished himself by his skill and prowess in justs
and tournaments. The king of France at last found who
he was, and offered him lands in France if he would re-
linquish his own country ; but Fulke replied that he was
unworthy to receive lands of another, who could not defend
his own at home, and he took his leave and repaired to the
sea coast. There he saw a mariner, whose ship was waiting
at anchor. " Fair sir," said Fulke, " is that ship yours?"
"Yea, sir," he replied. "What is your name?" said
Fulke. "Mador," was the reply. "Friend Mador,"
said Fulke, "art thou well acquainted with the sea?"
" Truly, sir, there is not a land of which the fame has
reached Christendom, to which I cannot guide safely a
ship." "Truly," said Fulke, "yours is a dangerous pro-
fession. Tell me, Mador, fair friend, of what death did
your father die?" Mador replied that he was drowned in
the sea. "And your grandfather?" "The same."
"And your great-grandfather?" "Truly, in the same
manner; all my kin that I know to the fourth degree."
" Truly," said Fulke, " you are fool-hardy to venture upon
the sea again !" "Sir," said he, "why so? every crea-

158 HISTORY OF

ture will have the death to which he is destined. If you
please, sir, answer my question ; where died your father?"
"In his bed," replied Fulke. "And your grandfather?"
"In his bed, too; all my lineage, as far as I know, died
in their beds." "Truly, sir, said Mador, "since all your
lineage died in their beds, I wonder you ever dare ventuie
into any bed." And Fulke saw, as the narrator tells us,
that Mador said right, and that no one knows where he is
destined to die, on land or on water.

With the assistance of Mador, Fulke fitted out and
manned a good ship, with which for a full year he infested
the English coast, robbing the king's navy, until after
having passed the north of Scotland, he was carried away
by a storm to the coasts of Spain and Africa. His adven-
tures among dragons and Saracens during this period of
his history partake so much of romance, that we will pass
them over in silence, and return at once with our hero to
England, whence he had been so long gone that king John
seemed almost to have forgotten him. One day Fulke and
his companions suddenly arrived at Dover, and, learning
that the king was at Windsor, they left the ship in a place
of safety, under the care of Mador, and, travelling as usually
from place to place by night, they established themselves
safely in a part of Windsor forest which was well known
to them, and, hearing horns blow at a distance, Fulke
placed his party in ambush, and went out "to spy adven-
tures." As he went along he fell in with an old charcoal
burner, all black with coal-dust, and bearing in his hand
a three-forked prong. Fulke took this man's clothes
and his charcoal, and gave him ten besants to go
away and be silent. He then put on the sooty clothes,
seated himself down by the fire, and pretended to be busily

FULKE FITZ WARIXE. 159

occupied in stirring his coals this way and that way, when
the king and three knights, all on foot, made their appear-
ance. The intruders remained a few minutes laughing at
the grotesque appearance of the supposed charcoal-
burner ; but at last the king said, " Master villan, have you
seen any stag or doe pass this way?" Fulke, who had
thrown down his prong, and fallen in a clownish manner
on his knees, replied, " Yea, my lord, just now ! " "What
kind of one did you see ? " said the king. M Sir, my lord,
a stag, and he had long horns." " Where is it? " " Sir,
my lord, I could undertake to lead you where I saw it."
" Onwards, quick, master villan, and we will follow ! '
The king and his knights were armed with bows, and in-
tended shooting the stag as it passed. But Fulke led him
to the spot where his men were in ambush, and there, pre-
tending he would go and drive out the game, he brought
out his men, and surrounded the monarch and his knights.
John trembled with fear, for he had great dread of Fulke
fitz Warine, and knew well that he had no claim upon his
mercy. He therefore readily consented to pardon him
and restore him to his heritage, on condition that he should
be allowed to return to his court without hurt, and he con-
firmed his promise by the oaths of himself and his three
companions. But no sooner was the king out of danger,
than he told his courtiers what had happened, broke his
oathj and gave directions for pursuing the outlaws and
bringing them before him, dead or alive. One of John's
favorites, a foreign knight named sir James of Normandy,
boastingly offered to lead the pursuit, telling the king that
the English barons betrayed his interests for their consan-
guinity to the fitz Warines.

John de Raunpaygne had fortunately espied the approach

160

HISTORY OF

of sir James and his party, and given warning to the other
outlaws, who saw that it was impossible to escape without
fighting their assailants. They therefore set upon them
vigorously, and slew them all except sir James himself.
Then they dismounted from their horses, and took those
of their pursuers, which were better and swifter, and clad
themselves also in their gay armour ; and Fulke fitz Warine
changed armour with sir James of Normandy, whose mouth
they gagged, and whose arms they bound as though he had
been a prisoner. In this condition Fulke took him back
to the king. The latter, supposing the bound knight was
his enemy Fulke, could hardly contain his joy : and he gave
Fulke, whom he took by his armour to be sir James of
Normandy, his own good steed to pursue the rest of the
outlaws. As soon as he was gone, the king ordered his
prisoner to be hanged on a tree in the forest ; but his dis-
may was great when on his helmet being taken off, he found
it was his own knight. St. James then told the king
what had happened, and a much larger body set off to
pursue Fulke, and revenge the first disaster. These came
suddenly upon the outlaws, who were occupied in a thicket
with William fitz Warine, who had been severely wounded
in the previous fray. The outlaws were now nearly over-
powered, and with difficulty succeeded in carrying off
Fulke, who was himself grievously wounded, to their ship,
leaving his brother William in the hands of their enemies.
Fulke and his companions again visited the countries of
the infidels, and gained there great wealth and reputa-
tion, and found some of their companions from whom
they had formerly been separated. After various romantic
adventures, they returned secretly to England laden with
riches, and it was determined that John de Raunpaygne, so

FULKE FITZ WARINE. 161

clever at disguises, should take upon him the character of
a merchant, and go to London and spy king John. So
John de Raunpaygne put on rich apparel, and spoke a sort
of corrupt Latin, and, coming to London, he presented
himself to the mayor, who understood his language tole-
rably well. And the mayor, charmed with his munificent
behaviour, formed a warm attachment for him, and took
him and presented him to the king of Westminster, whom
he saluted very courteously in his broken Latin. Then the
king asked him who he was, and whence he came. " Sire,"
said John de Raunpaygne, " I am a merchant of Greece,
and I have been in Babylonia, and Alexandria, and India
Major, and I bring a ship laden with avoirdupoise, rich
clothes, precious stones, horses, and other riches which
might be of great profit to this kingdom.5' Said the king,
" It is my will that you and yours be welcome in my lands,
and I will be your warrant." And the mayor and the
merchant were made to stay and dine there in the presence
of the king. At length there came two sergeants-at-mace,
who led into the hall a large knight, very muscularly shaped,
with a long and black beard, but meanly clad; and they
seated him in the middle of the court, and gave him to
eat. The merchant asked the mayor who he was, and he
answered that it was a knight named William fitz Warine,
and told him the whole affair of him and his brothers.

John de Raunpaygne was rejoiced at this unexpected ad-
venture, for he supposed that William had been dead, and he
gave notice of it without delay to Fulke, who brought up his
ship as near to the city as he could. The next day, the pre-
tended merchant presented a beautiful palfrey to the king,
and in a day or two he had gained so much respect that he
was allowed to go about as he liked in the court, without sus-

162 HISTORY OF

picion. One day he took his companions and armed them
well, and dressed them outwardly in mariners' gowns, and
came to court at Westminster. They were nobly received
there, and saw William fitz Warine ; and when his keepers
led him away to prison, the merchant and his mariners
followed them, and, when they least expected it, fell upon
them and wrested their prisoner from them, and in spite
of all opposition carried him to the boat, and so got away
in their ship and put out to sea. It is hardly necessary to
say that Fulke was right joyous to recover his brother
William.

After staying a few months in Britany, the outlaws again
repaired with their ship to the English coast, and landed
in one of their favorite haunts, the New Forest. There,
by accident, they met the king hunting a boar, and, ren-
dered wise by experience, they seized him and six knights
who were with him, carried them into their ship and put
out to sea, King John now gave himself up for lost, and
was willing to agree to any terms that might be proposed;
and after some negotiation the king suddenly changed his
sentiments, and not only pardoned Fulke but actually took
him into favour. The sincerity of this reconciliation is
proved by the letters of protection and pardon which are
still preserved on the patent and close rolls in the Tower
of London, although it appears by these that the king was
in Normandy, and not in England, when it was ratified.
In the fifth year of his reign, the month of September 1203,
the king gives Fulke fitz Warine and his companions three
safe-conducts to repair to his court. The pardon is dated
in the month of November,* and it is followed by a list of his

* The pardon is worded as follows ; — " Rex, etc. justiciariis, vice-

FULKE FITZ WARINE. 163

chief companions who were pardoned at the same time,
amounting in number to fifty-three, containing several of the
nameswhich have occurred in the foregoinghistory. Thenext
year the king restored to him his castle of Whitington, as
well as the estates of his wife, the lady Maude or Matilda,
whom he had married at the instigation of her brother-in-
law, the archbishop of Canterbury. From this time Fulke
appears to have been a faithful servant to his king, and
finally died quietly in hisbed,as it appears that his forefathers
had done before him. Dugdale has led many writers into
error by confounding this Fulke fitz Warine with his son,
who was drowned at the battle of Lewes, in 1264.

The adventures of Fulke fitz Warine appear to have been
long popular both in French and in English verse, the former
written probably very soon after the date of the events to
which they relate. They are now only preserved in a prose
paraphrase of the French poem, which is itself found in
a manuscript in the British Museum, written in the reign
of Edward II. From this manuscript an edition was
printed in Paris some five or six years ago.*

comitibus, etc. Sciatis quod nos recepimus in gratiam et benevolentiam
nostram Fulconem filium Guarini, ad petitionem venerabibs patris
nostri J. Norwicensis episcopi et comitis W. Saresberiensis, fratris
nostri, reraittentes ei excessus quos fecit, eique pardonantes fugam et
utlagariam in eum promulgatam. Et ideo vobis mandamus et firmiter
przecipimus, quod firmam pacem nostram habeat ubicumque venerit.
Teste, etc."

* Histoire de Foulques fitz-Warin, pubbee d'apres un manuscrit du
Musee Britannique, par Francisque Michel. 8vo, Paris, 1840.

ESSAY XVII.

ON THE POPULAR CYCLE OF THE ROBIN HOOD BALLADS.

HE period which we are accustomed to
call the middle ages has left us, in its lite-
rature, many interesting, but at the same
time extremely dark andintricate problems.
In the semi-heroic period of the history
of most peoples, the national poetry appears in the form
of cycles, each having for its subject some grand national
story, some tradition of times a little more ancient, which
had become a matter of national exultation or of national
sorrow. Greece had several such cycles. Among our
Anglo-Saxon forefathers there was a great cycle parallel
apparently to that to which belongs the High German
Nibelungen Lied, of which there has fortunately been pre-
served the fine poem of the adventures of Beowulf the
Geat, and of which fragments of other poems are found in
the Exeter book, and in some stray leaves of other manu-
scripts. This cycle was succeeded, after the Normans
came in, by that of Arthur and his knights, by the many
romances which are supposed to be of Armorican origin,
and by the cycle of Charlemagne and his peers. Of the
history of the Anglo-Saxon cycle we know nothing ; and
that of those which followed it, is not much less obscure.
When the Norman cycles became popular in England,
the heroes of the Anglo-Saxon poetry were forgotten,

POPULAR CYCLE OF THE ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 165

except perhaps in some few instances where the shadow
of the older literature became degraded into the form of
ballads, which might be sung by the peasant at his ale or
at his labour. We need not be surprised, therefore, if
we find ballad cycles existing contemporary with and inde-
pendent of the cycles of the romances. In fact, we do
find such cycles ; and, as might have been supposed, the
character of the persons in the older form, if there existed
any older form, is entirely moulded down to suit that of
the people amongst whom these ballads were popular.
The most extraordinary ballad cycle — indeed, the only one
which has preserved its popularity down to our own times,
and of which we have large remains— is that of Robin
Hood.

The only attempt which has been made to investigate
the history of the popular cycle of Robin Hood, and to
trace its vicissitudes and transformations, is contained in a
tract written, curiously enough, as a thesis preparatory to
taking the degree of doctor in the university of Paris, its
author being, we believe, a Scotchman.* In fact, it is
one specimen of the new state of things in France, which
has rejected the old fashion of writing probatory essays on
the characters of Themis to cles and Cicero, and such folks,
for the introduction of more modern subjects and more
modern notions. Mr. Barry has treated his subject with
cleverness and ingenuity; but unfortunately he wanted
materials, and was thus deficient in a knowledge of that
on which he wrote. He does not appear to have read any
more of the older ballads than that of Robin Hood and the

* These de Litterature sur les Vicissitudes et les Transformations
du Cycle populaire de Robin Hood. Paris, 1832.

166 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

Potter, not having seen that printed in the last edition of
Ritson's Robin Hood, under the title of Robin Hood and the
Monk, nor even that most important poem the 'Lytell Geste.'
He was, moreover, unacquainted with the manuscripts,
and knew but little of the history and philology of our
language and our poetry. We need not give a stronger
proof of this than his derivation of yeoman from yew-man,
i. e. archer (p. 11). His theory is, that the hero of the
cycle, Robin Hood, was one of the Saxons who became
outlaws in opposing the intrusion and rapacity of the
Normans — that the ballads were originally written in alli-
terative verse at the beginning of the thirteenth century —
and that in their transformed shape they still picture to
us the feelings of the Saxon peasantry towards their Nor-
man governors. Before, however, considering this hypo-
thesis as to the hero, and as to the origin of the cycle, we
will describe and arrange what appear to be the remains of
the cycle in its earlier form.

It was necessary to the character of the hero of a popular
cycle in England, during some centuries after the Con-
quest, that he should be signalized by his depredations
upon the king's deer. The sheriff and his officers, who
enforced the severe forest-laws of the Norman kings, were
the oppressors against whom the heroes of the popular
romance must make war, and in deceiving whom they
must show their craftiness and activity. It is curious,
however, that this hostile feeling is always directed against
the persons, and not against the authority with which they
were armed. In the ballads, the peasantry of England
appears always loyal ; and one of their most popular cycles
was that in which the monarch is represented as being
benighted or misled in some one of his forests, and meet-

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 16/

ing there with some of the destroyers of his deer, who by
their loyalty and joviality obtain his forgiveness and favour.
One of the earliest poems on the subject to which we
allude, is that of king Edward and the Shepherd, pre-
served in the same manuscript of the Public Library of the
university of Cambridge, which contains the oldest ballad
of Robin Hood. Edward had ridden out into Windsor
Forest, as it would seem, attended only by his groom, and
in the course of his wanderings met with a shepherd, on
whose want of courtesy the poet has been pleased to pass
a joke.

" With a shepherde con he mete,
And gret hym with wordis swete,

Without any delay ;
The shepherde lovyd his hatte so well,
He did hit of nevre a dele,

But seld, 'Sir, gudday!' "*

In reply to the king's inquiries, the shepherd stated that
he was born in Windsor, but that he had been compelled
to desert his home by the oppressive conduct of the king's
purveyors, who not only robbed him of his cattle, leaving him
only a notched stick as an acknowledgment, but had vio-
lated his daughter, and driven his wife, who was old and
hoary, out of doors. His name, he said, was Adam the
shepherd. The king called himself Jolly Robin, and said
that he was the son of a Welsh knight, that his mother's
name was dame Isabel, and that he had a young son who
was much loved by the queen, and he promised that by
his influence he would procure justice to be done to the

* Gret, greeted — gudday, good day.

168 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

shepherd, whom he invited to visit him at the court the
following day. After some conversation, the shepherd
proposed that his new acquaintance, Jolly Robin, should
go home and dine with him, an offer which was imme-
diately accepted ; and on the way Adam boasted much of
his skill in the use not of the bow but of the sling.
Presently they saw some rabbits (conyngs), and the king
proposed that the shepherd should make good his vaunt
by killing one of them. The shepherd, however, dissembled.

" Hit is alle the kynges waren,
Ther is nouther kny3t ne sqwayre,

That dar do sich a dede,
An conyng here to sla
And with the trespas away to ga,

But his side shulde blede.
The warner is hardy and fell,
Sertanly, as I the tell,

He will take no mede.
Whoso dose here sich maistrye.
Bethu wel sicer he shal abye,

And unto preson lede."*

The king continued to urge his proposal, and was further
admonished by his companion.

" The herd bade, ' let sech wordis be,
Sum man my3t here the,

The were better be still.
Wode has erys, felde has sigt :
Were the forster here now right,

They wordis shuld like the ille.

* Squayre, squire — sicer, sure — he shal able, suffer retribution.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 169

He has with hym jong men thre,
Thei be archers of this contre,

The kyng to serve at wille,
To kepe the dere both day and nyjt ;
And for theire luf a loge is di3t,

Full hye upon an hill.' " *

The two friends went to dinner, and, after having taught
Jolly Kobin his drinking words passilodion and berafrynde,
the ale made the shepherd's heart more open, and, enjoin-
ing secrecy to his guest, he brought forth pasties of rabbit
and venison, with abundance of excellent wine.

" • Sir,' he seid, ' asay of this :

Thei were jisterday qwyk, i-wysse,

Certan, withouten lye,
Hider thei come be mone-li3t.
Eete therof well aplijt ;

And schewe no curtasye.' "

Afterwards, he explained to the king how he had two
slings, with the larger of which he slew deer, and with
the smaller rabbits; and how, under cover of night, he
conveyed them home, and he showed him his secret cellar,
which was well filled with venison and other dainties. On
his return home, the king was accompanied through the
forest by his new acquaintance, who killed a rabbit with
his smaller sling, boasting much of the superiority of his
weapon over the bow, —

* Erys, ears — they, thy — like the ille, please thee ill — luf, living,
leofan, A.— S.

VOL. II. 8

1 70 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

" ' Sir,' he seid, ' for soth I trowe
This is behette any bowe,

For alle the fedart schafte.' "

and promised to visit Jolly Robin at the court. There,
after his arrival next day, the joke was carried on for
some time, until the shepherd, to his no small terror,
discovered the quality of the confidant to whom he had
shown his venison. Here the poem in the manuscript
ends abruptly, but we can scarcely doubt that the king
ordered reparation to be made to him for the oppressions
he had suffered, and perhaps that he made him one of the
keepers of his forests.

Another early ballad on the same subject, but still more
imperfect, was printed in the British Bibliographer (vol.
iv), under the title of " The Kyng and the Hermit."
The hermit seems to be the Friar Tuck, and perhaps the
Curtal Friar of the Robin Hood ballads. The scene is
here laid in the forest of Sherwood.

" It befelle be god Edwards days,
For soth so the romans seys,

Harkyng, I will you telle,
The kyng to Scherwod gan wend,
On hys pleyng for to lend,

* * *

For to solas hym that stond,
The grete herte for to hunte
In frythys and in felle."*

Allured by the hope of finding a large herd of deer,
* Harkyng, hearken — stond, a while.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 171

which had been seen by an old forester, the king wandered
from his company, lost his way in the forest, and at last
took shelter in the hut of a hermit. The latter at first
received his guest reluctantly; but the king gradually gained
his confidence, and venison and wine were brought forth
in abundance, the drinking words being fusty baudyas
and stryke pantnere. The king, who in this adventure
assumed the name of Jack Fletcher, and represented him-
self as a poor courtier, invited the hermit to court, and
the latter, before parting, showed him his bows and
arrows, and his secret stores, of the first of which, by his
name, he naturally supposed him to have some knowledge.

" Into a chambyr he hym lede ;
The kyng sauwe aboute the hermytes bed

Brod arowys hynge.
The frere gaff him a bow in hond :
' Jake,' he seyd, ' draw up the bond ;'

He myght oneth styre the streng,
1 Sir,' he seyd, ' so have I blys,
There is no archer that may schot in this,

That is "with my lord the kyng.'

" An arow of an elle long
In hys bow he it throng,

And to the hede he gan it hale.
1 Ther is no dere in this foreste,
And it wolde one hym teste,

Bot it schuld spyll his skale.
Jake, sith thou can of flecher crafte
Thou may me ese with a schafte.'

Than seyd Jake, ' I schall.' " *

The fragment ends with the departure of the king, but
* Oneth styre, hardly stir.

172 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

there can be no doubt of the poem having ended prosper-
ously for the hermit.

The second line which we have quoted from this latter
poem, would almost lead us to imagine that there had been
a French original, did not the subject seem strongly to
contradict such a supposition. And, indeed, at the time
when this ballad was written, the expressions "as the
romans says," seems to have become a mere hackneyed
phrase, used without any meaning. The spirit of the
Norman romances was not that of introducing the pea-
sant and the deer-stealer in a favorable point of view,
or of bringing them to prosperity or royal favour. This
cycle was the groundwork of many ballads in the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, of which one is the well-known
ballad of The King and the Miller of Mansfield, in his in-
troductory observations on which Percy has pointed out
several others of the same class.* A similar and very
curious anecdote is told of Henry II by Giraldus Cam-
brensis, which is either the groundwork of the incident
in the popular poetry of a later era, or perhaps a proof
of the existence of such ballads at that time ; it is printed
in the Reliquice Antiquce, (vol. i, p. 147.) The earliest
story of the kind is perhaps the legend of king Alfred's
residence with the neat-herd ; the latest, one which has
been told, we think, as having occurred in the reign of
queen Anne. Prince George of Denmark having landed
unexpectedly at Bristol, and not having been recognized
by the merchants who were at the time on the pier where
he was walking, was accosted by a poor artisan, who asked

* They have furnished our great romance writer with the hint of a
beautiful scene in Ivanhoe.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 1/3

him if he were not the queen's husband, expressed his
regret that so little respect had been shown to him, and
invited him to partake of his own humble fare. The
prince dined with the artisan, who was afterwards, with his
wife, invited to court by the queen, and himself knighted,
and his wife presented, if we remember right, with a
watch.

We proceed to the kindred cycle which celebrated the
deeds of the open outlaw, personified in the character of
Robin Hood. That the Robin Hood ballads were popular
before the middle of the fourteenth century, we have direct
testimony. Fordun, who wrote towards 1350, or rather,
perhaps, Bowyer, who interpolated Fordun' s history in
the fifteenth century, observes, " Hoc in tempore (i. e.
Hen. Ill) de exhseredatis surrexit et caput erexit ille famo-
sissimus sicarius Robertus Hode et Littell Johanne, cum
eorum complicibus, de quibus stolidum vulgus hianter in
comcediis et tragcediis prurientur festum faciunt, et super
caeteras romancias, mimos, et bardanos cantitare dilectan-
tur.3' (Ed. Hearne, p. 774.) And in that remarkable and
valuable poem, The Visions of Piers Plowman, which was
written in the reign of Edward III, Sloth is introduced as
confessing, amongst other things,

" But I kan rymes of Robyn Hood,
And Randolf erl of Chestre ;
Ac neither of oure Lord ne of oure Lady
The leeste that evere was maked."

(I. 3277)

These passages, particularly that of Fordun, describe a
cycle of poetry essentially popular, which originated with
the people and rested with the people, but of which, as it

174 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

then existed, it has been supposed that we have no remain-
ing specimen.

We are satisfied, however, that we have a Robin Hood
ballad of the fourteenth century, one of those which
were sung by the contemporaries of Fordun and the
author of Piers Plowman's Visions. It is contained
in a manuscript preserved in the public library of the
University of Cambridge (Ff. 5. 48) ; has been incor-
rectly printed in Jamieson's Ballads ; still more inaccu-
rately in the Ancient Metrical Tales, edited by Mr.
Hartshorne; and again, though not altogether accu-
rately, in the last edition of Ritson's Robin Hood, as
may be seen by comparing the few lines we shall presently
quote from it. It is the same manuscript which was
once in the possession of Withers the poet, who lent it
to Bedwell, and the latter printed from it that singular
ballad The Tournament of Tottenham. Internal evidence
seems to prove that the greater part of the poems con-
tained in this manuscript are as old as the reign of
Edward II ; we have now but an indistinct recollection
of the hand-writing, but it is on paper, and if this may
be looked on as inconsistent with the supposition that
it is itself of that age, it may be a verbatim copy from
a manuscript of that date. Some of the reasons which
seem to support this idea, are : —

(I.) One article of this manuscript, near the middle of
the volume, is a brief poetical chronicle of the kings of
England. It is brought down to the time of Edward II,
in whose reign it ends thus —

" After him (i. e. Ed. I.) regned Edwarde his sone,
And hase his londe alle and some,

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 1/5

Make we us glaad and blithe, lordingus,

For thus endyn these kingus.

Jhesu Crist and saint Lenard

Save this king Edward,

And gif hym grace his londe to 5eme,

That Jhesu Crist be to queme,

Thrug his hestis ten :

Syng we now alle, Amen." — Explicit.

We can easily imagine that in many instances a poem
like this, written at one period, may have been copied ver-
batim at a later period without continuation ; but, from
the general style of the present manuscript, and from the
consideration that this poem as well as many others in the
same volume were evidently intended for recitation, we
can hardly suppose that from political feeling such a con-
clusion as the foregoing would have been retained after
the second Edward's death. It is worthy of remark, that
a poem apparently the same as this, is found in the
Auchinlec Manuscript, which seems, by the description of
Sir Walter Scott, to have been continued up to the begin-
ning of the next reign, when that manuscript was written.
— " He appears to have concluded his history during the
minority of Edward III The concluding para-
graph begins —

" Now Jesu Crist and seyn[t] Richard
Save the yong king Edward,
And jif him grace his land to jeme,
That it be Jesu Crist to queme,' &c."

Explicit liber Regum Anglice.

(II.) The poem of King Edward and the Shepherd,
which we have already described, and which is preserved

176 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

in this manuscript, bears internal proofs of having been
written during the reign of the second Edward. It must
not be forgotten that the spirit and apparent aim of this
cycle of poems was to stir up among the people loyalty
towards their king and hatred towards the overbearing
barons, and therefore it might naturally be expected, that
the king introduced as the object of their esteem would be
the reigning monarch.* The present poem may perhaps
have been an alteration of the previously existing ballad of
Edward the First and his Reeve, which is mentioned by
Percy as having been preserved in his folio manuscript.
In the poem we have mentioned, the king pretends that he
is a knight of the court. —

" My fader was a Walshe knyst,
Dame Isabell my moder hy3t,

For sothe as I tell the ;
In the castell was hir dwellyng,
Thorow commaundment of the kyng,

When she thar shuld be.
Now wayte thou wher that I was home ;
Thet other Edward here beforne

Full well he lovyd me."

The Welsh knight is evidently intended to be king
Edward the Second, whose queen was Isabelle, and we
might hence be inclined to suppose our disguised king to
be the third Edward, did not the expression " thet other

* When the reigning king was unpopular, the name of the preceding
king would probably be preserved in the popular poetry. The name of
Edward II, however, would not, we think, be suffered to take the place
of his successor. There seems, too, some reasons for thinking that the
writer of our poems was favorable to the royal party, during the
second Edward's reign.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 1/7

Edward," which is repeated thrice in the poem, seem
to prove decisively that when it was written, two Edwards
only had occupied the throne. Again, the passage imme-
diately following this, —

" I have a son is with the qwhene,
She lovys hym well, as I wene,

That dar I savely say ;
And he pray hir of a bone*
3if that hit be for to done,
She will not onys say nay,"

seems evidently to describe the young prince who was
afterwards Edward III. The third passage, moreover,
where this expression occurs,

" The stewarde seid to Joly Etobyn,t
1 Goo wesshe, sir, for it is tyme,

At the furst begynyng ;
And, for that odur Edwart love,
Thou shalt sitte here above,

In stidde alle of the kyng,' "

could hardly have been said, unless ' Joly Robyn ' were
Edward II. The following passage seems to fix the time
of its having been written to the period when the earls of
Lancaster and Warren were courted by the king, and when
there appeared to be some hopes of tranquillity in the
kingdom : — the shepherd had arrived at court, —

" ' Joly Robin,' he said, • I pray the,
Speke with me a worde in private.'

' For God,' said the kyng, ' gladly.'
He freyned the kyng in his ere,
What lordis that thei were
That stondis here hym bye.

* Pray hir of a bone, ask a boon of her. f i. e. the king Edward.

8§

173 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

1 The erle of Lancastur is thet on,
And the erle of Waryn sir John,

Bolde and as hardy :
Thei mow do mycull with the kyng,
I have tolde hem of thy thyng,'

Then seid he ' gramercy.' "

(III.) The only poem which seems to be of a more
recent date than the reign of Edward II. is the last
article but one of its contents, the prophecies of Thomas
of Erceldoun, of which this is by far the oldest and
best copy. The allusions, however, in this poem are
vague and uncertain, and admit of no better explanation
than can be given by mere conjectures. We have a
proof of this in the circumstance that Sir Walter Scott,
who had not seen the Cambridge MS. and was thus
obliged to rely upon the erroneous descriptions which have
been given of it, supposed it to contain allusions to the
battles of Floddon and Pinkie. It is a poem which seems
to have been republished at different times, with additional
circumstances, and more explicit allusions to those which
were supposed to have been accomplished. If the bastard,
mentioned in the third fit of our Cambridge copy, who was
to be the ruler of all Britain, be Edward the First — the
circumstance which was to mark the conclusion of his
reign —

" The bastard shalle go in the Holy Land ;
Trow this wel as I the say :
Tak his soule to his hande,

Jhesu Cyriste, that mycull may,"

proves it part of an edition published as early as 1306,
when that king made a vow to end his life in an expedition

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 179

against the Saracens. It is probable that in our Cambridge
copy there is no allusion to events of a later period than
the reign of Edward the Second. The curious mention of
Black Agnes, the celebrated countess of Dunbar, who de-
fended that castle against the English in 1337, seems to
create a difficulty. But there is in the poem no allusion to
that siege, we are not aware that the prophecy concerning
her end was ever fulfilled, and the whole seems to show
rather a feeling of resentment against her on the part of
the English, arising from her already established character
and her known opposition to the English interests. The
singular connexion, too, which is described as existing be-
tween her and Thomas, the supposititious author of the
prophecies, compared with the allusion at the head of the
brief prophecies in the Harleian MS. No. 2253,* of the
reign of the second Edward, would lead us to suppose that
the two pieces were contemporary.

Our conviction of the importance of establishing the age
of the pieces in this manuscript has perhaps led us to
make too long a digression from our more immediate
subject. If it be all a work of the reign of the second
Edward, or even supposing it to have been written at the
end of the century, and copied from an older collection,
there can be no doubt of the ballad it contains being
one of those popular songs of Robin Hood, to which
allusion is made in the history of Fordun, and by the
poet who wrote the visions of Piers Plowman. It shows
us, which indeed might be collected from the passage
of this latter poem where they are called ' rhymes,'

* La countesse de Donbar demanda a, Thomas de Escedoune, quant
la guere d'Escoce prendreit fin, e yl la respowndy e dyt, &c.

180 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

that these popular productions were not then written in
alliterative verse, but that they were composed in the same
metre which was the general characteristic of our black-
letter ballads. The earliest of the Robin Hood ballads,
which has been preserved, is written in a southern and
correct dialect, and is much superior in poetical execution
to any that follow. The opening is simple and beautiful.

" In somer when the shawes be sheyn,
And leves be large and long,
Hit is full mery in feyre foreste
To here the foulys song,

To se the dere draw to the dale

And leve the hilles hee,
And shadow hem in the leves grene

Under the grene-wode tre." *

One May morning, in Whitsuntide, when the sun shone
bright, and the birds sung, Robin Hood determined to go
to Nottingham to hear mass. Little John, who was his
only companion, proposed to ' shoot a penny ' as they
passed through the wood, and he having gained live shillings
from his master, a strife arose, which ended in their mu-
tually parting from each other. Little John returned to
the forest of Sherwood, and Robin Hood proceeded to
Nottingham, where he entered St. Mary's church, and
knelt down before the rood. A monk, whom he had robbed
of a hundred pounds, recognised him, and carried infor-
mation to the sheriff, who caused the gates of the town to
be closed, surrounded the church with his company, and
secured the outlaw, who broke his sword on the sheriff's

* Shanes be sheyn, woods are bright — hee, high.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 18l

head in defending himself. The monk was dispatched
with tidings to the king at London, and Little John and
Much, who had learned the disaster which had happened
to their master, determined to way-lay him.

" Forthe then went these 3emen too,
Litul Johan and Moche in fere,
And lokid on Moche emys hows ,
The hye-way lay full nere.

Litul Johan stode at a wyndow in the niornyng,

And lokid forth at a stage,
He was war when the munke came ridyng,

And wyth hym a litul page.

1 Be my feith,' seid Litul Johan to Moch,

1 1 can the tel tithyngus gode :
I se wher the munke cumys rydyng,

I know hym be his wyde hode.' "*

Little John and Much went to the monk, learnt from his
own mouth the tidings he carried, slew him and his page,
and themselves carried the letters of the sheriff to the king,
telling him that the monk who should have brought them
was dead by the way. He was much rejoiced by the con-
tents of the sheriff's letters, rewarded well the bearers,
made them both yeomen of the crown, and gave them letters
to the sheriff of Nottingham commanding that Robin
Hood should be sent to the king. On their arrival at Not-
tingham, they found the gates fastened, and they were not
admitted until they had shown the king's seal. When the
sheriff saw the letters, he inquired, naturally enough, after

* In fere, in company — emys, uncle's.

182 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

the monk, and was informed by little John that the king
was so gratified by the intelligence of which he had been
the bearer, that he had made him abbot of Westminster.
At night Little John and Much went to the jail.

" Litul Johan callid up the jayler,
And bade hym rise anon,
He seid Robyn Hode had brokyn preson
And out of hit was gon.

The porter rose anon, sertan,

As sone as he herd Johan calle.
Litul Johan was redy with a swerd,

And bare hym to the walle.

1 Now wil I be porter,' seid litul Johan,

' And take the keyes in honde.'
He toke the way to Robyn Hode,
And sone he hyin unbonde.

He gaf hym a gode swerde in his bond,

His hed with for to kepe ;
And ther as the walls were lowyst

Anon down can thei lepe."

When they reached the forest, Robin and Little John
were immediately reconciled, and the escape of the outlaw
was celebrated by festivity among his followers —

" They filled in wyne, and made hem glad,
Under the levys smale,
And jete pastes of venysan
That gode was with ale."

The anger of the king loses itself in his admiration of
the fidelity of Little John to his master —

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 183

" ' He is trew to his maister,' seide owre kyng,
1 1 sei, be swete seynt Johan,
He lovys better Robyn Hode
Then he dose us ychon.*

Robyn Hode is ever bond to hym,

Bothe in strete and stalle.
Speke no more of this mater,' seid oure kyng,

' But Johan has begyled us alle.' "

In the foregoing ballad we recognize the same popular
story, which again appears in the more northern ballad of
■ Adam Bel, Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudis-
lee ; ' three outlaws who made free with the king's deer in
the forest of Inglewood in Cumberland. William visited
his wife at Carlisle, and was recognized by an old woman,
who carried information to the sheriff ; the towns-people
were raised, the house surrounded, and the outlaw taken,
after a desperate resistance, in which his bow was broken.
He was condemned to be hanged, but his companions
entered the town by showing to the porter a letter which,
as they pretended, bore the king's seal, and succeeded in
liberating William, and carrying him to the green wood,
where he found his wife and children. The king was much
enraged when he heard of his escape, but in the end the
yeomen were pardoned.

While speaking of this ballad of Adam Bel, &c. of the
age of which we are very uncertain, the earliest copy of it
being a black-letter tract of the earlier part of the sixteenth
century, we may observe, that it contains another popular
story which became one of the Robin Hood cycle, that

* Ychon. each one.

184 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

wherein the outlaws go to the king for pardon, which they
obtain by the intercession of the queen, who favours them.

There existed, previous to the middle of the fifteenth
century, another Robin Hood ballad, wherein the hero was
brought into peril by his devout attendance upon mass,
and which may be rightly placed in the class of contes
devots, or saint's legends. We have already expressed a
doubt of the authenticity of the passage of Fordun, where
mention is made of our hero ; indeed, it has every appear-
ance of being an interpolation, it only being found in one
of the late manuscripts, and differing so much from that
author's general manner. The name of Robin Hood is
mentioned merely for the sake of introducing the story
of this ballad, how, in his retreat in Barnsdale, he heard
mass regularly every day, how in the midst of his
devotions, he was one day warned of the approach of
the sheriff and his officers ; how he disdained to retreat
until the holy service was ended — and how, for his piety,
an easy victory was given him over his too numerous
enemies, in consequence of which he ever afterwards held
the clergy in special esteem.

The second ballad, apparently, in point of antiquity
which has been preserved, occurs also in a manuscript of
the Public Library of the University of Cambridge, marked
Ee. 4, 35, written not, as Ritson imagined, in the reign of
Henry the Seventh, but in that of Henry the Sixth, as ap-
pears by a memorandum on one page, setting forth the
expenses of the feast on the marriage of the king with
Margaret : — " Thys ys exspences of fflesche at the manage
of my ladey Marg'et, that sche had owt off Eynglonde,"
&c. The orthography is rude, and the dialect would seem
to be that of some one of our midland counties. It would

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 185

appear, too, by the blunders with which it abounds, to have
been taken down from recitation.

In this ballad, Robin Hood is represented as visiting the
sheriff in the disguise of a potter, to whom he had given
his own garments. Robin carried his ware to Nottingham,
where he put up his horse, and cried " Pots ! Pots ! " in
the midst of the town, right opposite the sheriff's gate.
He sold his pots quickly, because he gave for threepence
what was worth fivepence, and when he had but five left,
he sent them as a present to the sheriff's wife. In return
for this courtesy, the pretended potter was invited to dine
with the sheriff, who received him kindly, and during the
dinner mention was made of a great shooting match for
forty shillings, which was soon to be tried. The potter
went to the shooting, and, borrowing a bow of the sheriff,
proved himself more skilful in its use than the sheriff's
men. He then took a bow from his cart, which he said
had been given him by Robin Hood, on which the sheriff
demanded if he knew the outlaw, and if he would lead
him to where he might be found. The potter immediately
offered to be his guide, and on the morrow they travelled
together towards the forest, where the birds were singing
on the branches.

" And when he cam yn to the fforeyst,
Yender the leffes grene,
Berdys there sange on howhes prest,
Het was gret goy to se.

' Here het ys merey to be/ sayde Roben,
' For a man that had hawt to spende.

Be may home he schall awet,
Yef Roben Hode be here.' " *

* Yender, under — <joy, joy — hawt, anything — he, ye — Yef, if.

186 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

At the sound of Robin's horn, Little John and his com-
panions hastened to the spot, welcomed the sheriff, and,
before he left them, deprived him of his horse and his
" other gere." " Hither you come on horse," said Robin,
who had now thrown aside his assumed character, " and
home you shall go on foot. Greet well the good woman
your wife : I send her, as a present, a white palfrey, which
ambles as the wind. For her sake you shall receive no
further harm." The sheriff, glad to escape, carried home
the message to his wife : —

" With that she toke op a lowde lawhyng,
And swhare, be hem that deyed on tre,
' Now haffe yow payed ffor all the pottys
That Robin gaffe to me.' "

The histories of Hereward, Eustace the Monk, and Fulke
fitz Warine, are extremely interesting to us, as proving
how common in those ages were the kind of stories which
formed the material of our Robin Hood ballads. The
same stratagems, which outwitted the sheriff and his men,
were used by Eustace to deceive the count of Boulogne.
Eustace, as well as Hereward, adopted on one occasion the
disguise of a potter, whom he had compelled to exchange
garments with him.

In a collection of songs and carols among the Sloane
manuscripts, in the British Museum, which an incidental
coincidence has proved to be written in the Warwickshire
dialect, perhaps nearly contemporary with the ballad last
mentioned, is a song that appears to belong to our cycle,
at least by its subject, if not by the person whose death it
celebrates. It recounts the fate of a yeoman named Robin,

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 187

who had gone to the green wood with his companion
Gandeleyn : —

" I herde a carpyng of a clerk
Al at jone wodes ende,
Of gode Robyn and Gandeleyn
Was ther non other gynge ;

Stronge thevys wern tho chylderin non,

But bowmen gode and hende ;
He wentyn to wode to getyn hem fleych,*

If God wold it hem sende."

Towards evening they met with half a hundred fallow
deer, of which the fattest fell by Robin's arrow. Scarcely
( had the deer fallen, when Robin himself was felled by an
arrow from an unknown hand —

" Gandeleyn lokyd kym est and lokyd west,
And sowt under the sunne,
He saw a lytil boy he clepyn
Wrennok of Doune ;

A good bowe in kis kond,

A brod arewe tkerine,
And fowre and xx. goode arwis

Trusyd in a tkrumme."

1 Wrennok/ it would appear, was one of the keepers of
the forest, and he immediately challenged Gandeleyn.
They let fly their arrows at each other, and the former was
slain. The exultation of Gandeleyn on having thus re-
venged the death of his master Robin, finishes his song : —

* Fleych, flesh.

188 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

" Now xalt thu never 3elpe, Wrennok,
At ale ne at wyn,
That thu hast slawe goode Robyn
And his knave Gandeleyn ;

Now xalt thu never jelpe, Wrennok,

At wyn ne at ale,
That thu hast slawe goode Robyn

And Gandeleyyn his knawe." *

These are all the genuine remains of the early Robin
Hood cycle, which we at present possess. We come now
to that singular production, the " Lytell Geste of Robyn
Hode," which was first printed by Wynkyn de Worde, at
the latter end of the fifteenth century, and which would
seem to be an attempt to string together some of the bal-
lads that were then popular, into something like a consis-
tent story. It is, in fact, an epic poem, and it is, as such,
both perfect and beautiful.

One, perhaps, of the ballads which contributed to the
formation of this poem, may have been simply the adven-
ture of Robin Hood and the Knight, which here occupies
the first and second f fyttes,' and is made to run more or
less through the whole. The knight was a character res-
pected by the peasantry, and in the personage of the
unfortunate and injured Sir Richard of the Lee, he proba-
bly drew forth as much commiseration from those to whom
the adventure was sung in the village alehouse, as in the
courtly hall of the nobles when he appeared in misfortune
in the romances of Sir Cleges or Sir Amadas. They were all
the same story, under different forms, in the one instance

* Xalt, shalt — $elpe, boast.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 189

reduced to a popular shape. Robin sends Little John,
Much, and Scathelock, to seek for a guest to dinner, having
first admonished them that they should not injure husband-
men, good yeomen, or knights and squires who were good
fellows, but that their hostilities should be more particu-
larly directed against bishops and archbishops, and, above
all, against the sheriff of Nottingham : —

" But loke ye do no housbonde harme
That tylleth with his plough ;

No more ye shall no good yeman
That walketh by grene-wode shawe,

Ne no knyght, ne no squyer,
That wolde be a good felawe.

These byshoppes and thyse archebyshoppes,

Ye shall them bete and bynde ;
The hye sheryfe of Notynghame,

Hym holde in your raynde."

The party went up to the ' Sayles ' and Watling-street,
and at length they espied a knight, all dreary and melan-
choly, riding by a ' derne strete ' in Barnysdale. Little
John addressed him courteously, and bade him to dinner
with his master, who, he said, had been long waiting
for him. Robin Hood received the stranger with a hearty
welcome, treated him with great respect, and they sat down
together to a handsome feast ; after which, according to
custom, the outlaws were proceeding to make him ' pay for
his dinner.' But the knight excused himself on the ground
of having only ten shillings in his possession, which, on
searching his coffer, was found to be true, and he told the
history of his misfortunes.

190 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

" ' Within two or three yere, Robyn,' he sayd,
' My neyghbores well it kende,
Foure hondreth pounde of good money
Full wel than myght I spende.

Now have I no good,' sayd the knyght,

' But my chyldren and my wyfe ;
God hath shapen such an ende,

Tyll God may amende my lyfe.'

' In what maner,' sayd Robyn,

' Hast thou lows thy ryches ?'
' For my grete foly,' he sayd,

4 And for my kindenesse.

I had a sone, for soth, Robin,

That sholde have ben my eyre,
When he was twenty wynter olde,

In felde wolde juste full feyre :

He slew a knight of Lancastshyre,

And a squyre bolde :
For to save hym in his ryght

My goodes beth sette and solde ;

My londes beth sette to wedde, Robyn,*

Untyll a certayne daye,
To a ryche abbot here besyde,

Of Saynt Mary abbey.' "

Robin generously lent the knight, for a year, four hun-
dred pounds, the sum for which his estates had been
pledged, and the outlaws clothed him in new habits be-
coming his profession, Little John being equipped as his

* Wedde, pledge.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 191

squire. By this means the knight regained his lands, but
his friendship for the forester drew him into fresh misfor-
tunes, till finally Robin and Sir Richard were both recon-
ciled to the king.

The next ballad which seems to have been used in the
compilation of this fgeste/ was the same story, a little
varied in its details, with that of Robin and the potter,
already noticed. Little John, in disguise, distinguished
himself at an archery match held by the sheriff of Not-
tingham. The sheriff, pleased with his skill, asked his
name, was told that it was * Reynaud Grenelefe,' and finally
hired him for twenty marks a year. One day he was left
at home, without provisions, which he took from the larder
and buttery, in spite of the steward and butler, but the
cook fought with him desperately, and in the end they
agreed to go together to Robin Hood, which they did,
taking with them the sheriff's plate and money, and were
joyously received by the outlaws. Thereupon, Little John,
still in his disguise as the sheriff's man, sought his master
in the forest, where he was hunting, told him that he had
just seen seven score of deer in a herd ; and under pre-
tence of leading him to the place, took him to Robin
Hood, by whom he was feasted in his own plate, and was
afterwards punished by being compelled to lie all night
bare on the ground with the outlaws. Before he was
allowed to depart, the sheriff swore solemnly that he would
never injure Robin or his men.

The third ballad used in the formation of this ' geste,'
was one of Robin Hood and the monk. Little John, with
Much and Scathelock, go up to the Sayles and Watling-
street, and in Barnisdale meet with two black monks and

192 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

their attendants. The latter were defeated, and one of
the monks was brought to dine in the outlaw's ' lodge.'

" Robyn dyde adowne his hode
The monk whan that he se ;*
The monk was not so curteyse,
His hode then let he be.

* He is a chorle, mayster, by dere worthy God,'

Then said Lytell Johan.
'Thereof no force,' sayd Robyn,

' For curteysy can he none.' "

Robin called together his men, and compelled the monk
to join them at their meal. After dinner the outlaw,
naturally enough, inquired after the monk's money : —

" ' What is in your cofers ?' sayd Robyn,

I Trewe than tell thou me.'

' Syr,' he sayd, ' twenty marke,
Al so mote I the.'

1 Yf there be no more,' sayd Robyn,

I I wyll not one peny ;

Yf thou hast myster of ony more,
Syr, more I shall lende to the ;

And yf I fynde more,' sayd Robyn,

1 1-wys thou shalte it for-gone
For of thy spendynge sylver, monk,

Therof wyll I ryght none.

* i. e. When he saw the monk.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 193

Go nowe forthe, Lytell Johan,

And the trouth tell thou me ;
If there be no more but twenty marke,

No peny that I se.'

Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe,

As he had done before,
And he tolde out of the lnonkes male,

Eyght hundreth pounde and more. " *

The monk was robbed of his money, and dismissed.

A similar story is told of Eustace the Monk, in the cu-
rious Norman poem of the thirteenth century to which
we have already alluded. Eustace was lurking with
his men, as usual, in the territory of Boulogne — (I.
1745).

" Li abbes de Jumiaus venoit ;
Wistasce esgarde, si le voit :
' Dans abbes,' dist-il, ' estes la ;
Que portes-vous, ne 1' celes ja?'
Dist li abbes : ( A vous c'afiert ?'
A poi c'Uistasces ne le fiert :
' C'afiert a moi, sire coillart !
Par ma teste ! g'i aurai part.
Descended tost, n'en paries plus,
Ou vous seres ja si batus
Ne la vauriies pour .c. livres.'
Li abbes [cuide] k'il soit ivres ;
II l'a . . molt douchement.
Dist a i'abes ; Ales-vous-ent ;
N'est pas ichi que vous queres.

* Al so mote I the, as I may thrive — myster, need— forgone, lose —
male, box.

VOL. II. 9

194 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

Wistasces dist : ' Ne me cines ;
Descended jus isnielement,
Ou la vous ira malement.'
L'abbes descent, grant paor a.
Et Wistasces li demanda
Combien il porte od lui d 'avoir.
Dist li abbes : '.iiij. mars voir,
J'ai od moi .iiij. mars d'argent.'
Wistasces l'escouce erramment ;
Bien trouva .xxx. mars ou puis,
Les .iiij. mars li a rendus,
Tant cum il dist que il avoit.
Li abbes fu corechies a droit.
Se li abbes eust dit voir,
Tout r'eust eu son avoir.
Li abbes son avoir perdi
Pour tant seulement 'il menti."

The abbot of Jumiaux came by :
Eustace looks and sees him.
1 Dan abbot,' said he, ' stand there :
What do you carry ? Do not conceal it.'
Said the abbot, ' What is that to you ?'
Eustace was near striking him.
' What is it to me, sir scoundrel
By my head ! I will have a part of it.
Come down quickly ; speak no more of that.
Or you shall be so beaten,
As you would not for a hundred pounds. '
The abbot thought that he was drunk ;
He remonstrated very gently.
The abbot said, ' Go along !
What you seek is not here.'
Eustace said, ' Mock not at me ;
Descend quickly,
Or it will go ill with you there.'

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 195

The abbot descends ; he has great fear ;

And Eustace demanded of him,

How much money he carries with him,

Said the abbot, ' Four marks, truly ;

I have with me four marks of silver.'

Eustace immediately lifted up his gown ;

He found full thirty marks or more.

The four marks he has given him back,

As much as he said he had.

The abbot was of course cross.

If the abbot had said the truth,

He would have had again all his property.

The abbot lost his property

Only because he lied."

Perhaps the only other ballad used by the compiler of
the * geste' was that which furnished the last two fits, the
meeting of Robin and the king ; and it would seem that he
had used the ' explicit' of the ballad itself, or that he had
it in his mind, when he wrote at the end — " Explycit
kynge Edwarde and Robyn Hode and Lytell Johan."
The mention of king Edward, the first instance of the
name of a king which occurs in these ballads, is itself
curious. Does it show that the ballad which the writer of
the ' geste' used, was written in the reign of one of the
Edwards, and that in the cycle sung at the Robin Hood
festivals, when the king was introduced, they gave him
the name of the king at the time reigning, as we have seen
was the case in a collateral cycle.-

The king and his knights came to Nottingham to take
Robin Hood : —

" There our kynge was wont to se

Herdes many one,
He coud unneth fynde one dere.

That bare ony good home."

196 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

The loss of his deer enraged the king, and he waited
half a year at Nottingham in hope of hearing some news
of the outlaw, but in vain. At length a forester offered to
gratify the king with a sight of Robin Hood, if he would
venture with five of his knights, all in the disguise of
monks, where he would lead him. The king accepted
the offer, took himself the disguise of an abbot, and rode,
singing by the way, to the ' grene-wode.' There he was
accosted by Robin Hood, who demanded of him his money,
of which however he accepted only the half, giving him
back the rest for his ' spendynge.'

" Full curteysly Robyn gan say,

' Syr, have this for your spendyng,
We shall mete another day.'

' Gramercy/ then sayd our kynge.

1 But well the greteth Edwarde our kynge,

And sent to the his seale,
And byddeth the com to Notyngham,

Both to mete and mele.'

He toke out the hrode tarpe,

And sone he lete hym se.
Robyn coud his courteysy,

And set hym on his kne.

' I love no man in all the worlde

So well as I do my kynge.
Welcome is my lordes seale ;

And, monke, for thy tydynge,

Syr abbot, for thy tydynges,

To day thou shalt dyne with me,
For the love of my kynge,

Under my trystell tre.' "

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 197

Accordingly, he led the abbot to the table, and, at the
sound of his horn, seven score of his men came * on a

" All they kneeled on theyr kne,
Full fayre before Robyn.
The kynge sayd hymselfe untyll,
And swore by saynt Austyn,

' Here is a wonder semely syght,

Me thynketh, by Goddes pyne :*
His men are more at his byddynge

Then my men be at myn.' "

After dinner there was shooting, the marks being, as
the abbot thought, too long by fifty paces, and it was
agreed that every one who missed should lose his arrow
and receive a buffet on the head, which buffet Robin
administered without mercy to all who incurred the penalty.
At length Robin missed the mark himself :

" At the last shot that Robyn shot,
For all his frendes fare,
Yet he fayled of the garlonde
Thre fyngers and mare.

Then bespake good Gylberte,

And thus he gan say :
' Mayster,' he sayd, 'your takyll is lost,

Stand forth and take your pay.'

' If it be so,' sayd Robyn,

' That may no better be ;
Sir abbot, I delyver the myn arowe,

I pray the, syr, serve thou me.'

* Pyne, suffering.

1 98 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

' It falleth not for myn order,' sayd our kyng,

1 Robyn, by thy leve,
For to smyte no good yeman,

For doute I shoude hym greve.'

1 Smyte on boldely,' sayd Robyn,

' I give the large leve.'
Annone our kynge, with that worde,

He folde up his sieve,

And sych a buffet he gave Robyn,

To grounde he yede full nere.*
' I make myn avowe to God,' sayd Robyn,

' Thou arte a stalworthe frere.

There is pith in thyn arme,' sayd Robyn,
I trowe thou canst well shote.' "

The strength of his arm excited suspicion, for it was
one of the qualifications of royalty ; the king was recog-
nized ; all the outlaws fell upon ther knees before him,
and Robin asked pardon for their trespasses, which was
granted, and he himself was taken to court. On their
return to Nottingham, the king and his attendants having
been clad in the outlaw's livery, 'Lincolne grene,' they
went shooting along the way : —

" Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder,
For soth as I you say,
And they shote plucke buffet,
As they went by the way ;

And many a buffet our kynge wan

Of Robyn Hode that day ;
And nothynge spared good Robyn

Our kynge in his pay."

* Yede, went.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 199

Robin, however, was soon tired of court, and returned
to his former life and haunts, where he lived twenty-two
years, till he was betrayed by the prioress of ' Kyrkesly,'
for the love of Sir Roger of Doncaster ' that was her owne
speciall/

We have now given an abstract of all the remains of
the cycle of Robin Hood, in its older form. We have
seen that it consisted of the common popidar stories of
outlaw warfare in the green wood, as they were sung at
the festivals and rejoicings of the peasantry, with whom,
at the time the songs were made, such tales must na-
turally have been favourites. As far as we can judge,
the different incidents of the cycle were not numerous,
and it is probable that the compiler of the ( geste' intro-
duced into it all that he knew. This poem, indeed, seems
at the period of its publication to have been the grand
representative of the cycle, and to have contained at least
most of that which was commonly sung about the roads
and streets. In a curious " lytell geste" printed also by
Wynkyn de Worde, and of which, as far as we know,
the only copy extant is preserved in the public library.
Cambridge,* teaching " how the plowman lerned his pater
noster," which was contrived by the priest, who sent to
him in a time of scarcity, a number of poor men in proper
order, each having for name one of the words of the
prayer, on promise of paying the plowman if he remem-
bered them in the order in which they came ; five of
them seem to have sung this very geste. The passage,
by the way, was unknown to Ritson when he compiled his
preface.

* This " geste" is printed in the first volume of the Reliquice Antique
p. 43.

200 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

" Then came Panem, Nostrum, Cotidianum, Da nobis, Hodie,
Amonge them fyve they had but one peny,
That was gyven them for Goddes sake,
They sayde therwith that they wolde mery make,
Eche had two busshelles of whete that was gode,
They songe goynge homewarde a gest of Robyn Hode."

When ballads began to be printed, and were spread over
the country in the shape of broadsides, the few which
had existed when their chief repository was the memory
of the peasantry, was found to be insufficient. The more
easily it was gratified, the more greedy became the desire
after novelty. But the ballad-writers of after-times were
not endowed with very inventive minds ; and it was, there-
fore, much more usual to change a little the circumstances
and persons of the older stories, and to publish them to
the world as new, than to write originals. It would not
be difficult to point out examples of this among the modern
ballads. That originals, however, were written, there can
be no doubt. It was now, indeed, that outward causes
began to affect the cycle, for the romances of the Normans
had become degraded, and had taken popular forms, and
even their stories have found a place among those of Robin
Hood and Little John.

The foregoing slight review of the material of the cycle,
and of the nature of the stories which formed it, brings us
at once to conclude that the character and popular history of
Robin Hood was formed upon the ballads, and not the
ballads upon the person. There arises, however, there-
upon, an interesting question — who was the person that in
these ballads bears the name or title of Robin Hood ? — a
question at the same time which certainly does not admit
of a very easy solution.

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 201

The notion that he was a person living in the time of
our first Richard or third Henry, seems to rest entirely
on the passage in the history of Fordun, which passage, as
we have already said, was written perhaps not earlier than
the middle of the fifteenth century, and of which the only
foundation was one of the ballads in which the name of a
king Henry occurred, probably proving only that the ballad
was written in the reign of a king of that name. Wyn-
town, also, who places Robin Hood at the date 1283, by
his mention of Inglewood and Barnesdale, had evidently
the ballads in his mind.

" Lytil Jhon and Robyn Hude
Wayth-nien were commendyd gud :
In Yngilwode and Barnysdale,
Thai oysyd all this tyme thare trawale."

The life, by Ritson, prefixed to his edition of the Robin
Hood ballads, with the pedantic notes which illustrate it,
is the barren production of a poor mind. The "accurate"
mister Ritson, who condemned with such asperity the
slightest wanderings of the imaginations of others, has
therein exhibited some truly pleasant vagaries of his
own. He gives us an essay upon the private character of
the outlaw ! His mode of accounting for the silence with
which the chroniclers and historians of those times have
passed over the name of Robin Hood, is itself curious : —
" The principal if not sole reason why our hero is never
once mentioned by Matthew Paris, Benedictus Abbas, or
any other ancient English historian, was most probably his
avowed enmity to churchmen ; and history, in former times,
was written by none but monks. They were unwilling to

9§

202 POPULAR CYCLE OF 1HE

praise the actions which they durst neither misrepresent
nor deny. Fordun and Major [who, by the way, only
retailed Fordun in this matter] being foreigners, have not
been deterred by this professional spirit from rendering
homage to his virtues ! !" Where Ritson learnt that it
was the habit of the early historians to omit mention of
those who had an "avowed enmity to churchmen," or
what influence the fact of their being foreigners could
have on their professional spirit, does not appear to be a
thing easy to be discovered. The circumstance that no
one ever heard of such a place is not sufficient to justify
even a suspicion in his mind that there ever existed such
a town as Locksley, in Nottinghamshire, where the latter
ballads place Robin's birth. Lastly, after all that Ritson
might have thought proper to advance to the contrary, we
are inclined to join with Mr. Parkin, whom he quotes with
a sneer, in thinking the pedigree of Robin Hood, which
was given by Dr. Stukeley, to be "quite jocose."

Mr. Barry, in his " These de Litterature," has advanced
an ingenious and much more plausible theory. He, as we
have already observed, supposes that Robin Hood was one of
the outlaws who had resisted the first intrusions of the Nor-
mans, and compares him with Hereward, who returned
from foreign lands to avenge the injury done to his family
by William, by the death of the Norman who had had the
temerity to intrude upon his heritage, and who gathered
his friends and supporters and retired to the fastnesses of the
isle of Ely, where he long bade defiance to the Conqueror.

" Tous ces hommes qui restaient des outlaws, malgre
leur physionomie et leur denomination nouvelle, avaient
un caractere commun. Saxons, ils detestaient les Nor-

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 203

mands, leurs officiers sans pitie, et leurs pretres avides. . . .
Mais en revanche, ils etaient les amis des pauvres, des
opprinies, du peuple reste Saxon, qui les aimait a son tour
sans reserve et sans arriere-pensee. . . . Tel etait dans ses
traits saillants le caractere des outlaws Anglo-Saxons du
xiie siecle. Une vie inquiete dans les bois ou dans les
marais, une haine bien tranche contre les oppresseurs
etrangers, barons, sheriffs, ou eveques, une sympathie tres
vive pour les desherites de toutes les classes ; et avec le
temps, une sorte d' affection pour cette vie qu'ils n'ont
point choisie, un amour naif pour ce bois vert ou ils etaient
exiles. II y a toute raison de croire que Robin Hood etait,
historiquement parlant, un homme comme ceux-la, parta-
geant leurs habitudes, leurs inclinations, et leurs haines,
maudit comme eux par les Normands de race dont Fordun
s'est fait le dernier echo. Du reste, nous ne savons rien
de plus precis sur sa vie ou son caractere." (pp. 6-8.)

Mr. Barry supposes that songs, such as those which
Ingulf mentions as having been sung in the public ways in
honour of the popular hero Hereward, were the original
form of the Robin Hood ballads.

We think, however, that Mr. Barry has gone too far.
There is no other ground but bare conjecture for suppos-
ing the personage named Robin Hood to have been actually
one of the Saxons outlawed by their opposition to the
Normans, and there are many reasons for adopting a con-
trary opinion. Yet it is very possible that, when the sud-
den change from Saxon to Norman rule was no longer felt,
and when the deeds of these Saxon heroes began to be for-
gotten, the Robin Hood cycle, let it have originated where
it may, gradually succeeded to, and took the place of, the
ballads which celebrated Hereward and Waltheof.

204 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

Still, however, supposing the Robin Hood cycle to have
succeeded the ballads which celebrated the last Saxon
heroes, we have made no progress towards a discovery of
the original personage who had become its hero. Was he
the representative of some northern chieftain whose actions
had gained a place among the national myths, and who
had become an object of popular superstition ? Many
circumstances join in making this supposition at the least
extremely probable.

We know that the ballads of this cycle were intimately
connected with the popular festival held at the beginning
of May. Indeed, either express mention of it, or a vivid
description of the season, in the older ballads, shows that
the feats of the hero were generally performed during this
month. Unfortunately, we cannot distinctly trace back
further than the fifteenth century the history of these
games, and their connexion with the name of Robin Hood.
" Sir John Paston, in the time of king Edward IV. com-
plaining of the ingratitude of his servants, mentions one
who had promised never to desert him, ' and theruppon,'
says he, * I have kepyd hym thys iii. yer to pleye seynt
Jorge, and Robyn Hod and the shryf of Notyngham,
and now when I wolde have good horse, he is goon into
Bernysdale, and I without a keeper.' " The allusion is
evidently to some story or ballad which then existed (similar
to that of Reynaud Grenlefe) where Robin in disguise had
hired himself as a groom to the sheriff, and had afterwards
stolen his horses. This is a very favorite stratagem in
the Roman of Eustace le Moine, who, more than once, in
disguise, carries away the horses of the count of Boulogne.

Ritson, from whom the above extract was taken, asserts
that the May festival owed its origin to meetings for the

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 205

purpose of practising with the bow. There can be little
doubt, however, that Ritson was wrong, that the archery
was an addition to the festival, and that the latter was,
in its earlier form among our Pagan forefathers, a reli-
gious celebration, though, like such festivals in general,
it possessed a double character, that of a religious cere-
mony and of an opportunity for the performance of warlike
games. With the changes which this festival experienced
at different periods we are not well acquainted ; but a
circumstance has been preserved which seems to illus-
trate the subject, so far as regards the nature of the
ceremony.

Adjoining to Cambridge there is a village called Barn-
well, which was once celebrated for its abbey, and for the
well which was enclosed within the abbey walls. The old
chronicler of the monastery, whom Leland, if we remember
right, read in its library, derived the name of the place
from the Saxon beorna wil, which he interpreted, accord-
ing to the acceptation in which the word beom was taken
in his days, the well of the lads, but which a fe^ ages
earlier would have signified the well of the champions.
The story he tells in illustration of the name is this. From
time immemorial it had been a custom for the young men
and lads of the vicinity to assemble here at a particular
period of the year, to perform gymnastic exercises and
warlike games, and hence the well received its name. The
circumstance of the meeting having been held at a well,
proves that it had something religious in its character.
After the entrance of the Normans, in addition to the
games and festivities, it had become customary to hold there
a market, and the festival seems to have taken the charac-
ter of what we now call a wake or fair. The monastery

20G POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

was founded in the reign of the first William, in a position
nearer to the castle ; but the place where the festival was
held having been judged more convenient, and the Nor-
mans paying little respect to the popular prejudices of the
Saxons, the second founder, in the following reign, built it
in this new situation, and the fair was afterwards held in
another spot. Perhaps it is still preserved in what is
called the Pot Fair, which is held in the month of June.
The name of the well was given to the monastery and to
the village.*

Here we have an allusion to a festival similar in object,
if not in the period of its celebration, to the May games of
after ages. At such festivals the songs would take the
character of the amusements on the occasion, and would
most likely celebrate warlike deeds — perhaps the myths of
the patron whom superstition supposed to preside o\rer
them. As the character of the exercises changed, the
attributes of this patron would change also ; and he who
was once celebrated as working wonders with his good

* The original chartulary of Barnwell, where the origin of the
name of the well is thus told, is preserved in the British Museum : —
" Impetravit ille egregius Paganus Peverel a rege Henrico locum quen-
dam extra burgum Cantebrigiae, a magna platea usque in riveriam Can-
tebrigiae se extendentem, et amcenitate situs loci satis delectabilem.
Porro de illius loci medio fonticuli satis puri et vividi emanahant,
Anglice barnewelle, id est fontes jmerorum, eo tempore appellati, eo
quod pueri et adolescentes semel per annum in vigiliis scilicet Nativi-
tatis Sancti Johannis Baptistae, illic convenientes, more Anglorum luc-
tamina et alia ludicria exercebant puerilia, et cantilenis et musicis
instrumentis sibi invicem applaudebant. Unde propter turbam pue-
rorum et puellarum illic concurrentium et ludentium, mos inolevit ut
in eodem die illic conveniret negociandi gratia turba vendentium et
ementium," &c. (MS. Harl. 3601. fol. 12. v°.)

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 20/

axe or his elf-made sword, might afterwards assume the
character of a skilful bowman. The scene of his actions
would likewise change — and the person whose weapons
were the bane of dragons and giants, who sought them in
the wildernesses they infested, might become the enemy
only of the sheriff and his officers under the " grene-wode
lefe." As the original character became unintelligible to
the peasantry, amongst whom all these changes were taking
place, the name also might run into one more popular, and
the hero of Saxon story might be brought to assume the
simple title, which every one would understand, of Robin
with the Hood. That this was a part of his dress we are
assured by a passage of one of the older ballads already
quoted : —

" Robyn dyde adowne his hode,
The monk whan that he see."

An instance of a similar name having been derived from an
apparently similar circumstance, has been often pointed
out in the German familiar spirit Hudekin.

We are, however, not opposed to the conjecture which
has been made, that the name Robin Hood is but a cor-
ruption of Robin of the Wood, because we find analogies
in other languages. The name of Witikind, the famous
opponent of Charlemagne, who always fled before his
sight, concealed himself in the forests, and returned again
in his absence, is no more than witu chint, in old High
Dutch, and signifies the son of the wood, an appellation
which he could never have received at his birth, since it
denotes an exile or outlaw. Indeed, the name Witikind,
though such a person seems to have existed, appears to
be the representative of all the defenders of his country

208 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

against the invaders. The old Norse expressions skogyanyr
and skogarmadr, which denote an outlaw, are literally one
who goes in the woods, a man of the woods, as is icrdar-
madr, one who hides himself among the rocks. They cor-
respond to the Anglo-Saxon weald-genga. The Servians
have a remarkable expression, schuma ti mati, the wood
be thy mother, that is, save thyself by flight, hide thyself
in the wood. (See Dr. Grimm's Deutsche Rechts Alter-
thiimer, p. 733.) Jamieson has printed a modern ballad
which, evidently to account for the name of our hero, sup-
posing it to be Robin of the Wood, makes him the off-
spring of a baron's daughter, who had been gotten with
child by her father's butler, and who had been compelled
to make the wild wood the scene of Robin's birth. The
name, however, is easily explained, when we know that
at least as early as the fourteenth century Robin Hood had
become the representative of the English outlaws. In the
tale of Gamelin, one of the oldest of the supposititious
works of Chaucer, — which has evidently some connexion
with the Robin Hood cycle, and the name too bears a great
resemblance to that of Gandeleyn which has already oc-
curred— the outlaw seeks the woods as a shelter from the
oppressions of his own kindred.

It is rather a remarkable confirmation of the northern
origin of Robin Hood, that one circumstance of an early
ballad of the cycle, (Adam Bell, Clym of the Clough, and
William of Cloudeslee), when the latter yeoman shoots the
apple off his son's head, is known to be a northern story,
and is related by the historian Saxo.

One of the strongest proofs, perhaps, of the mythic cha-
racter of Robin Hood, is the connexion of his name with
mounds and stones, such as our peasantry always attri-

ROBIN HOOD BALLADS. 209

buted to the fairies of their popular superstition. A tumu-
lus was generally the habitation of the underground people,
a well or a ruin was the ehosen place of their gambols,
and a spot which exhibits marks of some violent natural
convulsion was a testimony of their vengeance. These
were the dwarfs of the northern mythology; but the giants
of the same creed left also marks of their presence in the
loose masess of stone which, in their anger or in their
playfulness, they had thrown to immense distances, and in
others, more regularly placed, which had once served to
mark the length of their steps.

Sometimes our hero is identified with the dwarfs of the
popular creed. The barrows in the neighbourhood of
Whitby and Guisbrough bear his name, and the peasantry
have created a story that they were the buts where he
placed his marks. A large tumulus we know well in our
own county, near Ludlow in Shropshire, which is also
called Robin Hood's But, and which affords us a curious
instance how new stories were often invented to account
for a name whose original import was forgotten. The cir-
cumstances, too, in this case prove that the story was of
late invention. The barrow, as regarded superstitiously,
had borne the name of Robin Hood. On the roof of one
of the chancels of the church of Ludlow, which is called
Fletchers' chancel, as having been, when " the strength of
England stood upon archery," the place where the fletchers
held their meetings, and which is distant from the aforesaid
barrow two miles or two miles and a half, there stands an
iron arrow as the sign of their craft. The imagination of the
people of the place, after archery and fletchers had been
forgotten, and when Robin Hood was known only as an
outlaw and a bowman, made a connexion between the

210 POPULAR CYCLE OF THE

barrow (from its name) and the chancel (from the arrow
on its roof), and a tale was invented how the outlaw once
stood upon the former and took aim at the weathercock on
the church steeple, but the distance being a little too great,
the arrow fell short of its mark and remained up to the
present day on the roof of the chancel. Near Gloucester
also, and near Castleton in Derbyshire, are Robin Hood's
hills. In Lancashire, in Yorkshire, and in Nottingham-
shire, there are wells which bear his name, and that in
Lancashire is surrounded by places which have been long
occupied by the fairies. It may also be noted as a curious
circumstance, proving the antiquity of this connexion of
the outlaw with these objects of popular superstition, as
having been carried by the English settlers into Ireland,
that Little John has his hill near Dublin.

At other times Robin Hood figures as one of the giants.
Blackstone Edge in Lancashire, as we learn from Roby's
Lancashire Legends, is called Robin Hood's bed or Robin
Hood's chair. On a black moor called Monstone Edge, is
a huge moor-stone or outlier, which, though part of it has
been broken off and removed, still retains the name of
Monstone ; it is said to have been quoited thither by
Robin Hood from his bed on the top of Blackstone Edge,
about six miles off. After striking the mark aimed at, the
stone bounded off a few hundred yards, and settled where
it now stands. A heap of old ruins at Kenchester, the
site of the Roman Ariconium, was in Leland's time called
the King of Fairies' chair, and King Arthur has many
a chair and bed in Wales and Cornwall. Near Halifax in
Yorkshire is an immense stone, supposed to be a druidical
monument, which is called Robin Hood's pennystone, and
which is said to be the stone with which he amused him-

KOBIN HOOD BALLADS. 211

self, by throwing it at a distant mark. Another stone in
the same parish, weighing several tons, is said by the pea-
santry to have been thrown by him from an adjoining hill
with his spade as he was digging; "everything of the
marvellous kind/' as saith Watson, the historian of Halifax,
" being here attributed to Robin Hood, as it is in Cornwall
to king Arthur." Gunton, in his history of Peterborough,
mentions two long stones in a field in Suffolk, which were
said by tradition to be the draught of arrows from Alwalton
churchyard, shot thither by Robin Hood and Little John.

The legends of the peasantry are the shadows of a very
remote antiquity, and in them we may place our trust with
much confidence on a subject like the present. They en-
able us to place our Robin Hood with tolerable certainty
among the personages of the early mythology of the
Teutonic peoples.

ESSAY XVIII.

THE CONQUEST OF IRELANd'bY THE ANGLO-NORMANS.

T has long been known that there existed,
among the manuscripts of the archiepis-
copal palace at Lambeth, a most valuable
document, though unfortunately imperfect,
on the English conquest of Ireland,
written apparently at the end of the twelfth or beginning
of the thirteenth century, and therefore not long after the
important event which it commemorates, in Norman-French
verse, by a poet or historian — we may call him which we
will — who had received the history from the mouth of one
who had himself been intimately engaged in the expedition ;
and who was no less a person than Maurice Regan, inter-
preter to Dermod mac Murrough, the king of Leinster.

Bound up in the same volume with the manuscript of
which we speak, is a prose abstract of this poem by Sir
George Carew, who was lord president of Munster in the
reign of Elizabeth, and who was himself a descendant of
the Robert fitz Stephen who acts so prominent a part in
the history. Of the original manuscript, which is appa-
rently a somewhat later transcript of the poem, no use has
hitherto been made by our historians ; probably, because

CONQUEST OF IRELAND BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 213

it was difficult of access and of translation. But Walter
Harris, in 1747, published in his Hibernica the abstract
which had been made by Carew ; and this has been ever
since quoted in place of the original, and all its errors and
misrepresentations repeated : and no wonder if it be full
of them, for we are sure that its author could seldom trans-
late the words of the poem.

The story which our poet gives us confirms, most re-
markably, the relation of Giraldus, which had been written
previously; although, as independent histories, each con-
tains many circumstances not mentioned by the other.
We are inclined to suppose that Maurice Regan was not
the bard's sole authority, and it is probable that from him
the recital was obtained in his old age ; for, in confirma-
tion of what he says, he commonly appeals to the authority
of the old people who witnessed it. Thus, after speaking
of the death of Robert de Quency, he says :

" Une fille pur vers aveit
Robert, qui tant gentils esteit,
De sa espuse verairnent,
Solum le anciene gent."

And again, speaking of the Irish barons who, in their
way through England to Normandy, had joined in putting
down the rebellion of the earl of Leicester with the Scots :

" Et de Leycestre lors li quens,
Solum li dist des anciens,
Sur sun seignur esteit turne
Et Flemenges aveit mene."

We should, probably, have known more of the poet and
of his authorities, had we the whole of his proeme, the

214 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

earlier part of which is, unfortunately, lost, with a leaf of
the manuscript ; yet what remains is far from authorising
the assertion of all those who have quoted it through Sir
George Carew's abstract, that the history was originally
written by Maurice Regan himself. For the sake of showing
how ill Sir George read and interpreted his text, we will
give the first eleven lines as he has quoted and translated
them from the manuscript, and again as they actually
stand in the manuscript itself, and as they ought to be
translated. We quote from the octavo edition of Harris's
Hibernica, published in 1770. Perhaps some of the errors
in this instance must be laid to the charge of the editor.*

Sir George Careu-'s text and The text from the MS., with

version. our version.

* * *

" Parsoen demande Latinner " Parsoen deraeine latinier,

L'moi conta de sira historie Que raoi conta de lui l'estorie,

* We will add one instance of the utter incompetency of Sir George
Carew to give the sense even of his original. We are told hy the
former that "The expedition of Ossery heing determined, O'Brien re-
turned to Limerick, and the erle to Femes, where he remained eight
days ; in which time Murrough O'Byrne (who evermore had been a
traitor unto king Dermod) was brought prisoner unto hym, immediately
beheaded, and his body cast to the dogs ; and with him a son of Daniel
Kevanagh teas executed ; " on which Harris naturally enough observes
in a note, " It does not appear anywhere what the offence of Daniel
Kavenagh's son was, that the loyalty and good services of the father
could not atone for him." In fact the poem says as distinctly as pos-
sible that it was a son of Morrough who was taken by Donald Kevanagh
and executed with his father :

" E Dovenald Kevenath un sun fiz
Aveit al cunte mene e pris."

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS.

215

Dunt far ici Ja memorie.

Morice Regan iret celui,

Buche a buche par la alui

Ri cest gest endita

Lestorie de lui me mostra.

Jeil Morice iret Latinner

Al rei re Murcher.

Ici lirrai del bacheller

Del rei Dermod, vous voil conter.''

At his own desire, the Interpreter
To me related his history,

Which I here commit to memory.
Maurice Regan was the man,
Who face to face indited to me
These actions of the king,
And of himself showed me this

history.
This Maurice was interpreter
To the king, king Murcher.

These things this hatchellor

Of king Dermod read to me :
This is his story."

Dunt faz ici la memorie.
Morice Regan iert celui,
Buche a buche parla a lui
Ki cest jest endita,
L'estorie de lui me mostra.
Icil Morice iert latinier
Al rei Dermot, ke mult Tout cher.
Ifi lirrai del bacheler,
Del rei Dermod vus voil conter."
* * *

— By his own interpreter,

Who related to me the history of

him,
Of which I here make memorial.
Maurice Regan was he,
Mouth to mouth he spoke to him
Who endited this history,
He showed me the history of

him.

This Maurice was interpreter

To king Dermod,. who loved him
much.

Here I will read of the bachelor

[i. e. the king'] ;

Of king Dermod I will tell you."

We see at once in this translation how arose the error
that Regan had written the history. An edition of the text
of this poem, so valuable for the light it throws on an
interesting period of history, has since been given to the
public* Few events have had the good fortune to be re-

* Norman-French Metrical History of the Conquest of Ireland in
the Twelfth Century, edited from a manuscript in the Archiepiscopal
Library at Lambeth. By Francisque Michel. London, Pickering.

216 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

corded by two contemporaries so well fitted for the task as
Giraldus and Maurice Regan — one closely related to the
heroes (for heroes we may truly call them) who performed
the enterprise ; the other, an immediate agent of the native
chieftain in whose aid it was performed. For our own part,
we feel an entire conviction of the candour of the Welshman,
in the use of the materials he had collected for his history.
The testimony of the Irishman is delivered with too much
simplicity to allow us to suspect him of intentional misre-
presentations.

It happens, unfortunately, that the rolls of the reign
of the second Henry are nearly all lost. In the reign of
John they first begin to be numerous, and they then throw
great light upon Irish history. The charter-rolls of this
reign contain the confirmations of most of the grants of
land made to the first conquerors.

In spite of all that has been advanced to the contrary,
we still continue to look upon the ancient Irish as a
wild and barbarous people. Such were they found when
the Romans entered Britain ; such were they in the time
of the Saxons ; and their character was not changed for
the better when the Anglo-Normans succeeded in establish-
ing themselves in the isle. For ages they had infested, by
their piratical depredations, the coasts of England and
Wales. When, during the days of Saxon rule, a rebellious
noble had been defeated in his projects, he fled immedi-
ately to Ireland to recruit his strength; and at its conquest
at the end of the twelfth century, the country was full of
English slaves, who had been purloined from their homes.
Such being the case, we need not wonder if our kings
sometimes contemplated the conquest of Ireland as a
matter of policy ; and it appears from the Saxon Chronicle,

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 217

that William the Conqueror had himself formed the design
of reducing it to a dependence upon the English crown.
The passage, from its brevity, and from the late and
bad Saxon in which it is written, is rather obscure ; the
sense seems to be, that if the king had lived two years
longer he would have subdued Ireland, and that, by the
renown of his valour, without even striking a blow (and
gif he moste >a gyt twa gear libban, he hsefde Yrlande mid
his werscipe ge-wunnon, and wi$-utan eelcon wsepnon.)

A historian of the twelfth century characterizes the Irish
of his time as a people so little accustomed to peace and
quiet, that they only slackened in their depredations upon
others to pursue more inveterately their internal dissen-
sions. In the latter half of this century, the petty king of
Leinster was Dermod mac Murrough, who is described by
historians as a bold and valiant prince, but proud and
restless ; as little liked by his neighbours for his encroach-
ments upon their rights, as he was agreeable to his own
subjects by his overbearing tyranny. He had reduced to
the condition of tributaries several of the petty kingdoms
which bordered on his own, among which was that of
Meath ; and in one of his wars he had carried with him to
Leinster, O'Karrel, the son of the king of " Yriel." A district
nearly adjoining to the kingdom of Dermod, which our
Anglo-Norman poem calls Leschoin, and which Harris, in
his Hibernica, explains by Leitrim, and Giraldus by Meath,
was governed during this same period by king O'Rourk,
whose residence appears to have been at " Tirbrun," in a
wild and woody district. The wife of O'Rourk was the
daughter of Melaghlin mac Coleman, king of Meath,
who was herself amorous of the king of Leinster. The
love between the lady and Dermod seems to have been

VOL. II. 10

218 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

mutual, though our poem insinuates that the object of the
latter in seducing O'Rourk's wife was to revenge the dis-
grace which his people had suffered at " Lechunthe ;"
where it would appear that the people of O'Rourk had
made a hostile incursion into Leinster. In this uncivilised
age, when an Irishman left his home for a short period,
it seems to have been a common and necessary precaution
to hide his wife in some corner during his absence. King
O'Rourk selected for this purpose a secret place, appa-
rently not far from Tirbrun, which Giraldus calls " insula
quaedam Medise" — a certain island in Meath ; but his
queen had already yielded to the importunities of Dermod.
She invited him to enter "Lethcoin," with a sufficient
force, during the absence of her husband, and at Tirbrun
he was encountered by her messenger, with information of
the place of her concealment; whence — " rapta," as
Giraldus has it, "quia et rapi voluit" — she was carried
away by Dermod to Ferns.

The first thought of O'Rourk, when he received intelli-
gence of the violence which had been done to him by
Dermod, was of revenge. He carried his complaint to the
king of Connaught, who was then looked upon as the
superior monarch over all Ireland, and who immediately
espoused his cause ; and, at his instigation, all the chiefs
who were tributary to Dermod deserted their superior lord.
Among these were the king of Ossory, to whom was pro-
mised Dermod's kingdom of Leinster, after the expulsion
of its present sovereign ; Melaghlin (Malathlin,) the king
of Meath ; Hasculf mac Turkil, the Danish king of Dublin ;
and Murrough O'Brien (by Carew translated O'Byrne,)
whom the author of our poem stigmatises as "un mal
felun," or, as we might say in simple English, a singu-

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 219

larly great scoundrel. It would appear, indeed, that the
king of Leinster had put more than ordinary confidence in
O'Brien. Wlien all his other friends had deserted him, he
seems still to have clung to the hope that he would return
to his allegiance, and therefore he felt the more sensibly
his ingratitude and perfidy. Dermod had taken refuge in
the city of Ferns, where was his paramour, and where he
was harboured, we are told, in an abbey of St. Mary's.
Here he resolved to make a last attempt to obtain an
interview with O'Brien, and for that purpose had recourse
to a stratagem. Disguised in the long robe of a monk,
which he had borrowed of the abbot of St. Mary's, and
which concealed his head and body, and even his feet, he
made his way in safety to O'Brien's residence; but here
again the king was unsuccessful. O'Brien refused to hold
any parley with him, loaded him with reproaches and
tin-eats, and retreated into the woods.

Deserted by those in whom he put his trust, his party
at home too weak to make head against his enemies, the
king of Leinster was driven to seek aid amongst strangers.
He left the harbour of " Corkeran," attended by Awelif
O'Kinad, and, according to the recital of Maurice Regan
(who, we suspect, must have been guilty of exaggeration,
or the writer of the manuscript of error,) with more than
sixty ships. With a favorable wind he soon reached
Bristol, where, with his followers, and, according to the
common report, with the wife of king O'Rourk, he was
lodged in the house of Robert Harding, at St. Austin's.
Thence, after a short stay, he passed through Normandy,
into Aquitaine, where he found the king of England,
Henry II, who listened with attention to his complaint,
and promised him assistance as soon as possible. Dermod

220 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

returned to Bristol with the royal letters to Robert
Harding, his former host, ordering him to furnish the
refugees with every necessary during their residence there ;
and, according to Giraldus, with the king's letters patent,
authorising his subjects to assist him in recovering his
kingdom. At Bristol he made a stay of nearly a month;
but at length, despairing of any immediate aid from the
king, and with the hope of alluring private adventurers to
join his standard, he proclaimed rewards of extensive
possessions in Ireland to all those who would be instru-
mental in the recovery of his lost territory. The liberality
of his promises quickly attracted the attention of Richard
fitz Gilbert, surnamed Strongbow, earl of Strigul.

Earl Richard was descended from a great and noble
family, being the son and heir of Gilbert earl of Pem-
broke, the grandson of that Richard de Clare who had
distinguished himself so highly in the memorable battle
of Hastings. He is described as a man liberal and
courteous, ever ready to listen to the counsel of his
friends, cautious in the cabinet, yet bold and resolute in
the field. In time of peace he was distinguished by his
gentle bearing, having more of the freedom of the soldier
than the haughtiness of a chieftain ; but in war he showed
more of the commander than the soldier, less of the indis-
criminate daring of the latter than of the firm and cool
valour of the former. Such was Strongbow, if we believe
his contemporaries. By some means or other he had lost,
we are told, most of his paternal possessions. To support
his character and rank, it appears that he had been
obliged to borrow, probably of the Jews, who in those
days were the grand usurers ; and at the time when Dermod
was seeking private adventurers for the invasion of Leinster,

BY THE ANGLO-NOKMANS. 221

Strongbow was driven, as much by bis own limited for-
tune as by the clamorous importunities of his creditors, to
listen to his proposals. The Irish king offered him his
daughter in marriage, and, with her, the kingdom after
his death ; and the earl promised to come to his assistance
at the first approach of spring.

From Bristol, Dermod passed over into Wales, and was
honorably received by the Welsh king, Rhys ap Gruffydh,
and by the bishop of the see, at St. David's, where he
remained two or three days, until ships were procured to
carry him over to Ireland. At St. David's he became
accidentally acquainted with one who was to play an
active and prominent part in the events which followed.
This was Robert fitz Stephen, who had been treacherously
arrested and imprisoned by his kinsman, the Welsh king,
because he would not join the latter in rebellion against
his sovereign, the king of England. At the intercession of
Dermod and his half-brothers, the bishop of St. David's
and Maurice fitz Gerald, it was agreed that he should be
liberated, on condition of joining in the Irish expedition
in company with Maurice ; and it was stipulated that, in
return for their services, Dermod should give in fee to the
two brothers the city of Wexford, with the two adjacent
cantreds, or hundreds. They also promised to sail for Ire-
land at the opening of spring. The Irish king seems to
have had still a few faithful adherents in his own country,
and he was naturally anxious to return thither as soon as
he had secured assistance from England. He accordingly
left St. David's in August 1168, with a small number of
attendants, and arrived safely at Ferns ; where he was
privately, but honorably, received by the clergy of the
place, and where he remained during the winter.

222 conquest or Ireland

According to the Norman rhymer, Dermod was attended
in his voyage by a small party of English, led by a
Pembrokeshire knight, Richard fitz Godobert ; but finding,
perhaps, on his arrival, his own party in Ireland much
weaker than he had expected, and thinking that so small
a body of foreigners would be rather an impediment than
an aid, he seems to have dismissed them ; and he sent to
Wales his secretary, Maurice Regan, to hasten the prepa-
rations of Fitz Stephen, and to allure others to his standard
by offers of land and money.

We may well admire the circumstance of one family, by
the mother's side, having produced so many great and
brave men as were associated together in the first invasion
of Ireland. Nesta, or Nest, the daughter of Gruffydh ap
Rhys, king of South Wales (the father of the Rhys who
was king when Dermod visited St. David's,) became the
concubine of Henry I of England, and by him bore a son
named Henry, whose sons were Meiler fitz Henry and
Robert fitz Henry. She afterwards married Gerald of
Windsor, who was constable of Pembroke, and by him she
had three sons : William, who was the father of Raymund
le Gros ; Maurice fitz Gerald ; and David, who was bishop
of St. David's. Her second husband was Stephen, the
constable of Aberteivi, or Cardigan, by whom she had
Robert fitz Stephen. A daughter of this same Nesta
married William de Barri of Pembrokeshire, by whom she
had four sons, Robert, Philip, Walter, and Giraldus the
historian of the enterprise.

As the spring approached, Robert fitz Stephen made
himself ready for the voyage. In the month of May,
1169, his little armament of three ships arrived at the
Banne ; his army consisting of a hundred and thirty

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 223

knights, his own kinsmen and retainers, with sixty other
men of arms, and about three hundred chosen Welsh
archers on foot. Among the more eminent of his com-
panions in arms — the "chevalers de grant pris" of the
poem — were Meiler fitz Henry, Miles fitz David, who was
the son of the bishop of St. David's, and Hervy de Mont-
maurice, a soldier of fortune, who had come on the part of
earl Strongbow. The day following, at the same place,
arrived Maurice de Prendergast, who had set sail from
Milford Haven with two ships, attended by ten knights
and a considerable number of archers.

In that part of Ireland which was first occupied by
the English, the older Irish names seem in many in-
stances to have been changed and forgotten; and we
have now a difficulty in identifying the places which are
mentioned in the recitals of Giraldus and of Maurice
Regan. The place where Fitz Stephen's armament landed,
then called simply the Banne, is by tradition identified
with the small peninsula on the coast of Wexford, forming
the promontory now called Baganbun. The headland
called Baganbun, consisting altogether of about thirty
acres, forms a bold projection towards the Welsh coast.
On one side of the greater promontory is a lesser one,
stretching out to the east, about two hundred yards long
and seventy broad, accessible only at its extreme point ;
beyond which rises a large, high, insulated rock, which
forms a breakwater to the surf on the point, and which is
imperfectly joined to the main-land by several smaller
rocks that just appear above water, and are described as
forming a kind of causeway to the point of the pro-
montory itself. Here tradition says that Fitz Stephen
ran in his ships, mooring them under protection of

224 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

the larger rock, and landing his men by means of the
low ridge. The cut between the last of these rocks, across
which he is said to have sprung, is now popularly called
Fitz Stephen's Stride. The adventurers are supposed to
have first occupied the esplanade of the smaller peninsula,
and there still remain distinct traces of the hasty fortifica-
tions which are said to have been thrown up. On the
isthmus which connects the lesser peninsula with the
greater, a deep fosse, about seventy yards long, extends
from side to side ; which was bounded on each edge by
high mounds of earth, and in the centre covered by a half-
moon bastion, twenty yards in circumference. On each
side of this bastion may be traced passages through the
fosse, and the bastion itself is connected with the espla-
nade by a mound of earth. This bastion commanded the
approaches, and overlooked " all the ground in the vici-
nity." Some few years ago, on turning up the soil
around the edge of the esplanade, were discovered the
remains of fires, at regular intervals, on the edge of the
precipices ; which are supposed to have been the watch-
fires of the videttes who were stationed around the en-
campment. In the middle is an oblong hollow space, like
the foundations of a house, which is popularly called Fitz
Stephen's Tent. The neck, which joins the greater pro-
montory with the main-land, is also defended by a double
fosse, deep and broad, stretching across the whole breadth,
a space of two hundred and fifty yards.

Such is the place pointed out by tradition as the first
Irish ground occupied by Fitz Stephen. Tradition, how-
ever, as we have ourselves had too many reasons for
knowing, is but an erring monitor; and in the present
instance we are not inclined to put much faith in it. The

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 225

position and form of the promontory of Baganbun seems
to answer better to the description of the place of landing
of the gallant Raymund, and to the fortifications which he
raised there ; and we think it more probable that Fitz
Stephen landed at Bannow, a point, certainly, more con-
venient for the intended expedition against Wexford.
Giraldus calls the place Insula Bannensis (or, as the
printed text has it, Banuensis,) and, as the sea has made
such changes on this spot as to have buried a whole town,
it may in his time have been a peninsular promontory.

There is, indeed, no reason for supposing that Fitz
Stephen took much trouble to fortify the place of his
landing ; the Norman poem tells us that he encamped on
the sea-shore, and Giraldus gives us clearly to understand
that his position was by no means strong, though the
insular form of the place gave it a certain degree of secu-
rity. Dermod was at Ferns, in expectation of their arrival,
the first intelligence of which raised the hopes of his
friends, and caused them openly to join his standard;
and, having previously despatched his natural son, Donald
Kavenagh, to announce his approach, he hastened to join
and welcome the English adventurers, bringing with him
about five hundred men. The king rested that night with
Fitz Stephen, in his encampment on the beach, and the
next morning they marched with their little army towards
Wexford.

The people of Wexford, who prided themselves much
upon their valour and former exploits, boldly salhed forth
to meet the enemy. Their number was about two thou-
sand ; but they were unaccustomed to the sight of knights
mounted and clad in armour, such as were the men who
now presented themselves to their view ; and, having first

10§

226 conquest or Ireland

burnt the suburbs, they hastily retreated within their walls.
The English advanced directly to attack the town, which
was obstinately defended. Among the first who mounted
the wall was Robert de Barri, the elder brother of the his-
torian Giraldus ; a large stone from the besieged struck
him on the helmet ; he fell headlong into the fosse, and
was with difficulty dragged out by his companions : many
others of the assailants were severely hurt, and Fitz Stephen
was compelled to withdraw his men with the loss of eighteen,
whilst of the besieged only three were killed. The English
hastened from the town to the harbour, where they burnt
the shipping ; and they then prepared for a renewal of the
attack the next morning. But the people of Wexford,
although they had repelled the first assault with little loss
to themselves, were fearful of the final result ; they antici-
pated a second by offers of capitulation ; and the morning
when this assault should have been made, they gave their
hostages, and renewed their allegiance to Dermod. The
English immediately entered the town, which, according
to previous agreement, was delivered, with its territory, to
Fitz Stephen ; and the Irish king granted, at the same
time, to Hervy de Montmaurice the two cantreds bordering
on the sea between Wexford and Waterford.

After a stay of three weeks at Ferns, Dermod, with his
new allies, set out for the invasion of Ossory ; whose king,
Donald, or, as he is called by the rimer, Mac Donthid
(perhaps, Mac Donald) was obnoxious to him, no less for
former injuries than for his late pretensions to the kingdom
of Leinster. The invasion of a district defended, like
Ossory, by its bogs, woods, and hills, was a bold un-
dertaking; but the fall of Wexford had strengthened
the party of Dermod ; some turned to what appeared sud-

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 227

denly to be a thriving cause ; the hope of plunder attracted
many ; and, in addition to his English associates, he was
now at the head of an army of three thousand Irish.
The king of Ossory, with five thousand Irish, had occupied
a difficult pass, by which it was necessary that Dermod
should enter his territory ; there he had stationed his men
behind strong entrenchments, consisting of three large
and deep fosses, with a hedge behind them. When the
army of Dermod approached the defile, the English rushed
forwards to attack the entrenchments of the Ossorians ;
the struggle was prolonged from morning till evening,
when, after much loss on both sides, the English knights
burst through the hedge and put their opponents to flight,
and Dermod' s Irish spread themselves over the country to
rob and destroy.

The king of Ossory and his army, after their defeat, had
taken shelter in the woods, whence, on the return of the
invaders, they again assembled, to harass them in their
retreat. The Irish who were with Dermod, and who ap-
pear to have been chiefly the men of Hy-Kinsellagh, were
placed under the command of his natural son, Donald
Kavenagh ; and the king himself marched with the Eng-
lish, who, as in entering the hostile country they were
in the advance, now in leaving it held the rear. Donald
Kavenagh soon approached a dangerous defile — it was a
place where, in his wars with the people of Ossory, Dermod
had been three times defeated; and his Irish, expecting
now a similar disaster, fled precipitately to the woods leav-
xng their leader with only forty-three men to await the
enemy. The king of Ossory, taking advantage of this
sudden flight, hastened with seventeen hundred Irish to
attack the English, who were not much more than three

228 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

hundred men. The latter were just passing the bottom of
a little vale, and they feared an attack from the Irish in so
critical a position ; the more so, as they knew them to be
"a people as swift as the wind." Maurice de Prendergast
urged his companions to keep close together, and pass
firmly and deliberately the vale, until, having reached better
ground, they might turn upon their pursuers ; and, at his
suggestion, a party of archers were placed in ambush
among the brushwood. The Irish passed the ambush, but
the archers, terrified by their numbers, dared not show
themselves. Soon, however, the English reached better
ground; they shouted their cry of " St. David!" and
turned round upon the Ossoiians, who, not defended by
armour like their opponents, were quickly cut down or
put to flight, The prowess of Meiler fitz Henry was every-
where conspicuous : Giraldus joins with his name that of
Robert de Barri. The historian often dwells upon the
ambitious valour of his cousin Meiler, and the modest
bravery of his brother Robert.

When the Irish of Dermod's party, who had sought
shelter in the woods on the first approach of the enemy,
saw the result of the battle, they rushed from their places
of concealment, and fell upon the rear of the fugitives.
With their axes, the peculiar weapon of these wild war-
riors, they cut off the heads of those who had been slain
by the English or by themselves ; and more than two hun-
dred heads were thus laid at the feet of Dermod. Giraldus
has preserved an anecdote, strikingly characteristic of the
savage manners of the Irish of this period. Among the
heads which were thrown on the ground before him,
Dermod recognized one as that of a person who had
been peculiarly obnoxious to him : as he danced exult-

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 229

ingly among the heads of his foes, he suddenly seized upon
this one, raised it by the ears to his mouth, and with a
barbarous joy, bit off the nose and part of the lips.

The Tictors proceeded the same night to the town of
Fethelin, to which there was a good and direct road, car-
rying with them their wounded; and the day following
they returned to Ferns, where the Irish from most of the
districts which had been subject to the king of Leinster,
terrified by the reports which were already spread abroad
of the valour of the English, came in and gave hostages
for their allegiance. The king of Ossory, however, as well
as Mac Kelan, the king of Offelan, or the district about
Nass, and Hasculf mac Turkil, the king of Dublin, were
not among the number. The next expedition of Dermod
and his English was against Mac Kelan. Offelan was soon
plundered and laid waste, and the booty carried to Ferns :
and a similar enterprise carried them through Hy-Kin-
sellagh to Glendalough and the territory of O'Tool. After
again resting some eight days at Ferns, Dermod, resolving
if possible to reduce king Donald to subjection, prepared
for a second invasion of Ossory. Donald Kavenagh marched
first, at the head of five thousand Irish ; he was followed
by the men of "Wexford, who were objects of suspicion to
the king and the English, and who were therefore placed
in a separate division and closely watched ; and in another
division came Dermod himself, with the English.

Thus Dermod and his army wandered across the country,
making, as it would appear, a somewhat circuitous route
into Ossory ; till one night they came to Fothard or Fethard,
where the king encamped with the English on the "water
of Mac Burtin," according to Giraldus, in and about an
old ruined fort. Here it was that, during the night, they

230 CONQUEST OF IKELAND

were visited by that singular " phantasm" which is related
by both historians ; and which, Giraldus informs us,
was of no uncommon occurrence during the Irish wars.
Suddenly, in the middle of the night, they saw rushing
upon them, from every side, a vast army. The greater
part of the Irish who were encamped in the immediate
neighbourhood, struck with terror at this sudden attack,
fled precipitately to the woods and bogs, leaving Meiler
fitz Henry and Robert de Barri, who, it seems, were with
them, and who immediately hastened to the encampment
of Fitz Stephen. They found the English in great alarm ;
for they, led by their suspicions, supposed it to be the
Wexford men who had betrayed them, and who had come
upon them unawares. Randolf fitz Ralf was on the watch,
and first saw the imaginary assailants. In an instant he
shouted the war-cry, " St. David!" drew his sword, and
rushed towards the enemy. A soldier in armour advanced
towards him, but a blow of Randolf s sword brought him
on his knees : it was one of his fellow-watchmen. The
English had now time to discover their mistake ; the phan-
tasm by degrees disappeared, and passed by the camp of
the Wexford men, who, equally suspicious of the others,
thought they saw in it a treacherous attack by the English.
The following morning the army was again put in order,
and marched forwards in search of the king of Ossory.
The latter had seized upon the pass of Athethur, or Hathe-
dur, which he had defended by a broad and deep fosse,
and a hedge of hurdles. At length king Dermod approached
the pass ; it was near nightfall ; and between his army and
Athethur flowed a large river, on whose banks he encamped.
The next morning, his whole army passed the river without
opposition, and the Wexford men were appointed to attack

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS . 231

the entrenchments, Three successive days they advanced
valiantly to the assault, and were as often driven back by
the Ossorians ; till, on the third day, the English, marching
up as the Irish retreated, soon burst through the hedge
sword in hand, and as quickly drove the men of king
Donald from their position, and again laid open the king-
dom of Ossory to the ravages of Derniod and his Irish,
who returned to Ferns laden with the spoils. The king of
Ossory fled into Tipperary, through the district of Wene-
nath (Hy-Nenath?), and thence to "Bertun."

The successes of Dermod and the foreigners whom he
had brought into the island became now a subject of serious
apprehension to the other chieftains throughout Ireland;
and Rory O'Connor, the king of Connaught, and "mon-
arch" of the whole isle, summoned together the inferior
kings, who entered Leinster with a numerous army, re-
solved to expel the intruders at once from the land.
Dermod had received early intelligence of the storm which
threatened him. Many of his Irish followers deserted him
in his time of need, and not feeling himself strong enough
to face such an enemy in the field, he retreated with the
English to a strong position near Ferns, surrounded by
bogs and water, thick woods, and precipitous mountains.
This place, almost inaccessible by its natural character,
Fitz Stephen rendered impregnable, by digging deep pits
and ditches over the ground by which the entrance must
be approached, and by narrowing the entrance and plash-
ing the wood with trees that his men had cut down.
O'Connor first sent a messenger to Dermod, offering to
confirm to him the peaceful possession of all his ancient
kingdom of Leinster, on condition of the immediate dis-
mission of the English allies. On Dermod's refusal to

232 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

accede to these terms, the king of Connaught made some
slight demonstrations of hostility ; but negotiations were
soon again renewed. O'Connor was well aware of the
strength of Dermod's position, and the latter was willing,
on any reasonable terms, to avert for the present the
wrath of the king of Connaught. A treaty was therefore
made, by which the possession of Leinster was secured to
Derniod, on condition of his doing homage to O'Connor as
his superior lord ; and he delivered, as an hostage for his
performance of the terms of the treaty, one of his younger
sons, named "Cnuth." Giraldus assures us, that there
was also a secret treaty between the two kings, whereby
Dermod bound himself to receive no more English into his
service, and to dismiss those who were with him as soon
as he had entirely reduced his rebellious dependents.

Be this as it may, king Dermod became so proud and
overbearing by his successes, that he appears to have given
umbrage even to his English allies, to whose exertions he
owed them. Maurice de Prendergast, with his followers,
to the number of two hundred, resolved to return home,
and, taking their leave of the king, they marched towards
Wexford ; where, however, Dermod had already dispatched
orders to hinder their departure. Enraged at Dermod's
ingratitude, and unable to leave the country, Maurice prof-
fered his services to the king of Ossory, who joyfully
accepted them, and agreed to meet him at Tech-Moylin.
Maurice made his way in safety to this place, in spite of
the opposition of Donald Kavenagh, who had thrown him-
self in the way with five hundred men : on the third day
after his arrival the king came to him, according to agree-
ment; each took oath of fidelity to the other, and they
entered Ossory in company. With the aid of his new

BY THE ANGLO-NORM AX S. 233

ally, the king of Ossory was soon enabled to make reprisals
upon Dermod, and he suddenly invaded the territory of
O'More, king of Leis (Queen's County), where his ravages
were only arrested by the submission of O'More, who pro-
mised faithfully to deliver his hostages on an appointed
day. But the wily king of Leis, while Donald and Maurice
were quietly enjoying themselves, and waiting the day fixed
for the delivery of the hostages, sent a messenger to king
Dermod in Leinster, begging his aid against their common
enemy.

During this time, the loss which Dermod had sustained
by the defection of Maurice de Prendergast was repaired
by a new arrival of English. Maurice fitz Gerald had
landed at Wexford, attended by ten knights, with thirty
horse and a hundred archers on foot, who were joyfully
received by the king of Leinster. Immediately after their
arrival came the messager of O'More ; and, after a short
consultation with the English barons, Dermod assembled
his army, and made a hasty march towards Leis. This
expedition had been concerted with such speed and secrecy,
that it was only when Dermod was far advanced on the
way that a spy brought to the king of Ossory the first
intelligence of his approach. The latter felt himself un-
able to cope with Dermod' s army, and, by the advice of
Maurice de Prendergast, he hastened back into Ossory.
The king of Leinster, after himself taking hostages of
O'More, also returned to Ferns.

Maurice soon found, that the service of the king of
Ossory was no less ungrateful than that of the king of
Leinster. The presence of the foreigners was naturally
enough a subject of jealousy to the natives, particularly in
time of truce, when the latter were not gaining by their

234 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

exertions. As the English had, perhaps, been more provi-
dent than their Irish allies, the riches they had collected
provoked their cupidity ; and a plot was formed to surprise
and murder Maurice and his men in their sleep, and to rob
them of their share of the spoils. The conspirators even
ventured to broach their project to the king, who, how-
ever, was honest enough to refuse all concurrence in it.
In the meanwhile Maurice demanded and obtained leave
of the latter to depart for Wales ; and while the king
moved on with his court (if the attendants of an Irish king
at this time may be called a court) to Fertnegeragh, the
former passed the night at Kilkenny, ready for departure
the next morning on his march towards Waterford. He
here learnt that the Ossorians, who had conspired against
him, resolving to interrupt him in his march, had assembled
to the number of two thousand men, and had seized upon
a defile through which he would be obliged to pass, which
they had fortified against him. In this unforeseen diffi-
culty, a stratagem afforded the only hope of escape. The
king of Ossory desired much to retain the English in his
service, and Maurice now dispatched a message to his
seneschal, announcing his willingness to comply with the
king's desire. The king returned answer, that he would
immediately repair to him at Kilkenny; the news was
quickly spread over the country ; the Ossorians left their
position in the pass, and the English leaving Kilkenny
secretly and by night, made a hasty march to Waterford.
Thence, after a short stay and a squabble with the citi-
zens, arising from the death of an Irishman who had been
wounded by one of the English soldiers, and which was
adjusted by the prudence and moderation of Maurice, they
passed across the channel to Wales.

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 235

The hopes of Dermod were raised by the accession of
Maurice fitz Gerald and his followers, who built themselves
a stronghold upon a rock at Carrig, near Wexford : he had
already conceived the idea of making himself master of
Dublin, and of revenging severely upon its inhabitants the
death of his father, whom they had murdered and buried
along with a dog. The arrival of Fitz Gerald was itself
a breach of the treaty which he is said to have made with
the king of Connaught ; and the latter, incensed at some
petty depredations of Donald Kavenagh, invaded Leinster
with a small army ; but was defeated by the English, and
returned to his own kingdom with disgrace.

Events were all this time ripening, which were destined
to change entirely the face of aifairs in Ireland. Earl
Strongbow had not, as was expected, joined Dermod in
the spring of 1169, but he had watched anxiously the pro-
ceedings of the first invaders, and was making large prepa-
rations for his Irish expedition. Dermod, eager for the
attack upon Dublin, and in his insolence laying claim even
to the kingdom of Connaught and the sovereignty of
Ireland, dispatched messengers to England to hasten his
departure. It was necessary, however, for Strongbow' s
purposes, to gain a distinct permission of the undertaking
from the king of England. Historians are not agreed how
far this permission was granted. Giraldus says, that the
answer of the king was such that it might be interpreted
in favour of Strongbow' s projects ; William of Newbury
asserts, that Henry forbade the earl to meddle in the Irish
affairs ; but on this point, William's assertion ought pro-
bably to bear with it less authority than that of Giraldus.
Be this as it may, in the summer of 1170 Strongbow was
coasting the Welsh side of the Bristol channel on his way
towards Ireland.

236 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

The precursor of Strongbow was Raymund, so celebrated
in the after history by the surname, which his corpulency
had procured him, of Raymund le Gros. With ten knights,
and about seventy archers, he landed under shelter of a
rock, which is called by Giraldus Dundunolf, and in the
Norman poem, Domdonuil, situated on the southern coast
of the county of Wexford, but nearer to Waterford than
to that city, and answering exactly in its description and
position to the little promontory of Baganbun. Here,
among the rocks, he fortified his camp with earth and
turfs, and was joined at his first arrival by Hervy de
Montmaurice, whose lands must have been at no great
distance from this place, and who brought with him three
knights. With these Raymund' s company amounted,
perhaps, to nearly a hundred men. When the intelligence
of their arrival reached Waterford, which was then governed
by two Danish chieftains, Reginald and Smorch,* the
citizens assembled in haste to drive away these new
intruders. They were joined by the people of Ossory, and
by Donald (or, as Giraldus calls him, Melaghlin) O'Felan,
king of the Decies, and O'Rian, king of Hy-Drone ; and a
formidable army of about three thousand men, in three
divisions, crossed the Suire, and hastened towards the
camp at Dundunolf. Raymund and his English boldly
sallied forth to meet their assailants, but, too few to hold
the field against so numerous an army, they were quickly
compelled to retire to their entrenchments, so closely pur-

* " Regenald e Smorch erent clame

Les plus poanz de la cite." {Norman Poem, v. 1506.)
The latter of these names is not mentioned by Giraldus. But who
were the two Sytaracs mentioned by him a little further on in the
history ? — " Captis igitur in turri Reginaldi duobus Sytaracis, et gladio
sublatis."

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 237

sued by the Irish, that both parties were on the point of
entering the camp together; when Rayniund, turning
round at the entrance, struck down with his sword several
of the foremost of his pursuers, and the English, rallying
at the nervous shout of their leader, rushed again upon
the Irish, who, already fallen into disorder in the pursuit,
and astonished by the suddenness of the attack, fled in
every direction. According to the story told by Maurice
Regan, Rayniund owed his victory partly to an accident.
The English, on their first arrival, had swept the cattle
from the surrounding country, and had placed them, pro-
bably, in the larger inclosure of the camp : confined within
a small circuit, and mad with terror at the terrible shouts
of the Irish, and at the clashing of the English armour,
eager to seek anywhere a place of safety, they rushed
furiously through the entrance of the camp to force their
way through the midst of the Irish. The latter hastily
made way for . them, and were thrown into confusion ;
and the English, seizing the moment, rushed upon their
enemies, and made a terrible slaughter. The Norman
bard tells us, that a thousand were left dead on the field ;
Giraldus estimates the slain at about five hundred. Ray-
niund lost one of his choicest men, Alice de Berveny.
Seventy citizens of Waterford were taken prisoners, who,
at the instigation of Hervy de Montmaurice, and con-
trary to the wish of Rayniund, were all thrown into
the sea. Maurice Regan told a different story : he said,
that the prisoners were beheaded by the order of Ray-
niund, who was enraged at the loss of his friend
Alice. But Giraldus was more likely to know, the coun-
sels and sentiments of the English barons, his own rela-
tions, than the interpreter of an Irish king, who was

238 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

not present at the action, and who, full of Irish feelings,
when he heard of the slaughter would naturally enough
attribute it to the spirit of revenge.

Giraldus must be in error when he fixes the arrival of
Raymund at Dundunolf to the calends of May (*. e. the
latter end of April,) for we are assured that it was quickly
followed by that of eaii Strongbow,* and yet Giraldus and
the Norman poem agree in placing the arrival of Strong-
bow at the latter end of August. In passing the "Welsh
coast, Strongbow had been joined by Maurice de Prender-
gast and his followers, who returned with him to Ireland ;
and he landed in the neighbourhood of Waterford with an
army of nearly fifteen hundred men. It was the eve of
St. Bartholomew when the earl arrived, and the next day
he laid siege to the city. Twice the assailants were
repulsed from the walls, when Strongbow, observing a
wooden house which was attached to the wall of the city,
ordered some of his men, under cover of their armour, to
cut down the post which supported it. The house fell,
and dragged with it a large portion of the wall ; and the
English rushed through the breach, put to death all who
opposed them, and made themselves masters of the city.

* So says the Norman bard, quoting, as usual, the authority of the
old people.

" Solum le dit as ansciens,

Bien tost ajwts, Richard ti quens

A Waterford ariva ;

Bien quinz cent od sei mena.

La vile seint Bartholomee

Esteit li quens arive." (v. 1501.)
It is hardly probable that Raymund would have remained three
months shut up in his little fort at Dundunolf.

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 239

In Reginald's Tower (so called from one of the Danish
governors) were slain the two " Sytaracs," and were taken
Reginald himself, and O'Felan, the king of the Decies,
who had joined in the disastrous expedition against Dun-
dunolf. At Waterford, immediately after its capture,
Strongbow was joined by king Dermod, with Fitz Stephen
and Maurice fitz Gerald, and by Raymund, who had
remained with Hervy de Montmaurice and Walter Bluet
at Dundunolf ; and at their intercession, we are told, he
spared the lives of his two prisoners, Reginald and O'Felan.
Immediately after the arrival of Dermod, were celebrated
the nuptials of Strongbow with his daughter Eva: the
kingdom of Leinster, after Dermod's death, was the
dower ; and the united army, after leaving a garrison at
"Waterford, marched to the conquest of Dublin.

Meanwhile the other Irish chiefs, alarmed at this new
arrival of foreigners, and informed of the intended attempt
upon Dublin, had assembled under the banner of O'Connor,
who fixed his head quarters at Clondalkin, and distributed
his army, which is said to have amounted to thirty thou-
sand men, in the woods and passes over the country
through which he supposed that Dermod and his allies
must have proceeded to Dublin, with orders to fortify all
the passes on the road, and to plash the woods. The
king of Leinster had, however, received timely intelligence
of the movements of his enemies ; he consulted the English
barons, and it was resolved to change their route, to avoid
the woods, and to march over the mountains by Glenda-
lough. The first division of the army, consisting of seven
hundred English, was led by Miles de Cogan, with whom
was Donald Kavenagh. Next came Raymund, with eight
hundred English, who was followed by Strongbow and

240 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

Dermod, with about three thousand English and a thou-
sand Irish ;* and lastly, came the main body of Dermod's
Irish auxiliaries. On St. Matthew's day they came in sight of
Dublin, which was defended by its Danish chieftain,
Hasculf mac Turkil. The main body of the army halted
at a short distance from the city, but Miles de Cogan
encamped just under the wall; as did also Raymund,
though at another point. Maurice Regan was immediately
sent to the governor of the city, to require its delivery to
Dermod, with thirty hostages. Laurence O'Toole, the
archbishop of Dublin, urged the citizens to accede to
Dermod's demand ; and we are told, that the only subject
of disagreement was the choice of the hostages, for the
arrangement of which Hasculf demanded a truce till the
following day. But in the midst of these negotiations,
Miles de Cogan, impatient of delay, ordered his men to
the walls, and forced his way into the city. Raymund,
who seems to have acted partly in concert with him, made
a simultaneous attack on the other side. Hasculf, with
the greater part of the citizens, hurried their more valuable
effects into their ships, and fled to the northern islands ;
and, after a short but furious struggle, and great slaughter,
Cogan was master of Dublin before Dermod or Strougbow
knew of the attack. Dublin yielded to its conquerors a
rich booty : it was given into the care of Miles de Cogan,
with a small garrison, and the earl returned with Dermod
to Ferns ; whence, from time to time, they made incur-
sions into the territories of their neighbours, particularly

* The Norman poem, which gives this arrangement of the army,
must he in error as to the numbers of the English. It should, per-
haps, be " one thousand English and three thousand Irish."

BY THE ANGLO-XOHMANS. 241

into the kingdom of Dermod's old enemy, O'Rourk.
O'Connor again expostulated with the king of Leinster,
and begged that, if he would not dismiss his foreign allies,
he would at least keep them within bounds. His expostu-
lations were treated with scorn, and in revenge he put to
death Dermod's son, who had been delivered to him as a
hostage. During the winter (Giraldus says, in the calends
of May) king Dermod, " full of years," died at Ferns, and
Strongbow became, in right of his wife, earl of Leinster.

On the death of Dermod, a new confederacy was formed
against the English ; the only native chiefs who remained
faithful to them being Donald Kavenagh, Mac Geley of
Tirbrun, and Awelif O'Carvy. 0' Conner again summoned
the Irish kings to his banner, and a host of wild warriors,
estimated by Maurice Regan at sixty thousand men, was
marched to wrest from the earl his late conquest of Dublin.*
O'Connor, with the half of his army, encamped at Castel
Knock ; Mac Dunleve of Ulster, fixed his banner at Clon-
tarf : O'Brien of Minister established himself at Kilmainan ;
while Moriertagh, the king of Hy-Kinsellagh, encamped
towards Dalkie ; and, according to Giraldus, the port was
besieged by a fleet of islanders, headed by Gottred king
of Man. Two months the English had been confined
within the walls of Dublin, when in a council, at which
were present with Strongbow, Robert de Quency, Walter de

* Giraldus erroneously reverses the order of the two events — the
sieges of Dublin by O'Connor, and by the Danes under Hasculf and
John the Furious. A comparison of the dates will at once shew the
error of the Welsh historian. It must not be forgotten, that while
Miles de Cogan was besieged by the Danes and Norwegians, Strong-
bow was in England, and that he only returned to Ireland in company
with king Henry.

VOL. II. 11

242 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

Riddlesford, Maurice de Prendergast, Miles de Cogan,
Meiler fitz Henry, Miles fitz David, Richard de Marreis,
Walter Blueit, and others, to the number of about twenty,
it was declared that the city did not contain provisions to
last with economy for a fortnight ; and it was proposed to
treat with the besiegers. Giraldus mentions a report, that
this confederacy of the Irish had been formed at the
instigation of the archbishop of Dublin : according to
Regan, it was the archbishop who was chosen in company
with Maurice of Prendergast, to carry to O'Connor the
propositions of the besieged ; which were, that Strongbow
should hold Leinster in fee of the king of Connaught.
The latter, confident in his own strength and in the weak-
ness of his opponents, and thinking to reduce them to the
same footing on which the Danes had previously stood in
those towns, declared peremptorily that he would allow the
English to hold nothing more than Dublin, Wexford, and
Waterford. To add to the embarrassments of the latter,
Donald Kavenagh arrived at Dublin, with some Irish
of Hy-Kinsellagh, accompanied by O'Ragely and Aweli
O'Carvy, bringing intelligence of the revolt of the people
of Wexford, and of the desperate position of Robert
fitz Stephen, who, with his companions, had been obliged
to seek refuge in the little fort of Carrig. A council of
war was immediately held, and it was resolved to make a
sudden sally upon the besiegers ; the camp of O'Connor
being selected as the first point of attack. A chosen band
of six hundred English was secretly assembled, which was
divided into three divisions : two hundred marched first,
led by Miles de Cogan ; they were followed by as many
more, commanded by Raymund ; and, lastly, came Strong-
bow himself, with a third division of two hundred men,

BY THE ANGLO-XORMAXS. 243

accompanied by Kavenagh, O'Carvy, and O'Ragely. The
Irish were betrayed by their own security : the first notice
they had of the approach of an enemy, was the redoubted
cry of " St. David ! " shouted in the very midst of their
tents ; and, totally unprepared for defence, their first im-
pulse was to save themselves by flight. Between one and
two thousand were slain, above a hundred of whom were
killed while bathing ; and O'Connor himself, who was at
the time of the attack in a bath, narrowly escaped. The
English pursued the fugitives till towards evening, and then
returned to the city laden with provisions. Disheartened
by the misfortune of the king of Connaught, the other
Irish chieftains who surrounded Dublin immediately broke
up their camps and sought their homes ; and the day fol-
lowing, Strongbow was on his way to Wexford. In their
march through Hy-Drone, the English were opposed by
O'Rian, the king of that district; the Irish were much su-
perior in numbers to the army of Strongbow ; but after a
fierce encounter, in which Meiler fitz Henry was thrown
from his horse by a stone, they were entirely defeated, and
O'Rian himself killed with an arrow by a monk called
Nichol ; which monk gained great praise for his valour in
the battle.

Robert fitz Stephen and his companions had defended
themselves bravely at Carrig, in daily expectation of relief
from Dublin ; till at length their besiegers demanded a
parley. They brought with them the bishops of Wexford
and Kildare, with other religious persons ; and before them
they swore solemnly, upon their relics, that Dublin was
taken, that the English had all been put to the sword, and
that the king of Connaught, with the whole Irish army,
was on his way to Wexford. They declared that they had

244 conquest or Ireland

no intention of hurting Fitz Stephen or his companions ;
that, on the contrary, they were desirous of saving them
from the fate of their countrymen at Dublin ; and that, if
they would yield themselves prisoners, they should be
allowed to pass in safety to Wales. Fitz Stephen, believing
that Dublin was lost, and thus cut off from all hopes of
relief, surrendered : the Irish, regardless of their oath,
rushed upon the English, slew several, and threw the rest,
with their leader, into prison. On the approach of Strong-
bow, the Wexfordians immediately burnt their town, and
took refuge with their prisoners in the island of Begerin
(Little Ireland), at the entrance of their harbour. The
earl, when he was informed of the destruction of the city,
and the impossibility of dislodging its inhabitants from
their asylum for the present, turned towards Waterford.

On his arrival at Waterford, Strongbow sent in haste a
messenger to Limerick, with letters to O'Brien, the king of
Minister, who had also married a daughter of king Dermod,
desiring him to join in the invasion of Ossory. The king
of Minister declared his willingness to make war against
the enemy of his father-in-law — but the hope of plunder
was perhaps a stronger incentive — and he joined the earl
of Leinster at Ydough, where their joint army amounted
to two thousand men. The king of Ossory, daunted by
the uniform success of the foreigners, offered to make re-
paration for all injuries he might have done to Dermod,
and demanded a safe conduct and an interview with Strong-
bow. Maurice de Prendergast, his old ally, offered to be
his conductor, and obtained the oaths of the English barons
that the king should be allowed to return in safety to the
woods. Strongbow loaded the king of Ossory with re-
proaches for his treason against Dermod ; and O'Brien of

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 245

Minister, perceiving that the English were prejudiced
against him, urgently begged them to arrest him ; and
thinking he perceived some inclination to follow his coun-
sel, immediately gave secret orders to his own men to sally
forth and plunder the country. But Maurice of Prender-
gast, having received intimation of what was going on,
ordered his men to arms ; and hastening himself to where
the earl and his barons were assembled, he reproached
them with treachery, and, laying his hand upon his sword,
swore, that the first who dare to lay hands upon the king of
Ossory should pay dearly for his temerity. The earl de-
clared that he had not harboured the thought of injuring
king Donald, and delivered him to Maurice, who, with his
men, accompanied him in his return to the woods. On
their way they met the men of Munster, laden with spoils.
Maurice ordered his men to charge them; several were
killed, and the rest dispersed. He passed the night in the
woods with the king of Ossory, and the next morning re-
turned to the English Camp, where the high character
which he bore saved him from the suspicions of disaffec-
tion to their cause, which his bold conduct might have
excited. The king of Munster returned to Limerick, and
the earl to Ferns, where Morrough O'Brien (0' Byrne) and
his son were brought prisoners, and immediately put to
death. The king of Hy-Kinsellagh, Muriertagh, at the
same time made his peace with the English, and was allowed
to retain his kingdom. Dismayed at the disasters which
day after day fell upon their countrymen, in their en-
counters with the invaders, the Irish clergy held a council
at Armagh, where they agreed unanimously in looking
upon them as a visitation of the divine vengeance for

246 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

their sins ; particularly for the unchristian traffic in English
slaves, of whom so many had been stolen from their homes.
The people of England had, probably, been used to pay
very little attention to the affairs of the sister isle ; and it
would seem, that hitherto the progress of the English
adventurers had not attracted much notice. The king of
England had himself long contemplated the conquest of
Ireland, but it had been his policy to cloak his views
of personal aggrandisement under the pretence of zeal for
the cause of the church. So early as the year 1155, he
had made a formal application to pope Adrian for the
apostolical permission of his undertaking ; representing to
him the barbarous and savage life which the Irish led, and
the advantages which they must themselves derive in being
placed under the influence and protection of the Romish
see.* Adrian was an Englishman, and readily listened
to these proposals ; and his bull, which is still preserved,
requires the king, in prosecuting his conquest, to secure
to him the regular payment of Peter's penny, and to attend,
above all things, to the improvement of the morals of the
uncivilised people whom he was going to place under his
sceptre. His continual hostilities on the Continent had
obliged him to delay the prosecution of the enterprise ; but
in 1171, while Strongbow was in the midst of his con-
quests, Henry, then in Normandy, called together his

* Henry proposed, " Homines illos bestiales ad fidem Christi decen-
tius revocare, ecclesiseque Romauae fidelius inclinare." — Matth. West.
For particulars of the proceedings of the king in Normandy during
this period, we may refer our readers to M. Depping's Histoire de la
Normandie, sous le Regne de Guillaume le Conquerant et de ses
Successeurs, 2 torn. Rouen, Frere, 1835.

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 247

barons at Argentan, and opened to them his intention of
marching immediately to the subjugation of Ireland.

A crowd of circumstances combined in driving the king
to this resolution. The murder of Becket, the same year,
had caused a general ferment, not less among the laity
than among the clergy ; it had raised the courage of the
king's enemies, who joined in applying to the pope for
vengeance against the murderers, and in aggravating the
blackness of the deed and the culpability of Henry himself.
The pope had appointed legates to make an inquisition
into the conduct of the latter, and they were already on
their way to Normandy. The invasion of Ireland would
at least have the effect of delaying their proceedings : it
would give the popular agitation time to subside, in turn-
ing it to a different channel ; it might also probably restore
him to the favour of the Roman see, and it would give him
an increase of popularity among his own subjects, and
would thus add to his means of defence. At the same time,
Ireland, already half-subdued by an English army, must
now be an easy acquisition ; if left longer, the barons who
had established themselves there might be strong enough
to set him at defiance. He accordingly left Normandy for
England : he there assembled a powerful army, and on the
fourteenth of September, the festival of the exaltation of
the holy cross, he reached Pembroke, where he was detained
some time by contrary winds.

Henry's first step had been to proclaim his displeasure
against Strongbow, for having made such extensive con-
quests without the authority of his sovereign. He ordered
him to appear in person at his court, confiscated his Eng-
lish estates, and forbade any ship in future, without the
royal orders, to transport men or arms from England to

248 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

Ireland. The earl immediately sent Hervy de Montmaurice
to remonstrate with the king. While Strongbow was pro-
secuting his hostilities against the king of Ossory, Hervy
arrived at Waterford, on his return from this mission, and
by his counsel the former immediately sailed for England.
According to Giraldus, he met the king at Newenham, in
Gloucestershire ; and after promising to surrender Dublin,
with its adjoining cantreds, and all the maritime towns,
as well as the strong castles of Leinster, he obtained the
royal grant, in fee to himself and heirs, of the whole of
his conquests.

Before leaving Ireland, Strongbow had given his two
cities, Dublin and Waterford, the first to the care of the
brave Miles de Cogan, who had captured it, and the other
to the custody of Gilbert de Borard. No sooner had
Strongbow left the Irish shores, than a new danger pre-
sented itself before the former city. Hasculf, who had
been driven with his Danes from Dublin, had collected a
numerous army amongst the islands. He was joined by
a famous Norwegian chieftain, called John the Furious (in
Norman, Johan le Deve ; in English of that period, John
the Woode ; in the Latin of Giraldus, Johannes Vehemens) ;
and together they entered the LifFy, in from sixty to a
hundred ships, about Pentecost, which in that year fell
on the sixteenth of May. Cogan prepared for a vigorous
defence. Gilmeholmock, an Irish king who had hitherto
been faithful to the English, and whose hostages were in
Dublin, came with his men to receive the orders of its
English governor : the latter, perhaps, had no great con-
fidence in his ally, and feared to be embarrassed by his
treachery. With the chivalrous spirit of his age, he or-
dered the Irish chieftain to stand aloof from the combat

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 249

until he should see its conclusion : should the English give
way, he was to join the enemy ; but in case they should
obtain the victory, he bound himself to join with them in
the destruction of the invaders. The place where Gilme-
holmock stationed himself is named, by the Norman poet,
" the Plogges of Sustein."

Meanwhile, John the Furious, at the head of a large
party of the Danes and Norwegians, approached the eastern
gate of the city. Giraldus describes the assailants as men
clad in iron — some in long coats of mail, others in armour
formed of plates of the same metal, skilfully joined to-
gether, with round red shields, the edges of which were
also defended with iron. Miles de Cogan, with a part of
the garrison, marched boldly out to meet them ; but the
Danes, whose hearts, as Giraldus tells us, were made of
the same metal as their arms, pressed fiercely upon the
English. Their leader proved himself worthy of his name.
With one blow of his axe he cut in two the thigh of an
English knight, though cased in iron, so that one part of
his leg fell to the ground ; and Miles and his company
were obliged to seek shelter within the walls of the city.
But his brother, Richard de Cogan, with about thirty
knights and a large company of foot, had left the city
secretly by another gate, and just as Miles was entering
the town, hard pressed by his assailants, they fell sud-
denly upon that part of the Danish army which was left in
the rear. Those who had advanced to the assault of the
city, in the moment, as they thought of victory, were
obliged to hurry back to the assistance of their compa-
nions, of whom Richard was making terrible havoc. Miles
de Cogan fell upon them as they went ; John the Furious
was himself slain by Walter de Riddlesford, one of Cogan' s

250 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

knights ; Hasculf had been already captured by Richard
de Cogan ; and, to complete the victory, Gilmeholmock,
seeing from his camp the confusion into which they had
thrown the invaders, and fearing to lose his chance of a
share in the action, rushed down with his Irish to join in
the slaughter. Two thousand Danes were slain in the
engagement— the field was covered with their dead; and
the victors pursued them so closely to the sea, that five
hundred more were drowned in attempting to gain their
ships. When Hasculf was brought before Miles, in Dublin,
his insolence so provoked the anger of the English governor,
that he immediately ordered him to be put to death.

On the evening of the sixteenth of October, the king of
England, in company with Strongbow, sailed from Mil-
ford Haven, with a fleet of four hundred ships ; and the
next day, which was Sunday, he landed, at Croch, only
a few miles from Waterford, which city he entered on the
Monday morning, the day of the festival of St. Luke.*
With the king were William fitz Aldelm, Humfrey de
Bohun, Hugh de Lacy, Robert fitz Bernard, and Bertram
de Verdun. Immediately after their arrival, Strongbow
did homage to Henry for the earldom of Leinster, and de-
livered the city into his hands ; the custody of which the
king gave to Robert fitz Bernard. Soon after, a deputa-
tion arrived from the people of Wexford, who, when they

* Our dates of Henry's progress in Ireland are chiefly taken from
the history of Benedict of Peterburgh. All the authorities agree
pretty exactly in the period of his arrival at Waterford, except the
Norman poet, whom we might almost have suspected of having used
the authority of Giraldus, and of having misunderstood his expression
" Circa Calendas Nov." when he places the king's arrival on the day
of all Saints, the first of November.

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 251

had heard that Henry was on his way to Ireland, and that
he had openly expressed his displeasure against the invaders
of that country, thought to make a merit of delivering to
him their prisoner, Robert fitz Stephen. The king at least
pretended to give ear to their accusations, and, after severely
reprimanding the delinquent, ordered him to be closely
confined in Reginald's Tower. After having received the
oaths of fidelity from the kings of Cork, Limerick, and
Ossory, as well as from Melaghlin O'Felan and Reginald
the ex-governor of "Waterford, the king proceeded to
Dublin, having previously made an excursion to Cassel and
Lismore.

Thus king Henry, after passing through Ossory, arrived at
Dublin about Martinmas ; where, outside the city by St. Mar-
tin's church, was raised for him a palace of wood and twigs,
such as those in which the Irish kings were accustomed to
hold their courts {scilicet ad morem patrice illius), though,
probably, on a much larger scale. He there held, with
great splendour, the festival of Christmas-day (which fell
on a Saturday, and was, according to the manner of reckon-
ing in those days, when the old custom of the pagan
Anglo-Saxons was still in use, the first day of the year
11/2), his court being attended by most of the native
chieftains.

At Dublin the kiug received the homage of most of the
Irish chieftains, except those of Connaught and Ulster.
The inclemency of the season obliged him, as well as
Strongbow, who held his court at Kildare, to pass the
winter in inaction ; and the news of the arrival of the
cardinals from Rome, and the rebellious projects of his son
Henry, obliged him to leave Ireland, content with receiving
the homage of O'Connor by proxy, as the haughty chieftain

252 CONQ.UEST OF IRELAND

would not condescend to pass the Finn, the boundary of his
kingdom, where he was met by Hugh de Lacy and William
fitz Aldelm. The whole of Ireland had now acknowledged
the supremacy of the king of England, except Ulster ;
which, before his departure for England, the king granted
to John de Courcy, " on the condition that he could con-
quer it." He also granted Meath in fee to Hugh de Lacy.

At the festival of the purification, the second of Feb-
ruary, the king was still at Dublin. He gave the govern-
ment of that city to Hugh de Lacy, leaving with him
Robert fitz Stephen, whom he had liberated before quitting
Waterford, Meiler fitz Henry, and Miles fitz David ; and
on Ash-Wednesday, which that year fell on the first of
March, he entered Wexford. The army proceeded thence,
about the middle of Lent, to Waterford, to embark on
board the ships which waited there ; and, having left the
two last-mentioned towns in the custody of Robert
fitz Bernard, the king left Ireland on Easter-day, the six-
teenth of April, and the same day entered Milford Haven,
whence he hastened to Normandy.

From the period of Henry's visit to Ireland, we may
date the dependence of that country upon the English
crown ; although the struggle between the invaders and the
natives was by no means ended. The succeeding history
unfolds to us a long series of violent encounters, of sur-
prises, stratagems, and murders. With the spring of 1 1 72,
Strongbow had again commenced hostilities, which were
chiefly directed against OfFally ; and in his return from one
of these excursions, in a sudden and unexpected attack
from the Irish, he lost his constable and standard bearer,
Robert de Quency, to whom he had given in marriage his
sister Basilea. Raymund sought the hand of the widow,

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 253

and the constableship, until the only daughter of De
Quency should be of age to marry. His demand was refused :
he left Ireland in disgust, and returned to Wales ; and the
constableship was given to the care of his envious rival,
Hervy de Montmaurice. When the Irish were no longer
held in check by the bravery and experience of Raymund,
the loss of his services was soon felt by the English, and
he was recalled by Strongbow ; who now, at last, consented
to give him his sister in marriage, and with her the custody
of the constableship and considerable grants of land,
including Fothard, Hy-Drone, and Glascarrig. At the
same time, he made a general distribution of lands to his
followers ; he gave O'Barthie to Hervy ; he gave Fernege-
nall to Maurice de Prendergast, who also possessed the
district of Kinsellagh ; to Meiler fitz Henry he gave Car-
berry : and to Maurice fitz Gerald, Wicklow and the terri-
tory of Mac Kelan.

Hugh de Lacy, who had been left governor of Dublin,
nearly fell a victim to the treachery of O'Rourk, whom
Giraldus calls "the one-eyed king of Meath." He was
saved by the vigilance of Maurice fitz Gerald. O'Rourk
himself was killed ; and soon afterwards, Lacy, having by
the king's orders delivered Dublin to Strongbow, entered
into Meath, which the king had granted to him, and dis-
tributed large gifts of land among his followers. The
whole strength of the Irish was now directed against the
new settlements in Meath; and during Hugh de Lacy's
absence his lands were invaded, and his castles, particularly
that of Trim, destroyed.

But if disunion was sometimes the bane of the English
settlers, it was much more frequently the cause of defeat
and disgrace to the natives. Immediately after the invasion

254 CONQUEST OF IRELAND

of Meath, we find the king of Ossory, the old enemy of
Dermod, leading the English army against the distant city
of Limerick.* After prodigies of valour performed by the
latter, who were led by their favorite commander Raymund,
that city was taken ; and the aid of the conqueror was
almost immediately solicited by Dermod mac Carthy the
king of Desmond, against his rebellious son. This district
also became tributary to the English. While Raymund
was at Limerick, his brother-in-law, earl Strongbow, died
at Dublin in the beginning of the June of 1 l/C, the sixth
year after the first landing of the English adventurers in
Ireland ; and Raymund immediately left Limerick, which
it would have been dangerous to retain at this critical
moment, to the care of an Irish chieftain. The latter
rebelled, and Limerick was lost for the second time since
its first occupation by the English. Maurice fitz Gerald
died at Wexford at the end of the August following. After
Strongbow's death, the king confided the government of
Ireland to William fitz Aldelm.

The government of Fitz Aldelm was weak and ungrate-
ful to the English ; and John de Courcy was driven, by
his disgust with the conduct of his superior, to undertake
his long-projected expedition against Ulster. With a few
brave companions he made a three days' march through a
hostile country, and on the fourth reached the city of Down ;
which, totally unprepared for so sudden an attack, was im-
mediately occupied by the invaders. The king, Dunleve,
saved himself by flight ; but, after some attempts at nego-
tiation, he returned with an army of ten thousand men to

* In the commencement of this siege the Norman poem ends
abruptly.

BY THE ANGLO-NORMANS. 255

recover his capital. The men of Ulster were the bravest
of the Irish, yet John de Courcy, disdaining to fight within
walls, advanced from the city to meet them ; and a long
and obstinate battle ended in the success of the English,
who made so terrible a slaughter of their enemies, that
Giraldus applies to them literally an old Irish prophecy,
which said that the invaders of Ulster should march up to
their knees in blood. The fate of Ulster was disputed in
many battles, but the desperate valour of John de Courcy
overcame all obstacles, and the last independent province
of Ireland was placed under English law and Romish
church discipline. The chronicles of the time tell us how
the barbarous manners of the natives were suddenly im-
proved and polished by the more vigorous government
under which they were placed. *

* All the documents of this period agree in representing Ireland as
not only a land of savages, hut as a den of thieves. William of New-
bury, (lib. iii. c. 9,) speaking of the manners of the people of Ulster at
the time of their conquest by De Courcy, says, " Hujus autem pro-
vincial homines prse cunctis Hyberniee populis in celebratione paschaii
eatenus superstitiosi fuisse traduntur. Nam sicut quodam venerabili
episcopo gentis illius referente cognovi, arbitrabantur obsequium se
praestare Deo, clum per anni circulum furto et rapina congererent, quod
in paschaii solemnitate profusissimis tanquam ad honorem resurgentis
Domini absumeretur conviviis, eratque inter eos urgens concertatio, ne
forte qnis ab alio immoderatissimis ferculorum prseparationibus vince-
retur. Verum hanc superstitiosissimam consuetudinem cum statu liber-
tatis propria? debellati finierunt."

ESSAY XIX.

ON OLD ENGLISH POLITICAL SONGS.

0 class of literary antiquities has pro-
gressed more rapidly with us during the
last twenty years than the study of early
English poetry. Until the time of War-
ton, it was hardly supposed that the his-
tory of English poetry could he traced back beyond the
days of Chaucer ; and Warton's history is very incomplete,
and abounds with inaccuracies. Percy, by the popular
character of his Reliques, called a little more of public
attention to the subject. Ritson was certainly the first
who carried any true zeal to his researches among early
English poetical manuscripts, and who edited the texts
with conscientiousness ; but his vain pedantry and acri-
mony of temper, and his entire want of judgment, detract
much from the utility of his labours. After Ritson' s time,
this class of literature dwindled again into little more than
a plaything for bibliographers. In more recent times it
has been taking its stand on a better footing ; and more
accurate philological notions have been brought to the
study of our language in its earlier and middle stages.
That these notions, however, are but yet in their infancy,
is proved by the fact that so worthless a text as that of

POLITICAL SONGS. 257

Tyrwhitt's Chaucer has been suffered to be reprinted more
than once within the last two or three years.

The supremacy of the Anglo-Norman language has
created rather a wide gap between the disappearance of
the pure Anglo-Saxon poetry and the commencement of
the early English ; for, during the long period between
the conquest and the middle of the thirteenth century, we
find only two poems of any magnitude, the chronicle of
Layamon and the Gospel Harmony of Orm, and one or
two short pieces, such as the proverbs of Alfred, a Bestiary,
a fragment on the popular subject of the body and the
soul, and the poem of the Owl and the Nightingale. The
language of most of these is in a state of rapid transition,
which has commonly received the title of Semi-Saxon.
A large portion of them partake of the older Saxon form
of alliteration, mixed with rhyme. The English language
appears to have regained its position of supremacy after
the great baronial struggle under Simon de Montfort ; and
from this period to the war of the Roses it has been some-
times denominated, by those who follow the nomenclature
of Dr. Grimm, Middle-English. During the latter part of
the thirteenth century and the beginning of the fourteenth,
the English poetry appears with the forms and much of
the spirit of the French and Anglo-Norman poetry, of
which it was taking the place.

The longer poems — especially the religious poetry — of
the first half of the fourteenth century, are dull and heavy.
But, under Edward III, the old alliterative poetry, which
had probably continued to exist orally, suddenly reappeared
in the spirited and extremely popular political allegory of
the "Visions of Piers Ploughman." Immediately after
this work came the real father of modern English poetry,

258 OLD ENGLISH

Geoffrey Chaucer. The production of those high cultiva-
tions of poetry represented by Chaucer appears to have
been the result of a long age of intellectual movement,
which, after his death, gave place to an age of more than
ordinary intellectual darkness, when English poetry be-
comes, it is true, very abundant, but when it possesses
very little merit. John Lydgate is the type of the poetical
literature of this age.

In general, during the whole of the period of which we
are speaking, we find the greatest share of poetic spirit in
the popular songs and ballads. The English lyric poetry
of the reign of Edward I is, from the form of the lan-
guage, somewhat obscure, but it is often very elegant.
We have much good lyric poetry in the fourteenth century,
and a few charming specimens even in the fifteenth. The
political songs partake largely of this character, and they
always present at least that vivacity which is the necessary
consequence of popular excitement.

The collection of " Political Songs" published by the
Camden Society was an attempt to form a regular series of
such monuments in illustration of English history. They
are not only valuable in this point of view, but also as the
most authentic proofs of the variations through which our
language has passed. Unfortunately they are the class of
which, naturally, the smallest portion has been preserved.
Until the middle of the thirteenth century the political
songs of this country appear to have been almost universally
written in Latin or French, because it was only the grades of
society which made use of those languages who took an
active part in political transactions. The lower orders, till
then in a state bordering on slavery, came into life in the
baronial wars, after which their language — in principle

POLITICAL SONGS. 259

the language of their Saxon forefathers — was heard loudest
as the watchword of political strife. The oldest English
political song preserved relates to the battle of Lewes in
1261.

From notices however, which frequently occur in our
old chronicles, it appears very clearly that, at all periods
of English history, songs and ballads were the popular
instruments equally of libel and of praise, of expressing
dissatisfaction as well as of rejoicing. In Fabyan we are
told, that on the death of king Henry I people were di-
vided in their opinions, some praising his good qualities,
whilst others were more inclined to censure his faults.
" One other," he adds, " made these versys of hym as
folowen :

" Kynge Henrye is deade, bewtie of the worlde, for whom his greate

dole,
Goddes nowe maken for theyr kinde brother. For he is sole
Mercurius in speche, Marce in battayle, harte stronge Appollo,
Jupyter in hest, egall with Saturne, and enemye to Cupydo.
Kyng he was of ryght, and man of most might, and gloryous in

rayning.
And when he left his crowne, then fell honour downe, for mysse of

suche a kynge.
Normandye than gan lowre, for losse of theyr floure, and sange wel

away,
Englande made mone, and Scotlande dyd grone, for to se that daye."

This is probably a mere translation from a Latin poem.

Songs appear also, from an early period, to have been
favorite instruments in raising and organising rebel-
lions. The two lines given by Holinshed and Lambarde,
as part of those sung by the earl of Leicester's rebels in
the reign of Henry II, —

260 OLD ENGLISH

" Hoppe Wylikin, hoppe Wyllykin,
Ingland is thyne and myne."

sound to us very much like the burden of a song. In Wat
Tyler's rebellion, in the reign of Richard II, the letter of
John Ball, given in Holinshed, from an older chronicle, a
copy of which was said to have been found in the pocket
of one of the rioters, contains some rude rhymes, such as
we may suppose these rustics to have committed to memory
as a sort of watchword :

" John Scheepe, S. Marie preest of Yorke, and now of Colchester,
greeteth well John Namelesse, aud John the Miller, and John Carter,
and biddeth them that they beware of guile in bourrough, and stand
togither in God's name ; and biddeth Piers ploughman to go to his
worke, and chastise well Hob the robber, and take with you John
Trewman and all his fellowes, and no mo.

' John the Miller y-ground small, small, small ;
the kings sonne of heaven shall paie for all.
Beware or yee be wo,
knowe your freend from your fo,
have inough and saie ho,
and doo well and better, flee sinne,
and seeke peace, and hold you therein,
And so biddeth John Trewman and all his fellowes.' "

On the Scottish borders there would seem to have been
kept up a constant warfare with songs and ballads. Fabyan,
speaking of the second year of Ed. Ill (1327), says,
" In this yere, whiche at this daye was the seconde yere of
the kyng Davyd fore said, the soonne of Robert le
Bruze, then kyng of Scottes, maryed vpon the daye of
Marye Magdeleine, at the towne of Berwyke, the forenamed
Jane, sister vnto the kyng of Englande. But it was not long

POLITICAL SONGS. 261

or the Scottes, in dispite of the Englishe menne, called hir
Jane Makepeace. And also to their more derision, thei
made diuerse truffes, roundes, and songes, of the whiche
one is specially remembred as foloweth :

Long beerdis hartles
Paynted hoodes cobles,
Gay cottes gracelis,
Maketh Englande thryfteles.

Whiche ryme, as saieth Gvydo, was made by the S cottes,
princypally for the deformyte of clothyng that at those
dayes was vsed by Englysshe menne."

A few years before this, in 1297, while Edward I was
besieging Berwick, the Scots made this rhyme upon him,
as saith Fabyan :

" What wenys kyng Edward with his long shankes
To have wonne Berwike, all our unthankes.
Gaas pykes hym,
And when he hath it
Gaas dykes hym."

However, the Scots were beaten in this instance, both
with sword and song. Berwick was soon taken, and, shortly
after, they suffered a signal discomfiture at Dunbar : " Wher-
fore the Englishe menne, in reproche of the Scottes, made
this rime following :

" These scaterand Scottes
Hold wee for sottes

Of wrenches unware ;
Erly in a mornyng
In an eivill timyng

Came thei to Dunbarre."

262 OLD ENGLISH

We imagine, this, too, from the appearance of it, to have
been a stanza of a song ; it is inserted, with several other
similar fragments, in the French metrical chronicle of
Peter Langtoft.

With the reigns of Henry III and the Edwards such poems
become much more plentiful than in previous times, and are
(particularly under Edward I) for their intrinsic merit well
deserving of our notice. Few political events seem to have
happened at the time which were not thought worthy, at
least, of a song. We may instance one. The battle of Lewes,
gained by the barons in the reign of Henry, could not fail to
raise the hopes of their partisans to the highest pitch ; and
we have, in a MS. in the Harleian collection, a spirited song,
which may be supposed to have been written in the mo-
ment of victory. It is altogether a clever and witty per-
formance, and the circumstance of the king of Almaigne
having, after the battle was lost, taken refuge in a wind-
mill, which he barricadoed and defended till evening, when
he was compelled to surrender, is sarcastically related :

" The kyng of Alemaigne wende do ful wel,
He saisede the ruulne for a castel,
With hare sharp e swerdes he grounde the stel,
He wende that the sayles were mangonel

To helpe Wyndesore.

The kyng of Alemaigne gederede ys host,
Makede him a castel of a mulne post,
Wende with is prude and is muchele host,
Brohte from Alemayne moni sori gost

To store Wyndesore."

The battle of Evesham, which followed, and in which
Simon de Montfort, the head of the rebellious barons was

POLITICAL SONGS. 263

slain, gave occasion for other poems; and there is one
among the Harleian MSS. in Norman French, made, like
the other, by one of De Montfort's partisans, lamenting
over the fate of that nobleman, and holding him forth* in
the light of a martyr. The song on Sir Piers de Birming-
ham also belongs to the end of this reign, though written
some years after : as also, perhaps, the severe satires on
the Romish clergy, contained in the MS. from which that
song was taken. Among them is a ballad setting forth
(and with good reason, as we may gather from Fabyan)
the violent and unjust proceedings of the people in power,
and applying to them, with much naivete, a fable of the
lion (as king) and the wolf, fox, and ass, where the fox by
his cunning, and the wolf by his strength and power, are
allowed to rob and oppress with impunity, while the simple
ass is punished even for his harmlessness.

Of the reign of Edward I we may mention the ballads
against the French and against the Scots, which have been
printed from the Harleian MSS. No. 2253 ; the former of
which ends with this denunciation :

" 5ef the prince of Walis his lyf habhe mote,
Hit falleth the kyng of Fraunce bittrore theu the sote ;
Bote he the rathere therof welle do bote,

Wei sore hit shal hym rewe."*

There is also a ballad, or " ditty," as it is called in the
catalogue, in the same MS., complaining much of the great
taxes and fees extorted by the king's officers ; and a song,
partly in French and partly in Latin, accusing the king
with leaving England to make war in foreign parts, against

* Bote, unless — welle do bote, make full amendment.

264 OLD ENGLISH

the will of his subjects, and of oppressing his people by
levying a fifteenth, and taxing their wool, &c. ; half of the
produce of which taxes did not come into his coffers, but
was embezzled by the officers who collected it. Another
Norman-French poem is directed against the commission
of traile-baston, which was issued by Edward I about
1306, and consequently near the end of his reign. The
last stanza informs us how secretly it was written :

" C'est rym fust fet al bois, desouz un lorer ;
La chaunte merle, russinole, e eyre l'esperver.
Escrit estoit en parchemyn par mout remembrer ;
E gitte en haut chemyn, qe urn le dust trover."

Percy printed, from the same volume, an elegy on the
death of Edward I. ; in which his loss is bewailed as that
of the first knight in Christendom. A Norman-French
version of the same elegy is found in a manuscript in the
public library at Cambridge.* Fabyan seems to look upon
this king Edward with great satisfaction, and gives us two
Latin elegies on his death, which he has translated into
English, " to the entent that they shulde be had in mynde."
One of them, because it is short, we give here :

" While lyved this kynge,
By his power all thynge

Was in good plyghte.
For gyle was hydde,
Greate peace was kydde,

And honeste had myghte."

* All these are printed in my Political Songs, published by the
Camden Society.

POLITICAL SOXGS. 265

During the reigns of the first three Edwards, indeed,
poetry seems to have been much cultivated. The kings
carried about with them, when on their military expedi-
tions, chosen poets to celebrate their victories ; and we
have an excellent specimen of their performances in the spi-
rited poetry of Lawrence Minot, under Edward III, which has
been printed from one of the Cottonian MSS. by Ritson.

From this time forward we can collect a regular series
of poetical attacks on the growing vices of the Romish
clergy till the reformation ; and some few poetical pieces
by the monks, in their own defence. Of the latter may
be instanced the song against the Lollards, printed by
Ritson. Of the former, among the earliest are those con-
tained in the Harl. MSS. No. 913. Immediately follow-
ing these, in respect to date, are those contained in No. 2253
of the same collection ; of which one, in Norman-French,
which sums up all the vices of the clergy in the quali-
fications of an imaginary new order — " Vordre de bel eyse"
— is extremely amusing.

In the succeeding reign we have some few scattered pieces
of a political character, and it is extremely probable that
many more may easily be found. To the reign of Richard
II we may refer the subjects of the two ancient ballads
of Chevy Chase and Otterbourne, given by Percy, though
the ballads themselves are of a later date. Among the
MSS. of Corpus College, there are one or two copies of
verses relating to the insurrections of the peasantry during
this reign. One of these, in alternate lines of English
and Latin, made by one who at least seems to have favoured
the commonalty, is any thing but a rustic composition : it
is printed from more than one manuscript, in the Reliquiae
Antiquse, and begins thus, —
VOL. II. 12

266 OLD ENGLISH

" Tax has tenet us all,

probat hoc mors tot validorum,
The kyng therof hade smalle,
fait in manibus cupidorum." *

The old chronicles give us a most melancholy picture
of the dissensions and "frays," as Fabyan calls them,
which raged in most of our towns during these ages ;
and we can scarcely doubt that each town had its own
songs and ballads. We shall give an example of one of
these, which has been printed from the Cole MSS. by
Hartshorne, — a threatening notice which was posted over
the door of the mayor of Cambridge (or, as the title has
it, billa posita super hostium majoris), in the beginning of
the fifteenth century ; it is worthy in every respect of a
modern contested election.

11 Looke out here, maire, with thie pilled pate,

And see wich a scrowe is set on thie gate,
Warning the of harde happes,

For and it lukke thou shalt have swappes.
Therefore I rede keepe the at home ;

For thou shalt ahey for that is done :
Or els kest on a coate of mayle ;

Truste well thereto withouten fayle.
And great Golias Joh Essex
Shalt have a clowte with my harille axe,

Wherever I may him have.
And the hosteler Barnbo, with his goats beard,
Once and it happe shall be made afeard,

So God mote me save.
And 3it with thie catche-poles hope I to mete,
With a fellow or twayne in the playne streete,

* Tenet, grieved.

POLITICAL SONGS. 267

And her crownes brake.
And that harlot Hierman, with his calves snowte,
Of buffets full sekerly shall hern a rowte,

For his werkes sake.
And yet shall Hankyn Attibrigge,
Full jerne for swappes his tayle wrigge,

And it hap ariht.
And other knaves all on heape
Shall take knockes ful good cheape,

Come once winter niht.
But nowe I praye to God Almight,

That whatsoever thou spare,
That metche sorowe to him bediht,

And evill mote he fare.
Amen, quoth he that beshrewd the mairs very visage." *

In the reign of Henry V we have a song of rejoicing
on the victory at Azincourt, printed by Percy from one of
the Pepysian MSS., which, as he observes, has no poetical
merits to commend it. The reign of his successor affords
us more. We have a sarcastic ballad, exulting over the
death of the duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole ; and
another song, which is curious, as relating to an important
event. After the first battle of St. Albans, by the media-
tion of the archbishop of Canterbury and others, a con-
ference was held between the two adverse parties, the
Yorkists and Lancastrians. " By reason whereof, " says
Fabyan, <fa dissimuled unite and Concorde betwene theim
was concluded. In token and for ioy wherof, the kyng,
the quene, and all the said lordes, vpon our Lady daye
annunciacion in Lent at Paules wente solemply in proces-

* Wich a scroive, what a scroll — rede, counsel — best, cast — pt, yet
— sekerly, surely — $erne, earnestly — metche, much.

268 OLD ENGLISH

sion, and soone after euery lorde departed where his pleasure
was." This procession is the subject of the song just
mentioned. It describes the joy manifested on the occa-
sion, recounts the principal persons who had laboured to
bring about peace, and concludes with the praise of London.

11 God preserve hem we pray hertly,
And London, for thei ful diligently
Kepten the peas in trowbel and adversite,
To bryng in reste thei labured ful truly.

Of thre thynges I praise the worshipful cite :

The firste, the true faithe that thei have to the kynge ;

The seconde, of love to the comynalte ;

The thrid, goude rule for evermore kepynge.

The which God maynteyn evermore durynge,
And save the maier and all the worthi cite ;
And that is amys God bryng to amendynge,
That Anglond may rejoise to concorde and unite."

It is worthy of remark, as regards the praise thus
bestowed on " the worshipful cite," that, after mentioning
this procession, Fabyan tells us, in his pleasant gossipping

way, " and in the moneth of folowyng, was a greate

fray in fletestrete, betwene the menne of courte and the
inhabitauntes of the said strete in whiche fraye a gentil-
manne beynge the queues attourney was slaine." A number
of very curious political songs, relating to the events of
the wars of the Roses have been contributed by Sir Fre-
deric Madden and others to the later volumes of the
Archseologia.

During the reigns of which we have been speaking, we
have also abundance of poetry of a lighter cast, much of

POLITICAL SONGS. 269

which has already been printed. "We will give a song,
though rude in its kind, from a small volume, contained
in the Sloane MSS. in the British Museum, on paper, in
the writing of about the age of Henry VI. These songs,
which are in a dialect rather provincial, are very curious
specimens of the popular poetry of that age. The following
is of a satirical character, and is not entirely devoid of wit.
It describes the mischances to which a man was liable, who
carried what was then looked upon as an article of osten-
tation, a baselard (dagger), but who had not courage to
keep it.

" Prenegard, prenegard, thus bere I myn baselard.
Lesteneth, lordyngs, I jou beseke,
Ther is non man \Y0r3t a leke,
Be he sturdy, be he meke,
But he bere a baselard.

Myn baselard hajt a schede of red,
And a clene loket of led ;
Me thinketh I may bere up my hed,
For I bere myn baselard.

My baselard hajt a wrethin hafte ;
Qwan I am ful of ale cawte,
It is gret dred of man slawte,

For then I bere myn baselard.

My baselard hajt a silver shape ;
Therfore I may both gaspe and gape.
Me thinketh I go lyk non knape,
For I bere a baselard.

My baselard hajt a trencher kene,
Fayr as rasour scharp and schene.
Evere me thinketh I may be kene,
For I bere a baselard.

270 OLD ENGLISH

As I jede up in the strete,
With a cartere I gan mete :
Felawe, he seyde, so mot I the,
Thou xalt forgo thi baselard.

The cartere his qwyppe began to take,
And al myn fleych began to qwake,
And I was lef for to escape,

And there I left myn baselard.

Qwan I came fo^t on to myn damme,
Myn hed was brokyn to the panne :
Che seyde I was a praty manne,

And wel cowde here myn baselard."*

As we approach the time of the reformation, with
the introduction and improvement of the art of printing,
books of all kinds become more and more abundant ; and
we are then at no loss for political songs. The bustling
reign of Henry VIII, for instance, will furnish us with
many. During this reign, it appears that broadside printed
ballads became common, and the folio volumes of these
ballads, and other political poems, which Percy mentions
as existing in the archives of the Society of Antiquaries,
and " digested under the several reigns of Henry VIII,
Edward VI, Mary, Elizabeth, James I, &c," contain some
curiosities.

Ritson was not right in saying that " very few ballads
exist of an earlier date than the reign of James, or even
Charles I." This would, nevertheless, be a thing not
so much to be lamented, as far as regards ballads of a

* Worst, worth — qwan, when—schene, bright — lede, went — the,
thrive — qwyppe, whip— -font, forth — damme, dame.

POLITICAL SONGS. 2/1

general nature, inasmuch as they were mostly reprinted in
garlands by their authors, such as Deloney, and " that
balad-poet, Thomas Elderton, who did arm himself with
ale, as old father Ennius did with wine, when he balated."
A great portion, too, of the broadside ballads published
during the seventeenth century were reprints. Unfortu-
nately, the political ballads were those least attractive to
the buyers of succeeding times.

When we speak of the political ballads as being seldom
reprinted, we except many historical ballads, which we find
were reprinted, and some of which may perhaps be traced
back with sufficient certainty to the time, or very near the
time, of the events to which they refer. There are some
also which seem to be revivals of older ballads, much mo-
dernised, like the modern copy of Chevy Chace. In making
this observation, we had more particularly in our mind
such a ballad as that in the Garland of Delight (one of
Deloney' s garlands), which has for its title, "The Winning
of the Isle of Man, by the noble Earl of Salisbury." We
give the first three stanzas.

" The noble earl of Salisbury,

With many a hardy knight,
Most valiantly prepard himself

Against the Scots to fight.
With his spear and his shield

Making his proud foes to yield,
Fiercely on them all he ran,

To drive them from the Isle of Man,
Drums striking on a row,

Trumpets sounding as they go,

Tan ta ra ra ra tan.

272 OLD ENGLISH

Their silken ensigns in the field

Most gloriously were spread,
The horsemen on their prancing steeds

Struck many Scotchmen dead ;
The hrown bills on their corslets ring,

The bowmen with their gray goose wing,
The lusty lance, the piercing spear,

The soft flesh of their foes do tear ;
Drums beating on a row,

Trumpets sounding as they go,

Tan ta ra ra ra tan.

The battle was so fierce and hot,

The Scots for fear did fly,
And many a famous knight and 'squire

In gory blood did lie.
Some, thinking for to scape away,

Did drown themselves within the sea
Some, with many a bloody wound,

Lay gasping on the clayey ground ;
Drums beating on a row,

Trumpets sounding as they go,

Tan ta ra ra ra tan."

In the sequel, king Edward makes the earl knight of the
garter and first king of Man. We find it noticed in
Gough's Camden, that in the reign of Edward III, about
the year 1340, William Montacute the younger, earl of
Salisbury, " rescued Man by force of arms out of the hands
of the Scots/'

Of the political poems of the reign of Henry VIII, we
may mention the ballads on the battle of Flodden, of which
there are several, and the songs and ballads on the Refor-
mation. We may add to these the so-much and so unjustly

POLITICAL SONGS. 2/3

censured poems of the "lawreate" Skelton, of which an
edition has been recently published by Mr. Dyce. A
volume in the Harleian collection contains several libels
of Henry's reign, (No. 2252.) Percy has printed a song
on the fall of Cromwell. There is a ballad, preserved in
one of the garlands, on the riots against the foreigners at
this time j and there is in MS. a song, which has been
printed by Sir John Hawkins, and is supposed to be a satire
on the drunken Flemings who came into England with the
princess Anne of Cleves.

" Ruttekin is come unto our town,
In a cloke without cote or gown,
Save a raggid hoode to kyver his crown.
Like a ruttekin, hoyday, hoyday,
Jolly ruttekin, hoyday, hoyday.

Ruttekin can speke no Englishe,
His tong renyth all on buttyrd fishe,
Besrnerde with greese about his dishe,
Like a ruttekin, &c.

Ruttekin shall bring you all good luck,
A stoop of beer up at a pluk,
Till his braine be as wise as a duk,
Like a ruttekin, &c."

Among the Lansdowne MSS. there is a volume of poems
written on paper said in the catalogue to be of " about the
time of Henry VIII," and some of its contents prove this
to be correct. The poem, however, which we are going to
quote is at least older than the time of the reformation.
Its title in the MS. is "A processe or an exortation to
tendre the chargis of the true husbondys," and it gives us

12§

274 OLD ENGLISH

a singularly curious account of the taxes and extortions to
which landed property was then subjected. After repeating
the burden — "I praye to God spede wele the plough" —
the song goes on to say :

" And so shulde of right the parson praye,
That hath the tithe shefe of the londe ;
For our sarvauntys we most nedis paye,
Or ellys ful still the plough niaye stonde.
Then cometh the clerk anon at hande
To have a shef of come there it groweth ;
And the sexten somwhate in his hande.
I praye to God spede wele the plough.

The kyngis purviours also they come

To have whete and otys at the kyngis nede,

And over that hefe and mutton,

And hutter and pulleyn, so God me spede ;

And to the kyngis courte we moste it lede,

And our payment shal be a styk of a bough ;

And yet we moste speke faire for drede.

I praye to God spede wele the plough.

To paye the ffiftene agenst our ease,

Beside the lordys rente of our londe ;

Thus be we shepeshorne, we maynst chese,

And yet it is full lytell y understonde.

Then bayllys and bedell woll put to there hande,

In enquestis to doo us sorowe inough,

But yf we quite right wele the londe.

I praye to God spede wele the plough.

* * * *

Then come the gray ffreres and make their mone,
And call for money our soulis to save.
Then come the white tfreres and begyn to grone,
Whete or barley they woll fayne have.

POLITICAL SONGS. 2/5

Then cometh the freres augustynes and begynneth to crave

Corne or chese, for they have not inough.

Then cometh the black freres which wolde fayne have.

I praye to God spede wele the plough.

* * * *

Then cometh prestis that goth to Rome,

For to have silver to singe at Scala Celi.

Than cometh clerkys of Oxford and mak their mone,

To her scole hire they most have money.

Then cometh the tipped staves for the marshalse,

And saye they have prisoners mo than inough.

Than cometh the mynstrells to make us gle.

I praye to God spede wele the plough."

In the same volume there is a song in praise of the
" worthi cite," of which a verse may serve as a sample :

" Stronge be the walls abowte the stondis ;
Wise be the people that within the dwelles ;
Freshe is thy river with his lusti strandes ;
Blithe be thy chirches, well sownyng are thy belles ;
Rich be thy marchauntis in substaunce that excells ;
Faire be thy wives, right lovesom white and small ;
Clere be thy virgyns, lusty under kellys.
London, thou art the flowre of cities all."

The inclosing of common lands, in the time of Edw. VI,
seems to have created a very general feeling of discontent.
In the library of Corpus College, Cambridge, we have two
MS. copies of songs on this subject.

The political poetry of the reigns of Mary* and Elizabeth
is perhaps the least interesting of any period of our history.

* There are, however, two or three libellous ballads of Mary's reign
in existence ; one, in the Corpus College library before mentioned, was
made on the report of her pregnancy.

2/6 OLD ENGLISH

There are, however, many good historical ballads of this
time preserved, and not a few have been printed by Evans
and Percy. We will pass them over, to give room for a
satirical ballad against the Scottish adventurers who mi-
grated into England to seek their fortunes under the first
of the Stuarts.

" Well met, Jockie, whether away ?
Shall we two have a worde or tway ?
Thow was so lousie the other day,
How the devill comes thow so gay ?

Ha ha ha, by sweet St. An,
Jockie is grown a gentleman ! *

Thy shoes that thow wor'st when thow wenst to plow,
Were made of the hyde of a Scottish cow.
They are turnd into Spanish leather now,
Bedeckt with roses, I know not how.

Thy stockings that were of a northerne blew,
That cost not past 12d. when they were new,
Are turnd into a silken hew,
Most gloriously to all mens vew.

Thy belt that was made of a white leather thonge,
Which thow and thy father ware so longe,
Are turnd to hangers of velvet stronge,
With golde and pearle embroydred amonge.

Thy garters that were of the Spanish say,
Which from the taylor thow stollst away,
Are now quite turnd to silk, they say,
With great broade laces fayre and gay.

* The burden is repeated after every stanza,

POLITICAL SONGS. 277

Thy doublet and breech that were so playne,
On which a louse could scarse remayne,
Are turnd to sattin, God a mercie brayne,
That thow by begging couldst this obtayne.

Thy cloake which was made of a home-spun thread,

Which thow wast wonte to flinge on thy bed,

Is turnd into a skarlet red,

With golden laces about thee spread.

Thy bonnet of blew which thow wor'st hether,
To keep thy skonce from wind and wether,
Is throwne away the devill knowes whether,
And turnd to a bever hat and feather.

Westminster Hall was covered with lead,
And so was St. John many a day ;
The Scotchmen have begd it to buy them bread;
The devill take all such Jockies away ! "

About this time the manners of society in England
appear to have experienced a very perceptible change ;
and the reign of James is perhaps the time at which we
may date the decline of what is so expressively termed
the "old English hospitality." The change is not unfre-
quently alluded to in the popular poetry of the day.
There is an old black-letter ballad expressly on this sub-
ject, which is entitled, " Time's Alteration, or the old
man's rehearsal, what brave days he knew a great while
agone, when his old cap was new." We give a few verses
of this ballad.

* * * *

" Good hospitality

Was cherished then of many :
Now poor men starve and die,

And are not help'd by any ;

278 OLD ENGLISH

For charity waxeth cold,

And love is found in few :
This was not in time of old,

When this old cap was new.

Wherever you travell'd then,

You might meet on the way
Brave knights and gentlemen,

Clad in their country gray,
That courteous would appear,

And kindly welcome you :
No puritans then were,

When this old cap was new.

* * * *

A man might then behold,

At Christmas, in each hall,
Good fires to curb the cold,

And meat for great and small :
The neighbours were friendly bidden,

And all had welcome true,
The poor from the gates were not chidden,

When this old cap was new.

Black Jacks to every man

Were fill'd with wine and beer
No pewter pot nor can

In those days did appear :
Good cheer in a nobleman's house

Was counted a seemly shew ;
We wanted no brawn nor souse,

When this old cap was new."

So also, in the song of " The Old and Young Courtier,"
which is printed by Percy, and which was written about
this time, the courtier of Queen Elizabeth's days is de-
scribed as —

POLITICAL SONGS. 279

" an old worshipful gentleman, who had a greate estate,

That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,

And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate ;

Like an old courtier of the queen's,
And the queen's old courtier.

With an old lady, whose anger one word asswages ;
They every quarter paid their old servants their wages,
And never knew what belongd to coachmen, footmen, nor pages,
But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges ;
Like an old courtier, &c.

*****
With a good old fashion, when Christmasse was come,
To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum,
With good chear enough to furnish every old room,
And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb.
Like an old courtier, &c."

The "young courtier" is, on the other hand,

" Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his land,
Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command,
And takes up a thousand pound upon his father's land,
And gets drunk in a tavern, till he can neither go nor stand ;
Like a young courtier of the king's,
And the king's young courtier.

*****
With a new fashion, when Christmas is drawing on,
On a new journey to London straight we all must be gone,
And leave none to keep house, but our new porter John,
Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone ;
Like a young courtier, &c."

The reign of the first Charles was one continuous scene
of conflict with mouth, peD, and sword. Enthusiasm,
which was equally conspicuous in every party, broke through

280 OLD ENGLISH

all restraint ; and we find an entirely new spirit infused
into the poetry of the day. In place of the stiff and con-
strained style, with its quaint and stolen conceits, which
distinguished most of the poets of the preceding reign, we
have all at once a style whose characteristic is an extraor-
dinary flow of wit, combined with ease and readiness of
expression. The cavaliers were often men of talent and
education — they were withal merry fellows ; and they at
once indulged their hatred of the party which was upper-
most, and drowned the vexation which arose from their
own mishaps, in satirical and jovial songs. We have always
thought, that from the numerous small volumes of poems,
many of them anonymous, which were printed during this
period, an interesting selection might be made. The third
volume of Ellis's Specimens of the Early English Poets was,
it is true, devoted to the reigns of James and the Charleses;
but that book labours under the defect peculiar to all si-
milar works — it is a collection of authors, and not of poetry.
What care we for a long series of obscure names, many
of them scarcely known even to their contemporaries, if
there is nothing in their works to interest us ? We would
have a book which should illustrate the poetry of the day
— a book which should illustrate the times, and not the
authors' names. But, as it is, Ellis's book is any thing but
complete : we do not meet with the name even of the clever
and witty Dr. Corbet, or of Cleveland, who was looked
upon as the "wit of his age," and of whom it was ob-
served, that "he might be said to have lisped wit."

But we will proceed to give a few " ensamples " of the
songs we are talking of. Here, then, is a song by a zealous
cavalier, from Songs and Poems of Love and Drollery, by
J. W> (1654).

POLITICAL SONGS. 281

" The compounder's song.

Come, drawers, some wine,

Or we'l pull down your sign ;
For we're all jovial compounders.

We'l make the house ring

With healths to the king,
And confusion unto his confounders.

Since Goldsmiths committee

Affords us no pittie,
Our sorrows in wine we will steep 'm ;

They forc'd us to take

Two oaths, and we make
A third, that we ne're mean to keep 'm.

And first, who e're sees,

We'l drink on our knees,
To th' king ; may they choak that repine :

A fig for the traitors

That look to his waters,
Th' ave nothing to do with our wine.

And next here's a cup

To the queen ; fill it up,
Wer't poison we would make an end on't :

May Charles and she meet,

And tread under feet
Anabaptist and independent.

To the prince and all others

His sisters and brothers,
As low in condition as high-born ;

We drink this and pray,

That shortly they may
See all those that wrong them at Tyborn.

282 OLD ENGLISH

And now here's three howles

To all gallant souls,
That for the king did, and will venture ;

May they flourish, when those

Who are his and their foes
Are dam'd and ram'd down to the center.

A last let a glasse

To our undoers passe,
Attended with two or three curses ;

May plagues sent from hell

Stuff their bodies as well
As cavaliers coyn doth their purses."

The object of the following spirited song is to turn to
ridicule the abhorrence in which the fanatical part of their
enemies professed to hold games and festivals.

" A Carol.
Preethy, Roundhead, now forbear,

Come not near,
Christmas here doth domineer.
Here are sports, and songs, and musick,

Which perhaps,
Which perhaps, sir, may make you sick.

'Twil perplex your holy eye

To espy
When we dance, though modestly.
And you'l hence be more offended ;

With the light,
With the light all sport is ended.

And to grieve your godly ear,

Songs I fear
Of our Saviour's birth you'l hear.
Here his mother you'l find sainted,

And yourselves,
And yourselves called divels painted.

POLITICAL SONGS. 283

If you love your nose, 0 fie,

Come not nigh,
All the house doth smel of pye.
Nor would you the scent eschew, sir,

Half so fain.
Half so fain as we would you, sir.

For the taste, indeed, here's great

Store of meat,
But your saintship may not eat ;
For the meat which we provide all

Offered is,
Offered is unto this idol.

Venture then no farther on,

Get thee gone :
But least thou shouldst go alone,
Take for company, I prethee,

From this place,
From this place all sorrow with thee."

" Alexander Brome," says Winstanley, " addicted himself
to a jovial strain in the ravishing delights of poetry ; being
the ingenious author of most of those songs, which on the
royalists' account came forth during the time of the rump,
and Oliver's usurpation, and plaid to by the sprightly
violin." Of this same person Izaak Walton has given a
favorable character in " an humble eglog " prefixed to
his collection of poems, which was first published in 1660.
The following three stanzas are from a song of his made

" Upon the Cavaliers departing out of London.

Now fare thee well, London,
Thou next must be undone,

'Cause thou hast undone us before ;

284 OLD ENGLISH

This cause and this tyrant
Had ne'er plaid this high rant,
Were 't not for thy argent and or.

Now we must desert thee,
With the lines that hegirt thee,

And the red-coated saints domineer,
Who with liberty fool thee,
While a monster doth rule thee ,

And thou feel'st what before thou did'st fear.

But this is our glory
In this wretched story,

Calamities fall on the best ;
And those that destroy us
Do better employ us,

To sing till they are supprest."

The last stanza exhibits to us what often appears in these
songs, that spirit, unbroken under the pressure of hard-
ships and misfortunes which characterized many of the un-
fortunate cavaliers. Here is another example, by the same
author, written in 1648.

" Come let us be merry,
Drink claret and sherry,
And cast away care and sorrow ;
He's a fool that takes thought for tomorrow.
Why should we be droopers,
To save it for troopers ?
Let's spend our own,
And when all is gone,
That they can have none,
Then the Roundheads and Cavies agree.

Then fall to your drinking,

And leave off this shrinking ;
Let Square-heads and Round-heads go quarrel ;
We have no other foe but the barrel ;

POLITICAL SONGS. 285

These cares and disasters
Shall ne'er be our masters ;
English and Scot
Do both love a pot,
Though they say they do not,
Here the Roundheads and Cavies agree.

A man that is armed

With liquor, is charmed,
And proof against strength and cunning ;
He scorns the base humour of running.

Our brains are the quicker,

When season'd with liquor ;

Let's drink and sing,

Here's a health to our king,

And I wish in this thing,
Both the Roundheads and Cavies agree."

The opposite party were in general more given to
praying than song-writing, and we have here, therefore,
less room for collecting. An old song tells us —
" And if they write in meeter,

They think there's nothing sweeter,
Unless it be old Tom Sternhold."

However, it does appear that there were some among them
who could even wield the song as a weapon in political
warfare. "We may mention Dr. Robert Wild — a name, by
the way, which is not to be found in Ellis — " who was
one," says Winstanley, "and not of the meanest of the
poetical cassock, being in some sort a kind of an anti-
Cleaveland, writing as high and standing up as stifly for
the Presbyterians, as ever Cleaveland did against them."
His poems were " for the most part of a lepid and face-
tious nature, reflecting on others, who as sharply retorted
upon him ; for," as Winstanley sagaciously observes, " he
that throwes stones at another, 'tis ten to one but is hit
with a stone himself." It is probable that most of Wild's

286 OLD ENGLISH

earlier political poems are omitted in the printed collection
which came out after the restoration, when he had himself
written a panegyric on Monk. The quaint author we have
just quoted, speaking of Richard Head, the author of the
English Rogue, says that, " amongst others, he had a great
fancy in bandying against Dr. Wild (although I must con-
fess therein overmatcht), yet he fell upon him tooth and
nail." It is very probable, however, that the cavalier
poets thought their opponents were in want of assistance
— at least they most compassionately volunteered it, as
may be seen from the following stanzas, out of many
others, written for them in 1 643, by that zealous royalist,
Alexander Brome.

" 77ie saints' encouragement.
Fight on, brave soldiers, for the cause,

Fear not the caveliers ;
Their threatnings are as senseless as

Our jealousies and fears.
Tis you must perfect this great work,

And all malignants slay,
You must bring back the king again

The clean contrary way.

'Tis for religion that you fight,

And for the kingdom's good,
By robbing churches, plundering men,

And shedding guiltless blood.
Down with the orthodoxal train,

All loyal subjects slay ;
When these are gone, we shall be blest,

The clean contrary way.

'Tis to preserve his majesty,

That we against him fight,
Nor are we ever beaten back,

Because our cause is right ;

POLITICAL SONGS. 287

If any make a scruple on't,

Our declarations say,
Who fight for us fight for the king,

The clean contrary way."

The following are stanzas out of a song in the person
of Anarchus, in a dramatic poem by the celebrated Francis
Quarles,

" Know then, my brethren, heav'n is clear,
And all the clouds are gone ;
The righteous now shall flourish, and

Good days are coming on :
Come then, my brethren, and be glad,

And eke rejoice with me ;
Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down,
And hey ! then up go we !

We'll break the windows which the whore

Of Babylon hath painted,
And when the popish saints are down,

Then Barrow shall be sainted :
There's neither cross, nor crucifix,

Shall stand for men to see ;
Rome's trash and trumperies shall go down,

And hey ! then up go we !" &c.

Even during these stormy times, we may pick up a few
songs which do not partake of their violence. We may
instance the following, that exhibits a little of the same
spirit of resignation, though under different circumstances,
which is so conspicuous in the political songs of the
cavaliers :

" When first my free heart was surpriz'd by desire,
So soft was the wound, and so gentle the fire,
My sighes were so sweet, and so plesant the smart,
I pitty'd the slave who had ne'er lost his heart ;
He thinks himself happy, and free, but alass !
He is far from that heaven which lovers possess.

288 OLD ENGLISH

In nature was nothing that I could compare
With the beauty of Phillis, I thought her so faire ;
A wit so divine all her sayings did fill,
A goddess she seem'd ; and I worship'd her still
With a zeal more inflam'd, and a passion more true,
Than a martyr in flames for religion can shew.

With awful respect while I lov'd and admir'd,
But fear'd to attempt what so much I desir'd,
How soon were my hopes and my heaven destroy'd,
A shepherd more daring fell on and enjoy'd :
Yet, in spite of ill fate, and the pains I endure,
I will finde a new Phillis to give me my cure."

The following has a little of the burlesque in it :

" Maid.
Charon, Charon, come away,
Bring forth thy boat and oare ;
That I poore maid may make no stay,
But rowe me to some shore.

Charon.
Who calls on Charon in such hast,
As if they suffer'd paine :
I carry none but pure and chast,
Such as true love hath slaine.

Maid.
Oh ! carry me within thy boat,
I'le tell thee a true love's tale :
With sighs so deep, when as we float,
Shall serve us for a gale.

Charon.
I come, I come, sweet soul, I come,
Thy beautie. does so charm me ;
Come in my boat, take there a roome,
Nor wind nor raine shall harm thee.

POLITICAL SONGS. 289

Maid.
And now I am within thy boat,
I'le sing the a true love song :
My eyes shall shed a sea of waves,
To float our boat along."

The first whisper of the restoration was to the cavaliers
the signal for universal rejoicing. It was then that Charles
Cotton, perhaps from his fishing-house on the banks of his
favourite Dove, addressed to his friend Alexander Brome
the congratulatory ode beginning with —

" Now let us drink, and with our nimble feet
The floor in graceful measures beat,
Never so fit a time for harmless mirth
Upon the sea-girt spot of earth."

And Brome responded with an equally joyous catch :
" Let's leave off our labour, and now let's go play ;
For this is our time to be jolly ;
Our plagues and our plaguers are both fled away ;
To nourish our griefs is but folly.
He that won't drink and sing
Is a traitor to 's king ;
And so he 's that does not look twenty years younger," &c.

A short space of time, however, saw themselves disap-
pointed and their rejoicings damped; and the same poet
sings very soon after in this altered strain :

" The poor cavaliers thought all was their own,
And now was their time to sway ;
But friends they have few, and money they've none,

And so they mistook their way.
When they seek for preferments, the rebels do rout 'urn,
And having no money they must go without 'um,
The courtiers do carry such stomachs about 'um,
They speak no English but " Pay."
VOL. II. 13

290 OLD ENGLISH POLITICAL SONGS.

And those very rebels that hated the king,

And no such office allow
By the help of their boldness, and one other thing,

Are brought to the king to bow :
And there both pardons and honours they have,
With which they think they're secure and brave ;
But the title of knight, on the back of a knave,

Is like saddle upon a sow."

Their spirits, however, bore up against all their crosses,
and we soon hear them again singing —

" Give us musick with wine,

And we'll never repine
At prosperous knaves, but defy 'em ;

These politick sots

Are still weaving of plots,
So fine, that at last they fall by 'em.

We laugh, and we drink,

And on business ne'er think,
Our voices and hautboys still sounding ;

While we dance, play, and sing,

We've the world in a string,
And our pleasure is ever abounding.

Your sober dull knave,

For wise is but grave,
Tis craft, and not wisdom, employs him.

We nothing design,

But good music and wine,
And blessed is he that enjoys them."

ESSAY XX.

ON THE SCOTTISH POET DUNBAR.

OETRY in England declined rapidly after
the time of Chaucer ; but the muse seems
to have taken refuge in Scotland, where
during a period of more than a century
appeared several writers of great merit,
among whom were even kings and princes. The medieval
literature of Scotland was a bare imitation of that of
England, which travelled gradually to the North, and in
earlier times was merely transferred to the corrupt dialect
of that part of the island. One of the earliest of the Scot-
tish poets whose writings were characterized by originality
of genius, was king James I, who was a prisoner in Eng-
land from 1405 to 1425, and whose style appears to have
been founded on that of Chaucer. Dunbar followed in the
same school, after whom came Kennedy, Gawin Douglas,
Sir David Lindsay, king James V, Maitland, Scott, and a
number of others of less merit, and many whose pro-
ductions were not worthy to be remembered. Old Time,
the purifier and cleanser-out of all things, has long
swept from the garner of Fame much of the chaff of
former harvests. But constant sweeping has too often
carried away with the chaff part of the grain also, causing

292 THE POET DUNBAR.

thereby irreparable diminution of those stores which should
belong to our heritage. Of the losses which we have thus
sustained, no one is more to be lamented than the works
of the Scottish poet, William Dunbar : and we owe many
thanks to David Laing, for the collection he has given us of
what remains of a poet, whose tales may be safely put in
the same class with those of Chaucer and Prior, whose
odes and songs are not unworthy to stand beside those of
Horace, and whose burlesque is as glorious as that of
Aristophanes himself.* Dunbar was a first-rate poet ; but
the circumstance of his having written in the broad Doric
dialect of the North, has caused him, like others of his
countrymen, to be neglected by us people of the South,
whose tongue happens to be formed on the pure West
Saxon in which Alfred wrote. We doubt, however, if this
very broadness of dialect, though it is a hinderance to his
popularity, be not itself a beauty in the kind of subjects
in which, to judge by his remains, our Scottish poet has
the greatest excellence. But how came such a poet to be
neglected in his own country, many of our readers will
naturally ask ? The history of that country will readily
furnish us with an answer. The age during which poetry
nourished in Scotland was followed by a long period of
barbarism, when taste and genius were drowned, for a time
at least, amid the furious waves of party discord and fana-
tical violence. Before they were calmed, the works of her
poets had been destroyed, or the few remnants lay con-
cealed in scattered leaves of manuscript, which had found

* The Poems of William Dunbar, now first collected. With Notes
and a Memoir of his Life, by David Laing, 2 vols. 8vo. Edinburgh,
1834,

THE POET DUNBAR. 2'J3

their way into some private library. Two such manu-
scripts, one at Edinburgh, the other at Cambridge, contain
nearly all that remains of Dunbar.

Dunbar, like Homer, wandered under many a clime, and
visited many towns and nourishing cities, without leaving
anywhere a testimonial of his presence ; his story is not
much less obscure than that of the Bard of Chios. He
resembles in some measure, both in the allusion he makes
to his own fortunes, and in several points of his personal
character, the French poet of the thirteenth century,
Rutebeuf. He was born, as Mr. Laing tells us, about the
middle of the fifteenth century ; he seems from an early
period of his life to have been destined for the church,
and, with that prospect, he was educated at the university
of St. Andrew. Afterwards, he assumed the habit of the
Franciscan friars, or mendicants, and in this garb travelled
over most of the western countries of Europe. But the
life of a friar was not congenial to Dunbar's disposition,
for he seems to have loved the gaiety of a court rather than
the wanderings of a mendicant, the name of a " makkar"
(maker), a term synonymous in every respect with the
Greek word poet (7rotrjr>)s), teaching " Venus lawis," as he
has it, to that of an itinerant preacher, and accordingly he
laid aside his friar's habit " probably at no very advanced
period of his life." Nearly all the notices we have left of
the events or circumstances of the poet's history, are the
allusions to them contained in his poems : in one of them
he tells how, in after times, a fiend in the likeness of
St. Francis appeared to him in a dream, and desired him
to reassume his friar's weeds, and to renounce the world.
But Dunbar, —

294 THE POET DUNBAR.

" By him, and by his habit both y-scared,
Like to a man that with a ghost was marred,"

very civilly declined the proposal, alleging that —

" If ever my fortune was to be a frere,
The date thereof is past full many a year ;
For within every lusty town and place
Of all England, from Berwick to Calace,
I oft have in thy habit made good cheer."

At the same time he hints that he would with all willing-
ness accept the robes of a bishop, and that in this garb he
should travel to Heaven with great satisfaction : —

" In haly legendis haif I hard allevin,
Ma Sanctis of bischeppis, nor freiris, be sic sevin ;

Off full few freiris that has bene Sanctis, I reid ;

Quhairfoir ga bring to me ane bischoppis weid,
Gife evir thow wald my saule yeid unto hevin."

We give this passage in its original Doric, because we
are going to quote a paraphrase of it in Latin, from the
elegant pen of George Buchanan, whose somnium is an
imitation of this poem of Dunbar. The terseness and
point of the original is, perhaps, rather dissipated in the
copy.

" Mentior, aut peragra saxo fundata vetusto

Delubra, et titulos per simulacra lege,
Multus honoratis fulgebit episcopus aris,

Rara cucullato sternitur ara gregi.
Atque inter monachos erit haec rarissima vestis :

Induat hanc, si quis gaudeat esse miser.

THE POET DUNBAR. 295

Quod si tanta mea? tangit te cura salutis,
Vis mihi, vis animse consuluisse meae ?

Quilibet hac alius mendicet veste superbus :
At mihi da mitram, purpureamque togam."

A bishopric, indeed, appears to have been the grand
object of Dunbar's ambition in his younger days. But,
though he had powerful and princely patrons at court, yet
so much more acceptable were his services there as a poet
than as a priest, that in his manhood no petitions or ex-
postulations of Dunbar himself, no influence of his friends,
could prevail on the king to dispense with his company in
that character, or to accede to his earnest solicitations for
a benefice. To stop his complaints for a time, the king
granted him a pension, to be continued cc until he be pro-
moted by our sovereign lord to a benefice," which pension
was from time to time increased, as his petitions for prefer-
ment were renewed, till we find it raised to the sum of
eighty pounds annually, " until he be promoted to a bene-
fice of ^6100 or above," a good living no doubt at that
time. His hopes, however, were not realized, and his so-
licitations did not cease ; and " it is somewhat amusing to
consider with what ingenuity and address he varies his pe-
titions. In general, he seems to found his chief claims for
preferment upon former services which he had rendered,
his youth having been spent in the king's employment,
while he intimates that his wants would be easily satisfied.
But, whether in the form of a satirical or of a pathetic ap-
peal to the king, or simply as a congratulation on the new
year, or whether under some humorous personation he
brought forward his request, still the burden of Dunbar's
song was a benefice !" It happens that many of his

296 THE POET DUNBAR.

smaller pieces which remain to us, were written with this
object. At a time when many benefices were vacant, and
he saw them all bestowed away, and himself passed over,
he urgently expostulated to the king, representing to him
the injustice of filling some till they burst, whilst others
equally deserving, are left empty.

" Sire, at this feast of benefice,
Think that small parts make great service,

And equal distribution

Makes them content who have reason,
And who have none are pleased nowise.

Sire, whether it is almes more

To give him drink that thirsteth sore ;

Or fill a full man till he burst ;

And let his fellow die for thirst,
Who wine to drink as worthy were ?

It is no glad collatiion,

Where one makes merry, another looks down ;

One thirsty, another plays ' cup out :'

Let once the cup go round about,
And win the company's benison."

At another time he touches the subject in a more playful
mood, and as the queen was his especial friend, and seems
to have earnestly wished that his petition might be granted,
he prays that the king may be "John Thomson's man," a
term then applied to a person whose wife, as the saying is
now, " wore the breeches."

" Sire, for your grace both night and day,
Right heartily on my knees I pray,
With all devotion that I can,

God give, ye were John Thompson's man !

THE POET DUNBAR. 297

For were it so, then well were me,
Un-beneficed I should not be ;
My hard fortune were ended than ;

God give, ye were John Thomson's man !

Then would some ruth within you rest,
For sake of her, fairest and best
In Britain, since her time began ;

God give, ye were John Thomson's man !

For it might hurt in no degree,
That one, so fair and good as shee,
Through her virtue such worship wan,
As you to make John Thomson's man !

I would give all that ever I have
On that condition, so God me save,
That ye had vowed to the swan,

One year to be John Thomson's man.

The mercy of that sweet meek Rose*
Would soften you, Thistle, I suppose,
Whose pricks through me so ruthless ran ;
God give, ye were John Thomson's man !

My advocate, both fair and sweet,
The whole rejoicing of my sp'rite,
Would speed well in my errands than ;
If ye were once John Thomson's man.

Ever, when I think you hard or dure,
Or merciless in my succour,
Then pray I God and sweet Saint Ann,
Give that ye were John Thomson's man."

* The Rose and the Thistle are alluded to as the well-known
emblems of England (the Queen being daughter of Henry VII,) and
of Scotland,

298 THE POET DUNBAR.

Still Dunbar remained at court, where he appears all
along to have been a great favourite, and he seems to have
entered into all its gaieties. In his account of the " dance
in the queen's chamber," he himself makes not the least
conspicuous figure in the picture : —

" Then came in Dunbar the makkar,
On all the floor there was none frakkar,
And there he danced the Dirrye-danton ;
He hopped liked a pillie wanton,

For love of Musgrave, men tell me ;
He tript, until he lost his panton,

A merrier dance might no man see."*

In 1513, the king and his nobility fell at Flodden ; and
after this event nothing is known of Dunbar, though it
seems probable that he soon after received from the queen,
now regent of the kingdom, the object of his desires, pre-
ferment in the church. The latest of his poems which is
extant, is assigned to the year 1517, and he is supposed to
have died about three years after.

It is not possible to modernize the language of Dunbar's
poems in the manner we have modernized most of our ex-
tracts, without losing much of their spirit and beauty. We
are obliged to retain obsolete phraseology, to substitute for
obsolete words, new ones, which do not well supply their
places, and we have sometimes to add a word to fill out the
rhythm of the line. The rhymes, too, which in Dunbar are
always perfect, sometimes suffer in the transformation.

It is to be lamented that so few of Dunbar's larger
poems have come down to us. The two tales of "The

* Frakkar, more nimble — panton, slipper.

THE POET DUNBAR. 299

Friars of Berwick," and " The Two Married Women and
the Widow/' are perfect in their kind, and either of them
will fully repay the labour — no great labour, indeed, for he
is not much more obsolete than Spenser — of making our-
selves familiar with his language. His two allegorical
poems, the "Thistle and the Rose," written to celebrate
the Scottish king's nuptials with the English princess, and
the " Golden Targe," have often been the subjects of de-
served admiration. We are not ourselves partial to this
old allegorical school of poetry ; but from the comparative
shortness of these poems, the allegory is less tiresome, and
their rich luxuriance of description cannot fail to make
them favourites. We have another short poem by Dunbar,
somewhat in the style of the two last mentioned, " The
Merle and the Nightingale." The poet feigns that he
hears these two birds, in the month of May, disputing on
the subject of love.

" Iu May, as that Aurora did up-spring,

With cristall ene chasing the cluddis sable,
I hard a Merle, with mirry notis, sing

A sang of love, with voce rycht comfortable,

Agane the orient bemis amiable,
Upone a blissful brenche of lawryr grene ;

This wes hir sentens sueit and delectable,
1 A lusty lyfe in Luvis service bene.'

Under this brench ran doun a revir bricht,

Of balmy liquor, cristallyne of hew,
Agane the hevinly aisure skyis licht ;

Quhair did, upone the tothir syd, persew

A Nychtingaill, with suggurit notis new,
Quhois angell fedderis as the pacok schone ;

This wes hir song, and of a sentens trew,
' All Luve is lost hot upone God allone. '

300 THE POET DUNBAR.

With notis glaid, and glorious armony,

This joyfull Merle so salust scho the day,
Quhill rong the woddis of hir melody,

Saying, ' Awaik, ye luvaris of this May ;

Lo ! fresche Flora hes flurest every spray,
As Nature hes hir taucht, the noble quene,

The feild bene clothit in a new array ;
A lusty lyfe in Luvis service bene.'

Nevir suetar noys wes hard with levand man

Na maid this mirry gentill Nychtingaill,
Hir sound went with the rever as it ran

Out throw the fresche and flureist lusty vaill ;

' 0 Merle ! ' quoth scho, ' 0 fule ! stynt of thy taill,
For in thy song gud sentens is thair none,

For both is tynt, the tyme and the travaill,
Of even7 Luve hot upone God allone.' "

The Merle, for a time, opposes vigorously the doctrine
of her rival songstress, alleging, among other reasons, the
following, which is very gracefully expressed, —

" 0 Nichtingaill ! it wer a story nyce

That luve suld nocht depend on cherite ;
And, gife that vertew contrair be to vyce,

Than luve mon be a vertew, as thinkis me ;

For ay to luve envy mone contrair be :
God bad eik luve thy nichtbour fro the splene,

And quho than ladeis suetar nychtbouris be ?
A lusty lyfe in Luvis service bene."

She, in the end, however, acknowledges herself beaten,
and joins with the nightingale in singing—

" All Luve is lost bot upone God allone."

THE POET DUNBAR. 301

Dunbar's smaller poems, with the exception of a few
moral and religious pieces, are mostly such as were sug-
gested by the times and people among whom he lived.
But in elegance and wit, and epigrammatic point, they
stand high above the common standard of such produc-
tions. The commendation he bestows on the subject of his
esteem, or the sarcasms and abuse which he heaps on the
objects of his dislike, are equally original and pointed.
Among the foremost of the objects of his aversion were
the Highlanders. In one of the most magnificent of
Dunbar's works, "The Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins,"
a poem which abounds in descriptions such as have been
realised only by the pencil and graver of Callot, after
noticing the want of musicians, for no " gle-men " were
in Hell, " except a menstrall that slew a man," the devil
signifies his desire for a Highland " padyane," as the most
proper music for the occasion—

" Then cried Mahoun for a Highland padyane :
When ran a fiend to fetch Macfadyane.

Far northward in a nook ;
By he the correnoch had made shout,
Erse men so gathered him about,
In Hell great room they took.

These termagants, with tag and tatter,
Full lowd in Erse began to clatter,

And croak like raven and rook.
The devil so deafen'd was with their yell,
That in the deepest pot of Hell

He smothered them with smoke."

In explanation of the last line but one of this passage,
it is only needful to observe, that, according to the popular

302 THE POET DUNBAR.

notion of that time, the souls below were generally pun-
ished in pots or cauldrons.

Tailors and souters (or shoemakers) had also provoked
his displeasure, and he takes ample vengeance on them in
his satirical account of "The justs between the Tailor and
Souter," held, like the last-mentioned scene, in the infer-
nal domains. The " Amends to the Tailors and Souters,"
possesses much elegant point. He tells them that he has
dreamt, in a moment of inspiration, that an angel appeared
to him, declaring aloud their praise, and proclaiming their
merits before God.

" The cause to you is not un-ken'd,
That God's mis-makes ye do amend,
By craft and great agility :
Tailors and souters, blest are ye.

Souters, with shoes well made and meet,
Ye mend the faults of ill-made feet,

"Wherefore to heaven your souls will flie :

Tailors and souters blest are ye,

* * * *

And tailors, too, with well-made clothes,
Can mend the worst-made man that goes,

And make him seemly for to see :

Tailors and souters, blest are ye.

Though God make a mis-fashioned man,
Ye can him all shape new again.

And fashion him better by ' sic thre:'

Tailors and souters, blest are ye.

* * * *

Of God great kindness may ye claim,
Who help his people from crook and lame,

Supporting faults with your supplie :

Tailors and souters, blest are ye.

THE POET DUNBAR. 303

On earth ye show such miracles here,
In heaven ye shall be saints full clear,

Though ye be knaves in this countrie :

Tailors and souters, blest are ye."

Another especial object of Dunbar's satire, was "Mr.
Andro Kennedy," "an idle dissolute scholar," whose
testament commences thus —

" I maister Andro Kennedy,
Curro quando sum vocatus,
Begotten by some incubi,

Or by some friar infatuatus ;
In faith I cannot tell read'ly,

Unde aut ubi fid natus,
But in truth I know truly,

Quod sum diabolus incarnatus.

* * * *

Nunc condo testamentummeum,
I leave my soul for evermare,
Per omnijjotentem Deum,

Unto my lordes wine-cellar.

* * * *

Quia in cellario cum cervisia

I'd rather lye both early and late,
Nudus solus in camisia,

Than in my lordes bed of state.
A barrel bung aye at me bosom,

Of worldes goods I had na mare ;
Et corpus meum ebriosum

I leave unto the town of Air ;
In a grain mixen for ever and aye,

Ut ibi sepeliri queam,
Where drink and grain may every day

Be casten super faciem meam."

304 THE POET DUNBAR.

The ceremonies at his interment are to be equally cha-
racteristic—

" In die mece sepultures,

I will none have but our own gang,
Et duos rusticos de rure

Bearing a barrel on a stang ;
Drinking and playing ' cup out,' even

Sicut egomet solebam ;
Singing and shouting with high Steven,

Potum meum cum fletu miscebam.
I will no priests for me to sing

' Dies ilia, dies irce ; '
Nor yet the bells for me to ring ;

Sicut semper solet fieri ;
But a bag-pipe to play a spring,

Et unum ale-wosp ante me ;
Instead of banners, for to bring

l^uatuor lagenas cervisice ;
Within the grave to set such thing

In modum cruris juxta me,
To drive the fiends, then boldly sing,

De terra plasmas ti me."

Mr. Laing observes on this last poem : —
" The late Octavius Gilchrist, in his remarks on maca-
ronic poetry (Brydges' Censura Literaria, vol. in. p. 359),
in mentioning Theophilus Folengo of Mantua, known best
under his assumed name of Merlinus Coccaius, as the sup-
posed inventor of that kind of verse, in his ' Opus Maca-
ronicum,' first published in 1517, says, 'he was preceded
by the laureat Skelton, whose works were printed in 1512,
who was himself anticipated by the great genius of Scot-
land, Dunbar, in his ' Testament of Andro Kennedy,' and
the last must be considered as the reviver or introducer of

THE POET DUNBAR. 305

macaronic or burlesque poetry. The opinion, however,
is not quite correct, as the mixture either of Latin and
English words, or in alternate lines, as used by Skelton and
Dunbar, does not constitute what is called macaronic verse,
the peculiarity of which consists in the use of Latin words,
and of vernacular words with Latin terminations, usually
in hexameter verse. One of the earliest and most cele-
brated pieces of the kind which is known in this country,
is Drummond of Hawthornden's Polemo-Middinia."

Mr. Laing is doubtlessly right in saying that Dunbar's
poem is not macaronic verses. How Gilchrist could think
that this kind of writing, alternate lines of Latin and
English, was not older than Dunbar, we cannot conceive.
We might make a collection of some twenty or thirty songs
in the same style, from the twelfth century to Dunbar's
time ; and such a song in Latin and old High Dutch, on an
event of the tenth century, preserved in a MS. of the
middle of the eleventh century, which begins

" Nunc almus assis filius
thero euuigero thiernum
Benignus fautor mihi
thaz ig iz cosan muozi,"

has been printed more than once. As, however, Mr. Laing
did not seem to be aware that macaronic poetry is of old
date in England, we will, in conclusion, print a short ma-
caronic poem from a MS. of the reign of Henry VI, (at
Cambridge), describing quaintly the characteristic com-
modities of most of our English cities. The language is in
parts obscure : —

VOL. II. 14

306 THE POET DUNBAR.

Lwtulon.
Haec sunt Lundonis, pira, pomaque, regia thronus,
Chepp stupha, coklana, dolum, leo, verbaque vana,
Lancea cum scutis : haec sunt staura cuntutis.

Eborac.
Capituluiu, kekus, purcus, fimus Eboracus,
Stal, nel, lamprones, kelc et melc, salt, salamones,
Ratus cum petys : haec sunt staura cuntetis.

Lincoln.
Haec sunt Lincolnae, bow, bolt, et bellia bolnae,
Ac monstrum scala, rosa bryghta, nobilis ala,
Et bubulus flatus : haec sunt staura cuntatis.

Norwicus.
Haec sunt Norwicus, panis ordeus, halpenypykys,
Clausus porticus, domus Habrahae, dyrt quoque vicus,
Flynt valles, rede thek : cuntatis optima sunt haec.

Coventr.
Contreye mirum sopanedula, tractaque wirum,
Et carmen notum, nova stipula, pedula totum,
Cardones mille : haec sunt insignia villae.

Brystoll.
Haec sunt Brystollys, bladelys, do3elys quoque bollys,
Burges, negones, karinae, clocheriaque, chevones,
Webbys cum rotis : haec sunt staura cuntotis.

Cantuar.
Haec sunt Cantorum, juga, dogmata, bal baculorum,
Et princeps tumba, bel, brachia, fulsaque plumba,
Et syserem potus : haec sunt staura cuntotis.

THE END.

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" A literary curiosity, and one both welcome and serviceable to the lover of black-letter
lore. Though the obsoleteness of the style may occasion sad stumbling to a modern
reader, yet the class to which it rightly belongs will value it accordingly ; both because
it is curious in its details, and possesses philological importance. To the general
reader it presents one feature of interest, viz. the reference to Wayland Smith, whom
Sir W. Scott has invested with so much interest." — Metropolitan Magazine.

Three Early English Metrical Romances, (the Anturs of

Arthur at the Tarnewathelan ; Sir Armadace ; and the Avowing of King Arthur, Sir
Gawan, Sir Kaye, and Sir Bawdewyn of Bretan,) with Glossary, &c. By J ROBSON.
Small 4to, cloth, 6s. (Camden Soc.)

The Thornton Romances. The Early English Metrical

Romances of Perceval, Isumbras, Eglamour, and Degrevant, selected from MSS. at
Lincoln and Cambridge. Ey J. O. HALLIWELL. Small 4to, pp. 380, cloth, 10*.

(Camden Soc.)

Romance of the Emperor Octavian, now first published

from MSS, at Lincoln and Cambridge, edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. Post 8vo,
2s. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

Nugse Poeticse; Select Pieces of Old English Popular Poetry,

illustrating the Manners and Arts of the XVth Century. Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL.

Post 8vo. Only KJO copies printed, cloth, 5s. *

Contents.-— Colyn Blowbol's Testament ; the Debate of the Carpenter's Tools; the Merchant
and his Son; the Maid and the Magpie; Elegy on Lobe, Henry VHIth's Fool ; Romance of
Robert of Sicily, and five other curious pieces of the same kind.

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 5

The "Boke of Curtasye;" an English Poem illustrative of

the Domestic Manners of our forefathers. Edited, from a MS. of the fifteenth cen-
tury in the British Museum, by J. O. HALLI WELL. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d. (Percy Soc.(

The Nursery Rhymes of England, collected chiefly from

Oral Tradition. Edited by J. O. HALLI WELL. The Fourth Edition, enlarged,
with 38 Designs by W. B. SCOTT, Director of the Softool of Design, Newcastle-on-Tyne.
12mo, in very rich illuminated cloth, gilt leaves, is. 6d. ^

" Illustrations J And here they are; clever pictures, which the three-year olds under-
stand before their A, B, C, and which the fifty-three year olds like almost as well as
the threes."— Literary Gazette.

•« We are persuaded that the very rudest of these jingles, tales, and rhymes, possess a
strong imagination-nourishing power; and that in infancy and early childhood a
sprinkling of ancient nursery lore is worth whole cartloads of the wise saws and
modern instances which are now as duly and carefully concocted by experienced
literateurs, into instructive tales for the spelling public, as are works of entertain-
ment for the reading public. The work is worthy of the attention of the popular
antiquary." — Tait's Mag.

The public are cautioned against other works with imitative titles, which have been pub-
lished since the second edition of the above, and which are mostly pirated from it.
Mr. Halliwell's is the largest collection of these odd ditties ever formed, with explana-
tory notes, &c. &c.

An Essay on the Archaeology of our Popular Phrases

and Nursery Rhymes. By H. B. KER. 2 vols. 12mo, new cloth, 4s. (pub. at 12*.) %
A work which has met with great abuse among the reviewers, but those who are fond of
philological pursuits will read it now it is to be had at so very moderate a price, and it
really contains a good deal of gossiping matter. The author's attempt is to explain
everything from the Dutch, which he believes was the same language as the Anglo-Saxon.

Poems of John Audelay, a Specimen of the Shropshire Dia-
lect in the XVth Century. Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. Post 8vo, 3$. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

A Paraphrase on the Seven Penitential Psalms, in Eng-
lish Verse, by THOMAS BRAMPTON, 1414, together with the Psalter of St. Bernard.
Edited by W. H. BLACK. Post 8vo, 4*. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

Apology for Lollard Doctrines, attributed to Wicliffe. Now

first printed, and edited by Dr. J. H. TODD. Small 4to, pp. 269, cloth, 7s. 6d.
(Camden Soc.)

Specimens of Old Christmas Carols. Chiefly taken from

MSS. sources. Edited by T. WRIGHT. Post8vo, 3s. (Percy Soc.)

Cock Lorrell's Bote, a Satyrical Poem, from an unique copy

printed by WYNKYN de WORDE. Edited by E. F. RIMBAULT. Post 8vo,2s.

The Payne and Sorowe of evyll Maryage. From Hody

believed to be unique, printed by Wynkyn de Worde ; with an Introduction regarding
other works of the same class, and from the same press. By J. p. COLLIER Post

(Percy Soc.)

Kara Mathematica; or a Collection of Treatises on the Mathe-

Txl1ZvAUhiT Ci>nnec1te^w.ith them* *™ ^cient inedited MSS. By J. O.

HALLIWELL. 8vo, Second Edition, cloth, 3s. 6d. i£

Contents: Johannis de Sacro-Bosco Tractatus de ArtpNnmpr,^,-. tv* *u a j .
England in the Fifteenth Century for taking the Altitude "of 'a ^StTepTe" ^reaSon tE n"
merat.on of Algorism; Treatise on Glasses for Optical Purposes wZ 1 I

Robynsde Cometis Commentaria ; Two Tables showing tlT^e^^^'J^^
Bridge, and the Duration of Moonlight, from a MS. of the Thirteenth Centur on the it
suration of Heights and Distances; Alexandri de Villa Dei rlrm™ h a •' n I

to a Calendar or Almanack for 1430 • Johanni Norfolk ^n aZ A1S°™™ i Preface

Notes on Early Almanacs, by the Editor, &c&c ^ Pr0^ressionis summula'

6 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Kyng Johan, a Play, by JOHN BALE, {now first printed.)

Edited by J. P. COLLIER. Small 4to, cloth, 9s. (Camden Soc.)

Thirteen Psalms, and the First Chapter of Ecclesiastes, trans-
lated into English Verse by JOHN CROKE, temp. Henry VIII, with Documents rela-
tive to the Croke Family. Edited by Dr. BLISS. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

The Harmony of Birds, a Poem, from the only known copy

printed in the middle of the sixteenth Century, with Introduction, by J. P. COLLIER.
Post 8vo, 2s. (Percy Soc.)

Hawes' (Stephen) Pastime of Pleasure, an Allegorical

Poem, reprinted from the edition of 1555, post 8vo, 6s. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

One of the most remarkable productions between the age of Lydgate and that of Wyatt
and Surrey, and one of the links in the History of English Poetry. The old editions
are of excessive rarity.

Five Poetical Tracts of the Sixteenth Century, from

unique copies, viz. " The Doctrynall of Good Servauntes." " The Boke of Mayd
Emlyn." " The New Notbroune Mayd." " A Complaint of a Dolorous Lover upon
Sugred Wordes and Fayned Countenance." And «« Loves Leprosie." Edited by E. F.
RIMBAULT. Post 8vo, 3s. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

Kind-Hart's Dream. Containing Five Apparitions, with their

Invectives against abuses raigning. By HENRY CHETTLE. Containing Notices of
Shakspeare, Nash, &c. A curious picture of the Manners and Customs of the times.
With a Life of the Author. Edited by E. F. RIMBAULT. Post 8vo, 4s. (Percy Soc.)

The Pleasant and Sweet History of Patient Grissell.

In prose and verse. With an Introduction concerning the origin of the story, and its
application in various countries. Edited by J. P. COLLIER. Post8vo, 3s. (Percy Soc.)

Patient Grisel. A Comedy by DEKKER, CHETTLE, and

HAUGHTON, with Introduction by J. P. COLLIER. 8vo, cloth, 5s. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Historicall Expostulation against the beastlye Abusers

both of Chyrurgerie and Physyke in oure Time. By JOHN HALLE, (with portrait.)
1565. Edited by T. J. PETTIGREW. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

Northbrooke's Treatise against Dice, Dancing, Plays,

Interludes, and other IDLE PASTIMES, 1577. Edited by J. P. COLLIER. 8vo,

cloth, As. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The School of Abuse, containing a pleasant Invective against

Poets, Pipers, Players, &c. by STEPHEN GOSSON, 1579— HEYWOOD'S (THOMAS)
Apology for Actors, 1612, reprinted in 1 vol. 8vo, cloth, 5s. (Shakespeare Soc.)

MaroCCUS Extaticus ; or Bankes's Bay Horse in a Trance.

anatomizing some abuses and bad tricks of this age (1595). "Edited by E. F. RIMBAULT.
Post 8vo, Is. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

A Debate between Pride and Lowliness ; by FRANCIS

THYNNE. Edited by J. P. COLLIER. 8vo, cloth, 4s. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Sir Thomas More, a Play (about 1590) now first printed.

Edited by the Rev. A. DYCE. 8vo, cloth, As. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The Harmony of the Church, Spiritual Songs and

HOLY HYMNS, by MICHAEL DRAYTON, reprinted from the Edition of 1591, (and
not in his collected works.) Edited by the Rev. A. DYCE. Post 8vo, 3*. (Percy Soc.)

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 7

Pierce Penniless's Supplication to the Devil. By

THOMAS NASH, 1592. With Introduction and Notes by J. P. COLLIER. 8vo, cloth,
4s. (Shakespeare Soc. )

Pleasant History of the Two Angry Women of

Abingdon, with the Humorous Mirth of Dick Cooraes and Nicholas Proverbs. A Play
by HENRY PORTER, 1599. Edited by the Rev. A. DYCE. Post 8vo. 4*. (Percy Soc.)

The Old Play of Timon of Athens, which preceded that of

Shakespeare, now first printed from a MS. Edited by the Rev. A. D VCE. 8vo, cloth,
3s. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.\

The Old Taming of A Shrew, 1 594, upon which Shake-

speare founded his Comedy; to which is added the WOMAN LAPPED INMORREL
SKIN. Edited by T. AMYOT. 8vo, cloth, 4s. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The First Sketches of the Second and Third Parts of

King Henry the Sixth. With Introduction and Notes by J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo
cloth, 5s. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The possessor of this volume will have the two Plays upon which Shakespeare founded his
Second and Third Parts of Henry VI. both printed from unique copies in the Bodleian
—one a small octavo, which cost at Chalmers's sale, £130; the other a very thin small
quarto, which cost £64 several years ago, and would now probably realize more than
twice that sum.

ted from a

, 4*. 6rf.
(Shakespeare Soc.)

Shakespeare's Play of King Henry IV, printec

Contemporary Manuscript, Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, cloth, 4s.

(ShallcepKure HOC.)

True Tragedy of Richard III ; to which is appended the

Latin Play of Richardus Tertius, by Dr. THOMAS LEGGE, both anterior to Shake-
speare's Drama, with Notes by BARRON FIELD. 8vo, cloth, 4s. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The Ghost of Richard III, a Poem, 1614, founded upon

Shakespeare's Historical Play, reprinted from the only known copy Edited bv J P
COLLIER. 8vo, cloth, 3s. ft/. {Shakespeare Soc.')

Heywood's (Thomas) First and Second Parts of King-

Edward IV., with Notes by BARRON FIELD. 8vo, cloth, 4s. 6d. (Shakespeare Sol ?)

Lyrical Poems, selected from Musical Publications, between

1589 and 1600. Edited by J. P. COLLIER. Post 8vo, 3*. 6d. (Percy Soc^

Honour Triumphant; and A Line of Life. Two Tracts

by JOHN FORDE, the Dramatist, recently discovered. Edited by J P COLLIER
8VO'C^'3ff' (Shakespeare Soc)

Six Ballads with Burdens, from a MS. at Cambridge about

the End of Elizabeth's Reign. Edited by J. GOODWIN. Post 8vo, Is. 6d.° (Percy Soc.)

Poetical Miscellanies, from a MS. of the time of James I

Edited byJ.O. HALLIWELL. PoSt8vo,2,. IB *'

A TIT rn • (Percy Soc.)

A Marriage Triumph. Solemnized in an Epithalaminm in

(Percy Soc.)

The Affectionate Shepherd. bv RICHARD rarnffiptd

A.D. 1594. Edited by J. O. tiLLl^^.* ^^1^,]

8 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Poems, by Sir HENRY WOTTON. Edited by theRev. A. DYCE.

post 8vo, i*. 6d. (percy Soc->

Old Ballads of the utmost rarity, now first collected and edited

by J. P. COLLIER. Post 8vo, 5*. (Percy Soc'^

Early Naval Ballads of England, collected and edited by

J. O. HALLIWELL. Post 8vo, is. (Percy Soc.)

Scottish Traditional Verses of Ancient Ballads. Edited

by J. H. DIXON. Post 8vo, 4s. 6d. {Percy Soc.)

Ancient Traditional Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry

of England, collected and edited by J. H. DIXON. Post 8vo, 6a. (Percy Soc.)

The Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie ; of the Walkes

in Powles, 1604, Illustrative of the Manners and Customs of the Time. Edited by
J. O. HALLIWELL. Post 8vo, 3s. (Percy Soc.)

Friar Bakon's Prophesie ; a Satire on the Degeneracy of the

Times, A.D. 1604. Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. Post 8vo, 1*. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

Strange Histories, or Songes and Sonets of Kings,

Princes, Dukes, Lordes, Ladyes, Knights, and Gentlemen ; very pleasant either to be
Read or Songe," &c. By THOMAS DELONEY, 1607. Edited by J. P. COLLIER.
Post 8vo, 4*. (Percy Soc.)

A Knight's Conjuring, done in Earnest, discovered

in Jest; written in answer to Nash's « Pierce Penniless,' and containing numerous allu-
sions toManners and Customs in London, by THOMAS DEKKER, 1607. Edited, with
a Life of the Author, by E. F. RIMBAULT. Post 8vo, 3s. 6d. {Percy Soc.)

The Four Knaves. A Series of Satirical Tracts. By

SAMUEL ROWLANDS, 1611-13. Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by E. F.
RIMBAULT. Woodcuts, post 8vo, 4*. 6d. (Percy Soc,)

A Search for Money ; or the Lamentable Complaint for the

Losse of the Wandring Knight Mounsieur l'Argent ; or Come along with me, I know
thou Lovest Money, &c. By WILLIAM ROWLEY, 1609. Reprinted from the only
known copy by J. P. COLLIER. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d. (Percy Soc.)

The Crowne-Garland of Goulden Roses, a Collection

of Songs and Ballads, chiefly historical, by RICHARD JOHNSON, Author of "The
Seven Champions of Christendom." Reprinted from the edition of 1612. Edited by
W. CHAPPELL. Part I. 3s. ; Part II. from the edition of 1659, 3s 6d. post 8vo.

(Percy Soc.)

Honestie of this Age ; proving by Good Circumstance that

the World was never Honest till now. By BARNABY RICH, 1614. Edited by P.
CUNNINGHAM. Post 8vo, 3s. (Percy Soc.)

Follie's Anatomie ; or Satyres and Satyricall Epigrams, by

HENRY HUTTON, of Durham, 1619; containing curious Allusions to Paris Garden,
the Theatres, &c. Edited by E. F. RIMBAULT. Post 8vo, 3s. (Percy Soc.)

The King and the Poore Northerne Man. Shewing: how a

poore Northumberland Man, &c. went to the Ring himself to make known his Griev-
ances. Full of simple Mirth and merry plaine Jests. By MARTIN PARKER. 1640.
Edited by J. P. COLLIER. Post 8vo, 2*. (Percy Soc.)

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 9

A Rot among the Bishops ; or a Terrible Tempest in the Sea

of Canterbury, set forth in lively emblems to please the judicious Reader, in Verse. By
THOMAS STTRRY, 1641. 18mo, (a satire on Abp. Laud,) four very curious woodcut
emblems, cloth, 3s. %.

A facsimile of the very rare original edition, which sold at Bindley's sale for 13/.

Songs of the London Prentices and Trades, during the

Reigns of Henry VII, Henry VIII, Elizabeth, and James I. Edited by C. MACKAY.
Post8vo, 5s. (Percy Soc.)

Lord Mayor's Pageants ; being Collections towards a History

of these Annual Celebrations, with Specimens of the descriptive Pamphlets published by
the City Poets. Edited by W. F. FAIRHOLT, in two parts. Part I, woodcuts, 5s.
Part II, plates, 5s. (Percy Soc.)

Civic Garland; A Collection of Songs from London Pageants.

Edited by F. W. FAIRHOLT. Post 8 vo, 4*. (Percy Soc.)

Political Ballads Published in England during the

Commonwealth, chiefly from the King's Pamphlets in the British Museum. With an
Introduction and Notes, by T. WRIGHT. Post 8vo, 6*. (Percy Soc.)

Old Ballads ; illustrating the great Frost of 1683-4, and the

Fair on the River Thames. Edited by E. F. RIMBAULT. Post 8vo, 3s. (Percy Soc.)

Popular Stories and Superstitions.

AINT PATRICKS PURGATORY; an

Essay on the Legends of Purgatory, Hell, and Paradise, current
during the Middle Ages. By THOMAS WRIGHT, M.A., F.S.A.,
&c. Post 8vo, cloth, 6s. #.

" It must be observed, that this is not a mere account of St.
Patrick's Purgatory, but a complete history of the legends and
superstitions relating to the subject, from the earliest times,
rescued from old MSS. as well as from old printed books.
Moreover, it embraces a singular chapter of literary history, omitted by Warton and
all former writers with whom we are acquainted ; and we think we may add, that it
forms the best introduction to Dante that has yet been published." — Literary Gazette.
" This appears to be a curious and even amusing book on the singular subject of Purgatory,
in which the idle and fearful dreams of superstition are shown to be first narrated as
tales, and then applied as means of deducing the moral character of the age in which
they prevailed." — Spectator.

The Merry Tales of the Wise Men of Gotham. Edited

by JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL, Esq. F.S.A. Post 8vo, 1*. #

These tales are supposed to have been composed in the early part of the sixteenth century,

by Dr. Andrew Borde, the well-known progenitor of Merry Andrews. " In the time of

Henry the Eighth, and after," says Ant.-a-Wood, " it was accounted a book full of wit

and mirth by scholars and gentlemen."

A Selection of Latin Stories, from MSS. of the Xlllth and

XlVth Centuries. Edited by T. WRIGHT. Post 8vo, pp. 280, 6s. (Percy Soc.)

The Seven Sages, in English Verse, from a MS. at Cambridge.

Edited by T. WRIGHT. Post 8vo, 4*. (Percy Soc.)

One of the most remarkable collections of Stories current during the Middle Ages.

10 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Jack of Dover, his Quest of Inquirie, or his Privy

Search for the veriest Foole in England, a collection of Merry Tales, 1604. Edited

by T. WRIGHT. Post 8vo, 2*. 6d. (PercV Soc;>

This tract is exceedingly curious, as forming one of the links between the wit of the middle

ages and that of modern times. There is scarcely one of the " merry tales" contained

in it which has not its counterpart among the numerous Latin stories of the monks,

which were popular in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

Pleasant Conceites of Old Hobson, the Merry Londoner,

full of humourous Discourses and witty Merriments, whereat the quickest wittes may
laugh, and the wiser sort take pleasure. 1607- Edited by J. O. HALL1WELL. Post
8vo, 2*. (Percy Soc.)

Robin Goodfellow ; his Mad Pranks and Merry Jests,

full of honest mirth. 1628. Edited by J. P. COLLIER. Post8vo,2*. {Percy Soc.)

History of Reynard the Fox, from Caxton's edition in 1481,

with Notes and Literary History of the Romance. Edited by W. J. THOMS. Post

8vo, 9*. (.Percy Soc->

FooJs and Jesters, with a Reprint of ROBERT ARMIN'S

Nest of Ninnies, 1608. Edited by J. P. COLLIER. 8vo, cloth, As. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Tarlton's Jests, and News out of Purgatory; with Notes,

and some account of the Life of Tarlton. By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, cloth, As.6d.

(Shakespeare Soc.)

Illustrations of the Fairy Mythology of Shakespeare.

By J. O. HALLIWELL. Thick 8vo. cloth, Is. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The Noble and Renowned History of Guy, Earl of

Warwick, containing a full and true account of his many famous and valiant actions.
12mo, new editioti, with woodcuts, cloth, 2s. 6d. %■

Anecdotes and Traditions, illustrative of Early English His-
tory and Literature, derived from MS. sources. Edited by W. J. THOMS. Small 4to,
cloth, 15s. (Camden Soe.)

A Contemporary Narrative of the Proceedings against

Dame Alice Kyteler, prosecuted for Sorcery in 1324. By RICHARD de LEDREDE,
Bishop of Ossory. Edited by T. WRIGHT. Small 4to, cloth, 4*. 6d. (Camden Soc.)
This volume affords a curious picture of the turbulent state of Ireland in the Reign of
Edward II. and an interesting chapter in the history of English Superstition.

Dialogue concerning Witches and Witchcrafts. By

GEORGE GIFFORD, Vicar of Maldon, 1603. Edited by T. WRIGHT. Post 8vo,

4«. 6rf. (Percy Soc.)

This dialogue was thought to merit reprinting, both as being an excellent specimen of the

colloquial language of the Reign of Elizabeth, and for the good sense with which the

writer treats a subject on which so many people ran mad, and the curious allusions

which it contains to the superstitions of that age.

Trial of the Witches at Bury St. Edmunds, before Sir

M. HALE, 1664, with an Appendix by CHARLES CLARK, Esq. of Totham, Essex.

8VO, 1*. AA.

«« The most perfect narrative of anything of this nature hitherto extant."— Preface.

Wonderful Discovery of the Witchcrafts of Margaret

and Philip Flower, daughters of Joan Flower, near Bever (Belvoir), executed at Lincoln
for confessing themselves actors in the destruction of Lord Rosse, son of the Earl of
Rutland. 1618. 8vo, Is #.

One of the most extraordinary cases of Witchcraft on record.

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 11

Account of the Trial, Confession, and Condemnation

of Six Witches at Maidstone, 1652; also the Trial and Execution of Three others at
Faversham, 1645. 8vo, 1*. ^

These transactions are unnoticed by all the Kentish historians.

A Faithful Record of the Miraculous Case of Mary

Jobson, by W. REID CLANNV, M.D. of Sunderland. 8vo, Is. 6d. #

The second edition of a most extraordinary narrative, which caused great sensation in
the North of England.

Medieval History.
MANUAL of the History of the Middle

Ages, from the Invasion of the Barbarians to the Fall of Constanti-
nople; with Genealogical Tables of the Imperial Houses of Ger-
many, of the Three French Dynasties, and of the Norman-Angevin
Kings of England, translated from the French Work of DES
MICHELS, by T. G. JONES. 12mo, cloth, 2s. 6d. (published at
6s. 6d.) #

" The general scarcity of elementary works on History, and more
especially of such as refer to the Middle Ages, might, in itself, be a sufficient apology
for the appearance of the following translation ; but when it is further considered
that the original text has passed through several editions, and that its reputation is
established in a country confessedly eminent in historical literature, it is believed
that the work, in its present form, cannot but prove a desideratum to the English
student."

Chronica Jocelina de Brakelonda, de Rebus Gestis

Samsonis Abbatis Monasterii Sancti Edmundi : nunc primum typis mandata curante
J. GAGE-ROKEWODE. Small 4to, cloth, 10s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

** There is one publication which the Society may well be gratified at having been the
means of adding to the materials of the History of England, the Chronicle of Josceline
de Brakelond, a work edited with singular care and judgment, and unique in its cha-
racter, as affording an illustration of monastic life more vivid and complete than can
be found in any work with which the Council are acquainted."

Report of the C. S. 1841.

Ecclesiastical Documents, viz. 1. A Brief History of the

Bishoprick of Somerset to the year 1174. 2. Curious Collection of Charters from the
Library of Dr. Cox Macro. Now first published. By the Rev. JOSEPH HUNTER.
Small 4to, cloth, 3s. [Camden Soc.)

Chronicle of William of Rishanger of the Barons'

Wars— The Miracles of Simon de Montfort. Edited from MSS. by J. O. H ALLIWELL.
Small 4to, cloth, 5s. (Camden Soc.)

The Baron's War, including the Battles of Lewes and Evesham.

By W. H. BLAAW, F.S.A. Thick small 4to, many plates, cloth, (an interesting
volume,) 15s. «

A French Chronicle of London, from the 44th of Henry

III to the 17th of Edw. Ill, with copious English notes. By J. G. AUNGIER. Small
4to, cloth, 6s. (Camden Soc.)

Abbreviata Chronica, ab anno 1377, usque ad annum 1409.

Edited by the Rev. J. SMITH. 4to, facsimile, 3s. (Camb. Antiq. Soc.)*

12 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Historie of the Arrival of Edward IV in England,

and the finall recoverye of his Kingdomes from Henry VI. 1471. Edited by J.
BRUCE. SmalUto, cloth, 9*. (Camden Soc.)

Chronicle of the First Thirteen Years of the Reign of

Edward IV. By JOHN WARKWORTH. Now first printed, and edited by J. O.
HALLIWELL. Small 4to, cloth, 3s. t$ {Camden Soc.)

Polydore Virgil's History of the Reigns of Henry VI,

Edward IV, and Richard III, now first printed in English from a MS. in the British
Museum. By Sir H. ELLIS. Small 4to, cloth, 6s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

Philology.
ICTIONARY of Archaic and Provincial

Words, Obsolate Phrases, &c. from the reign of Edward I ; forming
a complete Key for the reader of the works of our Ancient Poets,
Dramatists, and other Authors, whose works abound with allusions
of which explanations are not to be found in ordinary dictionaries
and books of reference. By J. O. HALLIWELL, F.R.S. &c. 8vo.
Vol. I, containing 480 pages, closely printed in double columns, cloth,
11. Is. (To be completed in 2 vols.) %

" It forms a most comprehensive glossary to all our old English writers, from the be-
ginning of the fourteenth century to the time of the Stuarts, including the earlier
chroniclers, the writings of Wycliffe, and a long range of poets, from Piers Ploughman,
Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate, &c. to Spenser and his contemporaries, with Shakespeare and
the dramatists of that age. Most of the words of the Dictionary are illustrated by ex-
amples, selected not only from printed authorities, but from the numerous early English
MSS. scattered through public and private libraries, and these are extremely numerous
and valuable. In addition to the obsolete portion of our language this work may be
said to be a complete dictionary of the local dialects of the present day, and is one which
will be an acceptable addition to every library." — Morning Herald.

On the Origin and Formation of the Romance Lan-
guages ; containing an examination of M. Raynouard's Theory on the Relation of the
Italian, Spanish, Provenyal, and French, to the Latin. By GEO. CORNEWALL
LEWIS. 8vo, cloth, 12s. reduced to 7s. 6d.

Reliques of Irish Jacobite Poetry, with Interlinear Trans-
lations, and Biographical Sketches of the Aut'aors, and Notes by J. DALY, also
English Metrical Versions by E. WALSH. 8vo. Parts I and 2 (all yet published,) 2s. %■

Popular Errors in English Grammar, particularly in Pro-
nunciation, familiarly pointed out. By GEORGE JACKSON. 12mo, Third Edition,
with a coloured frontispieee of the " Sedes Busbeiana." 6d. ^f

Promptorium Parvulorum sive Clericorum, Lexicon

Anglo-Latinum princeps, autore Fratre Galfrido Grammatico Dicto e Predicationibus
Lenne Episcopi, Northfolciensi, a.d. 1440, olim e prelis Pynsonianis editum, nunc ab
integro, commentariolis subjectis, ad fidem codicum recensuit ALBERTUS WAY.
Tomus prior, small 4to, cloth, 10s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

Histoire Litteraire, Philologique et Bibliographique

des Patois. Par. PIERQUIN de GEMBLOUX. 8vo, Paris, 1841. 8s. 6d.

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 13

Bibliographical List of all the Works which have been pub-
lished towards illustrating the Provincial Dialects of England. By JOHN RUSSELL
SMITH. Post8vo, Is. ^

" Very serviceable to such as prosecute the study of our provincial dialects, or are col-
lecting works on that curious subject. We very cordially recommend it to notice." —
Metropolitan.

Grose's (Francis, F.S.A.) Glossary of Provincial and

Local Words used in England, with which is now first incorporated the Supplement
by SAMUEL PEGGE, F.S.A. Post 8vo, elegantly printed, cloth, 4s.6d. ^

The utility of a Provincial Glossary to all persons desirous of understanding our ancient
poets is so universally acknowledged, that to enter into a proof of it would be entirely a
work of supererogation. Grose and Pegge are constantly referred to in Todd's
" Johnson's Dictionary."

Specimens of Cornish Provincial Dialect, collected and

arranged by Uncle Jan Treenoodle, with some Introductory Remarks and a Glossary

by an Antiquarian Friend, also a Selection of Songs and other Pieces connected with

Cornwall. Post 8vo, ivith curious portrait of Dolly Pentreath, cloth, As. *

" Vether it's worth while goin' through so much, to learn so little, as the Charity-boy

said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a matter o' taste. I rayther think it

isn't," Quoth Old Weller.

Exmoor Scolding and Courtship in the Propriety and

Decency of Exmoor (Devonshire) Language, with Notes and a Glossary. Post 8vo, 12th
edition, Is. 6d. jjfr

" A veTy rich bit of West of Englandism."— Metropolitan.

Poems of Rural Life, in the Dorset Dialect, with a Dis-
sertation and Glossary. By WILLIAM BARNES. Royal 12mo, cloth, 10s. *
A fine poetic feeling is displayed through the various pieces in this volume ; according to
some critics nothing has appeared equal to it since the time of Burns; the « Gent.'s
Magazine' for Dec. 1844, gave a review of the volume some pages in length.

A Glossary of Provincial Words and Phrases in use in

Wiltshire, showing their Derivation in numerous instances from the Language of the
Anglo-Saxons. By JOHN YONGE AKERMAN, Esq., F.S.A. 12mo, cloth, 3s. *

A Collection of Fugitive Pieces in the Dialect of

Zummerzet. Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. Post 8vo, only 50 printed, 2s. •£

Dick and Sal, or Jack and Joan's Fair, a Doggerel Poem,

in the Kentish Dialect. 3d edition, 12mo, 6d. %

Tom Cladpole's Journey to Lunnun, told by himself, and

written in pure Sussex Doggerel, by his Uncle Tim. 18mo, 5th thousand, 6d. ^

Jan Cladpoles Trip to 'Merricur in Search for Dollar

Trees, and how he got rich enough to beg his way home ! written in Sussex Doggerel.
12mo, 6i. $

John Noakes and Mary Styles, a Poem, exhibiting some of

the most striking lingual localisms peculiar to Essex, with a Glossary. By CHARLES
CLARK, Esq. of Great Totham Hall, Essex. Post 8vo, cloth, 2s. -*-

** The poem possesses considerable [humour." Tait's Mag. — «'A very pleasant trifle."
Lit. Gaz. — " A very clever production." Essex Lit. Journal. — «« Full of rich humour."
Essex Mercury."—" Very droll." Metropolitan. — "Exhibits the dialect of Essex per-
fectly." Eclectic Review. — " Full of quaint wit and humour." Gent's Mag. May 1841 .
— " A very clever and amusing piece of local description." Archaeologist.

14 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

The Vocabulary of East Anglia, an attempt to record the

vulgar tongue of the twin sister Counties, Norfolk and Suffolk, as it existed in the last
twenty years of the Eighteenth Century, and still exists ; with proof of its antiquity
from Etymology and Authority. By the Rev. R. FORBY. 2 vols, post 8vo, cloth, 12s.
(original price 1/. Is.) %

Westmorland and Cumberland Dialects. Dialogues,

Poems, Songs, and Ballads, by various Writers, in the Westmorland and Cumberland
Dialects, now first collected, to which is added, a Copious Glossary of Words peculiar to
those Counties. Post 8vo, pp. 408, cloth, 9s. $jj

This collection comprises, in the Westmorland Dialect, Mrs. ANN WHEELER'S Four
Familiar Dialogues, with Poems, &c* and in the Cumberland Dialect, I. Poems and
Pastorals by the Rev. JOSIAH RELPH ; II. Pastorals, &c.,by EWAN CLARK; III.
Letter from Dublin by a young Borrowdale Shepherd, by ISAAC RITSON ; IV.
Poems by JOHN STAGG ; V. Poems by MARK LONSDALE ; VI. Ballads and
Songs by ROBERT ANDERSON, the Cumbrian Bard (including some now first
printed); VII. Songs by Miss BLAMIRE and Miss GILPIN; VIII. Songs by JOHN
RAYSON; IX. An Extensive Glossary of Westmorland and Cumberland Words.
••Among the specimens of Cumberland Verse will be found some true poetry, if not the
best ever written in the language of rural life this side the Scotch Borders. The
writers seem to have caught in their happiest hours inspiration from the rapt soul of
Burns. Anderson's touching song of wedded love, • The Days that are geane,' is a
worthy answer for a husband to Burn's ' John Anderson my Jo.' " —Gent's. Magazine.
" No other two counties in England have so many pieces, both in prose and verse, illus-
trative of the manners and customs of the inhabitants, and written in their own native
dialect. The philologist will find numerous examples of words and phrases which are
obsolete in the general language of England, or which have been peculiar to West-
morland and Cumberland from time immemorial. Nor are the pieces uninteresting
in other respects. Some of the patois verses are rich in the true spirit and vigour of
poetry." — Metropolitan.
"A charming volume : it contains some beautiful poetical effusions, as well as characteristic
sketches in prose." — Archceologist.

The Yorkshire Dialect, exemplified in various Dialogues,

Tales, and Songs, applicable to the County, with a Glossary. Post8vo, 1*. Sfr

"A shilling book worth its money; most of the pieces of composition are not oniy
harmless, but good and pretty. The eclogue on the death of ' Awd Daisy,' an out-
worn horse, is an outpouring of some of the best feelings of the rustic mind ; and the
addresses to riches and poverty have much of the freedom and spirit of Burns."

Genfs Magazine, May 1841.

The Bairnsla Foak's Annual, an onnv body els as beside

for't years 1842 and 1843. Be TOM TREDDLEHOYLE. To which is added the
Barnsley and Village Record, or the Book of Facts and Fancies. By NED NUT. 12mo,
pp. 100, Is. *

This almanac is written in the Barnsley Dialect, and therefore fits itself with peculiar em-
phasis to the understanding of all in that particular locality. Its influence, however,
extends beyond this ; for even those unacquainted with the Barnsley peculiarities of
speech, will find much amusement in perusing the witticisms of the author, through
his curious mode of expression.

Heraldry and Genealogy.
HE CURIOSITIES of HERALDRY,

with Illustrations from old English Writers. By MARK ANTONY
LOWER, Author of "Essays on English Surnames;" with Illu-
minated Title-page, and numerous Engravings from designs by the
Author. 8vo, cloth, gules, appropriately ornamented, OR. 14s. *

"The present volume is truly a worthy sequel (to the 'Sur-
names ') in the same curious and antiquarian line, blending
with remarkable facts and intelligence, such a fund of amusing

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COxMPTON ST. SOHO. 15

anecdote and illustration, that the reader is almost surprised to find that he has learnt
so much, whilst he appeared to be pursuing mere entertainment. The text is so
pleasing that we scarcely dream of its sterling value ; and it seems as if, in unison
with the woodcuts, which so cleverly explain its points and adorn its various topics,
the whole design were intended for a relaxation from study, rather than an ample
exposition of an extraordinary and universal custom, which produced the most im-
portant effect upon the minds and habits of mankind."— Literary Gazette.

English Surnames. A Series of Essays on Family Nomen-

clature, Historical, Etymological, and Humorous; with Chapters on Canting Arms,
Rebuses, the Roll of Battel Abbey, a List of Latinized surnames, &c. By MARK
ANTONY LOWER. The second edition, enlarged, post 8vo, pp. 292, with 20 woodcuts,
cloth, 6s. ijj

To those who are curious about their patronymic, it will be found a very instructive and
amusing volume— mingling wit and pleasantry, with antiquarian research and his-
torical interest.
«' An instructive and amusing volume, which ought to be popular. Perhaps no subject is
more curious than the history of proper names. How few persons are there who
have not on one occasion or other been struck with the singular names which have fallen
under their own observation, and who have not sought for information as to their
origin? Yet we know of no work of any value, much more a popular work, which
treats on the subject. Mr. Lower has written a very good and well-arranged book,
which we can with confidence recommend to our readers." — Archceologist.

Application of Heraldry to the illustration of various

University and Collegiate Antiquities. By H. A. WOODHAM, Esq. 4to, part I.
coloured plate, and 30 cuts of arms, 6s. Part II, coloured plate, and 2 woodcuts, 3s. 6d.

(Camb. Antiq. Soc.) %

A Genealogical and Heraldic History of the Extinct

and Dormant Baronetcies of England, Ireland, and Scotland. By J. BURKE, Esq. and
J. B. BURKE, Esq. Medium 8vo, Second Edition. 638 closely printed pages, in double
columns, with about 1000 arms engraved on wood, fine portrait of James I, and illuminated
title-page, extra cloth, 10s., published at 1Z. 8s. ^

This work, which has engaged the attention of the Authors for several years, comprises
nearly a thousand families, many of them amongst the most ancient and eminent in
the kingdom, each carried down to its representative or representatives still existing,
with elaborate and minute details of the alliances, achievements, and fortunes, gene-
ration after generation, from the earliest to the latest period. The work is printed
to correspond precisely with the last edition of Mr. Burke's Dictionary of the Existing
Peerage and Baronetage ; the armorial bearings are engraved in the best style, and are
incorporated with the text as in that work.

A General Armory of England, Scotland, and Ireland ;

comprising a Registry of all Armorial Bearings, from the earliest to the present
time. By J. BURKE, Esq. and J. B. BURKE, Esq. Royal 8vo, Third,
Edition, with Supplement. 1200 pages, in double columns, illuminated title-page, cloth
If. Is. published at 21. 2s.
The most useful book on Heraldry extant ; it embodies all the arms of Guillim, Edmonson,
Robson, Berry, and others, prefaced by a history of the art.

Pedigrees of the Nobility and Gentry of Hertfordshire.

By WILLIAM BERRY, late and for fifteeen years Registering Clerk in the

College of Arms, Author of the " Encyclopaedia Heraldica," &c. &c. Folio (only 125

printed), bds. 31. 10s. reduced to If. 5s. %.

" These Collections of Pedigrees will be found of great utility, though not of sufficient

proof in themselves to establish the claims of kindred set forth in them : but affording

a ready clue to such necessary proof whenever it should be required, by pointing out

the places of nativity, baptism, marriages, and burials, and such other legal documents,

as localities will otherwise afford, and the modern entries in the Herald's College, are

of no better authority, requiring the very same kind of proof for legal purposes. This

observation will perhaps silence the ill-natured remarks which have emanated from

that quarter : and it is self-evident that the printing of 250 copies is a much safer

record than one manuscript entry there, which might easily be destroyed."— Preface.

16 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Topography, Archaeology, and Architecture.

ISTORY of Banbury in Oxfordshire, in-
cluding Copious Historical and Antiquarian Notices of the Neigh-
bourhood. By ALFRED BEESLEY. Thick 8vo, 684 closely printed
pages, with 66 woodcuts, engraved in the first style of art, by O. Jewitt,
of Oxford, (pub. at 1/. 5s.) now reduced to 14*. ^

" The neighbourhood of Banbury is equally rich in British, Roman,
Saxon, Norman, and English Antiquities, of all which Mr.
Beesley has given regularly cleared accounts. Banbury holds an
important place in the history of the Parliamentary War of the Seventeenth Century,
and was the scene of the great Battle of Edghill, and of the important fight of
Cropredy Bridge. Relating to the events of that period, the author has collected a
great body of local information of the most interesting kind. By no means the least
valuable part of Mr. Beesley's work, is his account of the numerous interesting early
churches, which characterize the Banbury district." — The Archaeologist.
J. R. SMITH having bought the whole stock of the above very interesting volume, invites
the Subscribers to complete their copies in parts without delay, the price of which will
be (for a short time) 1*. 6d., instead of 2s. 6d.

A Hand-Book to Lewes in Sussex, Historical and De-
scriptive, with Notices of the Recent Discoveries at the Priory. By MARK ANTONY
LOWER. 12mo, many engravings, cloth, 2s. %

The History of the Town of Gravesend in Kent,

and of the Port of London. By R. P. CRUDEN, late Mayor of Gravesend. Royal
8vo, 37 fine plates and woodcuts, a very handsome volume, cloth, 1843, reduced from 11. 8s.
to 10s.

History and Antiquities of Dartford, in Kent, with In-
cidental Notices of Places in its Neighbourhood. By J. DUNKIN, Author of the
" History of the Hundreds of Bullington and Ploughley in Oxfordshire; " History of
Bicester;" " History of Bromley," &c. 8vo, 17 plates, cloth. Only 250 printed. 21s. -^

The Visitor's Guide to Knole House, near Seven Oaks in

«• Kent, with Catalogue of the Pictures contained in the Mansion, a Genealogical History
of the Sackville Family, &c. &c. By J. H. BRADY, F.R.A.S. 12mo, 27 woodcuts by
Bonner, Sly, %c. cloth, 4*. 6rf. Large Paper, Ids. %■

A very interesting guide to one of the most remarkable old Family Mansions, or we might
even say, palaces, of England. The biographical notices of the portraits are very
curious, and the description of old trees, and other particulars in the park and gar-
dens will amuse the gardener ; while the architect will be instructed by the engravings
of different parts of the house, and of the ancient furniture, more particularly of the
fire-places, fire-dogs, chairs, tripods, masks, sconces, &c." — J. C. Loudon,
Gardener's Magazine, Jan. 1840.

Illustrations of Knole House, from Drawings by Knight,

engraved on wood by Bonner, Sly, &c. 8vo, 16 plates with descriptions, 5s. %.

Greenwich ; its History, Antiquities, and Public Buildings.

By H. S. RICHARDSON. 12mo, fine woodcuts by Baxter. Is. 6d. %

The Folkestone Fiery Serpent, together with the Humours

of the Dovor Mayor ; being an Ancient Ballad full of Mystery and pleasant Conceit,
now first collected and printed from the various MS. copies in possession of the inhabit-
ants of the South-east Coast of Kent, with Notes. J2mo, Is.

A Brief Account of the Parish of Stowting, in Kent,

and of the Antiquities lately discovered there. By the Rev. F. WRENCH, Rector.
8vo, three folding plates, etched by the author. 2s. 6d. $fc

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 17

Bibliotheca Cantiana, a Bibliographical Account of what has

been published on the History, Topography, Antiquities, Customs, and Family
Genealogy of the County of Kent, with Biographical Notes. By JOHN RUSSELL
SMITH. In a handsome 8vo volume, pp. 370, with two plates of facsimiles of Auto-
graphs of 33 eminent Kentish Writers. 14*. reduced to 5s. — large paper, 10*. 6rf.
Contents — I. Historians of the County. II. Principal Maps of the County. III. Heraldic
Visitations, with reference to the MSS. in the British Museum and other places. IV. Tracts
printed during the Civil War and Commonwealth, 1640-16G0. V. A Chronological List of all
the Local, Personal, and Private Acts of Parliament (upwards of 600), which havebeen
passed on the County, from Edward I. to Queen Victoria. VI. Works relative to the County
in general. VII. Particular Parishes, Seats, Customs, and Family Genealogy, in alphabetical
order. The work also comprises a notice of every Paper which has been written on the
County, and published in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, Gentleman'*
Magazine, Archceologia, Vetusta Monumenta, Topographer, Antiquarian Repertory, and nume-
rous other valuable publications, with a copious Index of every person and place mentioned
throughout the volume.

History and Antiquities of the Hundred of Compton,

Berks, with Dissertations on the Roman Station of Calleva Attrebatum, and the Battle
ofAshdown. By W. HEWITT, Jun, 8vo, 18 plates, cloth. Only 250 printed. 15s. •&

The Local Historian's Table-Book of Remarkable Oc-
currences, Historical Facts, Traditions, Legendary and Descriptive Ballads, &c. &c,
connected with the Counties of Newcastle-on-Tyne, Northumberland, and
Durham. By M. A. RICHARDSON. Royal 8vo, profusely illustrated with woodcuts,
now Complete in 8 vols, royal 8vo, cloth, 9*. each, or the Divisions sold separately as follows:
HISTORICAL DIVISION, 5 vols. LEGENDARY DIVISION, 3 vols. ^

The legendary portion will be found very interesting volumes by those who take no interest
in the Historical portion.

" This chronology of local occurrences, from the earliest times when a date is ascertainable
possesses an especial interest for the residents of the Northern Counties ; but, inas-
much as it records Historical events as well as trivial incidents, and includes Biogra-
phical notices of men whose fame extended beyond their birth-places, it is not without
a value to the general reader. The work is divided into two portions, the larger con-
sisting of the chronicle, and the lesser of the traditions and ballads of the country.
Some of these are very characteristic and curious; they invest with poetic associations
almost every ruin or plot of ground ; and the earlier legends of moss-troopers and
border-strifes afford an insight into the customs and state of society in remote periods.
The handsome pages are illustrated with woodcuts of old buildings and other an-
tiquities."— Spectator.

Newcastle Tracts; Reprints of Rare and Curious Tracts,

chiefly illustrative of the History of the Northern Counties; beautifully printed in
crown 8vo, on a fine thick paper, with facsimile Titles, and other features characteristi
of the originals. Only 100 copies printed. Nos. I. to XXX, 21. 17s. 6d.

Purchasers are expected to take the succeeding Tracts as published.

Travels of Nicander Nucius of Corcyra in England,

during the Reign of Henry VIII. Edited by Dr. CRAMER. Small 4to, cloth, As

(Camden Soc.)

A Journey to Beresford Hall, in Derbyshire, the Seat of

CHARLES COTTON, Esq. the celebrated Author and Angler. By W. ALEXANDER,
F.S.A., F.L.S., late Keeper of the Prints in the British Museum. Crown 4to, printed
on tinted paper, with a spirited frontispiece, representing Walton and his adopted Son
Cotton in the Fishing-house, and vignette title-page, cloth, 5s.
Dedicated to the Anglers of Great Britain and the various Walton and Cotton Clubs,
only 100 printed.

History of Portsmouth, Portsea, Landport, Southsea,

and Gosport. By HENRY SLIGHT, Esq. 8vo, Third Edition, Ids. 4s. ^.

18 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Historical and Chore-graphical Description of the

County of Essex. By JOHN NORDEN, 1594. Now first printed, and edited by Sir
H. ELLIS. Very curious map, small 4to, cloth, 4*. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

Kemp's Nine Daies Wonder, performed in a Daunce from

London to Norwich, with Introduction and Notes by the Rev. A. DYCE. Small 4to,
cloth, As. 6d. {Camden Soc.)

" A great curiosity, and, as a rude picture of national manners, extremely well worth re-
printing."— Gifford's Notes to Ben Jonson.

Historic Sites and other Remarkable and Interesting; Places in

the County of Suffolk. By JOHN WODDERSPOON, with Prefatory Verses by BER-
NARD BARTON, Esq., and a Poetical Epilogue by a "Suffolk Villager." Im-
proved edition, fine woodcuts, post 8vo, pp. 232, closely printed, and containing as much
matter as many 12*. volumes, cloth, 6s. 6d. *fc

Principal Contents: — Framlingham Castle; Staningfield ; Rookwood ; Mrs. Inchbald ;
Aldham Common ; the Martyr's Stone ; Westhorpe Hall, the residence of Charles Brandon,
Duke of Suffolk ; Ipswich; Wolsey's Gate and Mr. Sparrow's House; Rendlesham; Redgrave;
Bury St. Edmunds, the Abbey; David Hartley; Bp. Gardiner; George Bloomfield ;
Wetheringset ; Haughley Castle ; Grimstone Hall ; Cavendish, the Voyager ; Framlingham
Church, the burial place of Surrey, the Poet; Bungay Castle; Dunwich; Aldborough ;
Wingfield, and the Old Halls of Suffolk.

A New Guide to Ipswich, containing Notices of its Ancient

and Modern History, Buildings, and Social and Commercial Condition. By JOHN
WODDERSPOON. Foolscap 8vo, fine woodcuts, cloth, 2.9. 6d. ^.

" It is handsomely got up, and reflects great credit on Ipswich typography."— Spectator.

Specimens of College Plate in the University of Cambridge.

By the Rev. J. J. SMITH. Ato, 13 fine plates, 15s. (Camb. Antiq. Soc.) -X-

HistoriaCollegii JesuCantabrigiensis a J. SHERMANNO,

olim praes. ejusdem Collegii. Edita J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, cloth, 2s. %■

The Archaeologist and Journal of Antiquarian Science.

Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, Nos. I. to X. complete, with Index, pp. 490,

with 19 engravings, cloth, reduced from 10s. 6d. to 5s. 6d. -X-

Containing original articles on Architecture, Historical Literature, Round Towers of

Ireland, Philology, Bibliography, Topography, Proceedings of the various Antiquarian

Societies, Retrospective Reviews, and Reviews of Recent Antiquarian Works, &c.

Roman and Roman-British Remains at and near Shefford,

Co. Beds, described by Sir H. DRYDEN. Bt. ; with a Catalogue of Coins from the
same place, by C. W. KING. 4to, 3 plates, coloured, 6s. 6d. (Camb. Antiq. Soc.) %.

Notitia Britanniae, or an Inquiry concerning- the Localities,

Habits, Condition, and Progressive Civilization of the Aborigines of Britain; to which
is appended a brief Retrospect of the Result of their Intercourse with the Romans. By
W. D. SAULL, F.S.A., F.G.S., &c. 8vo, engravings, 3s. 6d ■&

Caledonia Romana ,* a Descriptive Account of the Roman

Antiquities of Scotland ; preceded by an introductory view of the aspect of the Country,
and state of its Inhabitants in the First Century of the Christian Era, and by a Summary
of the Historical Transactions connected with the Roman Occupation of North Britain.
By ROBERT STUART. 4to, many fine plates, cloth, 18s.
"An able and highly readable (and cheap) volume on the transactions of the Romans in

Scotland, and the remains they have left behind them in that part of the island

The little that is known of the acts of the Romans in Scotland, and of the state of the

people in that age, is stated by Mr. Stuart in a graceful and flowing narrative

The view which he gives of the country, at the time when it was yet a sylvan wilder-

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 19

ness, occupied by tribes not much different from those of Missouri and Araucania, is
like a chapter in some beautiful romance. The roads and camps are all traced care-
fully, even unto Ptoroton and Bona, (Burghead and Loch Ness.) and an ample chapter
at the end is devoted to the Wall of Antoninus The scholar has here a satis-
factory account of the Roman Antiquities of Scotland, illustrated by numerous
draughts (in Lithography) ; while the general reader is presented with a work which
he may peruse for the sake of its information, without ever feeling it in the least
dull."— Chambers's Journal.

British Archaeological Association. A Report of the

Proceedings and Excursions of the Members of the British Archaeological Association, at

the Canterbury Session, Sept. 1844. By A. J. DUNKIN. Thick 8vo, with many

engravings, cloth, 11. Is.

" The volume contains most of the papers entire that were read at the Meeting, and revised

by the Authors. It will become a scarce book as only 120 were printed; and it forms

the first yearly volume of the Archaeological Association, or the Archaeological

Institute.

A Verbatim Report of the Proceedings at a Special General

Meeting of the British Archaeological Association, held at the Theatre of the Western
Literary Institution, 5th March, 1845, T. J. Pettigrew in the Chair. With an Intro-
duction, by THOMAS WRIGHT. 8vo, sewed, Is. 6d. %.

History of the Origin and Establishment of Gothic

Architecture, and an Inquiry into the mode of Painting upon and Staining Glass, as
practised in the Ecclesiastical Structures of the Middle Ages. By JOHN SIDNEY
HAWKINS, F.A.S. Royal 8vo, eleven plates, Ids. 3s. 6d. pub. at 12s. #

Account of the Sextry Barn at Ely, lately Demolished.

With Architectural Illustrations by PROFESSOR WILLIS. 4to, 4 plates, 3s. •*

(Camb. Antiq. Soc.)

Architectural Nomenclature of the Middle Ages.

By PROFESSOR WILLIS. 4to, 3 plqtes, 7s. (Camb. Antiq. Soc.) •&

Report of the First, Second, and Third General

Meetings of the Cambridge Antiquarian Society. 8vo, Is. each. (Camb. Antiq. Soc.) #■

Numismatics.
OINS of the Romans relating to Britain,

Described and Illustrated. By J. Y. AKERMAN, F.S.A., Secretary

to the Numismatic Society, &c. Second edition, greatly enlarged,

8vo, with plates and woodcuts, cloth, \0s. 6d. ■£

The ' Prix de Numismatique' has just been awarded by the French

Institute to the author for this work.
" Mr. Akerman's volume contains a notice of every known variety,
with copious illustrations, and is published at a very moderate
price : it should be consulted, not merely for these particular coins, but also for facts
most valuable to all who are interested in the Romano-British history.'' — Archaeolo-
gical Journal.

Ancient Coins of Cities and Princes, Geographically

arranged and described, HISPANIA, GALLIA, BRITANNIA. By J. Y. AKERMAN,
F.S.A. 8vo> with engravings ofma?iy hundred coins from actual examples, cloth, 18s. -Jf

20 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Ariana Antiqua ; A. Descriptive Account of the Antiquities and

Coins of Afghanistan, with a Memoir on the buildings called Topes. By C.
MASSON. Edited by H. H. WILSON, Sanscrit Professor at Oxford. 4to, many
plates of antiquities and many hundred coins, cloth, 21. 2s.
A very handsome and cheap volume. Printed at the expense of the East India Company.

Essay on the Numismatic History of the Ancient

Kingdom of the East Angles. By D. H. HAIGH. Royal 8vo, 5 plates, containing
numerous figures of coins, sewed, 6s. ■){■

Lectures on the Coinage of the Greeks and Romans,

delivered in the University of Oxford. By EDWARD CARDWELL, D.D., Principal
of St. Alban's Hall, and Professor of Ancient History. 8vo, cloth, reduced from
&s. (id. to 4*. -X-

A very interesting historical volume, and written in a pleasing and popular manner.

A Hand-Book of English Coins from the Conquest to

Victoria. By L. JEWITT. 12mo, 11 plates, cloth, Is. -X-

Numismatic Chronicle and Proceedings of the Numis-
matic society, 5 vols, and 3 Nos. to Oct. 1843; a subscriber's copy, many plates, cloth,
21. 12s. 6d. (pub. at 31. 17*.)

Literary History, Criticism, and Bibliography.

ECTURES on Dramatic Art and Lite-
rature. By AUGUSTUS WILLIAM SCIILEGEL. Translated
from the German by JOHN BLACK, Esq., Editor of the 'Morning
Chronicle.' 2 vols, foolscap 8vo. Skcond Edition, cloth, 12s. ■%■
" The present work contains a critical and historical account of
the ancient and modern drama — the Greek, Latin, Italian, German,
. Spanish, and English. The view which the author has taken of the
standard productions, whether tragic or comic, is ingenious and just,
and his reasonings on the principles of taste are as satisfactory as they are profound.
The acute and sensible remarks— the high tone of morality— are very admirable and
exemplary ; and we refer those who desire to elevate their understandings to a guide
so learned and philosophical as the author of these volumes."— Edinb. Rev.
•♦ In a few pages we reap the fruit of the labour of a whole life. Every opinion formed by
the author, every epithet given to the writers of whom he speaks is beautiful and
just, concise and animated."— Mad. de Stael's Germany.
" A work of extraordinary merit."— Quarterly Review, Vol. XII. pp. 112-46.

Who was Jack Wilson the Singer of Shakespeare's

Stage? An attempt, to prove the identity of this person with John Wilson, Dr. of
Music in the University of Oxford, a. d. 1644. By E. F. RIMBAULT, L.L.D.,
F.S.A. 8vo, sewed, Is. *

On the Character of Falstaff, as originally exhibited by

Shakespeare in the two parts of King Henry IV. By J. O. HALLIWELL. 12mo,
cloth, (only 100 printed,) 2s.

An Introduction to Shakespeare's Midsummer Nights'

Dream. By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8 vo, cloth (only 250 printed), 3s.

First Sketch of Shakespeare's Merrie Wives of

Windsor, with a collection of the Tales on which the Plot is supposed to have been
founded. Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, cloth, 4s. 6rf. (Shakespeare Soc.)

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 2.1

An Account of the only known Manuscript of Shake-
speare's Plays, comprising some important variations and corrections in the Merry Wives
of Windsor, obtained from a Playhouse copy of that Play recently discovered. By J
O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, sewed, Is. ^

Shakesperiana, a Catalogue of the Early Editions of Shake-

speare'sPlays, and of the Commentaries and other Publications illustrative of his Works.
By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, cloth, 3s. ^

" Indispensable to everybody who wishes to carry on any inquiries connected with Shake-
speare, or who may have a fancy for Shakespearian Bibliography."— Spectator.
" It ought to be placed by the side of every edition. It is the most concise, yet the most
copious illustration of the subject which has been given to the public."— Lit. Gaz.

Oberon's Vision in the Midsummer Nights' Dream,

Illustrated by a comparison with LYLIE'S Endymion. By the Rev. J. HALPIN, 8vo,
cloth, 4s. 6d. bds. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The Shakespeare Society's Papers, being a Miscellany

of Contributions Illustrative of the objects of the Society /F Vol. I. 6*. Vol. II, 6*. 8vo,
cloth. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Report Extraordinary of a late Meeting of the Society

of Antiquaries, in a Letter to " PUNCH," occasioned by a remarkable Omission in that
Gentleman's Account of the Metropolis. Post 8vo, 6d. y.

English Monastic Libraries. 1. Catalogue of the Library

of the Priory of Bretton, Yorkshire. II. Notice of the Libraries belonging to other Re-
ligious Houses. By the Rev. JOSEPH HUNTER, F.S.A. 4to, very few printed, 5s.

Catalogue of the Original Library of St. Catherine's

Hall, Cambridge, 1475. Edited by Prof. CORR1E. 4to, 1#. 6d. (Camb. Antiq. Soc.) ^

Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts and Scarce

Books in the Library of St. John's College, Cambridge. Part I, 4*. 6d.— Part II, 4s. Qd.
4tO. {Camb. Antiq. Soc.) %

Manuscript Rarities of the University of Cambridge.

By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, boards, 6s. %

A companion to Hartshorne's " Book Rarities" of the same University.

Catalogue of the Contents of the Codex Holbrookianus.

By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, Is. #

Catalogue of the Miscellaneous Manuscripts preserved

in the Library of the Royal Society. By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, 2*. %.

A Few Hints to Novices in Manuscript Literature

By J. O. HALLIWELL. 8vo, Is. #

An Account of the European Manuscripts intheChetham

Library, Manchester. By J. O. HALLIWELL. 12mo, Is. -£

Bibliotheca Scoto-Celtica ; or, an Account of all the

Books which have been printed in the Gaelic Language, with Bibliographical and
Biographical Notices. By JOHN REID. 8vo, bds. 5s. (pub. at 10*. 6d.)

22 VALUABLE AND INTERESTING BOOKS ON SALE

Biography, Diaries, Correspondence, and
State Papers.

E'NGLAND'S WORTHIES, under whom all the Civil
I and Bloody Warres, since Anno 1642 to Anno 1647, are related. By JOHN
VICARS, Author of " England's Parliamentary Chronicle," &c. &c. Royal 12mo,
reprinted in the old style, (similar to Lady Willoughby's Diary,) with copies of the 18
rare portraits after Hollar, Sjc. half morocco, 5s. ^J

Copies of the original edition have been sold from 16/. to 20Z.
The portraits comprise, Robert, Earl of Essex ; Robert, Earl of Warwick; Lord Montagu,
Earl of Denbigh, Earl of Stamford, David Lesley, Gen. Fairfax, Sir Thomas Fairfax, O.
Cromwell, Skippon, Col. Massey, Sir W. Brereton, Sir W. Waller, Col. Langhorne, Gen.
Poyntz, Sir Thos. Middleton, Gen. Brown, and Gen. Mitton.

Autobiography of Joseph Lister, of Bradford, in Yorkshire,

to which is added a contemporary account of the Defence of Bradford, and Capture of

Leeds by the Parliamentarians in 1642. Edited by THOMAS WRIGHT. 8vo, only

250 copies printed, cloth, As. -5f

"This volume is curious in several respects: 1st, as showing us the spirit, tenets, and

manners of the nonconformists ; 2dly, as minutely describing some remarkable affairs

belonging to the civil wars; and 3dly, as throwing a light upon the general habits of a

particular class of the inhabitants of England two hundred years ago." — Literary Gaz.

" Several remarkable matters may be collected from its perusal, and such compositions are

always valuable as pictures of character and manners." — Genfs Mag.
" The volume is a curious and interesting fragment of the history of those eventful times.
It gives a welcome glimpse of the early nonconformists." — Bradford Observer.

Love Letters of Mrs. PlOZZl, written when she was Eighty,

to the handsome Actor, William Augustus Conway, aged Twenty-seven, 8vo, sewed,
2*. *

" written at three, four, and five o'clock (in the morning) by an Octogenary pen, a

heart (as Mrs. Lee says) twenty-six years old, and as H. L. P. feels it to be, all your
own."— Letter V. 3d Feb. 1820.

« ' This is one of the most extraordinary collections of love epistles we have ever chanced
to meet with, and the well known literary reputation of the lady -the Mrs. Thrale,
of Dr. Johnson and Miss Burney celebrity — considerably enhances their interest. The
letters themselves it is not easy to characterize; nor shall we venture to decide whether
they more bespeak the drivelling of dotage or the folly of love; in either case they
present human nature to us under a new aspect, and furnish one of those riddles which
nothing yet dreamt of in our philosophy can satisfactorily solve." — Polytechnic Rev.

Collection of Letters on Scientific Subjects, illustrative

of the Progress of Science in England temp. Elizabeth to Charles II. Edited by J. O.

HALLIWELL. 8vo, cloth, 3s. [Historical Society of Science.)

Comprising letters of Digges, Dee, Tycho Brahe, Lower, Harriott, Lydyat, Sir W. Petty,
Sir C. Cavendish, Brancker, Pell, &c. ; also the autobiography of Sir Samuel Morland, from
a MS. in Lambeth Palace, Nat. Tarpoley's Corrector Analyticus, &c. &c.

Letters of James, Earl of Perth, to his Sister, the

Countess of Errol, and other members of his Family, 1688—1696. Edited by W. JERD AN.
Small Ato, cloth, 6s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

Plumpton Correspondence ; a Series of Letters written in

the reigns of Edward IV to Henry VIII, by the Plumpton familyof Yorkshire. Edited
by T. STAPLETON. Small 4to, pp. 450, cloth, 18s. (Camden Soc.)

Memoir of John Aubrey the Antiquary, embracing his

Autobiographical Sketches, Review of his personal and literary merits, and Anecdotes
of his Contemporaries. By JOHN BRITTON. 4to, engravings, very few printed,
cloth, 15s. ( Wiltshire Topog. Soc.)

BY J. R. SMITH, 4, OLD COMPTON ST. SOHO. 23

Diary of Dr. Thomas Cartwright, Bishop of Chester,

Aug. 1686 to Oct. 1687, now first printed. Edited by the Rev. JOSEPH HUNTER.
Small 4to, cloth, 4*. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

Cartwright was one of James the Second's creatures for the purpose of furthering Popery
in England, and also principal commissioner for depriving Dr. Hough of the Presidency
of Magdalen College, Oxford.

Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, and the Catalogue of his

Library of MSS. now first printed. Edited by J. O. HALLIWELL. Small 4 to, clot h,
5s. * (Camden Soc.)

It gives the reader a most curious insight into the "sayings and doings" of this celebrated
man during his residence at Mortlake in Surrey.

Autobiography of Sir John Bramston, k.b. of Screens,

in the County of Essex, 1611 to 1700. Edited by LORD BRAYBROOKE. Small

4to, 400 pp. cloth, 10s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

A very interesting piece af autobiography.

Memoirs of Edward Alleyn, Founder of Dulwich College,

including new particulars of Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Massinger, Marston, &c. by
J. P. COLLIER. 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Alleyn Papers ; a Collection of Original Documents illustrative

of the Life and Times of Edward Alleyn, and of the Early English Stage and Drama.
Edited by J. P. COLLIER. [A Companion to the previous Article.] 8vo, cloth,
4«. 6rf. (Shakespeare Soc.)

The Diary and Account Book of Philip Henslowe the

Player, from 1591 to 1609, now first printed from the MS. in Dulwich College. Edited
by J. P. COLLIER. 7s. Qd, (Shakespeare Soc.)

Notes on Ben Jonson's Conversations with William

Drummond of Hawthornden. Edited by D. LA1NG, 8vo, cloth, 5s. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Original Letters of Eminent Literary Men of the

XVIth, XVIIth, andXVIIlth Centuries, from the originals in the British Museum and
the Bodelian Library, with Notes by Sir HENRY ELLIS. Small 4to, cloth, pp.468,
facsimilies, 10s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

Account of the Life, Writings, and Inventions of Sir

Samuel Morland, Master of Mechanics to Charles II. By J. O. HALLIWELL.
8vo, Is. #

Account of the Rites and Ceremonies which took place

at the Consecration of Abp. Parker. Edited by J. GOODWIN, 4to, facsimile, 3s. 6d.

(Camb. Antiq. Soc.) %
A refutation of the foolish and absurd story, commonly known as the Nag's Head Conse-
cration.

Egerton Papers. A Collection of Public and Private Docu-
ments, chiefly illustrative of the Times of Elizabeth and James I. from the original
MSS. the property of Lord Francis Egerton. Edited by J. P. COLLIER, Small 4to,
pp. 518, cloth, Js. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

" Mr. Collier has fallen into a rich field, and full of pasture, among the Egerton papers
They seem to be stored with abundant materials, and the single volume before us is
a valuable sample of their national interest, and which throw a light upon public
events hitherto imperfectly appreciated." — Lit. Gaz.

Rutland Papers. Documents relating to the Coronation of

Henry VII. the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and the interviews of Henry VIII. with the
Emperor. From the Duke of Rutland's MS. collections. Edited by W. JERDAN.
Small 4to, cloth, 5s. (Camden Soc.)

24 VALUABLE BOOKS PUBLISHED BY J. R. SMITH.

Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court,

temp. Queen Eljzaljeth and James I, with Introduction and Notes by P. CUNNINGHAM.
8vo, cloth, 6s. (Shakespeare Soc.)

Correspondence of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester,

during his Government of the Low Countries in 1585 and 1586. Edited by J. BRUCE.
Thick small 4to, 500 pp. cloth, 12s. (Camden Soc.)

A Collection of Original Letters relating to the Dis-

solution of the Monasteries, and some other points connected with the Reformation.
Edited by THOMAS WRIGHT. Small 4to, cloth, 10s. 6d- (Camden Soc.)

Verney Papers. Notes of Proceedings in the Long Parliament,

temp. Charles I, taken by Sir RALPH VFRNEY, Knt. Edited by J~ BRUCE. Small
4to, cloth, 7s. 6d. (Camden Soc.)

A Plain and Familiar Explication of Christ's Presence

in the Sacrament out of the Doctrine of the Church of England, for « the satisfying of a
Scrupulous Friend,' Anno 1631. By that incomparable Prelate, JOSEPH HALL, D.D.,
formerly Lord Bishop of Norwich. Post 8vo, beautifully printed with various coloured
inks, a curious specimen of typography, cloth, 2s. 6d. •£

Miscellaneous.

SCIENCE of Archery, showing its Affinity to Heraldry,
with Anecdotes. By A. P. HARRISON. 8vo, sewed, Is.

Elements of Naval Architecture, being a Translation

of the Third Part of CLAIRBOIS' " Traite Elementaire de la Construction des Vais-
seaux." By J. N. STRANGE, Commander, R.N., 8vo, with 5 large folding plates,
cloth, 59. -fc

Arrian's Voyage round the Euxine Sea, translated and

accompanied with a Geographical Dissertation. By THOMAS FALCONER, Editor of
Strabo, Hanno, &c. 4to, with maps, and a plate of the Coins,of the Cities on the Coast
of the Euxine, bds. 3s. 6d. (pub. at 1/. 15.*.)
The Appendix contains — I. On the trade to the East Indies by means of the Euxine Sea,

II. On the distance which the ships of antiquity usually sailed in twenty-four hours. III.

On the measure of the Olympic Stadium.

Historical and Descriptive Account of Genoa; with Re-
marks on the Climate, and its Influence upon Invalids. By HENRY JONES BUN-
NETT, M.D. 12mo, cloth, 4s. #-

Colleccion de Orbas y Documentos relativos a la His-

toria Antiqua y Moderna de las Provincias del Rio de la Plata, illustrados con notas y
disertaciones. Por PEDRO DE ANGEL1S. 6 vols, folio, sewed. 61. 6s.

Buenos Aires, 1836-37.
The most valuable and important collection of documents that has yet appeared relative
to this part of the New World; they were printed at the expense of the Argentine
Republic, and not for sale. Through the kindness of the editor, J. R. Smith has
been allowed to import a few copies for the purpose of being placed in some of the
public libraries in England and on the Continent, or in those who take an interest
in the early history and geography of the middle part of South America.

J. R. S. begt to call the attention of Book-buyers to his " OLD BOOK CATALOGUE," wliich
is published every few weeks, offering a constant variety of Valuable and Cheap Books.

J. R. S. will be happy to publish on Commission, any Historical, Antiquarian, or Topographical
work, and will give it all possible publicity through the medium of his Catalogues, S(C.
without cost to the Proprietor.

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